Mrs. Young Ch. 01

"Hmmmm," she moaned, accepting more of me down her throat. "Mmhmm,"

"That feels so good, Jenny," I encouraged her.

I kept her blonde hair held tightly in my fist, scared that she would get away. I didn't want what she was doing to stop.

"Take your shirt off," I whispered, noticing she was still fully clothed, while I was almost completely naked.

She took her mouth away from me, and winced when I pulled her hair to bring her back down. She successfully pulled away though, but continued to slowly jack me off with her hand. "My clothes stay on." She told me flatly.

I stared at her, wondering why. I hadn't wanted to see her breasts as bad as I did then. And now she was telling me that I couldn't when my chance to see them was greater than ever.

"Just your shirt," I tried again, "nothing else."

She shook her head then kissed the side of my cock head and licked underneath it in the most sensitive spot. Her body was off limits to me. And I didn't like that bad news at all.

"You're killin' me," I told her, grabbing onto her hair again. I took it gently this time as I brought her back down on my dick, and she bobbed her head up and down on my again, all the while, using her hand up and down my shaft.

She kept changing her rhythm, which only excited me more. She sucked hard and bobbed up and down slow, then applied less suction as she bobbed up and down faster. She knew what she was doing. And I thought Mr. Young was a very lucky man whenever he was home to enjoy her.

But right now she was Jenny to me. While she was giving me head, her son, my best friend, was sleeping in his bed right above us upstairs. And he would never know what we were doing. He could never find out.

"I'm gonna cum," I whispered, maybe a little louder than I should have.

Her response was to take me all the way down her throat. I held onto both sides of her head as I felt her throat squeezing me for all I was worth.

"Hmmm," she moaned one last time, sending vibrations straight through my dick. Setting me off, I felt the first shot of cum spurt out. I held her head firmly in my lap and I felt her hands squeezing my thighs tightly. I liked that she didn't attempt to pull away from me. She was taking it. All of it.

"Fuck," I loosened my hold on her head, but she still kept me all the way down her throat, waiting for my orgasm to end. I lost track of how many spurts went down her throat. I soon felt myself shrinking in her mouth, and she pulled her head back, sucking gently a few more times in case she missed any cum. Her tongue played along the head of my dick again before she took it out of her mouth completely.

She ran her hand up and down on me a few more times before I was deflated all the way. I sighed heavily, a little disappointed it was over already. I brought my hand back down to her face and moved her very messy hair away. I wanted to say something, but my mind was blank. Mrs. Young just went down on me. What do you say when your best friends mom does that for you.

I looked over at the clock on the DVD player and saw that it was almost 5:30 in the morning.

It felt like we had been doing this for hours, but it was much shorter time than that. Just a half an hour ago, I was going to jack off, which probably would have taken me 10 minutes. I would have already been knocked back out if Mrs. Young never came down stairs to do what she had done.

She leaned away from me to sit up straight. I pulled my boxers up and sat up too, not sure what was going to happen now.

"Matthew..." She said.

"Jenny," I replied.

She looked away from me at the clock to know what time it was. "You can't tell anyone about this." She told me.

I shook my head, hoping she never thought that entered my mine. "It'd be very stupid if I did." I said.

I noticed that she relaxed after she was sure that I wasn't. "You're a very smart, kid."

The should-be compliment was kind of insulting. "Kid?"

She seemed to realize, "Boy."

"Boy?" I questioned again, hoping she could see my grin.

She nodded and repeated herself with a smile, "Boy."

I shook my head at her, "What you just did...you wouldn't have done that if you thought of me as a boy."

"That's true," she looked away from me. I imagined her blushing, if that were even possible for me to make her do.

"Well," I shrugged.

"A few minutes ago, you weren't a boy, but now I see you as one." She explained.

"So you wish you hadn't done that?"

"No," she shook her head. "I was debating all night up in my room whether I should or shouldn't. I thought about it very hard before I even left my room, Matthew."

I raised my eyebrows and smiled widely, "You thought about giving me head all night?"

"Don't be immature." She halted my playfulness.

"Sorry."

"But I don't regret it." She told me.

"I keep thinking I'm going to be waking up from a dream any minute now." I confessed as I laid back down. I covered my hands with my face to rub at my sleepy eyes.

"It could have been a wet dream, but it wasn't." She whispered.

"I'm glad it wasn't."

"I'm going to go back upstairs now," she said getting up from sitting between my legs.

I sat up quickly, grabbing her hand, "Wait, no..." I stopped her, not sure what to say after. She waited for me to continue.

"I just," I thought, "how long were you thinking about doing this? What even brought this on?"

She sighed and sat back down. I leaned closer to her so we wouldn't have to speak as loud. "Matt, you need to understand a woman's feelings and how different from a man she is."

I listened carefully, putting my arm on the side of the couch and rested my head on it. I felt like she was almost lecturing me because right now I saw her as my best friends mom, instead of my best friends mom who was sucking my dick.

She went on, "I told you how I was lonely. Mr. Young is gone most of the time." She paused.

"I remember." I said.

"I was reading up on this study about sex on men versus women," she continued. "And it was debating which gender had the need to do it more than the other."

"And?"

"Well, basically, it was saying that women are hornier than men most of the time."

"Not possible." I said, almost laughing.

"It's very possible," She nodded, "I mean these people studied and documented five years worth of information on this. It's fact, Matt."

I smiled, "So women are hornier than men." I stated. "I don't think that means that my need for sex isn't any less meaningful than your need for it is."

"You're only a boy, you shouldn't even be thinking about having sex." She said.

"I'm nineteen, Mrs. Young." I corrected her. "I'm pretty manly too." I said very seriously. "And you can't tell me I shouldn't be thinking about sex when you came down here just to suck my dick."

"Matthew," She rested her head on her arms on the side of the couch like I was. "You know what I mean. You're so young."

"I'm old enough to know what horny is and how to fix it."

"So you're not a virgin?" She asked.

"No."

"Is Michael?" She asked, now that we were talking about virginity and being too young for sex.

"No."

She stayed quiet after that. And I realized that I just told her that her son had fucked before. We were the same age though, and Michael was more outgoing than I was, so she shouldn't have even had to ask me.

"You'd know how I felt if you had your own kids and knew they were having sex."

"I don't see how it's wrong at 19."

"Like if you had a daughter and knew she was having sex, you wouldn't like it. Would you?"

"I don't know what it's like to be a parent." I replied.

"You're annoying sometimes, Matthew." She told me flatly, without any humor. I loved when she acted like that too.

I smiled at her, putting my hand on top of hers. "I liked it when you called me Matt before. That was the first time you didn't say Matthew."

"I know," she said, "I feel like if I still call you Matthew, you're still just my sons friend." She took her hand away so we weren't touching anymore.

I frowned some, knowing it wouldn't be like that. "It's different now though. Because that's not the only thing I am..."

"That's all you will be." She stopped me. "We can't do anything else. It was just this one time. I wanted to do it, and I did. It's over."

"But," I said, confused, "You didn't get anything out of it. I got all the pleasure. You can't be satisfied with that."

"I got pleasure out of it." She let me know.

"I didn't do anything to you though,"

"I know," She sat up again and stood from her seat on the couch.

"Where are you going?" I looked up at her.

"It's 6am, Matthew. I'm going to bed."

"You can't leave right when you just told me you got pleasure from giving me a blow job." I complained, feeling my dick coming back to life.

"Good night, Matt," she said as she walked away from the couch. She had put extra emphasis on my name, letting me know that she knew she wasn't saying Matthew.

I watched her walk up the stairs. The tiny night light shinning from the kitchen let me see her for a few seconds before she disappeared into the darkness. I liked seeing her ass sway back and forth and she ascended up the stairs.

Holy shit.

I looked down at my lap, feeling my cock springing up slowly filling with blood.

Really?

***

Three hours.

After drifting back off at 6 something in the morning, I had only gotten three hours of sleep. Well, plus what I had gotten before waking up at five this morning. I was woken up at 10 from hearing someone coming down the stairs very loudly.

I looked up and saw Michael walking into the kitchen. He had his sweat pants and his basketball shirt on. He went straight for the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk and gulped down as much as he could before putting the lid back on and placing it back in the fridge. He slammed the door and head back into the living room. He looked at me and flopped down on the couch. I had moved my legs out of the way just before he could sit on them.

"Damn," he said, "I slept like a baby last night."

"Good to know," I smirked, knowing he didn't know how good that actually was.

"Wanna go shoot some hoops here in a minute?" He asked, using his arms to act like he was holding a basketball and shooting it into a hoop.

I nodded, "Yeah, just let me take a shower real quick." Which actually meant, let me jerk off in your shower real quick because I'm still horny from thinking about your mom sucking my dick last night. The sad part is, I didn't feel bad about what had happened last night. Maybe it was because it was his mom who started it. Things would have still been the same if she hadn't come downstairs last night.

"You're gonna get sweaty anyway," he told me. "Just wait til we get back."

I sat up and reluctantly agreed with him, "Whatever," I said and picked my pants up off the floor and slid them up and buttoned them.

"I'll be outside waiting," he told me as he headed for the front door.

One thing seemed to be missing though. My shirt. I looked beside and all around the couch. Even under it. But it wasn't anywhere in sight. I furred my eyebrows trying to remember where I had put it. But instead of searching for it any further, I decided it would be quicker if I just went upstairs and borrowed one of Michael's shirts.

As I made my way upstairs, Mrs. Young popped back into my head. Would she be awake? Doubtful. She wouldn't wake up if she didn't need to.

I turned into Michael's room, but not before noticing that Mrs. Young's door was shut at the end of the hallway. It looked dark under the crack of the door, letting me know she was most likely still comfy in her bed.

Michael's room was a mess, not that it bothered me. It was never clean. Unless his mom felt like tidying it up.

I headed straight for his closet and grabbed the first shirt I saw and pulled it off the hanger. It was a plain white t-shirt. Michael had a million of 'em and I knew he wouldn't mind if I wore it. I pulled it over my head and looked in the mirror to make sure my morning wood wasn't showing anymore. It felt like it, but I saw no trace of a bulge. Maybe shooting hoops would get my mind off of what happened. Maybe it would calm me down.

***

"You stink, bro," Michael said as we made our way back into the house after an hour and a half of shooting some baskets and even playing a one-on-one game across the street on the court.

"You smell like ass," I retorted.

"You smell like 2 week old pussy," he came back. This was about to be a full out battle if he kept coming back at me.

"You smell like a giants camel toe and a bucket of ass holes." I told him.

"You smell like my moms jock strap." He laughed, thinking his was the funniest.

"Eh hum,"

We both turned our heads towards the kitchen to see Mrs. Young sitting at the bar cutting up kiwi and some other fruits and putting them in a big bowl.

"Oh shit," Michael laughed and hide his face from her. I watched as he darted for the stairs and yelled down at me, "Sorry, man, I'm showering first."

I shrugged my shoulders and looked back at Mrs. Young, she was standing in front of the sink with the water running, her back towards me now.

I walked in slowly, and took a seat at the bar and watched her, debating on whether or not I should speak. I did anyway though. "What are you doing?" I asked.

She turned slightly to look at me, then looked away. "Washing off some fruit." She told me. She turned the water off and picked up a bowl full of clean fruit out of the sink and placed it on a rag on the bar a few inches in front of me. "Help yourself."

I grabbed a strawberry from the bowl and brought it to my mouth. I hadn't realized how dry my mouth was until then.

"What have you guys been doing?" She asked. I could tell she was trying to make things how it was before, but I couldn't go back to how it was when my thoughts flashed back to her face rubbing all over my balls.

"Uh, we just went across the street and shot some hoops." I told her. Trying not to talk too much. I wanted her to know that it was different and she couldn't have her way.

"Hm," she raised her eyebrows for a second as she took a grape from the bowl. "I can smell that."

I grinned at her, not being able to help myself. "By the way," I said, "if you did have a jock strap, I think it would smell really good."

She looked away from me. Like what I said was still insulting, even though it wasn't meant to be at all. "Matthew," she sighed. "You can't talk to me like that."

I stared at her, wondering if that's what she really meant. "I already told you, it's different for me now. We can't ever go back." I told her.

"We have to." She said.

I took a piece of kiwi from the bowl and looked away from her, disappointment settling in. I didn't feel like replying at all.

"I'm sorry, Matthew, if it seems like I'm teasing you. I'm really not. I wouldn't do that, you're like apart of the family and I do care about you."

I looked back at her as she kept talking about how important I was to her and Michael and Mr. Young. How she didn't mean to make me feel like I was feeling. I just felt out of place now. And it almost made me wish last night didn't happen. How sad was that?

I felt like a little kid and like she was letting me know that I did something bad and telling me not to do it again. But I wasn't the one who did something bad. She was. She cheated on Mr. Young. And I kept wondering if she had cheated before last night.

"Is that the first time you've had an affair?" I asked flatly, hoping to make her feel bad about it.

Her eyes widened and she looked around me to make sure Michael wasn't coming down stairs. "Matthew,"

"Is it?"

"Yes," She told me. "I've never cheated on Michael's dad. And to be honest I really don't feel like I did last night when I did what I did to you."

I looked at her like she was crazy. "Are you serious? You fucking sucked my dick. That's still sex. Oral sex. But it's still sex."

Instead of replying, she just stared at me. She was at a loss for words. Probably because of the way I had just talked to her. I was never rude to her before then. But now I had a reason to be. She was a fucking tease.

"I love my husband. I told you how I was feeling last night. I thought you understood when I told you what I had told you." She never blinked or looked away from me. It was like she was begging for me to just drop it. But she still wasn't going to get her way.

"I did understand. You were feeling like a horny slut last night."

She was now looking at me like I was someone she didn't know. She dried her hands with the towel in front of her then walked around me, exiting the kitchen.

"Hey," I heard Michael's voice around the corner, "Smell me. I'm clean, ma." He laughed. "What's wrong?" He asked. Mrs. Young didn't reply to him. I heard her footsteps going up that stairs though, heading for her room probably.

"If you're still upset about that jock strap joke, I'm sorry. It didn't really mean I was talking about you." Michael called up the stairs.

I heard him walk into the kitchen and he drummed his hands on my back a few times before walking around me and standing where his mom had been standing seconds ago. He grabbed a handful of fruit from the bowl and stuffed his face. "Dude, you need to shower." He told me.

"I know." I said.

*

Chapter two will be coming soon.