My Best Friend's Mother

I had been friends with Peter Verhooven since grade school. We'd played little league as well as getting into a lot of trouble together, but of a more innocent variety, unlike many of the kids of today. As we had gotten older and reached our teens we stayed friends even though we now had as many differences as we did similarities. In spite of that we were as close as ever with the fact that we lived within a ten minute walk of each other certainly being a contributing factor.

Our friendship in fact directly led to me losing my virginity during the summer when I was eighteen years old, not that I could ever have told him that or shared the story. Peter was the baby of his family with a sister who was three years older than he was and a brother even older who'd moved out on his own. His father was of German/Dutch ancestry and his mother's side was Italian. His sister Linda was a good looking girl with dirty blond hair and buttery skin who had inspired many fantasies in my short life.

On more than one occasion she'd given me fodder for my masturbatory activity. Like this one time she had been wearing a hoodie with the zipper down and no shirt or bra underneath it and depending on the angle I was looking at her from I caught many glimpses of her soft breast and pink nipple. Once I even made out with her after she had recently broken up with a boyfriend. Both Linda, my friend Peter and I had smoked some hash and afterwards she had met me in the driveway and beckoned me to join her in her garage. She asked if I wanted to kiss her and I eagerly assented. Linda told me to keep my hands to myself and just follow her lead. I'll never forget how soft her lips were or how great she smelled.

We only kissed for a couple of minutes when she was spooked by the next door neighbor coming home. I never got another chance to repeat this but the worst part was I never could say anything about it as it would have gotten back to Peter. When we were seventeen his parents had divorced but I think they had been having problems for a while before that, because I remembered times where I was over their house and you could cut the tension with a knife.

So Peter's father had moved out of the house and his mother had resumed working due to the situation but otherwise things seemed to remain the same. They were hardly the only family to go through divorce at that time as the sixties had let the genie out of the bottle in regards to the stability of family life in America. As the seventies passed and the eighties approached I doubt there was a corner of America that escaped the societal upheaval.

Be that as it may, it wasn't like I sat around worrying about the disintegration of the American family. I was a teenager having fun as I listened to music, hung out with my friends, worked out, got drunk or high, worked part time jobs after school and ineptly chased girls. Most of my difficulty with girls stemmed from me being somewhat shy and I also had the tendency of being tongue tied around members of the fairer sex. Being drunk or high somewhat mitigated that but it also had the effect of scaring away girls who weren't partiers or didn't wish to hang out with guys who were.

Plus when under the influence I might well have the gift of gab but often what I said was nonsense or stupid and certainly nothing that would endear me to a young lady. The only girl I actually liked as a person had broken my heart when I caught her drunkenly making out with a bitter rival of mine which definitely didn't help my confidence. So there I was, eighteen with no girlfriend while guys not as good looking as me managed to score with girls due to a glib tongue.

This particular summer afternoon I'd worked my part time job for a few hours and after getting off I was looking for something to do. On my way home I had smoked some primo Thai weed as I cut through the park and feeling mellow I decided to stop by my friend Peter's house to see if he wanted to hang. It was one of those sweltering summer days that in retrospect seem more enjoyable but at the moment when the sweat is dripping down your body you long for the cooler temperatures to come.

His house was green and believe it or not there was a white picket fence in the front. I headed up the driveway and went to the back door that led to the kitchen as that was the entrance I always used. After climbing the steps I rapped lightly on the glass section of the door. If no one answered I'd usually throw pebbles at his bedroom window which was located in the back of the house. The sound of a radio playing was clearly coming from the nearby open kitchen window so I knocked louder this time.

After that I heard the sound of a chair scraping along the floor followed by footsteps after which the back door opened. To my surprise it wasn't Peter or his sister who answered the door but his mother who normally was at work at this time of day. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet as she stood in the doorway and her eyes were red as if she'd been crying.

"Oh hello Thomas," she said as she always referred to me by my full Christian name instead of Tom or Tommy like most people did.

"Hi Mrs. Verhooven, is Peter here?" I asked but before she had a chance to answer there came the sound of glass breaking from inside the kitchen.

"What's that?" she said turning away from me and toward the noise. "Buttercup no; get away from there."

After saying this Mrs. Verhooven moved away from the door. Buttercup was their family cat and as I stepped inside pulling the door behind closed me I saw the feline leap from the kitchen table and scurry off in the opposite direction. An open bottle of red wine sat alone on the table and there was a broken wine glass as well as a pool of wine on the kitchen floor.

"Stupid cat," she said to no one in particular as she grabbed a towel from by the sink and bent over to wipe up the mess.

To be honest maybe I should have been polite and asked her if she wanted any help but I was entranced as I watched her. Mrs. Verhooven had always been an attractive woman but there was something about the way she looked that day that had me mesmerized. She was wearing a gauzy floral print dress which seemed to shimmer as she moved and usually her black hair was up in some kind of bun-like hairstyle but that afternoon it was hanging free with long strands of it sticking to her neck due to the humidity.

As she wiped up the dark red fluid I couldn't help but notice her big, round ass and ample hips swaying back and forth as she moved. Maybe it was due to the sweltering heat or the fact that I was high or just that I was a horny teenager but without realizing it my hand crept to my crotch and fondled my growing erection. Suddenly my brain came to life but before I could move my hand Mrs. Verhooven turned my way. I'm not sure which of us was more surprised - me for being caught playing with myself as I ogled her or Mrs. Verhooven at discovering her son's best friend was rubbing himself while he stared at her big Italian ass.

Her mouth opened wide with shock and the next thing I knew she cried out and dropped the towel before lifting her hand. There was now blood seeping from a cut in her hand as she winced in pain from the wound. That cleared my head somewhat and I sprang into action, first helping her to her feet before guiding her to the sink. My eyes examined her cut and it didn't look too bad, certainly not deep but there appeared to be a sliver of glass still imbedded in her flesh. Turning on the cold water I held her hand under the flow and with some satisfaction I watched the glass forced from the cut and into the sink.

"Keep it under the water until the bleeding stops," I told her before asking "where do you keep the first aid supplies Mrs. Verhooven?"

It took her a moment to answer as she appeared somewhat confused by the turn of events but she then told me upstairs in the bathroom medicine cabinet. Before heading up there I took a wad of paper towel and covered the mess on the floor with the hope that if the cat reappeared it would keep it away from the shattered glass. I bounded up the stairs two at a time and removed peroxide and band aids from the cabinet before returning to the kitchen.

Mrs. Verhooven still had her hand under the stream of water but the blood had slowed to less than a trickle. Quickly I wiped her hand dry then I poured some peroxide over the cut. She made a face but didn't say anything. Next I applied a band aid tightly then inspected my handiwork.

"Well Thomas, will I live do you think?" she asked with a smile.

"I believe the prognosis is excellent Mrs. Verhooven, but I'm not a doctor. Now sit down and I'll clean this mess," I told her.

Putting my words into action I blotted up the sticky liquid along with the shards of glass. Knowing from past visits where the broom was kept I retrieved it and made sure I hadn't missed any fragments before finally wiping down the floor one more time with a wet towel. Once finished I discarded the towel and turned to Mrs. Verhooven who was watching me with a bemused smile on her pretty face. I noticed there now were two wine glasses on the table filled with wine.

"Very impressive job Thomas, there is no way Peter would be so efficient. Now sit here so I can thank you for your gallant service," she said patting the chair next to her.

Somewhat apprehensively I sat down, remembering at the least that I was one of the reasons she had cut her hand. The fact that she was startled at seeing me touching myself probably caused her injury and I was fearful of what she now was going to say. She looked into my eyes and I found myself out of my league and feeling like I could drown in their brown depths.

"Thomas first let me thank you for your timely first aid. You didn't panic and you did a wonderful job," she said to which I mumbled a thank you.

"Now have a sip of wine," she said pushing a glass towards me.

"Umm, I don't know Mrs. Verhooven if I should be drinking wine," I answered to which she laughed in reply.

"Oh please Thomas, I know for a fact that both you and my son drink whenever you think you can get away with it. And by the way I never did answer your original question due to circumstances but Peter is spending this afternoon and night with his father. Also unless my nose isn't working right you've been smoking one of those funny little cigarettes so some nice vino from Italia shouldn't be a problem. Besides with what I'm about to say I think you may need it."

On hearing that I felt my mouth dry up and my stomach got a sinking feeling so I picked up the glass and swallowed it down in one gulp before placing it back on the table. What kind of trouble would I be in now I wondered to myself as I felt the wine slide down my throat. If she told my family, or even worse Peter, that I was touching myself while I watched her I didn't know what the consequences would be when her voice brought me back to reality.

"The wine is good, right?" she said but she didn't seem to really expect an answer. "Thomas do you think I'm attractive, is that why you were playing with your cock?" she suddenly asked, shocking me as much by using the word cock as with the question itself. I hemmed and hawed not knowing what to say to her.

"It's a simple question Thomas and I think I deserve an answer when a young man who has been welcome in my house for ten years suddenly starts rubbing his private parts as he watches me. So am I attractive?"

At this point with what had already happened I decided that I should tell the truth before throwing myself on her mercy. That was the only chance I had to make things right.

"Mrs. Verhooven," I began, "first let me apologize for what I did, especially as it led to you being cut. As far as your question the answer is yes, you are attractive; in fact I think that you're beautiful. That in no way is an excuse for my behavior and I don't know how I can make up for it."

Mrs. Verhooven now stood and she seemed to tower over me as she drained the last bit of wine from her glass before refilling them both.

"Not only am I attractive but beautiful as well. I like that. Well tell me this Thomas, do you also think I'm sexy and have you ever fantasized about me, in a sexual way?"

Part of me wanted to get up and flee as it seemed I was in an alternate universe suddenly but most of me wanted to stay where I was. Even so I was unable to meet her gaze as I answered.

"I think Mrs. Verhooven, that you want me to be honest with you so the answer is yes to all questions. You are definitely sexy and I have to admit that I have thought of doing things, sexual thing with you."

After saying that I peeked up at her and she had a pleased expression on her face like the cat that ate the canary. What she did next shocked me as she leaned down and kissed me. When our lips met it was like the greatest feeling I'd felt in my short life. They were warm and full and they tasted like wine and the next thing I knew she had straddled me and sat on my lap. My cock sprang to life as it seemed like half my blood supply flowed rapidly to my member.

My hand went around her waist as I pulled her closer while her tongue worked between my lips and began to explore my eager mouth. Her large, soft breasts pushed against my chest as we kissed and I felt her fingers running through my hair. The longer we kissed the more frenzied she became and when she felt my hard on pressing into her she began to grind her pelvis into it.

A moan escaped my mouth as she stimulated me like that and for a moment I was afraid I would cum in my jeans. Here I was an eighteen year old virgin and my friend's mother, a beautiful, voluptuous woman, was kissing me as she sat on my lap and rubbed her mature body against my cock. When she broke the kiss to catch her breath my mouth found the olive skin of her neck and began to kiss and suck it. Without conscious thought my hand traced its way up her body until it reached the side of her breast. Now it was Mrs. Verhooven who squirmed and moaned as I returned the favor by driving her crazy with desire. Suddenly her hand pulled my head back by my hair and she stared intently into my eyes.

"Thomas I know it isn't the right thing to do but right now I don't care about that. Today I need to be desired and treated like a woman, a sexual woman. I want you and I can feel that you want me too."

When she said the word feel she really rubbed against my erection driving me close to the brink of orgasm.

"Do you want to come upstairs with me now?" she asked.

"Yes Mrs. Verhooven more than anything in the world," I told her.

Smiling she stood and took me by the hand at which point I stood and let her lead me toward the staircase.

"And by the way Thomas, at least for today, maybe you should call me Maria."

"Okay. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman, Maria," I said with a smile directed at her.

"You are quite the charmer young man and with your looks I don't understand why you're not having to fight the girls off but then again that leaves you for me."

Of course it was the weed and wine that allowed me to speak that way with her as if I'd been sober I probably would be stuttering by now. We climbed the stairs, with her before me which allowed me to watch her ass sway as she preceded me. Once we reached the second floor she turned and embraced me. Again we kissed but this time it was my tongue that worked into her mouth where she eagerly sucked on it.

When we broke the kiss she again led me forward where we passed the doors to both Peter's and Linda's rooms and into her own bedroom. In all the years I'd visited the house I had never seen into this room before. It was painted blue with thick, white drapes covering the windows and beige carpeting on the floor. There was a solid four post bed as well as a dresser, night table and vanity all appearing to be made of walnut plus a heavy mahogany chest which rested at the foot of the bed.

I observed all this while she pulled me into the room and brought me to the side of the bed. She pulled the bedspread off and dropped it onto the chest before sitting on the edge of the mattress and looking up at me with a lustful expression on her attractive face.

"Why don't you undress for me Thomas," she said while licking her full, red lips.

I yanked my shirt over my head revealing my hairless chest and six pack abs. My hands fumbled as I undid my pants and then pushed them and my underwear down past my knees freeing my stiff cock. It swayed slightly as I moved, bobbing about in anticipation of what was to come. Kicking off my sneakers I then stepped out of my pants leaving them pooled on the floor.

Her hand reached out and she grasped me, her long fingers wrapping around my thickness. Slowly she ran her hand up and down the length of my erection. She tightened her grip right below my swollen head making me moan with pleasure. She then leaned forward and bestowed a kiss on my head before she released me and stood up and turned away from me.

"Would you mind unzipping me?"

She didn't have to ask me twice, I can tell you that. My thumb and finger seized the tiny zipper and pulled it down exposing the smooth skin of her back as well as the back of her brassiere. She slipped the dress off her shoulders and let it cascade down to the floor.

"Perhaps you could unhook me as well?" Maria asked.

Eagerly I complied with her request, freeing her large magnificent bosom though at first I only caught a side glimpse. But when she turned back to me I was breathless at the sight of them. They hung low from their heavy weight and were full with large nipples and areolas. To say they were more than a handful was an understatement. Maria was a voluptuous woman with ample curves and that was very evident on beholding her breasts.

Again she sat in front of me and then took my erection in her hand. Up and down her hand slid across my flesh; sending my senses reeling from the attention. Suddenly Maria leaned forward and took me into her willing mouth, her wet lips closing on my shaft right below my sensitive head. I thought I'd faint from the feeling it gave me and then she started bobbing her head up and down while at the same time her tongue ran along the underside of my head.

Maria didn't do it for long and if she had I would've exploded in her mouth in less than a minute I believe. Instead she pulled her mouth from me and after a final flick of her tongue on my head she resumed stroking me. Her saliva made my skin slick making it easier as she rapidly pumped my shaft when her other hand gently cradled my full balls. That was too much to bear for my sensitive equipment and with a loud groan I felt my cum speeding its way up the shaft.

There was no chance to warn Maria, but since she had me by the balls she should have felt them convulsing as they emptied. The first shot flew out and hit her neck with a soft splat before she aimed my cock lower as her hand continued to stroke me. Shot after shot of my thick, white cum landed on her full breasts as I grabbed her by the shoulders to help me remain standing as I felt weak in the knees. When I looked down I saw Maria staring intently at my cock as it fired my seed with a look of wonder on her face. Maria realized I was watching her and smiled up at me.

"Sorry, but I never saw one cumming from so close before," she said almost apologetically.

"That's okay, did you enjoy the view?" I answered.

"Very much so," she told me as her hand squeezed one last drop from my now extra sensitive cock. It hung for an instant before falling and landing on her full breast. She leaned in and kissed the tip before laughing. Maria reached to her night table and pulled some tissues from a box and daubed at her sperm coated bosom.