My Ex-Boyfriend's Hot Mom

"Mrs. Walker!" I gasped.

"It's Jasmine," she reminded me of her preference for informality. "And I say fuck a lot, and asshole, and even, on occasion, the dreaded 'c' word."

"Cream cheese," I joked, knowing she hated cream cheese.

As she handed me the glasses and took my hand again, she smiled, "Well, that and cunt."

"Oh my God!" I said, both in awe and intrigued by seeing her like this. It was cool to learn that teachers had more dimensions than the one of prudish memory machines.

I followed her through throngs of college students dressed as sluts, drinking, dancing and groping, suddenly very happy to be with Jasmine rather than playing the game of hooking up. The screaming above the music, the fake compliments, the being objectified, the flirting, the cat and mouse game of will we or won't we hook up and if we do will it be awkward after.

Just as we were heading up the stairs, I saw Jake's black friend, Jamal and gave him a wink... he would help me win a couple of prizes with one fuck: get revenge and fuck a black guy.

She led me up the stairs and into her boudoir. It was so elegant there was no other word for it. Lush carpeting and draperies, King size four-poster canopied bed with the frilled blankets draped down to display satin sheets and pillowslips, oak dressers with delicate trim and other matching furniture... Wow!

She closed the door and asked, as she poured a couple drinks, "So have you met another guy yet?"

"God no," I shook my head adamantly.

"Why not?" she asked.

"They always end the same," I sighed, thinking of how many failed relationships I had been a part of... and how for over half of them I'd never seen the end coming.

"Men are exhausting," she concurred, as she handed me a drink.

"Tell me about it," I laughed, as I took a sip of gin. Well, truth be told, I downed half of it.... hoping to get some liquid courage to go back out there and flaunt my tits at Jamal.

Jasmine noticed and asked, "Getting some liquid courage?"

"Maybe," I shrugged, although of course that was exactly what I was doing.

"Sabrina, you are a beautiful young woman," she complimented, obviously sincere.

"I know," I nodded half-heartedly, knowing that I was ... yet also knowing that beauty was only skin deep. We both had another shot of our drinks... mine to almost finish my glass.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "I mean you're beautiful all over."

"Your son didn't think so," I sighed, insecurity again rising to the surface as I finished my drink.

She took my empty glass and went to pour me a second drink. She agreed, "My son is still a child who thinks with the wrong head."

"Isn't that the truth," I laughed, feeling completely comfortable with her as if she weren't my ex-teacher or my ex-boyfriend's mother, but a friend.

"If there's one thing that I've learned in my many years of watching my students struggle to find themselves, Sabrina, it's that young women like you are too sweet for guys your own age," Jasmine explained, handing me my second drink.

I laughed, "I've been with some older men too; they're even worse."

"Oh my dear," she smiled, standing directly in front of me. "I wasn't implying older men."

My eyes went big as the implications of her words dawned on me and as she placed both of her soft hands on my cheeks. "I mean it, Sabrina. You're the most beautiful woman I know."

My body was suddenly trembling at her sudden touch, the look in her eyes, and the sincere compliment.

I was speechless.

Overwhelmed.

Confused.

Excited.

Horny?

"My son is a good guy deep down, and he'll probably become a good man someday, but he doesn't deserve you now," she continued. "You need someone who sees through your outer beauty, into your soul and reveals the beautiful side of you that you most likely don't even know exists yet."

"I do?" I murmured hopefully, staring into her blue eyes, intoxicated by her words and seeing in her soft expression an earnest validation I'd been yearning for my whole life.

"You do," she smiled before adding, "just let yourself go and free yourself from your insecurities and doubts. They're of no use to you."

Before I had a chance to respond, she leaned in and kissed me.

I didn't kiss back at first; my head was spinning with what was happening. My ex-teacher was kissing me; my ex-boyfriend's mother was kissing me in his house while he was downstairs hitting on someone.

Then a revelation hit me.

This was going to be the perfect revenge.

I was about to fuck my ex-boyfriend's own mother!

As I began kissing back though, I realized this wasn't anything like kissing a guy... guy kisses were sloppy and rough... this was something entirely different.

It was soft and tender.

It was slow and passionate.

It wasn't about what would happen next, it was about each and every moment of the journey... a meandering journey with an unknown destination.

In just seconds I was wondering if perhaps Karen was right... I needed to cross to the other side. Sure, I had kissed a few girls in my life, but none had ever felt so intimate and so heart stopping.

My heterosexual self-image wavered as a chill went down my spine and I felt my clit stirring against my thong... a little gush of wetness leaking out.

As her tongue parted my lips, I realized I no longer cared about revenge. I yearned to make love with this beautiful and caring woman who had always been so kind and gracious to me. My thoughts drifted away for a while as I simply relished the moment to moment sensations of her soft lips pressing against mine and her warm hands stroking my cheeks with gentle caresses.

I mused over the reality that Karen would be thrilled I had crossed to her side, but also annoyed that she hadn't been the one to turn me... a term she often used when she'd made a straight girl eat pussy for the first time.

I responded to Mrs... no, to the lovely Jasmine by moving my tongue into her mouth, as her hands left my face and grasped my hips, pulling me closer to her... our breasts again pressing together.

I moved my hands to her hips as well, wanting to touch her, not really knowing what I was doing, but just following her lead.

Being with a guy is easy: show him your tits, let him maul your tits, rub his cock through his pants, fish out his cock, suck his cock and then fuck it, go wash his cum off your face, tits or belly... all this could be accomplished in under five minutes the majority of the time... and ten minutes tops, ninety percent of the time.

But this... this was different.

There was no map. I don't just mean that I didn't have one, Jasmine didn't have one either. Didn't want or need one.

We were just two travellers meandering as if taking route 55 and whatever detours might strike our fancy instead of the interstate.

When she broke the kiss, I felt a rush of disappointment... this brief moment of intimacy was unlike anything I had ever felt and suddenly it was over. My breath caught and I almost sobbed. Not a sob as in weeping, but one of inexpressible emotion.

She gazed deeply into my eyes and promised, "Tonight, dear Sabrina, I'm going to show you how you should always be treated."

"Mrs. Walker," I began to speak, even though I have no idea what my next words would have been if she hadn't corrected me.

"It's Jasmine," she reminded me again, moving into me and kissing my neck... which was, unbeknownst to her, my kryptonite.

I moaned as my entire body trembled from her hot breath and soft kisses.

"God, you smell so good," Jasmine purred, as she graced my neck with the lightest of butterfly kisses.

"It's Chanel Number 5," I whimpered, melting at her touch. Usually by now I would be having my tits used like bouncing balls, or already sucking dick... so this slow burn was driving me wild and had my cheeks and probably even my chest reddening.

"It's intoxicating," she complimented, as she slowly lowered herself to her knees.

I watched her as she smiled, looking up at me and said, "Sister, may I make a confession?"

I smiled, remembering Karen asking almost the exact same thing, although I answered much differently this time, "Go ahead my daughter, share your confessional."

Both her hands moved up my very un-Sisterly silky-clad nylon legs as she admitted, "I have wanted you ever since you were my student."

"Really?" I asked, surprised by this.

"Oh yes," she nodded, as her hands caressed their way back down my legs. "You were and you are such a sexy mixture of smart, sweet and sultry."

"That sounds scary, but I like the trepidation," I joked, not used to such compliments. The ones I usually got were slight variations on 'Wow, your tits are awesome'.

"Plus," she added, as she kissed my sheer nylon leg just above my knee, "I have a nylon fetish and you were one of the only girls who ever wore them."

I confessed, "I started wearing them for your son."

"And now you will wear them for me," she said, as she moved her hands to my thong and slowly pulled it down my legs.

As I mindlessly lifted each foot to allow her to remove my panties, I was entranced by her last sentence. Did she see this as more than just a one night stand? Did I want more than that? Did I really want this one?

I wasn't a lesbian... although I was enormously turned on by her touch and I found her incredibly attractive.

Once my panties had been tossed carelessly into a corner, she stood back up, took my hand and led me to her king-sized bed... so much grander than the twin I still slept in.

I still couldn't believe this was happening.

I was about to have my first lesbian experience with my ex-boyfriend's mom.

I had arrived here to exact revenge on the asshole, but now that I was doing it in the most epic way possible, I didn't care about the revenge... I just cared about the moment. I just cared about the thrills Jasmine was inciting in me. So when she playfully pushed me onto the bed, I allowed it... falling into the dark abyss of the unknown side of my sexuality... but ready to explore.

"Good Sister, are you ready to sin?" Jasmine asked with an evil grin, joining me on the bed.

"As God is my witness," I replied wickedly, as she lifted one foot up and removed my heel.

"These are sexy," she said. "Amazing fuck me pumps. But I'm a nylon-foot and toe gal."

"Then I'm happy I painted them today," I smiled, just as she took one of my toes in her mouth... something no guy had ever done.

"They look absolutely perfect," she complimented, as she moved her lips from one toe to the next, all the while massaging my ankle, calf and foot with her hand.

I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the double pleasing massage, the gentle, sexual attention flowing right to my pussy... which was very wet and needy.

Once she had done one foot thoroughly, she moved to the other and removed my second heel. "God, you have sexy feet. I remember trying not to stare at them as you slipped your feet in and out of your shoes the times you wore flats."

I didn't respond, still in awe that I'd had such an impact on the dignified Mrs. Walker in high school.

Once she had done all ten toes, she began moving up, kissing my leg the entire time.

I still was in awe. By now the guy would have fucked me, came and assumed that I had too. This journey of sexual awakening was a revelation not only of the reality of same-sex interaction, but that sex could be unimaginably more than wham-bam-thank-you ma'am.

"Have you ever had your pussy eaten out by a woman?" she asked, as she slithered her way up towards my nervously awaiting pussy like an erotic python.

"No," I trembled, her hot breath and teasing making my entire body quiver with anticipation. I had never been teased before, and this new experience was driving me wild.

"Do you want me to do the honours?" she asked, her face now directly between my legs and just a couple of inches from my pussy... so close I could feel her breath wafting soft waves of coolness to my hot, moist flesh.

"Yes," I whispered, knowing I wanted nothing more than to feel her tongue on my fevered pussy. "Oh dear God, yes."

She smiled, looking up at me from the positon I usually found myself with a guy, and added, "Sabrina, I've wanted this for a long time. And my desire intensified exponentially when you first walked into the house tonight. I knew I had to have you."

I couldn't resist as I questioned with the worst pun ever, "You couldn't fathom having none... nun?"

"That was bad," Jasmine laughed, but then her expression grew achingly tender as I watched her lower her face... closer... so close... and then felt her tongue graze my pussy lips.

"Oooooooh," I moaned and twitched on contact.

"You're already quite wet," Jasmine correctly recognized. I had been slowly leaking ever since I entered her boudoir and realized her intentions.

"I could feel moisture ooze out of me as soon as you kissed me," I admitted, not feeling any insecurity with her... knowing I could entrust her with anything... feeling completely at home. Feeling lovingly nurtured. The idea that I was worth loving beginning to find a place in my heart. And I couldn't remember the last time my pussy was so wet.

"Mmmmm," she purred, "I've been looking forward to this ever since I bumped into you last week."

"Really?" I asked, even though it seemed obvious. She was, after all, currently nestled between my legs.

"God you're so cute," she chuckled softly.

"I thought I was beautiful," I quipped back.

"You're cute, beautiful, sexy and..." her tongue parted my pussy lips and slowly glided upwards, "...so delectable." she finished.

"Oooooooh," I moaned. This was unmistakably the very first time I had ever had someone between my legs who actually knew what they were doing. It made me wonder how many other women Jasmine had honed her skills on... or in.

She was going slow, teasing me, kindling a flame inside me, fanning life into it, adding the fuel of her skilled tongue, teasing it into a bonfire of passion! It was a completely cathartic experience and so utterly the polar opposite of being with a guy.

"Oh yes, so good," I moaned loudly, wanting to let her know I was enjoying what she was doing, as she painted the insides of my pussy lips up and down, up and down.

"Agreed, kitten," she purred, as she kept playing me like a sexual fiddle.

She licked.

She probed.

She sucked on my clit... which made me suddenly scream, "Oh my God!"

"Well," she bantered playfully, "you are wearing the right attire."

"I don't think most nuns end up in this position," I countered.

"Oh, I imagine they do. How else can they do the whole celibacy thing? They most likely go down on each other more often than hookers on Whyte Avenue."

I laughed, shocked once again by my ex-teacher's wicked mind... a lot different than when she had spent an hour talking about the lack of realistic female characters in Shakespeare's plays, particularly Hamlet.

That made me imagine Gertrude seducing Ophelia.

I pushed the silly thought away as I returned my focus to the pleasure building inside me.

"Oh yes, Jasmine, I'm getting close," I admitted, after only a few minutes of her licking... the idea that I could come from having sex suddenly a possibility. I added, "I've never come from sex with another person before."

"Men!" she retorted with disgust, as she slid a finger inside me and hit two things I thought impossible; she found my g-spot (which I had become convinced didn't exist) and she exploded my inner bonfire into an orgasm like the firefall off Glacier Point.

The instant her fingers tapped on my g-spot I erupted, flooding her with my cum even as I screamed, forgetting there were tons of people downstairs and perhaps even quietly making out in the hallway, "Yessssss, fuck, I'm coming! I can't believe it... God bless you Jasmine, I'm actually COMING!!"

She lapped up my river of juices as my head went light, I managed to retain consciousness, and I finally discovered just how good sex really could be... this orgasm so different from the ones with my fingers or toys... and so much more intense... my very being rocked to the core... and lasting so much longer, seeming to refuse to dissipate, draining every ounce of cum and every erg of energy from me.

Finally, lying limply, stroking her hair gratefully as her soft cheek rested against my mons, I summed up all that I was thinking and feeling in one word, "Wow!"

"I'm flattered," she smiled, her face gleaming with my cum.

"It's not flattery; the evidence of your powerful impact on me is all over your face. Apparently girls can give facials too," I joked.

"We should go and get facials together," she replied, as she moved up and kissed me.

I kissed her back, tasting myself for the first time... leading me to wonder what she would taste like. I broke the kiss and offered, "I think I'd rather have a facial right now."

"Mmmmmm," she smiled, her hands tracing circles on my breasts. "You don't have to."

"I want to, dear Jasmine, I really want to," I replied and I did. I suddenly wanted to cross to the other side. I wanted to taste her sweet nectar. I wanted to attempt to give her the same pleasure she had just given me.... And for perhaps the first time in my life, I was doing it with no preconceived notions that this sex act was necessary to keep a man... but just to explore intimacy with another person, even if it was another woman, especially because that other woman was Jasmine, who right now I was feeling so much love for.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said that wasn't also one of my fantasies," she smiled, kissing me tenderly again, stroking my neck.

Breaking the kiss after a minute and feeling confident and eager, I said, rolling her onto her back, "Time to make your fantasy come true."

I felt her body tremble as I launched myself on top of her. I sat up and reverently removed her blouse, anticipating the moment I would see her breasts.

Once off, her firm, natural breasts framed perfectly in a black lace bra, she smiled playfully, "Do I get to see yours?"

"These things?" I cupped them over the nun's dress that I was still wearing.

"Yes, those adorable massive things," she nodded, her gaze wandering over my entire chest just like so many boys do.

I willingly pulled the dress over my head, revealing my own sexy lace bra. She nuzzled her cheek against it as she reached around me and unclasped my bra.

"They're even more amazing than I had imagined," she purred, instantly sucking my hard right nipple into her mouth.

"Hey, lover," I laughed, "I'm supposed to be pleasing you."

"You are dear, believe me, you are," she answered, enamored by my big breasts.

"Well then play away," I offered, greatly enjoying her infatuation with my breasts. When guys drooled over them it annoyed me or bored me, but somehow Jasmine's fixation turned me on... somehow I knew that yes, she loved my breasts and loved them very much, but also saw them as just a part of the physically and spiritually sexual being that I was.

She obviously adored them. Her attentions travelled over them endlessly, licking back and forth, sucking and cupping them... but in a tender, erotic, even respectful way, totally unlike any guy who had ever treated my breasts like two bouncing basketballs.

"Oh yes, Jasmine, suck on my titties," I encouraged, enjoying her tender attention. While she continued, I reached around awkwardly and unclasped her bra, tossing it on the floor.

She lavished my breasts with love for a few minutes before I decided I just couldn't wait any longer to have her. I playfully but aggressively pushed her onto her back and sucked on her very erect and diamond-like hard nipples. Although her breasts were half my size, they seemed to be the perfect handful.