Nob (Hill) Gobbler

"So why, then, do I want to be your son's friend instead of just your friend." Dan poured the rest of the vodka down his throat.

"Aaahhh," Barbara said, a smile quickly spreading across her face. "I see where you're confused, sweetie." She bent over him, cupping his cheek. Her scent wafted through his nose.

"You do?"

"Sure," she said, smoothing the back of her hand over Dan's cheek, bending over further toward him. "If you're my friend, I'd show you my suite and we might have a glass of wine," she explained, her eyes wide as though talking to a child.

"And if I'm your son's friend?"

Barbara leaned in closer and whispered in Dan's ear, her hot breath sending chills up his spine and blood to his groin. "Well, if you're my son's friend, I'll fuck you."

With that, she straightened, retrieved her briefcase, and turned on her heel, heading toward the elevators.

Dan slid the tumbler away from him, not watching as it slid slowly across the table, gliding on the surface of the pooled condensation. His eyes were trained elsewhere at the time, namely on the shapely bottom that was receding through the lounge, watching as it swayed from side to side. Dan quickly got to his feet, and caught up with Barbara as she reached the elevator to the old part of the hotel.

As they waited for the elevator to arrive, the couple said nothing; Barbara, briefcase in one hand, merely followed the numbers on the panel above the elevator door as they ticked down to "L." An elderly couple joined them in their wait, and the four boarded the elevator when its doors chimed open.

Barbara stood in the back of the cab as it began its ascent, again saying nothing to him, again just watching the numbers tick, this time upward, toward the fourth floor. When she exited, Dan followed her, a puppy dog hoping for its treat. She led him down the wide, tall hallway, and around two corners, before stopping before a door. Inserting her key, she pushed the door open and beckoned Dan to follow. Follow, Dan did, and he took a brief moment to observe the mini-suite that was Barbara's home for a few nights.

"Would you like that drink now?" she inquired as she set her briefcase on the desk, her back to him.

"Sure. What do you have?" Dan removed his suit coat, and placed it over the back of a chair at a small dining table.

Barbara turned to face him. "Actually, I don't really feel like another drink tonight. I think I've had enough." She paused, a sly smile creasing her features. "Hey, were you trying to get me drunk tonight?" A hand floated to the pearl button the held the top of the cashmere sweater closed. A subtle flick and the button came free.

Dan laughed, somewhat nervously. "Not at all. I think it was YOU that was trying to get ME drunk." A second button came loose as Dan spoke.

"Don't be silly, sweetie. That wouldn't be appropriate. After all, I could get in trouble for supplying alcohol to my son's friends." Barbara worked the last button free, and shrugged the pink sweater of her shoulders. It fell to the ground behind her in a whisper.

Dan felt his heart beating against his chest. "Lucky I picked up the tab, then," he managed to respond, as Barbara moved past him toward the couch.

"Mmm. Lucky for me, anyway. Or should I say, lucky for my client." Barbara sat on one end of the couch, draping one tanned leg over the other, and lightly patted the cushion next her. Dan walked the few steps and sat down, but at the opposite end.

Barbara's lower lip curled out in a mock pout. "Over here, Dan," she implored, again patting the cushion next to her.

"I don't want to seem inappropriate, Barbara. If it's inappropriate for you to buy alcohol for me, then surely it would be inappropriate for me to sit so close to you behind closed doors."

"'Barbara'? Don't you mean, 'Mrs. Erickson'?"

Dan looked confused for a moment, but soon realized his error. "Of course. Mrs. Erickson. I'm sorry."

"Think nothing of it. And of course it would. Be inappropriate, I mean," she said, slowly inching toward him along the cushions of the couch. Her legs uncrossed as she moved, and the silk of her skirt caught on the fabric of the cushion, exposing more of her delicious thighs. "But wouldn't you agree that this evening has already taken a turn towards the inappropriate?"

As Barbara moved closer to Dan, he inhaled her scent. He felt a light sweat break across his forehead, and his palms were getting clammy. "Yes, I suppose it has."

"You 'suppose'?" Barbara laughed at this, a soft, sultry laugh. "My husband's two thousand miles away, tucked safely in bed. I've invited a man almost young enough to be my son up to my hotel room. Isn't that inappropriate?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her body brushed against him, and her right hand reached out and lightly rubbed his thigh.

"I'm sure your husband would think so," Dan responded, his tone matching hers.

"I'm certain he would. And he would also find it inappropriate that I rubbed my little foot against your crotch in the lounge, wouldn't he?" Looking into her eyes as she spoke, Dan almost jumped when her fingers traced lightly over the bulge in his crotch.

"Mmm-hmm," he managed.

Barbara's fingers traced a squiggly line up Dan's bulge and found his belt buckle. Without tearing her eyes from his, she gently loosened the buckle and pulled the belt free. "And do you think what I whispered in your ear tonight was inappropriate?"

"Uhn-uhn."

"No? Well, let me ask you this, then," she continued, her voice soft in the silence of the room. "Do you think my husband – not you, but my husband – would have found that to be inappropriate?" As the words tumbled over her full, pink lips, Barbara's fingers grasped the fabric surrounding the button to Dan's pants and popped the button loose.

"Positively," Dan said with a nod. To his ears, the sound of his zipper descending drowned out his own voice.

Barbara gave a slight tug at his pants, and Dan lifted his butt from the cushion. "And what did I whisper in your ear, young man? What was it that I said to you?" she inquired, sliding his pants down his legs until they were pooled at his ankles.

"You said, if I was one of . . ." Dan briefly lost the ability to speak when Barbara reached into his boxers with her right hand and pulled his thick cock from its confines, her cool hand contrasting wickedly to the intense heat that emanated from the shaft.

"Yes . . . continue," she taunted him as she scraped her nails lightly along the underside of the exposed pole.

Dan had regained his senses, for the time being anyway, though he was beginning to pant under her ministrations. "You said . . . that if I . . . was one of . . . your son's friends . . . you would have . . . sex with me." As he spoke, Barbara wrapped her dainty fingers around his cock and began a gentle up-and-down stroking motion. Against the silence that enveloped the hotel suite, the sound of the pearls of her bracelet clattering against each other was almost deafening.

"Not sex, Dan," she intoned. "I said I would fuck you. Isn't that right?"

"Hmm-mmm." Dan again found it difficult to form sentences as the speed of Barbara's stroking steadily increased.

"Do you want to fuck me, Dan?" she asked needlessly as she paused to spread the leaking pre-cum around the edges of his cockhead.

"Yyyeeesss," he hissed, eyes closed, hands reaching out and grabbing the seat cushions.

"Yes, what?" Barbara resumed stroking the thick shaft, picking up where she left off, her effort becoming more vigorous.

"Yes, please," he almost whined.

Barbara slowed her antics. "I see your mother taught you manners, but that wasn't what I was looking for." She leaned toward him, her soft lips brushing against his ear. Blowing hot breath, sending chills up his spine and causing him to shiver in his lust for this woman, she whispered, "'Yes, Mrs. Erickson.' Isn't that what you mean?"

"Oohh, ggaawwdd," Dan groaned, as Barbara brought her hand to her mouth and gracefully – somehow gracefully – allowed a certain amount of saliva to escape from between her luscious lips and collect in the palm of her hand. When she placed her saliva-slicked hand back around Dan's pulsing cock, he continued, "Yyyeeesss, Mrs. Erickson."

"Yes, Mrs. Erickson, what?" she again whispered, her lips still at his ear. "I want to hear you say it, young man," she demanded. Barbara's vigorous tugging of Dan's cock turned brutal, vicious. She felt the blood pumping rapidly through the veins that criss-crossed the young cock, and an intense heat that melded her palm to it.

"Yes, Mrs. Erickson, I want to fuck you," he grunted. Barbara left a soft kiss on Dan's earlobe and down the side of his neck, and turned to take in the rigid shaft encased in her tugging grip. She stared briefly, and watched as the head turned bright purple – angry purple almost – and then shiny. Pre-cum flowed liberally from the darkened slit, aiding her efforts and bringing Dan untold pleasure. She realized that if she didn't slow down, strands of thick sperm would soon follow the pre-cum, so she slowed her shucking, loosening her grip.

Barbara's free hand drifted up from her lap and found the top button to his dress shirt. She freed it, and the next five buttons after it, with little effort, spreading the plackets and exposing Dan's hairless, muscular chest. "You wanna fuck your friend's mom, Dan?" she teased him as she planted additional wet kisses along his neck and the top of his chest.

"Oh god, yes," he moaned. Barbara smoothed her right hand across his firm pectoral muscles and down across his taut stomach. Kicking a leg over one of his, she used her foot – still clad in a conservative heel – to push Dan's shoes off, and ease his pants over his feet.

"Are you going to give me my fantasy, Dan?" she whispered as her shiny lips found one of his nipples and sucked into her wet mouth. Dan could only moan in response. "Do you know what my fantasy is, young man? Do you know what it is I really want? What I want right now?"

With a light bite, Barbara released Dan's nipple from her mouth and kicked her leg the rest of the way over Dan's body. She pulled herself up so that was straddling him, her skirt now bunching around her waist, her arms encircling his neck, the warmth of her body pressing against his naked torso.

Dan couldn't respond. His senses were being overloaded. His cock was trapped between his stomach and her panty-covered vagina. Despite the silk barrier, he could feel her heat, her humidity, her wetness. He released his grip on the cushions, and his arms encircled her waist, resting on the tops of her ass cheeks.

Barbara adjusted herself and placed her lips at his ear, breathing heavily. Dan shuddered as his mind comprehended the wet sounds that penetrated his inner ear. "I've always wanted to fuck one of Jack's friends. To feel a fresh, young cock stretching my pussy wide."

Without waiting for his reaction, Barbara let her body slide down his, leaving wet kisses along his neck, collarbone, and chest. As she slowly descended toward her knees – like caramel dripping from an ice cream sundae – the bottom hem of her silk chemise caught on the tip of Dan's cockhead, slowly pulling the top up as she continued her downward journey.

"So, do you think you can fulfill my fantasy, Dan?" she queried, sliding further to her knees. Dan again shuddered as the warm skin of Barbara's taut belly smoothed its way along the underside of his cockhead.

"I'll . . . I'll certainly try," he stuttered as Barbara came to rest on her knees, between his thighs. She lifted the silk top over her breasts and let it fall to her side. Her breasts were not overly large. After all, she was not a porn star or a freak of nature. Her husband would not countenance implants and, anyway, Barbara had no real need of them: encased in a white, silk bra sat two well-formed, 34C breasts, a hint of a tan line peeking above the top of one of the cups.

"Try to what?" she continued, her hand again closing around the thick cock, tugging it up and down. Dan closed his eyes and was again assailed with the sound of the clunking pearls on her wrist as she increased both her speed and her grip on him. She waited in silence for his response.

"I'll try . . . to be . . . your fantasy." He could not stop stuttering.

"And I'll be yours." With that, Barbara dropped her head over Dan's cock, and took the head into her wet mouth, sucking it between her lips. As the ridge of the head passed between her full lips – shiny now with her own saliva and his pre-cum – she took more of the shaft into her mouth, pausing occasionally to swipe her tongue across the sensitive head.

"Jesus Christ," Dan muttered beneath his breath. "That feels so fucking good, Barbara."

She abruptly pulled the shaft from her mouth, and gently squeezed down at the base of his shaft. "That feels so fucking good, who?" she inquired with mock seriousness.

Dan's eyes had popped open when he felt the cool air of the hotel suite on his cock. "Mrs. Erickson. Mrs. Erickson, I mean. Sorry," he murmured.

Satisfied, Barbara resumed stroking the overheated shaft. "Try to remember, Dan. You're here to be my fantasy, right?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"And you remember what my fantasy is, don't you?" Barbara increased the pace of her stroking as she grilled him.

"Yyeess," he hissed.

"What is it? Tell me again," she demanded. Her tugging again became rough, almost brutal, but their saliva/pre-cum combination prevented it from being painful. "I don't want you forgetting."

"To fuck . . . one of your . . . son's friends," Dan panted.

"That's right, young man. And what are you? Who are you tonight? Hmm?" The speed of Barbara's hand continued to increase, almost violent now.

"One of . . . your son's . . . friends," he almost cried out.

Barbara relented and bent to take the engorged cock between her lips. Her head bobbed up and down, her tongue snaking out and gliding along the underside of Dan's shaft each time she began a downward bob. His head lolled back and forth, his eyes screwed shut. With very little of Barbara's treatment, Dan felt that he was on the verge of cumming; his hands again gripped the cushions and his pelvis involuntarily arched up and into Barbara's face, driving his cock deeper into her mouth than she had expected. When the cockhead rammed into the back of her throat, she gagged, and pulled it from her mouth.

"Easy, young man," she coughed, one hand still stroking him, the other planted just above the root of his cock, holding him steady. "I'm not the town whore," she said gently. "Treat me with a little respect. Treat me like I'm the mother of one of your friends." With that, Barbara again sucked the young cock into her wanton mouth.

Dan groaned at her instructions, thinking back to Mrs. Morgan, Steve's mother. Through his lust-fogged brain, he knew Barbara didn't mean what she really said. Dan didn't think she would appreciate being treated the way Mrs. Morgan liked to be treated. But the memory evaporated quickly.

He opened his eyes and reveled in his view. Barbara was on her knees before him, her shiny, pink lips stretched around his swollen cock. Her baby blue eyes rested easily, comfortably on his; he could see her smiling through them when she again popped his slick cock from her mouth.

"Enjoying yourself, young man. Isn't this what you want? To fuck your friend's mom? The neighborhood MILF? The cougar you meet in the hotel bar?" Barbara placed just the cockhead – purple and shiny now – between her lips, holding it there securely. Her right hand began a vigorous stroking of the shaft. Somewhere overhead, Dan heard an air conditioner kick on. The faint hum was accompanied only by the jangling of the strand of pearls on her wrist as Barbara's right hand stroked up and down Dan's abused shaft.

She dropped her left hand from his thigh and cupped his balls, gently kneading them, rolling them across fingers, dragging her nails across sensitive skin of the ball sac. Occasionally, her fingers would dart down and tickle his perineum. Dan's cockhead swelled between her lips, and she felt an increased heat wash over them. Dan was about to cum.

Barbara wanted to leave the bloated cockhead where it was. She wanted to wrap her fist even tighter around the twitching shaft. She wanted to give this young man what he so desperately wanted – release within her hot, sucking mouth. She wanted to revel in this wickedness she had never known, the almost sinful act of an older woman giving herself up to a young man. But she wasn't ready for all of that yet. She wasn't ready for him to cum.

She released the searing cockhead from her lips and gradually slowed the pace of her stroking. As Dan's breathing returned to normal, Barbara stood before him and reached beneath her skirt with both hands. When they reappeared, Dan watched as her elegant fingers lightly pulled the silk panties down her shapely thighs. She straightened, losing her grip on the panties, and he watched as they fell to a puddle at her feet.

Barbara stepped from the twisted silk garment, and again straddled his waist. She reached behind her and released the catches at the back of her bra. As it fell from her chest, Dan inhaled at the sight of them. Barbara's breasts were clearly not augmented. At forty-three, they hung – just slightly, but nonetheless hung – from her chest. A crisp tan line formed a triangle around each mass, and a thin, almost indiscernible white line connected the bottoms of the triangles. Her areolas were broad, smooth, pinkish-brown in color. At the center of each areola sat a nipple, almost indistinguishable from the flesh surrounding it.

"Beautiful," he muttered. Dan's hands move to touch her, to feel her breasts, to squeeze them and feel the soft, pliant flesh mold to his fingers, ooze between them. But Barbara had other ideas, and she leaned forward and placed one magnificent breast at Dan's mouth.

Her pelvis shifted forward, and moisture that had collected at the entrance of her vagina dripped lightly along the length of Dan's cock. As Barbara leaned further toward him, he felt a tuft of soft hair tickle the underside of his cock. It lurched upward, bumping against the splayed lips of her vagina, and she let out a soft moan at the contact.

As Barbara's breast approached his mouth, Dan's lips parted almost involuntarily, and he took the flattened nipple between them and sucked. He sucked more, and the areola disappeared into his mouth. Unseen to anyone that could have been watching, Dan swirled his tongue around the nipple, feeling it harden and lengthen in his mouth. He swiped his tongue over the smooth skin of the areola; goose bumps rose from the flesh.

Barbara snaked a hand behind his head and pulled him closer, urging him to suck her harder. Dan felt her nails dig into his scalp. Her hips began to shift up and down; each time her labia accidentally brushed against Dan's cock, it heaved and pushed more forcefully at her entrance, occasionally slipping against her exposed clitoris.

"Your lips on me feel so good, sweetie," she moaned, rocking her hips more insistently now. Dan released the breast from his mouth and, placing his hands on her torso, shifted Barbara's little body to give him access the neglected breast.

"Amazing breasts, Mrs. Erickson. Absolutely amazing," he responded before taking the unattended nipple between his lips, his teeth nibbling lightly at the sensitive flesh.

Barbara trembled at his words. At forty-three, and married, she thought she was past the age of caring what other people thought of her physical attributes, past the age of trying to attract men. But Dan's attention to her in the lounge, and his praises of her body and her beauty, proved her wrong. It excited her immensely to know that her body was still able to thrill men, and not just her husband, either.