Seducing My Friend's Mom Pt. 01

Once the popcorn was done—mercifully unburnt—I loaded up my now-full stash of snacks/drinks into my arms and began the return trip upstairs. The women didn't even give me a second look as I passed, again immersed in conversation. A few moments later, I was back in the bonus room with Drew.

"Thanks, man," Drew said, taking a water and the bag of popcorn from me. His face then grew puzzled. "You didn't grab a bowl for the popcorn?"

I'd completely forgotten, distracted as I was. "Shit. I'm sorry, dude. I'll be right back."

I made my way back to the stairs, but as I drew closer, Mrs. Carson and Mrs. Hartsell's conversation became audible. I heard my name dropped—they talking about me! I stopped moving immediately, hoping the women wouldn't realize I could hear them.

"... I'm just saying, Sydney, if I were in your shoes, I'd be all over that."

"Oh, I'm aware. You've been 'all over that' from the moment you were introduced."

I crept closer, trying to find a better listening position without creaking any floorboards. I finally made it to the top of the stairs, where I peeked around the corner to the scene below. Mrs. Carson and Mrs. Hartsell were still on the couch, their speech slightly animated from the wine they'd consumed.

"You can't blame me for having a little fun. You know I'm a flirt."

That was Mrs. Hartsell, of course.

Mrs. Carson shook her head wearily. "Oh, trust me, I know. But like I said, Luke's practically our second son. And he's barely eighteen for crying out loud. He's just a baby."

"He looks grown to me," Mrs. Hartsell shrugged. "And even you have to admit he's quite the hottie, even if he's young."

"I don't have to admit anything," Mrs. Carson retorted. "I like men with experience, not kids who are still in high school."

"Hmm, if you say so," Mrs. Hartsell said skeptically. "He's plenty into you, at least."

Oh fuck. Mrs. Hartsell was about to rat on me, I knew it. I began to panic internally.

Mrs. Carson looked dubious. "Oh, I doubt that. I'm closer to fifty than twenty, after all. Not to mention being a mom twice-over. A kid Luke's age wants girls who are young, thin, and fit... not a middle-aged, frumpy housewife like me.

"Oh, don't be so modest, Sydney. You're hardly frumpy." Mrs. Hartsell sipped from her wine glass, savoring both it and Mrs. Carson's discomfort. "Besides, I saw how Luke looks at you. He was drooling over you in the kitchen earlier. His eyes didn't leave your ass once until he realized I'd caught him staring."

I held my breath. This was embarrassing, but not as bad as if Mrs. Hartsell had told Mrs. Carson about my snapshots. Mrs. Hartsell had to have seen me... so why wasn't she sharing? Was she saving it for a later moment?

Regardless, the allegation of my staring had pushed Mrs. Carson off-balance. "You... you're clearly imagining things that aren't there. I'm sure Luke was just daydreaming and didn't realize where he was looking."

"Oh, he was daydreaming all right--daydreaming about your body," Mrs. Hartsell teased. "Besides, you know full well that hot moms are catnip to teenage boys. Don't pretend you don't. Remember what you caught Drew looking at that one time?"

Mrs. Carson gagged. "Ugh, don't remind me. And why are we talking about this anyway? Even if Luke had a crush on me, I don't need to know about it."

"I'm just saying that you could use a little extra spice in your life, and Luke might be a good way to get it." Mrs. Hartsell said. "Nothing too risqué—I know how you are—but a little flirting might be fun."

"No thanks," Mrs. Carson shook her head. "I'll leave all the flirting to you."

"Oh, trust me, I'm more than happy with that," Mrs. Hartsell grinned. "But don't be afraid to live a little either. I know you've got that wild streak buried in there somewhere still. Better to let out a little at a time than to bottle it up and have it explode all at once."

"I'll take that under advisement," Mrs. Carson said, and then changed the subject. "But what's going on now with your latest guy—Shane, was it?"

"Oh, Shane's old news. He was great at first, but then he wanted us to be official, so I had to drop him. Still too many men to experience before I settle down..."

Mrs. Hartsell continued talking, but it seemed they were done talking about me. I was relieved that my pictures hadn't come up, but now I was left with the question—why didn't Mrs. Hartsell tell on me? Why mention my staring, but not the rest?

With this new mystery to dwell on, I crept back away from the stair opening. I still needed to grab the bowl for Drew, but I didn't want to walk down right after the pair had finished talking about me. The timing would be too suspicious.

And so, I made a quick detour to the bathroom. I didn't actually have to go, but I passed the time instead looking at my new favorite pics of Mrs. Carson. The more I stared at her ass, the more impressive it became. I simply had to have more. I swore to myself that if there was any possible way to get Mrs. Carson to bare it all, I would find it.

But after a few minutes, I put my lustful thoughts away and finally went down the stairs. The women noticed me and stopped their conversation.

"Sorry, forgot a bowl." I explained, before continuing to the kitchen.

I picked a suitable bowl from the cabinet, then quickly headed back to Drew.

"What the hell took you so long?" he asked. "The game's almost back on."

"Sorry, had to make a pit stop in the bathroom. All good now," I apologized, handing over the bowl.

Drew poured the popcorn into it, then set it between us.

And just like that, we were back to the TV.

I watched the rest of the game with Drew, but my head wasn't in it anymore. I kept replaying the conversation between Mrs. Carson and Mrs. Hartsell. It was true that Mrs. Carson had sounded completely uninterested in me, but the fact that Mrs. Hartsell seemed to think that Mrs. Carson at least *should* find me attractive was a massive confidence boost. Hell, Mrs. Hartsell openly referring to me as a 'young hottie' was a confidence boost in-itself. Especially since she wasn't bad looking either. I briefly debated snagging pictures of her too, but decided I'd already risked enough that day. Too bad I likely wouldn't get another chance.

Once the game ended, Drew could tell I wasn't quite myself. He hinted that I might want to think about heading home, and although I never really enjoyed being at my house, I didn't want to overstay my welcome either. I offered to head home; an offer Drew accepted.

He walked me back downstairs, where the women were now showing off pictures to each other from their phones.

"Game's over. Luke's gonna head out now, if you guys want to say bye first," Drew said.

"Oh, already? But I haven't even been able to get to know him yet," Mrs. Hartsell said, putting on an exaggerated frown.

"Sorry, I'm kinda worn out from putting up with this guy all afternoon," I joked, tilting my head towards Drew. "It was nice to meet you, though, Mrs. Har... I mean, Lori."

"Pleasure was all mine," Mrs. Hartsell replied, looking me over again. I'd never felt more like fresh meat... but I didn't dislike it. "Let me at least give you a goodbye hug," she said, standing from the couch and walking to me.

As she reached for me, I reciprocated her embrace, pulling her body against mine. We were together only a moment, but I savored the way her toned yet soft body felt in my arms.

"Such a strong young man," Mrs. Hartsell smiled as I released her. I wasn't sure how to respond, so I nodded awkwardly, painfully aware that Drew and Mrs. Carson were right there with me.

I turned to leave, but Mrs. Hartsell spoke up again. "Wait, Luke, before you go, would you mind getting a picture of me with Drew and Sydney? I don't have one of the three of us since before Drew was in middle school."

"Uh, sure," I agreed. It was a simple request, but was it secretly linked to my own picture-taking? Or just a coincidence?

"Great," Mrs. Hartsell said, positioning herself in front of the couch and motioning for Mrs. Carson and Drew to join her. Drew rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be pulled in next to them.

I pulled out my phone and readied the camera. "Okay, squeeze together!"

The trio did so, big smiles plastered on their faces. I took several pictures until I was confident I'd managed at least one good one.

"That should do it," I announced confidently.

Pictures taken, the trio separated again. Mrs. Hartsell and Mrs. Carson walked to me, eager to view the pictures for themselves. I thanked God that my phone only displayed this most recent set, not my incriminating ones from earlier. I swiped through them, letting the women see.

They muttered approvingly, offering comments like "Oh, those are good!", "Nice job, Luke!", and "Oh, wait, Drew closed his eyes in that one."

Once I'd progressed through them all, Mrs. Hartsell addressed me directly. "Luke, mind if I borrow your phone for a second? I'll enter my contact info so you can send those to me."

I froze. Was this a trick so Mrs. Hartsell could show Mrs. Carson my pictures of her?

Mrs. Hartsell must have sensed my reluctance because she quickly followed with, "Don't worry, I won't go poking around your private stuff. I know how suspicious you young men can be."

I still hesitated. Mrs. Hartsell's reassurances aside, this still felt like a trap. But what could I do? If Mrs. Hartsell really wanted to incriminate me, she could do that even without the pictures themselves. Not knowing what else to do, I unlocked my phone and handed it over.

Mrs. Hartsell began working through my phone quickly. I couldn't see what she was doing, but I hoped she really was just adding herself to my contacts. Several seconds later, she handed it back.

"Thanks, Luke. I went ahead and sent those pictures to myself. Thanks again for playing photographer," she winked.

"Uh, you're welcome," I responded uncertainly. I was a paranoid mess—was that a secret message for me or was I reading too much into it?

I never did get a clear answer to that question. After a few more quick goodbyes, I left the Carsons behind and began my trip home.

***

As I'd mentioned in the beginning of this story, I don't like being at home. My family was absent at best, actively dysfunctional at worst. I prefer not to go into details but suffice to say that whenever I did have to spend time at home, I did my best to shut myself away in my room. Like the rest of the house, it was old, dingy, and falling apart, but at least it was mine.

Fortunately, I was alone in the house that evening. I wasn't sure if it would stay that way, so I made myself a quick dinner and retreated to my room, shutting the door behind me. As I ate, I mulled over everything that had happened earlier that afternoon. The highs from capturing Mrs. Carson bent over in front of me, followed by my paranoia of having been caught—only for nothing to come of it—had been quite the whirlwind. I felt like I was in the clear now, but the whole situation had been bizarre. Mrs. Hartsell was still a mystery to me too—her flirting with me was a definite turn-on, but it had almost seemed too forward. And then there was her conversation with Mrs. Carson about using me to spice up her life. Mrs. Carson had shot the idea down, but maybe there was something I could work with there? My past attempts at seducing Mrs. Carson had gone nowhere, but maybe I just needed to change my technique.

The swirling of these thoughts was interrupted by a text alert from my phone. Glancing down, I was shocked to see that it was from Mrs. Hartsell. I quickly pulled it up.

Hey, Luke. It's Lori. I'm done visiting Sydney and about to head back to my hotel. I know I'll be bored out of my mind, though, being there all by myself. You want to join me? I'm sure we'd have plenty to talk about.

Holy fuck. I reread the text several more times, trying to process it all. Was Mrs. Hartsell coming on to me? Was this some sort of blackmail attempt? Or was it really just as simple as she was bored?

Before I could decide on a response, my phone dinged again:

And don't be shy, Luke. I don't bite... hard.

"Holy shit," I muttered aloud. That had to mean what I thought it did, right? But it seemed too good to be true. All my years fantasizing about Mrs. Carson and all my efforts to seduce her with nothing to show for it... yet here was her best friend inviting me to her hotel after meeting me a single time. I would have given anything for the invite to come from Mrs. Carson instead... but Mrs. Hartsell certainly wasn't bad-looking. The fact that she was an older woman like Mrs. Carson made her hotter too—I'd never been with a cougar before. If Mrs. Hartsell was really offering me a hook-up, I'd be an idiot to turn it down.

And so, I made my decision, responding simply: what's the address?

***

An hour later, I pulled into the hotel parking lot. The hotel itself was nothing exceptional, but it was nice enough. I entered the lobby and found an elevator without trouble. I'd never been in a situation like this before, though, and my heart was racing. I also found myself doubting that this really was a hookup—let's be real... porn aside, middle-aged women didn't actually hookup with teenagers like me. Did they?

After some brief searching, I finally located Mrs. Hartsell's room. The hall seemed eerily empty, but I told myself it was just my nerves talking. With a deep breath, I knocked on the door tentatively.

"Be there in a moment!"

That was definitely Mrs. Hartsell's voice. Well, if nothing else, she hadn't lied about her room.

A minute later the door opened. To my shock, Mrs. Hartsell stood at the entrance clad in just a bathrobe. It was tightly wrapped, so I couldn't see anything I shouldn't have, but I was speechless nonetheless.

Mrs. Hartsell seemed amused by my reaction. "I just finished with my shower," she explained. "But come in. I'm glad you're here."

The reality of the situation finally sunk in for me. This was happening. I was getting lucky tonight.

I entered the room and Mrs. Hartsell closed the door behind us after leaving a 'do not disturb' sign on the handle.

"You want something to drink? I have some extra wine left over." Mrs. Hartsell offered, swaying past me to the middle of the room.

"Oh, I'm not old enough to drink yet," I said. Sure, I'd had alcohol before, but I refused offers from older adults by instinct to avoid trouble.

"Suit yourself," Mrs. Hartsell shrugged. "I keep forgetting you're only eighteen. You're very well developed for your age."

"Thanks," I replied, feeling both flattered and self-conscious.

Mrs. Hartsell gave me a searching look. "Here, let's sit down. Silly of us to stand when we have a perfectly comfortable bed right here."

Wow, she wasn't wasting any time at all. Not that I was complaining. I walked to one side of the bed and flopped onto it, leaning up against the headboard and stretching out my legs. I expected Mrs. Hartsell to join me on the other side, but instead she climbed onto the end of the bed and folded her legs underneath her.

I don't know if it was the situation or the lighting, but in that moment, Mrs. Hartsell seemed incredibly sexy to me. Yes, she had started to show her years and was less curvy than I preferred, but her confidence was incredibly alluring nonetheless. A good portion of her legs were visible, and I couldn't help but admire her toned calves and sun-kissed skin.

Mrs. Hartsell watched my eyes wander over her with a sly smile. "You know, this is the first time I've ever invited a teenager to keep me company."

"Well, if it helps, this is the first time I've ever been invited over by a woman. A real woman, I mean."

"Firsts for both of us, then," Mrs. Hartsell laughed softly. "So, tell me, Luke. Have you ever wondered what being with a real woman is like?"

My heart raced. I gathered long ago that Mrs. Hartsell wasn't shy, but I expected at least a little more tip-toeing around first. She must want this even more than I did.

"I wonder almost every day," I said honestly, thinking of Mrs. Carson.

Mrs. Hartsell laughed again. "You're quite the eager young man, Luke. That's good, because I'm quite the eager woman." As if to emphasize her point, she shifted her body closer to mine and began rubbing a hand gently over my jean-covered leg.

In the process of moving, Mrs. Hartsell's robe had loosened, exposing part of her chest. My eyes instinctively flickered to it. I couldn't see everything, but a small sliver of her boobs were now visible.

Mrs. Hartsell noted my unguarded stare with amusement. "Oops. I guess my robe wasn't as tight as I'd thought. But we're both adults here. No need for modesty, right?"

I shook my head slowly, feeling caught in a trance.

Mrs. Hartsell's grin widened. "Here--why don't you help me out of this? I'm feeling a little hot for it now."

My mind reeled as Mrs. Hartsell crawled towards me on all fours until she was within my reach. She was to the left of my thighs, but I could feel her body's warmth even though we weren't quite touching. Yet she was close enough that I could detect a floral scent coming from her skin... and underneath that an intoxicating yet indecipherable musky scent.

I looked up at Mrs. Hartsell; her eyes mirrored my own lust. I reached for the knot holding her robe together and pulled.

I stared in awe as the robe unraveled, opening itself up and then sliding from Mrs. Hartsell's shoulders to the bed around her. She was now completely exposed to me, and my mouth dropped open as I took in her body.

I had utterly misjudged her. Mrs. Hartsell wasn't merely generic-brand Mrs. Carson. She was a fucking smokeshow. Her tits were modest, but nevertheless they filled out well with barely any sag. Her hips weren't massively broad, but they were tastefully curved and very feminine. But her stomach was a masterpiece. It was the smooth and toned stomach of a much younger woman; not ripped or overly muscular, but strong and supple. It was the core of a woman who knew how to use it—and did so frequently.

"You like what you see?" Mrs. Hartsell's words broke my hypnosis.

"Very much so," I agreed, still awestruck.

"Well, don't let me be the only one showing off. You don't want to be unfair to a lady, now do you?" Mrs. Hartsell fake-pouted.

I couldn't take my clothes off fast enough. Seconds later, they were all on the floor beside the bed, alongside Mrs. Hartsell's robe she'd tossed over too.

"There, that's better," Mrs. Hartsell said satisfactorily. It was her turn now to run her eyes over me. "My, my, aren't you quite the young stud. I don't know how Sydney has kept her hands off you. Lucky for me, I guess."

I breathed sharply as Mrs. Hartsell touched my bare chest for the first time. She began to trace her fingertips over my pecs, making small noises of approval. "How did someone so young get so fit?"

I didn't answer, mesmerized as I was by Mrs. Hartsell's touch. After feeling my chest a bit longer, Mrs. Hartsell's hand then ran lower, reaching my abs. "Mmmm, these are very nice too" she murmured approvingly. "But now what do we have here?"

Mrs. Hartsell's hand continued to move down my body until at last it reached my manhood towering stiffly into the air. "Hot, young... and big? I've hit the jackpot tonight."

I gasped softly as Mrs. Hartsell's hand closed around my cock. She glanced at me, clearly pleased with the effect she was having.

"I have to taste this. You don't mind, do you?" Mrs. Hartsell asked casually, as if she was requesting to sample a chocolate rather than my throbbing shaft.

I shook my head dumbly, too overcome for words.

Mrs. Hartsell moved herself over my legs, straddling them, but far enough down that her head was at my pelvis. She grasped me again and then slowly began to lower her mouth over me. Her eyes never left mine, and when her lips encircled my tip, the pleasure was almost too much to bear.