The Good Mom Ch. 02

Chapter Two – Meeting Mother’s Friends

Richard Carter awoke with a raging hardon which had been the case ever since puberty. He reached under the pillow and took out his mother’s panties and pantyhose that he had filched from the laundry basket yesterday. After her friends had left last night he was going to blow his load into them while watching his mother through the peephole in the connecting wall. He would watch her undress and hopefully use the vibrator but he’d gone to bed angry instead.

He draped the gauzy nylon over his cock and inhaled the scent of his mother’s vaginal juices in the crotch of her panties and gave his cock a gentle rub. The slippery smooth nylons felt delightful against the sensitive flesh of his penis.

He suddenly had an idea and leapt from his bed, the pantyhose dangling from his cock like a limp diaphanous flag and opened the wardrobe and removed the knot in the back wall and pressed his eye to it.

Richard was too late. Emily was fully dressed and was smoothing the wrinkles out of her nylons, placing one foot up the chair then the other to facilitate the act. As much as Richard liked watching his mother fiddle with her stockings it was hardly a masturbatory gem. He gave his cock a couple of desultory strokes and lost interest when his mother walked out the door. The nylons and panties went into the cache in the hidey-hole.

He arrived at the breakfast table freshly showered and wearing casual clothes which earned him a reproachful grimace.

“How long are you going to hang around my house moping Richard? I told you what to do. Take that pouting, spoiled, limpet of a wife of yours to a marriage councillor or just knock some sense into her. In my day women did not disobey their husbands,” Emily looked up at her son over the brim of her coffee cup.

“Well daddy didn’t stick around long enough to teach me that did he. He died when I was ten. Did daddy knock sense into you mom? You certainly recovered well enough after he died,” Richard regretted saying it as soon as the words left his mouth.

“You don’t know what your daddy did to me and never will. I was a good wife and a good mom and I’ve done the best I could for you since your father died,” Emily replied, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

This was always his mother’s defence. She had done the best she could, which was a lot. Richard owed his existence, his education and his livelihood to her and she always found subtle ways to remind him. The apron strings were never far away.

“Another thing mother. What was Susan Connaught’s snide remark about me taking her pantyhose all about? What have you told your friends about me?” Richard barked.

“Women gossip, Richard. When you were a boy we gossiped about our husbands and our children and about each other,” Emily sipped her coffee and then continued.

“Women our age had nothing else to gossip about back then. There was no internet or twenty-four hour news cycle or Real Housewives. We tended to the house, tended to our children and made our husband’s happy. The lucky ones had a few spare minutes during the day to watch soaps,” Emily carefully put her cup down in the saucer and turned the handle to the precise angle that decorum dictated.

“Of course when we’d had a few too many libations we spoke about things that we considered a little spicy. Bedroom things. You know what I mean,” Richard watched his mother blush.

“Your father and I held pool parties regularly back when your father was alive. Do you remember them?” Emily brightened suddenly as she recalled ‘the good old days’.

Richard nodded.

“The men stood around the barbeque drinking and telling jokes. We wives knew the jokes were lewd. We wore tight bathing suits; the more adventurous wore bikinis and we knew the men were looking at us and comparing notes so we did the same and compared our husbands’ performances,” the colour returned to Emily’s face.

“Then when your father was gone, I had no stories to tell,” Emily sighed.

The truth was Emily would never tell anyone about what really went on in their bedroom on Fridays nights. She moderated her stories accordingly and of course she would tell none of her friends that their husbands used to sit in Buddy’s study watching videos of her and Buddy fucking.

“What has that got to with Susan Connaught bringing up the story of me supposedly stealing her pantyhose?” Richard sulked.

“Well I no longer had spicy stories to tell the girls about your father and me. By then you were in college and us girls were talking about our sons and daughters. Susan Connaught told us she had walked into her son’s bedroom one day and found him masturbating whilst sniffing a pair of her panties,” Emily’s face reddened.

“We all laughed. We’d been drinking and I blurted out that I knew that you had a thing for my nylons. That I’d found semen stains in them and as you were the only man in the house that it must have been yours,” Emily said steadfastly.

It was Richard’s turn to blush.

“All of our sons and daughters were grown up, and as mothers are want to do, we were curious about our children’s sex lives. Steven Longmire had knocked up his girlfriend and they had to get married. Elspeth was furious because Steven was only nineteen and she blamed Willy for not teaching him properly about the birds and the bees. Silvia Swanson suspected that her daughter was gay because she caught her kissing another girl,” Emily poured herself a second cup of coffee.

“So you old women sit around reminiscing about your sex lives and when that becomes boring you talk about your offspring’s sex lives,” Richard said in an accusatory tone.

“I will not be spoken to that way in my own home Richard,” Emily pushed back her chair, stood up and smoothed her skirt.

“And as you obviously do not intend to go to work again today you can find something useful to do around the house,” she sniffed.

“Robert Stevenson is looking after the Mirfield Ford dealerships while I try to get my life sorted out. He’s more than competent,” Richard retorted.

“He’s likely doing a better job,” Emily sniped back as she snatched up her handbag.

“By the way Richard, please return the pantyhose and panties you stole from the laundry yesterday. I thought you were done with that now that you have a wife,” Emily gave her son a gracious smile and left him sitting speechless with his mouth open.

Richard was so dumbfounded that he forgot to watch his mother’s rounded ass shimmy from side to side in her tight skirt or take in the grandeur of her long legs sheathed in shimmering tan nylons as she strode out of the kitchen on her four-inch Louboutin's.

“Fuck!” Richard shouted into the empty house.

Emily’s housekeeper Katerina didn’t work Mondays so Richard had the house to himself. The first thing he did was go up to his room, open his hidey-hole and take out the panties and pantyhose that he stolen from the washing basket and return them, thankful that he hadn't jizzed in them. At least he still had the crusty panties and nylon that he had stolen the last time he had visited his mother secreted away.

He had the whole day ahead of himself and the first thing Richard did was call Robert Stevenson, his senior sales assistant at the Ford dealerships in Mirfield, to see how things were going. Business was booming and the two dealerships were humming along just fine without him.

Richard considered what his mother had told him about finding something useful to do around the house. Deep in his heart he was still a mommy’s boy and he abided her wishes and changed into shorts, a tank top and sneakers. Emily employed a pool contractor and gardening service so nothing to do there. Katerina kept the place spotless so there wasn’t much to do in the house but he did push the card table up against the wall and put the chairs back to where they had come from and cleaned up the patio.

He was about to go upstairs to the attic and use the excuse that he was sorting through the junk pile and cleaning the attic space to just jagoff and read some of his old comic books and graphic novels. Maybe he would investigate those VHS tapes in the wooden box labelled Pussycat, but then the doorbell rang.

Melissa Mitchum was standing in the doorway with a radiant smile on her face. She was wearing brilliant-white spandex leggings, a red crop top and pristine white sneakers. Her little pot belly was tanned and Richard was surprised to see a little diamond belly-ring in her navel. She was wearing full makeup and the miasma of her perfume wafted through the door.

“Oh, hello Richard I was hoping to catch Emily before she went to work,” Melissa’s smile widened.

Richard couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over Mellissa’s bosom, down to the Vee of her crotch and along those fine pins.

“Never mind. Is Katerina in?” Melissa leaned over Richard’s shoulder and peered down the hallway.

She was so close that her breasts brushed against Richard’s chest.

Being one of Emily’s closest friends Melissa would know that Emily had left for work promptly at nine and that Katerina didn’t work Mondays but Richard just shook his head.

“Never mind, I won’t be long. I think I left my gold lighter here yesterday. Don bought it for me for my forty-fifth birthday and he would be very angry if he knew I’d lost it. I’d get such a spanking,” Melissa winked at Richard knowingly and barged past him into the house.

Richard’s eyes locked on Melissa’s ass as she strode purposefully down the hallway, her tight buttocks sheathed in the brilliant white spandex. There was no visible pantyline, known colloquially as VPL. When he was at college one of his favourite pastimes was trying to detect VPL on girls who wore yoga pants, tights or leggings or tight skirts and dresses.

“I’ll just check the patio,” Melissa called over her shoulder.

Richard followed her out onto the patio.

“I put everything away this morning and I didn’t see a lighter. Mom must have cleaned up after you girls left yesterday so maybe she found your lighter and put it away for safekeeping. Maybe give her a call?” Richard called Melissa’s bluff.

He doubted very much that Melissa had left her lighter behind and believed that she was here for some other reason. Her sporty attire seemed to be worn more for the aesthetic than for practicality. She wasn’t in bad shape for a woman her age but her boobs were obviously the result of surgical enhancement and he was pretty sure she’d had a BBL to get her ass in such fine physical condition. Like his mother and most of her friends she had a little pot belly that no amount of exercise or dieting seemed to shift.

Melissa made a show of rummaging around her handbag pretending to look for her cellphone.

“I don’t really want to disturb your mother at work over such a trivial matter. Maybe we can just look around for it?” Melissa gave Richard a salacious grin and walked over and dropped her handbag on the card table.

“What are you really here for Mrs Mitchum?” Richard stood directly in front of her barring her way into the house.

“How dare you! You can see that I’m heading to the gym. I just stopped by to pick up my lighter,” Melissa huffed indignantly.

“You always wear full makeup to the gym?” Richard teased.

“A woman must always look her best Richard,” Melissa preened her permed brunette hair.

“You know you look just like your daddy when he was younger. Before the beer and burritos turned him fat,” Melissa changed tack.

“You're not the first of mother’s friends to say so,” Richard allowed her to change the course of the conversation.

“Oh, all us girls were jealous of Emily when she landed the starting quarterback at Bellenau High. Buddy had quite a little harem before he married your mom,” Melissa gave him another salacious smile.

“And he didn’t mind picking things up where he had left off after he married your mom,” she winked at him again.

“You’re not the first of mother’s friends to tell me that. Not tell me that that my dad was an adulterer of course but that I very much resemble him,” Richard chose his words carefully, not letting on what Silvia Swanson had told him.

“Oh your daddy liked to play the field Richard, and I’m not just talking about on the gridiron,” Melissa’s eyes twinkled.

“Did you know that Silvia Swanson used to work at one of your daddy's car dealerships? Many a time she left your daddy’s office with her makeup smudged and runners in her nylons. Rumour has it that Buddy liked to bend her over his desk and take her quickly from behind,” Melissa took a step closer to Richard.

Memories of Silvia Swanson in the upstairs bathroom bent over the vanity countertop with her skirt hiked up and her skinny ass pushed out flooded Richard’s mind.

“I was a little more discreet. Buddy would visit me while Don was at work,” Melissa winked at him a third time.

“The first time he visited I was doing the housework and Buddy chased me around the dining room and when he caught me he lifted me up and dropped me on the dining table. He ripped open my pantyhose and gave me what the British refer to as a right seeing to,” she took another step closer so that her body was inches away from Richard.

“After that he never had to chase me and I always wore stockings so that he didn’t have to rip open my nylons,” she leaned in and whispered in Richard’s ear.

“You get my meaning?” Melissa took Richard’s hand in hers and pressed it against her pubic mound.

Richard immediately understood why Melissa was not displaying VPL. He could feel the outline of her labia through the slinky sheer leggings. She was not wearing underwear.

She took his other hand and placed on her breast. Her nipple was erect under the crop top. She was not wearing a brassiere either.

She ripped off his tank top and her hand went to his shorts and found Richard fully tumescent. She reached inside and squeezed his cock.

Richard kissed Melissa. It was like a dream come true. In two days his fantasy about fucking older, sophisticated women was coming true and to make it all the more better they were his mother’s best friends.

He slipped his tongue into Melissa’s mouth and she reciprocated, slipping her tongue into his while she slowly stroked his cock. Richard pressed his middle finger into the cleft of Melissa’s vulva and rubbed her cunt through her leggings. He tweaked her nipple and she gasped into his mouth.

Without warning she dropped to her knees and yanked down Richard’s shorts and took his manhood in her mouth and began to suckle it, licking the underside of his glans while she stroked the shaft. Richard looked down into Melissa’s heavily made-up eyes. They were deep blue, enhanced by black mascara and eyeliner. She smiled up at him, her slutty red-lipsticked lips still clamped on his cock.

Richard tangled his fingers in her brunette curls and began to fuck her face, delighting in the feel of her tongue tickling his fraenulum while her lips slipped up and down his shaft. He felt his testes begin to roil as his orgasm approached and Melissa felt his cock throb as extremis approached.

“Oh no mister. Not yet,” Melissa spat out his cock and leapt to her feet.

She kissed him deeply but didn’t touch his cock. She didn’t want him cumming yet. Richard pressed his hard cock against Melissa’s lycra-clad thigh and rubbed it. The slippery spandex felt like butterfly wings fluttering against his phallus. His hands went to her ass and squeezed.

Just like her tits, her ass had had some work done. Her breasts were full and pouty, the silicone gel inserts hardly noticeable. Her buttocks were round and perky and as he molested them he felt their resilience. Richard could give a fuck about how much work Melissa Mitchum had had done. She was attractive and mature and sexy. Everything he wanted in a woman.

“Come on big boy, do it like your daddy used to,” Melissa growled and bit his earlobe.

She put her hands on his shoulders and jumped up and locked her legs around his waist and Richard instinctively put his hands under buttocks to support her weight. They continued to kiss as he carried her over to the card table with his shorts still around knees and put her ass down on the velvet playing surface. Richard yanked up Melissa’s crop top and exposed her magnificent if artificially enhanced breasts. Her lowered his face to them and suckled her pink nipples and lapped at her rosy areola and Melissa squealed and guided his mouth from breast to breast to ensure they got equal attention. She took his throbbing cock in her hand and stroked it gently, not wanting it to go off until she was ready.

Richard struggled with the waistband of Melissa’s leggings, trying unsuccessfully to yank them down.

“Stop! Stop! Stop, you silly boy,” Melissa grinned at him salaciously.

“Check this out,” she slid a red-painted fingernail inside the crotch seam of her leggings.

The seam opened to expose her shaved pussy, the pink lips peeking out of the white spandex like the petals of an exotic flower.

“They have this invisible splice so I can get to my pussy, or more importantly, so my yoga instructor can get to my pussy without taking them off,” Melissa giggled.

Richard could give a flying fuck about Melissa Mitchum’s yoga teacher. She was perched on the edge of his mother’s card table with her legs wide open, her pussy and tits out.

He lowered his face and traced the inseam of her leggings up her thigh to the open splice and then he licked her labia and Melissa groaned and locked her legs around his head and pushed his face into her cunt. Richard licked the meaty lobes of her outer labia, deliberately avoiding the sensitive inner lips and her clitoris.

“Lick it you fucker!” Melissa wailed and drummed her heels on his back.

She was wearing rubber-soled sports shoes but they did the job and Richard relented and licked Melissa’s sweet little inner lips and the hood of her clitoris. She groaned and rose her ass up off the table and thrust her crotch into Richard’s face and he smiled to himself and used his lips to retract her clitoral hood and ran the tip his tongue along the sensitive nubbin.

Melissa screamed and pushed her cunt harder into his face and Richard gripped her thighs and licked her clitoris, he freed one hand and shoved two fingers inside her vagina, fingering the spongy flesh, finding her g-spot in the upper wall. He massaged it with the tips of his fingers while his tongue flicked across her clitoris and his lips sucked on her labia.

She tasted fresh and a little salty and soon her vagina was gushing with her sweet juices as Melissa’s pleasure rose to an orgasmic crescendo as she rode Richard’s face.

“Oh you little fucker! Yeah, right there!” she screamed as she climaxed.

“Now fuck me like your daddy did,” Melissa ripped Richard’s face from her sodden maw.

She grabbed his cock and guided it to the split-seam of her leggings and her cunt seemed to envelop him as his hard prong slid into her warm wet slit.

She kissed him passionately, wrapping her legs around him, her shimmery leggings gliding across his muscled flanks. The feel of the satiny fabric was wonderful as was the sensation of her tight cleft clinging to his phallus as he slid it in and out of her.

He fucked the mature slut with long slow stokes, enjoying every second of it. The feel of her tight cunt milking his manhood as he drove it all the way inside her was overwhelming. She clung to him, her arms around his broad shoulders, rising up to meet his trusts as she felt Richard’s big cock fill her vagina and ravish it, his pubis pressing on her clitoris when he drove it all the way home. Her sweet mouth was like a limpet, stuck to his and her tongue fluttered and curled inside his. Richard cupped her buttocks and began to fuck her furiously as his orgasm approached.