Winning the Olympian Ch. 02

She turned to the oven and pulled out a delicious smelling chicken pie that used a lot of the leftovers from last night.

"Chicken pie's a Falls Creek specialty. We have a secret recipe up in these hills. But I'll tell you. It's adding extra sage."

She served us dinner and we ate in companionable silence; it felt so easy to be with Sally.

"Would you like coffee? Decaf?" Sally asked.

"Yes, please that would be great."

"I'll get out some of those chocolate chip cookies too," Sally said.

With the coffee brewing and cookies on the table, Sally said something that I would never have guessed any of my friends' mothers would ever say.

"Jason, Tate and I are very close. It's probably due to her having such a harsh father that I naturally drew close to her. So we share on every level. When she called me to ask if you could come visit after camp was over, she said something very odd.

"Mom, I'm not trying to pry, she said, but I can tell things are hard for you and dad. I know dad has not loved you like he should the past five years or so. And I remember when you told me about the Birds and the Bees when I was eight you talked about how wonderful your sex life was with dad—discretely, but you made the point that it was something you really enjoyed in your marriage.

"I think dad has lost his way knowing how to love you. And from what I've seen, he's consumed by porn; and that's not you at all.

"So, mom, I think you ought to look to affirm your sexuality outside your marriage. I've been thinking about this a long time. And I want you to know that I'd support any relationship with a good person—man or woman—that you pursue."

Sally paused while she poured the coffee.

"Cream and sugar?" She asked

"Just cream, thanks!" I said.

Coffee mug in hand, Sally continued.

"Jason I know this might seem really creepy to you. But after Tate told that to me, I started dreaming about...someone...

"This is really hard to say. Jason, I started dreaming about you at night. You have always been so sweet to me and especially to Tate, and that was part of my dreams...

"Um, but...I dreamed you and I started having a sexual relationship. There! I've said it!"

She got very quiet and looked at me intently as if trying to divine my reaction.

I have to admit I was blown away—blindsided is probably a better word. But I was also more than a little aroused. Tate told me last night that she thought her mother was even sexier naked that she was. Now, looking at Sally in a new light, I can tell what Tate meant.

Sally had wavy black hair and dark brown eyes. Her cheekbones were high, her jaw firm, her skin smooth and youthful. She probably was in her late 30s or early 40s given that they get married so young up here. But she could pass for 29. Her waist was trim, her breasts large and firm. Her hips were wide in bone, with a nicely rounded butt.

Was it on purpose that she wore a skimpy blouse tonight for dinner? Her nipples seemed to have enlarged since dinner began; and I don't think she was wearing a bra. The boldness—and courage—it took for her to tell me all of this was stunning.

And at this point I had to admit something about Sally had always attracted me; certainly now, new things once off limits started attracting me even more. I was starting to get very hard. Would it be okay to sleep with my girlfriend's mom? She said Tate would approve. And something in me believes that Tate might really approve even though I would not want her to find out.

Sally's eyes took on a knowing look. She glanced at my crotch and noticed a bulge emerging.

"Jason, you have to realize that I'm not really asking you to do anything. I'm just being honest with my feelings. I respect you and will let you take the lead if this is something you want to do. Or not do. And if not, we'll never need to talk about it again."

I don't know what came over me. Perhaps it was my own boldness developed from a summer of sex with Tate. Sex was not scary or awkward anymore and I felt experienced. Tate was a great teacher. And I really LOVED having sex.

I stood up and walked behind Sally's chair at the dinner table. I started rubbing her neck and shoulders. It was obvious what my answer was to her proposition.

Sally leaned forward a little and I had a direct view down her blouse. Her breasts were as large as I imagined, with enlarging nipples, bigger than Tate's and even more like luscious berries. But they were purple and her areolas were larger and browner than Tate's.

That glance down her shirt was so unexpected yet so erotic that I immediately became hard. The high back of the chair had horizontal slats. The space between the two highest slats framed my bulging cock perfectly in the center. Although Sally was leaning forward, that area of her back was close enough that my bulge pressed into her back.

Sally must have noticed because she straightened up, pushing her back hard against my hardening cock. She reached behind the chair with both arms, grabbing my buttocks firm from daily swimming at camp. Her arms were fit without any sag or laxity. Her arm muscles were firm too and well-shaped.

Yes, she could easily pass for 29.

Then Sally stood up and turned around. Pushing me back a bit, she came between me and the dining chair. She slowly began unbuttoning her shirt. Once at the bottom, she pulled out the tucked in shirt tails to unfasten the last button. In so doing, her shirt now was nearly fully open; I could see a good two thirds of each breast.

And they were glorious. As if out of an erotic movie, her breasts were shapely and well formed. They were symmetrical tear drop shape, the only difference between them being the directions her nipples pointed. They were poised perfectly on her chest, especially given her age—not too perky and high like an 18 year old's, but not hanging lower like a women in her forties. To my surprise, her chest was evenly suntanned, including her breasts, meaning that she either lay out in the sun topless—not unrealistic with the sparse population around here—or visited a tanning salon. Either way, they were golden brown, like perfectly roasted marshmallows.

With forwardness I learned from Tate, I reached up and held each golden globe in my hands. I began massaging them. Although not as firm as Tate's, they were still surprisingly firm. Her skin was as soft as Tate's, and her breasts jiggled like Tate's when I lifted them and let go.

All to say her tits were as erotic as my girlfriend's.

Sally shut her eyes, arched her back slightly and moaned as I rubbed her breasts. Without changing position, she slowly removed her shirt. When fully topless, she let her head loll backward and began swaying left to right, enough to give sway to her breasts. I found this incredibly sexy and seductive. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and gave me the exact same "come hither" look that Tate would give me when really turned on.

Since the guest bedroom close to the kitchen, Sally put her hands on top of mine holding them close to her breasts and walked slowly backwards to the guest bedroom. Once inside, she pressed my hands into her breasts as if instructing me to continue massaging them—which I did.

Then she slowly removed her wrap-around skirt giving me yet another shock this night: She was not wearing panties. Her hips and mons looked exactly like Tate's but with darker pubic hair. And like Tate often did, Sally widened her stance, spread her legs and pushed forward her pelvis revealing her camel toe, outer labia, and inner lips which appeared thick and succulent.

"Oh, Jason, that feels so good..." she moaned.

From experience with Tate, I knew what to do next.

I removed my right hand from her left breast and placed it between her legs. I began slowly stroking her wet inner labia, gradually prying them open in the process. Soon, my index and middle fingers had penetrated her open lips—and began the search to penetrate her vagina.

It was amazing how similar Sally felt to both my hands compared to Tate and I wondered if it was genetics or womanhood. I did not have enough experience to know. But I found Sally's vagina exactly where I would have expected it if it were Tate's—fairly far back from her clitoris. I slowly inserted my two fingers into her hot wet pussy, not as tight as Tate's but equally as velvety.

Inserting my fingers all the way in, I was able to use my thumb to gently massage her clit and clit hood. With this action, Sally became very stimulated and began gyrating her pelvis in circular movements.

Next she started unbuttoning and unzipping my shorts, pulling them down to my thighs; then pulling my boxers down just as far. Moving my legs up and down, back and forth I was able to wiggle out of both, kicking them to the side once they were around my ankles.

Sally had already begun holding my pulsating platinum cylinder and I felt like I was larger than I had ever gotten with Tate.

"Oh, Jason," Sally said as she grasped my erection. "I got so turned on seeing your cock last night when you were drunk and drowsy. It was long and hard and it swung up and down and side to side when you moved. I wanted to fuck you right then but of course couldn't. You're so much bigger than my husband; I could feel your pulse in your cock. It was so stiff, I had a hard time stuffing it into your boxers when I put you to bed."

The thought of this gorgeous older woman finding my cock erotic was so stimulating. Moreover, her hands were so experienced in holding a cock that I almost blasted off at that moment. But whether by instinct or experience, Sally knew to squeeze my cock head really hard to slow down my orgasm train.

"Let's lie down in bed, Jason," Sally said leading the way, pulling me by my cock with her right hand.

I was embarrassed that as a guest I had not made up the bed this morning, but that turned out to be convenient because we could get in without having to let go of each other to pull down the covers.

"Lie on your back Jason. I want to fuck you on top. I love what you're doing to me. Oh my god, Jason that feels so good."

With my right hand still in her cunt, I used my left hand to position a pillow under my head. Then Sally pulled my hand out of her vagina, straddled me, and used her hand to guide my very hard cock toward her warm, wet pussy.

She purposely impaled her cunt slowly, dropping by millimeters onto my cock. The feeling was exquisitely sublime. Slowly, ever so slowly—the intensity of pleasure was so acute I had to focus intently on not cumming.

Once Sally had totally engulfed me I noticed anew that she was not as tight as Tate, but equally soft and hot and wet. I pushed upward with my pelvis to firmly implant myself inside her.

Then, I placed my left hand on her right breast and my right fingers between my pelvic bone and her clitoris. I pressed there very gently while at the same time rubbed her nipple between my thumb and index finger.

Sally cooed serenely and repeated, just like Tate would, "That feels so good, Jason that feels so good."

I too was enjoying this foreplay. I was able to get a full view of Sally with her pretty face enrapt in pleasure. Her ample breasts moved luxuriously with each sway of her body. Her dark thick bush grew over her outer labia. And her pubic hair disappeared from view where her body and mine connected.

I alternately focused on looking at her gorgeous body, giving her pleasure with my hands, and feeling my own pleasure. I did not want it to end. Was it because Sally was more experienced then her daughter that this foreplay without body motion felt nearly as good as truly fucking? Or was it the novelty—indeed the sheer audacity—of having sex with my girlfriend's mother?

Neither of us felt the need to start "up and down" fucking. We remained just as we were for long moments, both of us quietly moaning with pleasure, alternately closing our eyes and looking each other in the eye. And looking each other over.

And I thought: Sally's in no hurry because she no longer gets this serene pre-orgasmic pleasure from her husband—or anyone. She wants it to last forever.

After a bit longer, Sally looked directly at me, smiling and said, "She'll be home soon. Let's fuck really hard."

And, so we did. Because she could more easily gauge what felt good for her, I let Sally take the lead. She began rocking forward and back gently to establish a rhythm and more fully grease the skids. Slowly she picked up the pace. I watched mesmerized by her beautiful face and her swaying older breasts so like and unlike Tate's.

Once she got close to full speed, I started bucking upward toward her, leaving my fingers between her and me; and my hand on her breast. I wanted her to enjoy this; I did not feel the need to have an orgasm myself.

And she obviously got lots of pleasure out of fucking me. She moaned and screamed, and slammed herself up and down hard on me. It was obvious when she was about to orgasm, although she didn't yell it out like Tate always did. Instead, sweat seemed to instantly bead up on her lip and chest, she squeezed her face tightly with eyes shut and teeth clenched, pressed inwardly with her knees towards my chest, bucked on me three more times, tensed her whole body then vocalized a low "Mmmmmmmmmm." Then she was silent, holding her breath, but her body was jerking in spasms as if she was having a seizure. Her chest flooded red. And she inhaled a deep breath.

This thoroughly erotic scene plus the spasmodic movement put me over the edge and I ripped out one of my most intense orgasms ever. I screamed, "AHHHHH! AHHHH! AHHH!" and shot five or six slugs of cum into her pussy. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. And it lasted, and lasted, and lasted...a looonnngg time! And occurred multiple times. One orgasm. Two orgasms. Then a tiny third dry caboose orgasm.

And. I. Was. Spent.

So was she.

"Thank you Jason. Oh, thank you Jason. Jason, thank you so much. Thank you." She said this over and over, collapsing on my chest.

And I was really glad I had helped her.

Without further conversation, we spooned together lying on our right sides. I held her close and rubbed her breasts with my left hand.

Suddenly, Sally sat up. "We need to wipe off and get dressed. Right now."

Five minutes later, once we were straightened and dressed, Tate walked in.

With a really cute haircut.