Your Mom Is Next! Ch. 04

The Haroun family had moved into town when I was a ten-year-old boy. They were Coptic Arabs from Syria and the wife, a tiny yet voluptuous dark-mahogany-haired creature, had to be the most beautiful woman I'd ever come across. For a ten-year old to acknowledge this spoke volumes for her beauty! Oh, she was a looker all right. As we had very few ethnic people in our community, Lena's obvious exotic beauty and muddy skin tones, not to mention her heavy accent added to her popularity.

Lena Soraya Haroun was about five-foot-three with an extremely slender 95lb, 32-22-32 figure much enhanced by a flat tummy, firm and rounded buttocks and a set of forward-piercing titties that always looked like they were about to launch into orbit. She definitely wasn't overly endowed, but those high chested and ultra perky tits would heave forward like torpedoes no matter what she wore, leaving you with no doubt that she had the firmest and ripest set of hoots you just wanted to suckle on.. For a forty-two year old, Lena had a firm and supple body that of a teenager. It was only when you gazed at her closely that you noticed the telltale signs of her true age.

She had a very beautiful, exotic face with dark feline eyes, small hook nose, a thick-lipped and very kissable mouth and a head full of dark hair with a tint of mahogany that fell about her slim shoulders in a mass of waves and curls. If that wasn't enough to make a man drool, she had to prance about with the most figure enhancing and ultra revealing clothes imaginable, and that always with spiked heels so that she seemed taller and even slimmer.

Talk about flamboyant and flashy----she dressed like a fuckin' tart every time! I'm talking ultra tight mini skirts with stretch tops that clung to her like a second skin and amplified the thrust of her tits; or tight leather pants with the finest silk blouses unbuttoned so low that you got to see more than a man ought to. Man, seeing that amazing cleavage with those pointy rockets cradled in a lacy bra was enough to give you an immediate hard-on! And the makeup was always caked on, too, lots of it, with dark mascara emphasizing her feline eyes. Her ears, throat and hands were always adorned with glittering jewelry. Man, she looked like Paula Abdul's fuckin' aunt!

Arif Mamood Haroun, the husband, was a civil engineer. He was certainly one of the wealthiest men in our community and she had nothing better to do than to blow his hard-earned cash on clothes, cosmetics and jewelry. The Haroun's had a huge spread on the outskirts of town complete with an Olympic-sized in-ground swimming pool and adjoining tennis court. They had two sons, one about the same age as I, the other a seventeen year old. As soon as they had moved in I had latched myself to their eldest kid. I didn't like him too much, but pretending to be his friend had its perks. I was able to play with his terrific toys, swim in his pool and best of all----be around his hot mom all the time. When I was ten I merely thought she was pretty---when I reached thirteen and interested in discovering sex, I wanted it desperately to be with her! The sight of those perky mounds inside the cups of her bikini top while we lounged about the pool, or staring into her cleavage when she bent forward to pour you a glass of milk gave me constant boners. Can you imagine what this does to a hormone-overloaded teen? Oh yeah! As soon as I had discovered the joys of masturbation, Lena Haroun became a nightly favorite. I would jerk my cock to a pulp and shoot off loads voluminous to drown a rat in! Oh, how I wanted to get my hands on her!

I dreamt of her for twelve years. Naturally other women started to interest me, but my thoughts always returned to Lena. What a woman---what a body! The day I had created my original list I had been undecided whether or not I should have a crack at her first. But in the end I opted for the more voluptuous body proportions of our college administrator, Hyacinthe, whose huge pendulous jugs had held me spellbound for years. Naturally Lena was ten times sexier, but Hyacinthe's hefty tits and her overall frumpish and virginal demeanor won me over. (Read part 2)

And more importantly, Lena was rarely alone. Her two sons were always hanging about. I certainly had to wait a considerable time before I was able to make a move on her. I was getting terribly horny and three weeks went by while I waited for an opportune time and I was getting impatient. Man, was I horny. In the end I decided to pay a visit to our school teacher, that small and plumpish sex kitten with the huge boobs. (Read part 3) But then a load of luck came my way. Lena was available!

Her husband had broken his hip during a fall from a ladder and was in the hospital. He'd be there for another month or so. And their two kids, Selim and Karim, were leaving for Damascus to visit their relatives for the summer. Oh, she was finally mine! I had to endure twelve years of agony----oh, she was definitely going to get the works! All fucking night and then some!

The flight to Syria was scheduled for Friday afternoon. Lena didn't have a license and so I graciously offered to drive them to the airport. Man, you should have seen the looks she got as we walked through the departure zone. She was all tarted up in a black semi see-through fishnet stretch tank top that allowed everyone to see the cups of her dark bra and those firm teats sticking out like light bulbs. Not only that, but she had put on a tight white and black zebra-stripe miniskirt that hugged her slim hips like saran wrap and a pair of ultra high white stiletto heels with black bows. Her dark, reddish tinted ponytail flounced to and fro across her shoulders in time with the chiming of her several bracelets and loop earrings. Rings sparkled on every finger and a pair of designer sunglasses sat perched high up on her forehead. Man, we looked like three young guys who had picked up a hooker somewhere! Which was the only weird thing about her: she looked and dressed like a tart---but that was about it. If any man ventured to make a pass at her she would screech something awful, let me tell you. Most of it in unintelligible Arabic! Oh, she enjoyed flaunting it but most definitely didn't sell it! She was a real piece of work, a one hundred percent tease!

We chatted a bit on the drive home. It was always awkward trying to communicate with her as she had little interest in learning the English language properly. She spoke with gestures instead and a lot of body language, and if she did speak to you, it was rather difficult to decipher her heavily accented gibberish. And vice versa. If you said something, she'd make a face, lean in close and ask you to repeat it. It required a lot of patience.

I pulled in to their large driveway, got out and opened the door for her. She unfolded her long legs, placed her high heels on the ground one at a time and slowly eased herself out. The sight of that padded push-up bra thrusting through the stretch top like large turnips gave me an immediate erection. Man, those perky tits hardly shook as she straightened! She smiled, brushed the tight skirt smooth with the palm of her hands (although it was quite unnecessary since it was glued on) and brushed past me, hips swinging. Damn!

It was six-thirty in the afternoon and the sun was still scorching hot. She stopped at the foot of the car and blinked her eyelashes. "Is hot, no? You vant coke?"

I nodded. "Yes, thank you." I followed her through the house and into the kitchen, marveling the exciting swing of her hips. I don't know how women can actually walk in those ridiculous high heels, but Lena was one of those who had mastered it. Not once did she slip or teeter. Those four-inch stiletto heels made those slim legs even slimmer looking and greatly increased her overall height. Even in heels, though, I still towered above her by at least a foot and out-weighed her by a good seventy pounds. I was a big boy. She was soon going to find out just how big!

She opened the fridge and handed me a can of coke. Our fingers brushed. She smiled and said: "I happy you Selim friend. You good boy. I am thanking you for help you giving."

I smiled thinly and eyed her cone-shaped knockers. "No problem. The pleasure is all mine. But I'm far from being a boy. I'm twenty-three. I'm a man now. And I don't think that a mere 'thank-you' and a coke is good enough to repay my kindness. You can do better. Much better."

Any other woman would have picked up on my suggestion immediately and would have slapped me across the face. But Lena, true to form, didn't get it. "Oh?" She cocked her head and brushed the long tail over her shoulders with a flick of the wrist. The rings on her fingers sparkled. "What you saying? Repeat please." It was a normal reaction on her part---half of the stuff you usually said to her resulted in a perplexed frown.

I smiled at her. "Sorry," I said. "I will speak slowly. Listen carefully." She nodded and stared at me with anticipation. I stared at her for several seconds. I let the Evil Eye kick in until her dark, cat-like eyes took on that frosty, stoned-looking glare. She was hypnotized! She just stood there clutching her coke and staring right through me as if I wasn't there. That look always gave me the creeps.

She was an Arab, I thought. Why not have her dress like one? "You are a slave girl," I said slowly and carefully so that she'd understand. "Your purpose in life is to pleasure men. You are mine now and you will please me tonight. Do you understand?"

She blinked her heavily mascara-coated eyelashes for a second or so. Then she suddenly dropped the can of coke, slithered to the floor and knelt before me with her head hung low and her hands clasped behind her in a classic pose of slave submission. Then she babbled something, bent her head forward and kissed the tip of my shoes. Whoa! That floored me.

I glanced at my watch. "I will return at nine o'clock tonight," I said. She was still kneeling with her head at my feet. "You have about three hours. Wash and perfume yourself. And dress yourself accordingly----remember that you are a pleasure slave. Do you know what to do?"

She nodded and the ponytail bounced. I took her keys from the kitchen counter and pocketed them. "Do not open the door. Do not let anyone in. Wait for me in your bedroom. No light----just lots of candles. I will join you later." I turned and left her there kneeling on the kitchen floor.

I had supper with my parents. I told them that there was a big bash down in Hawkins Junction and that I'd be gone the whole weekend, spending Sunday there to sweat off the booze. Feeding them this kin of gibberish, especially about not driving while hammered, prevented a whole slew of questions. As long as they thought I was being responsible it didn't seem to matter what I did. Having thus established an alibi, I was now able to spend the whole weekend screwing that Arabic tart silly.

Two hours later I parked the truck behind the Haroun's large two-door garage, a secure place hidden by huge drooping willows, and made my way past the tennis court and pool towards the house. My precautions were quite unnecessary as the nearest neighbor was miles away. The house was dark except for a glimmer of light from one of the upstairs windows. That had to be Lena's bedroom. I stepped up to the front door and withdrew the keys from my pocket. The porch was unlit and I fumbled with the strange door as I tried to fit the wrong key in the lock. After the fourth try the door slid open.

I climbed up the long staircase. There was some light seeping under a door at the end of the long hall. I opened the door quietly, stepped inside and closed it behind me. The room was fairly dim as it was lit only be a few candles. Shadows bounced off the walls. A huge brass bed complete with black and gold-tasseled canopy supported on four ornamented brass poles stood in the center of the room. Purple-colored see-through gauze material hung from both sides down to the floor, tied to the posts like curtains. The bed itself was covered with purple satin sheets and gold-trimmed throw pillows. On the other side, guarded by a gigantic potted plant, stood a purple-colored Futon and several ottomans with gold trim. A pile carpet thick enough to loose a shoe in lay before the Futon. It was black and trimmed with gold. In fact the whole room consisted of three colors: purple, black and gold.

She was nowhere to be seen. I clapped my hands. "Slave! Come join your master!"

With a click of heels and the swish of silk Lena Soraya Haroun came traipsing out of the adjoining powder room. She stepped up to the bed, clasped her arms behind her and lowered her head. Oh, I nearly flipped at the sight before me.

She was wearing a waxy-looking, purple-colored and slightly padded demi-shelf bra with the upper cups trimmed with black lace. The damn bra was jacked up so high, almost under the elbows, that her tits heaved out and forward like torpedoes. The cleavage thus presented was awesome. A matching high-cut bikini brief was stretched taut across her slim hips. A thin and diaphanous peel-apart skirt hung from her hips down to the tips of her silver open-toe high heels. She certainly was handy with a sewing machine, for she must have cut up one of her negligees or peignoirs in order to create this filmy apparel. To back-up my assumptions, a veil of the exact color and material hung from her ears. It was much lighter in color than the bra and bikini, a sort of mauve or light violet. Needless to say, the sight of her slim legs shimmering through the transparent material was quite exciting.

And as always, every part of her slim body was decorated with jewelry in every shape and form. This time though, she'd put on her entire collection! It was all pure gold and it shimmered and sparkled in the dim light. Multiple slivers hung from her ears; a spider web necklace hung from her throat and a loop chain with dangling beads was slung around her hips. Her slim wrists and fingers glittered with bracelets and rings of various shape and design. She'd even opted to put on thin ankle bracelets on both feet. A beautiful and very Arabic, multiple-beaded golden tiara-like headpiece hung from her forehead. And she'd put on loads of makeup, especially that proverbial charcoal-colored mascara to highlight the eyes. She looked like fuckin' Cleopatra!

She stood there by the foot of the bed, staring emptily at floor. She seemed somewhat dazed. I stepped up to her and slowly walked around her, marveling her entire body. I was six-foot-two and although her stiletto heels increased her height by several inches, her small body still barely reached the height of my shoulders. I stepped up behind her and gently slipped my arms around her. She emitted a slight moan as she felt my hands on her body. I caressed her flat buttocks and her firm hips through the thin film of the skirt, then slid my hands forward to gently rub her stomach so that the loop chain with the multiple beads tinkled like breaking glass.

I clutched her against me tight and wrapped my arms around her. "You like a man's touch, eh," I murmured as I nuzzled my face in the nape of her neck. All she did was moan softly. The long, dark waves of thick hair was smooth and silky soft and smelled of jasmine. When I brushed through the mane to nuzzle her check the perfume she had doused herself with made me dizzy. With the exception of an occasional quick, embarrassed hug experienced during birthdays and Christmas time, it was the first time that I lingered in her arms for more than a fleeting second. I could have held her like that for hours! Man, my cock twitched. This exotic tart was driving me insane with desire.

I slid my hands up her body then and cupped the tits I'd been dreaming of for so many years. The female body, not to mention the entire sexual act, was no longer alien to me, but for some odd reason my whole body felt as if it was on fire. Every nerve in my body tingled. My twelve-inch rod immediately jerked forward, stretching out to its maximum length and stiffness as soon as I slid my hands across her tits. It just grew solid within a mere second and whacked her in the back like a sledgehammer. She stiffened and cocked her head to the side to stare at me with a dazed expression. Having it bent up like that and crushed against her was annoying, and so I bent at the hips and slid it slid between her legs, pushing the thin skirt right between her thighs to emerge in front of her. A sane woman would have cried out at the sight of my huge cock slithering between her thighs like a one-eyed snake, shocked at its tremendous size, but Lena didn't utter a sound.

Having to bend down behind her small body was awkward too, and so I lifted her up and plopped her knees up onto the edge of the bed, using my stiff cock like a lever to push her off the floor. I cupped her tits again, peered over her shoulder and gazed into her cleavage. Man, did those perky mounds push outward like slim missiles. I was utterly fascinated. Overcome by curiosity, I teased the small bra label out from her tight back band, bent my head down and peered at it. 32DD the label said. By jacking her bras up high, those slim, conical torpedoes were lifted up and thrust outwards, giving them that amazing forward piercing appearance and that deep cleavage I had come to admire over the years. It certainly made her tits seem twice as large!

"Your breasts fascinate me, slave," I murmured into her ear. My breath made the thin veil flutter like a curtain in the breeze. The slivers of gold dangling from her ear chimed softly. I crushed her tits and she squeaked softly, emitting a sort of protesting cat-like meow when I slipped my fingers forward to pinch her nipples. "O---ooh!"

I grabbed her slender wrist then and pulled her gently off the bed. She slithered a bit on her high heels and I had to steady her as she stumbled against my stiff cock. Her long hair bounced about her slim shoulders and the numerous items of jewelry chimed and tinkled. She giggled. I took her hand and paraded her slowly towards the Futon. I turned her around and gently sat her down on it. Wordlessly she curled her shapely legs underneath her and leaned back against the firm cushions, presenting me with a terrific view of her splendid bust. The lace-lined purple bra was so damn tight that her plump tits hardly moved as she draped an arm lazily across the top of the padded cushion. Talk about a half-naked Cleopatra lying provocatively on her side, coquettishly inviting Caesar to join her. It was like watching a damn movie!

I fell down beside her and drew her against me with my left arm so that her head lay against my left shoulder. With the right hand I gently peeled the thin veil off her ears one at a time and draped it across the back of the cushion. With groan I crushed my mouth on hers. She whimpered and pushed herself against me. Man, did we hungrily devour each other, let me tell you. We did more than exchange mere, passionate kisses: we tongued each other like crazy, slapping our tongues in and out and against each other. In a sick sort of way we were almost cleansing each other's teeth! I closed my teeth around her lower lip and pulled it teasingly back and forth while she moaned and pawed my back with her long nails. I have never kissed a woman like that before----it was wild! She probably had expected that I'd simply throw her down and have my way with her. The loving and caring attentions I bestowed on her took her by surprise. She sighed deeply and contentedly.

After several minutes of this frenzied oral action I started to lick and peck at her chin and throat; then worked my gentle kisses down the front of her body. She leaned her head back and moaned softly when I cupped her tits and buried my face in her abundant cleavage. The spider net necklace that dangled low between her tits was sort of in the way, but the titillating scent of the perfume she had sprayed in her cleavage was driving me bonkers so that I simply could not refrain from nuzzling my face in there. I spent a few minutes kissing and licking the warm, soft flesh all over and toying with the shiny necklace. She especially liked the way I slid my tongue along the laced trim of her bra cups and would emit an aroused squeak whenever my tongue slipped under the lacy cups to poke and tease at the circumference of her nipples.