Sharing the MILF List Ch. 04

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Mother and son coming in concert.
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Part 4 of the 17 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 10/13/2012
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Chapter 4

Mother and Son Coming in Concert

For several days after we did Mom, Kyla sexted me. It was like she just discovered her phone. From the time I told her I wanted her ass again, she began sending me lurid little missives. They were random thoughts, like a stream of consciousness from a fevered brain, the brain of a very horny woman. They were all short, to the point if somewhat less circumspect than the texts I usually go; teasing, coquettish or obliquely licentious: My ankles can touch my ears. I always wanted to be bent over the back of a couch. Have you ever done it with an audience? I love deliveries at the backdoor.

So they arrived, not constantly, not like a stalker but frequently enough to keep her and her luxurious ass on my mind. Tuesday, she asked if we could have a late supper Wednesday night, alone, privately which implied 'secretly. I agreed and that was how I came be talking to Chris on the phone while looking at Kyla Clark across a table in the dimmest corner of Passionate Darlene's.

"Whoa, slow down, Chris." I said softly, watching Kyla watch me.

"I did it!" Chris said after taking a huge breath. He waited then, perhaps for a response but I knew what he was talking about. I said nothing so he went on. "I waited for her in her bedroom and when she came in, I grabbed her. She struggled like a wildcat. I got hold of her wrists and forced her onto the bed. I tied her up, with mom's scarves, not like you did but enough to keep her from scratching my eyes out. Then I put a half-hood over her head and tied it so she could breathe but not see. Then I fucked her. Gawd, she came and came and came. I took her ass and she screamed till I came in her. I released her and left her lying face down on her bed." Chris stopped but I knew there was something more on his mind.

Kyla was watching me. Her brown hair caught the flickering candlelight and turned bronze, burnished by the fire. Her eyes were dark, almost predatory. She sipped from her cosmo.

"Sonny, I liked it. Fuck, I loved it! I never came so hard in my life. I came in her twice in like twenty minutes. I swear she orgasmed the whole time. The moment I entered her after tying her up, she shuddered, grunting and muttering in Chinese. I made her suck my cock after it was in her and she sucked me hard and I took her again with the same response. I lasted longer. I think she came over and over again while I fucked her. It scared me a little. But I loved it, Sonny!" Chris' voice sounded like he was pleading for something.

Kyla licked her lips, then ran her tongue along the rim of her martini glass, while she watched me through her long lashes. She had gone to considerable trouble to appear alluring and she succeeded. Just before my phone rang, she told me she had done what I suggested. Namely, she asked Landon where I had been and he told her I had been 'courting an older woman,' he had said. Then he added, "That takes time, and it turns out, energy, trust me, I know." She said he smiled then, like he was in the midst of a dream and then the subject passed but not for Kyla. She was shivering with nerves when I sat down across from her in the booth at the restaurant. She was twitchy, maybe like a tweaker would be, though I have no knowledge of such people, fortunately—it must be horrible to go through such an experience. She told me about Landon's comment and waited for my response. Her naturally green eyes were greener. In the silence, my phone seemed loud when it hollared but I was relieved to answer it. I gazed at her as Chris came uncorked. Naturally he wanted to tell someone about his latest conquest, about giving a woman her private fantasy and succeeding but he sounded . . . odd. I waited, listening, trying to discern what was going on with him.

"I liked it, I liked raping her, Sonny!" Chris spoke finally.

Then I understood, "Chris, that is not rape, it is sex play. Keep the two separate. Rape is about force and power; not sex. Many rapists cannot even get it up and that is why they hurt their victims. They externalize the rage against their own impotence, blaming the woman. Others get off on the fear, the terror of the victim. That is so far from who you are, I cannot believe you are even thinking about it that way." I watched Kyla's eyes. "She asked for it and by that I mean she told me that was what she wanted you, us to do. She struggled because the feeling of being subdued arouses her; the feeling of helplessness, of being taken violently without consent or interaction made her scream with orgasm." Kyla was listening intently now, trying to catch my words but I could not tell if she could hear or understand what I was saying; I spoke very quietly. "She came because you fulfilled her fantasy and few women get to experience that. Chris, go back. If you think you can get it up again, sneak into her house and do it again, right now. Take her again."

"What about Mom? She'll know I went out."

I smiled. Kyla thought I was responding to her tongue on the martini glass and her eyes glittered. She licked her lips and then put them to the rim of the glass and sipped, making the motion a sensuous kiss. She closed her eyes. "Tell Laura, tell your mom you are going to fuck the neighbor. I imagine she will want to watch but will go to bed and masturbate, knowing you are next door fucking Annie. If she begs you, you must refuse her. She wants this but denying her till the last possible moment will give her the greatest satisfaction. Go do Annie again, Chris. Get it out of your system." I waited.

"Again? I am not sure I can."

"Then tomorrow. But now, tonight is best. She won't expect another visit so soon. Let's keep her off-balance. Maybe sleep for a while but wake up around two and slip over. Did you get the keys to a door?"

"She had them on the table, labeled 'spares'. I could not miss them. Shit Sonny, there were five copies!" Chris wheezed. "Shit, Sonny! She wants us all!" He took another huge breath. "Okay. Okay. Okay. I am hard! I'll go fuck her now." He hung up.

Quiet Chris! Who would have thought?

I put away my phone. "Sorry, Mrs. Clark." I said, intentionally using her formal name. "You were saying?" I asked blandly.

"Landon said you were pursuing an old woman."

"Older." I amended, smiling. "Jealous?" I returned.

Kyla looked shocked. Then her eyes softened. "Who?"

"You of course. Do you think I would tell Landon I was fucking his mother in the ass whenever I wanted? Have you eaten or are we going somewhere, a, more private?" I was a little uneasy. A quiet dinner in a romantic restaurant did not fit the airtight philosophy. But then I reconsidered, what if it did? Maybe there is a woman who thinks 'airtight' is a romantic interlude; naw, not likely. But some wanted it the same way Annie Kingston wanted it, dreaming of us all stealing into her house and taking her unawares one at a time. Thus she can live out a rape fantasy lodged in her brain from some event in her sexual past or maybe just a fantasy. Our MILFs, however, were definitely asking for it. I regarded Kyla, wondering if she would like a cock in each hole.

Kyla stared at me. "But he said, 'trust me, I should know', what does that mean?"

Uh oh, I thought. Careful, cautious Landon had slipped. Then again, maybe not? What if he meant to imply he was doing a MILF of his own? I smirked. The fucker may have put me in this position intentionally just to fuck with me; that sounded just like him. "Are you asking me if Landon is having an affair?" I returned.

Kyla hesitated, wondering if she wanted to know, I guessed. Finally, looking guiltily at her napkin twisted in her hands, she nodded.

"He is your son, you should ask him about it. But I will say he has been somewhat secretive lately. Mysterious. I never thought about it till now." Literary license, right? The little white—or blue—lie to make things more interesting? I shrugged. Back atcha, Landon. "I could ask him, press him about it, if you wanted?"

Kyla shook her head, eyes distant. She looked up at me and said, "I have not eaten. I thought we could eat and talk."

"About what?" I was really nervous now.

"Us." Mrs. Clark said softly. "I want us to do something . . . normal? Is that the word?"

"Normal?" I was waiting to find out if she heard any of my conversation with Chris and would ask about it but she seemed preoccupied or distracted by her own little internal drama, the drama which had us sitting in Passionate Darlene's waiting for a waiter. So maybe she did not hear or better, paid no attention.

Kyla closed her eyes and the demeanor she wore like a veil seemed to slip like an ill-fitting mask. She opened them again and the strained persona of a beguiling woman she had been using since I sat down receded. "Well, not exactly normal, but, I'm sorry, Sonny. It's just, I am, you are . . . oh crap!" She bit her lip. "I think I have become obsessed with you. I want you, Sonny. I think I'd take you anyway you wanted, whatever you wanted, however you wanted. Is that wrong? I think about you all the time. I waited and waited for you to call again, the anticipation made my chest hurt. I went to bed wet, thinking about what you did to me." The words spilled out. "I know this is not good. I thought I would get over it but I can't. I want you so much I almost invited you to a hotel room to . . . " she looked around. " . . . to fuck me, take me, have me like before. No." She shook her head hard. "I want you to have me how you want me. I figured that out. Being, being . . . " she looked up at me, fear in her green eyes. "Being yours, it, arouses me. I like being owned like that. But I know you don't own me. I thought you would not even want me till you called and told me, said what you said about my . . . said what you said."

She stalled. The babbling words ended and she sat staring at her twisted napkin, the cloth tightly wound between her two hands. "But I got to thinking, after you called. I could do something with you, something normal and you could do whatever you decided to do with me after that. I thought, perhaps, I could take you to the opera Friday night. It would be like a casual date and you would hate it. I would see how young you are, how different we are, how wrong it is for us to be, be doing what we have done. I would get what a mistake this has been and the spell would be broken. Then you could fuck me and I would know that you are just a sex toy. That's what you are, right, a sex toy?" Kyla lifted her eyes from the table.

The candlelight made her face seem to move, shifting the shadows and light on her gaunt cheeks and high cheek bones. But gawd she was beautiful, achingly beautiful in that mature, knowledgeable way that usually scares the shit out of callow boys like me. But I did not feel frightened, I felt a whirlwind of elation which morphed into a clinching dread that the MILF List was changing into something wholly unexpected. I would not let it.

I grunted. "You are the sex toy, Mrs. Clark. But I do want to give you the best sexual experiences of your life."

Kyla's eyes widened. "But it is not good for me to be so, so, so obsessed, right?"

"Why don't we call it anticipation. When was the last time you looked at a man and thought he would give you your sexual fantasy?" I said with a grin. "What did you have in mind for our date?"

Kyla slid an envelope across the table at me, letting the more interesting first question pass unacknowledged. It had 'La Traviata' embossed on the envelope. "I asked for the best seats. You can pick me up at six. We'll have a light supper and then go. You have a tux?"

"A tux? Are you nuts?" I could not restrain myself. I felt stalked and trapped. I did not want to alienate her, Landon would be furious. Well, everyone would be I guessed. I took a deep breath.

Kyla's face closed. She started to pull the envelope back.

I felt the sudden chill. I had to do something so I put a hand on it and drew it from under her fingers. "I never wore a tux before. I know nothing about them." A lie. I had been bound up in a cumber bun and tails before and I looked dashing, to say the least. "How much are they?"

Kyla smiled tightly. "I know an excellent place to rent them. You can go give them measurements tomorrow. I will have it paid for and it will be ready by noon on Friday."

"And where am I supposed to go to change into it? Do you really think I am going to leave the house in a tux without causing a stir?" My objections were tumbling out. I would have been better served to shut up and listen. But I felt panicked. This was going in an entirely unexpected direction. "Do you really want to be seen with me, in public, where people might know you?"

Now Kyla, unaccountable smiled. "Oh yes, you see this is known as Cougar night at the opera. Oh, it is not called that, formally. It is called 'Youth Night at the Opera' and tickets are reserved for the 'younger generation'. We, the patrons of the opera are supposed to bring someone half our age," she giggled, "or younger, to the opera, sort of a 'take your kid to work' event. Most people bring children, sons, daughters, that sort of thing but it is well known that many men and some women will appear with casual acquaintances, hookers, escorts, gigolos and more often, mistresses or for women, boytoys. Perfectly respectable people parade around high society with prostitutes on their arms or his shy niece or her pool boy. There is a party afterwards, sponsored by the Society of Frustrated Women," Kyla giggled. "Not really. The Society of Famous Women, actually, a group who sponsors events throughout the city. I am a member. I think your mother is a member. The afterparty is thrown by Guy D'Arnot and his wife Vivien. It is just a social get together for anyone wanting to have sex on the sly with everyone watching. An odd sort of thing but coy and often couples split up and, well, you know. Think of it like the druidic festivals when everyone could give into their baser natures."

Kyla sounded so excited. I got an idea and I got excited as well. Ideas were good and so far, they had not led me wrong. Do not fuck with a winning streak, goes the saying from Bull Durham. I put the tickets into my pocket. "Where are the seats?" I asked, the plot forming with surprising ease, an elegant 'next step' in sharing the MILF list.

"I don't know. I did not look. I asked for the best remaining."

We ate, we chatted, I flirted and talked dirty to her but we made no real plans beyond the date at the opera. Nor did we touch which seemed to pique my arousal and, I am guessing, hers as well. Just before we left I told her to wear something fetching and no panties, I would fuck her in the dark. She merely smiled and we parted with a polite hug and air kisses. What a fucking weird meeting, er, whatever you want to call it!

I went straight home to my mother. I knocked on her door and poked my head into her room.

Mom was in bed reading. She pulled the strap of her nightie down the slope of her breast and leered at me.

"No, Mom that is not why I came in here. Kyla Clark is taking me to the opera Lay Trattoria or something."

Mom laughed. "La Traviata, dear. It's about a prostitute, I think." She slipped the strap back into place.

I approached the bed and pulled the ticket envelop from my pocket. "I want you to take these tickets and trade them for a group of four. I am going to get one of the guys to take you, to the opera I mean. You will have seats next to us, which will be suitably awkward."

"You mean the Cougar night at the Opera?" My mother smiled. "I always wanted to go to that. Who will you get to go with me?" Her eyes glinted

"I'll let you know. Just be ready around six on Friday, before the girls get home. Take him some place nice, feed him and then go to the opera and we'll see you there."

In my room, I called Landon. I told him my mother wanted to go to the Cougar night at the Opera and asked if he would go with her. He hesitated. "Yes, you can take advantage of her if you get the chance." I said. "She really wants to go but has never had the hutzpah to go. You would be perfect. You have a tux, I bet."

"Yes, I have a tux. Mom used to take me but I have not gone in several years. It could be fun."

"I'll tell Mom to go commando." I said.

Landon chuckled. "Wait a minute, Mom likes to go to those things . . . " He stopped.

I could hear him thinking but I wanted to say it out loud. "Wondering who she has been taking since you quit going with her?" I asked.

Landon grunted. "No." He said and hung up.

I doubted his denial. I smiled. Surprising people could be such a fun endeavor.

The next day I filled Mom in on the details. She got us four tickets right together. Chris called later and told me he did Annie again. He said she never spoke a word but gave him everything he wanted. He asked if he could go back but I told him to wait a while. Make her long for it.

"I long for it, why should I have to wait?" Chris persisted.

"Better is coming. You need to be ready."

"Oh." He said. "Oh! Who's next?"

"I think Mrs. Honeywell is ready to be airtight." I knew he would blab to the guys. I talked to her earlier in the week and discovered she would be out of town this weekend. We would have to wait. I wanted her next, airtight and screaming with orgasm. I chuckled. In the meantime, two others till needed to be prepped, which is to say they needed to be mounted by their sons.

Friday seemed a long way away but it arrived with a flurry of activity; tux, then dinner and finally we were walking up the grand stair way to the entrance to the opera house, more of a utility concert hall but it served. We were seated next to two empty seats when the lights went down. They arrived from the other direction from where Kyla sat and since they were on the aisle, it was easy not to notice their arrival. My mother, however, sat beside me and leaned in and whispered, "You naughty boy!" They were next to me so Kyla did not notice Landon and Cici Duncan till the lights came up after the second act. She grabbed my arm and leaned in close.

"Look who is sitting next to you!" She hissed. "What is your mother doing here?"

I glanced around at them. They were shuffling their feet and NOT looking at us. "Do you see who she is with?" I hissed back.

Kyla sneaked a peek past me and gasped. "My gawd, that's Landon!"

Her grip on my arm became painful.

"Kyla? Is that you? Oh my gawd, Kyla, if I had known you had the same idea I had, we could have come in the same car!" My mother gushed, leaning over me, pressing her ample bosom into my arm and giving me a fine view down between her breasts. I ran a hand over the lower slope of her tit as it pressed into me.

"Ah, hello Cici." Kyla looked past my mother's outstretched hand to the shocked face of her son.

Landon glanced at me and I felt elated. I had got him finally, after being behind all these years, he was finally thunderstruck by something I did! "Hi Landon. Mom asked me to go and I said I had a date. I had no idea . . . "

"I hope you don't mind." He said earnestly.

I had an arm around Kyla and pulled her into his view, or more fully into his view. "I hope YOU don't mind." I returned. Then I grinned my most wicked grin which Mom saw but Kyla did not. Landon's face registered something, a glint of a hint of understanding through the cloud of amazed, aroused confusion. His hand was on my mother's leg, the inside of her thigh, under the white fabric well above her knee. He slowly pressed it higher till she shifted to allow him access. I wondered if she had eschewed panties as I suggested. Her legs were bare at least.

"Let's have a drink," my mother said in a tense but bright voice. Landon withdrew his hand and I glanced around to see if Kyla was watching. She was.

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