MILF Swallows Like A Good Girl For Her Son’s Friend

Callie Ayers fought the urge to punch the cookie dough she was kneading. She wanted to imagine it was her husband Vance’s face. Tomorrow was their anniversary, but he decided a last-minute trip to a fantasy convention with their son was the perfect way to bond now that he’d graduated.

Not that Callie would miss out on any particularly great anniversary sex. That had waved goodbye a decade ago, about the last time Vance saw a gym. But never mind that, she told herself. She would have an amazing anniversary by herself. First came eating her feelings with monstrous cookie ice cream sandwiches and a mountain of Chinese food, and then tomorrow came a day of pampering herself and a shopping bonanza that would make Vance’s blood pressure skyrocket.

The front door opened, and for a split second, Callie allowed herself to believe that it was her husband and son returning home from Atlanta early. But that was dashed when Dean Clark called, “Hey, Bill, you home?”

“He’s not, but I am,” Callie called back. “In the kitchen.”

Dean shut the door and came into the kitchen. He looked as yummy as always, slim and short but well-muscled from his love of baseball and working out. Ever since his eighteenth birthday party a couple months back, the young man had an odd way of creeping into Callie’s fantasies. Never had she thought about him like that before, but now that he was eighteen, her mind seemed to purr, “Ooh, he’s on the menu now? We’ll have him.”

He looked a little sweaty and grass-stained. Dean mowed yards for summer work. He must have just finished up for the day. His eyes didn’t know what to settle on, her plunging blue top that outlined her big breasts nicely or the tight khaki shorts and her juicy ass underneath. She grinned at his dumbstruck silence.

“See something you like?” she asked.

“You’ve got… uh… flour… everywhere,” he stammered. Dean might have been good with the girls his age, but with his friend’s mom, he was usually reduced to mindless goo. It always amused her.

“I’m making cookies.”

The thought of baked treats must have got Dean’s motor going, because he jumped. “Oh, man, that sounds good.”

“Got any other lawns you need to take care of?”

“Nope, I don’t.”

“Good. Stick around. Keep me company.”

“Hey, if it means I get to taste your cookies…”

“You’re awful. Wash your hands.”

He did, scrubbing them thoroughly and splashing some of the water on his face to cool down. When he joined her, she nodded towards the chocolate chips. “Two cups of those.”

He grabbed them and poured them into a measuring cup. A handful fell away from the cup and he swiped them up. Feeling a little daring and wanting to tease him, Callie turned her head and opened her mouth, pointing to it.

“You serious?” he asked, his voice qurelous and excited all at once.

“I’m always serious about chocolate.”

He blushed fiercely, but took a couple of the chocolate chips and put them in her mouth. She thought for a brief moment about sucking his fingers just for fun, but that was pushing things too far.

What are you doing, Callie?

Staring at her cleavage in the blue top, he said, “Where are Bill and Mr. Ay… ohhhh, the convention.”

“That’s right,” she said, taking the cup from him and pouring the chocolate chips into the bowl.

“I thought that was next week.”

“No, it’s today. And tomorrow.” She rolled her eyes theatrically. “Our anniversary.”

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Mm hm. Thus the cookies. I’m going to make ice cream sandwiches out of them. Therapy by sugar,” she said, not sure why she was laying all this out there except that maybe Dean wasn’t the only one nervous in that room. He smelled of both sporty deodorant and sweat, and it was intoxicating. She wanted to pin him down and rub all over him, to wallow in the scent like an animal.

And… maybe do other things.

“That sucks,” Dean said.

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean it. You’re like… the perfect woman. You deserve an awesome anniversary.”

“No one’s perfect, Dean,” she said, blushing at his awkward attempt at a compliment. “But thank you.”

“Maybe not,” he said. “But you’re always the best mom.”

“Don’t you think your mom would be mad about you saying that?”

He ignored that. “You’re there. You’re always there. Games and school stuff and just… here. For them. And you’re crazy beautiful. Like… the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Mr. Ayers doesn’t deserve you and if he doesn’t see that, then he’s an idiot.”

She turned towards him, lips parting. As clumsy as Dean’s words were, the sentiment was what she needed in that moment. A reminder of her worth.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“You’ve got some flour on you,” he said, staring at her top. Callie looked down too. She really did have it dusted in a few spots. But then her eyes lit on his jeans, and the bulge there. She fought back a moan or a giggle. She was never quite sure later which.

Cheeks now burning red, Callie went to the sink to grab a washcloth and dab some of it off herself. Hands reached around her. His hands. He pressed his hardness against her ass, and she breathed in sharply.

“Let me help you, Mrs. Ayers,” he murmured.

Grinding his cock against her, he took the washcloth from her trembling fingers. She should stop this. She should say no. But oh God, it had been so long since she had another man other than her husband, and Dean was so young and so fucking handsome. She moaned when the washcloth dabbed at her breasts, at the nonexistent flour there.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered, even as she ground back against him

He thrust against her ass, the washcloth circling her breast as he panted, “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“I… I’m married… you’re so young…”

“He doesn’t deserve you, Mrs. Ayers.”

When he dropped the cloth and filled his hands with her big tits, she reached up, feeling so light, so very distant from that moment.

And held his hands right where they were.

“This is wrong, this is so wrong,” Callie said.

He bent his head to kiss her neck, accidentally targeting one of her most sensitive sensual spots. She pushed backwards against his cock and rose up on her toes as his hungry mouth trailed her neck and shoulder. She reached out and turned off the water, and he took the moment to yank her top up and over her breasts. She gripped it and finished taking it off for him as his hands shot back to her tits in her bra.

His hips hammered against hers, dry-humping the hot mom with unguarded youthful exuberance. The bra’s cups came down, her massive tits bouncing free. He moaned, “Mrs. Ayers…”

She thought for a brief moment about telling him to call her Callie, that since he was currently drilling her clothed ass with his huge eighteen-year-old cock he could probably get away with her first name. The thought almost made her giggle but he got her nipples between his fingers and she moaned instead.

Her hands dropped to her shorts and she undid them, thinking about Vance, about the last time he tried to fuck her in that kitchen, her seated up on the counter, him between her legs, trying to lift his beer gut out of the way and apologizing when he couldn’t make it good for her.

Dean could, she thought as her shorts dropped and she kicked out of them.

He dropped a hand to her panties and yanked them down. She leaned against the counter as he stared down at her ass and unzipped himself as fast as he could. His cock pressed against her lips and she cried out as he shoved himself inside her pussy, filling her so fucking good.

His hand tugged her hairband free of her long, silky dark hair. His hips slammed against hers, making her ass ripple with him as he fucked her harder and harder.

“Fucking… me… so good…” Callie moaned.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” he said, his hands going again to her tits.

She twisted her head to look at him as he bounced her back and forth. She wanted him to kiss her, but somehow, strangely, that felt like even more of a betrayal than this. Fucking was an animalistic need. Kissing was an intimate one. If he kissed her, a part of Callie knew she would belong to Dean, that in her heart of hearts she would want this again and again and again, no matter how dangerous it was.

The conflict in her heart only added to the passion of the moment. She still loved Vance but Dean was giving her something she hadn’t felt in so very fucking long — passion. Worship. Desire.

His mouth came to Callie’s. Pleasure shredded her and remade her in that moment. She clawed at his face, coming, coming so hard that it nearly made her boneless, an orgasm that made her want to cry out her lover’s name until she realized that was exactly what she was doing.

“Deaaaaaan!” she wailed.

“DId you?” he asked, his cock filling her again and again as her pussy quivered around him. “Did you come?”

“Yessss,” she said, “came for you, I came so hard for you…”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he said, fondling her tits even harder before his lips clamped to hers again.

Her phone rang on the counter behind them. She ignored it, too busy clashing tongues with Dean to worry about her husband. She was Dean’s now, and she was already fantasizing about what was to come. Taking him to her bed. The couch. The bath. The thought of him fucking her against the shower wall made her words spill out of her, her second orgasm approaching so fast. So very fucking fast.

“He’s fucking me, baby,” she whimpered, “Bill’s best friend is fucking me, he’s got his big cock inside me, ohhhh, ohhh fuck…”

“You don’t deserve her,” Bill said, a note of smugness entering his voice. “I do. I’m fucking her good. She’s coming for me.”

“Yessss,” she whined, “coming for him, coming so hard for him…”

“Fat lazy fuck doesn’t, ugh, doesn’t deserve this,” Dean gasped.

The words should have pissed her off. But a dark glee made Callie laugh at the same time as she started to come again. Fat. Lazy. Fuck. Fat. Lazy. Fuck. She never knew she chanted the words to the rhythm of the cock pounding her pussy, only that in that moment, her marriage was cracked forever. Guilt would creep in about that moment only hours later, when Dean was passed out beside her, her cunt still messy with his fifth load of the day. But in that moment she held such contempt for Vance that it changed her heart and soul irrevocably.

“I’m close,” Dean gasped.

Callie yanked away from him, his big cock sliding free and gleaming with her juices. She twisted in his arms and dropped to her knees, the hot mom grinning up at him, cheeks bright red. She took his cock in her hands and sucked him down, bobbing up and down the length of him as her delicate tongue whipped against his base. He grabbed her head, and like with the fucking, he lost control, railing her face over and over and over again, making her gag, making her eyes water as she choked on his cock. Callie would have had it no other way this first time, the time she would remember always.

He came down her throat and in her mouth and she coughed and swallowed and sprayed some of it out of the corners of her mouth, so much of him, so very fucking much.

I’m his now, she thought with dazed delight as she ran her fingers through the come on her chin. I’m Dean’s. I’m his MILF toy now. And he can do this to me anytime he likes.

She brought the fingers to her lips, sucked the come down, and grinned up at her panting young lover, wondering just how fast he’d be ready again.

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