Stepmom Adventures Part 3

Stepmom Takes Me to the Movies

And then she gets on her knees and pulls an “Alanis Morissette”

I’ve been riding my two-wheeler pretty much nonstop since my stepmom Wilma taught me how. Unfortunately, it’s raining today, so I’m stuck inside. The good news is there are plenty of indoor activities I’ve been meaning to catch up on.

I’m just about to whip out my dick and start jerking off when there’s a knock at my bedroom door. When your stepmom is as hot as Wilma, it’s not so bad to be interrupted. In fact, she might even offer to lend a helping hand.

“Come on in,” I shout.

“Hey, Sweetie,” she says plopping down on my bed. She’s in a tiny denim skirt and a cropped tank top, which is more clothing than she usually wears around the house in the summer. Her cleavage glistens with a light coating of sweat.

“Hey, Wilma. What’s up?”

She sighs. “Oh, I’m just bored. I thought I’d come in and see what you are up to.”

“Well, actually, I was just about to jerk off, if you wanna…”

She smiles. “Maybe later, but I’m feeling kind of stir-crazy and I need to get out of the house. Wanna see a movie? My treat?”

Wilma turns 21 in October, then for six months she’ll only be five years younger than me, which will make me feel slightly less weird about our relationship. It doesn’t help when she says things like “my treat.”

“What would you want to see?” I ask.

“That new Alec Baldwin movie, Back to School. It’s supposed to be hilarious.”

“It’s a re-make, you know. The original came out in 1986, starring Ronny Dangerfield. You’re too young to have seen it.”

“Oh, please,” she says, giving me a playful slap on the knee. “You’re only a few years older than me. And it’s Rodney Dangerfield, by the way. Sounds like you haven’t seen it either.”

“Touché.”

I’ve seen it many times, actually. Rodney Dangerfield was my real mom’s favorite comedian. I just like messing with Wilma because she always gives me playful slaps on the knee, which makes me feel all tingly inside.

“Anyway, this version is supposed to be good,” she says. “So, what do you say? Wanna go see it with me?”

I yawn and stretch. “I don’t know, I’m pretty cozy in here. And horny.”

“Oh, you’re always horny. Come on, I’ll take you out for ice cream afterwards.”

“How will ice cream cure my horniness?”

“Fine. I’ll throw in a blowjob, too.”

“Deal.”

***

A rainy Saturday afternoon means a crowded cineplex. Luckily, Back to School has been out for a while, so our theater isn’t too crowded. We have a whole row to ourselves, which is good in case the movie is boring and we need to find something else to do in the dark.

Wilma acts mature for her age, but she definitely has a Gen-Z attention span. So do I, of course.

“Oh, shit, did we just see Lizzo’s nipple?” I whisper.

Lizzo is playing Alec Baldwin’s biology professor. Their scandalous age-gap love affair reminds me of the one I’m having with Wilma. Al Pacino, who plays the disapproving dean, is acting exactly like my father does when he returns home from a business trip and sees the way my stepmom and I look at each other.

“Shh,” Wilma says, slapping me on the knee.

The theater is cold, and I’ve got goosebumps on my leg. Thankfully, she leaves her warm hand on my thigh after the slap.

In spite of the distractions, the movie eventually draws me in. To my surprise, it’s not just a laugh riot either; there are some heavy dramatic moments as well. Madonna, who plays Alec Baldwin’s wife in a flashback scene, gives a career performance. When she’s trampled to death during the running of the bulls in Spain, I can’t help but get a little choked up because it’s exactly what happened to my mom in real life.

“Are you ok, Sweetie?” Wilma whispers.

I nod, but my tears betray me.

“Come here.” She pulls my head to her bosom and strokes the side of my face. The softness is both comforting and arousing. Still, for some reason, I can’t stop sobbing. Maybe it’s the soundtrack.

Danny Elfman has really outdone himself this time. He scored the original Rodney Dangerfield film, but the music for the remake is even more emotional, with his signature wordless chorus and staccato triplets hitting me right in the feels.

And let’s be honest. Rodney was a funny comedian, but Alec Baldwin is a much better actor. When he holds his dying wife in his arms and whispers their little inside joke one last time, I can’t help but fall to pieces.

I can tell Wilma is being moved and aroused as well. As my tears soak into her tank top, I feel her hard nipple against my cheek. I nuzzle against it and put my arm around her.

“I think I know how to cheer you up,” she whispers. “Here. Sit back.”

She gets out of her seat and drops to the sticky floor between my legs. My sob becomes a hiccup as I take a deep breath. She gropes the bulge forming in my shorts, teasing it, warming it. By the time she unzips me, I’m already at half-mast.

On the screen, the poignant flashback is over and Baldwin is once again getting into wacky college hijinks. With my attention split between what he’s up to and what Wilma is doing, I lose track of the story. Why is there a goat in the dean’s office chomping on his Harvard diploma?

The woman flashing her tits at the traffic cop reminds me of the glorious mounds right in front of me. I reach down into Wilma’s tank top and squeeze her soft flesh. She lets out a pleasureful sigh before taking my cock into her mouth. Inch by inch, she works her way down my shaft like a python swallowing its dinner.

Wilma can’t see what’s happening behind her, but in a bizarre coincidence, her head bobbing is perfectly synced up to Lizzo’s as the larger-than-life pop star treats Alec Baldwin to a generous study break. I try to match my moans to Alec’s to avoid attracting the attention of the 20 or so audience members scattered in the first few rows.

They must be marveling at the quality of this theater’s surround sound speaker system.

I try to hold my orgasm back until Alec is ready, but apparently, Lizzo isn’t as good at blowjobs as Wilma is. I grip the armrests and clench my teeth to avoid yelling out as I bust my load into her mouth. She swallows the gravy and wipes her mouth.

“Who needs popcorn?” she whispers, coming up from the floor.

It’s now graduation day, and wouldn’t you know it? A bird has just shat in Al Pacino’s eye during his commencement remarks.

After learning a valuable lesson about perseverance and staying focused, Alec Baldwin walks across the stage with dignity and a new sense of self. He throws his cap into the air and the picture freezes as Elgar’s Imperial March transitions into Elfman’s boisterous finale music. My heart soars.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Wilma whispers. “But now, it’s your turn.” She pulls back her skirt to reveal that she’s not wearing underwear.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“But the movie’s over. The lights are going to be coming on soon.”

“Well, then, you better hurry.”

Most end credits sequences are between seven and 10 minutes long. On my best day, I’ve never made a woman cum that fast. But if Alec Baldwin can beat the odds and get an engineering degree from Caltech after three months of study at the ripe old age of 65, then anything is possible.

Wilma knocked over her soda when she was blowing me, turning the floor into a sugary fly trap. There’s no way I’m getting down there. That means my only option is to reach over the armrest. The gum-riddled plastic digs into my ribcage as I stretch for her crotch.

I’m relieved to see that her pussy is already damp. I guess I have Alec Baldwin and his sexy buttocks to thank for that as well. You don’t see a lot of men his age doing nude scenes, but the tropes of the genre demanded it. His bravery is inspiring.

“That’s it, Sweetie,” Wilma coos as I flick her savory meat curtains with my tongue.

I suck her clit until it plumps up in my mouth like a Ball Park frank on the grill, then I give it a little nibble. I can tell by the mellow string melody that we’re already at the credits for the special effects team. A movie like this doesn’t have a lot of visual effects, so I don’t have much time.

I add two fingers to the mix, slipping them inside her up to the knuckle and making the “come hither” motion. She pets my head to let me know she’s close.

Just as the final note fades out, Wilma’s body starts to twitch. Her thighs close around my head, cutting off all sound. I lap up as much of her hot honey as I can before it soaks into the polyester fabric of the seat.

Luckily, she’s not a screamer.

When I finally emerge from her pussy, the audience is clapping, and I can’t help but imagine the applause is for me. She gives me a passionate kiss right before the lights turn on.

“That was the best movie I’ve seen in a long time,” I say. “Now let’s go home and watch the original.”

“Don’t you want to go out for ice cream?”

“No thanks. I’d rather just have more of your delicious cream.”

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