In her words, I was “her regular Tuesday afternoon thing.” But she only said it because she knew I liked to hear it. I still remember how we met. I lingered after class to have an excuse to talk to her and we happened to run into each other again at the elevator. She stared at me with feral eyes as we rose, both leaning our own sides of the elevator. Suddenly she made a grab kiss for me. He tongue shot down my throat and I moaned, in shock. The elevator stopped on the fifth floor and she punched ground again.
“Not a word, you fucking virgin,” she said. “Not one fucking word. And no, not for one minute. Don’t think that. That’s the reason we’re spending the next seven hours in bed. She led me out through the parking lot by the hand to a double cab truck. I wanted to make a joke that she was compensating for something but didn’t dare. She eyed me with a hint of nervousness. “It’s not a stereotype. They’re little dick mobiles. Get in back. We’re not waiting. It was early evening in the late spring, still broad daylight. But the windows were tinted. She climbed in my lap then winced and leaned sideways. “Big dick,” she said, obviously unintentionally. “It’s too tight.” I grabbed her waist to make sure she couldn’t get up and, instead, pulled her onto me, oblivious to the fact that I was having sex for the first time.
“I’ve taken the virginity of over fifty men and boys,” she panted. “Some were students, but not all.”
“Is it always like this? I feel like I’m fucking my mom.”
“I think so.” She undid her blouse buttons and pulled her bra over her head. “Truth is, I wouldn’t be doing you right now except for the bulge in your pants.” She pulled my head to her breasts. “Hands to hold them in place only. No squeezing. No teeth. Suck in as hard as you can. Push out with your tongue on my nipple. That’s a good boy.” She began to ride me with more enthusiasm. “It’s eight centimeters, Michael. And he blows almost right away. If you’re going to marry someone you feel you should be with rather than someone you love, make sure she has money at least. Gawd, yeah! Your fucking dick in me. He made thirty thousand dollars last year. Who the fuck cares if his father was dean of English at Northwestern and British as well and he has better manners than James Bond. He’s a fucking drunk and a derelict but he does he does it with more class than you’d believe. He carries a lighter to light my cigarettes but he doesn’t smoke himself. I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t Mommy make any milk for you?”
“You know you did,” I said hurriedly and returned to her breast but she put a hand on my chin and lifted my face and kissed me again. Our tongues slid over each other, in and out, fucking each other’s mouths as she rode my virgin dick. “Can I ask you a question?”
“As long as it’s not about whether I fuck on the first date because you know I do.” I stared at her, shocked by her choice of words, but in a good way. She reached out and pinched my cheeks. “You know exactly what I mean. You aren’t going to be a virgin at all after tonight.” She kissed me affectionately. “It’s only right, Michael. If you get to stuff your monster dick in my tight, hot cunt then I get to sample the hot little piece of ass your mommy raised, baby. That I raised. For me. To fill my pussy. I groomed you for this your whole life.”
“Mommy?”
“Please call me Lea. Or Mistess. Or Doctor Lea. I’m cumming constantly as it is. And please don’t tell your father I said how small his dick is.”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“You bastard.” She put her hands on my underarms and ground against me with increased vigor.
“You’re not really my Mommy,” I said, returning to her breasts.
“Oh, I think I am.”
“What kind of mother sneaks into her son’s room and sucks his dick in his sleep?”
“Michael,” she groaned in exasperation. “How many times do we have to have this conversation.”
“You play with yourself while you do it, Professor.”
“I don’t think we should talk about it.”
“Then you need to quit fucking doing it.
It’s the whole reason I bought you that cherry four poster bed. Kiss me.”
We moaned into each others mouth’s for minutes then she tried to squirm off of me, too sore from cumming. I held her waist and wouldn’t let her. She took my cock, caressing it, soothing into submission with the wet, soft walls of her pussy, eager to claim her prize, the last of my virgin cum. “By the way, you lost your virginity two months ago that night you came home drunk, the day I burned the fried chicken you could smell through the house for hours. I had no idea you could fuck for three quarters of an hour. I was so horny all day. You didn’t see me until eight at night. After sleeping for three hours, I spent the day in my bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, masturbating again and again and again. It was like my whole body was buzzing. I’ve never felt anything like it. Bless you, baby, for being such a hot fuck.”
I had clearly cum though I didn’t remember it and I was whining like an eight-year-old girl for her to get off of me.
“Even the second time, you were better than the other fifty,” she smiled. “Let’s get fermented bean curd on the way home.”
“I can’t believe you eat that shit.”
“It’s soul food.”
