COUGAR MUM

MILF, Virgin

I never saw my own mother as a MILF. Divorced yes. Single mom, certainly. Menopausal, probably. Cougar: NO.

So, I was entirely surprised when my mum, 'Valerie', introduced Josh Roberts.

Talk about embarrassed; Josh was in my ancient history class, which must account for his interest in seniors.

The prick also attended my modern history class, but he'd never taken a slight interest in me.

My nerdy disposition. My yet-to-be-removed braces, a current flare of acne, frizzy hair beyond control, and small boobs. I won't go on.

Of course, he adjusted to polite small talk in my lounge room.

Anyway, give me a break; would you like to see guys your age hitting on your mum as a MILF and passing you up.

How did a generation of young guys become cougarized? 

Don't answer that.

I know young guys screw anything with a pussy, but it seems to stop at nerdy frizzy-haired, small-boobed chicks.

It was all I could do to avoid cringing or having a coughing fit as he called Mum, "Valerie."

He looked me up and down. I thought the prick he was comparing me and finding me lacking; no make-up like mum and how had I missed out on her stacked rack and feminine dress sense.

'Whoa mum, take a cold shower' and Josh too, as there was close body brushing and the touchy flirty stuff right in front of me; in the lounge like they were about to go carpet sixty-nine in front of me.

Look, Josh was reasonable; I knew he was doing it tough in a few ways. No mum after a cancer death, only his dad for support. Bottom line; he was a guy, and given my zero-hit rate: he would have done for my first pash, first tit fondle, initially feel up or virgin root and not necessarily in that order: and then it hit me; he had been screwing my mum; yuck.

I knew Mum had been fucking someone unlike myself for a while. I picked up on her ease, more relaxed demeanour, smile when small things didn't go right, and lack of sexual tension over the past few weeks.

Especially since Dad had walked out twelve months ago, caught fucking his secretary, but shagging the tart for years apparently, and the divorce papers were only signed a couple of months ago. I had heard the buzz of her vibrator late at night and her barely suppressed pleasure moans in the months that followed, but not recently.

Mum had taken to disappearing at night, claiming office callbacks on a rush major restaurant and nightclub project.

When she had been out shopping recently, I finally looked at her pleasure toy, slim pink and ribbed, but the thought of putting a vibrator in my pussy when it had been in hers. Still, I made a pulsing start and got rid of my hymen.

However, I gave up. I'm a clitty, rubbing girly.

I recalled her vibrator noises and her unsuppressed moans going past her door. At least I was quiet in the bathroom, under the shower stream, using the water jet for a smashing clit impact to relieve my tension at regular intervals quietly.

However: I was now the hormonal deprived 'cow' in the house, and that's unacceptable for the 'heifer', and given our age gap, well, it was utterly wrong: totally screwed up.

I mean, doesn't your sex drive dry up over forty-five. She was close to menopause; what about youth getting its fair share, especially with a guy my age.

It was frustration overload on my part. I was jealous that my mum still had it and was getting it, and I hadn't even started.

Though, to be fair to her, she had gorgeous tits. I had got the frigging flat chest from dad's family side of the gene pool. And while mum wore dresses and heels, had her hair done regularly, followed a make-up routine, and encouraged me, any effort on her part in my presentation was lost in her several-month divorce sulk.

Suffice it to say that I didn't dress well or apply make-up. And now I was overwhelmed by her renewed interest in preening herself in any mirror and flicking back her hair, but hitting on a guy my age: I couldn't cope.

My tension now hit peak levels of unrequited need as I heard them fuck repeatedly next door as Josh stayed for the first time overnight.

I had made excuses for homework and left them on the sofa, not even contemplating he would be here in the morning, let alone that I would hear his groans and my mother's moans all night. We are talking loud sex here. They were still at it past two fucking o'clock; as I wrapped my pillow around my head and tried to get the image of my mother being dogged out of my mind; besides, it put me off touching myself. I had attempted to earlier but could only picture my mother's legs spread high and wide. I was in self coochie depravation mode.

As I approached the bathroom the following day, I heard giggles and sniggers behind the door.

OMG, they were showering together!

The thought of a classmate soaping my mum's tits and lathering between her legs wasn't how I wanted to start the day. It was putting me off my own usual shower slit time.

They showered for an indecently long time.

Mum came down to breakfast in a steamy camisole. Josh appeared in silky boxers, hardly hiding a partial hard-on. I noticed his hair was still wet; he had a nice chest, but I lost his maleness in a series of jealous thoughts.

Make yourself at home…Move-in…why don't ya!

"Valerie …coffee…black and one sugar…was that right…sweetie;" he asked as mum was cooking him pancakes. Even with honey on my toast, I knew I was in a sour mood: 'Sweetie…WTF …The bitch hadn't done pancakes for years …I had to remember back …too far…'

Josh was looking at me, staring.

I wondered if he had gotten his balls back and realised youth was for youth.

Then I realised I looked like a rag doll in my old flannelette pj's and my frizzy hair unmanageable and unruly before a shower, not tied.

Next, I felt my cheek and confronted a reddening puss erupting zit emerging.

This was esteem destroying; though the two love birds didn't even seem to care, I was there as they fed each other nibbles of honey-soaked pancakes.

I left my toast and juice unfinished, showered and got ready for school.

Hopefully, he would be gone when I got downstairs. Yes, it was a quick shower; I couldn't fondle myself, knowing semen had splashed around the shower bay a bit earlier.

However, my humiliation and mortification were just starting as Mum insisted:

"Josh will drive you to school."

Jeez, that harsh teasing mob of pricks on the bus looked good today.

As if I could go to school in Josh's car. What was Mum thinking; either Josh or I would get the gossip machine in full swing.

Well, mate…is Kel a decent shag… with a bag over her head…?'

Or my chess club friends would dump me as a traitor for setting my standards too low.

Hell, I had no standards with guys; I just wanted a guy to take an interest in me, and boy, would I take an interest in him, with him in me.

Damn, a two-seater older model sports car.

I sat next to him as we headed through suburban morning traffic to college.

There was no conversation until Josh started it, and it was bizarre: "Look, Kelsea, I really think your mum is hot; super-hot; you know we have been together for a month now."

My curiosity nearly got the better of me.

I mean, you wonder how they met and where they had been doing it, and then I realised I was sitting where my mum had been grinding away late into the night over the past weeks.

Instead of responding to Josh, I tried to shut down visions of my mum's jiggling tits, open moaning mouth, and hard-cocked orgasm exactly where my arse uncomfortably squirmed.

Josh kept the conversation flowing one way: "My stepdad's one of Valerie's firms' clients, and we met at the opening of the new nightclub and restaurant, Warehouse One, but I suppose that's not your thing?"

There he went again, using her first name.

Cringe, I slid down the seat, near wanting to curl up, my foetal retraction moment, etcetera.

Luckily, he was reasonably early, and very few other students were around. I escaped a significant embarrassment, but I chewed over what the hell would happen tonight at my place and every subsequent night into the future!

After school, home alone, I changed into my daggy, comfy wear and hit scoops of chocolate ice cream. Comfort food; well, a girl has to indulge herself somehow. I was eighteen, and my body seemed oblivious to the world.

Then the doorbell rang.

I told myself if it was Josh, leave the prick outside!

Through the security peephole, I saw a guy in a suit, maybe a middle-aged salesman who knew.

He blurted straight out before I could ask what we wanted:

"My apologies; is Josh here," he started, and I realised it was the prick's stepdad.

"He didn't come home last night or this morning, and his phone tracking app led me here."

The dick had left his phone in Mum's bedroom or somewhere, probably filming themselves at it; last night!

I needed to stop visualising my mum as a daughter shouldn't.

"I didn't realise he had a cute girlfriend and was sleeping over; he doesn't tell me much," he added.

Someone in the world thought I was getting laid.

Yet embarrassed, too; how should I start correcting the guy.

I innocently attempted.

"Look, Josh isn't here, but he was…and um…well…not with me."

He scratched his head and had that nonplussed, I don't follow your train of thought look as I blurted it out, all virginal integrity, God knows why, ending with: "Josh was with my mum and left his phone here."

"Oh my, I'm so sorry; please accept my sincere apology. I thought, and I shouldn't have, how wrong of me."

And I could see his genuineness.

I saved him because he was a nice guy. He didn't demean my mum or question Josh's cougar tastes. He explained he had worked with my mum's company and knew her.

"I'll be off then; sorry again about what I implied; so sorry," and he backed a step to leave.

"Wait," I said: "Come in. I'll get Josh's phone for you."

Inside, he introduced himself as Duncan, and I offered him coffee before I started phone hunting.

I made the coffee, we sat on the lounge, and we just talked, and it was strange because he allowed the focus to be me.

He took an interest in my interests in computer programming, chess and pure maths. He was an architect interested in design software and a chess player like myself.

I wished he was my age. I'd be a forty-year-old virgin before I found my soul mate.

He had designed the layout of the new multiple entertainment venue, Warehouse One.

Between talking, I noticed he looked at me; my body: mental check…yes…my body.

Then I realised…damn…my old floppy shorts and braless t-shirt; even small boobs wobble and nipples point under cotton. 

What the hell did he think of me?

Strangely, I cared.

"You are one attractive girl, Kelsea, physically and mentally; you really are," he said with gentle conviction.

From there, I didn't stop him from kissing me. I was surprised at how hungry my tongue and mouth were for his lips. He worked his tongue around my clunky braces without a pause or care.

That's wrong; he did care, and I liked that.

His experienced hands moved under my t-shirt, and wow, did it feel good. I mean, my own fingers playing with my nipples is great; this was awesome.

Wow, a male finally had my breasts in hand, and as he took off my t-shirt, I closed my eyes. He massaged my small boobies and taut pinkish points, with his tongue gliding and gently sucking. Then there was this fantastic tickly, pleasurable, nice nipple nibbling.

I had never felt so happy to be a girl.

He released my feral, frizzy, curly hair as he removed my hair scrunchie. He said, "Gorgeous, wildly beautifully natural."

I purred like a smitten kitten.

At a new level of happiness, as my shorts and panties were removed by a man, there were endless firsts lined up.

Duncan may have gotten it all wrong at the front door, but he was doing plenty right between my legs inside the door.

Oh God, he was doing it right, as he just took me as I was.

My fur patch; he enjoyed my private parts and instantly embraced my fleshy uniqueness with his fingers and then his tongue.

Oh, thank you, God; it was sensational; that first moisture slide over my youthful, fresh, intact fanny.

Then he pushed his tongue into my pussy, and he nibbled on my crinkly crumpled knotty uneven lips.

We had struck a friendship in the longue after a few minutes, but my clit had an instant buddy in Duncan's tongue.

My pleasure centre had waited years for this, and Christ, it was good. It was heaven. I buckled under my own orgasm that swept through me so frickin fast. It was touch to touch, his flesh to my flesh, the pleasure given and the pleasure taken, all rolled into one.

I looked down between my own legs as Duncan penetrated me gently, tenderly, and kindly. He sensed my virgin status but didn't make a deal or fuss about it.

Then, he built the pace with my rapidly growing confidence, buoyancy and rising pleasure. Sweet Jesus, everything moved in and out of me, hard, firm, and wonderful. I finally understand the role of Mum's dildo if I had only pushed it deep into myself.

I comprehended sexual inner as only a woman can. I needed cock; I would always have to have cock; as this experience unfolded. Duncan's pleasure-pumping piston was doing a splendid job.

He wanted me to experience everything my first time, and I was happy to let his maturity lead as he pointed my arse up and spread my legs to dog me. Boy, I felt exposed and vulnerable, but I was happy and wanted it because he wanted me, all of me, my frame and cognizant self.

I moaned with total unrestrained pleasure, and he was groaning, too. Well, the house was empty as he raised himself higher behind me.

I arched back into him instinctively as the mutual bliss went into overdrive. We were into excessive orgasmic acceleration. I was being pumped, pummelled and pounded, and it was pussylicious.

I screamed:" Oh MY GOD," as I climaxed, the most intense sensation, way beyond my own fingerwork.

Even fuller than the clit work out of several minutes ago, as mum and Josh came into the lounge room from the kitchen.

With my mum unintentionally echoing me: "Oh my God…Kelsea!"

Of course, Duncan and I separated and scrabbled for clothes.

However, Josh and Mum both took in his stepdad's still erect pecker and my dribbling semen-filled hairy coochie.

Well, there wasn't anything to say.

I looked my mum and Josh straight in the eye, took Duncan by the hand, and went upstairs to my bedroom.

My bed springs made sounds I never believed they could make that evening and night. I made noises reverberating through the house as Duncan and I coupled for hours. Long after Josh and Mum had finished next door.

And I soaped my first cock and had my first shower sex; the next morning. After that, we cavorted naked past my mum's open bedroom door to get dressed.

I made Duncan hotcakes, and he dropped me off at college.

Mum and Josh were far from the front of my mind; my own sex life was dominating, monopolising my mind.

Now, I can't wait for school to finish every day.

And: no judgements now about my cougar mum from this satisfied lass.