MY FRIEND'S MOM - MRS. SINGER

Introduction.

Tommy has been my best friend all though high school and we've become practically inseparable over time. We share lots of interests, which mostly include playing video games, and because he has the best system I'd usually find myself spending my evenings after school over at his place.

Sometimes it feels like I'm always there, but his Mom doesn't seem to mind. I don't see much of Tommy's Dad and I'd been wondering if their marriage isn't going so well. Tommy is in his own world of video games and Dungeons & Dragons and seems oblivious to everything else, but I sense something isn't right at home. He also doesn't seem too interested in girls and hasn't noticed that I have a massive thing for his Mom.

I don't know exactly how old Mrs. Singer is, but she's a lot older than me, obviously. Her first name is Laura, though I always call her Mrs. Singer. I just turn 18, so I'm guessing that makes her about 40 years old or maybe a little more. She's an incredibly alluring and beautiful woman and I am absolutely crazy about her. Yes, I want to fuck her and kiss her all over, but I'm just a virgin schoolboy and wouldn't even be sure I'd know what to do with her, if I'm honest.

Mrs. Singer is a fairly tall woman with long brown hair, pale skin and a slender body, but I think it's her pretty face that makes me adore her so much. She has lovely eyes and a sexy smile, though of course it's her tits and ass that drive me crazy. She dresses well and often wears alluring outfits which draw me in. And then there's the lovely piano playing, her painting and the meals she makes which are so much better than the ones I get at home. I wish I lived at their place.

Part 1.

As I so often do, I come back to the Singer household after school to hang out with Tommy. I'm always on the lookout for his Mom though, of course. I walk down the hallway and see her in her room. She's wearing a business suit and is reading a newspaper on her bed. She sees me. "Hello Nick how are you?" she says.

"Oh...hey...um..." Unfortunately, my tongue gets tied whenever I talk to her when we're alone. I get nervous. She has a very confident, strong personality and she just makes me crumble.

She smiles at me. "I'm just getting home. I'm so tired," she says, putting her feet up. I'm sure she didn't do it on purpose, but I find this highly erotic. She pulls off her shoes and I feel a tingle in my cock. I start to sweat and feel some panic.

"Mrs...I...er...gotta go...I..."

Again, she just smiles as if she recognizes that she's making me nervous. She has a habit of smiling to herself and I've picked up on this over time. I start to walk away, feeling like an idiot. "Nick?" she calls after me. I poke my head around the door. "Are you staying for dinner?" I just nod, because I know if I try to say anything it will just come out badly. "Great," she goes on. "Give me a little bit. I need to shower."

I close my eyes and picture her in the shower. Did she say that on purpose because she's noticed that I'm always looking at her and paying her attention? I've known her for years now, so I imagine that she's picked up on my schoolboy crush, but maybe I'm just paranoid. I begin to feel sick. I just say "OK," and run off back to Tommy's room.

As usual, Tommy's Dad isn't home for dinner. Conversation is lively with Mrs. Singer tolerating our nerdy talk of Sci-fi and D&D. I begin to feel like I may be growing out of all that, but Tommy certainly isn't. Despite being a bit of a dork, I'm also fairly athletic and the fact that I have a decent physique makes me feel good around her. Still, I wonder if she is judging me, thinking I'm a loser, but is just too kind to show it. I ask her where Mr. Singer is and she rolls her eyes.

"Oh, he's working late...again," she replies. All is definitely not well with them and I'm ashamed to say that makes me feel better, I can't help it. I try to steer the conversation to more adult things, like her job, college prospects, books and travel ideas in an attempt to impress her. It seems to work because she looks me in the eye as we speak and ignores her son when he interrupts our talk. She gives me a sweet smile and taps me on the hand.

"OK, boys. I'm gonna clear away and then do my exercises. You two go off and do your homework."

I'm sure she didn't mean this as an overture, but when Tommy runs off to his room, I decide to talk her. "You look like you're in good shape, Mrs. Singer. Do you...um...exercise...I mean..." Ugh. I had felt confident at first, then it went to hell. She just smiles at me in her usual way that turns me to butter.

"I need to stay trim, Nick," she replies. She makes a little gesture to make herself look thinner and puts her hands on her hips. I'm sure she doesn't mean it to be hot, but it is and I go hard and then start to sweat again. I need to get a hold of myself so I change the subject. I want to impress her, to not just be some jerk kid in her eyes.

"Can I help with the dishes?" I say and start bringing them from the living room into the kitchen, not waiting for her response. Instead of having her tell me no, I just go on and then return to our earlier conversation. "I think you look pretty trim already, Mrs. Singer," I say, my confidence returning.

She stops in her tracks and looks at me. "Really? You think so?" I nod and smile, and she smiles back. I can't believe her reaction. Maybe no one has paid her a compliment in so long, that she is genuinely taken aback, though it isn't much of a compliment really. I want to tell her how beautiful she is but stop myself. I continue to help her, loading the dishwasher and then doing a few by hand. "Thank you so much, Nick. You're very sweet," she tells me. I love it when she gives me attention that way.

I turn bright red. Then, I turn from the sink and nearly bump into her. There is an awkward moment when we nearly collide then try to go around each other, but both move the same way. We both laugh and it feels wonderful and liberating. I'm about half a foot taller than her and she looks up at me with big, brown eyes. It also feels wonderful to dominate her physically that way, because it makes me feel like I could be attractive to her.

My heart quickens and I enter into tongue-tied mode again. She smiles slightly awkwardly and walks around me as I'm frozen to the spot. I begin to wonder if she had thanked me for helping her or for the compliment and want to ask her, but I don't. I don't want to bother her or just turn into an inarticulate fool again, so I finish the dishes and go to hang out with Tommy for the rest of the night.

Part 2.

Mrs. Singer owns an art gallery downtown. From what I can gather, that's her passion and her living. She is an art major and in my limited experience I think she's a pretty good painter. There's even one she has done of herself in the nude that's hanging in her private study. Maybe it wasn't intended for anyone else's eyes, but I'd seen it and found it highly erotic. I have even taken a book out of the library on art history to try to appreciate it further and be able to converse on the subject. I want her to know I'm not just some video game playing dork loser.

After school a few days later, Tommy and I come home. Mrs. Singer is in the living room and she is all dressed up, looking fine. She has a short pink dress on, heels and is made up. Her hair looks ravishing and she is wearing earrings. Tommy runs to his room as usual, which gives me the opportunity to talk to her. I never pass on these opportunities if I can help it.

"Hi Mrs. Singer. You going out?" I ask her.

"Yup!" she replies in a cute way, batting her eyelashes playfully.

"I was going to say!" I blurt out foolishly.

"What were you going to say, Nick?"

"Oh, well, nothing, I..."

"Tell me, please. What?"

I get nervous again. I have dug myself into a hole here. "Well, I...er...figured...um...you were going out because...you...um...look very...er..." I stand there, blushing and fidgeting. I feel like an idiot and I'm sure I sound like one too. She does her customary smile to herself and now I think she knows that I have a crush on her.

"Very what, Nick? You don't normally have difficulty saying what you want to say," she says, although I wonder if she is joking.

"Well, I guess you're making me nervous, Mrs. Singer."

"Why would I make you nervous, Nick? I see you all the time."

"I know, but..."

"OK, well, you're being shy. Now, tell me. I look very...?" she says assertively. She is always so confident and in control. It is one of the things that makes me so crazy about her.

"Mrs. Singer, please." She just looks at me, puts her hands on her hips and makes a face. Fine. I'll tell her. "You look very pretty." There, I said it. Her reaction seems positive and the knot in my stomach loosens up.

"Really, Nick? You think so? That's so sweet. You're a nice boy," she says and squeezes my shoulder. It's hardly a loving gesture but it's something and it sends a shiver down my spine. "OK, well, I've gotta run. There's dinner in the oven for you kids. See you later!" With that, she runs out the door. I'm pleased that she liked my compliment but it bums me out that she called me a kid and that she is obviously going on a date. Is she seeing her husband or someone else?

I don't see her until the next weekend when I'm staying the night over at their house. I walk into the kitchen while she's making tea. I stupidly ask her what she is doing. "Making tea, Nick. You want some? I've only got weird herbal stuff though." I don't want any of her weird herbal tea but I do want to hang out with her so I accept with thanks.

I feel the overwhelming urge to pay her a compliment because she is looking so good. She has tight jeans on and this loose fitting top that reveals her back. I want to touch her skin. I feel that usual tingling in my cock that I so often feel around her. I blurt out some incoherent line about her shoes looking good or something.

"Am I making you nervous again, Nick?" she asks me, seemingly well aware of the fact that she is. There's that little smile again.

"I, er...you..." I look at the floor.

"What, Nick? Is there a problem with me? Do you not like me?" she says, with apparent sincerity. I feel overwhelmed and just open my mouth and it all comes out in a tumble.

"Oh, no! What? I do, no. Yes, I...I really do...er..." I'm really in a mess now. She puts her hand up and smiles, probably to put me out of my misery. "Mrs. Singer. I...I think you're awesome," I manage to say, though in a mumble.

"Oh, Nick, you really are so sweet. I like you too. And you don't need to be so nervous around me, OK?" she says while pouring out the tea. She hands me a cup. "I'm glad you like me," she then tells me, glides over to the couch and sits down with a newspaper. Even the way she sits is magnetic.

Part 3.

A few days later, I unexpectedly bump into Mrs. Singer at the dentist. She is sitting in the waiting area and even though I see her immediately, I wait and see if she wants to talk to me, before I say hi. I kind of loiter around the reception desk to see if she notices me and thankfully, she does. "Nick?" I hear her voice. Not only does she notice me and say hello, I'm also picking up on some pretty flirty body language from her, quite different than when we're at her house.

"Hello, Mrs, Singer. How are you?" I say and give her a big smile.

"Oh, you know," she says, putting her hair up in a wonderfully sexy way, "nobody likes the dentist, Nick," she laughs.

"I suppose not, but, well, you know...um..."

"Being shy again, Nick? Why is it you can't form sentences around me, but I hear you talking non-stop with Tommy?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I...you...um..." Mrs. Singer smiles, leans forward and pushes her tits together. She's giving some intense body language from where I'm standing. She is probably picking up on the fact that I like her, and maybe wants to tease me, or maybe she just enjoys the attention I give her. But, it makes me completely unable to speak. She is so incredible.

"I, what, Nick?" She looks so hot, so gorgeous, it is impossible to try and be cool or smooth with her. I'm just an idiot boy compared to this sophisticated woman.

"You, er..."

Just then, a dental assistant comes out and calls out "Laura?" I breathe a sigh of relief and wipe my brow in a gesture of escape. Mrs. Singer giggles at me.

"OK, Nick. You're very funny. I'll see you over at the house soon I hope." She tousles up my hair and walks away. I watch her ass as she walks and get a hard on, which is pretty awkward at the dentist.

Later that night, I see her at their house. She's dressed up and looking good again. "Oh hey, Nick. Long time no see, eh?" She smiles. "You boys out tonight? she asks me. Maybe she's planning on being in and is hoping we'd give her some privacy.

"Oh, I don't know yet. How about you? You look, er..." Oh shit. Here we go again.

"Nick. We've talked about this," she says firmly.

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry. I'm...sorry," I utter pathetically.

"Stop saying you're sorry and just talk to me. Don't be nervous," she says kindly, touching my arm. She is looking me in the eye, then turns away towards a mirror on the wall. Damn, she looks good.

"Well, you look beautiful, Mrs. Singer, so I guess that means you're going out," I say, trying to be confident.

"Nick, did you just check out my ass?" she says, half annoyed, half amused. I'm not sure how she really feels, but I sense she doesn't mind my looking at her so instead of falling apart, I go along with it.

"Yes, absolutely!" I tell her, assertively. It's the truth after all.

"Nicholas! How dare you?!" she says, laughing, though still with a shocked face. She turns back to the mirror and poses. "Well, what do you think?" she asks me. Now it is my turn to be shocked. I just stand there in dumb silence. I'm picking up on strong vibes that she's enjoy this flirty moment with me.

"What do I think of...? I ask her, trying to draw it out.

"You know full well, Nick. Now, you tell me or I'll get angry with you."

"In that case, I definitely won't say!" I'm enjoying this little game too.

"Nicholas!" she exclaims and takes a step closer to me. She holds a finger up and says "You are the most terrible tease! Just tell me, OK?" and pushes her finger into my chest. This is actually getting pretty hot and I start to sweat.

"Fine. You leave me no choice, Mrs. Singer. You have an amazing backside. Now you know." She stands there, maybe unsure how to react. She gives me a quizzical look, then turns away back to the mirror, putting her hair up. Then I see that little smile.

"You can look but you'd better not touch," she mutters and walks out the door.

Part 4.

A week or so later, I'm over again to spend the night. Tommy is still out so I let myself in. It's around 9pm and I find Mrs. Singer there alone. "Oh, hey Nick. How are you feeling?", she asks me when I approach. I stand there dumbfounded for a second or two because she looks sexier than I'd ever seen her before.

She is wearing a slinky black dress with a sheer lacy fabric and a silky undergarment. It is tasteful but revealing and I feel a tremendous urge to reach out and touch her, but restrain myself. "Oh, go ahead, Nick. Tell me how good I look. Go on, check me out," she says cheekily and I just stand there with my mouth open.

"Mrs. Singer, I..."

"Nick, I'm sorry," she say laughing. "I had a drink or two and I'm tipsy. It is very naughty of me to imply that a teenage boy would want to check out my ass," she laughs again and sways a little. She is delightfully drunk.

"Mrs. Singer, what's got into you?" But you're right, you do look..."

"Spectacular? Jaw-droppingly sexy?" she interrupts with giggles.

"Yes, all of the above and more," I say calmly, trying to get her to cool out a little. "Are you going out?"

"No, baby, I've just been out. I'm home now. I'm gonna curl up on the couch and watch a movie. Any ideas?" she says, plopping herself down and spreading out, rather sluttishly.

"Um, how about To Die For? Seen it?" I'm messing with her now, and enjoying it.

"No, what's it about," she looks at me quizzically.

"It's about an older woman who..."

She holds a finger in the air. "OK, Nick, I've heard enough, you bad boy. What about you, you going out? Got a date?" she inquires, rather sleepily.

"Um, actually, I'm not feeling too great," I lie. "I might hang out with you. I mean with Tommy, er..."

Mrs. Singer smiles to herself. I catch it and imagine that it means she likes being in my company, that she finds me entertaining, at least. "You can watch the movie with me if you like. It'll be more fun than watching it alone anyway," she answers and my heart leaps.

So, we watch a movie together. With Tommy as well of course, but I make sure I position myself on the couch next to her. As it goes on, I get drowsy and decide to put my head on her shoulder. Her reaction is warm and motherly. She puts her arm around me and I drift off with my head on her bosom, her soft, tender flesh just a thin piece of fabric away. I'm "asleep", right, So what is the harm? I put my arm around her tummy and am in heaven as I touch her. I don't think she minds.

Sleeping over that night, I jerk off thinking about her as usual, but this time my fantasies are fueled by the feeling of actually having my hands on her body. I want more. So, the next morning I wake up and stroll into the kitchen and find her there. She is in her silky pink robe and looks amazing. I make a big yawn to get her attention and she looks up. "Hey Nick, sweetie. Did you sleep well? You were such a sleepy boy last night and such a big baby."

I pretend not to know what she is talking about, but inwardly, my heart is racing. It did not escape my attention that she had called me "sweetie." "What do you mean, Mrs. Singer?" I say, feeling more comfortable around her now.

"Don't you remember, Nick? You were very sleepy and cuddly."

"Mrs. Singer, I'm sorry if I..."

"It's fine, Nick. I liked it. It's nice to be wanted."

"Well, I definitely want you...I mean, I...yeah." She does that subtle smile to herself and I imagine that it's because she thinks I'm cute. At least that's what I hope it is. It must be obvious to her now that I have a crush on her and I feel like she doesn't mind and maybe even likes that I do.

"Want me, Nick? Whatever do you mean?" She is torturing me. I decide to ignore her and go in for a morning hug. She is facing away from me doing some dishes, so I put my arms around her waist from behind, then my head on her shoulder. I know it's pretty forward, but I act all sleepy so maybe I'll get away with it. I feel her breasts against my arm and involuntarily become hard. I don't quite realize at first but she apparently notices, wriggles a little and giggles.

"Oh, Nick, thank you. You really are a softie. Well, not exactly," she says and laughs out loud. Her reference to my erection is apparently delightful to her as she continues smiling but I am mortified. I pull away and catch her as she looks down at the large lump in my briefs before turning back to finish the dishes, her face pulled in an attempt to hold in more laughter. "Now, You sit down and I'll make you some eggs. Bad boy," she says.

Later that day, after Tommy and I were finished with a school project, I want to see if I could find his Mom and pass by her room. She calls me in. "Hey Nick, I'm going out. Do I look OK?" she asks. She is in a petite business-style suit-dress which is smoking hot, and a part of her brassiere is revealed. I just stand there like a moron. "Don't leave me hanging, sweetie. You're always so good at telling me I look good and it boosts my confidence. I have to go out now and play at being businesswoman."She called me "sweetie" again. My heart is racing but I keep it together. "Well, I would say you look...stunning. But maybe too stunning?" I say, in reference to her visible bra. She looks happy, then coyly asks what I meant. "Well, Mrs. Singer, I can see your brassiere. Is that what you want?"

"Is it too much?"

"Well, what do you want to achieve today?" I'm trying to be grown up and helpful.

"I want to close a deal at my gallery."

"So the goal is not to have some man drool over you?"

"They might, and as long as that gets me what I want, I'm OK with that." I'm kinda shocked and tell her so. "Does that make me sound like a manipulative bitch, Nick?"

Yes it did. "Well, I don't know. What do I know?" I reply and look away.

"Not everyone can be so pure of heart and noble as you, Nicholas," she says, sounding slightly irritated. I notice that she switches from calling me Nick to Nicholas when she is trying to be stern or serious. "But you're right. I'll change. I can do this without being a total slut," she says and we both laugh. "But I'm glad you liked it, Nick," she says more quietly and smiles sexily. She looks down and again, seems to notice that I have a lump in my pants.

Horrified, I run off. "Good luck!" I yell on the way out.

Part 5.

For the next weekend, Tommy had invited me to come away with them to the beach and of course I said yes. So there I am, hanging around with Tommy and his parents, and Mrs. Singer is on full parade. Tommy is playing his game boy most of the time, and his Dad is asleep or has his head in the newspaper and it feels, awkwardly, like it's just Mrs. Singer and I. It's weird having Tommy's Dad around, but he's pretty distant.

She spends a lot of the day walking on the sand, swimming, sunbathing and seems to revel in being beautiful. Of course, I can't help but stare the entire time and she can't help but notice that. She stretches herself out, then takes a sidelong glance in my direction and when she sees me looking at her, clearly intoxicated, gives me a little smile.

Later on back at the house, she has dolled herself up for dinner out and pulls me aside. "Nick, listen. Thank you for noticing me today. My husband clearly doesn't care anymore and it's nice to have someone appreciate me." I'm embarrassed, having been caught ogling her but it feels amazing to have this intimate moment with a genuine connection.

"Well, Mrs. Singer, I'm sorry that I was looking, but..." She puts her hand on my chest.

"Nick sweetie, I liked it, OK? You made me feel...like a woman." Jesus. She is a woman. All woman.

"May I say, Mrs. Singer..."

"Nick, please speak freely, tell me."

"You are a very sexy woman. You looked incredible today. And you look incredible now." I'm getting aroused by this close contact.

"Oh, Nick, you are such a darling boy. Ugh, I remember when my husband used to think that and say those things. Oh well, his loss I suppose. At least I have you to check me out," she says, laughing, but I feel kinda awkward. "Are you coming out to dinner with us, Nick? Please. I need the company." Who could say no to that?

After dinner, everyone else has gone to their rooms and Mrs. Singer is playing the piano, as she so often did. She is very good and I walk over to be with her. "Mozart, Mrs. Singer?"

No, Nick. Beethoven. You should know that," she says without looking up.

"You're very good. Maybe you could teach me about classical music," I say, fishing.

"Can you play the piano?" She looks up.

"No, but I'd like to learn. I can play some guitar though. Could you teach me?" Any excuse to spend time with her, but actually, I'm sincere.

"Sure Nick, I would love to give you some tips."

"Tits, Mrs. Singer?" I say cheekily.

"Nicholas! You bad boy! You know full well I said tips! How dare you?!" she says, but as usual can't stop herself from laughing, while pretending to be angry.

"Oh, that's too bad. I love your tits. I mean tips. I'll take what I can get." I don't know what has gotten into me. She makes a mock shocked face and tells me to sit by her, apparently not phased by my forward manner. I sit down and our thighs touch. A little electricity passes between us and my heart starts beating faster. She takes my hands and places them on the keys. My elbow brushes against her breast and we both notice. She smiles. I'm in heaven, to be so close to her physically but also sharing something so nice.

"You're a sweet, sensitive boy, Nick. It's always lovely to have you around the house," she tells me.

I look at her and say, "I like being here." She shows me a few chords and how to play something simple. Just like my attempt to improve my knowledge of art, I decide to endeavor to improve my musical knowledge as well.

It isn't long before I'm over again and see her. She is in the living room wearing a tiny red dress and she looks very sexy. I stand watching her at a small distance for a minute or two, admiring her femininity and the lovely way she is sitting. I cough and she repositions herself to fully display what I believe to be her greatest asset, her behind. I walk in and she pretends to notice me for the first time.

"Dang, Mrs. Singer, you look smoking!" I say, feeling bold.

"Nicholas! You can't talk to me that way! I'm twice your age," she exclaims in mock offense, all the while curving her body to accentuate her charms. Is she showing off for me? I pick up the conversation.

"Well, you do. That's a great dress and you wear it well. You look very hot," I tell her.

"Yes, I do, Nick. You're right. I do look smoking hot and any man should want to have me, don't you think?" Apparently, Mrs. Singer is feeling neglected and desires attention from a very attentive young man, me.

"Want to have you, Mrs. Singer? What do you mean?" I want to see where this is going. She makes a face and is obviously irritated, presumably by her husband and has decided to take out her frustrations by flirting shamelessly. I don't mind being used this way.

"I mean," she says, looking deep in my eyes, "Make love to me, Nick. I mean, I'm hot and any man should want to make love to me, don't you think?" I hadn't expected this bluntness from her. Is it going to happen? Is she going to seduce me right here and now? I instantly get a hard-on and naturally, she notices.

She goes on. "Nick, I'm sorry, this isn't fair for you. You're such a sweet boy. I'm just in a mood." She gets up, walks over to me and puts her arms around my neck. My heart races. Her breath smells of wine. I put my hands on her waist and our bodies collide. She cuddles in close, caressing my hair, while I stroke her neck and back. Her tits are pressed up against me and I'm certain she could feel how hard my cock is.

I move in for a kiss but she puts her fingers up to my lips. "No Nick, no. I'm sorry, baby. I'm not feeling well," she says, pushing me away. "Good night, Nick. I'm sorry," she mutters and walks away. I feel a mixture of euphoria, worry and shame, though the physical sensation of having her body against me was wonderful. I feel bad for her, she is clearly in a bad state.

The next morning, I get up late and go downstairs. Tommy is gone for the day, so I'm hoping to stay and hang out with his Mom for a while. I see her in the front room, dressed in work-out clothes, holding a basketball. She sees me and instantly apologizes. "Nick, listen. I'm so sorry about last night. I had too much to drink, I was upset and I...I shouldn't have, y'know."

"Mrs. Singer, it's fine."

"No, it's not fine. Did I hurt your feelings, Nick?" I'm wondering if she wants my feelings to be hurt, to show that I care.

"Actually, yeah, a little bit. But I'm sorry I tried to...er..." I was referring to my attempt at kissing her.

"Maybe we should just forget it, Nick, yeah?"

"Sure, Mrs. Singer. Say, are you gonna shoot some hoops?"

"I just got back actually. I'm not bad!" she says cheerfully.

"I bet I can take that ball off you pretty easy, Mrs. Singer" I'm feeling turned on by her again and she is throwing some body language my way, so I figure I'd try and have some fun with her. She smiles at me cheekily.

"Bet you can't. You can try though," she says, putting the ball above her head, stretching out her body.

"Alright, what do I win if I do?"

"Um...what do you want to win?"

"Mrs. Singer, you shouldn't even have to ask that."

"Nicholas! You're outrageous. What are you implying?"

"Oh, nothing. I'll take a nice long cuddle during a movie, Mrs. Singer."

"You already had that, Nick. You really enjoyed cuddling with me?"

"Yes, I did. I really did," I say with a smile. She smiles back.

"Fine, and if you lose...um...I get a foot massage, OK?"

"From me?"

"Yes, Nick. You give me a foot massage."

"Hmmm...I think I want to loose now."

"Haha, Nicholas! You crack me up, sweetheart!" I flush bright red. She called me sweetheart. My heart skips a beat and I inhale deeply.

"OK, here we go, Mrs. Singer...but I tell you what," I say, as I get into wrestling position "I'll give you a foot massage win or lose, if that's what you want." She smiles at me in her irresistible way, trying to keep the ball out of my reach. I grab her around the waist and pull her towards me, our bodies pressing together and intertwining. The ball falls on the floor and rolls away.

She dives for it, crawling on all fours. I rush after her, turn her over and end up on top of her, her arms and legs curled around me. We stay like that for some blissful, awkward seconds, our eyes locked, our hearts pumping. She shakes her head at me as if to say "I want you, but I can't have you," and sighs heavily.

"Want me to get off, Mrs. Singer?" I whisper.

"No. Yeah. I don't know. Yeah, You'd better get off," she says with uncertainty.

"Push me off, Mrs. Singer," I reply with a cheeky smile.

She bites her lip and whispers "You're far too big for me to handle, Nick baby." It is by far the most flirtatious thing she has ever said to me and I go hard, my cock pressing against her shorts.

"Maybe we should find out some day," I reply. She does that mock offense thing she always does when our talk gets lewd, then wriggles her body around under me. She makes a little gesture with her head and I slide off her. Then, I grab the ball. "OK, Mrs. Singer. You go and pick out a movie."

"OK, Nick. I'll shower first. And don't forget, you promised me a foot massage."

"Mrs. Singer, would I forget that?" She smiles at me knowingly then skips off. A little later, she comes out in a cute little black dress, nice and tight around the waist. It isn't overtly slutty, but there is some inviting cleavage and it certainly does the trick with turning me on.

"Did you pick out a movie, Mrs. Singer?"

"Yup. It's kind of a chick flick, hope that's OK. Everyone else is out, so I don't have to worry about them only liking action movies," she says with a laugh. She is getting more and more natural with me.

"Oh, fine. I don't care what we watch. I just like being...well...er...here." She smiles sweetly.

After a pause, she says to me, "You know that my name is Laura, right?"

"Yes, Mrs. Singer, I know that."

"Fine, have it your way." She sits down on the couch and starts the movie. She puts her legs across my lap and I instantly get an erection. I feel flustered.

"Want me to make some popcorn, Mrs. Singer?"

"Shut up and rub my feet, Nick honey," she says luxuriously. I'm in heaven. I rub her feet for a while, taking care to play with her toes. She giggles, and then sometimes makes little noises that make it sound as if she is getting aroused. I then move on to her her ankles, calves, then thighs. She makes a little groaning noise and spreads her legs as if to say it is OK to continue.

No, I don't start playing with her pussy or her ass, though of course I want to. Does she want me to? I can't tell. I massage her thighs for a good while, however, which is one of the most beautiful physical sensations of my life so far. "I think I got the best end of this bet, Mrs. Singer," I tell her.

"Oh, I don't know, Nick, it feels great. You have lovely hands. You've turn me to jelly. If you want to stop, we can cuddle up." I'm kinda torn. I don't want to stop touching her, but the promise of a cuddle is irresistible. "Lay behind me, honey, and hold me. I'm feeling sensitive and need to be held," she asks. It is obvious that she is lonely, so I happily oblige. I hold her around the waist, with my arms held close to her breasts.

I'm not touching them with my hand, but can feel them against my forearm and I know she can feel me. Naturally, I'm still hard as a rock, which I don't try to hide. I am freely pushing against her lovely ass and I'm pretty sure that she pushes herself out and wriggles against me a few times. I nearly ask her if we could make love, but I'm too scared to. I figure if she really wants to, she would just make it happen. No, despite this being a wonderful and memorable day, it ends with me going home and jerking off to pictures of Mrs. Singer I found on Facebook as usual.

Part 6.

I don't go over to the Singer house for a while. I start having mixed feelings about this situation, wondering whether I am actually falling in love with her. I like flirting and want to be with her, but I don't like having this tense feeling in my stomach all the time. So, while trying to rid myself of unwanted feelings, I start really missing her and of course miss hanging out with my friend Tommy. So, after a few weeks, I decide to pay Mrs. Singer a visit at her work to feel out the situation.

She owns this art gallery downtown and I am over near there at the museum for a school project. I walk in and there she is: radiant, womanly, confident, ravishing, stunning. I'm not sure she even recognizes me at first, so I feel pretty shitty.

"Hey Mrs. Singer, I..."

"Nick! Nick!! How have you been? Oh, I missed you! Where have you been?" she interrupts. She totters over to me and gives me a giant hug. I wasn't expecting this warm reception, but it is wonderful, especially the feeling of her breasts against me again. "I was afraid that maybe you and Tommy has fallen out or maybe I had upset you or something. Or maybe you found a girlfriend?"

"There is someone I like, Mrs. Singer."

"Oh, I see, Nick. Well, good for you. I'm glad. You're a lovely, handsome boy, and you deserve a girlfriend," she says and squeezes my arm tenderly.

"Oh, well, no, it's not like that, I..."

"Nick, won't you come over this weekend and have dinner with us? I'll make your favorite. Hmm?" she suggests.

"Yeah, OK, sure," I say, trying to mask my joy.

"OK, great. I need to get back to work now, OK, but I'll see you Saturday. I...I mean we, we'll be home all afternoon, so come whenever." I agree, then leave, with a leap in my step.

So, I go over Saturday afternoon. I'm pretty excited. Tommy has a new video game and of course there is the amazing, irresistible Mrs. Singer. As soon as I get there, I see her. She's standing on a stool in the living room.

"Mrs. Singer, hi..."

"Oh hey Nick, can you help me? I need to change this lightbulb, but this little step stool is kinda wobbly."

"Sure thing, Mrs. Singer, why don't I just change it for you?"

"No, I've got it. Just hold on to me so I don't fall." I think she wants me to hold on to her.

"It'll be my pleasure, Mrs. Singer."

"Oh, Nick, stop teasing me. You always do that. I'm a married woman, you know!"

"I know that, you're also a beautiful woman."

"Oh come now, Nick. Anyway, go ahead and hold on to me so I don't fall off.."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for me to hold the stool?" I say, teasingly.

"Hmmm, no Nick. Hold me around the waist please." I go up to her and hold her, taking as many liberties as I can to touch her legs, gorgeous ass and slim waist. I don't dare to get a feel of her tits, though I do place my hand at the very top of her pussy area, and I hear her let out a big sigh when I do.

"This is a bit tricky Nick, it's taking a minute," she says and I almost believe her.

"Oh I don't mind, I'm enjoy this."

"Really, Nick? You like touching me? Getting a good feel up?" she says, pretending to be annoyed.

"You know it. Anyway, you didn't seem to mind when I gave you that massage, Mrs. Singer."

"Shhh Nicholas! Someone will hear! That's just between you and I, OK?" She continues figuring out the lightbulb and I make little circles on her tummy with my finger. "Got a nice view there, Nick?" she asks me.

"The best, Mrs. Singer. You know I love checking out your ass." She lets out a healthy laugh. Apparently we'd come to the point where I could say things like that without being told off.

"Alrighty, Nick. All done, thanks. Let me down, baby." She plops down into my arms, and I'm not going to let go too quickly. I want to feel her body against mine and for her to know what a hard dick I have. "Well, Nick, I can tell that you enjoyed that," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "Next time I need help with anything, I'll be sure to let you know."

I let go of her and watch her as she walks away. Just as she's leaving the room, she turns her head to me and smiles. I'm feeling bold so follow her into the kitchen. "Is there anything special you want to eat?" she asks me. I thought I'd be cheeky seeing as she had let me be so flirtatious just now. I stand next to her and look her in the eye.

"I can think of one thing I'd really like to eat, Mrs. Singer," I whisper. She looks at me with a slight frown.

"Whatever do you mean, Nick?"

"I think you know what I mean, Mrs. Singer."

"Nick, if you're saying what I think you're saying, then I swear I'll slap you."

"You promise, Mrs. Singer?"

"Nicholas! I swear, you're so impossible. Ugh. Are you really suggesting..."

"That what I want to eat most of all is your pussy, Mrs. Singer?" I interrupt her. she stands there with her mouth open and her hands on her hips. I'd never actually eaten pussy before, but have watched a few porn films so have some idea about it. I know that I want to.

"Nicholas! Oh. My. God. What on earth would possess you to even think such a thing, let alone actually say it out loud?" She says, and this time seemed genuinely perturbed.

"Where's that slap you promised?" I say and move closer to her. Mrs. Singer can't figure out if she wants to be mad or amused.

"I will slap you, Nicholas," she says in a low voice.

"Go on then, Mrs. Singer. I was pretty rude, wasn't I?"

She just shakes her fist at me and says "urrrgggg!" Then, hiding a smile, continues cooking. I ask her what's for dinner. "There'll be no pussy for you, bad boy. It's pizza, OK?" she says with an unmistakable hint of amusement in her voice. I'd pushed it with her and even though she had pushed back, it was worth it. Our mutual attraction is out in the open more than ever.

Part 7.

Over the weekend, I stop by the local public swimming pool hoping to see Mrs. Singer there and I'm not disappointed. Fortunately, neither her husband nor Tommy is there either, so I'm able spend some nice quality time with her.

"Hi Nick, how are you?" she says as she sees me approaching. She's lying on a beach bed in a secluded spot.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Singer. What are you doing here?" She ignores my dumb question.

"You know, Nick, I'm still kinda mad at you for being rude the other day."

"Rude, Mrs. Singer?"

"Well, not rude. You were impertinent. You're a very well spoken and polite young man, which is part of the reason why I like you, but you did step over the line with me."

"Oh, you mean, because I say I wanted..."

"Yes, Nick. Let's not talk about it, but you really shouldn't say things like that to me, OK?" she cut me off.

"I promise I won't, I'm sorry. But now you know."

"Know?"

"Yes, Mrs. Singer. Now you know what...er...how I...never mind." She smiles that little smile. Despite what she says, she now knows I want her and she seems to likes it.

"Pull up a seat, Nick. Did you bring something to read? I always see you with a book." it's true. I like reading, but I also want to appear smart and grown up around Mrs. Singer, who has lots of books and is obviously very well read.

"Yes, I always carry around a book. You don't need a wi-fi signal." She laughs .

"Nick, you're great, I mean..." Now it is Mrs. Singer's turn to feel awkward. "Can you do me a favor?" she goes on.

"Of course, Mrs. Singer. Anything for you." I smile and she smiles back in a sexy, knowing way.

"Can you rub this sun block on my back?" Wow. Yes. I would.

"Are you sure that's something you want me to do, after I said that terrible, awful thing to you?"

"Oh Nick, don't be silly. It wasn't that bad and anyway...you make me feel...good. You make me feel young."

"You are young, Mrs. Singer," I tell her.

"It would make me feel younger if you called me Laura."

"Yes, Mrs. Singer. Now pass me the bottle." She makes a funny face and passes me the sun block. I rub it into her back, shoulders and neck. She is divine. I move very slowly and make it as sensual and drawn-out an experience as possible.

I touch the top of her ass and down the sides of her back, close to her breasts. I'm an inch away from touching her in the most intimate spots. "Mmmmm...Nick. You really do know how to use your hands," she says softly.

"Want me to do your legs, Mrs. Singer?" I'm praying she'll say yes.

"Yes, why not, thank you." I take my time and massage the lotion deep into her skin. Her inner thighs need extra attention and again, I'm an inch away from her most tender female areas. She spreads her legs a little to accommodate my fingers and I linger there in that magical spot. "I think you got it, Nick", she says after a few minutes. "Not that I wasn't enjoying that," she adds

She looks over, sees my hard on and then looks me in the eye. "And you were too, I can see," she adds. I'm on fire with lust for her.

"Anywhere else, Mrs. Singer? Tummy? Tits?" Mrs. Singer makes a face to keep in a laugh.

"Would you really put oil on my tits right here at the public pool if I said OK, Nick?"

"It would be terribly wrong, wouldn't it?" I say. She looks at me and lets out a sigh.

"OK, Nick, thank you. I can take over from here. You read your book now," she says sweetly, then puts on a show for me, rubbing more sunscreen into her places I dared not go. She looks me in the eye and massages the oil into her chest, under her bikini top. She's ravishing and my heart races. I don't get much reading done.

Part 8.

It isn't long before I am over at their place again. Naturally, I make a point of walking by Tommy's parents room in hope of seeing his Mom. Tonight, she looks all dressed up to go out on the town. She sees me standing in the corridor and calls me in. "Oh, Nick. Could you come in here, please?"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Singer, got another lightbulb to change?" She giggles at my question.

"No, silly. Could you help me with the ties on my dress?" My heart leaps.

"Sure, Mrs Singer. Is it going on or coming off?"

"Oh Nicholas! You're so bad. It needs to be tied."

"That's a shame, Mrs. Singer."

"Oh Nick, stop teasing me! Just come over here and help me."

I walk over and help her tie the ties on her dress. My fingers touch her skin and she feels warm and soft. I can hear her sigh as I touch her. Her breathing has quickened and I feel her magnetic pull. Her ass brushes against my hard dick and we stand there for a moment caught in each others pull, until she gets embarrassed, blushes and I put my hands on her waist. She's so beautiful.

"There you go, Mrs. Singer, you look beautiful, I whisper in her ear."

"Oh, thank you sweetie, you're adorable. Maybe later you could help me, I mean..." She is getting flustered.

"Untie your dress, Mrs. Singer?"

"Well, I didn't mean...I...OK, Nicholas. I'll see you later sweetie. Thank you," she says hurriedly and leaves. I'm left standing in her room in a daze. I go to hang out with Tommy and we continue on our mythical Dragon quest for the rest of the evening. It's fun and pretty distracting, but my mind is on his Mother.

Later that night, I hear her come home. I make excuses to Tommy because I can't resist walking by her room. As it always seems to be, her door is open. "Hiiii Nick baby!" I hear her call. She's obviously been drinking again.

"Where's Mr. Singer?" I ask. She pulls a face like she's just tasted sour milk.

"Ugh. Fuck him!" She raises her voice.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Singer. Did it not go well tonight?"

"Oh, it was great, I had a work dinner, but Mr. fucking Singer the asshole stood me up. I think he might be fucking some other woman. Ha! I should fuck some other man just to spite him. I've thought about it!" I stand there in shocked silence. Is she referring to me?

"Want me to help you with your dress straps again, Mrs. Singer?"

"Now, now, Nicholas. I might be angry with my pencil dick husband, but that doesn't mean I'm just gonna spread my legs for the first gorgeous boy I see and let him fuck me."

"Mrs. Singer, I...I..." I didn't know what to say, but apparently she thinks I'm gorgeous.

"I will take another of your wonderful foot massages, though, Nick honey," she slurrs.

Of course, I'm happy to give her whatever she wants as I cherish these moments together even if she isn't at her best. She lays down in a delicious supine pose, her legs spread like some kind of hooker from paradise. I unbuckle her shoes gently and play with her toes. She laughs hysterically and says "Don't tickle me you bad boy!".

I give her a loving foot, ankle, calf and thigh massage, and however much she seems to enjoy it, with her little "Yes, Nick honey, right there," interjections and groans of pleasure, I'm sure I'm enjoyed it more. I'm hard as a rock.

"Do you want me to massage your shoulders and back, Mrs. Singer?"

"Oh yes, Nick. Why don't you untie my dress now and slip it off for me?" she says in a low voice.

I can't believe this is happening. I don't think I have ever been so excited in my life, but I stay cool. As I pull on her strings and let the dress fall from her shoulders, the front door slams. She stands up as if stung by a bee, holding onto her dress.

"Ugh! Fuck! Fuuuuck!! It's that pencil dick asshole. He's always ruins everything. Nicholas, get the fuck out." I get the fuck out. Going back to hang with Tommy, I feel the usual mixture of euphoria and nausea associated with an encounter with Mrs. Singer.

Later that night, after overhearing a pretty violent argument between Tommy's parents, I'm still lying in the guest room where I seem to spend half my life. I hear her voice, seemingly outside my door. "I'm going to take a shower now," she calls out and I wonder if she's secretly sending me a message.

I can't resist and tiptoe down the corridor. I see the door to the bathroom is slightly open and from around the corner, I spy her. Nude. Posing. Looking like a total goddess. She's the first grown woman I have seen completely nude and I'm not disappointed. I hide from view, taking her in.

I see her wonderful ass and her long, luxurious legs. She has her back to me but I can see her tits in the mirror. She stretches out and I instinctively reach for my dick and start touching myself. She spreads her legs a little, but I can't quite see her bush. She's divine. I don't know if she knows I'm there and if she wants me to come in or if this is some kind of make-up sex game between her and Tommy's Dad.

After a minute or so, I hear a noise down the hall and afraid I'm going to get caught, scuttle off. I hear the bathroom door close and the shower start. I go to bed and jerk off, my head filled with glorious visions. Did she know I'd seen her? Had she done all that on purpose?

The next morning I go downstairs and have breakfast with Tommy. We're hanging out, playing video games when I see his Mom in the kitchen. I put down the game console and walk over. "Hey..." I begin to say.

"Nick, that was for you," she interrupts. I'm a little taken aback.

"For me? What?"

"I gave you a little gift last night. I hope you enjoyed it." I think I understand what she means.

"Oh. Mrs...".

She cut in again. "Nick, You were very sweet to me and made me feel so wonderful and I was rude. I'm very sorry. I wanted to make it up to you somehow, and well, you deserved it." I start to speak but she puts a finger on my lips. "Nick, it's OK. You don't have to say anything. You have been such a kind, lovely boy and, well...I like the attention. So, let's not talk about it again, but, just let me say, I hope you enjoyed my gift to you. I enjoyed giving it."

I start to speak again but she shhh'es me and runs a finger down my cheek. Maybe we'd said enough just now. "I'm going out. See you soon Nick, sweetie," she tells me, and leaves.

Part 9.

Every day after that I'm gone feel like an eternity, especially after what happened the last time. But I am determined not to get sucked into feelings of love and just try and enjoy this crazy, flirty thing that Mrs. Singer and I have going on. But, a few days later, I'm over there again and as usual it's difficult for me to be rational around her.

"Oh hey, Mrs. Singer. What's up? Need a hand changing a lightbulb or...anything?"

"Haha, no Nick, thanks I got it. I'm heading out. How do I look?"

"Mrs Singer, you know what I think."

"Well, say it Nick, because I need the confidence."

"OK, well, I think you're a bombshell, Mrs. Singer. I think you're an incredible woman. You know that."

"Thanks, Nick. I needed that. You're a very sweet boy. Are you two going to watch a movie tonight while I'm gone? Go ahead and pick one out." I walk around her towards the shelves with the DVDs, and as I do, I let my hand trail across her waist and belly and give her a little loving squeeze. She puts her hand on my hand and we look at each other. We stand in silence for a few moments as I put both my hands on her hips and gently massage, our eyes locked.

She lets out a deep sigh and closes her eyes. Breaking off, she says "OK, Nick. I have to go. You...um, never mind."

"I think we'll watch this one, Mrs. Singer. The Graduate. Have you seen it?" She gives me a look and shakes her head as if to say "Don't be bad."

"Yes I've seen it, Nick. You know I have."

"OK, I'll see you later, Mrs. Singer. And you be safe out there"

"Oh, don't worry, I'm just going out with the girls. Nighty night now." I sense that she made a point of telling me it's a ladies night, and I'm glad she did. I hate having feelings of jealousy over her.

That night, I stay up late with Tommy playing video games as usual. Around midnight, I hear her come home, but I don't know if she knows I'm still there. Her door is ajar and I go on. She's lying on the bed, wearing some spectacular lingerie and looks like she might be sleeping or passed out drunk. She did have the tendency to get tiddly when she went out.

I stand there for a while, checking her out, imagining what it would be like to kiss her all over. She doesn't move and I don't want to disturb her, but I do want to make sure she is alright. I bend down and whisper her name. She doesn't answer but makes some incoherent noise and turns on her side. She is definitely asleep and seems peaceful. Instead of touching her up inappropriately, which is what I want to do, I find a sheet and cover her up. She looks nice and cozy now, so I leave her to sleep.

The next morning, I get up and she is in the living room. I sit down next to her on the couch. "Oh, Hey Nick. You stayed over?"

"Yeah, Mrs. Singer, I think you know I did."

"What do you mean?" She looks genuinely confused.

"Didn't you give me another of your gifts last night?"

"Nicholas...?" she says and gives me a stern look.

"Well, you were lying on your bed in your underwear, Mrs. Singer, and..."

"And, what, Nicholas?" she interrupts me. She is getting mad now.

"And nothing. You were lying there, looking amazing. I figured you knew I was there and wanted me to see."

"Ugh. Why would I want that?" she say dismissively. This makes me feel shitty. "Nick, I'm sorry. I'm just hung over. Tell me what I did last night," she says more sweetly, taking a sip of her coffee.

"You didn't do anything. You were just in your lingerie, lying on the bed and you left the door open."

"OK, Nicholas. So, what did you do? Did we..."

"Mrs. Singer, you were passed out. I just made sure you were OK, put a sheet over you and left you to sleep." Mrs. Singer looks at me and is silent for a while.

"Nick, are you saying that I was lying there nearly nude, passed out and all you did was put a sheet over me to make sure I was alright?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I did kiss you on the forehead and tell you sweet dreams," I tell her without thinking.

"Oh, Nicholas." She looks like she might cry. "That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard. You really are the most lovely boy. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of me and not taking advantage of me." I just nod and smile weakly. She moves up close to me and gives me a long, loving hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispers again. "I'll make you some breakfast," she says and gets up. Wow, being a good, decent, honest person can really pay off sometimes.

Part 10.

Three or four days later, I'm over again after school. I see Mrs. Singer in her study and it looks like she's doing some paper work. She's dressed in a business suit, but it's unbuttoned slightly down the front and from my vantage point, I can see she's got no bra on, her breasts partly revealed. I knock and go in.

"Hi Mrs. Singer."

"Nick, Hi. How are you, honey? Staying for dinner? I just need to finish up here."

"You need help?"

"What with? The accounts?"

"Um, maybe I could help you locate your brassiere?" I say, feeling naughty and aroused after looking at her.

"Nicholas! She yells. "Sometimes you are infuriating. Really! You can be the most cheeky, insolent boy in the world. Huh!"

"Well, sorry, not sorry. It just looks like you lost it. Or maybe you knew I was coming by and so decided to not wear it?" I say, leaning against her desk, looking down her top. Her chest looks sensational. She gives me a stern look but doesn't cover herself up.

"Nicholas! You are outrageous. I..."

"I love it when you call me Nicholas when you pretend to be mad at me." She lets out a deep breath.

"OK, fine. Yes, I knew you were coming, and...well, so...ugh! You're infuriating, Nick," she says, but can't quite manage to be angry.

"Well, you're hot. And I love your titties, you know I do." She makes a shocked face, the usual one, torn between amusement and irritation.

"Nicholas!! Urg, Nick. You have stepped over the line," she says, then bursts out laughing. "Fine. I'm done with this work. I'm going to go and put on my bra because I think I've been ogled enough for one day. Then, I'll make dinner."

She stands up and walks over towards the door. I'm not going to let her get through just yet, so I grab her assertively and pull her towards me. She fights for a second, then goes floppy and gives in. I may be less than half her age, but I'm a pretty big, strong guy. She's in my arms. We lock eyes, and she bites her lip.

"You really do have the loveliest titties, Mrs. Singer," I whisper, staring down at her.

"Yes, I know I do, Nick. And I know you want to touch them. But you're not going to. They belong to Mr. Singer." Sensing my disappointment, she wriggles her body against me, making sure her leg rubs up against my hard cock. "Mmmm, Nick. You make me crazy. Ugh. I'm sorry sweetie. Let me go."

I let her go. She looks at me and very quickly gives me a tiny kiss on the lips. "Now, where'd I put that damn bra," she says as if that little kiss never happened and walks off. I stand there, bright red, with my fingers against my lips. She kissed me. I'm walking on air.

Later that evening, I stroll past her door as I always try to do and there she is, in her bra and panties, getting changed. She looks fantastIc.

"Well, hello Mrs. Singer! It looks like you're...um, getting ready for bed, or something. Can I come in?"

"Nick, really, no. I'm in my underwear. No hugging, now. Keep your distance, please. I'm...ugh. What do you want?"

"Why so unfriendly, Mrs Singer? If you didn't want me to see, why did you leave the door open?"

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, you're right. It's just. Y'know, I'm married and I intend to stay married. You obviously have a crush on me and I think you're cute and I like the attention, but..."

It is the first time she has openly acknowledged our situation. It feels pretty good, so I ignore her and go on. "You have a fantastic ass, Mrs. Singer," I tell her and take a step towards her.

"Nicholas! Damn it, stop it, OK?" she says, smiling, barely containing a laugh. "You can't come in, you can't have a hug. You can't touch me, OK? It's not right. You go to bed, honey."

"But Mrs. Singer, I'll never be able to sleep now that I've seen you like this. Can't you see what you've done to me?" I say, pointing at the giant erection in my pants. Mrs. Singer looks down, opens her mouth and chews on her lip a little and breaths deeply. I take another step forward.

"OK, Nick. I guess it's my fault. But you're going to have to go now. Go to bed and jerk off, OK? I'm sorry, honey."

"Hmmm, OK, I guess I will. But I'm going to think about you while I do it."

"I expect you always do, Nick. Isn't that right?"

"Jesus, now who's being bad? Yes, you've got me. Every day. Every day I jerk off and think of you. Happy?"

"Actually, yes, Thank you, Nick sweetie. I've thought about you too."

"Wait, what?"

"You heard me Nick, now go to bed."

"OK, now I'm going to jerk off and think about you masturbating while you imagine that your vibrator is my tongue," I say calmly.

"Nicholas!! Oh. My. God. What is wrong with you??" she says, laughing. "You are too funny." I'm glad she found it funny and didn't slap my face.

"OK, Mrs. Singer, I'll leave you to it. Just give me something to think about."

"Something to think about, Nick?" She stops and looks at me. "Well, how's this view?" She turns around and sticks her ass out.

"You're a lovely lady, Mrs. Singer."

"Oh, Nick, you really are the sweetest boy. Now get out. Seriously. Or it's going to be a bad scene. Leave, now, please. If our friendship means anything. Please don't ruin it." I can see she is serious, and despite all my playful flirting, I really do like her and don't want to hurt her.

"OK, Mrs. Singer, good night. And thank you."

"Thanks for what, honey"

"Thank you for being so...so...wonderful." She blows me a kiss and I leave. I hear her start the shower, maybe to cool herself off. I go to the guest room and jerk off thinking of her in all wet in there. The next morning over breakfast, we exchange lots of glances and little smiles and I feel like our little friendship has reached another stage.

Part 11.

My visits to the Singer household have become just as much about seeing Mrs. Singer as they are about hanging out with her son, my best friend. Our friendship, or whatever you want to call it, is so fun and I enjoy flirting with her more than just about anything in my life. I'm always trying to find times to talk to her when no one else is around and excuses to start a conversation.

I find her alone in the living room and prepare to give her a line I had practiced earlier. I had been planning on bringing up a book she had recommended for me, but she looks so cute that all my planning went up in smoke."Wow, you look..."

"Yes, I know. Ugly," she interrupts.

Actually, even though she is dressed down, she has on tight workout pants and it gives her an insane camel toe that makes me instantly crazy and it is difficult to resist the temptation to try and touch her. I wonder if she has staged this incredible display of pussy for my benefit.

"You're always gorgeous, Mrs. Singer. And I love the way your pants look on you."

"Nicholas, are you being bad?" she looks at me sideways. She knows full well what I'm referring to.

"Definitely, Mrs. Singer."

"Well, go on then, be bad," she says offhandedly, looking away. I take this as an invitation, put my hands on her hips and massage her upper thighs. Our eyes meet.

"Yes, those pants are really accentuating your pussy lips, Mrs. Singer," I say and give a little whistle.

"Nicholas! I should slap you! Ugh, how dare you? You are the cheekiest boy I've ever known! I can't believe you'd say that out loud!"

"Even though you wore that on purpose and arranged yourself in that way, because you knew I would see you? Because you like the attention I give you, because I make you feel young and sexy. Isn't that true?"

"Ugh, Nick. You're infuriating. But right as usual. I wanted you to notice me. Notice...shit, I'll just say it because you did. My pussy. I wanted you to look at me and get aroused by me. And apparently it worked, honey," she smiles and looks down at my pants.

"Yes, it worked," I say, getting in close and massaging her earlobe and neck. "But you don't need to try to impress me, Mrs. Singer, I always find you to be beautiful and irresistible, no matter what you're wearing." She is clearly getting hot as I touch her, panting ever so slightly, closing her eyes and then gazing deep into mine, as my hands explore her.

I decide to take a chance and go one step further than ever before. I very gently move my fingers closer to her breast and with the other hand, continue to massage her earlobe. Although I'm concerned not to do the wrong thing or ruin our friendship, I'm desperate to touch her. I very gently start massaging her breast, and move in to nibble on her ear. I can feel her heart beating fast. She lets me for about half a minute, then speaks.

"Oh, Mmmmmm...Nick...Ahhh...Nick...Oh, honey...please...please...stop, baby, please stop," she says in a low whisper. I stop. Just touching her like that, feeling her closeness and warm response is enough for me. I take my hands off her and back away.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Singer. I couldn't help it."

"I know, Nick baby. I'm sorry too. It's not your fault. I don't want you to, but you'd better go, OK?

"OK, Mrs. Singer. I..." I turn to leave, but she calls me back.

"Come here quickly, Nick. Let me give you a reward for being so sweet to me." Mrs. Singer takes my hand and gently puts it between her legs. "There," she whispers in my ear.

"Mrs. Sing-"

"Don't speak. Just touch me and give me a little kiss," she cuts me off. Our lips meet and once again I feel an electricity between us, while my fingers massage her pussy lips through her pants. She start sgroaning more loudly now, sounding like she might cum. Our lips rest against each other and I can feel her shaking. She groans and deepens our kiss, our tongues meeting for the first time.

After a minute, she stops and sighs. She softly pushes me away, removing my hand. Panting wildly. "OK, Nick, now go. Please. Go, baby," she says, breathless, heat in her eyes. I nod, and leave the room. I go back to hang out with Tommy, in complete shock.

After that amazing encounter, I don't want to stay away too long. Things were heating up between Mrs. Singer and I, but because she is married and because of our age difference, it is obvious that she is fighting against the temptation of having a fling with me. Of course, I want her to give in to all the heat between us but don't want her to do something that will make her not want to be around me any more.

Part 12.

The next Saturday, I'm over at their house in order to feed Tommy's fish when he is out of town. I go in and Mrs. Singer is lounging on the couch in her robe. She looks beyond amazing. I don't think she is expecting me and looks surprised. She doesn't get up though, in fact she puts her arms above her head and pulls an even more luxurious position.

"Hello, Mrs. Singer. How are you? Where's Mr. Singer?" She makes an ugly face.

"Ugh. My asshole husband? I don't know and I don't care. But it's nice to see you," she smiles and stretches out on the couch completely.

"You look very relaxed, Mrs. Singer. Would you like a foot massage?"

"You really think that's a good idea, Nick?" She opens her legs a little, puts her hand on her inner thigh and gives herself a little rub. I nearly come in my pants.

"Well, how about a thigh massage instead?" I suggest. she chuckles and gestures with her finger for me to come over.

"Hmmm, how about we start with the feet, Nicholas?" I leap onto the couch and sit by her feet. She raises her legs, allowing me to move closer. She puts her legs across my lap and I start to massage her toes and ankles. I love these times. We have a lovely chat about her job, my school, with a few bits of gossip thrown in. I try to impress her with some of my newly acquired knowledge of modern art, but she's not really listening.

She just sighs and I move up to her calves. "I wonder what people would say if they knew we were here together like this, Mrs. Singer. A schoolboy and a..."

"A what? An old lady?"

"Um, no. I was going to say...a milf" I feel uncertain.

"Nicholas!"

She has that adorable look on her face somewhere between shock and amusement and I take the opportunity to move my hands to her thighs. It doesn't get much better than this. She stretches herself out, lets out a "Mmmmmm" moan and spreads her legs a little more. I can see her underwear and my cock becomes engorged. Her panties are sheer and I can see her pubic hair. I have a hard time controlling myself.

Very quietly, Mrs. Singer asks me, "You know what milf stands for, Nick?" I do, but tell her I don't. "Well, you can look it up, but if I know you at all, I'd say it applies to how you are feeling right now," she says and closes her eyes.

"Mrs Singer, I know what it means."

"Oh." She looks at me and appears a little embarrassed.

"And anyway, I feel like that all the time." I move my hand up her leg. I could see a wet patch on her panties and she is completely relaxed now. Her robe has fallen open and her cleavage is accentuated. I'm desperate to fuck her. "Mrs. Singer, I..." She looks at me and as if waking up from a dream, sighs and sits up.

She takes her legs off my knee and adjusts her robe. "Nick, you give the best massages, I was surrendering to you completely. You could have taken complete advantage of me, you bad boy. You make me feel wonderful, thank you," she says, looking away

"Complete advantage, Mrs. Singer?" I want to know if she would have let me fuck her just then.

"Yes, Nick," she says softly and then stands up, adjusting her robe. "Now," she says, letting out a sigh. "You go and feed the fish and I'll see you later, OK, sweetie?"

"Of course, Mrs. Singer." I leave. It feels amazing to have obviously turned her on like that, but of course I'm frustrated as hell. Just like every night, I go on Facebook, find some selfies she has taken and jerk off.

Tommy is back in town the next day, so I'm over again, ostensibly to work on a school project. It is after dinner time and I find Mrs. Singer, dressed strangely. "Mrs. Singer, what on earth..?"

"Oh, I'm going to a costume party, Nick"

"Hmmm...why an old washer woman?"

"Old, Nick?"

"No, I didn't mean..."

"I know, Nick, I'm only teasing. Plus, I think you like that I'm older, don't you?"

"Mrs. Singer, I...I don't know, maybe. Yes, I suppose so."

"I thought so," she says smiling.

"So, anyway, why a washer woman, and not a...cheerleader or a nurse or a..."

"A hooker...?"

"Um..."

"Well, Nick, you're naming female sexual stereotypes, so..."

"You are dressed like a slut, Mrs. Singer, so why not?"

"Nicholas! How dare you?! This time I really am going to slap you, you...you...Urg!" She walks over to me and goes to playfully slap my face, but I catch her hand and hold it. Our bodies are close, our eyes locked. I look down and can't help but admire her delicious cleavage and the way her breasts look through the thin fabric of her top.

"Mrs. Singer, you do realize I can see your nipples, right? Is this character set in a time before they invented underwear?" She laughs loudly.

"You can only see my nipples if you choose to look, Nick, honey. You don't have to look if you don't like them."

"I love them, Mrs. Singer, you know that. I..."

"Love, Nick?"

"I dream of sucking on your nipples, Mrs. Singer", I whisper in her ear.

"OK, Nick, you're pushing it," she says sternly. But I can tell she's getting excited as well. Her nipples were hard and so is my cock.

"Can I touch you, Mrs. Singer?"

"No, Nick. I don't think that's a good idea. My husband and I are trying to patch things up, and well..."

"Oh, I see." My face falls and I feel like dirt. I fucking hate him and wish he'd leave. I let go of her wrist and back off. "I'll leave you be, Mrs. Singer," I say and walk away.

"Nick, I'm sorry. I can see I've hurt your feelings. I don't want that."

"It's fine, Mrs. Singer, you're right. And anyway, I should get a girl my own age and not..." Now it is Mrs Singer's turn to look disappointed. I had said that on purpose. "Have a good time at party, Mrs. Singer. Maybe you should put on a bra, though. I don't like the idea of lots of men drooling over you."

"You're right, Nick. The truth is, I only did that for you." I feel better, and we both smile. "Will you be staying over, Nick? Maybe I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, Tommy and I are seeing a movie but we'll be back here later on."

"OK, then. Talk later, sweetie". She gives me a hug and goes to put on a bra.



Later that night, I return with Tommy to their house. It's pretty late, so think I'll go straight to bed in my usual place in the guest room. I open the door and there she is, lying on the bed. In her bra and panties.

"Mrs. Singer, what are y-"

"Heyyy Nicky baby," she interrupts.

"It looks like you found your bra, at least." Mrs Singer laughs uproariously. She'd been drinking again.

"Come sit down with me, baby." For some reason, I'm feeling uneasy, although of course this is something I had dreamed about ever since first setting eyes on this woman. I sit down, but don't touch her. "Where's Mr. Singer?" I ask, wondering what is going on. She makes an angry face and says "Ugh! Fuck him. Seriously, fuck that horrible pencil dick asshole."

"Oh."

"He's off with another woman, so fuck him. I'm gonna fuck another man if I want to. And it's gonna be you. I want you to fuck me. Tonight." She leans towards me and I can smell the alcohol on her breath. Her eyes are half closed and she is clearly out of her mind with booze and anger. Of course, I want to fuck her, but this feels wrong.

"Nick, I know you've wanted to fuck me this whole last year, and now's your chance." She reaches over, grabs the lump in my pants and it feel incredible. "Oh, I knew you were a big boy, Nick baby. Much better than that shrimp dick husband of mine," she says and laugh wildly again. Yeah, her hand on my dick is the most amazing sensation of my life so far and I don't ask her to remove it despite my misgivings.

She continues to stroke my cock while looking into my eyes and licking her lips. I put my hand on her back and makes little circles. "Mrs. Singer, you really think this is a good idea? You've been drinking a lot and you're obviously mad at your husband."

"Ugh, don't be such a jerk, Nick. You gonna fuck me or not?" she says, slurring. I don't like her like this.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, Mrs. Singer, but no. I'm not going to. I'm sorry, I..." She stretches herself out and tries to make herself irresistible. She looks amazing and my heart races. I'm desperate to fuck her, but I don't want it to be like this. I know that if I did, she would regret it and it would probably be the end of our friendship. My mind goes back to the last time she was drunk and how grateful she was that I didn't take advantage of her.

"C'mon Nick baby, I know you want to. Your dick is so hard for me. Touch me, baby. Touch my tits, touch my pussy. Put your finger inside me, come on, kiss me."

I kiss her gently, then, showing unbelievable restraint, say "Come on, Mrs. Singer, let's put you to bed." She gets mad at me then. "OK, fuck you. Fuck you and fuck my fucking husband. Fuck all men. Ugh! You're a fucking asshole, Nicholas, fuck you!" She gets up and storms out of the room.

"Mrs. Singer, I'm sorry, I...", I call out but it is too late. She's gone and I hear her door slam. I feel shitty, uncertain if I'd made the right decision or not. She is obviously conflicted and going through some crazy stuff and I'm probably not helping. although I'm supposed to stay over, I split and walk home.

Part 13.



I don't go over to their house for weeks after that. I make excuses to Tommy and we always end up hanging out over at my place. One day, however, I'm at the swimming pool near me and she is there. She sees me and waves me over, making a sad face. "Hello, Mrs. Singer. How have you been? I say, somewhat coldly. She is much more effusive and emotional.

"Nick, I don't know what to say. I'm just...I made a fool of myself and I was rude. I was out of my mind and way out of line. I'm so sorry. I truly am. I've made you hate me, haven't I?"

I feel bad for her. She is so gorgeous, so sweet and she seems sincere in what she is saying. "No, of course not," I say. "I won't ever hate you. I'm just freaked out and didn't know if I would be welcome back."

"I understand, Nick. Now listen. I think what you did and the way you treated me was amazing. I was crazy and even though you have a crush on me, you acted with grace and treated me with respect and care. I think what you did was...very grown up. You showed me what a great guy you are and I really feel like I owe you."

"Thanks, Mrs. Singer. It's just that I really like you, and..."

"I know, Nick. I like you too. How can I make this right between us?" she looks up at me with big searching eyes, and it feels like she means all this and that I matter to her. I shrug and look away. "Come over for dinner, OK? I'll make your favorite and maybe there will be a reward for you, if you want it. How does that sound?"

It sounded great. I love her rewards. I remember her last reward, when she allowed me to touch her pussy after I'd been a "good boy." I tell her I'll be there and I can't help but feel very excited.

I go over that night and as usual Tommy's Dad isn't there. During dinner, Mrs. Singer says she is gonna get an early night and then says that I look tired and perhaps I ought to as well, knowing full well I was going to stay the night. Is this the "reward" I was going to get? By not fucking her when she is drunk, my reward would be to get to fuck her when she's sober?

That sounds unlikely. But I'm still excited and at around 10 o'clock, I make my excuses and say I'm gonna go to bed early. About 20 minutes later, she walks in to my room and locks the door behind her. My heart starts racing. She is dressed in a tight low cut blue dress and she looks amazingly hot, with stunning cleavage and insane curves. I'm sitting on the bed and she comes over and sits down next to me, smiling warmly.

"Now, Nick. Again, I want to thank for being a gentleman the other night, when I...I...made such a fool of myself. And, just thank you for being such a sweet, lovely boy and for making me feel so young and pretty all the time."

"Mrs. Singer, you know I adore you, I..."

"Shut up, Nick, OK? Now, I want to give you a reward. This doesn't mean we're going to be girlfriend and boyfriend, OK? This doesn't mean we're gonna be together, OK? This doesn't mean anything. It just is what it is, do you understand?" I'm getting beyond excited, so I just nod and shut my mouth.

She goes on. "This is just a reward for you, for being a good boy. Something nice for you. But that's it. This will be the only time, got it?"

"Got it, Mrs. Singer," I say, almost salivating with anticipation.

She looks me in the eye, puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me down on the bed. "Lie down and relax, Nick honey." I lie down on the bed and without saying anything, she starts undoing my shoe laces. She slips off my shoes and socks, then moves towards me on the bed. She starts touching my dick through my pants. This is really happening. Only this time, it is perfect. She looks perfect, smells perfect, feels perfect.

She smiles at me lovingly. I start to speak, but she puts a finger over my lips. "Don't speak, baby," she tells me. She unbuckles my belt, unzips my fly, slips off my pants and pulls off my briefs. My cock is just there, sitting upright, with Mrs. Singer sitting astride one of my legs looking like the mother of all milfs. She starts stroking my cock.

This is it. This is the moment I have fantasized about for months and months, but it feels so much better than I ever could have imagined. My first ever hand job and it's from the woman of my dreams. I groan and open my legs. She continues stroking softly and looks me in the eyes. Very softly she whispers, "You have waited a long time for this and you deserve it. Does that feel good, Nick darling?"

"Yes, Mrs. Sin...Singer." I could barely speak.

"I'm glad you like your reward, Nick baby. I didn't know you'd be so big, baby. I love your cock." I really don't know if I have a big cock or not or if she is just being nice. It looks a lot like those dudes in the porn films I'd seen online. I want to shut my eyes, but I can't take my eyes off her. "Touch my breasts, Nick baby," she whispers to me.

I do as she asks, and everything just gets better. "Mrs. Singer, I'm gonna..." She stops stroking and just squeezes my balls gently..

"Not yet, Nicholas. We're going to make this last a little while, OK?" I nod. For the next 20 minutes, Mrs. Singer plays with my cock as I fondle her breasts, her tummy, her earlobe and her neck. Every time I say I'm about to come, she slows down to prolong the moment. It's heavenly torture.

After a little while, she leans over, gently kisses me on the lips and asks, "You want to come now, Nick, honey?" I nod and she speeds up. I have never felt so good. "OK, Nicholas. You come for Mrs. Singer now," she orders, in a quiet yet firm tone.

"Yes...Mrs...Singer...I..."

"Come for Mrs. Singer, baby, come...come...come," she says gently and lovingly, encouraging me with her sweet words as she pumps my cock. I explode like a volcano in a rush of almost inconceivable pleasure. My cum shoots up, splashing on her dress and in her hair. A little goes on her eyelash. She sits there looking at me, gently stroking me until I'm all done, then wipes it off her face, calmly.

"Mrs. Singer, I..." Once again, she puts a finger over my mouth.

"Wait here, honey and don't move." She leaves the room and returns a minute later with some warm, damp towels. She cleans me off with great care and love. "That was wonderful, Nick. Thank you for coming for me. I hope you enjoyed your reward." I nod, unable to speak. "Now, you get some rest, honey. And I'll see you tomorrow.

A tiny little kiss on my mouth and she gone.



The next morning, I go downstairs and everyone is milling around, including somewhat surprisingly, Tommy's Dad. Mrs. Singer is sitting on the couch in the living room and waves me over. I sit down next to her so that our thighs are touching. Tommy and his Dad are in the next room, so she keeps her voice low. "Now, Nick. I wanted to make sure you were feeling OK about last night," she says in a matter-of-fact tone."Yes, I..."

"And that you aren't expecting more from me."

"No, I..."

"And that you understand that I'm not your girlfriend now."

"Yes, I..."

"Can I trust you to keep this between us, Nick?"

"Yes, of course, I..."

"OK. Now, most importantly, Nick. Did you enjoy your special reward?" she says, giving me a kind smile, touching my cheek.

"Mrs. Singer, yes. It was..."

"Was that your first hand job, Nick?"

"Yes, Mrs. Singer, it was." I'm a little embarrassed.

"It's OK, Nick. I think that's sweet. That's part of the reason why I thought you deserved it. You have made me feel good and I wanted to make you feel good too. And actually, Nick," her voice dropping even lower, "I really enjoyed stroking your big cock and making you come. It made me feel like a woman again."

"Mrs. Singer..." I start to speak, but don't know what to say. I want more, but I understand that she can't give it to me and it is obvious now that good things happen to me when I am respectful and patient with her.

"Yes, Nick?"

"Mrs. Singer, is it really big or are you just being nice?" I have to know.

She leans in and whispers, "Oh, it's big, Nick."

"Thank you so much," is all I could think of to say. I feel great.

She gets up and smiles at me. "OK, Nick. I'm going for a run. I'll catch you later." She gives me a playful slap on the cheek and then jogs off. I'm left wondering if that's going to be it for us.