4 comments/ 121496 views/ 29 favorites Mrs. Anderson Ch. 01 By: velvet hammer This happened when I came home for summer vacation, from my first year of college. On the third day home I went out to try to find a job. I mean, my option was moping around the house all day, and I was sick of hanging out by myself. The only alternative to beating off alone all night every night was to get out there and maybe run into some of the girls from my old high school, get something going. After spending the better half of a day kicking around downtown, looking at the help wanted ads in the paper and making a few phone calls, I came home. "Is that you, David?" my mother called from the dining room as I came in. "Yeah, Ma." "Did you find a job, hon?" "No, Ma." "Well somebody called, and I lined up a job for you." "Huh? Who?" "Mrs. Anderson called. I told her you were looking for something to do with yourself this summer, and Mrs. Anderson said that she's got something for you to do at her place." Mrs. Anderson was my best friend Tom's mom. Tom had gone to one of the service academies, and was doing field training all summer long. I figured Mrs. Anderson needed somebody to fill in his place, mow the lawn, clean out the gutters that sort of thing. If my mother had any idea what it was Mrs. Anderson had in store for me, I wonder if she would have sounded so chirpy and cheerful as she relayed this news. I was to go over to the Anderson's house the next morning, at ten. I got there the next day and rang the bell, and heard Mrs. Anderson call out, "Door's open, come on in Dave." Mrs. Anderson was sitting on one of the sofas in their large living room. When she looked up at me, I saw something in her bright blue eyes that gave me reason to pause. It was almost as if I fell under a hypnotic spell; up until this point I knew her as my best friend's mom, but today there was definitely something different going on. Suddenly it wasn't as if I'd come over as to shoot hoops with Tom out on the driveway or something. "Hello Mrs. Anderson." "Hello, David," she said demurely. I always thought Tom's mother was good-looking, attractive even, but for some reason this afternoon Mrs. Anderson was downright beautiful. Her silky-straight blonde hair, cut shoulder-length flowed was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing pearl earrings. She seemed a bit dressed up for so early in the morning; she wore a very daring sleeveless black halter minidress, with a deep V-neck. She had her shapely legs crossed, and she was wearing high heels. The front of her dress plunged showing slightly more than a respectable amount of cleavage. Mrs. Anderson obviously wasn't wearing a bra; I could see her nipples tenting the fabric. Of course I'd noticed Mrs. Anderson's breasts before but quite honestly I'd never appreciated how well-endowed she was; I estimated D-cup, at least. She had her left elbow up on the back of the sofa, a substantial gold tennis bracelet dripping off her wrist and the formidable diamonds of her wedding rings set on display. "Uh, what is it I can do for you, Mrs. Anderson?" "Well, why don't you sit down a bit before we get started?" Mrs. Anderson indicated the sofa, but I chose one of the large, overstuffed chairs just next to where she sat. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Anything?" "Uh, a Coke would be fine." When she got up to fetch me a Coke, Mrs. Anderson leaned forward, offering me a tremendous view of her globes. When she returned with my drink, my eyes went right to her chest. I couldn't help but notice a significant bounce to her melons as she strode across the room; they seemed to move with a life of their own, all the way from eight thirty to half-past two and back, and there was a distinct firmness to them. I also noticed the six inch slit up the side of her skirt. When Mrs. Anderson sat down, somehow her hand ended up resting on my forearm. I was mesmerized by the view down the plunging V front of her dress. If she could have felt my pulse, she would have felt my heart racing a million miles an hour. "Uh, what kind of work do you have me to do, Mrs. Anderson?" Mrs. Anderson smiled mysteriously for a moment, then got right to the point: "Oh, I didn't have you come over here so you could work for me, David. I called you over here so you could fuck me." I guess my jaw was in my lap. She continued, "Mr. Anderson isn't here during the day, Tom is doing his cadet summer thing; I'm left here all by myself. Well, I thought to myself, all the other women have their flings with their younger lovers. Why shouldn't I have one too? "It's not as if Mr. Anderson hasn't had his share of young things," she went on. "Oh, I know about it. The wife always knows about these things. I put up with it," she shrugged, "because he's such a good provider." Mrs. Anderson waved about the luxurious house, the well-appointed room. I guess I was still sitting there like a bump on a log. Mrs. Anderson sat back, both hands on top of mine like she was counseling me or something. "Think about it for a moment, Dave. Do you have any appreciation for how much more experienced an older woman is? You can enjoy the benefits of such experience, then when the school year rolls back around you'll be able to teach and impress all your college-age girlfriends with your advanced skills." "I, uh, I . . ." I simply didn't know what to say. Mrs. Anderson was at no loss for words, however. "Now then, can I have a look at your cock?" she asked directly, as she placed her hand directly on the tent pole sticking up out of the middle of my trousers. "Oh, what have we here?" she asked coyly, as she grasped my rod through the constraints of my clothing. My mind was ticking over a thousand miles an hour and I was feeling a swirling turbulence of feelings and emotion. This was Tom's Mom, for one thing. On the other hand, she was downright beautiful and totally hot besides. She was practically throwing herself at me, offering herself to me on a plate; what Mrs. Anderson was suggesting had my mind racing with possibilities. Leaning forward so her tits were right in my face, Mrs. Anderson gave my cock a squeeze, then reached around my head with her other hand like she was running her fingers through my hair, and pulled my face right into her cleavage. Her tits were so big, so round, so full and roaming free beneath the loose-fitting front of her plunging-V dress. My hands went to her waist as I enjoyed the feeling of her round melons pressed against my face. Then I felt her undoing my fly. I felt the coolness of her touch on the hot skin of my hard, hot meat. When she pulled it out, we both sat back. There it was, my impudent cock; purple helmet, shaft and all, poking straight up, exposed in the bright daylight of the room. Now it was Mrs. Anderson's turn to be mesmerized. I saw it in her face, in her eyes. Her right hand went to her chest, as if she were having heart palpitations, as her left hand lightly stroked and caressed my boner. "Oh my God, David, you have such a beautiful cock!" "Thank you, Mrs. Anderson." I didn't know what else to say – I'd never received a compliment on my cock before, especially coming from my best friend's Mom. "And it's so . . . so . . . BIG!" There we were, sitting side-by-side in the well-lit living room with the bright light of mid-morning streaming in through the panes of the double French doors looking out onto the patio, my best friend's mom slowly stroking my cock. The diamonds of Mrs. Anderson's wedding ring set caught the rays of sunlight and sparkled as her fingers gently caressed my rod. "May I . . .?" she asked, " . . . I want to . . . suck your cock!" Then without waiting for an answer Mrs. Anderson leaned forward and placed her ruby red lips on the head of my cock. I felt her wet tongue swirling about the glans. She started out with some tantalizing lip & tongue action, giving me total eye contact as she ran her tongue all up & down my length. Mrs. Anderson rubbed the shaft all over her face, enjoyed the heat of my cock all over her cheeks as she palmed my rod against her face. Then she moved on to a little nibbling around that 'secret spot' right on the base at the underside. Mrs. Anderson nibbled and licked her way back up the shaft till she got to the head . . . she tickled and teased all about the rim ever so gently with her lips, her teeth, while flicking her tongue about the very tip, the sensitive slitted end. She repeated this tantalizing lip & tongue action, running her tongue all up & down my length at least three times. Back on the head again she opened wide and went down on me, swallowed me whole, swallowed my entire length and then slowly released my cock from her mouth. She did this a couple times, made my cock nice and slick with saliva. Then she formed an O with her forefinger and thumb around my tool and slowly began the time-honored milking motion, stroking my rod, pumping my tool up and down into her mouth as she sucked me off. Her ruby red lips formed a seal about my girth . . . At this stage of the cock-worship Mrs. Anderson licked all around the head, slobbering copious amounts of drool to act as lubricant as she slowly, gently yet ever-so-deliberately began jacking me off into her mouth . . . as she did this she was still teasing me ever so gently about the rim with her lips and tongue . . . she allowed her teeth to trace along every contour & ridge of my cock, and Mrs. Anderson engulfed my hard cock in her warm wet mouth she started humming . . . mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmm . . . The cum was starting to boil in my balls. "You gonna cum?" she inquired, after what seemed like an eternity of slurping. "Soon," I breathed. "Cum for me David," Mrs. Anderson whispered urgently between mouthfuls of cock. "Cum for me. Are you going to cum for me?" Hearing these dirty, perverted words fall from the lips of this very proper lady was having an effect on me. Anticipating my moment was near, I made to pull my cock out of her mouth – I couldn't imagine she would put up with me cumming in her mouth. "It's okay, David," she whispered furtively as she jacked me off onto her gaping lips and tongue, "You can cum in my mouth." My cock couldn't take much more abuse. I felt the heat of white-hot sperm building up in my cock. Then a hot stream of cum shot out of the head of my cock, against Mrs. Anderson's chin and dripping all over her hand as she jacked me off. My second shot came out with such force that it splattered beneath all over her lips as I emptied my balls. The third shot landed between her monstrous tits. It was soon joined there by another load; I watched the glob of goo I'd launched on Mrs. Anderson's full, red lips slide down her chin, and then drip onto her heaving chest. "Mmmmm," she said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She followed up this crude gesture by inspecting the deposit of cum on the back of her hand. Then to my surprise, Mrs. Anderson licked up the entire wad of cum. Her other hand was still on my softening rod and there was cum all over the place. Mrs. Anderson looked down at her handiwork, then leaned over and proceeded to lick my shaft, lick me clean. When she was done performing this task, Mrs. Anderson's eyes went up as if in thought she rolled my wad around in her mouth. When she finally swallowed my load with a gulp, she looked me in the eye and said, "You need to eat more oranges." To be continued . . . Mrs. Anderson Ch. 02 After what took place on Tuesday, Mrs. Anderson told me to come around Thursday, around ten. So Thursday morning comes around and I'm sitting around. I look out the window and what do I spy? Little Bobbie Gershwin from next door is outside cutting the lawn, in a halter-top and a tight pair of Daisy Dukes of all things . . . Bobbie Gershwin has this HUGE rack, and whenever she rocks by with that balcony of hers there's this dialogue that goes on in my head: Please . . . just five minutes with those puppies is all I ask . . . let me just IMMERSE myself in all that glorious titflesh and have my WAY with them and get it out of my system once & for all . . . One little feel is all I ask . . . Dear Gawd in Heaven please let me have one little squeeze & I'll be good and go to church every Sunday for the rest of my life just one little feel maybe a squeeze perhaps a motorboat . . . let me titfuck her and I'll become a priest . . . But of course none of THAT was going to ever take place, so instead I picked up my keys off the kitchen counter and drove over to see Mrs. Anderson . . . Just like the first time, when I rang the bell the door was open, and I heard Mrs. Anderson call out, "Door's open, come on in Dave." I went inside but she was nowhere to be seen. "I'm back here, Dave. Down the hallway." Down the hallway was Mr. and Mrs. Anderson's bedroom. I knew it from when Tommy Anderson and I used to hang out at the Anderson's place. I went down the hallway. The door to Mrs. Anderson's bedroom was open. Mrs. Anderson's back was to me. She was standing in front of her full length mirror, clad in only a black bra and a pair of black thigh-hi stockings. She had her blond hair done up on top of her head; what caught my attention first were the little golden hairs at the nape of her neck. My eyes then traveled from the back clasp of her bra, down the line of her back. Between her black bra and the tops of her thigh-hi stockings, Mrs. Anderson was bare-ass naked. Mrs. Anderson turned back and forth as she inspected her image in the mirror over the tops of her reading glasses. "I had my pussy waxed, David. Do you like it?" Her natural bodily hair was cropped close, narrowed down to a tight Mohican. She was completely bald from the clit on down. "Uh, y-e-a-h . . ." "A lot of girls are having their pussies waxed completely bald, these days, but I think I like the 'landing strip' look. What do you think, David?" "Uh, I like the 'landing strip' too, Mrs. Anderson." She put her hands on her hips and turned to inspect her derriere. "What do you think about my ass, David? Is my ass too fat?" "Uh, no, Mrs. Anderson. You have a nice . . . uh . . . ass . . ." I couldn't believe I was talking to my best friend's MOM about her pussy and her ass. "Are you sure my ass isn't fat?" "Uh, no, Mrs. Anderson. You have a nice ass. Your ass is, uh, very nice." I wasn't just saying this as a compliment; Mrs. Anderson had a tight ass. Mrs. Anderson turned, her bright blue eyes possessed an almost hypnotic power as she looked at me over the tops of her reading glasses. "I can't believe you've been in here for five minutes now, looking at my bare ass . . ." Uh-oh, I thought, I've done something wrong. ". . . and you're still got your clothes on . . ." I undressed. My cock was already hard. It was sticking straight out in front of me, like a wooden rod. Mrs. Anderson went to her knees before me, clasped her hands behind my back, and took my hard, hot meat all the way down into her wet mouth. I had to put my hands to her head to steady myself, taking care not to mess up her hair. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM . . ." she moaned as she sucked me, then, taking a break, "Gawd, how I missed your cock." Her mouth was wet and sloppy on my cock. Saliva dripped from her lips and flowed down the length of my shaft. I looked down as Mrs. Anderson stroked my rod into her mouth, watched the diamonds on her wedding set sparkle as her hand went up and down my length. She glanced upwards as she slurped on my pole, and this added a dimension of personal closeness to it; like, instead of me having my dick sucked, Mrs. Anderson was sucking my dick, and by looking me in the eye as she did so she was acknowledging the act. Oh yeah, her eyes told me, I'm sucking your cock. I'm your best friend's mom, I'm forty-five years old, I'm a married woman, and I'm down on my knees before you with your cock in my married mouth. "Ooohh . . ." I shuddered and gasped as I savored the sight of Mrs. Anderson's red-painted lips on my cock, engulfed in the silky wet velvet of her mouth. The sight of her manicured hand encircling my rod, tugging it up and down and into her mouth, was bringing me close to the edge . . . Then just as abruptly as she'd started she released my cock from her mouth. Holding it before her like a microphone, the quivering end of my cock mere inches from her lips, she looked me in the eyes and said simply, "Fuck me now." Without releasing my cock from her hand, Mrs. Anderson rose to her feet and led me by the cock across the room to her king-sized bed. Their bed. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson's bed. I was to fuck her on the same bed she fucked husband on, apparently. We lay on the bed. As I moved on top of Mrs. Anderson, between her legs, another phase shift occurred. Suddenly it was no longer me on the receiving end of a blowjob; we were face-to-face, embracing one another and the swollen head of my cock pressed right on her outer pussylips. My best friend's MOM's pussylips. "Uh, Mrs. Anderson . . ." I began to say. "I think it's alright for you to call me Irene, David." "OK, uh, Irene . . . I think I need to ask you a question . . ." "What is it, David?" she said as she reached down to part her pussylips for me. "Uh, I need to ask you . . . are you . . . do I need to . . .?" "Just don't come inside me, David." "OK, thanks, that's what I wanted to ask you about." "Now shut up and fuck me." "Uh!" I groaned as I shoved the blunt head of my cock against her pussylips, then "Uh . . . UH . . . U-H-H-H-H-!-!-!" as I slid into her wet hole. Surprisingly tight for an older woman, I assumed Mrs. Anderson hadn't had any cock in a while. Little did I suspect just how far off I was with this guess; far from being a 're-tread virgin' Mrs. Anderson's tight pussy was the result of her disciplined Kegel regimen. And then we were fucking. Face to face with her hands all over my chest, I had two handfuls of Mrs. Anderson's married, middle-aged ass as I drilled into her married cunt with my rod of steel. Mrs. Anderson was moaning and sighing in ecstasy rolling her hips beneath me and fucking me like a woman possessed. Sensing I was about to come, I pulled out. Mrs. Anderson reached down and put her hand around my shaft and started jerking me off. "Cum for me, Dave. Make your big, fat cock cum all over me!" she urged, her pretty blue eyes smiling up at me; an All-American cover girl face with a mouth on her like a twenty-dollar whore. I looked down. As she jerked my shaft in her left hand, it was like her rings were staring me directly in the face. "Come on, Dave. Cum. Cum for me! Shoot your cum all me!" She continued: "All over me! I'm a filthy . . . fucking . . . cheating . . . whore, Dave! Treat me like a whore! Fuck me like my husband used to fuck me, Dave! Like he fucks his little whores! "Cum on me, Dave! I need your cum!" she hissed urgently. My poor cock couldn't take much more abuse, and I unloaded on her. Cum shot from the end of my cock and splattered against Mrs. Anderson's chin, coating her lips and her left cheek. A line of cum landed all the way from her belly to her left breast. My third shot managed to land right between her massive, tits. I glanced up in time to see that second load slide down Mrs. Anderson's full, pink lips, down her chin, and drip onto her sweaty, heaving tits. "Oh Gawd but you're good David. Where did you learn to fuck like that? I lost my eyeballs somewhere in my head, and the top of my head exploded about four times." When I looked into her eyes, I saw a satisfied look. Mrs. Anderson's pretty blue eyes sparkled, and she smiled wide. "Gawd I love that," she laughed, scooping the sperm from her face and tits and licking it from her fingers. "There's nothing better than having a wad of hot jizz shoot all over me." Mrs. Anderson stared me right in the eye as she brought her left hand to her mouth and licked my thick, gooey sperm from her wedding and engagement rings. Then she spoke again. "I want to be your slut, David. I want you to fuck me anytime, all the time. All you have to do is ask."