She was the object of his teenage desires. She was the woman who taught him how to fuck.
Now that she’s left the country, I guess it’s a good time to tell my story about Becky. Way back when I was in year 9, she was the youngest looking of my friends’ mothers. I remember the first time I met her. My best friend, Greg, and I had just come back from riding our bikes. I’d never been to his house, and we just stopped in for a cold drink.
Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Want to Have Fun was blasting from the stereo-I’ll never forget it-and Becky was bopping around the living room doing housework in short shorts and a tank top. She hopped down off a chair with the agility of a high school cheerleader, tits bouncing under tight cotton cloth, and shook hands with me. She had the clearest, most penetrating blue eyes I’ve ever seen, and her entire style was friendly and down to earth.
I assumed she was Greg’s older sister, and my confusion grew worse when Greg introduced her by name. Turned out he always called her Becky, never Mum. It wasn’t until later in the day that I got around to asking Greg who that cute girl was, and he explained that she was his mother. To say that I was surprised would be an understatement, and I guess I was a little embarrassed, too. I mean it’s definitely not cool for a teenage boy to tell his best friend that his mother is cute, but Greg took it in stride.
Looking back, I realize Becky was (hard to believe) not much younger than my own mother or the mothers of most of my friends. She would have been about 36 when I first met her, and she haunted my erotic fantasies throughout my teenage years. She was usually at home whenever I came over to hang out with Greg, and sometimes I’d find a reason to stop by on the slightest pretext, just to check her out.
As time went by, I realized Becky just about lived in shorts and tank tops. She also seemed to go barefoot all year round, and that added a youthful, girlish quality to her. She seldom wore a bra, but there was nothing girlish about the way those ripe tits of hers would swing from side to side.
And then there were her hips and ass: perfectly rounded and womanly. Her legs were smooth and well-toned. I guess it came from all that bouncing around doing housework.
Once in a while during the summer once I’d left school and waiting to start college, I’d go over to Greg’s, and Becky would be sunbathing in the backyard, her tan flesh oiled and gleaming. I’ll never forget the time Greg was still in the shower and I wandered out to the back porch. Becky heard the sliding glass door open and close and turned over to see who was there. She had undone her bathing suit top, and as she turned, both of her firm tits (nearly as tan as the rest of body) came into clear view. I couldn’t tell whether she realized what had happened, and she covered up quickly, but it sure made my day. But it was kind of strange, hanging out with my best friend and thinking about his mother’s body all the time. I sometimes wondered if he’d ever caught me looking at his mother (especially after that comment about her being cute), but he never said anything.
Another time a few years later as I was waiting for Greg to get off the phone, I saw Becky come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. She gave me a quick wave and went into her bedroom, which was straight down the hall. Without closing the door all the way, she dropped the towel, and I got a perfect view of her luscious ass and toned, trim legs. I’m almost sure she did that on purpose.
Then there was the time Becky was painting the kitchen baseboards, sitting there with her legs spread, and I could see her dark, curly bush peeking out from her short shorts. As you can see, Becky dominated my private fantasies, but, understandably, at age 17 or 18, it was hard for me to talk Becky with her son. He seemed oblivious to her looks, which I guess is natural.
Becky never seemed to have a job. At least she never got dressed up and went to an office or store like other mothers. And it was only after I had been coming around for three or four years that I found out she was fluent in three foreign languages and often worked at home as a book translator.
I had enrolled in a Spanish class the first year of my first year at college, and when Becky found out, she insisted on speaking Spanish with me every time I came over. I was a total idiot when it came to learning a foreign language and sometimes felt stupid talking Spanish with my best friend’s mother, but the truth is, I probably would have failed the class if it wasn’t for her help.
Of course, at the time, I didn’t care about failing. What I cared about was the fact that speaking Spanish together created a kind of bubble of intimacy; just me and Becky in our own little world; even if she was doing most of the talking. I remember how she would lean into my face to show me how to position my lips to form the words. Her breath was always minty fresh and her lips were just inches from mine, and I’d end up sitting there with a tremendous boner. It’s a wonder I survived college at all.
It was also because of the Spanish class that I found out Becky dreamed of living in Spain. She had spent some time there when she was in her late teens and even told me a story about swimming at a nude beach when she was about my age. You can imagine what was going through my mind: visions of Becky totally naked, the warm sun kissing her body, suntan oil dripping down her shoulders and into her cleavage. But she told that story like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I seemed to spend a lot of time with Becky. Sitting across from me at the kitchen table, she’d explain how she hoped that her translating skills would help her get a job in Spain, but meanwhile here she was, being a mum in this ordinary town. Then a song she liked would come on the radio, and she’d hop up and start dancing across the room, and her tits would jiggle, and I’d be mesmerized.
It took me a while longer to realize that maybe her marriage to Greg’s father was part of the problem. As long as I had known Greg, his dad had been a quiet, conservative, hardworking figure in the background, definitely not the kind of person to go skinny-dipping with on a Spanish beach. Kids usually aren’t aware of this sort of thing, but as Greg and I progressed through college, I realized that Becky was desperately unhappy and that her talk about leaving for Spain one day was serious.
Also (and I don’t know how much of this was just the result of my growing up and developing a more mature view of things) but during my last year in college, Becky evolved from being a cute girl-woman into someone deeper and more serious, but at the same time much more beautiful and sexy. And, somehow, those blue eyes of hers grew even more penetrating.
All that teenage fantasizing and speculation ramped up late in my last year at college. I was two weeks away from my 19th birthday, and Becky had told me she had a birthday present for me, so I came over after college.
As usual, she was home alone, wearing short shorts and a skimpy top. But instead of bouncing around the room doing housework, she was sitting at the kitchen table and appearing to be a bit downcast. Despite a definite trace of sadness in her blue eyes, she greeted me as warmly as ever.
“Hi, Steve how are you?” she said. “Let me get your birthday present.”
While Becky left the room, I sat down at the kitchen table where she had papers spread out. There were two piles: one stack of letters regarding a job position in Barcelona, and the other a stack of legal and divorce papers.
Becky came back with a small package, and I stood up and hurriedly unwrapped it. In it was an expensive-looking pen-and-pencil set.
“It’s for when you go off to college,” she said.
“Thanks a lot…” I began, but Becky stopped me with a finger to my lips.
“There’s something else,” she said. Taking my face in her hands, she kissed me full on the mouth, sliding her tongue along my lips and pressing the full length of her body close to mine.
Of course, underneath the initial shock, I was in instant and total heaven. In my almost four years of teenage fantasizing, I never actually expected this. But even at the age of 18-almost 19-I had the feeling things might have gone further if the phone hadn’t rung.
I never did know what that call was about, but Becky composed herself and told me she had to leave. For the next three months, I was in a major twist over what I thought was the chance of a lifetime gone forever.
Then, right after I completed my college courses, Becky phoned me at home, something she’d never done before. My mum answered the phone and thought it was one of my teachers. When I picked up the extension, Becky asked me if I’d like to take a ride with her. I had no idea what she wanted, but, of course, I agreed. Anything to be alone with her, especially after what happened last time. She picked me up in her car at a corner where Greg and I usually met, handed me the keys and asked if I would drive. She seemed particularly mellow.
As we headed out of town, Becky curled up in the passenger seat and confirmed what I already suspected.
“Well, it’s final,” she said. “Greg’s dad and I are breaking up, and I’m going to take a job in Spain. I’m excited about it, but I’m also sad.”
For the next 50 miles or so, Becky filled me in on the situation. Greg and his father would be moving away, too. Somewhere in London. Considering how ebullient Becky usually was, she seemed withdrawn during our drive. But when we reached a town more than an hour from ours, she pulled herself together and suggested we have something to eat. We stopped and had sandwiches at a café, which was attached to a hotel, and as she paid the bill and we started to leave, Becky took me by the hand and silently led me to the reception, where she secured a room. I had an idea about what was about to happen, but I just couldn’t believe it. I mean, sure, I’d fantasized about it happening, but that was all it was. A fantasy.
Inside the hotel room, I closed the door behind us, and for the first time, I was alone, really alone, with the hottest-looking woman, old or young, I had ever seen.
Becky stood in the middle of the room, looking somewhat forlorn.
“Well, you know enough of the story now, and I don’t want to try to explain any more. I just need some human contact right now. With you.”
Becky slipped off her stylish denim jacket and slowly unbuttoned her white, linen blouse while I stood transfixed. She laid the blouse on a chair and stepped out of her snug-fitting jeans and was left wearing nothing but a bra and panties. Naturally, my heart was pounding, and my 18-year-old cock was straining to get out of my jeans.
I finally snapped out of my haze and started tearing off my own clothes as Becky sat on the edge of the bed and removed her bra, letting her full, dark-nippled tits spill out. We slid under the covers together as soon as I stumbled out of my socks.
She immediately came into my arms and murmured, “I want you to understand…” but her voice trailed off as her brown nipples hardened against my chest and her hand groped for my cock, which by this time wasn’t hard to find.
Let me say right now that Becky’s tits, especially her nipples, were just about more than I could handle. For all of her light-on-her-toes, former-cheerleader-like bounciness, Becky’s breasts were full and heavy. Her nipples, which appeared almost black against her skin in the dark hotel room, were erect and hard, much stiffer than I’d ever felt on any girl my own age…not that I’d had all that much experience. Long and turgid, her nipples scraped along my chest and belly as she moved down to take my cock in her mouth.
The first tentative touch of her tongue on my cock made my hips jerk, and she cooed appreciatively before licking all around and sucking gently on the sensitive underside of my cock. Then, with a deep sigh, Becky lowered her mouth over my entire length, swallowing me until the head of my cock was lodged against the back of her throat. She stayed there for a moment, gently sucking but otherwise barely moving, getting used to my cock.
By now, of course, I could have easily blown my load at the slightest nudge, but Becky suddenly stopped and slid her mouth off my cock and her body back up along mine.
“Oh, that’s sweet, I’m counting on you and your young cock to satisfy me and keep on satisfying me tonight. It will be our farewell celebration.” She gripped my balls with one hand and stroked my cock with the other. “I want to make you cum fast the first time so you’ll be steadier later on. Okay?” she said. I nodded, and Becky moved back down to my cock and gave me a better blow job than anybody-especially a sexually inexperienced 18-year-old guy like myself-had any reason to expect. Still with a firm grasp on my tender balls, she took me all the way down her throat again and resumed the gentle sucking that had almost caused me to blow my load a few minutes before. I was in heaven and could only buck my hips and moan. Then she slowly came up off my cock, reached up and pinched my nipple hard as she gently jacked me off into her mouth and onto her breasts. My cock pulsed and pulsed. With my jizz running down her lips, she whispered in my ear, “That was a good start.”
We lay there for a while, panting, my cum starting to dry on her face and breasts. And she was right. Before long, my cock started to stir again, and I was ready to give her back some of the pleasure she had given me.
Of course, I was pretty awkward, but she guided my mouth down to her pussy with its full, rich bush. Becky spread her legs and urged me to lick her cunt.
“Slowly,” she said. “Savor it slowly.”
I was amazed at how wet and open her pussy lips were. I licked, then licked again, deeper. Her juice was delicious and tangy, and my tongue discovered her clit, which was as full and firm as her nipples were.
Becky placed her hands on either side of my head and guided my tongue from her asshole to her belly button and back again. She shuddered uncontrollably every time my tongue grazed her clit. With my face buried in her crotch, I grasped her round hips and pulled her body against my mouth, sending her into an orgasm that shook the bed.
She pulled me up to her face and kissed me, and I realized she had tears in her eyes. She grabbed my cock and slid it into her sopping pussy. I responded instinctively and shoved my length as far as it could go, bumping against her cervix. The sensation made me grow even harder, despite my own recent orgasm.
We fucked hard, almost as if we were angry, breathing hard, flesh slapping against flesh, her juices gushing along my cock. I’d never experienced anything like it. I pounded into her, and she responded to every move.
Then she rolled me off onto my back and straddled me, running my cock back into her pussy as she rode me, her full tits bouncing, her nipples erect.
She screamed, “Come on, cum in me! Cum all the way in me!”
And I did. For the second time in less than 30 minutes, I fired off a bolt of hot cum, drenching the walls of her pussy. She shivered in ecstasy, tits jiggling like jelly, and collapsed on my chest.
“Oh,” she said, moaning softly.
We dozed off after that, and I awoke to the realization that Becky was in the shower. I got up and joined her. My best friend’s mother’s body was fantastic. Her generous tits glowed pink with sex and hot water. Her belly and hips exuded sensuousness. She turned around and pressed her ass into my crotch.
“Will you fuck me from behind when we get back into bed?” she asked.
Hell, I was ready to fuck her from behind right there, but before I knew it, she had hopped out of the shower and sprawled out wet and naked on the bed. I dropped to my knees behind her and began kissing her full, round ass. She raised herself slightly to give me better access. I spread her ass cheeks and nuzzled her pussy from behind.
Becky wiggled her ass and said, “Ooh, I like that,” and shoved her pussy against my face.
I continued my tongue action from behind and soon caught her clit. Becky went wild and came furiously, spilling cunt juice all over my face.
“Oh, God, that was great,” she said, gasping. “I just knew you were what I needed tonight.”
She turned and lowered her mouth onto my cock, humming as she sucked me to full erection. Then she turned around again and said, “I still want it from behind. Why don’t you fuck me in the ass? We could both use it.”
At my young age, this was certainly new to me, but I was up for anything Becky wanted, and she knew it.
She reached into her purse and came up with a tube of gel, which she proceeded to massage onto my cock. It was cool and smooth and had me primed in no time. Then Becky turned and applied more gel to her asshole.
“Come on,” she urged. “It will be good.”
Positioning myself behind her, I grabbed Becky’s hips and watched my swollen cock tease the area around her asshole. She squirmed until she sort of caught the end of my dick between her ass cheeks, then rocked back with a deep moan, impaling her tight hole on my rod.
In my inexperience, I couldn’t imagine how I would fit into her little back door. But I suddenly realized that the tip of my cock was in her ass, and the tight, cool sensation was incredibly wonderful.
“Come on, baby, fuck my ass,” she said as she rammed her butt back onto my cock, taking me at least three inches into her tight hole.
I instinctively pushed forward, and before I knew it, I was rammed all the way into her tight hole. My hips shook with excitement. She met every one of my thrusts until I was pistoning in and out of her, my hard dick disappearing repeatedly into her asshole.
Our passion mounted until I reached down to probe her pussy with my fingers and discovered she already had one hand in her pussy and the other on her clit and was rubbing away. That did it for me. I fired yet another hot load of cum into her body and collapsed.
After that night, I didn’t see Becky again for a long time. As planned, she divorced Greg’s father and took that translation job in Spain. Greg and his dad left for London, and I went off to University. Greg and I talked to each other now and then, but I never saw him again. The truth was, after fucking his mother-in the ass, no less!-I felt kind of funny talking to him. But I didn’t feel the same way about Becky. Although we were far apart and never saw each other, we talked every six months or so on the phone, and I could still feel the connection between us.
Ten years later, I was living back where I grew up when Becky phoned, told me she was going to be in town and suggested we get together for dinner. I said yes, of course. I wasn’t going out with anybody, had never been married, and still held a place in my heart for Becky.
Even after an entire decade, I was not disappointed when I saw her. Becky was now in her early 50s, and she looked better than ever. When she walked into the restaurant, she exuded class and style and sexuality. I suppose she had put on a few pounds, but they just made her figure more splendid than ever.
Instead of the short shorts and tank tops I remember from my teenage years, she was wearing a sleek skirt and a blouse with a plunging neckline that revealed her luscious cleavage. My cock was half-hard all the way through dinner.
“I’m only here for a week, then I’m going back,” she said.
Becky didn’t even say anything about Greg or her ex-husband, and I didn’t ask. We chatted through dinner, and after dessert, she put down her fork and said, “Do you remember our night together?”
“How could I forget?” I said. “It’s one of the greatest memories of my life. I think you…” I was about to tell her that she’d spoiled me for other women, but I didn’t want her to know that. Instead, I said, “I think about you all the time.”
“Do you think I’m too old now to fuck?” she asked.
What a question, and me with a boner that would not be suppressed!
“Why don’t you let me show you,” I said, softly.
The next thing I knew, we were back at my apartment, and I was sitting in an easy chair watching Becky do a slow strip tease for me. Her tits, with their dark nipples, had become even more appealing. Her belly was smooth and inviting. Her hips were full and round. As she dropped her last garment, she turned slowly and gave me a slow, good look at her ass with its deep cleavage. By this time, I had shed most of my clothes, and I knelt behind her, kissing and fondling her ass cheeks, reaching around to sink my fingers in her rich auburn bush.
We fell onto my bed, and Becky spread her legs wantonly as I went down on her. I savored her musky smell, which, I suddenly realized, I vividly recalled from a decade before. She bucked her hips as I traced my tongue the entire length of her pussy and from her asshole to her clit to her deep belly button.
I had to show her how I felt, so I rose and plunged my hard cock into her pussy, all the way in one smooth stroke. The feeling of her vaginal sheath grasping my cock was heavenly, but I knew I wanted to eat her some more, and I knew she wanted it, too.
After withdrawing my throbbing cock, I brought my mouth and tongue back into play, concentrating on her stiff clit while I inserted one finger, then two, into the pussy where my cock had just been. That sent Becky over the top, and she groaned and bucked through a hot orgasm.
“Oh, God, you eat me so well,” she said, breathlessly. Then she grasped her knees and lifted her legs, lewdly exposing her backside and her puckered asshole. “Please, please, eat my ass. Put your hot mouth on my asshole.”
How could I refuse? As Becky held her legs wide, I licked my way from her clit back down to her tight, brown hole. I teased the whole area with the tip of my tongue, then plunged it into her hole. Becky thrashed wildly, begging, “Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!”
I’d gotten a lot more sophisticated sexually in the 10 years since we’d first been together, but this was definitely something new, and I’ll tell you right now, I liked it. The sensation of her pulsating asshole against my tongue touched something deep inside me, and I went at it with relish, alternately thrusting my tongue into her hole and vigorously licking her entire crotch.
In the process we both squirmed around until she had her hand on my aching cock and was stroking me like a madwoman. Then, before I knew it, we were in a 69, with me licking her from clit to asshole while she sucked my cock.
Naturally, I was going out of my mind with lust while she groaned in ecstasy. But Becky wasn’t done yet. She maneuvered further down and around until she was licking my asshole as I was licking hers. It was an anal 69, and I’d never experienced anything like it before. I could hardly believe this was the 50something-year-old mother of my old best friend.
It was clear that this fine woman was ready for my hard cock in her pussy and ass. While retaining her grip on my rod, she maneuvered onto all fours and guided my cock into her incredibly wet pussy and proceeded to cum quick and hard. I swear, I thought she was going to pass out.
But Becky could fuck like no girl my own age. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. After taking all the cock action she could in her pussy, she shifted slightly and redirected my dick to her asshole. No lube this time. Just straight up her ass, hard and deep. She was screaming so loud, I figured the neighbours must be able to hear.
Meanwhile, I was more turned on than ever before in my life. My rock-hard cock plunged repeatedly into her dark-brown hole. Her ass shook under my thrusts. She could tell I was ready to blow, and she wanted to reward me. Like a porn star, she deftly maneuvered around, grabbed my cock and started jerking me off, smoothly but ferociously. It was all too much for me to take. With a deep groan, I came so hard, it almost hurt, and sprayed her face and lips with a huge load of cum. She let my cum roll down her lips and onto her tits, where she rubbed it in like lotion, making her hard nipples shine in the semi-darkness.
“Just like old times,” she said.
“Better,” I said, and it was true: Becky had gotten better with age. I wondered if there were any other women out there like her, and although I was pretty sure there were (could I have been the only guy who was so lucky?), I really didn’t want any other woman. I wanted her.
We collapsed in each other’s arms and slept for hours. Then, at dawn, I was awakened by the unmistakable sensation of my dick being sucked. Becky had been up and showered and was nearly dressed, except that her tits were still exposed.
She was bobbing her head on my rapidly growing member, and she seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was. She took deep gulps, all the way down to my balls, making love to my cock, not just sucking it. Before I knew it, I had blown yet another load, and this time she took it straight down with a swallow. “Just something to remember you by,” she said in a husky voice. “I’ll taste you during the whole plane ride back to Spain.” She kissed me wetly on the mouth, buttoned her blouse and was out the door before I could even collect my thoughts. I really don’t know what I was thinking, just that I’d let the best fuck I’d ever known walk out the door.
I haven’t seen Becky again since then, at least not in the flesh. We talk on the phone, of course, and recently, I got a letter from her from France, along with four photos of her relaxing on the beach in the nude, looking just as I’d imagined she’d look in my teenage fantasies. She must be pushing 60 by now, and she looks better than ever, and judging from her words in that letter, she’s as horny as ever. Those pictures and that letter are among my most treasured possessions, and I can’t wait to experience the real thing once again.
Has anyone out there ever fucked a 60something MILF?