Measuring up to the MILF
written by:
Chris-t6290

Story outline: After overhearing a conversation between her son, Robert, and one of his friends, regarding the attributes of another one of her son's friends, Alison Dunbar, not one to regard herself as a MILF, by any means, decided to see just how Michael measured up!

Big dicks! I dare say most women are fascinated by them, while for those like me, separated or single, that's generally all we fantasise about. A nice long cock pumping its length between our lips, either, and spurting the contents of its owners sweaty balls into our receptive bodies. A fantasy I've had to resort to many times over and with young men, those about the same age as my teenage son, Robert, or just out of their teens.

Of course, I've heard the terms MILF and cougar for a woman such as that would be, if I were to act upon my fantasies. However, I content myself, instead, to making sure my son doesn't get himself or a girl into trouble, as had happened to me.

I must just say, I certainly look quite young for my 35 years. Wavy blonde hair - all my own -blue eyes, but no bimbo; having scored 96% on my SAT's. Of course, and being expectant with my son at 17, I had to give uni' a miss.

Where was I? Ah yes, big dicks. I even joined an on-line dating service. I wasn't, at my age, looking for a concrete relationship, just something, or someone to relieve the frustration that had built up and was gnawing away at my insides ever since George had left. His cock wasn't just big, but he knew what to do with it. However, Jenny, a local young slut, had tempted his big dick away. I got some relief from the few men I arranged to meet up with. Most of them, though, just wanted me to be filthy, as far as sex went. ‘Had I, only being with my teenage crush, father of my son and husband, missed one or more generations of sexual discovery,' I wondered to myself, what with them wanting to put their big dicks in my tight virgin ass.

All of that, feeling confident enough to meet up with total strangers, took a while to bring about. I went into it with the expectancy of meeting a guy in a wine bar or nightclub and then seeing how things went. Eventually, more recently, I pulled back from the on-line dating service, once more leaving me frustrated and needy; very needy.

It was two weeks ago. A warm sunny day, just like today. As I was doing some housework after my lunch, my thoughts kept going back to what I had read on one of the computer monitors at the local library where I work mornings to help pay bills and the like. Someone, whether it was a prank or an oversight, had left the text from a sexually explicit story on the screen. As I went to guide the mouse pointer to close the offending page down, my eyes caught: ‘Big cock!'

A tremor of lust shivered up my spine and my needy clit responded. Just the mention of cock, dick prick, wang, boner, accompanied by ‘big', was enough to set my heart racing, my thoughts envisaging a big dick, my clit throbbing and my pussy weeping. I quickly read as much as I dared, almost committing the graphic text to memory before I closed the page down.

With each thought, as I continued with the housework, I projected what I had read onto my mind's eye and once more stirred the same parts of my body. By 3pm, my clit was straining for release and relief; my thong felt soaked, not just moist while the distended tip of my clit rubbed against the gusset. Robert was due to be home shortly and so I left the remainder of the cleaning and quickly went to my bedroom for some relief.

Laid on my bed with my blue skirt pooled around my slender, 26-inch waist and my damp thong urgently drawn to one side, I began stroking my hardened clit. ‘Ooo fuck, yes,' I moaned, imagining what I had read: ‘That's it, fill me up with your big dick, all the way, yes, get that big fucker inside me.'

‘God, that is big,' my thoughts urged my mind to repeat.

"Mom's out. No doubt doing some shopping. We can watch it on my computer," I heard the distinct voice of my son say; no doubt to whichever one of his friends he had brought home with him.

Doing my best to ignore them from the bedroom next to mine, I went back to recalling the story; mostly the girl encouraging the big dick to fuck her hard and rough. As I continued to thrum my clit, fingers of my other hand darted in and out of my warm wet pussy with determination. I was just about to cum when, and from Robert's bedroom, I heard, ‘big dick'; well, just the mention of it...!

I immediately stopped and quickly tuned out my prior thoughts and subsequently listened.

"Michael's is bigger. It's as long as John Holmes was. Here, I'll show you," Robert exclaimed, my fingers, all the same, ideally stroking my clit while those that had been in my pussy had moved up under my summer top and were, even then, pulling on my left nipple.

‘Emn, John Holmes. What a big dick he had,' I recalled. I'd found my parents sex videos one day, and being 16 and inquisitive as to why the six tapes weren't with the others, I watched some of the one that had a collection of short clips on it. I suppose, in retrospect, it was very much that particular video that turned me onto ‘big dicks'.

"Michael's that big!" his friend exclaimed, in wonder.

"Sure is. According to Amanda, she measured it before and after she'd taken as much of it as she could manage into her mouth," Robert informed him.

"Not one for deep throating him, then," his friend somewhat sniggered.

Although I hadn't, as yet, met Michael, I quickly supplanted the legendary JCH with what I imagined Michael looked like. Short dark hair, piercing brown eyes, a good physique as opposed to well-toned muscular types and a big cock, one that, even part erect and under his control, hung down to a point just above his knees.

‘That's it, fuck me, Michael, drill me with your big dick,' my mind urged as my fingers stroked my clit with alacrity and my nipple throbbed under the strained pleasure of being pinched and pulled. Moments before I came, and not wanting Robert to hear my pleasured cries, I managed to bite on my lower lip; I released a low, muffled moan all the same.

I dipped my fingers in my wet sex and dwelled on the warmth they sensed. My breathing was deep as I continued to imagine the big hard dick of Michael's thrusting deep into me. As I came out of my euphoric state, I vaguely heard Robert suggest going to the mall for something; maybe someone, even.

I knew, once they had left, I just had to see how Michael ‘measured up' for myself. Only to realise I had no means of contacting him let alone what he looked like. In the meantime, though, I stole into my son's bedroom. I just had to see the video he had shown his friend.

‘Damn!' I exclaimed. It's password protected. Impatiently, I looked through my son's draws for some indication as to what it could be. ‘Hello!' I enthused, having found what looked like a ‘black book' under some larger ones. Upon opening it up, I noticed it was an address book. Unhesitantly, I thumbed the ‘m & n' section with my sticky fingers and read the names; several, in fact. Mary, Mindy, Maggie, each name accompanied by a cellphone number and a star rating; ‘4*' mostly. At the bottom of the page, I read Michael ‘12*' then his phone number.

‘Is that what I think it means,' I wondered, my fingers, as I held the book in my left hand and committed the phone number to memory, idly stroking my clit, which had reacted to my perception - 12 inches.

Having quickly returned the book, and exactly as I had found it, I closed the draw and subsequently turned off my son's PC; all the while reciting Michael's phone number rather than be distracted by the length of his boner.

My diary, unlike Robert's book, was locked. I turned to the satin bookmark and wrote down Michael's name and phone number. I decided to wait awhile, maybe a day or two, at least until the following weekend before I called him under some pretext. I then returned to the lounge, put away the spray and duster, and saw about getting our tea sorted out - pork chops, oven potatoes and vegetables with gravy.

Eventually, and having worked out in my head a reason for calling, I summoned up the nerve to phone Michael.

"Hi, this is Michael," he intoned, and in a pleasant, friendly voice.

"Yes, it's Alison Dunbar, Robert's mother," I introduced myself. There were several moments of silence. Michael was either fathoming out who I was or why I would be calling.

"How did you get my number, Alison?" he enquired; Michael's tone quite friendly considering.

"I have a note of his friend's phone numbers; in case I need to get in touch with him," I explained.

"I see. Well, he's definitely not here, Mrs Dunbar. Now, Alison, why did you really call me," Michael averred, A shiver ran up my spine at the tone of his voice, it was as if he was glaring at me in a lurid way.

"I, emn," was all I could utter.

"You've heard, haven't you. The legend is true," he intoned, ever confident. "$10 for 60 minutes," he subsequently exclaimed. I was even more speechless then.

"Just kidding, just..." Michael immediately assured me. That was some relief. For the moment, there...!

"Not here, though, your place," I told him, having he broken the ice and any nerves I had felt. I did, though, resist enquiring of his formidable size, wanting to see it for myself, maybe even, as Amanda had done, measure it.

Michael gave me his address and then told me to come over that very afternoon at 3pm and to wear something sexy. Lingerie of some sort, by his sexy tone of voice. Well, since it would be for my pleasure...!

Looking in the draw where I kept my underwear, I managed to find an unopened pack of black lace top hold ups. I wasn't one, never had been, for a garter belt. I needed to change my thong, though, as it was noticeably damp; Michael's voice, in fact, his whole tone and demeanour had made me noticeably wet, which would be just as well, if ‘the legend', as he put it, was true.

I decided on a maroon bra with lace cups that just about covered my hard nipples and a matching thong with lace over the gusset. I then sprayed some floral scent in all the right places and subsequently stepped into a pale yellow skirt, one that had a slit half way up the left side, even though it was loose fitting. For a top, I chose a cream blouse that had large buttons and pointed collars that extended down to a point that displayed the swell of my 38C breasts; not enough, mind, for my bra to be noticed. I completed my look with a pair of black slingbacks that had a five-inch heel and then checked my whole ensemble in my wardrobe mirror. ‘Hot and sassy,' was my immediate reaction, one I accompanied with a pleasant smile at what lay ahead for me that very afternoon.

Collecting my bag, which already had my house keys and purse inside it I then dropped in a tape measure and closed it up. Yes, I know, I would need to open it in order to set the locks on the front door, and with that done, I was soon taking a short bus ride to the address Michael had given me. Upon arriving outside, there were two doors next to one another, a suggestion that he lived in either an upstairs or ground level apartment; they being split.

‘It certainly isn't his parents,' I realised to myself, as I opened the gate and then walked along a loose pebble pathway; my shoes making a scrunching noise with each firm step I took.

‘No backing out now,' I told myself, as I extended my index finger towards the bell push and pressed it. As I waited for Michael to answer, I looked around.

"You're here, then!" he exclaimed.

"Oo!" I rejoined, his quick presence taking me by surprise and making me jump; quite unlike me.

"Yes, Alison Dunbar, Robert's mother," I intoned, introducing myself.

"I must say, quite sexy, you look," Michael commended me on my attire, even though his words seemed as disjointed as those of the green skinned character from Star Wars.

Michael looked young, almost my son's age. Either way, he was old enough for what we wanted to do. Michael was almost as I envisaged he was: Short dark hair, soft hazel eyes and, from what I could make out of his clothed physique, not bad; not bad at all. His fawn trousers gave nothing away while his red t-shirt hung from his strong shoulders.

"Are you going to invite me in, or...!" Indicating doing it outside.

"There's a park nearby," Michael rejoined, before smiling and stepping back.

I waited in the hallway ahead of him. Then, when he closed the door and turned around, I couldn't not only wait but I couldn't stop myself. He'd told me when to call and I'd arrived on time, so why waste any with idle chat. I wanted his cock, I wanted to see his cock, to taste it in my mouth, feel how big it was and...would it be too big.

My pussy was wet before I got changed, it was even wetter from my contemplative thoughts on the bus ride, and I dare say Michael would make it even more wetter before he rammed his big cock between my spread thighs; and they'd have to be spread wide if I were to take him fully inside me.

I dropped my bag and immediately wrapped my arms around him. Our mouths met, our lips mashed against each other and soon parted as hot wet tongues explored the others warm sanctuary. I moved my tongue with his, and as our tongues danced together, the warmth and wetness intensified.

"Hurmn," I moaned and murmured, not wanting the moment to end, even though I wanted something more solid than his tongue between my lips and in my mouth.

Letting me up for air, I gasped as he turned me around so that I was facing the wall. Michael then took both of my hands and placed them, palm down, so that my fingers were above level with my head.

"You want the big dick, don't you, Alison."

"Emn, yes," I vaguely panted, my head turned to the left while my mind wondered what was next.

"A slit," he noticed of my skirt, and then drew it up to see my ass which projected quite shapely above my thighs.

Leaving it there and staring into my eyes, which were transfixed to his, I sensed Michael's right hand smooth over my exposed flesh. I then felt him take it away and then whack! His cupped hand making contact with my buttock.

"Hurmn," I responded. It was swift, it made contact, but, and because of his cupped hand, it was noticeably pleasurable.

"There'll be more, soon, and, Alison, you'll enjoy it even more," Michael informed me, before lowering my skirt and standing behind me. He then, because of the loose fit of my skirt and the slit, drew up the front hem and tucked it in the waistband. I then felt Michael's humid right hand, the one he had just used to chastise my left ass cheek and make it warm, slide along my thigh and then come to rest on my wet thong.

"You seem like the kind of woman that likes having her pussy touched," he said, and with that, and before I could utter a reply, I felt Michael's hand cup my warm wet humid mound.

"Yes, emn," I moaned, as, what with Michael remaining agonizingly still, I presently gyrated myself.

"Touch me, please. Oh god, I want to, I need to cum," I urged more than pleaded, only for Michael to withdraw his right hand and soon replace it with his left. He then took a pace to the left and, with the hand on my mound, drew my damp thong to the side and exposed my pussy and clit.

"Hurmn," I let out a contented moan, just as the back hem of my skirt was similarly drawn up. That time, though, a folded amount was tucked inside my waistband.

"Hurmmmn," I lowly languidly murmured, when I felt Michael's fingers slip inside my dowsed pussy. My reaction, of course, was immediate.

"Hurgh," came the cry from my lips, one that followed the sound of his hand slapping my right ass cheek, the mild force enough to jolt me onto his fingers. Again he slapped my ass cheeks, each time driving me forward onto his ever more warm wet fingers until, and even after I climaxed, my thighs trembled from the aftershock.

"Huh, huh, huh, you've made, huh, you've made me, huh, cum," I gasped and exclaimed; Michael's fingers content to massage the inner folds of my pussy while he smoothed his warm hand over my equally warm redden ass.

"You like that I made you cum," Michael intoned, his voice full of confidence in that he had.

"Yes, emn, of course. Keep that up, stroke my clit also and you'll have me cumming again for you," I rejoined; hopeful that Michael would take the hint, which he immediately did.

"Ah, yes," I moaned, when I felt his hand, having left my ass, lightly touch my engorged clit, which Michael then began stroking. Even in that, he was skilful, building up the momentum into a pleasurable crescendo, my pussy juices bathing his fingers as they continued to massage my inner folds.

Moments later, I felt the long fingers of his right hand move to draw me open. ‘How fucking big is it,' my head, almost a daze having cum so hard, mused. Whether or not it was by way of an answer, I had six, that's right, six of Michael's fingers inside me.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck!" I exclaimed, as they pulled me ever open.

Although my hands had remained where they were - throughout my pleasured chastisement and thereafter - I subsequently drew them down and undid the first two buttons of my blouse. It was enough for what I wanted and I soon had the lace cups of my bra pulled back. My fingers and thumbs then jointly worked together to roll, squeeze and pull on my hard, erect nipples.

"Huh, huh, hurmn," I gasped and moaned, as the pleasure/pain of my nipples merged with that of my pussy being invaded by Michael's six fingers, which I somehow fucked myself on. Indeed, our combined attention was enough to urge me onto a second climax. Subsequently, and as my body quivered, shook and trembled, Michael, having withdrawn his cum soaked fingers from my drenched pussy, left me to slide down the wall and compose myself. He wasn't just good; Michael was fan-fucking-tastic.

Genuflecting in front of my almost heaped body, he gazed at me momentarily. Michael then put one arm under the folds of my knees while the other supported my back. Realising what he intended, I hooked my left arm around Michael's neck and then he lifted himself and me up. From there, he then carried me a short distance along the hallway before turning left and into his lounge. ‘You don't have to carry me,' I said; he'd done enough for me already and I so wanted to return his attention.

The lounge was very much as I expected for a bachelor pad, a clear indication it was Michael's. A maroon sofa and two matching armchairs covered in vinyl or some other such fabric; certainly not leather, I noticed when he set me down. ‘Thank-you—for everything...so far,' I commended him, adding an appreciative smile, while my hand, the one around his shoulder, lingered on Michael's arm.

"A drink, before we continue," he proffered. I nodded, and left it up to him; Michael had done a pretty excellent job so far.

A large flat screen TV hung on the wall opposite. Below that there was a glass front cabinet with a home entertainment system of some kind on each of the three shelves. To the right of the unit, there was a book case with, from what I could make out of one bold titled spine, several books about sex and others that weren't so clear on one shelf, a selection of DVD's on two more shelves and CD's on three others. There was no noticeable hi-fi among the units below the TV, but then most people would probably use a DVD player for CD's as do I.

"There, you go, Alison, try that," Michael intoned, as he handed me a glass with clear liquid in it. A vodka tonic, I subsequently noticed, both from the smell and eventual taste.

"Thank-you, again," I said, before taking a sip and then placing my glass on the low round table that was situated to my left.

"You know, Michael, you're quite attentive, quite the host," I began; the drink helping me summon up the necessary courage for what I wanted to say. "But, and we both know that's not why I'm here," I intoned.

"How about if I take that big hot throbbing wet, juicy, dripping cock of yours, put it in my mouth deep throat it and then jam it all the way down my throat!"

For the next, how ever many moments, Michael was dumbstruck. ‘Had I been too bold with my innuendo. Had I come on too strong, even for his liking?'

"It's big. You sure you can handle a big one, Alison," he exclaimed.

"So I've heard, and yes," I rejoined, before taking another sip of my drink.

"Long, and big!" exclaimed Michael, apprising me of the girth. I had to stop myself from spluttering at his revelation and even then, I almost coughed after I'd swallowed my drink.

"It is, you are," I rejoined.

"When do I get to see it?" I intoned, having caught my breath afterwards.

"All in good time; all in good time, Alison. That, out in the hallway, that was just a sample, an appetizer, you could say," the young confident man glared at me.

"It was, gulp! It was," I couldn't help myself repeat, as Michael moved both his hands and himself towards me - my body rigid with the expectation of how next this self-assured young man would pleasure me.

Although the lace cups of my bra had somehow rolled back to cover my tits, Michael, no doubt noticing my distended nipples soon had my blouse undone and my bra unsnapped. ‘Nice, quite perky,' my host commended, as he supported each with his warm, humid palms; his fingertips sticky from having made me cum so much.

Again, I moved my lips to kiss him, only for Michael to lower his mouth and smooch the swell of each mound in turn. From there, he extended his tongue and licked around the dark areola of my left and then right breast. When, on the odd occasion, his warm moist tongue grazed the nipple, I drew in my breath with a sigh; my pussy feeling the result and my clit urgently responding to the additional pleasure of his hands as they fondled each warm pulsating globe. ‘I wonder if I'll get his thick length between them,' I mused. ‘His cock was apparently long enough for me to suck on if he did,' I couldn't help but think to myself.

With what he was doing, and so fucking well with it, it was mere moments before I needed to cum. Michael's hands were tied up with pleasuring me, and so, since mine were idle, I moved my hand down and was soon stroking my hard sticky clit.

"That's it, more, make me cum, Michael," I appealed to him as my fingers agitated my sheathed stalk with the needed alacrity to bring about a pleasured climax.

Immediately, his lips were around my left nipple. With the hard bud encased in his mouth, Michael flicked his tongue tip around and over the sensitive nodule, tantalising more than teasing me and sending a pleasurable sensation coursing all the way down to my distended clit.

"Oh, oh, fuck. Yes, yes, fuck YES!" I cried out, my body jerking and jolting spasmodically as my climax washed through me; Michael still ministering to my tits and nipple while my sticky fingers uncontrollably thrummed my clit. What with him grasping my breasts, I was unable to collapse, even if I had need to.

"My pussy, now, eat it for me," I urged, and soon had my skirt undone.

"You're ‘cunt' don't you mean," Michael exclaimed, adding substance to ‘that' word. In all my life, I had never called it that; similarly, I hadn't the nerve to approach men. That day was one to make changes, break down barriers, I realised.

"Yes, my wet cunt! And, Michael, do a good job for me," I trilled, and then lay back for him, my shoulders resting on a cushion against the armrest.

Having grasped my legs with one hand, Michael managed to draw my damp thong over my shapely ass. He then lowered me back down and, using both hands, continued to slide the lace garment along my legs and off over my shoes. He then drew my feet wide apart, enough that the right one was vertical against the backrest while the other he hung over the edge of the sofa; the shoe subsequently falling off having been part loosened when he removed my panties.

Beginning from the exposed flesh of each of my humid thighs, I first felt Michael's warm sensuous kisses, which were followed by that of his tongue licking what I guessed were my cum juices. All the same, the lovely teasing bastard skirted around my puffy mound, which was covered by fine blonde hairs; I not being one for grooming myself down there.

"You're not shaved," he mentioned, and for the first time; Michael having already felt me up and with six of his fingers.

"Emmn, less talk, more dining," I intoned, and moved my left hand from pleasuring my breast to that of his head.

"Hur, herm," I moaned and squirmed, as he got ever nearer to where I wanted and needed his tongue. Before that, though, Michael used his thumbs to partially draw apart my cunt lips and open me up, much like that of an oyster, to look inside. I then felt his reshaped tongue tip slide along the moist channel of my pussy; up and then down, then up and down my moist flesh some more.

I resisted stroking my clit, what with me pulling my nipples in turn and Michael licking my pussy the way he was. Along with all that had gone before, it wasn't long before my next orgasm overwhelmed me. With my eyelids closed, it was one of those where sparkles of different coloured lights danced in front of my eyes.

"Fuck, yes, fuck me with your tongue, fuck me with..." But, and before I could complete my erotic encouragements: "Oh fuck, yes, yes, fuck YES!"

With my body still recovering from its euphoric state, Michael replaced his tongue with his fingers. However, instead of moving to my demanding clit, he ventured lower. His tongue grazed my perineum, the small area of flesh between my pussy and anus where it soon settled and dithered.

"Oh fuck, oh yes, emn, that's naughty," I intoned, almost giggling like a schoolgirl.

"And," he said, though not questioningly.

"Don't stop on my account," I rejoined, and gave into whatever pleasure he wanted to impart, which, since his fingers were heavily wet, Michael trailed down to my anus and, after some fumbling, easily slid one then a second finger into my tight opening. When he came to add the third, his mouth was around my stalk; the entire length, in fact.

"God, when I said eat me, you certainly, oh fuck, yes, took me literally," I extolled; Michael's tongue flicking the tip of my sensitive clit, which, and with his mouth, he had somehow managed to pop out.

Still rolling my hard nipples as Michael did absolute wonders to my clit and finger fucked my pussy and ass, albeit the later with his fingertips, he once more had me cumming.

"I'll cum out, if you keep that up, young man," I affirmed.

From the puzzled look on Michael's face, having he raised his head, his lips and chin covered in a heavy sheen of my cum juices, I elucidated: "I mean, you'll make me cum so much, that I won't be able to...!" intimating any more; well, men can only cum so much, so...

"Don't worry, Alison, you'll have plenty of time to recover, I assure you," Michael intoned, and it went without saying what he meant by it; I'd at last be able to get to grips with his big long dick.

"After that, and hopefully, you'll be able to take it, Mrs Dunbar, I'm going to fuck you senseless," Michael informed me.

"You better had, young man. And, Michael, call me Alison," I insisted, and awaited the revelation I had been longing for. Not quite the unveiling of a statue, as there would not be an appreciative crowd to see it. Just me, and I was certainly full of appreciation and more, for Michael's statuesque erection, and that's before it had been unveiled.

"Before that, though, let's have..." And without saying another word, Michael sat me up and fully unbuttoned my blouse, which he then removed along with that of my other shoe. His reason for leaving my hold ups on, I figured, was so that I could wrap them around his waist and urge his big dick to fuck me, which I certainly had every intention of doing. ‘Damn! My bag's still by the door where I'd dropped it,' I realised, in the tranquil few moments that Michael undressed me.

"I just need something...my bag," I hesitated, only to realise I had nowhere on my person to hide the tape measure; certainly not where his dick would eventually be going. All the same, I quickly went and got it.

Upon returning to the lounge, Michael had not only moved the armchair nearest the door against the wall, but he was stood on it with his legs against the backrest. ‘Quite commendable,' I thought, especially considering what men tend to expect of women, which is to kneel on the floor; although Michael's carpet, as I mentioned, was and looked to be deep piled.

Once again I dropped my bag, although, this time, it was in preference for something more solid; Michael's long big cock. Within no time at all, I was knelt on the armchair in front of him. ‘Slow down,' he tempered my impatience, as I struggled with the belt of his fawn hue chino's. After I had taken some long deep calming breaths, I placed a hand on the buckle and soon managed to slide the tongue back through it with my other hand. I then, just as calmly, undid the button and subsequently drew down the nylon zip before pushing back the open sides of Michael's trousers, which I slid over his butt. I had only lowered them a few inches when the bulge in his pants rustled like a snake - what with its esteemed length and thickness, it pretty well much was.

Lower I drew them, all the while fixing my attention on the contents of Michael's Calvin Klein's. ‘Was it neatly folded,' I wondered to myself, and soon had Michael's chino's around his ankles. Averting my gaze, I subsequently had my host's trainers undone and removed along with his trousers. ‘This is it,' I told myself, ‘moment of truth,' I realised, as I slowly traced my hands up and along Michael's almost smooth legs, which, unlike when mine are touched, brought no noticeable response from him.

At that point, my mind was immersed with just one thought, that of seeing and experiencing Michael's big cock. So it was, that, rather than pull down his pants, I moved my hands onto the cotton material his manliness was encased in and then felt for and around the warm form.

Not quite firm, I noticed, however, there was, nonetheless, certainly plenty of it. Recalling what Michael had done to my clit, I smoothed my lips around the warm bulge; the heat it generated was quite intense.

"Emn," I repeatedly moaned and murmured, as I smooched the shaft through his Calvin Klein's for quite some while. Eventually, though, and still brushing the thick formed bulge with my warm lips, I extended my hands and slowly rolled down Michael's pants; over his hips until, and having unpursed my lips, they were below my chin. ‘Slap,' went his cock when it hit me full in the face. ‘This, I've just got to see,' I regaled inside.

Having already reached my right hand to grasp and steady Michael's erection, I drew back on my haunches. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had never seen a cock so big. It was beautiful. My mouth watered as I admired the bulbous head and the perfect, pulsating veins that ran along the shaft. I wondered what it would feel like to have it inside me.

I began stroking Michael's shaft and with both hands. As I did so, I flicked my tongue around the dome shaped head, teasing and tantalising the sensitive glans and rim and even sliding the warm tip of my moist tongue along the slit.

"Hurmn, yes. Lick it, suck it," Michael lowly moaned a response. Nevertheless, I continued with my stroking and teasing, which was soon rewarded when a large droplet of pre-cum bubbled out. I quickly moved my right hand so that the arch supported the head of his cock. I then, as I licked down and up his warm fleshy shaft, smeared the sticky essence around Michael's glans with my thumb.

"I want your cock between my tits," I told him. "Not until I've sucked you, though," I added. I could feel a fire smouldering in my very core, one that would have to wait a while longer, as I so wanted more from Michael before I spread my legs for him to drill me. Until then, I was content to continue almost worshipping Michael's big cock; it certainly was magnificent.

Without another word, I leant my head forward and took the crown of his cock into my mouth. Michael groaned with pleasure as I once more swirled my tongue around the turgid head and continued to stroke his shaft.

"All the way down," Michael said. ‘Surely, he's kidding,' I flustered, the glans were nudging the edge of my throat, and that was with my stroking hands acting as a buffer, almost.

"You're long, so big," I said, before appeasing Michael by sliding my tongue up and down the length of his cock and on all sides. Every now and then, I gave his cum filled balls, which seemed big also, a lick and suck. When I next took his hard length into my mouth Michael bunched up my hair and drew me back and forth, fucking my mouth with his cock monster as I did my best to stroke the lower portion and accepted what was a mouth fuck from him.

"Bluh," I vociferated, when he eventually removed himself from me. Strands of my saliva drooled from my chin and, along with those which momentarily suspended between the head of Michael's cock and that of my lower lip only to break off, dripped and dropped onto the cleavage of my breasts. ‘Em, I could see why he did that,' I realised, and motioned myself towards Michael's cock, which I then slapped against the warm moist valley of my 38C's a couple of times. I then held the shaft in position with my mouth around the head and then drew my tits together, both to cushion and loosely encase Michael's shaft before folding my interlaced fingers over the top.

As I sucked the tumescent glans, I gazed up, smiling, at Michael as he rocked his warm hard erection between my breasts. I felt sure he would cum from what I was doing, I certainly wanted him to but he didn't. Instead, Michael had one more position for me.

"God, you're quite the stud," I commended my son's friend, when he eventually had me release him.

Still holding my left wrist, he rejoined, "That I am, Alison." He then, having gotten off the armchair, turned me around so that the backs of my thighs were against the backrest. However, instead of me being stood up, as Michael had been, I was on my back, my head part hanging over the edge. ‘Now, what,' my mind raced, as I took in what was happening with an upside down view.

Michael was stood facing me, his erect cock hovering above my face while the vague curve of his ‘horn' was notably prominent. Then he was lower. The slick glans from my having sucked on the head were zooming in on me, passing my line of sight and heading for...!

Intuitively, my lips parted and his proud cock slid in. I swirled my tongue around the shaft as Michael rocked himself back and forth. With that being of his own effort, my hands were elsewhere; my clit and nipple. Then I felt the head of his big dick nudge my epiglottis.

"Shush," Michael quietened me, his hand cradling my head so that I couldn't withdraw myself from what was about to happen.

Accepting his intentions, I contented myself with stroking my clit and pulling on each nipple as Michael slid the glans of his big turgid cock into my throat. Rather than, as I expected him to, feed me the entire length, he managed to temper his actions and subsequently ‘fucked' just the head in and out of my oesophagus. He then, still exercising considerate and tempered control, shuffled his legs forward so that they were either side of my head and craned himself over my body. I then felt Michael's warm moist lips encase my neglected nipple, which he then sucked and pleasurably nipped, that caused me to release a muffled moan in response.

"Gluh," was the next repetitive sound that came from my lips when he began fucking my mouth and throat with a degree of alacrity.

I wanted him to cum. I wanted to taste his warm sticky essence, just as he had tasted mine, and Michael's actions suggested he was finally ready to give me his warm sticky load.

His fingers were once more concentrated on my clit, concentrated on making me cum at the same time that he would. I reached up to his buttocks and held onto them. ‘Cum for me, Michael, fill me with your warm...Emn, yes,' I regaled, as the jolt of his initial eruption hit my larynx.

Still holding Michael to me, I accepted another large spurt of his cum juice and then lowered myself to taste two more of his creamy violent expulsions. ‘Emn,' I languidly moaned and murmured, as I relished and savoured the delicious taste.

Amidst all of that, and my directing the remainder of Michael's warm sticky essence over my face and upper body before sucking the dregs from him, he made me cum; however, Michael refrained from moving himself further forward and licking my juiced up pussy, an indication that I would soon be getting his big dick between my other lips.

"Thank-you, you were delicious," I commended my host, as he helped me up, turned me around and then, once I was as Michael had been stood when I returned with my bag, grasped my sides and hoisted me up. He then plopped my butt on top of the backrest and moved my knees apart. The toes of my feet were inches above the armrests I noticed. I also noticed that Michael was stroking an almost profoundly hard cock.

"It's okay, you're quite -"

"Wet!" I exclaimed, finishing his sentence as I moved my hands to hold myself open for him.

"Yeah. Just one hand, Alison. I want you to..." But before Michael could complete his sentence, I reached out towards his almost hard veiny shaft and drew it towards my needy pussy.

Looking from Michael to his cock then back at him, I teased the head up, down and around my open pink pussy. I also surprised myself by slapping the head against my clit and emitting a pleasured startled moan each time.

"You like being slapped," Michael smiled at me.

"When it's, emn, yes, accompanied by, oh fuck, you're big; pleasure," I crooned, as I edged the warm puffy glans inside my tight opening; with Michael's girth, it would certainly be that, alright.

Holding the shaft, still gazing and smiling at Michael, I worked some more into my horny dowsed pussy. I then moved the cum sticky hand that had been holding me open, up to Michael's nape and then drew his moist lips to mine. As we began kissing, I released his cock and placed that hand on his buttocks. I then, as our tongues swapped mouths, urged Michael to fill me with one forward fluid swing of his hips.

"Hurmn," I released a moan. I then felt his cock slowly withdraw so that just the bulbous head and a few inches were inside me.

With my lips released, I said it, I said, "Fuck -" His cock once more filling my wanton wet pussy before I could finish urging him to.

Michael then splayed my legs even more. He then, and having placed the backs of his hands against the wall - behind my head, in fact - swung his hips and cock at me with so much force, that my head recoiled against his waiting palms.

"Fuck me!" I exclaimed, and once more took his lips and tongue to me. I moaned, murmured, emned and aghed, as my son's friend lay his big long cock to my wet greedy pussy. I wanted it all, every inch, every fraction of an inch pounding me, pounding me and making me cum. My fingers were on my clit, rubbing it hard. Still with Michael's tongue swishing around my mouth, I climaxed and still he fucked his rod to me. The wetness urged him on, gave his cock more lube to temper any friction.

As I came down from whatever cloud I'd just been on, Michael withdrew himself and knelt before me. He then lapped up my escaping juices as I continued to thrum my clit. Even those that were and had permeated onto my humid thighs. He was hungry for pussy, of that, I had no doubt whatsoever.

Having taken his fill, Michael then dragged me down so that my ass was part hanging over the edge while my spine curled along the cushion to that of the lower backrest. This time ‘he' slapped my clit with his cockhead and shaft.

"Oh fuck!" I exclaimed a response, then, ‘emn," I sighed, with the after effects each time - three in all. Not only was my body shaking, but my pussy and clit seemed additionally sensitive.

"Fuck yes," I squealed, when Michael slid his big long cock back inside me. Slowly to begin with then just as slowly back. Then, he let me have it.

"Fuck!" I cried; the forceful swing of his hips once more speeding his cock to fill me. I felt him where I'd never felt a cock before. Not even George, and his dick was big also, had penetrated me to such depths.

"Fuck me. Harder, deeper," I urged the young stud between my splayed thighs.

"That's it, nail my pussy, ream my cunt," I encouraged Michael. I used all the dirty words I could think of as he fucked me somewhat ‘senseless' and, for the cherry on top, stroked my clit as he drew my fuck lips apart. ‘God, was he deep.'

Having made me cum, my clit sensitive but not sore, Michael again licked up my juices and bathed my clit with his saliva.

"Fuck. I could get rather accustomed to this," I intoned, all the while gazing down at Michael as I rolled my bullet-like nipples betwixt my thumb and fingers; even they were exceptionally long I couldn't help but notice.

"Where next?" I voiced, when he extended his hand to help me up.

Back to the sofa I was lead and then directed to kneel down with my knees wide apart and my hands braced on the backrest. Michael then climbed up on the sofa and presented me with his cock, which I duly licked and sucked; he had, after all, tasted me on numerous occasions that long afternoon; early evening as it would be by the time I returned home...!

Presently finished, he tapped the moist head of his cock against each cheek and then climbed down and moved behind me. I felt his cock rest on my curple. His right hand then curled around me and stroked the humid flesh of my thigh. Eventually, Michael's fingers explored my inner thigh on their way to my wetness.

"Hurmn, oh, ooo, emn," I sighed, as they got ever closer.

"Oh, yes; fuck, yes," I moaned, when my pussy yielded to their welcome invasive touch. Only then, and grasping his erection, did Michael positon his big dick. Lower, and between my humid thighs, which vaguely quavered as his length brushed against them.

"Emn, fuck, yes," I sighed, when Michael teased the head and length along my wet slit; his fingers, those that had been inside my pussy, part-holding me open while the others motioned his cock along my fuck channel.

"Fucker!" I playfully exclaimed, when, and without realising how, Michael slipped his impressive length into me. From there, he ploughed my pussy with a slow sensuous rhythm.

Yet again, I let out a sighed moan at the pleasure his big dick was giving me as it was fucked back and forth, in and not fully out of my horny wet cunt.

After awhile, Michael grabbed my hair and pulled sharply, just as he zinged his cock deep into my hot pussy. ‘Aagh!' I responded. But then, as he slowly withdrew himself, Michael ducked his head under my right armpit and somehow, considering the cup size, covered my right tit and nipple with his mouth.

"Ooo fuck, emn, yes. You're certainly, more, like that," I urged, as he licked and flicked my swollen bud, "full of surprises," I commended my host.

Having released my rosy nipple, and grasping my hair with his left hand, Michael's thrusts became more forceful until, eventually, his groin was making slapping noises against my buttocks, which I dare say rippled each time.

"Fuck, yes, fuck me, Michael, slam your long hard dick into me," I urged, along with numerous other erotic encouragements I was too wrapped up in my next orgasm to recall.

When it subsequently struck, something was different, I noticed. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time. With my release came a sudden, unexpected surge. Then it happened. I squirted. Liquid gushed from me as Michael, realising what I was doing ,held me to him. ‘It's okay, enjoy this,' he assuaged me. Well, it was his home, his sofa I made wet, so...!

Even before the aftershocks overtook my body I was trembling. What had he done to me, more than that, what had Michael done for me. I had no idea I could do that. It left a lingering glow in my body, though.

"Right, you, my turn," I said, almost insistently.

For what I wanted, which was to ride Michael's cock into oblivion, I could hardly expect him to lay on the wet sofa. Instead, I had him sprawled out on the deep pile carpet. Even like that, his cock was big...!

"Hold on, just like that, I need to get something."

In addition to my bag, I picked up my shoes and slipped them back on. This would be a ride I hoped he wouldn't forget, but before that, I removed the tape measure from my bag and crawled back to the awaiting Michael.

"You know, Alison, it isn't just the length," Michael said, when he caught sight of the tape measure.

‘Tell me about it,' I thought, as I unrolled 14 inches of tape and extended it to Michael's ominous, upstanding erection. ‘With you, it's clearly both...12 inches, gulp, that's a foot,' I realised, before dropping the tape and licking myself, the fluid that covered his prize specimen of manhood, from Michael's cock.

"You can eat my pussy afterwards," I shot a coy glance at him, and then sucked down on the length, as much as I could, from that angle, manage. I then straddled Michael with my shoed feet either side of his hips and guided his cock into my needy pussy.

Having fucked myself up and down the length for a short while, I braced my hands on his chest and began moving slowly, then a bit faster, and faster still. I was soon bouncing up and down his dick, which flashed in and out of me. My ass cheeks slapped his thighs each time his big cock filled me up.

"Oooh, ooh, fuck, fuck, fuck me, fuck me," I urged, as my next climax took a hold, ‘Would I again squirt,' I wondered, but on and on I bounced, all the same.

Having subsequently slowed down, Michael moved his hands under the cheeks of my ass and held me several inches off and above his cock. ‘What you doing?' I thought, only for him to flex his hips up and down and slide his cock in and out of my well-reamed cunt. ‘Okay, now...WHAT!' But before I had a chance to complete my thought, he began piston fucking me. Any words I uttered, were as incoherent as that of someone operating a pneumatic drill.

After that, Michael maintained his stamina and swung me over and onto my back. He raised my legs up and back so that the backs of my shins were resting against his shoulders while his cockhead was poised just inside me.

"Huh, huh, huh," I gasped, with every resounding thrust of his length; it was as if Michael was pushing my gasps from me.

"What do you want."

"Fuck me."

"Oh Christ!" I cried out, when he slammed his length into me and quickly returned to the previous position.

"What do you really want, Alison," he urged.

"Ram your cock. Oh God. Huh, huh, huh," I rejoined and gasped, as it lanced deep into my core.

"Fuck me, Michael, Yes!" I shrieked. Thereafter, he drilled me, deep and into the carpet and the hard floor beneath it.

"I'm gonna cum," he soon warned me. Michael's body was dripping sweat, some of which even stung my eyes before I reflexively closed my lids.

"Do it, cum inside me, let me cum with you, just fuck me with your big cock," I urged, and that he did.

His cum was warm, and as the spurts jettisoned against the walls of my vulva, I also came, one long nerve jangling, pleasurable orgasm. I raised my hips to swallow his entire length, even though he was fully sheathed inside me. It was then that I managed to unfurl my nylon clad legs and wrap them around Michael's waist, holding him to me until he had deposited every last drop of his baby making spunk deep inside my pussy.

Thankfully, contraception had advanced, significantly, from when I fell pregnant with my son, and on the way home I stopped off at a pharmacy and bought a morning after pill. Before that, though...

Eventually releasing Michael, I was taken aback when, after kissing my legs, hold ups and all, he drifted towards my pussy. ‘Well, you did want me to eat you, remember.' And with that, Michael did. He even shared the taste with me, a cocktail of our combined juices, which I took from his tongue before licking his chin and lips.

He even offered me a shower, but I wanted to keep his smell, that of our time together, on me, as a memory, which was all it could be. I certainly didn't see myself as a notch on Michael's bedpost; it was I who approached him, wanting what happened to happen. I got dressed and thanked Michael for the wonderful fulfilling experience of a younger man, which, I suppose, in a way, very much made me a MILF (Mother I'd Like to Fuck).