Is She a Milf? Exposed!
A friend of mine has tried something new and it didn't turn out how she expected. She's a mid-forties lady with a wild side, and it got her into trouble. Some might say morality was thrown out the window, but this story takes place on LIT. So, please don't be too harsh on her or she'll have to start over.
"Trudy, please come in, I'm such a mess."
Trudy was my dearest pal who lived nearby. She was there for me during my divorce three years ago when my world collapsed.
We were two women, both in our mid-forties, her husband being Jake. He was my ex-husband's best friend, making things quite complicated back then.
"What's going on?" she asked, looking deeply concerned. "It sounded like you were in the middle of a panic attack, are you okay?"
I cried into her shoulders while she held me close.
"Stop it, get a hold of yourself. I'll help you fix this. Just tell me all of it."
Trudy was being her usual calm, sensible, and mature self, just as she had been last time I called on her.
"Let's sit down and you tell me everything," she offered.
I turned away from the window and stared out like I was expecting something. Trudy soon followed and glanced out the window too.
"Are you scared of someone? What have you been up to?"
I averted my eyes, nervous about her reaction. "You see that young guy working next door at the Smiths' place?" I hesitated, "We've been having sex."
Trudy stood still, focusing on the window before slowly letting out a "Fuck."
"Lucy, you lucky girl!"
I wasn't expecting this reaction at all. I wanted to be called a predator, a slut, or a frustrated mum.
Trudy burst out laughing, which made me more frustrated.
"Jesus, Trudy! Last Friday, he fucked me on that breakfast bar right there where you're standing!"
Trudy then pretended to jump back in disgust and laugh even harder.
"Ewww, I hope it's clean."
Once I saw how upset I was, though, she stopped laughing.
"Okay, let's talk this out, like we did with Ben and his affairs."
Ben was my ex, and his affairs led to our breakup. Trudy's marriage also suffered due to her husband's part in his excuses and she wasn't okay with that.
We sat together on stools at the breakfast bar.
"What's his name? How old is he?" Trudy inquired.
She wanted to start with the basics.
"Chris, he's nineteen." I chuckled nervously, "It's like he's a year younger than Katie!"
Katie was my daughter who'd finished her first year at university and was currently traveling with a friend.
"Age doesn't matter," she said, throwing out the old saying. "But it seems like it's been pretty intense if you keep repeating it."
I turned red because I'd have to confess how amazing the sex was with Chris.
"It was amazing, Trudy. I feel so guilty for enjoying it so much. He makes me cum like never before!"
Trudy stepped away from the window.
"Maybe I should meet him?" She said with envy in her voice.
"Don't," I scolded, "No! No....."
Inside, I almost admitted my feelings for him, but I held back and expressed shock instead.
"No, no, no! Not him! He's been staying for two weeks, laying patios and paths before he goes to university in September."
Trudy relaxed, wondering what she should say next.
"Okay, so you'll probably fuck him one last time before he leaves, and then put it in the past."
I sighed, feeling devastated. "That's the problem! He's leaving tomorrow."
Trudy was shocked. "Oh my god, have you fallen for him?"
Suddenly, we jumped when we heard a knock on the window. Chris's smiley face appeared behind the glass, signaling us to unlock the door to the outer kitchen.
Trudy exclaimed, "Time to go!" as she didn't want to be a bother.
"No, wait. He just wants a drink. Don't leave."
I unlocked the door, and Chris stepped inside before realizing I had a visitor. He switched from casual to polite mode and addressed Trudy.
"Sorry, I didn't realize you had someone here. I just need to fill my water bottle... Hi."
Trudy was taken aback and struggled to find the right words.
"Is this Chris?"
He responded, "I am Chris," confident and strutting over to offer a handshake to Trudy, who was significantly shorter and wet from the rain.
After shaking his hand, Trudy stated, "I'm about to leave."
Chris reassured her, "Don't go because of me." Then he released her, admiring the resemblance between her and me.
"You're pretty cheeky, young man," Trudy said, flirting back.
I stepped in to fill Chris's water bottle.
"Chris is leaving this weekend, so you have nothing to worry about," I added. "Plus, you're married."
He chuckled and grabbed the bottle, commenting, "I'll refill it later. Goodbye, Mrs. Trudy. It was nice to meet you. I hope my uncle hires me again next holiday so we can meet again!"
He vanished, and both of us blurted out, "Fuck!" simultaneously.
Me, frightened by Trudy's reaction to Chris, and Trudy, acknowledging his attractiveness.
Trudy then said, "He's so good-looking."
"I know. If I weren't here, he'd be screwing you too. God help your husband," I replied.
Trudy was calming down and we started to laugh.
"Twins! I've never been mistaken for a twin before. Anyway, enjoy your time here and live it up. You might meet him again next holiday, but you need to accept that you're just a fling, a casual affair, something he can tell his friends about back home."
Feeling sad, I watched Trudy leave the kitchen.
"You're very much like her!"
I was caught off guard. Chris was slightly taller, shirtless, and self-assured.
"Come here."
His words were hypnotic, pulling me in like a strong drug.
I walked towards him and he wrapped his arms around me without uttering a word. Kissing me, his sweaty body became an aphrodisiac, just like it always had been. His hands cupped my breasts, and his fingers pulled my wet panties to the side.
His zipper made a dragging sound as he pulled down his pants.
"Stop seducing her next week," I said, feeling guilty.
Chris ignored me, telling me to lie back. "I want to see you cum while I watch."
I changed positions, resting on my back with my legs spread. He unzipped and clamped my hips, lifting me up, moving his erection inside me, positioning me on the edge of the stainless steel kitchen table.
With a cocky grin, he looked into my eyes, hinting at his intentions.
Disrupting my kissing, I gasped.
"Can't you wait another week, Chris... fuck, you feel so good!"
He didn't respond, but simply grabbed my hips, adjusted my body, and began thrusting.
I closed my eyes, enjoying his thrusts, silently murmuring my pleasure.
Chris's hand found my clitoris, massaging it. We were both nearing orgasm.
During the week, he had somehow improved his ability to make me cum at the same time as him. That day was no different. It must have been the product of a perfect week of sex.
Clutching tightly to the table, I held back a gasp of pleasure as he slammed into me. He drove into me one last time, ramming his cock deep inside and grinding his hips against me. I shook and trembled on the wooden surface, unable to contain my excitement.
With wide eyes, I watched as he released himself, the ejaculation seeming endless. When he finally drew back, I tried to hoist myself up onto my feet, but failed. My legs hung limply from the table as I struggled to my knees.
Chris simply tugged up his shorts and said, "I might be back later, if not, this will be our last day."
He leaned over, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then disappeared.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered under my breath, glancing down at the puddles of his semen on the kitchen floor. I could feel them seeping out of me, collecting on the oak surface beneath me.
I stood with a groan and attempted to straighten my underwear before pulling my skirt down. Grabbing a roll of paper towels, I cleaned the table and then wiped the floor.
Hesitantly, I checked my phone, noticing a message from Trudy.
"You okay? Have you seen him?"
I couldn't help but feel bad about how much I'd lied to her over the last few days. Responding truthfully, I typed, "He just fucked me again!"
Her response was quick and unapologetic, "You dirty slut!" There was an evil grinning face and a devil emoji.
My guilt overcame me, so I remained silent as she continued to text.
"Please don't think I was judging you. Just enjoy him. I've done bad things, but it's life."
I pondered what her bad deeds might be and then decided to focus on cleaning. I immediately picked up the clothes I'd left half-done and set to ironing to purge my mind. My distraction included a few glasses of wine to help me forget.
The next day, I noticed Chris working as his uncle watched him. Knowing Chris would be leaving, I tried to find any chance to catch a glimpse of him.
Finally, just before lunchtime, Trudy arrived unannounced. "You okay? ... I'm really sorry, I didn't want you to see that last text in the wrong way."
I gave her a hug and confessed my feelings of guilt, saying, "I feel like a slut. What other mother has sex with a teenager?"
"Slut is probably a good word," Trudy said with a shrug. "What other mother has sex with a teenager?"
"Probably lots, or they would do if they had the opportunity... now get the mugs down."
"Okay," I said, annoyed, before carrying the basket upstairs, intending to finish ironing. Unfortunately, I heard voices downstairs.
Chris was enticing Trudy. "You're just as attractive as Lucy, you know that."
Trudy's voice was upset, "Stop it Chris, you mustn't go around doing just as you like. Stop it, Lucy will be down any minute."
He continued, "Can I see you later?"
Their voices were so clear that I knew I had to intervene. Feigning a heavy step, I staggered to the stairs.
With Trudy in the way, I could only make out parts of their conversation. "You're incorrigible," Trudy quipped. "Lucy would be so upset!"
Once in the kitchen, I acted as though I hadn't been eavesdropping, asking, "No mugs yet?" Then I heard something about Chris finishing his work.
"It's okay, you can wait for your coffee," Trudy replied, handing me only two mugs. Even though she was trying to escape, Chris continued his flirting, "I wasn't intending to stay. I'll go now and leave you two alone. I dropped by in passing, I know Chris goes home tonight."
But Chris countered, "It's okay, you don't have to leave just yet, I've almost finished here."
Trudy seemed more comfortable with the situation, and I could see her considering the consequences of her words. Finally, she said, "Okay," and began preparing the coffee.
I could see that Chris knew about our relationship, making me feel even more guilty. I tried to shrug off the awkwardness by asking Trudy, "What took you so long to get here?"
Trudy glared at me, and I could tell she didn't appreciate my insensitivity. I quickly changed the subject, "You didn't tell me you were going to pop in."
Clearly, Trudy was upset by the situation. "I just wanted to check on things, is all."
"Here," I said, offering her a mug of coffee, following her lead. "How was your week?"
Trudy sighed, "Not good. The kids have been bad again," and then she spent the next half hour venting about her children, her ex-husband, and her job. The ironing waited, forgotten, unfinished.
The atmosphere was thick with tension and quiet exchanges until Trudy eventually parted ways. We embraced, and following her departure, I confronted Chris.
"Were you flirting with Trudy?"
My anger or disappointment showed in my expression, as if exposing him.
"No way, dude! I was just chatting about school, like she said," he responded with a smirk.
This was the first time I perceived Chris showing a hint of uncertainty.
"I don't think so," I replied, visibly furious. "You're just looking for a quick lay."
"Dude, calm down! She's hot, for sure, but come on, we were only apart for five minutes. I can't have slept with her in that time!" He began to laugh, which added to my pain.
"Fine then," I stated, feeling defeated and bewildered. "You won't get anything else from me."
Chris's face transformed.
"Just leave me alone, you teased me, you've had your fun, don't expect to see me around anymore."
The door to the adjacent kitchen swiftly clanged shut. I tearfully collapsed on the bed, encountering a mix of emotions - hurt, disappointment, and uncontrollable sobbing. Scanning the window for any sign of Chris's presence, I observed he had vanished.
It took around an hour for me to compose myself enough to head upstairs and glance at myself in the mirror before washing my teary face with cold water.
"You bastard... You bastard... You BASTARD," I cried out, my voice carrying through the house. I had left my smartphone in the kitchen, so I went outside to inspect the neighboring property. No trace of Chris was visible.
I composed a text, 'F*ck off!'
The message failed to uplift my spirit, so I seized the half-open bottle of Sauvignon and buried my sorrows, thinking it absorbent and consolatory. It was only midday.
I settled on one of the stools, seeing my phone. I reread the endless messages we traded after every sexual encounter. It served a reminder of Chris's revitalization of my potency. He had lit the fire, and I reciprocated. Though he appeared to be a charmer at 19, he was a player.
I messaged Trudy, notifying her of my dispute with Chris, accusing him of flirting with her.
'There's been a huge row. I accused him of hitting on you. He's gone. Good riddance.'
After a brief conversation, she failed to reply, so I concluded she was busy shopping or visiting her mother.
I was distraught, my adventure ended not on terms I desired: a fond farewell and shared memories. My underestimating of Chris's nature had wavered my course.
Using my phone, I rang Trudy.
"Oh my gosh, Lucy, I'm so sorry," she sounded frenzied. "He's a dick. I have to confess, he did flirt with me. Look, I know I shouldn't have. But I can't stop now. My sister is coming over, I'll talk to you soon."
A wave of profound dread swamped me. I attempted to banish it, but the idea of Chris and Trudy engaging in intercourse unsettled me. After all, she was happily married. However, it seemed inevitable: the characteristics that drove me towards Chris had led him towards Trudy.
I glugged the remaining bottle of wine, then sat still in the armchair, pondering if I should confront them. I resisted, letting the consuming wine numb my worries.
'Ping'
A text message arrived from Chris. It served as a type of reply to my scorching remark.
'I do feel sorry it turned out this way, Lucy. You've been great.'
A confused partial apology? Had he slept with Trudy?
The wine sapped me, so I vacated my armchair and finished the bottle, succumbing to its warmth and embrace. Then I saw Chris strolling through my front garden, on his way back to his uncle's.
I wrestled internally. 'So what!' I thought, resolved that the adventure was over. I would hold on to my own pleasure, and he would simply retreat.
Suspecting the possibility of Trudy and Chris entertaining each other, I pondered how my best friend could deceive me. However, she had stood by me through difficult times. If I confided in her, I'd accept her confession.
Read also:
- Yes, Darling
- Recruitment Specialist Chapter 9
- Madam Inanna's Life in FLR Continues: Part 2
- Day Two of The One-Way Voyage
Source: www.nice-escort.de
