The MILF

The MILF

KRISTINA

Damn, Louis.

‘Pick me up at midnight; I swear I’ll be ready,’ he’d promised. And where is he?

Nowhere to be seen.

I pull my phone out of my bag, trying to suppress a yawn. I was working late, which wasn’t unusual for me. Bradley had files that had to be ready the next day for his big-shot meeting with Fickley & Co, and so, being the dutiful assistant that I am, I stayed late.

Again.

It’s no wonder I don’t have a man. I’m constantly at work. My son, Louis, is partying hard again. He works hard enough during the week as a laborer and pays his way at home, so I don’t mind.

This party is quite far away though, and I offered him a ride so he wouldn’t have to pay excessive cab fares. Or, God forbid, get into a car with someone who’s been drinking.

No, it’s better that I’m here to pick him up.

I became a mother at a young age, having him at eighteen. His dad supported us, but we just didn’t work out. He lives in Texas now, and I barely see him.

I check my phone again, frustrated that Louis isn’t picking up. Of course, he isn’t going to pick up; he’s off his face. I unbuckle my seat belt, knowing he will probably die of embarrassment when he sees me searching for him at his buddy’s party.

Tough shit. Be out when you say you will, kid.

I’m still in my office attire, but for the sake of not looking too out of place, I pull my hair loose in an attempt to appear more casual. The music is loud—too loud for anyone to hear me knocking at the door. My frustration gets the better of me, and I peer around the side of the house to see teenagers and young adults congregating in the garden.

Fine.

I make my way around the house, scanning the garden as I search for Louis. I won’t embarrass him, but as soon as he sees me, he will be out of here like a shot.

I’m surprised by how calm it is for a party of twenty-somethings compared to parties I attended back in the day.

“Ms. Green?”

I whirl around to see Troy, Louis’s best friend, peering at me with disbelief. I have not seen him in about five years, but it’s definitely him. He’s well-built and, oh, covered in tattoos. His hair is cropped short, and his crystal blue eyes seem to be raking over my body as we study each other briefly.

“Troy!”

My voice comes out a little too high-pitched for my liking, but Troy doesn’t seem to notice. He’s gazing at me with interest as I speak.

“I’m supposed to pick Louis up–”

“Right. Louis is, uh, a little bit busy at the moment, if you catch my drift?”

I frown, not wanting to know the details. Louis is a stunning young man—a replica of his Puerto Rican father. Stunning.

“So he’s—” I stop, unable to carry on. What terminology do you use when referring to your offspring’s extracurricular activities?

“Fucking someone? Right,” Troy offers as I study him again.

“Wonderful. I’m tired, so I’m not waiting around. How are you getting home?”

He seems reasonably sober, considering. And if I know Troy is looking after him, I’ll feel better about leaving Louis’s sorry ass.

Troy cocks his head a little and shrugs. “Can I catch a ride with you?”

It takes me by surprise, but then I figure he does look kinda bored.

“Are you done partying?” I raise an eyebrow as he smirks, looking incredibly hot as he does.

Wait, what?

“Kinda.”

I figure Louis won’t be free for a while, and he will have to pay a hefty cab fare as a result of being too preoccupied to meet his damn mother when she asks him to. Troy’s parents don’t seem the type to drive out here and pick him up at this hour either, so I guess I’m doing a good deed.

“You still live on Reed Avenue?” I ask, glancing around as a pretty little thing slides up to Troy.

“Aw, are you going? Please don’t! We still have to play Spin the Bottle!”

God, she’s annoying. Her voice is whiny and irritating. But she has the body of an angel and everything that goes with it. Why is she so damn clingy?

“Nah, I’m going home. Sorry, Jenny.”

Jenny pouts, giving me an evil glare before storming away.

“No, I live on Kent Road. Got my own place.”

“Oh, really?”

This piques my interest. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love having Louis home with me. But there is something manly and attractive about someone getting their shit together by twenty.

I shrug. “It’s not too far from ours. Let’s go.”

I make my way back out to the front and notice Troy following me with that lust-filled expression in his eyes. I’m bewildered at first—I’m thirty-eight for fuck’s sake. He is beautiful and has clearly had women who would bend over backward—or forward—for him. Why is he checking me out?

The conversation in the car is polite, but I notice him checking me out more times than I care to admit. Still, he does nothing to make a move, and I feel a twinge of disappointment. It has been so long since I’ve had someone between my thighs, and this divine young man would be fucking delectable.

But he’s my son’sbest friend.

I pull up to the house, smiling as I peer past him.

“This is yours?” I ask, whistling softly. “Well done, you.”

Troy nods, glancing at the house proudly.

“Yeah, it needed a lot of work when I first moved in, but I’ve done most of it. It’s got amazing views over the lake.”

“Has it?” I ask, noting the husky tone that accompanies my words. As I slowly lick my lips, Troy swallows, looking at them. “Can I see?”

Fuck it.

Troy stammers out a yes, and I cut the engine.

Right answer.

TROY

Oh my fucking God. Ms. Green is coming into my house in the stupidly early hours of the morning.

Alone.

I can’t stop gazing at her curves either—the swell of her breasts beneath the tight white shirt, leading down to her slender waist and wide hips. She is also wearing a tight skirt that goes down to her knees, and heels. She is so fucking beautiful but also Louis’s mom.

Forbidden.

She is licking her lips now, and it’s making my cock hard. I’m praying she doesn’t look down and see it—can you imagine the embarrassment?

We walk toward my front door, and my fingers fumble with the keys as she watches me with interest. It’s cold outside, and I notice her nipples are hard.

Oh ~God. ~

Finally, the lock releases, and we walk into the hallway. I close the door behind us, wondering whether to lock it or not. I don’t want her to feel uneasy.

“Do you want a drink, or—”

She unbuttons her shirt, allowing me to slightly see her cleavage. My breath catches in my throat, and I try not to stare, but she is fucking captivating.

“It’s warm in here, isn’t it?”

She kicks her heels off, turning away from me as she walks down the hallway, dragging her fingers along the wall beside her. I swallow as I follow her, feeling foolish.

What if I’m reading this wrong?

“So, a drink? Do you want one?” I manage to ask, trying to sound confident. I don’t think it’s working. I sound out of my depth.

“Troy. Come and sit with me.”

It’s almost a command, and I find myself almost falling over to join her on my black leather sofa.

“Ms. Green—”

“Kristina, please,” she purrs, her wide brown eyes gazing at me. I nod wordlessly as she continues to unbutton her shirt, revealing a black lace bra.

I’m no longer imagining this. My cock is throbbing in my pants, but there’s no way I’m making a move with her.

No. Way.

She is like a fucking goddess.

She stands up and laces her hands with mine before pushing them under her skirt. My fingers brush against warm lace.

“Oh, fuck,” I mumble, my eyes locking with hers to make sure this is what she meant.

She hooks her fingers through the waistband of her underwear and smirks at me, leaving the material in my hands. I slide it down her thighs, nearly exploding in my pants when I see the inner material glistening from her pussy.

Is she wet? From being near me?

Then, she pushes me back and sits astride me. My hands instinctively travel up her thighs, which are creamy and soft beneath my fingers. I let them push her skirt up slightly while Kristina laces her hands around my neck.

“Can I kiss you, Troy?”

I nod, barely able to breathe when her soft lips meet mine. Her kiss is so soft that I’m soon pressing her to me, greedily seeking the warmth of her tongue. My hands are on her bare ass now as she expertly grinds against me.

“Can you unbutton your pants for me? Slide them down a little?”

Her voice is hypnotic, and I can’t help but respond. Soon, I’m naked from the waist down, and her core is rubbing against the tip of my solid hard dick.

“Oh, God.”

She is kissing me harder now, her hand guiding mine to her pussy. I don’t know what’s happening. Normally, I’m in control, but right now, I’m terrified of making her do something she will regret.

“Are you a virgin, Troy?” she finally asks, a touch of frustration in her voice.

I shake my head, wondering what the fuck is wrong with me.

“Do you want me?”

“Fuck, yes,” I say gruffly as she bites her lip seductively.

“Then fuck me.”