Young teen’s parents host Bridge Club weekly Boy learns game from his parents. sits in as a short-term sub, becomes a frequent partner of a foxy milf, Etta, and sexually attracted to her. Boy tries to absent himself after getting a hard-on for her. Etta brings him back as a sub when her husband goes out of town. Then arranges interview for boy with her boss that is suddenly canceled, allowing her to invite him to lunch. She takes him to her firm’s hotel suite and seduces him.
Etta was a middle-aged, short, curvy, dirty blonde who was very pretty but stopped just short of being drop-dead gorgeous. She was 48, 5′ 2″ with about 34-B tits and a slender figure which included an incredibly alluring pair of legs and ass that she was not at all shy about ‘twitching’ from time to time to win male attention. Etta was a close friend of my parents, who hosted an eight-person bridge game almost every Friday. Etta and her husband were regulars. It was just friendly rubber bridge, not the more competitive duplicate version. Each team would play till one team won two out of three rubbers. Then they would switch tables to play a new set of opponents.
I was the oldest of four, and my sibs and I loved Bridge Club nights, as there were always snacks, deserts and other treats left over that we quickly gobbled up on Saturday morning before our parents got up and about. But, when I hit thirteen, I became very curious about the game itself and asked my parents to teach me how to play. So I started playing a lot of rubber bridge with my parents and an elderly lady who lived across the street from us and was quite close to the whole family.
It was always the boys vs. the girls. When the gals were close to winning a rubber, my dad had a habit of making ridiculously high bids unsupported by his hand. This forced the gals to bid even higher in order to make a game bid that would give them the rubber and bragging rights. Often his strategy put me into very difficult situations where my dad was the ‘dummy’ who sat out the play of the hand while I was forced to try and make a bid we just didn’t have the cards for.
Over time, however, this led me to become very adept at finessing and false carding moves designed to mislead opponents and win us one or two extra tricks which sometimes allowed me to make one of my dad’s overly optimistic bids. Indeed, I sometimes suspected my dad’s crazy bidding was actually intended to force me to learn how to do that and was not just a response to our competitive position in a particular rubber. He could be crafty as a fox that way but would never admit to having a hidden agenda.
In any event, by the time I was 14, I was not only watching the Bridge Club play but also invited to sit in for players who wanted to take a break to go to the john, get a drink, prepare or grab some deserts or snacks, or just chill. Etta seemed to make a habit out of asking her hubby to make her a drink or a sandwich so she could invite me to sit in as her partner. She was an excellent player and lavished compliments on me when I would make a challenging bid with a crafty finesse. But she would also point out bidding mistakes I had made—always in a friendly, teaching manner. Over time, Etta became my most frequent and favorite partner.
When I turned 16 and was deep into puberty, however, I started to become uncomfortable playing with Etta. She always wore red lipstick, had a warm smile for me– and her skirts usually were noticeably shorter than those of the other ladies and showed off her derriere delightfully. As I sat across from her and was forced to frequently look over at her full, red lips, often curled into a friendly smile, all I could think about was . . . . Need I say more? And her ass twitch was just driving me crazy!
One night Etta and I were playing together, and I made a grand slam by winning all the tricks with a sly finesse that dodged the one possible loser in our hand. She was so excited for me! Her red mouth flew open in a big, happy O–a glimpse of what she might look like orgasming, I thought. She complimented my play and blew me a little kiss of congratulations. My dick instantly hardened! I was worried it might erupt, but there was no escape as I knew the bulge in my pants would not go unnoticed were I to stand up to leave. Hoping Etta’s husband would not come back to the table anytime soon, I played a few more hands to give my erection a chance to wane. When the swelling finally subsided a bit, I advised the group I needed to attend to some school work, thanked them all and rushed to the upstairs bathroom. I spent the next 20 minutes there– masturbating—three times! I suppose there’s no need to explain what I was fantasizing about, is there?
I knew I could not continue playing with Etta regularly. My spontaneous, out-of-control hard-on for her made plain that this would be just too risky. So I would make excuses to my parents to avoid playing when Bridge Club night came around every week. E.g., school work, sporting events, a buddy’s birthday and, occasionally, dates (though all I could think of when I went out on them was Etta’s mouth and ass!). Every couple of months my mom would mention that I was being missed at Bridge Club. So I would sit in for a week or so. But I tried to rotate to partners other than Etta, if at all possible.
This went on for about a year and a half, and it was clear to me that Etta was nonplussed by my more retiring manner towards both the Bridge Club and her. So she made a move. Etta asked my mom to ask me to sit In for Etta’s husband one week when he was going to be out of town on a business trip. How could I say no to my mom when she pleaded with me to do this? Especially since the alternative couple they normally relied on in such absentee situations was simply not going to be available that week. Given that and my thought that spending an entire evening as Etta’s partner actually was a pretty inviting idea now that my addiction for her seemed to be less troublesome, I said I would do it. I was like an alcoholic who thought he had the disease licked simply because he had been sober for a year. Like the alcoholic who thinks he can ‘manage’ his booze, I proved to be mistaken.
Now it was sort of an unwritten rule among the ladies that they would ‘dress up’ for Bridge Club. They would never wear their most dazzling or daring, go-out-on-the-town outfits. But they all made a special effort to look good. When my Bridge Club ‘un-date’ as Etta’s partner arrived, however, she came ‘dressed to kill’ so to speak and was just STUNNING! Her dark cherry lips were matched by a bright red outfit with white lapels which showed off her blonde hair and boobs beautifully. And she was wearing the shortest skirt I had ever seen her in—one that accentuated her ass twitch delightfully. She gave me a wide grin as she came through the front door and, with a sparkle in her eye, said: “I’m told you’re going to be my partner tonight. So looking forward to that.” That caught me off-guard, but I managed to stammer a “Me too” in reply, then headed straight for the bathroom to quickly deal with my swelling cock before the start of our bridge games.
I was somewhat surprised that I played so well given the distraction across the table from me, as well as the one under the table, which remained rather swollen for much of that night. We bid and made another grand slam, as well as a small slam. Etta’s triumphant celebration of those hands, of course, turned my swelling into an all-out erection. But, at least I didn’t have to worry that her husband might come back to the table, forcing me to stand and move. So the situation was manageable. Still, there was more to come. Etta had another shoe to drop.
While we were waiting to move on to another table after a set of rubbers, Etta invited me to meet her in the kitchen as she was getting a drink. As I joined her, it seemed Etta furtively checked out my pants, possibly looking for signs of arousal, and then quickly looked away. It occurred to me this might be a habit of hers. If so, then she certainly must have known of my sexual attraction to her, for my cock swelled on a not-infrequent basis when I was around her, and I was sporting a bit of a pudge in my pants right then and there. I had seen other ladies in the bridge club do the same thing on occasion so it didn’t really shock me or prove all that much. I mean girls at my high school checked out my “package” openly and routinely and without apology. Yet nothing of consequence followed. I’m old enough to know this is just part of a guy-gal sexual ritual that no doubt has been around since the origins of the human race. Guys check out gals’ tits. Gals check out guys’ “packages.” Both check out one another’s ass. Still, if that is what had actually happened, it pleased me that Etta had enough interest in my “package” to check me out.
After mixing and sipping her drink, Etta looked me in the eye and very casually remarked: “Your mom tells me you’re thinking about becoming a lawyer. Is that right?” I replied. “Yeah, I’m thinking about it. Not quite sure what that’s really like though.” Etta rejoined: “Well I have an idea for you. I’m the secretary to a senior partner at one of the big law firms in town. Would you be interested in sitting down with him and chatting about what’s involved in being a lawyer and what sort of lifestyle goes along with that? I can probably arrange that if you’re up for it.” I immediately replied, “That would be great!” So Etta promised she would talk to her senior partner and tell my mom when the meeting could be arranged.
A couple of days later, my mom told me that Etta had called to advise that my meeting with her senior partner was set for Wednesday at noon at their downtown offices. They were not far from my high school. And, since the plan was to meet during the lunch hour, I would have to skip only a post-lunch study period. That was no big deal.
When I showed up for the appointment, Etta met me at the firm’s reception desk. She was dressed in a black pants suit that that was business-like but showed off her curves quite nicely and drew attention to her colorful red lipstick. I thought to myself, “Oh, yummy!’ Etta flashed me a warm smile but it collapsed into a wan one as she said: “I’m afraid I have some bad news. Regrettably, my senior partner was called away for a hearing on an emergency motion that has been scheduled for this afternoon. So he’s not going to be able to see you today. We’ll have to reschedule.” I replied, “Gee that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to speaking with him.” Etta grinned: “We’ll let’s make some lemonade out this lemon. As long as you’re here, why don’t we have lunch together. You can tell me all about the colleges you’re looking into for next year after you graduate, and we can get better acquainted.” I was thrilled to spend some quality time with Etta one on one and readily agreed: “Sounds good. Let’s do it.”
Etta went back to her office and returned with a tote bag slung over her shoulder. Off we went to the elevator and, when we got outside, she led me to the lobby of a hotel across the streel frequented by business people from out of town. I expected to eat in the dining room, but we bypassed that and stopped at the main hotel elevator. Etta explained: “I hate eating lunch downstairs here. It’s always crowded and noisy, and we would have to wait around quite awhile to get a table. So we’re going up to a suite my firm retains for lawyers from our other offices across the country when they come into town on firm business. It’s presently vacant, and my senior partner said we can have lunch on the firm there to make up for his missing your meeting. We can order room service and will have a much quieter environment.” I took Etta’s explanation at face value and quickly replied, “Fine by me,” with a poker face that shielded my delight that I would not only get to spend some one-on-one time with Etta but also some alone time. Little did I then know, that had been Etta’s plan all along.
When Etta opened the door to the suite, I was immediately impressed by its comforts and utilities. It had a big double bed with pillows of multiple sizes, fluffy and otherwise, a high-definition, wide screen tv and music player, a lovely view of downtown, a mini Alexa, a small refrigerator and stove top, a hard liquor bar, with crystal glasses, as well as a small dining area with a table, napkins, silverware, etc. Of course, this was an office suite that had the all the usual equipment an out-of-town lawyer might need for his or her stay: desktop computer, printer, fax and scanner, paper, etc. Etta commented: “Pretty nice, huh?” “Absolutely!” I responded.
Etta stated: “There’s a menu over on the dining table and a phone next to the bed. Why don’t you order us some room service. I’ll have a Caesar’s Salad and glass of wine. Pick out anything you like from the menu. I want to freshen up a bit before lunch. I’ll leave the bathroom door ajar so we can chat if you have any questions about the suite or the lunch menu. Be back in a few minutes.” Off she went with her tote bag in hand, as I wandered around the suite and poured over the menu. I was a bit startled there were so many mouth-watering choices and confounded by all the options. Finally, I settled on ribs and fries after spending almost ten minutes deciding what to have.
While I headed over to the phone to place our room service order, I realized Etta had not specified what sort of wine she wanted. So I called out: “What kind of wine would you like?” Etta responded: “Why don’t you pick one out for me or ask room service for a recommendation?” “Okay,” I replied. *And get a glass for yourself too if you like,” added Etta. “Not sure that would fly with my parents,” I replied. As I was fumbling with the phone trying to identify the room service number without much success, I heard the bathroom door swing wide open and Etta emerge, giggling: “Well I’m not going to rat you out to your parents, you know. This can be our little secret, okay?” Then a pregnant pause followed and she added, sotto voce: “All of it!”
As I chuckled and turned to face Etta wondering what that meant, my mouth went agape! Etta was, for all practical purposes, STARK NAKED!!! There were no bra or panties. The only thing Etta was wearing was a thin, satin, see-through nightie that offered clear lines of sight to her curvy tits and enticing pussy, which was guarded by a neatly trimmed dark blonde bush. A lewd smirk adorned Etta’s pretty face as she exclaimed: “Forget about room service. Here’s what’s really on the menu for lunch!” She slipped out of the nightie, hitched her hips provocatively, extended her hands up her sides, palms out, put her body on full display, seductively twirling it full circle to offer a glimpse of her extraordinary ass, and asked: “Are you at all HUNGRY?”
The “Are you” was spoken in a very matter of fact manner. There was a slightly quizzical tone in Etta’s voice as the “at all” words dripped from her mouth softly. But “HUNGRY”– which escaped her lips after a noticeable pause– was declared in such a confident, brazen manner and deep, guttural voice that it made her own carnal hunger absolutely unmistakable! It could only be fairly described as some sort of lecherous growl! My cock, which had instantly and fully erected when I first laid eyes on Etta after she had come out of the bathroom, began spewing precum as I heard that. Etta– noticing my boner and the wet spot growing on my slacks due to the leakage– proclaimed: “Your Fountain of Youth seems to be bubbling cum young man! I want a good long taste of that!”
Though I was too startled and dumbstruck to reply, my cock had already declared its consent to that game plan. Etta proceeded towards me with lust gleaming in her eyes, dropped to her knees before me and started massaging the boner struggling for release in my pants. She looked up at me with a smug, crooked grin on her face and softly declared: “This is your first time, isn’t it?” I did not and could not deny that, and Etta took my silence as an affirmation: “Not to worry. Mommy will take VERY good care of you, darling. She’s quite happy to see to ALL of your desperately urgent needs, hon.” The role playing obviously turned Etta on, and the “Mommy” moniker sent chills down my spine as well. Moreover, even though Etta may not have been my “Mommy,” she was indeed the mother of two girls about my own age. So the moniker kind of fit anyways.
Within a span of a mere twelve seconds, impelled by what can only be called frantic lust, Etta had yanked off my shoes and socks, unbuckled and unbuttoned my slacks, grabbed onto both them and my undies, offing them in one fell swoop, and exposed a rock-hard boner of seven inches which was jiggering about and still spewing precum– sometimes spurting the jism out in thin rivulets, other times in small globules. I had no control whatsoever over any of that. Etta watched my dick’s quivering dance with fascination and announced: “Oh my, Mommy has SUCH a BIG Boy to play with! How big are you, darling? Tell Mommy: ‘I’m Soooooo Big!,’ ‘Soooooo Big’!” Etta then emitted what can only be described as a ravenous snort and started licking the spurts of precum up, declaring with wolfish satisfaction they were “so tasty, so tasty!” I was just stunned by how captivated Etta was by her ‘Mommy’ role and utterly consumed by wanton, insatiable LUST!!! Could not believe my good fortune that I was, at that moment, its sole target.
Etta then looked me squarely in the eye and softly announced, “It’s time.” She bent her head over, took my whole cock between her ruby red lips and plunged it deep into her throat, bobbing her lovely blonde head up and down my young organ from head to hilt, leaving stains of her red lipstick all over the shaft as she did so. More head bobs followed—three slow ones having many starts and stops to accommodate lascivious tongue licks and laps of the shaft and curls and twirls all around, over and under the head– and one more: a rapid, straight-downstairs, hard thrust with Etta’s mouth holding my cock in a tight grip as she twisted and turned her head all about after reaching the bottom of my cock. That set me off. I just EXPLODED into Etta’s eager, rapacious mouth!!!
I was quite embarrassed that I had not a sliver of self-control and had come so quickly. But Etta was prepared for my premature ejaculation, indeed, seemed to have even expected it. After devouring my cock, she was able to feast on most of my cum, gobbling much of it down her throat, spewing some out her lips and playing with the rest before guzzling it. From time to time, Etta would open her greedy mouth wide just to show off pools of my cum captured there or strands of it stretching from its roof to her slathered tongue below. Hard to say which of her carnal histrionics was the most erotic. But they all electrified my entire nervous system and, it’s fair to say, even my very soul.
What cum had escaped from Etta’s mouth and throat seeped from the sides of her lips or dribbled down her chin and onto her boobs. I lusted to lick my cum off Etta’s chin and tits but simply did not have the energy to do so. I was panting, still shivering from the carnal commotion which had just engulfed me and activated the synapses of every nerve in my body. I was SPENT, totally abashed, shaken by all that had just taken place, and truly astonished that it had happened SOOO damn suddenly and unexpectedly!!!
After wiping the leftover cum from her face with her tongue and fingers and slurping it away, Etta shared her lips with mine for the first time. Oh My God, I thought, our first kiss! It was short and sweet, a very tender one which was soon followed by a series of much more passionate ones and erotic French Kisses. Somehow, I did find the energy to at least reciprocate and relish them. After Etta broke our kissing off, I apologized for being such a cad and not at least kissing her before blowing sloppy wads of my cum into her head.
Etta responded, “Be still, my Young Stud! I have so much raw lust for you that has been building up for years now I never gave you a chance to do that. Went straight for your cock before you could offer any foreplay, It was my choice to do that. My lust that inspired that. My bad so to speak. So just relax and rest up for a little while. There is SO much more Mommy wants to do to and with you today young man! Fret not over your premature ejaculation. You will be coming again very soon and, precisely because of that ejaculation, you’ll be able to last much longer for Mommy when we start up again shortly. Indeed, Mommy saved our genital fucking for later for that very reason.”
I looked deep into Etta’s eyes, gave her a sheepish grin and said: “Thanks, Etta. That was just fucktastic, truly fucktastic! Can’t wait for more!, The next thing I want to do is to get a good long taste of your own carnal juices, okay? I want to become Mommy’s good boy and please Mommy as well as she has just pleased me!” Etta looked at me quite intently for a full fifteen seconds. She may have been happy that I had bought into the role playing but probably was wondering whether a newbie like me would even know how to induce a stream of her carnal juices. But even if she assumed the worst case scenario that I was just clueless, Etta surely would know that she herself was perfectly capable of teaching me how best to please her.
Etta finally responded: “So shall it be. Mommy is already pleased. But she looks forward to further relishing the pleasures of your young flesh, especially of your tongue, which Mommy will train. However, there is nothing more randy and voracious than a virgin cock of good size in a frenzy to release its long-pent-up carnal fruits. So Mommy will give BIG Boy free reign to exploit his own ways of ravishing Mommy! I’m quite sure Mommy will savor them!”
Etta ended the conversation with a gluttonous smirch adorning her fetching blonde face, then curved her tongue up and stuck it out at me with her fingers in her ears as if she were playfully teasing and mocking me like an innocent little girl. My God was that a very naughty and hot, hot, hot exclamation point to the first phase of our lovemaking. For we both knew Etta was no such thing, but rather a very experienced, very lewd seductress, my very wicked, very horny “Mommy”!
To be continued.