How I Came to Do My Best Friend's Mother

(Part 1 from 2)

I’ll never forget the summer my best friend, Tom and his family moved to what I thought was the country. Tom’s dad was quite wealthy and the new house (if you can call it that) was like an estate complete with guest house, swimming pool and a three hole practice golf course. The pool was great and was perfect for lap swimming (I was on the swim team in high school and was thinking about trying out for the college team) and Tom told me that I was welcome any time I wanted to drive out there. I decided that I would take him up on that this coming Friday since I was off and, in fact, was off the entire weekend. I called the Bolger’s house and asked for Tom. His mom, Linda, answered the phone and when I told her who it was she said “Steve, you really ought to come out and see our new house, swim in the pool and play our little golf course. I told her that was why I was calling, to see if it was ok with Tom if I came over Friday. She said that it was fine and asked me to stay for the weekend. I said great. I have to tell you, Mrs. Bolger is built like the proverbial brick shit house. She is a beauty. I’m going to guess that she’s about 40 or so, maybe not that old. She’s about 5’7”, dark red hair and tits that won’t quit. Maybe I’m getting carried away here, but I’d say she’s got a pair of 38 C’s that I’d give anything to play with.

Anyway, early Friday morning I jumped in my car with my little “overnight” bag which contained a change of cloths and my swim gear. It only took about forty minutes or so to get to Bolger’s house and when I arrived I was greeted by Linda Bolger. Damn, she was looking good. “Steve, c’mon, I’ve set up a room in the guest house next to the pool that you can use this weekend. I followed her through the front door of the house, through the house and out the back door. We were standing on this huge deck that went from one end of this humongous house to the other. I stopped to look out over this magnificent “back yard.” There were steps in the center of the deck which descended to the patio below. The patio also formed the deck around this enormous swimming pool (it was about 25 meters long….that’s 75 feet….and it was about half that wide. The patio-deck was made of this stone composition that Mrs. B said didn’t absorb heat so you couldn’t burn your feet. We walked around the pool and took a short walkway that led to this guest house which was about as big as the house my family lives in. Mrs. B took me inside and showed me my room and said that if I wanted to do some laps now would be a great time since Tom had to go into work unexpectedly and wouldn’t be back till supper time around 6 or so. Well, it was only 10 a.m. now and I really felt like a work out so I changed to my speedo, pulled on a pair of cut offs and a t shirt, grabbed a towel and headed back out to the pool. I tossed the towel on one of the lounges, dropped my cutoffs and walked over to the pool. Out of habit, I ran the toes of my right foot over the surface to check the temperature and it was perfect. I stretched a little and dove in. When I start swimming laps it’s as though I’m in a different world. In a 25 meter pool 70 laps or so equals a mile so I usually divide that between crawl , breast stroke and butterfly.

After that first mile, it depends on what I have coming up as to how much more I’ll swim. If I training for a competition I will do several sets before quitting. But, hey, this was a weekend, I figured I’d just see how I felt and take it from there. After I finished the 70 laps I felt pretty good, but the sun was warm and I thought I’d catch some rays and then maybe swim some more. So I got out, put on some sun screen and stretched out on the chaise to bake for awhile. You know how it is in the sun, after you have been cooking for awhile you enter the realm of the slightly dazed. I had my eyes closed and I suppose when I heard the splash of someone jumping in the pool I was, to say the least, disoriented. I opened my eyes and I saw Linda, sorry, Mrs. B moving easily across the pool, first free style and then upon her pivot, the back stroke, heading towards my end of the pool. I was mesmerized as I watched her lithe figure go from pool end to pool end. After about 15 minutes I guess, she decided she’d had enough and got out of the pool. My god, her tits were barely covered by the top of the bikini she was wearing…just enough to cover each erect nipple. The bottom half of the suit was quite small and the material thin enough that I could see her labia outlined by the material. She came over to where I was laying (I grabbed a towel as I felt myself become larger as she walked towards me). She pulled one of the other lounges closer to mine and draped a towel over the back and laid down. “That feels so good Steve, doing a few laps and then letting the sun dry you off…how many did you do?” I told her I did 70 and was thinking about doing some more if I could bring myself out of this trance long enough to jump in the pool. She sat up and brought her legs over to the side of her lounge chair and sat up, grabbing the towel I had draped over the area covered by my speedo and playfully snapped it at me as another guy might do in the shower room. “Steve, you’ve matured quite a bit since the last time you stayed over at our house.” I was trying to think when that might have been and it was probably a few years before. While Tom and I were close, our families were in different social strata so most of our contact was at school. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mrs. B?” “Hey, quit the Mrs. B stuff, you’re a college man now, how about calling me Linda?” “Okay, sure, er, Linda.” For the next half hour or so we chatted about school, about where I was going, where Tom was going and how the new house was to get used to.

 I was taken by surprise when Linda moved closer and began running her hand up my inner thigh. “You really have some muscle here, Steve, you must work out as well.” I told her I did workout in the gym three or 4 days a week in addition to my swimming. Before I knew it her fingers had touched my balls and I could feel my cock begin to swell to her touch. But, come on, this is your best friend’s mother. I mean, what the hell was going on here. “Linda, I mean, what, I’m confused.” “Steve, I can tell that I’ve caused you to be aroused and I would apologize, but I’m really not sorry. I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to stroke your penis and then feel it slide into my vagina.” Well, I can tell you, I began wondering the same thing and I could feel my member straining to break out of that speedo. Before I could say anything, Linda was massaging the inside of my other thigh and made no effort to disguise the fact that she was trying to touch my balls and trace the outline of my cock. As she did so I continued getting harder. “Mrs. B, I mean Linda, what if your husband or Tom were to see you doing that to me?” “Well, Steve, Mr. B is out of town and Tommy won’t be home for several hours yet.” She took my hand and literally pulled me towards the guest house. When we entered you could feel the coolness of the slate floor and the gentle whoosh of the air conditioning. She led the way to the room she had just shown me to a couple of hours earlier. We stood there for a minute and she went over to this closet, which turned out to be a sound system, and turned on some quiet music.

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