Got MILF? (3 page)

As my breathing grew faster, so did hers. I could feel her warm breath flow over my cock. The sticky, wet noises of her hand masturbating me filled the car. Apart from my occasional moans, neither of us said a word.

I looked at her eyes, and they instinctually rose to meet mine. There was excitement and a little hesitation there, but no shame.

God, she was amazing.

I had to ask her. “Can I… can I see your chest?”

She smiled wordlessly, and with some feigned hesitation, tugged her neckline down, revealing her two perfectly sculpted breasts under a lacy, see-through bra. Beneath the dark floral knots, I caught sight of two nipples, each like a wide drop of bronze paint.

Without asking, I reached over and wrapped my hand around her left breast. “Eddie!” she protested as I pulled her bra down. For the first time, she looked sincerely reluctant. But it was too late; my hand was on her bare tit and there was nothing she could do about it.

Thank God for Uncle Esteban’s fat paycheck. Her plastic surgeon is a master!

The moment my hungry fingers pressed down upon that silicone globe, I felt the powerful rush of orgasm. It was mind-meltingly good. Time lost all meaning, and as soon as the pleasure began to subside I was greeted with the image of my future aunt with her piercing grey eyes wide like and her mouth in a shocked ‘O’; one breast exposed, and her hand drenched in my seed.

All my boldness dissipated with the exit of my libido.

I had done a bad, bad thing.

We snapped out of it. My uncle’s fiancé released my sticky cock and wiped her slender, mature hand over my t-shirt. Man, I was bound to smell strange when got home.

Estella then proceeded to reach into the glove compartment and fish out a bundle of tissues. With these, she wiped her hands clean, and then took care of a few stray droplets that had made it onto the car seat. She spat into a wad of tissues a few times and scrubbed a particularly dirty spot, praying in Spanish that it would come off.

When Estella was done, she lowered the window on the passenger side and threw the wad of tissues out, the wind carrying our dirty secrets away.

“All right,” she said in a hushed voice. “Where were we?”

The rest of the lesson went as smooth as I could have hoped. It was only when I pulled up to my house again that I felt the nervous jitters return. I rushed out of the driver’s side, past my mother as she was about to ask how my lesson went. Before darting through the open front door, I heard Estella explaining to Mom that I’d gotten very sweaty from the nerves, and that I was probably eager for a shower.

While I stood under the warm, rushing water, I replayed those moments in the car when Estella had my shaft in her hands and was milking me dry. I’d been masturbated before by a girl I’d had a meager two-month relationship with, but Clara’d had no idea what she was doing. The girl had grown up on a dairy farm, and had assumed it would be no different to milking an udder. By the end of her sad attempts at pleasuring me, my cock was always raw, saw, and barely satisfied.

But Estella…fuck, that woman knew how to work her hands! Just the thought of it made me…

I looked down. My penis throbbed with a dull pain as it filled with blood again.
Too soon, man
, my dick seemed to tell me.
Give me another ten.

No can do, buddy
. I looked to the shower caddy and smeared a dollop of face moisturizer on my crotch; the birthday present having been resigned to that one purpose since the day I got it.

I always felt a little gross after beating off in the shower, seeing as how I shared it with my sister, but this time, I had nothing but good feelings.

And damn, they were good. I used the soft shower loofah to pretend it was Estella’s wet bush gliding up and down my shaft.

There was a knock on the door.

“Eddie honey, dinner’s on in five.”

“Coming, Mom.”

“All right, but hurry. You’ve been in there twenty minutes already.”

“I said I’m coming,” I rubbed the loofah with more speed and vigor, anticipating the awesome burst of pleasure.

I heard my kid sister just outside, complaining as usual. “Is he still in there? Eddie, hurry up, I’m going to be late for the sleepover at Meagan’s!”

They were really killing the mood.

“I said I’m
coming
!”

And I did.

~~~~~

Without my knowledge, Mom had gone ahead and booked lessons for several more weeks. She mentioned something about a discount if you get the seven-week package.

Maybe Estella just wanted more of my seven-inch package.

(Okay, seven may be stretching it a bit)

Truth be told, I had no idea what would happen on our second lesson. Part of me worried, and suspected, that she would simply put the whole event behind her; a mistake made with a horny teen that she wouldn’t let happen again. After all, she had a good thing going with my uncle.

But there was no way I wouldn’t try my luck again. For the whole week, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her or her amazing skills. I hadn’t gone near any porn sites; all of my sexual fantasies revolved around my soon-to-be aunt’s big booty, breasts, and her awesome grip. It was all I could do to not cream my pants the moment her horn sounded outside my house.

Like Pavlov’s dogs salivating at the sound of a bell.

I jumped inside the car and made no effort to hide my erection. In fact, despite it being a chilly October morning, I’d opted for shorts. Yes, they exposed my sad, skinny legs, but it would make whipping the big boy out easier.

I pulled away from my house, and Estella directed me through the same route as last time.

Watching her from the corner of my eye, in that low-cut, chest-hugging uniform made me sweat.

I drew closer to the dangerous intersection. Estella seemed oddly calm given that I came close to totaling her car the last time we were there.

And then, she quietly ordered me to go straight ahead.

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Straight.”

“But aren’t we supposed to…” I was confused, and a little disappointed. If she was taking me down a different route, she probably meant for there to be no hands-on fun.

She directed me into a vacant car lot, turned the ignition off for me, and pierced me with her eyes.

“All right,” she began, her tone deadly serious. “Since you insist on showing that thing off to me from under your shorts, we might as well get it over with. Come on; whip him out so I can take care of him.”

Thank you, Jesus!

She didn’t have to ask me twice. In fact, she barely pumped me five times before I let out my explosive load all over her hand and over my stupid shorts. Yeah, it was sad; five strokes and I was out. But she laughed, made a snide remark about teenagers always being quick shooters, and we continued with our lesson.

And that was what all of our lessons were like from that day onwards. Estella would direct me to a new, quiet place, I would expose my turgid cock, and our lesson wouldn’t continue until her hand was drenched in my cum.

You would think that it became a routine of sorts. It did, but the great thing about Estella was she would always make the experience unique; finding some fun, new location to spill my seed. And she always left me guessing exactly
when
the time would come for me to, well, cum. On the fourth lesson, she didn’t jerk me off until we were literally one street away from home. Another time, she decided I was ready to drive in ‘hard mode’, and jerked me off while I was cruising down Saint Anne Boulevard at sixty-five miles per hour. I guess that shows she had good faith in my driving.

So as you can see, no two of Estella’s handjobs were the same. And they didn’t simply differ in time and place; sometimes she would even change up her position. Once, she laid herself down over my lap and masturbated me right in front of her face, so I could feel the warm breath from her nose against my sensitive tip. Once, to my complete surprise, she sat on my lap with both of her tits exposed, and jerked me off while my hands had a field day on her chest. It was incredible. Every lesson was like walking into a wet dream, to the point where it was only after I finally came that I could be sure it was reality.

Not that she didn’t visit me in my dreams, as well; but there, we always took it to the next level.

Which begs the question: why didn’t I get her to do more with me? At the very least, I could have gotten a blowjob. Believe me, I tried. But Estella would shoot me down any time I brought up doing anything more than a handjob. I guess that’s as far as she was willing to let her infidelity go. Which was devastating, since it would have been pure bliss to watch my dick disappear between those succulent lips.

But wait, my story doesn’t end there.

Estella was rather proud of the quick progress I was making behind the wheel. In fact, by the end of the seven-week block she decided to sign me up for the test at the local DMV. Hey, if she thought I could do it, I probably could. There was only one problem: I’d been taking every one of my lessons with a relaxing tug on my junk. I doubted some tired old bag with emphysema at the DMV would be so generous (not that I would want her to be!), so the conditions would not be the same.

My foxy future aunt knew how to amend that. On our final lesson, she directed me down a totally new route. The sun was setting around us (she insisted our last lesson be at night), and so my desperate erection wasn’t obvious within the shadows of the car.

Once we hit the forty-five minute mark, I was sweating bullets, worried that I wouldn’t get the sweet hand relief I’d grown so used to.

The traffic was getting heavy, and we were waiting at a set of red lights when I finally worked up the courage to ask her.

“Estella, uh, since we’re just sitting here, you know, waiting, I was wondering if maybe I could get…”

She was flicking around on her phone. “Stupid GPS,” she mumbled. “Where the hell are we… oh, huh?”

I cleared my throat. “I was just asking if I’ll be getting… you know. My usual motivator?”

“Oh,” she said casually, then put her phone away. “Well, you obviously won’t be getting any of
that
during your test, so for this last lesson, I’m going to see how well you manage without.”

That cruel woman.

“Ok, I get that. But…can I at least get it after we’re done? You know, something to look forward to?”

She smirked. “What, in front of your house? When your Mom comes out to say hello and ask how you went? Don’t tell me you’d be into
that
.”

I swallowed.
Nope
. “There has to be another way. Come on, Estella, I’m rock-hard. Please?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m your instructor, and what I say goes. Now after we get past these freaking lights, take the first right.”

Frustrated, I followed her direction. But most of my attention was hanging on the end of my thick cock, such that I didn’t realize the first right I took led us into the shadowy depths of a seedy side street.

It was only when I heard Estella cursing her choice of directions that I snapped out of my horny reverie. “Are we supposed to be here?” I asked, slowing as I continued down the side street.

She muttered something, unhooked her seatbelt, and turned around to look back the way we came. I turned on the overhead light to catch a great view of her ass.

“Turn that off!” she hissed.

“Fine.” What I wouldn’t give to press my face between those cheeks now.

Then came the sound of gunfire.

Estella screamed.

I pushed down on the brakes and tried not to have a heart attack. My sudden fear sucked the blood right out of my cock.

“Jesus, turn around, Eddie!”

“I can’t, there’s no room!” It was clearly a one-way street, and the sides were lined with garbage cans, bags of trash, and hulking dumpsters.

Another shot rang out, and I felt my asshole clench up.

Estella reached across me and turned the headlights off.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

Estella’s breath was fast and deep. “Reverse the car.
Now
.”

“No way, those shots came from behind us! At least, I think they did.”

“
Mierda
,” Estella swore. “Oh God, please let us get out of here.” After a few minutes, she breathed deep in through her nose and said. “Okay, I don’t know if those shots came from in front or behind us. I didn’t see any flash.” She turned to me. “Did you?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. Okay let’s just… let’s just roll forward. Slowly. This street can’t go on for too long, can it?”

“And what if we drive up to whoever made those shots?”

“Just shut up and drive.”

I tapped the accelerator and let the car make its way down the dark side street. “At least keep an eye out in case I’m about to hit something.”

This went on for what felt like forever. Eventually, I heard the sound of faint, thumping hip-hop music. I looked at Estella and found her returning my gaze.
Shit, someone’s out there in front of us
.

“Keep going,” she whispered. “And if you see someone threatening, floor it.”

The car rolled further, the music slowly growing louder. Eventually, we passed a huge dumpster to find the glow of a light drifting out of an open doorway.

Illuminated in the glow was a fat man, kneeling in front of three shadowy figures, one of whom was pointing a large finger at him. Something that looked like a pile of discarded clothes lay beside the kneeling man.

There was something familiar about the shape and size of that fat man, and it filled me with dread. A screeching voice in my head yelled at me to get out as fast as I could.

“Dios mio…” Estella whispered, leaning forward to get a better look at the clump of figures out in the distance. “Is that…Rolando?”

I squinted. My fears were confirmed.

It was him. My fat fuck of a cousin was right there, kneeling next to the pile of clothes with a finger in his face.

A finger of metal that delivered quick, hot bursts of lead.

The person holding the gun to my cousin’s head had reduced Danny, Rolando’s best friend, to a steaming corpse in the alley.