Read Got MILF? Online

Authors: Laura Lovecraft

Tags: #milf, #cougar, #sexy older woman, #teacher, #student, #blowjob, #oral sex, #hardcore sex, #outdoor sex, #rite of passage, #fantasy, #nature spirit, #Eternal being, #Russian folklore

Got MILF? (6 page)

BOOK: Got MILF?
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She made an impressed noise. “What did you do, kill a mafia boss?”

I bit my tongue.

My passenger changed the subject rather quickly. “So Mom said she taught you to drive, huh?”

I nodded.

“What’s she like as a teacher? Did she touch you?”

I nearly choked. “W-what?”

“I said was she tough with you?”

“Oh,” I relaxed. “Um, kind of. You could say she had a firm gr— I mean, she was firm.”

Mia laughed. When she brushed her thick hair back, I noticed the row of silver rings that adorned her ear and instantly wondered what it would be like passing my tongue around them. Maybe they weren’t the only piercings she had.

“She taught me to drive, too. That was a nightmare. If she’d been with Esteban back then, I would’ve much rather had him teach me.”

That confused me. “Why?”

She shrugged, but there was a glimmer in her eye that hinted at something. She pushed her hair behind her ear, and I thanked God we weren’t moving. To say she was distracting would be an understatement. She removed her black, thick-rimmed glasses and hung them on the neck of her shirt, drawing my attention to her chest.

I gripped the wheel harder and stared ahead. “Man, I hope we get moving soon. Don’t want to leave those two stranded at the airport.”

Mia whipped out her phone, and after thirty seconds said, “And their plane’s on time. Looks like they’ll be waiting on us.”

After a moment of awkward silence, I decided to push ahead with what she’d said before. “So…why exactly would you rather Tio Ernesto teach you to drive?”

She watched me for a while, as if she deciding how to phrase her next words. She opted for something simple: “It would be fun.”

I laughed the most tense, awkward laugh ever. “What do you mean?” She shrugged again, and it drove me wild. “Seriously, how would it be fun? Or more fun than with Estella?” It felt like this conversation was leading somewhere strange and interesting; a place I simultaneously feared and longed to go.

“Let’s just say I have my Mom’s looks… and her tastes.”

I stared at her, and when she saw I didn’t get her, Mia rolled her eyes and clarified. “In
men
.”

“Oh.” I looked back down the road, sorting through a bunch of stupid thoughts until I came to the right thing to ask next. “So… you like him?”

There was that laugh again. “That’s
one
way of putting it.”

When the silence became too long, Mia stretched like a hungry cat beside me and continued. “Mom likes all kinds of men, but I know she doesn’t exclusively like guys her own age. She loves hunting for younger meat, too.”

Boy, don’t I know it.
“And what about you?”

“Like I said, we have the same tastes. Esteban’s attractive, but so are
all
the guys she’s fooled around with.”

I could feel her gaze burning into my head. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was completely dry. Even breathing became a little difficult.

Mia went in for the kill. “Did you enjoy it?”

There was no point asking what she meant. I nodded. “Yes.”

“A lot?”

I could barely look at her. “A lot.”

That seemed to satisfy her. But then the big question formed in my head; one that meant everything. “Does… does Esteban know?”

She bit her lip. “Do you think he’d still be with her if he did?”

The relief that washed over me was almost powerful enough to mask my guilt.

“I guess she told you, then?”

“Mom and I share everything. It sounded like you two got up to a lot of trouble.”

Then it hit me. She’d known about El Coyote all along. She knew where this car had come from. She fucking knew
everything.

Which meant that this whole conversation could have been one big attempt at extortion. This girl, who was my age and I’d only just met, had me by the balls.

I couldn’t let the question go unasked. “Are you going to tell him? Or anyone?”

“That depends.” She whispered in response, but I still heard it over all the traffic.

“On what?” My heart and stomach were just about to declare mutiny from my body.

She bit her lip again. “How good you are at silencing me.”

~~~~~

As it turned out, she
did
have other piercings. It felt exquisite flicking my tongue over the metal rings that encircled her nipples, and her squeals of delight when I did made me harder than I had been in a very long time. Compared to her mother, Mia’s breasts were a natural C-cup that jiggled and moved in my grip in a manner that was totally different to Estella’s silicone globes. When I pulled down her tight jeans and cupped my hands around her butt, however, the familiarity was surreal.

Of course, where things got very different was when I entered Mia and felt her younger, tighter muscles close around me. Don’t get me wrong, having sex with Estella had been incredible (and your first time is always going to be memorable), but a forty-year-old MILF is always going to feel different to a nineteen-year-old, irrespective of how similar they were in other ways.

Mia’s cries of ecstasy filled the back of my car, and the car’s suspension dealt with our shared thrusts well. Thank goodness for the tinted windows as well. It sounded like the congestion was easing up, as I could hear the traffic flying past the rest area we had parked in at a much faster speed than fifteen minutes before. Our thighs were getting more and more soaked the longer we fucked, but by that time I had learned to keep a clean sheet in the back of the car to protect the upholstery.

Oh, another way that Mia and her mother differed was in their kisses. I mentioned the difference to Mia on the drive to the airport, which made her laugh and say, “If I believed in horoscopes, I’d say that’s because I’m a Virgo.” In a way, they were the opposite of what you would expect. Estella, a seasoned MILF, kissed like an animal having its first meal in days. Her daughter, on the other hand, was subtle; she kissed and licked me around the lips, my ears, my neck – everywhere besides directly on the mouth. It was only when things really heated up that she finally allowed herself to press her lips against mine, and then our tongues locked. She had none of the voraciousness I had come to expect from other girls our age – and her mother, of course.

She also came quickly, which was an incredible surprise. She whispered in my ear to hold out, that she wanted us to come together, and when we did it was like a burst of hot, white flashes had erupted in the car. I hadn’t been using protection, and I had no idea if she was on the pill, but none of that mattered. We came like the two of us were made for fucking one another. Sex with Estella was an absolutely life-changing experience. It was no different with her daughter.

As we drove off, arriving a full hour later than we were supposed to, I couldn’t shake a certain feeling out of my system. When we finally met Esteban and Estella at the terminal, and they joked that, like typical kids, we were hopeless at getting anywhere on time, I barely registered either of them or the words they said. I loved seeing Estella again – she was more beautiful than even I’d remembered – but the obsession for her had evaporated. All of a sudden, took it completely for granted that she and Esteban belonged to one another, and the knowledge that she would probably never touch me again didn’t really sting anymore.

And what’s more, I could tell from the way Estella looked at me that she knew. She knew my heart no longer belonged to her.

And when her gaze shifted from me to her daughter, she was happy.

“So, you guys get along okay in the car? The traffic must have been a nightmare,” poor, oblivious Esteban asked.

“I bet they became fast friends,” Estella commented before either of us could respond.

“I dunno; I think we gave it a good half an hour.” Mother and daughter shared a look that only I understood. Esteban didn’t have the faintest clue about anything that was going on in his new, immediate family. Of course, that was for the best.

I drove the four of us back to their house, and as soon as my uncle and new aunt dropped their luggage on the floor they looked at each other like they were very eager to continue their honeymoon.

They didn’t have to breathe a word to me, or to Mia. We left, and on the drive out of their apartment complex I asked Mia where she was staying.

“Other side of town. But don’t worry about that yet. I have a curiosity I need to satisfy.”

“Oh yeah?” I responded, much more calm and collected than I had been the first time we met. “What’s on your mind?”

She giggled. “I want to see where it happened. Between you and Mom.”

A strange request, but at that time she could have asked me to go skinny dipping with electric eels and I probably would have agreed.

“Can do. It was in a car park, but it was at night. There isn’t really much to see there.”

“I know,” she responded. “But there’s plenty to do.”

 

 

 

 

The Snow Maid

By Alana Church

Copyright 2015 Alana Church

 

== || < > || ==

~~ All characters in this book are 18 or over. ~~

== || < > || ==

 

 

The dying man got dressed.

Not that dying was going to be very hard, Bill Carter thought with a weak thread of his old humor.
Easier than dressing, at least.
Pain hampering every move in his hands and wrists, he managed to zip and button his heavy parka. A thick wool cap was forced over his head and ears, and he pulled the hood of his coat over it all. He eyed his boots with a malevolent glare, then bent down to force them over his numb feet.

Lastly, the gloves. Using his teeth to aid his clumsy, frozen fingers, he pulled them on, grateful that the weak light from the electric lamp did not show him the ruin of his once-healthy body. Breath steaming in the brutally cold air, he shuffled over to Olaf and nudged him with his foot. Once, then again. Outside, the raging wind howled inland from the Kara Sea, shrieking its fury at anyone who was stupid or foolish enough to dare to challenge it.

Olaf's eyes blinked open. The large Swede looked up, frost crystals in his beard.

“I am just going outside, Olaf,” Bill said shakily, keeping his voice low so he didn't wake the others. “And I may be some time. Make sure you close and tie the door flap behind me. I can't do much with these anymore,” he said with a weak wave of his hands.

“My friend,” Olaf said, his voice weak, “Are you sure?”

Bill did not trust himself enough to speak. Instead, he nodded. Olaf slowly crawled out of his sleeping bag and staggered over to the front of the tent. Silently, he gripped Bill's shoulder. Frozen tears formed on his cheeks as he wept.

“May the good God bring you home safe, my friend.”

“And you,” Bill replied, though he had given up his belief in the almighty on this hellish journey. “Get back safe to that pretty wife of yours, and give her a child or two.”

“If I do, one of them will share your name. Go now, before my heart breaks.” He knelt on the frozen canvas and unzipped the front flap.

Bill Carter took one last deep breath, and committed suicide.

~~~~~

It was easier than he thought. The powdery snow did not hamper his movements much, and he was able to set a good pace. It was only a matter of moments before he had left the ragged, windswept camp which was all that remained of the once proud Russian-American Novaya Zemlya Expedition.

A tribute, Bill thought bitterly, to American arrogance and Russian incompetence and corruption. The expedition had been the brainchild of a consortium of oil and mining firms, who were convinced that vast amounts of precious metals and petroleum could be found and extracted along the hostile coast of Arctic Russia. They had underwritten the costs, and forty men and women had been chosen to take part in an expedition to Novaya Zemlya, a pair of islands off the northwest Russian mainland.

However, the expedition had been grounded for weeks by foul weather. With the narrow window to do fieldwork closing, the lead American, a geologist for the petroleum industry, had insisted that they fly in on a huge Chinook helicopter, and wait for the supporting water craft to meet them where their base was to be established. He had ignored the advice of the mission meteorologist, a bright young man from St. Paul, Minnesota, named William Carter.

BOOK: Got MILF?
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