“Would you like to feel them, Michael?”

Startled, I nearly tipped my drink all over the floor.

It wasn’t an invitation I’d expected to receive. Certainly not from Mrs Robinson! I placed the glass carefully back on the table, not wanting to spill red wine on her valuable Persian rug.

Reaching out, Catherine deliberately took my hands into her own, and placed them on her breasts…

-----

To say the events of that afternoon had taken an unexpected turn would be the understatement of my young life.

As arranged, I’d called round to see my friend, Jack. We were going to celebrate my nineteenth birthday by getting horribly drunk together, eating pizza, and watching porn.

Instead, I was surprised when his mum had answered the door, looking absolutely stunning in a dress that had my jaw dropping. I could see every inch of her bare legs all the way from her low-heeled sandals, up to—well, somewhere that wasn’t leaving much to the imagination.

I found that my imagination was, however, trying very hard to picture what was hidden at the top of her legs, underneath her very short dress.

“I’m sorry, Michael—Jack was called into work this morning. Didn’t he text you? I’ve only just got back myself. I’ve been out for lunch with my friend Cynthia.”

She hesitated. I was aware that my mouth was hanging open. I quickly closed it, biting my tongue painfully in the process.

“Why don’t you come in? You can tell me how Jack’s getting on. He doesn’t tell me anything these days. If you want, you can wait here for him until he finishes his shift—I know you two were planning something. It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

Somewhat stunned, and not wanting to seem too eager, I followed Mrs Robinson inside, watching the movement of her buttocks under the skimpy little dress with a sudden sense of discovery. I’d never seen her dressed like this before, and I was rapidly revising my view of Mrs R as a woman!

“Coffee—or would you prefer a beer? I’m having a glass of wine—not my first, I’m afraid. I got a bit carried away over lunch, but hey, it’s been that kind of day!” she said brightly.

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant but, oh lordy—it looked like she might be half-cut! It was 3pm. Was it too early for a beer? Actually…

“Um, maybe I could join you in a glass of wine, Mrs Robinson. Would that be okay?”

“Of course! And please—call me Catherine! I’m drinking red, if that’s alright?”

“Sure.” Anything! All of a sudden, I realised I really needed a drink. Here I was, all alone with Mrs Robinson, and I was suddenly having strangely erotic feelings I couldn’t have imagined before today. Had I been blind?

She’d always been Jack’s mum. Today, it was like seeing a totally different woman. Now she was…

What was she?

She was smokin’ hot, that’s what! Dazzling. I could feel my cock stiffening at the sudden raft of fantasies starting to permeate my thoughts. Thoughts that I’d definitely never had before. My mind was beginning to run riot thinking about what was under that little dress of hers. I became very aware of the swell of her breasts, and images invaded my mind; images of what she might look like if she took the dress off.

“Sorry…?”

“I asked you how Jack was getting on?”

“Oh, sorry, I was—I was distracted.”

“Yes, I noticed,” she said with a wry smile. She looked like she didn’t mind, though. I mean, did she have any idea what was going through my mind?

Christ, Michael, get a grip!

We talked for a few minutes about Jack, and how he was getting on at college. I was having difficulty concentrating on what Mrs Robinson was saying, so conscious was I of her feminine curves. I almost felt like I was being seduced. I couldn’t prevent my eyes returning to look at Catherine’s legs. She did rather seem to be deliberately giving me a good view. I realised what she’d said earlier was spot on—she’d clearly had a drink or three already, and seemed just a little bit tiddly.

Maybe she was reading my mind because, suddenly, the conversation took a new and unexpected turn.

“How about you, Michael? You’re about to turn nineteen, and are such a handsome young man. You must have the girls falling for you all the time?”

Oh no. Now the conversation was becoming awkward.

“Not really, Mrs Robinson.”

“Oh, come on—a sexy looking thing like you…”

Did she just call me a ‘sexy looking thing!' Bloody hell! Where was this going?

“Er, actually, Mrs Robinson, I’ve never really been out with anyone.”

I hadn’t been out with anyone for several reasons. One of them was that I was too shy, and could never muster up the courage. I mean, look what happened when I fancied the pants of Caroline Bates that time. Nothing! That’s what. And then someone else asked her out, and the moment was gone.

She laughed gently. “I find that kind of hard to believe. Look at you! You’re gorgeous!”

I could feel myself blushing furiously. Now, I just needed to crawl under a stone and disappear!

“Um…”

“There must be girls you fancied at school, Michael? And now that you’re at college?”

My face must have been the colour of beetroot by now. How could I explain this to Jack’s mum for crying out loud?

“Of—of course there are, Mrs Robinson. It’s just—It’s just that I’m not very good at asking girls out.” And—until now, I’d sort of given up on the female of the species. But I couldn’t say that. Especially now. And especially not to Catherine Robinson, who had me rapidly reassessing things, confusing me with an allure and sex appeal that had my stomach tied in knots.

She looked speculatively across the top of her glass at me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Absolutely not! No, no, no. Not in a million years! No! I just couldn’t.

Not without a lot more wine…

“Um, do you think I could have another glass of wine, Mrs Robinson?”

A look of understanding, and—what? Compassion? — swept across her face.

“Of course, Michael. You look like you need it almost as much as me!”

Catherine gave me the coy little smile she seemed to be so fond of, as she topped up our glasses.

“Then you can tell me all about the girls you haven’t asked out.”

Oh God.

-----

Catherine had opened a second bottle. I was getting drunk.

“Do you mean, you really haven’t had sex with a girl? I can’t believe you’re a virgin Michael.”

How long had we been chatting? Was it minutes, or only hours? Christ, that didn’t make sense! Or maybe it did? We seemed to be going around in circles. Why hadn’t the ground opened up and swallowed me yet?

“God, it’s so bloody ridiculous, isn’t it! There you are, all innocent, and totally unaware of your appeal to women. Real women, I mean, Michael—not those stupid young tarts you’ve been telling me about, who don’t have the sense to see what’s in front of them! And here I am, a middle-age mum, over the hill, and desperately in need of a good fuck.”

Jesus!

“It’s just so difficult to have sex these days. There’s all the hassle of going out and meeting somebody at a club, or online, and you get your hopes up, but it nearly always ends up disappointing, doesn’t it? And frankly, I just can’t be bothered.”

She eyed me up.

“I was talking about this with my friend, Cynthia. We had a bit of heart to heart earlier. It’s why I’m…” she gestured to herself, “like this!” I didn’t know if she referring to how she was dressed, or the fact that she’d drunk the best part of a bottle of wine.

“Cynth seems to attract men so easily, with all those lovely curves she’s got. ‘Catherine,’ she told me, ‘you just need a jolly good rogering. Keep your eyes open, and don’t let the next opportunity pass you by’.”

This conversation had become totally surreal.

“Y—You’re not over the hill, Mrs Robinson.”

“Please call my Catherine, Michael. How many times do I have to tell you?”

I swallowed, the wine finally overcoming my natural shyness, and banishing the nerves.

“I think you’re incredibly attractive, Mrs—Catherine.”

She gave me a weak smile.

“Do you, Michael? It’s so nice of you to say.”

“I mean it, Catherine. You look—simply stunning!”

She gave an exasperated sigh.

“Then there must be something we can do to—to rectify our mutual needs. What do you think, Michael?”

My heart stopped. Did she mean what I thought she meant?

She looked down. Then, frowning, she leant forward, put her hand on my knee, and looked me directly in the eye.

“Do you find me sexy, Michael?” she asked softly.

I drew my breath in sharply, and swallowed again.

Did I think she was sexy? Oh God, yes. Right now, she was the sexiest, most alluring, most desirable creature on the planet!

I managed to nod. “Yes,” I croaked.

I watched as she gently bit her bottom lip. My heart started up again, her simple action sending it into a sudden frenzy.

“You’ve been looking at my legs, haven’t you, you naughty man! And my breasts. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

For a moment, I felt chastened. But Catherine’s smile gave me hope. She cupped her breasts in her own hands.

“Would you like to feel them, Michael? To touch them?” she whispered.

I licked my lips. Christ. What was the etiquette here? The simple answer was yes—I wanted to touch Catherine Robinson’s breasts very much. I was rock hard. Only… I wondered momentarily about Jack. This was his mum.

The decision was taken out of my hands. She leaned forward and kissed me. Her lips were soft. Soft, and sultry, with her breath exuding a faint aroma of shiraz. Then she took my shaking hands in her own and placed them on her chest.

I forgot about Jack.

I could feel the seductive welcome of her flesh through the flimsy dress. I daren’t move my hands! My cock was straining like a dog pulling at its leash. What was Catherine doing to me?

She kissed me again. This time, I felt the tip of her tongue probing gently; I parted my lips, and for the first time felt a woman’s tongue in my mouth. She was hungry—voracious even, exploring, moaning. I could feel her repressed passion, finally and decisively breaking loose.

Taking her in my arms, I met her dancing tongue with my own. I loved the taste of her. Excitement was coursing through me, responding to her desperate, urgent need.

When she broke off, she was breathless, her voice husky.

“Would you make love to me, Michael? I haven’t had a man for so long—and I want to show you what’s it’s like to be with a woman. Would you like that, Michael?”

Overwhelmed, I groaned with anticipation. I’d never felt nervousness, excitement, trepidation, like this in my entire life! I couldn’t believe this was finally going to happen to me. And is such a way I could never have dreamed of!

Catherine rose, deftly unzipped her dress, and let it fall to the floor. Now, she was stood in front of me dressed only in bra, panties, and sandals; a vision of perfection, leaving me speechless. Her covered womanhood was only inches from my nose, and I swear I could detect her feminine aroma! When she sat down again and placed my hands back on her breasts, I thought I might erupt spontaneously.

“Touch them again—I want to feel your hands on me. I want you to play with my tits, Michael.”

Tits! When she said the word, I felt my cock give a little jump.

I knelt between her legs, relishing her proximity. I was close enough to feel her breath on my face now. The feel of her soft, malleable, flesh was incredible; so erotic. I could feel her hard nipples through the fabric, seducing me, making me groan with desire.

Impatiently, she unhooked her bra, and all of a sudden, there they were. I was touching the bare skin of her breasts; delightful, small twin mounds. She had tiny, dark areolas, which emphasized her sizeable nipples, standing erect, demanding attention.

“Stroke them!”

Tentatively, I brushed them with my thumbs and elicited a long moan from Catherine.

I took each nipple gently between thumb and forefinger and, with the gentlest of motions, rolled them. The feeling was indescribable, exquisite…

“Oh, yes…” she murmured. She opened her eyes and looked at me hungrily.

“Kiss them!” she commanded. “I want to feel your mouth and tongue!”

She was taking charge of me, leading the way, helping me please her. I was putty in her hands, happily waiting to be moulded and used for her pleasure.

I bent my head forward and took a nipple between my lips. She arched her back as I teased with my tongue, encouraged by her excited little moans.

When I broke off for a moment, trying to regain my composure, she took my head gently between her hands and looked into my eyes.

“Would you like to kiss between my legs, Michael? I’d like you to very much. Have you ever tasted a woman before?”

“N—no…”

“Do you want to?”

I couldn’t speak anymore, so I just nodded.

“Take off my knickers, Michael.”

She lifted her hips, and I took her panties in my fingers and slid them down her legs, her gorgeous mound, covered in a layer of soft hair, coming into view. My heart started thrumming like the wings of a hummingbird, as her pussy was unveiled.

It was a sight I’d imagined for so long. A woman’s secret, only hinted at under the garments, but the reality was so much better. So much… more! The sensuality of the moment, as I looked for the first time upon a naked woman, her sex unleashing something primal in me.

I wanted her so much!

“Shouldn’t we take off your jeans, Michael?”

A moment of embarrassed hesitation; then a rush as I removed my clothes, an urgency, as Catherine’s hands helped undo my belt, yank down my shorts, revealing my own secret...

“Oh! Oh Michael! That’s—unexpected. And very impressive!” she giggled, as my hard, uncircumcised cock sprang into view.

Naked, she reached out her hand, and touched me softly with her fingers.

And that was all it took.

I couldn’t help it; I just—exploded.

My cock pulsed, and cum shot everywhere, up her arm, on the sofa, over the rug. Her hand was covered.

“I—I’m sorry…!” God, I was so embarrassed. I could see my spunk on her tits, and even on her cheek.

“Oh, my word…” she murmured, taking a tentative lick at her hand. She giggled again. “Don’t be sorry, Michael. It’s very—flattering. But it looks like I may have some work to do before we can continue.”

She looked at the look of horror and humiliation on my face at what had happened, and her expression softened.

“You do want to continue, don’t you? You haven’t tasted me yet, and I want to feel that lovely cock of yours inside me. I want you to fuck me, Michael!”

She leaned forward again and whispered in my ear.

“Why don’t you lie down, and I’ll see what I can do to—revive you?”