My Girlfriend's Neglected Mother: Part 2 I was asked to Fill In For Her Husband? Based on a post by MaryAnderson. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. A few days later I was at the Hollins' house when Jennie's phone pinged. She opened the message, read it, read it again, pumped her fist and said, "Yes! Whitman scheduled me for an interview, but crap, it's next Friday. Mom, that's your birthday." Whitman was Jennie's dream college, the one she had no chance of getting into. Still, the assistant director of admissions had been a fraternity brother of Mr. Hollins, not one Mr. Hollins had been close to, but perhaps, maybe. Mr. Hollins was to go with Jennie to the interview, see if he could influence the decision. Mrs. Hollins said, "Honey, when you're in you late thirties your birthday is not that big a deal. And, in any case, we weren't planning to do anything as a family until Saturday." Jennie said, "But still Mom, it's your birthday. Dad and I can't leave." Mrs. Hollins said, "Of course you can, I'll find something to do." Jennie looked at me with expectant eyes and I said, "Look, Mrs Hollins; with your daughter out of town I'll be foot loose and fancy free. Let me take you out. We'll do something different, something you wouldn't normally do." Jennie said, "That's a great idea Mom, and I know just the place. There's a club not too far from campus. It has a mixed crowd, not just students." Mrs. Hollins said, "I don't know, you sure you want to go out with an old lady Michael?" "What old lady, you bringing a friend? With Jennie out of town you'll be the finest woman around." Mrs. Hollins said, "What, I'm not as hot as my daughter?" Jennie said, "Mom, you and I will pick out something for you to wear, show my boyfriend exactly how hot you can be." We ran it, well at least the general concept, by Mr Hollins; he said it was an excellent idea. Date With Her Mom. "Happy birthday Mrs. Hollins." I handed her a half-dozen roses. While a cliche, it was always appreciated. Eyes spread wide, she kissed my cheek and said, "They're beautiful. Please come in." And while her eyes had spread wide, they were no match for mine. Mrs. Hollins' red dress snugly fit her slender form; her modest t**s were held perfect in the built-in cups. The back was open; there were no straps, just a tie around the neck. And, as I followed her into the house, I focused on her ass; it formed an impeccable bump in the back of the dress. And the shoes: red stiletto heels that buckled around the ankles. The dress screamed f**k me, the shoes hollered the same thing, and later her moves on the dance floor would be exclamation points. If it was going to happen, it would happen tonight. I was going to make my, and Jennie's fantasy come true: I'd fuck her mother. In the living room she handed me a glass of wine, put the flowers in a vase, studied them, moved one flower half-an-inch, another a quarter-of-an-inch, leaned forward, took a long whiff, chin in hand studied them, moved two more flowers, and said, "They're lovely, and you're sweet and thoughtful." She kissed my cheek. Her perfume was light and airy. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and said, "I can see why my daughter's so enamored with you." "A beautiful woman deserves beautiful flowers, and you look spectacular. Jennie asked for pictures." I took several of her, then several of us together, my arm around her shoulder, her arm around my waist. Jennie texted, said we were a good looking couple, instructed me to show her Mom the time of her life. I held the door of my newly cleaned jalopy for her, then her chair at the hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant where we'd never run into any of her crowd. She asked my advice, ordered it, complimented my choice. We shared dessert, then went to the club. We danced fast, danced slow, and later, as I drove her home, she leaned her body into mine. I handed her a glass of wine as she moved a couple of the flowers, moved them back, moved one other, and said, "That's better, it's been bothering me all night. What do you think?" I said, "I think you've got it," held my glass up. "To you, on your birthday." Touching her glass to mine she said, "To a wonderful evening, I can't remember a better time. Why don't you put on some music, come sit with me. I need to get off my feet, it's been years since I danced in stilettos." "Well, every guy there would vote in favor of you doing it again." "Michael, are you flirting with me?" "Just getting started." Mrs. Hollins sat, then took off her ruby heart-shaped earrings/ She lay them on the table next to the couch. I put on some soft jazz, said, "Foot rub?" she said, "I'd like that," and I sat on the far end of the couch as she pirouetted until her back rested on the arm and her feet were in my lap. I unbuckled her shoes, laid them on the floor, worked her feet; we chatted, she drank her wine. When her phone pinged she signaled me to keep working, picked it off the coffee table, held it up. It was Jennie on FaceTime. She then turned it back towards her and said, "Hey babe, how'd the interview go?" "Not good. The guy from Dad's frat was away on a family emergency. I ended up with a guy who had no idea who I was, who hadn't reviewed my file. It was a milk run, not an interview. But enough of me. Happy birthday, did you have fun?" "I'm sorry to hear that honey. And yes, your boyfriend showed me a wonderful time. I haven't danced like that in years. He's rubbing my feet right now." "He gives good foot rub Mom. I want to talk to both of you." Moving her feet off my lap, Mrs. Collins slid down the couch and leaned her body on mine. My girlfriend was sitting-up in bed, her back resting on the headboard, a blanket pulled across her chest. Her shoulders were bare. Was she wearing any clothes? "You taking good care of Mom, sweetie?" "Trying." "Good, give Mom a birthday kiss from me." Mrs. Collins turned her head, I brushed my lips on hers. Jennie said, "Come on, you can do better than that." Mrs. Collins, holding the phone in one hand, turned her shoulders, wrapped slender strong fingers on the back of my neck, pulled me towards her, ran a hand down my side, kissed me. Her lips moved on mine, mine on hers; I was as hard as a rock. Jennie said, "That's much better. Now you two don't stay up too late, and sleep soundly. Love you both." Mrs. Hollins clicked off the phone, slid it onto the coffee table, rotated towards me, said, "My daughter's text said she left me a pretty present. Do you know what she was talking about? " "Not sure, but I'd hate for you to be disappointed. Are there any boxes lying around?" She said, "No," and started unbuttoning my shirt. Then added, "Could she have meant you?" "Maybe, should we call and ask?" "No, she was already in bed, we wouldn't want to wake her. We'll assume I'm right and check with her in the morning." She undid several more buttons, opened my shirt, ran her hand on my chest, said, "Nice," then finished unbuttoning and slid off my shirt. Next she pulled my undershirt over my head, ran her hands on my chest, teased my nipples with her perfect nails, said, Good body, do you know how to use it?" "Jennie doesn't complain and she's not one to hide her opinion. In fact, she's quite uninhibited, there's this game we play where she pretends to be you." "Yes, I saw on the boat. Do you like this game, Michael?" “On the boat?” Mrs. Hollins was now running her nails in circles around my nipples, it was hard to concentrate. “Oh yeah, the boat.” "Very much." I said. She kissed the top of my chest; I slipped a hand inside her dress, stroked a small firm breast with the side of my thumb. "So, should I pretend to be my daughter?" I rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger. "No, Mrs. Hollins. I've wanted you since I first saw you. But I'm sure every boyfriend of Jennie's must have. Why me?" I let go of her nipple, slid my hand up her leg, dragged a fingertip along her p***y slit, worked it around her panties, then sank it inside her. Her tone was seductive as she said, "Maybe because of the happy bounce in my daughter's step when she's been with you. Maybe because you're the only one who admitted it. Maybe because I know you love my daughter and will keep this to the three of us. Maybe because you turn me on." Her hand on my chest moved lower, tracing the muscles of my stomach, and she brought her lips to mine. Her kiss was powerful, and intense. I pushed a second, then a third finger inside her, twisted them, moved them in and out, listened to her soft moan. "I love the way you touch me." Rocking my fingers inside her I worked her clit with my thumb, a teasing circular motion. Her hips moving with me I tugged the tie around her neck and the dress fell from her chest; Mrs. Hollins gasped when chilled air met flushed breasts. I considered taking Mrs. Hollins into my arms and heading for the bedroom, but I wanted it to be a long-term thing, best to give her the full treatment. I covered her right breast, caressed the firm flesh; her nipple throbbed, stiffened. Then, her head on my shoulder, she said, "It's time to unwrap my present," undid my belt and button, unzipped me, pushed a hand inside. "Very nice, thick and fat." Holding her to me I moved my fingers in her cunt, a little faster, a little harder, and rocked my thumb on her c**t. The intensity of her moans increased and she was soon jabbing her hips into my hand. I'm going to fuck you, Mrs. Hollins." "Hmm." "Like I fuck your daughter." "Um Hmm." "Fuck you until you can't see straight." "Hmm." "Like I fuck your daughter." "Ah Hmm." "I'll dick you to your heart's delight." "M." "And no one will know, they'll just think I'm balling your daughter, but I'll be balling you." "Um Hmm." "That's what you want isn't it?" "Mmmmnnnnnmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, mmmmmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." "Isn't it." "M Hmm" "Say it." "I, I,
