My Friend's Mom - Mrs. Singer Pt. 01

She called me "sweetie" again. My heart is racing but I keep it together. "Well, I would say you look...stunning. But maybe too stunning?" I say, in reference to her visible bra. She looks happy, then coyly asks what I meant. "Well, Mrs. Singer, I can see your brassiere. Is that what you want?"

"Is it too much?"

"Well, what do you want to achieve today?" I'm trying to be grown up and helpful.

"I want to close a deal at my gallery."

"So the goal is not to have some man drool over you?"

"They might, and as long as that gets me what I want, I'm OK with that." I'm kinda shocked and tell her so. "Does that make me sound like a manipulative bitch, Nick?"

Yes it did. "Well, I don't know. What do I know?" I reply and look away.

"Not everyone can be so pure of heart and noble as you, Nicholas," she says, sounding slightly irritated. I notice that she switches from calling me Nick to Nicholas when she is trying to be stern or serious. "But you're right. I'll change. I can do this without being a total slut," she says and we both laugh. "But I'm glad you liked it, Nick," she says more quietly and smiles sexily. She looks down and again, seems to notice that I have a lump in my pants.

Horrified, I run off. "Good luck!" I yell on the way out.

_______

For the next weekend, Tommy had invited me to come away with them to the beach and of course I said yes. So there I am, hanging around with Tommy and his parents, and Mrs. Singer is on full parade. Tommy is playing his game boy most of the time, and his Dad is asleep or has his head in the newspaper and it feels, awkwardly, like it's just Mrs. Singer and I. It's weird having Tommy's Dad around, but he's pretty distant.

She spends a lot of the day walking on the sand, swimming, sunbathing and seems to revel in being beautiful. Of course, I can't help but stare the entire time and she can't help but notice that. She stretches herself out, then takes a sidelong glance in my direction and when she sees me looking at her, clearly intoxicated, gives me a little smile.

Later on back at the house, she has dolled herself up for dinner out and pulls me aside. "Nick, listen. Thank you for noticing me today. My husband clearly doesn't care anymore and it's nice to have someone appreciate me." I'm embarrassed, having been caught ogling her but it feels amazing to have this intimate moment with a genuine connection.

"Well, Mrs. Singer, I'm sorry that I was looking, but..." She puts her hand on my chest.

"Nick sweetie, I liked it, OK? You made me feel...like a woman." Jesus. She is a woman. All woman.

"May I say, Mrs. Singer..."

"Nick, please speak freely, tell me."

"You are a very sexy woman. You looked incredible today. And you look incredible now." I'm getting aroused by this close contact.

"Oh, Nick, you are such a darling boy. Ugh, I remember when my husband used to think that and say those things. Oh well, his loss I suppose. At least I have you to check me out," she says, laughing, but I feel kinda awkward. "Are you coming out to dinner with us, Nick? Please. I need the company." Who could say no to that?

After dinner, everyone else has gone to their rooms and Mrs. Singer is playing the piano, as she so often did. She is very good and I walk over to be with her. "Mozart, Mrs. Singer?"

No, Nick. Beethoven. You should know that," she says without looking up.

"You're very good. Maybe you could teach me about classical music," I say, fishing.

"Can you play the piano?" She looks up.

"No, but I'd like to learn. I can play some guitar though. Could you teach me?" Any excuse to spend time with her, but actually, I'm sincere.

"Sure Nick, I would love to give you some tips."

"Tits, Mrs. Singer?" I say cheekily.

"Nicholas! You bad boy! You know full well I said tips! How dare you?!" she says, but as usual can't stop herself from laughing, while pretending to be angry.

"Oh, that's too bad. I love your tits. I mean tips. I'll take what I can get." I don't know what has gotten into me. She makes a mock shocked face and tells me to sit by her, apparently not phased by my forward manner. I sit down and our thighs touch. A little electricity passes between us and my heart starts beating faster. She takes my hands and places them on the keys. My elbow brushes against her breast and we both notice. She smiles. I'm in heaven, to be so close to her physically but also sharing something so nice.

"You're a sweet, sensitive boy, Nick. It's always lovely to have you around the house," she tells me.

I look at her and say, "I like being here." She shows me a few chords and how to play something simple. Just like my attempt to improve my knowledge of art, I decide to endeavor to improve my musical knowledge as well.

It isn't long before I'm over again and see her. She is in the living room wearing a tiny red dress and she looks very sexy. I stand watching her at a small distance for a minute or two, admiring her femininity and the lovely way she is sitting. I cough and she repositions herself to fully display what I believe to be her greatest asset, her behind. I walk in and she pretends to notice me for the first time.

"Dang, Mrs. Singer, you look smoking!" I say, feeling bold.

"Nicholas! You can't talk to me that way! I'm twice your age," she exclaims in mock offense, all the while curving her body to accentuate her charms. Is she showing off for me? I pick up the conversation.

"Well, you do. That's a great dress and you wear it well. You look very hot," I tell her.

"Yes, I do, Nick. You're right. I do look smoking hot and any man should want to have me, don't you think?" Apparently, Mrs. Singer is feeling neglected and desires attention from a very attentive young man, me.

"Want to have you, Mrs. Singer? What do you mean?" I want to see where this is going. She makes a face and is obviously irritated, presumably by her husband and has decided to take out her frustrations by flirting shamelessly. I don't mind being used this way.

"I mean," she says, looking deep in my eyes, "Make love to me, Nick. I mean, I'm hot and any man should want to make love to me, don't you think?" I hadn't expected this bluntness from her. Is it going to happen? Is she going to seduce me right here and now? I instantly get a hard-on and naturally, she notices.

She goes on. "Nick, I'm sorry, this isn't fair for you. You're such a sweet boy. I'm just in a mood." She gets up, walks over to me and puts her arms around my neck. My heart races. Her breath smells of wine. I put my hands on her waist and our bodies collide. She cuddles in close, caressing my hair, while I stroke her neck and back. Her tits are pressed up against me and I'm certain she could feel how hard my cock is.

I move in for a kiss but she puts her fingers up to my lips. "No Nick, no. I'm sorry, baby. I'm not feeling well," she says, pushing me away. "Good night, Nick. I'm sorry," she mutters and walks away. I feel a mixture of euphoria, worry and shame, though the physical sensation of having her body against me was wonderful. I feel sorry for her, as she is clearly in a bad state.

The next morning, I get up late and go downstairs. Tommy is gone for the day, so I'm hoping to stay and hang out with his Mom for a while. I see her in the front room, dressed in work-out clothes, holding a basketball. She sees me and instantly apologizes. "Nick, listen. I'm so sorry about last night. I had too much to drink, I was upset and I...I shouldn't have, y'know."

"Mrs. Singer, it's fine."

"No, it's not fine. Did I hurt your feelings, Nick?" I'm wondering if she wants my feelings to be hurt, to show that I care.

"Actually, yeah, a little bit. But I'm sorry I tried to...er..." I was referring to my attempt at kissing her.

"Maybe we should just forget it, Nick, yeah?"

"Sure, Mrs. Singer. Say, are you gonna shoot some hoops?"

"I just got back actually. I'm not bad!" she says cheerfully.

"I bet I can take that ball off you pretty easy, Mrs. Singer" I'm feeling turned on by her again and she is throwing some body language my way, so I figure I'd try and have some fun with her. She smiles at me cheekily.

"Bet you can't. You can try though," she says, putting the ball above her head, stretching out her body.

"Alright, what do I win if I do?"

"Um...what do you want to win?"

"Mrs. Singer, you shouldn't even have to ask that."

"Nicholas! You're outrageous. What are you implying?"

"Oh, nothing. I'll take a nice long cuddle during a movie, Mrs. Singer."

"You already had that, Nick. You really enjoyed cuddling with me?"

"Yes, I did. I really did," I say with a smile. She smiles back.

"Fine, and if you lose...um...I get a foot massage, OK?"

"From me?"

"Yes, Nick. You give me a foot massage."

"Hmmm...I think I want to lose now."

"Haha, Nicholas! You crack me up, sweetheart!" I flush bright red. She called me sweetheart. My heart skips a beat and I inhale deeply.

"OK, here we go, Mrs. Singer...but I tell you what," I say, as I get into wrestling position "I'll give you a foot massage, win or lose, if that's what you want." She smiles at me in her irresistible way, trying to keep the ball out of my reach. I grab her around the waist and pull her towards me, our bodies pressing together and intertwining. The ball falls on the floor and rolls away.

She dives for it, crawling on all fours. I rush after her, turn her over and end up on top of her, her arms and legs curled around me. We stay like that for some blissful, awkward seconds, our eyes locked, our hearts pumping. She shakes her head at me as if to say "I want you, but I can't have you," and sighs heavily.

"Want me to get off, Mrs. Singer?" I whisper.

"No. Yeah. I don't know. Yeah, You'd better get off," she says with uncertainty.

"Push me off, Mrs. Singer," I reply with a cheeky smile.

She bites her lip and whispers "You're far too big for me to handle, Nick baby." It is by far the most flirtatious thing she has ever said to me and I go hard, my cock pressing against her shorts.

"Maybe we should find out some day," I reply. She does that mock offense thing she always does when our talk gets lewd, then wriggles her body around under me. She makes a little gesture with her head and I slide off her. Then, I grab the ball. "OK, Mrs. Singer. You go and pick out a movie."

"OK, Nick. I'll shower first. And don't forget, you promised me a foot massage."

"Mrs. Singer, would I forget that?" She smiles at me knowingly then skips off. A little later, she comes out in a cute little black dress, nice and tight around the waist. It isn't overtly slutty, but there is some inviting cleavage and it certainly does the trick with turning me on.

"Did you pick out a movie, Mrs. Singer?"

"Yup. It's kind of a chick flick, hope that's OK. Everyone else is out, so I don't have to worry about them only liking action movies," she says with a laugh. She is getting more and more natural with me.

"Oh, fine. I don't care what we watch. I just like being...well...er...here." She smiles sweetly.

After a pause, she says to me, "You know that my name is Laura, right?"

"Yes, Mrs. Singer, I know that."

"Fine, have it your way." She sits down on the couch and starts the movie. She puts her legs across my lap and I instantly get an erection. I feel flustered.

"Want me to make some popcorn, Mrs. Singer?"

"Shut up and rub my feet, Nick honey," she says luxuriously. I'm in heaven. I rub her feet for a while, taking care to play with her toes. She giggles, and then sometimes makes little noises that make it sound as if she is getting aroused. I then move on to her ankles, calves, then thighs. She makes a little groaning noise and spreads her legs as if to say it is OK to continue.

No, I don't start playing with her pussy or her ass, though of course I want to. Does she want me to? I can't tell. I massage her thighs for a good while, however, which is one of the most beautiful physical sensations of my life so far. "I think I got the best end of this bet, Mrs. Singer," I tell her.

"Oh, I don't know, Nick, it feels great. You have lovely hands. You've turned me to jelly. If you want to stop, we can cuddle up." I'm kinda torn. I don't want to stop touching her, but the promise of a cuddle is irresistible. "Lay behind me, honey, and hold me. I'm feeling sensitive and need to be held," she asks. It is obvious that she is lonely, so I happily oblige. I hold her around the waist, with my arms held close to her breasts.

I'm not touching them with my hand, but can feel them against my forearm and I know she can feel me. Naturally, I'm still hard as a rock, which I don't try to hide. I am freely pushing against her lovely ass and I'm pretty sure that she pushes herself out and wriggles against me a few times. I nearly ask her if we could make love, but I'm too scared to. I figure if she really wants to, she would just make it happen. No, despite this being a wonderful and memorable day, it ends with me going home and jerking off to pictures of Mrs. Singer I found on Facebook as usual.

_______

I don't go over to the Singer house for a while. I start having mixed feelings about this situation, wondering whether I am actually falling in love with her. I like flirting and want to be with her, but I don't like having this tense feeling in my stomach all the time. So, while trying to rid myself of unwanted feelings, I start really missing her and of course miss hanging out with my friend Tommy. So, after a few weeks, I decide to pay Mrs. Singer a visit at her work to feel out the situation.

I drop by her downtown art gallery as I am near there at the museum for a school project. I walk in and there she is: radiant, womanly, confident, ravishing, stunning. I'm not sure she even recognizes me at first, so I feel pretty shitty.

"Hey Mrs. Singer, I..."

"Nick! Nick!! How have you been? Oh, I missed you! Where have you been?" she interrupts. She totters over to me and gives me a giant hug. I wasn't expecting this warm reception, but it is wonderful, especially the feeling of her breasts against me again. "I was afraid that maybe you and Tommy had fallen out or maybe I had upset you or something. Or maybe you found a girlfriend?"

"There is someone I like, Mrs. Singer."

"Oh, I see, Nick. Well, good for you. I'm glad. You're a lovely, handsome boy, and you deserve a girlfriend," she says and squeezes my arm tenderly.

"Oh, well, no, it's not like that, I..."

"Nick, won't you come over this weekend and have dinner with us? I'll make your favorite. Hmm?" she suggests.

"Yeah, OK, sure," I say, trying to mask my joy.

"OK, great. I need to get back to work now, alright, but I'll see you Saturday. I...I mean we, we'll be home all afternoon, so come whenever." I agree, then leave, with a leap in my step.

So, I go over Saturday afternoon. I'm pretty excited. Tommy has a new video game and of course there is the amazing, irresistible Mrs. Singer. As soon as I get there, I see her. She's standing on a stool in the living room.

"Mrs. Singer, hi..."

"Oh hey Nick, can you help me? I need to change this lightbulb, but this little step stool is kinda wobbly."

"Sure thing, Mrs. Singer, why don't I just change it for you?"

"No, I've got it. Just hold on to me so I don't fall." I think she wants me to hold on to her.

"It'll be my pleasure, Mrs. Singer."

"Oh, Nick, stop teasing me. You always do that. I'm a married woman, you know!"

"I know that, you're also a beautiful woman."

"Oh come now, Nick. Anyway, go ahead and hold on to me so I don't fall off.."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for me to hold the stool?" I say, teasingly.

"Hmmm, no Nick. Hold me around the waist please." I go up to her and hold her, taking as many liberties as I can to touch her legs, gorgeous ass and slim waist. I don't dare to get a feel of her tits, though I do place my hand at the very top of her pussy area, and I hear her let out a big sigh when I do.

"This is a bit tricky Nick, it's taking a minute," she says and I almost believe her.

"Oh I don't mind, I'm enjoying this."

"Really, Nick? You like touching me? Getting a good feel up?" she says, pretending to be annoyed.

"You know it. Anyway, you didn't seem to mind when I gave you that massage, Mrs. Singer."

"Shhh Nicholas! Someone will hear! That's just between you and I, OK?" She continues figuring out the lightbulb and I make little circles on her tummy with my finger. "Got a nice view there, Nick?" she asks me.

"The best, Mrs. Singer. You know I love checking out your ass." She lets out a healthy laugh. Apparently we'd come to the point where I could say things like that without being told off.

"Alrighty, Nick. All done, thanks. Let me down, baby." She plops down into my arms, and I'm not going to let go too quickly. I want to feel her body against mine and for her to know what a hard dick I have. "Well, Nick, I can tell that you enjoyed that," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "Next time I need help with anything, I'll be sure to let you know."

I let go of her and watch her as she walks away. Just as she's leaving the room, she turns her head to me and smiles. I'm feeling bold so follow her into the kitchen. "Is there anything special you want to eat?" she asks me. I thought I'd be cheeky seeing as she had let me be so flirtatious just now. I stand next to her and look her in the eye.

"I can think of one thing I'd really like to eat, Mrs. Singer," I whisper. She looks at me with a slight frown.

"Whatever do you mean, Nick?"

"I think you know what I mean, Mrs. Singer."

"Nick, if you're saying what I think you're saying, then I swear I'll slap you."

"You promise, Mrs. Singer?"

"Nicholas! I swear, you're so impossible. Ugh. Are you really suggesting..."

"That what I want to eat most of all is your pussy, Mrs. Singer?" I interrupt her. She stands there with her mouth open and her hands on her hips. I'd never actually eaten pussy before, but have watched a few porn films so have some idea about it. I know that I want to.

"Nicholas! Oh. My. God. What on earth would possess you to even think such a thing, let alone actually say it out loud?" She says, and this time seemed genuinely perturbed.

"Where's that slap you promised?" I say and move closer to her. Mrs. Singer can't figure out if she wants to be mad or amused.

"I will slap you, Nicholas," she says in a low voice.

"Go on then, Mrs. Singer. I was pretty rude, wasn't I?"

She just shakes her fist at me and says "urrrgggg!" Then, hiding a smile, continues cooking. I ask her what's for dinner. "There'll be no pussy for you, bad boy. It's pizza, OK?" she says with an unmistakable hint of amusement in her voice. I'd pushed it with her and even though she had pushed back, it was worth it. Our mutual attraction is out in the open more than ever.

_______

Over the weekend, I stop by the local public swimming pool hoping to see Mrs. Singer there and I'm not disappointed. Fortunately, neither her husband nor Tommy are there either, so I'm able to spend some nice quality time with her.

"Hi Nick, how are you?" she says as she sees me approaching. She's lying on a beach bed in a secluded spot.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Singer. What are you doing here?" She ignores my dumb question.

"You know, Nick, I'm still kinda mad at you for being rude the other day."

"Rude, Mrs. Singer?"

"Well, not rude. You were impertinent. You're a very well spoken and polite young man, which is part of the reason why I like you, but you did step over the line with me."

"Oh, you mean, because I say I wanted..."

"Yes, Nick. Let's not talk about it, but you really shouldn't say things like that to me, OK?" she cut me off.

"I promise I won't, I'm sorry. But now you know."

"Know?"

"Yes, Mrs. Singer. Now you know what...er...how I...never mind." She smiles that little smile. Despite what she says, she now knows I want her and she seems to like it.