“Mommy, you’re the best fuck ever! You feel like you’re going to melt my cock!” She raised her legs way up in the air so I could get deeper inside her. I was kissing her cheek and neck, then her lips, and she returned my kisses with great heat.
“Use that dick on me, baby! Fuck your Mommy as hard as you can! I love feeling your big balls slapping on my ass! Keep fucking me!” Her pussy was spasming all around my cock, gripping and releasing me. She had excellent muscle control and it felt incredible.
My hands grabbed her ass on both sides, digging my fingers into her soft flesh, then I rolled over, pulling her with me, so she was on top riding me. She shoved her tongue in my mouth, her hair tickling my face, as her ass rose and fell rapidly.
“Spank me, baby! I’m a bad Mommy, and I need to be punished!” I knew this was coming and I slapped her ass firmly, but not enough to do more than sting. “YES! AGAIN!” I added more smacks to her full cheeks and Habiba screamed as she came again, soaking my crotch with her cream. She really was a wild fuck, and she kept going until she came one more time with her breasts in my mouth.
She almost reluctantly climbed off me. She was pretty well spent by then, and I really did need to cum myself. “That was fantastic, baby. Such a good, good son to Mommy. Now, how can I get you off? You can cum on me, maybe on my breasts? Or would you like me to swallow your hot cream? Or…you could fuck Mommy’s big breasts! Would you like that, baby?”
“I would love that, Mommy! Make me cum between your big, soft breasts!’ It was obvious this was her preference, and it was fine with me. I just needed to get off already.
My dick was very wet from her pussy, but she still sucked it for a couple of minutes before wrapping her wonderful melons around me, moving up and down, and when I reached the top, she licked around the crown of my dick. Up and down, she pushed her breasts together, then eased off a little, then squeezed me again. She was amazing, an incredible lover, and I was just about there…..
“You want to cum for Mommy, baby? Cum between her big breasts? I know your balls must be full and aching, ready to give me my treat? Give it to me, baby. Give your cum to Mommy!”
It wasn’t my particular fantasy, but the way we played it got me incredibly hot, and her wicked talk pushed me over the edge. “I’m cumming, Mommy! DON’T STOP!” My body released and I came heavily, sending thick ropes of my seed all over her chest, between her breasts, and up her neck to her chin, making her a real mess.
It was great, fun for me, though not like it had been for her. She scooped up a few fingerfuls of my cum and licked them up, smiling at the taste and the kinkiness. She then kind of collapsed into the crook of my arm and we held each other close. It was fine with me; I loved cuddling after sex in my own life.
She tickled me up and down my tummy along the hairline there as I caressed her neck and back. “Kayode, that was just amazing. It was everything I wanted and hoped it would be. You really made my dream come true. You’re an excellent lover and a sweet young man.” She kissed my cheek and then a soft one on my lips.
“Believe me, Habiba, this was my pleasure. Not quite like it was yours. I hope. This was all about fulfilling your needs, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed making it happen for you and I enjoyed the way you have sex. You’re a great lover.”
“I used to be. My husband barely touches me at all. Even if he did, I can’t imagine being able to ask him to do what we just did. He would call me sick or a pervert.” A couple of tears dripped down her cheeks. “I even feel like a pervert, wanting to sleep with my son.”
I adjusted my hold on her, pulling a little closer. “Habiba, look at me. right in my eyes.” We locked eyes and I saw her regret. “I told you earlier, almost everyone has sexual desires and fantasies. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it. I helped you act it out today in an appropriate way. If you tried to seduce your son, that would have been morally questionable. I personally believe what happens between consenting adults is no one else’s business.
This way, you got to experience what your psyche needed without risking hurting your relationship with Musa or your husband. Now, why HE doesn’t touch you is a mystery to me. He’s missing out on one of the great experiences in life. It’s shame, really. I think you’re a wonderful woman. Beautiful and bright and very, very sexy.”
Habiba wiped her tears away and smiled at me, kind of shyly, girlish. “You’re a very sweet young man, you know? If I was 20 years younger….”
“You’re really a great lady” I said with one more kiss and a smile. “Do you mind if I take a shower? I kind of smell of sweat and… other things.”
“Sure, use the shower in this bathroom. I’ll get you a towel. Just wipe down the glass and the tiles when you’re done. I don’t want to leave any sign my husband could spot.”
“No problem. I’m a neat guy.”
25 minutes later I was almost dressed, and I helped Habiba change the sheets in her son’s room. I put on my sports jacket, fixed my tie, and she led me to the door. She gave me a kiss and an envelope with a very generous tip. “I would like to call for you again from time to time. Maybe to play this out again, or maybe just for an afternoon of great sex.”
“That would be fine with me, Habiba. You know how to reach me. I’m sure I’ll enjoy any experience with you.” I kissed her goodbye before the door opened to the street. And two minutes later I was on my way to find a taxi. I still see her from time to time. Usually just for sex that is great for us both. And, once in a while, I still play her panty loving son.
*****
I really don’t mind fulfilling almost any fantasy a woman has. It doesn’t have to be my cup of tea; I’m the ’employee’, so to speak, and it’s my job to help the women I am assigned to. I have my regulars, some who request me as often as every few weeks. Ugo Chiwendu, the first woman I told you about, always asks for me when she has some event or other that she needs an escort for.
It’s all very discreet in that world, no one makes any snide comments. I never walk with her through the photographer’s line. I walk in discreetly on my own and meet her inside. There are a couple of other women I meet like that. I enjoy that part of the job quite a lot. I get paid quite well for going to some great cultural events and parties with great food and wine.
There is one kind of fantasy, however, that I really don’t enjoy taking part in. It’s a more complicated situation, involving cuckolding. For those unfamiliar with the term, a cuckold is a man whose wife is fucking around on him. In this case, though, it is with not only his knowledge, but he is a part of the game.
He watches, often jerking off, while I have sex with his wife, and often she will humiliate him by telling him how inadequate he is, how I fuck her like a real man, he’s got a pathetic penis etc. I’ve done it a few times (it pays very well), but it’s one of the few games I take part in that makes me feel like I need a shower after, not in the way I almost always need just to clean up.
Like an emotional shower. As I said, I take part, but I don’t really understand what appeals to both of them about it. Maybe if I get my master’s degree.
Anyway, most of the women I see or escort become regulars. A few have been one-time things, but most hire me multiple times. Chiwendu, as I told you, hires me frequently, often once a week. Sometimes it’s about an event and then sex, and sometimes it’s just sex. I usually take off a week to myself every couple of months, because I need it.
I need to get together with friends I’ve missed (they wonder what I’ve been up to and how I’m suddenly flush with money, but I don’t tell anyone about my life), I go see my parents, and I just veg out for a few days of peace and quiet.
Chiwendu understands that those weeks I’m not available. But sometimes she’ll ask me to go away with her for a week or so, usually to a tropical setting at a very exclusive, discreet resort. She pays for everything, including my fee, which Dami sets and she gets her 30%.
We have a great time together. We’ll relax and drink a little more than usual, eat well, dance (she loves to dance to all kinds of music), and of course, we have sex. A lot. At least three times a day. I often need a vacation from my vacation when I get home.
Chiwendu and I have gotten very close as friends. We’re under no illusion about falling in love. But when you spend that kind of time with someone, a certain amount of intimacy is inevitable. It had been the better part of three years since we met, I know about her family, her son and her daughter as well as her ex. I tell her certain things about my private life that I never share with any others.
So, like I said, we we’re like close friends. And after the first few months, she almost always wanted me to spend the night. It was nice, comfortable, and we got along very well. But one night, about two months ago, Chiwendu threw me for a loop. She asked me for a very unusual favor.
We were cuddling in bed after sex, about 3 AM. “Kayode, would you say we have something more than a professional relationship, correct?”
“After three years? Yes, I would say our relationship is closer than that. We’ve travelled together, shared some great times, and we’ve talked about all sorts of personal things together. Why did you ask?”
She sat up a little more and the blanket fell away from her breasts, a nice, temporary distraction. “Up here, friend” she said with a pleasant laugh. “I’ve been working on improving my relationship with my daughter, Ginika. She’s 27 now, and I’m just kind of aware of the time going by. I want to be closer to her, and we’ve been getting together every couple of weeks, usually on Sundays for dinner.
We’ve confided in each other about some things I never would have thought I could talk to her about. I told her about you, and she surprisingly took it very well. She understands I’m far from an old lady and I still have needs and desires, even to just have a man’s company. She even understands that I don’t want the complications and risks of traditional dating. Too many of the men around my age are looking for my money.
I told her our relationship was less dangerous for me, and you never asked me for anything outside of our transactions.”
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