My Boyfriend’s mom was better – part 1

I was still paralyzed with shock as I watched her continue to eat the breadstick.

The breadstick that she had inserted in my pussy. I know I’m going on about this, but I couldn’t get over it!

She acted nonchalant and possessively placed her hand back on my leg saying, as she finished the breadstick, “Delicious.”

Knowing her intentions… actually still having no clear idea about her intentions but very nervous about them… I should have moved her hand away… or excused myself… but I didn’t do either of those things.

All I was able to do was just sit there stunned, trying to process the evening and to reinterpret everything that had transpired since she had taken me for the spa day. Has all this just been a master plan to seduce me? Suddenly that seemed to be the only logical conclusion. I was surprised (why me?), angry (how dare she?), flattered (she was interested in me?) and confused (she was my boyfriend’s mother and my English teacher!).

Her hand returned to my pussy, then her finger returned back inside my pussy. It was undeniably wet and excited, and I was powerless to object to the finger’s tantalizing presence.

Then she was fingering me in and out… so slowly.

Although I was still dumbfounded by the fact that I was being sexually molested by my boyfriend’s mother, I was equally amazed by how good it felt.

I tried to act casual.

I tried to finish my dinner.

I tried to breathe normally.

All the while the pleasure inside me was building.

A pleasure unlike any of my self-administered orgasms had brought.

Then, suddenly, my entire lap was soaked.

Not from my orgasm, although that was close to coming (pun intended), but from half a glass of wine being spilt on me.

“Oh, clumsy me,” Lia said dramatically, as her finger withdrew from my fevered pussy.

Oddly, even though I should have been happy, I felt a little disappointed that the pleasure had suddenly stopped.

Lia stood up and ordered, acting all concerned, “Come to the washroom dear, let’s see if we can clean this up. James, please clear the table and do the dishes.”

“Sure,” James nodded, as I felt myself being pulled out of my chair and guided away from my boyfriend and into a bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, she closed and locked the door and in one swift movement pulled the stained dress over my head.

She then ordered, “Hop onto the vanity darling, we only have a few minutes.”

“For what?” I asked, again standing in front of her clad only in my undergarments (well the panties and stockings were hers… only the bra was actually mine).

“I want dessert,” she said bluntly, as she pulled my… her… thong down.

“Ms. Morrison, this is…” I began to protest, but suddenly couldn’t continue as soon as I felt her tongue make contact with my pussy.