Read an Excerpt
Lucy was sitting on the edge of the pool yakking with one of her girlfriends, their feet dangling into the water. She was wearing a tiny, green bikini, her perky tits barely covered by the thin material, her nipples clearly indenting the flimsy boob-holders. Her lustrous brown hair cascaded down her sun-kissed shoulders and back, and her entire body glistened with tanning oil.
I sighed, dreaming of what I could do to that luscious body given half a chance, and rubbed my lengthening cock through my jeans. It was going to be one long, hot afternoon of trying to keep my cool. Then my thoughts of sun and sex, and actual stroking, were interrupted by the startling sound of someone clearing their throat. My hand flew off my hard-on and dove into my pocket, and I whipped my head around. ‘Huh?’ I gasped, staring at a woman standing off to my right, in the arched entranceway that connected the kitchen to the dining room. My face went redder than mainland China, and my cock curled up into the foetal position.
‘You must be Lucy’s boyfriend,’ the woman commented, glancing from my crotch to the window, and smiling slightly.
‘Uh, yeah ... that’s right. You’re, um, not Lucy’s mom, are you?’ I spluttered, dreading the answer I knew was coming to that question; you only get one chance to make a first impression on a girl’s parents, and mine had been in my pants.
The woman nodded her head, letting the rest of the air out of my ego and erection. ‘I’m Leslie,’ she said, setting down the paper plates she was carrying on the dining room table and walking over to me, her hand extended.
I took it and shook it, my own mitt as damp and limp as a used condom. ‘Uh, nice to meet you, Mrs Brown ... Leslie,’ I mumbled.
‘Lucy’s told me so much about you,’ she said, cocking her head to one side and studying me from tip to toe. ‘And you’re just as handsome and muscular as she described.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ I gulped, tightening up my chest and arms. ‘Well, I do work out every now and then.’
I eyeballed Lucy’s mom a little more thoroughly, and quickly confirmed the fact that good looks ran in the family, assuming Liz was adopted, of course. Leslie was a mature, fully filled-out version of Lucy, with the same chestnut hair, brown eyes, pretty face and trim body, but with a chest capacity at least twice as great as her daughter’s – her big, heavy-looking tits straining the crimson tank-top she was tightly wearing, her bra-less nipples just about poking holes in the stretched-out fabric. The lady’s curvaceous lower body was spray-painted with faded blue jeans, and her face and arms and shoulders were tanned a deep-dish brown.