Best Friend's Mother: My First Forbidden Taste

Jake had spent three years pretending the heat in his chest whenever Vanessa walked into a room was just leftover teenage awkwardness. At nineteen he still blushed when she ruffled his hair, still stared a second too long at the way her silk blouses clung to the heavy curves of her breasts. Tyler’s mom. Forty-two, divorced, legs for days, and the reason Jake’s right hand had a permanent callus. This weekend Tyler was gone on a ski trip and Vanessa was supposed to be in Miami until Monday. The house was his. Her bedroom door had been left unlocked. He’d told himself he would only look.

Her lingerie drawer smelled like vanilla and something darker. He pulled out a black lace teddy, pressed the soft cups to his face, and his cock was already stiff and leaking before he even sat on the edge of her king-sized bed. He shoved his jeans down, wrapped the lace around his shaft, and stroked hard, eyes squeezed shut, picturing her kneeling, those full lips parting—

“Well.”

The single word froze him. Vanessa stood in the doorway in a travel-wrinkled cream blouse and pencil skirt, suitcase still in her hand, dark hair slightly mussed. Her eyes dropped straight to the lace clenched in his fist and the glistening head of his cock. Jake’s entire body went scarlet. He scrambled backward, trying to cover himself.

“Mrs. Hale—Vanessa—I—fuck, I’m so sorry—”

She set the suitcase down with deliberate calm, closed the door, and locked it. When she turned back her mouth was curved in something that wasn’t anger.

“I’ve imagined catching you exactly like this,” she said quietly. “For longer than I should admit.” She stepped closer, heels soft on the carpet. “You’ve been staring at me since you were seventeen. Did you think I didn’t notice? Did you think I didn’t lie awake wondering what it would feel like to be the first woman who ever touched that pretty cock?”