Karaoke Room With Friend's Mother

Cody almost turned around in the neon-lit hallway when Gideon’s text came through. Sorry man, stuck at work. Mom’s already there waiting. Just do the karaoke thing without me? He stared at the glowing screen, thumb hovering. Gideon’s mother. Brigitte. Forty-six, with that husky laugh that always made the back of his neck prickle whenever he crashed at their place. He’d jerked off more than once thinking about the way her long legs crossed when she sat on the couch, skirt riding high. Now he was supposed to share a private room with her alone.

He pushed open the door marked 7. The space was smaller than he expected—thick black curtains, a leather booth curved around a low table, one big screen already glowing with song lists. Dim purple lights washed everything soft. Brigitte stood by the mic stand in a tight black dress that hugged every curve of her full tits and the swell of her ass. Her dark hair spilled loose over one shoulder. She turned, lips curving slow.

“Cody. Gideon bailed, huh?” Her voice rolled out low and rough, the kind that scraped pleasantly down his spine. “Come in. Door locks. I already ordered whiskey.”

He stepped inside. The latch clicked behind him. The air smelled like her perfume—something warm and vanilla-spiked—and the faint ozone of the speakers. She handed him a glass, fingers brushing his. “You’re taller than last month. Been hitting the gym hard?” Her eyes dragged openly down his chest, the way his T-shirt stretched across his shoulders and arms. “Christ. Look at you.”

Heat crawled up Cody’s neck. He took a swallow of whiskey to buy a second. “Thanks. You look… yeah. Really good.”

Brigitte laughed, the sound husky. She stepped closer, close enough that the heat of her body reached him. “I’ve been watching you for months, you know. Every time you come over. Those arms. That mouth. I’ve fantasized about what you’d feel like on top of me so many nights I lost count.” She said it flat, no shame, just raw admission while the purple light painted the hollow of her throat. “Gideon has no idea. And right now I don’t give a fuck.”

Cody’s cock twitched hard against his jeans. He set the glass down. “Brigitte—”

“Pick a song,” she cut in, already scrolling the tablet. “Something slow. I want to hear that voice of yours up close.”

They settled on a smoky ballad, the kind with long held notes and lyrics that dripped sex. The instrumental rolled out low. Brigitte took the first mic, Cody the second. She didn’t stay on her side of the tiny platform. As the verse started she moved behind him, chest pressing full and heavy against his back. Her tits mashed soft and warm through the thin dress and his shirt. He felt every breath she took, the way her nipples had already stiffened.

“Keep singing,” she murmured against his ear, lips brushing the shell. Her free hand settled on his hip. She began a slow grind, just a roll of her pelvis against his ass, enough pressure that he felt the heat of her cunt through fabric. Cody’s voice cracked on the next line. He recovered, gripping the mic tighter, but his other hand dropped back and found her hip. Fingers dug into the soft flesh there, yanking her tighter against him.

Brigitte’s next note turned into a throaty hum of approval. She kept grinding, slow circles that dragged the thick length of his cock sideways in his jeans. “Feel that?” she whispered between lyrics, voice dropping so only he could hear over the track. “Been wet since you walked in. My panties are ruined just from having your body this close.”

Cody’s grip flexed harder. He turned his head just enough that their cheeks almost touched. “You’re seriously saying this shit right now?”

“I’m saying I want you to fuck me.” The words left her in a raw, hungry rasp right as the chorus hit. She spun him with surprising strength. The mics clattered forgotten onto the padded bench. Her mouth crashed into his—open, wet, tongue shoving deep like she’d been starving for it. Cody groaned into the kiss, both hands flying to her ass, hauling her flush so those heavy tits crushed against his chest. She tasted like whiskey and want. Her tongue fucked into his mouth the same way he suddenly needed to fuck into her.

They staggered back until his calves hit the booth. Brigitte climbed into his lap without breaking the kiss, knees bracketing his thighs, dress riding up to bare the tops of sheer black stockings. She rolled her hips down hard, grinding the soaked crotch of her panties along the ridged outline of his cock. Cody’s hands shoved under the dress, cupping bare ass cheeks, fingers sliding into the cleft. No underwear after all—just slick, bare pussy lips already swollen and dripping.

“Months,” she panted against his mouth, nipping his lower lip. “Every time you walked past in those gray sweatpants I wanted to drop to my knees and choke on you. Wanted you to bend me over the kitchen counter while Gideon was upstairs.” She reached between them, yanking his fly open with zero finesse. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed dark, the head already shiny. Brigitte wrapped her fist around it and stroked once, slow and tight, thumb smearing precome. “God, even bigger than I pictured. You’re going to stretch me open so fucking good.”

Cody’s head dropped back against the booth cushion. His hands kept roaming—up her sides, under the dress to cup those heavy tits, thumbs scraping over stiff nipples. She arched into the touch, still jacking him with long, twisting pulls. The karaoke track kept playing forgotten in the background, some woman crooning about wanting it deeper, louder. Purple light slicked across Brigitte’s cleavage as she leaned down and licked a stripe up the side of his neck.

“Tell me you want it too,” she demanded, voice pure gravel. “Tell me you’ve thought about burying this cock in your best friend’s mother.”

“Every fucking time I jerked off the last six months,” Cody growled back. He yanked the top of her dress down. Her tits spilled free—full, soft, dark nipples tight. He latched onto one, sucking hard, teeth grazing. Brigitte moaned loud enough to cut through the music, fist tightening on his shaft. She lifted up just enough to rub the leaking head of his cock along her bare slit, coating him in her wetness. Not sinking down yet. Just sliding, teasing, letting him feel how slick and hot she already was.

Cody’s hands locked on her waist. He could feel the tremble in her thighs, the way her cunt fluttered against him every time the head nudged her clit. The room smelled like sex now—her arousal thick in the air, his own skin heating. Somewhere outside people laughed in the hallway, completely oblivious. In here it was just the two of them, the leftover whiskey, and the raw need hammering through both of them.

Brigitte kissed him again, messier this time, teeth and tongue and little bitten-off curses. “Not yet,” she whispered when he tried to pull her down onto him. “I want you so hard it hurts first. I want you aching to shove every inch inside me.” She kept grinding, slow filthy slides that painted his cock shiny from base to tip. Her free hand braced on his shoulder, nails digging crescent moons into the muscle. “You’re going to fuck me right here on this booth. Then maybe against the wall. I don’t care if someone hears. I’ve waited too long.”

Cody’s hips jerked up helplessly, chasing more friction. His fingers found her clit and rubbed tight circles while she worked herself along his length. She was soaked, dripping down onto his balls. Every breath she took pushed those tits against his face. He sucked a fresh mark onto the soft underside of one, then the other, leaving her skin flushed and bitten. Brigitte’s moans turned broken, hips stuttering.

“Cody—fuck—keep touching me just like that.” Her voice had gone pure sex, husky and cracked. She was close already just from the grinding and his fingers. He could feel the pulse of it under his thumb. But she pulled his hand away at the last second, eyes dark and glittering. “Not yet. I want to come the first time with you buried balls-deep.”

She rose up on her knees, lining him up properly this time. The blunt head of his cock kissed her entrance, heat radiating. Cody’s hands flexed on her hips hard enough to bruise. The next act of whatever this was hung right there—one thrust away—but she held still, teasing them both with the promise of it, lips hovering over his, breath mingling.

“You ready to ruin me, baby?” Brigitte whispered, and the private room felt like it might catch fire around them.

Brigitte’s words hung between them like smoke, her cunt hovering just above the swollen head of his cock, the heat of her dripping slit already kissing him. Cody’s fingers dug bruises into her hips, every muscle locked, ready to slam her down. But she suddenly lifted higher, eyes dark with filthy intent, and slid backward off his lap instead.

“Not yet,” she rasped, dropping to her knees on the carpet between his spread thighs. “I’ve fantasized about choking on this cock too many nights. I want it wrecking my throat first.”

She shoved his jeans farther down, freeing his balls, then wrapped both hands around the thick base. Cody stared down as Brigitte leaned in, dark hair spilling across his thighs, and dragged her tongue from root to tip in one long, wet stripe. She locked eyes with him—hungry, shameless—and opened wide, swallowing the flushed head in one greedy suck. Her lips stretched tight around the girth. Spit immediately slicked down the shaft as she took him deeper, throat working, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck—Brigitte—” Cody groaned, hips twitching. He fisted her hair, not forcing, just holding on while she fed more of him into her mouth. She pushed forward until her nose pressed against his pubic bone, throat convulsing around every inch in a sloppy, choking deepthroat. Wet, filthy sounds filled the small room—gags, slurps, the wet pop when she pulled back for air only to dive right back down. Strings of spit connected her swollen lips to his cock. She never looked away, eyes watering, mascara starting to smear, staring up like she was worshipping him while she ruined her own throat for his pleasure.

Cody’s free hand cupped the side of her face, thumb smearing the spit across her cheek. “Jesus, your mouth—so fucking greedy.” She moaned around him in answer, the vibration shooting straight to his balls. She bobbed faster, one hand pumping what she couldn’t swallow, the other rolling his balls. Precome and spit frothed at the corners of her mouth. When she finally pulled off with a gasp, a thick strand of saliva stretched from her tongue to the shiny head. She licked it up, panting.

“Taste so good,” she husked. “Now fuck me like you’ve wanted to for months.”

Brigitte stood, spun around, and bent over the curved leather karaoke couch. She hiked the tight black dress all the way up over her hips, baring the full, pale globes of her ass and the glistening pink of her cunt. No panties, just sheer stockings framing everything. She looked back over her shoulder, hair messy, lips shiny. “Pound me. Hard. Don’t you dare be gentle.”

Cody rose behind her, cock heavy and dripping. He grabbed her hips, lined up, and drove forward in one brutal thrust. Her soaked walls split open around him, gripping tight as he buried himself to the hilt. Brigitte cried out—raw, loud—hands scrambling for purchase on the couch cushions. He didn’t give her time to adjust. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing under the leftover karaoke track. His hands spread her cheeks so he could watch every thick inch disappearing into her.

“Harder,” she demanded, voice cracking. “Fuck your best friend’s mother harder, Cody. Ruin this cunt.”

He delivered, hips snapping in rough, deep strokes that rocked her whole body forward. Each thrust punched a broken moan out of her. He brought one open palm down hard across her right ass cheek—the sharp crack loud in the small room. The flesh jiggled, pink blooming instantly. Brigitte shoved back to meet him, grinding. “Yes—spank me. Pull my hair. Own it.”

Cody gathered a thick handful of her dark hair and yanked her head back, forcing her spine into a deep arch. He spanked the other cheek twice, harder, then fucked into her even rougher, balls slapping against her clit with every stroke. Her big tits swung heavily beneath her, nipples dragging against the leather. The purple lights painted the sweat already slicking the small of her back. Cody could feel her fluttering around him, getting wetter, cream starting to froth at the base of his cock every time he bottomed out.

“Been dreaming about this tight pussy taking me,” he growled, voice raw. “Every time you bent over at the house I wanted to shove your skirt up and do exactly this.” He released her hair just long enough to reach under and pinch one swinging nipple, twisting. Brigitte screamed into the cushions, pushing back harder.

“Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—I’m close already—”

He kept the brutal pace, spanking her ass red, hair wrapped tight in his fist again, using the leverage to yank her onto every thrust. The couch creaked under them. Outside, distant laughter floated past the locked door, but neither of them cared. Her walls clamped down rhythmically. Cody felt the first flutters of her orgasm building and slowed just enough to drag it out, grinding deep circles that mashed against her g-spot.

“Not yet,” he echoed her earlier words. “Get up here and ride me. I want to watch those tits bounce while you cream all over me.”

Brigitte scrambled up on shaky legs. Cody dropped onto the booth, cock standing straight up, shiny with her juices. She turned her back to him, straddling his lap in reverse cowgirl, feet planted on the cushions. She reached between her thighs, guided him to her entrance, and sank down in one long, slow drop until he was buried again. Both of them groaned at the angle—deeper this way, the head pressing hard against her front wall.

She started to ride. At first slow rolls of her hips, grinding her clit against the base of him, then faster bounces that made her full tits slap and jiggle wildly with every movement. Cody’s hands clamped on her waist, helping lift and drop her, watching the way her ass cheeks spread around his cock on every downstroke. Cream coated him thicker now, white streaks painting his shaft and dripping onto his balls. The wet sounds were obscene—squelching, slapping, her broken whimpers mixing with his low grunts.

“Look at you,” he rasped, reaching around to cup both heavy tits, squeezing and pinching the nipples while she fucked herself on him. “Taking every inch like you were made for it. Bounce harder. I want to feel you gush.”

Brigitte leaned forward, hands on his knees, and really started to work—rising almost all the way off then slamming back down, grinding in filthy circles at the bottom. Her dark hair stuck to the sweat on her neck and shoulders. She looked back over her shoulder, eyes half-lidded, mouth open. “Your cock’s stretching me so fucking good—I’ve needed this. Needed a young hard dick wrecking me. Keep squeezing my tits—yes—”

Cody thrust up to meet her every drop, the reverse angle letting him drive even deeper. He could feel her starting to seize up, the rhythmic clench of her cunt growing stronger. His own orgasm coiled tight at the base of his spine. He slapped one bouncing ass cheek, then the other, leaving fresh red marks, and pulled her down hard so he stayed buried while she ground and rubbed.

“Come on my cock,” he ordered, voice gravel. “Soak me. I want to feel you lose it.”

Brigitte’s rhythm stuttered. She reached down and rubbed her clit fast while she kept riding, tits bouncing out of control. “I’m—fuck—Cody I’m coming—” Her whole body locked. A gush of wetness flooded around his cock as she came hard, walls milking him in powerful pulses, cream squirting out around the seal of their bodies and soaking his thighs. She cried out loud enough that anyone in the hallway might have heard, still grinding through the waves, shaking.

The sight and the tight, fluttering heat dragged Cody over with her. He slammed up hard, burying deep, and came in thick, hot spurts that flooded her. Pulse after pulse, he filled her while her cunt kept squeezing every drop out of him. They rode it out together—messy, intense, bodies locked and twitching—until the last shudders faded.

Brigitte collapsed back against his chest, still impaled, both of them slick with sweat and come. The karaoke track had long since ended; only the low hum of the speakers and their ragged breathing filled the room. Cody’s hands stroked slowly over her tits, then down to where they were still joined, feeling the wet mess leaking out around his softening cock. She turned her head and kissed him lazy and filthy, tongue sliding against his.

“We’re not done,” she whispered against his mouth, hips giving one slow, deliberate roll that made fresh come ooze out of her. “That door stays locked. I’ve got more holes for you to ruin before Gideon ever texts back.” Her fingers traced the mark she’d left on his neck earlier. “And next time I want it against the wall so hard the whole building hears.”

Brigitte’s words hung in the thick air of the locked room, her hips giving that slow, deliberate roll that made fresh come ooze out around Cody’s still-buried cock. He was softening inside her, but the filthy promise in her voice—more holes, the wall, the whole building hearing—sent a fresh jolt straight to his balls. His hands stayed locked on her full tits, thumbs dragging over the stiff peaks while she ground back against him in lazy, wet circles.

“Fuck,” he rasped against the sweat-slick side of her neck. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.” She pushed up off his chest just enough to look back at him, eyes dark and gleaming under the purple lights. Come dripped down his shaft as she lifted, then sank again with a filthy squelch. “That first load is just the warm-up. Feel how full I already am? You’re going to top it off until it’s running down my thighs.”

Cody’s cock twitched hard inside her, swelling back to full thickness with every pulse of her cunt. He grabbed her waist and stood in one powerful motion, still buried deep, carrying her the two steps to the wall beside the glowing karaoke screen. Brigitte’s back hit the thick black curtain with a soft thud. Her legs locked around his hips instantly, stockings rasping against his jeans that still hung half-off his ass. He pinned her there, cock grinding up into that soaked, creamy heat, and kissed her hard—tongue fucking into her mouth the same way his cock started fucking her cunt again.

Slow at first. Deep. Every stroke dragged through the mess of their first round, wetter and louder than before. Come frothed at the base of him, dripping onto the carpet in thick white strings. Brigitte moaned into his mouth, nails raking down his back under the T-shirt he’d never fully shed. “Yes—like that. Use me against the fucking wall. I want bruises tomorrow when Gideon asks why I’m walking funny.”

Cody growled and gave her exactly that. He planted his feet wider, hands sliding under her ass to spread her open, and slammed upward. The wet slap of skin on skin cracked through the small room. Her heavy tits bounced hard between them with every thrust, nipples dragging across his chest. He ducked his head and sucked one into his mouth, teeth grazing, while his hips kept pounding—brutal, relentless strokes that shoved her higher up the wall each time. Brigitte’s head fell back against the curtain, mouth open, raw cries spilling out with every bottoming-out thrust.

“Harder—Cody, fuck, wreck me—”

He did. He yanked one of her legs higher, hooking it over his elbow so he could drive even deeper, the head of his cock battering her front wall. Cream and leftover cum sprayed around the thick seal of his shaft. The leftover karaoke track had long died; now it was just the wet, filthy sounds of him owning her cunt and the distant muffled thump of music from other rooms. Someone laughed right outside the door. Neither of them slowed.

Brigitte’s walls started fluttering again almost immediately. She was still sensitive from the first orgasm, every nerve raw. Cody felt it—the rhythmic clench, the way her thighs shook against his sides. He kept the pace punishing, one hand leaving her ass to slap the side of her breast, then pinch the nipple hard enough to make her yelp. “You’re going to come again on this cock while I hold you up,” he ordered, voice raw gravel. “Then I’m going to fill you so fucking full you’ll feel it dripping for days.”

“Do it—please—I’m already—” Her words broke into a shattered moan as he ground deep and stayed there, rolling his hips in tight circles that mashed her clit against his pubic bone. She came hard, whole body locking, cunt spasming in powerful waves that milked him viciously. A fresh gush of wetness flooded around his cock, soaking the front of his jeans and running down both their thighs. She shook through it, aftershocks rippling, nails digging crescent moons into his shoulders.

Cody didn’t stop. He fucked her straight through the climax, each thrust dragging fresh pulses out of her until she was whimpering and clinging, oversensitive and greedy for more. His own orgasm built like a fist at the base of his spine—hot, inevitable. He could feel every inch of her stretched around him, the slippery heat of their combined mess, the way her aftershocks kept squeezing.

He carried her the few steps back to the curved leather booth without pulling out. Dropped onto it with her still straddling him, reverse this time so her back pressed to his chest. Both of them facing the glowing screen. He hooked his arms under her knees, spreading her wide open, and started thrusting up hard from below. The angle let him watch everything—his thick cock disappearing into her pink, stretched cunt, the white cream coating him thicker with every stroke, her full tits bouncing wildly, dark nipples tight.

Brigitte reached down with both hands, spreading her own pussy lips so he could see better, fingers framing where he stretched her. “Look at that—your cock destroying me. Fuck, I’m still coming—little ones every time you bottom out—”

He could feel them. Tiny flutters, aftershocks rolling through her as he pounded upward. His balls slapped wetly against her ass. Sweat slicked both of them. The smell of sex was overwhelming—vanilla perfume drowned under the thick scent of cunt and cum. Cody’s hands left her legs to maul her tits again, squeezing hard, rolling the nipples between rough fingers while he fucked her like he was trying to leave a permanent imprint inside.

“I’m close,” he warned, hips snapping faster. “Gonna pump you full again. Keep those aftershocks coming—milk every drop out of me.”

Brigitte turned her head, catching his mouth in a messy, open kiss. “Do it. Breed your best friend’s mother right here. Fill me until it leaks out around you. I want to feel it for the rest of the night.”

That did it. Cody buried himself to the hilt one final time and stayed there, cock pulsing hard as he came. Thick, hot ropes flooded her already-full cunt, spurt after heavy spurt painting her walls. He groaned into her mouth, hips jerking with each pulse, forcing more of his load deeper. Brigitte shuddered through another wave of aftershocks at the heat of it—her cunt clamping rhythmically, milking him, pulling every drop he had left. Come leaked out immediately around the base of his cock, white and thick, running down over his balls and soaking the leather beneath them.

They stayed locked like that—him still buried deep, cock twitching with the last fading spurts, her walls fluttering in lazy aftershocks around him. Breathing ragged. Hearts slamming. The purple lights painted the mess of their joined bodies, the sweat on her throat, the come streaking her inner thighs.

Brigitte turned in his lap carefully, careful not to let him slip free, until she was facing him properly. Her legs straddled his hips, his softening cock still plugged deep inside the flooded heat of her. She cupped his face with both hands, eyes half-lidded and possessive, and kissed him slow and filthy—tongue sliding deep, tasting the whiskey and the sex on him. When she pulled back it was only far enough to speak against his lips, voice a husky, satisfied purr that scraped straight down his spine.

“This is just the beginning of our secret affair, baby.” She rolled her hips once, deliberate, making fresh come ooze out around him. “Gideon will never know. Next private karaoke night is already mine. Same room. Same lock. And next time I’m sucking you hard again the second that door clicks shut, then I’m bending over that table and making you fuck me until I can’t walk straight. You’re mine now. That cock is mine. And I’m going to use it every chance I get.”

Cody’s hands slid down to her ass, holding her tight against him, still buried, still leaking into her. He kissed her back just as possessively, already half-hard again from the filthy promise alone. The room hummed around them—speakers, distant laughter, the wet heat of their secret. They weren’t done. Not even close.