Susan Smith buttoned the gold, satin blouse and tucked it into her black slacks and zipped them up. Smoothing out her buttocks, she turned to study them. At forty five she was still looking good. Dark brown hair hung past her shoulders accentuating a brown, flawless complexion. Large brown mischievous eyes always seemed to regard the outside world with a mixture of mild contempt and curiosity. She smoothed the blouse over her plump breasts and eased it down to her hips, she had a good body but it was wasted on her aging husband, who seemed to spend all his time absorbed in yet another corporate takeover. What little time they had for each other was spent either in separate rooms or different houses. Today he was in Los Angeles for a business conference and wasn’t due to return for three days, leaving her here. She could have gone with him or stayed in any one of three homes here in Massachusetts or traveled further afield to Daytona Beach, Denver, LA or Dallas. But her daughter had arranged a birthday dinner to celebrate her forty fifth birthday and Susan had agreed, at least someone had remembered her birthday; John was probably screwing some whore in LA. His Filofax and email contacts were always heavily guarded. The higher up the ranks he rose, and the more companies he bought and sold, the more aloof and reclusive he became.

Susan sprayed herself with perfume and picking up her wine, wandered downstairs. Stan, her daughter’s nineteen year old boyfriend had stayed over, and her face wrinkled in annoyance as she heard the annoying tune coming from the Gameboy. Stan was a good boy from a poor family but he had piqued her interest, he seemed to treat Roxanne with respect and sensitivity, unlike that spoiled little shit from next door who only wanted to show off his latest toy. She hated the thought of Roxanne falling prey to Myron’s pouting lips. Stan however was totally engrossed with every move Roxanne made, and yet seemed unable to get past the holding hands and kissing stage. Last night Roxanne had followed Stan from couch to bedroom and back to the couch countless times. Susan had stayed out of the way in her study with a bottle of wine and her laptop.

Eventually tiring of the exercise, she fetched a bottle of wine from her husband’s private cellar and handed it to them.

“Here, amuse yourselves with that, I’m heading off to bed and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

She had stared at Roxanne behind Stan’s back and inserted a finger into the O shape formed by her thumb and index finger, the implication obvious. Her daughter had looked at her and smiled weakly as she stroked Stan’s hair and nodded.

She had lain awake for an hour after that listening to the footfalls on the landing as Roxanne followed him back and forth. Susan had eventually sighed and reaching for her trusty vibrator, fucked herself to sleep.
Susan paused in the den to find Stan fiddling with the controls of the Gameboy and her face flushed as her eyes fell to the sealed envelope on the table. She opened it and scanned the note.

Mom,
I’ve tried so hard to get it together with Stan but nothing seems to work, but I know he loves me. I’ve gone to the mall today with Tracey and Maggie to check out the guys, hope you had a wonderful birthday. Stan is still here, can you see if you can talk to him? I really love him and want him to make love to me. Do you think he’s embarrassed? Could you talk to him? Maybe he’ll listen to an older woman, you always seem to have the right words to say. Oh and happy birthday as well, go out and reward yourself today, you are the best.
I love you mom.

She slid the letter under a pile of bills and wandered through to the kitchen, returning with a six pack and a look of determination on her face. Roxanne was her life, an only child and the only good thing to come out of marriage to an ambitious New York stockbroker, apart from her expense account. Something akin to tenderness washed over her as she reached back and undid the button of her slacks, her daughter had a chance at love while she was caught in a web of her own making. Was it better to marry for love or money?

She smiled and grabbing the six pack, entered the room.

“Stan, would you be a dear?”

He looked up as she pulled two beers out, “my button?” she turned her back to him and stared at the mirror opposite them, “it’s come loose and I can’t seem to find my third hand.”

“Oh,” he blushed and reached for her just as she stepped forward, forcing him to put the Gameboy down and stand up. His fingers trembled as he fumbled with the button.

“Why is women’s clothing so hard to undo?” Susan chuckled, “it obviously wasn’t designed by a woman that’s for sure.”

“There,” he stepped back and she smiled as she studied his reflection. Okay, he looked embarrassed, and when she looked down she saw the telltale signs of arousal.

She turned and handed him a beer and sliding her hand under her blouse, adjusted her bra strap.

“And my bra, I’m always having to adjust it.”

Stan stared at her breasts and then swallowed and looked away.

Susan experienced a moment of panic.

He likes me?

“You like Roxanne?”

He fell into the sofa and cracked the beer.

“I love her.”

“So, why don’t you fuck her?” her eyes softened, “she wants to fuck you, a mother knows these things, and last night I gave the both of you carte blanche to fuck each other’s brains out,” she cracked the beer.

“I don’t know,” he blushed and gulped his beer, “it’s hard to explain.”

“Explain away,” she lit a cigarette and knelt in front of him, noticing that he was looking at her strangely, “is it the first time for you?”

He looked away and she smiled.

“And you’re not sure if the little red fireman works?” Susan slid her hand up his thigh to his shorts and rubbed him, he stiffened suddenly and looked down.

“Oh,” she cooed, “you are a big boy, I think Roxanne would like this inside her.”

He shivered and Susan unzipped his shorts and stroked his shaft through the boxer shorts; their eyes met as she set her beer down. He was transfixed, afraid, and she felt a stirring of lust and desire, maybe her daughter hadn’t been assertive enough.

She unbuttoned the single button and easing his cock through the slit, started caressing it gently, watching it grow in size, he whimpered slightly as he watched it stiffen.

“Oh Mrs Smith, what are you doing?”

“Breakfast,” she smiled.

He touched her hair and moved down to her neck.

“Mrs Smith, I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” the last word spilled suddenly from his lips.

“It’s Susan,” she cooed, “call me Susan,” her mouth descended on the glistening head and she flicked her tongue around the base of the head while he started breathing heavily. She reached out at that precise moment and snatching the beer from his hand before he dropped it, set it down and licked her way down the shaft while she worked his testicles and perineum. His eyes went back in his head as she tongued his shaft up and down and then opening wide, took his head inside and slid down to the base. He grabbed her hair and cried out as she sucked and began moving up and down, faster and harder, alternating with tickling movements until he was moving up and down crying Roxanne’s name over and over. He suddenly grabbed her head tightly, trying to push her away but she grabbed his wrists and holding them down, picked up the pace.

“Move your head, move your head!”

He suddenly exploded inside her and she swallowed greedily, he was crying and laughing at the same time as he emptied himself against the back of her throat. His cries grew weaker until he finally collapsed back against the sofa and fell silent with a weak whimper.

Susan rose and swallowed the last bit and sat back.

They stared at each other.

“I think Roxanne will like you,” she swallowed a mouthful of beer.

“I did it inside your mouth,” he stared at her.

“Oh,” she looked down and buttoned her blouse, “well, this cost me two hundred dollars at Neiman Marcus, I wasn’t about to stain it.”

She rose and knocking the dead cigarette into the ashtray, lit two and handed him one.

“Well, now we both know it works,” she rose and sat on the arm of the sofa, “now, you think you can make Roxanne as happy as you made me?”

“And what about?”

“Me?” Susan brushed the hair out of his eyes.

“You’re nineteen and I’m forty five. I’m old enough to be your mom and I have other plans, but you tell Roxanne’s father or Roxanne and I’ll make your life a misery. She loves you Stan but she thinks you don’t love her. I’m going to the other house today and I’m leaving you two in charge. I don’t want that nasty little fucker, Myron getting his hands on her wet little pussy. I’ve seen the way he looks at her, but I like the way you look at her.”

“If she didn’t put you up to this, why did you do this?” he swallowed his beer.

She stroked his forehead.

“A long time ago I had a boyfriend like you, but then Roxanne’s father came along and because I was young and naïve, he turned my head with money and power, now I’m paying the price. I want my daughter to have the life I always wanted,” she bent down and kissed his forehead.

“Now do you understand why I went to such extraordinary lengths just now?”

“I didn’t know,” he stared at her, “I always thought I had to be you know, like Myron.”

“Myron is a shit,” she frowned, “he has ambition but you have heart, trust your heart and be the man Roxanne needs. If he makes a move with you around I’ll take care of the prissy little fucker.”

“Thank you,” he looked down at his shorts.

“Take the Chevy,” she stood up, “you know where the keys are. I’m going to the other house tonight and I’ll be gone until Saturday, you got a week to make the little red fireman do his duty for his country,” she winked.

Stan fastened his shorts and eying the beers, picked them up.

“Okay,” he turned to go.

“Forgetting something?”

She pulled out a box of condoms and tossed them, he caught them with a smile.

“Don’t drink all those before sex, otherwise your little red fireman will lie down and go to sleep on you,” she wagged her finger, “remember, mother knows best.”

As soon as she heard the Chevy pulling out into the street she picked up her cell phone and tapped out a message.

Got your letter and we talked, he would love a woman to go down on him. I’m going to the other house till the end of the week. Your father is back Friday night, I’ll be back the day after, I’m leaving one of my sex manuals under your pillow in case you need some motherly advice.
P.S. Don’t forget to swallow, love you darling.

She flicked through her Filofax absently while she drank her beer and finally stopped at P. Her face lit up with a cheeky grin as she recalled the plumber’s Australian nephew who had done some work here just last week.

Now he’s closer to my age, I wonder if he’s interested in cleaning out my pipes?

The phone answered on the second ring and she smiled cheerily at the Australian twang, Aussies had such a sexy accent.

“Bob’s Plumbing, Kevin speaking, can I help you?”

“Oh, Kevin, it’s Susan Smith,” she closed her eyes dreamily.

“G’day Sue,” he replied, “what can I do for you?”

“You were out here the other week, weren’t you?”

“That’s right, the good looking sheila with the rich husband.”

“Listen, I’ve got a plumbing problem,” she rubbed her pussy, “at the other house.”

“Oh right, I’m not sure if we have time today, but it all depends on how big the job is, maybe I can drop around after work?”

“Well it’s a small job,” she smiled, “maybe after work? It’s out in Lowell.”

“Lowell? Stone the bloody crows, that’s miles away, I’d have to charge extra I’m afraid.”

“Well I can double your rate and seeing as it’s a long drive hey, I’ll fix you dinner and a bed, you can stay overnight. We got a pool out there so bring your swimming shorts, we’ve got plenty of beer and entertainment to die for, what do you say big boy?”

“Done deal,” he chuckled a moment later, “what’s the address?”

She gave it to him.

“I’ll be there with bells on sweetheart,” he chuckled.

She farewelled him and hung up. A rueful smile tugged at her lips as she mentally packed her bags, just the essentials, lingerie, massage oil and her dildos.

Woo hoo! Happy birthday to me!

To be continued...

Written by Alastair Rosie