"Howdy, I don't want to see you anymore." Mrs. Blair said with her head bowed dejectedly. "You make me feel dirty, used, insignificant."

Here she goes again I said to myself. She's headed off on some emotional rabbit trail. It was more like chasing the rabbit into the mirror.

I laid there on the bed, naked, spread eagle facing her direction. My legs hung over the side with feet planted on the floor as I leaned back on both elbows. My flaccid cock draped harmlessly over my balls and still glistened with the mix of our cum. As she continued to whine, my nails scratched back and forth across my ball sack. Once my itch was satisfied, I turned my attention to freeing my pubic hairs from the sticky goo that temporarily glued them to my now limp dick. I rubbed the still damp globules of cum between my thumb and fingertips. I smeared some on my fingertip and touched to my tongue. Interesting consistency and texture I thought. It still wore the faint aroma of her musky scent.

Sitting casually, I played with myself as I calmly watched the train wreck unfold in front of me. Honestly, it was nearly textbook schizophrenia in my opinion. I was never sure how much of her carrying on was part of her role playing, or if indeed, she just might really be slipping back and forth between competing realities. Whichever it was, she was damn good at protraying both roles.

Never sure of what she would say or do, I mostly just listened to her complain about being treated like the cum bucket she claimed she longed to be. After all , if this whole act was role playing, wasn't I just being her best supporting actor? The last several times we had been together all ended in this same dramatic fashion. Surely I thought, at some juncture, it would end differently.

In the five short years I had known her professionally, it had become glaringly obvious that long lasting relationships were not her strong suite by a long shot. Emotionally, she wore the remnants of her failed love affairs like they were war decorations. Even though some were decades old, she talked about them frequently and in great detail as if they had all happened recently. She slung the lurid details of them around like disposable diapers. I knew she was afraid to just let those painful memories go for fear she would have nothing to blame her bad behavior on. She had told me before that she clung to her tapestry of misery like it was a stained and tattered baby blanket. She depended on it she said. It gave her the false sense of courage needed to put the stresses of her everyday life into perspective.

She continued her tirade as I searched for motives to her rant. Was her mental instability my fault because I gave her the kind of rough, sometimes degrading sex she begged for time after time? Was it my fault I too had grown fond of her quirky and sometimes bizarre sexual demands? It was Mrs. Blair who taught me to enjoy, make love, giving it to her in that rough, insensitive and almost angry manner that she craved? If those statements were true, was I also to blame for her low self esteem, or her self deprecating behavior? If she didn't want to be treated like a common street slut, she should demand more of herself first, I reasoned.

At some yet determined point I reckoned, it would have been easy to just walk away from her and all of her craziness if I really wanted too. Easy I guess if I hadn't cared so deeply for her that is. All of that craziness was entertaining to a degree, and added to her mystique.

I laid there watching, trying to make some sense of her behavior. It made me uncomfortable at times to observe her bizarre and extreme personality shifts. I marveled at how two vastly opposite personality types could peacefully coexist in one mind and body. Or did they I asked myself.

The fact that she was my best friend's mother made everything more complicated. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of mother she must have been, or still was for that matter. Keeping in mind that Mrs. Blair was also my boss didn't offer any consolation either. It looked like she had a firm grip on my entire life to be honest. She was a real work of art I smirked to myself as I half way turned my attention back to her muttering rant.

What's wrong with me I asked myself. Why wasn't I pursuing a normal relationship? You know, with a young woman close to my age, with similar interests and goals. Maybe someone with a budding career like mine. Maybe someone with a normal family.

The only class I remembered signing up for with Mrs. Blair was the one where, you know, we met when mutually convenient and fucked each others brains out, and then parted to go our merry separate ways. You know, it was over until the next time. Yeah, that's the class I thought I had signed up for I reminded myself!

It really fucked with my head to think that just a few short hours earlier, I had been sitting across the board room table from this same woman. Only then, she was the prim and proper Mrs. Blair, who expertly gave her quarterly sales report to the management and sales teams. In that world, she was a marketing whiz whose skilled acumen commanded respect and admiration. She exuded knowledge and bold confidence. Not only was she intelligent, she was a stunningly beautiful seasoned professional who dressed to impress and carried herself with great poise and dignity. No wonder I was drawn to her I chuckled.

As I sat quietly in the dank hotel room, taking in this freak show, my image of her morphed from the slutty tramp sitting across the room, back to the boardroom dominatrix who seemingly with the snap of her fingers, could suck the oxygen out of a room. It was like having the bad Mrs. Blair as my fuck slut on one side, and the good Mrs. Blair as my mentor and confidant, on the other side.

Mercifully, my mind took me away from this disturbing image of the trampy Mrs. Blair and back to sitting there in the board room, watching the good Mrs. Blair's ass shift back and forth in that tight fitting tailored skirt as she paced the board room floors. The steady methodical pace of her four inch heels tapping the marble floor became hypnotic. Her slow sexy movements had already given me an erection that morning. The form fitting silk blouse she wore really showed off her large tits.

The soothing melodic tone of her soft voice convinced my imagination it was okay to stray from the safety of the boardroom into dangerous fantasy land. As my mind drifted in and out between her words and where my imagination was taking me, I carelessly dropped my hand between my legs and dragged it length ways across my growing member. A few discrete rubs and firm squeezes under the conference table would have to hold me over until I could get some real relief after the meeting.

Following a few brief moments of careless self indulgence, I actually refocused and paid attention to the beautiful Mrs. Blair as she reported. As I watched this magnificent specimen skillfully apply her trade, I couldn't help but think she could run this whole fucking company.

I listened to her soothing voice, and watched her walk up and down the room, and sure enough, my mind again wandered. This time my mind raced all the way back to the first time I looked at her in a sexual way. I felt the flush of a warm smile cover my face.

My cock stiffened against my thigh again as I fondly remembered that day. Her son and I were moving boxes into our dorm room at Texas A&M when she appeared out of nowhere. It had been years since I last saw her.  My roommate sarcasticly reintroduced her to me hurriedly as he excused himself to go get another load of stuff from the trailer. As he brushed past her, she gave him a love punch to the upper arm and stepped further into the room.

"I'm Mrs. Blair," she smiled warmly, playing along. 

"You used to call me Howard, but everyone calls me Howdy now. You can too if you want," I said as I swallowed hard.

She was even hotter than I remembered.   About 5'7" and athletically built! She wore a white tank top with an unbuttoned cotton plaid daisy duke shirt over it that framed her cleavage and fell untucked past the waistband of her shorts. Even though the button up cotton blouse covered her nipples, the t-top was shear enough for me to see she wore no bra. Her khakis shorts barely covered her nice apple shaped bottom and really showed off her tan muscular legs. Honestly, she looked more like a coed than the mom of a fellow eighteen year old I thought as I stole glances at her.

I offered to shake her hand at the same time she reached behind her to shut the dorm door. She turned back towards me as the door closed, glanced at my outstretched hand, and reminded me that she was a hugger not a shaker. She took a big breath as she leaned into me. Her hug lingered longer than most mom's hugs do I thought. But her warm body felt too good for me to protest. Her arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to her as I clumsily gave her more of an awkward bear hug than a warm embrace. I could have sworn I felt the gentle raking of her nails pressing into my mid back. Her face was just inches from my neck and the heat from her breath on my neck sent shivers up and down my spine. Her hair was soft against my face, and the Angel perfume she wore was totally intoxicating.

All of those other things were great, but what consumed my being was the feel of her large tits pressed into my chest as she held me close. I was sure she felt the surge of blood that pumped eagerly into my young willing cock. After all, my cock was pressed snugly against her warm tummy. How could she not notice it? At last she released me from her embrace, her hands slowly running across my arms. She took my hands in hers, giving my palms a squeeze.

"You boys grow up so fast now days," she said as her eyes looked me up and down.

Her gaze fell on the large bulge in my gym shorts. A not so surprised grin greeted me as she moistened the corner of her parted lips. Without speaking, she nonchalantly pulled the plaid cotton panels to the sides of both tits, exposing the outlines of her hard, brown nipples as they poked through the shear white tee. Then with a fake yawn, she pretended to stretch as she arched her back, pushing those magnificent tits towards me. The crown jewels of her large tits poked teasingly my direction. She reached up and gently caressed my cheek with her thumb.

Mrs. Blair gave me an odd smile, then took another long glance my bulge and said, "See Howdy, two can play that game."

She slipped her business card in my shirt pocket. "If there is anything you want or need Howdy, come see me. All you have to do is call me."

Mrs. Blair casually covered herself just as my buddy walked back through the door. He glanced at her, and rolled his eyes at me as ours made contact. I just shrugged my shoulders and gave her a flirting wink behind his back as he walked by.

She told us her goodbyes as she turned towards the door. As she walked out, she stopped, looked past me towards my buddy and told him she loved him. He returned the love without even looking in her direction. She shrugged her shoulders, smiled and looked hard at me with her penetrating blue eyes. Then she glanced down at my crotch, returned the wink and mouthed the words, 'call me', as she closed the door behind her.

I remembered saying to myself, "You bet your sweet fucking ass I'll be calling you."

"Earth to Howard? Hello Howard! Do you have anything to add to the presentation, or are you going to sit there with a shit eating grin on your face?" Mrs. Blair asked coldly.

Busted! My trip down memory lane was shattered as I suddenly realized Mrs. Blair was talking to me. She deliberately wrestled my attention away from my daydream without so much as a warning.

"Howard, do you have any comments on the sales reports," she repeated loudly as all eyes trained their attention my direction.

Her inquisition rattled me from my daze. "UH, No ma'am Mrs. Blair." I replied, wiggling to once again straighten myself in my chair.

How embarrassing I thought. Here I sat dreaming about fucking her, and out of the blue, she calls me out in front of everyone.

"Very well, Howard." she continued, "as long as we are in agreement, we can move on." she said with a plastic smile.

Granted, I owed my career to her. It was obvious to everybody that Mrs. Blair had cleared the path for every promotion that came my way. Practically everyone could see the fingerprints of her manipulation in my budding career. She made sure I was steadily following her predetermined path for me, the one that could eventually make me her successor. Yea, I owed her big time, but dammit, how fucking embarrassing was that?

After the Great Calling Out episode, really weird thoughts bounced around in my head. How strange, was I just having a dream inside a dream, a memory inside a memory. I must be losing it I said to myself. She was having more of an affect on my head than I first thought.

I blinked my eyes hard a few times, as my focus slowly returned to watching the slutty Mrs. Blair sit on the stool in front of the cheap vanity. She sat boohooing as she berated the image staring back at her in the mirror.

Her sudden turn towards me in the squeaky chair jolted me from the flashback. Looking at her now, she was a far cry from that picture of confident grace and refined professionalism I was just fantasizing over. How she could switch personalities to assume this role as a trampy sex starved slut so convincingly, truly amazed me.

"You neither appreciate nor respect me as a person." she whimpered through blurry eyes as her gaze returned to her reflection.

"Oh fuck," I thought to myself. "Here it comes, another long drawn out pity party where she cries herself into a sobbing snotty nosed mess." She had carried on like this before, only to come out of it at some point with an insatiable lust filled hunger.

What was it going to take for this girl to grow up and accept responsibility for her actions? Was she going to be a slut or not? Mentally and emotionally, she's was just a childish 50 something year old pretending to be an adult. As strange as it sounded, I wasn't even sure which personality was the dominate one, or if there even was a second personality at all. For all I knew, she might have secretly desired to be an actress when she younger and this was how she played out her unfulfilled fantasies.

"Just make up your fucking mind. Just pick one," I said flippantly under my breath as I stole a glance her direction.

"What? What the fuck does that mean?" she asked angrily in response to the callous tone of my comment.

Mrs. Blair glared at me through her reflection in the mirror long enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I still had to watch myself I thought. She still was my boss after all. She got up and slowly walked towards me, with makeup and mascara smeared on her face like it had been applied with a squirt gun and small paint roller. I rolled my eyes at the pathetic sight of her as she drew near. One lacy thigh high stocking was still neatly in place around her upper thigh, the other, was stretched, wrinkled and sagging. Both stockings had a couple of large gaping tears where one of us had torn them during our rough playtime.

Standing with feet shoulder width, she cupped my chin in the palm of her hand, lifting my eyes to meet hers.

"Have you taken a real hard look in a mirror lately?" I sneered before she could speak.

"Fuck you!" she muttered under her alcohol tainted breath as she pushed me backwards.

She stood right in front of me, naked except for her stockings, reeking of perfume, booze and spent cum. The foul stench churned in my nostrils. Her shoulder length blond hair was a rat's nest and was matted in long strands where earlier, I had unloaded my first orgasm in her face and hair. She relished having cum shot onto her face and tits and I was more than happy to oblige.

Her large pendulous tits hung at my eye level as I sat upright on the bed's edge. Damn she had fine tits, and ass too for that matter. Her aureoles were brown and the size of half dollars. It seemed her nipples were always hard and yearned to be played with. I turned my gaze down her body, and admired her nicely trimmed, yet full patch of pubic hair. It was dark brown in color with a few grays thrown in for good measure.

She was the first woman I had ever fucked who had armpit hair. Not a lot mind you, just enough to be really noticeable . At first that weirded me out, but when I saw how turned on she got by rubbing her fingers through it, I myself grew fond of it rather quickly. Besides, it seemed like it fit her alter ego to a tee. She went so far as to intentionally neglect to wear deodorant on days when she knew we would meet. Fortunately, her body odor was very mild. I was thinking she deserved some kind of acting award or recognition for being Best in Show.

More than once, I caught myself swearing that if she wasn't such a fantastic piece of ass, I'd never put up for this type of crazy irrational behavior. I said that repeatedly, but there I was, putting up with it again. Sometimes. it was hard to tell where her reality stopped and started. Despite her unpredictable behavior, I never refused an invitation to be with her.

Somehow, fucking your best friend's mom just always seemed wrong to me. Doing it without him knowing though, was very arousing. For some odd reason, I do think he knew I was banging her, but neither of us ever had the courage to breech the subject. Despite how strange it sounded to others, or to me at times, I was spellbound by this woman.

She slowly pushed me onto my back, then straddled my lap and folded her arms over her naked breasts. For the longest time she said nothing. She just sat there on top of me, blankly staring at me as her tears formed muddy ribbons that dripped from her cheeks to form mucky splatters on her tits.

"You're really quite a sight, ya know?" I laughed at her mockingly.

Instinctively, she took a swing at my face but my forearm deflected it harmlessly away. As quickly as she angered, she giggled, and smiled her sultry grin at me. Bending forward, she placed her hands on either side of my chest as her tears dripped onto my neck and chest.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I said, pushing her backwards, away from me.

Her hairy twat was already working it's magic on my cock as she once again started to rock back and forth on me. The tip of my cock laid firmly between her cum soaked hairy lips. She knew I couldn't, or wouldn't say no to her anymore than she could or would refuse me. Was this a sign we were growing helplessly codependent?

Soon, she was moaning and moving across me like the whore she loved playing. With her fingers laced in mine, she held my hands above my head as she rubbed her tits on my face and chest. I leaned upwards to suck one, then the other.

What kind of spell had this woman cast on me? As much as I felt like I could take it or leave it, I knew for a fact that I could not leave it. She was such an attentive lover, and always willing to do anything that came to my sometimes perverted mind.

So there we were, just a few minutes after she told me she didn't want to see me again, and now she was bouncing up and down on my raging hard on like a eighteen year old prom date. Go figure.

I watched her intently as she fucked the ever living daylights out of me again. It wasn't too long after she had closed her eyes and started her low groaning mating calls, that she came in a frenzy of body spasms and violent jerks. After her initial orgasm washed over her, waves of small ones followed as she wiggled about on my still swollen cock.

"You should have blown your wad in me," she said tauntingly. "What's the matter young man? Don't you want to fill Mrs. Blair's cock hungry pussy with your cum?"

My eyes stayed focused on her face as she ground her hips in large circles, sliding my cock around inside her like she was working a joy stick. She wore the expression of an child enjoying a new Christmas toy. She smiled to herself as she moved about on me, pushing the head of my cock one direction in her, then another.

Her body glistened with her perspiration , diluting the water based makeup even more. With her dreamy bedroom eyes still closed, she nibbled at her lower lip. Sitting upright on me, she took both hands and covered her tits, squeezing them tightly. Her thumbs found her hard nipples and she pinched and rubbed them roughly. She licked her lips, lost in a fantasy she refused to share.

I watched, mesmerized by her. As she sank deeper into her thoughts, I studied her. Thinking about how good it felt to have her sitting on my cock, made me twitch a few times as new blood extended my size inside her tight walls. It didn't go unnoticed and she slowly opened her eyes.

"Coming back to life man slut?" she chided.

Not that it bothered me one way or the other, but her impromptu use of a pet name for me caught me by surprise. Usually I called her the nasty names as I was fucking her into oblivion. Was she turning the tables on me now? I knew she got off on me referring to her as a slut, or whore, or cheap tramp. Was she trying to denigrate my behavior to justify, or nullify her own? I'm sure the half puzzled look on my face begged an answer .

"What's the matter baby, don't you like the name man slut?" she asked with a smirk.

I laughed, "I don't care what you call me Mrs. Blair." I answered coldly, "just make sure it's me you call when you need a good fucking. Got it slut?"

Her face flushed crimson and her nostrils flared. She wasn't sure how to respond to my new found boldness. I moved my hand up her chest and wrapped my large hand around her neck, squeezing it firmly. She grabbed my forearm with both hands and squirmed slightly in mild protest, but didn't struggle to free herself of my grasp. Our eyes locked hard on each other with laser focus. Her breathing was shallow and rapid in anticipation of what might come next.With my throbbing cock pulsing inside her, and fully engorged with fresh blood, I held her in place by the throat and reached for her face with my other hand. I could feel the arteries in her neck pumping furiously as I slid two fingers across her soft cheek, then from corner to corner across her soft trembling lips. Then I paused, with fingertips lightly pressed to her lips, and pushed them into her mouth. I loosened my grip on her throat and she loudly moaned an ' Ahhhh fuuuuck ' as she took my hand with both of hers and sucked my fingers like a cock. Her tongue slithered around and between my fingers as I pushed my fingers around in her mouth, exploring the inner walls, across her pearly whites and around her darting tongue.

My fingers ran up and down the length of her long tongue several times before I slid them deep, nearly gagging her. Slowly, I circled her tongue several times with my fingers before I withdrew them from her mouth. As I pulled them out, a long string of her saliva stretched from her tongue to my fingertips. I combed my wet fingers through her hair, wrapping them behind her head. With our eyes still locked on each other, I took a handful of her bottle blond hair, pulling her face towards mine.

God, this woman was so fucking hot. Now my cock was a raging hard on and ready to deliver another load somewhere in, or on her. Her lips parted to suck in my tongue as I forced it into her mouth. Our kisses grew noisy as I rammed my cock deeper in her once more. She felt my cock rocketing back and forth in her with an angry determined roughness. A few good hard grinds from her hips and an evil grin consumed her face.

"Oh yeah! That's my man slut! Fuck that dirty cunt for Mrs. Blair," she demanded with a snarl.

Her titties bounced up and down as each hard thrust lifted her off the bed.

"You going to fuck your tired old slut until you cum all over me? Hm Howdy? You going to fuck me till I can't walk?"

Too late for shameless begging I thought. I thrust my cock as hard as I could in her, hitting the back of her shallow vagina with each hard push. One thing I loved watching was my long thick cock splitting her fur coated lips. I was going to unload a big one this time. I could feel it readying deep in my loins. It wouldn't take but a few more hard bounces from her and I would unleash it's full fury deep inside her.

We had been here before. She knew I was ready and she slammed herself on my cock as fast and hard as she could. Each time she descended, her ass cheeks slapped at my balls. Our voices became a cacophony of unrecognizable utterances. She began her low pitched animalistic moans, the kind that always ended in a crescendoed shriek known to penetrate thin hotel walls.

As I pumped as fast as I could in her, I released her throat and squeezed both her tits in my firm grasp. We both grunted hard as our bodies slammed together like a finely tuned machine. She leaned forward, laying her chest on mine as I bucked wildly inside her. I slapped her ass cheeks hard, then slipped a finger in her tight little starfish. That was enough to trigger her full release and she squirted her sweet nectar all over me as I dumped my balls into her vagina. She jerked hard several times as she felt her insides convulsing uncontrollably around my love cylinder. Hard spurt after spurt shot into her throbbing pussy. Ropes of velvety milk white cum filled her completely and spilled out of her as I continued to push in and out of her pulsing cunt. Her primal grunts and groans eventually gave way to heavy sighs of post orgasmic bliss. Except for the involuntary twitching of our sex organs, we laid motionless, totally spent.

We laid together for an hour or so, exhausted physically and emotionally. Fucking her was more than just a sex act. It was an ordeal, an experience like no other. Fucking Mrs. Blair was like a trip to a whorehouse and Disneyland all wrapped into one unpredictable and unforgettable event. Her unconventional behavior kept me guessing and demanded my full attention. And I gladly surrendered it to her.

We shared the shower together, washing each other and kissing, groping, complimenting each other on their performance. I turned her and pulled her back to my chest. As I kissed at her ear, I slipped my fingers past her firm tummy and into her furry mound. I loved the feel of her hairy pussy in my hands. I leaned her into the shower wall and fingered her until she was close. Then we both masturbated, ejaculating on each other. We shared a hearty laugh and continued groping and kissing as the hot water cleansed and massaged our spent bodies.

She took her time drying, dressing, primping. When done, once again, she looked like the VP of sales and marketing. Her newly applied Angel perfume was light and again, intoxicating. Her makeup was picture perfect. The fresh smell of her hair reminded me of days gone by. Her lipstick showed off her beautiful full lips, and her eyes regained their sparkle.

She studied herself in the mirror as she straightened her clothes to conform to the image of a busy exec. I kept my eyes on her as I finished dressing.

Finally convinced she was done, she turned to face me and gave me a warm embrace. It was very much like the first one she used a few years ago to invite me into her web. I'm sure she felt the twitch of my cock as her warmth enveloped me. She took my shoulders in her hands and held me at arms length as she surveyed my look.

"If memory serves me correctly, I think you are up for a raise and promotion Howard. That is, if you can handle a few new challenges," she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Management recommended I select someone from my staff to accompany me on a series of week long training sessions to each of our satellite offices. She reached between my legs and caressed my cock, you up for that challenge Howdy, I mean Howard?" she asked with a wink and raised brow.

I stood there and marveled at her ability to convincingly transform her entire persona from busy executive to slutty tramp back to busy executive almost seemlessly. She gave my cock a final squeeze and she turned to leave. I watched her walk out the door, my eyes fixed on how nice that skirt fit her tight ass.

"Oh, I'm up for the challenge alright. I'll be up any time you want Mrs. Blair," I smiled as I followed her out the door.