First of all, I could never have imagined these things would happen, ever, but they did. I was twenty and home from college on winter break, but that's only the beginning.

My dad and mom divorced when I was thirteen. He remarried the top model in his intimate apparel company when I was a sophomore in college. Her name is Erika, and we never got to know each other very well. Checking out pictures of her near-naked body on the company's website posing in teddies and baby-dolls was about as close as I had gotten to her.

Erika is easy on the eyes, so her appeal as a model is understandable. She is a real blond with natural tits. Her legs are like Sharon Stone's, an ass as tight as a drum, and the waist of Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With the Wind. Oh, and her face makes Kate Upton seem ordinary. This is a woman that doesn't get old. She's thirty-six going on twenty. I never did see what she saw in my dad. Wait, it must have been his money.

Erika likes to party. When Dad is away on business, she goes out and doesn't get home until the crack of dawn. Sometimes she's away for the entire weekend. So, on a snowy December night when dad was away for the week, I should have been out shoveling the driveway. Instead, I was home alone browsing porn sites on the Internet. Erika was on the prowl probably until sunrise or later.

On this particular occasion, I was looking for MILF vids. I like older women, married women. The thing is, I've found out that women in their thirties and early forties have this sexual awakening. I can't explain it but it happens, so there were a few interesting amateur vids with women masturbating, screwing the next door neighbor, sucking cock, fucking a bull in front of their husband and having DP. Some of them were real, but not most.

It brought me back to a time last year when I got lucky with a MILF. Her name was Dr. Frieda Weiss, an assistant professor in the sociology department. I went to her office for extra help.

She was an ordinary-looking woman in her thirties, but sexy in a professor's sort of way. Dr. Weiss greeted me with a compassionate smile, the kind that said, I'm anxious to help as well as, I could use some help of my own. She had an appealing rack that partially spilled out of her V-neck blouse revealing breasts that bounced each time she moved. This and her sensuous voice underlined my impression that the tutorial might involve us helping each other. Apparently, I was there on the right day. I hoped it wasn't my imagination.

"You have an interesting accent, Mr. Larsen. Where are you from?" she asked.

I explained that my family came to the United States from Sweden when I was sex. Embarrassed, I apologized. "Sorry, I mean six." She laughed. "My parents are divorced and my mom went back to Sweden."

She said something about the course I was taking and suggested a few helpful hints. I wasn't listening too carefully, having been distracted by the ruby brooch that hung above her considerable cleavage. But it wasn't her jewelry that captured my attention as much as the two globes surrounding it.

I was fidgeting with my notebook pretending to take notes when Dr. Weiss took off her glasses and rested them on the desk. She seemed to be having difficulty with what she was going to say next. I waited, thinking that without her glasses she was pretty and looked less professorial.

Finally, Dr. Weiss said she was pregnant in her second trimester. I wasn't exactly surprised since her bump was beginning to show. "Gosh, Mr. Larsen, I'm so happy to get that nausea and vomiting stage over with. I'm feeling so much better and maybe a little more passionate than my husband would like."

"Does a woman make love with her husband when she is pregnant?" I naively asked.

"Maybe you're too young to understand, Toby. Some women get aroused in the middle of their pregnancy. A woman in my condition could use a little fluff now and then."

"Really, I didn't know that," I said. I was beginning to catch on.

Frieda went on to say, "The trouble is, my husband is frigid because he claimed he would hurt the baby if we have sex. He's very protective, but he's wrong about that, you know. To be totally candid about this, I'd like to be grading fewer papers and making more love."

Touching my hand, she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend, Mr. Larsen?"

"No, not really, Dr. Weiss. I guess you could say, I'm between girlfriends." I was beginning to get nervous about the direction of our conversation and said, "It's getting late. I've got to get going, Dr. Weiss."

"It's raining pretty hard right now. Maybe you should wait until it lets up. Look, you seem to be the type of guy girls would be interested in. You're resourceful and might have some knowledge of what a woman wants."

I didn't, of course, but I had a hunch about why she wanted me to stay. "So you think I might be able to provide a little of that fluff?" I replied in my most manly voice.

Her nose flared slightly when she said, "You can call me Frieda since you seem to have grasped the concept." Opening her blouse and lifting her skirt left no doubt about the concept to which she referred.

She wasn't the only one horny when I screwed her on the desk in her office. She craved every stroke while I plowed into her. It was the first time I had fucked bareback. The secret place between her thighs was as inviting as a sauna on a cold Swedish night. My god how I loved her swollen breasts, huge brown nipples and juicy cunt.

I gave Frieda lots of fluff and maybe I came too quickly. It was hard to hold back. I came inside her with the force of a glacier calving into the sea. She sensed my youthful inexperience, so we had to have several do-overs.

For her part, Professor Weiss said how much she missed the free flow of hot semen gushing into her vagina. For me, the ecstasy of spilling my load into her body without the slightest risk of getting her pregnant was overpowering. It convinced me that unprotected sex was the way to go. From then on, I left the condoms at the drug store.

Dr. Weiss invited me back for more tutorial lessons. She wanted to teach me about the curriculum's oral history. That's when I learned of her incredible lips and cavernous throat. Frieda's double entendre complimented me on the progress I was making when saying how my corpulent erection showed more restraint, and how fluid my ejaculations had be-cum. Our affair lasted until the end of the spring term. My grade in her class reflected my "knowledge."

****

Anyway, back to watching porn on that wintry night at home. I got so hard watching a buxom woman get all of her holes filled, that I was one zipper away from showing my admiration for her dedication to the men. When Erika walked in the house, I was startled into reality. She was not happy. The first thing she did was open a bottle of wine and pour a large glass of Chardonnay. She had tears in her eyes while she finished her first glass like a parched hiker in the desert. On her second glass, she asked me to join her in the room to have a drink. She wanted to talk. I asked her, "What's the matter?"

"Tommy," she whispered, "I was at dinner tonight with some friends and one of them humiliated me."

"It's Toby, Erika. Is that why you are home early?"

"Yes, and something else."

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's really none of your business," she said sharply.

Oh, I forgot to mention, Erika has a sharp tongue when she gets angry. So, I went to the bar and got a beer to wait for her to cool down. After her second Chardonnay and into the third, she became melancholy, looking for sympathy.

"How old are you, Tommy?"

"Twenty, twenty-one next month, and my name is Toby."

"Okay, then you are old enough to understand."

I nodded in agreement although it wasn't clear what I was to understand.

"Toby, it's Toby, right?

"Yes, Mom, that's right."

"That's the first time you've called me Mom."

"Yes, I thought it would help you feel better."

"Well, like I was saying, you are old enough to understand that when your dad is away so often, a woman has certain needs like friendship, understanding and passion."

"We all need that, Mom."

"Yes, but women need a certain amount of romance too."

"Sure. I can understand what you're saying. I'm into romance too."

"I'm getting older, Toby, and I don't like it one bit. Do you think I'm pretty, Toby?" wiping away a tear.

"Very. You're beautiful."

She began to sob when she said, "Thank you, but a man at dinner was rude and said I was a fake and a tease. The thing is, he's a good friend and I like him. I needed him tonight, if you get what I mean."

I got it. I got it like a shotgun blast hitting me in the face at point-blank range. The color in my face was that of the stripes on the American flag, and it wasn't the white ones.

"You look embarrassed, Toby. Did I say something wrong?"

"No, mam. I'm not much of a beer drinker," I offered as my excuse.

"You're a good kid, Toby. Would it embarrass you if I said women's emotions are like a rollercoaster and our passions go along for the ride? There are times of desire when we are at the top, anticipating the excitement of going up and down, if you know what I mean."

I just sat there looking at my feet when I should have been looking at her beautiful body. I knew what she meant.

"Would you come over here and give me a hug? I need a hug," and she smiled, flashing her perfect teeth as white as fine china.

I put down my beer and sat close enough to her that the mice in the room thought we were Siamese twins. Then I gave her a hug. It wasn't a mother/son hug. The kiss wasn't, either. She had a mouth as sweet as a banana split.

"I needed that, Toby," she said. I was sure she did, and she said it in a way meaning that she needed more than a kiss. "And please, don't call me Mom again; it's Erika. Do you dance, Toby?" she asked.

"Not well," I said.

She offered to show me. "But there's no music," I argued.

"I'll hum a tune."

She hummed and we waltzed. My heart pounded out a different tune. It was like Gene Krupa's tom-tom beat in "Sing, Sing, Sing." Her perfume was as intoxicating as her soft purring that masqueraded as music. It sent my arms wandering below her waist, wrapping my hands tightly on her ass like squeezing a melon to see if it's ripe. "Oh Toby, that feels so good."

"Erika, give me a minute to catch my breath," and I sat down to sip my beer and work out my next move. She stood in front of me like the statue of Venus de Milo, only she had arms as graceful as a ballet dancer's.

"It's warm in here," I suggested. "Maybe you should take off your sweater before you suffocate."

She smiled, turned her back to me, then said, "I don't have a blouse under it, dear, but perhaps you're right. It's awfully warm in here." She unbuttoned her sweater, leaving it slightly open. Underneath was a pink pushup bra barely covering her nipples. "Do you think I really need to take the whole sweater off?"

"Yes," I said with a lump in my throat. "I think it would be a good idea."

"Okay, here goes," and she threw it off like it was a matador's cape.

At this point, it was uncertain who was seducing whom, although it was clear she was much better at it than I was.

After swallowing the lump, I said in my most manly voice, "Let's stop playing games here, Erika. Take off your bra, and show me those gorgeous tits."

She gave me a frown and said, "You're a little impetuous, Toby, and I think you might be thinking dirty thoughts."

"Maybe so. Maybe we share the same thoughts," I suggested.

"Maybe you're right, Toby, maybe we are at that." She smiled again but this time it was a sexy, lecherous smile. "Come over here and help me if you are so anxious to see my tits."

I fumbled with the clasps and let her bra drop to the Oriental rug we were standing on.

She turned toward me, saying, "Okay, so there. Do you like what you see?"

"Of course!" I said far too enthusiastically. "But wait, there's more!" I added. "Isn't that what they say on the infomercials?"

"You've got to be kidding, pervert," she squabbled in a very sultry voice. It was an obvious act. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.

"Take off the dress," I demanded in a less than an apologetic voice.

"You're getting pretty impertinent for your young age." I knew it was her way of putting me in my place. I let it slide like raindrops off an umbrella.

"Take it off before I tear it off, mademoiselle?"

"My god no! It's a Gucci! I'll do it."

Under her long dress was a garter belt holding up long black stockings and a small thong barely covering of her pussy. It was one of the intimate apparels I'd seen her model on Dad's website. It looked far better in person than on the Internet. She had obviously dressed for a long evening with the "good friend" that she had anticipated liking so much. But something went wrong with her plans, and I became the lucky replacement.

She tried to be coy and hide from my sight but I did what any good son would do, I held her breasts and kissed her deeply again. Game over. Erika wanted me. I wanted her.

I took her hand and led her to the sofa where we kissed again with my hand pulling her thong aside to finger her pussy. She was already wet. Her hand wasn't idle, probing my extended crotch and the pulsing organ that was playing inside my pants.

I left her stockings and garter belt on but slipped off her thong. She helped me out of my pants and briefs, taking what she found inside in her mouth. She was good, very good and could deep throat without the slightest hint of gagging.

As much as my cock was captivated by her throat, it yearned more for her pussy. I had to wait when she pushed my head between her long slender legs. I was no expert at cunnilingus, yet I did my best with her help. She was not shy about telling me what she wanted, what she liked, what she needed.

Thankfully she was shaved as bald as a billiard ball and her clit was like a pearl in an oyster. I polished that pearl until it glowed.

I couldn't wait any longer. Her legs were spread. Her pussy was dripping. I was all over her cunt and pushed in. I shoved it in all the way and didn't last long before delivering a full load of youthful seed.

"I thought you could control your urges better, Toby," she said after I had finished.

"I'm sorry. It isn't easy to be in control with a woman as sexy as you."

"Maybe you can show a bit more self-control if we do it again."

"I'll do my best," and I took her to my bed.

I definitely did my best. I fucked her doggie, doing my best to practice self-control. I fell asleep for only a while when she woke me. We did it cowgirl, showing a great deal of restraint. Erika did her best to sound like a broken record. "Toby, oh yes, yes, yes, yes, yes."

This time we both fell asleep for a short time. She awoke when I nuzzled her nipples and sucked them hard enough to nearly extract a few drops of mother's milk. She kissed me, turning so her back to me. She helped me find what I was looking for, pushed it in, and we fucked like two spoons fitting in the kitchen drawer. In the morning, I had my mouth on her pussy. She had hers on my cock. I did her missionary until I ran out of fluids.

She welcomed my dad home at the end of the week after Erika and I had more overnights entertaining each other to fill the void and boredom of the lonely winter nights. There is no doubt that women of a certain age, Erika's age, are hot. It was my mission to find more of them.

A month after Erika and I enjoyed quality time together, my dad had a huge party with friends, relatives, and colleagues to announce some exciting news. Erika was pregnant. Her due date was in the middle of September. I was back at school, regretfully unable to join the happy couple's celebration. It might have been a little awkward.

Anyway, it was after her son was born that I learned that Erika had wanted a baby. She had been hoping to conceive for months before the announcement. Dad said he was too old to father another child. He admitted that her unplanned pregnancy was rather surprising, but seemed happy when my "brother" was born. I guess I wasn't as surprised.