Bully's Mom Pt. 01

Author's Note

If you're looking for a story with monster cocks and big breasted women with plump asses, then you might want to skip this one. This is basically the tale of two "losers" who come together. The woman is decidedly average in looks. She's short and skinny with smaller tits and a flat ass, and her lover is scrawny with what might charitably be described as an average sized cock.

Originally, I intended to tell this story in one chapter, but it quickly grew longer than I anticipated, so it will be split out into at least one additional chapter that should appear sometime in the (relatively speaking) near future.

Comments and constructive feedback are always appreciated.

*****

Bully's Mom: Part 1

"You're such a dumb bitch. No wonder dad left you. You're always against me, always taking the other side. I'm tired of putting up with your crap."

Sandy sighed helplessly as her son, Brad, stormed off and slammed his bedroom door closed behind him. She was standing near tears in the hallway, holding the official warning letter sent home from school informing that her son was assigned detention for a week as punishment for bullying another student.

His insults cut deep, like a knife tearing into old wounds. It frustrated her to no end that Brad seemingly inherited all his deadbeat father's worst traits. It killed her that her own flesh and blood, her son, served as a constant reminder of the biggest mistake in her life, namely, her failed relationship with his father, Parker.

Brad was ignorant, self-centered, and ill tempered, just like Parker had been throughout their turbulent three-year affair. And those character traits only fueled his worst behaviors, including his belittling abuse that always placed the blame with others for his misfortune.

Parker was good looking in high school, and Sandy was blinded by his chiseled features when she began dating him shortly after graduation. Her parents and friends had all warned her that he was bad news, but she was convinced that he was misunderstood and a good man at his core. She knew he was a little rough around the edges, but she was convinced she could soften his tough guy persona.

They moved in together, and Sandy became pregnant shortly after, but she quickly realized that changing Parker was an exercise in futility. She wistfully recalled her mother's constant warning, 'Men marry a woman hoping she'll never change. But women marry men hoping that he will.'

After three years, Parker had cheated on her repeatedly and left her penniless with a toddler to raise on her own while he skipped town and moved in with a blonde skank. Ashamed, she moved back in with her parents, who helped raise Brad while Sandy worked full time and put herself through college part time, determined to make a better life for herself and her son. She eventually earned her degree and forged a career path that enabled her to move out of her parent's house and buy a small three-bedroom bungalow on her own, where she and Brad still lived to this day.

The house was modest, but it represented independence and success to Sandy. Frustratingly, Parker inherited his father's thriving business when his parents passed away at a relatively young age. The business largely ran itself, and he just collected the profits. After a short while, he moved into a gated community and began living a much more luxurious life. Even though he flaunted his wealth, Sandy refused to pursue any child support from Parker, and he gladly refused to offer any.

Parker was content to be a deadbeat dad, but nevertheless, Brad seemingly found no fault with his father. He held him up on a pedestal, admiring his large estate, European cars, and endless string of beautiful girlfriends. Brad blamed his mother for their relatively poor living conditions compared to his father, even though his father refused to lift a finger to help him.

It frustrated Sandy to no end that she provided shelter and made sure that Brad was fed, but her ex only invited Brad to come over for the occasional meal, not even giving him a room on his estate or letting him stay overnight. Nevertheless, he poisoned Brad's view of her mother, constantly pointing his litany of complaints against her, even though she refused to ever utter a bad word to their son against him.

As Brad got older, he even physically grew similar to his father. Whereas Sandy was barely five foot tall and a hundred pounds, Brad stood 6'2" and a stout 200 pounds. She tried to love him, but Sandy resented the fact that her own son served as a constant reminder of her own poor judgement 18 years ago.

Now 37 years old, she wondered how her life had ended up like this. She sat down at the kitchen table as she reread the letter from school for the hundredth time. She knew the kid he had bullied. His name was Fletcher, and he lived two blocks away. Brad had constantly berated and bullied the poor boy ever since the first year of middle school when they bought their home and moved into the neighborhood.

It sickened her knowing that her son bullied the poor kid. Fletcher was smaller, maybe 5'4" with slumped shoulders and a scrawny frame that made him a physically easy target for a hefty boy like Brad. By all indications, Fletcher was a quiet but polite young man who didn't deserve the constant barrage of insults and physically rough treatment that Brad subjected him to.

Sandy felt a certain guilt and responsibility for Fletcher's pain. She felt helpless to stop the abuse. Heck, she couldn't even get Brad to treat herself with a modicum of decency, so what hope did she have to convince him to treat anyone else with respect? Getting Brad to apologize for his behavior was a lost cause, but perhaps she could at least express her remorse and sympathy for her son's actions.

Guilt stricken, she decided her best recourse was to pay Fletcher a visit and offer a heartfelt apology for her son's misdeeds.

*****

15 minutes later, she was standing at the front door to Fletcher's house. She walked the two blocks, trying to figure out the words she would say to him, but her mind was a jumbled mess. Sighing, she looked up to the heavens, praying for divine intervention to deliver the words to her tongue as she pressed the doorbell.

After ten seconds with no response, she was about to turn away and leave when the door swung open, but instead of Fletcher, she was confronted by the sight of an older short-haired blonde woman she assumed was Fletcher's mother.

"Who the hell are you?" she ranted.

"I - I'm Sandy. I live a few blocks over, but I think my son, Brad, bullied your son."

The blonde-haired woman was indignant. "Lot of nerve you've got showing your face around here."

"I'm sorry for my son's behavior," she tried to apologize.

"Wonder where he gets it from? You must be a rightful bitch yourself," she scolded her. The blonde-haired woman looked about 5'7" and 140 pounds as she stood barefoot in the doorway, but the door was three steps above ground level where Sandy timidly stood, and the blonde-haired women might as well have been ten feet tall with the way she seemingly towered over Sandy's cowering body.

Sandy was clearly flustered, and she felt herself shrinking before Fletcher's mother. "I'm sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm trying to make amends, or at least extend apologies for my son's awful behavior."

"Well, then maybe you should've raised him right," the woman berated her. "I hardly blame him. I'm sure he's just a product of his environment. Besides, my boy needs to learn to be a man and stand up for himself. He just lets that miscreant of yours push him around. He needs to grow a pair, but instead I'm left dealing with a sniveling mess of a kid who's failing some of his classes because he can't seem to focus on his studies."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea," Sandy replied, crestfallen.

"Of course not. If he doesn't get an 'A' on his final exam for business, he might fail the semester. And if he fails that, he's in danger of not graduating. And then what? Then he's stuck living at home forever living off my meager paycheck. Thanks a lot."

Sandy's heart faltered, but then an idea came to her. "I have a degree in business. Please, I want to help. What if I tutored him? Maybe I could help him pass his business class and graduate?" she offered.

Fletcher's mother eyed her suspiciously. "I ain't got no money. I can't pay you. What's in it for you?"

"Nothing, I just want to make it right," Sandy insisted. "I know my son mistreated Fletcher. Please, it's the least I could do." Sandy forced a smile, hoping to break through the blonde-haired woman's hard exterior.

She eyed Sandy with a steely gaze. "Fine. The name's Lisanne. You can come back here the same time tomorrow and begin tutoring him. I'll tell Fletcher so he knows to expect you, but you'd better not be lying, or I swear to God, you'll regret it."

Before Sandy could react, Lisanne slammed the door in her face, leaving her shell shocked and wondering if she wouldn't end up regretting her gesture of goodwill.

*****

"Where the fuck is dinner?"

Sandy had just walked back in the house when Brad's voice thundered from the kitchen.

"What kind of mother are you?" he complained.

"There's some spaghetti in the fridge," she groaned, mentally exhausted after her confrontation with Lisanne and unwilling to confront her combative son.

"I've had that the past two nights. I'm tired of leftovers," he fumed. He proceeded to grab her purse off the counter and pulled out her wallet. "I'm going to get some take out," he decided as he pulled out a twenty dollar bill and tossed the wallet back in her purse. Then he promptly turned around and walked out the front door.

Lisanne seethed inside as she balled up her fists and screamed out her frustration. She felt helpless and hated herself for not standing up to him. She hated that she let him walk all over her. She hated that she felt like a failure as a mother. She hated how her son bulled her and others. She hated how Brad's father had a bigger house and more money when she worked twice as hard. She hated how her son reminded her so much of his father and all his worst traits. She hated the fact that she hated her own flesh and blood, her own son.

*****

Sandy laid awake in bed that night. She was desperate to make amends for her son's transgressions, but Lisanne had been so confrontational, Sandy worried that she was making a mistake in tutoring Fletcher. Still, guilt over her son's actions ate away at her, and she needed to at least attempt to make it right.

Sandy's frustrations were boiling over. As much as Brad caused her consternation, she hated herself even more. She hated that she was always a pushover, never standing up to her son and just letting him carry on with his impudent behavior.

She felt sympathy for Fletcher, although she knew next to nothing about him except that he looked shy and unassuming. She had seen him around the neighborhood, but she had never spoken to him.

Brad always referred to him as a dweeb and a loser, but she knew her son's judgement of others was suspect. After all, he was convinced that his own mother was a failure, although some days she felt that way. Sandy closed her eyes and tried to sleep. After all, tomorrow was a new day, and maybe she could take the first step in making things right.

*****

Sandy stood before the door to Lisanne's house. She rang the doorbell and then patiently waited at the bottom of the steps. The curtains on the front window rustled as someone peeked out, and then seconds later, the door creaked open. A small scraggy boy appeared in the doorway. He had a mess of brown hair on top and penetrating dark eyes.

"You're Brad's mom?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes. I'm Sandy," she responded. "Your mother said you could use some help in your business class. I could try to tutor you, if you'd like?"

The boy pushed the screen door open and then stepped back. "Come on inside," he waved.

Sandy grabbed the screen door and held it open as she climbed the three concrete steps and entered the home.

Inside was dark. The carpet was worn and dated. The décor was haphazard and tacky.

"Sorry, we don't normally get visitors, so the house is a mess," he explained.

The counters and tabletops were filled with trinkets, unopened mail, and random objects never properly stored away.

He led her to a kitchen table and offered her a seat. "Let me grab my books. We can work here, if that's alright."

"That'll be fine. I'll wait for you right here," Sandy replied.

Fletcher disappeared down a hallway while Sandy studied the room. The kitchen linoleum tile was coming up at the edges, and the laminate countertop was marred, and the top layer was coming apart in places. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink.

"Where's your mother?" Sandy asked as Fletcher returned.

"Oh, she works second shift. But she also works the weekends, so her days off are in the middle of the week. That's why she was home yesterday, but she's back to work today."

"I see."

"Do you actually know this stuff?" Fletcher asked as he opened his textbook.

Sandy flipped through the pages in the book, scanning the text, and her anxiety diminished as she found an easy familiarity with the material.

"Yes, my degree is in business, so this is in my wheelhouse," she answered confidently.

She began carefully going over the material with Fletcher. He initially got terms confused and didn't understand the relationships between different variables, but Sandy patiently explained each detail point by point and broke down the concepts into simple terms. After a while, she saw the light going off in his head as the material slowly began to make sense and he began to piece it all together. Her poise grew as Fletcher's eyes lit up with each new detail he internalized. He was an eager pupil, and she was grateful for his willingness.

"That's the first time any of this made any sense to me," Fletcher marveled after they turned past the last page on the lesson.

"it's easy when you've got a motivated student. It's actually a pleasure teaching someone who actually listens. Brad never - " but Sandy stopped as Fletcher's face darkened at the mention of her son's name.

"I'm sorry. I guess it's the elephant in the room, as they say," she apologized.

Fletcher turned to face her, but his face went blank as he swallowed the pain. "It's nothing," he said, as he brushed aside her concern.

"I'm sorry my son's a horrible person," she declared, to Fletcher's shock. "I know he bullies you, and it's not fair. I know how it feels. He does the same to me."

"Really?" Fletcher reacted with incredulity. "But you're nis mother."

Sandy sighed. "I know, right? That's why I feel guilty over how he treats you, I wanted to do anything I could to atone for his sins. That's why I offered to tutor you. But I didn't raise Brad to be that way. He's too much like his father. He doesn't listen, and he doesn't care about anything I say. Everything is always my fault, and nothing I do is ever good enough for him."

"My mother treats me the same way," Fletcher forlornly admitted.

"She can come across a little harsh," Sandy responded as she recalled Lisanne's abrasive greeting when she answered the door yesterday, "but I'm sure she cares deeply and only wants the best for you."

"You don't know her like I do," Fletcher insisted. "Nothing I do is ever good enough. Ever since I turned 18, she's been threatening to kick me out of the house. She says I'm a man now, and I should be bigger and stronger, so I can take care of her to pay her back for her taking care of me my whole life."

"You're a smart kid," Sandy observed. "You've got a lot of potential. You learned this material so quickly today. I don't understand why you're in danger of not graduating high school."

Fletcher just shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. School doesn't always come easy to me. I used to ask my mom for help when I was younger, but she'd just yell at me to study harder. I tried, but it didn't help."

"There's an old saying about the definition of insanity, about how you can't just keep doing the same thing and expect different results," Sandy mused.

"Yeah, it's like I was banging my head against a wall," he agreed. "So, I just give up easily if I don't understand the material. It's like, what's the point?"

"I'm sorry you've had to go through all that. You're a good kid. I'm happy to tutor you if it'd help with any of your classes. Finals are next week, right?" she asked, remembering that Brad was taking his finals that week.

Fletcher nodded his head in understanding. "This has actually been fun. I never thought I'd call studying fun, but you're a pretty cool woman. And yes, finals are next week. I think I could still use more help. I need to make sure I do well on this test to pass the class and graduate, so maybe we can study tomorrow night again?"

"Tomorrow is Friday night," Sandy gently reminded him.

Fletcher looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you already have other plans."

"No, it's not that. I don't - have any plans. I just thought.... most kids are looking to take a break from school on the weekend."

Fletcher's face went from hopeful to downcast.

"But if you'd like, I'd love to do this again," Sandy offered.

Fletcher's face beamed, and he practically leaped across the table and gave her a hug. Sandy was startled by his sudden movement, but she relaxed as he kept a tight grip on her.

The hug lingered, but it seemingly came from such a pure and innocent place that she wrapped her arms around Fletcher and squeezed back before they broke the embrace. Then she picked up her purse and got up from her seat.

Fletcher showed her to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow night," he said hopefully.

"I'm looking forward to it," she smiled back.

*****

Sandy still had a smile on her face when she walked in the front door to her house, pleased that she made a positive impact on someone's life.

"Where've you been?" Brad scowled at her, and Sandy's face immediately turned to a frown.

She panicked, knowing how her son would react if he knew she'd spent the past few hours with Fletcher.

"Nowhere. I just had to run some errands," she fibbed.

"It doesn't look like you bought anything?" Brad replied with suspicion.

"I was dropping off some Amazon returns," she replied, speaking the first thought that came to her mind.

Brad looked disinterested and didn't press the matter. "Well anyway, you left me to starve here. I had to go over to dad's to get some dinner," he complained.

"You went to your father's house," Sandy realized, her ego bruised. "There's frozen pizza you could've made. Or you could've made a sandwich. The spaghetti is still in the fridge. There's food."

Brad just ignored her rebuttal. "Dad's got a new girlfriend," he declared with a toothy grin. "She's a hottie."

"He's always got a new girlfriend," Sandy complained in exasperation. She tried not to speak ill of her ex, even though he didn't usually afford her the same courtesy, although her frustration was boiling over.

"Sounds like you're jealous," Brad needled her. "Dad said you were always jealous of other women."

"I'm not jealous," she reacted defensively.

"It's okay. You never dated again after dad."

"That's because I was busy being a mother," she shot back. She held her tongue and refrained from pointing out that her ex never took the time to be anything more than a sperm donor.

"You just tell yourself that," he responded dismissively. "But what man would want you? What do you have to offer? I don't even know what dad ever saw in you."

Sandy was near tears as she choked up while he berated her.

"I don't blame dad for leaving you," he continued. "You're always complaining. You dress like a fucking grandma. Your hair is plain; your face is plain. You don't have any curves. You've got small tits. What are you? Barely a B cup? What do you have to offer that any man would want. What man would want you?"

Sandy was dying inside, and she just shook her head. Her vision went blurry as tears filled her eyes.

"Maybe if you actually tried you'd get a man to look at you. Not someone like dad. You'd have to play in your league. His new girlfriend, I think she's like 25, and she's a looker."

"They're only interested in his money," she seethed.

"Which you don't have any to use to attract a date like dad does?" Brad pointed out.

Sandy bit her tongue to keep from snapping.

Brad left the kitchen, leaving Sandy standing there feeling humiliated and enraged.

*****

Later that evening, Sandy laid awake in bed. Her mind was awash in thought. Her son's hurtful words still rang in her head, still driving her to tears. But then she replayed the tutoring session with Fletcher, and a smile returned to her face. Fletcher had been so polite and eager, it had been a positively pleasant experience. He actually listened to and respected her, which was more than she could say for her own blood.

And then she remembered the hug that Fletcher gave her in the end. It had caught her by surprise. She searched her mind, but she had lived such a sterile life in recent years, she couldn't recall the last time anyone else had even touched her. The embrace was warm and heartfelt. She didn't realize how much she missed love and affection, just the feel of a human touch until that moment.

She pushed the hurtful memory of her son's insults out of her head, closed her eyes, and dreamed happy thoughts of tutoring Fletcher as she drifted off to sleep.

*****

It was Friday night, and Sandy rang the doorbell on Fletcher's house. She chided herself for getting excited about the tutoring session, realizing that her excitement only reflected her life's sad state of affairs.

Nevertheless, her son's stinging words from last night also rang in her ears, and she found herself taking extra measures as she prepared to visit Fletcher. She put on a touch of make-up. A little black eyeliner to bring out the color in her eyes. A little mascara to smooth out the lines creeping into her face. And a touch of lipstick to make her lips appear fuller and more plump. She teased her hair. Normally, she just wore it in a ponytail, but she decided to wear it down for tonight.

She changed out of the normal long shapeless dresses she wore to work. Yesterday, she had worn jeans and a tee shirt while tutoring Fletcher, but she wanted to wear something that better matched the effort she had already put into her face, something that would boost her self-confidence.

She looked in her closet and settled on a knee length skirt and short sleeved blouse. Afterward, she smiled when she looked at herself in the mirror, feeling cuter than she'd felt in years. Then she looked down in dismay at her legs. She kept them shaved, but now they just looked painfully pale. Normally they were covered by pants or a long dress, but she thought they looked almost unsightly compared to the rest of her. Then inspiration struck, and she put on a pair of pantyhose to complete her ensemble.

When Fletcher appeared at the door, his face broke into an earnest grin, and Sandy felt relieved to see her efforts to make herself more presentable appreciated.

"I'm glad you came back," he said

"Me, too," she winked.

They sat down at the kitchen table again and reviewed the next chapter in his textbook. The lesson went even faster than last time, and Fletcher seemed to have a strong grasp on the material in less than an hour.

"You're a fast learner," Sandy remarked.

"That's because you're a good teacher," Fletcher quipped.

"Thank you, but it's nothing," she said with a wave of her hand.

In the process, she accidentally knocked over a glass of water, and it spilled onto the floor. There was a rag hanging on the chair next to her, and Sandy grabbed it and got down on her hands and knees to wipe it up.

As she finished, she looked up and caught Fletcher staring down her blouse, and he looked away in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to - I mean - "

"It's okay," she reassured him, although she felt her cheeks turning flush red.

"I can't believe you're related to Brad," he muttered.

"I might not believe it myself if I hadn't given birth to him and watch him come out of me," she responded. "I'm sorry, that's probably a gross image."

"That's okay. You look really nice tonight," Fletcher complimented her.

"Thank you," Sandy blushed. "Do you still need more tutoring?"

"The final exam is coming up soon. I can't afford to fail. Can we meet tomorrow night again?"

"On Saturday night?" Sandy asked skeptically. "Boy, you really don't have a social life. But that's okay. Neither do I," she said with a wink.

Fletcher walked her to the front door, and as she turned to say goodbye, he gave her another hug, only this time it didn't catch her off guard, and she returned his embrace. Even though he was scrawny, Fletcher was still a few inches taller than Sandy, but he leaned his head on her shoulder, and she felt his breath on her neck. His arms were wiry but surprisingly strong, as was his chest as it pressed against her.

And then his lips lightly touched the side of her neck in what was unmistakably a kiss, and his hands dropped down to her ass. She panicked. Her body tensed up, and she pushed him away.

"I'm sorry," he apologized profusely. "I don't know what came over me."

"I should head back home. I need to make sure Brad has something for dinner," she stammered as she hurried out the door, reminding herself that her son was Fletcher's tormentor.

*****

"I'm going to need the car tomorrow night," Brad announced as soon as Sandy walked in the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Just out with friends," he replied vaguely.

Sandy sighed. Brad had his license, but he still didn't have a car. Money was still tight after replacing the furnace last winter, and he never helped out with gas money. She realized it wasn't worth arguing over however, after she realized she had no need for the car on Saturday evening. After all, she could walk the two blocks to tutor Fletcher tomorrow night.

"Besides, not like you ever have anything happening on Saturday night," Brad ribbed her, trying to make light of the situation.

"I suppose," she conceded.

Then Brad turned and went back to his room without so much as an acknowledgement of gratitude.

Sandy's body tensed up in frustration, but then she thought about seeing Fletcher on Saturday, and she relaxed as she made her way to the kitchen and fixed dinner.

*****

Sandy laid down to sleep on her bed and took stock of her life. She was 37 years old and had worked hard to overcome the difficulties of raising a child as a single mother. She had finished college and was proud of the fact she furnished a stable life for herself and her son, even if Brad held no appreciation for the comforts in his life. Her life might not have turned out as luxurious as her ex's, but they had a roof over their heads and a bed to sleep in at night, all the necessities.

Still, she realized there was a void in her life, an emptiness that she couldn't escape. She busied herself for so long with motherhood, school, and work that it left no time for the pursuit of happiness. There was a spark missing; her life was devoid of joy. She hated to say it, but her son was like the old Sheryl Crow song. He didn't bring her anything but down.

But when she thought about Fletcher, a smile came to her face. Their tutoring sessions had been the brightest spot in her life in recent years. They talked and related so easily, and it filled her with a joy she relished.

Yet tonight had ended in awkwardness. When she caught him looking down her blouse, she had been mortified. Luckily, she was wearing a bra, so nothing was really exposed, yet she was shocked he was even interested in looking at her that way, in a sexual light.

She had dressed more nicely that evening, although her outfit, while more feminine, was still decidedly modest. Nevertheless, teenage boys had raging hormones, and perhaps Fletcher had misinterpreted their friendship as something more.

Then when she was leaving, their embrace turned awkward when he gave her a kiss on the neck and grabbed her ass. Given his slight build and short stature, she couldn't imagine he attracted much attention from the girls at school, and he was probably starved for attention, especially considering his acrimonious relationship with his mother. Sandy worried if she had inadvertently led him to think there was something possibly romantic between them.

She tried to extinguish the possibility from her mind, but the memory of how much she enjoyed their tutoring session was undeniable, and it filled her with warmth.

Then her mind's wanderings were interrupted by the noise coming from her son's room. He was a gamer, and one of his games was on high volume, and the noise blared through her wall. She was about to get up to complain and tell him to keep it down when Brad began to speak. Their bedrooms shared a wall, and his loud brash voice easily carried through the thin sheetrock.

He normally wore a headset so he could communicate with the other players in the game, but this time, Brad was talking about more than just in game action.

"Darren, I'm going out with Angela tomorrow night. She always puts out," Brad announced loudly and proudly. There was a pause while the other person presumably replied directly to Brad's headset, so Sandy couldn't hear. "Yeah, it'll be my first time having sex."

Sandy gasped. She realized her son was talking to Darren, one of his friends at school. He was another impish brute, and together they regularly terrorized anyone smaller than them.

"Yeah, I'm still in fucking detention," Brad continued on. "What a fucking drag. That stupid fucking Fletcher. I can't believe he went crying to the principal, the bastard. I'd wring his fucking neck if I didn't think I'd get suspended. But we're coming up on graduation in a few weeks, and then it's open season on the twerp."

Sandy felt guilty eavesdropping on her son's private conversation, but the revelations were startling. Brad was reasonably good looking, but his arrogant behavior was a turn off, so he'd never had a girlfriend. She had wondered if he was sexually active, but this answered that question, although it sounded like he'd lose his virginity tomorrow night. Then she remembered that Brad was borrowing her car, and she was disgusted by the possibility of her car's interior becoming soiled by a sex act.

She found herself feeling sorry for whatever girl he intended to have sex with. She remembered back to her own relationship with Brad's father, Parker, and all the misery and heartbreak that ensured. She hoped that Brad wouldn't cause similar harm and dysfunction to this girl's life, but she was less than hopeful.

She was also disappointed to know that Brad hadn't learned a single thing from detention. If anything, he was even more determined to exact revenge on Fletcher, and it left her crestfallen, convinced that he was a lost cause.

Heartbroken and unable to take any other bombshell revelations, she pulled a set of noise cancelling headphones over her ears and played white noise to drown out her son's voice as she drifted off to sleep.

*****

The next day, Sandy waited until Brad left with the car before she emerged from her room. She dressed similarly as the day before, wearing a short sleeve blouse paired with a knee length skirt and pantyhose underneath. The only difference this time was instead of flats, she decided to wear short heels. They were only two-inch heels, but the extra height gave her a boost of confidence, although she wore heels so rarely, she practiced walking around the house for a few minutes to avoid walking pigeon toed before leaving.

Sandy walked the two blocks to Fletcher's house. Her relationship with him was completely platonic, yet she hurried along, worried that neighbors might somehow watch and judge her for visiting Fletcher's house every night.

She waited impatiently at his door after ringing the bell, but he quickly answered, and she rushed in, suddenly self-conscious of what others might think of her visiting Fletcher while he was home alone.

"I'm glad you came back. I'm sorry how I acted when you left yesterday," he apologized as they made their way to the kitchen.

Sandy looked at him as she sat at the kitchen table. She realized there was an awkwardness between them, so they might as well address the elephant in the room.

"Why did you kiss me?" she asked.

Fletcher froze, and then it was as if his body shrunk before her very eyes. "I don't know. It just felt right," he reacted defensively.

"Have you ever kissed a girl before?" she inquired.

"No," he admitted with his eyes shamefully pointed at the ground.

Sandy swallowed hard, choosing her words carefully.

"I take it you've never had a girlfriend then?"

Fletcher shook his head, not daring to lift his eyes.

"You've got a lot going for you, kid," she informed him.

"I'm not a kid," he pushed back, lifting his head and looking her dead in the eye.

"I'm sorry," Sandy hesitated, thrown off by his strong reaction. "You're 18. You're a man, but you're still young and you've got your whole life ahead of you. Besides, what would you want with an old plain jane like me," she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"But you're gorgeous," Fletcher shot back.

Sandy nearly fell out of her chair. "You can't possibly mean that," she muttered.

"Look, I know I'm not worthy of you. When you look at me, you just see a scrawny kid who's almost failing out of school. But you've got it all put together. You finished college. You own your own home and completely provide for everything."

"I don't have it all put together," she softly rebutted.

"You've looked really nice in the skirt and blouse the past two nights. You're soft and delicate in all the ways a woman should be. You're like a dream," he proclaimed.

Sandy was taken aback. "Fletcher, I'm afraid you're projecting a fantasy upon me. My life is a mess, but you've got so much going for you, and you don't even know it. There are so many girls your age, a lot younger and prettier than me who'd love you if they just got to know you. You just need to put yourself out there. Besides, what would your mom say if she heard you talking like this to me?"

"She doesn't care about me," he reacted with scorn.

"I know she can be a little harsh, but deep down you're still her son."

"All she cares about is herself," he insisted. "She just belittles me all the time. She tells me all the ways I'm not good enough and makes me feel like crap."

"What about your father?"

"He pays child support, but he's got his own family out of state," he explained. "He doesn't want anything to do with me. I haven't seen him in ten years. But that's why my mom is getting after me to carry my weight and take care of her. The child support payments stop in a few weeks after graduation, and mom doesn't know how we'll afford all the bills without it."

"I'm sorry, that's a tough situation," Sandy apologized.

"I get it. I'm a loser. I don't know why you'd want someone like me. Hell, your own son hates my guts, although I don't know what I ever did to him."

"Nothing," Sandy muttered softly. "He likes to pick on weak people, on people smaller than him. It makes him feel big, but it's really just a façade, a wall. There's nothing behind that wall but bluster and self-hatred. He treats me the same way."

"But you're his mother," Fletcher replied.

"I'm aware," she said with an embarrassed smile. "I don't know where I went wrong with him. Nothing I do, nothing I provide is ever good enough. His father inherited a fortune from his parents and doesn't really have to work, so he holds his father up on a pedestal and resents me because our lives aren't luxurious like his, even though my ex wants nothing to do with his own son."

"Does he know that you're tutoring me?" he inquired.

Sandy shook her head. "I can't bring myself to tell him. He'd just make fun of me, and I'm tired of the disparagement."

"I can relate to that," Fletcher realized. "I'm tired of always getting picked on. I don't deserve this, and neither do you."

"Sounds like we're two peas from a pod," Sandy grinned in shared pain.

"I love how we can relate to each other," Fletcher observed. "You're the only person who understands me. I wish you were my mother."

"I'd love to have a son who actually appreciated me," she concurred.

"I don't get it," Fletcher questioned. "How are you single?"

"I'm nothing special."

"You've been listening to your son too much, and like you already pointed out, he doesn't know what he's talking about," he rebutted.

"As my son constantly reminds me, men want a woman with curves. I don't have a round ass or big breasts. My face is plain. I just blend in. I'm like the definition of a wallflower," she sighed.

"They don't know what they're missing out on. You've got a lot to offer."

"Thank you for that. So do you," she said with a forced grin. "What about your mom?"

"What about her?" Fletcher asked.

"She never dated again after your dad?"

Fletcher just rolled his eyes. "She doesn't even pretend to be discreet around me anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"She's got a constant string of boyfriends she's always bringing home," he opined. "She takes them home for a night of wild sex, and then after they've had their fill of her crap, they move on. She's pretty loud and shameless during sex. I always hear her in the throes of passion. It's a revolving door, though. They figure out how psycho she is, and then they split. She blames me, always says she'd have a man, but that I drive them away."

"That's not fair she puts that on you," Sandy protested.

"She says she can't go a week without sex," Fletcher replied as he shrugged his shoulders.

Sandy was taken aback. "Jesus, I've gone since my ex moved out when Brad was still a toddler."

They stared at each other in silence, the sexual tension between them clear but unspoken.

"Do you miss it?" Fletcher asked, finally breaking the silence.

Sandy hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should discuss that level of detail with an 18 year old boy, but she gave in to her impulses. "Yes, but I'd want it to be with someone I care about," she decided. "Sex is more than just a physical pleasure. It should be an expression of love. Do you want to know a secret?"

"Sure." Fletcher leaned forward, and his ears perked up.

"Brad is still a virgin," she informed him, but then Sandy realized her son might be losing his virginity right at that very moment.

"That bastard. He's always making fun of me for being a virgin," Fletcher laughed.

"Like I said before, he's all bluster to cover up his own shame and self-hatred," Sandy grinned.

"Can you imagine if we did have sex?" Fletcher proposed.

Sandy was taken aback. "We already went over this."

Fletcher's face broke out into a cheeky grin. "It's still hard for me to believe that Brad is your son. You're polar opposites. He gives me hell, and he gives you nothing. But you give me hope. My heart lifts up just at the sight of you. I've smiled more these past few days and felt better about myself than in all the rest of my life combined, and that's because of you."

"This is so inappropriate," Sandy said under her breath. "We shouldn't be talking like this."

"Do you really not feel an attraction between us?"

Sandy hesitated to answer, and Fletcher stood up and walked over to where she was seated. He ran his hand through her hair while standing next to her.

"This is crazy," she said, finally finding her voice. "We were just talking about how you wished I was your mother and you were my son."

"Well, that obviously can't happen," Fletcher pointed out. "But maybe this is the next best thing. Besides, who said business was the only thing you could tutor me on."

Sandy closed her eyes and tried to calm her nerves. Her body was shaking, and her panties were damp. Impulsively, she reached her hand up until it landed on the bulge in Fletcher's pants. Then she opened her eyes as she squeezed his manhood through his shorts. He wasn't impressively large, but he was hard, and his cock throbbed in response to the pressure she exerted on it.

"Don't make me regret this," she remarked as she looked up into his eyes.

Fletcher was so giddy, he could barely contain his excitement. Then she slid her hand under his pants and underwear, and she reached for his hard meat. The heat emanated from his pole as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, and Fletcher let out a gasp while her other hand lowered his shorts and underwear until they dropped down to his ankles.

His penis was in full view in all its hardened glory. Sandy stared at it, mesmerized by the sight of him. Her fingers were wrapped around his shaft and lightly tugging on him, his skin stretched taut across his erect shaft but sliding over his member with her grip as she lightly jerked him.

Her other hand reached over to cup his balls, fondling them. They were full, almost bursting with his seed.

Fletcher was nervous, fearful that his manhood was underwhelming, unimpressive.

It'd been so long since she'd touched a man, she'd almost forgotten what it was like. She marveled at his circumcised head, at how his shaft felt in her fingers, and how his balls bounced in her hand as she tickled his taint.

"This is just between us," she said as she looked him dead in the eyes. "No one else can know."

Fletcher's tongue was dry, and he cleared his throat. "I'd do anything for you."

Then Sandy smiled, and she leaned forward and opened her mouth. Her lips passed over the head of his cock and wrapped around his shaft as her tongue began to flit against the very tip of his manhood.

Fletcher let out a heavy sigh. "Jesus, that feels so good."

Sandy smiled, even as her lips were wrapped around her young lover's cock. She held him in her mouth for a moment and just let her tongue run over his shaft as he pulsed in her mouth. And then she began loudly slurping on his pole, moving her head up and down on him.

She remembered when she used to give head to her ex. By the end, it was like a chore he demanded of her, and she resented it. But Fletcher was such a grateful lover, communicating his pleasure in wordless moans that left no doubt.

She controlled his pleasure. She controlled him in that moment as her lips smacked against his shaft. She was even able to deep throat him, taking his full five inches in her mouth until her lips pressed against his body, her bottom lips rubbing against his balls and pushing his pubes aside as his sweet precum leaked out on her tongue.

She wanted to drive him wild. She had intentionally started slowly, but now she was about to furiously bob up and down on his pole. His cock throbbed in her mouth, her tongue delicately slathering over every inch of his manhood when his body tensed up.

Right as she began to pull back, his cock exploded in her mouth, and his salty cum shot out to the back of her throat, making her gag. Sandy's mouth flew open, and his cock sprung free as the cum kept firing, spraying across her face and hair as shot after shot fired off while Fletcher unloaded his balls until she was a cum covered mess, with his white seed soaking into her hair, covering half her face and dripping off her chin. The last shots of cum dribbled off his cock, falling down on her chest between her cleavage and staining her blouse.

"I wasn't expecting that. Give a girl a heads up," Sandy coughed and complained as she sat back and tried to wipe the cum out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," Fletcher apologized profusely. "I've just - I've never had a blowjob before, and you don't know how good that felt. I couldn't hold it in. God, I'm sorry."

The initial shock passed, and Sandy sat back in the chair and laughed. "I guess it's like riding a bike. And here I was afraid of disappointing you."

"That was incredible," he gushed.

"I've only ever been with my ex," she responded as she made a show of swallowing his salty load down her throat. "I'm not very... experienced. I was worried I might disappoint you."

"You could never disappoint me," he promised.

Then Fletcher grabbed a rag hanging on a nearby chair and handed it to the tutor. "Use this to clean yourself off for now. I can find something better. Just need to look through the linens."

"This is fine," Sandy insisted as she wiped the cum from her hair and face.

"I'll make it up to you," Fletcher insisted. He began fumbling awkwardly with her skirt, trying to pull it up, but she pushed him away.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I was going to go down on you. I figured it was only fair. Especially since I ejaculated prematurely. I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted you to cum too."

"It's alright. The moment's passed," she replied grim-faced.

"But I can do better. I promise. It's just my first time." Fletcher's voice was growing high-pitched and despondent, fearful that he had messed up their relationship, messed up his shot to have a sexual relationship with her.

"Next time," Sandy teased him.

His ears perked up. "Next time?"

Sandy flashed a big toothy grin. Fletcher's cum was still visible over her tooth enamel. "How about this? We've skipped our lesson plan for tonight, but we still need to make sure you're prepared for your exam. So, maybe I'll offer you a little extra incentive. If you're a good boy and we finish the next lesson, maybe you'll get a special treat."

"Like another blow job?" he asked hopefully.

"Like all of me," she responded.

"All of you?" he questioned as her offer slowly sunk in.

Sandy nodded her confirmation as he eyed her body up and down. "All of me," she reiterated.

*****

Sandy was walking on air as she approached her house, but she was surprised to find the car parked in the driveway. Suddenly, she worried that Brad realized she wasn't home and had somehow taken his date back there to have sex. She approached the front door carefully, but the blinds to the living room were half open, and she saw her son alone on the sofa watching tv.

Relieved, she opened the front door and walked in the house.

"Where'd you go?" Brad asked, his tone frustrated and confrontational.

"I just went for a walk," Sandy replied.

"Dressed like that?" he scoffed as he eyed her heels and skirt.

"I thought you were going out tonight?" she questioned, ignoring his snide remark.

"Didn't work out like I planned," he replied cryptically, and Sandy wondered if his plans to hook up with Angela somehow fell apart.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she answered.

"Yeah, not as sorry as I am," he mumbled. "Did you go out to eat or something?"

"In a sense," she replied cautiously, the taste of Fletcher's cum still on her tongue.

"It's like you spilled your food all over yourself," he remarked casually, barely lifting his eyes from the tv screen. "Your blouse is stained. Did you really walk home looking like that?"

"I suppose I did," she remarked as she peered down and saw Fletcher's cum dried up on her blouse. "It got a little messy and kind of ended up all over me. I tried to wipe myself off, but I guess I missed a few spots."

"I think there's a little in your hair, too. Geez, you're a mess, mom. Where did you say you went for dinner again?"

"It's a new neighbor I recently met in the neighborhood," she fibbed, unwilling to admit she'd been spending so much time with the boy her son regularly bullied.

"Whatever," Brad said dismissively as the game he was watching returned from an ad break.

Sandy quickly escaped the living room, thankful to end the questioning. She made her way to her bedroom and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She could've died after her son recognized Fletcher's cum in her hair and blouse. She quickly shed her clothes and threw them in the hamper while she waited for the shower to warm up.

A few minutes later, the warm waters cascaded down her body. She carefully shampooed her hair and scrubbed her body, mindful to clear out any last remnants of Fletcher's cum from herself. She picked up the razor, and she shaved her legs, wanting herself to be as smooth as possible for Fletcher.

And then she looked down at her pussy, at the wet stringy mess of pubic hair growing like a bush from her most private area. She hadn't expected the evening to go the way it went. She had intended to confront Fletcher about him kissing her neck, but she assumed that would just lead to a meek apology and then they'd get back to studying. She never imagined it'd lead to oral sex.

Nevertheless, after he had prematurely ejaculated all over her face, he had fumbled with her skirt, but she rebuffed his advances. She did so partly because the moment had passed after the shock of receiving an unexpected facial. But also, she didn't feel presentable. She wasn't ready for sex.

But now as she looked down, she wanted to make herself ready for her young lover. Fletcher had offered to go down on her, but she didn't want him to be turned off by her huge untamed bush. So, she applied shaving gel and proceeded to shave her pussy bald.

She let the shower water rinse off the last shaved hairs down the drain as she admired her freshly shorn vagina. She laughed as she looked at it in the shower mirror and couldn't help thinking it looked ugly with the folds and flaps decidedly inelegant, but she desperately hoped that Fletcher would appreciate the lengths she went to prepare herself for him.

*****

Later that evening, Sandy laid awake in bed again when she heard Brad's voice coming through the wall, his loud arrogant tone easily carrying through the drywall.

"I'm so pissed that Angela cancelled on me," he declared.

Sandy put her ear to the wall and remained perfectly still so she could overhear her son's conversation. She felt guilty eavesdropping on him, but she was desperate to know what was actually going on in his life.

"Fuck, what do you mean Angela was seen out at the lake with Petey tonight. She fucking cancelled on me to go out with that prick. The fucking whore."

Sandy realized that was the reason why he was home early, and also the reason for his foul mood that evening.

"Yeah, I was looking forward to finally getting some action. It's embarrassing still being a virgin. I just want to get my dick sucked and then tear up some pussy."

Sandy was horrified to hear her son talk so crudely about sex. Nevertheless, she pressed her ear even harder against the wall.

"I feel like a fucking loser just having to beat myself off all the time. This must be how that dweeb, Fletcher feels," Brad snickered. "Yeah, you know that loser is still a virgin. Poor kid will probably die a virgin."

Sandy couldn't help grinning as she overheard her son's conversation and remembered how she sucked off Fletcher earlier that evening. She considered how much fun it would be to let Brad know that Fletcher had sex before him, but there was no way to explain it without divulging her own intimate involvement.

"Dude, the only person getting less action than me right now is my mom. I ain't ever even seen guys try to flirt with her. She's like a sexual repellant. There ain't no one that wants to get in her panties. I don' t even know how she ever got my dad to sleep with her. She must've tricked him or something. I think she got pregnant on purpose, trying to trap him into marriage, but he was too smart for that. Lucky for me, I got all my traits from him, otherwise, I might be a scrawny wuss like that little bitch boy, Fletcher."

Sandy pulled her head away from the wall. She'd heard enough, and now she fought back the tears. She always knew that Brad was uncouth, but his vulgar mouth and his lewd characterization of his own mother was beyond the pale. She buried her head in her pillow as the tears flowed out and soaked through the fabric.

After a good cry, she lifted her head and dabbed away the tears with a tissue.

"I know at least one man that wants to fuck me," she said with determination. "And I'm going to let him."

*****

It was Sunday, and Sandy opened the drawer on her bedside stand and pulled out the bag from her shopping trip earlier that afternoon. Inside was the skirt and blouse she had selected at the outlet mall, as well as a small Victoria's Secret bag.

She turned the Victoria's Secret bag upside down, and the matching black see thru bra and panties fell out onto her bed, as well as the stockings she had purchased. The undergarments seemed insanely expensive, but she wanted tonight to be special. Besides, she reasoned, it had been ages since she indulged herself. She told herself she deserved to be pampered for once in her life, that she deserved this.

She stood naked in her bedroom and looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall.

Her tits weren't large, barely even a B cup, but they didn't sag like how the bigger breasted women in her office always complained theirs did. She remembered seeing her own grandmother changing in front of her years ago, and how her breasts nearly sagged to her waist, so she was thankful that her own breasts were still relatively pert. Not to mention, the women with D cups always complained about back pain, which Sandy had thankfully never experienced.

And though her ass was a little flat and definitely not plump in any way to produce an hourglass figure, she still had a relatively flat stomach. She was far from a supermodel. She still wished she was taller, but maybe she wasn't as bad looking as she feared, or at least certainly not as hideous as her own son often portrayed her to be.

She slipped on the see thru panties and looked at herself in the mirror. Her pussy was plainly visible through the sheer fabric, which both embarrassed and titillated her. Then she put on the bra, and she was pleasantly surprised how it pushed her breasts up and together, amplifying her cleavage. She twisted her body in the mirror, admiring herself from different angles, pleased for once with her own reflection.

After putting on the black bra and panties, she looked over the skirt and blouse. The skirt was a little shorter and tighter than what she was used to wearing. She put it on, and she felt half naked as the skirt reached halfway up her thigh. It was shorter than anything she'd worn in her life, but she told herself women commonly wore skirts that length, although it still unnerved her to think she could be one of those women.

Then she picked up the blouse. She ran her fingers over the soft silk material before slipping it on. She buttoned it up, but then she undid one of them. And then another. Just enough to show a little cleavage from her push up bra.

She went to her make up table and fixed herself up. This is crazy, she told herself, as she dolled herself up for an 18 year old boy who was the same age as her son... a boy that her son regularly bullied.

Yet, she felt a kinship to Fletcher. They bonded over their lonely introversion and loud obnoxious families. They found a kindred spirit in one another, an open ear that listened when no one else would.

Then, she put on the thigh high stockings. She had opted for stockings instead of pantyhose because they just seemed so much sexier, so much naughtier. She rolled them up her leg and marveled at how much more alluring her legs looked with a black pair of nylons, although she could see the top of the elastic bands just barely peeking under the hem of her skirt, and she hoped that it wasn't too obvious to anyone else.

After strapping on a pair of high heels, she took one last look at herself in the mirror. She looked like a slutty teacher, which she realized was maybe her intent, albeit subconsciously. Now she only hoped that Fletcher would appreciate the effort she put forth to prepare herself for him.

*****

"Whoa, where are you going dressed like that?" Brad asked suspiciously as his mother walked past the living room where he sat watching tv.

Sandy cursed herself, wondering why she didn't think to sneak out the back door and around the side to avoid walking past her son. She was certain he was so engrossed in the game on tv that he wouldn't even pay her any attention, but she was sadly mistaken.

"It's the same place I went last night," Sandy explained, figuring she'd lean into the lie she already told her son. "There's a house in the neighborhood, people get together to get in touch with their emotions. They're helping me attain enlightenment, to touch the core of our souls and human existence. They help people work on positivity, to work past their frustrations and be thankful for the simple things in life. You can come along if you want," she offered, gambling that he was sufficiently offput by her description.

"Hard pass. Sounds like a cult," he decided.

"Suit yourself," she said with a satisfied grin.

Sandy was pleased with herself for conjuring such a clever excuse on the fly. She closed the door behind her and began walking down the street, her heels clicking on the concrete sidewalk as she practically skipped along the whole way to Fletcher's house.

*****

Fletcher's jaw dropped to the floor when he caught sight of Sandy.

She couldn't help but smile at his obviously excited reaction.

"May I come in," she smiled seductively.

Fletcher was speechless, but he opened the door and stepped aside.

Her confidence rising, she walked to the kitchen swaying her hips, leaving him standing in the doorway and having to pick his jaw up off the floor.

"Now remember, we have to get you ready for your final exam this week," she said with a seductive grin and a wink as she turned around and motioned with her finger for him to join her as she sat down at the kitchen table. "And if you're a good boy and complete your lesson, maybe we can play a game afterward."

Sandy made a show of crossing her legs in front of him, the hem of her skirt rising up and revealing the top of her stockings, and Fletcher's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

Fletcher sat down and eagerly began the lesson, although he was constantly distracted, his eyes wandering back to his tutor and gazing at her legs and trying to look down her blouse at her pushed up cleavage.

"Fletcher, my eyes are up here," she reminded him with a wicked smile, clearly relishing her role as the naughty tutor.

"I'm sorry," he apologized sheepishly at being caught red-handed staring at her bits.

"If you can't be a good boy and pay proper attention, then I may just have to punish you," she threatened with a grin, and Fletcher nearly fell out of his seat.

Sandy was having the time of her life. She had always heard that confidence was the sexiest trait in a woman, and she was having a blast playing the role of a seductress. Fletcher was like a puppet on a string, and she controlled his every movement. With just a bat of her eyelashes, he swallowed hard. With just a touch of her hand on top of his, his body started shaking.

For the first time in her life, she felt sexy and desirable. She was a temptress. And she was determined to play the role to the hilt.

As distracting as Sandy's performance was, Fletcher was equally determined to get through the lesson so they could get to whatever came after, so he attacked the lesson with renewed focus. And then something clicked, and the entire lesson suddenly made sense. They breezed through the rest of the chapter, and he aced all the review questions at the end.

"I'm impressed. I think you're really mastering this subject matter," Sandy complimented him genuinely.

"I guess I just needed the right motivation," Fletcher replied with a goofy, toothy grin.

"Wait, did you think you were going to be rewarded for completing this lesson?" she replied.

"Yeah, don't tell me you were just teasing me," he replied, his voice tinged with desperation. "I thought maybe we could play around like yesterday."

Sandy just shook her head. Then she got up from her chair and stood right in front of Fletcher. She put her finger under his chin and lifted his head up as she bent over at the waist and leaned down until she was eye level with him, their faces barely an inch apart.

"Why should I reward you?" she answered, and his face looked hopelessly lost. "I've been tutoring you every night, helping you learn your material so you can pass your final exam and graduate, and what have I gotten in return? Nothing. So, why don't you try seeing it from my point of view, and maybe then you'd realize it's not you who deserves a reward, but it's me."

Fletcher's face lit up in excitement as her face broke into a sly grin.

"It's you." he repeated breathlessly.

"And I won't take no for an answer," she said with a wink.

"What kind of reward do you want?" he asked hesitantly, his throat going dry.

"You," she answered simply.

Fletcher was so overwhelmed that he nearly fainted.

But then Sandy stood up straight, her 5 foot tall body in all its compact glory standing before the young pupil.

"I couldn't help noticing how distracted you were while we were studying," Sandy cooed as she twirled her dark hair in her fingers.

"Was I?" Fletcher responded nervously.

"Your eyes kept drifting, always drawn to my legs and my skirt. Were you trying to look up my skirt?"

"I - I - I don't know," he stuttered, unable to stop shaking.

"Oh, I think you were. I'm thinking you'd like to take a peek under my skirt. Isn't that so?"

Fletcher nodded his head, his eyes in a daze as if he were in a dreamlike trance.

"Go on and lift up my skirt and take a peek, big boy," she suggested.

Fletcher mumbled an indecipherable response as his fidgety hands reached up to her legs. His fingers curled around the hem of her skirt, his skin pressing against her thighs and the smooth fabric of her stockings as he swallowed hard. And then he pulled the skirt up an inch, and the top of her stockings immediately came into view.

The young man was already hyperventilating.

"Keep going," she encouraged him, and his hands lifted up higher and higher, inch by inch as her panties were revealed, and his eyes bulged out all over again as her bare pussy was plain to see through the sheer fabric.

Then Sandy reached behind and undid the zipper holding the skirt tight to her waist. Fletcher let go, and the skirt fell harmlessly to the floor. She looked down at herself and giggled, "Oh my, my panties are wet. It's so embarrassing."

Fletcher's eyes drifted back down to the wet patch marked by a darkened stain on the sheer fabric of her see thru panties.

Sandy licked her lips and then took a step back before bending at her waist until she was at Fletcher's eye level again.

"I also couldn't help noticing how you kept trying to steal glances down my blouse," she remarked.

Fletcher's eyes darted back and forth between her eyes and her cleavage. Her blouse was loose and hung down far enough that he could see all the way down. Then Sandy undid an extra button on her blouse, and her top hung that much more loosely.

Sandy peered down at her cleavage, pleased with how the push up bra made her look at least a full cup size larger. She only hoped Fletcher wouldn't be disappointed later on if she took off her bra.

She was pleased with Fletcher's response, with his lustily hungry gaze, his eyes feasting on the sight of her breasts. She was breathless, but the power she wielded in that moment was intoxicating. She was a lioness. A cougar on the prowl. And Fletcher was her prey.

Sandy stood back up straight and proceeded to undo the remaining buttons on her blouse. After the last button came undone, she let the blouse slide off her shoulders. She stepped out of her skirt, and then she was left standing before her young pupil scantily clad in only her bra, panties, stockings, and high heeled shoes.

Fletcher sat back and admired the view of her naked body, her nipples clearly visible and the folds of her pussy on full display.

For the first time since she walked in his house, Sandy felt nervous and vulnerable, worried that she might not live up to Fletcher's fantasies, that her 37-year-old body was somehow disappointing.

"You look like a dream," Fletcher muttered under his breath. "You're too good to be true."

His compliment restored her confidence, and Sandy's playful demeanor returned.

"I'm still waiting to get rewarded for my tutoring services," she said as she squinted her eyes at him.

"How - how do I repay you?" Fletcher stuttered.

"How much money do you have?" she teased him.

"None," he answered truthfully.

"Well, then I guess you're just going to have to eat my pussy. On your knees, boy," she ordered.

Fletcher didn't need to be told twice, and he slid off the chair to his knees on the floor. She looked down at her young lover kneeling before her, and her pussy throbbed, her labia and clit engorged with blood.

"Pull down my panties," she said, barely able to control her breathing and keep calm.

Fletcher pulled them down while Sandy pulled over a chair. She sat down on the edge of the seat and leaned back. Her panties were still hanging off her right ankle as she lifted her legs into the air and made a show of spreading herself wide before her kneeling pupil.

"Do you like what you see?" she asked.

Fletcher nodded his head vigorously while Sandy wet a finger in her mouth and slipped it inside her pussy. Her feet came back down and rested on the seat where Fletcher was sitting earlier, her legs trapping him between the two chairs.

"I hope you like the taste of pussy because you're about to eat a lot of it," she playfully remarked as she pulled her finger out. "Now get to work," she smiled seductively.

Fletcher didn't waste any time. He practically dove in headfirst, eager but clumsy.

Sandy grabbed him by the ear and lifted his head. "Gentle," she scolded him. "Be patient and loving with my pussy. A little extra care and tenderness will go a long way to get my kitty purring. And then the next thing you know, you've unleashed a beast, and that little pussy cat is transformed into a tiger on the prowl that won't stop until it's satisfied."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's... it's my first time. But I'll do anything you want."

"I know you will," she reassured him. "It's my first time in years and years, also, but I promise you won't regret it."

Fletcher leaned his head forward again, but he paused and inhaled deeply, the heady aroma of her arousal filling his senses.

Sandy was almost embarrassed, fearful that he might be turned off by her scent, but then his face broke into a wide grin, and her fears were calmed. She reached down and spread her labia, her pink flesh revealed like a hidden jewel behind a veil.

"I'm waiting," she implored him.

Fletcher licked his lips and then leaned forward and tasted her nectar, her juices secreting out and dripping on his tongue. The taste was strange and different than he expected. Not sweet, perhaps a little bitter, but Sandy's body shivered in response to his tongue, and he was hooked.

He lovingly licked and flicked at her sex with his tongue, and her body relaxed. He was surrounded by her, with Sandy's pussy in his face and her stockinged clad legs on either side of him as he knelt down before her as if he was serving his queen.

The more he licked, the more he was rewarded with her juices as he eagerly lapped it up, like a faithful dog drinking from a bowl. Her legs squeezed a little tighter around his head as she began to grind herself against him, her pussy practically begging him to please her.

His hands cupped her hands as she held her labia spread open while her breathing became heavy. A soft moan slipped past her lips, and it only encouraged him to eat her out even more fervently.

His fingers pinched her labia, and Sandy gasped at the new stimulation. She raised up her hands and began fondling her own breasts, pinching her nipples through the thin sheer fabric of her bra cups.

Then Fletcher began exploring her sex. He gently sucked on her labia and then flicked at it with his tongue, and she let out another moan. He saw her clitoris, and he gave that some attention as well, kissing it and licking it tenderly. He saw the fold in her pussy, and he couldn't resist pressing a finger against it, and Sandy gasped loudly. She sat up and looked down at him, her eyes pleading.

His finger pressed forth against her soaked mound and slipped through her folds, passing into her most intimate territory, and Sandy watched her young pupil insert his digit its full length into her body.

His finger explored around inside as her juices flowed even more freely, the blood rushing to her sex, and her arousal shooting off the charts.

"Oh God," she sighed, her body obviously reacting when he hit a certain spot. Fletcher took notice, and he ran his finger back over the same territory, and she reacted the same way again.

As he began rubbing that magical spot, Sandy leaned back again, arching her back in the process as she stifled a scream.

"Jackpot," Fletcher realized, and he began rubbing that spot for all it was worth, and Sandy quickly became a wet horny mess. Fletcher resumed licking her clit while his finger played with her G spot, sending her arousal into overdrive.

Sandy's hands reached back down and played with his hair, pulling his head in tighter against her sex.

"Oh God, what have you done to me?" she muttered.

"Just repaying you for all you've done for me," he replied deftly between licks.

His tongue affectionately licked at her clit, patiently working it like the ocean wearing down rocks on the seashore, slowly, steadily, but relentlessly.

His finger persistently worked her G spot, coaxing it along, cajoling it to reveal its secrets.

Her juices dripped out of her pussy and down his hand, dripping off his wrist to the floor, where it pooled up on the kitchen linoleum tile.

Sandy squeezed her thighs even tighter around his head. She was close, his efforts soon to be rewarded. Sandy closed her eyes and let herself sink into her arousal, immersing herself in an ocean of pleasure.

A calmness, a peace settled over her, even as her body grew sweatier, her muscles tightened, and her breath grew heavier. Her moans became longer and deeper, her fingers dug into Fletcher's scalp, and her clit was so engorged, it felt like bullseye as wide as home plate, and Fletcher was pitching strike after strike after strike with his tongue.

His finger was dialed in, tapping and rubbing her G spot for all it was worth, pushing her closer and closer, eroding her defenses, her walls crumbling as her body surrendered.

And then Sandy arched her back even farther. Her breasts pushed out, and she let out a primal scream as the energy surged forth in an onrush of euphoric pleasure. The orgasm shot through her body, more intense, more forceful than she'd ever experienced before in her life. She felt it in her soul, in the fiber of her very being.

She screamed out louder and louder, "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," urging her young lover to keep going, to push her through her climax, to extract every last ounce of pleasure from her body, and he obliged, his tongue faithfully loving on her clit while his finger rubbed against her G spot as she raised her legs in the air and spread them as widely as possible as she slid down even further on the chair.

Sandy opened her eyes and looked at her young lover. They shared a glance, and she gave him a nod of approval. As he pulled his face back, his mouth was covered in her juices, and his white teeth gleamed as he smiled, knowing how he'd brought her to an earth-shattering orgasm.

Sandy's pussy was still throbbing, a tender soaked mound of sexually charged energy.

"Fuck me," she spat out.

Fletcher looked at her quizzically, shocked to hear such vulgar words from his tutor's pretty little mouth.

"Pull down your pants, whip out your cock, and fuck me," she spelled it out plain as day for him.

Fletcher didn't waste any time, and he sprang into action. Within seconds, his shorts and underwear were kicked to the side.

Sandy was relieved to see his little cock was rock hard. He didn't have the biggest dick, but she didn't care. He was big enough.

"Put it in me. Fucking hurry," she panted as she spread her legs wider again, her bald pussy fully open while she stared at him, her eyes desperate and pleading.

"I don't have protection," Fletcher worried.

"I don't fucking care," she scolded him.

His cock pulsed, and he lined himself up with her hole. He carefully placed the tip of his cock at her opening, his mannerism unsure and awkward, and Sandy was reminded all over again how he was still a virgin.

Impatient, she slid her ass forward completely off the seat, and her pussy swallowed his cock whole in one swift motion.

Sandy's eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head as the feeling of a man filling her love canal for the first time in years and years overwhelmed her senses.

Fletcher gasped as his cock was suddenly enveloped with a wet oozing warmth, her pussy wrapping around him like a cocoon, so protective, letting him enter into her secret world.

She looked at him breathlessly as she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Now fuck me," she begged him.

Fletcher nodded his head, and he began slowly thrusting in and out, his pecker coated in her juices as he slid it in and out of her body.

Frustrated at his hesitancy and timidity, Sandy sat back up in the chair and let his cock slide out of her. Then she stood up and pushed him down on the ground. He fell backwards, and she jumped on top of him, positioning herself right above him as she straddled his body.

Moving quickly, she grabbed his rock hard cock with her hand and inserted him in her pussy as she sat down on top of him, sighing in deep satisfaction as her pussy filled with his meat.

Fletcher was shocked by her sudden movement. His face was initially frightened, scared that he had messed everything up, but relief washed over him as she took his cock back in her body.

"Now when you've got a horny woman, you don't make her wait. When she says she wants to be fucked, then you fuck her good and hard," she instructed him as she began vigorously riding him like a bronco, bouncing on his body so hard, he almost feared she might snap his dick clean off.

Sandy shook her chest as she rode him, and suddenly the bra felt restrictive. She wanted to be completely free, and she reached behind, undid the hook, and threw the undergarment aside. With her breasts now freed, she shook her chest, letting her little titties swing in the air.

Down below, Fletcher was completely mesmerized by the erotic sight of the mature woman completely lost in lust. He had been on a high the entire day, anticipating that he'd finally lose his virginity. His lust for her had grown with each tutoring session to the point now that thoughts of Sandy consumed his every waking moment.

She wasn't like the women he watched in porn videos. Her ass was too flat, and her breasts were too small. She lacked curves, and her face was otherwise unremarkable. Yet, the closer he grew to her, the more he was attracted to her.

What at first appeared to be a plain face belied a doggedly determined persona, a woman who knew what she wanted. She possessed a quiet strength masked by her diminutive stature and slight build. But it propelled her to finish college and raise a child as a single mother, buying a house and making a career all on her own.

They were both outcasts in the world, He identified with her, in the hurt and emotional abandonment from those that should have been their greatest strength, his own mother and her own son. Fletcher had been beaten down by his mother over the years, his confidence shattered to the point that he felt worthless. But she believed in him when no one else did, not even his own mother.

Fletcher always resented how his mother made him feel like a failure, which only compounded the incessant teasing and bullying he endured at school. But Sandy could relate to his frustrations, and more importantly, she believed in him, which instilled him with validation that kindness and respect really did exist in the world, that he didn't have to become bitter and deceitful like his mother.

And now Sandy was riding him wildly, her tits flailing about and her hair flying around as she bounced on his cock. She was a beautiful sight to behold with her eyes closed and lost in a world of lust, completely freed from her life's shortcoming and finally indulging herself to satisfy her own needs first.

Fletcher couldn't resist the temptation, and he reached up to fondle her titties, letting them bounce in his hands as she wildly shook her chest.

Then Sandy opened her eyes and saw him lying underneath. She smiled and got a sparkle in her eye. Then she impulsively threw herself down on top of him, her lips pressing against his as they kissed.

Her breasts pressed against his chest, all while she kept bucking her hips, sliding up and down on his pole.

The kiss broke, and Fletcher was in shock, still a novice and unsure how even to make love to a woman.

She saw his gawkiness and whispered, "Don't overthink it," she giggled. "Sex is supposed to be fun. Are you having fun?"

Fletcher just nodded his head, his tongue tied.

"Good. So am I," she grinned.

And then she resumed making out with him.

"I can't believe how long you're lasting," she remarked, thinking how he ejaculated prematurely while giving him a blow job just yesterday.

"I may have been so excited thinking about tonight that I blew my load earlier this afternoon," he confessed.

"That's a pity. I was hoping you'd have a full load to empty inside me," she said as she leaned down again and whispered in his ear. "I guess I'll just have to settle for a partial deposit. I'll take the rest on IOU."

Her breasts pressed against his skin, her nipples rubbing against him and dragging up and down his chest while she rode his cock.

They started making out again, but their kisses grew longer, more smoldering. Now she was making love to him. His cock felt so good inside her. She didn't realize how much she missed the feel of a good hard cock in her pussy, but she relished every sensation as it passed through her lips and then penetrated deep into body when she implanted his full length inside her again.

Her legs rubbed against his as she straddled his body. She ran her fingers through his hair and studied his face. The way his eyes darted all over, taking in every inch of her body. She looked down and saw his pole sliding back and forth in and out of her pussy. His cock was glistening in her juices, his pubes soaked in her arousal. Then she looked back up to his face and smiled.

"This feels good. This feels right," she winked at him.

She hadn't necessarily planned to play the role of the seductress, but in Fletcher's virgin eyes, she was his sex teacher. And she relished playing the role of the sexually experienced cougar teaching Fletcher how to make love to a woman, although it was almost comical to her since she was so decidedly sexually inexperienced. She had only slept with Brad's father before tonight, and he had always been domineering in all their sexual encounters.

Her mind flashed back to the beginning of her relationship with Brad's father. He was almost the same age back then as Fletcher was now. She recalled the excitement and rush she felt. The awkward kissing and making out. The fumbling around as he struggled to undo her bra. Her surprise the first time she fished her hands down his pants and the strange sensation feeling a thick slab of manhood pulsing in her hand. And then the hardness of his blood engorged meat as he penetrated her body, and how she bled out when he popped her cherry.

Followed by the exhilaration she experienced when he made her climax the first time, although then she remembered the disappointment that followed shortly after as she realized that sex with him was only ever about him. Even when he made her cum, her needs and desires were always secondary to his. She was always secondary to him.

But now with Fletcher, she felt a kinship, a closeness she'd never felt before with anyone else. She wanted to please him, but even more importantly, he wanted to please her just as much. He was clumsy and awkward, but eager and willing, and his naivete was wholesome and endearing.

Sandy had no idea where their relationship would lead, but she was content just to live in the moment. He made her feel young again for the first time in years, if not decades.

"Tell me you want me," she whispered in his ear.

"I want you," he mumbled back, his breath short and labored.

"I'm yours. I belong to you," she said as she leaned down to kiss him again.

They began making out again. His cock throbbed inside of her. Her legs straddled his body, and her chest was pressed tightly against him. Her arms wrapped around him, holding onto him so tightly wanting as much of her skin to rub against his, to feel as much of her body against his as possible.

Fletcher's hands ran down her back, tracing along the curve of her spine as she propelled herself back and forth along his pole. Her skin was glistening with sweat, and it beaded up on her pale skin.

She was working hard, her hair becoming wet and stringy, the sweat dripping off her hair and onto his face. They shared a laugh, just enjoying the moment, just enjoying each other.

And then Sandy closed her eyes. She leaned her head on his shoulders and wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck, pulling her body in even closer contact to his.

"Do you want to come inside me?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible.

"Are you sure?" he asked almost in disbelief.

"I'm off my cycle. It's safe. I won't get pregnant," she assured him.

"You're unreal," he replied.

Sandy was so wet by this point, her pussy was a tinderbox soaked in her juices, and Fletcher's cock was the matchstick that threatened to ignite the explosion.

It was wet sloppy sex. Her pussy wrapped around his manhood as she easily slid back and forth over him, taking him in her body. He throbbed inside her, and she knew he couldn't hold it in much longer. But neither could she.

She buried her face in his neck and inhaled his scent, letting her lips lightly kiss his shoulders as her body rubbed up and down his body. Her legs were getting sore from pushing and pulling herself back and forth, but she fought through the pain. She was out of shape, but she was running on adrenaline, seeking to repudiate every putdown her ex and even her own son lobbed at her over the years that left her feeling ugly and undesirable. Or all the men at work or the men she passed by on the street who never even paid her a second glance. She was exorcising her demons.

Fuck them. Fuck them all. There were men out there who appreciated her. Or at least there was Fletcher. And in the here and now, that was enough.

She gripped him tighter as her body started shaking. She started wailing out in long deep moans that quickly turned into impassioned cries as her body convulsed uncontrollably. Her muscles tightened up, and her fingers gripped into his skin.

Fletcher thought at first she was in pain, and he wondered if he should console her, but then he realized she was consumed by her climax. Though he wasn't large, she was still smaller than him, but she had effectively pinned him down with a surprising strength as she continued making love to him, riding his cock, and driving him to the edge of ejaculation as she whimpered in pleasure.

"I love you," he realized, and her eyes opened. She raised her head and leaned in to passionately kiss him, their lips and tongues melting into one as his cock quietly fired off inside her, sending shot after shot of his teenaged cum into her body, filling her vagina as he emptied his balls into her.

She kept riding him, seemingly pumping his cock and taking in every last ounce of cum that dripped out until he was completely drained and began to soften, at which point, her legs finally gave out, both from soreness and exhaustion, and her body went limp on top of his.

They were a hot sweaty mess lying on the cheap linoleum tile in Fletcher's kitchen. Even though he admitted jerking off earlier, her pussy was filled to the brim, and his cum began leaking out of her.

They laid like that for a long time. Sandy felt a peace and satisfaction she'd never known before. For just one moment, everything seemed right in the world, and she wanted for nothing more.

"So that's what sex is like," Fletcher muttered, dumbfounded.

Sandy raised her weary head and gave him a weak smile. "That's what making love is like," she corrected him.

"I could get used to that," he decided.

"Me too," she agreed.

*****

To be continued.