Mom at the Roxy

And so I paid the $20 fee and ran the ad. I anxiously checked my mailbox at the apartment complex mail center every day for the next two weeks until I got my first bundle of forwarded responses. I grabbed them out of the mailbox and ran, tripping and eager, to my apartment.

My heart was pounding with a nervous thrill when I tossed the pile on the kitchen table. There were about 20 letters, which was a response beyond my wildest dreams. I imagined letters and photographs from beautiful, hot women eager to have sex with us. With trembling hands, I opened the first letter in the pile.

It contained a grainy black and white photo of...a 60-year-old guy with a hardon. I squinted at the accompanying letter in an effort to make out the virtually illegible handwriting. A single guy wrote it as far as I could tell - there was no mention of a wife or girlfriend.

Disappointed, I tossed the letter on the floor and plucked the next letter from the pile. There was no photo. I sighed with frustration, and opened the next letter. Well, this one had a photo at least. Finally, a single woman, but she appeared to be 50 years old and was obese.

I sighed and spent the next half-hour going through the remaining responses. There were one or two of mild interest, meaning they were at least youngish single women. But each of them sounded slightly creepy in the letter. All of the other nineteen letters were worthless. I sat back in my chair, frustrated nearly to tears. I decided to call my Mom for sympathy, staring ruefully at the discarded pile of letters as I dialed.

"I'm sorry sweetie," she said, after I explained what had happened. "I guess this isn't working out like you hoped."

"No, not at all." I sighed. "I guess you were right about not getting my hopes up too high."

"I think so, Troy. And I don't want to rub it in - you feel bad enough. But I think running your ad in a swinger magazine would have worked better."

"I know," I agreed.

"But still, it should have turned out better. Read your ad to me."

I grabbed my copy of the Observer, flipped to the personal ads, and recited my letter to her over the phone.

"Well, one problem right off the bat - you didn't say what age you were looking for. Plus, you didn't say where you're from."

I thumped my head in understanding. "Geez, you're right. I can be a dumbass sometimes."

"Now come on Troy. You're not a dumbass. And you'll get more letters. Maybe they'll turn out better." She paused. "Tell you what. Next time you get responses, give me a call. We can go through them together."

"Yeah, okay." I said goodbye and hung up the phone. I scooped the discard pile off the floor and angrily threw it in the garbage. I saved only the two "potentials", but I doubted that we'd be interested. I knew Angie wouldn't, at least. I clung to my Mom's hope that things would improve.

But the following week, the news wasn't a whole lot better. Mom and I were seated at opposite sides of my kitchen table, each of us with a short stack of seven or eight responses in front of us. We each went through our pile, one by one. I found one promising letter from a 25-year-old bi girl, about an hour's drive away. She seemed to be reasonably normal. Unfortunately, she was a bit overweight and rather plain-looking.

This was getting discouraging. I stared bitterly at the stack of discards.

"What about this one?"

I looked up, and saw my Mother holding a letter and photo out to me. I took them from her, and scanned the photo, which was of higher quality than almost any other I had received. It looked like it had been shot in a modeling studio.

The woman was far more attractive than any others that I had looked at. In fact, she was downright pretty. She wasn't nude in her photo, but she wore a very skimpy pair of lace panties and matching bra, and had a great body. Her dark brown hair was pinned up. She wore rather too much makeup, more than I care for at least, but overall, she was almost exotic looking.

I glanced up at my Mother and grinned. "Hmm, so far, so good."

I began reading the letter, which ran nearly three pages long. It was a chatty letter and intelligently written. The woman went into substantial detail about herself. Her name was Janice, and she was "30-something". She said that she was originally from Georgia, now lived in Southern California, and that she loved the free and open lifestyle here. She described herself as a "normal" woman with a healthy sexual appetite. She closed by saying that she hoped that we'd like her letter and photo, included her telephone number, and was interested in talking on the phone, and then hopefully meeting.

My Mom was watching my reaction. "Well, what do you think?" she asked.

I smiled broadly. "Pretty awesome. And I don't see how Angie wouldn't like her. Maybe a little older than we had in mind, but I don't think that would be a problem."

Mom stared at me intently. She licked her lips and swallowed. "Troy...?" she began. "Do you love Angie?"

"Do I love her?" I was confused by the question. "Well, no, not really. I mean, we like each other a lot, but it's not love. I don't know if I see this as a long-term relationship, if that's what you're driving at." I put down the letter and leaned back in my seat. "Why do you ask?"

Well, I just think you should be honest with those you love. Because there's something about this letter...

_________

I sat alone in the booth, watching the band set up in the far corner of the nightclub on the ground floor of the Pacific Inn. I was fidgeting in my seat, waiting for Angie to come down from our room. She had insisted on some last minute primping. I couldn't wait, so I came down early to have a shot of bourbon on the rocks to try to calm my nerves.

The big night had finally arrived - the night I would get to watch Angie have sex with another woman. I nervously traced the cold condensation trails on my glass as I reflected on how we had arrived at this point. My butterflies weren't only due to anticipation about what was to come. No, I was also still fretting about my having deceived her. She had loved the photo and letter from Janice, and the brief telephone conversation went very well. Angie was definitely agreeable to meeting her tonight. The problem was, it was much more complicated than that.

I was about to order a second drink when Angie arrived. She looked gorgeous. At my request, she was wearing the same short black skirt and tubetop that she wore that night four months before when she first told me about having sex with another woman. There weren't many men in the nightclub yet, but every one of them ogled Angie as she strode confidently toward my booth. Her slim tan legs, skirt barely covering her, nipples slightly protruding - she looked spectacular. She flashed a shy little smile and slid into the booth next to me.

We ordered a second round of drinks and sat in nervous anticipation for Janice to arrive. We said little. I think I was too tense, and Angie appeared to be much the same - she fidgeted in her seat and tapped on the table, frequently glancing toward the front door of the lounge.

I nodded toward Angie's margarita. "Is that helping?"

"Helping?"

"Yeah. Helping you lose your inhibitions."

She giggled. "I think so. I hope so." She downed the rest of her drink. "Anyway, I'm so horny that I don't think my inhibitions will be a problem."

"Hmmm. I like the sound of that!"

Finally, Angie nudged me and nodded toward the entrance. There was Janice at last, standing just inside the front door of the nightclub, and allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. She spotted us waving toward her after a few moments, and immediately made her way to our table with proud grace.

She looked just like she did in the photo. She was stunning, and seemed much younger than her age. Her dark brown hair was piled on top of her head in loose curls. Her dark mascara and long eyelashes made her appear to be Hispanic, although I knew that she wasn't. She was wearing a short, light blue and white-striped dress, low-cut and sexy. About three inches of cleavage were exposed - the remainder of her full breasts jiggled erotically under the dress as she walked toward the table.

She discreetly winked at me as I stood to greet her. "Hi, I'm Troy. You must be Janice?"

"Yes, nice to meet you Troy, and please, call me Jan." She turned to Angie. "And you must be Angie." The two of them hugged briefly by way of greeting.

Jan slid into the booth next to Angie, and we ordered a drink for her. The three of us chatted about basically nothing for about ten minutes, slowly getting to know each other. She was as friendly as she seemed in her letter and on the telephone, and I could tell that Angie was very relieved.

Angie excused herself to go to the lady's room. Jan watched her swaying hips as she walked away, then turned to me.

"Whew," she exhaled softly. "So far so good, I think. But I'm a nervous wreck."

I reached out and patted her warm thigh. "Don't sweat it Mom. It's going great! Angie suspects nothing - heck, even I can barely recognize you. We did a great job with the hair, makeup, everything. And that accent..." I shook my head and chuckled. "It sounds like you lived in Georgia your entire life."

But Mom was still nervous.

"I know, but..." she bit her lip nervously. "I'm just so worried that she knows. I keep thinking I see this little look of recognition, like she's trying to place where she's seen me before."

"Relax, okay? She doesn't recognize you, and she won't. We talked about this - the only time she's ever seen you, it was so dark that she probably can't really even remember what you look like. Plus, that was three months ago. That, and the makeup...there's no way. Just enjoy yourself. I am."

"Alright - I'll do my best."

I patted her arm reassuringly. "Okay, here she comes."

As the drinks flowed, we gradually became more comfortable in each other's company. We were all nervous, for very different reasons, but our inhibitions gradually washed away with the alcohol.

I was almost feeling left out of the conversation as they chatted away. The band had begun playing at the far end of the bar, and I couldn't hear much of the conversation anyway. I began to make a hobby of watching their body language. It was subtle at first, but it was evident to me that they were developing a rapport with one other. As women friends often do, they touched each other frequently as they spoke.

I was relieved. It would have been very disappointing, after all the planning that we had put into this evening, to find out that Angie didn't like "Jan". She had liked the response to the ad we had placed, the photograph that "Jan" had "sent", and the telephone conversation. But I didn't know how things would work out when they actually met in person.

The music seemed to get louder, and the nightclub was beginning to fill up with noisy patrons. Young partiers shimmied frenetically on the dance floor to the throbbing beat. I was having more and more difficulty keeping up with the conversation, so I entertained myself by doing some people watching. Mostly, though, I watched the subtle signals between Angie and my Mom. Yup, a lot of little touches, sprinkled with lots of laughter. They were leaning in very close to one another. A couple of times I saw my Mom discreetly looking down into Angie's lap, admiring her legs. I've got to admit, the view was nice from my angle too. What with her short skirt, and those tanned, slim legs...well, they looked great to me too. This was going well.

I wasn't being completely ignored though. My Mother occasionally looked toward me with her big, brown eyes and flashed a discreet, knowing smile at me, as if to say, "Well, it looks like we're actually gonna pull this off." A couple of times, they both looked at me and giggled like schoolgirls, as if exchanging some private joke. That made me a little self-conscious, I must admit.

After about half an hour, my Mom excused herself to go to the lady's room, and Angie turned her attention to me. She squeezed my arm playfully and smiled.

I motioned the waiter to bring another round of drinks, then I leaned toward Angie to make myself heard over the music.

"Well, how's it going?" I asked.

She smiled widely. "Great! It seems very comfortable. I almost feel like I've known her for a long time. She seems very familiar."

Oh-oh. This was not good. I struggled to figure out a way to divert her thoughts, but there was no need, as she continued on. "Plus, she's damned sexy." Her look turned sultry.

I arched an eyebrow. "That sounds encouraging. So, do you think it's going to work out then?"

She nodded. "Definitely."

"So what were you two talking about? I couldn't hear a thing with this music."

"Oh, just girl-talk."

"Oh, and another thing," I said with a stern look on my face. "Why were you looking at me so much?"

She looked at me innocently. "We were not!"

I poked her playfully in the ribs. "Were too. I saw you."

She stroked her hair, twirling it into a little curl with her finger. "Well, if you must know, she asked what you were like in bed."

My eyes widened, and I felt my cock stirring in my pants. "Oh man. And you told her what?"

She giggled. "I said you were pretty damn good of course."

I winked at her. "Thatta girl."

She looked at me evilly. "We also played a little footsie under the table. She's been rubbing her leg against mine for the last ten minutes."

"Hey, hey, I like the sound of that," I replied. I placed my hand on her warm inner thigh, just below the hemline of her skirt.

Angie looked at me slyly. "If you go a little higher, you'll get a surprise."

"A surprise? And what would that be?"

She nodded toward my hand and smirked. "You'll see."

I quickly glanced around the room to make sure no one was looking. The band was just completing their set, and the dance floor was emptying, but no one was headed our way. The young couple at the next table seemed to be focused on each other. No one was paying attention to us, so I inched my hand up her inner thigh. I dove under her skirt, and felt the warmth increasing. Only a couple of inches to go...and then I felt soft hair.

My eyes widened. "Why you dirty girl!" I said with mock gravity. "And where did your panties go, young lady?"

"Took 'em off in the ladies room."

I began brushing my fingers through her pubic hair, hidden by the tablecloth.

"Ooh," she cooed, and spread her legs slightly.

"I like it," I said.

She chuckled. "You're not the only one. Jan was impressed too."

"You mean, you told her?" I asked with mock horror.

"No, actually she saw under my skirt," she replied. "I made sure of it. In fact, that's one of the reasons she went to the lady's room. She said she wanted to take hers off too."

My cock grew another inch, and was now bent painfully inside my pants. I began to gently stroke through the folds of her pussy lips. They were slick with her juices. With a sharp intake of breath, Angie closed her eyes. I felt her leg tremble against my forearm.

"Well, looks like you two are having fun. But you're starting without me!"

Angie and I looked up to see my Mom standing next to the table with a little-girl pout on her lips. We were so intent on each other that we hadn't noticed her return.

I extricated my hand from under Angie's skirt and chuckled. "Sorry, just killing time, waiting for you to get back."

My Mom smiled, flashing her straight white teeth, and eased into the booth. As she did so, her dress slid up her thigh, and I (and Angie, I could see out of the corner of my eye) watched in anticipation. As she slid along the seat toward Angie, her knees parted (probably wider than they needed to) and I could clearly see her exposed, naked pussy, highlighted in the soft glow of our table lamp.

I was going to be discreet about the quick flash, but to my surprise Angie commented on what she had seen. She touched my Mom on the forearm, and said in a low, sexy voice "Ooh, looks like you decided to get more comfortable."

Mom gave a shy little smile, and actually flushed a little bit - I didn't think she was capable of being self-conscious. But I think she was surprised a bit by Angie's lack of inhibitions. I know I was.

My surprise turned to mild astonishment when Angie actually reached down and caressed my Mom's leg with her soft hand. Yup, the alcohol was definitely having an effect on her.

I watched, entranced, as her fingers softly danced from my Mom's right knee, up her thigh, and then pushed the hem of her dress upward. Slowly and teasingly, Mom spread her legs, clearly exposing her shaved, dark pussy hair to our delighted view.

I cleared my throat. "Um, ladies," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "Maybe we should head upstairs to our room now."

They looked into each other's eyes and nodded their agreement. I quickly, almost urgently, caught the waiter's eye and took take care of the tab. My hands were shaking with anticipation as I signed the bill.

We were in the room within five minutes. As I locked the door and removed my shoes, Angie grabbed my Mother by the hand and pulled her to one of the two king-size beds. My Mom ripped the bedspread off, then they sat together on the edge of the bed.

They smiled shyly and looked at each other with smoldering eyes, as I lay in the other bed. Their beautiful faces were nearly touching, their hands lightly caressing each other's hair. My Mom rested her hand on Angie's curvaceous hip.

Slowly, seductively, my Mother drew her face toward Angie, and their lips touched, ever so gently. Again, they kissed, this time with more passion, as Angie clutched at my Mother's head, drawing her tightly toward her.

I watched, enchanted, as their lips parted and their wet tongues darted out to taste each other. Both of them, especially Angie, were softly moaning with desire. The french-kissing increased in intensity, as they stroked each other's bodies through their clothing, tenderly at first, then with more urgency.

Angie unbuttoned my Mother's dress, and pulled it down to expose her bared shoulders. She tentatively reached toward her breasts, covered in a frilly bra. Her searching hands traced the lines of the bra for a moment, then began to massage them.

My Mom reached behind herself to unclasp the bra, and pulled the undergarment from her. The tanned, pear-shaped tits and long erect nipples, which I knew so well, were exposed to Angie's gaze for the first time. She timidly pinched one of the nipples lightly, then leaned down to tenderly lick it with her wet tongue.

I watched the awesome scene from my vantagepoint on the other bed. This was the most erotic thing I had seen in my life, and my cock throbbed with lust. I unzipped my pants to adjust it from its uncomfortable position.

"Oh Angie, that feels good," my Mom sighed, and she pulled Angie's face tightly to her breast. For several minutes, Angie contentedly suckled at first one, then the other. The erotic slurping and sucking sounds filled the hotel room. As she suckled, and without removing her mouth from my Mom's soft tit, Angie removed her own blouse and exposed her naked torso. She was bra-less underneath, and I delightedly compared her smaller, taut breasts with my Mother's larger, more mature tits. My Mother obviously enjoyed the sight also, for she began to gently stroke Angie's small brown nipples.

After several minutes, Mom gently pushed Angie away, and down onto the mattress. Angie swung her legs up onto the bed, and lay there on her back. She was still wearing her mini-skirt, but it was now bunched up around her hips. I could see her blond pubic hair peeking out between her slim legs. She looked over at me and smiled, then together we watched as my Mother slipped her dress down over her flared hips, and down her legs. She stepped out of the dress, and stood proudly next to the bed to let Angie admire her mature body.

My Mom got onto the bed and coaxed Angie's legs apart. She gazed with lust and admiration at Angie's pretty pussy, pink and shiny from her juices. She crawled on hands and knees between them, and leaned forward to lightly suck at one of Angie's small, brown nipples. She alternated from one to the other, while Angie moaned softly with pleasure.

She left the breasts and began to lick slowly down to Angie's navel, then back again, trailing a line of shiny saliva on the tanned, taut stomach. Angie sighed, and I could see her tremble with the sensation. As my Mom licked up and down, I could see one of her swaying breasts brush over Angie's crotch. The long erect nipple stimulated her clitoris.

Gradually, my Mom worked her tongue lower, skipping past Angie's navel, past the pubic mound, toward her slim, muscular thigh. She licked the top and inside of Angie's thigh, approaching, but not quite reaching, her horny cunt.

Angie's eyes were fluttering, her mouth open and panting, as my Mom teased her. Her tongue was tireless. Angie thrust her pelvis toward my Mom's mouth in a futile attempt to make contact between her pussy and the wonderful tongue.

Finally, Angie could take it no longer. "Oh God, Jan, I need to get off. I need you to lick me."

My Mother smiled evilly, and I watched as she extended her tongue and touched the tip to Angie's wet pussy lips. She slowly licked upward, ending the stroke with a circular motion around Angie's erect clitoris.

"Ohhh, yes, fuck! Suck me Jan," cried Angie in a quavering voice. She grabbed her legs and pulled the knees back to her chest, thereby splaying her cunt wide open for my Mother's searching tongue.

Mom repeated the licking motion. This time, though, she started the long stroke at Angie's tight, puckered asshole.

My cock ached inside my pants. I quickly stripped my clothes off, and then lay back down on the bed to watch the incredible action. I took my hard prick in my hand and stroked it while I watched.

Angie's moans became more urgent, and my Mother sensed that Angie was approaching her orgasm. She focused her attention on her pink clit, and began licking it in a rapid, fluttering motion.

"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes..." murmured Angie over and over, imploring my Mother to continue. Her legs began to tremble.

Faster and louder she moaned. "Oh yes, oh yes oh yes, OH YES, OH YES...."

Then, with a final loud gasp of pleasure, Angie's entire body became rigid. With a soft scream, she began bucking her hips up and down, fucking my Mother's tongue with her burning pussy. My Mom continued her furious licking on the distended clitoris, as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over Angie's writhing body.

Angie's chest was heaving, and her breathing was harsh and ragged. She was covered with a fine sheen of perspiration. Her face was flushed with the glow of her orgasm, the first she had ever experienced at the hands of another woman.

My Mother crawled up and lay next to her. She softly caressed Angie's body, and kissed her lightly on the cheek, helping to bring her down from the throes of her orgasm.

Angie's heavy breathing soon subsided, and she gave a contented sigh. She looked into my Mother's eyes with a smoldering passion, and taking my Mom's face in her hands, kissed her deeply on the mouth.

"Thank you," she whispered. "That was incredible."

My Mom smiled in response. "You're welcome," she said softly.

"I want to do the same to you."

"You'll get a chance," my Mom replied. She nodded over to me. "But I think maybe Troy would like some attention."

Angie turned from my Mother and looked toward me. She chuckled at the sight of my fist wrapped around my throbbing prick.

"Poor baby," she cooed. "Jan, I think you're right. If he doesn't get relief soon he'll explode."

Mom and Angie hopped off the bed, skipped over to mine, and jumped on.

"Okay Troy. Your turn. Get on your back and we'll take care of you," said my Mom. I saw her whisper something in Angie's ear.

I eagerly complied. I lay flat on my back, my hard cock pointing toward the ceiling. Angie and my Mom got on their hands and knees next to my spread legs, and together drew their lovely faces toward my hard prick.

I closed my eyes in anticipation. Every man's dream, and it was about to come true! Two beautiful women about to service my prick.

I gave a little yelp when I felt one of their tongues touch the head of my prick. The other soft tongue soon followed, and together, they licked up and down my hard shaft, coating it with their warm saliva. Their mouths were seemingly everywhere at once.