You Couldn't Handle Me Ch. 01

I guess I was one of the lucky ones to see her in a bit of a non-professional way. In her friendship with my mom, I got to see her dressed in a way to flatter her body. Gone were the dress pants, professional tops, pony-tails and understated make-up. Instead, I saw Ms. Graham in skirts, exposing her bare legs and clinging to her round, ripe ass. I saw her wearing sexy leather boots and figure-hugging tops, showing off a view of her juicy cleavage. I could even see a hint of her hard nipples through her tops.

Her and my mom, two gorgeous, hard-nippled women, eager for a night on the town.

I had known her for years, but it wasn't till a few years ago that I saw her dressed like this, her demeanor less chilly and more warm. It was then that I truly saw Ms. Graham as a sexual being. I realized that this woman I had known for years was in fact a sexy, well, an extremely sexy woman. She had very large breasts, not quite matching up to Mom's pair, but that was nothing to be ashamed of. If I had to guess, I would say she was sporting a pair of DD's, on the larger side of DD's I think. Living with my mom had made me pretty good at knowing breast sizes. Ms. Graham also had an exquisite ass, round and firm. I had seen her and my mom dressed to go jogging or to the gym, so judging by her ass, Ms. Graham was clearly a workout fiend.

I had never thought of Ms. Graham as anything beyond my mom's friend, but it wasn't until I saw this that I realized Ms. Graham could get down. She was a sexual being and I realized that beneath her icy demeanor, her demanding attitude, she was probably a tigress in bed.

But despite this, despite seeing a new side of Ms. Graham, I still never pictured her in that way. I was never enraptured as much as my buddies were. It's probably due to having my lustful urges pointed elsewhere, and also due to the fact that it just kinda felt weird to lust after Mom's friend. That probably sounds weird coming from the guy who wants to fuck the hell out of my own mother, but that was the case. She was simply my mom's attractive friend. I never saw her as the sexy, strict disciplinarian my friends did. I never stammered or got nervous around her. That barrier was broken a long time ago. And while her body was very sexy, and if the opportunity came up I would thoroughly enjoy fucking her, all my focus was elsewhere. Mom had my sole attention.

Practice was winding down, so I was able to slip away from my teammates and start walking towards the stands. My balance was awkward as I climbed the metal steps in my cleats, clad in bulky football pads. My mom and Ms. Graham eyed me approaching as they chatted. Finally, as I got close enough, Ms. Graham spoke up.

"Hey, Tommy." she called out to me. I hated being called Tommy, but I knew her well enough to give her a pass. "Doing pretty good out there!"

"Hi, Ms. Graham." I replied, not feeling informal enough to call her Casey, even though I had known her for years.

"Think you guys can knock off Central next week?" she asked with a sly smile.

"Well, now that we've got me at quarterback, we might have a chance this time." I replied cockily. Ms. Graham smiled at my arrogance. I think she knew it was an act. Most of my manly bravado or machismo on my part was done ironically. I know it was dumb, and probably some of the time, I did actually act that way, and some people thought I seriously acted that way all the time. But I still did it anyway. I glanced at Mom and she simply stared at me, expressionless, her eyes hidden by her sunglasses.

"Well, good luck with that, Tommy." she replied with a smile, knowing my act, seeing through my bluster. She knew me well enough to know that I was confident enough to believe I could beat anyone, even with all the evidence to the contrary. Central was a bigger school, they had won the State Championship a few years back, and had clobbered us for about a dozen years in a row. Ms. Graham appreciated my confidence, but deep down she knew that I knew what I was in for.

"Well, I'd better be going." Ms. Graham said, gathering her briefcase and standing up. Mom stood up alongside her. Ms. Graham turned to her. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, hon. We haven't gotten to catch up in a while."

"I know." Mom replied. "It's a lot of work raising a growing boy."

"I'll bet." Ms. Graham said, glancing at me with a teasing smile.

"We'll have to catch up sometime." Mom said. She glanced at me. "Soon."

For a second, I panicked, thinking she was going to confide in Ms. Graham the dirty secret we shared, the nasty confession I made. I shook my head at this, realizing this was a ridiculous thought.

"Well..." Ms. Graham said, stepping down a few steps towards me. She put her hand on my arm. "If I don't get to talk to you beforehand, good luck next week."

I shivered at this closeness.

"Uh, yeah, okay. Thanks." I replied.

"Bye guys." Ms. Graham said. I turned to look as she walked down the steps, her heels clicking on the metal. Once she was out of earshot, I turned to face Mom.

She stood proudly on the bleachers. The sun was behind her, framing her, making her look resplendent in the light, as if the sun was proudly showing her off, Earth's greatest creation. The sun shined through her silky hair, light bent around the curve of her massive breasts, and highlighted the slight bit of belly her top left bare. My cock stiffened as I saw her bare belly button. Damn, every part of her did it for me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. She gasped in mock offense.

"Can't a mom watch her quarterback son practice?" she asked.

"Really?" I asked with raised eyebrows. She smiled slightly. "You know what you're doing."

"And what is that, exactly?" Mom asked. I glanced at her cleavage and back up to her face. She gasped in shock again. "You are a very dirty boy, Tom. You need to get your mind out of the gutter."

"Mom, I try to, but you keep dragging me back in." I replied. "You know what you've been up to."

"Well, son, just cause your dirty mind sees everything I do as sex doesn't mean that it is the case." Mom said.

"Look at how you've been dressing lately, when Dad's not around." I replied.

"What? That's typical mom-wear." she countered.

"Really? Short, tiny mini-skirts? Jiggly bras? Tiny thongs with extra whale-tail? That's all typically mom-wear?" I asked.

"Yeah." Mom said simply. "Going by the other neighborhood moms I know."

"I wanna meet these moms then. Where are they hiding?" I replied. She smiled again.

"So what do you think I'm doing here? What scenario did your dirty mind come up with?" Mom asked, putting her hands on her hips, her feminine fingers digging into her exposed flesh above the hem of her jeans.

"Well, uh..." I began, nervously. I gathered myself, looked up at her and smiled. "No one would blame you, Mom." I began, stepping towards her. "An older woman, husband gone all the time, nothing but time on your hands."

"Older woman?" Mom said, raising her eyebrows. I smiled.

"No one would blame you for coming to the football field, checking out the young, hunky football players. All those young muscles. Like I said, no one would blame you." I said, walking up a few steps till I was looking down at her. I couldn't help but gawk at the way her mountainous orbs pressed together insider her top, presenting her cavernous cleavage to me.

"Ha!" Mom replied. "You think I want to watch a bunch of sweaty, grunting, stinky teenage boys? You think that's how I get my jollies?"

"I thought you loved watching me play football?" I inquired.

"Yeah, as a mom! Not as some pervy old lady leering at the buff, sexy young guys." Mom countered.

"Sexy?" I asked, curious at her wording. She rolled her eyes.

"I was making a point, Tom." she said. She shook her head. "You need to get these dirty thoughts out of your head. All these normal things I do as a mom just come out filthy when they go through that head of yours."

"Yeah. Normal..." I replied. She reached up and put her sunglasses on top of her head. Her eyes looked up at me.

"That's right, Tom. It's totally normal for a mom to watch her son practice. There isn't any ulterior motive. Let me clue you in, honey." Mom began. "Women my age, despite what you might think, we don't look at barely legal guys as the prime example of men. We don't come to these games trolling for the young meat. Trust me, that's not what we are looking for."

"Is that right?" I replied with a smirk, feeling a new boldness run through me, "If none of you enjoy the sights, then why are so many of you always here? Watching. I think..." I began, stepping closer to her. "That you like it more than you would ever admit. I think... that, in fact, deep down, a young beefy stud is exactly what women like you are looking for." Mom's eyes flashed as she listened to me give her some back for the first time. I stepped closer to her, now that we were on the same level, the same step. I continued, my voice more insistent, more husky. "Young men, like me, so bursting with... energy. Women like you, so bursting with need, with husbands who leave you alone all day, leaving your needs... unfulfilled."

I stepped close to her as I spoke. Mom looked up at me, biting her bottom lips as her gaze locked onto mine. She had her hands on her hips as she stood up straight, this posture naturally forcing her massive breasts outward, nearly spanning the distance between us, nipples hard beneath her top, as hard as I'd ever seen them.

I didn't know if she was enjoying this interplay between us or if I was seeing what I wanted to see. And I didn't know whether it was just natural by the way she was standing or if it was done purposefully. But all I knew was that her jugs were being forced outward, as if she were trying to get me to look at them, to appreciate them. Showing off her huge tits, showing off the one pair of tits that were forbidden to me. That I could never touch. Never squeeze. Never suck. Never lick. Never fuck. And my mom was showing them off like this in front of me, when she knew what they did to me. She was torturing me with them, practically daring me to cross that line. Daring me to reach forward, grab them, squeeze their succulent flesh, twist her rubbery nipples, make her gasp, make her plump lips open, make her moan.

A moment went by, a long pregnant pause, the tension thick between us. She just stood there, as if waiting for me to do something. This moment lasted for an eternity, it felt like, but it was merely just a moment. Finally, she looked down to her left, shaking her hair, showing off her graceful neck. She looked back up at me. Mom stepped forward and put her hand on my arm.

"Keep dreaming, hon." she said with a warm smile. She then stepped back and shook her head. "How did I raise a boy with such a dirty mind?" She tsked at me as my eyes narrowed. Her teasing and mixed signals were becoming beyond frustrating. She sensed my annoyance and smiled. "Don't work yourself up so much, babe. If this is how you react, you're gonna explode and fire all over the place."

"What?" I asked, baffled.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice that as soon as you saw me, you couldn't complete a pass to save your life! You were throwing it all over the place." Mom said with a knowing tone. "You need to focus. I'll always be here, watching like a good mom would. That's not gonna change. So, you just need to focus, get your head straight, cause that's the only way you'll score."

"Wait, are you talking about..." I began. Mom then slapped my arm lightly, the motion making her succulent boobs jiggle.

"What am I gonna do with you? So dirty... so filthy." she said, an iniquitous smile on her lips, enjoying my confusion. "Well, I see I'd better get going. You just can't seem to get your head straight with me around." she moved forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Her perfume hit my nose made me shiver. She stepped back and smiled. "I'll see you at home, babe. We're having pork chops." I nodded slightly as she began to step down the bleachers.

My eyes followed her swaying backside. She always shook it when she walked and today was no different. Her denim-clad ass bounced and jiggled, her clingy jeans really showing off her round butt. It was my favorite pair of her jeans for that sole reason. Mom got about halfway down when she looked back at me. I couldn't pull my eyes away from her round butt, and she caught me staring. She smiled, shook her head, and turned away. I looked back down at her butt, just in time to see her top ride up her back, revealing the top of her teeny, tiny black thong. I moaned inwardly and looked away.

Practice was over. Most of my teammates were in the locker room, changing, while I was talking to my mom. Some of them had changed and were hanging around the field. And each and every one of them had their eyes on my mom as she jiggled away, following her bouncing butt and trembling tits as she sauntered off.

I had to get my mind off of her. I still didn't know what her game was. This was beginning to move beyond gentle teasing. She was going out of her way, working at it by coming to my practice, just to torture me with her hot body. She was working at it just so she could work it in front of me. She put on sexy clothes, body revealing clothing, clothes designed to highlight her lush frame. To show off in front of me and my teammates. She knew the affect she would have on me.

What was she doing? What was her game here? Cause this was starting to border on sadistic. It's a cruel thing to tease a guy who obviously wants you. I wouldn't put up with that if a girl my own age did that to me. I would call her a very unpleasant name and be done with her. But I couldn't do that to my mom. And besides, I was controlled enough to keep my cool. It took a lot to make me blow my lid. If she was being outwardly cruel and nasty to me, I wouldn't put up with it. But she was doing these filthy things while still maintaining her normal façade. It was as if she wasn't doing what she was doing. She was acting, for the most part, the same. She had always been flirty and every move she made always oozed sex. Now, she had simply turned it up. She had turned the dial up to 11. She was strutting her stuff brazenly; however, she was acting like nothing had changed. But it had. Everything had changed.

She was putting in so much work to tease me. The only reasoning for this was that either she got a sick, sadistic pleasure from torturing me, or she simply enjoyed teasing me. Enjoyed the game. Enjoyed flaunting her wares to a young man who appreciated the sights she could provide. Enjoyed flirting and being the sex kitten she was born to be. I knew this was probably the case, cause knowing her like I do, she was not a particularly mean or malicious person. I think my guess was right in that she enjoyed the game we were playing. I hoped deep down that there was more to it. That maybe, just maybe, toying with me turned her on. That maybe there was a sliver of hope that this all was leading to something happening between us. That despite her saying otherwise, sex between her and I was still a possibility. I had to hope that was the case. It was unlikely, but I had to hope I would get to see Mom in all her glory.

And while this was torture, it was kind of a sweet torture. It's not the worst thing in the world to see my mom showing off her robust body. It was not the worst thing to see her turning it up, showing off her long legs, her round butt, her huge tits, and her cavernous cleavage. Sure, flaunting herself and telling me I had no chance with her was infuriating. Her keeping me on edge constantly was difficult. But because of this, because of what she was doing, I was cumming harder than I ever had before. She kept my balls so full that when I came, I came like a cannon. I came hard and I came a lot. I literally exploded with cum. In those moments of bliss, all the torture she put me through was totally worth it.

I tried to clear my head before going to the locker room. I didn't want to go down there sporting a tremendous erection. I had too cool off, get Mom's body off of my brain. Think about other things, not my mom's gigantic, soft breasts. I had to think about anything else, like football, or homework, and not think about the way my mom's nipples seemed to get harder the longer our conversation went on. God, knowing I probably would never get to see those suckers in the flesh filled me with dread. But I had to believe, against all odds, that I would get my chance to see them. To show her what I could do, show my own mother I was built to handle those magnificent tits. To show her that my thick cock and her giant rack were a perfect match. To do show her I could douse her body in my thick cum, coat her with it, and show her what her teasing was doing to me.

I shook my head again. I had to think clearly. Not think about her. Think about football. Think about school. Think about anything else. I turned around and stared into the setting sun. Trying to focus on anything else. But it really was a struggle.

Much like what she had been putting me through, not thinking of her was a sweet torture.

************

Me and Mom rolled together in a sweaty heap till we stopped, with me on top. I let my hands slide up the silky skin of her flat belly until I let my hands cupped her massive breasts. I gave them a squeeze as my mouth attacked one of her rock hard nipples, sucking it as hard as I could.

Her nipple was diamond hard as I chewed on it. Her breasts were indescribable. They were even more gigantic than I thought, and they were even softer than I ever thought possible.

At least I think they were.

The truth was, I couldn't quite see them. I mean, I was squeezing them and sucking them, and I would no doubt very soon be fucking them. But for some reason, I couldn't see them. It was like sweat had run over my eyes, obscuring my vision. No matter how many times I blinked, trying to clear my vision, I couldn't quite clear my blurry vision. I could see the outer areas of her body, like her bare shoulders and flat belly. But no matter what angle I looked, I couldn't clearly see the goods.

It wasn't a big deal, though. At least I had my hands on my mother's massive rack. But for some reason my hands were numb, so even though I was squeezing the soft flesh I had so dreamed of feeling, I couldn't really feel the soft flesh. No matter how hard I squeezed, no matter how much I made her soft flesh pour through my fingers, I just couldn't feel anything.

"C'mon babe. Fuck them. Fuck my tits! Fuck them like you always dreamed about." Mom moaned out.

"I, uh, I can't... uh." I stammered, not knowing why I couldn't see or feel any of her good bits. Her tone shifted from lusty to dismissive.

"Oh, I fucking knew it, Tom." Mom said. I looked up as she rolled her eyes at me. "This is why I held off on giving you a shot at me. I knew you wouldn't know the first thing about how to handle a body like mine." Mom slid from under me and stepped off the bed. My vision was obscured as she stood in front of me. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear up my vision so I could get one good look at her body in full. My vision started to clear as I blinked, and finally, just as my vision was about to clear, my mom pulled her silk robe around her body, closing it just as my gaze cleared. I now looked at her, clothed in just this thin, silky purple robe, hanging barely lower than her ass, now hiding the body I craved. Her hard nipples poked against the silk material. She looked down at me, shaking her head disappointedly.

"I gave you one shot, hon, and you fucking blew it." she sneered at me. I had never felt so low in my life, my mother shaming me as not man enough to slake her thirst. "If you think I'm gonna give you another chance, keep dreaming."