“Yes, Mrs Moore.” [FM] Mutual Masturbation, MILF.

*Preface: A change from my other content! Let me know if you enjoy it. If you’re here solely for the sex, I’d skip to about half way through and read from there!*

*YES, MRS MOORE.*

It was a hot Saturday morning when I agreed to do a gardening job for one of my mother’s friends. Truth be told, I needed the cash and it wasn’t like my résumé was jam-packed anyway; I was on my summer break after the first year of my degree, and work was becoming increasingly difficult to find. I drove over to Mrs Moore’s house early in the morning, winding through the middle-class suburbs and occasionally getting lost in a cul-de-sac until I stopped at one particularly exquisite house. The building lay white and pale against the bright blue sky, with creamy pillars leading towards a large glass front door. I checked the number my mother gave me, and it seemed to be the correct place.

Mrs Moore opened the door quickly and came outside before I had a chance to knock. I immediately smelled her light floral perfume and noticed her carefully painted lipstick. She hurriedly waved her hand to summon me in, quick to not let any bugs enter the house with the summer heat, and ushered me to sit down on her sofa.

Once the rudimentary questions about my skill level and criminal record were complete, there was a moment of silence.

“You’ll do.” She said coolly, her eyes flickering over my ratty t-shirt. “I pay £11.00 an hour and I expect results.”

I nodded my head. She began to gently play with the olive in her martini glass, swirling the stick around with her finger. I couldn’t tell what was running through her mind.

“We start today.” She stood up quickly and beckoned me to follow her out of the living room towards the back garden. While standing on the porch, she told me about her plans for the garden.

“I need you to do the basics for now so I can hire someone to come in and redesign the place when you’re done. How long will that take?”

I surveilled the grass and overgrown hedges and made a mental calculation in my mind. “A week or two, maybe. I’d need to have a proper look.”

She studied my expression closely and gestured broadly with her hands. “I’ve been out of town for a while. It’s not usually like this.” I wasn’t sure why my opinion mattered to her; from my perspective it seemed like she couldn’t wait to get rid of me. She waved me off with an absent excuse, quickly returning herself back into the house and up the stairs.

Soon it was midday and the sun began to beat down on my back, the temperatures continuing to rise with the arid heat. I pushed the hair out of my eyes and let out a deep sigh as I started the lawn mower. The children across the street were squirting one another with water guns, making my mouth feel even drier. I managed to get halfway across the overgrown lawn when I heard Mrs Moore calling out to me.

“Liam, I’m leaving,” she said, buttoning her purse. “I’ve left your money on the dining room table in case I’m not back. Don’t take anything else.” She shot me a cool stare and dropped the key to the door on the stoop. I nodded at her but she had already turned away, her heels clacking back through the house towards the entrance hall.

The rest of the day’s work came more easily. I took a break around 3pm and grabbed some water from her kitchen (which was just as sterile and cold as she was) before returning to my duties. At least the sun was beginning to go down and I could take my shirt off now.

It was early in the evening when Mrs Moore arrived home, a little while before I was finished with my tasks for the day.

“Are you nearly done?” She said calmly. I nodded at her, a small spray bottle gripped tightly in my hand. I was covered in mud and grime, and probably smelled even worse.

“Good. I’m going to need you to come a little earlier tomorrow. I have a task for you.”

I looked at her curiously, but she had already turned on her heels and walked away again. It seemed waiting for agreement didn’t seem to be part of Mrs Moore’s agenda.

I finished up in the garden and grabbed my belongings, shoving the money she had left into one of my jacket pockets. Driving back on the way home, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Maybe it was her icy temperament or classical look, but something about her was intoxicating. I wondered where her husband was.

I woke up early the next morning, carefully selecting a lighter t-shirt and packing a bottle of water to put in the car. The money crumpled into my jacket was transported to my equally crumpled wallet, before I began to drive back to the house for another day of hard work.

As soon as I arrived back at the house, I knocked on the front door and heard Mrs Moore calling out that the door was unlocked. I stood in the hallway for a second contemplating whether to let myself into her garden, before deciding to take initiative and walking out onto the porch. I placed my tools and belongings down on the grass and got back to work. The weeds beneath the hedges were stubborn, but I persevered.

The temperature was a little cooler than the day before, and I was finding it easier to be productive. That was, until Mrs Moore came out onto the porch in a thin chiffon bath robe.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, while gently towel drying her hair.

I thought about it for a second and nodded eagerly. “I would love a lemonade, if you have one.”

She padded down the hallway, her bare feet making a soft thud against the hard flooring. A few moments later she returned, a lemonade with ice and a slice of lemon clenched tightly in her hand. She handed it to me and sat down on the porch, her legs swinging out over the steps.

“You did a reasonable job yesterday.” A smile began to creep around the edges of her lips, but I saw her suppress it. I said nothing. I could see the outline of her cleavage through the thin material as she pressed her arms tightly into her chest.

I tried to divert my gaze as she started gently rubbing her tanned legs together, her painted toes pressing against her well-toned calf muscles. She shut her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, gently pushing her dress up and rubbing her thigh.

“Liam?”

I stopped fiddling with one of my tools and looked at her.

“Do you find me attractive?”

My heart began to beat quickly and I felt a gentle stirring in my shorts. What was the correct answer to this question?

“I… I think you’re an attractive woman. Your husband is a lucky man.”

She let out a genuine smile, one of the first I had ever seen from her.

“I don’t have a husband.”

I raised an eyebrow inquisitively and ran my finger along the top of my shears.

“It’s all a status thing. People find me less intimidating when they think I’m a married woman. It’s something to do with the money.”

She shifted uncomfortably and carefully tucked the bathrobe between her legs.

“But that does mean you can flirt with me if you like.”

She let out a big, tinkly laugh and lifted her head up towards the sun again. I couldn’t help but stare at the way the robe wrapped around her thigh and framed her breasts. The erection beneath my shorts was beginning to grow.

“What if I wanted more than just to flirt?”.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my heart rush to the back of my throat. This was my mother’s friend, and here I was brazenly trying to seduce her. She kept her eyes closed for a few seconds and then looked at me. I couldn’t read her facial expression.

Without a word, she slowly undid the tie on her bathrobe and pulled the silky material off of her shoulder. I noticed the pale contours of her skin against the deep fabric as she slowly undid the robe and let it fall around her. Her breasts were magnificent – soft-looking and firm, with pale pink nipples. I felt my dick begin to pulse as my eyes travelled across her body.

She looked up at me expectantly and bit her lip, but I was too shell-shocked to move. Without missing a beat, she slowly took her legs and spread them for my viewing pleasure. Her soft pink labia became exposed to the warm air and I saw her shuffle a little to get comfortable. I became very aware of my surroundings as I stared intently at her lips that glistened in the sunlight. My legs nudged me to go and touch her, but she held up a manicured finger in protest.

“I want to watch you.”

“Watch me?” I said, my eyes still firmly focused on her body.

“Touch yourself.” She didn’t seem like the type of girl to barter with. Almost in a trance, I began to quickly remove my trainers and socks. I slid the shorts I was wearing down past my hips and I saw her let out a little smile when she saw my erection.

I grabbed my dick in my hand and began rubbing it, still staring intently at her breasts. She let out a little moan as she watched me stroke myself, one hand cupping her breast and the other hand steadying herself above the stairs.

“Is this good for you?” I said in a low grunt, my dick beginning to pulse with the movement. She smirked at me and slowly lay back onto the porch, her legs still spread widely as I watched her begin to play with her clitoris. I could hear her wetness even from a metre away, which only turned me on further. Her hips began to sway slightly from the sensation, and I could tell my own orgasm was coming soon.

I began to stroke my cock harder and faster, the rush of adrenaline causing my knees to buckle slightly. Mrs Moore took the finger that she had been using on her clitoris and stuck it in her mouth, sucking the sweet juices off her hand as we made eye contact. My dick was throbbing and I squeezed it tightly, feeling the orgasm begin to well up inside me. I stroked a little more and clenched my eyes shut, gritting my teeth as the cum began to spurt out of me. I heard her make a little moaning noise at being able to watch my orgasm, and I finished messily all over the grass I had just weeded.

Sweaty and panting, I opened my eyes to see Mrs Moore staring at me. She quickly sat up and wrapped herself back into the bathrobe that was strewn across the veranda, patting down the back of her hair. With a quick step to the doorway, I watched her walk back up into the house and up the stairs as I tried to pull my shorts back up over my now softening dick.

I sat down for a moment, staring at the puddle of cum I had left next to her tulips and wondered if this was all she had wanted me for. After a little while, she walked past the open porch doors, fully dressed in a flowy shirt and Capri pants above her open heels. I looked at her legs as she walked by, her high heels click-clacking against the cold white marble flooring. I had never experienced anything like this before; the whole thing felt like a fever dream.

“Oh, and Liam?” She said, craning her neck past the glass door.

“Don’t forget to spray the crabgrass this time,” she said coolly, casting a withering look in my direction as she put in her large gold hoops. “I do pay you for something, you know.”

“Yes, Mrs Moore.”

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/nu67tb/yes_mrs_moore_fm_mutual_masturbation_milf

6 comments on ““Yes, Mrs Moore.” [FM] Mutual Masturbation, MILF.

  1. Pretty much hits a lifelong fantasy of mine right on the head.

  2. Can’t wait to read part 2 . Fantastic start and good writing

  3. Love a story about a powerful woman! I’d read a whole series.

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