The Game, Part 1
Disclaimer: As with all my work, this is erotic entertainment for adult readers. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. All sexual activity in this work is consensual and all sexually active characters are 18 years of age or older. -- VH
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My name is Tommy, I’m a senior in high school. So the crew I run with -- we’re all seniors - came up with something we called ‘The Game’. The goal was who could fuck each other’s mothers, and who could fuck the most mothers. The way we’d play it was to be over at one of our mother’s houses (when no one else is at home, of course) and at some point say, “Gee Mrs. X, you sure are looking beautiful today,” and when she responded, blurt out something like, “I mean, you really look fucking hot!” and see where it goes from there.
Looking back, all I gotta say is the results were incredible, far beyond what I could have possibly imagined, going in.
But before we got started, there was an obvious hurdle. A guy could claim he fucked somebody’s mother, but how would we know for sure? There had to be proof, and a pair of panties wouldn’t be enough to cut the mustard. We talked it over and it was Johnny Hart the class science nerd who came up with the brilliant solution.
“Check this out,” he said. He was looking at a webpage full of spy cams, gadgets like that. There were mini-cams that could save pics to your phone, via Bluetooth. Perfect for our perverted plans. We all made a selection -- Johnny chose a pair of nerd glasses with a built in mini-cam. I chose a ring that featured some kind of Norse Viking symbology, which I thought was apropos. When my mini-cam ring came in the mail, I excitedly tried it out and the results were better than I hoped for. MILFs of the World, look out.
That very afternoon I went over to Andy’s house and rang the doorbell. When his mom answered the door, I asked, “Hi, Mrs. Slotten. Is Andy home?” knowing full well he wasn’t.
“No, he’s at his play rehearsal,” she said. “He won’t be home until after five.”
“Can I come in?” I asked. “It’s hot and I’d like to ask for a glass of water.”
“Why, certainly,” she said. “Perhaps you’d like a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade?”
“That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Slotten!” I replied.
Freshly squeezed
, I thought --
you can squeeze my lemon until the juice runs down my leg.
Heh-heh.
She led me into the kitchen. As I leaned back against the counter sipping a glass of lemonade, I played my opening line:
“Gee, Mrs. Slotten, you sure are looking beautiful today.”
She looked at me quizzically. “Why, thank you, Tommy,” she smiled.
“I mean, you really look fucking hot!” This earned me a double take.
“Uh, don’t you have a girlfriend, Tommy? Aren’t you going with Brittany Lockhart?”
“Yes, I am! Would you like to see a picture of her?” I whipped out my phone, went to my pictures folder, and handed my phone over for Andy’s mom to see.
“Oh, she’s pretty in this picture!” Mrs. Slotten said.
“Yes,” I said. Then I reached over and casually flipped the image to the next one, almost as if by accident. It was a picture of me, completely naked with a smile on my face and my hard cock poking straight up and out.
“Oh . . . my . . . goodness!” Mrs. Slotten gasped.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Slotten! You weren’t supposed to see that!” I pretended to try to take the phone back.
“No, no -- it’s okay,” she said, waving my hand away as she continued to stare at my naked picture, mesmerized. “I want to . . . look at it . . .”
Mrs. Slotten seemed hypnotically drawn into the picture on my phone, and as I watched her look I began feeling stiff in my jeans. She finally spoke, her eyes still focused on the naked picture of me. “You know, Tommy,” she said quietly, “You are an incredibly handsome young man.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Slotten.” My pulse was pounding in my temples, and my cock was straining against the front of my jeans.
