Author's note: Thanks for all the positive feedback to A Love Like No Other! I was glad to see the tale of Mary and Tom resonated with so many of you and that you wanted me to continue their story. If you haven't read Part One yet, I highly encourage you to so you don't get lost (and be sure to rate and comment, I would greatly appreciate it). With that in mind, here is the next chapter of our loving couple's story, and I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
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"I think you're truly something special
Just what my dreams are really made of
Let's stay together, you and me boy
There's no one like you around, oh baby
I really like what you've
Done to me, I can't really explain it
I'm so into you"
-- Tamia
It was a crisp September Sunday morning. I was sitting in the pews at Sacred Realm Unitarian Universalist Church of Addison, Illinois, my spiritual home for nearly 20 years. My minister, Rev. Yolanda Franklin, was giving a sermon about the importance of cultivating joy in our lives and in the lives of those we love. I couldn't help but smile, considering the last 5 months have been nothing but joyful for me, and the man sitting next to me, my son -- and newfound lover -- Tom.
Since the night Tom and I made love for the very first time, our lives have been even more amazing than they were before. We had always been close, but now whenever we go to the park or stroll through the grocery store or even sit together in church, we can't keep our hands off each other. Something as simple as a trip to the mall could easily lead to us making out like horny teenagers in our parked car.
And yet, it's the little things that still make me weak in the knees: the way Tom looks at me from across the table, the way he does grocery runs or cooks meals when I'm feeling exhaudted, the way he makes me laugh by sending me random memes and GIFs whenever I need them the most, the way he rubs my feet and slow dances with me in the living room. To say this man loves me is the understatement of the century, and it's safe to say I absolutely feel the same way about him.
And the sex? Words can't do justice to describe just how intense and passionate and downright carnal our sex is. Tom is a 19-year-old man. I'm a 39-year-old woman. We're both in our sexual prime, and we make that scientific fact known nearly every single night. We literally cannot get enough of each other. In addition to our passionate bouts of evening lovemaking, I will often give Tom earth-shattering blowjobs to send him off to school with a smile on his face (and his delicious cum in my mouth). And holy fuck, does he love returning the favor. He always -- always -- goes down on me before fucking me. He says it's both because he loves making me happy and catering to me and making me feel special, and also because the way I smell and taste is indescribably delicious and he cannot get enough of me.
On this particular Sunday, Tom was wearing a dress shirt and pants I got him at Men's Wearhouse over the summer; I had on a dark blue cardigan that contrasted with my deep red lipstick, a medium-length black skirt, and a pair of nylon pantyhose with a hole ripped in the crotch with no panties underneath and my son's cum slowly dripping out of my cunt.
See, one Sunday in July, as we were getting ready for church, Tom told me that he wanted me to start wearing pantyhose to services more often. I smiled at his request and picked out a pair from my drawer. As I was reaching for the drawer with my panties, he stopped me. "I have an idea," he said. "Just put those on." I did as he asked, then modeled my slender body for him. I could see him staring at my pussy clad in nothing but nylon. He grinned at me, a grin that I recognized very often.
He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me hard, leading to me wrapping my arms around him in return. After a moment, he got on his knees and with all the fervor he had, he ripped my pantyhose open at the crotch. "Tom, what are you doing?!" I practically yelled. Tom looked up at me and simply said, "Loving my mother." He then buried his face into my pussy and started lapping ferociously at me. My entire body shook, and as I gasped in surprise at his actions, I held his head in place so he could eat his fill of me.
After making me cum to the point of almost soaking his face, he got up and physically turned me around so that we were both facing the dresser and could see ourselves in the mirror. He bent me over the dresser, eliciting another aroused gasp from me, and after unzipping his pants and pulling out his now-erect cock, he slid it deep inside me, filling me up from the back completely.
I moaned as he entered me, and in the mirror I could see both a mixture of erotic hunger and pure love on his face. After fucking me long and hard for a few minutes, we came together -- a feat we're able to do often -- and he leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I want you in a room full of people with my sperm inside of you."
Let's just say we turned this into a weekly ritual to make the holiest day of the week even more special.
Anyway, after the service ended, like every other Sunday, the congregation gathered in the foyer for coffee and cookies. Tom was catching up with his friends from the church Young Adults Division, a group of young people who volunteer to make Chicagoland a more just and livable place (word of advice: get yourself a partner who marches in the streets and absolutely wrecks you in the sheets). I was chatting with my friends from the church women & nonbinary group about planning upcoming events and programming, sipping my coffee and enjoying our conversation.
After we finished talking, I caught a glimpse of my son from across the room. His friends had left and he was standing there by himself, looking downright handsome as fuck. Even though both his tongue and his cock were inside my pussy before church, I knew I had to have more of him afterward. I smiled at him, bringing the coffee cup to my lips and taking a long sip. See, something else I found out about Tom recently is that he absolutely loves the scent of coffee on my breath. He's realized this ever since his senior year of high school. Whenever I would hug and kiss him goodbye in the mornings, he would catch a whiff of my coffee lingering on my breath and for some unknown reason, he absolutely loved it.
He said he always thought it was weird and was hesitant about admitting it to me one night as we were talking after making love. I assured him that it was not weird at all and nothing to be ashamed of, and that I would make sure we would have plenty of makeout sessions after I had my morning coffee and evening decaf in the future. Needless to say, he smiled and his cock sprang to action at my promise and we ended up fucking yet again. Not a single day or evening has gone by since that I have not had a fresh pot brewing or a case of cold brew in the fridge.
I looked him right in the eyes as I drank from the cup, and he knew exactly what I was doing. He instantly grinned at me and started heading my way. I couldn't wait to have him in my arms and to whisper how much I loved him right in his eager face.
"Mary!" a voice chirped nearby. I looked to my left and there was Mindy Frasier, one of the trustees. She was a year older than me and worked at a salon in Roselle. While she and I got along fine, I wouldn't exactly consider us friends. But still, she was a nice person and I usually enjoyed our conversations, as long as she didn't drag them out too long.
"Mindy, hi," I said. I quickly gave an "I'm sorry" glance at Tom, who replied with an "It's okay, mom" smile. "How's everything going?" I asked her.
"Oh, ya know, busy as usual. My two boys keep me on my toes and Randy and I just got back from Fort Lauderdale for our anniversary. How are you?"
"Life couldn't be better," I said honestly.
"Oh, that's great! You'll have to let me know how you've been cultivating so much joy, as Reverend Yolanda said in her sermon. Anyway, there's someone I want you to meet! Do you have a second?"
"Um, sure," I said, wishing desperately I could be with my son again instead.