Noelle makes her move

The next week, Mrs. Madrigal calls again. This time, she asks if I can stay overnight. I check with Mom, who says it’s fine with her. “Maybe she’s finally found a man worth keeping,” she says. “I’d like to see her happy again. If you can help her, go to it.”

Mrs. Madrigal answers the door in the same black dress. This time, I’ve braced myself, so I make it into the house without a stumble. The house is quiet. “Where are Ian and Rowan?” I ask. I’m over earlier this time, so they should still be up; in fact, they ought to be crowding my legs asking for one or another of the silly games I like to play with them.

“I’ll explain in a minute,” she says. “Please, sit down.” She leads me to the couch and sits down, turned toward me, so close that our knees touch. With a strangely intense look in her eye, she asks, “Chris, do you have a girlfriend?”

Why is she asking this? Is she afraid I’m going to have a girl over while she’s gone? I admit I could see the temptation, but I wouldn’t do that to her or her kids. Besides—“No,” I say. “I think there are a couple girls who are interested in me, but I’m not going out with anyone right at the moment.”

Mrs. Madrigal relaxes a little. “Ian and Rowan aren’t here—you’re not going to be here watching them. Come with me, I’ll take you.”

This is odd, but I trust her, so I get in the car. As we drive, she starts asking me questions about the girls I’ve dated, and about sex, and what turns me on. She talks about her recent efforts to start dating again, and tells me that her failed dates have made her unsure of herself. Then she asks, “Chris, do you find me attractive?” How am I supposed to answer that? I wonder. I spend a few moments fumbling for words, and then she asks, “Or do you prefer women who are a lot slimmer than I am?” Could she possibly mean . . . ?

I’m not sure what possesses me, but I say, “M—Noelle, you’re perfect. You’re one of the hottest women I’ve ever seen—and in our neighborhood, that’s saying something.” She grins at that, then licks her lips. To my surprise, we pull into a hotel parking lot and park near one of the back doors.

Noelle unbuckles, then turns to me. “Lauren Sanders and I are close friends. We talk about everything.” Her low voice drops a little as she says, “We especially like to talk about sex. She told me how you fixed her little . . . problem a couple weeks ago. She said you gave her the best fucking she’d had in a long time.” Noelle looks at the painfully large and hard bulge in my pants and licks her lips again, then leans in closer. Unconsciously, I lean toward her. “She told me I wouldn’t believe what you’re packing down there. I think she might be right.”

Is she going where I think she’s going with this?

“Chris, I told you the truth when I said I had a hot date planned for tonight, and that I expected it to last all night. I didn’t actually tell you that I wanted you to watch the kids for me. They’re with my husband’s parents for a few days. I called you because you are my hot date for tonight.” She leans in the rest of the way and kisses me—softly at first, but with rapidly-growing hunger. She pulls away, panting a little.

“I reserved a hotel room because someone would notice if I said I had a date and then never left my house. I checked in hours ago so that we can go in quietly, because your mom probably won’t be happy with me if she finds out about this. I didn’t get dressed up to go anywhere, I did it just for you, to turn you on. I don’t want you to take me anywhere but to bed, or wherever else you feel like fucking me. All I want is for you to fuck me into exhaustion tonight, then wake up in the middle of the night and fuck me again because you’ve been dreaming about me so hard, you can’t help yourself, and then have my pussy for breakfast in the morning. And then maybe I want your cum for shower gel before I take you home.” Her throaty purr throbs with lust as she speaks. She gives me a sultry smile and says, “Sound good?”

For a variety of reasons, I haven’t jacked off in several days. I’m suddenly very glad. I take a risk and say, “Sounds like you want to be my cockslut tonight.”

Noelle stiffens for a fraction of a second, then a lustful smile blazes on her face. “Oooh,” she murmurs, “talk dirty to me. I like it. Yes, I want to be your cockslut tonight. Will you be my fucktoy?”

“The pleasure will be all mine,” I say, and kiss her hard.

When we break off, she says, “Somehow, I don’t think so,” and opens the car door.