Seduce Liz

"Mrs. Fowler," you say, slowly inching closer to her side of the kitchen. "That was a really great story."

Liz laughs. "You think so?" she says. "I liked telling it."

"Thanks," you say. "It sounds like it was a fun night."

"That's not the only fun night we've had," Liz says. "Not to mention all the fun nights I've had without Mr. Fowler." You can only imagine the pantheon of men and women that a woman as gorgeous as this has 'known.' "I only hope you don't have to wait as long as I did before you start acting on your own desires."

"You think I should?" you say. You stare her up and down. The way that her yoga pants and her tank top cling to her body is incredible. You can see every curve in her toned body. "Act on them?"

"Of course, dear," she says. This time, the tone of her voice isn't that of a mother but of a seductress. "You should never let anything get in the way of what you want." Liz sets her coffee cup down on the counter and strokes her thighs with her hands. "Hayley, dear, would you mind coming downstairs with me? I'll need help with the laundry and Emily is never any help."

"Yeah, sure," you say, pretending like you're feeling casual and relaxed. Your shoulders are tense, and you feel the urge to rub your thighs against each other.

Liz leads you to a door by the kitchen. It goes down into the basement by a rickety wooden staircase. You and Emily have barely spent any time down here, but you remember smoking your first joint in the corner of the Fowlers' basement, as well as making out with your first guy here. The washing machine and the dryer are near the stairs, and the dryer has just gone silent as you step onto the cold cement floor in your bare feet.

"So what do you want me to--" you begin.

Before you can finish your sentence, Liz attacks you. She lunges, pushing you up against the washing machine. One hand is on your ass, the other in your hair, and she's kissing your neck, hard. You groan without meaning to.

"Should I be quiet?" you ask. It's a struggle to get out the words.

"No," Liz says. "I think Emily is gone, and Mr. Fowler won't be home until late next week." She's kissing down your neck now, closer to your cleavage. "Even if she's home, who cares if she hears?"

You feel like the logic doesn't add up there, but you don't want your best friend's mother to stop kissing you, so you don't protest. Your ass is pressed up against the cold metal washing machine, and Liz's tight, hot body is pressed up against your torso. You throw your head back, overcome by the sensation of the older woman's lips on your body. She seems to know your body better than you even know it. That's a plus of being with an older woman, you think to yourself. It's hard to string the words together in your head, especially as Liz slips her hand into your pants.

"You're so wet," she purrs. "Did I do this to you?"

"Yeesss," you groan. "You're the one that made me wet."

"I like having that effect on young people," she says. "Once, I slept with a classmate of Emily's and his girlfriend. Emily doesn't know anything about it, but they have a photo of me on their phones, my breasts pressed against his girlfriend's."

"Fuck," you mutter. Liz's fingers are inside you now, _schlick_ing in and out of your pussy. "I want that," you whine.

"Well why don't we make that happen, dear?" Liz says. "Here, sit up on the dryer."

You do as she says. The metal is cold and it's an awkward seat, but you like how close Liz is to you, so you don't complain. She reaches past you and turns one of the dials on the dryer controls. The machine rumbles to life, shaking and jittering, and you quickly come to understand why Liz put you here.

"Ooooh," you moan.

"Nice, isn't it?" she says. "Sometimes I just sit there while I wait for the laundry to finish. Once I even came without touching myself."

"I wish," you say.

"It's alright," Liz says, stroking your hair. "I'll make you cum without you having to touch yourself."

"Fuck," you say. Your eyes are pointed at the ceiling, so you only see the top of Liz's head as she starts to go down on you with expert technique. Your legs are shaking seconds after she starts, and your fingers are digging into her dark hair. Her hair feels exactly like Emily's, you think to yourself, remembering all the times you and Liz's daughter brushed each other's hair.

The pleasure comes in powerful waves, washing over you like the tides. The constant shaking of the dryer is relaxing your muscles and keeping you constantly stimulated while Liz licks away at your pussy.

You lose track of the time as it passes, and lose track of your own body. You're not sure whether you're just riding one constant orgasm or whether Liz's oral is just keeping you at a heightened state of pleasure for what feels like hours on end. You don't know whether your moaning can be heard over the sound of the machine, and you have to wonder if Emily can hear you right now. You can't bring yourself to care.

Liz reaches past you again and shuts off the dryer. You slump into her arms, exhausted from the ecstasy. "How was that?" she asked you, as if it were your first day of school or something.

"Incredible," you groan. "You're amazing, Mrs. Fowler."

"Thank you," Liz says, looking more than a little proud of herself. "I'm glad I could help you act on your desires."

You hear a noise upstairs, like a crashing sound near the door to the basement.