You don't know ...

You look at Cat confused.
She is waiting, but you actually don't know what to tell her.
How far you are supposed to push this thing by the way?
You have no idea...

"John, come on, let's begin with something simple. Come." She gently drags you to the living room.

The lights are dimmer here, as you didn't bother to turn the main switch on.
Cat doesn't seem inclined to let you off the hook for now though, not even to just turn the lights on.

"I suppose the night ended too soon for you, right? I bet you expected some more clarification from Miranda, maybe some kind of ... closure?"

"I-I don't know ... I mean, I feel like I still have some many questions to ask her ..."

"Well, I couldn't answer to those probably, but are the answers really important John?"

You ponder her words.
What would you get out of asking Miranda if she has actually fucked with Matt? Or how may guys she had back in New York? It's all in the past, isn't it?
And no answer would be good enough for you, by the way...
But still, you would have hoped for her to show a bit more appreciation for you instead of just teasing you after leaving the afterparty...
Given how quick she was in offering her services to Matt, why couldn't she do something for you too?
You blush as the thought defines in your mind.

"What would truly make you feel better?" Presses Cat sensing the answer coalesce in your brain.

"I-I would have liked her to say that she that she was sorry ..."

"Sorry, uh? Just that? Come on, dear, let it all out ..." She giggles softly, closing the distance between the two of you.

"Tell Miranda, tell me John, what's the problem?"

You feel her hand on your chest.
She's right in front of you now, so close that you can smell the scent of coffee on her breath.

"I'm angry with ... you, Miranda, because ... I feel like it took you a second to fall down on your knees for Matt... and I can't really see what difference it would have made if it were that douchebag of Tom instead ... but the only thing I get instead, is a kiss. Just a lame kiss... With the same mouth ... If I think about it, it makes me puke. Heck, you didn't even let me get to the second base ..."

The moment you end your sentence, you realize with panic what you have just said and to whom.

"It's ok, John." Hushes you reassuringly Cat, holding you firmly in your place at the same time.

"It's only normal, John, to feel this way... I was stupid, I'm sorry ... I really am, trust me. I just don't really know what came to my mind, but ... I did stop in time, didn't I?"

You nod perplexed by her reaction.

"It was just ... a blowjob after all, wasn't it? I mean, I don't want to downplay the whole thing, but I'm sure I can find a way to make it up to you, what do you think?"

You nod again, gulping, suddenly aware of her hands on your chest.
There's some kind of allure in her tone and attitude that you didn't quite expect...

"John, only now I understand clearly that we need to put this behind us if we want to start afresh." She adds reading the confusion on your face.

"It should have been obvious, after all. You need a happy handing for tonight. You'll feel better after that, trust me." She continues pushing you gently on the couch with a committed smile.

What happened after that was unreal.

You watched Cat unclasp the buckle of your pants and tug them down altogether with your underwear like out of yourself.
Kneeled in front of you, she gripped your already rock-hard cock and began giving it slow deep strokes.
Her technique seemed quite rude at first, you felt distinctly each of her five fingers clench vigorously around your shaft.
But the more she tightened her grip, the more your cock thickened in reaction.

You did nothing to stop her when she leaned forward to take you in her mouth, you were already beyond your limit.
It was heaven. Not for a split second, you managed to picture her as her daughter tough, in all honesty.

Her blowjob was quick and without frills.
It was clear she was trying to get you off as fast as she could.
What was surprising was how, an older woman, apparently out of exercise in terms of sexual practice, could be so effective at it.
Her mouth was like a velvet glove.

"C-Can you take off your shirt, Miranda?" You managed to moan.

A vain attempt to delay the inevitable, assertive conclusion that you craved so much and prolong that blissful moment just a little more.
She didn't even flinch at your words and fulfilled your request with a mild, comprehensive smile.
You didn't last much longer, in any case.

The sight of those lush, supple globes slipping out of her shirt gave you the last blow.
Gargling the incipit of an incoherent warning, you felt the climax approach.
Cat simply clenched her hand on your knee while she kept bobbing her head up and down, almost like to spur you.
Feeling her nails lightly grazing your skin was like a trigger, a safety lock, she pulled it and you knew she was telling you it was ok to cum.
You gave in.

Without losing her composure, she took your cock out of her mouth the split second you were about to cum and smoothly pointed it right between her soft breasts.
You came and came, till you almost lost consciousness.
It was like she was milking you down to your marrow.
Her hand continued to work incapable of missing even one single beat of the mysterious lullaby she seemed to chant in her head until all went dark around you...

Dazed you regained your senses after a while, alone in your living room.

Was it a dream?
You quickly look down at your naked crotch and your semi-turgid cock laying on your stomach.

"Cat?" You call.

Silence.
Did you really just jacked off to Miranda's mom?
Whatever you did, it was intense, that's for sure.
Somehow you feel enfeebled, nerveless.
Curious ...