You go a little further with Angela

Angela hums a catchy tune as she makes your sandwich. She’s bent over in front of you, naked as the day she was born. When she’d stripped for you, it was like a switch had been flipped in her mind. She seemed to have completely lost her sense of modesty. You know better, however. In front of just about everyone else, Angela Hughes would be just as she always was. A kind, supportive woman with a great work ethic and better sense of humor. A woman who took her responsibilities as a wife and mother seriously. She’d still have an innate need and desire to be looked at and touched by men, but the fear of discovery ostracism you’d nourished within her mind would stop her from attempting to satisfy that desire. But you’re the exception. You made sure.

From the way she’d smiled when you beheld her naked body for the first time, you’d think she won the lottery. You’d never seen her so happy. Despite having a new, consistent outlet for her desires, she was still very much a woman who took her responsibilities very seriously, and she’d taken it upon herself to be responsible for making you lunch.

It doesn’t take you very long to discover that you enjoy watching a beautiful naked older woman prepare a meal for you.

You stare at her ass as she layers your sandwich with slices of salami. She takes her time, slowly peeling the salami pieces from their packaging. Her derriere is nice and round. It wiggles slightly as she shakes it back and forth.

“You like my butt, huh?” she asks, glancing back at you. A teasing smirk plays at her lips.

“I do,” you admit. “It’s so nice and round. I just want to grab it, you know?”

You’re not sure where the honesty comes from. Ever since that blowup with your mother, you’ve felt a need to reassess how you do things and be more cautious about pressing a woman’s boundaries. Maybe it’s intuition; some feeling you can’t really explain that tells you Angela isn’t likely to react negatively to anything you say, as long as you keep it within the context of her fetish.

She chuckles.

“Oh do you, now? Well, today’s your lucky day. Why don’t you come a little closer and cop a feel? I don’t mind.”

You widen your eyes, feigning surprise. You doubt she’d have minded if you’d just walked up to her and groped her, but you feel she’s known you long enough to gauge how you’ll react under most circumstances. If she’d said something like that a week ago, you’d have been a sputtering mess. Well, you’re not going to go that far. Some things can’t be faked so convincingly, and you’re simply not that person anymore.

“Seriously? I was just making a joke. I didn’t think you’d actually be okay with something like that.”

Angela rolls her eyes and gives her fat bubble butt a deliberate shake, causing those magnificent globes to jiggle.

“John, I love you, but sometimes I feel like you need to learn how to take a hint,” she mutters. “When a woman undresses in front of you in private and bends over, that’s usually an invitation to go a little further than watch.”

She does make a good point.

Your manhood hardens. You swallow in a show of nervousness which you aren’t totally sure isn’t genuine.

“I-I don’t know. You’re a married woman. Mr. Hughes would get upset if he saw us like this, wouldn’t he? I mean I don’t really want to get on his bad side, you know?” you say, doing your best to sell Angela the image of a nervous boy out of his depth.

She merely smirks at you like you’ve said something particularly adorable.

“That’s fine. This is why we’re just going to keep this between us. My husband doesn’t need to know.”

She gives her big butt another shake. Fuck, the way those cheeks jiggle is absolutely mesmerizing.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“Mhm,” she nods. “I told you before that Logan’s away on business. He goes on a lot of trips, you know? And when he’s here he spends most of his days holed up at the office and often doesn’t get back before dinner. So usually it’s just me in the house since my girls are gone at school.”

“And you want me to come over and… what?”

She chuckles.

“Just do what you’re doing now. And maybe something more,” her smile widens deviously.

“Like what? What do you want from me?” you ask. “Why did you strip naked in front of me? I… just don’t understand what’s going on here. Please tell me.”

Angela stands up now and faces you. You’re graced with a view of her naked breasts again. They’re so large and perfect. It’s almost impossible to resist touching them, knowing the alterations you’ve made to her mind.

She approaches you slowly, swaying her wide hips as she does so. She places a hand against your chest.

“I’m…” she pauses. Her pretty hazel eyes look into yours. They radiate vulnerability, promising you so much if you only just take advantage of her. “I’m lonely, John. I mean, I love Logan, but he’s never around. I just need someone here to keep me company and make me feel appreciated. Can you do that for me? Please?”

You stare into her eyes for a long moment, pretending to think.

“So, when you say you’re lonely, you don’t mean you actually want to have an affair with me, right?”

Angela snorts.

“God, no. I’d never do that to my husband, no matter how lonely and neglected I felt. I was raised with a set of values. One of them is ‘never cheat on your significant other.’”

You nod.

“Those are good words to live by. And it’s not that I was worried or anything. I know you’d never betray Mr. Hughes. I just wanted to be sure, because, you know,” you gesture toward her. “If someone saw us like this, they might get the wrong idea.”

Angela looks down at herself. She’s silent for a few seconds before she bursts out laughing. It’s such a pretty sound that you can’t help but smile at her.

“Oh my god, you’re totally right! I don’t know why I didn’t think about that before. Yeah, if someone saw me naked in front of you, they’d obviously think we were doing something naughty,” she gives you a playful shove and winks at you. “Good thing it’s just us here, right?”

“Right,” you agree. “So, you don’t want to have an affair-”

“Definitely not.”

“You’re completely loyal to Mr. Hughes and your wedding vows-”

“Right, totally.”

“And you’re naked in front of me, because, well, uh, you like being naked in front of me?” you say.

“I do, actually. Is that a problem?” she asks, a sly smile on her face.

“Not at all. And it’s not a problem for you, either. We’re just two people hanging out, shooting the shit. And you’re naked.”

She giggles.

“I’ll always be naked when it’s just the two of us together,” she moves her hands to the sides of her breasts and mashes them together. She lets out a soft moan.

“Wow. It’s almost like you want me to look at your body,” you tease her.

“Is it that obvious?” she raises her eyebrows, her face slightly flushed.

You look her up and down, taking the time to admire her thick, toned thighs, her pussy, her stomach, and finally, her breasts which she’s started massaging for your viewing pleasure. The blonde MILF practically beams at you, soaking in all the attention you’re giving her.

“Well, you’re grinning like you just won a prize at the fair, so yeah, it’s pretty obvious.”

She laughs again..

“Well, good. I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding between us,” she says. “You know, I think this could be the start of a wonderful relationship.”

You raise your eyebrows at her turn of phrase.

“A strictly platonic relationship.”

“That’s right,” she replies, a strange mix of mirth and firmness in her tone.

“A platonic relationship where you let me see you naked in private and ask if I want to grab your ass. Were you serious about that, by the way?”

“Yeah,” she nods rapidly. “Feel free to touch me wherever you want. I actually prefer you do that over just look at me, but if you’re not comfortable with that…”

“No, no, I totally am.”

She eyes you skeptically.

“Oh yeah? Touch my boobs, then. Or are you scared?”

She lets her hands rest at her side and puffs out her chest like a penguin.

She quirks an eyebrow as if to say: “Well? I’m waiting.”

“Okay, fine.”

You move your hands forward, grasping her breasts. They’re soft and warm and pliant. You almost let out a sigh of pleasure. There’s something about touching a woman’s breasts that feels so satisfying and fulfilling. You’re so used to looking at them, fantasizing about them, but never being able to touch. But ever since you ended up in this new world, you’ve had nonstop access to all the tits you could ever want.

Angela lets out a soft moan as you gently squeeze her breasts. You start playing with them, bobbing them up and down. She giggles.

“Wow, this is amazing!” you say.

“Hah. I knew you’d like them,” Angela smiles widely, showing immaculate white teeth. “Keep squeezing em’. It actually feels pretty good.”

“Yeah?” you rub your thumbs over her hardening nipples.

She gasps and nods.

“Mhm. Ah…” her eyelids flutter. “Keep doing that, John.”

Suddenly, your stomach grumbles again, more loudly this time.

Angela sighs and shakes her head.

“You know what, why don’t we put this on hold until I’m finished making lunch for you?” she says.

“Uh, okay,” you try to mask your disappointment and you’re pretty sure you aren’t successful.

Angela’s wry grin only seems to confirm it.

“Relax, sport. I won’t take that long. And you need your energy for later.”

You nod, and she turns away from you. Your hands feel vacant.

She resumes making your sandwich. She’s bent over the counter again, only this time she’s jutting her ass in the air behind her. She sways it back and forth, humming innocently as she does so.

You grin wolfishly. There’s no way you’d ever buy the idea that she wasn’t goading you, even before you’d gained the experience you have now. You may be a (former, you swear!) shut-in with poor social skills and a lack of experience with the opposite sex (not so much anymore), but you aren’t an idiot.

When your hands come into contact with her soft, pliant assflesh, she lets in a sharp breath. She whips her head around and stares at you sharply. She doesn’t stand up or move away. She doesn’t grab your hands or push them away. She just stays bent over in front of you. It’s hard not to take her seeming inaction as an invitation to go further.

“Hey, I-I thought I said we’d take a little break from this until your lunch was ready?”

Well, look who’s stammering now?

You love seeing older women like this; knocked off their game and scrambling to make things make sense. They’re so used to being in control of themselves and the world around them. They’ve settled into years-long routines, allowing themselves to become complacent, unaware that their lives could radically change at any moment. Angela almost certainly thought she knew hers before she’d invited you into her house. Now, for better or for worse, whatever her life was going to be has changed.

“Yeah, you did say that, but then I realized that I can grab your ass like this and it won’t stop you from making me lunch,” you smirk, delighting in the way her asscheeks yield to your touch. You squeeze and grope them, quickly settling into a pattern. “You’ve got an amazing ass, Angela.”

You punctuate your statement by giving her bubble butt a sharp pinch.

“Ah!” she cries out, glaring at you angrily. “Why’d you do that? That hurt a lot!”

“Sorry,” you take your hands off her. “If you want, I’ll stop.”

“No!” the anger drains from her face, replaced with something akin to desperation. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“Okay, I’m starting to get mixed messages here,” you raise your hands. “Do you want me to keep doing what I was doing or not?”

Angela groans, and your dick twitches. You can’t help but enjoy witnessing her frustration; her attempts to cope with the commands you’d implanted into her mind. It’s a heady feeling, being able to reshape her behavior without her being able to stop it, much less be aware of it. A part of you knows it’s wrong and hates that you’re responsible for her frustration. A bigger part of you revels in the power you have over Angela and mothers in general. They’re authority figures by nature, wielding an almost godlike ability by giving birth and shaping new lives into adulthood and beyond. Yet, for at least five minutes a day, they’re nothing but putty in your hands, their minds open and **** to even the barest whispers of your influence.

When she doesn’t respond, you continue.

“This was a bad idea. I’m clearly making you uncomfortable. I should probably just head out.”

“Wait!” she seizes your arm. Her nails dig into your skin. Her eyes are wide and wet with unshed tears. “Please don’t go. You can… you can pinch my ass if you want. I don’t care. I need this. Please.”

You pretend to mull it over, enjoying the way her eyes gaze at you desperately even as guilt gnaws at you from beneath your ribcage.

“Fine. I’ll stay.”

She smiles at you.

“Thanks, John! You’re such a sweet guy. I knew I could count on you.”

You nod, trying to ignore the uncomfortable twisting sensation in your gut. You take a deep breath, trying to reign in that dark impulse; the need to not just dominate, but to demonstrate your control over the people around you. You don’t want to upset Angela. She’s never done anything to hurt you.

“Happy to help. I, uh, I’m sorry about the scare earlier. I had no idea you were this lonely.”

She nods again, rapidly, clearly overjoyed that you’ve decided to stay.

“It’s perfectly fine. I know it’s inappropriate to ask so much of you. I’m old enough to be your mother. You’re the one who’s supposed to rely on me when things go south, not the other way around. I feel so horrible for springing this on you. God, I’m pathetic,” she averts your gaze.

“No, no. Don’t say that,” you grasp her chin between your thumb and index finger and **** her to look at you. You’re struck again by just how beautiful she is. You’ve never seen her so **** before, and for some reason that vulnerability makes you more attracted to her. It makes you want to take her for yourself, completely excising her from her old life and giving her a new one where she’d never want for anything. “You’re a strong, beautiful woman. It’s okay to need someone. I’ll always be here for you if you need me.”

She hiccups.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Suddenly the air between you becomes much more intimate. You don’t know how long the two of you just stare at each other silently, faces mere inches away from each other. It’s hard not to think that there's something here. A connection that hadn’t really been there before. Something that might take on a life of its own if the two of you were to take certain steps.

You want to kiss her. You want to press your lips against hers and dominate her mouth, to show her just how much you’re capable of caring about her. You want her to know that she’s not alone, and that she never has to be. That she deserves better than a family that never seems to be around for her. In a way, she reminds you of yourself.

Just as you’re about to take the next step, something stops you. A memory of your mother fleeing you flashes through your mind. You’d kissed her. She’d loved it. Yet it had scared her. It’d been too much, too fast. A clear warning to never overstep your bounds until you’ve thoroughly broken them down, like you have with Sharon.

Your heart skips a beat when you think about Jared’s mother. Your girlfriend. Your actual, honest to god girlfriend who’s going to be going on an honest-to-god date with you. Just a few days ago, she’d probably have laughed at the idea of having any sort of romantic interaction with you, if she even really remembered you at all.

A kiss might be fine by Angela’s standards. After all, you did get her to admit under hypnosis that nothing you did with her could be considered sexual. But could something be considered romantic? Are romance and sexuality inextricably linked or are they separate concepts that sometimes intersect? You wish you’d thought about that while Angela was still hypnotized.

While in a trance, she’d made it very clear that she’d never consciously betray her husband. While she might not see you staring at her naked body or touching her as something sexual that would constitute a betrayal, you worry that a kiss would. Such a simple thing, a kiss, yet it would probably upset Angela enough to override her need to have you around just like it had your mother.

“It’s no problem,” you mutter softly, distancing yourself from her.

She nods wordlessly, a conflicted expression on her face. Does she know how close you were to making her break her wedding vows?

Your phone vibrates in your pocket again.

Angela glances downward.

“You should probably get that, honey,” she says, and gives your arm a gentle squeeze.

She turns away from you and resumes making your sandwich. Catching your gaze, she smiles slightly and bends over again, thrusting her fat ass in your direction. She sways it back and forth, slowly. God, you just want to grab her and fuck her.

Your cell phone buzzes urgently again.

You reach down and grab it from your pocket. Your eyes widen when you see the caller ID.

Mom?

Your heart skips a beat. Your neck itches all of a sudden. She almost never calls you.

Lowering the volume on your phone, you answer it.

“Hello?”

She doesn’t answer right away. You hear her breathing softly.

“John?” she asks tentatively.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you say. “Um, is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I… I just came downstairs and your sister told me she couldn’t find you. Where are you?”

Huh. She actually sounds concerned. The usual anger or indifference in her voice is completely absent.

“I went outside to clear my head,” you glance over at Angela again. The naked MILF has just topped off your sandwich with the other piece of bread. She glances up at you, eyebrows raised. Is she asking you if you want her to leave the room?

You shake your head and hold up your hand. She nods, remaining in her position bent over the counter.

“Who is it?” she mouths.

Your mother starts talking before you can answer her.

“You mean, you went for a walk around the block or something?”

“Or something. Look, Mom,” Angela’s eyes widen comically. She moves to stand, but you raise your hand again. “Now’s not really a good time.”

Your mother is silent for a few moments.

“You mean you don’t want to talk to me?” she asks, actually sounding hurt. What the hell is going on with her? First she acts like she wants nothing to do with you. Now she’s upset you’re trying to get her off the phone? That’s a first.

“Uh, no. That’s not it. I’m just surprised you’re calling me after…” the kiss. “You know. I thought you’d want a little more time.”

“Oh, well I don’t. I… I want us to get together. And talk. We have a lot of things to discuss.”

You frown. She probably wants to set more boundaries with you. Or ridicule you for kissing her.

“Don’t I know it. I’m still penciled in for going to Sh-Jared’s house later. Maybe we can talk when I get back?”

“What time will that be?” she answers snappily, clearly unhappy.

“Let’s see. I have to be there around six…”

You’ve no idea how long the date with Sharon would last. You’d planned on staying the night over her house. Tonight is kind of a big deal for the two of you.

“That’s over two hours from now,” your mother points out. “More than enough time for us to have a little talk.”

Her voice softens as she continues speaking.

“Please, John. I really need to speak to you in person.”

Something about the tone of her voice makes you lower your head guiltily. You honestly can’t remember the last time she was like this. She’d never needed you before. Had never felt the need to be **** around you. It’s almost like she’s a completely different person.

Or, her opinion of you has done a complete one-eighty.

You lick your lips.

Meeting Angela’s still-astonished gaze, you relent.

“Fine, Mom. I’ll come home in a little bit. Just give me like half an hour to get back. I ended up going pretty far,” you lie.

You’re rewarded by a sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard before.

She actually giggles. And it makes her sound cute.

“That’s great! Thank you so much!” she practically gushes through the phone. “When we’re done, I’ll drive you to the Thompsons’ myself. Does that sound good?”

You chuckle.

“That’s perfect,” you say. “I love you, Mom.”

The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself. Stupid. She’d literally just distanced herself from you because you got too familiar with her.

“I love you too, baby,” she intones softly, and for a moment you imagine her plush lips are perched at the edge of your ear. Just what has gotten into her?

The two of you say your goodbyes and you hang up the phone, sliding it back in your pocket.

“Guess you aren’t staying for much longer, huh?” Angela sounds disappointed. “Damn, and I finally got you to agree to be my own personal peeping tom.”

You snort.

“Relax, Angela,” you move up behind her and grab her ass again, kneading her soft globes. She moans happily and smiles at you. “I’ve still got a good thirty minutes before Mom’s expecting me back.”

Her eyes look upon you deviously.

“Oh? Well, you’d better finish that sandwich then.”

“Yeah? Fine,” you pick it up off the plate and take a large bite. You nearly groan when you taste it. You’re not sure why it’s so amazing. It’s just a regular sandwich. Nothing you haven’t made yourself a million times. But you can’t help but enjoy it immensely. Maybe because someone had actually made it for you. “Mmm. Thwath’s gwud.”

Angela laughs.

“Oh my, what am I going to do with you?”

You put the sandwich back down, swallowing a mixture of salami, bread, and cheddar cheese. You look at Angela’s ass again. Fuck. You’d really like to wait until you’re sure she won’t react negatively, but you’ve got leverage over her. She’s clearly **** to have you around. Maybe that’ll be enough to forestall any protests from her in case your commands didn’t take.

One palm still on her ass, you use your other hand to unzip your fly and fish your cock out.

Angela’s eyes go wide as saucers. She stares at your cock for a long moment before looking back up at you.

“Um, what are you doing?”

You press your cock between her asscheeks. Your cockhead nudges the rim of her asshole.

She shivers. She stares up at you, a conflicted expression on her face.

“John, what the hell?”

“I’m just touching you, Angela. Isn’t that what you wanted?” You don’t know where your sudden confidence is coming from, but you can’t stop yourself. She’s been teasing you for so long.

She blinks.

“Yeah, but-”

You move your cock lower, resting the head against her pussy. It pulses against you.

“But what? You’re enjoying this, right?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Angela, there’s nothing sexual about what we’re doing together. You said so yourself.”

She nods.

“That’s right, I did,” she croaks. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

It takes you every ounce of your self-control to not just shake your head in amazement.

“Hey Angela, I’m about to touch the inside of your pussy with my dick. That’s okay, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathes. Her eyes don’t leave yours. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Why indeed?” you agree, patting her on the ass.

All it takes is a small shove. Your cockhead nudges her pussylips open, and within seconds you’re inside her.

She grunts and moans, but doesn’t tell you to pull out.

You rest for a few moments, allowing her to adjust to your intrusion.

She surprises you by thrusting her ass backward, shoving another inch or two of your thick cock inside her, a wide smile on her face as her eyes glow with rapturous pleasure.

Poor Mr. Hughes.

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