The Peterson Family

Mrs. Peterson

Part I

The Peterson family opened their home to me during my first semester of graduate school after I practically stumbled into Mark Peterson’s office. Professor Peterson, the patriarch of the family, is my advisor and has shown  a substantial amount of pity on me because of my international student status and the fact that I was dead broke. I came to the United States after I graduated high school to attend a small liberal arts college and play soccer. After my athletic career ended, I realized how babied I’d been by the athletic department during my undergraduate years.

To be honest, I was always a better soccer player than I was a student; but, I am fully aware of the fact that I need to further my degree to get the career I want.

I enrolled in a Mass Communications masters program and met Professor P. during orientation. He was an athlete in college and it was obvious that he tried to keep up with the regimen. We talked about the good ol’ days until I mentioned that I was about to give up on the whole graduate school dream. I received my first financial statement of the semester and between student housing and the ridiculous meal plan, I wasn’t going to be able to afford it.

Sadly, I was already planning out my life as a social media manager for my dad’s small business. He would love that he son was back home and my mother would be able to resume her overbearing nature.

Professor Peterson was understanding of my situation and explained that he, and his wife, had a pool house behind their home. The Peterson’s never rented out previously, and it was mainly unused, so he invited me to stay with them. After a brief discussion with my mother, I dropped my meal plan and Uni housing and moved my belongings into the place.

I’ve lived with Professor Peterson since—not even going home for the summer, much to my mother’s aggravation. I’m in my last semester, about to graduate and really start my life. I’m in the process of applying for a work visa because I was offered a job at a great publishing house. Of course, it’s a low-level job but it’s a stepping stone to the career I want—promoting authors and books through social media.

Graduation was so close that I could taste it–just two more exams until I was officially done. I was resting up for my next exam tomorrow, even though I think it should be illegal to force students to take exams at 7 a.m. on Monday morning.

If I was being optimistic, life was working out.

Up until the moment that I woke up with Mrs. Peterson’s lips around my erect cock.

I was having a great dream about this pretty little blonde in my International Social Media Marketing course that I’d been flirting with all semester. The truth is, I was saving her for my graduation party next Saturday. I never had a problem with getting women. Between my accent and the fact that I had the lithe body of an athlete, I never truly went without sex And Sarah was fucking hot and had the ass of an angel. In my dream, she was bobbing up and down on my dick with such fervor that I was about to explode down her perfect throat.

The sleep faded from my mind and soon I was opening my eyes to find Mrs. Peterson going to town on me. The woman had thrown the quilt my mother hand sewed for me on the ground. Her perfectly manicured hand was wrapped around my shaft and she was giving me her all. “What–what the fuck?” I nearly yelled because I was shocked. Not once had Mrs. Peterson given me any indication that she would be doing something like this.

She lifted her head from my dick and practically rolled her eyes, “Oh, hush Daniel.”

I could barely process what was going on and I’m not sure if it was because of how horny I was, or how exhausted I was from being woken up from my mid-afternoon nap. Her lips brushed against the wet head of my cock before I jumped out of the bed in alarm. My erection was painful and I knew I would cum on the wall of the shower as soon as I was alone. The problem was, I wasn’t sure I would still be thinking about Sarah when I came.

Mrs. Peterson looked like a MILF. The woman was sitting on her knees, staring at me with a smirk on her saliva covered mouth. I wanted to moan just looking her. She was wearing a silky white blouse that was unbuttoned half way and her black cherry hair cascaded around her shoulders. Any man that looked at her would never know that she had a child that was sixteen–and quite annoying–or that she was anything less than a model.

I could see most of her black lace bra, and her hard nipples under the see-through material. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering down to look at the hiked up pencil skirt around her thighs. I could see her bare pussy and I wanted nothing more than to ram my cock into it as she screamed.

“Fuck!” I groaned as I ran my hand through my blonde hair. My mind was telling me to get away from her but my dick was telling me to give into the game she was playing.

Mrs. Peterson purred and I knew that I’d lost.  “I’m trying, Mr. Ashton. I’ve been wanting your big cock in this pussy since the day you moved in.” I groaned, closing my eyes because of the chills running up my spine. A part of me felt wrong for feeling this way about her. Up until now, I’d only fucked women my age. Strictly my age. I never once dabbled in the fantasy of an older woman but the way that she looked, I couldn’t remember why I hadn’t before.

The worst part was I didn’t have the luxury of thinking about how wrong it was that I was going to cum all over my mentor’s wife. I moved back to her slowly and I saw the grin stretch across her features. Mrs. Peterson knelt down and grabbed my cock once more. Her quick pace made me groan. After a few tugs, she returned to blowing me. I found pleasure in the way that she gagged on me in a caveman type of way.

Before I could process what I was doing, I was pushing her back against the bed. Mrs. Peterson was as shocked as I was when her body hit the gray sheets of my bed. Her red tinted hair fanned around her face. The entire moment looked like a scene from premium porn. I stepped between her legs, feeling the smooth skin around my bare hips. Her luscious tits were pushing out her flimsy bra and I couldn’t resist the temptation to pull the material away from her skin. I punched one of her nipples hard, just to test the waters and she moaned with a smile on the corner of her lips.

“You’re a fucking freak, aren’t you?” My hoarse voice was a surprise.

“Yes, baby.” Mrs. Peterson purred with delight.

The way my cock was throbbing, I knew I didn’t have much time before I let go completely.  I quickly shoved my fingers into her soaking wet pussy and pumped them earnestly. Her hips rolled as she tried to ride them, looking for her own climax like a greedy little vixen.

I withdrew my fingers, wanting to tease her for the games she’s been playing, and replaced them with my cock. Mrs. Peterson inhaled sharply as I bottomed out in one thrust. I started to fuck her fast and hard. The bed moved with my every thrust. Mrs. Peterson was not a quiet woman and I could tell I was hitting it just right for her.

Mrs. Peterson was driving me crazy with her dirty talk and oh-so-earned praise.  “Oh god, oh fuck. Oh fuck. Fuck me. Fuck me, Daniel.”

Right when I was about to cum inside of her, I pulled out and cover her white shirt with my cum. I shut my eyes tightly as I came down from the amazing high. Mrs. Peterson laid with her legs open around my body while she collected herself. I couldn’t help but smile down at her when she gave me a smirk.

She pushed me away from her and smoothed down her skirt. “Thanks for that Daniel.” She brushed past me, dipping her finger in my cum and slipping it into her mouth. “Next time, I’ll taste you as you cum in my mouth.”

Next time?

Fuck.