Having My Daughter's Boyfriend (Needy Moms Book 1) Read online

  Contents

  Having My Daughter's Boyfriend

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Continue Reading

  Having My

  Daughter’s

  Boyfriend

  Needy Moms 1

  Carrie Breeze

  Other works by Carrie

  Stepmom Vacation

  Got Jacked

  Pork

  Big Bad Stepbrother

  Stepbrother Lover

  Having My Daughter’s Boyfriend

  by Carrie Breeze

  Copyright © 2016 Carrie Breeze

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WORLDWIDE

  No part of this book may be copied,

  reproduced, or downloaded to the

  internet without prior written consent

  from the author.

  The characters and events portrayed

  in this book are fictitious and come

  Strictly from the mind of the author.

  All characters portrayed are 18+

  at the time of sexual activity

  Chapter 1

  “Mom, You’ve got to get out. Do stuff. Meet new people,” my daughter, Mariah, had been telling me ever since the divorce.

  Well, I finally agreed. Enough sitting around the house, moping, watching TV, gorging myself on chocolates and dreaming of hulks to come knocking on my door. True, I did have my realty business - Kate Lincoln Realty. But, let’s face it, selling houses doesn’t get you laid. Just tired. So, I enrolled in an art class at the local college. The same one Mariah goes to, only she’s studying journalism.

  “College is where I met Andre,” she said, speaking of her new boyfriend.

  “Tell me about this new boyfriend of yours. Is he someone I’d approve of?”

  “Oh, mom, you’re so old fashioned.”

  “Well, when am I going to meet him?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve invited Andre over tonight. Actually, he insisted upon meeting you. He said he thought it proper to get your ‘okay’ before diving into a relationship with me.”

  “Sounds like Andre is more old fashioned than I am, sweetie.”

  “Well, his parents came from a small village in France. Maybe that’s why.”

  “Oh, how interesting. Can’t wait to meet him. Listen, I got to run. Late for art class. Love you,” heading out the door.

  “Love ya, mom.”

  The art class started at eight. I rush into the small room about ten minutes late. There are about half a dozen other students - all college-age guys and girls. I tried to dress to look younger but just ended up looking like the mom of Velma from Scooby Do. Knee socks, pleated skirt, turtle-neck sweater, glasses, short dark hair. Everyone else in the room is casually dressed in jeans and sporty shirts. They’re all sitting in a semi-circle around the model. Busy sketching. They barely notice my entrance but I still feel self-conscious. At least the skirt hides my curvy hips.

  Today we’re doing nude sketches of a live subject. There’s one empty chair left - straight on center in front of the model. This heightens my self-consciousness but I have no choice. I take the chair, prop up my sketch pad on the easel and dig out my pencils. I fidget and drop the pencils. It’s only after I get settled and start to draw that I notice the model.

  It’s been over a year since I’ve even seen a naked man. That was Charles, before he left me for his secretary. Ugh, I push the painful memories from my mind.

  I’m ready to sketch.

  The model is a mere five feet away. Until now he’s been but a vague blurry shadow image stalking my peripheral vision. All I’ve been aware of is the slightly oiled sheen of his muscular contours. He’s doing a damn good job of impersonating Michelangelo’s David.

  Finally, I look up directly at him… into the face of the most gorgeous penis I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  His world-class cock is at eye level to me. A full seven inches long in its flaccid state, its thick shaft dangles between his two succulent testicles, each the size of ripe kiwis. The helmet of his cock head is a work of art - huge and gracefully shaped. I’m momentarily shell shocked. Pencil frozen in my fingers. Slack-jawed. I feel a tingling in my crotch. My urge is to leap out of my chair and wrap my lips around this beautiful piece of flesh.

  God, don’t do anything embarrassing. Why aren’t there seatbelts on this chair?

  I resist the magnetic pull of his cock and move my eyes up along his chiseled abs and granite chest. Slowly up over his tree trunk neck to his rock-jaw. His hair is dark and tousled, falling in waves to his powerful shoulders. In my mind, I run my fingers through his leonine mane. His piercing blue eyes are looking off at some distant horizon. He senses my gaze and drops his eyes down into mine. They twinkle like wet sapphires sending facets desire into my soul. My heart pounds as I sense them undressing me. A faint smile plays at the corners of his full sculpted lips. The tingle in my pussy warms my loins and I feel it spread throughout my body.

  Self-conscious, I break my trance. Nervously tuck a wayward strand of hair from my face to behind my ear, swallow the drool that was dangerously close to dripping from my lips and finally start on my sketch.

  I start with his amazing cock…. O-M-G. I could swear that when I first looked, it was seven inches. But now it seems to have grown a full inch. Eight inches and still not erect. He must be ginormous when fully hard.

  I lick my lips and start drawing his shaft, imagining my tongue licking him as my pencil scratches the paper. I fantasize gabbing him with my left hand, wrapping my slender fingers around his base, forcing more blood into his member. All his squiggly twisty veins pop out. I sketch them onto my pad, using the charcoal pencil for shading. I draw the length of his shaft and come to the head. For a full three-dimensional effect, I envision my lips sinking down over the tip of his cock. I take his head into my mouth and grope it with my tongue. It’s warm and firm. It’s texture is like that of my tongue. A total turn on. As I play with him my pelvis squirms. I secretly grind it into the seat of my chair while drawing his richly detailed penis head. I’m getting wet.

  Pulling my eye’s from my sketch pad to look at him, I find that his cock has yet grown another inch and it’s starting to arch out. My God, he’s starting to get an erection. Why? I look up at his face and his eyes are still on me. He’s turned on by me. Does he actually think I’m hot?

  I have to erase part of my sketch to make him larger. To capture his growing hardon. My panties are getting soaked. I’m glad I wore a skirt. Sneak a glance over at the wall clock.

  Shit. 8:51. Class will end soon. Have to meet this guy. See him again.

  “Okay, everyone,” the instructor says. “Time to wrap it up.”

  The model steps out of his David pose. His white terrycloth robe is draped across the back of a chair near the classroom wall.

  Think fast.

  He starts to stroll toward it.

  I quickly scribble my phone number on a corner of my sketch pad and tear it off.

  “Ah, excuse me,” I squeak, getting his attention just as he is about to grab his robe off the chair. He stops, turns and faces me, smiling like a god, just as I rush over to him. “I want to thank you for being such an awesome model.”

  “Why thank you, ma-am,” his voice like warm honey. “The pleasure was all mine. Hope you got a good sketch.”

  I’ve come up and stopped in front of him. Can’t believe I’m standing here talking to a totally naked hunk. The rest of the students are still at their easels putting on finishing touches. He and I are alone togethe
r. O.M.G. I sneak a glance down and see that he has gone instantly full-hard. God, he’s a full twelve inches! It’s true he is turned on by me. We’re standing so close his cock head, which is pointing at the ceiling, is brushing against my sweater. My warm plump tummy can feel him. The muscles in my thighs are quivering. My knees are jelly. This is the way school girls act, not thirty-nine-year-old divorced moms.

  Hand him your number before you faint.

  “Well, to tell you the truth,” blushing. “You’re so handsome I was kind of distracted and didn’t quite finish. But I’m talking too much. I don’t want to hold you up. So, umm, can I give you my number,” handing him the folded paper. His hardon pressing firmly against my belly as he takes it. He takes my hand into his, grasping me warmly and tenderly for a moment.

  “I’m flattered,” he says softly, smiling. “I hope we get a chance to meet again.” He looks at my number and then puts it in the pocket of his robe.

  “Bye,” I scurry back to my chair as he covers himself with the robe and exits the room.

  “You will be mine,” I whisper to myself as I gather my stuff, anticipating a long pleasurable rest of the morning with my vibrator.

  Chapter 2

  That night just before eight I’m in the kitchen dishing up spaghetti when I hear the front door open. Voices. Laughter.

  “Mariah, is that you?” I shout. I’m bent over, taking the garlic bread out of the oven.

  “Hi mom, meet Andre,” her voice inside the kitchen doorway. “Andre, my homemaker mom, Kate. Careful, she’s available. Don’t want her stealing you.”

  Laughter.

  I straighten up, cookie sheet in my oven-mitted right hand, and turn toward the doorway.

  Heart stops. Jelly knees.

  “Pleased to meet you, Kate….” His recognition of me broadens his smile. His sapphire eyes sparkle as he checks me out, undoubtedly thrilled at this revelation. My jaw drops. I flush. “Mariah, you never told me how lovely your mom is.”

  Heat wave.

  Andre is my gorgeous hunk from art class - he of the world class cock. I bite my lip, anticipating the chance to suck that massive tool. He’s carrying a bottle of wine. Walks in and sets it on the counter next to me.

  “Kate, Mariah has told me so much about what a wonderful mom you are,” taking my hand and kissing it.

  “Don’t you love him, mom? He’s so romantic. So European.”

  My heart jumps in my throat. Can’t speak. Just look on in dumb wonder as he opens the wine and pours us all glasses. Images of his beautiful naked body flash through my mind creating emotional havoc as I realize that same body has most likely made love to my daughter.

  We clink glasses. The wine helps relax me enough to carry the food out to the dining room table. Once everything is set, I’m seated at the end of the long oak table. Andre is around the corner on my left with Mariah on his other side.

  “Your so handsome, Andre. There must be dozens of girls fawning over you,” passing him the spaghetti sauce. “Mariah, dear, wouldn’t you get jealous?”

  “Andre and I talked about this very thing this afternoon, mom. We discussed the possibility of his having more than one girlfriend.”

  “Yes, it’s quite natural in my country,” forking up some spaghetti. “Mmm… you’re a wonderful cook, Kate.”

  “And I’m perfectly fine with that,” Mariah says, placing her hand on his, smiling, her closed mouth chewing. “Hey, it’s the twenty-first century.”

  “Do you have someone else, Andre?”

  “Moms,” Mariah shrugs, “Always nosey.”

  “No, not officially. However, I did see someone today that I wouldn’t mind getting to know,” his knee secretly brushing my thigh under the table.

  My heart races. I feel my cheeks flush. Fearing My daughter will notice, I take a large sip of wine.

  “Oh, what’s she like, sweetie?” Mariah asks, squeezing his hand.

  “A bit old fashioned actually, I think you’d like her, darling.”

  “How about you, Kate? Mariah tells me you’re divorced. Do you have a romantic interest?”

  “Not really. But I did see someone today who made my knees tremble. Like you said, someone I’d like to get to know…”

  A quizzical look comes over Mariah’s face. “Have you too met before?”

  Crap. I’m done for.

  “I don’t know, we might have bumped into each other in the art building this morning. Jealous, dear?” kissing her cheek. “Will you excuse me, the wine has filled my bladder,” pushing back his chair and standing.

  Mariah’s phone goes off. Sounds like one of her journalism classmates asking about a homework assignment.

  “I’ll sow you where the bathroom is,” getting up with Andre and leaving the room together. While he’s taking care of business I refill on wine in the kitchen. It’s making me ever more horny. I’ve got Andre-on-the-mind big time. I just want to barge into the bathroom, lock the door, and fuck his brains out right there before Miriah gets off the phone. It may be my only chance.

  The toilet flushes and the bathroom door opens. The hallway is narrow and dim. I meet him as he’s coming out.

  “Andre….” Don’t think. Just do it. I fake stumble against the leg of a small wall table and fall into his strong arms, planting my open mouth upon his sensuous lips. His lips part and I find his tongue. He tastes so sweet. “Mmm… I need you so bad,” I moan between deep soul kisses. My hand finds his crotch and latches on to his bulge. Through the fabric I feel every contour of his heavy thick cock. “I need you inside me,” I breath into his ear. “Now.”

  “Andre….” Mariah’s voice from the dining room.

  “Kate, we mustn’t,” he whispers huskily, breaking our embrace, his eyes penetrating mine, the twinkle in them really saying, “I want you, too.”

  Sour pangs of displaced desire tear my heart making me feel like a kid who’s been denied a much longed for toy. I must not give up. Don’t pout. Don’t let Mariah read you. I release Andre and follow him back into the dining room.

  “Mom, you’re all flushed. What have you been doing?”

  “I think I’ve had too much wine. I tripped and your dashing boyfriend saved me.”

  “Mom, you are such a klutz.”

  “Who was on the phone?”

  “My journalism instructor. Says my latest paper needs major editing. Sorry, mom. We’ve got to run. He needs my revision by midnight.”

  “Well before you go, will you be able to help me tomorrow? I’ve got a new client who needs her house put on the market in two days and it still needs some touch-up paint work.”

  “Sorry, mom. Classes all day and a new reporting assignment. Andre, mom’s in the realty business. Always fixing up other people’s houses.”

  “I’m free all day,” he says. “Why don’t I fill in for you, darling?”

  “Oh, that would be so sweet.”

  “He is an art major with a focus on painting….”

  “I won’t make any promises. Never done house painting. However… if I give it maybe, say a Rembrandt touch… perhaps you could get a few thousand more from the buyer.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Just make sure he doesn’t turn it into a Picasso, mom,” laughing.

  “I make no promises.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be superb. Do you want to drop by here in the morning, then? Say ninish?”

  “I’ll pick up coffee on the way.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “C’mon, Andre, we got to go. Love ya.”

  “Love you, sweetie,”

  Chapter 3

  I will not fuck Andre.

  I will not fuck Andre.

  I will not fuck Andre.

  This mantra runs through my mind as I run to answer the door. I love Mariah too much to ruin her new relationship.

  But, my heart jumps out of my throat as I swing the door open. Andre is standing like a god with the morning sunshine glowing behind him. It’s as if he’d just stepp
ed out of a CK add, the way he exudes sex appeal in his white muscle shirt and snug blue jeans.

  “Good morning, Kate. How are you feeling?” His gaze penetrates me and my knees quiver.

  “Pretty good considering I overdid it a bit with the wine last night,” the words coming out in gasps. Take it easy. Calm down, relax. Take slow, deep breaths.

  “Well, I hope this will help,” holding up two large to-go cups of coffee. “Nothing but the finest. From the Twin Cities’ best - High Plains Coffee.” He strolls in filling the air with his man scent. Makes me nearly cream my panties. He’s got that freshly fucked look with his glowing skin and unruly hair. I catch a whiff of my daughter’s pussy on him. They must have enjoyed a delicious fuck right before he hopped in the car to come over. Jealousy burns in my chest.

  “Let’s sit in the kitchen a while,” closing the door and following him in. “I think we should have a quick chat about last night.”

  We pull up chairs at the small table and sip our coffee.

  “Mmm… French vanilla. How did you know?”

  “Just one of the many things Mariah has told me you like.”

  “Speaking of my daughter. I’m so glad you two have found each other and I would hate to do anything to come between you. It’s obvious I’m totally taken by your good looks and charm….”

  “And make no mistake, Kate, you have also had a powerful effect on me,” gently touching my hand.

  “So, what I’m about to ask is… well, it’s hard… battling passionate longings. So, it’s hard. But, it’s for the good. Please, please, promise me, no matter how much I fawn over you, you won’t fuck me today. There, it’s out,” taking a large sip of coffee. “You and Mariah make a good couple and I don’t want my urges to ruin that.”

  “Kate, believe me, I promise you I won’t do anything to jeopardize our relationship,” his eyes piercing me. “You have my word on that.”