Sharing the MILF List Ch. 04

Mom continued. "I know you boys are not old enough but at this soiree the drinking limit is often waved. No one is going to accept any complaints of underage drinking here, what with the Mayor, several commissioners and the Chief of Police here and all." She squeezed my leg. "That is the least of anyone's worries!"

She was more right than she knew. Landon and I went to the crowd cloud around the Champaign bar to get booze for our broads and emerging from the clump came face to face with Darlene Emerson. Darlene was two years younger than us, eighteen for sure. Certainly not old enough to drink, though. The man whose arm she held was emphatically too old for her. He had steel gray hair and yes, a monocle. I almost stared.

Darlene smiled and curtsied, releasing the man's arm. "Gentleman, so nice to see you this evening. Allow me to introduce Gottfried Von Strumberg, he is from Germany, visiting our fair city. Gottfried, dear, could you get us both a glass of the bubbly." When the man glared at her, Darlene smiled prettily, "the Champaign, dear, the Champaign." The man moved off through the crush and she took us both by the arms. Her face was red. "What are YOU two doing here?"

Landon and I looked at each other. "We came with our mothers."

Darlene looked mortified. She was barely recognizable. Her mother was a famous recluse, well-heeled said the rumors but repressed and dominating from behind a curtain of gray and black, a sort of local version of the good Queen Victoria. Her children were polite, equally repressed and shy though utterly brilliant. Each of Abigail Emerson's five children exceeded academic excellence and went on to great renown in various fields which I paid no attention to. Darlene was the youngest. She usually wore her fine brown hair straight but tonight and dressed like Little Bo Peep—truly! She wore a bonnet to high school the first day. Despite the best efforts to the contrary, no matter what she wore, her breasts projected a sexual invitation nothing else about her echoed and no amount of disguise could refute. However, before us stood a woman who seemed to be trying too hard to look older than her 18 years. She was shorter than me by perhaps four inches but thick of body with large hips but a pleasantly narrow waist. She had brown hair, large breasts, and thick but shapely legs. The most striking thing about her, however, was her white, perfect, translucent skin and the delicately pink, fully sensuous lips. She was coiffed, rouged and dabbed with eye shadow and liner but her manner was of a worldly woman, well-schooled in the erotic arts. Neither Landon or I ever considered the possibility that Darlene Emerson knew what erotic arts were but we would presently discover we were very wrong on that score. She denied her sensuality in all things to that point.

Now, however, the efforts at denial were utterly absent. She wore a short, tight black dress, high heels and black stocking with some scene woven into them. I could make out a horse and buggy along the flat side of her voluptuous thigh which the short black dress did not cover. Her thick lips were a red so bright, they could have been electrified. Her breasts were on full display through the gauzy black fabric, bare, without bra. I could see her huge aureoles clearly through the diaphanous fabric and could not help myself; I stared at her luscious breasts. The skirt did not obscure the darkness of her pubic forest or dim the light shining between her legs from behind her. Her body was fully outlined, highlighted and primed to be fucked. Nothing about her ignored that possibility or even attempted to suggest she intended anything other than to spend a grunting passion filled moment on her fair back with her legs parted and her feet in the air for the man behind the monocle.

"Come with me!" Darlene grabbed us by the arms and pulled us away from the crowd into a small gallery where small naked statues were on display, back lit on ruby or forest colored red velvet covered pedestals. "You cannot tell anyone you saw me here. I will blow both of you if you promise not to tell!"

I glanced at Landon and together we nodded. The offer was so sudden and so out of character for this girl whom we thought to be repressed and innocent, destined to an intellectual but sexless greatness despite her erotic appeal, neither of us had the presence of mind to resist the wash of circumstances she seemed to be surfing with sensuous ease and sureness.

Darlene got to her knees and undid Landon's pants and pulled his swelling cock out of his fly. The tight skirt rode up her legs, showing her pale buttocks and their deep, full crease. She engulfed Landon's cock with her mouth, taking him deep immediately. The girl was no innocent child, apparently. Landon groaned. He looked at me and waved me away. He still held his two glasses of Champaign in his trembling hands. He drank one and looked daggers at me. I left with my fetched Champaign. I took the two glasses to the women who were standing in mutual silence at the balcony. I begged off to go to the restroom where Landon had presumably preceded me and wove through the murmuring crowd.

I got back to the chamber to find Landon's cock planted in Darlene. She was bent over, holding onto a column, her face turned towards the fetching little bronze of a naked Eve. The miniature female origin of all sin was staring into the eyes of the serpent as she bit into the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Darlene's 'hide nothing' black dress was bunched around her waist and Landon held her by the hips and was pounding her pussy hard from behind. Darlene was grunting and moaning. She looked over at me and winced into her climax, biting her lips and crying out quietly into the muted silence.

Landon moaned, shoved full into her and came with her. After a pregnant pause, he withdrew his cock from her pussy and wiped it on her inner thigh. They smelled of sex, satisfying, fulfilling sex. She looked back at Landon. "You promised. He will not tell on me!" Then she looked me and smiled. "Foreplay!" She said brightly and straightened, smoothing her black skirt.

Landon nodded, busy tucking his spent cock back into his pants. Darlene rearranged her dress turned and leaned into him and kissed him, on the lips. She left a distinct impression of red lipstick on his mouth. She opened her purse, took out a hanky and dabbed and wiped at his lips till they were clean of her kiss. She flounced away, no sign of the repressed brainiac which was her reputation in high school. Her thighs glinted with the liquid of love draining out of her cunt.

Landon quickly explained what had just happened. She was an eighteen year old high school senior and apparently she was hooking. Her father lost their money in the market and she had to hook to make up the loss of her college fund. It sounded thin to me and where did she find the time to explain all that to him with her mouth full of cock but Landon seemed content to believe it and since he had gotten sex from her for both of us, I was willing to leave well enough alone. After all, I had fucked his mother—one might say this was balanced by his cock being inside my mother but somehow it did not seem equal, even to me. Nonetheless, he swore me to silence and we went to meet our respective mothers. Something about his manner seemed curious but I left it alone. We had other fish to fry, or as the case was, other women to take. The MILF List was not about being equal anyway, God does not create people equal, Brent was proof of that. I snickered and followed Landon out of the gallery.

By the break between Act 2 and Act 3 the atmosphere had thawed some among the four of us. Landon was edgy when he saw his mother on our return, his cock wet from Darlene's welcome bribe. We chatted and drank till the lights flickered and we returned to our seats. We sat and I began to stroke Kyla's thigh in the dark. She eventually put her hand on my wrist and pulled my hand up her leg, beneath her pale green chiffon till I could feel the dampness of her cunt. I thought of my mother next to me and at that very moment distinctly heard my mother sigh and felt a shiver travel from her body to mine through the point where our shoulders touched in the narrow seats. I don't think it was the drama trilling before us on stage eliciting her response.

I turned my hand and stroked Kyla's pussy and entered her with a finger. Her fingers tightened on my wrist, holding me in place while her hips shifted the smallest motion, up and down on my finger. After an hour of this Kyla was quivering and I was hard as the proverbial rock. We were all thirsty when the second act came to an end. Mom was flushed when the house lights came up and Kyla walked like she was drunk. She had not made a sound but her fingernails left marks on my wrist through the tux. I tried to put my arm around her waist but she pulled away and made it clear she would not have me squeezing her ass with her son so close. Her eyes glittered when our gazes met and I saw the hunger in her.

We again got Champaign and stood at the balcony not talking but looking down on the Champaign-less proletariat below. I feared Kyla was either horrified or furious, I could not tell which; likely furious if she thought I had anything to do with the situation so more likely horrified as I felt confident she had not determined that this was my doing. This, in retrospect was silly, of course she had to suspect something fishy but she did not acknowledge any suspicion even once the event was over. So I went blissfully through the night believing I was clever.

Mom talked to Landon and treated him like an escort, flirting with him mercilessly and rubbing her breasts against him like a forward school girl who did not have the personality to play hard-to-get. Kyla watched with an inscrutable gaze but at one point she took hold of my hand. I took that opportunity to slip that arm around her waist and pulled her close, sliding my hand down onto her ass. She flinched. That was the moment when Mr. D'Arnot appeared.

"Why, Kyla, so nice to see you? Who is this fine specimen of the male race on your arm?"

Kyla glanced at Mom and then said, "This is Sonny."

I shook the man's hand. D'Arnot looked inquiringly at my mother.

"And this is my friend, Cici Duncan and her friend, Landon."

Landon shook the man's hand.

"You are a lovely woman and deserve the attention of such a handsome young man!" D'Arnot said to my mother after he kissed her hand. He winked. "Clever to bring your 'sons' to this event. Would I had a 'daughter' to expose to such rampant culture." He winked again. "You are planning to come to the L'Argent for the afterparty, yes?"

Kyla shook her head but a new voice shocked her still.

"Why, Mrs. Clark! So delighted to see you out to introduce our youth to the elicit joys of Verdi."

We all turned to find a handsome man with white hair and another monocle in his eye along with an unlit cigarette in a fancy cloisonné holder.

"Mr. Kipperstam." Kyla said softly. "Lovely to see you this evening."

Kipperstam was the name of the Senior Partner of the city's leading legal firm. He looked the part.

"I did not catch your answer. You are going to join us all at the L'Argent, won't you, please?" Mr. Kipperstam spoke, his voice a soft, fatherly lilt that was calming in its essence and effect.

Kyla nodded and after catching my mother's eye, Mom nodded with her. I did not know who this man was but clearly he had some importance in the Clark Cosmos. Even Landon shrank, turning away. I wondered if the man knew them; they clearly knew him but neither seemed to worry about a misunderstanding.

Mr. D'Arnot beamed. "Great, bring your er, friends, please. In fact, Kyla darling, I think we have a suite leftover which I would love for you to take as a gift. We wanted to fill the place but not with strangers so we donated most of the upper floors to the Opera committee and they auctioned them off to help raise money. I would love for you both to share the suite tonight. That way you all can drink the L'Argent's fine selection of liquor and not need to drive! I will send someone to find you and give you both keys. It has separate bedrooms so it will prove quite discreet." And he fluttered away, like a big butterfly.

Kyla remained with my arm indiscreetly around her waist, massaging her ass while she talked to Mr. Kipperstam. Clearly he had done business with Anthony Clark. They discussed his current project and his persistent lobbying in the capitol for development clearance for the new section of the University he was advocating for. They discussed the prospects in some detail and finally, he smiled and clasped her hand in both of his and departed, smiling into her eyes with a fatherly gaze. I wondered if his teeth were that perfect or if he took them out to sleep. His blue eyes were sharp and clear. I doubt he missed anything despite his smarmy manner.

Before parting, Mr. Kipperstam leaned into her and said with a glint in his startling blue eyes, "Clever to have these young gentlemen use your sons' names. If anyone asks, you were seen at the opera with your sons. You and Cici are bold women. I approve! Such handsome young men for you both! I am almost jealous. Most discreet, my dear, most discreet! Do enjoy the remainder of your evening, my dear, please do!" Then he was gone, his august presence seeming to drift away while acknowledging the many faces he recognized in the crowd.

Without discussing the new plans for the evening, we returned to our seats for the third act. The rest of the opera passed and Kyla wept at the end. I ran a hand up between her legs again and she completely broke down, weeping or something on my shoulder while opening her legs for my invading fingers. She gasped when I stroked her but the house lights came up before she came and I had to leave her hanging. She groaned and lifted her head from my shoulder, dabbing at her eyes while the aroma of her arousal wafted about us. She was alternately anxious and wistful.

We agreed to take separate cars to the L'Argent with arrangements to meet in the lobby before going up to the party. I parked the car myself, eschewing valet service. I opened the door and when she got out I pinned Kyla against the car with an insistent kiss. She squirmed for a moment before looping her arms around my neck and returning the kiss with her own twist. She opened my pants. I lifted her dress and entered her. Her green dress with its drapes and folds at once separated and revealed her naked body, providing stimulating access. I took her against the car till headlights halted us. In the glaring light we stilled and then turned our faces away till the dark returned. We righted ourselves and walked to the hotel entrance both panting with the interruption. Kyla panted and walked funny till the doorman opened the door for us. She did not speak till we saw Cici Duncan and Landon across the huge lobby. I laughed, thinking 'Cici Duncan' in my mind instead of 'Mom' or magnificent MILF or whatever. She did look glorious, sexy as hell and glowing with her own version of Kyla's discomfiture.

Kyla gripped my arm and whispered. "Please, let's get through this and I will do whatever you want. I have to impress these people. It is important for Tony." She hesitated and said much more softly, "and for me."

I wanted to ask if we were in a bind but wondered why she had not spoken of it in the car, which had been all silence and stoic calm. Perhaps she had been thinking what was to be done about this unfolding drama. She took my hand and pulled me to join Mom and Landon. I do not know what Landon did to her but Mom had the look of someone who just found perfection in a mundane world. I think the proper word is 'ecstatic' but that might be too clever by half. Mom air kissed with Kyla and we found the elevator and the party in short order. We crowded into the elevator and I felt the closeness of both women. For a moment the unreality of the situation washed over me and I shivered, scared and excited mixed together.

The party throbbed with loud crowd noises and sparkled, replete with splendor, youth and money. I saw a dusky woman being molested by an insistent young man in the wings of the stage where the band played an eclectic mix of music only someone hopelessly out of touch with the current culture would select. The music was old, classic but good music despite that. We got a table, drinks and something confectionary and sat and ate. Mr. Kipperstam found us with a wispy little blond thing on his arm acting all innocent and demure but with the eyes of a shark. She did not speak but I wondered if she spoke Russian better than English. The yellow dress bound her body like a bedsheet knotted by the drier. I felt Kyla relax when he moved away.

Kyla looked at Landon. "I do not think he recognized you. How long has it been since he saw you?"

Landon struggled. "I think I still had short hair and pants. Don't worry Mom, he was looking down Cici's dress the whole time he was here. I doubt he noticed either Sonny or I." He stared at a couple who appeared to be having sex on the dance floor and abruptly bent around my mother and kissed her hard on the lips. After a startled moment, Mom put her hand to the back of his head and made the scene unanimous.

Rather than sit there before the molestation of my own mother, I asked Kyla to dance and pulled her into the writhing throng. We danced gracefully and well together for a while till a soft slow number sealed us together and I found myself kissing her hard while massaging her ass with both hands. She did not resist but seemed about ready to bare my pole and climb onto it. I turned her towards the band and pulled her skirt up to show her ass and I know the drummer noticed. The music changed and we returned to the table to find my mother and Landon still in a lover's clasp. Kyla stared throughout our approach and I thought she would intervene when we sat down. Landon's hand was clearly between mom's legs and they seemed about ready to take the matter to the floor. Each time Landon came up for air, Mom's hand would pull his mouth back to hers and they would resume their mutual body search.

I about joined them but Mr. D'Arnot materialized from out of the crowd. Beside him strode a tall sparkling woman with brown-red hair. She was a striking woman and acted as if she knew it. Her breasts were tucked inside the glittering dress with the V descending nearly to her belly button. She was nearly a head taller than her husband who introduced her to us. Her cool eyes met my gaze easily. Her face was smooth and brown. When I smiled, she did not even blink as her husband introduced her.

"Kyla my dear, you remember Vivien?"

The two women oozed through the social greetings. Landon released Mom. Mom's eyes were glazed and she had to adjust her dress to get her breasts under control. Mr. and Mrs. D'Arnot stared down on them appreciatively. Then Vivien turned her glittering pale eyes to me.

Mr. D'Arnot nodded to us all. "I am doing some rearranging to accommodate you, Mrs. Clark. I hope you do not mind waiting?" He shrugged with an expressive smile. "We have had, a, a communication problem within the staff but I am certain we will be able to work it all out. I will have someone bring you all room keys as soon as the matter is sorted."

I did not know what he meant but I got hard when I thought of a hotel room and about Kyla on her back, me between her eager, open legs. I was distracted when Vivien spoke to me.

"Dear boy, won't you ask me to dance? It is the price of the suite." She smiled but failed to make a joke of the statement, leaving the meaning as naked as the lust in her gaze. There was nothing subtle about Vivien D'Arnot. "I saw you dancing with the lovely Mrs. Clark and see you have the skill it takes to steer a woman safely through a crowd."