Nate’s Summer#16 The Mayor’s Mother

The Mayor asked Nate to stop by; her mother met him instead. All characters are over 18. Category: Mature

After I had jumped the fence from Mrs. Su's backyard, I saw Mom standing in the living room, watching me through the window with her arms crossed under her breasts. Sheepishly, I opened the sliding glass door and entered the house. Mom wore a long-sleeved, thin polyester top with vertical stripes of blue, white, and yellow, paired with yellow pants.

Her blonde hair was fashioned in the ABBA-hairstyle, with the ends curled under toward her ears. She looked a lot better than she had the last time I saw her, passed out from drinking two bottles of wine after she kicked Dad out of the house. Not that I blamed her; Mom had caught my Dad fucking my prom date on Mom's bed. I was pretty unhappy with Dad, myself.

I was hobbling since I picked up a splinter in my big toe when I climbed over our wooden privacy fence. My shoes were still in Mrs. Su's house since I had to jump out of her bedroom window when her daughter, one of my classmates, had shown up from work just after Mrs. Su and I had finished fucking.

Mrs. Su, a proper Asian lady, had insisted that I remove my shoes when she invited me into the house after I had used her pool, but her daughter ended up being between me and my shoes when I had to exit hurriedly.

Mom had a disapproving look as I slid the sliding door shut, then she let me have it. "What were you doing on the other side of the fence, Mister? And why don't you have any shoes on? Were you swimming in the neighbor's pool uninvited?"

That question put me in a dilemma. If I answered truthfully that Mrs. Su invited me over to cool off with a swim after my workout, it would lead to a bunch of questions from Mom, since, to my knowledge, our family had never interacted with the Su family, so why was a stranger inviting me into her pool?

If I lied and said I jumped over the fence to swim in the pool because I didn't think anyone was home, that might actually fly, but I still had to explain where my shoes were. Since I was sure Mrs. Su would put an admission that she invited me over into the "kiss and tell" category, I went with the little white lie.

"I was overheated, Ma, and the pool was right there, so I hopped the fence and swam around. It did not seem like anyone was home, but I heard a car drive up, so I got out fast and got back over the fence." Here I faked some sincerity. "I left my shoes over there, though." Which was true, but not the whole story.

Mom peered at me closely, like she always did when she confronted me about something, her arms still crossed, and her chin lifted a little, looking down her nose at me while the lie detector in her brain was doing its work, tapping her foot in her white pedal pushers.

She made a decision, uncrossing her arms and picking up her white leather purse. "Ok, Nate. Be careful doing that kind of thing. We don't know those people; they could be crazy Symbolese Liberation types, who would kill you or kidnap you or something." She pulled the purse handles up onto her shoulder, tucking the purse under her arm.

"I am going over to my divorce lawyer's office to sign some contracts and whatnot." She walked toward me and kissed my cheek. "Thank you so much for coming home and being with me last night. What your Dad did with your girlfriend, sorry, ex, was just terrible, almost as bad as me having to watch it on my own bed."

She trailed off, and I stepped to her side so I could rub her back through her thin blouse. "I am sorry about that, Ma." She wore one of her industrial-duty bras, which I had seen in the wash, one with four eyes and hooks to hold up her DD Cup breasts, heavy like Meemaw's.

I was starting to daydream about Aunt Peggy, Meemaw, and (gulp) Mom, when Mom snapped me back into the real world with another question. "Did you and Peggy have a chance to talk after I fell asleep? I am sorry I was such a party pooper, but I was tired after all the trauma, and everything, so I don't remember much after you got in from Nana's."

I was certainly not going to say that the real reason she could not remember anything was because she had downed at least two bottles of wine with Aunt Peggy before I got home, and had kept drinking until she passed out. That was all to the good, since she apparently did not remember her and Aunt Peggy hugging me in a big titty sandwich, which caused my hard-on to spring up and poke Mom in the belly. Mom fell back from me onto the sofa, outraged, then almost immediately went to sleep.

Aunt Peggy and I had arranged Mom on the couch to sleep it off, then gone outside to chat. One thing led to another, and we ended up fucking in my sister's treehouse. I certainly was not going to say anything about that, either.

"Yeah, Ma, Aunt Peggy told me stories about you when you were a kid, how you all called her Sandra Dee and stuff."

Mom smiled at the "Sandra Dee" reference, but it was a pained smile. "That is good, Dear. Now kiss your mother." She took a deep breath. "I have to do this. For my sake, and for yours. I hope you can understand that, someday." When she got to the door, she turned and said, "I am going to stop in to see Reverend Sponset and maybe Mrs. Sponset. They always give me such good advice."

I froze when I heard that she was going to see the Sponsets. Only a few weeks ago, I had boffed Mrs. Sponset in her living room, and almost got caught by Mrs. Sponset's daughter. If Mrs. Sponset had a pang of conscience or something and confessed all to my Mom, I could be in trouble. But there was nothing I could do about that right at the moment, so I shrugged to myself.

Kissing her on the cheek, I said, "Sure, Mom. I love you." She patted me on the shoulder and walked out the door into the carport, got into her car, and drove off.

Heading to my room, I glanced at the kitchen clock and noticed it was almost 12:30. Oh, no! The Mayor told me the day before to meet her at her home office after lunch today, since she would not be going into City Hall.

I shook my head, not really believing what I had gotten myself into. Through a series of events, I ended up at the lesbian Chief of Police's house, fucking her, then was interrupted mid-ejaculation by the Mayor, her sister. Not only did that result in me spunking on the Mayor's face, but I also ended up making love to her a couple of times, orchestrated by the Chief, who used me to blackmail her sister, the Mayor.

Which reminded me...The Chief had taken a couple of Polaroids of me and the Mayor having sex to blackmail her sister, then hid them when the Mayor and I were putting our clothes back on. But I swiped one of the snapshots before I left the Chief's house and had hidden it in my room when I got home. I reminded myself to take it along to my meeting with the Mayor. It might be worth something to her.

Anyway, I ran to the bathroom to shower quickly to get the chlorine from Mrs. Su's pool out of my hair, and to get Mrs. Su's pussy secretions off my cock and balls. I threw on a pair of jeans and a blue Munsingwear penguin polo, along with my topsiders.

Then I pulled the picture from my secret stash behind a piece of molding under my bed and put it in my back pocket. I ran to my car, hoping that getting to the Mayor's place at 1:15 wouldn't be too late.

I knew the way to Mayor Snyder's house since I had taken her daughter, Susan, to the prom. It was a big place, surrounded by a wall that backed up to the river, with a narrow alley separating the back wall from the riverbank. Mayor Snyder told me to park back there and come through the wall to her home office. The house and grounds were once known as the Zimmerman mansion, after the wealthy family from back in the past who once ran the town. It seemed like they still did, since Mayor Snyder's maiden name was Zimmerman, and her sister, the Police Chief, was Chief Zimmerman.

There was a gravel shoulder near the river where I could park my Olds 88, 20 yards down from the gate in the wall. The Mayor told me she would leave the gate unlocked. The gate was wooden, covered by a small shingled roof. My study of vocabulary words when I was prepping for the SAT taught me that the name for that kind of opening in a wall was a lychgate.

Passing through the lychgate, I closed and relatched it and walked through the garden toward the house, which was about 50 yards away. The walkways, made of pea gravel, were situated between professionally maintained flower and vegetable beds. Admiring the flowers and dodging the bees that swarmed the blooming plants, I made it to a solid door of the house on the right wing.

There was one of those black-and-red signs tacked to the door that said PRIVATE, and a large picture window next to it with the Venetian blinds open. Through the window, I could see the back of a leather sofa, a desk with a pen set in the middle beyond the couch, and behind the desk, a much larger version of those pictures of Mayor Snyder that were all over town.

The picture was of Mayor Snyder from the waist up, with her basketball-sized bazooms filling the middle of the image and her professionally coiffed, voluminous black hair framing her pleasant, smiling face. She was an attractive woman, but I snickered at the thought of the time at dinner when Dad said something about "The pictures of our big-titty Mayor all over town." Mom was shocked and told him to shut up, but I couldn't help but laugh.

The lights were off in the office, and the door was locked. I tried turning the brass knob on the door a couple of times, but the office was sealed tight. I was standing there, staring at the PRIVATE sign, wondering what I should do, when I heard a voice off to the side.

"Hello, young man, may I help you?"

Turning, I saw a woman a few flower beds away from me, standing under a tree, wearing a blue dress with long sleeves that had been rolled up. The hem of the dress fell below her knees. She wore a solid tan hat with a wide brim that they called a "pith helmet" in the World War II movies on the late show. She was wearing chukka boots and cloth gardening gloves, both of which were covered in dirt from the bed she had been digging with the hand spade she was holding.

The pith helmet mostly hid her shoulder-length gray hair. Her tanned, lined face looked very much like an older version of the mayor, but the feature that really brought out the resemblance was her enormous breasts. Admittedly, they were the size of the Mayor's, but they hung much lower, apparently supported by the belt on her dress, just above her waist.

Given the resemblance to the Mayor, and the older woman's grandmotherly hips and what promised to be a gigantic backside, I figured this was Mrs. Zimmerman, the mother of the Mayor and Police Chief.

Chief Zimmerman had described her mother the day before as "72 years old," which sounded right, and "250 pounds," which seemed off by at least 50. Mrs. Zimmerman was sturdy and formidable and tall, but she was not nearly as heavy as Mrs. Bondra nor as tall as her daughter, the chief. But like the Chief and the Mayor, she had those eye-poppingly big tits.

I had to shield my eyes from the sun with my hand to see her. "Yes, Ma'am. The Mayor asked me to stop by after lunch. She wanted to discuss something with me."

"Come out of the sun there on the porch, young man, and stand under this apple tree with me. I can barely hear what you are saying. Snap, snap!"

She seemed like she was in a hurry, so I stepped off the brick patio and jogged my way around on the gravel path to meet her under the tree. She had taken off her helmet and was holding it under her arm while she used her fingers to fluff out her hair, keeping her eyes on me as I approached.

As soon as I was under the shade, she laid into me. "So what is this about needing to see my daughter?"

I stammered, "I have an appointment; you see, the Mayor said to me, 'Come to her home office after lunch so we can discuss...'"

Mrs. Zimmerman interrupted me. "Well, she is not here. Some kind of hush-hush emergency meeting of the City Council. She ran off, looking a fright, if you ask me, a fright! Now, why does a young man like yourself have a meeting with the Mayor? Are you a member of the police force? A fireman? You don't look much like one of those mousy clerks down in the Hall of Records."

She reached her hand under the sleeve of my shirt and grabbed my bicep. "Oh, yes. You seem too virile, too full of sauce and vinegar for that kind of work. Well, speak up, young man, what is it? What is your business here?"

She caught me off guard with the rapid-fire questions, so I did not answer quickly enough.

She went on with a cross look on her face. "Have you been struck dumb, young man? How long must I interrupt my gardening before I can get an answer from you to a simple interrogative?" She was frowning, with her gray eyebrows furrowed.

I recovered myself to muster a response. "No, Ma'am, I am not any of those things, but I did enlist in the Army..."

Her face lit up. "A doughboy! You will find I am a great supporter and booster of our men in the trenches! I spent many an hour, many an hour letting young men like yourself, heading to the front lines, dunk their donuts in my coffee."

She put her arm through mine. "Sit with me on the bench, and tell me of your adventures, young man!" We walked to a concrete bench near the trunk of the tree.

I was about to sit when she stopped me, with her eyes twinkling. "But just be warned, young man, I am not one of those Suzie Roundheels who will put out to a soldier, just because he has a sob story about being home from the front, no sir!"

She pulled my arm so I would lean down a little. She said in a softer voice into my ear, "But I can certainly be talked into some petting!" More loudly, she said, patting the bench next to her hip as she sat, "Sit down, young man, sit down!"

I started thinking to myself, "Is she crazy?"

At that moment, she spoke up, "Do you think I am crazy, young man?"

Putting on my most sincere face, I said, "No, Ma'am."

She dropped her dirty gloves onto the ground next to the bench, on top of the spade, and then put her helmet on top of the little pile. She patted my knee through my jeans. "That is very good, young man, very good. There are times when those two daughters of mine, the ones in authority here in this town, the Mayor, and the Police Chief, will insist I have lost my marbles." She patted my knee again. "I have all my marbles, every single one I was born with, and some others I collected along the way."

What do you say to that? I could not think of anything profound, so I said, "Your marbles seem pretty good to me, Mrs. Zimmerman."

This sent her into spasms of laughter. She threw her arms around me and pulled my face into her bosom. "Oh, my goodness, 'my marbles seem pretty good'! Are you trying to seduce me, GI? Because it is working!"

I gently removed her hands from around my neck while sitting up. "No, Ma'am, I am just making conversation, while waiting for Mayor Snyder, Mrs. Snyder."

Mrs. Zimmerman frowned and shook her head dismissively. "She is not going to be back for hours." Then she scooted closer to me, patting my leg again. "No Dogface can fool me, I know what you young men want. And need." She leaned forward, pressing her breast into my arm. "Am I right?"

In the midst of all the sex and blackmail talk that went on at the Chief's house yesterday, the Chief had mentioned that her mother was a "horny old broad." It was probably not a good idea to go down the path to find out if that was true, especially in the Mayor's house, with her mother, but my penis was starting to respond to the hug and her pressing her breasts on me.

My cock talked me into it. So, I leaned over and put my hand on her back on her wide bra strap, a move which brought her hand that had been on my thigh in contact with my cock that was starting to strain at the denim. I whispered, in my best Bugs Bunny voice, "Hmmm, could be."

That sent her off into rolling laughter again, again grabbing me for a hug. "Oh, my goodness, young man. Both you and John Thomas down there seem pretty eager for some petting, or maybe for me getting a leg over, if I can be convinced."

I sat up again, smiling. "What do I have to do to convince you?"

She patted my hand. "That smile was enough." She stood, smoothing her dress, then bent over to pick up her gloves and helmet, leaving the spade on the ground. "Come with me, young man. The out-of-doors is no place for a respectable lady with ten children and 38 grandchildren to allow some grunt she has just met to engage in hanky-panky. So inside we go."

Standing, I followed her toward the house, but my spidey-sense was going off. How good an idea was it to go inside the Mayor's house with her mother for some hanky-panky? It was not one of my best decisions, but after all, I did get a hard-on when the Chief described her mother yesterday, and here she was, in the flesh, looking even better than I imagined, with those world-class tits, and that big butt that I was walking behind.

I had resolved to be bold that summer, and if that meant walking into the Mayor's house and fucking her mother, then I was not going to turn away.

The other thing going through my mind was that getting Mrs. Zimmerman would make me 4 for 4 with the Zimmerman family, as well, having fucked her granddaughter, Susan Snyder, when we went skinny dipping after her 18th birthday during the school year, and Mrs. Zimmerman's two daughters, the day before.

That thought reminded me that Susan might be wandering around the house, since I doubted that she had left for college. Where was she going? Oh, yeah, West Chester State. I remember she told me she was going to participate in sorority rush, but I wasn't sure if she had already left.

I followed Mrs. Zimmerman closely, almost running into her as she bent to remove her boots on the patio to avoid tracking dirt into the house. The cool air of the house was a stark contrast to the humid summer heat outside. The hallway was dimly lit, with polished wood floors and walls lined with framed photographs: black-and-white images of the Zimmerman family through the decades, stern-faced men in suits and women in elegant dresses, all exuding an air of authority.

There was a faint scent of lavender and furniture polish that hung in the air. Mrs. Zimmerman marched down the hall in her white ankle socks, with her gardening gloves tucked under her arm and the pith helmet in hand.

She led me past a grand staircase and through a set of double doors into what appeared to be a private sitting room. The space was small yet opulent, featuring a plush leather sofa in deep brown, a mahogany coffee table, and a fireplace that appeared unused for years. A large window overlooked the garden, its curtains drawn back to let in the afternoon light.

Mrs. Zimmerman set her helmet and gloves on a side table, then turned to brush past me to close the double doors we had just passed through. She leaned her back against the closed doors with her hands on her hips.

"Now, young man," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "let's get one thing straight. I'm no fool, and I know a randy young man on a 24-hour liberty pass when I see one. But I am not interested in a 'wham bam thank you ma'am' rutting you can describe to all your fellows in the barracks. But I'm also not one to let an opportunity pass me by."

She pushed herself off the door and stepped closer to me, her massive breasts touching my belly as she looked up at me, her gray eyes sharp and calculating. "So, what's it to be? A bit of innocent petting with a camp follower, then you go on your way? Or do you intend to live by the warrior's motto, 'Who dares, wins?'"

I thought that was the French Foreign Legion motto. But as Endora would say to Samantha: "Whatever!" With a grin on my face, I reached under her breasts that were jutting out over her belt and cupped them. Wow. They were firm and heavy. Looking her in the eyes, I said, "I dare."