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“Oh right,” she says. “My grandchild. Goodness, is that really happening?”
“It is,” Chelsea replies in a semi-sarcastic tone while rubbing her belly. “He’s been around for thirty-five weeks now, so forty is just around the corner.”
Elsa blinks again, still looking stunned. But then she collects herself and waves her arms a bit.
“Well, I suppose the timing is perfect then, because I wanted to talk with you both about our living arrangement.”
Chelsea and I exchange puzzled looks.
“What about it?” I growl in a low voice.
“Is there something you have to tell us?” Chelsea asks at the same time.
With that, Elsa nods and then drops her caftan, letting the silky fabric slip to the floor.
“Mom!” Chelsea gasps, obviously horrified. “What are you doing?”
But Elsa’s obviously not embarrassed at all. She’s wearing a light pink bra with matching lace panties, as well as six inch pink stilettos. Don’t get me wrong – Elsa looks great because she’s put on some weight. But still, this is completely inappropriate and I rip my eyes away quickly, trying my best to avoid acknowledging her as she giggles, jiggling her titties with both hands.
“That’s right! I’m gorgeous, aren’t I? It’s been a while since you saw me dressed like this, hmmm, Mason?”
“Mom what are you doing?” Chelsea gasps. “OMG, put your robe back on!”
But Elsa merely prances over to my desk, striking a sultry pose in front of me.
“No, this is the point, honey. I’m showing Mason that I’m ready to resume my free use relationship with him because I’m feeling so much better now after the shrooms. I swear, that shit is a miracle drug, and I should have started using shrooms years ago.”
“Mom!” Chelsea screams again, struggling to get up from the couch. “Stop, stop! OMG, please!”
Elsa merely shrugs and shoots me another seductive look even as her words are directed at her daughter.
“Of course, I appreciate that you took over my position when I was sick, Chelsea. I mean, we need to keep Mason satisfied by any means necessary, right? But I’m much better now, so your services are no longer needed. I can take over again. Besides, I’m sure Mason has missed me and is ready to resume our free use relationship.”
I let out a gargle, unable to form coherent words. Elsa takes that as a good sign and leans over my desk, dangling her décolletage in my face.
“Yes, this is all yours, big boy. Thank you for being so patient because my Lyme disease is finally in remission, and I’m healthy and ready to party again! Of course, with good health comes horniness so I’m all revved up,” she purrs. “Give it to me. I’ve been dreaming of that huge stick impaling me everywhere.”
Then, Elsa goes beyond the pale. The middle-aged woman reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra, and within seconds, the scrap of lace drops off, revealing enormous, Double D tits. They’re creamy and full, even if they sag quite a bit with age. Even more, Elsa doesn’t seem to care that her daughter’s in the room. She begins to do some sort of weird dance that’s supposed to be sexy, wiggling her hips while stroking her nipples and jiggling her tits around. She leans forward, cooing at me, and when I look over at Chelsea, she’s frozen in place and looking about as horrified as I feel.
“Stop Elsa,” I grind out. “Right now. Stop it.”
Elsa merely doubles down. She scoops her breasts up in both hands, and cranes her head forward to lick one nipple, and then the other.
“You always liked it when I did this Mason,” she purrs. “It’s one of the benefits of having huge boobies.”
Maybe that’s true, but the thing is that Elsa’s not the one that I want to see doing this; instead, Chelsea is. It’s one of the sexual acts that we like to do together, in fact. Both of us, taking turns licking and sucking on her hard nipples while I rub her pretty cunt.
But this turn of events has taken on a nightmarish-quality because it’s the wrong woman being lewd in the library.
“Elsa,” I bark. “Stop! What the fuck are you doing? This is completely inappropriate under any circumstances, first of all, and secondly, you can’t just come in here and expect us to rekindle whatever we had over two years ago. That isn’t how relationships work.”
Elsa isn’t listening, however. Her lashes merely flutter shut as she begins a deep suckle on one pink nipple while moaning with pleasure.
“Elsa,” I bark. “I’m going to call Keynes to drag you out of here—”
That gets her attention, and she releases her tip with a loud pop of the mouth.
“Oh stop,” she says in a cross tone. “I know you want it.”
