Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Rosalita Ch.  01
Summary: 18-year-old guy is reunited with older Latina.
Keywords: fic,mature
   For most of the time that I've known her, Rosalita was one of the
saddest people I ever met.  And it seems like I've known her forever.  She
was one of the invisible people that we interact with everyday and yet
never really know.  I met Rosalita when I was a kid in grade school. 
Rosalita was one of our school janitors, cleaning and mopping up after us
no matter what mess we students made.
   I can remember watching her in our cafeteria when I was maybe six years
old.  I was sitting at a table with some buddies eating our bologna
sandwiches and chips and our little cartons of milk and I looked up as she
passed by, stopping at the next table to wipe it down.  She glanced over at
us and noticed me watching her.  She gave me the sweetest and saddest
smile. It nearly made me cry as I sensed even then, great love and great
loss.
   A few minutes later, some older kids made a stupid scene by pretending
to accidentally spill their food trays into the floor next to the trash
cans.  They walked away laughing and saying "Whoops!" in exaggerated
voices. Rosalita sighed and trudged over to the mess and began cleaning it
up.
   I don't know why, but I got up and after disposing of my tray, bent over
next to her and began picking things up.  Rosalita glanced over surprised
and then smiled again.  A mother's smile full of love that reminded me of
how Mom would look when I'd done something that pleased her.
   "Thank you, hijo," said Rosalita, picking up the last of the garbage. 
"You're a good boy." She stepped over and tousled my hair.  "Go on, hijo,
go play."
   I looked at her for a moment, basking in the glow of her smile and asked
with a child's curiosity, "What does hijo mean?"
   Rosalita blushed, bright spots of red on her brown cheeks.  "Um, it
means son, young man, um, it's Johnny, right?" Her eyes grew watery, tears
on the verge of falling down her cheeks.
   "Yes, ma'am," I replied.
   She smiled that smile at me again, "Such a good boy.  I think you make
your mama proud." Rosalita smiled and continued, "I am Rosalita, Johnny. 
Thank you for helping me.  Now go play!"
   And I did.  I always remembered that moment though.  And I remembered
her mopping up the rest of the other kids' mess, pausing to wipe tears from
her eyes.  I felt a connection to her even then, even if I didn't
understand it.  She was just the nice, but sad lady who ever after always
had a nice smile for me.  I made a point of helping her whenever I saw a
chance.  Picking up a heavy wastebasket for her or pushing her cleaning
cart up the incline between the main school building and the gymnasium. 
She always seemed pleased by that and always said, "Thank you, my little
hijo." We rarely spoke more than hello and goodbye and thank you.
   That Christmas, I brought her a little glass angel identical to the one
I gave my teacher, Mrs.  Parsons.  I made her cry and she hugged me and
sobbed, "Gracias, mi amado hijo!" I was a little confused and thought I had
upset her, but she saw the gathering storm clouds in my face and knelt down
and hugged me again.  "I love it, Johnny.  You've made me very happy." That
made me feel better and I hugged her back one last time and wished her a
Merry Christmas before running off.
   Things changed after that.  She smiled a little more -- even if it was
still tinged with sadness and she always seemed happy to see me.  I'm sure
it's safe to say I had a little boy's crush on her.  But, the years passed
and as they did, I would move on and up in school as we all do.  I lost
track of Rosalita after I went to middle school and then in sixth grade, we
up and moved across the state.  For years, I rarely, if ever, thought of
the sad eyed woman I had befriended.  It was a bit of surprise to meet up
with her again when my family moved back to town just before school started
for my senior year.
   I was hanging out in the cafeteria on the first day, getting
reacquainted with old friends when one of them nudged me with his elbow and
said, "Hey, Johnny, there's your old girlfriend." Even before I looked to
where Mick was pointing, I heard an old familiar voice scolding a group of
juniors.  I turned around to see several young men scurrying to clean up
their mess while Rosalita shook her finger at them and called them little
pigs.
   My heart gave a lurch as I saw my old friend who still looked so sad and
to whom I now had a different reaction.  See, I was eighteen and I had
already figured out that I had a thing for older women.  Don't ask me why
-- I'm not sure myself.  Maybe it was a Mom fixation.  I have fantasized
about my mother for years.  From there, my fantasies have spread outward to
include most of Mom's friends, a few good looking teachers and my
supervisor at the grocery story where I had worked as a bag boy until we
moved back here.  Mature women just turn me on.
   Now I found myself looking at my sad Rosalita in a new light as well.  I
had always liked her, but now post puberty, I was surprised that I hadn't
remembered her as the beautiful woman she was.  Rosalita's skin was the
color of cinnamon and her high cheek bones gave her a noble look.  Her hair
was jet black and tied into a bun on top of her head.  I let my gaze roam
appreciatively over her lush body -- I freely admit that like most teenager
boys, I am fascinated with large breasts and her bosom although completely
covered by her work clothes (a blue jumpsuit), was obviously huge.  She was
a little stockier than I remembered, standing maybe five and half feet
tall, but her jumpsuit clung enticingly to her shapely butt.  I felt my
cock stir in general interest.
   "See you guys later," I said, getting up from the table.  I heard Mick
snicker, but ignored him.  He was a doofus way back when and he was a
doofus now.  I strolled over to Rosalita and said, "Hi, Miss Rosalita.  Do
you remember me?"
   She turned around and looked me up and down with her big, dark eyes. 
After studying me for a second, she started to shake her head and then she
stopped and her hand flew to her mouth and she said softly, "My little
Johnny?  Is that you, mi hijo?"
   I grinned and nodded.  "Oh my god, you're all grown up!" she exclaimed
and then surprised me by rushing up and giving me a big hug.  Her arms
pulled me tight against her and I was able to confirm my suspicions about
her large bosom as I could feel her meaty breasts pillow against my chest
-- even through her bra.
   "Look at you!" she exclaimed, stepping back and giving me another once
over.  "My sweet little Johnny has become a man!" She had a broad grin on
her face and I felt not only aroused by this lovely mature woman, but happy
that I could take that sad look off her face.
   We chatted for several minutes and then the bell rang for my next class.
Rosalita sighed and gave me another hug and said, "It is so good to see
you, Johnny!" before letting me go.
   "You too, Ms.  Rosalita," I murmured, feeling my face blush.  I wasn't
embarrassed as much as pleased that she seemed so happy to seem me again.
   Senior year passed quickly -- I had most of my required classes
completed and what was left, I skated through.  Mostly I concentrated on
girls (my interests were not exclusively with mature women), fixing up my
old Ford, and baseball (I was the starting first basemen on the school
team).  I saw Rosalita around often and would stop and chat with her, still
helping her out when I could, which earned me an occasional hug or maybe
just a touch on the arm.  Just being around the lovely Mexican-American
woman could get me hard -- her touch guaranteed an erection.
   I fantasized a lot about making a move on Rosalita, but like my
fantasies about Mom or her friends, I didn't have a clue about how to
approach her.  My sexual experiences were limited to a few sweaty moments
with a cheerleader named Denise who gave sloppy, but enthusiastic blowjobs,
but wouldn't go all the way.
   I always figured that my fantasies would remain just that, my fantasies,
but things wound up being very different because I didn't run out that
pop-up against our school's biggest rivals.
   It was one of our home games in late April and West Riverside was
kicking our asses and we were behind 9-1.  In the bottom of the ninth, I
was at bat with one out and I popped it up behind second base and their
shortstop was there and took it in and I half-assed it up the baseline and
had turned to the dugout before the ball was in his glove.
   Coach Munson had a fit over my laziness and instead of showering up and
getting out of there, I was running laps around the ball field for the next
thirty minutes and then I had to collect and store all our equipment.  By
the time I had showered and dressed, I was alone at the ball field.  I
trudged back to the high school parking lot just after the sun had set and
everything was in that dim time of twilight.  I was having a good pity
party for myself and not paying attention to anything, tossing a baseball
I'd kept, up and down.
   I was shocked out of my daze by a shrill scream and I spun around and at
the far end of the lot where teachers and staff parked, I could see a
commotion.  "ROSALITA!" I screamed as I broke into a run.
   Rosalita was struggling with two guys who were trying to take her purse
and she was hanging on to it for dear life.  As I approached, I recognized
them as a couple of lowlife thugs who were in and out of school all the
time.  They were intent on Rosalita's purse and not aware of my approach.
One of them struck Rosalita on the jaw and she went to her knees, hands
still wrapped tight around the strap to her bag.
   "MOTHERFUCKER!" I yelled, throwing the ball in my hand at the guy who
punched her and nailing him in the back of his head.  His knees went out
from under him and he was on the ground next to Rosalita and as his buddy
looked up to see what was going on, I slammed into him, throwing him
against Rosalita's car.  He stumbled to the right, tossing a wild haymaker
that just clipped my chin and made me go off balance.
   By the time, I got my footing, he had his pal up and they were running
off.  In the heat of my anger, I started after them, but drew up short when
Rosalita sobbed, "No!  Let them go, hijo!"
   My anger bled away in an instant as I turned and hurried to Rosalita and
knelt beside her.  "Are you okay?" I gasped, reaching out and touching her
arm.
   Rosalita nodded and tried to speak and then just burst into tears and
flung her face against my chest and cried for a minute or two.  I just put
my arms around her and tried to say something to calm her.
   By the time she was able to talk; the Principal and a school board
member had emerged from the school and rushed up.  They called the police
who took statements from Rosalita and me.  I identified the assholes who
had tried to mug her and the police assured her that they were not
strangers to them and they'd have no trouble rounding them up.  Rosalita
was very quiet saying very little and staying close to me.
   While Principal Brown and the police were discussing things, she leaned
into me and said, "Thank you, Johnny.  You're a brave young man." She took
my hand in hers and squeezed it affectionately.
   I blushed down to the roots of my hair and tried to be modest.  "I
didn't do anything brave.  It doesn't take much to stand up to a couple of
assholes who'd pick on a woman like that."
   Rosalita smiled at me and said, "No -- it was a brave thing to do."
   The police left and Principal Brown patted me on the back and told me
how proud he was.  Then he looked to Rosalita and said, "Will you be
alright, Mrs.  Sanchez?  Do you need someone to drive you home?  I'm in a
meeting, but I'll be free in fifteen minutes or so."
   Before she could answer, I jumped in and said, "I'd be glad to drive Ms.
Rosalita home, sir."
   We both looked at Rosalita and she nodded and said, "That would be nice,
Johnny." I told Principal Brown that I would hike back to my car later and
he beamed and called me a good young man and wished us both a nice weekend.
   I helped Rosalita into her car and suddenly realized I was seeing her
for the first time in something different than her work clothes.  As she
sat down and swung her legs in, it hit me as I realized I was admiring her
shapely calves!  Rosalita was wearing a skirt -- a knee length denim skirt.
I couldn't help but smile as my eyes roamed up her body -- Rosalita was
wearing a pretty checkered blouse that just gave a hint of her no doubt
impressive cleavage.  I continued my survey and met her eyes.  I blushed as
she smiled back at me, no doubt knowing exactly what I had been doing. 
Just as I began to close the door, she said softly, "Thank you, mi hijo."
   The drive home was silent, Rosalita speaking only to tell me where to
turn.  She lived maybe three miles away -- we came to a stop in front of
small house on a quiet, residential street.  Her front yard was immaculate
with beautifully crafted flower beds.  "Your house is lovely.  Did you do
all those flowerbeds yourself?" I asked.
   Rosalita looked out at her home and nodded.  "Yes, I love working with
flowers.  After cleaning up after you kids..." She stopped, grinned and
resumed, "Cleaning up after those other kids -- it's nice to work on
something pretty." She reached over and squeezed my hand.  "Sorry -- I
didn't mean to lump you in with everyone else.  You're special -- you've
always treated me like a person instead of a janitor."
   I shrugged and replied, "You are a person, Rosalita -- and you're the
one who's special.  Most of us are too stupid or blind to see that." She
beamed back at me.  I felt embarrassed -- not sure what else to say, so I
opened the car door.  "I'll walk you to your door, Rosalita."
   I helped her out of the car and realized as I again stared at her legs.
"Rosalita, you're bleeding!"
   She looked down and sighed.  "Si.  I skinned my knees when that punk hit
me.  I don't know what will be more sore tomorrow -- my knees or my chin.
She tilted her head and even in the dim light of a nearby streetlamp I
could tell there was a small discoloration of her otherwise reddish-coppery
skin.
   Rosalita took my offered arm and I walked her to the door.  She unlocked
the door and turned and we looked at each other with uncertainty.  I wanted
to kiss her so badly; I was almost shaking with the effort of restraining
myself.
   "Johnny?" she said, her voice low and unsure.  "Would you mind coming in
for a little bit -- at least until I feel a little more, I don't know,
settled?
   "Um, sure," I replied.  "I'd be happy to."
   Inside, she turned on the lights.  It was a lovely little place, neat as
a pin.  A small living room, adjoining kitchen and breakfast nook and a
hall that I assumed led to one or more bedrooms.  The walls were covered
with family photographs and a few paintings.
   Rosalita picked up a TV remote and handed it to me.  "Why don't you make
yourself comfortable?  I'm going to take a quick shower and clean up this
mess," she said, gesturing at her bloodied knees.  "You can watch TV if you
like and there is soda in the refrigerator."
   I felt a stirring in my loins -- my cock beginning its all too short
rise towards erection.  In my head, I saw a million directions that this
could go and worried that I would manage to have a million and one ways to
screw things up.  "Okay," I said meekly.  My cock continued to swell as I
realized that in a few minutes, this woman I had lusted after all year long
would be naked just a few feet away from me.
   She smiled at me and started to move towards the hallway.  Rosalita
stopped and turned back.  "I feel silly saying 'thank you,' over and over
again, but Johnny, thank you for what you did." She closed the distance
between us and then rose on tip-toe to kiss the corner of my mouth, her
body moving firmly against mine.  "Mi beloved hijo," she whispered.  She
stepped back, her cinnamon skin turning darker as she blushed and then
hurried from the room.
   I watched her go and then stood there looking around the room.  I idly
turned on the television, but didn't sit down for long.  Instead, I
wandered about the room, looking at the various photographs.  I assumed
they were family pictures.  I recognized a much younger Rosalita in a
sundress, next to an older couple and then one of her in a graduation cap
and gown between the same two people who I guessed were her parents.  Other
pictures showed her and various other young people of differing ages -- her
parents in some of these pictures as well, so I assumed that they were her
siblings.  She looked so happy in those pictures.
   She looked even happier in other pictures with a young Hispanic man in a
military uniform.  Then there was a wedding photo, Rosalita looking
absolutely radiant next to her young man in Army dress uniform.  I lingered
on this one, feeling a little guilty as I ogled the deep cut of her dress,
exposing the tops of her magnificent breasts.  Then came pictures of a
pregnant Rosalita, her belly swollen and looking as happy as anyone ever
could.  I was amazed to find myself as hard as I have ever been, looking at
her, maybe seven or eight months pregnant, belly big and breasts under a
maternity top, looking almost impossibly huge.
   As I walked, I came to a little alcove.  It looked like a shrine or tiny
altar.  There were candles in the front and behind them, pictures of her
husband holding an infant and another of a young boy, maybe five years old.
Suddenly, cold exploded in the pit of my stomach and all my horniness
evaporated in a heartbeat.  I suddenly comprehended Rosalita's sadness.
   "His name was Hernando.  I fell in love with him the first moment I saw
him," Rosalita said from behind me.  I turned to see her standing there in
a thick, plush robe, belted tight.  She was staring at the photo intently.
"He is holding our son, Juan." She smiled that sad smile of hers.  "Little
Juan loved his daddy so much.  Even at six months, he loved to go
everywhere with his father."
   Rosalita reached out and took my hand.  My mouth felt as dry as a desert
as I whispered, "What happened, Rosalita?"
   She didn't say anything for a long, drawn out minute and I couldn't
bring myself to breathe.  Finally, Rosalita let out a long, soulful sigh
that ended in a tremulous voice, "Hernando took Juan to a ballgame, they
were both such baseball fans.  They were on their way back and another car
ran into them.  They were gone by the time the ambulance came.  The other
driver, she died too.  Wasn't drunk or a heart attack -- just ran into my
husband and my little boy." She reached out and touched the framed
photograph.  "Mi tiamo."
   She stared a moment longer then turned to me.  "Come on, Johnny, come
sit with me." She took my hand and led me to the couch.  We sat down and
faced each other, Rosalita curling her legs underneath her, giving me a
flash of one lovely leg before it disappeared beneath the plush robe.
   "I'm sorry.  I never knew why you were so sad and I never thought to
ask," I said, embarrassed even as I admitted it.
   "You were a boy then and wouldn't know how to," Rosalita said.  "But you
cared, didn't you?  You were kind to me and helpful and such a wonderful
boy." She leaned over and stroked my cheek.  "My Juan would be almost your
age if things had turned out different.  I like to think he'd be a lot like
you."
   "Thank you," I replied.  I felt my cheeks burn and I felt a little
ashamed for having such wicked thoughts about her -- even at that moment --
sensing that underneath that robe she was naked and I yearned - ached to
see her nakedness.
   She leaned back as if my gaze was a little too intense to endure at such
a short distance.  "And you remind me a little of my Hernando.  He was a
honest, caring man.  Brave and true to those he loved -- a man worthy of
being loved." Rosalita stared at me now with a gaze so powerful, I shifted
around a bit, trying to get comfortable.  I wondered if she was wondering
what I looked like underneath my clothes.
   I began to talk just to ease the sudden tension I felt in the room. 
"And you never remarried -- you've been alone all this time?"
   Rosalita shrugged her shoulders.  "I wasn't always alone -- my parents
lived me with afterwards and then I took care of them until they passed. 
My brothers and sisters -- we still see each other, but not as often as we
want.  I have friends and such.  I even date once in a while, but no one
ever made me feel the way Hernando did.  I sometimes have thought that my
heart died with him and Juan, that I will never feel love again."
   She stood up and smiled down at me.  "But once in a while, I remember
how much I did love and I feel my heart come alive again.  Especially
thanks to a certain little boy." She walked over to a book shelf and took a
knickknack off the top.  She held it out, "Remember this?" It was the snow
angel I'd given her so many years ago.
   "You gave me this the first Christmas after I lost my husband and son. I
sometimes think that if it weren't for this and the wonderful little boy
that gave it to me, I might have killed myself.  But, I had my angel --
this little thing and the angel that gave it to me."
   Rosalita sat it back on the shelf and then walked over to me.  She bent
over and cupped my face with her hands.  "Thank you, mi amado hijo," she
said and then she kissed me, her lips pressing against mine.  It was a kiss
that seemed to go on and on, just the soft, velvety pressure of her lips on
mine and her hands on my cheeks.
   I was lost in that sweet sensation -- my heart pounding and my cock
hardening as we kissed.  Not a soul kiss, our mouths never opened, but a
delicious, loving kiss all the same that I never wanted to stop, but
suddenly a jangling noise broke us out of the moment and we slowly, almost
regretfully let ourselves part.  "Te quiero," she whispered as she turned
and went into the kitchen.
   She picked up a cordless phone sitting on the breakfast table and said,
"Hello?" A pause and her face grew serious.  "Yes, officer?  Yes." The
cloud of seriousness evaporated and she turned and grinned broadly at me.
"That's good to know, officer.  I'll sleep better knowing they're locked
up. Thank you.  Good night."
   Hanging up the phone, she said, "That was the police.  They picked up
those creeps.  Said they even confessed!  Isn't that a relief?"
   I agreed it was and she quickly returned to the couch.  The mood seemed
to be changed.  Whatever had begun to build between us wasn't there.  I sat
and chatted with her for maybe an hour, but now we seemed to be on familiar
ground, almost relating as we did at school -- except I was still reliving
that kiss in my mind and I could not look at her without feeling aroused by
her.  The robe she wore, covered her well, but even so, it didn't hide her
very feminine shape and each time she laughed or smiled or just looked at
me, I felt my cock stir -- swelling and deflating by turns.
   As we talked, something seemed different about her and then it hit me.
"Your hair!" I said, surprised that I hadn't noticed it earlier.  She had
let her hair down from its customary bun and it fell in long black tresses
over her shoulders.  "Your hair is beautiful!"
   Rosalita laughed and touched a strand of her jet black hair.  "Thank
you, Johnny.  It is a pain in the butt to take care of, but I've always
kept it long." She paused for a second.  "Hernando never wanted me to cut
it short.  He said it was the hair of a passionate woman." Suddenly, all
that tension returned to the room as she looked away and then turned her
head to gaze into my eyes again.
   "He was right, Rosalita.  You're even more beautiful when you wear it
down like that!"
   "Thank you, mi hijo," she laughed.  "My Johnny is going to be a ladies
man.  You know how to make a woman feel lovely -- we can never hear that
enough." She fell silent and for a long moment we just looked at each
other. I shifted to get a little more comfortable and my moving drew her
eyes downward to the crotch of my jeans which were bulging hugely.  She
considered my hard-on for what seemed forever and then returned her gaze to
my eyes.
   Rosalita smiled and bit her lower lip with that delicious overbite of
hers.  She glanced up at a clock on the wall -- one of those cat clocks
with the moving eyes and tails.  "It's getting late, hijo," she said. 
"Your parents will be getting worried.  You better go."
   Every fiber of my being screamed for me to kiss her, but I couldn't
summon the nerve and I told her she was right -- "You've had a rough
evening too and you should get some rest."
   She walked me to her front door, offering to get dressed and drive me
back to school.  I shook my head and said, "No, I think you should take it
easy, Rosalita and besides, I think I'd like to walk awhile -- you know,
think about stuff."
   Rosalita nodded and replied, "I understand." She stepped up close again,
the front of her robe brushing against my chest.  "Again, mi hijo, thank
you.  Thank you for everything." In the span of a heartbeat, Rosalita's
arms flew around my neck and she kissed me again.  Like before, her mouth
never opened, but with her wonderful, full lips pressing against mine, it
was a passionate kiss anyway.  It went on a long time, her embrace
tightening as she kissed me, her body against mine, separated only by that
damned robe.
   When it finally ended, she kept her arms around me and whispered gently,
"Te quiero, mi amado hijo."
   "What does that mean?" I said in a breathless voice.
   Rosalita smiled and replied, "I love you, my beloved son."
   I leaned into her and kissed her again, still a chaste, but passionate
kiss.  After another long minute, I felt her tense up and I broke the kiss.
Rosalita started to step back, but I caught her hands as she moved them and
held them for a moment as I said, "I love you, my beloved Rosalita. 
Goodnight."
   I stepped out the door as she watched me, walking backwards to see her
staring at me with those lovely dark eyes, still sadness evident in them,
but maybe, maybe not as much as there had been before.  When she finally
closed the door, I turned and walked briskly down the sidewalk, whistling
and striding jauntily as only a young man in love can do.
   I was only a couple of hours late getting home, but my parents didn't
seem to mind much, especially after I told them about the attempted mugging
of Rosalita.  Dad clapped me on the back and told me he was proud of me,
then disappeared into the den to watch the last couple of innings of the
Braves' game.
   Mom fussed over me, checking in on me after I climbed into bed.  She
applauded me for my bravery and worried over my brash action.  "Maybe you
should've gone for help instead of taking on two thugs, Johnny." I endured
Mom's motherly attentions, enjoying her closeness -- Mom was wearing a silk
bed robe that was much more revealing than the one Rosalita had on.  Mom's
body was a lot trimmer than my Rosalita's, but very sexy and her satin robe
did more than hint at the skimpy nightgown underneath, exposing much of her
cleavage.  Mom's breasts were a 36D (yes, I peeked at her bras one day).
   "Heck, Mom -- it was no big deal.  Those creeps are a couple of bullies
and I'm not afraid of any asshole that would hit a woman."
   Mom smiled at me and sitting on the edge of my bed, leaned over and
stroked my hair affectionately.  "You're a fine, young man.  I'm proud of
you." She sat back and studied me for a moment.  "Rosalita Sanchez -- isn't
she the woman you had such a crush on when you were in grade school?"
   I blushed and nodded.  Mom laughed and said, "Maybe my Johnny still has
a crush on his Rosalita?" I felt my face burning even more and Mom sighed
and shook her head and leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.  "Ah, my
son, the ladies' man.  You always have liked older women." Her eyes darted
downwards, following my gaze to her exposed cleavage.  She chuckled and
said, "You better be careful -- it's real easy to get in over your head
with an older woman."
   I could feel my mouth open in surprise.  I had not realized that Mom
knew about my inclination towards mature women.  I wondered what else I
didn't know about my mother, but before I could mull that over Mom sat up
and winked at me and then stood up and walked to the door.  "I love you,
son.  Be careful."
   Mom closed the door behind her and I finally remembered to breathe.  Mom
has always been a bit of a flirt, but that was way beyond anything she had
done before.  My cock was as stiff as a bar of iron and I quickly began to
stroke it under the blankets.  Then there was a knock in the door and Mom
popped her head in and said, "Oh honey, I almost forgot -- your father and
I are going up to the Mountains for the weekend.  You're on your own for
food -- I'll leave you some money on the kitchen table." Again, she gave me
that sexy wink and said, "Maybe you should check on your friend, Rosalita,
tomorrow and see if she's all right -- maybe take her to lunch or
something. Goodnight, Johnny."
   And then she was gone and my mind was reeling as I jacked off.  Was Mom
encouraging me to see Rosalita after flirting with me?  Images of Rosalita
flashed through my mind as I approached a quick orgasm -- too long delayed.
These images of my Hispanic friend were interspersed with images of Mom as
well.  I cried out to both as my cock began to erupt, spraying a huge load
of semen over my hand and the blanket.  It was so powerful it took my
breath away and it was several minutes before I could gather the energy to
begin cleaning up.
   Even after that, as the day's events weighed on me and dragged me down
into sleep, erotic images of Rosalita and Mom dominated my dreams.  In
those dreams, it seemed as if the two mature women, completely different in
looks were constantly changing from one to the other.  One moment I would
be riding Rosalita, her urging me -- "Fuck me, hijo, ti quiero.  Fuck your
Rosalita," and the next time I looked down, I was on top of Mom who smiled
at me as only a mother can, whispering to me, "I love you, son -- but
remember, its easy to get in over your head with an older woman!"
   Needless to say, I woke as horny as an eighteen year old can get!  Even
after my morning piss, my cock hovered between full mast and half mast. 
After showering, I dressed in a T-shirt and jeans and headed downstairs. 
It was already 9:30 in the morning and I discovered Mom and Dad had already
left on their trip -- the latest of a series of "romantic" getaways to try
and spice up their love life.  From overheard conversations and out in the
open arguments, I pretty much knew their love life had kind of dried up and
that Dad was in the middle of a mid-life crisis.
   Mom had left me an envelope with a hundred dollars inside and a note
that said, "Here's some eating money.  I hope you have a good weekend.  I
hope your friend, Rosalita is okay.  Behave and remember what your mother
told you about older women!  Love, Mom."
   As I sat at the kitchen table, eating my corn flakes, I considered what
Mom was trying to tell me, but all I could think was that somehow Mom had
given me the green light to pursue a woman that was the same age as her. 
The fact that my mother knew that I was hot for a woman who was at least
her age was an incredible turn on and when I left the house, I had a raging
hard-on in my pants.
   Thirty minutes later, I pulled up in front of her house and parked
behind her car.  I sat there for a few minutes working up my courage and
then the next thing I knew I was ringing her doorbell and hand behind my
back.
   The door opened and Rosalita was there, looking so beautiful she took my
breath away.  Her long black hair hung down over her shoulders and gleamed
from a good brushing.  Rosalita was wearing a white caftan that had a
scooped neckline and my heart began to trip hammer as I saw the upper
portion of her massive breasts for the first time.  Her smile was the best
thing of all -- an 'I'm so happy to see you!' smile.
   "Johnny!  What are you doing here on a Saturday morning?" she said,
stepping back and motioning me to come in.  "I'm not complaining, hijo --
it's so good to see you!"
   "I wanted to make sure you were okay, Rosalita," I replied.  "I-I
couldn't -- can't stop thinking about you."
   "Oh, Johnny -- you are so sweet, mi amado hijo." Rosalita said, blushing
a little -- her dusky skin darkening.
   I remembered that I was holding something for her and from behind my
back, I produced a flower bouquet.  "Flowers!" Rosalita squealed.  "Oh,
Johnny -- no one has given me flowers in ages!  Thank you, mi hijo!" She
came to me and pressing herself against me, kissed me on the lips. 
Instinctively, I put my arms around her waist to hold her in place,
savoring the sensation of her lush body against mine.  Her caftan was much
less thick than the plush robe she'd had on the night before and I was more
aware than ever of the huge meaty breasts mashing against my chest.
   The kiss, like all the others was chaste, but seemed to go on and on. 
After long seconds I felt her sag against me a little and a happy little
sigh escaped her mouth.  I tightened my embrace, pulling her a little
tighter against me.  Then I felt Rosalita's body tensing up and she pushed
away, her face dark with excitement or embarrassment or both.  I looked at
her with what I hoped was an expression of love on my face, but it was too
much for her to bear and she ducked her eyes and taking a deep breath,
tried to regain her control of the situation.  "This was so sweet of you,
Johnny.  I don't know what to say."
   She finally looked up into my eyes and seemed to be debating what to do
next.  Finally she waved me towards the living room.  "Please, mi hijo,
come in."
   She motioned me to the couch and I watched the beautiful Hispanic woman
as she found a vase for the flowers and got them settled.  I admired her
voluptuous body as she strode about the room.  The caftan was slit up one
side and as Rosalita walked, her trim, shapely leg came into view again and
again.  I quickly realized that she wasn't wearing a bra under the gown and
I think my openly staring at her quickly had an impact as I began to see
thick, round nipples appear, jutting out against the white material.  As my
Rosalita finally sat down next to me, I realized that her weighty breasts
pushed out against the material so much that I could even tell the outline
of her aureoles around her large nipples.
   "You look lovely this morning, Rosalita," I managed to say without
stammering.  My heart was pounding and I could feel the blood rushing
through my veins.  "Um, I've been practicing -- let's see if I can do it
right." I took a deep breath and looking into Rosalita's big, beautiful
eyes said slowly, "Te quiero, mi amado Rosalita."
   "Oh, mi tiamo." Rosalita whispered softly.  She scooted a little closer
to me and took my hand.  "I love you too, my beloved boy." She leaned in as
if to kiss me, both of us looking into each other's eyes, but paused -- her
lips open and a scant inch from mine.
   I moved forward, but my lips only grazed hers as she moved back to
maintain that minute distance between us.  "Rosalita?" I asked, my hand
tightening on hers.
   "Johnny, oh mi hijo, I want to -- I mean, we can't do this."
   I moved closer to her, again my lips just barely brushing against hers
before she eased back.  I could feel her free hand against my chest -- not
pushing me back, just there.  "Why not, Rosalita?  I love you and I know
you love me."
   "Johnny, I'm an old woman and you're a young boy.  Mi hijo, I'm old
enough to be your mother!  I think of you like you were my own son."
   Somewhere in my brain, I idly wondered what she would think of what I
would love to do with Mom if I ever had the chance, but just her words
enough inflamed my desires.  I liked her calling me her son; it made my
desire for her even more powerful.  A terrible hunger swept through me and
I quickly pressed my lips to Rosalita's mouth, catching her off guard,
offering her my tongue before either of us could think about it.
   Rosalita gave a muffled squeal and made a mild effort to push me off
her, but the moment my tongue brushed against hers, she was kissing me back
with all the passion I had known was bottled up inside her.  Our tongues
darted and dueled as we kissed hungrily, giving into desires too long held
in check.
   The kiss seemed to go on and on, becoming even more powerful as we
wrapped our arms around each other.  I could feel her heart pounding in
counterpoint to mine as our tongues roiled over each other and made love on
their own.  Rosalita tasted sweet and I knew immediately that a lifetime of
kissing this woman would never sate my hunger for the touch of her soft
lips and the taste of her tongue.
   At some point our hands began to roam.  I think I started it by running
my hands through her thick, black hair, letting it cascade through my
fingers before finally cupping her face with my hands.  Rosalita's fingers
ran through my hair before running down my back and pulling my T-shirt out
of my jeans and caressing my back.  My hand found the slit in her caftan
and I slowly stroked her soft thigh back and up until leaning her forward I
was able to cup her meaty ass cheek.  My other hand cupped a heavy,
pendulous breast through the soft cotton fabric of her gown, savoring the
sensation of her erect nipple throbbing against my palm.
   As if our minds were joined, we stood up as one, our kiss still raging,
not wanting to surrender each other's tongues, until our desires finally
overwhelmed us.  We ended the kiss, a single shiny strand of saliva between
us as we stared at each other with fiery lust.  Rosalita lifted my shirt up
and tore it off over my head, flinging it across the room.
   She pressed herself against me, her mouth showering my chests with
little kisses.  She closed her lips over my right nipple and after rolling
her tongue across my little swollen pebble, slowly bit down on it.  As she
did this, her hands were busy fumbling with my belt buckle.
   For my part, I discovered that Rosalita's caftan unzipped behind her
back.  As I felt my jeans slide down around my ankles and Rosalita's warm
hand palm my erect penis, I unzipped her gown and then as she regretfully
took a step back, I tugged her caftan down around her shoulders, over her
massive breasts and then it was pooled around her feet and I felt my breath
catch as I gazed at the naked beauty of my lusty Rosalita.
   Words failed me and I could only stare with frank lust at her Rubenesque
body.  Her breasts were indeed massive, dwarfing my mother's large breasts.
Like two enormous gourds, Rosalita's tits hung down against her chest --
meaty, bountiful mounds of titflesh capped with large, meaty nipples that
stood proud and dark against her cinnamon skin.  Her waist, though a little
thickened with age, was narrower than her old work suits ever revealed, her
luscious hips flaring outward and between her legs was the most incredible
forest of pitch black pubic hair I could ever have imagined.  It grew thick
and unruly, covering her mound and trailing upwards and outwards.  Even as
thick as it was, I could see a wet strip of pink, aroused flesh parting the
forest of her muff.
   Rosalita stood proudly before me, letting me take her gorgeous body in,
but her desires were strong too and I guess my erect cock, slapping up
against my belly was too much for her.  With a feral growl, Rosalita leaped
at me, her mouth crushing against mine as she pushed me back, my knees
folding up against the edge of the sofa, forcing me to sit.  My beautiful
woman never slowed down, but climbed atop me, squirming herself into my
lap, sending shivers through me as her furry bush rubbed into my crotch and
against my hardness.
   She hunched against me and I was suddenly aware of a delicious heat
coming from her bottom as she ground her furry pussy against my cock. 
Wetness followed and joined the heat as her labia spread and tried to
capture and swallow my erection.  I felt Rosalita's hand move downwards,
trying to grasp my cock, but then, all on its own, the swollen head of my
penis found her wet, hungry cunt as Rosalita rolled her hips and I felt my
cock being enveloped in a sheath of pure hot and slick heaven for the first
time in my life.
   Rosalita broke the kiss to cry out as she slowly sank downwards on my
shaft -- a gradual, never ceasing movement of hot, silky wetness clasping
my erection.  "Mi amado hijo!" she sobbed as she ground her crotch against
mine, having taking the length of my dick, letting it nestle deep with her
womb.
   "I love you, Rosalita!" I gasped as I felt her pussy muscles clench my
cock tightly.  "Mi amado Rosalita."
   Rosalita rolled her hips and gasped.  "Oh my God!  I cannot believe
we're doing this, Johnny!  It's my craziest dreams come true!" Rosalita
bent down and we kissed -- a gentle kiss that quickly grew passionate and
erotic, our tongues roiling against each other.  "I thought I might be
going mad, mi hijo!  In my dreams it seemed as if I am making love to you
and Hernando and my grown up Juan all at once."
   Her words made my head swim and at the same time arouse my need -- my
hunger for her.  "You are, Rosalita -- we're all here, we all love you and
will always love you." I kissed her again -- another long, sensuous kiss
that seemed to last a lifetime.  I could feel both our hearts pounding as
we hugged each other tight.  Somewhere in that kiss, our bodies began to
respond to our hunger for each other.  Gradually, Rosalita began to slowly
move up and down on my erect penis, using her knees for leverage as her
cunt lips clung and dragged against the shaft of my cock, coating it with
her warm lotion.
   When our kiss ended, Rosalita pressed my face into her huge breasts,
hugging me to her as she purred, "Fuck me, hijo.  Fuck your Mama Rosalita."
My lips sought out and encircled her huge, swollen nipples.  I sucked and
licked at her turgid nobs for a long time while she ran her fingers through
my hair.  "Ohhhh, Johnny -- you make me feel so good," she hissed as she
continued to ride me.
   On and on we went, making love.  The sweet, slow movement of our bodies
created more pleasure than I ever imagined possible.  Rosalita's pussy felt
so incredible, like being enveloped in the warm, wet, satiny embrace of a
heavenly angel, massaging my cock with infinite delicate pleasure.
   I would trade off kissing and sucking my lover's wonderfully huge tits
to again kiss her -- savoring the taste of her eager tongue curling around
and making love to mine.  Our bodies quickly became slick with the sweat of
our lovemaking, making our flesh slippery and sticky all at the same time.
As we moved in the age's old motion of a man and a woman making love, her
long, black hair damp with sweat brushed against my shoulders.  I began to
feel Rosalita's body begin to tremble against mine.  The slippery warmth
that my cock was wrapped up in became hotter and wetter as I felt
Rosalita's pussy tighten around my hard dick.
   "Ohhhh, Johnny -- I'm, oh god, I'm going to...." Rosalita's words
evaporated as she gave a long sigh, her fingernails digging into my
shoulders as she ground herself down on my erection.  "Oh yesssss, mi hijo,
make me cum!  Make Mama cummmmm!"
   Rosalita pressed her mouth against mine, but couldn't maintain the kiss
as the force of her orgasm ripped a wail of incredible pleasure from her
and she arched her back, driving herself into me, burying my cock deep in
her cunt, sobbing.  "Te quiero, mi hijo!"
   "I love you, too!" I cried back, tears running down my face as my own
pleasure began to overwhelm me and I felt my seed boiling out of my balls
and exploding inside Rosalita's motherly pussy!  "Te quiero, mi amado
madre!"
   Our words, our lovemaking -- all of it overwhelmed us and we were
suddenly becoming one, our orgasms melding and becoming something bigger
than both of us, both of us lost in the sheer pleasure of each other as we
came and came and came.  It felt as if I'd come more this one single,
wonderful moment than in all the previous ejaculations of my life.
   I was gasping for breath as I came back to myself, my eyes taking in the
sweetly erotic sight of Rosalita still frozen at the height of her orgasm,
her upper lip curled as she sneered with the overwhelming delight of her
orgasm, her eyes rolled back in her head.  Suddenly her eyelids fluttered
and she sagged onto me, her eyes full of disbelief and joy.  "Oh,
Johnnyyyyy," she gasped before collapsing into sobs, hugging me tightly as
she cried and between heaving breaths, calling out to me.  "Oh mi amado
hijo.  I love you so much, Johnny."
   We murmured little loving things too each other, not moving for the
longest time while Rosalita's sobs eased and we both managed to get our
breathing back to normal.  We stared into each other's eyes, for myself it
was easy to get lost in the loving stare of her dark eyes.  Everything felt
so right -- the way our naked bodies felt, pressed together, feeling each
other's heartbeats and the flutters of our pulses.
   "Oh, Johnny.  I have never -- not with Hernando, not in my dreams, felt
anything like that," Rosalita whispered in my ear.  "You are a magnificent
lover." I felt her tongue tease my ear and then her lips kissing me here,
there and then finding my mouth and her tongue slipping inside to play with
my tongue yet again.  My cock throbbed in response and she moaned in
response to that and we both looked into each other's eyes as we both
realized that I was still hard and inside her loving pussy.
   "Please..." Rosalita said in a small voice.  "Make love to me, hijo."
   "Oh yes, Rosalita -- my mama Rosalita." I moaned in response.  As if we
were in a dream, we seemed to lose our balance and then I realized we were
somehow falling over on our side and then Rosalita's legs were wrapped
around me -- her solid, shapely legs crossing and pulling me into her as
she squirmed under me until we were in the missionary position.  She rolled
her hips and her mammoth breasts jiggled and bounced as she ground herself
upwards and said, "Take me, mi amado hijo.  Fuck Mama and make me scream."
   I began to thrust into Rosalita's welcoming, cum filled pussy slowly --
a bit unsure of myself, but each time I sank into her welcoming womb, I
grew more confident and began to respond to Rosalita's insistent whispers
to go faster, more forcefully.  Love and lust mixed in her face as old,
neglected hungers rose to the surface, demanding to be sated.  My lover
grinned happily as I blurted out, "I'm going to fuck you, Mama.  "I'm going
to fuck you, Rosalita and make you cum and cum and cum!"
   Our passionate lovemaking turned into carnal fucking as we slammed our
bodies together again and again, each thrust of my cock drawing a wailing
snarl from Rosalita as she dug her heels into my ass cheeks, urging me on
to fuck her harder and faster as her nails tore down my back.  As
Rosalita's face scrunched up in orgasmic joy, the visage of such raw
carnality only inflamed me more and our moans and cries as we fucked filled
the air even as the powerful aroma of semen and pussy cream filled the
room, inflaming us even more.
   Rosalita's orgasm came swiftly and savagely and I hung on for dear life
as she bucked and squirmed beneath me, spurring her on to new orgasmic
heights by ducking my head and gingerly biting her blood engorged nipples.
When her moans of pleasure faded as her orgasm receded, she looked at me
through teary eyes with such love, whispering in a scream hoarsened voice,
"Fuck me, hijo, fuck me my beloved son."
   Having already cum, I felt like I could last forever and I was
determined to give my new beloved as much pleasure as she could stand. 
Clinging to me, she let me thrust and pound into her flesh relentlessly,
burying my cock as deep as possible with each hard, powerful plunge into
her sweet pussy.  As she recovered from her orgasm, Rosalita began to
respond to my thrusts with movement of her own, twisting and writhing under
me, finding the most pleasurable positions for both of us.
   We scratched and clawed and kissed and bit as we fucked each other like
it might be the last time, knowing full well we could never give up what we
started.  We laughed and sobbed as the delicious carnality of it all swept
over us until we both reached the pinnacle of pleasure and began to orgasm,
both occurring so suddenly, neither of us were sure who began to climax
first.
   We exploded into orgasm, Rosalita sobbing happily as I filled her womb
with my semen a second time while she bathed my cock in her steamy juices,
her muscles lovingly massaging my throbbing penis.  In the afterglow of our
fiery lovemaking, we simply basked in the glory of it all -- saying little
as we stared into each other's eyes.
   At some point, I carried Rosalita to her bedroom and we fell asleep in
each other's arms.  It was a far better sleep than I had known in quite
sometime -- my dreams full of erotic moments with Rosalita and, I must
confess, sometimes my mother as well.  Throughout the dreams, I could sense
Mom's sexy, knowing smile all around us.  Maybe that's why I woke up with a
hard-on.  Maybe it was because I woke up snuggling with a lush bodied woman
who hand was gently stroking me, urging me awake.
   I found Rosalita staring at me, her beautiful dark eyes shining with
happiness that matched her lovely smile.  "It's real," she whispered with a
sense of wonder.  "I thought it was maybe another dream, but its real, mi
hijo, and you're with me.
   I discovered a truth then -- about the best lovemaking and how arousal
can be upon you in an instant.  Perhaps it was Rosalita's hand on my hard
cock -- maybe it was the sensation of her soft skin, hot and moist against
mine -- maybe it was the unknown pheromones in the air, and maybe it wasn't
any of those, but my hunger for my Rosalita was immediate and demanding,
brooking no refusal.
   "Maybe it is a dream, Rosalita," I breathed as my lips approached hers.
"If it is, I hope we never wake up." We kissed, tongues entangled as we
wrapped arms and legs around each other.  I felt more than heard Rosalita
sigh with happiness and knowing she was happy made me feel both content and
aroused.  I discovered another truth -- there is no sweeter lovemaking than
when you wake up next to someone you love and feel that desire sweep over
you -- knowing that desire is reflected in your lover as well.
   We made love for what seemed forever.  There was no rhyme or reason to
it -- we moved together agonizingly slow at some points and were like two
ravenous animals at other times.  I was on top, Rosalita was on top and
sometimes we were in between.  It was a dream in which we were joined
together in delicious pleasure, our eyes always locked on each other,
exploring -- learning each other as we discovered new heights of pleasure.
We screamed and whispered each other's names and took delight from the
incestuous overtones of speaking the words of son, momma, madre and hijo.
Our souls melded and became one and even when we again became conscious of
being two separate people, we kept special knowledge of each other that can
never be lost.
   Our final climax was of an intensity I never dreamed possible.  I felt
Rosalita's orgasm pulsing around me in her pussy and in the grip of her
firm thighs as I buried myself deep in her womb and emptied my seed.
   We could not satiate ourselves.  We never actually made it out of the
house that Saturday.  I bought her dinner -- a local Chinese restaurant
that delivered.  We feasted on the food and each other.  My long imagined
fantasies of Rosalita's full lips on my cock were realized as she gave me a
long, languorous blow job, bringing me to the instance of orgasm and then
easing off again and again until I was pleading for release.
   I discovered the mysteries of a woman's vagina, exploring through her
wild growth of bush to the pink, moist mysteries of her pussy, letting her
teach me to please a woman properly with my mouth.  I learned to use my
tongue and lips to best use as I made love to her labia, to her wet, slick
inner folds and her large, swollen clitoris.
   Saturday blended into Sunday and we had reduced our world to her bedroom
and our naked flesh and sweet sleep until we were both too sore to
continue. Then having learned each other's bodies, we began to learn more
about each other's hearts and minds and souls, talking and baring ourselves
to each other.
   I discovered a resilient, brave woman who had face horrible tragedy and
had sojourned on -- who had come back to life because of one young
man...because of me.  "That first day I saw you back in the fall I fell in
love you, Johnny.  I wanted you like I hadn't wanted anyone since Hernando.
And...  "Rosalita shook her head in wonderment as we cuddled in bed.  "I
kept thinking of my Juan and how I think he would be so much like you and I
imagined him as a young man and I began having fantasies about him.  In my
dreams you and he make love to me.  Sometimes together -- sometimes only
one of you and sometimes one of you becomes the other.
   Rosalita leaned over and kissed me and stroked my face.  "And sometimes,
mi hijo, my Juan would tell me that you were the one -- that all my dreams
would come true." She kissed me again and whispered, "And it did."
   We kissed for a while, hand gently caressing each other and then she
gave a shaky laugh.  "I guess you think I'm weird -- having these thoughts
about my Juan -- getting you two mixed up."
   I laughed and replied, "No, Rosalita, I don't." I confessed my own
attraction to older women and my own fantasies about my mother, butterflies
in my stomach as for the first time I told another human being about my
desire to make love to my Mom, and about my dreams where Rosalita and Mom
made love to me.
   Rosalita's eyes gleamed with excitement and I felt her hand close around
my penis which had grown rock hard during my confession.  "Mmmmm, mi hijo
is a naughty boy -- just talking about fucking your mother made you hard."
   "No," I replied.  "Talking about fucking my Mom and fucking you makes me
hard."
   Rosalita giggled and kissed me again, slowly stroking my cock.  "Well,
who know, mi hijo -- my dreams have come true, maybe yours will too."
   Her words sent a thrill through me.  "My dreams have come true,
Rosalita. I'm here, in bed, holding the woman I love."
   Rosalita cooed and said, "Mi hijo is such a sweet talker.  Well, I guess
Mama needs to reward him." She giggled again and slipped beneath the
covers, her mouth planting kisses down my chest and stomach and then I
gasped as she took me between her lips, her tongue circling the head of my
cock and then slowly began to suck me.
   "Ohhhh, Rosalita.  That's so sweet."
   From beneath the covers, I heard her murmur, "If you like, pretend it's
your mother, Johnny.  I won't be jealous." Then my sweet mature lover began
to suck my cock vigorously, making me squirm with delight.  My mind reeled
with her last words and I couldn't believe how amazing this woman was --
that it was a fucking shame that very few people knew the true noble nature
of this wonderful lady.
   Images of Rosalita and of Mom swam through my head as she sucked my
throbbing dick.  Rosalita reached out and took my hands, guiding them to
her head and tangling my fingers in her long, black hair.  Occasionally her
lips would slip off my cock and I would hear naughty words drifting up from
below before my shaft was again enveloped by her wonderful, warm mouth. 
"Mmmmm, Mama loves her son's cock.  Does mi hijo want to give Mommy his
cum?"
   It wasn't long before I was unable to hold back.  "Ohhh, Rosalita, I'm
going to cum!"
   "Her hand tightened around my shaft and I heard her whisper from beneath
the blanket, "Gooood.  Cum for me, son.  Cum in Mommy's mouth." Rosalita's
mouth covered the head of my cock again and I felt her tongue wash over the
tip and I groaned and began to shoot.  Her lips tightened around my dick
and I heard her groan approvingly as she swallowed my load.  I jerked and
quivered with each loving suck of Rosalita's mouth against my sensitive
flesh until she had drained me one last time.
   Eventually, I felt my lover moving upwards, her pendulous breasts
pillowing against my chest as her head emerged from the covers -- her long
black hair all awry and framing her smiling face.  "Ahhh, mi amado hijo --
so sweet and tasty." If I hadn't been in love with her already, I would
have fallen in love with her then -- she seemed so beautiful and happy.
   We spent most of Sunday in bed and I would have been happy to stay there
forever, but as the shadows gathered at dusk, I heard my cell phone
vibrating on her dresser table.  I sighed and crawled out from under the
warm covers and my naked lover and looked at it.  There was a text message:
WHERE R U?  MOM.
   I sent back a text: BE HOME SOON.  I turned back in bed and snuggled up
to Rosalita.  She was still smiling at me, but with a tinge of the old
sadness.  I kissed her and stroking her face, said, "This isn't over,
Rosalita -- this is just the beginning for us.  I don't ever want this to
stop."
   Rosalita sighed and kissed me back, long and lovingly.  Afterwards she
said, "I know -- I don't want it to stop either, but...we have to be
careful, Johnny.  You are so young -- this will be a scandal to a lot of
people -- your parents and friends and the school as well.  After you
graduate next month -- we can start planning our life, but for now -- this
should be our secret, yes?"
   I agreed and after we cuddled and kissed for another hour or so, I went
home -- not wanting to go and kissing my Rosalita at the door for what
seemed another hour.  We whispered our love to each other -- "Te quiero,"
and I left for home -- knowing full well, I was leaving much of my heart
behind.
   I don't remember much of the drive home -- my thoughts on my darling
Rosalita and replaying over and over the sweet moments of our weekend
together.  After I pulled into my driveway, I glanced at my watch and was
surprised to see that it was after ten o'clock.
   Entering the house, I could hear television noise in the living room and
walked in.  Mom was curled up on the couch.  Despite being exhausted from
weekend of incredible sex, I felt my cock stir at the sight of my Mom.  She
had her honey colored hair pulled back in a pony tail and was wearing a
short nightshirt that barely came past her crotch and had a scooped neck,
displaying the upper portions of her breasts.  Mom's tanned thighs were
displayed, the nightshirt just hinting of Mom's shapely ass cheeks.
   Mom turned her attention from the television and smiled at me.  "There's
my wandering son.  Where've you been?"
   I shrugged and mumbled, "Just hanging out -- you know -- the usual
stuff."
   Mom laughed and shook her head.  "I bet.  You been over at your new
girlfriend's house?"
   I could feel my face turning red, but I nodded and said, "Yeah, I've
been spending time with Rosalita." Then to change the subject, I asked,
"So, how was your and Dad's weekend?"
   Mom's bemused expression turned to one of irritation.  "Oh, it was a
blast.  Turns out our cabin had fishing gear and a stream full of trout a
quarter a mile away.  Your father had a wonderful time." She got up and
turned off the television.  "Sometimes, I think your father would have been
better off marrying someone who owned a bait and tackle shop."
   Obviously Mom's planned romantic weekend getaway didn't work out like
she planned and her frustration was plain.  I didn't know what to say --
after all, it wasn't like I could just reply, "Sorry you didn't get laid
this weekend, Mom." So, instead, I gave a shrug and said, "I reckon I'll go
to bed -- I got school tomorrow."
   Mom was padding towards the kitchen and just nodded and I went upstairs
to my room and sat down on my bed and suddenly felt absolutely exhausted
and to my amazement, lonely.  I never would have imagined that I could get
so addicted to having Rosalita next to me as I slept.
   I kicked off my shoes and had just tugged my T-shirt off when I heard my
bedroom door open.  I turned to see Mom walked in with some of my jeans
folded up into a neat stack.  "I did some wash when I got home and I..."
Mom stopped dead in her tracks and just gawped at me.  It confused me at
first and then I realized she was staring at Rosalita's claw marks on my
back.
   Mom stared for a long minute and then shook her head.  I was speechless
and waited for the yelling to start, but Mom sat the jeans down in a chair
and said, "Don't move, I'll be right back." She left and a few seconds
later, I heard her in her bathroom.
   Mom walked back in with a plastic bottle.  She walked around to sit next
to me, a funny little smile on her face.  "This will help heal you up,
Johnny," Mom said, uncapping the bottle and squirting some lotion into her
hand.  I could smell the flowery-perfume like fragrance.  "Turn around so I
can rub this onto your back."
   Still speechless, I did as I was told.  The lotion was cool and I admit
soothing and Mom's hands felt good on my back.  Mom began to talk as she
rubbed the lotion on me, her voice sounding somewhat odd.  "A woman doesn't
make these kind of scratches unless she's being incredibly pleasured,
Johnny." As her fingers rubbed and caressed my back, I felt my cock begin
to swell.  Her voice became even more strained.  "You must be a wonderful
lover, son."
   I was unable to reply, stunned at Mom's words.  Mom went on to fill the
tension filled silence in the room.  "I think your Rosalita is a very lucky
woman, Johnny."
   I finally managed to stammer, "Sh-she's a wonderful woman, Mom."
   Mom chuckled and put her arm around my shoulders, pulling me against
her. Inwardly, I groaned as I felt my side and my right arm press against
her large, firm breasts.  "I'm sure she is, honey.  I raised you -- I know
that any woman you fall for will be a good woman."
   Mom leaned into me and I felt her lips brush my cheek.  "Just remember
what I said, about getting in over your head with older women." My mother
stood up and faced me, standing agonizingly close -- the hem of her
nightshirt just scant inches from and below my face.  Mom leaned down and
looked into my eyes which were sorely pressed not to look at her breasts
which were almost spilling out of the scooped neck.
   Mom took her hand and tilted my head up a little so I was looking into
her eyes.  "Older women can be very dangerous, Johnny.  Older women can be
addictive and once you start, you might develop an appetite for older women
that you won't be able to control.
   Mom leaned in and kissed me on the corner of my mouth -- taking her
sweet time about it.  Her lips felt soft and so...arousing.  My cock was
throbbing with need -- I felt like I could cum at any moment.  Mom ended
the kiss by brushing her lips ever so gently across mine and then slowly
raised herself back up, offering me a generous view of her spectacular
tits. Mom smiled down at me with something more than motherly love -- a
look that stirred things up inside me and said, "Remember what I tell you,
son.  You get a taste for older women, there's no telling what it might
lead to."
   I watched Mom slowly walk to my bedroom door, her shapely legs so
enticing in that shortie nightshirt.  She looked back at me and I was
barely able to contain myself at not leap after her and throw her on the
bed and make love to her.  "I love you, son.  Sleep well."
   Mom closed the door as I hoarsely called out, "Good night, Mom.  I love
you too." I was so stunned I could not move.  After the mad, passionate
weekend I had just had with Rosalita, I wouldn't have thought there could
be anything that could have topped that, but I was sure Mom had just
offered herself to me.  Whatever else happened, I was pretty sure I wasn't
going to be getting much sleep.
   To be continued...
   pics--->> http://bit.ly/1D1q3qp
  
RosalitaCh01