========
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Mike10 Courtship of Eddie's Father MF
From: fr582@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Max S. Wojtylak)
Date: 30 Jun 1996 17:35:05 GMT



If you like this story, please archive it.












COURTSHIP OF EDDIE'S FATHER: Mrs. Livingston, I Presume

By Uncle Mike


     Tom Corbett did up the clasps on his son's suitcase and 
hoisted it off the bed.

     "OK, Tiger, that should do it," he said, tousling Eddie's hair 
as he led the little boy toward the living room. "Now, 
remember: You do everything Mr. or Mrs. Gilstrup tell you to 
do, just like you'd mind me or Mrs. Livingston. No horsing 
around, no back talk. Understand? Great."

     As they came into the room, Sarah Gilstrup got up. "All 
ready?" she asked in her reedy voice. "Are you ready to spend 
the night with us, Eddie? I know Billy's looking forward to it."

     Eddie nodded, but there was a tiny tear in his eye as he 
took her hand and walked out the door. At the last second, he 
turned and looked back -- and then ran and hugged his dad, 
who squatted down to meet him. "Hey, Tiger, what's wrong?"

     "Nothing," Eddie said into his dad's shoulder. "It's just ... 
I'm gonna miss you."

     "I'll miss you too, Eddie," Tom said, rising to his feet 
again. "But it's just for one night. And you and Billy can play 
together and watch TV and everything. And I'll be by bright 
and early tomorrow morning to pick you up. Have fun!" He 
shooed them out the door, figuring it would be better to get 
Eddie on his way before his second thoughts had third 
thoughts.

     He'd hurried home from work at the magazine so he could 
be there to send Eddie off, but now he had a couple of hours to 
kill until his date with Karen. He smiled at the thought, a 
broad grin that showed off his pearly white teeth. Karen was 
someone very special. She wasn't wife material (at the 
thought, a brief cloud passed over his face as he thought of 
Eddie's mom) but she was definitely bed material. Karen was a 
stewardess with a perfect body, tanned and shapely. And 
judging by his progress in their first two dates, tonight's 
third would be the one. She'd even made a point of telling him 
her roommates would be out of town for the weekend. Tom's 
cock throbbed at the thought, pressing against his shorts.

     Just as he was musing over Karen's readiness, however, 
the phone rang. He grabbed it up, half-afraid that some crisis 
at the office would have his secretary begging him to come 
back.

     No such luck. Instead, it was Karen. Apparently some kind 
of flu bug was knocking out the airline's staff left and right; 
she'd have to fill in on an overseas flight leaving in just an 
hour.

     "I'm really sorry, Tom," she cooed. "I was really looking 
forward to tonight." She paused. "Really."

     As he hung up, Tom cursed his luck. Just the sound of 
Karen's voice had gotten him harder, and the promise in that 
last "really" had almost made him cum. But now he had nothing 
to do and no one to do it with.

     He paced the apartment like a lion, stopping here to pick up 
a book and toss it down in disgust, there to dig through the 
kitchen shelves but find nothing that caught his eye. The blood 
was hot in his veins and he was like a caged animal, desperate 
for release. Finally his eye settled on his old bike, shoved into 
a corner of his closet two years ago. Maybe he'd go for a ride, 
that might help. He hauled it out and tried it out: it was balky 
and the tires were flat. In a half-frenzy he yanked open 
drawers and ran his hands along shelves everywhere until he 
came up with a wrench and a can of oil. 

     He wheeled the bike into the bathroom and took it apart, 
oiling here, tightening there. But when he tried to put it back 
together, he ended up with two or three pieces left over and 
now the wheels wouldn't turn at all. He almost threw the bike 
against the wall in disgust, but he caught himself and shoved 
it back into the closet instead. As he did, he caught a glimpse 
of himself in the mirror. He was covered with oil and grime.

     Eager for anything to do, he decided to shower off the crud. 
He turned the taps on full blast and stripped, dropping his 
filthy clothes into the hamper and stepping under the steamy 
blast.

     The jets of hot water tingled as they blasted into his body. 
He took his time, lathering up and rinsing off again and again. 
It didn't help much with his other problem; his cock was still 
mostly erect. Maybe, he thought, I should have tried a cold 
shower -- but even under the hot mist he shivered at the 
thought. Finally he shut off the taps and the spray petered off 
to a few drips.

     As the water stopped, he heard an noise that seemed to 
come from somewhere in the apartment. He paused, listening 
hard. Must be hearing things, he thought. He began to pull back 
the sliding door on the shower.

     He could never decide, thinking back on it later, which 
happened first: Did he remember that Mrs. Livingston had 
taken the afternoon off because she was coming in that 
evening to finish her cleaning while he and Eddie were both 
gone -- or did he do that only after he saw the little Asian 
woman staring at him?

     It didn't much matter, anyway, considering what happened 
next.

     Tom stood half in and half out of the shower stall. Water 
was still dripping off his well-muscled body, matting down 
his dark hair. His cock was still erect, pointing directly at 
Mrs. Livingston.

     She was in a simple housedress, her hand still on the 
doorknob, her mouth open.

     Finally she spoke, in a strangled whisper. "Mr. Eddie's 
father!"

     He took a step toward her and reached out a hand in what 
he thought was a calming gesture. She didn't seem to get the 
message. She shrank back against the sink, her hands grabbing 
behind her for support. She was a small, compact Asian 
woman, dark hair pulled back tightly from her face. Though 
she was a godsend around the house, Tom had never felt 
completely comfortable around her, and the situation 
certainly didn't make things any easier this time.

     "I thought..." she said.

     "My date..." he said.

     "... you go out tonight," she finished.

     "... canceled on me," he finished.

     "Oh," she said, but from the look on her face she didn't 
seem to understand at all. "I go now."

     "No," Tom said. What he meant was, no, you can still clean. 
But as he said it, he took another step forward -- he had 
spotted a towel on the rack next to the sink and he was going 
for it. Mrs. Livingston's eyes widened and she looked around 
for an escape route. In the same second that she turned and 
darted for the door, Tom lunged for the towel -- almost 
tackling her.

     "No, Mr. Eddie's father, no!" she shouted, ducking down 
beneath his arm.

     "Mrs. Livingston," he said, trying to get out of her way. But 
his wet feet slipped on the tiles and he had to lunge out for 
support. The closest thing to grab, as it happened, was Mrs. 
Livingston.

     She began to lose her balance as well and they fell over, 
almost in slow motion, as their hands grabbed for the walls 
and doors but couldn't get any secure grips.

     They ended up on the floor, Tom on top. His hard cock was 
pressing against Mrs. Livingston's belly. The pressure drew 
forth an instinctive response, and he rubbed himself against 
her. She tried to wiggle away, but that only increased the 
friction on his cock, exciting him even more.

     "Mr. Eddie's father, please," she pleaded, and Tom realized 
what he'd been doing. He struggled to his feet. As he did, Mrs. 
Livingston's dress stuck to his damp skin. By the time he was 
standing up he had managed to pull it up to her chest.

     He looked down. He had never thought of the Japanese 
woman as at all sexy; she always wore unflattering clothes. 
He never was really sure how old she was; it's always hard to 
tell with Asian women.

     But as he looked down, his image of her changed quickly. At 
least from the stomach down, she was built like a Barbie doll: 
flat stomach, swelling hips, well-curved legs. A small pair of 
red cotton panties at her crotch was slightly askew, and a 
few curly black hairs showed around the edges. My God, he 
thought, she may not be young anymore but she's still got it. 
The doll-like look of Asian women had always excited him; 
they looked frail enough to break if you touched them, but hot 
enough that he always wanted to fuck any one he saw. And 
now he could.

     He stood over her without moving. She seemed to get over 
her initial shock as she lay on the floor and when she looked 
up at him now, it was without the deer-in-the-headlights 
look she'd had in the bathroom. Instead, she seemed to be 
appraising him. 

     Then, to Tom's surprise, Mrs. Livingston grabbed the hem of 
her dress in both hands and lifted it over her head as she sat 
up.

     As she tossed the dress aside, he saw the curves of her 
small breasts as they disappeared into a demure white bra. 
Her skin was a pale yellow, almost golden. It seemed to 
glisten in the sunlight streaming in from the living room 
windows as she stood up.

     She took a step toward him and turned around. "You do?" 
she asked over her shoulder, and Tom reached down and 
unhooked her bra. As he stepped forward and put his arms 
around her, cupping her dainty breasts in his big hands, his 
cock pressed into the middle of her back. She wiggled back 
against it. Confused thoughts flickered through his brain: had 
she been sending out signals all along? How had he missed 
them? He must really be out of practice.

     With his arms still around her, Mrs. Livingston led Tom 
into the bedroom. He had to take small steps to match hers, 
and his cock rubbed up and down her back as they walked.

     As they got inside the little woman turned toward him. 
With a sparkle in her eye she looked him up and down. "Mr. 
Eddie's father very big man," she said, nodding her head. "But 
Mrs. Livingston can take, I think."

     Tom smiled. "I think -- I think you can take me very well, 
Mrs. Livingston."

     She took a step back and sat down on the edge of the bed, 
motioning him forward. He saw her small lips open into an "O" 
as the tip of his fat cock bobbed in front of her. Her breath 
was a warm breeze on his shaft as she looked up at him.

     "Mr. Eddie's father," she said, "I think about this time lots. 
Maybe you do, too?" 

     He smiled and nodded. He was certainly thinking about it 
now. "Put my cock in you," he murmured. "I want you to taste 
me."

     "I hope you like," she said as she moved slightly forward, 
taking the head of his cock into her mouth.

     Her motion was easy but tantalizingly slow as she took 
him in bit by bit. With her small hands she grasped the base of 
his cock, too long to fit in her throat, and stroked gently. Tom 
reached down and massaged her breasts, watching the small 
nipples blossom in the middle of the tiny brown circles until 
they stood out stiffly.

     Meanwhile Mrs. Livingston increased her pace and brought 
him to orgasm, swallowing his load as he shot it down her 
throat.

     "Now Mr. Eddie's father do me?" she said coyly, sliding 
back on the bed.

     "I'm afraid I don't have much experience at this," he said, 
ducking his head. 

     "Is all right, Mr. Eddie's father. I teach," she said softly, 
spreading her legs and exposing the pink lips of her pussy to 
him.

     Tom crawled onto the bed and bent his head to her. She 
instructed him in her broken English as he learned to please 
her, licking and suckling all the places she pointed out. As her 
passion grew a heady odor rose from her cunt and juices began 
to flow.

     "Put finger in, Mr. Eddie's father," she said huskily. "Put 
finger in now!"

     He did as she instructed, burying his index finger in her 
soaking-wet tunnel. She trembled all over when he slid it 
home and then urged him on as Tom stroked her to a bucking 
orgasm.

     "Very good," she said, and Tom noticed it was the same 
tone of voice she used when Eddie remembered to put his dirty 
clothes in the hamper. He found sex with an older woman -- or 
at least what he guessed was an older woman -- far more 
exciting than he ever would have dreamed. It made him feel 
young again, being schooled in the ways of love by an 
apparently expert teacher.

     His cock had grown thick and hard again, and Mrs. 
Livingston lifted her legs up and motioned him forward. Eager 
to obey, he placed his cock at her slippery pussy lips and slid 
it in.

     "My God, you're tight," he said in surprise. In response, the 
little woman pursed her lips as she squeezed her vaginal 
muscles. He felt them grab his cock and then let go. She 
squeezed and released again and again, drawing him near an 
orgasm before she let up.

     This time he took charge, easing his cock further in until 
it was buried to the hilt. 

     "See, Mr. Eddie's father," she said, "You are big, but I can 
take it." And she began to move with his thrusts, bucking her 
hips against him as she raised her head up and softly nuzzled 
his hairy chest.

     Shifting his weight from one arm to the other, Tom kept up 
the erotic rhythm. "You fuck very nice," Mrs. Livingston huffed 
and puffed, "Very nice. I like very muuuuuuccchh!" Another 
orgasm caught her by surprise and almost lifted her off the 
bed, but the pistoning of Tom's cock pinned her to the 
mattress again and again. "Damn, you're tight," he muttered as 
he felt her velvet walls grip his shaft. 

     At last he felt his cum boil up and explode out of him, 
blasting into her hot cunt. But as soon as he had shot his wad 
and his cock had started to wither, Mrs. Livingston grasped it 
with her vaginal muscles and massaged it back to hardness.

     "Mrs. Livingston, you've got a talented cunt!" he gasped, 
feeling his cock swell to fill her pussy again. Her only reply 
was to wiggle her ass, sending a shiver of ecstasy through his 
entire body.

     Again they took up the primal motion. Mrs. Livingston 
locked her legs around Tom's waist as she tried to take him, 
as she shouted, "Deeper! Deeper, please, deeper! Give me all of 
it!"

     "You'll get it all," Tom groaned. "I'm gonna fill that tight 
cunt of yours with cum!"

     "Yes, Mr. Eddie's Father! Fill my cunt!"

     Tom's final orgasm, when it came, was a blast of passion 
that left him drenched in sweat while Mrs. Livingston 
convulsed beneath him in the throes of her own cumming.

     As he rolled off her a few minutes later, Mrs. Livingston 
gave out a small sigh as his now-shriveled cock popped out of 
her cunt. Tom closed his eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep, 
waking only when Mrs. Livingston shook him.

     "Mr. Eddie's father, I leaving now," she said. He blinked and 
rubbed his eyes, looking around. It was dark now, just the 
glow of a bedside lamp illuminating the room. Mrs. Livingston 
had gotten dressed and -- he glanced around -- apparently 
cleaned up, too.

     "I left bed unmade," she said with a giggle. "You fix?"

     "Yes, sure, I'll do it," Tom said groggily.

     "Thank you. I come next week!" With that, Mrs. Livingston 
turned and wiggled her Japanese behind at him as she left.

     Tom looked after her, still staring at the doorway long 
after she'd gone. By the time he got up the next morning, he 
almost thought he must have dreamed everything.

     But when he reached into his underwear drawer for a fresh 
pair, something crinkled. He fished it out: a note written in 
Mrs. Livingston's tiny handwriting.

     "Mr. Eddie's father," she wrote, "You one very good fuck. I 
think it would be very good thing if Eddie go to his friend's 
house all next weekend, yes?" It was signed, not "Mrs. 
Livingston," but with an imprint of her lips in her pale pink 
lipstick.

     He carefully folded the note and put it back in the drawer. 
Yes, he said to himself, it was time Eddie learned to be a 
little more independent.

     







