PLAY DATE WITH JULIE by Joris K. Huysmans

One thing I never thought about while I was selling my company-- typical technology startup, we made WAPs that statically randomized BIPs for IIPs-- was, what the hell was I going to do all day once it was sold?

I worked out in the morning, and I found a favorite little coffee place where I could shoot the shit with perky little blonde chicks with nose rings. But I didn't want to hang out there more than an hour or so, turn into the old guy (all of 42) who keeps bothering the perky blonde chicks.

So then I found a park in the neighborhood which I'd never paid much attention to because it seemed to mainly be for kids. Now, though, it was kind of pleasant to kill an hour or so before lunch, listening to my iPod and watching the little buggers running around, laughing and yelling and burning off enough energy to power a skyscraper. (Note: idea for new startup-- harness kid energy)

It wasn't long before I realized that there were a lot of other people coming there every day, too-- by which I mean moms, with a few Caribbean nannies thrown in. Pretty soon I was nodding to a few of them as I arrived each day, and sometimes turning off my iPod and eavesdropping on their conversations.

The moms were all pretty much in the same place in life. They'd dropped out of their jobs to raise their kids, and they weren't exactly sorry they'd done it. But at the same time, their lives had gone from managing global marketing to managing full diapers and the equitable distribution of Cheetos, and they were often bored and desperate to have a conversation about something other than sparkly rainbow elves or who hit who.

I was just contemplating all this when one of the moms, standing a few feet away, turned to me and said "Isn't it amazing, how at this age they can just walk up to anybody and make friends?"

I pulled my earbuds out and saw who she was talking about-- a couple of two-year-olds who had just met and were now deeply engrossed in a game of making pizzas. "Yeah, it'd be great if they can keep that skill growing up," I said, somewhat inanely, but then I'd been caught a little off guard.

"I'm Julie," the woman said, offering her hand. She was typical of the moms here, the manner of a formerly buttoned-up business person but now she was dressed in a spaghetti strap top and gray sweats which neither showed off nor hid her broad, dumpy butt and the large mammaries smashed down in a jog bra. As I looked at her, though, I kind of thought the extra pounds softened her face-- once it might have been kind of harsh and angular, framed by blonde hair as straight as a ruler, but now, rounded out, she had a nice smile and even a dimple or two. A Mom face.

"Steve," I said, taking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Which one's yours?" she asked.

Aha. She might be striking up a pleasant conversation but there was also a little Mom recon in action, making sure the guy hanging out in the park wasn't a threat. Well, I didn't build a company without knowing how to bullshit past a gotcha question.

"The little guy-- over there-- in the Gap Kids outfit-- the one who's playing with the other kid--" I said.

She seemed to pick out one who she thought I meant from that description, and nodded. "He's cute," she said.

"Thanks. Yeah, he's my little tiger." We chatted about kids, and a little about our past work lives, and this and that-- you know, the stuff Moms talk about at the park. Eventually she and her kids had to go, so I said goodbye, and walked over toward the jungle gym as if I were going over to my kid, making sure she and hers were gone before I got there and had to pick one.

*  *  *

Julie and I chatted a couple of times over the next week or so, and I often got drawn into the broader conversations between several of the moms as well. As they talked about kids, and shopping, and their busy husbands, I began to pick up on a certain amount of personal frustration with their home life as well. I mean, with their life in the bedroom.

That got me thinking, in an idle sort of way. I'd usually dated younger gals, smart up-and-comers in my company who had, shall we say, No Problem with sleeping with the boss-- but now that avenue was cut off to me. And frankly, being of a certain age myself, well, I'm not saying that a pretty young thing with the legs of a giraffe didn't turn my head and stir my loins when she went by, especially in this day where they liked to show off half their pelvis, but I've always been ecumenical in my tastes, and hey, even if these moms had gotten a little chunky, well, some of them looked damn fine to me. I had nothing against big floppy post-baby tits, or a squishy round ass big enough to knead bread on.

I started finding ways to turn the conversation toward sex without bringing up sex as such. When Julie said something about not having any time with her husband as a couple any more, I jumped in. "I know, that's so important," I said. "You have to find that time together. I think that's maybe one of the reasons why we..." I trailed off, not wanting to invent too many details about my fictitious tiger's equally fictitious mom, from whom I was fictitiously divorced, apparently. But I bit my lip to show sadness and guilt. "Maybe you should get a babysitter and then go get a hotel room, so you're completely out of the house and the two of you..."

"Yeah, well, I don't know how much interest there is," she said ruefully.

"Really? My, er, hmm-hrm's libido really went up after he was born," I said. "I mean, sure, we were too tired a lot of the time, but she--"

"I'm interested," she said. "Sometimes I'm REALLY interested. But he..."

"Oh," I said. There was silence for a minute.

"Maybe if I can get rid of a few pounds--"

"Why?" I said sharply.

"Why?" She seemed surprised that the question even needed to be asked.

"Yeah, why? You look great. If you don't mind my saying so."

"No, I don't mind a bit," she said. "But you don't think..."

"Hell no," I said. "You look like who you are. There's no reason to try to shrink down to who you were in high school. You're the woman you ought to be. Don't think guys don't notice you and admire you, either. And if your husband can't see that and love it, he's a damned fool who's forgotten how he used to look at the moms when he was in high school."

"Really," she said, thoughtfully. And then she switched the conversation to storytime sessions at the local bookstore.

We talked about that kind of stuff for a few more minutes, and then she said she had to go. But before she did she paused, and I looked up at her, and she hesitated, and then she finally said:

"Maybe we could have a play date sometime-- our kids, I mean..."

*  *  *

I called up my former office manager, now a mom herself. We stayed in contact regularly because she got me weed. "Brenda, I need a kid."

"Well, first you got to find a nice girl, and then you got to get down with her--"

"No, I need to borrow yours for an afternoon. Wouldn't you like a break some afternoon?"

"Hell, take him for the week if you want. He's about to drive me-- Terrell, put the cordless drill down. No, it does not tickle the cat, it stops him from living. Don't make me come over there! Yeah, sure, no problem. You can have him as long as you want."

*  *  *

We rang the doorbell. Julie opened the door, with her daughter Courtney at her side, and then she looked down and her face clouded over. Of course, one thing I hadn't thought about until I picked Terrell up was the fact that he was black. Pretty light, his dad's Latino, but still, black.

"This is Terrell," I said to Courtney, and pushed him toward her. They immediately disappeared into the house to play.

"Funny, I remembered him being... Caucasian," she said, confused.

"I think it's wrong to impose rigid racial roles on children this early," I said. "Let them explore the different possibilities at their own speed, don't you agree?"

"Uh, sure," Julie said as she led me into the kitchen. She'd dolled up a little for our play date, without making it too obvious-- a thin blouse which revealed a little cleavage (and her big mom-tits were quite attractive), those short straight-legged pants that end around the ankles and hug the butt, and sandals with a slight heel to them. The effect was sexier while preserving deniability.

She picked up a glass of wine. "Would you like some chardonnay?" she asked. I must have looked disapproving or something, because she blushed a little and hurriedly said, "I never drink in the day, but it seemed like it might be nice to--"

I took a glass and offered it in a toast. "To making friends easily, and becoming better ones," I said, and we clinked glasses.

I took a small sip; she took a large one. "Well, the kids seem to be getting along," she said.

"It's beautiful," I said. "If only we adults could fall into... friendship that easily."

She set her glass down and fanned herself. "I must not have had much to eat for breakfast, it's really going to my head." She sort of stumbled in her shoes and wound up much closer to me, brushing her arm against mine. So that was how she wanted to play it-- accidental touching getting more and more frequent. I looked down at her-- and then grabbed her around the waist and kissed her.

Her tongue darted hungrily inside my mouth as her arms went around my back. She reached under my shirt and began feeling my back and chest, so I did the same thing, lifting her blouse over her head and revealing her plump, Goodyear-blimp boobs inside a thin white bra, fat nipples pushing against the fabric, wanting to be let free and get some attention. She reached behind and unsnapped the bra and they cascaded loose, an avalanche of chubby mom-boob bouncing down the slope of her stomach.

She led me to the couch and she sat down on it but I knelt before her and took those glorious fat breasts in my hands. As I sucked on the nipple of one she moaned, kicking off her shoes and making me admire the toes at the end of her puffy little feet. I rubbed my face between her breasts before licking the other nipple, and as I did she started to wriggle out of her pants, thin purple thong underwear stretched over her broad hips.

I nuzzled my way down her stomach and down to where wisps of hair stuck out from the front of her thong. I put my arms under her ass and luxuriated, for the moment, in the feel of her big, wide, soft mom-ass, that expanse of smooth curvy skin, the weight of her. I tugged her down the couch and pulled the thong off to reveal the wrinkled purple lips of her pussy, mashed together. My tongue moistened them and they began to separate. I went over them again and they opened wide, she moaned as I smeared my tongue over her pussy, felt her pussy juice coat my nose and my face as I dove into that steamy, slippery place.

Really, what was there not to like about the vision above my head-- the big droopy tits, the soft rolls of tummy, the broad, sturdy hips? Her husband was an idiot if he couldn't see the sexiness of what his wife had become, but I was happy to help keep things happy at home.

Suddenly she had had enough of me licking her pussy for the moment, and, grunting inchoately, she pulled me up onto the couch, then began unbuckling my belt as she licked and then-- yow!-- bit one of my nipples. She whipped my pants and boxers down and in an instant she had my cock in her mouth, licking up the side, moaning as she held it against her cheek, rubbed it over her face and eyes as she licked at my balls. I reached for her tits as she did that and she soon got the message, smiling broadly at me as she pressed her tits around my cock and rubbed them up and down around the shaft.

Then she climbed on top of me and I felt her pussy suck my cock inside as the full weight of her hips came crashing down on mine. The couch wasn't exactly the perfect place for getting a good rhythm but she didn't care, she wanted a cock in her so badly, and I just enjoyed the sight of all this juicy, abundant womanhood fucking so hard on top of me, her big droopy tits flying every which way, her belly jigging as my cock went inside her, her ass quaking with each thrust on top of me. It was great to just feel her all over, from her tummy to her tits, as she flailed away on top of me--

And then from upstairs one of the kids yelled "Mommy, I need my poopy changed!"

She stopped, looked at me with a "what are you gonna do" look, and climbed off, motioning to me not to move. She put her clothes back on and disappeared for a moment; I heard her talking to the kids, then washing her hands, then locking the gate at the top of the stairs.

When she came back I was standing in the doorway. I took her by the hand and kissed her, slowly and more romantically than the hungry face-sucking we'd started out with. She let her clothes drop off again and then she led me down the hall to a guest bedroom. She lay down on the bed but I motioned to her to turn over onto her stomach, showing me that broad, beautiful butt.

I climbed on top of her, cradling my cock in the crack of her ass, nuzzling her neck with my lips. I moved down slowly, kissing my way down her back, then arrived at her bountiful ass and began to rub my face on it, squeezing her chubby hams together. Then I pulled them apart and started to lick my way down the crack until I reached her asshole. I tickled the wrinkled hole with the tip of my tongue; she moaned rapturously. I licked at it harder, swirling around, opening it up, and her butt began to rise and buck back against my tongue.

I reached my hand into her sopping pussy and came up with a bunch of slippery wet juice, and rubbed that against the hole, allowing one of my fingers to slip inside. She grabbed the pillow and bit into it with a growl of delight. As my finger went in and out she fucked it more and more vigorously with her ass, and it was obvious she was ready.

I propped her big ass up in the air and stuck my cock into her pussy to get it wet again. She made some sort of noise of disappointment but then she understood as I pulled out and pressed the head against her ass. Slowly I felt her ring open up and then my head popped inside and she moaned "Oh fuck, fuck yes, do it," and I began to fuck in and out of her ass as she reached back and began to rub her clit.

One of the kids yelled "He's not sharing!" but without missing a beat she yelled back "Play nice or I'm coming up there!" as she continued to ride my greasy shaft with her plump, quivering ass. We fucked like that and then she pulled off of me and turned around, holding onto my cock. She grabbed a package of baby wipes and quickly wiped my cock clean, leaving it with a slight scent of sandalwood, then sucked my cock again, pumping the shaft vigorously until my first spurt shot into her mouth and was quickly swallowed. She opened her mouth, letting the next spurt splash over her tongue and dribble down into her tits; I pulled out of her mouth and shot four or five more times on her tits, then grabbed them and starting licking my milk off of them. When my mouth was full I kissed her and she stuck her tongue in my mouth and sucked the cum out of my mouth, swallowing it.

We fell back on the bed, exhausted for the moment. I held her against me, enjoying the motherly warmth of her soft, abundant body. "Will I see you again?" she finally asked.

"If you want to, I'd love to," I said. "Although you really ought to find some way to make your husband appreciate how wonderful you are, without any clothes on and with the kids put to bed."

"Yeah," she said, sadly. "Maybe I just needed a little shot of confidence for that."

"I'll gladly shoot my confidence all over you again," I said, and kissed her deeply, holding her tight, feeling her curvy bottom in my hands, her big breasts pressed against me. "Whatever you want to do."

"Well," she said, "we have Gymboree Monday, a mom's group Tuesday, swimming lessons Wednesday and storytime Friday. How would Thursday be for fucking me in the ass?"