Columns: Back to School by Drunken Slut Mum

As a mum, who has the pastime, or affliction, of being a drunken slut, one has to grab opportunities with both hands, even if there are only minutes to spare…

I walk briskly through the school gates, trying to avoid eye contact with the other parents. I try not to stand too close to anyone, just in case they catch a whiff of the three glasses of red wine I’ve just downed. I tuck a bedraggled strand of hair behind my ear and try to appear normal, in control, sensible mum.

Does anyone suspect? Do I have a scarlet aura of sluttiness?

Not ten minutes ago I was naked, my body shaking from top to toe in waves of bliss.

The Man had invited me over for lunch. It was one o’clock but I knew the two hours before the school run would melt away.

We ate, we talked, we drank red wine, his sky blue eyes drawing me closer, completely eradicating any resolve I had to keep my clothes on. As he took me upstairs, I ached for his already hard penis. By now it was already two o’clock…

He eased my breasts out of their wire and fabric cage, gently but firmly kissing and sucking my nipples as I stroked his solid erection and frantically unfastened his jeans wanting to feel it in my mouth.

I sucked and licked and nibbled from the smooth, shiny end to the harder, rougher trunk, trailing my tongue down the shaft, feeling him pushing it further into my mouth, wanting more and more… I briefly paused, searching the room for a clock – 2.15, forty-five minutes left…

As I slowly lay back on the bed, he followed me, kissing me, pulling off my jeans, finding my clitoris with his fingers, moving, lightly, faster, faster, faster. I closed my eyes as waves of a beautiful sea engulfed me, first little shallow peaks, then bigger waves, higher, crashing and lifting my body. ..2.25 – I needed him to enter me now, my hungry inner beast craved it and time was running out.

As he went in, I gasped with the satisfaction of someone having a drink after being thirsty for a very long time. Everything fitted together so well. His penis was like a hand in the right glove, the lid clicking on the pen, the missing jigsaw piece slotting into place.

We moved in harmony, as I felt him deeper inside me. As he flipped me over, I saw it was 2.35 – 25 minutes and so much still to do!

He pounded me harder, faster. I made him even faster as I rocked my hips backwards and forwards. My mind drifted as my insides yearned for him to never stop. But it was 2.45! I could barely speak, but managed to say ‘we have to stop!’

We rolled over and kissed softly. I was now on top of him and his lips felt so soft that I couldn’t tear myself away and I felt his still erect penis slowly slipping inside my now soaking-wet vagina. 2.55.

I jumped up – quick decisive action was the only thing for it. And a picture in my head of a tearful little girl, all alone after everyone else had gone. I quickly pulled my clothes on, not even checking a mirror to see what state I was in and ran down the road to school.

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