[+18] Regards to Your Mommsy [The MILF Series] | Ep. 1

When I got the job offer, I almost went crazy. 

It was on a Thursday morning. I had just finished about two hours of workout; jogging, dumb bells, push ups and the rest of the package. I swiped open my phone to read new chats, when I saw the notification from my Gmail.

I couldn’t believe it. I have been unemployed for two years and the hope of getting a job was waning. I was starting to get used to the job hunting process which was like an endless roller coaster ride.


The interviews were the highs and the rejections were the lows. So when AgroTech Consulting Limited offered me the post of Assistant IT operator, I nearly went crazy.

The first thing I did was to screenshot the email. I was afraid I might wake up the next day and find that it had disappeared from my mailbox or that my eyes had conspired with the firm to fool me. Don’t blame me, it is how you reason when you’ve been jobless for so long.

The job offer came with a fat pay check, and some fringe benefits as well, chief among which was unlimited data. I was euphoric. So excited was I that I overlooked something important. Something that almost cost me my new job.

AgroTech is located in Ikoyi but I live in Alagbado, a suburb of Lagos. My first week on the job was almost a disaster. The journey from Alagbado to the island took me 3 to 4 hours.

I got to work late and got home even later. I slept less at home and dozed more at work. It affected my performance. And I had to find a solution, fast, before my boss noticed.

Renting an apartment seemed impossible due to the neck breaking rates. Not knowing what to do, I confided in a network of friends.

I was elated when Albert Akinwale, an ex-school mate asked me to come and live with his family pending when I can get my own accommodation. Little did I know the course my life was about to take.

The Akinwales are a family of four, that’s because I do not include Laide, the firstborn who lives in the USA and Mr. Akinwale, who had died five years earlier. Mrs Akinwale (also know as Mummy Laide) is a typical Lagos socialite who partied hard on the weekends. She owns a string of fashion stores both on the mainland and the island. 

She and her children; Albert, Dolapo and Ewatomi live in a semi detached house in Ikoyi – about 15 minutes away from AgroTech.

I moved into Albert’s room on a Sunday evening and we joked that it was like reliving our undergraduate days as room mates in Sodeinde Hall.

The Akinwales proved to be a nice family. Not once did I feel like a stranger. I even got added to the Akinwales' WhatsApp group page in less than two months.

I love Saturdays, Saturday mornings especially. It is the only day I have left to do serious workout, ever since I joined AgroTech. Sundays are for church and family. 

I don't joke with my workouts. I mean, I need to maintain my 6'1 muscular body. 

Something slightly odd happened one Saturday, about three months after I moved in. I never gave it much thought till two Saturdays.

I woke up by 6:30am and stepped out of the house to jog. I increased my pace a bit when I got to Falomo and from there I jogged to Obalende. I did 4 laps round TBS then I jogged back home.

I pulled off my sweat soaked track jacket and headed for the kitchen. My water bottle was empty and I was thirsty as hell.

I met Mummy Laide (Mrs. Akinwale) in the kitchen. 
"Mama!" I hailed her. "Good morning ma." I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
"Morning my dear." I could hear the smile in her voice. She always spoke to me with a smile. "You must be famished. I'm making potatoes and eggs."

I drank the 75cl in four gulps. "Sounds great." I noticed she had been staring at me while I was drinking from the bottle. 

Now she was walking towards me.
"Wale, do you think I can slim down a bit?"

I took a good look at her. Mrs Akinwale is 52, dark and plump with curves everywhere (just the way African men like their women). She was in front of me dressed in a silk skyblue nightgown, the lenght of which barely reached her knees. 
"Of course, you can slim down, if you want to. But personally, I think you look gorgeous this way."

Words won't suffice to describe the way she blushed and looked at me. She lifted her right hand and placed her fingers on my heaving sweat glistening chest. She slowly traced a line down my abs. "Aww. You're flattering me." Her fingers stopped below my navel, on top of the band of my track pants.

Two week later, on a Saturday evening, Mummy Laide came back home from an owambe, she complained about being tired and of body aches.

Albert was weekending at his girlfriend’s apartment in Surulere, he has been doing that consistently for the past one month. Dolapo had informed the family on the WhatsApp group that he would be staying back in school for the weekend. 

And Ewatomi was in the kitchen baking pastries with her best friend, it was their favorite past time. I was in the living room, watching a movie while arguing about the EPL on twitter.

Mummy Laide came to the living room 20 minutes after she got in and asked me to come help her rub a special ointment on her back. That was no big deal to me. I had seen Ewatomi rub the ointment on her mom’s back on two occasions.

I sat at the edge of Mummy Laide's bed, while she lay on her front. She had just stepped out of the bathroom, so she had only a wrapper about her body. She adjusted the wrapper and her back was laid before me; from her head to the top of her waist.

I rubbed my palms together after I had poured some ointment in them. I splayed my hands on Mummy Laide's bare back and began to make a slow swirling motion. 

This was perfectly normal to me. I had massaged my own mom’s right foot once when she sprained it.

“You’re moving your hands like a girl. Make it firm.” Mummy Laide said from the corner of her mouth.

I laughed. I steadied my hands. Then I teased her that if her friends should call that there was another party in 5 minutes I was sure she would forget her pains and go. She laughed.

I moved my hands to the place where her shoulder blades pushed against her skin. I gently rubbed and pressed it.

“Spread your hands to the sides.” She ordered.

I did. My hands began to brush against the sides of her breasts. She spread her arms away from her body. That exposed more of her breasts. They felt soft and supple.

She made a soft throaty sound whenever my fingers brush against them. The sound she made felt like she was urging me on. It made warm blood flow down to my groin area.

Half absentmindedly, I slipped each of my hands underneath her sides and gently squeezed the sides of her breasts. “Mmm” she moaned. It was unexpected.

I quickly took my hands away and placed it on her back. I traced the hollow line in the centre of her back down her waistline where the wrapper covered her fat buttocks. I shifted as I tried to hide my erection.

My thoughts were scattered. This is Albert’s mom, man! She’s like a mother to you! Oh shut up, she’s hot. Maybe I should just cup a feel.

My body was beginning to feel hot. I poured more ointment in my palms. Then I began to massage her waistline.

I brought my hands lower. I pushed down her wrapper with each motion. Soon I was kneading the place where her buttocks began its ascent.

All that while, she was making breathy sounds with her mouth. I slipped my right hand under her wrapper and slowly began to rub her hips, from where the top of her legs converged with her waist to just a bit below her navel.

She inhaled sharply and grabbed my right hand. She led it up and placed it on her breast. I fondled her breast. Then I took one of her nipples between my thumb and my index finger and began to squeeze.

She moaned and clutched the bed cover. Wale, this is it! I thought to myself. My scattered thoughts regrouped and became one strong voice: SHE WANTS YOUR DICK, MAN! SPREAD HER THIGHS AND FUCK HER BRAINS OUT!

She must have heard the voice in my head because she turned to face me. I could see the thirst in her eyes. Her breast jiggled as she unravelled her wrapper and laid bare the rest of her body.

I cupped one of her breasts in my hand. She grinned at me. I leaned in and took her left nipple in my mouth. She gaped and began to moan. I was fondling her right breast while my mouth worked her left nipple. She wrapped her hands round my head.

“Mommy?!” the voice echoed from the corridor. I stopped sucking and quickly rolled off the bed. Mrs Akinwale hurriedly covered herself with the bed cover.

“It’s Tomi. What does that girl want?” She sighed.

I was almost at the door when Ewatomi and her best friend let themselves in. They happily announced that they had just made a replica of Chef Michel Bras' chocolate coulant and they hoped mommy wasn’t too tired to have a taste.

… to be continued