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Mami's Boy

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"Hey, sweet boy." Olivia set her empty wine glass aside. "How was your day?"

Rafael froze in mid-motion—he knew what that signal meant—then slowly finished hanging up his coat. He padded from the foyer into the living room, chin lowered. His eyes didn't quite meet hers.

"Okay, I guess."

His voice was different: smaller, softer. Not a child's voice—how could it be, coming from a grown man, let alone a grown man in his forties? But it had a childish cast. Olivia raised her eyebrows, leaning back on the couch.

"You guess?"

He sat down beside her with a shrug. "Ms. Barth didn't like my speech. Rita made fun of me afterward."

As a rendition of his workday, arraignment and all, it amused Olivia. Neither of them had really expected the judge to order remand. "Sweetheart, I'm sure your speech was perfect. After all that practicing you did?" She patted his leg, letting her hand linger. "I wish I could've been there to see you give it, but I had a case."

"Did you catch the bad guy?"

"Still working on that," she said. "I'm sorry you had a tough day. Maybe we should have some special playtime." Her stomach gave a twist as she said the words, but she repressed it and pressed on. She squeezed his thigh, sliding her hand down and up its length. "Just you and me. Would that make you feel better?"

Rafael tucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He peeked at her sideways. "Can we?"

"If you want to, sure. How about you put on some comfy clothes, and then we'll play?"

He launched to his feet, then vanished into the bedroom so fast she could almost see the puff of smoke trailing after. Under other circumstances she might've laughed, but her heart was beating in unsettled time, her stomach still fluttering. She wasn't sure about this—far from it, even though she'd agreed to try.

It had started innocuously enough. Mami in Spanish was unremarkable, as ordinary a pet name as baby in her mother tongue. But Olivia was a trained detective. Even if she hadn't been, the clues became impossible to miss: the way he'd whisper it to her when they were in bed, low and plaintive. The way his eyes glazed when he played with her tits—the reverence with which he went about it, the fervor more blatant than any previous partner of hers had ever shown.

The first time she'd called him sweet boy, in a reckless fit, he'd cum all over her belly, before he could even get inside her.

Maybe she was drunk on that, on knowing she could make him instantly lose it, on the helpless need only she could sate. Drunk enough to overcome inhibitions, reservations, the stricken voice in her head that kept repeating this was wrong, wrong, too wrong even to play at or pretend. She and he put people away for the real-life version—how could a false one be anything but obscene?

That voice hadn't abated. But his yearning fed hers, and she couldn't deny what she felt—the lightheaded pleasure, the comfort, the bone-deep satisfaction when she was curled in bed, cradling his head in her arms. She'd reminded herself that fantasy was fantasy, that with any other flavor—sexy pirate and captive, say—it wouldn't even have crossed her mind to wonder if he really wanted her to plunder on the high seas, let alone really make him walk the plank. After a time she'd asked, haltingly, if there was more he wanted. Even then he'd hedged at first, reluctant to press.

Now here they were. Unzipping her hoodie, she drew a fortifying breath. When Rafael reappeared, now in boxer shorts and t-shirt, she mustered a smile. The bulge in his shorts was plainly enthusiastic, but his expression was so uncertain—worried, even—that the urge to reassure him eclipsed her doubts, at least for the time being. When he sat down on the sofa, she reached to draw him into a hug.

He huddled against her, face tucked to her neck. The set of his shoulders eased.

"Mami," he said, in his small voice. "You really wanna play?"

That was the question, wasn't it. Olivia searched herself once more as she stroked his hair. "If we change our minds, we can always quit, right?"


"Okay. First, let's go over the rules." At her nudge he sat up to face her, hands on his knees. His boxer shorts were pastel plaid, his shirt robin's-egg blue—the kind of combo you'd find in the boys' clothing aisle at Target. Or in Rafael Barba's pajama drawer on any given day. He'd mussed his hair a little while changing shirts, and done nothing to fix it. Strategic, no doubt. He knew what she liked. He looked adorably attentive, but that was nothing new. "What's rule number one?"

"Ask before touching," he said promptly.

"That's right. So if you wanted to touch Mami here—" Reaching for his right hand, Olivia drew it to her breast, letting him stroke it through her cotton tank. The pink fabric was thin, thin enough that her areolae showed through clearly when wasn't wearing a bra. Rafael's eyes went comically wide. "You'd ask, right?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "Can I—Mami, can I keep touching?"

"Sure you can, sweet boy. Mami likes it.

His hand tentatively kneaded—broad and warm, long-fingered, impossible to mistake for a child's. Olivia's nipples hardened, beginning to perk.

"Mm," she sighed, "feels nice. I think it'll feel even better if I take this off." Rafael withdrew his hand quickly, giving her space to shed the hoodie and pull the tank top over her head. When she shook back her hair and turned to him, he was staring, lips parted, at her bared breasts, like he'd never seen a pair of tits in his life.

Olivia flattened her lips on a smile. Maybe there was fun to be had here, after all. She should've known he wouldn't miss a chance to ham up a performance, however filthy the occasion. She gave a showy little stretch as he watched.

"I don't wanna stop," said Rafael, still staring raptly at her tits.

"You wanna touch Mami some more?"

He looked as if he might faint, but he nodded. He sucked in a breath and held it as she caught both of his hands, bringing one to each breast. With soft sounds she encouraged him to cup them, to spread his fingers and palm them, to thumb her nipples into dusky peaks. At length Rafael started to breathe again, if unsteadily, entranced by the soft warmth and weight in his hands.

His touches sent flickers of pleasure through her, kindling an ache that tightened between her legs. She shifted on the sofa cushion, as if she couldn't help but squirm, and let her legs tilt further apart.

Rafael's gaze dropped to the join of her thighs. His hands on her breasts went still.

"Mami." His voice was hoarse. "Mami, can I touch you down there?"

"Down there?" echoed Olivia. "Down where? Behind my knees? Between my toes?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not there."

"Where, then? If you don't ask properly, how will I know?" She gave him an encouraging smile. "You know what it's called."

"Um...tu cosita."

"English, sweet boy."

His mouth twisted. Then he blurted, "Your pussy, Mami. Can I touch you there?"

"Since you asked so nicely, yes you can." Pulling the drawstring of her sweatpants, she raised up from her seat enough to pull them down. She kicked them off and took Rafael's hand, bringing it to the soft thatch of hair where her thighs met. Rafael stared, then bit his lip, then smiled one of his sweet crooked smiles.

"It's like a nest," he said.

"A nest for your little bird?" said Olivia, teasing. "Not so little, is it?" He flushed to his ears. "You wanna make Mami feel good? Want me to show you?"

He nodded fervently. Maneuvering his hand, Olivia showed him how to rub her, how to slip a finger in, as if he weren't intimately aware. His breathing quickened. He spoke in a hush.

"Mami, you're wet."

Barely, but she was on her way—more than she'd expected to be. If nothing else, he was still himself, and his excitement was catching. "Mm, you're making me wet, sweet boy. You know why Mami gets wet like that?"

He swallowed. "So I can put mi pájaro in?"

"Mm-hmm. When it gets nice and hard."

His voice went vanishingly small. "It's hard now."

Sure enough, the bulge in his shorts looked increasingly dire. Extending a hand, Olivia asked, "Is it okay if I check?"

He sucked in a breath, then nodded. Olivia grasped his erection and palmed it, feeling its heat through the cloth of his shorts.

"Mm, you're right. Nice and hard." Angling downward, she cupped his sack gently, then ran her hand up the length of his shaft. Rafael's belly quivered. He drew another sharp breath. "What do you do if it gets like this when Mami's not here? It's okay, you can tell me."

"I, I touch it."

"Touch it how? You rub it? Rub it like this?"

She demonstrated. He gave a tremulous nod.

"You think about Mami when you do it?"


"And it feels good?"


The interrogation seemed to give him a shameful thrill—his cheeks were flaming—but if he expected a rebuke for misbehavior, Catholic schoolboy style, he had another thing coming. "That's okay, sweet boy," she said. "It's okay to feel good." Giving a promising squeeze, she withdrew her hand. "Mami's glad you're all ready. If you wanna put it in, we can do that in a little bit. Mami wants to get all wet and ready for you first. Can you be good and help me with that?"

Another eager nod. If she'd expected brattiness, a boyish version of the attitude he liked to cop, he offered none. Maybe he sensed it wouldn't delight her now. Or maybe he just wanted to be her good boy, really and truly, for the space of an hour or two. His eyes on her were earnest and wide.

"What should I do?" he asked.

Olivia inched forward, until her ass perched on the edge of the couch. Spreading her legs, she laid a hand on his shoulders to shepherd Rafael, easing him to the floor. When he knelt on the carpet between them, face level with her chest, she helped him strip off his t-shirt. She ran her hands over his thick shoulders, then draped her arms lazily around his neck.

"How about you—" she ruffled his hair "—take care of Mami's titties some more. Maybe use your mouth this time? Mami likes that."

Without missing a beat he leaned to bury his face, pressing his soft cheeks between her breasts. Baby cheeks, thought Olivia, feeling punch-drunk in spite of herself, as he kissed his way to one nipple. His breath ghosted over it, just for a second, before he touched it with his warm, wet mouth.

He licked hungrily at first, the way he might lick a scoop of favorite ice cream, circling her areola with the flat of his tongue. Then he covered her nipple wholly and sucked. His cheeks flexed gently. His eyes fell shut with focused, wholehearted bliss, as if nothing in the world mattered outside his mouth and her tit.

Olivia cradled his head, barely breathing. Her nipples had always been sensitive, more or less, but Rafael had cultivated that with devoted care. She throbbed under the heat of his mouth, the sweet suction. She closed her thighs to pin him between them, to make sure he knew she wanted him right where he was.

"Mm, baby. That's it." She stroked his hair over and over, pushing it away from his brow. She let her head tip back. "Right there. Feels so good."

He murmured in answer. He brought his palm to her other breast to caress it, skirting the nipple with his thumb. When Olivia took hold of his head more firmly, he let himself be directed, replacing the hand with his mouth.

She wasn't sure how long they spent like that, with Rafael drawing her sighs. He suckled one side, then the other, then returned to the first as if he couldn't get enough, or was afraid of neglecting either. Now and then he paused to press small kisses to her skin, or teethe a nipple oh-so-lightly before taking it into his mouth again.

Olivia felt lost in a haze. The only flutters in her belly now were the good kind, the ones that made her feel weightless and high. She trailed a hand down to rub her pussy, without urgency, fingers flat on her labia and clit. She let out a quiet moan. The sound only made Rafael suckle more eagerly. Dreamy lassitude suffused her, shot through with warm sensation and soft, wet sounds. For the first time since they'd started she began to feel fully at ease, assured that what they were doing couldn't be so wrong, not when it felt as right as this. Even the lines in Rafael's brow had smoothed. She stroked their traces, murmuring whatever nonsense came into her head.

"Wish I could feed you like this," she told him. "Wouldn't that be nice? You could drink up all Mami's milk."

He whimpered without letting go. His throat worked on a swallow. His hand clutched reflexively at her side. When at last he pulled off, panting, he looked up at her with eyes darkened, pupils blown wide.

"I wish I could."

"You'd drink it all up, wouldn't you?" Unable to resist, she mussed his hair again. "My hungry boy."

"Uh-huh." He nuzzled back to her cleavage, doing his level best to crawl in.

Olivia caught and eased his head back. "Easy, there. Mami's ready for more now." She was as wet as she was likely to get, and impatient to have him in her. Bringing his hand down, she let him feel how slick she was, how ready to be fucked. She whispered at the curl of his ear. "Don't you wanna be inside? Fill Mami up with that big, hard cock?"

Lurching backward, Rafael snatched his fingers away. Something like panic flared in his face as he bent double, hand clapped to the bulge in his shorts. He turned away from her, biting his lip.

"Uh-oh," Olivia said, with mock concern. Talking did it for him, she knew—not least when she was the one doing it. Running her mouth during sex had never been her style, but he'd told her in no uncertain terms that he liked to hear it, and she'd learned not to underestimate its effects. Or thought she had. "Maybe Mami shouldn't have teased you like that."

Rafael squeezed his eyes shut. "I dunno if—I dunno if I can—"

"Yes you can, sweet boy. I know you can. Just a little longer, okay? Hold on for Mami. Deep breaths. Breathe."

After a minute he regained control enough to nod. She helped him out of his boxers, careful not to let her hands brush his straining cock, then scooted down to join him on the floor, since the couch was too short for one of them stretch out, let alone two. She pushed back the coffee table and swiped a pillow for her head. When she settled back onto it and reached for Rafael, he crawled over her, knees straddling her thighs. He hesitated, blinking hard.

She coaxed him down. "Here, baby. You won't squash me, don't worry."

Rafael lowered himself gingerly, until his chest and belly met hers. She spread her legs to cradle him between them. The shaft of his cock nestled onto her pussy, sleek and hard; she bit back a groan at its heat. Rafael breathed a faint, fraught sound. He shifted against her, seemingly without intent, shaft sliding along her labia and clit. Olivia sank back onto the pillow. She stroked his head.

"There's my sweet boy," she whispered. "That's it. Let's get you inside Mami, okay? You wanna be inside?"

His whole body quivered. "Please. Please?"

"Okay, shh." She nudged him to lift up a little, enough for her to slide a hand between them. Grasping his shaft, she guided the head of his cock, smearing its wet tip against the lips of her pussy, just to make sure he got the idea. She took hold of either side of his hips.

"There now. There we go." His face hovered over hers, slack-jawed. She planted a kiss on his chin. "Just push inside, baby. You won't hurt me. Come on."

With tortured slowness he obeyed her, rolling his hips forward and down. She felt every inch as his cock spread her, pressing in. Her inner walls throbbed around him. Maybe it was his feigned inexperience, but she felt a charge like she'd felt their first time, the first time she'd taken his cock. He looked as overcome now as he had then. His mouth hung open on a voiceless groan.

When he was sheathed she clutched his ass to keep him snugly inside her. "That's it. That's my good boy." Wiggling her hips, she let herself revel a little. "Mm, nice and big."

"Mami," he gasped. "Mami, it's so good."

"I know, sweet boy. Feels good for Mami, too. Having you inside." Relaxing her hold, she smoothed her hands down his back. Tension strained Rafael's muscles as he fought to keep still. "You wanna move for me, baby? Can you do that?"

"Is, is that okay?"

"Mm, yeah, Mami wants to feel you, sweet boy. Push in and out. You know what it's called when you do that?"

He ducked his face to the side of her head, hiding it in the spill of her hair. "It's not a nice word."

Oivia breathed on his flushed ear. "Oh, you mean 'fucking'?"


Feeling wicked, she petted him to console. "It's okay. It's only bad to say it in front of other people. You can say it here with me. If I ask you to be a good boy and fuck your Mami, you'll do that for me, right?"

He lifted his head to stare dazedly. "Yeah."

"Can you do it for me now? Come on." She splayed her hands into his hair and mussed it. "Fuck me, sweet boy."

A guttural noise caught in Rafael's throat. He started to rock, without force at first, then with more and more eagerness, less and less restraint.

"That's it," Olivia breathed. "Give it to me, baby. Give it to Mami. Oh, yeah."

He abandoned some of the pretense then, or at any rate his cock did, to fuck her like a man who knew what he was doing: quick rhythmic thrusting, then a slow, grinding roll that pressed on her clit. Every thrust rocked his chest into hers, teasing her nipples. Olivia dug her nails into the meat of his shoulder, rubbing afterward to smooth away the marks.

"So good, baby," she said, with patently false wonder. "Have you done this before?"

Rafael shook his head. "Never, Mami."

"Never? Never ever?"

"Never ever." His voice was skirting dangerously close to his usual one. His eyes slitted with pleasure at he looked down. "Only Mami's pussy for me."

"Wow. You must be a natural." Feeling wicked again, Olivia said, "Can you do it a little harder? Mami needs to feel it, sweet boy."

She wouldn't have thought it possible, but inside her his cock throbbed and swelled. He drew out partway and straightened his arms, bracing, then heaved a harsh breath and thrust back in.

Olivia groaned. She arched with it—how perfect, how deeply he filled her. Her hands fell flat to the carpet. Her fingers clawed into its strands.

"So good," she managed. "Just like that."

He responded like a horse to the whip, hips slapping hers urgently. Wild-eyed, he stared down at her, watching her face and her bobbing tits. "Mami," he grunted, "Mami," over and over as he fucked in.

Olivia gave herself up to it. She locked her legs and held on for the ride. If her ass was in for a carpet burn, so be it. His cock pounded the sweet spot inside her, spiking heat through her in delicious deep bursts. When she wasn't too lost to speak, she gasped praise at him: baby, baby, so good.

He whimpered back Mami, as if no other words were left. Without warning he jerked to a stop. He went rigid, trembling, from his arms all the way down to his cock. His lips clamped on the pink tip of his tongue. His eyes squeezed desperately shut.

"Mami, I can't—" His face twisted. His voice broke. "I can't hold it."

Olivia grasped his quivering ass. "You need to cum? It's okay. Cum for Mami, baby. Cum inside."

With a noise like a sob he fucked in again. His hips gave a convulsive buck. When Olivia tightened around him, giving him that last little push, he shuddered and groaned and went still.

She could feel his cock pulsing inside. He crumpled onto her, gasping. Sweat shone on his forehead, sticking damp strands of graying hair to his skin. Olivia brushed them back lovingly. When his cock slipped out of her, she shifted with regret, aching at the loss as she always did. Trickles of cum, warm but cooling, seeped out of her in its wake. She turned to kiss Rafael's brow, only to blink at the look on his face.

He looked wrecked, less from the force of orgasm than from shame. "I'm sorry, Mami," he said.

If she thought about ribbing him, it was only for a second. For Rafael of any stripe, cumming before she did was a cardinal sin. "Sweet boy, it's okay," she said, stroking, from the nape of his neck to the small of his back. "That was for you. Don't worry, we're not done yet. You made a big mess inside Mami." He cringed. "No, shh, it's okay! It's a good mess. You're not in trouble. All it means is, we have to clean up. Think you can help me with that?"

A glint formed in his eyes, but he said only, "What do I do?"

"Here, scoot down." When he was settled between her legs, she tapped his cheek playfully. "Use your mouth, sweet boy. Can you do that for Mami? Lick it all up?"

Experience told her he wouldn't fuss—far from it. The gleam in his eyes darkened. He hunkered face-first between her thighs, going straight for her dripping slit. With slow strokes of his tongue he lapped up their mingled mess, his cum and her juices, as if he relished every lick. A hot giddiness seized Olivia. She drew up her knees and planted her feet. The leverage let her rock upward, hips rippling, to push her spread pussy onto his mouth.

"Mm, that's it," she breathed. "You like that, baby? Tastes good?"

His gaze met hers. A minute passed before he lifted his sopping lips.

"It's yummy," he pronounced, and went back to work.

Olivia buried a hand in his hair. She'd been close before—it wouldn't take long, not at this rate. She rocked faster and harder, making tight circles with her hips. "A little higher now," she said, breathless. "Right on Mami's clit." He hurried to obey, and her nerves sang with it. "Oh yeah. Right there. Now your fingers, baby—Mami needs it—"

He squeezed her thigh with one hand, and with the other slid two fingers in. They crooked inside her, rubbing the place that made her see stars. Olivia swore.

"There, oh God—now fuck Mami—fuck Mami—"

He moaned like her need was his own. Arm jerking, he finger-fucked her at a frantic pace. His fingers lacked the girth of his cock, but they were long and unerring, something to clench on as his mouth sealed over her clit.

Olivia cried out as he sucked it. Her hand fisted in his hair. She bucked into his mouth and fingers, gasping baby, baby don't stop—and he didn't. He gave what she needed, what she needed and more, and her inner ache surged into blinding sweet heat.

It spun her senseless. In the aftermath she could only lie there, tingling from her spine to her toes. Her head lolled on the pillow in disbelief. Excitement was catching, she thought dimly, but after that she'd be a coward not to own her part in it. And more self-scrutiny could wait until her brain wasn't blank.

As she floated, Rafael licked her slit tenderly, lapping up the last of the drops. He was nothing if not thorough, chasing stray trails of wet down her inner thighs, over her taint. When her breathing slowed, he glanced up from between her splayed legs.

"Mami," he said blandly, "I think it's all gone now." He licked his lips. "Did I do it right?"

Olivia let out a whoosh of a laugh. "You were perfect, sweet boy. You're the best there is."

When she beckoned him, he clambered up to curl at her side, chin on her shoulder, leg hooked over hers. His hand snuggled up to her breast, faintly proprietary now, as if in no doubt of his welcome. His eyelids drooped with satisfaction. Olivia wrapped him in her arms and kissed his head.

She was too old to pass out on the floor and fail to regret it, and so was he, whatever he might pretend. But her limbs felt half-melted, unwilling to move. If she reached with one arm, she could just snag the knit blanket draped on the sofa. She dragged it down over them, tucking it around Rafael as he settled in.

"Mami," he murmured, "I love you so much."

She knew that was no pretense. Neither was her urge to cuddle him, to settle his soft cheek against her breast. Maybe she was nursing her own muted yearnings, like the phantom ache that rose now and then at the memory of Baby Boy Doe, happy with some other foster mom. Maybe it really couldn't hurt to play Mami, just for a little while. Whatever it might look like from the outside, it was between her and Rafael, and no one else. No one was being hurt. The outside didn't need to know.

She kissed his brow again, toying with his hair. "I love you too, sweet boy. More than anything." She smiled at the pleased noise he made. "How about we rest for a while, and have something to eat? Then we can play some more if you want."

A slow grin tugged the side of Rafael's mouth, with just a suggestion of cheek. "Really? Can I put it in again?" Before she could tease and ask where, he said, "In your pussy?" His cock twitched with brazen ambition against her thigh. "It's my new favorite place."

"I dunno, can you?" she replied, and he pulled a face.

"May I? May I please?"

"If you keep being Mami's good boy," Olivia allowed. "Maybe next time you can last longer, too. What do you think?"

His grin folded to a wince as he ducked into her shoulder, while she laughed silently and patted his head.