Milf Tails: Home Cooking

Milf Tails: Home Cooking

By Laura Lovecraft

Artwork by Moira Nellingar

Copyright 2022 Laura Lovecraft

~~ All characters in this book are over 18. ~~

Chapter 1

Wow, something smells good!

The words, shouted over the sound of the screen door slamming, caused Gina to jump and spin away from the stove. Shit! she exclaimed as the long wooden spoon in her hand splattered red gravy all over floor.

You ever hear of knocking? She demanded as she reached over the sink and pulled several paper towels from the roll hanging next to it.

I figure if you didn’t want company you wouldn’t leave your door open. Her longtime neighbor and friend, Liz, explained while strolling into the kitchen as casually as if she lived there.

I wonder if the police would accept that answer, Gina rolled her eyes while kneeling and wiping red spots from the floor. Fortunately, none of the steaming liquid had landed on her bare legs or she’d have gotten burned. Sorry, officer I went around trying everyone’s doors, and when I found one unlocked figured they wanted company.

Someone’s in a mood. Liz laughed as she stepped around Gina and approached the stove. Oh my god, you are making a gravy!

Nothing gets past you, Gina muttered as she rose from floor and tossed the soiled paper towels into the trash. How’d you figure it out? The empty tomato paste cans on the counter? The jar of garlic? she snapped her fingers. Maybe the big metal pot with red stuff all over it?

Just followed my nose, Liz lifted the lid from the old, battered pot that had belonged to Gina’s grandmother, and inhaled deeply.

Hmm, she closed her eyes, a look of total bliss on her face. God that smells sooo good!

Jesus, you look like you’re ready to have an orgasm, Gina laughed. My cooking that good, or your sex life that bad?

Little from column A… Liz replaced the lid on the pot. Sorry I scared you.

It’s okay, I’ll still send you over a plate. Gina indicated the table. Have a seat, and if you want some Sangria get a glass first.

She sat down, and picking up her half full glass, drained it in several long swallows.

Wow, that’s in a bottle, not a box, I’m impressed! Liz exclaimed while opening the cupboard and grabbing a wine glass.

They were out of the box, and the four liter jug was on sale, Gina tapped her glass to the bottle before lifting it and pouring another glass.

From how red your face is I’m assuming that was full? Liz sat down and poured herself a glass. I’d say you’re into your second liter already.

I like to drink when I cook, Gina admitted. But it is hot in here and I’ve had my face over that damned pot all morning. She sighed dramatically, All red and sweaty for the wrong reasons.

Something tells me it hasn’t been that long since you’ve been red and sweaty for the right reason. Liz cocked an eyebrow at her. What’s your idea of a drought these days, a week?

Jealousy will get you nowhere, Gina gave her long dirty blonde hair a toss. And I’ll have you know it’s been more than two weeks.

That a record since your divorce?

You make it sound like a bad thing.

Because you divorced six years ago, Liz gave her a stern look. When are you going to stop trying to make up for lost time, and get serious?

Let’s see, Gina held up her hands and pretended to count on her fingers. Married for 14 years, only been single for 6, that means I need to be single 8 more years to be even.

You don’t have to remarry, but you could try to be attached.

I’ve been attached to a lot of guys, Gina giggled at her own joke, then looked at the admittedly rapidly dwindling bottle she bought on the way home from grocery shopping this morning.

When she began to giggle it was a sign she needed to slow down, but then again, what the hell? She had the next three days off, why not enjoy them?

A few were even around your age. Liz shot her a reproving look. But I’m willing to bet most of them were closer to Jimmy’s.

Knew I shouldn’t have told you I like them young, Gina snapped her fingers and pointed. Oh, wait, you used to ask me about my little adventures so your boring vanilla married self could live vicariously through the woman who freed herself from a crappy marriage and does whatever and whoever she wants.

Being a little harsh don’t you think? despite her words, Liz didn’t sound put off, after all, they’d had this conversation more times than Gina could count the last few years.

"Like I said before, Liz; you’re happy. You have a good marriage. John’s a great guy. Good to you, good father, good job and the two of you still have something special. My marriage was like that for a few years then went south.

"When that happened, I decided I wasn’t going to be that woman who accepted less than what I wanted. Who stayed for the kid, who stayed because I was afraid of being single, or afraid I couldn’t afford to live on my own.

I get all that, and I supported you through it and commend you doing what was best for you. I just think this far into being single you should stop acting like you’re auditioning for Milf’s gone wild and act your age.

I do act my age; I just don’t like guys who act my age. Gina countered. I want fun, not drama. I want hot sex from a kid with no baggage, not whining about their ex, paying child support, or boring talk about their job.

Gina chugged half of her latest glass, watching over the rim as Liz frowned and looked for a counter argument.

I mean, seriously, she put her glass down, and resisted the urge to refill it. Who am I hurting?

You’re screwing with those kids. Liz finally came up with.

Damn straight I am, Gina emitted another giggle. Screw their brains out.

No, you’re a woman twice their age taking advantage of them. They’re out of their league with you, and you use them up and spit them out.

Sometimes, other times I swallow, Gina punctuated her remark with an exaggeratedly lascivious wink.

Be serious, Liz now sounded annoyed.

Okay, Gina nodded. I know you probably haven’t watched porn in who knows how long, but know what the number two search on the sites are?

Enlighten me, Liz rolled her eyes as she sat back and sipped her drink.

Milf.

What’s number one?

Mom and other taboo stuff, Gina smirked. "Guess it’s all about your mom or someone else’s mom these days. Point is cougar cub stuff is smoking hot because young men want older woman and older women want them.

I’m not hurting these kids; I’m making a dream come true!

Little full of yourself, aren’t you?

I’ve been full of enough of them to figure I look okay. Gina cupped her large breasts through her low cut t-shirt. The girls are still great icebreakers.

The girls, Liz chuckled. Classy.

All I’m saying is I have fun, they have fun, and if you think I’m using them, well, in a way I am, but I make it clear I’m looking for a fuck not a friend.

Even classier.

Trust me, they get to use me and as hard and as often as they can. Gina said with a bluntness born of her zero fucks given attitude combined with getting tired of justifying herself.

I’m not there for candlelight, pillow talk and sweet lovemaking. I’m there to be their real life milf porn star and they’re my boy toy of the night, she shrugged. Or part of it, not like they spend the night.

Why is that? Liz gave her a smug smile as she awaited the answer she felt she’d trapped her into, but Gina was unaffected and answered honestly.

Because of Jimmy. I don’t bring them here even on nights he works just in case one of them decides he can get a repeat performance by coming around. If they don’t have a place we can go back to, I spring for a motel and I leave a little bit after I send them packing.

That’s nice, and you don’t think that bothers them?

"There are worse things. Liz, these boys get a fantasy come to life. They get the wildest ride of their lives, and if you think I’m being conceited, maybe