I Don’t Fuck Coworkers. But Their Mom’s Are Another Story

All characters are adults.

It’s a hard and fast rule. Don’t shit where you eat. Don’t fuck where you work. For one fall in my early twenties, I worked at a sports bar in town. Huge place, the kind that feels louder than it should, packed with televisions, regulars, and a rotating cast of colorful characters. One of them was Maya.

Maya is 5’1” and absolutely impossible to miss, all confidence and presence compressed into a compact frame. Her mocha toned skin glows against her short black hair, and her golden eyes are stunning, the kind that lock on and don’t let go once they find you. She has a big, generous body, full breasts, a pronounced, attention grabbing ass, giving her a bold, head turning silhouette. She’s the kind of 10 out of 10 beauty that doesn’t need to try because the effortlessness is part of the appeal. Loud in the best way, quick with jokes and trash talk, she radiates strong one of the boys energy while still flirting shamelessly, even when it’s clearly a little one sided, coming from her and not from me. The thing most people don’t notice, but I always do, is how she leans in just a fraction closer when she’s teasing, as if the flirtation is less about conquest and more about savoring the moment and the connection.

I don’t think Maya had ever met someone who didn’t flirt back. I’m fine with playful banter, but I’m also a massive slut, which means I have to be careful. With coworkers, I put it away. Don’t fuck your coworkers.

Unfortunately, refusing to engage didn’t make her lose interest. If anything, it sharpened it. She found reasons to pass close behind me, took routes that made no sense just to brush by, asked what I was doing after work, all of it escalating in small, persistent ways. In hindsight, I probably could have diffused it by playing along just enough to bore her. She did eventually stop, but not because of anything I said or did. It happened the day we had a special guest at the bar.

Maya’s mother.

Elena carries herself with the same striking physicality as her daughter, but softened by time and tempered by confidence that no longer needs to announce itself. The resemblance is immediate and unmistakable. The same lush, full figure, the same generous curves, the same powerful hips and ass that clearly didn’t skip a generation. Her mocha toned skin holds a deeper warmth now, her short dark hair worn simply, practically, and her golden brown eyes are quieter than Maya’s but no less arresting, observant, amused, and knowing. Where Maya fills a room with sound and motion, Elena fills it with steadiness, warmth, and an almost magnetic calm that makes people lean in without realizing why.

I walked into my shift to find Elena already seated at the bar. I’d love to say she was dressed provocatively, but it was just a local team hoodie and a pair of well worn jeans. It didn’t matter. She was still undeniably hot. Maybe it’s just MILF energy, but it’s always done something to me. I have a long, documented history with that.

Maya wasted no time introducing us once I was behind the bar. We chatted easily until the back of house manager called her away. The moment Maya disappeared, Elena’s tone shifted, subtle but unmistakable.

“My daughter is pretty hot, isn’t she?” she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I used to look just like her at that age. I was a real troublemaker.”

“Yeah, she’s something,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “But I don’t really look at my coworkers that way. That said, if you looked half as good back then as you do now, I’m sure you caused more than a little trouble.”

This time, I didn’t shut it down. I let it breathe.

Elena laughed, clearly pleased. “That’s probably smart. Maya’s never been good at hearing no. You almost certainly just made it more fun for her. She gets that from her father. Still, I respect someone who doesn’t give in immediately. It’s important to not always get what you want.”

We spent the next hour talking, joking, flirting with an ease that felt natural and unforced. Where Maya’s flirtation felt like a challenge, Elena’s felt like a shared secret. She drank vodka lemonades, and I made them strong, not subtly so, but intentionally. She noticed. She smiled every time I slid one her way.

When Maya returned, the atmosphere changed instantly. It was like watching a switch flip. Elena softened again, warm and maternal, her flirtation disappearing entirely in her daughter’s presence.

Eventually, Elena paid her tab and stood to leave. Before she did, she thanked me for the conversation and for being such a good coworker to her daughter. She paid in cash and left a large tip. Folded neatly into the bills was a business card. I don’t remember seeing her write on it. On the front was standard business information. On the back, her handwriting curved playfully around her personal cell number.

I slipped it into my pocket before Maya could see.

I I spent the rest of my shift trying to decide what that card meant. Elena was engaging, warm, effortless to talk to, and it took a truly heroic amount of self control not to stare at her. She was sexy in a way that felt practiced but unpretentious, confident without being loud, the kind of woman who knew exactly what she was doing with her presence. The rest of the night blurred together. I missed tickets, failed to notice people waving for my attention, nodded at conversations I wasn’t really hearing. I’m pretty sure all the blood in my body abandoned my brain entirely and relocated south.

By the time my shift ended at nine, I couldn’t take it anymore. The entire walk to my car I replayed the interaction, weighing my options, arguing with myself. Somewhere between the back door and the parking lot, my body made a decision without consulting my brain. I looked down to see that I had already hit send. The phone was at my ear. It was ringing.

Ring.

Ring.

What am I doing?

I moved to hang up. I almost did. Then the call connected.

“Hello,” she said, her voice light and sing song, effortlessly charming.

“Hi,” I managed, suddenly stripped of my usual confidence.

“Oh, I recognize that voice,” she said, her tone flipping like a switch. “How was your shift, honey?”

“Better now that it’s over,” I replied, settling into it. “I had a really good tip out after a particularly generous customer early on. Thought I might treat myself to something nice.”

“Maybe a nice dinner,” she said. “You work so hard. Let me know if you want company. There isn’t much for an old single woman to do tonight.”

Her voice was even more flirtatious than it had been at the bar. It sounded like her evening hadn’t ended when she left.

I’ve been here before. Familiar territory. If I took her up on it immediately, I’d ruin it. Better to stretch it out. Chase longer. Tease deeper. It makes everything better.

“I’m afraid tonight will be a solo affair,” I said, letting the pause do some work. “But I do love steak and red wine.”

“The Butcher’s Trap has an excellent T-bone,” she replied smoothly. “A lot to handle, though. Aged to perfection.”

“I love to eat,” I said. “And everything’s better aged. Wine. Meat. Women.” I smiled to myself. “Thanks for the recommendation. Have a lovely evening, Elena. I hope you come back to the bar soon.”

“Enjoy your meal, baby,” she said. “You’ll be seeing more of me. I’m sure of it.”

The line clicked dead.

Damn.

She got me. In the game of the tease, she won that round. I wanted to call her back immediately and tell her exactly what I was thinking, exactly what I wanted to do. How I wanted my tongue to explore every inch of her until I memorized the taste.

I didn’t get steak and wine.

I got fast food and painfully aware of my own restraint.

I had to take care of myself that night. I had to wonder what she looked like under the mom jeans and hoodie. I had to wonder what she’d feel like. What she’d taste like. How she’d sound when she moaned. If hearing her low warm voice whisper my name would cause me to seize and explode inside her.

My consciousness faded. I don’t remember if I dreamed of her that night. But I can say I still dream of the night we did spend together.

Over the following weeks on Thursdays Elena came in, no longer dressed in her jeans and hoodie. But more and more revealing each time. She was a joy to have around and everyone enjoyed her. Maya would tell me how much her mother loved visiting and that she spoke of me often. I think something about her mother knowing my name made me less interesting to flirt with. Fine by me. Elena tipped well. And each time she came in we teased and toyed and played each time exchanging teases. Never saying it out loud. Whoever does, loses.

I tried not to show it. But I was breaking. I was so close to getting on my knees and eating her out on top of the bar.

One day, she came into the bar right near the end of my shift “before going to a party” in a stunning gorgeous red cocktail dress. When I say she stuck out, it’s an understatement. If we had a sky light you would be able to see her from space. But I’m thankful we didn’t because you would have been able to use part of me for a sundial. I pushed tight against the bar in an uncomfortable effort to hide my arousal.

As Elena sat in her usual I went to pour her the usual, but she stopped me. Stating he was only there until 8 before leaving for her engagement. She said it was a nice affair. T-Bone and Red wine.

I could hide the erection behind the bar, but unfortunately the bar wasn’t tall enough to cover the grin creeping across my face.

We were having two conversations at once. But by the time we left that bar both those conversations would be “I’m going to fuck your brains out”

I clocked out early and walked Elena back to her red convertible. We are done teasing. Once we got to the parking garage and found her car I couldn’t take it.

My hand felt her face, soft, deep smile lines from a life of warmth and joy. My hand resting on the side of her face as I pulled her in close. Not more imaging what her lips would feel like. They were exactly as soft as I’d pictured. I lifted her on to the trunk of the candy apple red car, as if she matched her dress to the car. My lips moved from her to her neck. Her soft moans just load enough to echo off the concrete walls of the parking garage.

I needed to taste her, I fell to my knees, the uncomfortable concrete in my joints was more than worth it, because as my hands made my way up her thighs I discovered Elena wasn’t wearing panties.

Normally I like to slowly work my way towards a woman’s pussy. Kissing down the thighs, slowly inching closer till I could make her moan just by breathing on her clit.

But she won.

I needed to know.

I needed to know now.

What was once low soft moans echoing off grey concrete was replaced by lustful unrestrained musical moans. Bouncing off walls and all through the structure. As I flattened my tongue to cover the widest surface area of her wet cunt we both learned things.

I learned that she tasted amazing. Better than I could have thought possible.

She learned, I eat it for my pleasure as much as hers.

She grabbed a fist full of my hair and pulled me closer, deeper. She began grinding against my flat tongue. Using the suspension of the sports car to her advantage. Using the motion of fucking my face in time with the car.

She knew what she wanted. She planted her feet on the bumper of the car and fucked my face. It was perfect. Her pace finding a steady rhythm, moving in one fluid motion, up and down from her clit to the very bottom of her soaked pussy. Her moans reaching their zenith as her legs began to shake and her grip on my hair became painful. All of it worth it. Just to make this beautiful woman cum all over my face.

Her deep breathes reaching for the air that she had just shook out of her body were a reminder that we were two separate people. From the moment my tongue snapped to her cunt to the moment my hair was released it felt like we were one entity. Both feeling the rhythm and pleasure.

And that was just the start of the evening.

This got away from me a bit, and there is so much more. Let me know if you’d like to read more about Elena.