Camille, My Boyfriend's Mother

Author's note:

This is the story of a young woman who is slowly seduced by her boyfriend's mother.

The heart of this story is the lesbian affair, although there are heterosexual sex scenes in this chapter, as well.

*****

Camille, My Boyfriend's Mother

*****

"Mom, I'm home," my boyfriend Josh called out.

Josh's parents were divorced, but he lived with his mother since his father had moved out of state. We had been dating for 6 months, but it was my first time meeting either of his parents.

I nervously followed behind him, peeking around his shoulder as we entered his mother's house. Based on his clothes and free spending ways, I always knew he came from money, nevertheless, I was still caught off guard as we pulled into his mother's driveway. The house was more like an estate with several acres of finely manicured and landscaped lawn surrounding the stately two-story chateau.

My upbringing and life felt so meager compared to the relative opulence reflected by Josh's home. My family provided all of life's necessities, but money was always tight, and nothing went to waste. Vacations always consisted of visiting family to save money on hotels, and eating out was always a rare treat. In contrast, the walls of Josh's entryway were lined with vacation photos from well-known and exotic locales around the world.

"So, this is how the other half lives," I muttered under my breath.

"Josh, you're home," a woman beamed as she came around the corner, her high heels clicking as she strode across the tiled floor.

I was instantly struck in awe by his mother's beauty. She cut a striking figure, appearing both statuesque and refined, and I immediately felt intimidated by her presence. She stood nearly 6 feet tall, only an inch shorter than Josh, although she was probably 5'9" without her 3 in high heels. She was dressed in a white blouse and grey skirt paired with charcoal stockings that would've been right at home in a large corporate office.

"And it looks like you've brought a friend," she said with a warm smile as she turned to face me after giving Josh a hug.

"Yes, this is my girlfriend Nicole. Nicole, this is my mom," Josh kindly introduced us.

"Ms. Reisen, it's a pleasure to meet you," I replied, although I instantly regretted it as I realized she may have reverted to her maiden name after the divorce, possibly no longer sharing a last name with Josh. I panicked, worried that I unintentionally offended her, so I gave a curtsy, as if that might somehow atone for my potential faux pas, but she seemed to sense my awkward clumsiness and sought to set me at ease.

"Please, call me Camille," she replied with a wink.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I followed Camille and Josh into the living room. I tried not to stare, but I was struck with a feeling that I didn't really belong there, almost as if I was undeserving. I felt severely underdressed in my jeans and tee shirt, and I couldn't help kicking myself, worried that I was leaving a bad first impression on my boyfriend's mother.

Josh had told me she was 45 years old, although his mother could have easily passed for a decade younger. Her long dark hair was still lustrous, shiny and meticulously brushed straight with nary a strand out of place as it reached down to her shoulder blades. Her olive skin glowed in a light tan that looked almost Mediterranean, and her face had sharp features, strong cheekbones and piercing eyes that projected an air of confidence and authority that I could only dream of.

Camille's thin body probably weighed about 125 pounds, and her toned calves told me that she worked out on the regular.

I suddenly couldn't help wondering what Josh even saw in me. By comparison, I was only 5'2", and I felt almost like a midget walking in a land of giants as I took a seat in their living room. I was about 115 pounds with a relatively good figure, but my top and bottom were a little curvier than his mother's. My dirty blonde hair felt unkempt compared to his mother's carefully brushed locks, and my thick thighs felt short and flabby compared to her long toned gams.

I rarely ever wore make up, and I suddenly felt self-conscious over my pale skin and the couple spots of acne on my face.

"I don't know if he told you, but this is the first time my little Joshie has actually brought a woman home. I know he's had other relationships, but you must be quite special for him to introduce you to me," Camille remarked.

"Oh, I'm flattered," I stammered, although the weight on my shoulders felt like it just increased tenfold. I couldn't imagine how I'd ever measure up to her surely lofty expectations.

"Nicole is a business major," Josh piped in as he gave me a wink. "I've told her the work you do in Planning and Logistics, and I think she's keenly interested."

"Really?" Camille acted surprised. "Hardly anyone has any appreciation for Planning and Logistics while they're still in school. Schools focus on building or testing things, but they rarely worry about how to run a lean and efficient operation."

"Yes, I'm fascinated by all the intricacies of Planning and Logistics," I added, grateful to Josh for the conversation starter. "I realize the complexity involved and relish the challenge on how to balance so many process inputs to achieve seamless results. I like bringing order to chaos. I find the challenge rewarding."

"Yes, the devil's often in the details," Camille explained. "Just one overlooked item can derail an otherwise well thought out plan and months of preparation. Perhaps later on you can even do an internship at my workplace."

I knew she was a Director at a Fortune 500 company, and my heart leapt with excitement at the doors she could open for my career.

"So, tell me about yourself," Camille continued. "I want to get know my son's girlfriend. Is your family nearby, or are you from out of state?"

"We live out on the east side of the city," I said,

"Did you grow up there?"

"Yes, we've lived in the same house all my life," I answered.

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"No, I'm an only child like Josh."

"And what kind of work do your parents do?" she asked.

I paused for a second, seemingly embarrassed by my family's blue-collar status compared to Josh's family affluence. "My father drives a delivery truck. My mother works in a local drugstore."

"I see," Camille responded, her words inoffensive, but her tone felt judgmental.

"This is a lovely house," I said, desperate to change the subject.

"Are you embarrassed by your family and upbringing?" Camilled asked through squinted eyes.

"No, I mean - I'm not, but I don't know," I stammered, clearly flummoxed. "If I can be honest, I'm not used to all this," I said as I waved my hand around the room.

"It's just money," Camille said dismissively.

"Well, I'm not used to money like what you have," I said through gritted teeth.

"I think you misunderstood me, but let me ask you another question. Are you the first in your family to go to college?"

"Yes," I humbly replied.

"And I bet you received several scholarships?" Camille pressed on.

"Yes, enough to pay for most of my college expenses. It's the only way I could afford to go to college at all."

"Well, now that speaks well of you, doesn't it?" she pointed out.

I was feeling defensive about my family's economic status, but her compliment surprised me.

"Yes, my parents instilled the value of hard work in me," I explained. "They always wanted me to have a better life than them."

"Very well then. And you're well on your way to achieving those goals, aren't you?" Camille concluded.

"I suppose. I mean, Josh and I are both freshmen. We still have so far to go to get to graduation."

"I don't doubt you'll be a success," she complimented me. "People underestimate how far a strong work ethic can take you in life. I see now what my son sees in you. I only wish some of that work ethos would rub off on him."

"Mom," Josh protested.

I couldn't help giggling at how childish my normally laid back boyfriend sounded.

"See, your girlfriend laughs because she knows what I'm talking about," Camille said with a raised eyebrow.

"I didn't mean to laugh - " I said apologetically.

"Nonsense, it's quite alright," Camille said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "His father spoiled him, let him get away with bloody murder at times. I've tried to instill values in him, but he's still content to do the least amount of work required to get by. He's smart as a whip, but he doesn't apply himself."

"I'm doing alright in my classes," Josh insisted.

"And just imagine how much better you could do if you really tried," Camille snapped back.

"Now if you maintain high standards, then you will achieve high results," she continued. "I'm a strong believer in discipline in life. Too many people lack discipline. They want instant gratification. They're perfectly content to pass the time doing worthless activities tasks, especially just playing on their phones or checking on social media."

"You make it sound as if you work so hard," Josh scoffed. "You've got maids who clean the house weekly. You've got a cook who prepares all your meals. Who do you think you're fooling?"

Camille smiled, and I couldn't help wondering if I wasn't stepping into a landmine, into a family battle from which I should excuse myself.

"And that is exactly my point," Camille insisted. "I earned that success. Work smarter, not harder, as the saying goes. I worked my way up. I earned every promotion, every dollar I made. And my professional success has enabled me to afford those things. You see, you have it backwards, my son. You're worried about enjoying your life right now. You only live once, right? You can't take it with you, as they say. So you work all your life until you're almost ready for the grave. Or you can go all in and work hard early on for early success so that you can live an easier life later on. I could retire if I wanted to, but I still enjoy my job. If you put in the work early on, then the sooner you can enjoy the fruits of your labor."

Josh was clearly pissed at how his mother dressed him down, and I tried to break the tension.

"I think your success is really remarkable," I remarked as I looked around at the fine furnishings and and sculptures that adorned their sitting room.

"Nicole, maybe we should go," Josh fumed.

"Nicole, I like you," Camille interjected, ignoring her son's complaints. "I think you're good for my son, although I'm sure the fact that I approve of you may be the kiss of death for your relationship," she said with a chuckle. "I know you have limited means, but if you'd like, maybe we could go out shopping next weekend. My treat. We could give you a little makeover if you're open to it. A girl's weekend, if you will."

"I'd like that," I said truthfully, eager to get on her good graces.

"Good, stop by at noon on Saturday, and we'll make an afternoon of it," Camile decided.

"What about me?" Josh asked.

"Well, it wouldn't be girl's weekend if you came along, now would it?" she pointed out.

"I suppose not," he conceded.

*****

One week later

"I can't thank you enough for doing this. I don't even know how to repay you," I said as I thanked her profusely for at least the eighth time that day.

"Nonsense. I have money to spare, and I can see that you're worth the investment. You're going places in life with the right direction," Camille insisted.

"Thank you for the vote in confidence. I don't know what you see in me, but I appreciate it," I remarked, although I still felt undeserving of her keen interest in me.

We were seated in Camille's Porsche SUV as she drove along the interstate to a local upscale mall. I remembered visiting the mall with my parents a few years ago, and we spent the whole time laughing at the impossibly expensive prices on all the items. It was crazy to think that now I was actually going there to actually shop.

"Is Josh still mad at me?" Camille asked.

"A little bit," I fibbed.

"You mean a lot. He won't even return my calls or texts."

"He may have tried to dissuade me from meeting up with you today."

"He's impetuous, but he'll get over it," she concluded.

"If you don't mind my asking, why are you doing all this for me when you know that it is annoying Josh?" I wondered.

"Because he doesn't know what's best for him, but I do," she explained. "You're good for him. I can already tell that much. So, what is good for you is good for him, and what is good for him is good for me in the long run. So I do have ulterior motives, even if they are rather circumspect."

"I see."

"I can tell you have self-doubt, and want to instill confidence in you. Now if you're an idiot with confidence, then you're just a buffoon. But if you're smart and confident, then the world is your oyster."

"That's easy for you to say. You seem so perfect," I lamented.

"I'm human," Camile said unconvincingly. " I have my flaws, but I'm good at hiding them. It's all about putting the best version of you on display."

Camille was dressed in a chic pink skirt and a sleeveless top.

"I've noticed how you're always dressed up, even at home," I commented.

"I'm always dressed to be the best version of myself," Camille explained. "I'm a woman, and I'm proud of it. And you should be proud of the fact that you're a beautiful woman, too."

"But I'm not as tall and fit as you," I lamented. "I can't pull off those outfits or have the same effect."

"There's your self-doubt creeping back in again, Nicole. Listen, when you feel sexy, then you feel confident, and when you feel confident, then you hold the world in the palm of your hand. Just trust me, and I can help give you all of that and more."

We arrived at the mall, and Camille pulled into valet parking and dropped off her keys with an attendant.

"Now, nothing against your jeans and tee shirts, but they don't command attention. How about we find something that will draw in everyone's eyes to you?" Camille proposed.

I was used to being a wallflower, and her suggestion filled me with trepidation, nevertheless, I followed her into a boutique.

"Camille, it's so lovely to see you again. How can we serve you today?" an older saleswoman asked.

"We're here shopping for my friend, Nicole. Can you find a few outfits for her to try on?" Camille asked, clearly familiar with the sales assistant.

"Why don't you wait in the dressing room," the saleswoman suggested. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be right there with some items for the Miss to try on."

I followed Camille to the back of the store to a small dressing room.

"You can go ahead and start undressing," Camille explained. "Jessica, the saleslady, should be here in a few minutes with some items for you to try."

"Oh, undress right here?" I said, suddenly alarmed.

"Are you shy? We have all the same lady bits," Camille laughed.

"I suppose. I'm just not - I was always nervous undressing even in gym class back in high school."

"Well, then it seems this is your first challenge in developing your self-confidence, and that's becoming secure in your own skin," Camille decided.

Camille was both my boyfriend's mom and a woman who could open a lot of doors for me professionally, and I quickly decided that I should at least try stepping out of my comfort zone. After all, I knew deep down that Camille was right. I knew I needed to expand my boundaries, and I certainly wanted to maintain a positive body outlook.

Nevertheless, I had lingering doubts. I couldn't help thinking how it was easy for Camille to be confident in her own physical body. She was taller and skinnier than me. I was far from fat, but I was always self-conscious of the few extra pounds I carried on my waist and ass.

I kicked off my shoes and then undid my jeans and slipped them off. Although my legs weren't as long as Camille's, they were thick but still fit. All the walking around campus from class to class served me well, and my thighs and calves had nice definition.

"There, that's not so bad now, is it?" Camille pointed out.

"I suppose not," I admitted as I breathed a sigh of relief.

"And now your top?"

I took a deep breath, and then I pulled off my tee shirt, leaving me standing half naked in front of my boyfriend's mother.

"Plain white bra and panties," Camille observed, her voice dripping in disappointment.

"They serve their purpose," I reacted defensively.

"Yes, but it's such a lost wasted opportunity," she maintained.

"What do you mean?"

Just then the door to the room opened, and the saleslady entered with a mobile clothes rack with a variety of outfits hanging on it.

"Excellent choices for the outfits," Camille complimented the saleslady, "but seeing Nicole's current underwear situation, I think she could also benefit from spicing up her lingerie and underwear options. Some selections similar to the ones you helped me with last week would be good."

"Thank you, ma'am," the saleslady replied before turning to face me. "You are a 34B I'd guess."

"Yes," I replied.

"Very well then. Give me a just a few minutes, and I'll be right back."

"Much appreciated," Camille acknowledged.

The saleslady disappeared again from the dressing room while I suddenly wondered if anything I did would ever be good enough for Camille.

I stood awkwardly half naked, wanting to cover up my body, but realizing how futile it would be. Besides, as Camille pointed out, we both had all the same lady bits, so what was there to be embarrassed about.

Camille walked around me as she eyed my body up and down, and I felt as if all my body flaws were amplified. That mole on my neck. The little birthmark on my right shoulder. I rarely ever wore anything sleeveless, and there was a noticeable tan line on my shoulders.

"I'm sorry, you don't have a lot to work with on me," I said, breaking the awkward silence.

"Quite the contrary. You're a very fetching woman, Nicole."

She was standing behind me, and I felt her breath on the back of my neck.

Then her fingers reached for the back of my bra, and the next thing I knew, she had pulled the hooks apart.

"The sales lady will be back any second with some new bras to try to on," she whispered as she slipped the bra straps off my shoulders and pulled it off me.

I felt the cool air in the dressing room against my nipples, and they instantly hardened. I cursed myself for getting turned on in front of my boyfriend's mother, and I knew that my pussy was moistening down below.

"Your tits are so perky, so perfect," Camille opined. "Mine have a little sag to them now, although the right bra can right the wrongs."

I was speechless, unsure how to respond to Camille complimenting my breasts. Her hands reached from behind and then passed over my chest, tracing over the outline of my breasts without actually touching me. I was breathing heavily, nervous and unsure what was even happening.

Just then, the sales lady returned carrying an assortment of underwear.

Camille pulled her hand back and acknowledged the saleslady. My own hands reached up to cover my breasts.

"Please, can you show us what you've brought for Nicole," Camille said cheerfully.

The sales lady placed the items carefully down onto a small nearby table. She seemed completely unaffected by nudity, and my tension eased.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of," Camille assured me. "Jessica is an experienced sales lady. She is used to giving her customers top notch service, to giving her customers exactly what they need."

"I'm sorry, you must think I'm a prude or something," I said in exasperation.

"What you lack is confidence in yourself," Camille corrected me. "They say that the sexiest thing in a woman is confidence, but it's a feedback loop. The more confident you feel, then the sexier you will appear to others. But the inverse is also true. The sexier you feel, then the more confident you will also be. And that all starts with your choice of underwear and lingerie."