My College Roommate’s Mom

My first college roommate was Mike. Like me, he was a good football player in high school who landed at State U. on a full ride. Sadly for him, he suffered a compound fracture just above his ankle in our sophomore year. He was not able to rehab from the injury and could no longer play ball. With continued pain, he got depressed and then dropped out of school at Spring break of that year. After he left school, we sometimes talked by phone and he did visit campus, maybe twice, to get laid, but we were no longer what could be considered buddies of any kind.

Before then we had developed a bond as partners in drudgery. College football on the level of playing for a ranked team, with some nationally televised games had a lot of pressure, was very tough and demanding, and not as much fun as I had anticipated. There was a free education involved, however, and being on the team made it a lot easier to keep my dick soaking wet for most of my 4 years.

Mike had come from a town only about 80 miles from campus. His mom came to every home game and usually had one or both of his older brothers with her. My home was 350 miles away, so my parents hardly ever attended our home games, so Mike’s mom usually included me in their plans, such as going for a real dinner, or or even just for some pizza. In that way I got to know his mom as “Miss Betty”. She was always friendly, bordering on flirtacious, and sexier than the typical mom: probably because she was divorced and active on the dating scene. She always quizzed me on Mike’s study habits and partying schedule. Despite her good looks and sexy manner, I never thought of Miss Betty as anything but my roommie’s mom. Nothing close to inappropriate ever transpired between us while Mike was at school.

About a year after Mike left school, in the spring of my Junior year, a friend named Bob talked me into driving home with him for the weekend. Like college horndogs everywhere, we talked about the possibility of finding some action back at his home. What we found instead was that his clunker of a car needed some repairs costing more than his car was worth. Exasperated over this glitch, we decided to leave his car in his parent’s garage and thumb a ride back to campus; a 4 hour drive.

We knew it would take a bit more than 4 hours to get back hitching rides. We didn’t count on our 7th hour leaving us at nightfall, with a rain starting, and only getting as far as Mike’s hometown.

I had the idea of calling Mike and talking him into driving us back the rest of the way, and maybe lending us some dry t-shirts and sweatshirts to wear. His mom answered the phone and I said, “Hi Miss Betty, this is Tom, is Mike there?”

She put her sexy talker on with high beams and said, “Tommy, darling, how are you dear? It’s sooo good to hear your voice. How are you doing, babe?”

“Well,” I said,” other than being wet and stuck 80 miles from campus with night coming on, I guess I’m doing okay.