When my mom, Selena, decided to rent a room in our basement, it was a great concept on paper. The revenue generated from the rental income would help pay for bills. She went through a lot of potential candidates to live in our home, weeding out those who we felt were troublesome. The basement did not have a separate entrance, so it important for us to feel safe with whoever was walking through our front door to get to theirs.

My Mom, an Executive MILF, is Swooning Over Her Young Arab Intern

While many applicants seemed like worthy candidates, it just so happened that my mom’s Arabic intern, a kid named Hussein, was looking for a place to stay during his internship (she found out about Hussein’s housing search after we put the ad out). Hussein was a stocky, boyishly-cute twenty-year-old Arabic student who looked down at me when he was with me, not because he was about 6’1 and I was 5’8, but because was the opposite of me in just about every way that mattered. In spite of me being a couple of years older than him, I looked like a beta male to his alpha. Though I was what one would call meek in appearance, I put a lot of work into my appearance, unlike Hussein, was more of a rugged man’s man. All the applicants came to see our place dressed well for a great first impression, but when Hussein came over to check out our place, he wore a t-shirt and jeans. He didn’t even bother to take off his dirty boots upon entering our home. Selena insisted that Hussein was the one to move in with us, inadvertently insulting me by saying “it would be nice to have a man around the house.” I know what she meant though: Hussein’s big hands and stocky body implied strength, something I lacked.

I asked Hussein if he would be giving us first and last month’s rent by cash or check, but Selena cut me off. She and Hussein talked it over and decided that, with his minimal budget, the least we could do is let him stay rent-free, at least for a while. The idea was, by not worrying about money, he would be able to completely focus on the internship and his education. Hussein was watching me intently with his fists clenched as she told me this, waiting for my reaction, almost like she was prepared for me to object. Knowing what it’s like to swim in student debt, I saw my mom’s point of view and welcomed Hussein into our home as a resident. Hussein smiled at me and slapped my cheeks a few times. He didn’t mean to, but his slaps hurt since his hands were so thick.

The three of us had dinner together that evening, though I might as well have not been there – Hussein and my mother talked to each other the whole night. I was the first to finish, and about 10 minutes into washing dishes, I suddenly felt Hussein’s arm over my shoulder while slipping in his dirty plate into the sink.

“Wash that up for me, will ya bud?” Hussein said with a wink before ruffling my hair and leaving before I could reply. I feel like that as a turning point during this whole saga. I washed up Hussein’s plate while he joined Selena in the living room. I know that moment established the rank in the household. I should have told him that he had to pull his own weight around the house, including washing his own dishes. But while I thought about the practicality of such a statement, I couldn’t help feel comfortable tending to the Arab’s needs. Having someone to look after, to serve, gave me a rush in my stomach I can’t describe. Leaving a good impression on him felt like it would parlay into more activities for me, perhaps establishing a relationship of sorts. I snapped out of my nonsense at that moment questioning the origins of such foreign thoughts.

Wife Cheated on Me With Arabic College Intern
For more pics of Master Jack see “Brutal Tops“.

Nonetheless, after he moved in, things changed drastically. Hussein didn’t talk to me in a friendly way or even with respect ever. When he spoke to me, it was very authoritative, always instructional, like I was beneath him, especially when my mother was around. The weird thing was that Selena never came to my defense. Perhaps it’s because she wanted her son to stand up for himself. Hussein would do things like wink at my mother or smile at her anytime he made me look like a servant in front of her. From my peripheral vision, I knew she was smiling at him when these things occurred.

Selena and Hussein would hang out in the living room after I went to bed almost every night since he had moved in. At times I would be awoken by movement of furniture, sometimes in thrusts. I always knew exactly where they sat the previous night based on random articles of clothing scattered around the couch, both his and hers.

As the days went by, Selena became better friends with Hussein, spending more time with him than me. Their relationship evolved from intern/employer to tenant/landlord, and eventually, roommate/friend. My mom and Hussein went out after work a lot – sometimes with other staff from work, other times to hang out with his friends. She would pay for meals when they ate out, and tickets when they were at the movies.

As each day passed, Hussein made himself more at home than I had expected. He would eat most of my food, sprawled out on my couch wearing his t-shirt and boxers, bare feet on my coffee table, watching soccer on my big screen TV. Sometimes he would tell ask me to grab something (of mine) for him from the fridge. He soon took my generosity for granted – by the end of the week, he had convinced me to have dinner prepared for him and my mother every night after a long day at work. I was happy to contribute to his needs as he saw fit. Sometimes he told me what to cook, and sometimes I’d spend hours studying recipe books and online videos learning how to make Arabian cuisine! Mind you, Hussein wasn’t big on gratitude, at least not towards me. It was like he didn’t expect anything less of obedience and servitude from me. This did not deter me, though. I was determined to leave an impression on this kid; a yearning to please that seemed to increase with each passing day. His approval felt like validation for me, though I don’t know why.

My Wife Asked Me to Watch Her Suck Arab Student's Big Cock
For more pics in this series see “21Sextury Pictures“.

One day I decided to surprise my mom at work. Cutting through the parking lot, I saw Hussein sitting on the passenger’s side of my mom’s SUV. His eyes were closed, his arm was resting on the open windowsill, his head was cocked back, and his mouth was emitting moans in slow motion. I heard strange noises for a moment when I passed him, like someone was choking on something. Just as I got close to the window, Hussein’s eyes opened. His eyes met mine, and he kept his gaze on me while I walked passed him. He looked down and began talking with a smirk on his face. I assumed he was talking to someone in the car’s speakerphone.

“Hi Hussein,” I asked approaching the van. “Know where my mom’s at?”

“I sure do,” Hussein laughed. “She says to go up to her office and wait for there. Watch the teeth!”

“What’s wrong with my teeth?” I asked confused, assuming he was talking to my mother on speakerphone. “Hi, Mom!” I shouted into the SUV.

“Jeez, just get the fuck outta here!” Hussein shouted, shooing me away with his hand. “Fuckin’ cockblocker!” I gargled slurp emitted from the SUV, followed by a girlish giggle. I shrugged my shoulders and walked into the building. My mother showed up about a half hour later, though her hair seemed tangled and her lips coated with a shiny gloss.

“Hi honey,” She said while making a beeline for her private washroom in the office. “Give me a minute to freshen up. I’ll be right with you.”

“Yeah, sure mom, take your time,” I said as Hussein walked by the window. The shit-eating smile on his face and thumbs-up he gave me implied that he was up to no good. The high-fives he got from some of the other guys in the office suggested he achieved something impressive.

END