My parents took off for a weekend vacation, leaving me with our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jones, and she seemed pretty happy to get a break from her husband. I've heard they haven't been getting along well since their kids left for college.
I just turned eighteen and will be starting college in the fall, so a babysitter seems pretty unnecessary, but my folks were dead set on Mrs. Jones staying at our house, which completely blew up my plans for an awesome sleepover with my friends.
Mrs. Jones is nice, but hanging out with someone in their fifties isn't my idea of fun. So, after dinner, I head up to my room, trying to make the most of my weekend. I decide to change into my nightdress, binge some TV shows, and chat with my friends online.
As the night unfolds, I hear the front door opening, which is weird, so I quietly sneak out of my room and creep down the hall to the top of the stairs. I hide there in the shadows, peering into the living room. Mrs. Jones walks in, and to my surprise, she's with my volleyball coach. What is he doing here?
Mrs. Jones has changed her outfit, now wearing a flashy red dress and sleek black heels. And there is the coach, looking somewhat out of place in his jeans and basic black shirt.
"Are you sure she's asleep?" he whispers to Mrs. Jones.
My curiosity spikes instantly, and I lean in closer, straining to hear every word of their quiet conversation. Mrs. Jones responds with confidence, "Oh, she's definitely asleep. Went to bed over an hour ago."
I continue to observe them from my hiding spot, trying to make sense of the situation. Why is my volleyball coach meeting with Mrs. Jones in the middle of the night? And at our house?
The coach smiles, pulling Mrs. Jones into an embrace, and whispers, "It's incredible to finally have some alone time. I've really missed you."
"I've missed you too," she whispers back, her voice laden with emotion as she wraps her hands around his neck.
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks: my volleyball coach and Mrs. Jones are having an affair!
Coach leans in for a passionate kiss, their tongues intertwined. Oh, my gawd! I can't believe it! She's almost 20 years older than him! Mrs. Jones, despite her age, maintains an impressive figure, with her red hair always styled and her makeup flawless. Coach, who is in his early thirties, has rugged good looks and a muscular build that even makes him a hot topic in the girls' locker room.
I must admit that I find the coach attractive as well, but knowing that he has a young wife and a baby on the way makes this even more confusing. It's difficult to understand why he would put everything on the line for an affair with Mrs. Jones.
"Let's go upstairs," she purrs, taking his hand.
I dash back into my room, afraid they will catch me spying. Leaving my door just a crack open, I listen to their footsteps ascending the stairs. They pause at the top, likely at the entrance to my parents' bedroom. Once I hear the door shut, I tiptoe out and cautiously peer through the keyhole. My view is limited—just a small glimpse of my parents' bed. The sounds of kissing and moaning are clear, but they're out of my line of sight.
My heart begins to race, and my pussy feels warm and tingly as I try to see what's going on. Why am I so turned on by this? I notice a naked silhouette moving across the room, and I catch a glimpse of a cock as they get up on the bed. This is so wrong! I know I should leave, but my curiosity and desire keep me here.
As the coach thrusts his hips, Mrs. Jones cries out in delight, her voice echoing throughout the house. Careful not to make a sound, I sneak my hand under my panties, my fingers sliding along my wet folds before dipping in and out of my slick depths. I'm so bad! I can't take my eyes off his toned buttocks and the way they flex with each powerful movement.
"Oh, John! Fuck me!" she moans, and his movements become more intense. "Yes, just like that!"
He grunts, "Fuck, your pussy feels so good!"
My fingers move faster to match his savage thrust; he's not gentle, and she enjoys the roughness.