I come out to lie in the sun. Blanket. Soft grass. July noon leering down hard. Light and heat trickles over skin and sinew, seeps into muscle and bone. I feel sleek, strong and a little sore after this morning’s workout. I punished myself at the spa over this haze of succulent daydreams setting my days and nights on end. Discomfiting fissures in a lifetime of correct behavior.
Once upon a time I knew where everything fit.
It was another tiny fissure when I stopped to buy this bikini on the way home from my spa. Now I feel the sun in places that never saw it before. My body feels different somehow, as if I can feel the soft scrape of the blood pouring through my flesh. The top is so small my breasts feel larger. Heavier. Outspoken. I blushed like a schoolgirl when I tried it on, even though it was just me and the bedroom mirror.
In place of my reflection I saw Shane looking back at me, clumsily masking his adoring surprise. And me, turning away to giggle and blush over a secret, personal triumph.
Sometimes, even the little victories like hot delicacies. And sometimes they’re enough just because they have to be.
We feel a rush and then hide from each other.
My heart skipped all the way from my bedroom to here, wondering, even hoping he’d catch me padding through the house. He didn’t, but I know he’s watching from somewhere. I feel him. I come to count on him, and I know he’ll come out to find me.
It’s been like this since the day he moved in for the summer. He’s a favor my husband owes an old friend. Hulk of an aimless college boy who sits for ages while I tan, finding excuses to come ever closer, to do things for me. Yesterday, he fetched so many glasses of sticky-sweet lemonade I lost count of the times I had to run inside to pee.
And yet I know how he loves to watch me run. I didn’t run on the way back, though. I took my time and felt his look. It was enough to make my heart race and pussy churn.
“Hey Mrs. Chase.”
“Oh hi, Shane.”
I lift and turn my head to watch him cross the yard, seeing his sudden hesitation when he sees how naked I am. He’s wearing sunglasses, but I don’t have to see his eyes to know how they wander.
He’s not wearing a T shirt today and his beautifully muscled body stops the air in my throat. Baggy shorts hang loose and low on his hips. If I were braver, I’d yank them right down and satisfy this nagging curiosity. But I only flash my most casual, matter-of-fact smile.
He sits in a lawn chair a few yards away and opens a paperback to the same page he’s been pretending to read all week. I lay my head back and savor his shy attention. My thighs drift apart, just enough to know he’ll see that small strip of material running between them. It’s barely wider than my pussy. It feels pasted to my skin.
My nipples tingle and gather under the sun and Shane’s furtive gaze. I think my life has become a recurring dream. Ever since that night last week. A few fleeting moments in the kitchen. An innocent coincidence.
My husband was sleeping. I heard Shane rattling around the kitchen. I felt such an urge to be near him. His classically beautiful body played on my unsettled mind. I didn’t put on a robe as I normally would. I had to see if the attention I’d been sensing was real.
I entered the dim kitchen in a scant little bra and panties.
“Hey there, Shane. Something keeping you up?”
“Oh, hi Mrs. Chase. I was just…” I felt his eyes devoure my heavy, round breasts. My nipples woke up with a start. “…thirsty.”
I forced myself forward calmly, drawing close to him by the sink where he leaned back with a glass of water. All he had on was a tight pair of nylon boxer briefs. It was painful to keep from staring. He was magnificent, and trying just as hard as me to keep from staring. I reached for a glass from the cabinet, going up on my toes higher than I needed. What was I thinking? Why did I have to flex my tight ass in front of him?
It came to me then that somewhere there had to a thousand dim rooms with a thousand women and young men taking careful note of a thousand points of attraction. A thousand others just like me, discovering the promise of something delicious inside us all. How many have the power to push their instincts aside?
Or are my instincts pushing me aside?
“Want some water, Mrs. C?”
“I think I’ll have some juice,” I said, smiling.
I opened the refrigerator, bathing myself in its light as I bent down. My legs were straight as pins. He never saw the tremor in my hand as I fumbled for the container. I’ll never know how that juice got poured without spilling all over the counter.
I leaned beside him, near enough to feel the warmth of his stunning body. One light touch and I think I would have screamed.
His boxer briefs were fully packed, but I could barely bring myself to look. Something raised the glass to my lips, some force that wasn’t me. I could barely swallow while vivid thoughts of touching his cock swirled through my addled mind. My nipples felt hard as a pair of jewels.
Shane turned and pressed himself against the counter. I couldn’t see, but I knew he was getting hard and didn’t want me to see. If he only knew how wet I was getting.
I finished my juice and put my glass in the sink.
“Don’t stay up too late, okay?”
“I won’t, ma’am.”
I think his voice was a little choked, but maybe it was all in my mind. I almost laughed when he called me ma’am. I felt a sudden rush of dangerous confidence.
“No need to be so formal all the time, Shane,” I told him. “My friends just call me Violet, and if you’re going to be living here then don’t you think we should try to be friends?”
Then…in that next idiotic, insane second…I touched his shoulder. His muscle felt so hard and I swear his skin was on fire. The confidence suddenly turned into something else. Something even more dangerous. I practically whipped my hand back to my chest and turned to go.
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered. “I mean…Violet.”
Maybe it was only my imagination teasing me when I felt so sure he turned and actually touched his excited cock as he watched me walk away.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought the booming in my ears was loud enough to wake my husband. It wasn’t, of course, and as soon as I slipped back into bed, my fingers did a silent spider-walk down inside my panties.
My lips were wet and so very flushed. I fought to keep still as my fingertips grazed and dipped. I had to bite my lip to contain a moan when I touched my aching clit. I rubbed and pressed, rubbed and pressed even more, urging the little nub to swell with electric sensation.
An innocent little accident, I reminded myself. That solid body was so stark in my mind as my fingers probed my sheath. Just an everyday occurrence. A fit, shapely housewife – blonde and youthful - feels a little thirsty late one night while her tall, muscular houseguest has the same idea. Happens all the time. Doesn’t it?
I thought about the fuck toys in the drawer just a few feet away. How they would feel so much better than my fingers. But I didn’t want to wake my husband. How would I explain that burning desire to cum after padding around the kitchen in a lacy bra and thong in front of the college bound son of his old law school friend?
I was sure Shane was back in his room with a ripe, overheated cock in his hand. Stroking himself while he thought of me in the light of the open refrigerator. I had a deep and sudden longing to go take care of him. Oh yes, even taste him. How sweet it would be to watch his eyes roll back in his head while I touch my warm lips to that clear sap dripping from the tip of his hard cock.
My pussy was dripping like a piece of overripe fruit as I pawed myself. In my mind, all I could see was the look of surprise on Shane’s beautiful face as I entered his room, slipping out of my bra and panties. I could see his thick cock stand upright as he gripped himself.
“I’ll take care of that for you, baby,” I heard myself say. “You’re a big, beautiful man, and Violet’s gonna show you how good that can feel.”
I saw myself go straight to his bed and calmly sit, take his wrist and draw his hand off his cock, only to replace it with mine. The way he throbbed in my grip felt so real. I could have sworn I was really holding him, really stroking the full length of his beautiful shaft, teasing his balls, stroking and pumping, gasping delightedly when his cum geysered up in hot, foaming jets.
I never thought it possible to cum that hard without waking up my husband, without crying or thrashing. But anything’s possible if you need it enough.
I was so sure I was losing my mind I could barely look Shane in the eye the next day, even though he was suddenly so attentive. When I went out to work on my tan, it seemed he was there every time I exhaled, running to fetch me drinks or magazines to read.
I ran a thousand, echoing conversations through my mind, as if I were rehearsing to scold him for looking at his hostess the wrong way. “That’s how you’re supposed to look at the young women on your campus,” I’d say. “Not a woman well into her thirties. And certainly not the wife of your father’s old friend.”
In one scenario he responds by pinning me to wall with his hard, massive body, his sweet, warm breath brushing my lips as he says, “But you’re the only one I want to see. You’re the one who makes me say, ‘That’s what a woman is meant to look like.’ There will never be a love in my life like you. Can you feel how hard you make me? There’s nothing I can do. Help me, oh god, help me…”
Where do you turn when you don’t trust your body or mind? When you feel you have a secret life you can’t even tell your friends. In the end, whatever’s in a person’s heart always comes down to the eyes. Shane has yet to learn how to hide what’s in his. Me? I thought I wrote the book on hiding. Until now.
So this morning, before I went to my club, I waited for my husband to leave and listened for Shane’s appearance in the dining room to eat his breakfast. I wore even skimpier panties this time. Low cut, with lace and a transparent gusset like a little window on my pussy. I’m not sure how I managed to even slip them up my legs with such shaky hands. Then a matching bra, very low cut with transparent half cups.
I slipped on a pair of small-heeled slippers and went downstairs. I was a bundle of nerves, yet filled with a power I’d never hope to control. I took a deep breath and put a smile on my face to enter the room.
“Get enough to eat?” I asked, in lieu of announcing myself.
Shane didn’t know where to look, and I couldn’t suppress a naughty giggle. He looked like he wanted to eat me. I’m sure I’d have climbed right up there on the table and let him if he’d asked. I sauntered into the kitchen and poured coffee. I took my time on the way back, as if I were being careful not to spill my coffee, even though I put an extra little sway in my hips just for him.
As soon as I rounded the corner and hit the stairs, I rushed back to my room before he could see the nectar showing through my panties.
It’s dangerous to think of these things as I lie here knowing he watches me. So much heat already building in my pussy. Days and nights of sweet teasing. Have I been teasing him or only myself? I’m dying to look at his shorts for evidence of his strong, young erection, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Or can I?
I take a fleeting glimpse as I roll to my stomach. His head nods toward the book, but his eyes are all over me as I stretch and move. I keep my thighs apart like before, revealing the slender gusset of my thong. The sun feels wonderful on my exposed ass, but the knowledge of Shane’s surreptitious gaze is indescribable.
With a deep breath, I loosen my top as if I want to avoid tan lines. My full breasts press out along the sides. I feel so naked, and the pressure of my own weight against my breasts makes me a little crazy. I could almost beg him to come touch them, to explore my willing flesh with his massive hands. I close my eyes but I can still see him. I want him to think I look bored. Sleepy.
He’s suddenly standing over me, casting his shadow across my back. My ass is as good as naked to him. I crane to look up, my breasts pillowing under me.
“Yes, baby, I guess I am. I’m a thirsty Violet wilting in the sun,” I smile. “Are you offering?”
“Your wish is my command,” he quips and nearly runs into the house.
Now’s the time to regret my actions. I can still turn back, change my mind, forget I ever felt this way. But before I can reproach myself much further, Shane is already coming back with a glass of ice water in each hand. He sits on the edge of the blanket and holds one out to me. I lean up to take it, allowing my breasts barely enough room to quiver beneath me. He can see all but the pale rose tips while I drink and let water spill down my chin and neck.
“Thank you, Shane,” I tell him, setting the empty glass aside. “What did I ever do to deserve such wonderful service?”
“I, um, just like being able to help out around here. Pull my weight, I guess,” he says, almost shyly.
“Well, you’ve been so good to me I hate to ask for anything else.”
My heart wants to explode in the split second or two before he responds.
“That’s okay. You guys are putting me up and all. Anything you want.”
“Well, um, could you give me a hand with this?” I hold up the bottle of tanning lotion. “I have a lot more to cover with this new suit.”
“Yeah…” he swallows hard, “…I kind of noticed that…Violet.”
I giggle happily as he takes the bottle and sprays lotion across my shoulder blades. Then he’s rubbing it over my skin. But he’s not just spreading lotion. He’s massaging me. Relaxing and exciting me at the same time. His hands feel so strong and a little bit shaky. He sprays my lower back, continuing his deep massage.
“Get the sides, too, baby,” I say dreamily.
He does the left side first, and when his slick hand slides quickly over the bulging side of my breast I let him hear my soft purr. He brushes over again, and again. I purr and mewl at him every time so he’ll know it’s okay. So very very okay.
Now he’s on the right, his hand sliding up from my hip, along my ribs, now slipping back and forth across the side-swell of my breast with deliberate care. I want to lift up and let him maul my naked tits, but something holds me back. Some final shred of shame or decency. But I don’t want to be decent, and I certainly don’t want to be ashamed.
He hesitates when he finishes the right side. It feels like he’s stopping.
“Won’t you do my legs, too, Sweetie? I don’t want to burn.” I’m hoping to sound dreamy. Even bored. But my voice feels shaky.
I was already burning, but it wasn’t from the sun.
“Um, sure, if you really want me to.”
“Oh yes, I really want you to. And take your time. You have wonderful hands.”
It feels like someone else’s voice speaking through me. Some devil or angel living inside me I never knew was there.
Shane sprays down each of my legs, from my bared cheeks to my heels. He starts with my ankles, gripping with both hands, giving each of my calves a deep massage. Strong thumbs rolling against the muscle.
“Mmm, Shhhane, that’s exquisite.”
He treats my thighs the same way, but taking more time, letting his hands move higher with each pass. My pussy is broiling now and I have to open my thighs hoping the air will cool me down. But that’s not really true. I want him to see how wet he’s making me. To see that slick stain on my thong. Just touch it, Baby. Mmm, just press your fingers into me.
But he leaves my pussy to its deep yearning and places his hands over my bare ass now. His hands begin smearing the lotion, tentative.
“Okay, ma’am…um, I mean Violet?”
“Oh yes, Baby. Very okay.”
He begins to knead each muscle and I arch, pushing my ass upward into his grip. He can’t mistake my mewling sighs of pleasure and massages each firm sphere until my hips arch and roll with gathering need.
Suddenly he’s not touching me at all and I realize I’m grinding my ass into thin air and plaintively whispering his name.
“Shane…Shane…don’t stop. It feels so…”
I sense him shifting behind me. I can’t see what he’s up to but I feel him settle between my open thighs.
Oh my god, but that’s his cock pressing into the cleft between my cheeks. I can feel every pulsing throb of his overheated stalk. His girth is astonishing. So much thicker than I’m used to.
He moves against me, sliding his cock along the furrow of my ass. I grind back, flex my muscles around him. He’s too excited. His amazing cock twitches and spasms and I feel his jetting cum spatter the small of my back, soaking into the waist of the thong.
He gasps in surprise. Fucks against me, milking himself.
“Oh jesus, Violet, I’m…I’m sorry…”
He pulls away. Leaves me breathless and shivering.
He’s still stammering apologies as I roll and sit up. My top hangs loose and my breasts quake as I move. I have to suppress a giggle at how he looks with his shorts around his ankles and his big naked cock still standing up so beautifully proud. He’s stunning, still sputtering, and he can’t take his eyes off my fully exposed breasts.
“It’s okay, Shane,” I say. “You knew I wanted you to.”
I flip off my top and reach for his conspicuous cock. He’s still engorged, but turning flexible again. The kneading strokes of my fingers keep him there. Hot skin still wet with his own cum and yet he begins to swell again.
I’m not quite sure if he’s trying to apologize for cumming so fast or cumming at all. I touch his cheek but keep my hand moving up and down his beautiful cock.
“It felt wonderful, Baby,” I assure him softly. “And, um, it doesn’t look like you’re quite finished.”
His face relaxes when I giggle and wag his amazingly resilient cock. He kicks the shorts away from his ankles, and we lie naked together under the sun in my backyard. My damp thong is the only shred of modesty remaining between us.
The rest of the world is away on vacation.
I lean up to kiss him, and when his mouth opens his hand moves over my breasts. Our tongues roll and sweep while he traces the contours of my mounds. My nipples feel so hot and thick under his searching hands. His cock is already pulsing again as I stroke and pull. His shaft is so slick with his still wet cum and he’s already oozing more precum. I give his granite flesh a playful squeeze, trying to milk even more of his juice.
I lean back, as if his tongue is driving me down on the blanket. But he’s careful not to slam me. He treats me like something delicate. Like I could break if he touches too hard. But he kisses me hard, deep and forever.
His hands feel so big, even around the fullness of my prominent breasts. He’s rolling a nipple in his fingertips, testing its hardness. I gasp into his hungry mouth. His hand moving to the other nipple, tweezing and rolling, pinching and pulling.
My cries feel strangled when he pulls my nipple deeply into his mouth and sucks. He’s sucking almost too hard, but not quite. His hand pushes under my thong, sliding over my saturated pussy. His fingers are all over my slit. Spreading and probing like he owns it.
A large finger slips up inside, going deep while his mouth covers the other yearning nipple. I have to fight for air. His fingers are everywhere at once, his wet tongue rolling over the nub at the tip of my breast. I want to scream when he finds my pulsing clit, grinding the pad of his thumb back and forth.
His finger pulls back from my channel and searches my rim. My throat is useless as the slick finger teases my tight little pucker. Oh my god he’s really doing it! Pressing that fingertip into my ass. Just enough to tease.
I grip my own breast. The one he’s not sucking. Ravage my own hot nipple while his finger wiggles at my rim.
He’s yanking my thong off and I let him. What else am I going to do? He kneels above me, his imposing cock jutting forward and up. It looks like such a hot, angry thing. He pushes my supple thighs so wide I can barely stand it. The direct sun on my open pussy is almost enough to make me cum.
He swoops down to lick me. His tongue swipes upward along my needful slit. His lips close around my clit. He sucks. Rolls his wet tongue over my knot and pushes his finger back inside. I clamp my smooth thighs around his head and grind at his face.
He’s sucking and licking and pumping me full of fingers. I think I’m cumming. I know I’m cumming! My ass is lifting off the blanket while I writhe against his ravenous mouth. My whole body is pure electricity and I disappear in a shower of bright sparks.
I don’t know when or where or even how I come back to myself. Only Shane’s driving tongue reminds me I still have a body. A body that suddenly needs his raging cock more than air or water or even love.
I beat on his broad shoulders with weak fists, but he gets it. He’s looming over me, blocking the sun. I run my hands along the fluid muscles of his arms as he holds himself up. His blunt dome sways and bobs against my honied slit.
The lower half of his beautiful face is lathered with my nectar, and there’s a look in his eye I never saw before. I think he sees a look in mine he has
I reach for his cock. The heat of his flesh is astonishing, and I don’t know when I’ve touched anything so hard yet so silken. There’s no time to guide him lovingly into my pussy. That’s for people making love and right now all I want to do is fuck. I need to fuck. Love to fuck. Maybe all I was ever born to do is fuck.
My hips roll as his blunt cock opens me. Inching and probing. His length takes forever to reach its limit. So thick my eyes well. Something barely like a human voice pushes up and out of me as he draws back and then shoves himself back in.
“Yesssss,” I cry. “Let me have it all. Everything you have. Let it be for me, Shane. Just…you…for me…”
He looms down and kisses me so hard and deep I can almost feel the blades of grass through the blanket on the back of my head. There’s a pungent richness in his mouth. It’s the tang of my own pussy. I’m all over his lips and tongue. Lapping my own taste from his lips, sucking his tongue like a miniature cock
His shaft plunges unmercifully, like he’s trying to shove me forward with every thrust. His hands gather up the full mounds of my sumptuous breasts. He lowers his head, takes loud, ravenous sucks of each distended tip.
I grasp at his hair with one hand and clutch his solid ass with the other, following the quick lurching flex of his body. After his first cum his cock holds its staggering hardness until I start to cum. It’s a wet rocket shooting through my body. Again and again until I’m floating in space.
“Cum with me! Cum with me now!”
My hand lifts and smacks down hard on his ass. He’s so firm it almost hurts, but I do it again. Then again. And again, as if I’m trying to spank the cum out of him.
Shane cries out, arching his back and pumps me to the blanket like a limp ragdoll. I cum again while he cums. I cum and I cum and I…
“Violet? Violet? Wake up!”
I open my eyes but my head is spinning. The blanket is a rumpled mess. I’ve rolled onto my back and my naked breasts quiver as my gorgeous young houseguest grips my shoulders, shaking me to consciousness.
“You were thrashing all over the place.”
He’s trying to look me in the eye with all his lovely concern, but he can’t pry his eyes from my breasts. My top still hangs around my neck, dangling uselessly between my fleshy mounds. I realize I’m still in my thong, but it’s soaked and riding deeply into my crease. Shane is still wearing his shorts, but there’s a tent in front that would sleep a family of five.
“You must have been having quite a dream,” he chuckles, trying to cover that impossible hardness.
It makes me shy to think of what he must have seen me do to rumple that blanket in my sleep. But I don’t feel sorry at all.
“Oh it was, Shane. It was an amazing dream,” I tell him feeling as if I’m still having it. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
“Promise?” he says, eyes full of mischief. “Sometime soon?
“I promise, Baby. Sometime soon.”
He gets up and hurries inside. Something urgent to attend to in his room, I’m perfectly sure. I gather up my blanket and follow him inside.
Soon, Baby, very soon. I promised. On a day like this, I could promise you anything.
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<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/straight-sex/violets-time.aspx">Violet's Time</a>