Sat in the bath, listening to gentle classical music and enjoying my candle-lit soak, I couldn't have been happier. My husband was away at a conference and my spoilt stepson was out with friends. I shifted slightly and smiled as the water tickled my breasts. I poured more bath soak into the tub and the intoxicating scent of jasmine washed over me. I inhaled deeply, clenching every muscle in my body as I did so. Once, twice, three times. I breathed deeply as the muscles of my pussy tightened. Being home alone meant I had ample time to seduce myself.
Reaching into the water, I ran a finger along my slit. My puffy pussy lips enveloped my manicured digit as it traced over my sex. Sighing deeply, I used my other hand to caress my breasts. They hung, big and heavy, in the scented water. Slowly, I pushed two fingers inside myself, trembling at this new fullness. Masturbating in the bath was nothing new. In my teens, I had used bathtime as a way to sneak illicit touches, fantasising about some older pop star or film icon. Now, at forty, the men who occupied my private moments in the bathtub were far younger. Moving my fingers inside of myself, I ran through the list of young men who had caught my eye recently: the twenty-something clerk at the bank, the new intern in my office, my stepson. My stepson! My fingers stopped moving as I mulled over my attraction to this young man.
Barely twenty-one, Joey stood 6'4" tall. He was in good shape, but his love of sweatpants and baggy t-shirts disguised his tight young body. He had floppy brown hair, sparkling green eyes and a mouth made for pouting. I rarely saw anything other than pouts - in the five years I had been married to his father, Joey had made it clear that he didn't like me. Pushing Joey's disdain for me out of my mind, I visualised him standing there naked in the bathroom. My mind's eye had just reached his waist when the door crashed open, dragging me back into reality.
"Jesus Christ!" I yelled.
In front of me stood Joey. He was visibly drunk, swaying slightly as he tried to pull down his sweatpants. He looked at me, casting a long, obvious look over my naked body and smiled. It was the first time he'd ever truly smiled at me and, wow, it made my pussy tingle.
"I need to pee," he told me, pulling his sweatpants down and revealing his cock.
I don't know how I managed to speak, but I told him to use the other bathroom and sat in disbelief as he padded down the corridor. My stepson had just walked in on me masturbating and bared his cock at me. This was the stuff of fantasies but I couldn't help feeling mortified. The mood was ruined, so I got out of the bath, dried off and slipped into bed, hoping Joey would have forgotten everything by morning.
*****
I didn't see Joey until the next evening. The day had been uneventful and I was stretched out on the sofa with a glass of red wine when he shuffled into the lounge.
"Hey, Joey!" I said, cringing internally at how artificially chirpy my voice sounded.
He just smiled as he took a seat and blankly stared at the TV screen.
My satin pyjamas suddenly seemed like a bad idea. The thin cami straps barely held up my breasts and the shorts had ridden up to show a more than decent amount of my thighs. I tried to shift discretely but the sound caught Joey's attention and his green eyes rested on my body.
He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have drank so much. Please don't tell my dad, he'll go crazy."
Poor kid, I thought. What twenty-one-year-old doesn't get drunk and do embarrassing things?
"It's okay," I smiled, "but you'll owe me one."
Joey nodded in agreement as he shifted slightly in the armchair, moving a cushion in front of him.
Several minutes passed. I stared at the images on the tv screen, trying to concentrate. My mind kept wandering back to my stepson; why had Joey put that cushion in his lap? Had he deliberately exposed himself to me the previous night? Was he as aroused as I was? Unable to control my naughty thoughts any longer, I decided to go to bed. I stood up, grabbed the remote and told Joey he could watch whatever he wanted.
As I bent forwards to give him the remote, I heard a small tearing sound. To my horror, one of the straps of my cami had broken, leaving my breasts exposed. Before I could react, I felt Joey's fingers squeezing my nipple. I couldn't help but moan and lowered myself onto his lap. He rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger as I straddled him. Joey's cock strained against his sweatpants, pressing against me. I rocked back and forth gently and held Joey's face, pulling his chin up. We kissed. It was sensual and passionate, the sort of desperate kiss shared by two people doing something they know they should be ashamed of.
Joey bit my lip, taking my breasts in his hands and squeezing them gently. His lithe young fingers kneaded my flesh as I slipped my hand into my pyjama bottoms. The satin fabric had been damp since Joey walked into the room. I stroked my clit as I ground my wet pussy against my stepson. Joey's soft lips pressed against mine and his tongue danced in my mouth.
Needing more, I stood up, ready to remove my pyjamas and be fucked by my stepson. As I did so, I heard the front door open.
"I'm home!" My husband's voice sent panic running through me as I scrambled to cover myself up.
Holding up the strap of my cami, I kissed Joey.
"We'll finish this tomorrow," I whispered, nibbling his earlobe.
Joey snuck up to his room and I walked into the corridor. There stood my husband, looking handsome in his suit and winter coat. He smiled when he saw me, scooping me into a warm embrace and kissing me. As he did so, my breast was once again exposed and he squeezed my nipple.
Like father, like son...
