To my amazement, my parents had given me the green light to fly to Los Angeles and stay with Tom's family for Thanksgiving. The only hitch, I had to take college admissions tours of UCLA and USC while I was in California.
"No problem," Tom told me. "I'll drive you to East LA and Westwood on Saturday morning. We'll be back in time to watch the Raiders-Bengals game on TV."
Tom and I were "ringers," which is to say we were scholarship students brought in to fill positions on the Varsity Football Team left vacant by graduating Seniors. Tom was the starting Quarterback, I was the Tight-End.
On the flight to LAX Tom managed to flirt with half-a-dozen girls. By the time we landed, he'd made a date with the cute college girl sitting on the aisle across from us.
The woman who greeted us in the lobby was tall and slender, but wearing a demure wool skirt with matching jacket that revealed little of her figure. Her face, except for full, expressive lips, was hidden behind oversized dark glasses.
"I'm Tommy's Mommy," she said with a childish giggle that caused Tom to roll his eyes at me. She took my hand awkwardly, and when I bent down to kiss her the cheek, she pulled away like a startled doe, leaving me pecking at the dry California air.
"Ummmm, I'm Jason," I stuttered, a little confused by her skittishness.
"Oh, yes, Tommy's told me so much about you," she said. Her voice, though not unpleasant, had a high-pitched, little girl tonality to it. "Why don't you call me Maggie," she suggested uncertainly.
"Okay, Maggie, that'd be great," I told her. Maybe I was being hyper-sensitive, but it almost seemed as if Maggie was unsure, perhaps even somewhat wary, of me.
When we got to their house in Los Feliz, the guest room was already made up, and since it was nearly 3:00 AM on my internal clock, I fell asleep straight away.
I awoke to the smell of bacon, eggs and fresh coffee wafting from a tray on my bedside table. As I joined the world of the waking, I saw Maggie standing next to the bed, her eyes focused intently on my mid-section. It took a moment to realize that sometime in the night I'd kicked off the sheets, leaving my morning woody fully exposed.
I almost reached for the sheets to cover up. But I recalled Maggie's awkwardness at the airport. It didn't compute with the way she now seemed transfixed. There was one intriguing possibility. Could Tom's Mom have a secret thing for younger guys?
Sometimes the best action is no action. I closed my eyes and waited to see what might happen. Besides, there was a certain thrill in having an attractive older woman studying my boy-parts which, make no mistake about it, were neither as long as a yardstick, nor as thick as a firehouse.
Sadly, whatever it was that had arrested Maggie's attention, it wasn't my exceptional length or girth.
A couple minutes passed, and the only thing that seemed to change was that the bacon, eggs and coffee had lost their fragrance. I finally took another peek at Maggie through half-closed lids. Her eyes were still fixed squarely on my cock with her brows furrowed in concentration. The only thing different from earlier was that she now seemed to be biting her lower lip.
As I closed my eyes, my cock twitched with a little jolt of excitement. There was no doubt about one thing, Maggie had truly sexy lips.
It's amazing how difficult it is to remain quiet when you actually try. Even more so when there's an erection involved. Each time my mind wandered back to Maggie's lips--her full, sensual and inviting lips--a fresh tremble of excitement radiated through me, causing my cock to swing like a metronome. That, in turn, produced an audible little hitch in Maggie's breathing, to which something inside me responded by ratcheting up the sexual tension to yet another notch.
My arousal had become a vicious cycle with a completely predictable outcome. I now had an uncontrollable itch, and sooner or later, I was going to have to scratch it.
I suppose there's really no subtle way to jerk off when your best friend's Mom is watching from four feet away. But I gave it a try.
Still, when I discretely wrapped my thumb and forefinger around the base of my shaft, that little hitch in Maggie's breathing that I mentioned, became a full-fledged gasp. At this point, I didn't dare peek at Maggie's reaction, so I did what I had to do, and let my fingers glide up and down my cock as slowly as possible. The first couple of strokes were accompanied by an involuntary sigh of relief as my rampant cock felt momentarily calmed by my own caress.
"Hey, Mom!" I heard Tom's muffled call from somewhere in the house. "Can I use the car?"
There was only the soft swish of fabric as Maggie moved with feline stealth, closing the door so gently that all there was to let me know she had left the room was the faint click of the latch. A few moments later, I heard Maggie and Tom's voices, low and muffled, from downstairs.
The coast was clear, and I could now finish what I had started. Except, that with Maggie gone, it wasn't nearly as exciting. The urgency I felt just seconds ago was slowly receding. Instead of rushing to climax, I waited and listened.
I heard a car start up and pull out of the driveway as Tom took off on some errand, or maybe to meet the little blond from our flight to LAX. The intense sexual edge was clearly gone, although my erection had yet to flag. The mere possibility that Maggie might return was enough to keep me hard.
It wasn't long before I heard the door latch click and felt a faint rush of cool air as Maggie slipped back into the room. I hadn't moved my hand, which was still gripping my shaft.
Suddenly, the dynamics had radically altered. Before Tom's interruption, Maggie's voyeurism could have been explained as an innocent accident. Her return changed everything. With my eyes still closed, I give my cock a couple of energetic strokes, then turned my head and whispered, "Maggie, do you want to watch?"
I thought she might be shocked, or at least pretend to be. But when Maggie's eyes met mine, I could see a desperate hunger, like an addict in need of a fix.
"I shouldn't," she said in new voice that was both deeper and more womanly. "What if Tom found out?"
"Tom will never know," I assured her. "You'd be amazed how good I am at keeping secrets."
"You promise, Jason. You'll never tell him, no matter what."
"I swear, Maggie."
"I believe you," she said with a deep sigh. With that, her body seemed to relax, and I noticed for the first time that she was wearing tight jeans that showed her hips and thighs to good advantage, as well as a simple black t-shirt, through which I could clearly see the curve of her breasts.
"Sit down," I said, tapping the edge of the bed and scrunching over to make room while throwing the sheets completely off my legs. Maggie accepted my invitation, but placed herself at the foot of the bed, perhaps out of my reach, but also directly in my line of sight.
"You knew I was watching earlier, didn't you?" she asked.
"Yes, I knew."
"I didn't mean for this to happen. I was just bringing you breakfast in bed. I always did that for Tom on weekends and holidays when he didn't have school or practice."
"I know," I said, my fingers were slowly working their way up and down my shaft and Maggie's gaze followed them intently.
"God, Jason," she said with genuine anguish. "I shouldn't be here."
"But you are here," I said, stroking myself openly for her. "And you need it… just as much as you need air and water and warm sunlight on your skin."
"So, true!" She looked at me in surprise. "What makes you so wise?"
"Laura," I said.
"A girlfriend?"
"A woman friend. A lover. I'm not as innocent as you think."
With that, I reached down and caught Maggie under the arms. I was amazed at how light she felt as I lifted her off the bed and pulled her on top of me until our lips were within inches of each other, and my cock was trapped against her stomach.
"You wanted to kiss me last night, didn't you?" I asked.
"Yes," she moaned, pausing a moment. "But I wanted so more than a little peck on the check. I was afraid you sensed it, and that Tom might pick up on it too. I acted pretty silly, didn't I?"
"A little," I said looking deeply into her longing eyes. "But I don't get the big deal. I'm just another one of Tom's friends."
"A friend, but hardly just 'another' one," she smiled down at me, I looked blankly back at her. "You really don't get it do you?"
"I guess not."
"How long have you been lifting weights?"
"Five years."
"So look at yourself now. You have the kind of chiseled physique most grown women I know would die for," she sighed.
"But then there're those rosy red cheeks, the unblemished skin and innocent blue eyes. Oh, My, God," Maggie whispered, tracing her fingertips across my chin and down my throat. "We could kiss all night and I'd never get stubble burn."
Then our lips met and I knew from the way Maggie's tongue forced it way between my lips, that she was not about to hold herself back. When we finally came up for air, Maggie rolled off me, exposing my cock again.
"Do you mind if I look a little longer?" she asked. "You must think I'm a terrible pervert, but I just adore watching your body."
"No, not at all," I told her. "Sometimes, well, I actually enjoy being watched."
"Really?" Maggie sounded surprised. "I thought young guys were all shy and self-conscious." I followed her eyes to my cock, which was once again throbbing with excitement.
"I suppose," I told her. "But I don't mind. Actually, it's kind of arousing."
"Yes," she agreed, almost dreamily. "It is."
When I looked down, I saw a tiny drop of clear liquid sitting on the tip. My balls were beginning to ache, my cock was tingling and it was all I could do to keep from grabbing it.
"Do you want to touch yourself again?" Maggie asked, as if reading my mind.
"Yes," I admitted. "I do."
I felt her lean closer, and thought she might be reaching down to touch me. But instead, she whispered softly in my ear, "Go ahead, Jason. I'd like to watch."
"OK," I sighed, and let the fingers of my right hand drift down my chest and over my stomach and abs. My body shivered as they brushed against my public hair. Then caressed the full length of my cock shaft with the back of hand.
Maggie sighed, as if she had somehow shared the same tingling sensation that was coursing through my cock and balls.
The drop of liquid rolled off the tip and left a glistening trail along the smooth skin of my cock head. I caressed the shaft with my fingernails while I studied the way Maggie's pulse beat in the hollow of her throat. I wasn't the only one finding this exquisitely erotic.
"Is that how you like to touch yourself?"
"Sometimes, at least at first," I told her, noticing her stiff nipples were now pressing against the fabric of her t-shirt.
"When I get more excited, I like to do it this way," I said, turning my hand over and letting the tip of my index finger trace a path along the shaft and over the little ridge along the base of my cock head.