The doorbell rang. I sprang to my feet and answered it. Upon opening the door, I was greeted by my husband’s ex-wife, Lucy, and their sixteen-year-old son, Danny.

Danny’s eyes locked onto mine. He stared at me with that familiar gaze I’d seen so many times before, a look of longing and admiration. It had been a couple of months since I had last seen Danny, and, I must admit, I was quite taken aback by his adult appearance. He had always been a handsome young man, but now he had whiskers growing above his top lip and around his chin, making him look even more handsome than before. He had on shorts and a t-shirt and I couldn’t help but admire the fuzzy black hair covering his arms and legs.

I beamed down at him. “Hello, Danny. My, you are looking all grown-up these days, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he grunted in reply, full of teenage angst.

I turned my attention to Lucy. “So, how long have I the privilege of looking after young Danny?”

“Just this week. I’m taking a short break abroad. I’ll pop round and pick him up Friday, if that’s okay?”

“It’s not fair,” Danny interrupted, his bottom lip protruding. “I’m sixteen years old; why can’t I stay at home on my own?”

“We’ve been through this a million times already,” his mother replied exasperatedly. “Last time I left you home alone you had friends over. Remember?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“There were beer stains on the carpet. My house stank of cigarette smoke, and somebody had been fornicating in my bed.” Lucy raised her voice as she said the last bit, adding emphasis to the fact that strangers had screwed in her bed.

Danny snorted scornfully.

“Well, boys will be boys,” I said, grinning, then waved Danny into the house. “Come along, Danny, in you come. Your father’s out, taking the dog for a walk. He should be back shortly”

The scent of aftershave wafted up my nose as Danny squeezed past me through the door, titillating my senses, making me go weak at the knees. He trudged down the hallway, his flip-flops slapping against the soles of his feet with every step. Watching him from behind, I couldn’t help but admire his thin, hairy legs and the swagger in his step. My lust for him was rising, becoming so strong that I felt a sudden urge to rip off all his clothes and ravish his scrawny body. I have always had a penchant for teenage boys, especially their slight bodies, and now Danny had grown into a handsome young man, an object of my desire. I made it my mission there and then to turn him into my little fuck toy. The mere thought sent a shiver of excitement through my loins.

“Erm…excuse me... Donna,” said Danny’s mother, breaking me from my reverie.

I turned my attention back to her, feeling my desire for her son increasing, becoming almost unbearable. “Ah, I forgot you were there,” I giggled. “Anyway, must dash. Cheerio,” I said before slamming the door closed on her.

Even though I was twenty years older than Danny, old enough to be his mother, it did nothing to quell my lust for him. The urge to tear off all his clothes and ravish his young, teenage body was overwhelming. At that moment in time, my mind was consumed with nothing other than images of me tugging off his underpants and sucking his teen sausage to the back of my throat.

The cleft between my legs was moist and tingling with arousal, dripping wet just thinking about the young man in my house. The fact that he was my stepson did nothing to fan the flames burning in my loins. Hurriedly I fanned my face with my hands, straightened my clothes, and went on the prowl, determined to get my claws into some teenage flesh.

I joined Danny in the kitchen and saw him sitting at the table, fiddling with his smartphone. The sexual tension was almost tangible the moment I entered the room and set eyes on him. I wanted to enjoy the chase, string it out, seduce him slowly, but my loins throbbed with an urgent need, so I went straight in for the kill. Unfastening the top three buttons of my blouse, I offered Danny an eyeful of my ample cleavage. Feeling a shiver of arousal run through me when I realised my bra was also visible, I turned to Danny to gauge his reaction. He turned to me, his eyes settling on my heaving cleavage and frilly black bra.

His mouth gaped and his eyes widened. He ogled my chest with a sexual leer on his face. The naughty young man was as horny as I. The revelation made me even more aroused, and I couldn’t help but wonder what his young todger would feel like in my mouth. I wanted to rub my tits and pussy all over his face, suck his tender cock into my mouth and milk him over and over again, extract every drop of semen from his scrotum until his balls shrank to the size of peanuts.

Grinning and biting into my bottom lip, I asked, “Does your mother ever cuddle you, Danny? Does she ever bury your head in her bosom?”

“No. Never.” He sat stock still, eyes still leering at my exposed cleavage and bra.

“Oh you poor thing,” I said, walking toward him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and yanked his head against my chest, burying his face in my bare cleavage. He gasped with delight, so I slipped a hand down the back of his shirt and stroked his back, bestowing feather-light caresses up and down his smooth flesh. His skin broke out in goosebumps and he sighed softly. Trembling and quivering with sensation, he wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed me tight.

I wriggled my bosom gently, rubbing my cleavage all over his face, then rested my chin on the crown of his head and whispered, “Oh, Danny, you need not worry. You’ll have more fun here with me over this next week than you would at home with your friends.”

“Do you really think so?” he stammered nervously.

Just you drop those pants to your ankles and let me suck your throbbing erection into my mouth and insert a finger or two into your arse, I thought, and then you’ll know what fun really is.

I had the sudden urge to grope his body, touch him all over, so I pulled his head away from my breasts, grasped his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I bet you enjoy wrestling. I bet you love having a wrestle with your friends.”

“I’m sixteen. Sixteen-year-olds don’t play wrestle, Donna. It’s lame.”

You won’t be saying it’s lame when my legs are wrapped around your head and my soppy wet clam’s dribbling puss juice all over your face, I thought.

“Come on. Don’t be a spoilsport. Let’s have a wrestle.” Before he could protest, I pounced on him and got him in a headlock. My right tit was mashed against his face as I held him in place and slipped a hand up his top. A shrill cry of pleasure tore from his mouth when I tweaked and twisted his nipples and tickled his tummy. He was squealing with delight and thrashing and writhing with sheer excitement and elation, so I walked him through to the lounge and released him from the headlock, giving him a chance to retaliate.

My eyes lit up as I caught a brief glimpse of the bulge at the front of his shorts, his erection tenting the fabric and pointing straight at me. Judging by the size of the bulge, I guessed his willy to be four inches long. I licked my lips in anticipation. After all, I like my sausages small and cute, and Danny seemed to be packing a delicious chipolata.

Before he made a move, he kicked off his flip-flops and tugged off his shirt. Wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, he came at me like a freight train, eyes bulging, grinning like a madman. I cowered, turned my back and screamed. He pounced on me, eager hands pawing at my breasts through my blouse, groping, rubbing. Arms and legs wrapped tightly around my body, holding me in full body lock, he bounced his weight up and down, using his entire body weight to haul me downwards.

Stumbling, I fell forward and hit the floor with a thud, the air exploding from my lungs. I wriggled onto my side and Danny mounted my body and lay on top of me. Writhing and thrusting his body against mine, his erection mashed and ground over my upper thigh through our clothes. Grunting and squealing, he bumped and ground, thrashing his cock against my buttocks as though his life depended on it.

My skirt rode up to my waist, exposing the flesh of my thigh and frilly black panties, as he thrust himself against me. Even though my body tingled with sexual delight, it wasn’t enough; I wanted to feel his cock touching my body, some real skin-on-skin action. Reaching down, I gripped the elastic waistband of his shorts and tugged, exclaiming, “Come on, Danny, release the beast.”

Then a loud, booming voice interrupted our frolicking. “What the bloody hell’s going on here?”

Danny and I froze, our heads snapping up in direction of the voice. It was my husband, Danny’s father, Dave.

Danny and I both sprang to our feet.

Dave gasped as his eyes darted between my unbuttoned blouse and the bulge at the front of Danny’s shorts. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked, sounding astonished, a look of sheer disbelief on his face. Then, pointing a finger at his Danny, he said, “Why has he got a stiffy?”

Danny’s face ignited in a fierce red blush before he scampered from the room and out into the kitchen.

I saw this as an opportunity to take back the moral high ground. “You arse! You’ve gone and embarrassed the poor boy now. So what if he’s got a stiffy. There’s no need to shout it from the rooftops, is there?”

“B-b-but,” Dave stuttered, “you were at it on the floor, the pair of you, rolling around, squealing and grunting like a couple of stuck pigs, enjoying every minute of it.”

I laughed nervously. “He’s your sixteen-year-old son, Dave. Don’t be so disgusting and get your mind out the gutter before you start throwing around ridiculous accusations and make a complete fool of yourself.”

His mouth moved but no words came out. Then he caught his breath. “He was grinding himself against you. Your top was undone and he had a raging hard-on. I saw it with my own eyes. A-a-and you said ‘release the beast’. What did that mean?”

I gulped and stammered, “We were having a wrestle,” then, laughing nervously, I added, “And ‘release the beast’ is a term used in wrestling. If you were not such a boring old fuddy-duddy and watched WWE occasionally, you would know that.”

“Don’t give me that old poppycock! You never watch wrestling. And what about the erection tenting the front of his shorts? Explain that.”

Hiding behind an angry façade, I snapped. “He’s a sixteen-year-old boy, for heaven's sake. Teenage boys’ todgers are up and down like a yo-yo. You should know that; you were a teenager once. Just because he had an erection, it doesn’t mean to say that I was the cause of it.”

He rubbed his temples with his fingers and sighed with exasperation. “I dread to think what I would have walked in on if I’d arrived home two minutes later."

Yes, I suspect you would have seen your wife’s mouth crammed full with your son’s genitalia and her pinkie finger inserted in his arse, I thought.

That thought sent a jolt of orgasmic pleasure tearing through me like an electric shock. My mind was once again consumed by my desire to suck on Danny’s sixteen-year-old chipolata, ravish his taut body, rub my tits and pussy all over his face. I was now more determined than ever; I was going to have a ruddy good gobble on Danny’s party sausage and nobody – and I mean nobody – was going to stop me.

I marched through into the kitchen where Danny was sat listening to his iPod. “Come on, young man,” I said, gripping his arm and jerking him to his feet. “We’re going out.”

I dragged him outside wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. Stunned, the look of fear and confusion was evident on his face as I ushered him into the passenger seat of my car. He still had his iPod in his ears when he peered up at me and said, “Where are we going?”

My husband, Dave stood in the house doorway, lip quivering. “Where are you going?”

“Out for dinner!”

“C-c-c-can I come?” he stammered.

“Bugger off,” I hollered, getting in the car and slamming the door closed.

Firing up the car engine, I pulled out onto the main road, screeching the tyres as I floored it. I glanced across at Danny sitting in the passenger seat, his eyes closed, earphones in his ears, bobbing his head rhythmically to beat of his music. Peering down, I was disappointed to see that the bulge in his shorts had deflated. My mouth watered at the thought of his sixteen-year-old weenie, lying dormant beneath those shorts, flaccid yet yearning to be released and ogled and fiddled and sucked.

Pulling up at a set of traffic lights, my eyes darted frantically around the car until I found a bottle of water. I picked it up, unscrewed the lid and poured it over Danny’s lap. He bolted upright, squealing with shock as I drenched his groin.

“Oh, bother!” I exclaimed. “I’m ever so sorry, Danny. You’re soaking wet now. You’d best remove your shorts and underwear so I can dry you off.”

He stared at me, perplexed. “But, I’ll be completely naked. You’ll see my plonker.”

“Yes, now you’re getting the idea. Now, come along. Let’s not make a fuss. I promised we would have fun today and I intend to stick to my word.”

Blushing, Danny reluctantly tugged his shorts and underwear down to his ankles, all the while cupping his genitals in his hand to hide them from my view. Once they were at his feet, I reached down, snatched them up and chucked both garments out the open car window, just as lights turned green.

Danny, now completely naked, hiding his modesty with his hands, yelped and glared at me in sheer disbelief. “Please tell me you didn’t just throw my clothes out the window!” he gasped, his voice quavering.

I put my foot down and picked up speed. “Yes, we won’t be needing those. Now you lie back and relax and I’ll find us a nice quiet place to park up,” I said as I pressed the switch to recline the passenger seat as far back as it would go. Once the seat was fully reclined and Danny was flat on his back, I demanded, “Hands behind your head and feet wide apart and resting on the dashboard, please. I can’t suck it if I can’t see it, can I?”

I glanced across at Danny’s face to gauge his reaction. His expression of dismay changed to a dirty grin. “You’re going to suck on my tonker?” he breathed in astonishment, barely able to keep the excitement out of his voice. Then tentatively Danny removed his hands from his genitals.

“Attaboy.” Peering down at Danny’s penis, I observed the flaccid organ with delight. He was sat with his legs closed, so his testicles rested upon the crevice of his thighs, looking like two ripe plums. His cock, small yet plump and slightly engorged, lay on his scrotum, nesting snugly between his testicles. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

I pulled in and parked under a tree in a desolate car park. Observing my surroundings, I was pleased to see the place was deserted, so I switched off the engine and reached out a hand and pinched Danny’s pecker between thumb and forefinger. Squeezing the head firmly, I retracted the foreskin, fully exposing the head, making Danny gasp and quiver.

Then I felt his penis respond with a mighty throb and gentle swelling. I stroked the tip, grazing a finger over the sensitive head, coaxing the tumescent organ to a full erection. It was as stiff as a broom handle and pointing straight up in the air in no time at all. It looked delicious, like a juicy chipolata, so I dipped my head to his lap and sucked him to the back of my throat. He gasped and his body jerked and jolted violently as encased his manhood, sliding my lips all the way down to his balls. I held it captive in the warmth of my mouth, feeling it pulse and twitch with excitement.

It tasted amazing and felt wonderful. The skin was velvety soft on the outside, yet the core was as hard as steel. I swirled my tongue around the exposed head, wetting it, lubricating it. My lips manipulated the foreskin, gliding it up and down the shaft, on and off the soft head, salvia giving sufficient lubrication and allowing the foreskin to move back and forth with ease, stimulating the delicate flesh. Amid sucking and slurping the sixteen-year-old salami, my eyes locked on to the testicles dangling between his spread legs. I snaked my forefinger under the scrotum sac, scooped up his balls with my finger, and sucked them past my lips, cramming my mouth full of both cock and bollocks.

Danny sighed with delight, lay back and relaxed in his seat, spread his legs wide and rested his feet on the dashboard. My hand slipped up my skirt, finding my sopping wetness, tricking with arousal, yearning to be rubbed. I put my hand to work on my dripping-wet cunt and sucked Danny like my life depended on it.

My hand played frantically over my pussy, teasing, probing, caressing. The taste of Danny’s sweaty balls nudged me over the edge, and I came apart at the seams....