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BoyDream_1.txt
A Boy's Dream Come True - Chapter 1
mF
Slow, Cons, Rom, Pett, Pedo, Oral
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What is a ten year old supposed to do when he is little more than an
unwanted dweeb and nobody is around to play with on the first day of
summer? The only person willing to be a friend was somebody that the
fifth grade boy hadn't expected nor could have imagined, the mother of a
schoolmate that also had a strong need for a friend at a weak moment. I
never could have imagined the glories I would experience that first
week, growing from a naive and innocent little boy into an experienced
and hungry pre-adult, sexually insatiable and lacking the intelligence
to understand how dangerous this really could have been.
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You can say what you want about your childhood, but mine was nothing to
genuinely take note of. Consider what kind of excitement and fun a
myopic, timid and undersized ten year old could enjoy, without any
social graces or the ability to carry on a decent enough conversation
with his very few friends or worse, the opposite sex.
GIRLS!
They were a completely different species back then, prone to react
without provocation and go running off toward the nearest adult should a
young boy commit the least offensive crime. Typically, the only one 'I'
could have been accused of was staring mindlessly if a pair of pretty
knees that belonged to a pretty girl relaxed enough to part and
permitted me to look up her short dress. The female owner's
carelessness would then possibly reveal the least little sample of
delicate white, pastel blue or pink fabric underneath, my 'coke-bottle'
eyes locked onto a stirring image that kept my mouth and eyes open and
face unmoving.
Since I didn't have any redeeming skills whatsoever, couldn't play
sports, couldn't speak with any confidence at all, and was more
interested in drawing cool pictures of cars or imaginary space ships
than improving my standing with the opposite sex, most of the time I
spent my time quietly alone.
The only boy within twenty blocks of my house that seemed nice enough to
invite me over after school every once in a while was Billy Masters. He
was two years older than me and at the top of our school age limit.
Next year, he'd be off to junior high where the older and prettier girls
were, and I'd be left to fend for myself with younger and totally
disinterested kids my own age. For some strange reason, he thought my
sketches were really cool and took delight in having me draw something
for him after I listened to what he wanted to see.
For about a month before school ended, he was the only person that felt
I had any significant value, actually providing me with all the drawing
tools necessary to generate dozens of fanciful images. Since his dad
was pretty well connected in the engineering trades, I got a whole
drawer full of technical pencils, ruled pads and all sorts of neat
plastic templates from Billy's dad. For the first time in a VERY long
time, I actually thought I had a dear and welcomed friend.
When school ended, so did my life, or so I thought. Now that all my
supposed 'friends' were able to devise their own schedule, I had little
chance at being within half a mile of anything they did or planned. The
only exception was my older friend Billy, or so I thought. I had no
idea his summer was going to be considered much more enjoyable than
mine, up until my fifth grade class was dismissed for the typical three
month mid-year break.
That special summer I learned I was no longer a little boy, but
providing too much too soon would spoil all the fun of hearing how
miserable I was, for a while. Let's just say that my first few days of
school-free activities weren't nearly as exciting as I had hoped they'd
be. That was evident right after I found myself waking up to a quiet
house and nobody to talk to other than my mom, about to be off to do her
shopping and any other domestic chores.
Talk about a real slap in the face! What I thought might be a welcome
respite from daily abuse in the playground or embarrassment from my
teachers was now a celebration in quiet solitude. I was sure it would
be better than this!
It started off just as I expected, nobody around the neighborhood for me
to talk to or visit, save for my loving mom who would tolerate my
questions and immature interests up until her activities were being
interfered with. When she was home, she'd put up with me just long
enough for me to acquire an interest in some obscure noise beyond the
front door, gently pushing against my back and shoulders so I could go
explore the outside world.
As was typical of my luck, the only thing barely worth thinking about
and watching go by on that first glorious day of summer was a large
yellow diesel powered street sweeping machine, its many brushes and loud
vacuum sound captivating me long enough for my mom to feel satisfied I
might leave her alone for a short while. I watched that mechanical
marvel slowly wend its way down my street toward me, sweeping the
opposite side of the road little more than twenty feet from my intense
interest. It even made a return pass along the same side of our drive
where I was standing, the hulking mechanical beheamoth even closer to
where I stood on the sidewalk from its last pass.
It sedately approached and then slowly passed in a whirlwind of dust and
noise, every dog in the neighborhood barking and yapping at the top of
their lungs. I was the only one the driver of the vehicle saw that took
interest in his activities, a big smile and an even wider wave coming
from his denim-ensconced arm out of the right side window. He seemed
proud to have a single audience member take keen interest in his work, a
studious young lad careful to observe every aspect of the mechanical
monster the man had control of.
Once the machine disappeared down the street leaving an interrupted
streak of wet pavement behind it and the unusual smell of rain off in
the distance, all was quiet and I was again left to my own devices. I
anxiously waited for the talented driver to possibly return and make
certain that our street was adequately cleaned, but alas, all I
witnessed was the postman go from house to house with his large leather
sack full of mail hanging across his shoulder. With nothing from him to
make my day any brighter, I was left all alone, again.
My only recourse was to position myself on my parents' front porch, just
in case something else fascinating might happen by. I remained on the
front porch swing for the rest of the day until my mom called me in to
clean up my room, wash up and then get ready for my dad to arrive from
work so we could all enjoy dinner.
The second day of summer was spent where the first day was, on my
parents' front porch, dreaming of a friend to play with, listlessly
swinging my feet back and forth under me on the wooden swing.
"Carol! Lunch is ready!"
Yeah, that's me. Carol. Carol A. Barkins.
What parent would name their male child Carol? Mine did! They must
have thought it would be fun to witness their myopic son being mocked
and teased at having a girl's name. My only recourse at school was to
try to convince my teachers to use my middle name, or at least the first
two letters of it. Fortunately, Algernon was too difficult for most
kids, so 'Al' was my only other choice, although, few of my teachers
seemed the least interested in allowing me to establish what I wanted to
be called.
Lunch that second day of my glorious summer was spent sitting inside the
house at the kitchen table, being tended to by my doting mother,
clueless and just as inept in the social graces as I was. It seemed
more than genetics were shared between my parents and me.
With lunch completed and my mom off to do some chores away from home, I
was left to my own devices yet again, given free reign to fill my time
as I saw fit. My mom must have known I'd have little opportunity to get
into any real trouble, which is why she let me get onto my undersized
bike and ride off through the neighborhood as she got into her car and
drove away from the house. I tried to keep up with her car for the
first few blocks but didn't have a chance. By the time I realized how
far I'd ridden, I was much closer to my only other friend's house than
mine.
Wanting desperately to find anyone of interest to visit, I wended my way
the last few blocks toward Billy's house, not knowing if he'd be home or
even if he'd welcome me if he was. It took all my courage to ride up to
his parents' driveway, carefully extend the kickstand and leave my bike
sitting in the middle of the concrete pad behind their car and then walk
nervously to their front door.
I was so desperate for company that I finally accumulated whatever
measure of strength I could muster, watched and then heard my knuckles
rap softly at their front door, the sound making me feel as if I was
banging on an old metal trash can with a baseball bat. I waited for
what seemed like hours, someone certain to hear my obnoxious request for
some company and burst through the front door with an even larger bat
than the one I'd mentally used on their door.
The moment the handle began to turn, I wanted to bolt away immediately
like a frightened deer, a sense of guilt filling me with the need to
dash away in fright. It was everything I could do to stand still and
wait for whatever measure of abuse I was about to receive after the
front door unlatched and swung completely open.
Instead of Billy or his dad answering the door and standing just inside,
it was Billy's very pretty mom. The moment I looked into her eyes,
every nerve in my body started to tingle, my ambition to scream or run
so strong, I started to shake.
I'd never seen her dressed so casually, wearing a pair of cutoff
bluejeans that were incredibly short and also one of her favorite white
cotton workshirts, a full buttoned-down men's shirt that her husband got
paint on once and told her to keep for working around the house. The
fact that she'd tied the bottom portion of the shirt in a snug knot just
below her boobies and obviously forgot to fasten any of the buttons
directly above amplified the cleavage she was naturally endowed with. I
could actually see a large measure of her ample beauty, even though I
was a lot shorter than she was and had to look up to admire her
loveliness.
"Well, hi Carol! How are you Sweetie?"
Her smile and the look in her piercing eyes drilled right down into my
spine, a sense of instinctive hunger enveloping me like none I'd ever
felt before. She'd seen me a number of times around their house, but
she'd never stared and smiled at me like she was doing right then. I
got the distinct impression that my pants had mysteriously become undone
and were draped around my feet, a deepening blush filling my face to the
point of making my cheeks feel hot.
Whatever impression I'd made on her in those few seconds must have
stirred something in her soul, because I could feel her strong gaze
burrowing deep into my body, ripping my tender heart out as if it were
made of tissue paper. I'd have done anything for her at that moment if
she'd asked, my logic and reasoning ability swept away from my mind like
a leaf in an Autumn storm.
Something about the way I had looked inside her slightly parted blouse
during those first few seconds must not have been considered evil or
disgusting, my intense scrutiny of her exposed skin illustrating the
depth of my admiration for a lady that looked better than any sexy
centerfold. It struck the lovely young mother deep into her body, her
perception regarding what men and boys loved to look at still quite
honed. In spite of the significant difference in our ages and the fact
that I wasn't old enough yet to know what to do with a naked lady if
given the opportunity to look at or touch one, she seemed intrigued with
my strong interest in what was hiding just inside her top.
She knew that I was looking at her stunning form and naive mind
hopelessly wishing I could give her a kiss (even though I had NO sexual
experience), my boyish innocence aching to see more of what was barely
hidden within the snug depths of her informally secured blouse. Even
though I was barely old enough to tie my own shoes, I had a natural need
to look at and given adequate provocation, possibly even touch what she
was nonchalantly displaying beyond the edges and still had tucked just
safely behind a single layer of comfortable fabric.
What I wasn't aware of was how vulnerable Missus Masters was at this
moment, her solitary activities less than thirty minutes before within
the safety of her home being conducted in the quiet of her master
bathroom. Being alone wasn't necessarily the problem for the sexy young
mother at this moment. Being alone and in an 'excited' state was!
She wasn't really old enough to have lost her inner drive to be admired
and needed, her husband unfortunately having lost interest in such a
lovely specimen of sexy female development because of an illness that
rendered him incapable of satisfying her ongoing female hunger.
Missus Masters' at twenty seven may have been considered quite young to
have an eleven year old son, but certainly wasn't considered provocative
or looked down upon by her many friends and neighbors. Her parents had
surrendered control of their sixteen year old little girl to a man
twelve years older than her, not because of some horrible debt her
father had to repay, but because the older man Angela fell for genuinely
loved the little thing.
--------------------------------
Their relationship was perfectly decent and in accordance with the moral
standards of the day, most adults accepting the interest a man twelve
years senior the teen's age had for the lovely and very sweet girl.
Back then, it wasn't considered immoral or perverse for a man to be
fascinated by and fall deeply in love with a young girl of sixteen.
Times were very different way back then.
Their wedding was attended by lots of folks from all around the area, in
addition to all of the people directly and indirectly connected to the
bride and groom. There were even a few older women still talking about
how lovely Angela looked in a wedding dress, her appearance enough to
stir many a man's heart to pump faster the moment they saw her.
Angela gave birth to their first son just before she turned seventeen, a
few folks that knew the recently married couple snickering behind cupped
hands that the lucky husband had spent quite a bit of time with the
nubile sixteen year old that first night of their wedded bliss. So, at
the very tender age of sixteen, Angela became a loving and beautiful
mother, her healthy baby boy tucked securely under a soft blue blanket
and proud husband smiling as he watched his young wife tending to what
he had created.
Things went well for both Angela and her mature husband for a few years,
up until he was struck down by a disease that rendered him impotent, the
only product of their joining up to that point only four years old when
Angela's older husband spent three weeks in the local hospital. He
finally came home, but was a changed man, weak, missing the one thing
that made his original interest in Angela now a thing of the past.
Twenty and desirous of more children after her husband came home, Angela
felt cheated and did everything she could to encourage her handsome and
formerly virile husband to recover as quickly as possible.
Unfortunately, nothing could be done for the man, his abilities as
husband no longer a possibility in bed and between their sheets.
From that point on, it was up to Angela to tend to her own needs behind
the security of a locked bathroom door when her baby son was taking a
nap and her husband was off at work. She spent a few minutes almost
every day after that horrible illness struck her man down, quietly
trying to satisfy her own intense need to feel what she'd enjoyed those
first few weeks of marriage. But alas, there was very little available
for women back then other than a nervous hand extending a tender and
trembling finger into places that were best left hidden from view.
Angela had to contend with her own source of personal entertainment just
as it was, because she knew that coaxing a friendly male neighbor or
even a distant friend to visit during the day would cause a scandal in
little more than a day. In her desperation, she'd consider all sorts of
possible scenarios to relieve the intense hunger that seemed to fill her
mind and her body with a buzzing sensation that just wouldn't go away.
The poor young woman tolerated her 'disease' with the grace of a saint,
unable to do anything about her needs and unwilling to jeopardize her
marriage just to feel good for a few minutes.
As her handsome young son began to grow, she acknowledged the
possibility that he might be able to help his lovely mommy feel better,
but she conceded to intense guilt and accepted that her compulsion was
to go unsated for the rest of her life.
Now twenty seven and the fact that her son was growing up very quickly
at twelve also prevented her from encouraging the older boy from
spending any private time with her like he did when he was but an
infant, because of the stigma it would leave in his mind regarding being
affectionate with his own mommy.
--------------------------------
So there she was, holding their front door open as a nervous and
bespeckled lad of ten stood gawking at her cleavage, her insides
rumbling around at the possibility that this curious and obviously
interested little boy might be able to finally satisfy that need she'd
kept bottled up for years. Before I could answer the question she had
asked, her mind went flying with all sorts of wicked ideas, a heightened
electric sensation billowing up inside her taut and attractive body as
if a thousand cats were delicately licking her between her thighs.
For the first time in a very long time, Angela's body began to recall
the perception of an intense stirring that started between her thighs
and radiated upward toward her nipples as if she had accidently leaned
too close to the TV. It was such a welcome rustling that her mind was
awash with permitting this young lad whatever adventure his myopic gaze,
short fingers and hungry lips might attempt.
Nothing about my standing at their front door and admiring the inside of
her blouse with piqued interest seemed the least bit provocative to
Angela, since she knew growing young ten year olds had a natural
compulsion to look within or underneath the confines of a young girl's
or even a young mother's clothing. Knowing she could indulge my
curiosity and attempt to satisfy her own wanton hunger without any
significant repercussions, gave her the mental latitude to grant this
horny young lad a quick trip down the long road of sexual discovery that
would stay with me for the rest of my life.
All I could do was stare longingly up into her sexy gaze and steal
glances at her lips and boobies for the next few seconds, my mouth
unable to move for what seemed like weeks. In fact, it only took about
three seconds before I began to utter some words that she might
recognize.
"Hi Missus Masters. I'm okay, I guess. Is Billy home?"
She seemed to know what kind of reaction she'd get the moment she'd
respond, because she stepped forward, leaned down slightly and put her
hands on her knees, smiled right into my face and prepared to softly
tell me what I truly didn't want to hear. For the briefest of moments,
I stole a hard glance down the front of her blouse and saw two full
globes of plump wonder that made me think I was about to get into a
whole world of trouble, the vista before my gaze making me think she
wanted me to see those two perfect pink melons that needed to be
admired, possibly touched, and maybe even sucked on.
I could have stared down into the widely parted vertical seams of her
blouse for hours, the incredible view of her full and ample bosoms
stirring a whole new set of ideas in a young and immature mind that had
never before been able to contemplate such glory. In spite of my desire
to keep looking at her natural gifts, I knew I needed to refrain from
continuing this hormonal recreational activity. My eyes were lifted
even before her first words were uttered.
"Oh, I'm sorry Sweetie. Billy went with his daddy camping and won't be
back for the next six weeks. I'm sorry Sugar."
It took a few seconds for the words to rumble around inside my head long
enough for me to understand that my one and only friend wasn't home, and
wouldn't be around for the next few weeks to boot. The instant I
understood the depth of her statement, I felt I'd lost any chance at
enjoying the first half of my summer, the last vestige of friendship
tossed away like so much wastepaper. Who would I be able to play with
or talk to now? I felt incredibly lost.
Billy's mom saw my expression drop and my eyes behind my glasses fill
with tears, the only other human being that considered me even slightly
worthwhile gone for more than a whole month. In my hormonally
stimulated and highly emotional state, it wasn't long before my body
ached with needs that apparently were to be denied. The moment the
first salty spray escaped the outside of my left eye and rolled down my
cheek, she squat down directly in front of me and put her right hand on
my left shoulder.
"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart. Don't you have anyone to play with?"
All I could do was shake my head as the tears started to flow. That's
when I made the mistake of looking down toward my hands, my view
immediately drawn toward the inside of her blouse yet again. The image
of her breasts filling the confines of her loosely fitted top kept my
fascination far longer than it should have, my tears blocking my view
only part of the time I was standing right in front of her.
Missus Masters must have noticed where I was looking, because she seemed
to smile right at me with an expression of gratitude and intense
appreciation. She seemed more pleased with my intense stare down her
top more than she was upset, a growing young lad taking intensely hard
views inside the opening of her top far longer than any mature person
may.
She also never prevented me from admiring what she'd been given during
puberty, her stance directly in front of me far too welcome an
invitation to keep right on looking. She knew I was looking at her
titties, even though she'd never openly encourage anyone to do such a
vulgar or impertinent deed when others were around to see what I could.
Since I was only a young and very curious boy of ten, she knew I
couldn't act on my desire to do anything more than visually plunder her
assets.
My view of her loveliness didn't last quite as long as I had desired,
but there was no need for me to be in trouble so soon during the summer,
so I tried my best to look away. The only thing I was able to do was to
close my eyes and begin weeping, sorry for my pitiful existence and
wondering if I had any redeeming value at all. Up to this point, nobody
could have convinced me otherwise.
These were genuine tears of despair, my self worth now so damaged that I
didn't even have the good sense to run away and bawl like a baby in
private. Missus Masters seemed to grasp just how despondent I truly was
and inwardly surrendered to both of our emotional needs for mutual
companionship. She needed to wait for the right moment before springing
her trap, my actions up to this moment little more than an innocent and
perfectly predictable glance at something that always produced the same
reaction in men, no matter their age.
For the next ten seconds, the only thing I could do was feel horribly
dejected, unwanted and unappreciated for any of my skills or abilities
by another human being as I wept at their front door. I'm not sure when
it happened, but some time during my self abasement, Billy's mom knelt
down right in front of me, tugged me into her comfortable form and
wrapped her arms around me, holding me much tighter than my mom ever
did.
I didn't have a clue about where I was at that time and spent the better
half of the next minute quietly sobbing and feeling worthless. Once I
became aware of my location and my eyes permitted a first glance of my
new surroundings through tear filled eyes, two things were immediately
apparent from this unusual position.
One, a kind but relatively unknown mother was snugly rocking me back and
forth against her body, and two, my face was pressed firmly into her
ample bosom, my glasses twisted on my face and part of my nose pressing
into her soft skin. Without any real knowledge of my actions, both of
my hands were wrapped as far around her body as I could reach, hanging
on as if her very existence confirmed my own as the tips of my fingers
gently caressed her soft form. Then comforting words filled my ears
like sugar on a bowlful of cereal.
"Oh, Honey. I'm so sorry nobody wants to be your friend. I know what
it's like to be lonely and unappreciated. I wish there was something I
could do to find you a nice friend so you could visit with them and have
some fun. Maybe if I'm lucky, 'I' can be your new best friend, even if
for just a little while this afternoon."
" okay "
That's all the influence she needed before she decided to act, my
willingness to submit to just about anything she'd be daring enough to
try, so long as I wasn't in pain or reeled backward in fear. My lovely
young hostess knew that she might be able to satisfy both of our desires
within the confines of her home, since nobody was around to interrupt
us.
The next thing I remember, Billy's mom had lifted me slightly and held
me tightly to her body, carried me inside, both of us coming to rest on
their comfy couch. Now, instead of holding me against her body from a
squatting position, she nestled me into her lap in a tight hug as if I
were a baby, my bum in her lap and face pressed directly against the
softest and warmest pillow I could have imagined, her plump and
incredibly soft left titty.
For the first time in a very long time, her body began to tingle with a
familiar but very infrequently appreciated sensation, small bursts of
electricity radiating out from the tips of her nipples and travelling
all the way to the hot depths of her panties. She used to feel this way
a long time ago, but neither of the men in her life was able to provide
her what she needed to experience, this sort of comforting sensation all
too infrequent, and many times with her own fingers, way too brief.
It may have been an innocent act of consolation and comfort at first,
but with more of her body feeling the effects of something that she'd
craved for years, she began to devise any excuse she could to rediscover
what she thought was long lost.
Missus Masters had genuinely taken pity on me for my lack of friends
while I was standing at their front door, my ordinary and almost homely
appearance, petite and unmanly ten year old body, nerdy glasses over my
eyes and a buzz haircut that proved my dad was either clueless, or chose
not to allow me to grow my hair. She felt deeply sorry for me in my
current state, a ten year old boy that needed to belong, to have a
friend, to be able to innocently love someone and be loved by another
that cared deeply for me.
The longer I was with her and was willing to sneak brief peeks inside
her blouse, the less reluctance she had to act on her need for a special
'friend' that might be willing to help her as much as she could help me.
More of her plan slowly began to take shape as time ticked by, a set of
queer coincidences drawing the two of us together at just the right
moment, my need for someone to hang around, talk to and play with, and
her need to satisfy something that only a curious and horny young boy
might be willing to try.
I seemed the perfect candidate for her requirements, old enough to know
what was tucked within the confines of her top, young enough not to
produce any 'problems' if her plans could be developed to fruition,
innocent enough to be willing to try something that might be considered
incredibly immoral, and horny enough to allow my eyes and maybe even my
hands to wander into normally prohibited locations.
Her arms gently rocked me back and forth in an unusually friendly
manner, as if to calm my troubled nerves and coax me to a gentle
slumber. Thankfully, only part of my face came into contact with
something I'd never been able to appreciate before this moment, because
if I'd been able to nuzzle my nose between her boobs, I might have
embarrassed myself and my gracious hostess by attempting to repeat
something that I had done when I was just a baby boy.
With half my face pressed against her plump breast and Missus Masters
softly humming a soothing lullaby to me, I fell asleep on her lap in no
time. Thankfully, I wasn't aware of what happened less than five
minutes after I fell asleep. And yet, had I been awake to appreciate
what my friend's affectionate mother wanted to do, I would have
celebrated to all creation that I might finally be accepted for someone
that had more to offer than a few pencil sketches and little else.
The longer Missus Masters rocked and soothed my disquieted spirit in her
grasp, the more intense her excitement grew, an increasing measure of
restlessness building in her body that she'd never quite felt before,
save for the first time she was with a boy a few years older than her
and much more curious about her body than anyone had ever been. The
highly aroused young mother kept checking for my attentiveness
constantly, a need for absolutely certainty that I was asleep before she
acted on a newly stimulated sense of naughtiness that filled her soul to
overflowing.
It was only after she began to softly speak into my muffled ear that her
courage rose to a height never before achieved, a new sense of hunger
pervading her essence that spilled forth beyond any scope of restraint
than she might have ever known before. An almost mindless string of
utterances and expressions ushered forth from her previously chaste lips
that took even her by surprise, her face filled to bursting with heat
from the blood coursing wildly through her head.
"My handsome little boy is so lonely and afraid, poor child, his mind
filled with images of a type that he doesn't yet understand. All he
wants is to be touched and held, for a caring and gentle person to show
him what love and tenderness means, for his body to have more than just
a mere sample of what his eyes have already hungered for. His body
might have a natural inclination and curiosity for a pretty girl's
tender flesh, nothing more provocative than his instinctive need for his
hands, fingers, lips and tongue to feel more than his young eyes have
already captured. If there was just someone that could help this
handsome little boy, someone that could share her body with a precious,
inquisitive and truly innocent growing young man so he didn't have to
continue to suffer through what all other boys only dream about."
Her monologue poured out of her quivering lips for untold minutes, her
right hand moving away from the underside of my knees and upward toward
her blouse. Now that I was unable to react to anything that she did or
said, Missus Masters delicately loosened the knot that was keeping her
blouse securely closed, watching my face for any movement, her keen
perception of my dozing state urging her to act quite boldly and her
almost practiced speech lulling me into a deeper and more relaxed state
of sleep.
Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest as she used the fingers on
her right hand to untie the fabric bond that had been maintaining her
dignity and honor, her husband's old shirt being pulled open for someone
that might never have experienced this moment had I been awake. She
knew what she was thinking and about to do could get her into immense
trouble, but couldn't resist the opportunity to help a lonely and
growing younger boy to experience something that he'd obviously been
longing for but wasn't yet brave enough to inquire about. Even if I
wasn't awake to appreciate it, she'd relish a brief sample of something
that she'd been denied for many years.
Watching my face with an intense stare and whispering directly over my
forehead, the right half of her blouse was slowly teased open, her right
breast carefully permitted to sample the warm air that was directly in
front of my sleeping eyes. Without my being awake to appreciate what
she was bravely doing for me, a greater portion of her lovely anatomy
was leisurely being exposed until finally, she drew the edge of her top
beyond the far side of her full mound.
It was only after her full bosom was completely exposed that Missus
Masters felt a sense of lewd accomplishment, her body bursting with
electricity and her posture straightening slightly. She was actually
sitting half exposed directly in front of a little boy that had openly
been staring into her blouse, the curious lad anxious to see her
glorious tits but unable and unwilling to express that desire. This
achievement spurred her on to try yet more, her face tilted down just
enough to look toward my eyes, hoping beyond hope that I might be awake
and able to take in this exquisite display.
She kept softly murmuring, more to herself than to me, keeping a
deliberate pace as she studied my face for every movement and gesture.
Her nipples ached and pulsed with untold quantities of blood and
hormones, her body erupting in more mature cravings than she had ever
remembered. But, the plateau she'd reached suddenly felt insufficient,
a greater portion of this new and wicked awareness desperately desired
so she could have what she'd longed for since she was in her husbands
arms, naked and able to surrender her body and soul to him for hours at
a time.
With an almost brazen lust for me to stir so I could see what she was
doing, Missus Masters began to tenderly encircle her right nipple with
the tips of her index and middle fingers, the firm point growing
increasingly hot and sensitive as each orbit around the highly receptive
nub was completed. For the next ten minutes, the twenty seven year old
young mother fondled and tickled her own nipple as if I were doing it
for her, the feel of living flesh so satisfying she wordlessly beseeched
me to come to her aide.
She eventually grew brave enough to pull the left side of her blouse out
from between her soft globe and my face, the slow and torturous progress
making her actions seem horribly exciting. Without my awareness, she
shifted her position over me and my head slightly back so her left
nipple rubbed up against my lips, openly encouraging me to open my mouth
slightly so I could suckle at her breast.
She ached to feel that wonderful maternal phenomenon again, her infant
son not quite as interested in breast feeding when he was hungry as she
had hoped, and her husband no longer 'in the mood' to help her feel as
good as she did right after her first born was delivered. Now, the only
person in the world that seemed available to assist in her mature female
needs was a little boy of ten.
Her left nipple rested against my lips for the longest time, the fingers
on her right hand rubbing, squeezing and rolling her right nipple around
in lewd sexual passion, the real possibility that I might wake up at any
moment and reel backward away from a wicked woman doing nasty things
with her own body not stopping her. Fortunately, with my lips pressing
against her left nipple and her other breast being repeatedly massaged
and fondled, she was able to generate yet another long absent orgasm,
her hips and thighs bucking and quivering for almost ten minutes while I
lay motionless on her lap.
In my inattentive state, I had granted my lovely young hostess something
what she'd needed for so long, Missus Masters secretly developed a plan
to give me whatever sex education I wanted, including the ultimate in
reproductive skills, should I accept.
Somewhere between her initial invitation for me to encompass her nipple
and the conclusion of her most satisfying cum in years, my tongue
extended from between my lips in a nervous requirement to alleviate the
tickle against my mouth, her teet immediately accepting the sensation of
another person's lingual desires without having to ask for it.
Missus Masters immediately flinched and sucked in a deep lungful of air,
the sensation of my wet tongue filling her body with an even more
intense level of energy. This was just the impetus she needed to press
her nipple harder against my mouth and tease the rigid point back and
forth against my lips as if to stir a baby to feed, her body trembling
out of lust more than fear as her aching nubbin was slowly granted
access beyond my lips.
Before she was completely aware of her success, I was instinctively
suckling on her hot nipple, the welcome sensation of motherhood and the
bawdy feeling of lust the perfect mixture for this lonely and sexually
excited young mother. The perception of my lips encircling my new
natural pacifier raised Missus Masters to a whole new level of sexual
gratification, my having provided what she'd needed for so very long
making me an invaluable ally in her husband's and son's absence.
The horny but reserved woman almost let out a loud shriek of joy at this
delightful experience, accepting the sensation of her mature female body
being appreciated for all that she was worth. She was finally being
granted an expression of natural pleasure that all mothers savor, even
if only briefly and most times, never spoken of. Now, she felt the same
way she did many years ago, when Billy was mindlessly receiving
nourishment, if for only a brief period of his infancy.
My lips and tongue acted as they had when my mom had nursed me when 'I'
was an infant, a strong series of sucks and licks the perfect salve for
Missus Masters to writhe and flinch to. I was such an active
participant in my sleepy manipulations, that my hostess was lost to a
continuous array of whole-body orgasms, the eager ministrations of my
wet tongue along her incredibly sensitive teet making Missus Masters
convulse wildly for more than half an hour.
It was almost too much for her, but not more than she would accept.
Even in my resting sexual education, I did more for this lonely woman
than if I'd openly tugged her blouse apart and played with her breasts
hungrily, my eyes able to cherish the moment in the full light of day.
The combination of my visual appreciation of her form earlier and my
innocent actions while I was sleeping seemed the perfect method to
invite more, should I be bold enough to accept what she'd surely offer.
As the tingling between her legs began to subside, she knew she needed
more, so her right hand slowly drifted away from her naked breast, its
new destination considered for a few seconds before her muscles began to
stir. It took no more than ten or fifteen seconds before her slim and
manicured fingers were lightly teasing back and forth across the front
of her aching clitty, still safely hidden behind panties and shorts. My
sleep prevented me from seeing something that I could only have
imagined, had I stolen a dirty magazine from behind the counter at the
five and dime.
For the next few minutes, Missus Masters lightly caressed herself, a
brief increase in the pleasant impressions, but still not enough.
That's when her fingers acted as if they had a mind of their own, her
digits searching for and then locating the snap that held her shorts
closed. This was a whole new reality for her, the brazen desire to do
yet more with her own body in front of a little boy that given the
opportunity, might fly away screaming to his parents and unable to
comprehend the depth of this wonderful sexual gift.
The room and world around her was completely without merit, the only
important aspect of her life at the moment was unfastening the snap,
tugging the zipper to its lowest point and then working her shorts
completely off while I slept on her lap. Once her denim shorts were
drawn away from her feet and laid carefully to her right, she removed
her top as well, sitting on her couch wearing nothing more than her
panties.
Her fingers repeated their dance on her pantied quim, that wonderful
feeling of sexual pleasure returning after no more than half a minute,
that lovely orgasm pervading every measure of her body and escaping far
too quickly. Her cum was nice, but still not enough, her passions
alight and her needs far from being met. In spite of what she was about
to do, she had no reluctance to refrain from finishing what she'd
started a few minutes before.
Missus Masters' chest was heaving and her heart racing as she slipped
her right thumb inside the waistband elastic of her panties along her
right hip, the springy material fighting to remain where they'd been
since she'd installed them before I had arrived at her front door. It
took quite a bit of work to remove the last vestige of decency she had,
her nervousness, fear and reluctance to do something that she knew would
get her into tremendous trouble, should anyone find out encouraging her
to stop this before she got out of hand.
Without the fanfare or the boundless guilt she anticipated might
interrupt her actions, her panties were completely removed and set upon
the other clothes resting quietly to her right, her only witness the
clock on the wall and her own reflection in the unused TV screen. For
the first time in her life, Missus Masters was sitting completely naked
with a human male that wasn't directly related to her through birth or
marriage.
This sexual drama now had no bounds, her desire to feel and be felt by a
hand and fingers that had never known such tender flesh before. With
measured progress, she drew my right hand out of my lap and tucked it
between her supple thighs, working my small appendage up against her
naked and recently shaved pubis. It took her little more than a few
gentle urgings to tease a small middle finger away from its neighbors
and between her wet and hot labia over her clitoris, the sting of lust
surging through her body as if she'd rammed a sharp needle between her
legs.
Her next cum was a truly celebrated affair, my fingers and hand used to
stimulate this talented and horny woman into a continuous orgasm that
was the pinnacle of sexual arousal. She'd finally obtained absolute
rapture, her body stuttering and convulsing involuntarily for minute
after memorable minute, my wet fingers lifted away from her slickened
cunny and straight into her mouth only after she was truly satisfied.
To add to her hedonistic display, she granted me a digital blowjob,
sucking her juices from my fingers and licking them almost clean and dry
without a single word or whimper from me.
For the first time in untold days, Missus Masters was finally satisfied.
The first image I witnessed after waking up was Billy's mom, wearing a
towel around her head and another one around her body. Apparently, she
had just finished having a bath and I was laying on her bed, lazily
taking in the view of anything that might happen to be uncovered should
she be careless enough.
With no genuine awareness of just how fortunate I was to witness the
scenery, I had an opportunity to stare up under her towel half a dozen
times as she busied herself, her bright white panties the most beautiful
sample of female loveliness I'd ever seen. The way she'd wrapped her
towel around her body, under her arms and over the fullness of her
boobs, the bottom edge of the towel scarcely contained the extents of
her underwear when she was standing upright, and did nothing to hide her
modesty when she bent forward even slightly. Of course, I said nothing
about the panorama and took it all in.
She must not have been aware of my awakened state or was extremely
comfortable around me, because without any warning, she tugged her
towels off and stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair
and softly humming a tune she'd heard on the radio that must have been
popular, wearing nothing but her underpants. It was the perfect
stimulus for me to wake up and take notice, the stirring but comforting
sound of her voice drilling into me all the way down to my heart.
For the longest time, I got to openly stare at her full titties,
jiggling and bouncing with each of her movements, her nipples very
prominent and centered on two bright pink circular patches that acted as
natural alignment targets for my strong gaze. For the first time in my
young life, I was actually looking right at an almost naked mature
woman, the only clothes she was wearing were her pretty white panties.
Then something happened that I wasn't expecting.
Billy's mom glanced in my direction and must have seen me looking at
her, but she didn't react as I had suspected. In fact, she smiled and
kept looking right at me as she kept brushing her hair, my eyes not
directly meeting hers because of something else in my view.
"Well, 'HI' there, Honey. Did you have a good nap?"
As my eyes continued to remain locked onto her breasts, she set her
brush down on the counter, turned toward me and walked straight to where
I lay on the bed, the woman not covering ANY of her topless beauty.
"I felt so bad for you that I just couldn't turn you away when you
needed a friend. I hope you're not embarrased about me bringing you
inside my bedroom, Sugar, but after you fell asleep on my lap at the
couch, I thought it would be best if I lay you down on my bed for a
little while so I could keep an eye on you while I took a bath. Are you
feeling better now, Carol?"
She sat down on the bed next to me and worked her hands under my body,
lifting me slightly and pulling me into her almost completely naked
form. After removing my glasses, she pulled my face into her chest as
if she were my very own loving mommy, her newest and very anxious ten
year old baby boy enjoying the ample softness of her full breasts. Now
that I was right next to her plump elegance, I didn't need my spectacles
to see her boobies anyway, so didn't put up a fuss when she set my
eyepiece to the bed along her left leg.
Rather than be reluctant about seeing and being forced to press my nose
and face into her boobies, I completely relaxed and nuzzled my mouth as
close to her nipple as I dared. A long distant memory from my babyhood
coaxed me to center my mouth right over her tender and apparently very
anxious appendage, but my awareness of what might happen if she didn't
approve kept me from acting on my instincts. If only I had known what
she did before, while I lay on her lap on the couch and she encouraged
my lips to part with the tip of her aching left nipple, I might have
accepted my fate.
Missus Masters knew the instant I gently pressed into her breast that I
was following the plan that she secretly had developed, my need for
company, friendship and sexual discovery urging me to try a little more
each time she granted me some latitude. Once I pushed my nose and mouth
harder into her titty, she felt much more comfortable about the next
phase of her quickly developed and incredibly wicked scheme.
"When 'I' was a little girl, I didn't have many friends either and spent
quite a bit of time all by myself, lonely and afraid. I remember what
it was like to grow up not knowing who to talk to and how I could spend
my summers having fun, so today I couldn't resist and had to bring you
back here with me for a little while. I didn't think you'd mind all
THAT much if I wanted to be your newest best friend."
MIND? ME? Not at this moment!
Her soft conversation continued as she began to rock me in her arms, her
naked breast pressing against my face as she hummed a gentle lullaby.
My left hand went under her bare left knee and the other slightly under
my right hip, resting between her legs little more than an inch from her
panties. It wasn't intentional, but now that I could feel the warmth of
her body and Missus Masters didn't seem all that upset with me for
touching her, I allowed my hands and curious fingers to remain in place.
Even in my inexperienced mind, there was something primal and natural
about my new position, the warmth of her breast filling my face with
energy, the feel of my hand resting on her bare leg stirring me to new
highs, and the yielding suppleness of the inside of her thighs
encouraging me to gently curl and extend the tips of my fingers back and
forth along her baby-soft skin. Unbelievable, her legs came apart ever
so slightly, my right hand dipping down between them until my palm was
far along the inside of her left thigh, cupping and holding her warm
flesh less than a fraction of an inch away from her soft cotton panties.
It was apparent that she didn't think my actions crude or inappropriate,
because her legs remained spread slightly as the tips of my digits
slowly went back and forth against her smooth skin. I couldn't actually
see where my hand was with her big boobie blocking my view, but I could
tell the moment the outside edge of my pinky finger caressed her panties
that I was much closer to Heaven than I'd ever been before in my young
life.
Strangely, neither Missus Masters nor I moved from that lovely spot for
the next five minutes, her rocking putting me at ease and the feel of
her warm skin stirring me to immature madness. I never got brave enough
to turn my hand slightly and cup the front of her panties, but felt
satisfied enough to gently stroke the inside of her thigh and only
briefly take small samples of the cool feel of her white panties with
the outside edge of my smallest and least significant finger.
I was having such a good time that the sound of the phone ringing caused
me to jump.
<RING> <RING>
Missus Masters lifted me off her lap, shifted me to the side and let me
come to rest on her bed, turned, stood and lifted the handset of the
phone on the nightstand.
"Hello?"
<pause>
"Oh, HIIIII, Helen!"
I watched as Billy's mom began to have a very informal conversation with
somebody she knew, standing right next to the bed with her left arm
tucked up under her boobs. It was almost as if she was supporting them
for me to look at, both of her lovely titties open for my complete
enjoyment and admiration, her nipples extending firmly from the fullness
of her tits and looking as if they needed to be sucked.
To make this display even more exciting, Missus Masters leaned into the
side of the bed and hinted that I was supposed to bend slightly toward
her body, her free hand encircling my head once my face was lightly
resting against one boob. In her willingness to grant me contact with
her half-naked frame, her nipple was little more than a hairsbreath away
from my hungry lips. Acting quite brazenly, I shifted my mouth close
enough to claim my prize, a strong suck drawing her nipple between my
lips.
She immediately tightened up but didn't wrench my mouth away from her
teet, a deep breath removed from the area above my head and filling her
lungs as she tightly gripped my head. We remained in that one position
for no more than a few seconds, her body quivering and her mind not on
the phone call that had interrupted our last comfortable position.
Before I could mentally encourage my new friend to come sit next to me
on her bed so I could suckle in a more comfortable reclining posture,
she gently pushed against my face until our union was broken, a loud
<SMUCK> erupting from my mouth. Then I heard soft words that travelled
an eternity through my young mind, my sexual teacher having the presence
of mind to cup the telephone mouthpiece.
"Not right now, Carol."
Imagine what I must have been thinking, ' . . right now . . ' conveying
a naughty level of acceptance of what I'd done making me believe she
truly enjoyed being naked in front of me and then appreciated my wanting
to suck on her titties. She smiled at me, turned, and carried the
corded phone toward her closet, setting it down on a small chair inside.
Something about that phone call forced Missus Masters to refrain from
encouraging any direct contact between her young visitor and any portion
of her almost nude body I might be able to touch, now that I was more
eager to take an active role in my education.
Not wanting to miss a single moment of this wonderful experience, I
located, retrieved and put my glasses back on, anxious to have a clear
and undistorted view of her lovely body.
I watched as she busied herself while she talked on the phone,
extracting a blouse from a padded wooden hanger, shifting her position
closer to the open doorway so I could watch everything she was doing.
She began by holding the first garment up to her naked chest and then
put it back, reaching with some difficulty into her closet so she could
remain in view and then repeat her movements, the entire time conversing
with her friend as if nothing could be more natural. She repeated the
exercise a number of times before selecting a fairly conservative top.
After about five attempts at modeling for 'herself', she set the last
blouse down on the edge of the chair and using a single digit on her
free hand, silently called me toward her. I wasn't absolutely sure what
she was going to ask me to do, but with no strength to resist her smile
and wordless plea, I rose from the bed and meekly walked toward her.
I was horrified at approaching her semi-nude form, but did as I was
directed. Once I was close enough for her to reach, she lifted her
blouse and handed it to me, motioning for me to go set it down on the
bed. I acted without hesitation, following her instructions to lay it
down carefully and returned to her side without a sound.
This time, I stood right next to her, putting my right hand on her lower
back less than an inch from the elastic of her panties along her waist,
trying to keep her lovely boobies in view by leaning slightly to my
left. She never did a thing about my wanton curiosity, the fullness of
her naked breast less than a foot in front of my hungry eyes and the
softness of her body against the inside of my right palm.
I was lost in a whole new world of emotions and hormones, a very sexy
and very topless lady permitting me to look at her as much as I dared
and even touch her almost nude body. I knew she appreciated my being
next to her, because after a minute, she turned slightly, leaned down
and kissed my forehead. It was only her next garment being handed to me
that forced me to relinquish my right hand's position from her bare
back.
Acting as her personal assistant, I carried a long knee-length skirt to
the same location I'd set her blouse down and then repeated my steps
with a pair of shoes. Once she'd collected all her outer vestments from
the closet and had me place them on her bed, she stepped out of the
closet and closed the door, turned me around and gently pushed against
my back, urging me closer toward her bathroom. I was sure my visual
adventures were over, until she stopped, turned me around again and
tugged my face into her bare chest.
I stood there with my arms wrapped around her body as she chatted with
her friend, my nose and face pressed between her titties and my hands
slowly dropping until I began to feel the elastic of her panties. I was
amazed she'd let me touch her underwear and nuzzle her titties like
that, but did everything I could to extend the amount of time we were
close together. To make this scene that much more comfortable, Missus
Masters gently hugged my head tighter to her boobies, rocking back and
forth as she maintained a calm and sedate conversation with a woman that
had no idea her friend was almost naked in front of a boy she wasn't
related to.
Missus Masters got quiet and her body trembled for a moment when my
fingers dropped lower, began to cup and softly caress her pantied ass,
her arm holding my face tight against her naked tits. Then, as if to
break whatever illusion I had that I might be able to keep up this nasty
adventure, she let go of me and leaned back, turned around at her
dresser and pulled a single drawer open.
Had I known I was pushing her to act on her strong need for sexual
satisfaction and slowly getting much closer to that dangerous 'limit'
that she had set for herself, I might have tried a little bit harder.
But Missus Masters was a bit too nervous with a friend of hers on the
phone, the real possibility that somebody might learn of our immoral
tryst making her the paraih of the town.
The moment I saw the contents of the opened drawer, my heart stopped.
Her dresser drawer was filled with all sorts of personal undergarments,
panties, bras, stockings, garters and a few things that I didn't
recognize but wanted to stare at for hours.
The first thing she pulled out was an impressive double-barrelled
slingshot, the cups looking like they could hold a whole collection of
my private marble set or army men. Whispering over the cupped telephone
mouthpiece, she gave me additional instructions.
"Please put this on the bed with my other clothes, Sugar."
The next thing she extracted was another pair of panties, handing them
to me as if they were something I was supposed to take permanent
possession of. I was extremely nervous holding and touching her
underwear, but took them to the same place her other clothes quietly
lay, returning to her side yet again, waiting for new direction.
She then brought out a pair of stockings and a pink garter with clips
for the front and back of the stockings to be attached to. I recognized
the apparatus because I'd seen my mom wearing hers once. These didn't
look anything like the ones I'd seen before, lots of lace and frilly
stuff on the tiny undergarment I was carrying to the location of the
other clothes.
The entire time she was handing me clothes and I was dutifully taking
them to her bed and returning for more, she kept chatting with her
friend, as if nothing could be more natural than handing a curious ten
year old boy all the clothes a woman would need to be seen by polite
society, and quite a few that boys my age weren't normally privileged to
stare at.
As if to call my visual and incredibly exciting adventures to an end,
Billy's mom put her arm around me and led me to the edge of her bed
where her garments quietly lay, the woman holding me by the shoulders
and positioning me until she was satisfied I was in the right spot. Her
conversation continued as if she'd needed to chat with her friend for
the rest of the day, her voice calm and soft as both women maintained
their conversation. She then smiled, cupped the telephone mouthpiece
and softly whispered "Turn around, Carol.", my feet twisting my body
around until I was facing a tall full-length mirror.
Without my knowing it, she intentionally positioned me in front of her
mirror so I could see what she was doing without openly encouraging me
to watch. It was a creative use of the mirror and gave the pretty young
mother all the protection she'd need if someone found out I was in the
same room as she was while she was getting dressed.
At first, I assumed my excitement was over, until I saw her begin to
pull her panties down behind me in the reflection, my adult partner toss
them to the bathroom door and then pick up her clean ones. I was frozen
in place at the thought of a pretty lady taking her underpants off and
standing right behind me totally naked, my eyes opened as wide as they
could go behind my thick glasses.
I wasn't altogether sure I would be strong or brave enough to do it, but
I began to shift my body slightly to the side so I could see what was
going on behind me. In the sexual fog of my hormone clouded mind, I
never realized that her changing her panties was intended to give me the
final portion of my visual education, her body now completely uncovered
right behind me.
That's when I saw her in all her natural glory as I stared at her
mirror. It didn't last long enough to genuinely cast to memory or
possibly turn me into stone as my mom had warned, but there she was,
completely naked, her plump trickle as lovely as any young boy could
have imagined and hope to see in his life.
I hadn't any concept that grownups had hair down there, and Billy's mom
provided little influence of my perception that shaving was considered
an option. Her smooth bare trickle was so pretty, so plump and
intriguing, a deep dark cleft going from the top of her bulbous mound to
far between her full thighs. She was gorgeous!
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and my mouth as dry as the
Sahara Desert, the first time I'd actually seen a naked women taking
place without anyone screaming or my having to buy a nudie magazine from
one of the older boys in High School.
My feet kept shifting my position further to the side so I could capture
more of this wonderful visage, my lovely model granting me a longer look
once she saw me take the initiative. Instead of immediately pulling her
panties up her legs, Missus Masters left them around her knees while she
slowly examined herself, something about the inside of her full thighs
captivating her for quite a while.
She knew I'd want to see every detail of her underneath and innocently
splayed her knees apart as far as her undergarment would allow, her free
hand running up and down the inside of her thigh just far enough away
that my view wasn't blocked. Of course, I had no interest in anything
but her plump trickle, so soft and full, a lovely deep crease along the
front that called to me, urging me to dip my head lower so I could see
where it might have ended.
I got to see every beautiful inch of her slit, from high on her bulbous
mound to as far between her full thighs as I could without falling to
the floor between her feet and looking straight up. It was a wonderful
view, one that I treasured even as I was staring at the glory of a woman
willing to let me appreciate her natural beauty. In little over thirty
seconds, my prize was covered, my eyes able to see her nestle her
panties into place. Once she had pulled her underwear up, I shifted my
feet back to where I started until I could no longer see her at all.
Then, a quiet whisper came from behind me that encouraged me to spin 180
degrees.
"Okay Carol. You can look now."
I can look now.
What incredibly permissive words, a gentle phrase that seemed to ring
inside my head forever. Billy's mom must not have known I'd watched her
pull her panties down after all, because she maintained her actions
without so much as the slightest blush, her next activity to lift her
bra and begin to wrestle it into position.
All too soon, her pretty boobies were also being covered, the straps of
her bra being tugged over her shoulders and the rearward clasp fumbled
with along her back. Time for me to come to the rescue and render yet
more assistance.
I stood right behind her and took both ends of her bra into my nervous
fingers, wanting to help her cover something that I desperately wanted
to remain UN-covered. No matter. If she'd let me, I do whatever I
could to be helpful. With a quiet <click><click>, the clasps were
secured, her titties no longer available for admiration.
Then, to add yet more to my exciting visit with Missus Masters, she
turned in place and began to cup and lift each of her covered breasts
with her free hand with me less than a foot away, the sexy young mother
staring at her boobs just as intently as I was. She kept rearranging
her titties inside the thick material of her bra until she felt
comfortable with their position and location, then looked right at me
and smiled.
Instead of maintaining her actions with the next article of clothing,
Billy's mom leaned forward, wrapped her free arm around my head and
pulled me to her, kissing my cheek and whispering "Thank you, Sweetie."
into my ear.
I wasn't truly aware of why she'd thank me for ogling her formerly naked
and now only partly covered body, but at the moment, I wasn't going to
refuse her kindness. It was only after the words rattled around in my
head for a minute that I realized she had appreciated my assistance in
helping her fix her bra into place temporarily.
Her next task was to install her garter and stockings, slipping the
hollow and bottomless ring of pink lace up her legs until it nestled
sexily on her hips over her panties. Imagine my surprise when she sat
at the edge of her bed, motioned for me to come sit right next to her by
patting the top of the bedcovers with her right hand. She then lifted
her right foot to the rim of her sleeping location and began to create a
dainty ring of sheer material in her hands, her knee pressing almost
nastily into and distorting her covered boobie.
I watched in rapt excitement as Missus Masters slowly began to work the
darkened sheer ring of material over her toes and up her foot, slipping
the fabric over her ankle and along the smoothness of her calf. Her
hands repeated what she'd done hundreds of times, going back and forth
and side to side, delicately smoothing the diaphenous veil of tightly
woven magic around her lower limb until she extended her right leg
straight out and used both hands to work the material in place from her
foot all the way to near her panties.
She had to have known I was both terrified and excited beyond belief, my
eyes capturing the elegance of a woman putting her underclothes on while
I was permitted to watch.
I was fascinated with how incredibly sexy she looked getting dressed,
repeating her activities with her left leg until she had a perfectly
matched set of slightly tanned legs. Next was the attachment of the
stockings to the garter, Missus Masters standing up and positioning
herself in front of me as she fastened the two rubberized metal clasps,
hooked them into place across the front, and then the remaining two
attempted behind her.
My vision was torn between watching her sexy display of attaching her
stockings, and the plump fullness of her pantied trickle, a deep gash
snugly illustrated by two soft pillows contained deep inside.
Once all four clasps were secured, she stood as tall as she could on her
toes as if she was standing in high heels, holding her free hand out of
the way and looking at her lovely legs in the mirror, making certain
they appeared as she desired. Imagine my surprize when she cupped the
telephone mouthpiece yet again and asked a fateful question of a horny
ten year old growing boy.
"Do you think they look right, Honey?"
She kept turning and examining her legs, wanting me to make some sort of
determination regarding how a woman's stockings were supposed to be
properly supported. The moment she turned in place and directed her
bummy toward me, holding the bottom portion of her garter and attempting
to see if the strap went straight down, I almost fainted. She was
openly permitting me to look at her plump sweet ass less than a foot
away from my face, her hand cupping and tugging her bummy as if to force
it out of the way so she could see better.
And then, yet another quietly whispered request for confirmation.
"Carol, Honey? Are they straight?"
Her louder whisper immediately broke my reverie, my eyes lifted to hers
for a moment. It took all my strength to reach out and run my fingers
between the strap along the back of her left thigh near her bummy,
gently tugging against it and attempting to pull it more toward her
other leg so it would be centered and match its equal. With yet another
quiet whisper, I received more instructions.
"Thank you, Sweetie! Go ahead and undo it if you need to move my garter
strap and make it look right."
She then turned her face toward the bathroom, maintaining her calm tone
as she spoke on the telephone to her friend. I couldn't believe she was
allowing me to unfasten the rubberized metal clasp so I could reposition
the clip further toward the middle of her thigh. It felt wonderful to
touch and caress her leg, the soft material of her panties, her
snug-fitting stocking along the upper portion of her thigh and the
springy lace that attempted to draw the top of her stockings into place.
Three separate times, the back of my right hand pressed up against the
underside of her pantied bummy and between her full thighs, her knees
coming apart slightly and granting me more freedom to view her
panty-covered Heaven. I had a hard time deciding whether to look at her
plump ass or as far between her legs underneath as possible so I could
admire the puffy area beneath that I'd admired from the mirror.
After a minute of nervous fumbling and two springy retreats of the lacy
clasp away from my grasp, I finally had the clip hooked over the thicker
see-through material of her soft stocking. She never seemed bothered by
my hand being between her thighs and up against her soft hiney, the
boundary between her soft skin and the smooth fabric of her stockings
keeping my interest far longer than it should have. To my amazement,
she then did something that almost made my heart explode.
"If the other one needs to be straighter, go ahead and do that one too,
please Carol."
With deft determination and rapt excitement, my small fingers undid the
clasp and allowed the springy strap to be pulled free, hanging meekly
along the fullness of her ass. As if I knew what I was doing, I began
to work my hands across the surface of her stocking from the middle of
her thigh up toward her panties. I got a little help from her free
hand, but wasn't asked to remove my curious digits from the softness of
her leg covering.
Billy's mom never once impeded my actions, granting me a brief adventure
as I attempted to straighten and tug her stocking higher. The moment my
left hand was between her legs and at the uppermost portion of the sheer
material, I was unsure if I should work the edges of the fabric any
higher. When she turned her head around, smiled at me, nodded and then
winked, I had my unspoken answer.
For no more than thirty seconds, I gripped the snug material between my
thumb and the upper knuckle of my index finger, working it
infinitesimally higher, pressing the back of my hand against the
pillow-like softness of her grown up and puffy trickle. I felt a
combination of intense heat and a little dampness, as if Billy's mom had
wet her panties. In spite of my awareness of the liquid contribution to
her underwear, I kept my hand in place, stroking the saddle of her pussy
with amateurish abandon.
I knew I was pushing my luck, because she shivered and then turned her
head around smiling as she softly whispered her approval.
"Thank you Carol. You're very sweet to help me. Go ahead and clip my
garter, okay?"
Doing as I was told, I reattached the rubberized metal clasp and rubbed
her bummy along the vertical strap one last time, amazed that she wasn't
angry with me to touching her as much as I was. After my task was
complete, I sat back on my haunches and admired my work.
Looking down at her personal attendant, Billy's mom turned around and
leaned into me, pulling my face into her tummy. My arms immediately
went around her lovely frame, my left hand landing on her bummy and my
right stopping along the smooth bare skin across the back of her left
thigh, between her stocking and her panties.
Without any genuine intent, my fingers hooked inward and cupped her
smooth flesh, caressing the inside of her left leg so close to her
panties that I could feel the heat erupting from her cunny. She never
once stopped her conversation, gently rocking side to side as I remained
at her feet, my hands gently caressing her bummy and the elegant feel of
her bare leg a fraction of an inch from Heaven.
She seemed to be lost as she kept chatting with her friend, her free
hand around the back of my head, combing my hair with her fingers and
tugging my face snugly into her tummy. The fact that both of my hands
were tenderly stroking her must not have been upsetting, because even as
I slipped my left hand further under her bum and cupped her ass, and let
the side of my index finger rub up against the underside of her
increasingly damp panties, she never forced me to withdraw.
In spite of the horribly naughty activity I was attempting, Billy's mom
was genuinely pleased that her plan was being followed by her ten year
old visitor. She knew that a young and very curious boy couldn't resist
any opportunity to touch and explore a willing female's body, hers the
perfect one for my needs. I was being drawn into her desire for a young
playmate, regardless of my inexperience and most likely, because of it.
For untold minutes, I remained on my knees, softly petting and rubbing
my new friend. The whole time I was touching her between her legs, I
increased the level of contact I had with the underside of her trickle,
genuinely distorting the elegantly rubbery feel of those soft pillows
within as they were being hidden by a mere layer of fabric away from my
slender and very curious fingers.
Then, while I was gently sweeping the edge of my index finger firmly
back and forth against the underside of her panties, she went completely
quiet, clutching my head much tighter against her tummy as her body
began to twitch and convulse repeatedly. I had no idea what was going
on, keeping my hands locked where they had been before her hips began to
buck against me. As her convulsions peaked, I felt a slippery warm
wetness across the edge of my finger, her panties being flooded with
something that wasn't as familiar as pee.
She kept twitching gently into me for quite a while, her grip around my
head so tight that it was beginning to hurt. I didn't want to make her
any madder than she might be at my causing her body to jerk around in
pain, so I didn't say anything to make her loosen her grasp. I just
knelt there in her bedroom in front of her, holding her bummy and
cupping the inside of her left thigh, the cool feel of her slickened
panties scaring me briefly.
After she collected her senses, her eyes tried to focus on anything in
the room, finally settling on my face. The moment she saw my horrified
expression, she cupped my chin, smiled down at me and whispered.
"I'm okay, Carol, really. I'm alright, Honey. Don't worry."
She then gently pushed me backward, turned around, bent over in front of
her dresser drawer and opened it, pulling out ANOTHER pair of white
panties. Since she was already wearing her underwear, I wasn't sure
about her intentions, so I just knelt there. Her next softly spoken
request took me completely by surprize.
"Undo the straps in back for me, Carol."
As I unhooked the clasps along the back of her thighs and allowed the
springy straps to hang loosely against her bummy, she undid the ones in
front, clutching her clean panties between her upper arm and her body.
To my amazed and excited eyes, I watched as she used her free hand to
work both sides of her panties down her hips right there in front of me
until her undergarment fell to the floor. Now, Billy's mom was standing
with her bummy toward me, wearing her bra, a garter and her stockings,
and nothing else!
With her panties unable to cover her trickle, I looked between her
thighs and saw what had captivated my interest in the mirror, this time,
less than a foot away from my eyes. Her trickle was even prettier up
close, bright pink, plump, with a deep, dark slit that intrigued me
beyond conscious thought and covered with a light sheen of dampness.
Maintaining a rather boring conversation with her female friend, Missus
Masters stepped toward her nightstand and tugged a drawer open, removed
two tissues from a paper box within. She then stepped back toward me
keeping her bummy toward my face, splayed her thighs out slightly and
dabbed her wetness away with me right behind her, watching everything
that she was doing.
She HAD to know I'd be able to see everything she was doing and every
feature of her lovely body, because I was at the perfect angle from my
kneeling position to look right between her separated thighs, straight
at her perfectly smooth and hairless trickle.
My heart was pounding in my chest as she delicately wiped her
underneath, making certain to remove any of the wetness that I had
carelessly assisted in creating. For the first time in my life, I grew
brave enough to do something that I never had attempted before, reaching
to her nightstand drawer and tugging another tissue out so I could help.
The instant she felt my small tissue-filled hand pushing between her
thighs from behind, she froze. I half expected her to spin around and
start beating me wildly, but she never shifted her feet together to
prevent my access, nor used her free hand to push me away from what my
immediate task at hand was.
Instead, I tenderly stroked and wiped her bare trickle from behind and
underneath, dabbing away the last of her wetness and admiring the
smooth, hairless beauty. I thought I was finished and leaned back,
expecting her again to spin around and lambaste me for being so crude.
What happened next took both of us by surprize, her hips and thighs
twitching and gyrating slowly but steadily, a small flood of wetness
slowly forming between her lips underneath, gathering in an ever
increasing drop of clear fluid where her plump trickle hung down between
her full thighs.
Wanting to stay on her good side, I reached around her hip and got some
more tissues, my small hand using one of them to gently wipe back and
forth right against her peepee as her body quivered and convulsed. The
moment my fingers felt the rubbery resistance of her soft skin, I was a
completely new boy, aware that I'd never have been able to do this with
one of the girls in school. This was special. Billy's mom was special!
I used almost a dozen tissues to wipe her up, each one getting
thoroughly soaked through and then a new one used to gather whatever new
liquids she produced. The whole time I kept rubbing and caressing her
naked underneath with the smooth white paper, Billy's mom kept trying to
chat with her friend, just not nearly as lively or successfully as
before.
Fortunately, the woman on the other side of the telephone kept yammering
away like a parrot on a live wire, never once becoming aware of what we
were doing, or the fact that an ten year old boy was able to freely
watch a woman pull her panties down and then help to wipe away the
wetness that I apparently had caused.
It took quite a while before her body stopped twitching and also getting
wet underneath, my eagerness to keep her dry never waning. I even grew
brave enough to slip a lone digit between her plump lips without any
paper and tenderly go back and forth, exploring the snug warmth that I'd
never imagined would feel so incredibly soft and inviting. It was the
most reckless thing I could have ever done, and yet, Missus Masters
never once made me stop.
I grew so brave that I worked the tip of my finger back and forth along
the wet gash that captivated my interest, the warmth stirring me to keep
going farther, deeper, spending far longer touching her smooth peepee
than I'd ever imagined I'd be able to. She even shifted her feet
further apart when I tickled along the hot opening of her insides,
barely a small portion of my slender digit entering what only a more
mature male was supposed to be granted access to.
Missus Masters allowed so very much right then, my actions ceasing only
after I became very worried that I'd get caught and have to go home in
embarrassment. As a last measure of my curiosity, I slipped my whole
hand between her thighs and cupped her vulva with all my short fingers,
gently squeezing and molding my hand to her shape. She seemed to truly
enjoy my naivete, pushing back into my grasp and splaying her thighs
just a bit more.
I actually had to wipe her three more times after that, yet another
small flood appearing after my single curious finger went rambling along
the snug warmth of her peepee, and my whole hand fondled the plump
fullness of her hairless and naked trickle.
Once she was dry enough or at least clear-headed enough and I had
retrieved my naughty fingertips from her underneath, she dropped her
clean panties to the floor at her feet and lifted her right foot
slightly. I don't know how I recognized what she wanted me to do, but I
reached between her ankles and oriented her panties so I could help her
put them on.
The act of pulling a girl's panties up her legs was something that I'd
cherish for the rest of my life, the smoothness of her stocking covered
legs, the cool feel of the cotton material and the heat coming from her
bummy near my head making me dizzy. I never openly gazed at her naked
trickle from the front, but could see everything I needed to from my
kneeling position behind.
After her panties were in place and she was redressed slightly, she
began to reclip her garter in front as I did the two in back. This
time, I refrained from pushing my hand between her thighs and gently
rubbing up against her trickle, just in case she might be angry with me
for making her wet her clean panties again.
Billy's mom never looked me in the eye as I helped her put her skirt and
blouse on, the whole time, permitting me to fasten each button along her
smooth back until they were all carefully secured and her blouse was
tucked into her skirt. Her shoes were the last thing she put on, her
hair brushed a few times and then one last touch-up of her lipstick.
With that, she was finished and her phone call ended. I was sure she'd
say something about me looking at and touching her, but she never once
seemed upset or even the least bit angry. In fact, she was bubbly and
more giggly than before, smiling at me and looking deeply into my eyes
each time she faced me.
Our time alone together was soon at an end, my having spent the better
part of three hours at her house filling a good part of my day. The
last thing that she offered was to drive me home if I wanted, my bike to
be placed carefully into the trunk of her car and both of us on the
front seat.
Of course, I accepted.
After I climbed into the front passenger side of their car, I sat at the
far end of the wide bench seat, closer to the passenger door than the
real object of my interest. That is, until she reached out with her
right hand and patted the seat, smiling at me and silently urging me to
come sit right next to her.
Like an obedient lad, I quickly shifted my position across the seat with
a broad smile on my face, until my left leg was pressed firmly against
her right and my left hand was resting on her lap. Since her skirt was
all the way to her knees, there was no way I could touch her stockings
or bare legs now, but I sure wanted to!
Missus Masters started the car up, shifted it into reverse and slowly
backed it down the driveway where my bike had been just minutes before,
watching over the back of the seat as I looked intently at her blouse,
hoping I'd get yet another chance to see her without any clothes on.
The moment she was all the way in the street, she turned around, shifted
into a forward gear and saw me looking right at her breasts.
"Carol? What are you gonna do with all your free time now that school
is out?"
So much for any more of my early sex education class.
"I dunno. Nothing, I guess."
"Don't you have ANY-one to play with this summer?"
"Not really."
"How come, Sugar?"
"I guess it's 'cause I'm not that much fun to be with. I don't know how
to play ball or even how to swim, so most of the kids don't invite me
over and I just stay at home, alone."
"Isn't there a pretty little girl that would like to be with you?"
"NOOOOOOO!"
"That's okay, Sweetie. If you can't find a girlfriend, I know somebody
who'll want you to hang around and keep HER company."
I was struck by her admission that she might know someone who might want
to spend any time with me. I had no idea if she'd agree with my
assessment of a pretty lady I'd want to be with during the summer.
The temperature in the car was starting to climb, partly because of the
lack of air conditioning, but also because my left hand was resting very
close to her panty and skirt covered trickle. Using slow and gentle
movements, the tips of my fingers began to shift back and forth over her
lap, tenderly insinuating my hostess to tug her skirt high enough for me
to see her again.
To my amazement, I got what I wished much sooner than expected, without
any effort at all.
"My goodness! It sure is hot today, isn't it Carol?"
"Uh huh!"
"I think I need to open the floor vent to cool off a little bit. You
wouldn't mind, would you?"
"No."
Her right hand maintained a careful grasp of the steering wheel as her
left reached down to the black plastic knob along the side of her left
calf, pulling the handle toward her enough to create a small hurricane
between her feet.
"There! That's better."
My mouth then uttered something that the rest of my body couldn't
believe.
"Missus Masters? Would you like for me to pull your dress up a little
bit so your legs can be a little bit cooler?"
For the briefest of moments, she tensed up, my question unexpected but
strangely welcome.
"Sure Honey. Just keep an eye out for anyone driving by. If somebody
gets too close, be sure and pull my skirt down, okay? I don't want
anybody else to see my legs, just my handsome new boyfriend."
"Okay!"
With careful determination, I reached as far down her legs as was
necessary and hooked my short fingers under the bottom hem of her skirt,
tugging upward until she had to lift each thigh slightly so her skirt
would shift under her legs. In the bright light of the early afternoon,
I worked her skirt all the way up her legs until I could again see the
top of her stockings and the fullness of her panty-covered trickle.
Once she was completely open to my appreciative eyes, I kept my gaze
firmly locked onto her full thighs, her right leg only occasionally
moving from the gas pedal to the brake.
"Carol? I want to tell you something and I need for you to listen very
carefully, okay?"
"Okay Missus Masters."
"You have to promise to keep what we're doing today a very special
secret. You can't tell anyone that I asked you to help me get dressed,
okay? Will you promise?"
"I promise, Missus Masters. I won't say anything to nobody. Since I
ain't got nobody to tell secrets to anyway, you don't have to worry
about me telling nobody."
"Good boy! As long as you're gentle, I won't say anything about what
you do, either."
I took that as an invitation to touch and caress her legs, my left hand
carefully going up and down the length of her inside right thigh until I
grew brave enough to touch the bare portion of her upper leg near her
panties. It seemed even MORE daring to tenderly rub her soft skin while
she was driving, the division between her stockings and her body so
intriguing, I kept my left hand glued to her leg.
Instead of reining in my immature enthusiasm, Missus Masters allowed her
left leg to splay out slightly, granting me a bit more room than was
actually necessary. With this sort of acceptance, I knew she'd let me
touch her as much as I wanted to, so long as I was slow and gentle.
Neither of us had any idea where she was going, her direction dictated
by time more than a specific destination. The entire time she carefully
and slowly drove around, I kept my hand tucked tightly against the
inside of her right thigh, the warmth of her naked flesh between her
panties and stockings the only area I covered.
It felt so elegant to softly caress and stroke her leg so close to her
trickle, a small wet spot forming on her panties yet again. For some
strange reason, Missus Masters was having a hard time staying dry. It
was only after she had turned into the local grocery store parking lot
that she snapped out of her reverie, pushed my hand away from her leg
and nervously tugged her skirt down.
Once she parked away from most of the other cars, she turned the engine
off and looked me in the eyes, smiling nervously and not saying a word.
There was something in her head, but she chose not to talk about it just
yet. Just before she began to speak, she pushed the black knob toward
the firewall that had been the source of all the wind while she was
driving, the side vent now closed and in the position it had been when
we started.
"Let's go inside for a few minutes and see if I can't find something to
fix for dinner. Since Mister Masters and Billy are gone for a while, I
won't have them dictating what to fix for their evening meal. Maybe if
I'm really lucky, I might be able to have my new boyfriend come eat
dinner with me so we can visit afterward."
More was being communicated than I was capable of grasping, her
intentions being offered but my awareness lacking. No matter! I'd
catch on soon enough.
To be continued in Chapter 2 . . .
--
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