1. Mike And Me . . . And Kaitlin, Part 1


    Date: 3/16/2017, Categories: Taboo, Author: eagermom, Rating: 31, Source: LushStories

    Jason stood in the shower, masturbating. I didn’t understandwhy he didn’t want sex anymore, but okay, we’d been married for eighteen years, we weren’t the first couple to turn out this way. But why wouldn’t he at least masturbate while we were in bed? Wouldn’t it be better to come on my pussy or my boobs or my face than on a porcelain tub? How could he not prefer a hand job from his wife? I watched from the bedroom. The exhaust fan still rattled a little. In the lightly fogged mirror, I saw Jason angle the handheld shower head so it sprayed his balls while his other hand pumped enthusiastically. Soap foamed on his hard cock. He removed his hand and focused the water on the end of his dick, which bounced in a pulsing rhythm. He threw his head back and his stomach out and I knew he was coming, although the spurts mingled invisibly with the spray. I walked away while he finished ejaculating. I had laundry to fold. This all happened just a few months ago, not years ago like my previous stories. Since that day with Gina in 1997, I’d had a son, Chad, who just turned sixteen this November. Yes, that the same name as one of my students from back when. Maybe I’ll explain that someday. But this isn’t about Chad. Sex didn’t preoccupy me that day, filled as it was with the usual household demands. Chad was out on some kind of group date. I finished doing the dishes, closed the dishwasher and stood, stretching my arms wide. Above the sink, my reflection in the night-darkened window mocked ...
    me. I still looked pretty good for forty, but I wasn’t thirty anymore. I removed my glasses and squinted at my image. I put the glasses back on and unbuttoned my blouse, baring my boobs. They were small, but they felt firm under my wet fingers. I watched myself tease a nipple until it hardened. A glass of wine suddenly seemed a good idea. I walked out the side door, intending to go to the garage just the other side of a short walkway, where a second refrigerator held beer, white wine and extra sodas. Crickets chirped in the warm August night. I glimpsed movement in the dark backyard and walked toward it. A friend of my son’s stood staring at the kitchen window, his pants around his ankles and his hard cock in his motionless hand. He had apparently paused in mid-masturbate, waiting for me to return to the window. I covered half the distance to where he stood before he noticed me. He reached down for his pants and began to pull them up as he started to run, tripping over himself in the process. Before he could scramble back up, I stood over him, one foot either side of his hips. His pants and underwear were still below his knees. “So,” I said, “you like to look? Or what?” My blouse was still unbuttoned. He looked me in the crotch, not in the eye. “It’s not like that, Mrs. Shepherd. Well, it’s sort of like that. I mean, you know, you are totally hot. But mostly I was thinking that you were watching me.” “But I can’t see you when I look out of a bright room.” “Well, I thought of ...
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