It was 1980, when punk rock was still a little new, and before New Wave surged onto the radio in my home town. Weeks before the summer, Insatiable was released to theaters, but of course not in that conservative suburban town, and I didn’t hear about it until a year later from another freshman at my college. It was my first summer after high school, out in Contra Costa County, California, where it was hot every summer, and girls my age were dating college guys, and I wasn’t one, yet. That summer, I had another graduation of equal significance.
I loved the naked pictures in my dad’s skin mags, smuggled out from his nightstand and hidden in my room inside the Auto & Driver and Mad magazine issues on my bookshelf. They all featured young women, all of tantalizing legal age, with big hair and bigger tits, thick black bushes on most, even the blondes. Their hot bodies drove me to multiple hot jack-off sessions late at night, or early in the morning, or after school, or any time my still virgin prick awoke to the thought of being plunged into the pussy or mouth, or even just the palms of some willing girl, any girl at all. Still denied access to the sexy young bodies of women my age, I masturbated three or four times daily, well past simply eager to experience the real thing.
The local swimming pool, where we all joined the swim team, was an incredible hangout, where we practiced daily during the spring and summer months. This would be my last year competing, since I had turned eighteen in March. The pool was where we laughed and played and splashed around, eager, maybe even desperate, to get the attention of the opposite sex. The PA occasionally bawled out helpful hints, like “No running!” or “We’re looking for a lost towel” and other announcements, both vital and banal.
The odor of tanning preparations and coconut butter warming on well-sunned backs and legs, mixed with the chemical undertone of the chlorine at the pool and the aroma of hot dogs cooking at the little snack shack, were the smells of my summers for several years. It was my summer home from the time I could swim, up through high school.
As I grew older, I noticed other things. The moms often caught our eyes, women in their late twenties with younger children, up through the thirties with kids almost my age, and a very small number just past their thirties, most of whose offspring were my friends and classmates. Here, covered by their bikinis and one-pieces, they lay under the hot California sun, baking themselves from May through mid-September, turning golden brown. I developed a covert eye for the prettiest of them, their full breasts, comforting and deep cleavage, and gorgeous rounded rear ends an attraction that I didn’t tell my friends, who lusted after the ones nearer our age. I wondered how hot I would find these older women later in life, when I was dating or maybe married to one of them.
The hottest of the moms, before the term MILF was uttered fifteen years later in an infamous sex comedy, was Olivia, my best friend Jack’s mom. Short but compact, her breasts were full, buttocks firm and round, belly flatter than any other mom at the pool. Long black hair, dark as midnight and as glossy as the photos we all wanted of her, draped down to her waist, clinging to her back whenever she climbed out of the water, head back and eyes closed, aware, we were sure, of the effect she had on all males taking in the incredible vista she presented. Once or twice, I masturbated to the mental image of her in a centerfold, smiling wistfully at the camera, secure in the knowledge every man wanted her, and every woman was jealous.
She was muscular, solid, and worked out at a small gym in the shopping district. She even showered there, and every one of us but Jack dreamed of peering into that stall while she soaped her magnificent tits, beautiful round ass and a pussy that, unseen, had to be something out of our wettest dreams. Olivia’s natural skin tone was a deep olive, a legacy from the Italian side of her family, and the sun bronzed it to the color of dark wood, but supple and sleek, and we guessed it was probably silken to the touch.
Even after birthing two kids, she wore a bikini, black with purple, white and copper geometric shapes adorning the fabric concealing her breasts and pussy. Her breasts were full and large, and the size of her nipples, and how thick and luxurious the bush covering her pussy was, provided ample fodder for locker room chatter, and private jack-off sessions. She exuded sex the same way some women wore perfume.
Jack took his share of ribbing good-naturedly, knowing that his mom was the Hottest Mom, a title that she never knew about but was unlikely to ever lose. We wondered out loud if she had breast-fed him; he told us he didn’t remember, and nobody pressed the issue. Having a hot mother didn’t seem to make him uncomfortable, but he told us it pissed off his father, who lived in nearby Orinda with his new trophy wife, barely older than we were; they fucked nightly, or at least every other week when Jack and his little sister Carla stayed over.
Jack was working towards his scouting badges, eager to cap it all off before he entered the senior year I had just completed. Carla was growing into her mom’s looks, but was only fourteen, still the annoying kid sister all of us juniors and seniors avoided. Jack spent a lot of time camping with the other scouts, and a few of my friends were scouts, too, leaving for weekends in the woods, studying their woodcraft, and maybe hoping to find girls skinny-dipping in a nearby lake.
To earn money during the last two years of high school, I had taken to doing odd jobs, mainly cutting old branches down and pruning trees and bushes, then bagging the detritus for the garbage man to haul away every Thursday morning. Mowing was a big part of it during the cooler months, but very little in the way of grass bothered to peek out from the dry ground and endure the regular hundred-plus temperatures of our summer months. I earned good money, and the occasional tip. One time, one of the fathers paid me a whole twenty for restaining their fence. Good money, like I said.
My mom called me downstairs from my room, the Monday after school ended, itself the week after Memorial Day, and I pulled on my pajama bottoms. I’d been sleeping, and my morning wood was still semi-hard, which I tried to hide. My mom’s smirk told me I hadn’t been entirely successful, and I felt my face redden as I turned away, trying to pretend she didn’t know what I was probably going to do in the shower. Sometimes we forget that parents went through all of this too. She handed me the phone, which I took gratefully. “Yeah?”
“Cody?” It was a mom, then my brain registered it was Jack’s mom.
“Yes?”
“It’s Mrs. Nichols. Jack’s mom.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, all business, yet I swore I heard more in it. Blinking to get the erotic visions of the Hottest Mom out of my head, I said hello, then she spoke again. “I understand you trim trees and clean up yards?”
“Actually bushes.” I must have turned beet red; my mom snorted merrily and headed out of the room, secure in the knowledge I could screw this call up without her help. “I mean shrubs.”
She didn’t seem to notice my inadvertent double entendre, or, more likely, knew that I was already punishing myself mentally more than anyone else could for that lapse. “Okay, shrubs. I have a number of them that need trimming, and then cleaning up the usual crap people throw in the hedges. I’ll pay three an hour, and at least ten, if you can do it today.”
I had nothing planned yet today, and told her so. “I can be there in an hour. Just woke up and I need a shower and to shave, Mrs. Nichols.” There was no good reason to tell her that, but I felt like babbling inanely.
Her answer was soft and warm, and I knew I was imagining the wrong things about her. “Mrs. Nichols makes me feel old. Call me Olivia like your mom and dad do.”
“Okay…Olivia.” I arranged to be there around ten-thirty, and figured I could be at the pool with my friends by three easy.
It was a short walk to Jack’s house. I’d been there many times, and didn’t question my good fortune at being able to grab a job when Mrs. Nichols—Olivia—had an able-bodied son to take care of the yard for her, probably at no cost since he lived and ate there for at least one more year of school.
Olivia answered the door in a long robe, smelling of soap and some strawberry shampoo from a recent shower. “Cody! The…shrubs…are along the left of the house. Just trim then and square them up. Clippers are in the garage, and use the goggles. I don’t want to send you home to Sally,” my mother’s grown-up name, reserved for friends, “missing an eye or a finger.”
I studiously kept my eyes above her chin, wanting so badly to glance down at her cleavage, ask her to open the robe, imagining her gorgeous, tanned body in the doorway, naked and sexy… Without more than a slight tremor in my voice I was sure, I answered, “and the hedge?”
She nodded, happy I’d remembered. “The hedge too. Just knock when you’re done.”
I fetched the goggles, clippers and gloves from the detached garage, going in through the side door to grab them, and a few lawn bags. Then, I set to work, pulling dead branches and leaves out from under the shrubbery, and carefully trimming them flat afterwards, tops and front, with as square a set of corners as I could manage. The hedge in front was thick by design, and it occurred to me Mrs. Nichols, Olivia, could sunbathe in the nude in the front yard and nobody could see. My cock stiffened at that stray thought, and I ignored it as I pulled the trash, mainly food wrappers and a couple of glass pop bottles, out from the thick foliage. Then I squared the top, front and back of the hedge.
Stowing all of the garbage in four of the big green lawn sacks, I finished in just under three hours, and knocked on the front door. Olivia answered in a tube top and cutoffs, open-toed sandals on her feet. Her freshly-painted toenails were painted a deep, sensual crimson, and matched the color of her fingernails. I could smell the acetone of polish remover in the breeze through the front door, a sweet scent I’d always associated with my mother. Olivia stepped out and crossed over to the side of the house, nodding in satisfaction at the even faces of the shrubbery, and continued nodding when she regarded the hedge.
She pulled a ten out of her bra and handed it to me. “Ten dollars, as promised. A lot of lawn guys would stretch it out to four hours. I like that you’re honest, Cody.” Her hand darted into her bra again, and came out with a five. Her smile was sweet and indulgent. “For a good job, and not dragging it out. Thank you!” She turned, but not to the door, going to the other side of the house. Without preamble, she said, “Follow me, Cody.”
Olivia led me behind the house to their pool, huge and kidney-shaped, filled with cool blue waters just like the ones at the community pool, the back yard surmounted by a ten-foot high white brick wall, solid and impenetrable to vision. I’d swum there at more than one pool party for Jack’s birthdays, and a couple of times for Clara’s (though her friends were also annoying younger sisters), and once for a big barbecue that happened the year before the divorce. A few pool toys littered the patch of lawn, next to the obligatory lawn furniture.
She turned to me. “Can you clean a pool? Just scoop the leaves and crap out, scrub the sides, make sure it’s clean and fresh? No chemicals, I’ll take care of that.”
“Sure!”
“How about tomorrow, Cody?”
“Sure. What time?” We settled on the same time as this morning, which suited me just fine.
Both bills were still clutched in my hand, and I stuffed them in my pocket, mumbling a subdued thank you, and started on my way back home. It was not even two, and it gave me time to clean up, grab my swimsuit and towel, and head down to the pool with everyone else.
Just around the corner on the way home, I pulled the money she’d given me out of my pocket, hesitated, and took a deep sniff of the bills she had stuffed in her bra. They smelled like money, and faintly of some perfume I didn’t recognize, a little bit of feminine sweat, and something else that I couldn’t recognize, but later came to know. I walked on for about fifteen minutes, and was nearly home when I stopped cold.
My sunglasses! Shit! They were a pair of aviators, which I knew made me look cool to all the girls, and might get me laid someday. And they weren’t in my shirt pocket. They’d cost me fifteen bucks when I bought them last summer, as much as I’d just made, and I wanted them back. Turning on my heel, I retraced my steps, at last stopping at Mrs. Nichols’ door. A quick search of the front and side yards showed nothing, and I gingerly felt the bags I’d tied off, wondering if they’d dropped off into one of them, but there was no telltale feel of the flexible wire frames in all the woody trash.
Embarrassed, I knocked on the door, then again a minute later, before trying the bell. There was no answer, and it occurred to me she might be on her way to the community pool, or out shopping. I needed those glasses; going to the pool without them was as impossible as leaving my towel or swimsuit at home. Hoping she wouldn’t think I was trespassing, I slipped the latch to look for them, walked around the corner and saw them neatly folded on the table with the umbrella, and headed for them, assuming I’d dropped them when she showed me the pool, and she had picked them up to give me the next morning. That’s when I heard the water.
Surprised, I turned to the sound. It was the pool shower, and Mrs. Nichols was standing under the spray, water sluicing over her hair and body. She was naked, beautifully naked, and all thoughts of the community pool fled from my mind. Not even my hottest dreams could have matched this vision of my best friend’s mother, totally exposed in the spray.
Her bottom was round and gorgeous, tanned, with a faint cottontail from sitting around the pool with the rest of the moms. It came to me that she must sunbathe in the nude at home a lot, and the look suited her. Her legs and back were trim and tight, and a deeper shade of bronze than her tush. A thin, also slightly pale line across her back showed where her bikini strap publicly lay against her wonderful skin. The most alluring thing was a tattoo on her left butt-cheek, a stylized old-fashioned sun with a lazy smile, peeking over the horizon. It was the best sunrise I had ever seen.
She turned around, hands rubbing water on her face, eyes closed, and I saw her bare breasts for the first time. They, too were paler than the surrounding bronzed skin, but still dark and exotic. Her nipples were even darker, large and generous and probably very responsive to being sucked and licked. Her lush, thick bush was a kinky forest of hair, a dark primeval jungle begging to be parted and explored. I looked at her without even being aware I was there, was in danger of being discovered.
She was perfect.
Then her eyes opened, deep and brown and sexy, and she looked at me.
“Mrs. Nichols! I’m sorry, just getting my glasses!” I grabbed them off the table, and gripped them so hard I thought I might bend the frames or pop the lenses out. I immediately turned away, and began to frantically hunt for the gate.
“Cody, wait.” Her voice was calm, and not at all angry, and I thought that maybe she wouldn’t call my parents, who would ground me for a week for having seen one of their friends’ bare tits and ass. Even so, it took some effort to stop in my tracks. “Turn towards me, Cody.”
That took even more effort to do, and I waited for her to stride over and slap me for seeing her, a parent, a mom, naked by the pool. Setting my jaw, I waited for my punishment.
Still under the stream of water, she smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay. It’s really okay, Cody.” Every time she spoke my name, I felt a thrilling tingle all over my body, centered on my dick. I wanted her even more now, but that was impossible, of course. I felt poleaxed, and went utterly mute.
“It’s alright, Cody.” Her words were soothing, pleasant, pleased even. She turned to face me full on, dropping her arms to her sides as she showed me everything again, but this time not a stolen glance. She was inviting me to look, and I did. In a moment, she turned for me, assuming a couple of the tamer porn poses, at one point thrusting her tush out behind her, and gazing at me steadily with her mouth in an exaggerated “oh”, puckering her lips in mock surprise. I took it all in, uncomfortably aware of my cock standing at full attention.
After a couple of moments, the ravishingly sexy and naked mother shut off the shower and grabbed a waiting beach towel, with a huge tiki or totem pole design I barely registered, on a cream background. Tossing the towel around her shoulders, she headed towards me, then past me to the table. Dark, wet footprints were in her wake on the white cement, and they faded quickly in the hot sun. She pulled out one of the chairs and sat down after laying her towel down on it, in the shade of the huge umbrella in the center of the table, still naked. “Please, Cody. Sit.”
I took one of the chairs and turned to face her, still not daring to speak.
Droplets of water dripped down from her luxurious mane, coursing down over and between her bare breasts, and she looked at me coolly. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, and she knew it. I looked up at her face, and she still didn’t look pissed, or embarrassed, or, most amazingly, ashamed of being caught naked. “How do I look?”
“Pretty.” That was the first word that came to my tongue. “I mean, beautiful, Mrs….”
“Olivia. You’ve seen my all nekkid in the pool shower, so you can use my first name.”
“Olivia.” It came out almost like a prayer to the dark-haired Italian goddess sitting regal and nonchalant in front of me. “You’re beautiful.”
“You’ve seen naked girls, naked women, before, haven’t you?”
“Um…lots…um, no, only pictures…”
Her laugh was happy, not at all mocking. “All you boys look at girlie photos. All boys do, and have since the beginning of time. Men, too. Like studying a road map before taking a trip, right?”
“Um, right…” I was absolutely petrified at this point.
“It’s perfectly normal, Cody. It’s also good if you get used to the sight of a naked woman before you actually get in bed with one. Right?”
“R-right.” I was certain someone would charge through that gate and beat the hell out of me, maybe my mom and dad for chatting with a naked neighbor, or her ex-husband would see me, and think I’d been naked with her, fucking her all night long, shooting cum inside her pussy, or between the pair of gorgeous tits… It would have been worth it, came a fugitive thought. My mouth went dry as she looked at me.
“Cody, it’s cool that you saw me. I’ve been told I look pretty good naked, and I hear some of the dads talking about it between themselves. More than a couple of them would love to get me in the sack. Not your dad, though…” She hurried to throw that in, either because it was true, or because it wasn’t. I couldn’t decide.
She edged the seat closer, and looked down past my waist to my thickening crotch. “A lot of women appreciate a man who appreciates their beauty, especially if they’re naked.”
“I…know that.” By now I was barely breathing, trying not to stare, trying not to reach for her, which she might have wanted me to do, if I were older.
“It’s really okay. A stiff cock isn’t scary. Kind of excites me.”
“Oh?” It made an odd kind of sense that women, some women, wanted sex the way men did. Just not moms, right?
“Yes.” She smiled again, this time a little shyly. “Did you like seeing me…all over, showering? It’s been a while since anyone’s seen me that way.” She was starting to breathe hard the same way I was, not quite panting, but maybe remembering the last time she’d had sex. She was still the Hottest Mom, but I could almost picture her naked in bed, ready for my hard-on…
“How long, M…Olivia?” I wanted to avoid answering her question, not wanting her to laugh at me. That would have been so much worse than getting caught seeing her.
“A long while.” That made sense; her husband Maximilian (never ‘Max’) had left her four years ago, and married his hot blonde second wife a year later, even though there were rumors he’d been fucking her long before the divorce. Mom gossip was the main source of my intelligence on the other parents, such as it was, and their break-up had provided ample fodder for hushed conversations.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, not really knowing what I was sorry about.
Olivia leaned forward, pendulous breasts swaying with the movement, and touched my hand, gripping it for a moment. “That’s okay, too, Cody.” She paused. “So, do you like how I look?”
“Y-yes.” I never stuttered, but the vision of loveliness in front of me, mere inches away, holding my hand the way no girl, no woman, had ever done, robbed me of my composure. It was a delicious sensation though, and I could easily imagine continuing to sit there for a long, long time, maintaining this most tenuous and fragile of physical connections there.
Her gorgeous skin had almost completely dried thanks to the heat, even though we were under the umbrella, and Olivia stood, releasing my hand while still watching my face. “Do me a favor, and yourself. Don’t tell anyone you saw me naked, or that we had this little talk. You’ll get bombarded with questions, and it would make things a little uncomfortable for me, too. Okay, Cody? Our secret?” She wasn’t pleading, but really wanted my agreement not to reveal anything. It dawned on me she was talking to me like I was an adult, which I technically was already, virginity notwithstanding.
To be honest, I would have agreed to almost anything at that point. “Okay. I promise.”
“Thank you, Cody.” She picked up the towel and draped it over her shoulders again.
I stood awkwardly, and she smiled and looked down at my crotch, then stood herself, and stepped closer to me, looking into my eyes steadily, knowingly. “I know what you’re going to do tonight, Cody.” Her eyes bored into mine, intense, smoky, filled with lust and need. “You’re going get naked in bed, or in the shower, and remember how I looked naked just now.” Her voice dropped, low and sultry. “Then you’re going to touch yourself, humping your fist until you shoot your load. You’ll keep your moans quiet because you don’t want anyone to hear, and you’ll treasure those memories every time you jack off for a long time. I know I’m right…”
I couldn’t deny it, couldn’t say a thing, didn’t know why she was telling me this, how she even knew.
Her voice was a soft purr. “It’s okay, Cody. You have my permission to jack off to whatever you remember of me under the shower. Any time.” She stepped back two paces, and grinned. “That’s normal, too, and I’m okay with it.” She indicated the table. “Don’t forget your sunglasses, Cody. And I still want you to come by tomorrow for the pool. Okay?”
I scooped up my glasses, hadn’t even been aware I’d set them down again, and this time put them in my shirt pocket. “Tomorrow, then…”
“Same Bat-Time, same Bat-Channel, Cody. Thank you for the talk.” Then she turned and walked to the sliding door, her buttocks bare and moving with a delicious feminine motion I’d noticed before, but never with her, and she opened it and stepped through. I heard the click as the latch locked the door, and I finally headed home.
* * * * *
Olivia was wrong, a little. The instant I got home, I practically leapt into the shower to clean up from the yard work, and my cock had remained at full attention since her shower, and the whole walk home. Closing my eyes, I pictured her again, covered with nothing but water and sun. If she was perfect before, she was even more perfect now. This time, I envisioned her stepping up to me, slipping my shorts off, her hands cradling and gently rubbing my shaft, smiling, telling me it was okay for her to do this for me.
Grabbing a washcloth, I soaped it to a thick lather, then turned away from the water, furiously jacking off into it. I didn’t last long, and had to lean on the wall of the shower stall, chest heaving for several minutes after my cock spit out the white, creamy semen I’d kept dammed inside. “Olivia, fuck me…,” I moaned too softly for anyone to hear over the running water.
* * * * *
The community pool was filled with people, friends of mine and their families. Several of the moms were laying out, heads leaned in confidentially as they shared the latest rumors and news, some of them with their bikini straps daringly undone, sunning their sexy backs. Olivia wasn’t there, and I felt some disappointment, wanting to see her in her bikini again, imagining it coming off under my fingers, leaning over to suck on her dark, waiting nipples…
“Dude!” One of my swim buddies pointed discreetly at my swimsuit. My cock was erect, and the thin material was tented and obvious as I sat there thinking of the older woman who was the first I’d seen naked in real life. I immediately sat up and hunched over, covering my thickening crotch with my t-shirt, making my erection less obvious. Embarrassment made it recede, and all thoughts of Olivia left my mind briefly when I saw a couple of girls my age, Nancy and Sheila, walk by and wave to us all. They were brunette and blonde, respectively, and their bikinis showed enough to be exciting to any boy or man here, and covered enough to keep disapproving fathers happy, or at least not scowling.
I dove into the pool, and the cool water made my hard-on recede further. I heard a couple of feminine giggles, probably at some private joke, and I hoped not at my waning erection under the thin swimsuit. I spent most of the rest of the afternoon and into the evening in the pool, coming out only when the PA announced they were close to closing for the night.
That night, I masturbated twice more to the memory of Olivia’s gorgeous body, full lips which kissed me longingly as I imagined us naked in her backyard, under the stars. She was laid full-length against my body, and our hands wandered all over each other before she lay back and spread her legs, telling me to put my cock inside her, to fuck her all night. I heard her tell me it was okay before her back arched and my right hand picked up speed in time to the imagined humping I was giving her. Both times I came hard, biting back a loud, horny moan, putting my pillow on my face to muffle my orgasm, feeling my balls empty themselves convulsively, blanketing my fist with hot, sticky semen.
I did it again during my morning shower, watching as cum streamed out of my rigid shaft, washed away promptly by the hot spray. Getting dressed, I headed over to Olivia’s, arriving right at ten-thirty and knocking on the door.
She opened it up, and I was relieved to see she was wearing blue jeans and a plaid blouse with green and pink lines on a field of white, the latter knotted just above her bellybutton. “Come in, Cody!” The house smelled clean, and she smelled of the same soap as yesterday, the same strawberry shampoo, and my breath caught when I saw a tiny droplet the towel had missed glide down her neck and under the shirt. Paying my stare no heed, she continued. “Right on time! I like that you’re prompt and honest!” She walked me through the house to the sliding glass door, and to the pool.
I didn’t dare mention our conversation from yesterday, and she seemed content to let me avoid the discomfort of seeing her naked again. No, not discomfort, desire. I wanted her body against mine, our lips locked in passion, full breasts pressed against my shirtless chest, before we sank to the ground and started frantically fucking…
“I’m sorry, what?” She had said something, and it sounded important. She pointed out the leaf scooper again. “Shake it out, but don’t bang it against anything. It could break.”
“Yeah. Sorry, Mrs. Nichols…”
Her lips parted in an adorable, fetching smile, with no slightest sign of the lust I was feeling. “I hope you get used to calling me Olivia, Cody.”
“Sorry…Olivia.” Did she want to be friends, like with my parents? All I could think of was that vision of her in the pool shower, her hands guiding water over her naked, inviting body, her ass and tits delightfully highlighted by the pale areas she didn’t always tan, her lush bush, as thick and dark as the hair on her head.
She patted my hand maternally. “I’ll let you get to it, Cody. Come in when you’re done.”
There weren’t a lot of leaves, but there was some other trash, including a few single long black hairs that were almost certainly hers, and I used the brush to lightly scrub the sides. It took about an hour only because my thoughts kept wandering to yesterday afternoon, and the glorious vision of Jack’s mother rinsing herself off, showering after her mid-day swim. I thought about it, and realized I hadn’t seen a bikini on the ground, by the shower or anywhere, and wondered if she swam naked, too.
The leaves were all in a pile, gently shaken out of the scoop, which never touched the ground or anything until I hung it on the hooks over the long pool brush, both along the brick back wall. I gathered them into another lawn bag and tied it off. Knocking on the glass, I was relieved that my cock, probably tired from the multiple beatings I’d given it, was still quiescent, not looking for any reason to make itself prominent.
Olivia opened the screen door, amazingly still fully dressed, and asked me in. This time, my five was on the counter, and I folded it and put it in my pocket. “I don’t need to check. I saw how hard you were working, and you did everything right. I’m going to have to keep you in mind for any other chores I need done.” She turned, proffering an icy pitcher, filled with a frosty yellow beverage, redolent of citrus. “Lemonade?”
I gratefully took a glass, and tried to keep from gulping it down. She poured one for herself, and topped mine off, then shepherded me to the conversation pit to sit and join me.
For anyone who hasn’t seen one, the conversation pit was an artifact of the sixties, and later the seventies, a lowered portion of the floor, or a sunken living room. Couches with backs lining the outside of the space, with one corner left open for access, and other cushions, bigger than ottomans, filling in the space between. It was wall-to-wall furniture, and my friends and I always thought it looked like the perfect place for sex, just rolling around and never worrying about falling off. I’d seen it many times when visiting Jack. The cushions on this one were a deep chocolate brown, exquisitely soft and sensual to the touch, and my mind wandered to how it would feel being naked with her on it.
Olivia kicked off her sandals, then climbed into the pit, made herself comfortable, sitting cross-legged and sipping her lemonade. I took another sip myself. It was cool, lemony and refreshing, and I fought the urge to drain it in one chug.
“Cody, I admire your work ethic. You work hard, you’re on time, and you do the job right the first time. Other kids do a half-assed job while peeking in the windows, hoping to catch me with my top off or changing. One of them peeked into Carla’s”—Jack’s annoying little sister—” when she was about to change. She screamed and ran into the living room. That didn’t half piss me off! Chased him out of here, never hired him again.”
“Who?” I didn’t mean to ask, and didn’t need to know, really.
Olivia pondered my question for a moment, then, “No. I had some words with his parents, and they grounded him for a month. He still blushes when he sees me in the store.” She seemed satisfied, and I saw no reason to press.
“How’s the lemonade?”
“Great! Cold… I really appreciate you letting me do some work for you.”
“You do good work, Cody. I’m happy to reward that kind of work ethic.” She set her glass on the table behind the couch back, carefully settling it on a coaster, then she scooted forward a couple of feet, coming to rest, kneeling on the cushions, inches from my legs. Her tongue, pink and soft, darted out to moisten her lips, nervously or…something else. “Want to ask you something.”
“Sure…Olivia.”
“Was I right?”
“Right?”
Leaning forward, her voice low and husky, secretive even though we were the only ones in the whole house. “Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Did you play with yourself last night while thinking of me?” She sounded eager, and this time she was panting a little, licked her lips again. “Tell me,” she urged, not an order, almost a plea.
“Um, yeah.” I became uncomfortably aware that my penis was bent downward, in the wrong direction, and was starting to thicken and awaken.
She grinned. “How was I?” When I just stared, my face burning, she chuckled. “I know I wasn’t there, Cody, but was I good? When you imagined me, was I just naked or were we…” She trailed off, and I knew she wanted me to say the words first.
My mouth worked, and I thought about what I could say to her. “I imagined… We…had sex. I pictured you and me naked by your pool… It was night and the stars were out, and you wanted me to…fuck you, and I imagined I was inside you when I came…”
Olivia looked very gratified. “I thought you would. That look in your eyes when you saw me, and how hard you were when you saw my tits in front of your face. I knew you would.” She heaved a deep sigh and closed her eyes for an instant, before opening them again. Still whispering, “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Okay.”
Her breaths were coming heavily now, and I wondered if she was as horny as I was. “As soon as you left, I ran upstairs naked to my bedroom, lay back on my bed and rubbed my pussy until I came. Thinking of you jacking off to me being naked out back. Later, I was still horny, and I did it again, but this time pushed the handle of my hair brush all the way inside me. I imagined it was your cock filling me up, and I did it twice more afterwards, letting the handle fuck me hard.” One hand crept forward and gingerly touched the top of my thigh, just above where my shorts ended. “Not scaring you, am I?”
Far from it, actually. Now my cock was almost painfully stiff, bent uncomfortably downward, and I was panting too, wanting our clothes strewn on the floor and her sleek sexy body against me, fuck the fact that she was my best friend’s mom. “No,” was all I could manage. Her hand crept up my thigh, stopping just below my crotch. Her eyes were luminous, drinking me in, and I coughed nervously.
“Can I ask you something else, Cody?”
“Okay.” My whole vocabulary had shrunk to single words, and I couldn’t move.
“I want you ask you to do something for me. If you want to. You don’t have to.”
I wanted to fulfill any request she had, especially if it meant her climbing on top of me naked and ripping away my virginity, but all I managed was a nod, and a quiet, “What do you want me to do?”
Olivia closed her eyes and gathered herself, then opened them. “Please take off your pants. Please. I want to…see it. See you hard…”
Stunned, I realized I wanted her to see it. I handed her my glass, which she placed next to hers, and fumbled with my belt, then the button and zipper on my shorts, slipping them and my boxers all the way down, past my sneakers and finally all the way off, and moved them away, just within reach. Now all I was wearing was my sweaty t-shirt and my socks and shoes. My hard-on, freed from its denim prison, sprang up, the head nearly at my navel, and Olivia voiced a soft, “oooh…” The fabric of the furniture was cool on my ass, and I spread my legs a few inches to give her a better view.
“Do you like how it looks?” I asked her that, not out of impertinence, but to know for sure that she liked what I had.
“Yes, Cody…” She was still whispering, sounding like she was in awe of it. No-one else had ever seen my cock out and hard, and she stayed still, her tongue wetting her lips once more. “Cody, do something for me.” Her hand laid itself on the inside of my bare thigh, halfway to my balls. “Please…”
“What, Olivia?”
“Let me see you touch it for me. Gently.”
My right hand moved almost without my volition, and my fingertips grazed the rigid pole. My cock jumped a little from the contact, and I heard her inward hiss of breath, the joy and anticipation of unspoken, overwhelming lust. I closed my eyes and ran my fingertips the length of my cock, from my balls all the way up to the swollen purple head, then back down.
Olivia whispered, “Yes…”
Still barely grazing the fleshy shaft, I repeated the motion, feeling my hand start to pick up speed but still going slowly, building the pressure inside me, along the whole length of my straining penis. Her breathing and mine synchronized, and I heard her covetous panting in time to my soft moans. I wanted her there, watching how much she had driven me wild, how much joy the vision of her naked body under the streaming water gave me, was now giving me again.
Her hand withdrew, and I felt her shift and move for a few moments, but nothing interrupted the stroking of my fingertips on my now-quivering hard-on. Intent on dragging this out as long as I could, I swallowed, and maintained the same speed. A moan escaped my throat as my excitement raged along the length of my shaft.
“Cody…” Her whisper was even softer this time, but startling anyway in the stillness of her living room. “Open your eyes…”
I peeked out from under my eyelids, and when they focused they shot all the way open. Olivia had slipped her own pants off along with her panties, and pulled her shirt above her ample tits, still bound by a black bra. She was leaning against the couch back just a couple of feet away, naked all the way below her tits, bare feet almost touching me. Two of her fingers were inserted inside her pussy, while the other hand stroked her clit. Her legs were spread wide, and she moaned when both her fingers went past the first joint, and further, almost all the way to her palm.
“Don’t stop, Cody. Let me watch…” She cooed the last word, and her eyes flickered up to mine for an instant, fingers still working her snatch slowly, before going back to the view of my cock and hand, still playing along the length of my erection. I heard the moist sound of her fingers stroking the inside of her pussy, and smelled the musky scent of her womanhood, warm and thick and heady. I knew that was what I’d smelled on the bills she’d given me yesterday, and that awareness, and my questioning if she had purposely rubbed them on her twat, doubled my desire.
Now my fingers gripped my shaft, still moving slowly, building more and more pressure in my balls and cock. I kept my eyes open now, watching her masturbate, watching her watching me and being turned on by me, my cock. It seemed only fair after seeing her showering yesterday. “Fuck… You’re beautiful…” Those words barely made it out before I wanted to speed up, finish and cum all over.
Olivia moaned again, and I saw her fingers, covered in her pussy juices, disappear and reappear inside her as she, too, picked up speed. Still whispering, “Cody, this is what I did last night, imagining you jacking off.” She moaned again, still panting, but her eyes never left my erection. “Then I put the…ah!…brush handle inside me. Ahh! I pretended it was your nice, thick cock, baby. Slipped it in and out of me, like your were fucking my cunt, pounding me, making me…cum…” She moaned again, laying her head back, still she fingering her pussy. Her other hand moved up to her breasts and started kneading them, playing with them, too.
Fuck it… Gripping my cock with my whole fist, I dropped all pretense of going slowly, of lasting for her. She was hot and sexy, and seeing her finger-fucking herself drove me over the top. We were still alone, the house cool and secluded, our own private world in the conversation pit, both of us being turned on by the sight of the other’s pleasure.
“Take off your bra…” The words surprised me by coming out of my mouth, but it had the effect I desired.
Olivia sat up without any interruption and whipped her shirt off one-handed, continuing to plunge her fingers inside her pussy, letting the bra slide down, and with an erotic shock I realized she had already unclasped it. She tossed both off to the side, leering hungrily at my cock play, still fingering herself, naked as she had been under the pool shower. “Don’t stop, baby. Jack off for me, Cody. Let me see you cum, just like you did last night, just like I imagined you, baby…”
I had no choice, didn’t want one. My fist had a mind of its own, with one goal, cumming in front of the Hottest Mom, letting her watch. My balls spasmed once, twice, three times, and I threw my head back, feeling the jism starting to rise, coursing along the length of my cock, out the top…
I moaned, then screamed in release. Thick ropy strands of cum barreled out of me, and I felt the thick, hot fluid jet out onto my stomach, feeling my balls empty themselves again, clenching in time to my thundering heartbeat, spurt after spurt, my orgasm slowly dissipating with each pulse. My hand still gripped my cock, squeezing the last drops from it, as waves of lassitude and satisfaction swept over me. Opening my eyes and glancing over at her, I was stunned to see her on all fours, her face poised over my fading erection. She was panting harder, the scent of her pussy permeating the air, and looked me in the eyes again.
“Cody, thank you for letting me watch.” She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, an oddly chaste peck of her lips following the most intimate thing I’d ever done with a woman, any woman.
“You’re…welcome, Olivia.” I saw her shift her eyes to the streams of cooling semen, some of which had shot onto my shirt. “I guess I should have taken off my t-shirt.”
Olivia chuckled, then playfully extended her tongue to the very tip of my penis, licking slowly around the head. A string of cum connected the head of it and her tongue when she pulled back, breaking in two when she got about six inches away, and if it had been remotely possible I would have cum again. “I’ll wash it for you if you take it off now.”
I pulled it off me and lay back naked except for my shoes and socks, and handed it to her. She used it to mop up the rest of my semen, and giggled joyfully with the last of it. “That was so sexy, Cody.” She didn’t move, still on all fours, like some erotic, feral feline, clutching my cum-stained shirt in one hand and gazing appreciatively into my eyes. “Have you ever…been caught jacking off?’
I shook my head.
“So glad I caught you. No man has ever let me watch him get himself off like that. You have a beautiful, thick rod, and I loved seeing you cum.” She retreated to the open corner of the conversation pit, and handed me my lemonade. “You look like you could use it, Cody.” This time I did drain the glass, and she set it back next to hers. Then she stood all the way up, naked and glorious, and padded softly down the hall to the laundry room. I heard the soft clang of the lid, and the rush of water as the cycle started. Then she came back to me and climbed onto the cushions, this time next to me.
She lay her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes, and I put one arm around her, closing my eyes too. Just for a moment, I told myself.
* * * * *
The sun was much lower in the sky when I awoke, but there was still plenty of daylight. Olivia had already gotten up, was no longer lying against me, and the fabric next to me was cool. I looked up as she walked in with my shirt, no longer dirty with sweat and cum, and she was completely dressed again, appraising me. I was still naked, of course, and felt abruptly exposed, but she looked down at me with appreciation and lust, and I immediately felt quite comfortable there.
“Your shirt is clean and dry, still a little warm.” She handed it to me, and it was warm, fresh from the dryer. I grabbed my boxers and shorts and pulled them on, then the t-shirt. Throughout I didn’t say a word, couldn’t think of anything to say. The whole time, Olivia watched every move I made and stepped back a fraction of a step to let me out of the conversation pit.
When I stood up, she hugged me, and gave me another peck on the cheek. “Cody, thank you so much for all your hard work. All of it.” Then she kissed me on the lips, and I wanted to kiss back, crush her against me, rip both our clothes off and pound her pussy until both of us were satisfied. I didn’t move to do that, though, almost paralyzed by the surprise of that kiss.
“I know that look, Cody. You liked what we did. You want to,” her lips crept around to my ear, and her next words were silken, smoky. “You want to fuck me…”
She pulled back and released me from the hug, giving her head a rueful shake. “If you were a little older…”
“I’m eighteen, Olivia.” Even to my ears it sounded plaintive, defensive.
She laughed, not unkindly or mockingly, but with understanding. “I was there for your birthday party, before you guys ran off to a movie, probably something with naked girls in it. Right?”
My parents didn’t even know that, and I nodded in acknowledgement.
She kissed me again, on the lips. “You’re a sweet young man. If I were your age, I wouldn’t let you leave all night, or the night after that. I am a little lonely, and you are very tempting.”
Leading me to the door, she reached for the handle to open it. Without any warning, Olivia stepped in to me again, and seized me, holding me tight, pressing her lips against mine, opening them for me. My mouth opened too, and I felt her tongue dart into my mouth, her low moaning and longing a superb accompaniment, for a long French kiss. When she pulled back this time, I thought I saw a tear at the corner of her eye, even in her desire. “Thank you so much, Cody. Now you head on home.” She touched my cheek fondly, then I slipped out the door and started my walk home.