Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
It’s a beautiful hot summer day and I’m in the front garden admiring my hard work. Weed free beds, blooming flowers soaking up the water I have given them, bees and butterflies dancing to natures tune.
“Hey Mrs B, how are ya?”
I’m startled, shaken from my reverie. I see Robbie’s friend Dean on the pavement, looking young and fresh in shorts, jogging on the spot. I smile my automatic welcoming ‘Mummy’ smile.
“Dean! I’m fine and you?”
He jogs up the drive and I sigh at the intrusion.
“Yeah, I’m good. This weather is amazing isn’t it? We’re having a great summer.”
He is all sunshine and smiles and I feel old and grey. Then I realise that he shouldn’t be here at all.
“Dean why aren’t you with Robbie and the boys in Mexico?”
He stops jogging and grabs the hem of his singlet, taking it off in one quick movement, wiping the sweat from his face and chest, casually tucking it in the back of his pants.
Dean is one of Robbie’s best friends and has been in our lives for most of his. He has grown into a fine looking young man. He is tall and lean, with broad shoulders, long athletic legs, strong arms and a killer smile. I watch him, my eyes drifting from his flexing pecs, his hard flat stomach and the line of dark hair that eventually draws my gaze to the waistband of his shorts. My heart is pounding and I swallow, trying to wet my dry mouth.
For middle-aged women everywhere young men in their 20’s are so very good looking, so very young and so very tempting. It makes for lovely fantasies when you are bored at night but you are left feeling old and lonely in the morning. You’re in your sexual prime and the offering of old men with sagging willies and bellies doesn’t make your heart race. I try to swallow again and I’m at once horrified and disgusted that I’m being so attentive to the physical delights of a boy who I used to give cookies and milk to after school. It’s awful to realise that you’ve finally become the woman you used to make fun of, the same woman who chases boys her son’s age. I shudder with the horror of it and feel the hot flush of shame crawl across my face.
Dean says, “Yeah, I couldn’t afford it in the end, Varsity debts to pay and all that. I’ve got a summer job at the local building depot.”
I feel for him. I know Robbie borrowed the money from my ex, his father, for his holiday. Poor Dean having to give up a sex-fest in Mexico to work, it shakes me from my lustful thoughts and I am once again a Mummy.
“Ah Dean, I’m sorry about that. What a crappy way to spend the summer.”
He nods and grins at me.
“It isn’t all bad Mrs B, I’m getting a great work out each day,” he laughingly flexes his arm for me and the muscle bulges admirably, “and the pay is really good.”
He’s sexy and carefree and my knees go weak. The young have no idea how they make the world feel.
Impulsively I say, “Hey Dean, if you want, you’re welcome to use the pool while you’re home. There isn’t anyone else using it.”
Dean looks thrilled, “Thanks Mrs B, that’s great. You won’t mind having me ’round here? ‘Cos I can guarantee that I will use it most days.”
I hesitate. Dean here, nearly every day in his swimming trunks, doing lengths in my pool, the water running over his long hard torso.
I stammer, “N..not a problem. You can come round whenever you want. Even if I’m not here, it’s fine.”
Dean nods his head, “Thanks so much for that. I’ll be back for sure. And you should let me know if there is anything I can do for you in return. Mow the lawns? Do any odd jobs? I’m good with my hands.”
Oh, good grief child, please stop talking, I think to myself, imagining just how good he could be with his large hands and long thick fingers.
“Well Dean thanks for the offer,” I manage to say, “if I think of anything I’ll let you know.”
He smiles broadly and leans in close to me. I freeze and catch my breath as his face comes closer to mine. I can see the stubble on his chin, the sweat on his neck and I can smell his insanely young salty skin. He kisses me on the cheek with warm soft lips, lingering a little longer than usual and then backs away.
“I’ll see ya then. Thanks Mrs B, ‘bye.”
And he’s off, down the driveway and back onto the pavement, turning and waving at me as he effortlessly jogs down the street. I wave back, giddy from the encounter. I must be menopausal.
I wake up confused. I’m hot and the sheets are tangled around me. I’m naked except for the sheen of perspiration that covers me from head to toe, the heat of the night making it impossible to sleep with any covers or clothes. I groan and reach beside the bed for the glass of water I brought up with me. Gulping it down I hear the noise that must have woken me, splashing water. I stumble from my bed and go to the open window to see Dean swimming across the pool. He’s wearing trunks that sit low across his hips revealing a white band where his tan ends, his long legs kicking strongly, the muscles along his fikirtepe escort back are tensed as his arms cut through the water.
I glance at the clock and see it’s still very early and I yawn, feeling old and tired. I get into the shower, turning the tap to a cool setting to wake me up. The water pours over my body, washing away the salty slick from my skin. I soap myself slowly, the suds are creamy and my skin feels smooth beneath my hands. I have kept myself in good condition with weekly golf and tennis games at the club with my friends. I love to wile away the hours in my garden and it’s these activities that have kept me toned. I know that I look good and not just because others tell me so. I can see it in the faces of men who turn to look at me and I see it in the mirror too.
Still, I feel my age and recognise my discrepancies when I imagine myself in the company of a man. I’ve been separated from Robbie’s Dad for nearly 6 months and haven’t yet taken the plunge to date anyone. Harry left me for another woman who wasn’t all that younger than me. I had very little reason to hate him and the separation wasn’t a surprise to anyone. We’d drifted apart and lacked the will to try to make it work. The alimony he paid more than supported me while I find my feet and I have started to look for a job, my first in nearly 20 years.
I turn off the shower and wrap myself in a towel. It’s unbearably hot now and there are storm clouds brewing in the distance, the air is thick with the promise of rain. Dean is still in the pool and without looking I see him in my minds eye. The firm muscles, the sun kissed skin, his young face, his sexy smile and his large hands. I shiver and ignore the swirl within my belly and the hardening of my nipples. I put on a singlet dress that’s cool and comfortable and some high-cut cotton briefs. I don’t bother with a bra, I’ve always had smallish breasts and they are still firm and round topped with peach-coloured nipples. I grab my breasts and give them a soft squeeze, tugging on the hard little nubs, sending a flare of fire into my groin. Harry used to love my breasts nuzzling them constantly when we made love and I loved having him bite and pull on them. I can feel my pussy twitch and moisten as my mind drifts to more romantic times and sighing with a small twinge of melancholy I go downstairs to make coffee.
I’m in the kitchen when I hear a light tap on the sliding door in the lounge. I look around the corner and see Dean standing on the terrace drying off with a towel. He’s a picture of health and vitality and I’m reminded again of the age difference between us. I bury the lust I feel and put it down to my own mid-life crisis. If I were a man I would buy a fast car and leave my wife. I smile as I realise that is exactly what my own husband has done. I briefly wonder what it is that middle-age women do in this situation and make a mental note to check in with my friends to find out. I signal for Dean to come in.
“Morning Mrs B. How are ya?” he says heartily, his youth and energy are explosive in my quiet little house.
“Good thanks Dean. Please call me Eva, you’re too old call me Mrs B. How’s the swim?”
He walks inside and stands on the doormat as the water runs down his legs and chest.
“Fantastic thanks…um…Eva. I hope you don’t mind me coming over so soon. I couldn’t resist having a swim it’s so hot. I hardly got any sleep last night.”
I reassure him that he is welcome and ask if he wants coffee.
I make myself busy in the kitchen while he continues to dry himself. I avoid looking at him and yet I am aware of every move he makes. The ruffle of the towel on his wet hair, the rasping of the cotton against his skin, the sound of his wet trunks against his legs as he walks towards the kitchen. My skin flushes as he sits at the breakfast bar watching me move around the room. We keep the conversation light and chat about the weather, the news from the other boys in Mexico. It’s torture but I keep my gaze from him. I can smell the pool water on his young skin from where I am, it makes my belly tighten and my hands shake.
I don’t move to sit near him so I keep the bench between us as we sip our coffee. Lightning flashes and we both jump and then laugh out loud to cover our embarrassment. Thunder booms overhead and I squeal, like a child, as the noise reverberates through the house. He reaches across and puts his hand over mine, reassuring me. I blush and pull my hand away.
“Wow, that storm is going to be a big one.”
Dean looks down at his coffee cup, both hands now wrapped tightly around it. The room darkens, the sun has gone and storm clouds have settled in the sky. Rain starts to fall in big fat drops onto the hard dry ground outside and instinctively I glance at my beautiful garden wondering how much damage it will do to my flowers.
Dean follows my gaze and we both watch quietly as it gets steadily heavier. The temperature inside the house has plunged and I shiver in my thin dress. gebze escort I realise with a start that his car isn’t in the drive.
“How did you get here?”
Dean looks at me, “I jogged over. The swim was to cool down afterwards.”
I offer to drive him home and he shrugs.
“Would you mind if I hung out here for a bit, til the rain stops?”
I feel nervous at the prospect of having him here so close and nearly naked and take a sip of my now cold drink.
“Sure that’s fine. What about work?”
“It’s my day off,” he says softly.
His tan stands out in the starkly white kitchen and I notice that he must be feeling cold as his nipples have tightened and there are goose bumps across his chest and arms.
I take his cup and rinse it under the tap. I glance at him and see him watching me with a frown marring his brow. The poor kid is probably wondering why I’m being so strange. My earlier reminiscing had stirred within me the realisation that a good fucking is not to be underestimated. The sooner I got back into the dating game and found a man to satiate myself with the better. I notice Dean shiver.
“You’re cold. Would you like to see if Robbie has a t-shirt in his room?”
Dean blushes and nods following me as I lead the way upstairs to my son’s room. Of course he knows the way, he’s stayed here a hundred times or more. We go in together and I open a drawer and rummage for a shirt that will fit. Dean sits on the bed and I hear the springs of the mattress sag under his weight.
I hand him a shirt with a rock band emblazoned on it.
He holds it up, smiling, “I remember this concert,” he says.
I stand there awkwardly as he puts it on, covering up his wonderful chest.
“Yes I think I do too. Isn’t that the night you guys got arrested for drunk and disorderly?”
He laughs aloud and the sound is soothing and joyful.
I smile with him and jokingly say, “Hey! It’s nothing to laugh at bucko. We were really mad at Robbie.”
He’s still smiling.
“I know. We were so drunk it didn’t sink in ’til the next day. Tell you what though, that night was fantastic.”
The rain is lashing the side of the house, hitting the window so hard it seems like it could shatter the glass. The noise is intrusive and we both turn to watch the rivulets of water stream down the window.
I gasp and say, “Oh God my window is open!”
I run from the room and down the hall. The window in my room is wide open, rainwater is pooling on the floor and windowsill and the curtains are billowing in the strong wind, sodden, flinging droplets of water everywhere.
Dean and I get to the window at the same time, struggling to pull it shut before finally latching it. We are both breathless and wet. Panting we face each other, my hair is hanging on either side of my face dripping onto my dress. The front of it is soaked and it’s clinging to me, the cold fabric puckering my nipples. He’s wet again too and he stands there with his arms by his sides, water dripping from his fingers, his eyes glued to me. I glance down and realise that the water has rendered my dress a second skin and my body is outlined in vivid detail. I turn and go to the bathroom to get a towel. I can feel his eyes burning into my back as I leave the room. I hand him a soft warm towel to dry himself. I am consciously trying to cover the front of myself but he’s still looking at me.
“I’ll have to change,” I say.
“Eva…don’t,” he says huskily, “you look beautiful.”
I freeze and glance back at him. Nervously I laugh.
“Ah thanks but this is nearly see-through. Not very appropriate.”
He shrugs and blushes.
“I like it.” he mutters.
I bite my lip and hold the towel closer to me, like a shield from his gaze. Dean looks out the window and then at the floor. I can see he is trying to think of something to say and I feel sorry for him. There is a change in the atmosphere and I’m suddenly conscious that my daydreaming and fantasising may not have been one sided. I’m instantly frightened at the thought of my becoming a Mrs Robinson to this boy.
Eventually he says, “Eva, when Harry left you I thought he was an idiot.”
I am gaping like a fool at his outburst.
“Dean? Thank you, I think. I’m not sure what to say.”
He steps a little closer to me dropping his towel on the floor. My eyes follow it then drift slowly back to him. His face is a mixture of heat and confusion. I feel faint and my face is buzzing and I realise that I’m holding my breath. I gasp as he steps closer to me and I feel my face and chest get very hot. All of a sudden he seems very imposing. His presence in my bedroom is overwhelming. I panic and bend to collect the towel he dropped. He’s too quick and grabs my arm, pulling me up against his hard tight body, his arm pinning me to him.
“Dean?”
He looks down at me.
“Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you,” he replies.
Oh dear God, here is where the içerenköy escort fantasy meets the reality and it all falls over.
“Dean please, this is crazy…”
“Tell me,” he growls dangerously.
All of a sudden he is no longer a boy, but a very large, very demanding man.
I can’t speak. I know I should say that he is like my son to me, that I had never thought of him that way. It would be a lie. So instead I bite my lip and look away. He slides his other hand into my wet hair, gripping my neck with his long fingers, tipping my head back he inches his face closer to mine.
“Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you,” he whispers against my mouth.
I’m jelly. My legs are buckling under me and I am pressing myself against the full length of his leg. My hands have nowhere to go but on him and I move them to rest on his narrow hips. My body is tingling and I can hear nothing but the rain pelting the window and my own heart beating out of my chest.
He loosens his grip on me and his hand falls lightly on my ass, he squeezes it playfully, drawing my groin tighter into his leg. My legs open, spreading around his thigh. He drops his mouth to my lips, gently pressing onto mine, testing me. I should push him away, slap his face or struggle to free myself. Instead I push back against his mouth, teasing him with my tongue, I thrust it into his mouth and he groans, meeting me with his own probing tongue. I can feel my pussy throbbing and I tilt my pelvis against his leg. It’s been almost two years since Harry and I were intimate, the only action my pussy has had was from me, satisfying to a point.
He pulls away from my mouth and leans down to gently bite my shoulder. He trails small kisses up the side of my neck and my nipples immediately harden. I gasp at the reality of what I am doing and push myself off him. My vanity at being seen naked by this young man is stronger than my desire to realise a fantasy. Dean looks confused and nervous. A second ago he had me dry humping his leg after just one kiss, and now I am running away.
“Dean, I’m 40 years old! I’m old enough to be your Mother and I’m definitely old enough to know better. You don’t want to do this, believe me. We should stop now.”
I am desperately trying to convince us both that we should stop. I’ve gone too far and I know it.
“Dean. I’m sorry for what just happened. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me and I really shouldn’t have kissed you either. I don’t want you feel bad. I’m just not the right person you should be with.”
I’m stammering, desperately trying to find the words that will get him to leave. Instead he falls back onto the bed and reclines on his elbows, eyeing me intently as I make my case. I glance down and see his hardened cock in his trunk and my mouth instinctively opens. He sees where I am looking and grins at me.
“It’s not so crazy that I want you,” he says.
I blush and turn away from him.
“Dean I mean it, this isn’t going to happen.”
I hear him sit up and I turn back to find he’s looking at me with a hard stare.
“Give me one good reason why not Eva,” he demands.
“Dean it’s clear why not. I’m older than you. Considerably older and you’re my son’s friend. This is insane. Good grief.”
Dean is still frowning at me and I’m feeling uncomfortable.
“That’s bullshit. You kissed me back!”
I blush hotly and I’m conscious I’m still in my wet dress. The reality of what’s going on is too intense and my wet clothes are cooling me and I’m shivering.
Dean sees me and says “Eva, take your dress off you’ll catch a chill.”
“No,” I reply firmly.
“Eva, take off your dress now.”
I’d like to say that he’s being petulant and spoiled but he’s not. It’s very sexy to hear him go from a boy to a man. And a demanding self assured man at that. My resolve to continue to refuse him is wavering and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out.
“Dean, I am not going to do that. I don’t think that this a good idea, I’m not taking my clothes off and that’s the end of it.” I say indignantly.
“I disagree Eva. I think it’s a great idea.”
He’s intuitive I’ll give him that! I swallow nervously and I’m feeling panicked and trapped. I try reasoning with him again but he’s insistent.
“Eva you kissed me like you wanted me. Are you saying you didn’t want me? That you don’t want to do it again?”
I can hardly blame him for being confused. In the blink of an eye, before I’ve had a chance to say another word he’s before me, holding me tightly against him, his lips on mine, his hands all over me. I’m caught off guard and I’m instantly aroused as he awakens in me the dormant passions that I’ve buried and forgotten. I break away, breathless.
“Dean, I’m too old to be doing this with someone so young. You need to leave…please go.”
He strips Robbie’s shirt off and drops it to the floor. I inhale sharply as I take in his body again. The delicious young skin, the soft hair, the hard firm body. I bite my bottom lip unconsciously.
“I knew it! I knew it wasn’t just me. You do want me I can see it! I’m not leaving Eva. I’m not asking you to marry me or go out with me. It’s just sex. We’ll have had a good time in bed. That much I do know.”