After leaving college, friendships tend to become more sporadic, with the occasional meeting if those involved can be bothered to pick up the phone and arrange something. It was such an action that led to an encounter with Carol, a strawberry blonde girl with 36DD breasts, and at the time in her mid-20s. Although we had known each other for a long time and shared some intimate conversations, nothing physical had ever happened between us, which led to a certain curiosity about what it would be like if it did.
That afternoon, we sat talking in her front room, drinking tea. Idly, I contemplated her body; her huge tits were centre of attention, of course, but as she shifted in her seat I enjoyed glimpses of her thighs, having already lusted after her legs. As time passed, my arousal became greater, before it dawned on me that it had been a week since I last masturbated. I knew that after such a period of time, the build-up in my cock would not disappear so easily.
“Would you like another cup?” I heard Carol ask. An idea struck me.
“Yes please, that’d be great,” I replied. As hoped, she got up to walk through to the kitchen.
“All right to use your bathroom?” I called, knowing that once free from her line of vision I could avoid the embarrassment of being caught with a prize-winning hard-on and make my escape to the loo.
“Yeah, it’s upstairs, you remember?” she called back.
I made my exit and once in the bathroom, I realised the door had no lock. This gave me a little thrill for some reason but I soon became engrossed in my immediate concern, namely my enflamed member. I undid my trousers and let them fall, revealing my aching shaft. Gripping it, I began to pound it, feeling the firmness and knowing that a week’s worth of spunk would be shot out soon. My mind began to concentrate on Carol, her breasts, what her nipples would be like, how they would feel in my mouth, how she’d react to the touch of my tongue on them. Then I moved down to her legs, those full curves, her knees, the hint of thigh that would become so much more as she let her skirt slide up. By now, my cock was reaching the point of no-return and I was pumping it faster and faster.
It was then that I heard a noise in the corridor outside. I dismissed it, knowing that the stairs in the house creaked so much that I’d have heard Carol had she come up. I continued to pull myself off. Then the door opened.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I turned, still with my cock in my hand, to see the figure of Carol’s mother standing in the doorway. I was lost for words. We stood there looking at one another for what seemed to be an eternity. She was an attractive woman in her mid 40s, with longish curly brown hair and typically Irish complexion. Although still hard, my imminent orgasm seemed to have been given a reprieve.
Regaining some sort of awareness, I realised that Carol’s mother must have been working the nightshift, as she was wearing a robe. I quickly took in that she was not wearing much underneath either and as she moved slightly her legs were exposed. A fair amount of cleavage was also on display. She spoke again.
“Why are you doing that in my bathroom?”
I mumbled something and then decided to be honest.
