In a dark place:
A divorcee is down, her stepson's friend helps her see a light.
I don't recall when it happened, but it did. My husband's affair wrecked me. I was in a dark place when a friend of my stepson broke me.
My life was happy. Married for 12 years, no children of my own, but I was happy to help raise Jeremy and Mike. Paul, the man I had married was a widower with two young boys when we met. We dated for three years. I only met the children after a year of dating.
I met Paul at work. He was an hvac repair man. I was in the office when he came in, it took almost two weeks to fix the entire system. Anyway, we met, we talked, we went ate lunch together, then that progressed to coffee, then dinner, then eventually, my bed.
I thought everything was good until one day, Mike, the youngest at 18 years now, told me that he thought his dad was cheating on me and that I should know about it. I doubted it at first, then I started thinking about the last year. The pieces finally started to fall into place. I hired a PI, then a month later, Paul was served with divorce papers.
Since I moved into Paul's house, I managed to buy a nice little house closer my office. Jeremy didn't care either way, we were never close. He was old enough to tell me that I wasn't his mom and that he could take care of himself. Mike, on the other hand warmed up to me quickly and despite Jeremy's constant interfering and bullying, called me mom shortly after the wedding and me moving in.
After the divorce, Mike and I had regular contact. There was one of his friends named Steve, I didn't care for him at all. I didn't like the way he looked at me, especially when I was wearing a skirt and blouse, his eyes always moved up and down from my feet to my breasts and then back down. If I wore pantyhose, his eyes were glued to my legs. I did think that was kind of cute, the young guy already had a leg and stocking fetish.
As the one-year anniversary of the divorce approached, I was single, hadn't met anyone worth a second date. At the old age of 38, I shouldn't be so picky, but I am. My trust right along with my heart were shattered my Paul. I wasn't going to let that happen again.
The night before the one-year mark, Mike stopped by to try and cheer me up, it might have worked but, I was almost drunk, and he brought his creepy friend Steve with him. I was not happy, but as usual, I was cordial.
Like I said, I was beyond tipsy, but not sloppy yet, but at some point, Mike ran out to pick up some snacks for the two of them. Steve poured me another glass of wine; I actually thanked him. I don't know why, but I began venting about my frustrations with men and my life to him. He was actually being polite and was a sympathetic listener. He gave me a few compliments that made me smile.
About half an hour after Mike left, he called and said he needed to go meet his girlfriend. Apparently, she called and wanted to go out that night. I wasn't going to get in the way, so I told him that I would be fine and told him to have fun. I would see him again soon.
Steve's compliments became more forward. My glass of wine was also refilled by the time I got off the phone with Mike. I didn't know what it was, but Mike soon had me laughing and giggling. Then the music started. I found myself dancing with him. He seemed to be a pretty good dancer.
In my condition, I needed to lean into him to keep in the upright position, I was afraid that I would stumble and fall over. This gave him the opportunity to whisper in my ear about how attractive I was and that Paul was a complete fool to do what he did. He was playing on my weak emotional state.
The alcohol lowered my inhibitions enough. He wasn't the most attractive young man. In fact, he was overweight, and sloppy most of the time. Oversized t-shirt, and sweat pants along with old dirty sneakers were his outfit of choice.
I stood at 5'4, he towered over me. I weighed 110lbs, my hair black and just above my shoulders, my breasts were a healthy 36c. They did look quite nice on my frame. Luckily gravity hasn't taken the full effect on them and they didn't sag too much, they were still quite perky.
As we danced, I felt his lips on my neck, then my jaw, then my chin, and back to my neck. He repeated the cycle three times before he kissed my lips. My lips parted on their own. A soft moan escaped my lips. His arms tightened around me and pulled me into him. I felt the heat from his large body.
He walked me back to the sofa, then guided me down and joined me. Our lips met again. I wasn't sure when, but my shirt was on the floor and my bra flung across the room. I let out a deep groan as his lips closed around a nipple and his tongue flicked rapidly back and forth. His fingers took care of my other nipple. Pinching and rolling it between his thumb and pointer finger. He had me holding the back of his head and moaning loudly.
My hands found their own way into his lap. I felt the large bulge in his sweats, and for the first time, I was happy that he wore sweats. My hand easily slipped in and was able to grasp his shaft through his briefs. It was his turn to groan. I rubbed and pulled on him. I felt his member getting harder and growing in size.
I felt his large hand on my head pushing me down into his lap. I let him guide me. My mind was clouded. I heard a voice somewhere in the back of my mind screaming not to do this... not now... not with him. But as soon as the tip of his cock made contact with my lips, a door in my mind slammed shut. The voice was gone. A new voice was in control and telling me what to do.
I kissed the tip. My tongue licked up and down the shaft before parting my lips and taking him into my mouth with a deep moan. I was on my hands and knees leaning over him. His cock in my mouth, my left hand holding me up, my right hand cradling his large hairy balls. He had his left hand on the back of my head; he would occasionally push me down, or hold me down on his shaft, otherwise, his hand just rested on my head. He was letting me know who was in control. His other hand was rubbing my ass and slipping between my legs and rubbing my pussy through my panties. Then I thought, where did my trousers go? The thought was in my mind for a split second before the new voice told me to be the slut I was.
I took my time moving my mouth up and down his shaft. My right hand tickling his balls, he liked that. My mind played images of him checking me out over the last few years. I knew he loved stockings. I pulled my mouth off of his cock and told him I would be right back.
I stumbled to my room and dug through a drawer and pulled out a package that I bought for Paul, but never got to wear. I stripped my panties off and put on the glossy long sleeve body-stocking there were three holes, one for each breast and then my crotch was open as well.
"Steve... could you come give me hand in here please?" I called out.
