Playdates

We'd been on smile and swing terms for a few months, our daughters were the same age, his about two, mine a month or so younger, I had never seen him with a wife or girlfriend, or boyfriend come to that. And my so called husband had left me (though luckily not us, not completely) so long ago I'd forgotten what it was like to be in a relationship. We went to our local park at the same time, most weeks, most Friday mornings. This is the thing with kids sometimes, they make your friends for you. Our two got on, in the way they do at that age, with anyone, the nearest.

So one Friday I invited Jim back to mine, with the intention of letting our two toddlers play and get to know each other. So. A play-date of some description. We had been chatting for a few weeks, idly, whilst watching our children play. Life, going on whilst we were busy doing other things. Were we flirting? He made me laugh, he seemed to laugh at things I said. Had I seen him looking at me once or twice? His gaze lingering a fraction of a second longer than it would if there was no attraction? Had he caught me? Looking at him, when I didn't need to be, looking at his face, not young anymore, but possibly better for it.

He was handsome, there was no denying that, no denying I hadn't noticed. Masculine, strong. Brown-blonde hair, thick on his arms I noticed. Why did I notice? Did this matter? He was usually clean shaved. On the one occasion he wasn't I liked the look of him more, that he usually made the effort, when he didn't, or hadn't the time, or forgot, his thick overnight beard gave him an appealingly casual look.

I suppose it was the sort of park where people might get to know each other, I lived in Ventura at the time, which was a friendly enough little town, even though I guess I wasn't the friendliest. Never rude I hoped, but I was aware I kept people at a distance. Even so the other women who used the park all noticed Jim when he was there. I saw them looking, I overheard one or two comments, mostly about how good he was with Kelly (women notice this, complimenting dads on something they absolutely take for granted with moms), once or twice about what a nice ass he had.

They tried to talk to him, he seemed as hesitant about this as I was. He wasn't rude, just, a little, reluctant, it seemed.

I didn't join in. Mostly as I didn't join in, also as my sex drive had gone into reverse since Corrina was born, part of the reason my husband left, only part I tell myself, surely not the only, he couldn't have been that big an asshole could he? Still though, I thought about it so infrequently, I had forgotten I wasn't even thinking about it. Even when Sadie and Cotton, my bare-all neighbours offered me an unexpected glimpse of themselves.

Then, I don't know what changed, but when I did have a moment, god, the shock was enough for me to be so grateful, to my own body, for not giving up on me, for still allowing me such simple pleasures.

I had showered, after putting Corrina down for a nap. Showered, dried, and walked naked into my bedroom. Naked. That was all, that was enough. I could sense the hard wood underneath my feet, then the thick pile rug. I passed a window. I suddenly felt naked, not just undressed. I went back and stood still in front of the window, it was at the far end of my landing, overlooking mostly my own garden, part of next door's. It also reached from the floor up to the ceiling. I realised I was imagining someone else looking at me, I was being seen, looked at, naked. For the first time in what felt like years I felt that delicious flutter of arousal within my bare body. I stood, almost unsure what it was, sweet, nervous, trembling. My mouth opened.

Was anyone there? Would I move if I did see anyone? My neighbours? There were no other houses within looking distance, but I imagined someone seeing, being able to, walking past their own window and noticing me at mine, seeing a naked woman standing there, just standing, looking out, enjoying the morning sunshine, but naked, tall, still pretty slim from running, from tennis when she could get a game, from swimming when she could get to the ocean. Would he think I looked good? For my age? For a young mother of one? Would she? Would he watch, look at my bare breasts, my stiff nipples, my thick brown nest of pubic hair? I turned for him, for her, I bent down to scratch my knee, I offered my bare ass to them, letting my legs slip apart, letting them look at the dark mound of my sex.

What was I doing? What was I feeling? I pushed my ass out, up, I imagined a man looking, by accident, staring at a strange woman's naked pussy, her long thick lips, looking at my now damp cunt. I stood and turned back. And imagined his cock, in his trousers, hard.

I walked, I forced myself to walk to my bedroom, to stand in front of a long mirror. I looked at myself nude. I saw my nipples had risen to two long stiff points. I looked down to my long forgotten forest of pubic hair. Oh god. I looked between my legs, to the warm furry dune of my pussy. I was aroused, oh god, suddenly, from nowhere, I could feel dampness in my vagina.

I stayed where I was, standing, looking, I pushed my feet apart and touched my pussy, I touched my soft damp pussy, god it had been a long time, it felt so good, after all this time, after the months of functionality, the trauma of childbirth, I was suddenly more than just my biological parts, more than the sum of them. The skin of my sex was so thick and warm and already slippery wet. I dipped the tip of my forefinger inside myself, gasping at this moment of self-penetration, enjoying the clasp of my pussy around my finger, drawing the release of moisture up to my awoken clitoris. It was like the first time I explored my body, I wanted to savour it, to enjoy each field of discovery.

And then my mind opened up to me, and showed me who I was thinking of, who I had had watching me. Jim was there. I was imagining him, still dressed, me kneeling in front of him and undoing his trousers, reaching and releasing. I thought of Jim's cock, I was suddenly reaching into his pants and finding it, hot, hard, touching it, feeling him, tasting him, fuck, my body was delighting in its own capability for pleasure, I had Jim undress for me, in front of me, his shirt, his trousers, his underwear stretched by his bulging penis, leaping out, growing, big, small, I didn't care, hard, becoming superbly erect, my orgasm, so long waiting, detonated inside me as I thought of dropping naked in front of Jim, this man I hardly knew, exposing his stiff cock and taking him inside my mouth, sucking his sweet swollen dick, letting the heat of him warm my mouth, feeling his thickness stretch my lips wide apart, pushing me back, was I too timid for control? Even in a fantasy? Pushing me, ripping my clothes off quickly, exposing my ass, oh, oh I was there, looking, turning, looking at my own smooth butt, bending as best I could, rubbing myself harder as I thought of Jim pulling the full cheeks of my ass apart and pushing his cock hard inside my cunt, I said the word, I heard myself speaking. My voice seemed to fill the room, echo through the otherwise silent house, words that I hadn't used for so long, that I might never have before, not quite, the suddenness, that I was saying this, willing to.

"Oh Jim, fuck me, push your cock inside me, push your cock hard inside my wet hot cunt, fuck me, fuck me hard, oh god, fuck my wet little cunt."

I came and fell back onto my bed. I lay naked, on top of the duvet, a small window was open, a cool summer breeze was drifting over my bare body. Was this a one-off? The first step towards some sort of erotic recovery?

Weeks passed, months might have. I went to the park most days when I didn't have to work, when I usually had to drop Corrina off at Teri's (my best friend from college. Who invited me up here when my marriage fell to pieces, to stay with her a while. I stayed. Then stayed some more).

Weeks and months, and Jim and I spoke a little more, with or without the others there. I sensed him relaxing with me. We got closer, physically, we stood closer, I starting studying him, his hands, his slim waist, his face. His ass.

And I showered, when Corrina was asleep, and I remained nude, in the mornings, lingering at the window, at night, knowing I would be easily seen. I didn't bother dressing, this was a first, I sometimes cooked and ate naked. Knowing, feeling the gentle swell or pleasure rise and fall within me for hours at a time, giving in, touching myself, knowing who it was I was waiting to think about, knowing who I wanted to imagine being with me, undressing, stripping, spreading my legs and pushing his stiff dick inside my aching pussy.

I am sure I wasn't thinking of this, or anything else, when I asked if Jim wanted to come with Kelly back to mine so the girls could have something to eat. He agreed though. With a pleasing smile. He followed in his car. He pulled up next to me at red light and looked in. When he winked I felt my stomach take a tumble.

Corrina and Kelly got on well, quickly, mucking about with this and that. They all stayed for lunch, then Jim said he should go so he could put Kelly down for a nap. I suggested he do that here, upstairs, and we could have something to eat. I wasn't really thinking of anything, but, if I am honest, I think my body was making decisions for me, without bothering to let me know.

We put our kids down, and I prepared a quick salad, some thick crusty bread, I don't normally drink at lunchtime, but I offered a glass of cold white wine. Jim said yes.

And we ate, and, I suppose, flirted a little bit more. Knowing this was now a more adult situation. It was rather perfect. In its way. It was the first time I'd had a guy in my house for so long. And with the drink. I felt quite giddy when we went into my living room for a sit down.

I wanted to kiss him, my brain was catching up, I knew I wanted to, I realised I had wanted to for so long. And yet I didn't. We chatted. Sitting next to each other. He leant in towards me, our shoulders touching. And then, casually – had he made a joke? Had I? - I let my hand rest on his leg, his knee, then a little higher, across his thigh.

We did the stare, his eyes, god he had such beautiful green blue eyes. I knew, we should, we could kiss, the moment stretched and reverberated inside me, more powerful than a kiss, the silence, the tension ratcheting up with each breathless second. What stopped me? Or him? That I was so out of practice? And then I glanced down, so slow, was this deliberate, the moment was still quite innocent, my hand barely touching him. But I looked down, and saw the state he was already in. Oh god. His penis was erect. Oh god, I looked and saw that his cock was obviously hard, I could see it bulging out in a thick curved arch underneath his dark trousers.

How did I do this? Still without kissing, without touching in any other way? I stared at the blatant shape of Jim's cock, frozen, trapped between desire and nervousness, but, I moved, I slid my hand higher, and touched him there, over his trousers, from nowhere, I felt so dirty, so brazen, and so turned on. I grazed, just barely, the length of his penis with the backs of my fingers, drawing them up along his stiffening stem. My pussy was so wet I could feel my panties sticking to me, I didn't look up, I wanted to open my hand and drape it over Jim's swollen dick. But just thinking of it this way, his, I was sitting next to a man and his penis was erect, he, Jim was right next to me and his cock was hard.

I was close to losing it slightly, quickly, my mind echoed back to my recent moment of masturbation, to who I had been thinking about, I wanted his hands on me, between my legs, touching my hot pussy, fuck, I wanted to spread myself for him, but the need to feel him, to see him, was overpowering. Like, well, the first time, without the fear, the guilt, the feeling I'd be talked about. This is a woman's freedom, her real sexual maturity, the unwillingness to give a shit what anyone else thinks. I was without all of this, but with the sweet nervousness of a first time, in the middle of the day, without having had so much as a single date, the moment changing so quickly, so unexpectedly.

My eyes dropped again so I could look at this nearly strange guy's aroused penis, and, still without kissing, without looking up, without even firmly touching anything other than his thigh, I reached for his belt with both hands and started to undo him, to unbutton, unzip, as if this was nothing, as if I was not doing anything unusual. I hadn't acted like this before, if I had made the first move it was never so blatant, so pornographic. I would have kissed, drawn a man towards me, pulled his hands onto my own body. Not this. What was this? I was ready to take a man's stiff penis out of his pants and into my mouth.

I pushed the two edges of his slacks apart. And saw a pair of tight white briefs, and the clearer outline of his aroused penis, stretching the thin cotton out, I could see the shape of his glans, god, I pulled his trousers lower, over his legs, and looked at his underwear, hearing his breathing, a gasp, his penis was held down by his briefs, gripped in a thick bent curve. I felt my own sex throb with desire as I looked at his. There was a small dark damp patch in his underwear where I realised the tip of his cock was touching the otherwise dry material.

My pussy throbbed.

I pushed his shirt away, undid a button or two, pushed his trousers further down. Was he speaking? Was he talking to me? Murmuring my name?

He sat, his trousers now around his ankles, his penis pushing out against his underwear. And I took them off. I gripped the thick elastic waistband and pulled. I saw dark pubic hair, a wide fringe thinning to a trail that led up to his deep navel. I pulled some more, I let the rest of his thick bush sprout, and then the root, the swollen root of a man's cock. I gripped and yanked, too eager to relish the moment. I pulled. I saw an engorged penis sprang free, in my living room, in the middle of the day, I was undressing a guy, I was presenting myself with a pulsing and growing cock. Jim's stiff cock. I looked up quickly, to his face, he looked as innocently and sweetly nervous as I was. His dick bounced out, up. The sight of it, so patent, so flagrantly aroused, the stiffness of his penis belied the control of his demeanour, and sent quivers of increasing pleasure darting inside me. He was so hard, already, so thrillingly aroused.

He wasn't circumcised. Did I care? I studied, this was my first penis in years. I studied the still intact foreskin. Feeling this register immediately, how could it not? I had never been with a guy who wasn't. I didn't care. But I did care. In a good way. I was shocked. This was completely new to me. This was different. My husband, all my other lovers, had all been done. It seems so rare for a guy not to be cut that this has taken over what's normal. Jim wasn't though. I pulled his underwear away from his crotch, I pushed it down to his trousers and looked back at his thick dark pubic hair, his tight scrotum, and watched his cock pulse and bounce upwards. Up, and up. God it had been so long since I'd just watched a man getting hard in front of me, I was always so aroused looking at his dick getting bigger, thicker, longer.

And Jim got bigger, thicker, longer. And then some more. Was he large? Was I able to remember well enough to compare? I was hypnotised by the sight of his glorious prick rising in front of me, bobbling up, pulsing, leaping to a state of thrilling tumescence, my hand, I left my hand near enough to feel the heat radiating from his solid core, as I looked, breathing, both of our bodies heaving air in and out, Jim's cock looked big, to me, so rigid and tall, a pale column of pulsing flesh rising from his groin. His thighs were exposed, the round pouch of his balls, and his long aroused organ. It looked so thick, thicker than my mind was expecting, longer, god, his cock was big, Jim had a beautiful big cock, covered and hidden in soft creamy brown skin, a thick green-blue vein bulging along the middle of his shaft, smaller ripples and gnarls running around the length of him. I could see the protruding lips of his exposed opening, peering through the stretched sleeve of his foreskin.

It looked, in this room, in the day, having only ever seen him dressed, with other people, having revealed it so quickly, the mood, the moment having changed, I don't know, the size of it, the sight was almost grotesque, this large jutting protrusion of male flesh, sticking up from his lap, from his legs, having grown, thickened with blood, with pulses of lust, swollen into a thick solid rod of penetrative sex. Hot, alive, existing somehow independently of Jim, his mind, his face.

His foreskin, I had never seen one before. I sat and looked, looked, my pussy aching, for as long as I could, feeling myself memorising the strange wrinkled circle of skin just pulling itself back over the very end of his penis, hiding his tip, letting me see the shape of it, the soft line of his corona, until I reached, finally, still silent, I reached and gripped the bare length of Jim's stiff prick. I touched his cock. I was touching his erect penis. Oh fuck. He felt so hot, so hard. I reached and wrapped my fingers around his thick stem.

And my pleasure spiked. I felt my pussy spasm and clench as I felt a man in my hand again, hot, so hot, so hard, oh god it felt so good, the obviousness, the un-deniability of his physical reaction, to me, his response to me, my body, my touch, the prospect, the idea of sliding his hard penis inside me, pushing the solid length of his prick deep inside my slippery wet cunt.

He felt so thick, thicker than my fingers were used to, his long firm stem pushing them further apart, I felt his heat, the warmth of male arousal that always managed to surprise and arouse me, hotter than the rest of him, so full of desire, potency, each delicious little ridge running along his long shaft. I let my fingers explore, I let myself hold it, feel it, savouring the smoothness, the softness of his skin, the unyielding hardness of his inner tissue, I rippled my fingers up and down, feeling the gentle give of that fat vein, getting to know it, the shape, oh god, the size.

I pulled, I looked and felt as I pulled a man's foreskin down for the very first time, back, watching, transfixed. It was amazing to see, as his soft skin stretched and slid back over his last secret part, I stroked and saw his smooth dark shiny wet tip slowly become visible. This part, of him, so private, so intimate, suddenly proud, oval, his soft rim so tender, and slick with clear liquid, coated with an almost bubbling layer of male fluid that sent my still untouched sex into paroxysms of reactive pleasure.

Were we speaking? Did Jim say anything? I'm not sure either of us did. I stared. At this man's beautiful hard cock, at my hand, touching it, holding, I wanted him to know, to feel how aroused I was, I wanted to pull his hand onto my sex, to push his fingers inside my panties, to feel through my thick warm hair until he could touch my pussy, until he could feel how wet I was, something, some part of me knew this was different than a normal game, I let myself look up to his face, his eyes, his mouth was open, he was looking down at my hand, his own stiff dick, my stroking fingers, gripping, rubbing his soft warm skin over his hot rigid stem. I looked at his glistening tip, a fresh pearl of sweet pre-cum appearing at his tiny pursed slit.

And I bent down.

Oh god.

It had been so long. I bent and opened my lips and took his warm stiff penis inside my mouth. I held the thick root of it and slid my lips over his large glans. My pussy trembled and pulsed with lust, depraved wanton sluttishness, I was a mother, a sensible mom, I worked and kept house and took care of my daughter, and I had a nearly strange man's erect cock in my mouth, in my house, in the middle of the day, daylight streaming in from my open windows, birdsong and car noise outside, and silence within, I hadn't turned a radio on, I could hear the familiar hum of my refrigerator. And with both of our kids upstairs asleep. From nowhere, so quick. The contrast I think, this utterly humdrum normality and here I was giving a strange guy a blow job.