The Houseguest

It was 8am, and as always, Sharon was awake. It didn't matter that it was Sunday morning and she didn't have to be anywhere until church at 11. She always woke up at the same time. And especially today. They had a houseguest.

Brent was a young Marine who had been friends with her son when they were both in high school. Now Thomas was off in college, and Brent was in the Corps.

Brent's own mother, who was kind of a flake in a lot of ways, had moved back to San Antonio to be with her family. His Dad lived in California. Brent had never lived in any of those places, so when he had leave, he still enjoyed coming home to Virginia, where he had lived for several years—ever since Hurricane Katrina had destroyed the family's home in New Orleans. His parents had been on the verge of splitting up then, but the Hurricane just pushed them over the edge. His mom found a job in Virginia, and his dad went to LA. He had stayed with his mom, even though she was far from winning any parent-of-the-year awards, if you asked Sharon.

Brent and Tom had been like brothers in high school, and he had often slept over as the boys were growing up. She had always adored him. He was like another son, only he actually said thank you, cleaned up after himself, and appreciated every little thing she would do for him.

Brent had a few days of leave, so he had chosen to come spend it with their family even though Tom wasn't around, and that was just fine with Sharon. She enjoyed the opportunity to spoil him. She had made up the spare room for him, but after a year in the Corps, he actually found it easier to sleep on the floor.

Her husband, Mitch, had gotten up and gone to work early that day. Even though it was Sunday.

Sharon was puttering in the kitchen. She would make some waffles for breakfast, and then start putting dinner in the crock pot for after church. As each waffle came off the iron, she put it in the warming oven so it would be ready for Brent. Then she started a chicken enchilada soup in the crock, and she was in the middle of washing dishes when Brent appeared, fresh from the shower. He was wearing sweat pants and a white T-shirt that clung to his flawless body.

"Good morning, Brent," Sharon smiled over her shoulder, up to her elbows in soapy dishes. "I made breakfast."

"Is Mitch here?" Brent asked.

"No, he's working today. He'll be home for football at one, though."

Brent stood behind her, watching her wash the dishes. He had a petite frame. Even in her early 40s, she had an excellent physique. She had always been a dancer, and even now, she taught ballet and jazz, and she did a great job of keeping herself up.

She had her long hair pulled back into a ponytail, exposing her long neck. She was wearing skin-tight black leggings and a loose red top that flowed over her body. He could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts moved freely under the fabric.

"I made you waffles," she said, and turned to smile at him over her shoulder.

"You are too good to me," he said. "I don't need you to wait on me, you know. I'm used to taking care of myself."

"I know that, Brent. You've always had to take care of yourself. That's why I like taking care of you so much."

She turned and smiled at him again, and their eyes locked for a moment. Neither one of them looked away for a very long time.

"At least let me help you with the dishes," he finally said. He came over and picked up a dish towel to help her dry what she'd already washed. He was standing so close to her, that she could feel the heat from his skin and smell the still-fresh scent of soap from the shower.

She took a sideways glance at him. She knew she had no business looking at him like this, but he was a fine specimen of a man. He looked like someone had carved him out of marble, and the way his T-shirt hugged his arms and chest was unfair. But he was young enough to be her son. She turned her eyes back to the dishes and got awkwardly quiet.

"What are your plans for the day?" He asked her.

"Oh, you know. Church. You could come with if you want."

"No thanks," he replied. I've had enough church to last my whole life.

She nodded and handed him a wet frying pan, the last of the dishes.

As he dried it, she stood looking out the window over the kitchen sink, and he was looking at her. He turned and bent over to put the pan away, and when he looked back around, she was watching him. He recognized the look in her eyes and stopped moving for just a moment.

She looked away, embarrassed. She returned her gaze to the window. "Lots of squirrels out today," she said.

Brent didn't move for a moment. He was sure he'd seen something in her eyes. It was like she was checking out his ass. Could he be that wrong? Could his radar be so far off, or had she just looked like she wanted him? He had admired Sharon for years. She had always been so sweet, kind, caring, and wonderful to him. She was nicer than his own mother, but at the end of the day, she was kind of like a mother figure to him. And she was Tom's mother...

In the thirty seconds or so it took him to ponder his next move, he knew he would be taking a risk if he closed the three steps between himself and her. If he'd read her wrong, he would never be allowed in their home again. There was no way he could play it off like he didn't mean anything.

But this was Miss Sharon. The woman with the full red lips and the hourglass figure, and the soft eyes and round, muscular legs. How many times had he imagined this very thing?

He took the three steps to close the distance between them, and just put his hand on the small of her back. She turned to look at him, and it was all there in her eyes. He hadn't imagined anything. She wanted him. He was unprepared for what happened next.

She reached toward his face and pulled him forward, kissing him full on the lips. Her lips parted and she drew him in. No one had ever kissed him like this. Her tongue was all over his, but it was more than that. She seemed to kiss him with her whole body. Her firm, round breasts pressed against his chest. Her belly button against his, the mound of her pubis rubbed forward into him, and he instantly felt his cock start to leap forward toward her.

Sharon had wanted him for years. She had watched him grow up, practically raised him. It was completely wrong for her to be kissing him like this, and Mitch...but thinking about how wrong it was only turned her on more. And feeling his cock begin to swell against his sweatpants for her just drove her crazy.

He wrapped his strong arms around her body, and feeling the support from him, she wrapped first one leg around his waist, and then the other. He shifted his hands under her ass, holding her up entirely as her strong, toned legs wrapped around him and her arms held him around the neck.

Feeling the heat from between her legs through their clothes, his cock responded, now fully erect.

"I've wanted you for so long," Brent said. "God, I remember when you used to make breakfast for us and you'd be in the kitchen in just a tank top, and no bra, and I almost lost it.

She smiled at him. "You noticed, then?"

"I noticed you every time I saw you."

"Then take your clothes off," Sharon said. She pulled at his T-shirt and lifted it over his head. She already knew he had a perfect body. She had seen him at swim team practices, but his time in the Marines had added a hardness, a ruthlessness to his form. She kissed his neck, biting him under the ear.

He set Sharon on the kitchen counter and wriggled out of his sweatpants, letting them drop to the floor. His cock was something she had never seen before, and it was beautiful. Fully erect, looking like you could hang a flag on it, straight, delicious.

"Oh, my god," She whispered. "I want to suck that." She licked her lips and moved to slide off the counter, but he stopped her.

"In a minute," he said. "But first, your clothes." He lifted her top over her head. No bra. Full, round breasts. Large pink areola and oversized nipples as big as raisins. He brought his hands to her breasts, and lifted the left one to his mouth. He started sucking and biting on the nipple, and drawing a slow moan from Sharon.

She remembered her babies breastfeeding, sucking and biting her tits. Still wearing her leggings, she wrapped her legs around his waist again. She ran her hands over his buzz-cut hair, stroking against the grain because it felt amazing. She reached between his legs to find his enormous cock, and she began to rub her thumb over the head.

"Let me suck on you," she whispered.

"Not yet." He said. He slid her off the counter and stood her up in front of him. He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and slid them off. Mostly flat belly, just a few stretch marks. No panties today, either. Her cunt was mostly waxed except for a close-cropped area right around her labia. And her thighs were smooth, toned, athletic. But he already knew that from seeing her at the pool for so many years. And her lower legs were cut from so much dancing.

Standing naked now, facing each other in the kitchen, she started to drop to her knees, but he wouldn't let her. "Not yet," he said.

He lifted her back up and sat her on the kitchen counter. Right in front of the kitchen window. She spread her legs wide for him, and he grabbed a hold of his cock. He brought the very tip of it to meet her pussy, and let it rub against her.

Sharon watched him, thinking at first that he was about to enter her, but then she realized that he was just playing with her. "Oh, Brent, don't tease me like that. Stick it in!"

"Not yet," he whispered.

He let his cock head slide between her labia and find her clit. He had a little bit of precum now, starting to make things slippery. He rubbed his penis head around her clit, and she went wild, arching her back and mewling like a kitten. All the while, they both kept watching his cock move against her.

"I'm going to come," she said.

"You go right ahead."

It was so hot watching his dick circling her clit. She couldn't stand the thought of him being so close to her vagina and not sticking it in. She writhed. She wriggled. She tried to thrust herself forward and onto him, but it was no good. He had too much control and he was so much bigger than her. She finally gave up and allowed the orgasm to wash over her. She came hard, shouting his name, and saying, "Oh, fuck me Brent! Just get inside me!"

But he didn't. Not yet. Once her first orgasm had started to subside, he helped her slide off the counter. Her knees wobbled and she sank to the floor in front of him. Her pussy still felt hot and wet, and even though she had just come and was super-sensitive, she knew she still wanted more.

"Now suck me," he said.

And then she got an idea. It was a little weird, but she thought maybe he might go for it. "Call me mom," she said.

"Suck me, Mom?" he asked.

"Like you mean it," she said.

"Suck me, Mom!" And when he said it, it did fill him with an almost dizzy sense of desire.

Sharon giggled and took his cock in her mouth. She had always loved sucking dick. She loved the taste of pre-cum that oozed out the top. She loved the amazingly soft skin of the shaft. She loved the way men lost control when you were doing a really good job. She slid her mouth back on his cock as far as she could, releasing the muscles of her throat so she could get the tip of it into her throat. He shivered in response, and that started to make her horny all over again. As she pulled her head back, she sucked hard. Then she brought her face forward again, drawing his head into her throat. She took her hand behind his balls and massaged the space between them and his anus as she sucked.

"Oh, my god, Miss Sharon," he said.

She pulled back and allowed his cock to fall out of her mouth. "Call me mom," she said.

"Oh my god, Mom!" And she was right, saying "Mom" flipped some weird switch in the back of his brain. He had never been more turned on in his life.

She went back to sucking his cock enthusiastically, going faster and faster. "I'm about to come," he said.

Knowing this already from the way he was thrusting his cock down her throat, Sharon just sucked more enthusiastically until he came in her mouth, and then she backed off so that more of his cum could spew on her face and chest.

"Holy shit," he said. I've never come like that before.

She nodded. She knew that, too. She grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned herself up a bit, then pulled him down to the floor with her. "I'm not done with you yet," she said. She lay back on the floor and spread her legs out to the side. One knee rested on the cabinet under the sink, the other against the island cabinet. She pointed at her pussy and said, "You haven't eaten yet. You must be hungry."

He smiled down at her, still shaking a little from his orgasm.

He made eye contact with her, licked his right index finger, then brought his right hand down to her pussy, sliding his index finger between her labia and finding her clit. She instantly purred. He slid his finger up and down, taking his time. Then he took his middle finger and made circles. Her hips began to rock against him. It was an invitation for more, so he slipped his index finger inside her pussy. Feeling how hot, wet, and slick she was made his cock start to twitch again.

"Two fingers," she said.

He complied, and slid his middle finger in, pressing down on the bottom wall. She instantly responded, moaning and circling her hips.

He brought his face down between her legs and started licking her clit. Up, down. Very gentle. Just the very tip of his tongue. And then he used his free hand to push back the skin around her clit so that her little button stood out more. This way, when he started tracing circles around, her little clit was more exposed. She purred again. He could feel her juices flowing freely inside her now: he took his ring finger and slid it inside her pussy. She bucked with the added sensation. She was getting stretched in a great way, and he was getting his ring finger lubed up. He then slipped his ring finger out of her pussy and into her anus. And he let all three fingers wriggle in different directions while licking her exposed clit.

She was beyond purring now. She was writhing and screaming in pleasure. "Don't stop that, don't stop that," she screamed. And he didn't. He kept licking and wriggling and thrusting, and she came so hard that thin white liquid spurted out of her and onto the floor.

"Amazing," he said. He kept her hand inside of her, feeling her contractions continue, rolling on and on.

Eventually, he became aware that he was rock-hard again. He doubted that she could stand up right now, but her pussy was right there, so wet and hot, and tight after that massive orgasm.

She still had her eyes closed. She felt him changing position, but she didn't know he could be hard again, so it was a surprise when she felt his cock shoving its way into her tight, dripping pussy. She was so sensitive now, it was a little painful. But at the same time, it rocked her down to her toes to have him inside her at last. She opened her eyes and looked at his face. He had an intensity in his eyes and she understood how much he wanted her right now. She had no energy left to do much of anything, so she just spread her legs wide and rocked her hips against him.

"Fuck me, Brent," she whispered. "Fuck me hard."

And he did. He pushed into her as deep and as hard as he could. He could still feel her vagina contracting even now, and it just made him thrust harder.

"Harder!" He withdrew as far as he could without falling out and slammed back into her as hard as he could. Every time he thrust forward, he could feel the air moving out of her lungs, and her back scooted an inch or two along the floor.

"Now, spank me," she said.

He looked at her confused, but she said it again, with more authority. So he shifted his weight onto his right elbow and brought his left hand down on her thigh, as close to her bottom as he could get.

He was surprised when she came again. Her already contracted pussy contracting again around his cock made him come, too. He popped his cock out just as his cum started to erupt. It fell all over her belly and pubic hairs.

"Wow," she said.

"Wow, for sure. That was like, the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me," he said.

"Weird in a good way?" She asked.

"In the best way."

They stayed on the floor, too spent to move for another few minutes. Then they both went to get cleaned up. Sharon took a shower and changed her clothes, and made it to church by 11am.

Later that night, Brent and Sharon and her husband Mitch all ate dinner in the kitchen.

To be continued.