Though it had not been terribly late when I fell into bed Saturday night, I slept until nearly 10 a.m. Sunday. After completing my usual morning ritual and pouring my second cup of coffee, I sat down in front of my iMac 21-1/2-inch desktop computer to do some work on my master's thesis.
Yeah, I know. Desktops are so last century, but for a grad student in electrical engineering, the large screen is a godsend for integrating technical graphics into the thesis. The laptops and tablets just aren't big enough.
The computer quickly booted up, and I saw there were some emails waiting. I clicked on the email icon and up popped the information about the five unread emails. The first one that caught my eye was from ShaMad.
ShaMad is Sharon Madison, my mom's friend back home. Like my mom, Sharon is 43. Her two sons were friends of mine in high school. During the summer after my high school graduation, her sons had invited me to come spend a day with their family at their lake cabin. They hadn't told me to arrive at any particular time, and it turned out that when I got there a little before noon, Sharon was there alone. Her husband Leonard and the boys had gone to gas up the boat at the marina across the lake.
I should explain that while their boys and I were still in high school, Sharon and Leonard had come to our house several times to meet with my parents about school issues. Sharon had been elected to the local school board. Sharon had then, and still has, a great figure. She was justifiably proud of it, though in our conservative town, many of the women (including my mom) thought Sharon showed too much of too much. When they came to our house, she always wore a skirt and stockings. I would peek out of my bedroom, hoping to get a look at her sexy, shapely legs. It seemed to me that with each visit her skirts got a little shorter, and she always sat where I could look right up her skirt. It became almost a Pavlovian reaction with me: She would cross her legs, and I had to close my bedroom door and jack off.
It was probably inevitable. During one visit at our house, Sharon caught me peeking out of my room and looking up her skirt. I was surprised and relieved she didn't say anything to my parents. Equally surprising, she didn't change either her attire or her position during subsequent visits. In fact, on more than one occasion she caught me looking at her, then apparently intentionally exposed a bit more of herself. She obviously enjoyed the attention of a pubescent high school senior. I became more bold myself and actually looked forward to our making eye contact after I had been "caught." It added to my own arousal.
So anyway, the day I went to their lake cabin and Sharon was there alone, she was wearing a skin-tight, one-piece swimsuit with a wraparound skirt. The swimsuit was so tight she could not have concealed a grain of sand under it. She told me she had noticed my looking at her legs at our house. I was embarrassed, but she said not to worry. With two boys of her own, Ted my age and Cody just a year older, she understood. Then she removed the wraparound skirt so I could get a better look at her legs. She said she didn't mind at all that I found them attractive, and she didn't even seem to mind that I was giving what could best be described as an x-ray stare at her tits and mound. I did not need to exercise my vivid imagination -- the suit revealed every delectable detail with absolute clarity.
Then without any warning, she walked to me, pulled down my shorts and my swimming suit underneath it, and then as my cock bobbed up and down in front of her, she stripped out of her one-piece swimsuit. We started kissing and fondling each other. She took my cock in her hand and started giving me a far better hand job that I could ever have imagined. We were both just about ready to fuck when we heard the roar of their boat returning with her husband and sons. We scrambled to get back into our clothes while they walked from the dock to the cabin.
I left for college after that summer, but whenever I would go home to visit my parents, I always seemed to see Sharon at the local coffee shop right next to her growing real estate business. We talked casually and maybe even flirted with each other a bit, but not so much any of the other customers or wait staff would notice. All during college and grad school, she stayed in touch by occasionally emailing the local news and gossip to me. Ted, her son my age, had married, but her older son Cody had not. Ted and his wife returned to town, and Ted started his own business which had become quite successful. Her older son, Cody, had gone to San Francisco and rarely returned home. Sharon's and my continuing contact seemed harmless, nothing that would have alarmed anyone. She was, after all, my mom's friend, and her boys had been my friends in high school.
During my current year of grad school, Sharon's emails had become more frequent and increasingly personal, even rather suggestive. I had begun to wonder if she and her husband were having marital problems. Occasionally she would include a photo of herself, almost always in business attire. The accompanying explanation was usually that the photo was for her latest advertisement. Her figure and especially her legs were still very-tight-sweater-, short-skirt-and-stocking-worthy, and I must admit I occasionally fantasized about having sex with her. Even though she is my mother's age, Sharon is still hot.
Then more recently, maybe a month ago, I had received another emailed photo from Sharon.
It showed her in a one-piece swimsuit identical to the one she had been wearing when we almost fucked six years earlier. Maybe it was my imagination, but in this photo she looked even better than she had at the lake. I doubted this swimsuit photo was for any advertisement, not even for lake property. She had posed provocatively so that I could see everything necessary to generate a hard-on. If that had been her intention, she was successful, and my reply email pretty much told her so.
Now today as I was sitting in front of my computer on a Sunday morning, here was yet another email from Sharon. It had been sent Saturday. I quietly cursed myself for not checking my email or phone messages before going to bed the night before!
I opened Sharon's email. It included a photo of Sharon in a tight one-piece swimsuit again, only this one revealed much more of her breasts and had very high-cut leg openings. This one left no doubt that it was not for any real estate company advertisement.
She was wearing high heels and had assumed a come-and-get-me-if-you're-man-enough pose, legs spread shoulder-distance with her hands defiantly on her hips to give me the best view of her legs and figure. Sharon must have remembered my fascination at the cabin with her thick pubic hair, because there was a good deal of it showing out around the rather narrow crotch of the swimsuit. The text of the message said, "Sorry - haven't shaved lately -- hope you don't mind too much ;). Call me on my cell phone between 2 and 4 p.m. Sunday if you can." She included her cell phone number after that.
My mouth went dry just looking at her. I looked at my cell phone clock. Noon. I entered her phone number into my speed dial. The phone told me I had one voice mail. I went into my voice mail and heard that the message had arrived Saturday night from Jamie.
"Tom, this is Jamie. When you get this message, please give me a call."
I was still staring at Sharon's current photo on the computer screen when I returned Jamie's call.
"Hi, Tom. Sorry I missed you yesterday, but it really wasn't anything too urgent. Could you possibly meet with Lorraine, Kim, Amanda, Marta and me either Tuesday evening or Wednesday evening around six? I decided that since I had all the right material, I would refabricate a version two-point-zero prosthetic penis for Lorraine in addition to the one we had already finished for Kim. Both have been bench-tested and are working even better than we expected for prototypes. I'd like to bench-demo them for everyone else and then schedule the initial live-human tests. There's no rush, but it would probably be easier for everyone if we all met together and got it going."
"Either evening would be fine with me. My schedule may be more flexible than theirs, so you all pick the date and time and just let me know."
"Actually, Marta said Wednesday would be better for her, but everyone else is fine with either night. Why don't we go ahead and set it for Wednesday night, six p.m., my lab?"
"Perfect. What do I need to do to prepare?"
"Nothing, really, Tom. So, how did your meeting with Amanda go yesterday?"
Jamie had probably already spoken with Amanda since yesterday to set up the meeting, but I didn't know how much, if anything, Amanda had told Jamie about either her plans for yesterday or the outcome, so I decided to keep my comments simple.
"Pretty well. She showed me the technology in her laboratory room. Pretty interesting stuff. A little spooky -- gets kind of close to mind control -- but it's still interesting. Did you work with her in designing the room?"
