3
I never in a million years thought I'd be helping Steph, my step sister's best friend, the hot older girl who took pleasure in teasing me all through puberty, study for college classes, but here we were.
Steph's mom Sandy greeted me at the door with a warm smile, their cat Foofy casually strutting by behind her. I'd never spent that much time in Steph's family's unit, but as a flighty highschooler I did have a tendency to forget my house keys, so Sandy gave me an open invitation to hang there until someone else came home any time I did. She and her husband Don were both great people, very welcoming. They kept a key under their mat, and encouraged me to use it if need be whether or not they were home. I tried not to make a habit of it, but I did take advantage of their generosity a few times over the years.
A gorgeous mid-40's housewife, Sandy's long, toned legs and mane of glowing blonde hair made it fairly obvious where Steph got her looks, but Sandy had one advantage Steph had yet to develop: two beautiful, extra large, mature breasts that still sat rather high and firm on her chest, despite their size and age. Now don't get me wrong, Steph was no slouch in the tits department, near as I could tell, but her mom was on a whole different level. Steph had tits--her mom had BREASTS.
Sandy was never shy about showing them off either, which got me excited any time our families would get together, especially in the summer. Wrapped in deep V shirts, or bikini tops that held her glorious melons like weighty bowling balls, our backyard cookouts became exercises in hiding erections. One particularly embarrassing summer I found myself standing across the BBQ buffet table from Sandy as she reached over to grab some extra napkins. I looked up from my plate right as her deep cleavage lowered itself to my eye level, and my gaze got lost in the plump, meaty chasm presented before me. My eyes followed, hypnotized as she straightened up, but quickly snapped out of it, as her exit revealed Steph standing there. Her face was scrunched in displeasure as she stared at me.
"Were you just looking at my mom's tits?" she accused. I had no chance of a coherent answer, so she called me a perv and ran off to tell Alex about what a perv her pervy step brother was. Mortified, things got worse as the next person to sidle up to the table was Don. Expecting to get chewed out by a protective husband, Don surprised me. He just gave a hearty chuckle and said "Don't worry about it, Tim--happens to me all the time!"
He gave me a wink and chuckled again as he continued on. Despite the affirmation, it was the most embarrassed I had been in a while. That didn't stop the vision of Sandy's succulent, bursting cleavage from playing a starring role in that night's masurbatory exploits, of course.
Juicy tits aside, however, Sandy was just a regular, unassuming mom and housewife, mild mannered and friendly to all. She worked at the public library, and was a member of the PTA when Steph was still in school. She coached girls' soccer and made great salads, and would stop herself after one glass of wine before things got "too crazy." She and Don were even known to go to a church service with us here and there on the odd Sunday. They were both really great to us after my dad died, and Sandy had long been one of my step mom Kelly's best friends. That's why Kelly would always just shake her head and give a friendly chuckle when Sandy's twin assets were on display, knowing that showing some deep cleavage was probably the closest Sandy ever got to being naughty.
Oh, if Kelly only knew what Sandy really did when she wanted to be naughty.
A little while back, on one of the warmer days that pop up in the early spring, I had gone out for a run. I liked running. It was a great way to clear my head of all the usual junk that weighs heavily on the mind of a high school senior. It was also the only other method of stress relief that worked besides jerking off, which on that day I had made a conscious attempt not to do.
Running didn't stop my mind from still casually wandering in a more hormone-inspired direction, however. I thought about the color of lip gloss Suzie Travino wore to school the other day, and how hot it was that those same lips came so close to sucking on my friend Tara's pussy. As straight-laced and book minded as they come, the thought that even the class valedictorian was no match for Tara's dark eyes and oozing sexuality was very arousing. It was even more arousing to wonder whether Suzie's boyfriend Mike knew his girlfriend might be a "two sport athlete."
Mostly, though, my dirty mind wandered to Sarah, the gorgeous redhead who lived next door, and who was the object of all of my strongest unrequited affection. I had considered asking her to prom, but seeing as we hardly knew each other, I assumed it was a long shot at best. Still, seeing her in a form fitting prom dress, fiery hair done up, perfect breasts held high by colorful fabric, flawless lipstick accenting her luminescent smile, would be a highlight, whether she was there with me, or with someone else. I thought about who that someone else might be, and whether he might be lucky enough to see her prom dress bunched up on his floor, or feel her perfectly painted lips slide up and down his cock.
Tired and sweaty, I returned home to find my front door locked. I patted myself down, but in my haste to get out the door, I had once again forgotten my keys. Looking out to the street I saw that Sandy and Don's car was parked in its usual spot, so I decided to make my way up to their unit.
Knocking once, there was no answer. I tried the handle, and found it was locked as well. Normally I would have just found somewhere else to go, but my legs were aching, I desperately needed a glass of water, and they had given me an open invitation to their home, whether or not they were there. That was enough justification for my sweaty, over-exerted brain, so I grabbed the key under the mat and went in.
The house was quiet. I knew Steph would be at work, and I assumed Sandy and Don had taken their other car out together. The front door opened into the kitchen, so I wandered toward the sink in search of water. Grabbing a pint glass, I held it under the faucet, my hand on the knob, but just before I turned it, my ears perked up as a long moan floated down the hallway. A deep moan. A man's moan. I froze.
Another deep moan, longer this time.
Glass still in hand, I moved silent toward the doorway that led to the hall, and paused. Another moan, punctuated with a long, drawn out "Fuuuuuuuuck," followed closely by a smokey, feminine voice asking "yeah, does that feel good?"
That was definitely Sandy's voice.
I could have left. I SHOULD have left. I should have quietly left them to their privacy and waited outside for Kelly to come home and let me in. That's what a rational mind would do. I, however, was not thinking rationally. Between my post-run exhaustion and the growing tightness in my shorts, my voyeuristic, animal brain took over, and I slowly, quietly started my way down the hallway toward the sound, cock first.
The moans continued as I moved silently through the darkened hallway, my body vibrating at the forbidden thrill of what I was doing. Sandy's encouraging dirty talk continued guiding me toward the living room entryway.
"Mmm yeah, you like that, don't you?" she cooed. A long masculine moan answered. My gaze rounded the slight corner of the entryway, falling into the living room. I stopped dead in my tracks. My awkward angle caused the majority of the scene to be obscured, but what I could see were bare legs, a man's legs, splayed out from the edge of a comfortable easy chair.
Between those legs knelt Sandy.
Her blonde hair done up in a messy bun that reminded me of Steph, Sandy knelt on a pillow, wearing nothing but a black G-string. Her hands were slowly running up and down the considerable length of a thick, hard cock. Glistening and wet, she treated this cock like it was a work of art, cooing as her hands explored every ridge and bump, periodically encouraging a sudden throb followed by a pleasurable grunt. As the work of her gliding hands drew out another deep, prolonged moan of pleasure, a big, warm smile formed on her lips. The same big, warm smile I had seen countless times at neighborhood cookouts, or hanging out in the kitchen with my step mom Kelly. Her lips formed that smile, and then opened wide as she lowered her head, taking the bulbous tip of the glistening cock into her mouth. He gasped. She moaned.
Eyes closed as she savored the feeling of this big, thick piece of meat in her mouth, her head started to bob up and down in time with her stroking hands. They moved slowly, as one, twisting and sucking, accenting the pattern with a slight slurping sound whenever she reached the tip. Masculine moans mixed with the higher-pitched moans of her equal pleasure. It was quite clear that Sandy, the friendly housewife, genuinely loved to suck cock. My own cock was hard and desperate for release as it throbbed against the confines of my tight athletic shorts.
Her mouth came off the end of his cock with a pop, and she smiled at him while still stroking. Then, removing her hands, she squeezed both of his big balls gently, and took the entire length of cock right down her throat. I almost audibly gasped, but I stopped myself. My hand drifted down and squeezed my full balls.
A loud masculine moan, and a long "Fuuuuuuck meee!" followed as she slid back up to the tip, rolling her tongue around the head, then sinking the big cock all the way down her throat a second, third, fourth, fifth time.
This was an intensely intimate experience between two adults. I knew I did not belong there, but I was completely entranced. Of course Sandy was a sexual person, she and Don had a very flirtatious relationship full of ass pinches and PDA, but my whole being was transfixed by the knowledge that this sweet woman could deepthroat a cock like a pro. I should have left, but instead I stayed, and continued rubbing my hard dick through my shorts.
In my time as a horned-up virgin, I had spent many, many hours masturbating, becoming fluent in all manner of pornography. As anyone does, I developed my own fetishes and preferences for the kinds of acts and images that really got me going. After discovering a love for large, natural breasts and oral sex videos, I surprised myself the night an extra intense orgasm revealed to me an intense preference for cumshots and facials. The one act that was an absolute favorite of mine, however, was one that combined all of my fairly vanilla fetishes into one: when a woman would wrap her luscious breasts around a hard, wet cock, and fuck it with her tight cleavage until the inevitable white eruption.
This is why I didn't leave. Because after a final, long sheathing with her throat that left that large cock coated in thick saliva still stringing to her lip, Sandy rose up higher, leaned in, and with a broad, lusty smile squeezed her buoyant tits around that cock, and started to slowly slide them up and down. This is why, watching my upstairs neighbor, the organizer of the soccer team bake sale, fuck this long, throbbing cock between her heavy mature tits, I reached into my pants, released my own cock, and started stroking along in time.
Sandy was moaning with every hot stroke. A smile on her face, she kept eye contact with her obscured partner as her body writhed up and down, milking this cock closer and closer toward orgasm. She cooed when the fat, straining head would peek out through her cleavage on the down stroke, and occasionally she would dip her tongue down and lick it, smiling that lusty smile every time. Don was a lucky man.
