CHAPTER 1
Let me say at the very beginning that Lora was not a beautiful woman. Only when the light and the expression on her face were just right could she appear rather attractive. But then, on second glance a moment later, she would be the plainest looking of females. I did not find her at all sexually appealing right up until the moment it happened.
The year was 1963. My college roommate Ronny had invited me to pass the spring break with him and his family in Houston, less than two hours drive from school. Since my own parents lived halfway across the continent, and were spiraling down toward a messy divorce, I gladly accepted his invitation.
We arrived at Ronny's house late on a windy March day, just in time for supper. His father Carl was away on business, and would not return until our last day there. I was soon introduced to Ronny's brother Dennis, who was 14, and sister Carol, who was 10. And to Lora.
My roommate's mother was then in her late 30s. Like any college-age male, I sized up her physical attributes in a single look. She had black hair, worn in loose Marilyn Monroe style curls, and large green eyes that were alas, always behind horn-rim glasses. The night I met her, she was wearing a simple print dress that indicated her breasts to be quite ordinary, even smallish. In her favor, however, were full expansive hips and a waist that was surprisingly narrow, considering her age and the fact that she had borne three children.
In a story like this, I ought to say that Lora cast me a flirtatious eye, or that sexual sparks were ignited as soon as we met, but I would be lying. Nothing whatsoever happened. Lora gave me polite smiles, asked the usual questions about my family and my studies; then, more or less ignored me. As I did her. To me she was the most average of average housewives, not very pretty even by the low standards of that category. And definitely not in the same league with the soft luscious coeds who were then the focus of my carnal desires.
Spring had fully arrived in Houston, with warm humid weather already upon us. Ronny and I spent the first two days playing golf and relaxing around the family swimming pool. And of course trying, with only middling luck, to pick up girls.
On the third day, just after lunch, he and I were sitting in the breakfast nook playing chess. Lora, having agreed to join little Carol in the swimming pool, emerged from the bedroom area wearing a thick white one-piece swimsuit that did nothing to improve my low opinion of her figure. She was carrying a plastic clothes basket filled with clothes to be washed. She placed it down near the patio door to attend to Dennis, who had just arrived on his bicycle with a bloody scrape on his knee.
Ronny went to look at his brother's injury. Lora turned to me, saying, "Jack, could you put that clothes basket on the washing machine? I've got to wash those clothes as soon as I find time."
With a nod I agreed and carried the basket to their utility room, placing it on the washer. I cast a brief glance at the clothes. And there they were. Lying on Carol's sundress was a pair of Lora's white panties. I wish that I could say they were silk, or trimmed in lace, or designed to be sexy and enticing, but again I would be lying. They were just a cheap pair of women's Sears-Roebuck panties. Like Lora herself, they were mundane and unpretentious, serving no other purpose than to cover a woman's genitals and her butt.
But the thought that Lora had just now taken off these panties to don her bathing suit intrigued me. Do they still hold her body heat? I wondered. The thought was father to the deed. With a backward glance to make sure that no one was looking, I took the panties and held them to my cheeks and indeed felt the warmth of Lora's body still present in the rayon/cotton blend.
But the panties held more. My nostrils became filled with the intoxicating scent of a woman's cunt, musky and mysterious. Yes, there was the faint scent of urine as well, but the wonderful aromas emanating from those panties, in sum, were more fragrant that the rarest perfume. I've got to have these panties, I thought. I must have them. In less time than it takes to say, I stuffed them into a pocket of my khaki slacks and hurried to the guest bedroom. By the time I closed the door, I realized to my astonishment that I had the fullest erection of my young life.
So hard and throbbing was my cock that I had no choice but to undo my pants and give my cramped member some room. I could not resist holding Lora's panties to my face again, which act caused a spot of pre-cum to appear on my Hanes tighty-whities. Jesus, what's happening? I thought.
Now, it must be made clear that I was not at the time a sexual novice. I had had sex with a total of one girl, several times even. But nothing in my previous experience even remotely approached the intensity of pure carnal lust that now surged through me like a river at flood stage. And triggered by nothing more than a housewife's panties.
Ronny, calling my name, interrupted my sexual reverie. I frantically thrust my treasure under the mattress, zipped up my pants, and opened the door. Please don't let him notice my bulge, I prayed.
And he did not. "Hey, you wanna go for a swim?" he grinned. "Get your trunks on, and I'll see you at the pool."
The passion in my manhood had mostly subsided by the time I changed into my loose trunks and came to the pool, where Lora had put out cold bottles of Coke with straws in them for us. But my worst fears were quickly realized. As soon as I saw her, sitting on the edge of the pool messing around with Carol, my cock once again leaped like a baying hound on a leash. I now desired my roommate's mother with complete unbridled lust.
Afraid that the ever-growing bulge in my trucks would embarrass me and perhaps frighten little Carol, I leaped into the pool and stayed there most of the afternoon. I kept telling myself, dammit, this is the same ordinary, fading housewife you've been around for the past three days. But it made no difference to my cock. She was the source of those divine womanly aromas in the panties. That was all it cared about.
Somehow I made it through supper. That night Ronny and I went to the drive-in on a double date with Kathy and Sandra. Kathy was cute, she smelled sweet and clean, and I tried to transfer my daylong sexual yearnings to her. But to no avail. She was not Lora.
When I was at last back in the guest room ready for bed, I indulged myself in one last face full of Lora's panties. The aroma was fading, but my cock swelled nonetheless. Just then a thought occurred to me. I held the panties under the desk lamp and examined the crotch. And there lay more treasure, not one but four strands of Lora's pubic hair. I picked up and rolled each between my fingers in reverence. I finally put them into a small envelope that went into my wallet, where they remain to this day.
I was still jittery the next morning, and now Lora's nose was up. Occasionally I caught her eyeing me curiously. My only consolation was that no one else in the family seemed aware of my transformation from Joe College to shameless housewife addict.
And that night the little voice came. "Go ahead and do it," came the cunning whisper, "you know you want to." I tried to resist, honest, but the voice persisted. "It will only take a minute or two, and no one will ever know." I was weak. It was futile to resist.
I took the panties from under the mattress, and then removed my T-shirt and tighty-whities. Already my cock was awakening, and the feel of Lora's panties as they glided up my legs was beyond bliss. I drew the panties over my cock and for a few seconds caressed it through the smooth material. Of course the inevitable began to happen. As my cock throbbed I hastily pulled down the panties, desperate to avoid sullying their feminine purity with my tawdry cum.
I held my own shorts over my manhood to keep from spraying cum all over the guest bedroom, a definite faux pas. At once came the sweetest, most intense climax of my life. I seemed to gush for endless moments. Electricity surged delightfully through me down to my toes and back. Although Houston is a large city, I am certain that no one residing there that night experienced the level of pure sexual ecstasy that I did. And triggered by nothing more than a housewife's panties.
The next day I made a resolution: you can beat this. Look at her skin, I thought, it's kinda coarse, not very smooth or silky. But to no avail. I desired her all the more. But what about her chin that's somewhat receding, and that too-prominent nose? Who cares, I want this woman. The more I tried to find fault with Lora, the more captivating she became. The truth was now plain: my obsession with her was as irrational as it was intense.
