A Long Wig But Still Not Much Hair

I looked at myself, with just a bit of pride. I guess I've still got it, I thought to myself. As busy as I am with my demanding job, my MBA program classes, and house where something always seemed to need repair, I still appreciated the occasional gaze from a man, even if I truly had no time or interest at the moment. Earlier today, I was at the supermarket with my 19-year-old daughter, and one of her friends who worked there asked if I was her sister. It was one of those days where a simple compliment put a little smile on my face.

It was an emotional moment too. My daughter was in her very first semester of college, and had come home for a Halloween party, her first visit since she had left. And she was going back home tonight. And other than a few special moments, she had spent the entire visit completely pre-oocupied with her friends and the party. And later this evening, my baby would be heading back to school. That alone was going to be hard. I had forgotten how much I missed her.

At least my daughter had included me one night, where they were trying on their Halloween costumes. I got some serious laughs when I broke out the old blonde wig I had kept from my college days. As much as it looked hilariously good, I was happy to have chosen a practical short hair for the past 20 years. But still. I felt sexy. And slutty. Either times have changed, or I had just not realized how slutty the wig looked. But hey, it was Halloween.

But today was also a few days away from that time of the month, that moment in time where a woman sees a double chocolate chocolate-chip cake and knows she has to have it. Then she also goes to the ice-cream aisle and buys chocolate-chocolate chip ice cream to accompany the cake. It was going to be hard enough watching my daughter drive away. Add a little bit of hormones to the mix, that twitch down there after the compliment, it was going to be an emotional and hormone driven couple of days. I jotted down "AA Batteries" on the grocery list. This wouldn't be a good time to not have batteries.

It wasn't helping that my daughter and her friends had spent so much time at the house. Normally when the hormones kick in like this, I need a little private time where I slip my little egg vibrator in my laser smooth pussy to clear my head. I still liked how my pussy looked all bald. It was over ten years ago that I blew a bunch of money on laser hair removal to be sexy for my ex, my daughter's father. Such a waste, how long it had been since anything but my vibrators saw it. Like I said, I was busy. And being only about once a month where the hormones made me a little crazy, I guess chocolate, more chocolate, and my egg vibrator did the trick.

---

Amber and I did have a nice morning though, shopping and doing little chores in preparation for her drive home. In a bit, her two best friends, Savannah and Chris would be arriving to load up the car and driver her the three hour drive off to her college. They were also starting college, but the two of them were staying in town, attending the local commuter college, only my daughter was going away. I had already dealt with the disappointment of not being the one to drive Amber back to school. She wanted her two friends to drive her up, instead of me. I suppose that was why I picked up the three-pound bag of mini-chocolate bars while we were out shopping.

They were a cute little clique together. Amber, my gorgeous daughter, who grew up with a good head on her shoulders, but had very suddenly transformed from tall and gangly to tall and stunning. Savannah, who had always been an exotic beauty, but the boys her own age had been too stupid to notice how gorgeous she was until just now. And Chris, who was just so damned nice and helpful, a good-looking young man really, except he seemed to have a knack of seeming almost invisible. I always thought to myself that it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

Amber had always joked about her friend Chris, that she thought he was gay. I could tell he wasn't, based on the way he always hung around. I used to sometimes chuckle to myself at what an ass-kisser he was, always offering to help clean up or cook. Then I would feel guilty. Why would being well mannered and well-bred be something that counted against him? If all young men were more like Chris, the world would be a better place. I was glad for Chris and Savannah though, my daughter had two very good, lifelong friends. I should be so lucky.

---

Amber had been up all night the night before, (and the night before that, and the night before that too) having a last night out with her friends. It caught up with her, and she said she was going to go upstairs for a quick nap. It was a great Idea, I told her I'd wake her up when her friends came over.

Chris was the first to arrive, right on time of course. I knew that when Chris and Savannah said they would get to the house at a certain time, that if they drove separately Chris would be right on time, and Savannah would be an hour late. And when they drove together, they'd both be an hour late, of course, due to Savannah. When that happened Chris would say all the right things and apologize profusely, without blaming Savannah. I don't know what got into me, but I decided to have a little fun with poor Chris.

"O.K., Chris, 'fess up. Who is it? Amber, or Savannah?"

"Umm. Wh.. What?" Chris stammered.

"I know you're not gay, Chris. And I see you always here, but you never make a move or ask either of the girls out. I want to help you Chris, you don't need to be so shy. The one thing I can't tell, is it Amber or Savannah you have a crush on?"

After a long pause, he responded. "Umm." Poor Chris, I was embarrassing the hell out of him. I started to feel bad. He exhaled. A long, protracted exhale. With no idea what to say.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I really want to help though. You're just too nice Chris.

"I'm not gay Mrs. P." He always called me Mrs. P.

"I know that Chris. Amber jokes about it, but it's not that you look or act gay. I think she's just wondering why you never make a move on her or on Savannah. Maybe she's even offended." I joked.

"I know. I just..." Poor kid couldn't seem to get any words out. "It's just. It's Hugh Mrs. P."

"Hugh? Who's Hugh? You just said you weren't gay. Who the hell's Hugh?"

"Oh god." Chris was babbling again. Another long pause. He looked at my neck. My forehead. At some blank object behind my head. No eye contact. "I didn't say Hugh, Mrs. P. I said it's you. You. Like 'Y', 'O', 'U', you, not 'H', 'U', 'G', 'H'. " Another awkward pause, followed by a hurried "It's you." He looked like he was going to cry.

Suddenly, everything I thought I knew in this world came crashing down around me. Instead of patting myself on the back for being so smart and so observant, for being the one who always knew what was going on, I suddenly realized I had been absolutely and completely blind to something, that in hindsight, was so obvious. It was always me he followed around, offering to help, offering to clean. It was me he was the ass-kisser to. It was me he always seemed to be looking at, me he always had compliments for. How could I have been so oblivious for so long?

Then the laughter happened. I don't know why. I was flattered. I was probably laughing at myself more than him, at how blind I had been. I burst out laughing uncontrollably, loud belly-laughs. It was one of the best laughs I had had in years. Even as I noticed the look of despair on his face, even as I said, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh," I couldn't stop laughing. Poor Chris.

"Listen Chris." I said as I started regaining my composure. "I promise it's not you I'm laughing at. It's me. I just had no idea. And I always think to myself that I'm observant. It's very flattering. A nineteen-year-old boy... I mean, man... Man... Liking an old lady like me." I was still laughing a bit as I eked those words out. I just couldn't help myself. Why the hell was my pussy twitching?

"You're not old Mrs. P. You and Amanda have the same body. And I can promise you, all the boys in class for as long as you've been around check you out too. But you're so nice. It's not just what you look like Mrs. P." He was speaking so sincerely.

I couldn't figure out what it was. The hormones? The laughing? Or was it Chris? I decided it had to be the laughing, but my pussy was now vigorously pulsating inside my too tight jeans. But just then, Amanda came down the stairs, she had woken up, probably from my laughing. And suddenly, the house went crazy in a bustle of activity, since Savannah arrived too. My moment of one on one time with Chris was over, and the car was being packed. And within an hour, my little girl was gone. I had begged them to start the journey early tomorrow, but they insisted on getting there one day early, so Amber could pick the better side of her dorm-room.

I actually had both Chris and Savannah's numbers already, but I had insisted on getting their numbers again, so that they could keep me posted on the drive. I decided to send Chris a text message. "Chris, I'm very sorry I laughed. Even though it's out of the question, I am flattered that you like an old lady like me. You're very sweet. Thank you."

"I'll write back later, OK?" was all he said. I put the two and two together, that they three of them always asked who was texting, so he probably didn't want to have to explain. I decided against even replying 'OK' myself, knowing it would be yet another text he would have to explain.

---

I was tired after the long and emotional day too. And of course, as a parent, worried about my daughter on a three-hour drive on an interstate where they were probably driving at 80 miles per hour. I paced around the house, cleaning things that were already clean. An hour into the drive, Amber texted. "Chris said I have to tell you the drive is going well, we're doing fine." I still obsessively walked around, picking things up, cleaning, whatever I could do. Two hours later, it wasn't Amber who wrote, it was Chris. "We've arrived, all safe and sound. Moving Amber's stuff in now." This was the relief I needed, knowing she had made it.

I decided to take a big slice of chocolate cake with me up to my bedroom, wolf it down, and lie down. Except as I put the plate on my bedside table, the hormones decided to have another talk with me. "Put that egg vibrator in me!", my Pussy said to me. I suddenly realized my pussy had been moist for hours, it seemed. Why? I didn't think too much, I was in a state. And the newfound freedom, the empty house. I didn't have to get up to lock the bedroom door and turn on the TV. I laid back in bed with the bedroom door wide open. I wiggled out of my jeans, got my egg vibrator out, and parted my legs wide open, facing the bedroom door, and slipped it in, the little wire off to the side, and using my middle finger, softly swirled my clit. Normally, it takes a while for my elusive orgasm to happen, but this time, within 30 seconds, my pussy went crazy, my whole body tingled, and I had one of the best O's I had had in years. And why was I thinking about Chris? Why was I wishing he would walk in right now through the open door and see my smooth, bald pussy and my wide-open legs and my wet fingers slipping in and out of my pussy? Why was I erotically popping my fingers into my mouth, knowing how much that sight turns men on? This was crazy.

And why was I still rubbing my clit? I tend to be a one and done woman, where the tension and release is so profound, I usually don't want any more, I just lie back in a happy daze. But this time, I still had the egg in my pussy. And I was still softly penetrating myself with my middle fingertip. And yes. I was still thinking about Chris. And in under a minute, I was having another orgasm.

And I wasn't done. I tugged the egg out of my pussy by the cord. It dropped to the bed between my ass cheeks. And I kept rubbing my clit with my middle finger, wiggled a little to position myself, and I grabbed the egg with my left hand, and pushed it into my ass. And I orgasmed again. And still, I was imagining Chris. What was going on? Hormones, I said to myself. It's gotta be the hormones. I basked in the pleasure of the moment for a couple minutes, and next thing I knew, I was waking up in a panic at 2 a.m., the old parent's radar, where you somehow know a phone call is potentially something bad. Thankfully, it was just a text from Chris, saying that he and Savannah were back home and safe. I replied "Ok, thanks for writing me."

But what was that weird itch in my ass? Oh my god, I realized I had fallen asleep with the egg vibrator still in my ass. It was a bit sore, but at the same time, something about it felt nice. "Damn." I thought to myself, as the hormones took control again. "Listen Chris." I wrote back. "We need to talk. Can you come over?"

I felt guilty. "We need to talk," is rarely if ever a good preface to a conversation. I felt empowered though, even a little guilty toying with him. At the same time, the things I was thinking and the things I was feeling, Chris would be more than remunerated for the teasing he was getting.

"I can come right now," he replied. I was glad he said that.

"Good. Come over here now. Ring the doorbell so I know when you arrive, and let yourself in. Go sit in the video game chair and wait for me." For the uninitiated, video game chairs are usually very low chairs that look a little like race-car seats, but no legs, and often (like Amber's) they have no armrests, and they can rock back on forth on a curved base. I still felt bad about the "we have to talk" part, but I wanted to keep him guessing.

"OK. I'm about five minutes away. Is everything OK?" he replied.

I chastised myself for being such a bitch. No. This time I deserved the "c" word for teasing poor Chris so much. "Just come over. Sit and wait for me," I replied. Why was this making my pussy pulsate? I needed to get up and get ready, but the egg vibe was still in my ass. I knew it might be a struggle to get it out easily having possibly dried out a bit from me falling asleep with it. I leaned over and had to root around way in the back of my drawer to find the lubricant. "Damn." I thought to myself, since I hadn't used it in years, it was way in the back. I squeezed a little onto my left fingertip and reached down to slip my finger into my ass, to lube it up so that I could pull the vibe out. Except the damn hormones. I said, "Well, I might as well turn it on, right?" And next thing I knew, I was rubbing my clit with my right hand, vibrating my ass, and even slipping my left middle finger into my lightly lubricated ass too. And again, an orgasm in record time. Except now I really had to rush.

I ran downstairs and unlocked the front door. Then back upstairs to my room. I had to take a quick shower. And oh god, I hadn't shaved my legs in weeks. I was hairy. There wasn't enough time for everything. And oh dammit, there's the doorbell. Chris is downstairs already. And my room is right above the TV room where Chris is sitting. If I shower, he'll hear the water running. I decided a moist towel was best, I would wipe myself down rather than shower and have Chris hear the shower. My evil side thought, maybe I should shower, let him hear it and know I was naked upstairs. I was about to, when I realized I needed to get my leg shaving done. I did a reasonably fast job with my electric shaver, then completed my wipe-down with the wet towel.

"Turn the chair to face the window," I texted. This would mean he would be facing completely away from the entry to the TV room. I looked through my lingerie collection, deciding what to wear. I only had a few things, including my favorite, basically a short slip, which I liked just because I knew it was always one waft of air away from showing off my pussy and ass. But at the same time, I was already in a state, and as I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror and admired how I looked naked, I decided that naked it would be.

I tiptoed down the stairs, successfully avoiding the rung two from the bottom that creaked, and I gingerly peeked around the corner. I saw that as instructed, he had turned the chair to face the window, so in theory, he didn't know I was there. Earlier, the chair had been closer to the desk, I had planned on standing over the chair with one foot resting up on the desk to get my pussy licked by Chris, but the new position made that not possible anymore. But the hormones had a better idea.

I felt like a ninja, as I walked so completely quietly into the room. All those years of ballet certainly didn't hurt either, and Chris had no idea I was in the room. No idea that is, until I walked up next to the chair, and my climbed in front of him, my back to him. Then I leaned forward, planted my palms on the floor, and backed my pussy up to his mouth and ground my pussy in his face, his nose from this angle tucked in between my cheeks. I wasn't sure if he'd know what to do, and in fact, he stuck his tongue right into my very moist pussy, which although it felt good, wasn't what he needed to do. I stretched myself a bit higher and put my clit in between his lips. I decided I was the MILF, he was my younger admirer, and he needed a little help. "Suck. Not too hard. But suck." He politely obliged and started sucking my clit.

He wasn't exactly sucking it in the right way, so again, a little wiggling of my ass, I got the right part of my clit into his mouth and said "Right there. Yes. Right there." It was a little extra naughty too, because by positioning my clit right against his lips from the angle I was at in relation to him, I knew my asshole was pressed directly against his nostrils. I was torn between "I hope it doesn't smell bad to him", "I hope he doesn't mind", "I don't fuckin' care," and "I hope he licks me there afterwards."

I was in such a state, there wasn't going to be anything that was going to stop this orgasm from happening, but he started feeling up my leg as he sucked my clit. I maintained my balance but raised my right palm for a moment to lightly smack his hand. "Just suck." I said. I didn't say it in a mean way. My voice was soft. But firm. He obediently stopped and focused on his clit sucking. I felt my ankles trembling to maintain my position, especially as the orgasm started to build. The point came where I knew it was happening, and the tingling over every inch of my body hit me, and I felt my pussy quivering and pulsating in his lips. I knew my pussy was now intensely wet and I could feel the wetness on his chin. I didn't shift yet, I had to let the waves of pleasure subside, and for my head to come back down to earth, then I gave him his reward. "OK, now stick your tongue deep in my pussy, suck it, lick it, stick your tongue deep in it." He hungrily obliged, I could tell he was relishing in my very wet pussy.

Over the years, I had heard it so many times, I won't say from so many men, but the enthusiasm they portrayed, I knew my pussy made men happy. He tongued it hungrily, eagerly, and having had such a satisfying O, I decided to bask in the pleasure, and let him get his fill. It did feel good, and I wondered how he was enjoying the tip of his nose pressed right into my tight little asshole. He certainly didn't seem to be shying away from it.

But all good things must come to an end. My legs and elbows were getting tired from the position, and they were starting to even shake a bit. I crawled forward, to be in front of him, on my hands, elbows and knees, thinking it might be nice for him to enter me from behind.

Well, it was nice, and he did enter me from behind. Except in this case, it was by sticking his tongue straight into my asshole. I guess he liked it after all. I certainly had no complaints. I generally had to be in a naughty mood, when it came to sticking things up my ass, and I certainly was as feeling naughty today.