Fact And Fantasy Ch 01 Pt 1

I've been writing stories on this site since 2007, and while some of them contain bits about my sex life, what follows is more about the real me, fact and fantasy. Over the coming chapters you'll read about real men that I know. Some I have had sex with, and some I have not and don't wish to, but I have fantasies about all of them. The categories will change with different stories, and where fact becomes fantasy, maybe just after a couple of lines, or it might all be fact.

I work in a department store in England, I'll change the name to York's, and the names of the people in the story to protect the innocent, and not so innocent.

The first fact and fantasy story is in two parts, and others will follow at some point in the future.

Sylvia.

.......................................

Last March, Jan asked me to look after her son while she went on holiday. Jan and I work together in a large department store in the south of England. Jan was worried that while she and her husband were away, her son wouldn't be able to look after himself. Personally I think it was just laziness on Sam's part, but in the past she had looked after my house when I went on holiday, so I couldn't really say no. She only lived a few doors down from my house, so watering the plants, and checking up on the house was easy enough, so I agreed. Sam moved into my house to make things easier. Sam is 18, and quite a quiet sort of boy.

On the third day of looking after Sam, I slipped my shoes off and left them inside front door. I hadn't called out to Sam, but I could hear him moving about upstairs. It troubled me, because it sounded like he was in my bedroom.

I climbed the stairs as quietly as I could, and there I saw Sam, he was knelt down by the bed, his jeans pushed down to his knees, and what looked like a pair of panties pressed between his legs. His eyes were closed, and he was inhaling deeply, in his other hand he had a pair of tights pressed to his nose.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Should have come from my mouth, but it didn't. I just stood there a little shocked, but not surprised. I backed away from the door and went downstairs. I slammed the front door and shouted out I was home. I heard him scurrying around, and then he called out he was getting changed, in rather a flustered voice.

I went to my bedroom and walked over to where he had been knelt. The purple and black lacy panties, and the mink coloured tights, had been the same ones I had worn to work the previous day. I sat on the bed and just stared at my underwear on top of the washing basket where he had put them back. Part of me wanted to throttle the little shit, but deep down I knew I hadn't exactly been totally innocent in all of this. Sitting there on the bed I started to remember all of the times Sam would take sneaky glances at my legs.

The first time I noticed Sam watching my legs was when I went to Jan's for a coffee one day. Harry, Jan's husband was there that afternoon, and he said, "You are the prettiest single woman I know," he said this in front of Jan, and we all laughed about it, even Sam had sly grin on his face. But I don't think Harry's wife would laugh, if she knew he had stopped to pick me up one day, when I was walking home from work, and then helped him self to a feel.

I sat next to him in the car and adjusted my skirt, he said, "Don't make a fuss on my account."

I laughed it off, but I knew he was leering at my cleavage and legs. When he changed gear his hand left the gear knob, and rested on my thigh. We were at the end of our road when this happened, so I kept quiet, but I'm sure he knew my body had stiffened, as his hands touched my knee, and then he patted it twice. When he dropped me off at home he fed the seatbelt over my breasts, and his knuckles grazed across my nipple.

He said, "I'll take you to work and back everyday. Hell, I wouldn't even charge you petrol money."

He chuckled when I got out of the car with a bright red face.

As soon as I got behind my front door I slammed it shut, locked it, and leant against it. All I could picture was his hand on my knee, and his grinning face with beads of sweat over his top lip. How he thought he would take me to work, whilst making his wife walk was beyond me. Although in my head I started imaging it happen. I guess over the weeks just a grope of my breast or thigh wouldn't be enough. How long before he wanted to finger my pussy, or ask me for a hand job. It wouldn't be long before I'd suck him off right in front of the store.

As I pressed myself back against the door, and with my fingers doing their magic in my tights and panties I came really hard.

Obviously now you realise how things like what he said and did in the car got me all hot and bothered. This is me, I've always been like this, and while the fantasy turned me on, there's no way it would happen for real. I have to draw the line somewhere, although even where that line is drawn surprises me sometimes.

I put the above experience down to what I call my humiliation kink, or H kink. It is what a lot of my stories are about, being put in situations like that even without any sex involved will turn me on maybe a few hours or days later.

The truth in the bit about Harry is he did pat my knee, and what he said in front of Jan and Sam. The rest is down to my H kink and my fantasy. So now you understand how this works, I hope? Below is a mix of fact and fantasy, but which is which I'm not going to tell.

So as I said, I go round for coffee sometimes with Jan. On one particular occasion I noticed Sam looking at me. I was sat on the sofa with my legs crossed, and my skirt was up my thigh. Sam was sat on the floor watching telly, and when I looked out of the corner of my eye, his head was facing the telly, but his eyes were looking at my legs. Jan was there in the room too, we were chatting, and I'm sure she was oblivious to her son's eyes leering at me. I felt a little uncomfortable, but as with what happened the day in the car with Harry, it started waking up the teasing bitch in me.

Jan went to the kitchen with the empty cups, and I got up to leave. Sam had stayed sat on the floor. I turned with my back to him, and then smoothed my tight navy work skirt down over my rear, and down the back of my legs. Then I bent forward to pick my bag up off the floor, and I'm sure Sam got a look up my skirt.

From that day on I knew going round to Jan's would give Sam a thrill if he was in, especially when I was wearing short skirts as I normally do. Sometimes the attention would be a little creepy, but sometimes I would think, okay have a look, and have whatever little fantasies you have about me. One thing is for sure, it'll never be anymore than that.

Over the months teasing both father and son, but especially Sam, was easy. Harry was more open with his leering, I guess because he knew I hadn't mentioned the day in the car to Jan. Sitting on Jan's couch, dangling my shoe from my toes had both father and son hooked.

Okay it was probably cruel on Jan, but she wasn't exactly nice about me to her friends behind my back. Then again I guess part of that I deserved, so I figured right or wrong that a little prick teasing was okay. Incidentally, some of what I had been told that Jan had said about me was true.

One of the best looks Sam must have got was when I went to Jan's house to borrow her black jacket for a wedding evening do. I was wearing a red mini dress which flared out at the hem, and it flicked and swirled around my thighs with every step I took. Sam's face was almost as red as my dress when he saw me. I followed Jan upstairs, and I knew Sam had followed us quietly to the hall. I wondered what he thought of my black seamed tights, with little silver bows on the ankles, and my black high heeled shoes. Not to mention my purple panties which he would have seen, as the hem of my dress flicked and teased with every step I took up the stairs. The panties had been the same purple panties that he had been rubbing over his cock when I caught him.

Oh I never did wear Jan's jacket to the wedding, because my own black jacket was better.

In the past I had also noticed Sam following me to work on his bike sometimes, before he had started working at the store. I know he had been watching me walking home from work from his bedroom window too, and it's amazing how often he seemed to be walking down the road when I went to the corner shop. As we passed I didn't need to turn round to know he was staring back at me. He isn't the only guy to watch me like that, there is a guy I meet most days when I walk to work, but I'll save my fantasy about him for another day.

An hour after I had seen Sam fiddling with my underwear I went upstairs again. I stood in his bedroom doorway, watching him for a few seconds. As I said part of me wanted to have a go at him, but teasing him a little more seemed to be appealing to me.

I cleared my throat and asked, "Sam, have you got any washing?"

He looked around the room, and grabbed a shirt. He came towards me with it, and placed it on the washing basket I was holding. I watched his eyes. He saw my tights and panties sticking out from below a red top, and his eyes lingered on them a little longer than they should have done.

An hour later I asked him to hang the washing out for me while I made tea. He looked stunned for a moment, and then he nodded. I watched through the kitchen window as he pegged the washing out. When he came back in I noticed a slight bulge in his jeans, nothing major, but it was a bulge. I wasn't sure whether it was my panties, tights, or stockings which he hung out that caused it. Maybe it was one of my push up bras, or maybe my red suspender belt. I'm sure as he pegged my clothing onto the line, he would have imagined me wearing them.

I guess we all have fantasies, and Sam had them about me, but did my friend's 18 year old son really want to fuck me, a 32 year old woman?

He came home around 10 that night, and later I knocked on his bedroom door and pushed it open. He was sat at his computer, and his eyes darted to me as I placed his hot chocolate down and sat on his bed. I crossed my legs making sure the nylon rubbed together. His head turned slightly, and then stopped, it was almost like he was going to glance at my legs, and then thought he shouldn't.

"What are you doing on your computer?"

"Oh, just, things," he replied.

"I see. Are you busy tomorrow?"

He looked at me, trying to guess what I was going to say, and then he answered, "No, not really, why?"

"Good, then you can help me."

"Oh, okay. What to do exactly?"

"My kitchen sink is blocked again. I'd like you to help unblock it."

He nodded, and I got up and left him.

The next day when he came down stairs, I was stood at the cooker making breakfast. I pretended not to notice him. I could feel his eyes running up from my black court shoes with a 4 inch heel, up my legs encased in barely black tights, and up my thighs to my tiny blue denim miniskirt.

At one stage I reached behind me and scratched the back of my thigh under the hem of my skirt, knowing it would rise up slightly, showing the lower curve of my backside. When I returned my hand to the cooker the denim material was so stiff I knew it hadn't fallen back into place. I'm sure Sam would have had a glimpse of my panties, if I had been wearing any.

It was nearly half a minute before he said anything, "Good, morning," he seemed to say with difficulty.

I replied and told him to sit at the table. He did, in the chair which was facing the cooker. I turned round and reached across the length of the table with his breakfast. His face was already red, and he couldn't stop himself from glancing at my cleavage. I wore a white vest top, without a bra. I knew he'd be able to see the darkness of my nipples.

I moved to the kettle and poured him a coffee, and again reached across the table. I was humming to myself, as I stretched. This time Sam's eyes couldn't help but stare at my soft white mounds, which were held in place by only the thin, tight, fabric of my vest top, and did little to flatten my nipples.

I carried on humming to myself ignoring his stare and his red face. I moved round the kitchen tidying this and cleaning that while he ate his breakfast. I knew his eyes followed me sometimes, and I guess he was getting a little turned on.

I sat in my kitchen chair sipping a coffee, as just a few feet away, Sam was under the sink, lying on his back. I flicked through a magazine, giving him ample opportunity to stare at my crossed legs. I idly bounced my right leg at the knee, and now and then twisted my ankle in a circle, all the time making it appear to be just a normal almost unconscious act. He looked, I know he looked, but I made sure he didn't catch me noticing. The small wrinkles in my tights on my ankle appeared, and then disappeared each time I twisted my foot. At one point I reached down my shin and scratched my leg with my red painted finger nails. The sound was soft and rasping, but in the quiet of my kitchen, it would have easily reached Sam's ears.

I got up and walked to the sink, as Sam worked underneath it. My high heels clicked on the tiled floor, and I made sure my leg lightly touched against Sam's bare leg. Was he now regretting wearing shorts, or was the feel of my warm leg in nylon resting against his thigh, more than he could ever have wished for?

He jumped when I tipped the dregs of my coffee down the sink, quickly followed by the cold water from the tap.

"God, sorry Sam, I didn't think. Stay there I'll get a cloth."

I stepped over his thigh and stretched for the tea towel. I was now astride his groin. I crouched down, almost, but not quite, sitting astride him.

"Keep still and I'll wipe the water and coffee off your face."

With my legs either side of his body, and me being crouched down, I'm sure Sam could see right up my tight little skirt. I wiped his face slowly cleaning off the coffee and water, which had gone down the plug and straight into his face, because the trap thing was off.

Again I pretended not to notice his eyes fixed up my skirt. I wiped his face and hair, and then down the front of his shirt, as I did so my hips moved a little, and I know I felt something sticking up in his shorts.

The only things stopping him penetrating me was my tights and his shorts!

I rocked back and forth, just grazing his hard lump on the crotch of my tights, as I reached forward cleaning his face again. I could feel his cock very lightly rubbing the crotch of my tights, so I guess it is safe to say he would have felt that too.

The light touches would have appeared to be accidental to him, but as I stood up and moved away, I noticed a slight wet patch discolouring his shorts. Was that precum from an 18 year old boy, who had just had his mum's 32 year old friend, the woman he fantasised about fucking, rubbing her nylon covered pussy over his cock?

"I'll find you a clean shirt," I said as I headed out the kitchen door, giving him a little time to calm himself down.

I went back down stairs after a few minutes. Sam was up from under the sink.

"It's all done, now," he mumbled.

"Thank you, now we should get this wet shirt off you."

Before he could offer any real resistance I was pulling it up from the bottom, up over his head and off.

I leant forward and to the side, reaching for the shirt I had brought down. My breasts brushed lightly across his bare chest, just briefly, but it didn't stop him from gasping a little. I bunched the shirt up and pushed it down over his head. He fed his arms in and I pulled it down to his waist. I was stood just a foot away from him, I smoothed my hands down the front of the shirt, from his shoulders down over his chest, letting my fingers lightly brush his nipples, and then down over his flat stomach.

All he lacked was confidence with girls, and I liked that, because it made teasing him easier.

"Whose shirt is this?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, my ex didn't leave anything. I think it belonged to Ben or Matt.....no wait, Gerry I think or Nathan, anyway it doesn't matter. I usually wear it in bed now anyway."

Before he could say another word I turned and left him standing there. Was he wondering about me wearing that very same tee shirt to bed?

I didn't see him for the rest of the day. I had teased him further than perhaps I should, and I didn't want to run the risk of him jumping on me, no that would never do. I felt quite satisfied with myself, at one point I even chuckled about him leering at me. My instincts were right, teasing him felt so good, and watching him squirm was fantastic.

Well, that was nearly six months ago, and since then Jan has got Sam a job in the department store where we both work, he's been there for a few months now. He does seem to spend far too much time in my department. Even one of the girls mentioned how Sam would be looking at me in an odd way. Although I told her I hadn't noticed, I knew very well that when I walked up the stairs from one department to the other, my little stalker was watching my ass and legs.

Once again Jan asked me to look after Sam, while she and Harry went away. They were looking into moving to Scotland, where Harry was probably being transferred to. Once again I agreed, after all it would only be for a couple of days.

"That's great, we'll only be away a couple of weeks," she said as she went to fill the kettle, "Thanks for doing this Sylvia, maybe you can come up for a holiday when we are settled?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," I replied not really meaning it, and still trying to get my head round why they would be gone longer than a few days.

Sam came down from upstairs at that moment, calling to his mother for a fresh shirt. His eyes met mine and he smiled at me. He still couldn't stop glancing down at my crossed legs, but now he was a little more open about doing it. He moved to the kitchen, and I heard Jan tell him that he would be staying with me for a couple of weeks.

Now I had seen Sam's naked chest for the second time, I was impressed. Some of the guys I've been with lately have beer bellies, and bigger tits than a few of my friends. Sam's chest was tight, his stomach was flat, and the weights in his bedroom, which Jan moaned about, seemed to be improving his muscles. He was fast losing that beanpole shape, and turning into a young man.

Jan had told me she didn't think he had ever had a girlfriend. I knew if he carried on with his weights, he'd soon have a few girls wanting to know him.

Sam was now different from the Sam I teased in my kitchen a few months ago.

He still didn't have any chance with me, but Sam was turning into a young man, and while he worked at the same place I did, I hadn't really noticed the change, until I saw that naked chest again.

Harry and Jan left for Scotland a few weeks later, and now I was alone with Sam for two weeks. I watched him out of my kitchen window as he cut my lawn. His bare back was tanned, and his legs looked strong in his shorts. Sam had started running and cycling and I knew he went to the gym after work now and then. I found myself taking in every detail of his body. The way his muscles tightened, as he pushed the lawn mower about, and when he bent to move an obstruction, had me imagining how I would love to dig my fingers in his ass, as he fucked me.

That night in bed I started toying with my breasts and pussy. My mind was full of Sam cutting the lawn naked, as I sat in a garden chair sipping wine with two of my friends. They would be jealous of my hunk, and passing comments about wishing they had a toy boy just like him.

I grabbed my vibrator, and teased my wet pussy. It soon turned into using my vibrator more urgently than I had done for a while. My orgasm was quite intense, and my head and pussy was a mess, with thoughts of teasing Sam with my crossed legs, and giving him a foot job, as he lay tied on my bed.