"Betty is going to be dropping off a package for me around 11:00. Will you answer the door and put the package on the kitchen table for me?" Michele called to her son.
"Sure, no problem," Pat called from upstairs.
Pat was George and Michele's 20-year-old son who was home during a break between his first and second semester in college. He had grown into a nice looking young man, standing nearly 6'2" and weighing 200lb. He had nicely trimmed dark brown hair and deeply set blue eyes. He kept himself in shape by working out daily at the college health and fitness center.
Betty Wilson, a long friend of Michele's was 49, and had been divorced for nearly six years. Even though she was more than twice his age, Pat had often fantasized about having sex with Betty. She was a petite woman, standing only 5'2" and weighing less than 115lb. Despite her small stature her breast size was a full 36D. She kept her auburn hair trimmed short, and with her black rimmed glasses, she always reminded Pat of a prim and proper school librarian. Pat was convinced this was part of the turn on for him. During the past six years or so Betty would often drop by George and Michele's house once or twice a week. And during her visits Pat would try to sneak peeks of her thighs as she crossed and uncrossed her legs and adjusted her skirt while sitting on the couch. She often wore her semi-transparent white blouse revealing her bra and well-formed breasts would drive Pat nearly crazy. More often than not, after, or even during these visits, Pat would make an excuse and rush upstairs to his bedroom and lock the door. With Betty's image planted squarely in his mind, he would slide out of his pants, and after just a few furious strokes on his cock, would cum what seemed like gallons.
Now he was a sophomore in college and living on campus. And though he had been involved with two or three girls his same age, all of it consisted of just heavy petting. He was still a virgin. And to be honest, during more than one of those heavy petting sessions, he closed his eyes and imagined the girl he was with was Betty. Was it normal to fantasize about an older woman? If not, he didn't care. Betty had provided him with many nights of orgasmic ecstasy. The thought of seeing Betty again after a 3-month hiatus was arousing, even if it was just for a moment as she dropped off the package for his mom. I have a package I'd like to give her, he thought, and smiled.
It was only 9:00am and Betty wasn't due to arrive for another two hours. He couldn't wait that long. He searched in his closet for his stash of porn videos and selected one. No one was home, his father was out of town on business, and his mom wouldn't return before 4pm. Why not just watch it on the wide screen downstairs, he thought. Pat finished unpacking his clothes and took a shower. He dried off and figured he could forgo any clothes. He admired his body in the mirror, his cock began to expand a little with the anticipation he held in his hand. He gave it a few strokes and headed downstairs with the video.
It was 9:25. That gave him plenty of time to watch the video, jerk off, get dressed and hopefully be able to answer the door without a raging hard on pointing at Betty as he received the package. He put the video in, rewound it, and hit the play button. He fixed himself a coke, and then walked back upstairs to get a small jar of vaseline from his parent's bathroom to assist him. He could hear the faint sound of moaning coming from the downstairs television.
"Damn, where is it?" Pat said aloud, as he rummaged through four or five drawers. After searching for several minutes, he found the jar sitting almost directly in front of him on the sink counter.
"Finally" he muttered, as he took the jar and a towel, then headed back downstairs.
As Pat came down the stairs, he caught the faint smell of something familiar. It was perfume, but not his mother's. At the bottom of the stairs he stopped. He found the source of the perfume . . . Betty. She was standing just beyond the foyer no more than three or four steps inside the family room. She was staring at the television. When Pat saw her, he tried to turn quickly and run back up the stairs. Then he heard her voice.
"Pat?" Pat tried unsuccessfully to wrap the towel around his waist and hide the vaseline.
"Mrs. Wilson, I . . ." he stammered. He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. He dropped the towel to the floor. He was standing in front of his fantasy with a hard on pointing directly towards her. He was able to pick up the towel.
"Pat, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were home. I told your mother I would be dropping off a package for her at 10:00 this morning." Evidently Pat's mom had misunderstood.
"The door was unlocked so I . . . I'm sorry." Pat was caught with a porno video playing right in front of his mom's friend, and not only that, but it was the woman he had secretly fantasized about for years. And he was standing directly in front of her wearing nothing at all but a smile and holding a jar of vaseline only partially hidden by the towel he was holding.
