"Tim and his father come back tomorrow," Mrs. Tyler said with a gentle sigh as we lay by the pool. It was still early. The sun hadn't reached its zenith yet.
"I know," I said, my disappointment obvious in my tone.
"It's probably a good thing," she added with a smile. "We could probably both use the rest."
"We rested yesterday!" I protested.
"You had to spend the day at home. Your parents were starting to notice how much time you've been spending here."
"I know, I know," I nodded, not really agreeing, but understanding her rational.
"Besides," she said, smiling once more. "Some of us aren't as young as we used to be. We need more than twenty-four hours to recoup from the week we've shared."
"Bull!" I laughed. "If anyone needs a rest, it's me. I've barely been able to keep up with you!"
"Well then," she shrugged. "Be happy. You'll be getting a break soon enough."
"I said 'if anyone needs a rest', but neither of us does."
"But after tomorrow..." Marisa began.
"...we'll just have to be more circumspect," I finished.
"I know we thought we could keep this up, but it's not realistic," she said sadly.
"Sure it is," I insisted. "I'm leaving for college soon and my school is only an hour away. I'll be coming home often enough. Besides, there's a nice hotel in town. You'll have to come visit."
"You'll have coeds to play with by then," she argued. "You won't need me."
"I don't need you now," I said surprising her. "But I sure as hell want you! And I will until you chase me away."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Marisa asked.
"Please!" I snorted. "Word of your pending divorce is already starting to get around. Last night I overheard my father and Mr. Owens talking about the fact that you'd be back on the market soon."
"Frank Owens?" Marisa asked with a frown. He was a nice guy whose wife left him a couple of years before. "He's interested in me?"
"Of course he is! I keep trying to tell you, they're going to flock to your door."
"You're crazy!" she laughed.
"Maybe," I shrugged. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong. Pop and Mr. Owens decided that it would be smart to wait a respectable month after Mr. Tyler leaves before calling on you, but I'm betting Mr. Owens will be over before Mr. Tyler's car gets off the block!"
"Frank's not really my type," Marisa said thoughtfully.
"Sure he is," I insisted. "But even if he's not there will be others. My mother has been on the phone planning blind dates for you for almost week. She and her friends have every eligible bachelor lined up."
"The women of this neighborhood really need to learn to mind their business," Marisa said, sounding annoyed, but then she sighed and added, "I guess they're well meaning."
"You think so?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think what they're doing is in part out of kindness," I replied. "But I also think the married woman around here don't want a divorcee that looks like you in the neighborhood. It's too tempting to their 'happily' married husbands!"
"You are so bad!" Marisa laughed.
"Of course, none of them realize it's their sons they should worry about!" I joked.
"That's not really funny," she said with a frown. I shrugged. I knew she was sensitive about what happened, but that wasn't going to stop me from teasing her a little.
"Actually, what they really should be doing is lining up their sons to take lessons from you!" I laughed. "In fact, maybe their husbands too!"
"You bastard!" Mrs. Tyler cried, but a moment later she burst out in laughter. "You are going straight to hell!"
"Save me a spot," I retorted.
"If you keep this up, I'm going to send you home!" she threatened, but Marisa was still laughing.
"Wouldn't you rather see if I've learned what you spend the week diligently teaching me?" I asked, smiling knowingly. Mrs. Tyler looked into my eyes and hesitated before shaking her head.
"That's one thing I didn't teach you, but you picked it up anyway," she said.
"What?"
"The 'fuck me' look," she said, and then nearly giggled as she added, "Or in your case should I call it the "I going to fuck you' look?"
"Well?" I asked.
"Why don't we go inside?" she replied.
"I thought you'd never ask!" I cried, making my way to the ladder.
I got out of the pool and helped Marisa up the ladder. We took a moment to dry before going inside.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Your choice," she smiled. "We've done it in just about every room of the house this past week. Which was your favorite?"
"Hmm," I said rubbing my chin and trying hard not to laugh. "Let me think."
"Hard decision?" she asked.
"Well, the kitchen table was fun, but I don't think it will survive another go," I answered. "Tim's bedroom was a bit much."
"You didn't seem to mind at the time," Marisa grinned. I shrugged. She was right. I hadn't minded it at the time, but as hot as the idea of fucking Tim's mother in his bed was, I felt really guilty later.
"The garage and basement were enjoyable, but not really worth repeating," I said.
"How about the attic?" Marisa jokingly asked.
"I'm still itchy from the last time!" I laughed. A piece of the insulation fell on me during our session up there and made my sweaty back itchy as hell. It led to a quick shower. That was an idea! "How about the shower?"
"We just spent an hour in the pool. I'm not really in the mood," Mrs. Tyler replied. She saw me holding my towel and suddenly smiled seductively and grabbed it. "I'll throw these in the dryer while you decide."
It seemed odd to me, but I shrugged as she disappeared down the hall. I was still waffling on my decision when I realized that Mrs. Tyler was gone a lot longer than was necessary to throw two towels in the dryer. I frowned and made my way down the hall to the laundry room. I could hear the dryer going, but I could also hear Marisa moaning.
"Of course!" I said to myself, slapping my forehead. "We never did it in the laundry room!"
I entered the small room and saw Mrs. Tyler sitting on the dryer playing with herself. She looked at me and smiled sexily. My cock hardened instantly.
"My parents always thought it was cute that I used to lay on the dryer when I was young and fall asleep," she said. "But do you want to know the real reason why I used to fall asleep on it? Do you want to know why I sometimes still fall asleep on the dryer?"
"Sure," I shrugged, not sure where this was going.
"Do you promise not to tell anyone?" she asked. "I'd be mortified if anyone ever found out! I'm not sure why I'm telling you now." Marisa never stopped playing with herself as we spoke.
"Tell me," I said. "You know I won't tell anyone."
"Because the dryer vibrates and throw off a lot of heat," she groaned. "It's like one big vibrator! I had my first orgasm on my parents' dryer!" I stood silently shaking my head for a few moments.
"You do know you're one horny bitch?" I finally laughed.
"This week with you has reminded me of the fact," she giggled, despite her pending orgasm. "Now come here and finish me!"
"Yes, Mrs. Tyler," I said, causing her to frown.
Marisa said she didn't like it when I called her that, but I thought that her kinkier side did, and that was definitely the side in control if she was sitting on a dryer and thinking of it as a giant vibrator!
I leaned forward and replaced the fingers at her pussy with my tongue. After a week of almost constant sex I knew exactly what she liked. My tongue brushed up and down the length of her pussy a few times before I concentrated on her jutting clit. I reached up with one hand and squeezed her breasts very hard.
She normally preferred me to gently caress her tits, but not when I was working her clit with my tongue. Marisa liked me to squeeze hard then, so hard in fact, that I would never have done so without her insistence that first time.
"Oh yes!" she cried. "I'm so close!"
I used the fingers of my other hand and pushed two on them in just deep enough for her pussy to flex against them. That was all it took! Marisa came and drenched my fingers and mouth. I continued to lick her until she was done.
"No more!" she finally gasped. "I'm spent!"
"Just how spent are you?" I asked as I stood and dropped my bathing suit, letting my cock pop free. Mrs. Tyler took one look at me hard member and smiled.
"Not that spent!" she giggled. Her laughter quickly turned into a moan when I moved between her legs and pushed my rock hard cock deep into her pussy. Marisa wrapped her arms around my shoulders and hung on as started stroking on and out of her. I grabbed her thighs and held her on the edge of the dryer.
"So Mrs. Tyler, how does it feel to have an eighteen year old cock buried deep in your pussy?" I asked. "How does it feel to benefit from all those lessons you gave me this past week?"
"It feels so good!" she cried.
"I'm lucky that you decided to share your forty-five years of experience with me!" I groaned, shoving myself deep and picking up the pace significantly. I was surprised at how quick my orgasm was building. "Just think about how lucky my next girlfriend is going to be!"
"You want to know the truth?" she gasped out. Mrs. Tyler was close to another orgasm herself. "I ran out of real experiences after the second ort third day! I've been making it up as I go ever since!"
"In that case," I groaned. "You have some imagination!"
"Thanks!" she said between gritted teeth. She was really fighting her orgasm.
"Maybe you can use some more of that imagination later?" I prompted.
"Maybe!" she cried barely controlling her breathing. "Now shut up and cum with me! I want to feel your cock fill me!"
"Yes mam," I groaned. "One eighteen year old filling your tight and wet pussy with cum, right...about...NOW!"
I grunted and came hard. I literally lifted Mrs. Tyler off the dryer as my orgasm hit. She held on tight as she joined me. I could feel her pussy spasm along the length of my cock. My cock, balls and thigh were suddenly drenched in her juices.
