The Hand of Marc

My name is Jackie. I recently discovered Literotica while searching for answers on erotica in my own private life and behaviour. After reading a few stories on Literotica I decided to recount my own experiences as a method to get clarity for myself on my own experiences, values and norms. To me writing is therapeutic. It is like talking to a close friend and opening my heart, feelings and emotions. In the process I get perspective in my own mind on my own values, norms, likes and dislikes.

I am not a writer, nor do I want, or need to be one, but I am rather talking from my heart in an open letter to you. To those literary giants focusing on correct syntax, grammar, punctuation, etc., waiting to tear writers apart - everyone to her (his) own. Perhaps, one day when the kids are out of the house, I will try my hand at real writing. In the mean time, this is my letter, from the heart, talking to you as a person recounting true episodes in my own life. And just perhaps it will help someone getting an answer in their own lives, or even sharing the same experience with me without a guilt ride.

This is a true story about my own experiences recounted here.

***

To place all in perspective I should perhaps tell you first something about myself.

I'm in my late thirties and for a woman I'm rather tall, just under 6 feet. I am blessed with shoulder length golden blond hair that is streaked with natural highlights from the sun. But then again, I'm a sports coach at a local school and I'm outdoors in the sun most of the day with the result that I always have a bronze tanned skin, summer and winter. Being a sports coach I'm fit, with a flat stomach, even after two children, and have rather smallish buttocks – very unlike the latest fashion that the J-Lo posterior brigade dictates. Being a natural athlete, I have long shapely legs with good muscle tone. To me, my breasts are one of my better assets, full round and on the perky side with very responsive nipples, often to my embarrassment. The slightest brush against the 'ladies' sends shivers down my spine and my nipples react immediately. Therefore I usually wear a padded 36C bra to dampen the accidental touches a little and to hide my responsive nipples from public view. Contrary to what men believe, women are mostly shy and embarrassed when their nipples become erect and women usually want to hide it away from scrutiny. Perhaps I just have a very sensitive skin as I also break out in goosebumps easily. A slight wind blowing over my skin or a change in temperature and my legs are covered in goosebumps. Trying to hide my frequent goosebumps I'm clean shaven, all over - from my toes to my finger tips. I just love the velvety feel of my shaven soft tanned skin.

Even after fourteen years of marriage, and two children, I still enjoy sex with my husband. I'm also proud of my body and the fact that I'm in reasonable good shape. I also know that I can turn heads when in public with my blond hair and long legs ... and I suppose my perky breasts also. But I always dress modestly and have high moral values. I do not need to dress scantily to attract attention, or to feel good about myself. Actually, perhaps because of my length, blond hair, long legs, perky breasts and personality I have always attracted attention and got used to it over the years.

Although I consider myself adventurous in bed I never had the inclination, or desire, to make love to someone else than my husband. Yes, we have our fantasies and are quite naughty when we are alone or on holiday without the kids. Once we even took nude photographs of me on a lonely beach and got turned on so much that we couldn't wait to get back to the hotel and had beautiful and exquisite sex right there on the beach. For weeks afterwards we recounted the episode and each time virtually ripped each other's clothes off. The thought of the daringness thereof, the exhibitionist side of it, and the naughtiness of the public sex should someone came along really turned us on.

In my opinion we are just a normal healthy couple, in love with each other, with a normal sex drive with high moral values.

My perspective on erotica, sexiness, my own sensuality and my repressed sexual spontaneity, and enjoyment thereof, changed a few months ago when I realised one afternoon that our neighbour is a voyeur and has been watching me for some time without me knowing. Then, one afternoon, feeling rather frisky and amorous, I decided to rub lotion into my skin while standing naked in front of the window fully knowing that he was watching. That afternoon I gave him a proper look at my vagina and even masturbated to a huge climax for him.

This incident marked a turning point in my sexuality as it really turned me on without feeling guilty or remorse. I decided to be more forward with my own sensuality and to enjoy, experiment and experience sex with less inhibition. That's how I ended up researching erotica and landed on Literotica.

Testing the waters first with probing questions and suggestions, my husband agreed on us broadening our sexual experiences on one condition. That we must always be honest with each other, and never keep anything from each other.

Since then it became nearly a habit to dress or undress in front of the window, giving the neighbour a good view (and show) on a few occasions. My husband, Trevor, even stood out of view, inside the door, and encouraged me to touch myself provocatively, masturbate and display my body for the neighbour. It really turned us on and we have the most wonderful love making afterwards. We once even made love in front of the window, knowing that the neighbour was watching – but that is another story.

My eldest son has just turned sixteen and is very mature for his age. His circle of friends includes a few guys older than eighteen. One of these older friends, Marc, is well built, highly intelligent with an excellent sense of humour. He is also one of those people that always need to touch you and will easily hug me playfully. I like Marc because he has impeccable manners and really brightens the day with his humour, energy and positive attitude towards life. He is one of those guys that you know will bring it far in future. A real catch for any girl.

My son was rebuilding, or upgrading, his PC and asked Marc to help him with software installations and testing of the PC on new games. Apparently this would take some time and Marc decided to sleep over for the weekend.

Knowing that once the boys started with the PC it would be difficult to get them downstairs for dinner, or to go and take a shower before going to bed and decided to get them fed and showered early. So I took an early shower myself and decided to dress casually reflecting my joyful mood. I decided on a loose fitting short sleeved top that buttoned down the front and a pair of thin white silk pants that reached to just above my calves.

Downstairs I playfully threatened the boys to go and shower before they will be allowed to have supper. Seeing the joyful mood I am in my son grabbed me and kissed me in my neck knowing that I usually break out in goosebumps, which I indeed did. As he playfully leaped out of my reach Marc grabbed me from behind pinning my arms to my side daring my son to kiss me again in my neck. This time my son kissed and caressed the base of my neck properly, causing even more goosebumps all over my body. It caused even my sensitive nipples to contract and stand erect to attention, with the pokies clearly visible through my loose top.

As my son laughingly broke away, I managed to wriggle out of Marc's arms and turned around to face him, seeing how his eyes moved down to my erect nipples showing pokies through my blouse. The amazement and wonder showed clearly on his face and in his eyes. Knowing that he was ticklish I stepped in and grabbed him in a bear hug, trying to pin his arms down to his body. Laughingly, I ordered my son to tickle him while I keep his arms pinned to his side.

What I did not realised was that I was pressing our bodies, face to face, close together. Suddenly I became very aware of my breasts being flattened against his chest, and my erect nipples being pushed hard against him.

Being a tall woman of just under six feet, I also became aware that our groins were pushed firmly against each other. I became very much aware of the bulge in his pants pushing against my groin area and right over my slit. The sensation thereof, knowing that the bulge in his pants was pushing firmly against my own groin, just where my slit started, took me completely by surprise. A strange sort of arousal and reckless naughtiness, that I enjoyed, came over me.

Looking at his laughing face, only a few inches away, I realised that he was not really struggling to break loose and that it was me pushing into him by holding him, with my arms crossed behind his back, pressing my body into his. At that moment, looking into his eyes, I felt the bulge pressed against my groin - and his manhood growing over my groin - pushing harder against the start of my slit and shaven pussy. Oh boy, what a feeling and sensation.

To hide my sudden arousal I broke away and chased the boys upstairs for their showers.

Alone in the kitchen I sat down on a chair to catch my breath and to get my emotions under control. I'm virtually twice Marc's age, but his own arousal and stiffening manhood was unmistakable. I also felt a little guilty that I allowed it to continue for a little too long before breaking the bear hold and by pressing our groins together caused an erection in the young man. But, I was also flattered by the idea that I aroused him, and was impressed with the size of his manhood I felt pressing against me. The sensation of him pressing against me was not bad and I actually enjoyed it. Being my son's friend was perhaps inappropriate in allowing my, and his, arousal, but it was all in good humour and playful with no insincere intentions whatsoever.

When the boys came downstairs a little later for dinner they both wore sweater tops and loose fitting PJ pants. My eyes inadvertently went to the crotch of Marc's PJ's, which was clearly displaying a bulge. I also realised that by the shape of it, as it hanged, that he was not wearing any underpants. That fact, and remembering how it felt when his arousal pressed against my slit, did nothing good for my own state of arousal. And I felt sexy, wanted and even a little wanton. Being the elder and more mature person I decided to get my emotions under control and concentrated at my tasks in the kitchen.

After supper the boys excused themselves and went upstairs to work on the PC. I cleaned up the kitchen, washed the dishes and then went to watch TV in the den. My husband, Trevor, soon excused himself and went upstairs to bed.

I must have dozed off as I was next awakened by noise from the boys in the kitchen. I was cold and covered myself with one of the small blankets we keep next to couch for that purpose. By the noise of it, and their laughter, they were enjoying themselves and were preparing a late night snack. Smiling at the thought of them always hungry I shouted towards them to clean the kitchen up, as they found it clean when coming downstairs. I just smiled at their remarks laying there on the couch.

Hearing their laughter approaching the boys joined me in the den and brought me cookies and hot milk. My son sat down, lifting my head onto his lap before making himself comfortable. Marc sat down at my feet, lifting my legs and putting them down on his lap and covered my lower body, and his lap, with the blanket. For a while we watched TV, talked and laughed and then I became aware of Marc's hands on my lower leg as he softly of caressed the bare skin of my leg. His hands were caressing my shins, then my calves, then my ankles, but all the time touching my lower legs. I did not think much of it, but was aware of his soft sensual touches and became increasingly aroused by the sensualness thereof. I could feel my nipples contracting, becoming hard and erect and was afraid that Marc would see the pokies showing through my blouse.

At one stage Marc passed the plate of cookies to my son, putting it down on my stomach. The plate on my stomach caused my bloused to be pressed down over my breasts, accentuating their shape, form and my erect nipples poking hard against my blouse. From the corner of my eye I could see Marc looking at my breasts, knowing that he was looking at my nipples poking through the blouse, and enjoyed the sensation of him looking at my breasts. It was an enjoyable and sensual feeling knowing that he was looking at my breasts and perhaps even getting aroused by it.

Marc looked back at the TV, his one hand however moved and settled on my knee, while the other continued the soft caresses of my lower leg. His hand on my knee slowly started imitating the other hand. First his fingers started opening a little moving his hand to just above my knee. Then he started caressing my knee, moving his hand to the outside of my knee, then slowly to the inside of my knee causing me to slightly open my legs to allow him to continue the soft touch to my inner knee. As it was not a threatening movement, and primarily on my lower leg and knee area, I felt relaxed and confident that the caressing was just normal and allowed it to continue. I was also enjoying his soft, sometimes feathery touches that were sending a tingling sensation through my spine and stomach. To say that I was not enjoying his touches, or was not turned on by it, would be telling a lie.

Marc started to lean slightly over towards me and he shifted his body slightly. At that moment, as he shifted into a more comfortable position, I felt the knob of his hard-on pressed against my calf. The very definite, and distinct knob pressing against my calf, was sending a clear message that the young man was aroused, sporting an erection. It was sort of exciting to me to know that he was aroused by me, even if I was twice his age. The idea thereof does something to the self image of any woman, knowing that she can turn on a younger and very attractive, and man.

At first I was undecided as what to do. Should I get up and walk away, or should I just ignore it for a while and act as if I'm unaware of his arousal and knob pressing against my calf. Nevertheless, I felt so comfortable, cosy and relaxed between the two boys that I decided to stay and ignore Marc's arousal and decided to enjoy his soft caresses as it was restricted to my lower leg. He need not know how turned on I was, or how my own body enjoyed the touches. Also, with my son present, I was sure that Marc did not dare going higher up my leg, or getting too amorous, as it will definitely catch my son's attention. I was sure that Marc would behave and continued to enjoy his soft caresses on my knee and lower leg.

But, looking back now I think Marc had other ideas. At one stage Marc leaned in a little closer to me, and moved his arm and pushed his hand between the cushions of the couch and my leg, as if to be more comfortable. I realised that his hand was now pushed halfway up my leg. But, as I was wearing calf length pants I did not feel threatened by the move, as he hands remained on top of my pants.

At first he did not move his hand or fingers, I suppose now while writing this that he waited to judge my reaction. I slowly relaxed, but was also painfully aware of his warm hand on my leg.

After a while of nothing happening, he slowly started to slide his hand back towards my knee, as if to remove his hand from its position. Trying to make it easier for him to remove his hand from so high up my leg I slightly lifted my leg, affording him the opportunity to remove it easier to the previous position on my knee.

But with his other hand on my calf he pushed my leg closest to him slightly back and up, making it impossible for me to straighten my leg again. The hand on my knee slowly started caressing the skin underneath my knee, moving higher up my leg and slowly trailed a line to the point where his fingers were prevented from going higher by the couch underneath. I also realised that when he was caressing my knees so softly previously he has also spread my legs a little and that his fingers were nearly alarmingly high on my leg. I was slightly comforted by the idea that his hand was outside my trousers, on the soft satin material, and not directly on my bare skin. Realising that it was not really invading my privacy, or accepted norms yet, I relaxed and ignored his warn hand. But, I was also very aware of his hand on my leg. However, my mind was sending very sexual messages to the rest of my body and I became very aware of my erect nipples poking against my blouse.

I also became aware that with my one leg slightly forced up, and feet spread outwards, that my legs were spread slightly apart. With my legs in that position he would be able to reach much higher up my leg than I thought possible.

From the corner of my eye I watched Marc turning his face and looked at me while I pretended to watch TV. Still watching me for any reaction I suppose, he slowly slid his hand to my inside leg. The movement allowed his fingers more freedom as the cushions were not pinning them down underneath my leg anymore. As my legs were slightly spread it allowed his hand and fingers more freedom that either of us perhaps anticipated.

I suddenly realised that in this position his hand was very, very high up my inner leg. If he wanted to, he would be able to nearly reach my very inner thigh, or even my pussy, with his fingers. My mind was in turmoil, as never before has anyone's hand, except my husband's, been so high up my leg or so close to my pussy. While my mind was busy digesting the situation, my body was sending conflicting, and very arousing, messages to my nipples and vagina. I was very aware of my hard nipples pressing against my blouse and could feel the warmness and tingling feeling of my vagina. I could feel how my vagina was becoming wet, lubricating itself and making small bubbles inside it.

Still looking at me, I could feel Marc moving and stretching his fingers higher and realised that his fingers were at my soft inner thigh, where it narrows down to the softness of my inner groin, and was only a fraction from my pussy. He stopped his fingers there, just short of my pussy and slowly moved it up and down. My heart was pounding and my breath quickened. I closed my eyes not trusting myself, or my emotions anymore, while at the same time thoroughly enjoying the sensualness of is touch, the warmness of his hand and the naughty sexualness thereof. Make no mistake, I was turned on. His fingers were there right at my pussy, but neither was it yet there either. It was so deliciously sexy, naughty and arousing that my mind was spinning.

With small minute movements, like soft feathery kisses, he was caressing and touching the softness of my inner groin. Never in my life before was I so aware of a touch, of the slightest movement and pressure, or so aroused. The knowledge of his hand on the soft warmness of my inner groin, such a prohibited and private area being touched caused my body a new and wonderful sensation. I felt sexy, sensual and very much aroused at the hand of another man. I think the arousal overshadowed any guilt, shame or feeling that it was wrong, or that I should stop it and I pushed those emotions to the back of my mind. All I could think of, and feel, was his hand on my leg, his fingers softly touching my groin, but not touching my pussy. The arousal and sensualness thereof was unbelievably sexy. My body was awake and very aware of every slight movement of his hands as if all of my mind and body was focussing on his hand and feelings of my arousal. I could feel my juices moistening my slit and my vagina making bubbles inside me. I could feel how the wetness was soaking into my panty.