The Young Man Next Door

Part II

Sexting

When he came home that evening, her husband was surprised to see that she had managed to plant the rose bushes by herself. She knew he would ask and she knew how she would answer him, more or less.

"I got help from the neighbor. The kid across the alley offered to help me, and I let him."

She paused and waited for him to comment.

He could see that she had something on her mind, so he waited her out.

She couldn't bear the wait for long and started stammering her explanation. "He helped me, and ... I let him ... well ... I let him ... so ... he kept looking at me ... you know ... noticing me ... my body ... and I kinda liked that he seemed ... interested in me ... and ... well ... I kinda started flirting with ... with him ... it was just having fun while we planted the roses ... just ... fooling around ... and ... well ..." She paused, bit her lip, then continued her confession. "We ... we did it ... you know? It just ... we were flirting and then ... I could see that ... that he was getting horny and so then I was getting horny too and ... well ... one thing led to another and ... first I let him kiss me ... and then I ... I knew he wanted to ... to do more ... and ... well ... I sorta did too, really ... I kinda got carried away ... so I ... I just took him upstairs and we did it in our bed. I let him ... I let him .... We had sex! Please don't be mad."

She was a little afraid of how he would react. He always fantasized about her having other men, especially younger men, but she was never really sure how he would respond to a real tryst.

"Really? You're not just trying to get me riled up? You really did it with him? You fucked him? A kid?"

She nodded uncertainly, then added, "Well, he's 18."

He stood there thinking for awhile, imagining the situation. His penis started moving in his pants as he pictured her with this kid, naked, copulating upstairs in their bed. She could not see that he was getting sexually aroused and stood there, watching his expression, worried that he would yell at her. Suddenly, he just smiled, then took her into his arms, kissed her deeply. After a nice long kiss, he looked her in the eye and said, "I want you to tell me all the details later, OK? After supper, when we go to bed, I want you to tell me."

So that is what they did. He took a quick shower, then they prepared dinner and ate it with no further mention of her escapades, then they went to bed early. He was anxious to hear her story. As she related the details to him in bed. He lay next to her and began to fondle her as she told him what, exactly, she had done with her lover. By the time she was finishing her story, he had a finger inside her and she was about to cum, and she pulled him into her arms and he lay atop her and he entered her and she closed her eyes and she came for the second time that day, fucking her husband and thinking about her new lover. Once they finished, her husband fell asleep, apparently content. She was greatly relieved that he wasn't angry.

And so she began to wonder about the future in new ways. Would she in fact do the kid again? Would she be able to let her husband watch? Would that actually be possible? Did she actually want that? And she wondered about the kid. What was he thinking? Was he glad they had done it? Was he thinking about her as she was about him? Would he ever text her like she'd asked?

Though exhausted from her day, it took her awhile to go to sleep as she lay there wondering about him, thinking about that beautiful long cock of his and whether she would ever get to have him again. That night the first text came, but she had finally fallen asleep and didn't know.

In the morning her husband woke up cheery as usual and immediately shook her awake. He seemed excited and wanted to talk about her exploits of the previous day. He was clearly aroused again, and he fondled her and he asked her if she would do it again and whether she thought he might be able watch them. Still sleepy, she yawned and said she was not sure what she would do. She would have to think about it. What she was actually thinking about most was whether there might be a text on her phone, whether he had sent her any messages.

Her need to know the answer roused her so she pushed her husband's hands away and rolled out of the bed. She grabbed her phone off her dresser, smiled happily. There it was. There was no written message. Just a smiley face and an attachment—a jpg file. She opened it, mildly curious about what it could be, and at first she could not figure out what it was. She put on her readers and studied the image and soon realized that it was a picture of her young lover's abdomen. He had sent her a selfie which showed his hard body from neck to navel and no more. She was surprised how readily she recognized him since she had only seen him naked briefly. But there was the little birthmark on his belly that she had barely noticed when she was seething with desire for his penis. There too was that small mole near his left nipple. That too she had hardly noticed and frankly did not remember until she saw the photo. Suddenly, she was horny again. She had never been sexted before and had always thought it was just something goofy guys did, but she definitely liked this and did not consider him goofy. As she gazed at the photo, she could almost feel his body against hers again. She could almost feel his long shaft penetrating her again, sliding up inside her, pumping up and down in her vagina, making her feel so wonderful, so sexy, so satisfied.

She wasn't sure what she should do though. So, she closed the file and set the phone aside. After 10 minutes, she opened it again and the same sexy feelings waved over her again and she thought about masturbating. She closed the file and set the phone aside.

Ten minutes later, she was looking at it again. Geeze! What is wrong with me? What do I do now?

Then it dawned on her that he was probably awaiting her reaction. She sent him a smiley face in reply.

Almost immediately he replied back. "Your turn."

Uh oh.

It was her turn to be afraid! She had seduced him on her own terms. Now they were playing his game—a young people's game. She was not sure she could do it, but she was sure now that she wanted to have sex with that beautiful young man, his hard body, and his magnificent endowment again. Could she rise to the occasion? Could she meet his challenge? She needed to try. She felt she needed it.

But, she recognized her own limitations, and her doubts about her body. She did not feel she could rise to the occasion without encouragement. "Honey?" she called.

"Yes, dear?"

He was in the office upstairs. She went up. "Do you really want me to have sex with him again?" she blurted rather inartfully.

He considered a moment, felt his penis responding, and replied, with only the slightest hesitation, "Yes. I do. You know it turns me on. And I am not the least bit afraid of you falling in love with a kid. It seems a safe enough indulgence, and if it makes you horny, all the better. So, yeah, this seems good to me. Why are you asking just now?"

"Well," she showed him the picture. "That's him. He expects me to sext him back!"

"Oh, I see. You are unsure what to do."

"Uh huh."

"Well, you know how I like to take naked pictures of you—when you'll let me. Want me to help?"

"Uh huh," she said in her cutest, helpless-little-girl way.

"Let's see what we can come up with!"

He got up from the desk, took her hand, grabbed the camera, and led her to their bedroom.

They spent the next half hour getting her into various outfits (mostly skimpy night clothes, a pair of his boxers, nothing at all) and a whole variety of poses, until they had a set of promising photos to consider. They downloaded the batch and scrolled through them together. He could hardly keep his hands off her while they perused the photos. She felt she had two young bulls to satisfy now!

Ultimately, they settled on a photo that showed her slightly poochy belly and just a little breast with a hint of pink, crinkly, clearly aroused, nipple. The selected picture was just explicit enough to be suggestive without embarrassing her with too much exposure. She would need to ease into more revealing stuff. Besides, his photo was not particularly revealing either. This would be an appropriate, so to speak, response.

Despite her husband's protests, she insisted on deleting all the rest of the pictures from both the computer and the camera. He was dismayed, but felt they were moving in a positive direction and he did not want to upset her or make her still more nervous at this juncture, so he complied.

He emailed the chosen photo to his gmail account, then texted it to his wife. He deleted his copy reluctantly. She agreed to let him to keep a copy on the computer in a secure file and he was satisfied with that.

She texted the photo to her lover.

Moments later she received a happy face.

Half an hour later, she received a photo of him with his erect penis in his hand. Though his head was out of the frame, he appeared to be gazing at his phone—at her. He appeared to be masturbating and looking at her picture. The photo had a caption. "Can't wait. See you soon?"

She wanted to see him now! She wanted to feel him against her—in her. She felt she wanted to get him into the sack and keep him there all day! She was startled at how horny she was. She texted back. "I wish you were here now. I can hardly wait either. Meanwhile, stay in touch!"

"Honey?"

"Yes, dear?"

She found him upstairs in the family room watching television. "Want to take more photos?"

"OK. Why?"

She showed him the messages.

He had an idea immediately. He took her to their bed, had her undress down to her undies and put on her pajama bottoms, then lie on her back with her left hand in her pants as if she was masturbating. Her right hand was holding her phone, her arm extended as if she was looking at an image on the screen. He took the photo from her left side so her face, resting on her pillow, could not be seen. Upload, email, download, text, sext. It was done, with the message: "Thinking of you. Can you come over tomorrow afternoon?"

Less than a minute later came the reply: "No. Sorry. Not possible. Really want to. Luv the pic!"

"When?" she replied.

"Maybe Saturday?"

Oh no, a week?!

Then, suddenly, another text: "Would you like a video?"

A video? Would I like a video? Of what?!

"Sure."

"OK. Give me a couple of hours. Email address?"

She sent him her home email address which she rarely used.

She checked email every 10 minutes for the next three and a half hours, and then, there it was: an email message with an attached mp4 file. She clicked it without giving it a second thought.

It was crude. Low pixels. But very graphic. He had printed the photos she'd sent him and had them lying on his bed next to him. He was naked and erect. He lay on his side and studied her photographs. He stroked his beautiful, long cock. (She wanted to do it for him!) In awhile his strokes quickened, then he rolled on his back, scrunched his eyes, and spurted globs of jism onto his stomach.

She had never much cared for pornography, but she found herself rewinding the video to see the last part where he rolled onto his back and finished himself. She watched it again, and then set it to replay over and over. Then she unzipped her pants, pulled them down just enough, and masturbated as she watched him beat himself off, and she produced a lovely, wet orgasm for herself, leaving a dark spot on the office chair when she was finished.

She just sat there for a few minutes wondering at herself, then she got out of the chair, pulled her pants off, and sat back down with the wet spot between her spread legs. She placed a finger in her vagina, touched her still swollen clitoris with her thumb, and used her phone to snap a pic of herself as if she had just finished diddling herself while watching his video (which was approximately true though the photo was staged). The wet spot on the chair showed in the picture pretty well. She sent it with the message: "Saturday. I'll be here."