Good Girl 114

I've been tidying all morning but the house still doesn't feel ready. My son is coming home from college today for spring break and bringing half the rugby team with him. We have a big home so I'm not too worried, but it's going to be stressful without my husband around.

DING DONG

Oh crap! They're already here! I straighten my skirt and fix my hair before scurrying downstairs to meet them.

"Oh, Ethan, it's so good to see you! And wow! You grew!"

"Hey, mom, thanks for letting us all stay here. And of course I grew, you should see how much we eat!"

My son gives me a warm hug then introduces me to the parade of boys filing in. I really shouldn't call them boys though, as these are full grown men! Soon my foyer is bustling with burly athletes towering over me in my bare feet.

"Thanks for having us, Mrs. S," one says with a friendly smile.

"Yeah, thanks Mrs. Schwartz, your house is sweet!!"

A WASP by breed I'm shy about his compliment, but really he's just pointing out the obvious. My husband, Jared, is a very wealthy man and we live in what Architectural Digest describes as, "a modern masterpiece." After greeting a few more boys I tell them there's beer in the kitchen and they quickly stampede away. As I turn to follow, I bump into a sturdy figure whom I haven't yet met.

"Oh, s-sorr..." I start, but by the time I've looked up I'm speechless.

Standing in front of me is a wall of man, so tall I have to look straight up to see him. He steps back and greets me with a cheeky smile, the kind I haven't gotten from a guy in a minute. At 48 I'm noticed less by the day, but even though I still think I'm hot I don't seek out male attention. I'd be lying though if I said this particular friend didn't spark something in me. He's exactly my type: tall, muscled, tan, with a mustache like Tom Selleck. He looks fresh out of a different era, more rugged and masculine than his age would suggest. In truth, he's everything my husband isn't....

Now that's not to say I don't love my husband, I do dearly. I'm just not the most.... attracted to him. Jared's a sweet, genuine, caring man, but he's only a few inches taller than my 5'7" and probably weighs less than 150 lbs. This specimen in front of me though, hnggg, he's a beefcake.

"Name's Bruce," he says curtly, in an accent I clock as Australian. Fuckkk! You've gotta be kidding me! Could he get any hotter?? I realize the answer is yes when he sticks out his hairy bear paw to shake my hand.

I daintily place mine in his and say, "I-I'm Bethany... Or, well- you can call me Mrs-"

"Beth," he cuts in. "I like that." My pale cheeks burn red but I'm too flustered to correct him. "Thanks for inviting me into your home, Beth. Now why don't you be a doll and grab me one of those beers you were talkin' about. I'm gonna go find a room and unpack."

He finally lets go of my hand then turns and heads upstairs. I'm left utterly dumbfounded in the hall, unsure if all that sexual tension is just in my head. No, he was definitely flirting! Ugh, gross!! I can't lust over my son's friend, I'm twice his fucking age! Well, I guess it's not that weird... I mean he is an adult and DEFINITELY looks like one! Unnnnhh... And the way he told me to "be a doll," just like....

"MOM!"

"Coming!"

The kitchen is a jungle full of swaggering apes, swiping up snacks and beverages. Obviously excluding my son, I feel naturally attracted to these strong, virile creatures. My moistening pussy lips glide together as I step towards the fridge to grab Bruce a beer. I still can't really believe what I'm doing but pretend it's just part of being a good host.

"Did you meet Bruce?" my son asks, and I have to pretend I wasn't just fantasizing.

"Oh! Yes! He seems very.... Uh, nice!"

"Yeah, he's the coolest. He's a senior and the captain of our team."

"Who, Bruce? Yeah, he's the fuckin' man!"

"Yeah he is! And all the girls love him!"

"Ha, of course they do. But didn't he just break up with Annabelle?"

"Yeah, I heard it's because he was fucking Mrs. McNally!"

"WHAT?! Mrs. McNally??? The economics professor???"

"Shhhh..." my son urges, embarrassed to have me hear the hot gossip, but the damage is already done. I know what Bruce did with his teacher and it has me fucking soaked.

"You all talkin' about me?" Bruce asks with a smug grin when he steps in the room. The boys all laugh then return to their conversations.

Bruce maneuvers his broad shoulders through the crowd towards me, his head above the rest, the obvious Alpha. He's calm and cocky as he reaches out for his cold beer. I hand it to him.

"Thank you, Beth," he says casually.

"O-of course...!" I whisper nervously, hoping the other boys don't hear him call me that.

"And when you see I'm done with this one you'll bring me another, right?"

"Uhh... y-yes!" I reply without thinking. It just slips out!

"Good girl," he says, then turns to talk to his friends.

"Oh my...."

I rush out of the kitchen and sprint to the master bathroom.

"Oh my...! Oh my god...!"

I can barely breathe! It's been decades since I've been called that, "good girl," though never by a man half my age! It was my old professor who first said it, more than 20 years ago now when I went in for help on a biology assignment. Dr. Wagner was a very big, very serious man, the type who believed he deserved things because of his size and strength. He was also extremely misogynistic, taking an old school approach to the genders.

"Girls are submissive and receptive," he would tell our anatomy class. "Their bodies were made to accommodate men, and thus their minds."

One day I went into his office for help but was told not to worry about my grades. He said I'd be better off with a husband taking care of me, and though I didn't want to believe him Dr. Wagner wouldn't listen. He put his massive hand on mine, then the other behind my neck as he pulled me in for a kiss. I'd only smooched a few boys but none were as mature and confident as my professor. His prickly mustache tickled my cherry lips while his tongue slid between them.

When he reached under my skirt I tried to squirm away, but Dr. Wagner ripped off my panties and began stroking my puffy lips! I cried into his mouth but couldn't move as his long finger slid past my wet slit into my untapped well. Being a virgin before marriage was paramount in my conservative community and I was terrified of being deflowered. At the same time though I'd never felt hotter than kissing this bear of a man! Spreading my legs for his hairy paw and eventually face. He propped me up on the desk and held out my thighs before feasting on my virgin pussy. I clamped around his jaw and rode instinctively while trying my best to keep quiet.

"Unh! MMM! Ohhh! S-stop!"

"I'm not stopping, girl, you oughta know that. A man like me doesn't stop til he's done."

With that he stood up, dropped his pants, and pushed his angry cock head into my dripping hole. I screamed at first, begged him not to take my innocence, but by the time he was halfway in I was begging for something else..... My professor gave me my first orgasm that day, then my second and third, and when it was all over he pulled out his drained dick and said, "good girl."

Over the next two years, through hundreds of earth-shattering orgasms, Dr. Wagner trained me to be his "good girl." By the end I was totally hooked, but graduation was looming and reality began to set in. I didn't want to be stuck in that town forever with a man 30 years my senior. Sure, the sex was mindblowing but we weren't compatible outside of it. And then I met Jared..... Sweet, sweet Jared. The love of my life for whom I've sacrificed so much, the father of my child who I will love for eternity, but.... Who has never given me an orgasm.............

Yes, it's true, he's never actually made me cum. But I'm a loyal wife and haven't cheated, though I've certainly had the chance.... My long brown hair, perky tits and slim waist have always attracted men, but not once have I acted on the countless opportunities that have arisen. Sure I've flirted here and there, but that's how you make a 20 year marriage last! But with Bruce, hnggg...! My pussy is throbbing like it used to for my professor. That deep heat that only a true Alpha can send me into.

"Oooohhh..."

I'm naked in the floor length mirror of the gorgeous home my husband bought for us, dreaming of other men. My hand is between my thighs and I'm close to a quick release, but when I remember how many guests are here I decide to hold off. Whew! What's gotten into me!

I redress and head back into the kitchen, where a mess is forming. Sitting at the head of the table is Bruce, clinking his empty bottle. Empty bottle.... shit! He shoots me a stern look and I scamper to grab him a fresh one.

"Here you go," I tell him quietly. It's hectic but I really don't want anyone to notice my strange behavior.

"Good girl," he says, "but next time be quick about it."

I whimper like a chastised dog then slink away to begin cleaning. A strange euphoria washes over me once I'm settled into my element, quietly tending to my son and his friends. There's a calming presence emanating from Bruce, one I've sorely missed. It reminds me of my Father growing up, puffing his cigar while my mother and I kept house. I secretly yearn for this masculine energy and in Bruce it's palpable.

While replacing his beer again, I swear Bruce gropes my ass. There are so many hands I can't be certain, but a fresh flood drenches my panties. This strange game -- at least I think it's one -- continues throughout the day while the boys play drinking games. When dinner's ready there's an ice cold beer waiting at the head of the table. Bruce nods at me then I serve him first.

"Your mom's the best, Ethan!"

"Yeah, she rocks!"

Hearing them speak about me as if I'm not there is strangely erotic, like I'm a servant, an ornament, here to please. The whole thing is turning me on so much, especially whenever I pass Bruce. He always nods commandingly, affirming this is where I belong.

"Why don't you boys go watch a movie, I'll clean up."

"Thanks, Mrs. S!" they shout in unison, though Bruce comments separately.

"Great dinner, Beth, and I'm sure breakfast will be good too. You should know I like my coffee black."

I'm lost staring at the veiny biceps bulging out of his red rugby polo.

"W-what? Oh! Sorry! Black, yes, black," I mutter. Of course, just like Dr. Wagner and my Father...

"Good girl. Night, now."

He puts his big hand on my waist then walks away.

"HUUUUUHHH!!"

I can finally exhale. Oh my GOD! Why does this young man get me so HOT!! Why couldn't it be someone my own age, or at least not my son's friend!!! But there's nothing I can do. Bruce makes me wetter than I've been in decades and I can't deny it.

That night, like many others, I fantasize about my old professor. We used to go to his house and play husband and wife, him in his suit while I pranced around naked. Over time he molded me into a total sub, the kind of girl who doesn't speak unless spoken to. It's not how I ever envisioned myself but once he turned me out I couldn't go back.

My vibrator is pressed on my clit as I squirm under the covers. I want Dr. Wagner's big hands all over me, or... or Bruce's!

"Unh!"

Fuuuuuckkkk! I want to be his good girl, serve him naked on my knees!

"Hnnnn!!!"

My body craves him. I ride harder and harder until I cream all over my sheets!

"Mmmmm!!!"

Jeeeeeeeesusss!!! I haven't squirted in years! I'm panting, my pussy still on fire as I dream about the college stud two rooms over.

"Get a hold of yourself, you're a mother!"

Well, mom's need good dick too........

I have a pep in my step making breakfast the next day. My clit's been puffed up all morning and I keep rubbing against it to stimulate the sensitive nerves. When the boys come down I'm sure to have a black coffee ready for Bruce. He nods then sits in his spot to read the newspaper, which I find rather endearing. I make sure to give him the best slices of bacon and even a little extra.

The others are here but my attention is on Bruce. My skirt is slightly shorter today and blouse more revealing. Nothing to cause alarm, just some pieces that have been gathering dust for far too long. I see Bruce eyeing my cleavage and appreciate the attention; my husband never notices when I dress up. What Bruce doesn't know is that I'm also wearing a black lace G-string and bra. I love lingerie, how accessible it makes my body, but rarely put it on for Jared. All this flirting is done covertly, of course, making the whole thing even hotter! At least I hope it's flirting.... Maybe I'm just delusional. Hell, who cares? My pussy is drenched.

In the afternoon it's a veritable bodybuilding competition by the pool. These rugby hunks are beyond fit and like any good lady I'm ogling respectfully. Bruce is the silverback, the tallest, hairiest, strongest. His tan muscles ripple as he swims deftly across the pool, his shiny back flexing as he lifts himself out. Hnngggg.... He sits in his chair and looks over at me, then tips his empty beer. I jump up to grab him a new one, already well-trained.

"You're quite fit yourself," Bruce tells me as I lean over to hand him the cold brew.

I blush and thank him, aware my tits have been jiggling in his face. I walk away feeling sexy as hell, my still-tight ass bouncing with each step. I've missed showing off my body and am loving this feeling.

Unfortunately I have no reason to dress sexy for dinner so I decide to invent one. Now this may seem a little desperate, or even downright weird, but you have to understand how sexually deprived I've been. Finally I get a chance to satisfy this deep craving and dammit I'm gonna milk it! So I tell my son I'm going to an event and that they should order pizza. But just as I'm walking out, "my friend" informs me "the event" is canceled, so I'll just have to stay home.

"Oh no, but it took me so long to get ready!"

I'm standing in my 3 inch black Versace's and a tight black dress that hugs all the right places. Paired with my vanilla/lychee perfume it's all a bit hookerish, but that's the vibe I'm going for. My son is too focused playing beer pong out back to care, which gives me ample time near Bruce.

"Believe me, Beth," he says while I hand him his next drink. "That outfit's not going to waste."

I smile and continue my rounds like a dutiful hostess. The boys have gotten me to drink too and by the time the sun sets I'm well past tipsy. At one point I find myself playing a game with Bruce on my team. He grabs my hips a few times and I look around nervously to make sure my son is far away. He is, but there are other watchful eyes. I try to make Bruce stop but he holds firmly until I relent. We finish the game with his hands on me, and while I can't tell if our opponents noticed the anxious rush is making me wet. I run inside to catch my breath.

"Hey, mommm!" my son slurs when he sees me in the kitchen.

"Oh, hi, honey!"

"Thanks for being soooo cooooool."

"Of course, baby, I love you. Now how about you go to bed. You're drunk."

"Suuuure, suuuuuure," he babbles, then is led upstairs by one of his friends.

"I think it's time for me to go to bed too, boys. Good niiiight!"

No one notices I'm leaving except Bruce, who has a peeved look. I realize he hasn't yet "let" me go and wonder if he's annoyed about getting his own drinks. I can't worry about that now though, I need to sleep. I peep into my son's room and see he and a friend passed out. Other boys are snoring on various guest beds and I'm fulfilled knowing I can care for so many people.

In the master suite it feels amazing to finally peel off my tight dress and bra. Ever since my professor forcibly stripped me I've loved being naked, so I dance around drunkenly before stepping into the shower. It's super steamy, the perfect time to sit on the stone bench. I pull the shower head down and run the warm water over my inner thighs and vulva.

"Oooo...."

It's intoxicating. I spread wider and tickle my inner lips.

"Uhhhhh....."

I've been on fire since Bruce arrived and really need to work one out. I'm drunk though and tired which is making it hard to finish. I'm getting closer but know I can't do it myself, at least not tonight. Frustrated, I sigh and turn the water off then reach for my towel.

"Huh?"

That's strange... it's not there. Thick steam shrouds the room as I step onto the Italian tile. It's hard to see through the fog without my glasses but I can make out a faint red blob. I inch closer, wondering what the hell it is, but as the steam parts realize it's my son's teammate!

"AHHHH!!!! Bruce!! What the fuck are you doing?!"

I try to cover myself but can't manage both my tits and lady bits. Trembling and frigid, I search frantically for a towel but they've all been moved! How long has he been here?? And why!!!!

"B-Bruce I'm serious, you need to get out right now! I-I mean it, leave...!"

Even though it's my home my words carry no wait. As I stare at my son's friend with his crossed arms and stone face, I'm reminded of all the times my professor locked me in his office. He'd take my clothes and hold me there buck naked, using my body as long as he liked. It's not like I could fight him, Dr. Wagner was twice my size, so I just had to do what he said.

Sometimes I'd be in there for hours, stuck under his desk on my knees while he graded papers. I got so used to being folded up down there with his dick in my mouth that it actually became sort of comforting..... He'd rub my head and tell me I was his good girl, that he owned me. I miss those days -- that raw, feral lust -- but Bruce's dominant energy has sent me right back into that subspace.

"We both know you don't want me to leave," my 22 year old paramour infers. "I know exactly what kind of girl you are, so you're gonna do everything I say and we won't have a problem. Got it?"

"....."

"I said got it!"

I jump in terror, "y-yes...!"

"Yes, what?" he follows up menacingly.

"Y-yes, Sir..........." I whimper in utter defeat. Just like Dr. Wagner....

"Good girl."

"Hnnnng......"

"Now put your hands down, Bethy, let me see you."

His veiny arms are still crossed and he hasn't so much as smiled. Panic and adrenaline are mixing with my libido and my cunt is dripping juice! When I uncover my pinkish brown nipples they're hard as diamonds. Tiny goosebumps dot my areola and I hope he can't see my physical response. I move down my Pilates-toned tummy to cover myself but Bruce orders my hands to my side.

"You have a beautiful body, Beth. I love an older woman who knows how to keep it tight."

He lumbers towards me and places his huge palm directly on my navel. I gasp as his long, athlete's fingers curl up and grip my pussy like he owns it.

"UUUNNNHH...!"

GOD! I haven't been touched like this in YEARS!! His palm rubs my hardened clit as he glides his middle finger between my drooling groove. I forgot how delicious it feels to be handled by a strong man, one who understands what a woman needs. I go up on my toes and whimper as a stud my son's age penetrates my silky slit.

"Fuuuckk... FuuuHUUuuuckkk!!"

His other hand reaches around back and grips my cheek, smacks it. I'm dancing naked in this giant's powerful arms, getting fingerblasted like a high school cheerleader. His thick digit feels bigger than my husband on Viagra so I can only imagine his dick! Ugh, I'm not usually like this I promise -- so driven by carnal desires. But after two decades of depriving myself I think I fucking deserve it!

"Hooo...! HOOO!!"

"That's a good girl. Ride Daddy's hand til you squirt."

It's ridiculous for this college kid to call himself Daddy but right now I don't care! He sticks another finger in and I'm about to cream like a wanton slut, but suddenly "Daddy" pulls out!