For Part 1, check out Hot Tub Fun with Mom's New Boyfriend.
I hope you enjoy reading Part 2 as much as I did writing it...
~~~
Gwen smacked her freshly-glossed lips in the rearview mirror as she drove down her mom's street. It had only been a few weeks since meeting her mom's new boyfriend, Scott, and she still couldn't get that shocking hot tub encounter out of her head. The expression on his face as things had escalated was seared into her mind, and she had revisited it most nights in her dorm room bed.
It was the look on his face that she kept coming back to: an expression of both utter disbelief at what was unfolding, and yet also a clear and primal need to consume Gwen...his girlfriend's college-age daughter.
A crashing sound broke her from her reverie as she clipped the plastic trash cans that belonged to her handsome neighbor, Mr. Callahan. They were now strewn across the street, lids flopped open.
"Shit, SHIT!" Gwen muttered, jerking the steering wheel back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mom's front door open as she steadied the car and pulled into the driveway -- right behind a car she didn't recognize.
The 2023 black Jeep in the driveway had local plates, but it didn't hit her whose it was until she heard a familiar voice.
"Ah -- Gwen? Are you okay?"
Gwen peered out her empty passenger window and saw Scott leaning out the front door, looking quizzically between her car and the trash cans. Gwen noted his sweaty brow, workman's-style jeans, and plain t-shirt stretched across his pecs. The sleeves were rolled up to his shoulders like he had been working on something.
"Yes - yeah. Fine. Those trash cans came out of nowhere. So weird." She fumbled to turn her car off, her pulse racing both with embarrassment and the jolt of energy coursing through her at the sight of him. He crossed the lawn and right-sized the hefty cans easily, lifting each with a single hand, biceps bulging.
Gwen watched his arms, already coated with a layer of sweat, gleaming in the sun. She tracked every muscle beneath his drenched-through shirt, sending a shiver through her body. She sat paralyzed in her driver seat, rubbing her thighs together against the building pulse in her pussy. Oh God, here we go... she thought.
Scott strode over to her car, looking awkwardly at her. "You're...home. Is everything okay?"
Gwen looked at him curiously. "I could ask you the same thing. I'm here dropping off some shit from school I don't need. What are YOU doing here? Don't you have work? Is my mom home?" She glanced around, not seeing her mom's car anywhere; but it wasn't quite yet the end of the workday yet.
Scott smiled politely -- Gwen saw that deep dimple appear again, making her throb. "I took a half day. Your mom told me she had been putting off a few handyman projects at home and I wanted to make myself useful. I, ah, didn't realize you'd be coming home..." he trailed off awkwardly, clearing his throat and looking away. "But I'm basically done. I'll help you bring your stuff in, and then be on my way."
Gwen popped her trunk, not bothering to look at Scott as he started to haul in the over-packed cardboard boxes. Gwen had gotten a few of the guys on the track team to help her load up her car at school, that shit was too heavy for her to handle alone. But Scott gathered a single box in each arm like it was nothing, striding quickly for the house.
Popping into the powder room just off the entryway, Gwen checked herself in the mirror while Scott brought her boxes in. She had run a few miles that morning before driving over, her hair still up in a ponytail and her clothes -- a matching running set -- sticking to her sweaty skin. Not the look she would have planned for, but there was nothing to be done at this point. I should take a shower before I go back, the dorm showers are so gross, Gwen thought to herself. She ambled into the kitchen, her boxes now piled in a corner neatly.
She noticed Scott was placing some tools back into a small toolbox, checking his pockets as if readying himself to leave. "I think that should be it...I didn't see anything else in your car," he said, turning to Gwen. "Well, I'm off. Have a good night, Gwen."
"Wait, hang on," Gwen interrupted, reaching for him as he strode for the entryway. Scott froze, glancing at her outstretched arm. She could swear they both felt every empty inch between her arm and his shoulder, now aimed at the door.
"Would you mind taking a quick look at my shower before you go? The cold water is busted and it's too hot out to be taking warm showers." Gwen gave him a sarcastically pouty face, jutting a hip out and twirling her long ponytail in her fingers.
Scott smiled, a genuine, but sheepish smile. "Gwen, you know, I'm not a plumber, I just fixed a few things for your Mom, I don't know..." he trailed off, looking at her. She could swear he was imploring her to let him leave. Gwen wasn't having it.
"Well you know, it's just, since my dad and all...we never have someone around to help us fix stuff like this..." she glanced at him pointedly. Come on, nice guy, she thought. I know you want to help me...
"Well...okay, real quick. Show me where it is." Gwen brushed past him, intentionally grazing his arm with her tit, her nipples already hardening. She felt him stiffen, but not pull away. Interesting, she thought.
Gwen led Scott upstairs, sashaying her hips ever so slightly to accentuate her long runner's legs, and just the hint of ass cheek she knew would show under her shorts as he followed behind her.
"Here you go," she said, pointing him to the hallway bathroom that was for her use. Scott stepped inside and Gwen stepped into her bedroom next door, her mind racing.
She glanced at her bedroom clock -- only 4:17. That's still pretty early, she thought. No way my mom will be home soon. Right...? Gwen chewed her lip for what felt like an eternity while she considered her options. On one hand, she was alone in her house with Scott. On the other hand, she knew her mom was pretty punctual with her 5pm clock-out time at work. Gwen weighed her options, her body insistently telling her what it wanted, while her brain anxiously told her No, don't do this again, Gwen...
"Hey! I think I figured it out," she heard Scott call from the hallway. Fuck it, Gwen thought, grabbing a towel from her closet. Striding for the bathroom, Gwen said, "Hey, are you sure you're an Accountant or whatever? Seems like you might have a future as a plumber."
"Forensic accountant, actually" Scott laughed, twisting the cold faucet to off. "I think I'll keep my day job. Feel free to check my handiwork, though," he said, stepping back in the tiny space so Gwen could reach the shower knobs. She brushed past him, flopping her towel onto the closed toilet seat. She turned the cold knob to halfway, the pressure spraying off the exposed wall onto their chests.
"Hey!" Scott protested, jerking back slightly and shielding his face wtih a large, tanned hand. "Save some for the ocean." Gwen faced him and cheekily stuck her tongue out, turning the knob to full blast and flicking her wet hand in his face, droplets spraying across his tan cheeks, and sandy hair.
Scott grabbed her outstretched wrist. "Quit it!" he said, sharply, but with a hint of amusement.
Gwen stopped laughing immediately, her wrist frozen in midair, encicled in Scott's hand. Their eyes met, and Gwen felt her heart race faster.
"Sorry," Scott mumbled, dropping her arm and stepping back a few inches. It was hard to do so in her tiny bathroom, but she could sense him coming back to reality, realizing he needed to get out -- ASAP. He glanced at the door, readying to leave.
"No, I should thank you, really. You know. For fixing my shower." Gwen said softly, stepping towards Scott slowly. She smiled wolfishly, locking eyes with him. Scott was once again frozen, not drawing closer, but not moving for the door, either.
Slowly, Gwen grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting it up over her torso, then her shoulders, and her head. Standing there in her sports bra, she started wiggling slowly out of her running shorts. They fell to her ankles, and she stepped out of them, kicking them aside. She stood before Scott in her navy sports bra and turquoise thong, smiling as he turned a bright shade of red while looking away towards the door, raising his hands up between them.
"Gwen, listen, no. No way. This is not happening. Last time was a mistake, a total mistake. If you got the wrong idea from me..."
Gwen was listening to Scott's futile protests, relishing the feeling of control yet again. The pressure was building in her body, she knew this man was once again turning to putty in her hands...and she loved every second of it.
"No, I don't think I got the wrong idea." She said slowly, unhooking her bra and letting it fall slack to the floor. Her breasts bounced gently, freed from their spandex prison. Her rosy nipples were budding with anticipation and the adrenaline coursing through her. She reached up, pulling the ponytail holder out of her hair, her tits nuzzling against each other as her arms lifted gracefully. In a trance, Scott's eyes were fixed to her tits, unmoving, as he mumbled lamely.
"Look, Scott. If you want to go, then go." She said lazily, almost cruelly. She hooked her thumbs around her thong and slid it down her thighs, noticing Scott's eyes slid down to her smooth mound. It was fresh with her pussy juice that had been building there since she saw him in the driveway. "But I really don't think you want to."
She stepped closer to him, so her skin was up against him. Never breaking eye contact, she grasped his t-shirt fabric in one hand, and gently started pulling him backwards towards her -- towards the shower.
