Since they were three, our son, Andrew, was best friends with Chad. Chad and his family lived a few blocks away. We met them at the local playground and the boys hit it off from their first meeting. Even though years passed and their interests diverged, they only seemed to grow closer. Andrew became more interested in computers and science-fiction while Chad turned into a football playing jock. This proved fortuitous in their later years because Andrew became a frequent target of bullies. After the first few times, I stopped worrying because Chad always stood up for Andrew. He made it clear that anyone who messed with Andrew would have to deal with him. He went on to demonstrate it more than once. Andrew, like his father and me, was a small guy. Once fully grown, he was 5' 4" and a whopping 125 pounds. Chad, on the other hand, was always the tallest in his classes. Once finished growing, at 6' 6" he was over a foot taller that Andrew and was easily double his weight in muscle.
During their senior year, Chad's parents had to move away for work. Because the boys were closer to each other than they were to their siblings it was a no-brainer that we would offer up our home for Chad to finish out the year. We knew how difficult it would be for him to start at a new school with only a few months left before graduating. Selfishly, we also knew it would devastate Andrew to lose his closest friend.
We had always liked Chad and did everything we could to make him comfortable after he moved into the guest bedroom. After a few days of uncertainty, he finally relaxed into his new family life. Part of this included walking around wearing only the boxers he slept in. At night before bed and in the morning as he was getting ready for school, he'd travel between his room and the bathroom or occasionally the kitchen for a drink topless. We didn't have a problem with it but our sons, Andrew included, typically wore undershirts when they slept so it wasn't something we were used to seeing. Not only that, but Chad's body was completely out of place in our house. Having turned 18 weeks before moving in, he already had a body that grace the cover of a fitness magazine. Combined with his conservatively styled light brown hair, brown eyes and his solid, square face, he was a handsome young man who could pass for years older. It was easy to see why he was popular with the girls at school.
One morning only a week after moving in, I encountered him in the hall exiting his room to go to the bathroom. He shambled his way across the hall barely acknowledging my presence. Though I was used to this from the other sleepy teens in the house, I couldn't help staring as he bumped into the door jamb of the open bathroom door. What had caught my eye was the huge piss hard-on that was sticking out of the fly of his shorts. Larger than anything I had ever seen outside of a video, I was rooted to my spot by disbelief staring through the barely closed door as he struggled to relieve himself. Part of me wanted to believe it was just the novelty of seeing such a handsome young man exposed that was altering my vision. But the logic of the situation assured me that swaying in front of Chad was indeed an impressive erection. Hearing the toilet flush and seeing him turn to the sink, I scampered away down the stairs hoping he didn't notice me.
A few days later, I passed him again. This time, instead of sticking out of his fly, the top of his erection was peaking above the waistband of his boxers. Though this time I knew what I was seeing, I still couldn't take my eyes off it. Unfortunately, he caught me. I saw him glance down at himself and upon seeing that he was exposed, he shrugged as he stepped into the bathroom.
"I really gotta go," he said. Not bothering to close the door, he lowered the waistband of his shorts beneath his equally impressive scrotum and aimed his rod toward the toilet. His stream started in fits and spurts as he tried to direct it into the bowl.
As I realized I was watching him relieve himself, I reluctantly turned away from the sight to start breakfast.
After that, each morning he would intercept my journey to the kitchen and give me a view of his morning wood. He never moved to cover it and often chatted with me for a few moments either before entering the bathroom or while he stood at the toilet. Most of the time, his erection would rise from his waistband. A few times he left the room without an erection. As we stood and talked his dick would grow, tenting the fabric of his shorts. That seemed more obscene to me than him talking to me with it completely exposed.
I knew that I should have put a stop to it but I was so enthralled by the size of it that I couldn't get enough of seeing it. Unfortunately, by doing so, I realized too late that I was encouraging him. Soon, throughout the day I'd catch him watching me with obvious lust in his eyes. Occasionally, I'd discover him standing silently watching me, massaging his crotch. Each time, I'd be shocked not by his actions but by the fact that he found me attractive. At the time, I was nearing 40 and depressed upon realizing I had turned into my mother. Admittedly, my self-esteem needed the lift so his attention was not unwelcome. That Chad could desire me in the same way he talked about the girls at school was flattering. I hated myself for doing it but I began to flirt with him.
Seeing I was not opposed to what he was doing, his actions quickly progressed to rubbing himself against me. Hard or soft, he began to press his crotch against me every chance he got. If we were in close quarters he would grab my hips and slide himself around me. In the kitchen, he would press his packed crotch against me as he helped me reach for something in a high cabinet.
I soon became enthralled by not just the size of his dick but his entire body. Compared to everyone else in the house, he was a giant. His muscles were nice and solid and I touched them whenever I had the chance to be alone with him. Even when we weren't alone, he began to tease me by sneaking up on me in order to pick me up and carry me around like a rag doll as I writhed against him. At 5' 4" and 120 pounds myself, it was easy for Chad to lift me. Each time I would squeal and fight against him, taking the chance to rub my hands over his body. When he lowered me, he would slide me down his body making sure I felt his concealed hardness.
It was a running joke in our family that nothing short of a bomb could wake Paul, my husband, before his alarm. He was a very heavy sleeper and everyone knew it. This allowed things to begin happening that I know would not have otherwise.
One morning, just over a month after Chad moved in, I was in the ensuite bathroom Paul and I shared finishing my shower. I heard the door open and was surprised that Paul would be up that early. Intending to ask if he felt okay I turned off the water, pulled back the shower curtain and was stunned to see Chad leaning against the open frame of the door.
"What are you doing?" I asked in a harsh whisper.
"I figured that since you've seen what I have, it's only fair that I see what you've been hiding."
His baritone voice echoed in the small room and I shushed him but did not cover myself.
"You know he's not going to wake up," he said dismissively. He took a few steps toward me. After grabbing the towel from the hook, he passed it to me before leaving.
Once dressed, I left the room as normal and expected him to intercept me in the hall. When I passed, I heard him in the bathroom. Even muffled by the sound of the shower running, there was no mistaking his soft moaning. I was flattered that I had that effect on him but part of me was disappointed that I couldn't watch him.
I was working on breakfast when I felt his large body press against mine. His hands moved to cup my breasts.
"I thought you should know I liked what I saw," he said. "You've got a hot body, little momma."
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he pulled away and moved to pour himself juice as Andrew entered the kitchen.
Having upped the ante, Chad continued to enter the bathroom in the morning while I was showering. If I didn't do it then he'd pull back the curtain and watch me wash while he stroked his concealed erection. However, he never masturbated himself to completion in front of me.
I wanted to see it, to ask him to finish while I watched, but I reasoned that if I never verbalized it, I couldn't be held responsible for his actions and could play victim if necessary.
"Mrs. Carlton."
I rolled over and blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the dark room.
