Sin

Part Five

Oh, Mrs. Holder

Thanks to Todger 65 for the edit.

*

I stumbled after Mrs. Holder to the kitchen, trying to keep my over sized shorts from slipping off, swearing under my breath. Mrs. Holder prattled on and on in her high class Connecticut accent. I always thought she talked too much.

"You know, it really is a miracle with the skin cream," she said, going through the cupboards. "You must tell me which doctor prescribed it? I have a nephew with a severe acne problem, and he would love your cream," she stopped and blushed.

"What's she embarrassed about?"

I thought, then went over what she said,

"Oh!"

I kind of giggled at that. Mrs. Holder paused a moment, then chuckled as well. "That didn't come out the way I wanted."

"It was kind of funny, coming from you," I replied.

She turned from the cupboard. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" Her eyebrow was cocked and she had a slight smile. It made me nervous for some reason.

"Well . . . um . . . well . . . well . . . uh . . . you don't really seem, uh . . . humorous." Actually, I wanted to say something other than "humorous" but loose seemed a little offensive and fun didn't quite describe it.

She looked at me with a sly crook on her mouth. "Well Toby, you might be surprised at what I find funny." We stared at each other for a second or so. The kitchen was quiet and a little small, it felt, and then she said, "Your shorts slipped again," and turned back to the cupboard.

"Oh!" I think I blushed, and went to hitch them up, only when I looked down I saw a large bulge in them. I thought,

"Oh shit! Did she see that?! Fuck! She did! God! I'm so fucking embarrassed!"

The thing was, at the time, I couldn't tell if my boner came from the shorts or Mrs. Holder. I had problems, obviously, with my sensitive skin and fabric, but then there was Mrs. Holder in the kitchen and, well, she was kind of hot. I mean . . . Mrs. Holder was always hot. A lot of the guys called her a MILF but her priggishness was kind of a turn off. I remember one of the guys saying, "God, she'd be fuckable if she weren't so . . . Protestant." And her daughter, Sara, got her looks and some of her priggishness but I heard from someone she was actually a tease. I emphasize was. What happened between me and her since . . . well, I'm getting ahead of myself again.

I'm going to digress for a bit and say I know a lot of things about a lot of people. When you look the way I used to and you're ignored, always, people talk around you. I learned early on to listen. You pick up some crazy things when you're invisible. The stories I heard . . . some of the people I knew since I was a kid. I know a lot more now. I kind of wish I didn't but I kind of like that I know too.

"Butter, a little honey, I'd use aloe but it looks like you don't have any. Nana said mint extract makes a good substitute."

Butter? Mint extract? It sounded more like a recipe for frosting than anti-itching cream. "Um, Mrs. Holder, I'm not sure . . ."

"Really Toby, don't be nervous. It works, really." Mrs. Holder put the butter, extract, and honey into the blender and mixed it into a paste. Then she scooped it into a mixing bowl and came to me.

I was standing by the table, kind of nervous, not knowing why. She'd been in the house dozens of times but usually with Mom. She was like my aunt. I guess being half naked, trying to hide an erection, and keep my shorts from sliding off had a lot to do with it.

Mrs. Holder, when she came near, stopped with a thoughtful look, "Uh, the kitchen is not a good place to try this. Why don't we go to the patio out back?"

"Um, er." I wasn't thinking very well at the moment. I was also kind of aware of a smell. It wasn't really strong, more like a whiff, sort of perfumy. The smell was familiar. I didn't get it at first, but then I realized it was the sandalwood/pine smell from the alienslug's shit, only it came from me.

"Shit! I smell like alien shit! Fuck! Does she know?!"

"Toby, your face is red. Is something the matter?"

"Oh! Er! Um! Uh, no Mrs. Holder. It's just . . . well . . . um, maybe I should do this myself. It's kind of awkward . . ."

"Ah! Well, yes I can see how it looks," Mrs. Holder agreed. "Well . . . let's see. Toby, I used to be a nurse. I worked with lots of patients, many of them in various states of undress. So it's no real trouble to see you like this. At least under these circumstances. If it's awkward for you, though . . ."

Now, when she said that, I started to say, "Uh yes," 'cause I really thought it was awkward, strange, unusual, and just plain weird; but then a little voice in my head said, "Whoa there fella. Let's see where this goes," and that was strange 'cause I never heard that voice before. It was not one of those weird schizo voices. I didn't know what it was; opportunity maybe? So I said, "I guess not. I just thought it would be awkward for you."

"Oh nonsense! Shall we go?"

Looking back, I don't know if what happened afterward was because of my changes, or maybe Mrs. Holder had a hidden agenda. She could have spread her "home remedy" on me in the kitchen, see? While I was standing up, instead of lying down on the patio . . . where no one could see us.

I don't know. Maybe the idea came to her when she saw me in nothing but those shorts. But I think, maybe, while she might have started the whole thing, the rest was more me than her. Certainly, right now, because of what we've done many times, she's more than Mrs. Holder to me.

I guess I'll have to describe how it started in detail, but I have to tell you I'm not boasting, even though most guys my age would shit themselves with envy.

We got a towel. We went to the back patio. I spread it and laid, I mean lay down on my stomach. Mrs. Holder put the bowl down and knelt beside me. My face was turned away, resting on my arms. I was very aware of my erection. It wasn't so prominent lying on my belly but against the wood floor, it felt uncomfortable. Plus, the way my shorts rode around my waist, or not at all actually, left a lot of my butt crack visible.

"So," she said, "I guess we're ready then? Just relax, Toby. It works, promise."

It didn't work, at least the way it was supposed to. The instant her fingers touched my back, it was like a thousand feathers dropped on me, all tickling. I went "Marp!" and jerked a little.

"Is something the matter?"

"Um, nothing Mrs. Holder. You're just a little ticklish, that's all."

"Oh? Well, how does this feel?" she played her fingers across my back.

"Hee! Hee! Narf! Mrs. Holder!" I was a bit annoyed and exasperated, not to mention embarrassed. Here I was, half naked, squirming, with a throbbing cock, and a hot MILF was tickling my back. Moreover, the squirming was causing my shorts to slide down, exposing more of my ass. I would have been more embarrassed but I think I reached a saturation point. Besides, a part of me was actually thrilled. I didn't know it at the time. I just realized it right now.

"Sorry," Mrs. Holder laughed. "I couldn't resist."

She started to spread the paste across my back. I squirmed some more, trying to keep from giggling, but she didn't tell me to keep still. As she spread the paste, though, her fingers grew less ticklish. "I think it's working Mrs. Holder."

"Of course," she said. "Mom always knew the best remedies."

I never knew why the paste worked. Maybe it was the mint. I can't say my skin was numb or anything. It was still a bit sensitive but not in a bad way. I was aware, very aware, of Mrs. Holder's fingers on the back of my neck, my shoulders, down my back, to just above my crack. It felt good; I felt good, if nervous.

"You know, Toby, you have the softest skin? I've never felt skin this soft," Mrs. Holder was nearly whispering, almost like she was talking to herself.

I didn't know what to say. It was hard enough trying to deal with an erection. I think I had precum on my shorts.

"Your skin cream really did its work. I don't see a single blemish on you, and you smell great. Is that the skin cream?"

I'd ignored my alien shit smell, what with Mrs. Holder's fingers and all, but now I was aware my sandalwood-pine smell was kind of intense. I didn't want to tell her she was smelling alien shit so I just said, "I guess so."

"Well, you must tell me what kind. Maybe it's on the market. Whew! Is it getting warmer?"

I remember the day was kind of warm, not exactly sunbathing weather, but warm enough. "It is kind of nice out here, Mrs. Holder." I said it just to say something. Actually I muttered it. I was sort of drifting at the time. Her hands seemed to be all over my back, and my cock was throbbing harder than ever, and it just felt so good. I think I moaned a little. I don't know if Mrs. Holder heard. She might have, I think. It might explain what happened next, sort of. Not all of it . . . just sort of.

I mean, if it'd just been a regular massage or rubdown or whatever you call it, then Mrs. Holder would have kept her hands, maybe, around my shoulders, or my legs, or my back, at least above my butt; but her hands inched lower and lower, and the closer they got to my ass, the more nervous I became.

Only it wasn't the kind of "nervous" where you think someone's going to touch a place no one's supposed to touch. One of the hottest milfs in the neighborhood was going near my ass so it was a different kind of nervous . . . a nice kind . . . sort of.

"You know, um Toby, you um, seem a little tense near your, um, legs. Do you think you could . . . uh . . .?"

Now this is where I think things really changed for me. Not when I was abducted, or when my skin condition was cured, but right here. I mean, when she asked that question, my mind literally went blank.

Mrs. Holder had just asked me to take my shorts off. Mrs. Holder had just asked me to get naked. Well, that's how I heard it. She didn't exactly say it, but what else did she mean?

I mean, I could have said no. People listening to this will think I probably should've, and technically everything about it was wrong. I'd just turned eighteen and she was almost forty. It was pervert central, creepy on the surface; but I didn't think it was creepy, not in my head. Besides, I'd been, literally, in the belly of a beast so what's naked compared to that? So I didn't say anything. I just took my hands, undid the button, and wriggled out.

I didn't even look at her. I just lay on my belly, my ass out there, and my shorts down my legs.

She didn't say anything either. I felt her hands pull my shorts off, so now I was totally naked.

I wish I could say I knew what was going to happen next but I didn't . . . really. I mean, on some level, I think I knew, but this never happened to me before. Remember, I used to be butt ugly, and nudity was more an embarrassment to me, and so was sexual fantasy. I wasn't really expecting anything.

It was more about things moving from one level to the next, and seeing what happens. Plus, I wasn't sure the whole thing was real. I was expecting the doorbell to ring, or my parents to call and break whatever weird spell was happening right then; or maybe I'd wake up and I'd be my miserable toady self, only with creamed underwear.

No doorbell rang, no phone called, and I was naked on the patio. The whole thing was kind of crazy; hyper-real, yet dreamy at the same time.

Everything was quiet except for a few birds and Mrs. Holder's breathing. Her breaths were heavy. She hadn't done anything after taking my shorts off, except place her hands on my ass. I didn't say anything or do anything except listen to her breathe.

Mrs. Holder's breath sounds sexy, like someone you hear in bed on a warm night. I also noticed my alien smell increased a bit. Might explain her heavy breathing; I think she was smelling me.

She spoke, I mean when she spoke, her voice was low, kind of husky. "I, uh, I didn't realize you were so . . . well shaped." I hadn't realized it either. I still don't.

I can't tell if she was talking about my body or ass, cock, whatever. I say this because she started rubbing me down again, only she focused on my ass. My cock and balls were right there too. No way Mrs. Holder wouldn't notice. I knew if she touched any of that, I'd blow. She seemed to know it too, so she kept her focus on my ass. She didn't exactly dip into my crack, and she worked her way down my legs fairly quick.

I was moaning a bit overall, but I got the feeling Mrs. Holder was simply trying to work fast 'cause she had something else in mind.

"Tobias, would you like to turn over? So I can work on your front?"

She sounded really breathy here. Almost like Kathleen Turner.

"I would like very much to turn over,"

I thought, but I was very much nervous too. I mean, exposing my front like that? Pretty silly, huh? She'd already seen enough.

Now, I wasn't really cocky. I didn't say "Why sure Mrs. Holder!" like some idiot jock or porn star wannabe. I mean, I wasn't saying much of anything, except "Moan!"

Really, nothing like this ever happened to me. It was like new rules were being set. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I said nothing and turned over. Besides, my dick hurt.

Lying on the patio with a swollen cock had been uncomfortable. Now I was on my back and my dick was up straight, and I felt kind of embarrassed. Now I said earlier my cock looked bigger in the shower 'cause all the warts and pubic hair had disappeared. Well, lying on my back made it look bigger still.

It was swollen and pink, much like the rest of my body, 'cause I was kind of blushing. It really seemed silly, blushing like that, but it felt different, like when you're in the movies and you're doing a nude scene, only it's a full frontal rather than ass shot.

So I was lying there, watching Mrs. Holder, nervous. Things were beyond anything I could barely imagine. My alien smell was so thick you could cut it. I think I sweated a bit. I think my eyes were wide. I think I licked my lips.

Mrs. Holder wasn't looking at me. She was looking at my dick; her look was strange. I guess you could call it . . . I don't know . . . pensive?

She didn't say a word. She rubbed some paste on her hands and, just like that, started stroking my cock. She didn't hesitate either; one moment she was looking, the next, a woman was touching my cock for the first time in my life.

There was a bead of precum on my cock tip. Mrs. Holder touched a finger to it. I kind of flinched, just for a second. It left a stringy trail when she brought her finger back to her mouth. I don't know why I go into crazy details like that. Maybe I'm trying to preserve as much of the moment as I can.

She sucked on her finger for a bit. I got to admit, a part of me sorta thought, "Eeewww!" I mean, I was kinda naive about sex, especially when it came to bodily fluids. I'd heard about blow jobs . . . getting ahead of myself. I'll talk about it later. I just never thought about people, well, drinking the stuff, you know?

Mrs. Holder took her finger out of her mouth. She had a look, kind of dreamy; she was looking at my cock. "I've always loved licking frosting off the spoon," she whispered. My cock was the spoon. The next second she practically engulfed it.

I knew by then this was bound to happen; it was still kind of a shock. There's knowing and there's happening. It wasn't like she lowered her head slowly and inched her mouth down, or like she looked at me and asked for permission, and I said yes like the eighteen-year-old virgin I was (only a month ago? Geez!). She just opened her mouth and sucked me in.

I didn't have time to react, really. I was spread out and my hands were on the floor, and Mrs. Holder was kneeling in her Sunday dress, bobbing her head on my cock. I'm looking back on it now. It's still kind of dreamy, you know? I was experiencing something a lot of eighteen-year-old guys fantasize about, you know? A hot milf blowing me like a scene out of an eighties teen sex flick, and keep in mind Mrs. Holder was hot.

I always used to hear the other guys talk about Mrs. Holder in the locker room, usually in relation to her daughter, and how they wanted to fuck one or the other or both. When I thought back to those locker room talks, I smiled.

"Holy fuck!"

I beat them! They fantasized, I was actually doing it! Me! Toby the Toad! Or just plain Toad! Well, not Toad anymore; fucking the hottest milf in the neighborhood. Well, actually she was fucking me, which made it better 'cause it meant she actually wanted me. Being wanted sexually was just so . . . alien, I never even dared dream about it.

Now it was happening, with a woman; someone technically even more unobtainable than her daughter, and that was saying a lot.

I reached out and ran my fingers through her hair. I remember the silky feel, and the way it hung over her cheeks, touching my groin.

I remember her mouth, warm and wet, stroking me, her lips like tiny pillows. I remember her tongue, like a wet silk cloth, ticklish but so . . . It's hard to describe.

I was really throbbing, rock hard, harder than I'd ever been in my whole life. Sometimes her teeth would slide across my skin, but it didn't hurt. I think it made me harder.

Mrs. Holder really swallowed me deep. I mean, I could feel the tip of my cock slide across the roof of her mouth, going all the way to the back. I look back today and say, "Wow!" I wasn't saying it at the time. I wasn't thinking of anything really, except Mrs. Holder and my cock. Right now I'm thinking of Mrs. Holder and her husband, and wondering what she did when she was younger. I mean, how did she get so good? And she was good, really good.

I didn't know it at the time since she was my first, but I've gotten more experience now. It's just that . . . she always seemed so formal and stuck up and . . . Protestant, and now she was bobbing her head on my cock like a . . . well . . . a prostitute, with experience, you know?

I'm saying all this in hindsight. Really, like I said, I wasn't thinking very much. I was cumming a lot. My skin was kind of sensitive, remember? She'd already had me hard, so I started cumming as soon as she started sucking.

Her hands were all over my groin. One was stroking my cock, the other was on my balls, and it felt like my whole body was getting touched all at once.

I kept quiet as she sucked me. You know when people fuck, they say cuss words like fuck, cunt, slut, those kind of things? I didn't. I never was the type to cuss too much, or think "slut" when it came to girls . . . except maybe Sara Holder and her clique. I don't see much purpose or reason to be all cussy when I have sex. Kind of odd 'cause I've only been at this for a month or so.

Really, I was just moaning and grunting all the time. Come to think of it, I did say a few things, actually. Mostly they were moans, "Oh, Mrs. Holder!"

I wasn't just lying there while she blew me either. My body wouldn't be still, couldn't really, what with all the sensitivity.

It was sort of bobbing up and down, like an arch or stomach crunches, I guess. I guess I was thrusting into her mouth too, as she went down on me.

I was barely aware of the wooden deck. My left hand was on her neck, stroking it. My other hand was on the deck, opening and closing like a fist. I remember other sounds like a bird singing, and a soft breeze in the leaves, and faint wet sounds, slurping I guess. She also gulped but I couldn't see her throat working. Her hair hid it. She might have moaned a few times but I'm not sure.

At some point, she stopped. I can't remember when. She didn't simply open her mouth and take out my cock. She used her tongue like my cock was a lollipop. Her lips were like a squeegee, so there wasn't much cum wasted. She gulped it all down. She lingered at my tip, sucking the rest of my jizz, like my dick was a straw.