We laid on the floor, snuggled together in our disheveled state for a while. Unfortunately, as much as I enjoyed the feel of him next to me, my back began to protest. Oliver's young bones could probably sleep on the floor, but mine couldn't.
I gave him a kiss, extricated myself from his arms and got to my feet.
"I need to get dinner started," I offered by way of explanation.
He was starting to get up as I headed down the hall. A quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up a bit then to the kitchen. The lasagna I'd made went into the oven; I checked a few other things then returned to the living room.
Oliver was on the couch, doing something on his phone. He looked up and smiled as I entered the room, plate of Christmas cookies in hand. He took one off the plate and I set it on the coffee table.
"Don't ruin your appetite now," I cautioned.
He grinned, took a bite, then glanced back at his phone.
"How do you feel about ballet?"
"Well, it's nice, I mean, I've seen the Nutcracker a few times, but that's about it."
He hesitated, that nervous look coming back, "I was just thinking, they are performing CoppΓ©lia in a few weeks. I was thinking we could go. You could wear the dress I got you."
I gave him a kiss, "that sounds like a wonderful idea."
He smiled and began typing on his phone. He looked up after a moment.
"And we have tickets."
"Are you into ballet?" I asked.
He hesitated, seeming to collect his thoughts, "Yeah, I guess. I dated a girl in college who was super into it, so we went to several live performances, and she was always watching videos of the Bolshoi and other big companies."
"Have you seen this one?"
"Not in person, but it's a neat show, kind of a romantic comedy, I think you'll enjoy it. And it was the first formal event I could find," he admitted.
We talked about ballet, theatre, and the arts, only pausing when the kitchen timer went off. The conversation continued over dinner. I'd never seen this side of Oliver before, and I found myself wondering what other hidden depths the young man had. My eyes fell on the butter dish, and I started wondering what other hidden depths I had.
"Everything OK?" Oliver asked, bringing me back from my wool gathering.
"Yes, fine, just thinking."
I hesitated, then continued, "can you do something for me, that might sound a little crazy?"
"Sure," he began, then continued with more confidence, " of course, what?"
"Well, a question first. The first time you masturbated you were thinking about me, was that the only time?"
"Oh, God, no, I mean it wasn't you every time, but, definitely a lot."
"Did you have specific fantasies?"
He was blushing a little, and I felt a little guilty making him uncomfortable like this, but I found the whole idea so strangely arousing.
"A few, other times, usually after I saw you, an idea would pop into my head, and after we got home...well...I would think about that."
I smiled and stood up, offering him my hand. He stood as well and took it. I led him back to the bedroom, he stepped in to kiss me, but I gently pushed him back.
"Take off your clothes," I instructed him.
He obediently stripped down; his cock already hard.
"Now lay down on the bed."
Again, he followed my instructions. I walked to the nightstand and took out a small bottle and handed it to him.
I lay down beside him on the bed and he looked back and forth between me and the bottle of lubricant.
"I want to watch you stroke that beautiful cock while you share one of your fantasies with me."
"Really?" he asked.
"Yes, it really turns me on, knowing you were doing that. Knowing of all the women in the world you were fantasizing about me."
He nodded slowly, then squeezed some of the lubricant onto his hand.
I watched as he wrapped his fingers around his hard cock and began to slowly stroke it.
"Well," he began, "do you remember when we had that big storm a few years ago?"
"Yes, I do," I responded. It had been early November my husband was out of town and we got an early winter storm. Temperatures were just above freezing and it rained like crazy. We lost power, and I couldn't get the generator started to run the furnace. I'd called Oliver's dad, he couldn't make it over so he sent Oliver instead.
He'd managed to get the generator started and everything working but by the time he was finished the poor kid was soaked to the bone in near freezing weather.
"It was my freshman year of college," he went on, "and after I got the generator going you sent me straight to the bathroom, told me to strip down and get in the shower to warm me up. While I was in the shower you came in and collected my clothes, to put them in the dryer."
I smiled at the memory, I'd been in full mom mode and it never occurred to me that the young man on the other side of the shower curtain would be thinking about anything but getting warm.
"Talking to you for a moment, through the shower curtain, being naked like that, with you so close got me really excited. I got hard, started stroking myself. Imagining you coming back, slipping into the shower behind me. I tried to turn around but you stopped me, pressing yourself against me, feeling your breasts pressed against my back. Your arms reaching around me, moving my hand out of the way as you started to play with my dick. Telling me you were going to make sure I got nice and warm."
He was stroking faster now, eyes closed as he remembered. I slipped my hand between my legs, feeling my own excitement.
"Your hand felt so good, the feel of your breasts, I knew I wasn't going to last long, then you seemed to sense it, moving back a little using my cock to guide me as you turned me around. Then you kneeled in front of me, still stroking me, looking into my eyes and told me to cum for you. I did, and you kept stroking me, as I came until I was covering your breasts."
I leaned in close to his ear.
"Cum for me baby," I whispered and I was rewarded with a blast of cum, arcing into the air before landing on his stomach, followed rapidly by two more.
I quickly moved down taking the head of his cock in my mouth. Sucking the last of it out, then, something else I'd never done, I moved up his body a little licking the cum spatters off his stomach. Satisfied I'd gotten it all I lay back beside him.
He turned to look at me, and I smiled, "thank you."
He smiled back, "you're welcome, but I wasn't done."
"Really?"
He nodded, then without warning he pressed me onto my back. He moved down my body, lifted my skirt and buried his face between my legs.
I let out a soft moan as his tongue went to work. Between my already aroused state and his enthusiasm I was quickly in the throes of my own orgasm. As I caught my breath Oliver moved beside me.
"Every fantasy needs a happy ending," he announced with a grin before kissing me.
"Yes, it does, " I agreed.
I gave him a quick kiss, then rolled out of bed. The dress came off, and I set it aside before climbing back into bed. With my head resting on his shoulder, I began to gently caress his chest and stomach.
"You know, and this is going to sound strange I guess," Oliver began, "but I really like going down on you like that."
"Lucky for you I really like it too," I replied.
He laughed," it's just that, like in the past I never really minded doing it, but it was just sort of something I did for my partner. With you, I really want to, if that makes any sense."
"It does, it really does. When you were sharing your fantasy and you got to the end, talking about cumming on my breasts. I've never done that before, and it kind of never made much sense to me, but now I really want to try it with you. If you still want to."
He gave me a little squeeze.
"Yes, please. I've thought about that a lot."
I could see his cock beginning to harden, the blessing and the curse of a young lover I thought.
"Anything else you've thought about a lot?" I asked, my fingers caressing down his stomach.