Jenny a 37 years old married woman with 36D, 30 and 38 frame, high octane when it comes to her sexual urge, closest friends only knew what that means. She had been an extremely horny bitch since her early teens. She remembered that she used to get her underwear wet and chills all over her body and always felt tingling sensation in her pussy. Over the years what might be the reason that she knew that was some kind of rare condition word of speaks, in younger years her clit developed different than other girls it became very sensitive and that was why her underwear used to get wet at very young age and when she got married got even more sensitive.
When she had her first sexual intercourse she felt the same sensation coming from inside her pussy and she screamed like a porn actress and she squirted like a water fountain, that scared her very much that she even went to her gynecologist and expressed her that her concerns, she told her that what she was feeling was not common but it was normal and she told her congrats because that was going to make her a happy woman.
She enjoyed pretty much sex but the problem was that when she saw something that she liked, she has to try it at least once. If she liked it and she kept it. If didn't she let it go but she didn't let nobody to push her or boos her around she wanted what they have as long it was available she could get it her way if not she could go somewhere else, and they wanted what she have and they could get it her way and on her terms and it was available when she said.
Tim pauses at his step-mother's door and hears her crying. He silently curses his father. He must have hurt her again. His hopes that things might have improved between his parents over the last few months since his absence seem to have come to nothing.
After knocking softly on the door he waits. She answers after a moment, and despite the tears staining her pretty face, she looks happy to see him.
"Hi hon."
"Hi, Mom, are you OK?"
"Hmm, not really actually. Your dad left me."
"Again, well he will be back. He always comes back."
Jenny looks at her young step-son. She has been keeping the truth from him for the past few months. Tim had left for college, at the end of the summer shortly after which Stuart had up and left her. This was the time for good.
He was eighteen and a freshman away from home for the first time. She simply had not wanted to burden him with her marital problems as he tried to get settled in his new environment.
"Look honey, come downstairs with me and I will tell you the truth."
Ten minutes later they are sitting next to each other in front of the fire on this cold December night. The den is dark and silent except for the crackle and pop of the glowing fire. They are both sipping on full glasses of red wine she just poured them.
He stares at his step-mother as she sips on her glass of wine. As always he is smitten by her beauty. Jenny was a beauty who, at the age of 37, had a mature graceful appearance that only seemed to get better with time. She had a nice slim figure - not too tall, 5′ 4″ while weighing 110 pounds. Her hair was raven black and beguiling falling just past her shoulders matching nicely her flawless complexion.
Jenny won a couple of local beauty contests when she was younger a fact which surprised her young step-son not in the least. Best of all, she was a true coquette, loving to flirt and always smiling.
As a step-mother she was blessed with a gentle disposition, kindness, patience, and a wonderfully big heart full of undying love for her only step-child. To her second husband she was caring, faithful, romantic, and loyal to a fault. Sadly none of this was appreciated much by Stuart who was a faithless womanizer who basically took advantage of his second wife's loyal nature.
And now she was drinking a fact which secretly thrilled Tim as his step-mother tended to become quite warm and friendly after a glass or two of wine. The thrill of watching her drink is somewhat offset by the disappointment in what she was wearing.
On some occasions, especially when they were alone, Jenny could be quite the show off in the way she dressed around her young step-son. But apparently she was not in a show off mood that night for she was wearing a thick fuzzy white robe that completely covered that sweet sexy figure of hers.
He reaches out and touches her arm lightly as they sit side by side on the sofa across from the fire. "So what is it, Mom? Why are you crying? He left you before and you never cried. Not that I remember."
"This time it's for good honey. That is what I have been avoiding telling you for the past few months. He left for good this time, shortly after you went off to college. I didn't want you to worry so I said nothing."
"Yeah but how do you know it's for good? He left before and always returned."
"Tommy . . ." She takes his hand into hers and squeezed it gently. "The divorce papers have already been signed by the both of us. Its final . . . and well he has already been living with his new girlfriend."
"Seriously, Jesus no wonders he has been avoiding my calls. And Christ you should have said something, Mom. I would have come home."
"And that is exactly why I didn't . . . just because I knew you would have wanted to drop everything to rush home and comfort your mommy."
"I guess you know me that well?"
"I do." She looks at him and smiles. The wine, her fragile mood, the warm intimacy of the cozy den and its glowing romantic fire is all combining to create a warm glow deep inside her heart.
But most especially, after being away from her beloved Tommy for so long, three and half months, that is 107 days to be exact, now him being home - and their being alone together on his first night home- something seems magical about this evening.
Now the smile, by careful design, turns into a frown. Always attuned to his mother's moods he notices the frown.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing . . . everything. I just missed you. I want to talk but . . ."
"But?"
"But it's warm in here. The fire you know."
"We can talk somewhere else. The kitchen maybe. The living room."
"The kitchen. Hmm no . . . it's not comfortable and as for the living room no way. Too many bad memories . . . of your dad sitting there stupid drunk in his easy chair barking orders at me. Here in the den is actually the perfect place to talk. This was my place. Our place actually as remember he never came in here."
"Yeah right, mother I remember. We used to cuddle in front of the fire on cold winter's evenings."
"Yes, that was nice. Real nice in fact."
"Are you saying you maybe you want to cuddle like before, Mom?"
"Do you? God knows I could use a little cuddling. I'm not feeling very good about myself."
"Well I would be happy to cuddle with my Mommy. You know, relive old memories, but then with my arms around you and you would be really too warm . . . and you are already complaining about it being too hot in here. I guess I could put the fire out."
"Then it will be too cold," she whines knowing she is hard to please while at the same time knowing full well Tim will do anything to appease her no matter how difficult she is being. It works, of course.
"First too hot, then too cold . . . Jesus, Mom!!"
"I know, I know . . . I am hard to please. I don't want you to put out the fire anyways. It's soothing to watch the flames dance about."
"But if it makes you uncomfortable."
"Well maybe if we don't move so close to the fire. We could just stay here on the couch I will be alright."
"Yeah we could that. You could also maybe take off your stupid old lady robe, Mom."
She smiles at him as this is the opening she has been waiting for. "What you don't like your mom's thick fuzzy robe son."
"Not really. It's well not to be mean, but it's not exactly appealing."
"Yeah, well, the problem is . . . what I am wearing underneath my ugly robe hon."
"Pajamas would be my guess."
"Guess again."
"Tee shirt and shorts maybe."
"Hmm, no."
"Ahh, nothing."
"Yeah you wish," she laughs reaching out and ruffling his full head of golden brown hair.
He flushes red at her wisecrack a fact that doesn't go unnoticed by her. Jenny has always suspected her son is a bit more attracted to his step-mother than maybe normally a son should be, but instead of being repelled by this fact, the truth is she finds it to be quite flattering.
"You want to hear the God's honest truth hon. Can you handle it?"
"Of course," he fires back still smarting from her wisecrack.
"I am wearing a bra and panties."
"So big deal, Mom, I have seen you in your underwear before."
"Yeah, true, but not since you were young and most especially what I am wearing now is not the bra and panties you remember from years ago."
"Really, well what is so special about them?"
"First tell me something. You say you remember me from before in my underwear?"
"Yes."
"And what do you remember?"
He shifts uncomfortably on the couch. He doesn't want his step-mother to think he is some kind of pervert from him remembering how she looked in her underwear.
He takes a large swallow of his wine hoping it will allow him to relax a bit. He is not much of a wine drinker and the large swallow has the desired effect.
She senses his uneasiness. "I asked honey, so tell me. Don't worry I won't think anything bad."
"OK, well, since you asked. I remember you always seemed to prefer white and . . ."
"And? Tell me, be honest."
"There is nothing to tell. I guess white mainly."
"I will say it for you. White and boring."
"Yeah . . . maybe."
"Well hon, the underwear I am wearing tonight is quite the opposite. Colorful and exciting I guess you could call it."
"Really?"
She can see he is curious- which is exactly what she wants him to be.
"Here is the story. I bought what I am wearing maybe two years ago . . . along with a bunch of other sexy stuff. You know lingerie type things. I had hoped of . . . like . . . sparking an interest in your father toward me."
