Chapter 1
Sheila Gaines poured a dollop of suntan lotion into her palm and began to smooth it over a long, shapely leg. Appearing intent on what she was doing, Sheila stole a glance or two toward her kitchen window that overlooked the back yard and this end of the pool.
He's watching me again. He's probably jerking off too, she thought then, and a perverse thrill went through her as she pictured him standing there, naked, a fist running up and down a sensational cock.
He was her nephew, Sammy-or Sam, as he now preferred to be called, being a growing boy and all. He and his sister Peg had come to live with Sheila and Burt while they attended college, which started in just over a month. Sheila's own kids were also college bound, but in other parts of the country. That was just how it had worked out.
Sheila knew there had to be a rule somewhere which dictated that she must confront Sam and direct him toward more correct behavior. But she knew how attentive he thought she was, and how difficult it could be for males that age to control their bubbling, horny urges. Besides, he was probably only going through a phase. He would be fine once school got under way and he met some girls his own age.
Lounging back in the chaise, finished with oiling her legs, Sheila spread lotion on the dainty roundness of her tummy. And yes, there was that other reason for her not confronting her nephew. She did welcome the attention, God help her.
Looking down, she smiled inwardly with satisfaction at the ripe fullness of her body, the tautness of her skin. Her tits were still great- plump, uplifted, firm. Her stomach still looked like it belonged on a twenty-year-old. Her hips had taken on a husky flare over the years, but that only served to make her more womanly in appearance.
She spread lotion from the encircling waistband of the bikini bottom up to the bra section, stopping just underneath the jut of her tits. She let her hand trail back down. Her nails sliced under the hugging band, working oil to the very edge of the bikini bottom with her fingertips. Or so it appeared. It was done partly to give Sam a tease. Also, it was done for her own benefit.
There was a wetness between the swelling outer folds of her cunt, and a sweetly itching sensation was reaching slowly inward from her clit. She wondered with rising*excitement what Sam's thoughts were, how far along his arousal was, what his cock looked like.
She'd had a chance to see it recently, and now she wished she had taken it. Returning laundry to his sister Peg's room, she had passed near the bathroom door. A muffled sort of groan had emanated from beyond and, listening, she didn't need to look to know Sam was jerking off.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, what I wouldn't do to get my hands on that beautiful bitch of a woman!" he had cried. "I'd take this hard cock and stick it in her hot mouth and make her suck on it like the slutty cunt she is. And then I'd swing her around and fuck her ... oh yeah, fuck her in the hot, juicy cunt and-ooohhh!"
Sheila had spent the next two days wondering who his dream partner was. Then almost all at once it dawned on her. Sam didn't leave the house much, and he didn't call or get calls from anyone, really. He and Peg had much too wholesome a relationship, so that seemed out . . . Sheila had felt his stares, caught him at it a few times ... it had to be her.
The attention of a man was something she needed as much as anything, and more than most things. As long as she'd had Burt, she hadn't really given it much thought, but then he'd changed, stopped fucking her, and the truth had risen to the fore.
As the day had drawn near for Sheila's kids to leave for their college destinations, she had turned weak at the prospect of having an empty house to take care of. She needed to be busy, especially now that Burt had turned so cold on her. And that was why she had welcomed Peg and Sam into her home with such thankfulness. But now, as it was turning out, the arrangement was producing a real bonus.
There had to be another rule somewhere telling her she should be feeling guilty and ashamed of her thoughts, but it didn't stick. What about the rule that said her husband should take care of her carnal needs? She'd tried to take care of his, damn it. She still tried, but for whatever reason, he'd simply lost interest.
She was so naughty. She had lured Sam out earlier to help oil her back. She'd gotten him to do the backs of her legs too. Then she told him he could come back in forty-five minutes and do her front if he liked.
He took it as teasing, which she supposed it was, but it did tell him when he could expect to see her flipside. Oh yes, he was watching.
The bikini top revealed a fair amount of titer flesh, and Sheila took her time giving it a coat of shiny lotion. She again played her nails under the edges of the covering material, and she thought with another inward smile, he was right -I am a slutty bitch.
She felt the tantalizing tingle of her stiffening nipple-flesh, tiny thrills flirting through the underlying masses of tit and into her voluptuous body. Dainty excitements rushed through her system, down along the slippery walls of her cunt.
Just what did his cock look like? she wondered. Thick? Long? And his balls? Nice and meaty, perhaps?
A shudder went through her with a chilling effect. Shit, I better watch out. Next thing I know I'll be coming on to the kid. As if I haven't already. Shit.
She was alone with nothing to do. All her chores were done. There was just her, and her persistent desires, and that adoring boy, and that big, empty house.
But it was so good to feel sexy again. Desirable, all of it. Beautiful. She had forgotten how good it felt to bring out the beast in a man, and how hot it was when he in turn brought out the beast in her. How much she needed it now.
What does his cock look like? Long and thin? Short and fat? Hard enough, that was for sure. Hard and pulsing with youthful energy, sharply hot, burning wherever it touched her, shiny with salty sweat near the base. Delicious.
Maybe she should try to catch a glimpse. Just a short look to satisfy her curiosity so she could stop wondering and start thinking about something else.
Sheila sighed longingly. She wished he would just walk out here like she had invited him to do. He had a bathing suit of his own and . . .
She would oil his back for him. She wouldn't be shy about oiling his front either. Her mouth watered in response to the mental image she had of a cock-lump straining the material of his swim trunks as it swelled and swelled.
Sheila sat up, swinging both legs off the chaise. Shit, she realized, I'm going to do it. I'm gonna walk in there and try to catch him with his pants down. I'll see that hard-on, and maybe ask if it's for my benefit . . . how flattering. May I take a good look at it? No need to be shy. Nothing new under the sun. If I make your cock ache like it must, then it's only fair I do something about it, yes?
The wickedness of it struck a deep chord in her. It fed the fires of her longing and made them burn hotter. She was pleased by her daring, and all of a sudden there was nothing to hold her back.
It was a short walk up to the sliding-glass doors that allowed entrance to the living room. By coming this way she could head him off before he charged upstairs to finish jerking off, if he hadn't bolted already.
She padded to the kitchen door and peered in. Her heart sank when she found it deserted. She was about to back out when she noticed the w door leading inside was ajar. Crossing to it, she looked out, but there was no sign of Sam.
Had he even been here? she wondered with a rising sense of frustration and disappointment. Might as well settle for a cold shower now, she told herself.
Just then she noticed it. A drop of something on the cupboard door below the sink. It was white and thick, had run down a few inches. Wondering where that could have come from, she discovered other drops and splatters. Moving closer, she saw where others had been wiped off the counter top and sink. Then, looking out the window, she understood.
It was the window that offered the view of the chaise she had been using. The sink was under it, and Sam had stood there, exactly, only moments before, looking out at her as he jerked off. The drops were his spent cum.
She had come in too late to catch him still hard, and too soon for him to properly clean up his mess. He'd taken a few hurried wipes at the counter and fled in the panic of impending embarrassment.
Sheila's eyes focused Oh a splatter of cum on the edge of the sink. It looked honey-thick and about as sweet and pure. A lurid shudder caressed her body as she stared at the spewed-out spunk of her nephew's heated balls.
Her hips leaned casually against the cupboard and she let one finger drift near the whitish splatter. She touched it. The sun, beaming in, had kept it warm for her. Overpowered by curiosity, Sheila wiped up the drop on her fingertip.
She rubbed her thumb against it, in it, feeling the heat and the slickness. Just having to taste the juicy seed, she touched the fingertip to her tongue. Then she was sucking it clean, and her smeared thumb too. She held the pungent flavor on her tongue for a long moment, soaking in the deliciousness of her nephew's jizz.
Searching out another drop of spent cum, she wiped that up and sucked it in. And there was more of the thick cock-stuff. She bent and snatched it up directly with her tongue.
Seized by a terrible urge, Sheila thumbed down her bikini bottom and swept them from her tapered legs. Lifting one knee up to rest on the edge of the counter, she collected a puddle of cream on two fingers and hurried them to her swollen cunt. The wetness already there was promptly covered with Sam's cum as she spread it over and into her parted cunt-slit.
Sheila quaked with horniness and perverse pleasure as she massaged the slick cum into her steamy fuck-slit. She went back for another drop to make sure she had plenty. Then with her other hand she stretched her pussy open and exposed the pulsing clit. She coated the tumid cut with cool jizz and felt it sting sweetly in its new honey coating.
I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought with a warm cringe. But it has to be the funkiest pleasure I've ever experienced.
She slid her fingertip around and around her swollen clit, moving faster and faster, beginning to groan to the feel of yummy churning sensations as they reached out from her clit.
She brought two fingers of her other hand together and slid the tips in between the gooey folds guarding her fuck-hole. She worked cum into her cunt, stroking the sensitive tissues at the same time.
If Peg, or even Sam, were to walk in on her right now, she would die of embarrassment. That fear only served to heighten her excitement, however.
Her eyes lidded and her head rolled back. Her lips puckered. Her fingers worked continuously, rolling her clit one way and another, or tapping it ever so lightly on the crown to send pulses of hot arousal through her streaming pussy. She stroked two and then three fingers into the sucking wetness of her pussy.
Sheila's increasingly fevered mind turned to fantasy to fill the space caused by the lack of a partner. In her mind she was back out there on the chaise. Naked, Sam was astride of it, and her, his cock hard and level with her face as he pumped it. Below and in front of him she was shamelessly frigging her hot cunt, and panting as she awaited the virile jets of his cum.
You love my cock, she imagined him saying, you love my cum. You want it to rain all over your slut body. You want it flooding your mouth and your cunt and your asshole, filling you to overflowing.
God, Sheila realized, I haven't been this turned on in I don't know how long. What's happening to me?
Too excited to think beyond that stage, Sheila pawed fiercely at her wanton cunt, frantic to ease the pounding torment her nephew's presence and her own system had brought her.
She sawed one hand in and out of the clasping, drippy cunt-hole and drummed her fingertip on the magic spot atop the spike of her inflamed clit.
Her tits ached to be free and flopping about, but Sheila wasn't about to lift her hands from the raw pleasure center of her pussy for a split second to loosen any bra.
Sucking air through clenched teeth and groaning with burning excitement, she trembled. Her full ass tightened and her guts bunched. Rich thrills chased up and down her spine as the big moment of climax drew near.
A quick jolt of vivid sensation burst forth from Sheila's cum-drenched clit. In her quivering core, torrid sparks flew and made it all happen. The fireworks of her completion erupted wildly in all directions and seared her system with the burn of total joy.
Her pussy leaped and bucked and spasmed in her clutching grasp with a show of climaxing passion. Even her tits seemed to pulse and tremble with glee.
She lowered her foot to the floor and stood leaning against the cupboard on shaky legs. She fought for air as the brunt of her orgasm passed, as the aftershocks drifted through her body. Her flesh soaked up the delightful sensations and sated Sheila to an extent she hadn't felt in months.
She stood right where she was for long moments, not opening her eyes, not taking either hand from her pussy.
Slowly her mind drifted back to the here-and-now, and she opened her eyes. She was smiling a wide smile that would take a long time to disappear.
Picking up the bikini bottom, she padded from the kitchen, not bothering to put it on. She went upstairs to the bathroom, telling herself how she ought to be ashamed but at the same time still smiling.
Despite the satisfactions cruising her body, she still felt oddly restless. It was as though it all hadn't been quite enough. Her speculative thoughts kept going back to Sam, wondering not just what his cock looked like, but what it felt like as well.
Sheila tried to shake it all off, telling herself she'd had her fun and now was the time to put it behind her. She started to fix dinner, and when Sam came in from wherever, she said nothing of what she'd discovered in the kitchen.
He acted kind of sheepish all through dinner, and she kept thinking how awful it would be if almost getting caught like he had, simply scared him away from trying anything like that again. She wished she could have said something.
Later that night Sheila turned to Burt. One good, old-fashioned fuck from him would cure everything that ailed her. It would save her from crossing over a line that, despite everything, she knew shouldn't be crossed.
But no, he professed to be too tired, and gruffly turned his back. Sheila knew better than to force the issue. It only put him in a worse mood. In short order his breathing steadied and he was asleep.
Sheila already knew what she was going to do.
Waiting a few minutes longer, she slipped out of bed. In the half-light of the room, she checked her appearance in the vanity mirror.
Slut, she thought when her eyes met her reflection. Cock-hungry, man-crazy bitch.
She was beyond caring. She put a robe on over her knee-length, satin nightgown and went out. It wasn't too late to turn back, she told herself. She kept going.
Down the hall, past the head of the stairs, two doors faced each other. One had music coming from the other side-Peg's room. The other offered silence.
Sheila knocked as loudly as she dared on the latter, paused a second, then eased the door open and went in. She found Sam sitting up in bed, covered to the waist by a sheet and naked from the waist up. He had a better build than she expected. With defined muscles and chest hair, not nearly so boyish.
His hands were clasped behind his head, as though he had simply been sitting, thinking. He looked at Sheila with mild surprise and curiosity. Her robe had been left hanging open and his gaze flitted down her flimsy nightgown.
She closed the door and leaned back against it, simply looking at him. It was like being in a dream.
"Sam, darling, I want you to do something for me," she murmured softly.