Forbidden: phtlc & lowblow emma

Bill didn’t respond to my question, so I assumed that he was absorbed with the task. He was certainly being very thorough and methodical in what he was doing. And very effective too. I didn’t want him to stop, but there’s a limit to how much pleasure a boy of his age could get working on the shoulders of a woman old enough to be his mother. Now with my husband it would be different; he understood the pleasure he was giving me and the pleasure he would earn in return. For him, however tedious it might be, it was a price worth paying.

‘Bill,’ I said a little louder this time so that he would notice, ‘Bill, this is fantastic. Why don’t you work further down my back?’ I didn’t wait for a reply. After all, it wasn’t really a question, more of a request, even a command. ‘It’ll be easier for you if I lie down.’

Easier for me too. It would let me relax without risking dropping my bra completely. I shuffled backwards, pushing gently at Bill in order to make enough space to allow me to lie down alongside him. I pushed my legs out, making my dress ride further up right to the bottom of my ass, but he’d be concentrating on my back so that shouldn’t embarrass him. As I eased my chest down onto the sofa, I pulled my bra away and let it drop onto the floor. My weight pushed my breasts into the soft plush covering on the sofa, which seemed to caress me as, I anticipated, Bill would shortly caress my back.

‘Bill,’ I looked over my shoulder at him, ‘you’re a real treasure. I just know we’re going to have so much fun together.’

Everything seemed to almost be getting under control she upped the ante by suggesting I do the whole back. Taking a deep breath, I respond saying "Sure" yet realize that I have to be careful to control myself. Of course placing my hands further down her back might be a bit exciting, so I would have to focus on breathing deeply.

When she lowered herself face down, her dress slid up, literally exposing her whole thighs right up to just under the buttocks and I almost gasped. For just the briefest of moments, I glimpsed the back of her left thigh up to the point where it met the panty line. She had amazing thighs!! Her dress adjusted down a bit so it was quickly covered. That said, the upper part of her dress was lowered down to the point where it met the waist line of her panties, and with the lower part of her dress up almost at her buttocks, it was almost as though she was a fully naked woman with only some material draped over her.

Most noticeable however was that the way the dress draped on the part of her it covered, it showed that she had a very well formed ass, and for a brief second I was awestruck at how beautiful her body was. How can she be my mother's age? It doesn't seem believable. I already found myself getting excited again, feeling the swelling begin in my pants and immediately started focussing on breathing again.
Keep thinking of Gregs two grandmothers and his fat uncle! I reminded myself.

Swallowing I cleared my throat and responded. "I'm looking forward to it Mrs Thorpe" I said with a smile. I sure hope that didn't sound as stupid as I think it did I worried. As for the "fun" she referred to, I didn't think I could take much more of this without having a heart attack.


Reaching out tentatively with my hands, I placed them on her back, almost going breathless at the feel of her soft skin, and her toned body. Two grandmothers and fat uncle!..... Two grandmothers and fat uncle! ..... Two grandmothers and fat uncle! .

Working over her back I slowly massaged the sore muscles, both thrilled to be putting my hands on this beautiful woman, yet ashamed of the fact that I even had such a thought. I had been raised in a fairly religious family, I mean not to the point of craziness but still we had some strong views and getting aroused over my moms friend, who was taking time out of her life to help us and look after me was clearly wrong. It's just that she was so sensual that my entire mind and body seemed focussed on the urges she was bringing out in me. Is this normal? I'm pretty sure I can't be the only guy who would go crazy at using his hands on this semi naked gorgeous woman. Does she have any idea what she is doing to me? How hot she is?

Slowly my hands worked down her back, releasing the tension in her muscles. I still struggled to look around the room a lot, to avoid staring too much at her body lest I get excited again. My erection had softened to the point where it would not likely be noticeable unless someone made a point of looking right at it, unlike before where it was a blatant tent pole a person would spot even with their peripheral vision. Thank god her back was fully turned I thought, blushing.


Working slowly down her back, I made my way eventually to her lower back, just above the point where her dress had been pulled down to. It felt soooo good to be putting my hands on her body, and combined with her sensual moans, the intoxicating scent of her perfume and the feel of her tender yet firm body under my hands was sheer torture as I struggled to not get hard again. Breath....deep in.....slow out..... and think of the two grandmothers and fat uncle......and do not look at or think about her well formed buttocks!!!!!

"How am I doing Mrs. Thorpe?" I asked as my thumbs pressed in on the lower back muscles.

The thing about Bill is that he’s not going to take advantage. I’m sure of that and I need to be because I am in a vulnerable position here. Face down and sunk into this luxury sofa with my bra on the floor and my dress around my hips and waist. What full blooded male wouldn’t want to take the chance of a peek at my ass or to test the boundaries with a finger under the waistband of my panties. Oh so accidental of course, and ready to retreat if rebuffed with a quick apology and ready excuse, but willing to probe further if I didn’t object, and able to proceed at speed if invited. But not Bill. He’s not like that. After knowing him for just a few hours now, I’m sure of that.

Lying flat like this allows me to relax. No more worries about my bra falling off. And with that worry put aside, I can surrender to my feelings as Bill’s fingers move slowly down my back. It’s good to experience a new man’s hands. There’s a lot to be said for familiarity, no doubt about it, when the guy knows what works best and how to tease and arouse. But there’s a lot to be said for unfamiliarity too, when the guy is having to explore and I can’t be sure what he will do next, or what effect it will have, or what new sensations he will evoke. My body sinks deeper into the cushions.

And my mind wanders too. With anyone else, anyone other than this boy who is now in my care, I know where this would lead. Those fingers would approach my waist, as Bill’s are now. They would hover and then probe gently and when I didn’t resist, they would work gently under the waistband digging into my buttocks. I would sense the man’s thrill at having his hands on my naked ass, feeling those mounds for the first time, the ones he had been admiring all evening when he thought I wouldn’t notice. And then his fingers would hook under the waist and my panties would be dragged across those buttocks and down the back of my thighs, leaving me exposed to his gaze, and whatever else might follow.

But, I sigh, not with Bill. He hasn’t so much as shift his position to get a peek up my skirt. I’d have felt him move if he had. And those fingers have been moving more and more slowly as they approached my lower back. As if he didn’t want his journey down my spine to end. I reach back instinctively and touch his leg, stroking it gently in recognition of the pleasure he is giving me.

‘Bill, Bill, that’s so nice. Please don’t stop. Go on, please, go on.’

My efforts to control myself seem to be working despite how exciting I find the current situation. When she walked in here she was just another woman my mom's age. While she had a pretty face I don't recall seeing anything particularly sexual about her, but then in fairness she was bundled up in a big jacked due to the cold. Once she removed that and stood in her dress it was clear she took care of her body. Now however, semi naked, letting my hands roam all over her body she's a sexual goddess, beautiful, sensual....perfect. And somehow with my hands on this semi naked beauty I'm supposed to stay in control of myself.

My thoughts were distracted by the feel of her hand on my leg, right near my knee. The feeling of this woman touching me was incredible, but then she started sliding her hand up my thigh. I had to restrain a gasp at this, particularly at the feel of her hand moving assertively up my thigh, in the direction of my crotch. My mouth opened in a silent gasp. I knew she had no intention of touching me there, but just having her hand move near there was exciting.

Immediately my inconvenient reaction returned. No!...Not the woody!...Not the woody! I cursed silently, at how quickly all my efforts at self control were reversed as the bulge in my pants pressed out obviously, like a mark of shame. Shame at my sin of............. Lust?. Shaking the thought away, I tried to refocus on again getting rid of an erection Oh my god I'd just die if she saw this.
Of course while shaking my head, I got a good look at her thighs, and marvelled at how luscious they looked, mesmerized at what it would feel like to be touching them with my hands. Of course that little slip of the mind made the erection trying to tear through my pants almost painful. Of course to add to this, she spoke in such a sensual voice, encouraging me to go on that it was driving me wild.

I tried to rededicate myself to thinking about Greg's grandmothers and uncle, but my mind now was determined to think of Mrs Thorpe's gorgeous thighs, her nicely toned buttocks, her intoxicating perfume, her husky voice, the exciting feel of her flesh in my hands at this moment and her hand stroking my thigh, moving towards my crotch, then moving away from it, then towards it..............I was rapidly losing this battle

The soft embrace of the sofa and the rhythmic massage of Bill’s hands lulled me towards a sleep. I was no longer there is a strange house with a child to look after. I was back at home with my husband kneeling beside me, his hands taking away my stress and strains, my aches and pains. His progress but inexorable. Soon he would ease my dress and panties over the bulge of my ass and down my legs. Soon he would part my thighs and I would feel his legs rubbing against mine as he raised my hips. There would be his initial gasp as the tender tip of his cock rubbed against the sharp ends of my pubic hairs, followed by a long moan as he powered his cock into my cunt matched by my own groan as he stretched me open. My hand would move back to him to register my pleasure.

Except. Except this wasn’t the muscular leg of my former football player husband. This was the athletic leg of a baseball player. With no hair. This was the leg of … Shit and double shit. This was Bill's leg with my hand approaching the top.

In a second I was wide awake and sitting upright in surprise. As my breasts came clear of the sofa, I realised where I was and who I was with. Instinctively one hand shot across protectively just in time.

‘Bill, sorry,’ I gasped in a fluster. ‘Sorry, I must have dozed off and was dreaming.’

My bra, where was my bra? What a mess. My clothes were barely covering me and my bra was somewhere on the floor. I couldn’t allow myself to drift off again. I’d only been separated from my husband for a few hours. Who knows where my thoughts would lead after a whole month?

‘Look, Bill,’ I tried frantically to think of a way out of this with some decorum, ‘why don’t you find my bra while I make myself decent. Then I’ll give your shoulders and back a massage so that you can feel how wonderful it is. You’ll need to get that shirt off for me.’

With one hand barely containing my tits, the other pulled my dress down over my thighs, as I waited for Bill to hand me my bra.

As her hand approached the line where my skin met the line of my athletic shorts, I started to gasp, thinking her hand was going to glide under the material towards my privates when suddenly she gasped and jerked herself upwards. As she did so, she exposed herself for the briefest of moments, less than even a second. For that moment I'm not sure but I detected that her right breast flashed nipple for just a microsecond, before she remembered she was topless and covered herself.

Fortunately the way I was kneeling helped hide the bulge in my shorts, the mark of shame. She was apologizing, but if she saw what my body was doing I would be the one doing so. I prayed she wouldn't do anything that would require me to stand or the erection would be obvious and I would be humiliated.

She looked around frantically as though trying to find something, and when she asked me to find her bra I just about did a double take.
"Uhm, OK", I said trying to move in such a way that I keep my frontal pelvis concealed from her. Fortunately, her bra had hit the floor near the end of the couch and I was able to grab it without getting off my knees, making it look like I was down there anyway. I still had the problem with the fact that in a moment she would get up and naturally I would be expected to do so also and when that happened she would see what was going on.

Give me a massage? I thought incredulously. Seriously?. While on one hand getting a massage from this beautiful looking woman seemed utterly luxurious, I was almost terrified that if she did so I would lose all self control. Do you have even the faintest idea the effect you're having on me Mrs. Thorpe? I thought as I handed her the bra, but of course she didn't. She was a nice lady and never would have imagined what sinful urges were growing in me.

Me? Shirtless with her putting her hands on me? The very thought made my erection swell even more, as I tried desperately to get it to go down. I figured that at this stage the best thing I could do is get myself face down, since that would at least cover the tent pole.
Removing my shirt, I felt a bit self conscious at the idea of being shirtless in front of a grown woman. Sure I was fit, but I had absolutely no chest hair, not even peach fuzz. My chest was as smooth as silk with soft skin.

"OK, I guess that sounds quite nice Mrs. Thorpe, if it's not too much trouble for you" I said politely, trying to hide how excited I was at having her hands on my shirtless back.

Laying face down, I waited for her to begin, as I tried to control my excitement and breathing.

Again his words don’t match his action. He seems reluctant to agree to a massage; he sounds as if he is only doing it to humour me. But he is quick to get his top off and lie down on the sofa. It’s like he can’t wait to get started.

I hike up my skirt and climb astride him, my knees gripping his hips. This position always reminds me of my first sexual awakening. Like so many girls it happened when I began riding. For a start there was that exhilarating feelings of having to spread my legs. The rest of the time we were encouraged to keep our knees modestly together. But on a horse they were spread wide with the crotch exposed for all to see – modestly, of course, in the jodhpurs, but there on display. At first I felt self conscious, showing myself shameless to my friends, their mothers, their brothers, and their fathers too. All watching as much as they wanted. But later came the realisation that this was a thrill, to know they were looking.

Soon the sensation of the horse’s movements had their effect. the sway of their bodies as they walked and then the bouncing as they moved into a gallop. All stirring up feelings, exaggerated by the rubbing of my tight clothing. And most of all, as my mastery of the animal increased, the feeling of power. The ability to use my thighs and knees to control this powerful animal.

Finally talking to friends, watching their expressions as they rode, listening to them talking quietly among themselves, I understood that these were not my own private feelings. They were ones that all the girls were having. And ones our mothers must have had before, which was why they had brought us to the riding school. They were initiating us into these feelings as their mothers had before.

With these thoughts whirling around my head, I bent forward and began. Began at his waist with both hands on either side of his spine, working upwards in broad sweeping strokes. Maximum covering and firm pressure, warming his skin with my contact, awakening his nerve endings with the friction. Until I reached his shoulders, where I worked slowly across. Like my husband fucks me, with my fingers replacing his cock and Bill’s muscles in place of my cunt. Sometimes deep and hard and slow. Then gentle and soothing. Then faster and faster, harder and harder, deeper and deeper. Varying the pressure and the momentum as I worked methodically from neck to shoulder, shoulder to neck, and across the other side.

It's difficult to gauge his reaction. He is not very communicative.

'Are you enjoying this, Bill? Let me know if you're not or if there is something more you'd like me to do for you.'

While I had kneeled beside her, she actually straddled me, her legs astride my hips while her sex pressed warmly against my buttocks as she seated herself on top of me. It seemed perverted to think of this, yet all I could keep my mind on was the fact that her sex was pressing against me from behind.

When her hands started working my back, I finally understood why people loved massages. Her hands working my back muscles felt luxurious as she kneaded the muscles, working out the tightness.
As she did so I felt my excitement rising, as she straddled me, caressing me with her hands, her perfume torturing me. I wanted to try to focus on something else, yet her body pressing down on mine, her scent and her touch was driving me wild.

As I lay there, luxuriating to her touch, breathing on her scent I started to relax, feeling her hands on my body as I let myself start to drift as she used her hands on me. It was weird, yet I was finding myself tremendously attracted to her.

She's your moms age you idiot I thought, yet the feel of her straddling me so sexually was driving me wild. Laying still, I let my mind wander as the beauty straddling me worked her hands over my body. I felt shame at the thoughts I was having about this older woman, but everything she did, including the feel of the warmth emanating from her sex through her panties against me. I started to think of her body, the idea of her being naked, kissing her......and then immediately stopped. Stop thinking about that!!! I scolded myself as I tried to eliminate the raging erection that continued to torment me.

‘You won’t last a week.’ That was what my husband had told me when I said she was going to look after my friend’s son for a month.

‘What do you mean?’ I’d asked. ‘Give me some credit. I can surely keep him amused for a month. He’s probably spent all his time texting and playing computer games.’

My husband had laughed. ‘I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about sex. You won’t be able to last more than a week.’

‘That’s not fair,’ I snapped back. ‘I’m not a nymphomaniac. We don’t have sex when I’m on my period or when you’re away, which is quite a bit.’

‘And which I try to organise for the times when you’re on your period,’ he had corrected me. ‘Which is due to begin any time, isn’t it.’

We got distracted after that, but I thought about what he’d said and began to take note of what we did. Leaving out my period and his trips away, we had some sort of sex most days. Not necessarily full on fucking, but something, even if only some mutual stroking before work or when we woke in the night. But I would manage for a month, surely I could.

Well, I’d been her for just a few hours now and, well, things weren’t going so easily as I had thought. Sexual contact is just part of my make up. And sitting astride Bill was making me think of sitting astride my husband, taking the strain as I called it, going cowgirl as he called it. I closed my eyes and recalled the last time we had done this, two nights before I flew down here.

With my eyes shut, my body followed by thoughts. My hips began rocking side to side, the rhythm slowly building, only the grip of my knees on Bill’s hips keeping me from toppling off. Soon my crotch was circling slightly, rubbing against Bill’s buttocks. The material of my panties was damp and sticking to my pussy. The friction set my clit tingling. Then I rose, rose and fell, like I was riding a horse galloping across open country. Faster and faster. I recalled my husband’s face as it contorted as his pleasure grew and grew until he could contain himself no longer and …

The thought struck me like a bolt. Fuck. Or rather, no fuck. This wasn’t my husband, this was Bill. If my husband got excited by what I’d done to him, how was Bill feeling, what was I doing to him? I shot off him, my dress stuck around my thigh, my hair ruffled and my face flushed.

‘Well, Bill,’ I gasped, ‘that was fun, wasn’t it. But I’m sure you have things you’d rather be doing and I had better start cooking for us. Here,’ I held out his shirt, ‘get up and put this on so you’re not cold.’

Laying there feeling her atop me, I gave myself to the sensation and tried to focus on the relaxing sensation of Mrs. Thorpe rubbing my back. It was a very pleasant experience, feeling very relaxing. While I didn't have the aches and pains in my back that so many older people always seem to have, it still felt nice to have her doing this.
As much as it was nice having a beautiful mature woman doing this to me, I did try to remind myself that she was just being nice. At one point however her movements atop me started to excite me a bit as she started moving her hips around, and back and forth while rubbing my back. I tried to remind myself that she was not intentionally trying to excite me, but that she was simply throwing herself into the massage.

As she kept it up, she really seemed to start moving her hips faster, more urgently as she rubbed me. I couldn't help but enjoy the feel of her warm crotch pressing against me from behind as she gyrated her hips sensually against me. Despite all my best intentions, I couldn't help but lose the erection battle again as she did this. Blushing in shame, I tried to think of something else so it would go away, but then.............she seemed to step it up.

Her focussed shifted from rubbing my back to, grinding herself against me, as she rubbed herself urgently against my backside and only then the thought hit me. Is she doing this on purpose?. Her hips ground against me, her breathing seemed to pick up slightly and looking out the corner of my eyes I could see that hers were closed. Her movements were not accidentally turning me on, but rather they were intentionally sexual!

Oh my god! She was grinding herself against me, getting turned on by the sensation of grinding her crotch against my body. I on the other hand went wild with physical arousal as I could feel the dampness through her panties against me as she writhed and gyrated sensually. I immediately gave myself to the sensation. She and I are having a ....sexual moment?. I was certain her actions were sexual, and lost all control and started breathing heavily myself, my erection torturing me as we seemed to be making love here on the floor of my parents basement. I let my mind wander and imagined what this would be like if I was on my back and she was grinding into my crotch. This just about pushed me over the edge as I visualized her naked, her breasts swaying my hand touching her, even.....down there.

I was really getting into our little moment when she suddenly shot off if me as though she had been shocked. Did I misread her? I thought embarrassed. had her actions been innocent? Had she realized my reaction and been offended.

When she handed me my shirt and suggested I get up my first thought was how the hell I would hide the obvious bulge in my shorts. Grabbing the shirt, I sat up facing away from her and put it on, but made sure not to tuck it in so that maybe she might not see the obvious. Maybe I could get out of here without her knowing what I had been thinking.


"OK, I'll get some homework done" I said awkwardly as I struggled to my feet and walked towards the stairs thinking Eyes up...please don't look down.....PLEASE!!!!!. I hoped that with my baggy shirt untouched, if she wasn't looking directly at my waist she would not notice the bulge, but if she looked in that general direction it would be obvious. I quickly turned my back to her and headed towards the stairs Please don't ask me to turn around! I thought as I walked towards the stairs, thinking that it would only be a few more steps before I was out of sight and could deal with this ridiculous bulge. Just a few more steps and I'd be out of here, just so long as she didn't try to talk to me or get me to turn around.

I’d just got used to Bill saying one thing and doing the opposite, but now everything is in sync. His words, his body language, his expression, the speed of his departure. They all say the same thing: he’s desperate to get away. He did seem uncomfortable when I was massaging him, so perhaps I hurt him. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I mustn’t let him go like this. We were starting to get on so well after that tricky start, and now I’ve done something to upset him.

Perhaps he doesn’t understand my behaviour. But how can I tell him about my feelings. How much I miss my husband, how much I need sex, how I can’t imagine how randy I’ll be by the end of this month. It took so little to trigger them off. Just having him touch me were enough for me to realise that male contact meant so much to me. And sitting astride him, well the dampness at my crotch tells me all I need to know about that. But that’s something I’m going to have to cope with. He wouldn’t understand and there’s nothing he can do to help me.

And I know it's silly, but I don't want him to go. I haven't cum, but I feel post coital. I don't want him to leave yet. Like I need my husband in my arms afterwards. So I do what I always do. I act instinctively and physically.

‘No, Bill,’ I call out, ‘don’t be in such a hurry.’ I manage to catch him by his shoulder and pull him round. ‘That was a wonderful massage you did for me. I feel so much better. Maybe you can do it for me again.’ And I pull him towards me in a big hug.

As our bodies crush against each other, our eyes meet.

I was so close to getting away. So close! Pausing, I tried to think of a way out of this without exposing the shameful bulge in the front of my shorts yet before I could think of a solution she grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back to her. Oh my god please don't look down. Please!!!. If her eyes were to glance down, or even if she were to pay any attention to her peripheral vision, she would catch me.

Then she mentioned me massaging her again. Again? Oh my god I'd have a heart attack if I did that again I thought, yet at the same time nothing would make me happier than putting my hands on her body again. I was about to respond and say that I would be happy to when she grabbed me and pulled me in for a hug.

It was just a hug yet I can't describe the feeling after all that excitement of her sensuous womanly body pressed frontally against mine, her warmth seeping into me as her tender yet form body pressed against mine. This seemed to take the moment to the next level. Up till this point my reaction was merely physical, yet feeling her hold me brought in an emotional aspect to this. I was physically and emotionally attracted to Mrs. Thorpe. I wanted to maintain this hold on her, to never release the embrace yet at the same time I was desperate to try to keep my hips away lest she feel the bulge pressing against her thigh. It had already brushed her lightly once, but thankfully she didn't seem to notice.

When our eyes met during our embrace, my reaction intensified. I was momentarily lost in her beautiful eyes and noticed the softness of her lips as I wondered what it would be like to feel them against mine. She's your moms age!....And her best friend! I reminded myself yet it did no good. The feel of her body against mine, her perfume, her eyes and beautiful lips.....I was going wild with a youthful desire that I had never previously known. I mean I liked girls, yet for the first time in my young life I was bound by a nervous desire. My heart pounded against my chest, my breathing grew heavy, I trembled in nervous excitement. At the same time I felt shame at the way I was reacting. Is this wrong.

I trembled in her arms, trying desperately to keep my pelvis away from her while clinging to her affectionately, tormented by the conflicting feelings of shame and desire.

There he goes again, all out of sync. Half of him is clinging to me like he never wants to leave me while the other part, the lower part, is desperate to run away. We need to sort this out and right now is as good a time as any and better than most.

‘Bill,’ I say, leading him firmly back to the sofa and sitting him down, ‘there’s something wrong and I want to get to the bottom of it. If we going to get along for the rest of this month, then we need to have some ground rules so that we know where we are. I propose that we make each other a promise, that if there is anything troubling us we’ll talk to the other about it. We won’t be shy or embarrassed about it. We’ll behave like two adults and help us other out.’

As soon as I said this, I knew it would be difficult for me to implement it. The things that would be troubling me in the coming weeks were already making themselves felt in a spreading damp patch and I didn’t see that Bill would be able to give me much help. But maybe he would be able to be of some use, especially if I put it over subtly without being too explicit about it.

‘Right, Bill,’ I said firmly, ‘there’s something troubling you, I can tell, so just look me in the eyes and tell me what it is. There is nothing you need be embarrassed about. I won’t tell your parents or anyone else for that matter. Whatever you confide in me will stay just between the two of us.’

I push myself real close to him, put one arm round his shoulder and the other hand on his thigh. Just to reassure and comfort him and make it easier for him to confide in me.

It seems that the harder I try to hide my embarrassing reaction, the harder she makes it for me to do so. Case in point, her leading me back to the couch. Fortunately as she spoke she maintained eye contact and did not look down. Of course I was still holding my short in a way that covered myself, but hopefully in a way that did not make it obvious I was trying to cover myself.

As she talked, I will her to remain ignorant and not look down at my lap. Of course she had to go and put her arm around me pulling me in close which added to the strange feelings I was experiencing. To compound it, she placed her hand on my thigh, her fingers missing the bulge by about a centimetre or so.

Please DO NOT move your hand I prayed, knowing the slightest movement of her hand, or downward glance of her eyes would expose the shameful truth. Would she be furious? Would she call my parents, saying she couldn't stay here with me? What would they think.

Again, the feel of her arm around me, with her body pressed warmly against mine, her tantalizing scent and of course the erotic feel of her hand on my thighs, I was shamefully losing the battle.

To be clear, it's not that I didn't like girls, it's just that I was raised with values and certainly wasn't ready for the kinds of things my body seemed to be hungry for at this moment. Furthermore, despite how pretty she was, she was my mom's age.

Breathing deeply I spoke.

"Ok, uhm..,..it's just that, ....I'm a bit shy and...I don't know, I guess it was nice getting the back rub, and ....I ...I don't know, I guess I'm just shy" I said blushing as I casually moved my shaking hands in such a way as to have the short in my hands obscuring her view of the shamefully obvious bulge in my shorts. Now that I didn't have to worry about her seeing it, so long as she didn't move her hand I might just get out of this situation.

Shy. So that was it. Well, that was easily sorted.

‘You don’t need to be shy,’ I reassured him. ‘Shy is something you are with strangers, but we’re not strangers any more, we’re friends. Look at me, I’m quite a shy person really, but I’ve not been shy around you. You’ve seen me with my dress caught up and I had my bra off when you massaged my back for me. but I didn’t feel uncomfortable with that, because we know each other. You wouldn’t have been shy if your mother had rubbed your back or given you a hug, now, would you?’

It was difficult to read his expression. Was he convinced or was he going to feel like this around me for the rest of the month? I blundered on.

‘Look at it this way. We’re sharing the house aren’t we, just like you do with your parents? They see you around in your shorts, or maybe even naked, and I’m sure you must have caught glimpses of them when they weren’t fully clothed or had just got out of the shower. Not that I’m suggesting that you’ve been peeping,’ I added hastily, ‘nothing like that. It’s just the way it is when you share a house. Now I’m not going to feel uncomfortable if you happen to catch sight of me before when I’m dressing. We need to be comfortable around each other.’

This was hard work. I wonder how much I should say to get him to feel more comfortable. Probably best not to tell him about some of the things his mother and I did when we were at college. Not the sort of thing she’d want to get around with her new found respectability. Even I would prefer to keep quiet about some of what we got up to. My grip on Bill’s thigh tightened at the thought.

‘I’ll tell you a secret, Bill,’ I confided, moving closer to him and pulling his thigh closer towards mine, ‘when I’m at home, I often wander around in my underwear, imagine that. Anyone who peeked through the window would see my walking about in my bra and panties, the very ones I’m wearing today. When my husband comes home, he never knows if he’s going to find me like that and, do you know, neither of us has ever felt shy about it.’

And naturally that set me thinking about my husband and how he used to react to find me almost naked waiting for him and my hand moving slowly up his leg until I collided with the bottom of his balls. my instinct was to pull my hand away, but having lectured him about openness and not being shy or embarrassed, I could hardly do that. So I just let it stay where it was.

To my tremendous relief she bought it. I thought for just a moment that she would see right through that. Having dodged that bullet, I found my situation getting even more awkward, however I knew I would have to do a better job of hiding my responses

When she started talking about accidentally catching "glimpses" of each other naked, I found myself getting even more aroused. The thought of any of her flesh exposed, her buttocks, a thigh...anything, set my arousal on overdrive, and I felt my erection straining painfully against my shorts. Thank goodness for the strategically placed shirt I was holding in my hand, because if it wasn't there she would not be able to miss the tent pole pushing through my shorts.

Of course instead of making it easier for me to get rid of the raging strain I felt in my shorts, she then went on to describe how she would walk around her house wearing her panties, the ones she apparently was wearing right now I felt the urge start getting painful, as I started to perspire, and feel my heart rate accelerating and even felt some dampness inside my underwear.

I wondered how she could not see the effect this might have on me. At the same time I was struggling with shame, as I had been raised with fairly strict morals, yet here I was getting physically aroused by a much older woman who was sent to take care of me.

Of course her pulling her body even closer yet did not help the situation but then the unthinkable happened. Her hand slid up my thigh, then over the bottom of my workout shorts and kept going until she made contact with my balls. I had to restrain a gasp at this stage, trying to maintain control, but the feel of her hand against my balls felt so good that I felt my arousal yet again grow, if that could be possible.

Can too much excitement cause a heart attack? I wondered.
What amazed me is that she didn't yank her hand away. Surely she knows what she just came into contact with?.

She maintained eye contact, holding me tight yet did not move her hand, holding it in place. Is she ....groping me? I dismissed that thought yet still wondered if it was possible that this was intentional. The thought of being "touched" down there while physically exciting was still dirty and shameful, something I wouldn't be doing even with a girl my age, and most certainly not a woman her age. Is she doing something...wrong? Or is this just a mistake

Either way, I had to get rid of this erection, so I nodded and said "OK, you're right. I'll try to relax more", and with that I laid my head down on her shoulder hugging her back, while at the same time being extremely careful to avoid moving my hips lest I accidentally cause her hand to contact the erection just an inch or so away from her fingers.

Maybe if we just stayed here in a hug for awhile, and she did not move at all, it would go away.

I can’t tell you how much pleasure and comfort it gave me when Bill rested his head on my shoulder. It was a mark of his acceptance of me and even, perhaps, a budding affection as well. A bridge was crossed for me too as I savoured the fresh smell of his hair, felt his soft flesh press against my neck, and tingled as his warm breath trickled down my bosom. Through the material of his shorts, I felt the heat of his balls, the same way my husband’s feel when he is aroused.

I would have to find a way of distracting myself from these constant thoughts of home and husband and sex. Something to stop this ache in my crotch, and the dampness too. I was sure I could smell myself at times, but that was probably my imagination and Bill was too inexperienced to know what it was even if he did catch a whiff of it.

The solution to my problem was right there to hand, in my hands literally. Bill could be my diversion. If I concentrated on him and thought about him that would surely take my mind off my husband and what I was missing. Concentrating on what was there before me, looking after Bill and attending to his needs, that would provide a diversion from other thoughts.

My hand left Bill’s shoulder and reached up to his hair, where I ran my fingers through the silky strands and pulled him closer into the nape of my neck. The neck that my husband nibbled, that set me purring and whispering to him of my need to him and what I needed him to do to me. His lips were pressing against my flesh and I turned slightly to plant a soft kiss on his head.

And my other hand? The forefinger of my other hand was slowly stroking the bottom of his balls.

So much for distracting myself. I shifted my weight and crossed by legs, tightly, aware of the dampness that was gathering there.

I should have stopped. My brain knew it, but my body was in control. My natural responses and needed had taken over. For a moment, just until I regained my senses and remembered where I was and who I was with, I wanted him to reach out to touch me.

My mind was working overtime at the strange sensations and emotions running through me. I genuinely enjoyed the feel of closeness with Mrs. Thorpe. It was pleasurable to be in her arms, and to feel her warmth squeezing me, but at the same time I was confused about what else was going on. I had never felt "aroused" in the presence of a woman or girl, and I had been raised with strong values yet for all my efforts I could not get my mind off the feel of her against me, her hands on me and the smell of her perfume and ........something else. There was another scent I couldn't place, something musky yet intoxicating.

Why am I feeling this way

As these strange and confusing feelings battled each other within me I also noticed she was acting a bit off. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but she seemed to be moving like she was maybe uncomfortable or something. Like someone who has an itch they can't quite reach.
As she pulled me in, I got a glimpse down at her bosom from an angle I was pretty sure she would not want me to see. Granted she was wearing a bra so they were mostly covered, but I was seeing more of a woman than I ever had in my life.

I was still uncomfortably aware of the warm feel of her hand touching my balls through the material of my shorts. Doesn't she know what's she's touching?. The way she pulled me in closer yet, resulted in my mouth being pressed against her neck and while I couldn't understand it, this feeling of my lips against her skin felt wonderful, giving me a tingly feeling throughout that felt nice as she ran her fingers through my hair.

I felt her lips press against the top of my head, delivering a kiss, as she pulled my lips into her own neck and then.........................I almost gasped in shock, my breath stopping momentarily......her fingers started to stroke my balls ever so lightly. Is she .....molesting me?. I denied the thought, yet how could she not know what she was doing? Maybe she was just an overly affectionate person, yet.......I wasn't so sure now.

Upon crossing her legs, the sound of her legs brushing against each other, set off alarm bells of excitement as her lips remained against my head. This combined with the competing scents of her perfume and that other scent, her fingers lightly grazing me, my view of her cleavage and the feel of my mouth against her neck had me almost paralyzed with sensory overload.

My heart was trying to tear through my chest it was pounding so hard, my mouth hung open in a soundless gasp, I trembled, blushed, and started to sweat profusely as this woman held me in her arms, touching me with her hands, her mouth and her scent.

I reached out and put my arms around her, forgetting about the short that was strategically covering my shameful bulge, letting it drop as I squeezed her back.

Am I supposed to kiss her back? I wondered nervously. On one hand, she had kissed me, and if it was merely an affectionate gesture she might find it rude that I do not return the gesture. We were just starting to get along. Of course, she might find it inappropriate. I was struggling with this dilemma as my body completely lost the battle, while my erection strained agonizingly against the very wet spot on my shorts.

I guess a small kiss might seem polite I thought

Squeezing her back, breathing in her scent I gently placed a small kiss on her neck as she had my face pressed against it anyway, trembling nervously, hoping that was OK.

It’s so obvious. How could I not have spotted it sooner? I’ve been thinking of Bill as naïve and innocent, whereas in fact he’s nothing of the sort. He’s far more experienced than I’ve given him credit for. All the time I’ve been worried about his contradictory behaviour, he’s actually been drawing me in, building up interest. All the time he’s appeared worried or nervous, he’s actually been manoeuvring us closer together physically. And all the time I have been feeling so comfortable and safe around him, he’s taken every chance to get his hands all over me and to sneak looks up my skirt and down my dress.

And now, now he’s got his arms round me, while he kisses my neck and he’s thrown away that shirt he was holding to show me … well, there’s no missing it. Even with his head in my neck, there’s no doubt about that damp patch or about the cause.

How do I feel about this? Well, I’ve been taken for a sucker, that’s for sure and that’s not a good feeling for someone of my age who is generally considered to know her way around men. That aside, flattered of course, that he would be attracted to me at my age, and that patch leaves no doubt that he is attracted. This isn’t some game that he’s playing. And, well, there’s no denying that I’ve got a patch to match his. Which just shows how successful he’s mean in controlling me. I need to be careful. I’m in a vulnerable position here, alone in a strange town in someone else’s house and supposedly in charge. It would only take a push from him and I’d be on my back on this sofa with him on top of me and planning, well, I don’t need a diagram. Who’s going to believe that Bill has managed to take advantage of someone my age?

But what am I to do? At his age, rejection is going to come hard, especially as we have to spend a month together. So I do what I always do when I don’t know what to do, just carry on with whatever I’m doing anyway. I take my hand out of his hair and stroke his back. That’s a good idea, make like I am comforting him and not responding to his advances. His skin is so soft and smooth, my fingers glide down quickly to the waistband of his shorts, before I know it my nail is actually in the top of his crack. The other hand, well in all the turmoil of realising what Bill’s up to, I’ve forgot all about that.

It was hard to tell by her reaction if what I did was OK, but she did seem to pause for a second as though in deep thought. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe she misunderstood the gesture. For whatever reason I did sense a shift in her reactions, but I couldn't quite place it until a thought hit me.
Oh my god! I dropped the shirt on the floor!!! The sudden realization that there was nothing between her eyes and the obvious shameful bulge in my pants was air. NO! Shit no!!! How stupid can I be? I sat there, my face buried in her neck praying that she did not look down. My mind worked overtime trying to figure out how the hell I was going to get out of this one. I pondered how I would get up and out of the room once she broke the embrace without her seeing the obvious.

As we sat there, still holding each other, her hand continued to stroke my hair as the other one continued lightly brushing against my balls. I still trembled with nervous excitement at the myriad of sensations going through me and wondered if I would ever be able to make that shameful erection go away.

As I pondered this, the hand on my head started rubbing my back gently. While it feels incredibly nice, it helps maintain my current state of arousal, which seems ridiculous because it is only a back rub, yet still I'm finding it exciting.

Gradually her hand starts moving lower, further down my back until it is at the waistline of my shorts. I find this exciting yet in an uncomfortable way. It does not take long for her moving hand to start causing one of her fingers to glide under the waistband a bit. I tense a bit nervously at this. Is this normal? I wonder nervously as her fingers glide under and toward my butt until the nail of her finger is actually at my butt crack.

What is she doing? I wonder nervously as her other hand continues lightly brushing against my balls. Is she doing this intentionally?. I mean fantasy is one thing, but she's old enough to be my mother. Surely she shouldn't be doing this. I feel very confused and vulnerable, wanting to say something, feeling we should stop. I try to convince myself that this is innocent and that I'm just misinterpreting her gesture, yet a nervous feeling inside is starting to grow. Despite this, my body is still physically aroused to the point of torture.

He’s flaunting himself at me. I can hardly believe that he is being so brazen after pretending to be nervous. He actually told me that he was shy and look at him now. He’s thrown his shirt on the floor and is showing off a bulge that my husband would be proud to display, and a damp patch to show how aroused he’s got just by touching me. If this is how he is just by giving me a massage and having me rub his back, what sort of state would he get into if … Well, you know what I mean. It’s best not to think about it really, but if I responded to him the way I respond to my husband, well, he’d blow off like one of those geysers.

And now he’s nuzzling my neck. Not smothering me in kisses like someone inexperienced would do. He understands how gentle can be more effective than overpowering. Not that I object to being overpowered; in the right circumstances, it can be very enjoyable. But gentle and subtle can be extremely arousing. Just the light touch as he massaged me and the soft pressure of his lips on my neck when he kissed me. He’s got the knack, and that only comes with experience. His mother didn’t mention any girlfriends, but maybe she took it for granted that I’d know someone of his age would be sexually active. She certainly was.

The problem is, my problem that is, well, his technique is working on me, every slight movement on my neck makes me catch my breath. And as my chest rises that reminds me of his arm around me, holding me, holding me down, keeping me here when my brain is telling me to move. I’m trying to maintain control, I really am. If I were with my husband now, I’d have those shorts off and his cock down my throat. But I’m not with my husband and won’t be for a month. My control is at breaking point. My hands seem to have a mind of their own. One is cradling his buttocks now, his small tight buttocks. And the other, the other is cradling his balls.

I should push him off, or prise myself out from underneath him, free myself from being in such close proximity and escape. But he’s not making it easy for me. it’s like he’s reading my mind and acting to block my best instincts. I daren’t speak or he’s be able to tell how I am responding to him from the catch in my voice.

Something seemed very seriously wrong here, as her hands seemed to take over. I felt trapped as she held on to me. One hand was now groping my butt, and the other one was no longer merely flicking my testicles with a finger but now was actually groping them. This was no mistake. She was touching me sexually.

Why? I wondered in torment. I'm way too young for her, and in no way ready for anything like this. Trembling nervously, I bounced between fear and shame. Obviously I was nervous about where this was going to go because I was certainly not ready for anything like this. Sure I liked girls, and had even thought about what sex would feel like, but that was just fantasy. At this stage in my life I was nowhere near ready for sex, and certainly not with someone her age, regardless of how attractive she was.

Alternately I felt shame. First for my body's reaction. How could I be reacting like this? Why did I have this shameful erection?

Secondly, did I make this happen? Did I do something to make her think I wanted this? I struggled with these thoughts, feeling nervous, excited, ashamed and vulnerable. She seemed like a nice lady and I didn't want to offend her but this felt wrong. I pondered whether or not I should speak up.

This isn’t right. It’s got to stop. But I really don’t know how to do it. Bill has managed to home in on my weakness. Just like my husband, he’s understood instinctively how much I need sex. But this has come on so quickly. I only arrived earlier today but looking back Bill has been working on me ever since I got here. Slowly, subtly but inexorably, he’s drawn me in, almost made me feel like I am the one leading him, whereas in truth I’m the one who’s being led. Led into a trap that I can’t get out of.

My husband has never tormented me this badly. For a while, yes, building up the tension, and for longer than this. But not with such intensity or from doing so little. Bill is so still. All he needs to do is to move slightly. A slight trickle of breath over my breasts. His hand brushing over my thigh. His lips touching mine. I’d lose control and he’d have won. And where would that leave me for the next month? Putty in his hands. He’d torment me mercilessly.

And then there’s this age thing. I’ve never worried about it before, never even thought about it. If I’m attracted to someone, who cares about how old they are or how young. But this isn’t about attraction. I’m not attracted to Bill sexually at all. It’s just that he has the power to arouse me.

I could beg him to stop, but would he do it? He might take that as a sign to carry on and make things worse for me. And how humiliating would it be to admit that he had got the better of me. With all my experience, it would be like an amateur overpowering a seasoned professional. But I need to do something and quickly. He’s manoeuvred me so that I’m massaging both his butt and his balls, and he hasn’t cum. Now that’s control for you. My husband wouldn’t be able to hold on like he’s doing.

Perhaps that’s what I should do. Make him cum. That could be a good tactic. That would bring this to a halt at least for a while. Yes, that’s a good idea. Take him on, show him the sexual power that I can bring to bear if I put my mind to it. Show him that I’m not such a push over as he thinks I am.

So I release his butt and withdraw my hand, using it to lift his head clear of my neck. I wonder if he has ever kissed a woman. Probably not; he’ll have been with girls his own age or a bit older. I lower my face to his and soft press my lips against his, holding it before letting the tip of my tongue slip out and push its way into his mouth. While my other hand, it moves up to his cock. I won’t do anything, just hold it. Let him know that I’ve seen it and understood what he’s up to. Let have a taste of his own medicine to show him I can be subtle too. See how long he can resist this.

And me, what about me? How am I feeling? Oh shit, don’t think about that. Just concentrate on getting out of this situation and then worry about that.

As I tremble in fear and excitement, she continues teasing me as I submit meekly. My mind is saying no, while my body is saying yes, while I cringe in shame at my body's reaction. I want desperately to tell her to stop, but don't know how. Will she be angry with me? Will she reject me if I say I'm not ready to be touched like this?. I agonize over my dilemma, wanting her to stop, afraid to say it as my body starves for more of her touch.

This has to stop! I have to say something!

As I think this, she releases my ass and brings my face up, and looks at me, her mouth torturously close to mine. I knew she was going to kiss me, and while there was excitement, I felt like prey cornered by a predator, too frightened to move. Can't we go back to maybe just hugging?. When her lips touched mine, my body flinched in fear and yet a tingling sensation of excitement went through my body, and then....................GASP!!!! .......her hand grabbed my erection. My reaction was obvious and audible, even with her mouth on mine as my wide open eyes stared at her while her tongue probed my mouth.

A part of me wanted to just lay here and delight in this wonderful sensation, yet......this was wrong. I wasn't ready for anything like this. I had been raised with strict morals, and new the pitfalls of lust and pre marital sexual conduct. I knew if I did not stop, the shame would torture me, and I would not know how to deal with having committed such sin.

I started gasping audibly, even with her mouth on mine as I felt an orgasm approaching. I needed to stop this now! I really liked her and I wanted her to like me but I couldn't do this.

Breaking the kiss, I looked at her nervously, apologetically and fumbled for the words;

"Mrs Thorpe,....I don't think we .....I mean is it OK, for us to be doing this?" Please don't be angry I thought, Please, please.....don't be angry. Please don't stop liking me and being nice. "I just....I'm sorry but, I'm not sure....I mean I really like you .....a lot but....I don't know if I'm ready for anything like this." I said, trembling nervously.

Looking at her, I mentally pleaded with her to understand, wanting her to like me, terrified that she would reject me for wanting to slow down.

"I'm sorry....I like you, and want you to like me but.....I'm ....nervous" I said sincerely, looking at her, wanting her to understand.

Bill is good, you’ve got to admit it. Nervous? I almost burst out laughing when I heard that. It took all my self control to stop myself. He’s the most accomplished seducer I’ve come across, and I’ve met a few in my time. within a matter of hours, he’s had me almost naked on his sofa, got my bra off, been massaging my neck, peeking at my panties, kissing and nuzzling my neck, and holding me. And he’s managed to get me into such a state that I am only just managing to stop myself lying back on the sofa and begging him to finish me off before I scream.

But at least we’re talking. That’s good. Even if he is coming on with that ‘is it too soon?’ crap. Whenever a guy tries that one you know he can’t wait to get your panties down and his leg over. Next thing you know, he’ll be talking about respect and trying to convince me that this isn’t what it really is, which is naked lust.

Still, we’re talking. And that is good. I don’t mind talking in bed, although the vocabulary usually gets very basic. And I was trying to find a way to get a discussion going, but couldn’t find a way without hurting his feelings. Now, though, I know that what he says and what he does don’t match and that I need to pay more attention to how he is behaving and reacting. He’s pulled back from the kiss, but his arm is still round me, his face is close up to mine and his hard on is throbbing in my hand like a space rocket just before take off. Teasing, that’s what he’s doing. Getting me worked up and then pulling back just at the last minute. Well, let him have a taste of his own medicine. See how he likes to be taken to the brink.

‘Bill,’ I say softly, forcing my breath so that it will just tickle his lips, ‘it’s natural to feel like this when you are with someone for the first time.’ My grip tightens on his cock and begins to move slow up and down. ‘Sometimes our feelings run ahead of us and we don’t understand where we are going until we arrive.’ I drape my free arm over his shoulders to stop him pulling back from me. ‘We wonder if the other person is feeling as we do.’ My hand moves faster on his cock. ‘Well, Bill, you must know what effect you’ve been having on me.’ My lips are close to his now, they are almost brushing each other. ‘We’re torn between wanting to plunge ahead regardless and to pull back and withdraw.’ My hand is pulling at his cock now, pulling and twisting, my thumb is working back and forth across his head, across the sodden material of his shorts. ‘Sometimes, we get to the point where our body isn’t allow us any choice. It takes control.’ My lips make contact as I speak, my arm around his neck pulls him into a deep kiss. My hand, like I just said, now has a mind of its own.