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Forbidden: phtlc & lowblow emma

P

phtlc

Super-Earth
Joined
Jun 11, 2009
Location
Under your bed, in your cloest, in your head
Forbidden

Listening to my parents fight, even now as they prepared for the trip that would apparently save their marriage, I cringed hearing them bicker. They had been like this for a couple of years now. I don't know the specifics, but to be perfectly honest it would be a relief if they did split. I would live with one, visit the other and never have to be around this constant hostility again. They both seemed to have careers that kept them out late, and frequently I found myself having to eat late when mom or dad finally came home.

They both had stellar careers, were well known in the community with rather prestigious volunteer roles. Mom was involved in local politics and dad had a law practice. they were also active with the church, as both of them had a strong catholic background. I never understood why it was so important to them that I volunteer at the church. It was boring. Still, they wanted me to be involved.

Anyway, they get to go away on a trip and I get stuck here for a month with some friend of my mom's from back in her college days. I wasn't particularly keen on having to live with a stranger for a month, but such was life. Undoubtedly my parents would be off enjoying the Caribbean, snorkelling, diving, drinking margaritas while I got stuck with some strange lady I've never met. Well, apparently I met her when I was just an infant, but I don't remember. Anyway this month would suck.

Hearing the doorbell ring, I heard my mother say "She's here", as she went to the door.

"Hey!" I heard her exclaim. The two of them exchanged pleasantries, laughed, talked loudly. Sitting on my computer, I went online to play a video game and get my mind off things while my mom and her college friend chatted in the living room, having a drink. They reminisced the old times.

"Hey Bill?...Bill? Can you come down please?"

Sighing, I went downstairs and headed into the living room to meet her friend who would be staying with me for the next month.
Walking into the living room, I saw a lady who looked about my mom's age , but quite pretty. She smiled warmly at me right away, and stood up to introduce herself.
 
There are friends and friends. Some you see every day at work or they pop in for a coffee or chat in the evening or at weekends. They know every detail of your life. Others you hardly ever see, but for some reason it is these friends that are closest. That’s how it is with Emily. We met at college and we’ve been friends ever since. I’m not sure why we hit it off. I used to think that she admired my stability and reliability and depended on my sensible advice. I’m sure that’s right, but looking back I guess I was also a friend who wasn’t a rival. She was stunningly attractive, clever, witty, and needless to say popular with everyone. Hence her marriage, career, community roles. Me, I was pretty enough not to repel her cast offs and bright enough to get the grades, but I ended up married to an accountant, with a boring administrative job and no interest in church or community.

After college we kept in touch, cards for birthdays and Christmas, cards from holidays (hers exotic, mine less so) and occasional meetings when we picked up just as we had been on that first day at college. So it wasn’t a surprise to get a text out of the blue, but what it said was. She was having marriage problems and wanted to get away so that she and her husband could rejuvenate their relationship. The only problem was that the presence of Bill, her son, wouldn’t be conducive to the sort of rejuvenation she had in mind. So would I have him, just for a month, he’d be no trouble, such a quiet boy?

What could I say? Well, for a start I know nothing about children and never had any interest in them. Mike, he’s my husband, and I don’t have any. After five years of trying, the doctors told us we couldn’t. My husband accepted this as fate; I accepted it with relief. I didn’t even have a brother. But, Emily reassured me, he’d as good as look after himself. Just make sure he was fed and kept safe, and he’d do the rest.

And so it was that I found myself standing in Emily’s house, looking at Bill and trying to appear confident and authoritative. And that was when something stirred in me. No, not a maternal instinct, not some mothering, nurturing feelings. No, curiosity. What were boys like? What did they think? What, for example, was in his mind now? I could have had a good idea if he had been a girl, but with no experience of boys I didn’t know what he was thinking. This month I realised would give me a chance to learn.
 
"Bill, this is Emma Thorpe, and she'll be looking after you for the month." My mom said.

As she stuck out her hand to shake mine, I tentatively stuck out mine, feeling a bit shy in her presence.

"Hi Bill, I'm pleased to meet you" she said pleasantly enough

"Pleased to meet you too Mrs. Thorpe "

She seemed like a very friendly lady, so I was sure she would be nice yet she looked at me funny and I couldn't quite figure out what she was thinking.

"OK Bill, I told her you would be on your best behaviour, be home on time and do your chores on schedule without problems and I want you to be on your best behaviour" mom said next.

Nodding my head I agreed and asked if I could be excused. Heading back upstairs I went back to my computer, not sure what to make of the new guest who was watching me. She seemed polite, enough I guess. She did seem to be looking at me rather inquisitively. had I done something wrong? I couldn't tell and put the thought out of my head.

After awhile my parents called me down, as they prepared to leave. Sighing I trudged downstairs and saw my parents at the door, with the cab waiting outside. I wished I was going with them, as they would be seeing sunny beaches and snorkelling and such while I was stuck here in the winter going to school every day.

"OK Bill, I want you to be on your best behaviour with Emma, OK. Don't give her a hard time." She said, not that I had ever been a troublemaker, but I guess she felt the need to say that just in case.

"OK Mom", I said before she kissed me on the cheek, and I said my good buys to my parents and saw them drive off. When Mrs. Thorpe closed the door, we looked at each other for a second, and feeling a bit shy I cleared my throat and spoke.

"OK, I'm going to...uhm go upstairs and play on my computer Mrs. Thorpe"
 
I whispered my good wishes and some advice into Emily’s ear and turned towards Bill, only to find him heading up the stairs and back to his computer.

‘Hold on,’ I called, ‘don’t go yet.’

Even if Bill was going to spend the entire month playing on his computer and only emerging for meals, I still needed to establish some sort of rapport with him. But how to do that. Why hadn’t I planned for this moment? There must be loads of advice on Google.

Then I had a thought. What do boys of his age want? Computer games, obviously. Girls, well yes, obvious too. But they also want to be treated like an adult. That’s what I wanted at his age, so did my friends and boys couldn’t be that different.

‘Bill, you’re going to be the man of the house now your father’s gone and I don’t know my way around or where anything is. Will you show be the house please? Perhaps I can see your bedroom if you don’t mind and you can show me this computer game you are so eager to get back to.’
 
For a second I almost winced when she called me back, wondering if she was calling me back to "lay down the law" yet this was not the case. It was more of a "let's get acquainted" type of chat. Fortunately she seemed nice enough

I wasn't sure if she was just making fun of me by referring to me as the "man of the house" but she said it in a friendly way so if she was teasing she probably did not mean any harm.

"Sure, OK. Uhm, my room is up this way", I said, heading up the stairs. Making my way up to my room with Mrs. Thorpe following, hoping my room looked OK. It wasn't too messy, but I also wasn't a huge neat freak. Showing her in, I took a quick look around making sure all was OK. My laptop was on my desk, and I had a few little league trophies on my shelf. there were a few items that should have been picked up, but overall it was fairly neat.

"OK, so it's a baseball game" I said referring to the video game. "I play it at school and in a league, so I decided to also play a video version. I play a few other games too" referring to the pile of video games I had. These included several sports games, a flight simulator, a alien invasion game and a few others.

"OK, so that's my room" I said, "I'll show you the rest" as I headed for the door
 
Baseball, now there was something I could bluff my way through.

‘WOW, Bill, I’m impressed. Your mother and I knew some baseball players in college. You need a lot of stamina and flexibility to play that game.’

My mind filled with images of stamina and flexibility, on and off the pitch, including a memorable visit to the dressing room after one match. This boy seemed such a complete contrast to those fit athletes. I couldn’t imagine him cavorting as they had. Try as I might; and why was I trying? To cover myself and regain my composure I pretended to study the trophies.

‘And you’ve won trophies too. You must be good.’

I settled myself down on Bill’s chair. ‘I’d love to come and watch you play.’

I crossed my legs and waited to see how he would react to my suggestion. The chair was low and my dress rode up my thighs, exposing more flesh than I had expected or intended.

‘So long as you don’t mind, of course.’
 
Rather than follow me, she commented on my interest in baseball and started looking at my trophies. I was flattered by her compliments of course, but felt compelled to put it in perspective. Sure I kept myself fit, and I was certainly a good player, we had also lost our fair share of games this year. Granted if the coach hadn't insisted on fielding his son who could barely play as a shortstop we might be a bit further ahead.

"Thank you, but they're not all first place. Those two were" I said pointing to the two trophies we got for winning the little league division, "but many of them are second and third place trophies".

She seemed to be deep in thought about something so I gave her a moment to go through whatever it was she had been thinking. She seemed to be evaluating both me and the trophies while lost in some deep thought.

When she sat down in my chair, I took that as a cue she wanted to talk so I sat on my bed directly across from her. When she crossed her legs, I accidentally got a glimpse of her inner thigh and a flash of panties. I hadn't meant to look, I just accidentally got a view and immediately turned my eyes away, blushing, hoping she didn't notice.

"Uhm, sure.....I mean if you want to come, you're welcome to" I said, trying to deal with the fact that I knew my face was crimson red, as I could feel the burning in my cheeks.

Why do I always blush like this? I thought, awkward about the fact that it was a dead giveaway.

"My, ..uhm...my next game is....it's Tuesday", damn, now I was starting to mumble my words nervously.
 
Are all boys this difficult? Bill says one thing but seems to mean the opposite. Yes, it would be nice for you to come and see me play. Or so he says, but then he’s blushing and mumbling. It doesn’t sound like he is that keen to me.

I lean forward to try to make eye contact as he is looking down. If I’d known I’d be sitting on this chair, I’d wouldn’t have worn such a low neckline. Modesty would dictate that I put my hand over my chest, but he’s not even looking at me.

‘Bill,’ I say, reaching out and touching his knee to get his attention, ‘I won’t come if you don’t want me to. I’m not trying to replace your mother or anything like that. I just thought it would be nice for us to share something while we’re together. But if it would embarrass me to have you there, just say and I’ll understand.’
 
I felt her hand touch my knee which for some reason gave me a bit of a jolt, I'm not fully sure what caused that, yet when she spoke it was clear she misunderstood my reaction. She thinks I don't want her there? That she'd embarrass me?. I felt terrible that she interpreted my response that way. I was just embarrassed about the accidental up-skirt view.

"No, it's not that" I said, turning back to look at her, and realizing she we leaning forward, as I got a glimpse of cleavage again setting off a bit of awkwardness. My eyes instinctively went there for a briefest of moment before I caught myself and looked up at her eyes.

"I'd love to have you come to the game, I just was feeling a bit shy, that's all"

Oh my god, did I just check out my mom's friend? I thought, cringing at how wrong that was. As I tried to talk, I tried not to focus on the fact that her hand was on my knee and it felt......I don't know, ....but it was a kind of strange feeling.

She seemed like such a nice lady, and she was trying very hard to be nice so I didn't want to offend her.....and I certainly hope she didn't notice that briefest fraction of a second that my eyes went to her chest. I'm not even like that, having been raised catholic, with strong views on moral values, I would never check a lady out. It was just a momentary lapse.

"Yeah, Tuesday at 4 PM, at Ridgeway park." I said, trying to relieve the awkwardness. "Do you still watch baseball regularly?"
 
What a relief. I‘ve not embarrassed him. Thank goodness for that. It was the last thing I wanted, getting off to a bad start like that and having to try to placate him later.

‘I’m so pleased you want me to come with you. I’ll look forward to that,’ I say, still touching his knee. Physical contact is so important when establishing a relationship, I find. ‘I’m afraid I don’t really follow baseball much nowadays. Your mother and I were more interested in the players than the game.’ I laugh and try to gauge his reaction. Maybe he has never thought of his mother chasing, or being chased by, anyone other than his father. ‘My husband prefers football,’ I say moving swiftly on in case I’ve caused embarrassment, ‘although we do watch the big games sometimes.’

I release his knee and half rise so that I can swivel round and sit beside him on the bed, conscious once again of my low neckline. There’s not much on the bed, so my hip and thighs are pressed against his. A thought jumps into my head. Another way of establishing a contact and relationship with this boy.

‘Bill, I do hope we’re going to get along. I understand that you are missing your parents. It’s the same for me in a way, because I’ll be missing my husband. He’s stayed at home and I won’t see him for the whole month.’ The reality of what that means begins to sink in and I sit thoughtfully feeling the warmth of Bill’s thigh seeping through my skirt.
 
I was grateful that she did not seem to notice my embarrassing little slip up, and that she accepted my explanation. I didn't want to get off to a bad start with her, given how long we would be staying together.

It was weird hearing her talk about her interest in guys, I guess I've never heard older people talk about that sort of thing with me. While she was pretty, she was in fact a mature woman, and I guess I hadn't pictured her chasing guys. Somehow that oddly made her seem more fun and less like an adult authority figure

As she talked she kept her hand on my knee, which again felt strange, not bad at all, just odd. I seemed very conscious of this. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but there was a feeling that seemed out of place given she was watching me.

When she sat on the bed next to me, she positioned herself intimately close, her thigh pressing against mine and for some reason this gave me both a sense of nervous comfort. She was warm, and for some reason the physical contact made my heart rate pick up a bit. As she talked, the heat radiated from her thigh against mine and I felt a relaxed sense of comfort. This was nice, she was a nice lady and while it seemed odd that she was so close, I got the sense from her conversation that she was just trying to cope with the loneliness she would feel over the next month.

"I'd like to get along too Mrs. Thorpe" I said sincerely, since she was going out of her way to be so nice. Looking over at her I smiled, feeling a bit shy.

"I do miss my parents, and I'm sorry you won't be seeing your husband......but, thank you for being willing to stay with me" I said feeling a bit shy, feeling the warmth of her against me, when I noticed that there was something really nice about her perfume.

I made eye contact and smiled, hoping I wouldn't blush this time.
 
It was a spontaneous gesture. I was so relieved that I hadn’t upset Bill and that we were going to get along. I just put my arm round him and gave him a big hug, pulling him close into me. That’s the sort of woman I am. Tactile and spontaneous.

‘That’s great, Bill,’ I said.

Then a thought struck me. ‘I wonder what I should wear. I didn’t know when I packed that I’d be going to support you at a baseball game. I’ve mostly brought clothes like these. I can’t borrow your mother’s. we used to share clothes but that was years ago and I’ve put on weight since then, unlike her,’ I add regretfully. ‘Perhaps we can look through my clothes and advice me on what would be most suitable, most like what the other mothers will be wearing. I could try them on and you could what would be best.’

I stood up and pulled down my skirt.

‘Right, now we’ve got that sorted, what about showing me the rest of the house.’
 
It was a total surprise to me when she reached out and hugged me, that for a second I almost pulled back, yet didn't. Once in her arms, I felt a comforting sensation, and hugged back, again really mesmerized by the smell of her perfume. It really smells nice I thought. We held the hug for a moment or so, and strangely I was almost a bit disappointed when it ended, but was feeling more relaxed around her. She seemed so nice, I couldn't quite put my finger on why I felt so shy around her.

Hearing her discuss what to wear, I found it odd that she would refer to having put on weight. Sure she didn't have the same body type as my mom, but then my mom was just a very skinny person. Mrs Thorpe on the other hand was very curvy, but certainly not heavy. She was very good looking..
"You don't look like you've put on weight, it's you look very...." my voice trailed off awkwardly for a second as I thought OK that could be an awkward comment given that shes older and my moms freind, I thought knowing I was starting to blush again. why does she have this effect on me.

"I mean, I think you just need to dress comfortably and you'll be fine....uhm, OK maybe I'll show you the rest of the house now" I said smiling at her as I headed out of the room, yet cringing inwardly at how awkward my comment must have sounded
 
Bill and I are definitely establishing a rapport. He’s still rather awkward, mumbling incoherently at times, but that may just be his way, so I’m going to be patient until we settle down together. But his reaction to me hugging him was spontaneous and genuine; I’m sure he enjoyed holding me. It felt like he didn’t want to let go. I was enjoying getting acquainted, but he seems eager to show me the rest of the house now, so I’ll tag along for the ride. I can’t complain, after all it was my idea, but only as a way of stopping him hiding in his room playing on his computer.

My dress is all in a mess as I stand up, showing off more bosom and leg than I should do. It happens a lot with my clothes, but it’s easily fixed. A wiggle and a few quick tugs and it’s all straight and modest again, well modest by my standards anyway. Come to think of it, I wonder if that’s what Bill meant by dressing warmly. Was he hinting politely that I might be a bit, well, over exposed? I don’t want to embarrass him, but I haven’t brought a great choice of clothes.

It’s odd how unsettled I’m feeling. Maybe it was the realisation that I wouldn’t be seeing my husband for a month. That sudden hug Bill gave me really brought it home to me. A month’s a long time to wait for strong male arms to hold and control me. I’ve not gone that long since, well, come to think of it, since before I went to college. I’ve promised to phone my husband each evening, and knowing how those calls usually go things could get a bit steamy. Which isn’t the same as being satisfactory, not from my point of view at any rate. I need a live cock to get me going. But it’s best not to think about that. I’ll put it out of my mind, or at least try to.

I’ve stood here in a daydream and forgotten all about Bill. He’ll wonder what’s happened to me.
 
I wish I knew what she was thinking. We interacted quite nicely for the most part yet at times her mind seemed to drift off, as though she was somewhere else. When she hugged me it seemed so sincere, I found myself feeling a closeness to her that was comforting, yet she got that look on her face like maybe I did something wrong.

I did worry when she straightened her dress. Did she notice when I got the accidental upskirt view?. I certainly hopes she didn't or at the very least I hope she realized it was an honest accident. Would she think I did it on purpose? Would she think I was being a perve?....Would she say something to my parents???!!. I found myself hoping that would just blow over without consequence, yet worried it might taint our ability to get along. That would be a shame as she was a nice lady.

Showing her the rest of the house, I took her to see my parents den, the kitchen and dining room, the guest room (which was easily as nice as my parents room, with its own ensuite bathroom), the living room and of course the basement. The basement was finished with a large screen TV and a massive plush couch.

Upon completion of the tour, I looked at her and realized that there was not much more to show her. I did however feel it would be rude to just go to my room again though.

"Want to watch some TV? Play some darts or a board game?"
 
The sight of the sofa made me realise just how tired I was, what with the flight, and all that tedious walking and standing about at the airports, and the stress of getting to know this strange boy. All I wanted to do was to put my feet up and rest.

I sank onto the sofa with a huge sigh, kicked off my shoes and stretched my legs out. Was this how Bill’s parents would behave in their immaculate home? Or would they sit upright with correct deportment and not let their feet anywhere near the perfectly plumped up cushions? Who cared. I certainly didn’t. I was living here for a month and I’d behave as I pleased.

‘Bill,’ I said, ‘what I’d like most is just to relax and watch some television with you. you choose what you want to see and come sit down here.’ I patted the cushion next to me. ‘I can put my feet on your lap and you can massage them for me. what do you say?’

My skirt had ridden up again, of course, and Bill was now standing looking down on me with, I realised, a perfect view down my top. It was strange. I was sure that he was watching me, checking me out, but he also seemed to be embarrassed about it. I’d have to find something less revealing for the rest of my stay.
 
When she sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her, I thought that odd as the couch was huge, one of those L shaped ones that goes in a corner, yet I didn't argue, I just sat near her, listening as she continued to speak.

Rub her feet? Seriously I had never rubbed anyone's feet in my life, and it seemed like such an odd request, particularly coming from my moms friend, yet I politely responded

"Sure" as she placed her feet in my lap. Again, I got an accidental view up her skirt as she raised her legs up, but I quickly turned my head to look away, and focussed instead on her feet. Taking her left foot in my hand I started gently rubbing it. I didn't know if I was doing a good job, since I had never done this before, but she didn't seem to be complaining.

I did this for awhile, and eventually switched to her right foot. As she adjusted her position, I again noticed out of the corner of my eye a flash of panty, and carefully avoided looking up her skirt, lest she spot me and get offended.

Why am I so curious about seeing up her skirt? She's way older....and my moms friend I admonished myself. Try as I might, I couldn't fully remove the thought from my head. I focussed more heavily on the task at hand, and it helped keep m y mind off it.
At one point she moaned at the sensation of my foot massage, and I found myself getting a strange excited sensation at that, yet couldn't quite place it. I suddenly realized that I had forgot to turn the TV on, and realized that was fine. I was actually enjoying this, sitting here rubbing Mrs. Thorpe's feet. There was something.....I don't know how to put it...nice about just being here with her in the quietness of the living room, her feet in my lap as I rubbed them, and she occasionally made noises like sighs.

"Am I doing an OK job Mrs. Thorpe?"
 
After all the stress of travel and coming to look after a boy I had never met, the gentle touch of his hands on my feet soothed and calmed me. He’d probably never had to stroke someone’s feet before, but at least he’d learn how useful a skill it was, and he was mastering it quickly. Each of my feet got his careful attention and I was soon relaxing deeper into the plush luxury of the sofa.

‘Um, Bill,’ I murmured, ‘that is so good. I’ve had such a long day, you’ve no idea how good that makes me feel.’

He was taking his time, which was nice. So many guys, and my husband is no exception, see this as just a preliminary to working higher and are too eager to rush on, but he wasn’t, probably on account of his inexperience. And he’d been tentative at first too, which was nice as well. It’s good not to be taken for granted and know that the guy is a little bit unsure of how you feel about him. Not that that was an issue with Bill, of course. He was too young to see a woman of my age as a potential sexual partner. No more than I saw him as one.

I moved my position slightly so that my calves were now resting on his lap.

‘That was wonderful, Bill. Now work on my calves, please. They are aching after all the walking I’ve done.’

My skirt was clinging to the plush material and had worked its way up my thighs again, but I was too tired to bother about it.

‘You’ll need to work with your fingers to get all that tension out of my muscles,’ I told him.

I lay back and felt him begin to explore the backs of my calves, tracing the line of the muscle.

‘I’m just going to close my eyes for a few minutes,’ I told him as I settled deeper into the sofa.

‘Hard and deep, Bill, that’s the trick, you have to get in hard and deep.’
 
I did feel a bit awkward at the request to work higher on her legs, yet I figured why not. I mean she was a nice lady, and she was going out of her way to take care of me for the next month so I figured it wouldn't hurt to show a little appreciation.

Working my way up to her calf's, I noticed that she kept herself n very good shape. that was very unusual for women her age yet the fact was she had very toned legs.

Working on the muscles of her calves I used my thumbs to press deeply, to help work out the soreness. Doing this I felt a nice warm sense of closeness with her, wanting to stay like this for awhile. She was a nice lady, pretty and very friendly so I was enjoying this despite the fact that I had initially dreaded being stuck with her.

Again I couldn't help but notice that her skirt had ridden up her thighs and I was in fact getting a fairly clear view of her panties. I was careful not to stare, yet the fact was there was something curiously intriguing about her exposed upper thighs and the visibility of the panties from my angle. Scolding myself I made sure to not stare, despite my curiosity. She's my moms friend and a very nice lady!!!!!. I focussed on keeping my mind elsewhere and putting my efforts into massaging her calves.

After awhile I noticed she wasn't moving or making any sounds. Was she asleep?

"Mrs. Thorpe?" I inquired.

If she was still awake I would ask her what she wanted me to do next. If she did not answer, I would just rest my eyes for a few moments and get back to massaging her calves in a minute or so.
 
Just as when he massaged my feet, Bill was tentative at first when he began working my calves. But he soon gained confidence and dug deep into my stiff and aching muscles, just like I had told him. I closed my eyes, settled back and let my mind drift with relief. Relief as the tension slowly drained away from my legs, setting me free from all that walking and standing around. And soon the relief turned to pleasure. Pleasure at the confident touch of a man’s hands working across my flesh. Except he wasn’t a man. Pleasure too at the cool air that I could feel on the front of my thighs, reminding me that my dress had ridden up even further. It was almost as if it was Bill’s breath tickling the soft hairs as he breathed rhythmically in and out in time with the deep massage of my calves.

With my eyes closed and the comfort of the sofa enveloping me, I would have believed that I was somewhere else with someone else engaging in some very different from the innocent relaxation that Bill was providing. I let my wander over where who and what that might be.

Bill’s voice broke into my reverie. Like his initial touch, his tone was tentative, unsure perhaps of whether I was awake and not wanting to disturb me. I opened my eyes and said the first thing that came into my head.

‘Bill, that was wonderful, just wonderful. I wonder if you’d mind doing something else for me. My shoulders are very stressed too. Could you give them a quick massage to ease them?’

I sat up and twisted on the sofa so that my back was towards him. My dress was up at the top of my thighs now, but he was behind me so that didn’t matter.

‘Just unzip the back of my dress will you, Bill, so that I can ease it over my shoulders for you?’
 
It was a relief that she had answered as I would have felt bad about waking her up. Fortunately, she seemed quite happy and pleased with my performance. Beaming at the praise, I smiled at her in gratitude.
When she mentioned the shoulder massage, I found myself a bit concerned. Weren't massages normally something that people do....romantically? I mean sure I know my mom went to a massage therapist but that was for a neck injury but whenever I saw massages depicted in movies there were usually romantic undertones, and followed by scenes my parents usually tried to prevent me from watching.

Of course when she turned her back to me I figured the debated was settled until she suggested unzipping her dress. Unzip her dress? So she's ...exposed? . I felt a bit nervous about that wondering if that was Ok. Was that normal friendly behaviour? Do boys my age usually unzip lady's dresses to give them shoulder massages Would my mom get the wrong idea if she were to see me doing that?
"Unzip..you?" I looked at her for confirmation that I had heard her right just to be sure.

Upon making eye contact with her I shrugged off my concerns and figured it might just be a cultural thing. My teacher had pointed out that many European cultures did not share the body issues we have in America, and while Mrs. Thorpe was not European this might just be normal where she grew up.

Reaching out with shaky hands, I undid the clasp at the back of her neck holding her dress shut. Upon undoing that I reached tentatively for her zipper, and started to pull it down nervously. Why am I so nervous? It's just a shoulder rub. When the zipper started to slide down, the sound it made gave me a sensation almost like a shiver, as I felt my hands against her warm back through the material of her dress.

As the zipper slid down her back, I saw her skin get exposed, and noticed she had very smooth skin for a woman her age. No blemishes or wrinkles. I also saw the back of her bra strap, and realized this was the first time I ever saw another females bra.

When it was down, I paused before starting as she said she would slide the material over her shoulders so I waited for her to do that.
 
What a pleasure to have Bill touching me. Most of the guys I’ve known haven’t hesitated to go for what they want. Even my husband is like that. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind a guy having self confidence nor do I object, when I am in the right mood, to a guy just taking me. But Bill’s approach is different. He seems hesitant, which I like. It shows he has respect for me and isn’t taking me for granted. Nor is he taking advantage, as some guys would. I was nodding off just then and he could easily have sneaked his hand up above my knee, but he didn’t. He kept within the bounds I had set and I like that.

Take the way he unzipped me. Lost of guys would have taken the chance to stroke my back, but Bill didn’t. His hand just touched me as it inevitably would, but in an accidental not a deliberate way. Like I say, it shows respect. I was busy thinking about this when I realised that he was waiting, waiting for me to push the dress off my shoulders. I eased it down around my waist. What with the skirt rucking up and the top down, it was all in a heap around my hips. He wouldn’t be able to work on my shoulders properly with my bra straps in the way, so I eased them off as well.

‘Bill,’ I said twisting round to face him slightly, ‘you’ve been doing a great job. I’m really impressed. Just carry on like you’ve been doing. Remember to get those fingers of yours into my muscles. Hard and deep that the trick.’

I turned back and felt his warm breath tickling my spine as his hands began to work on my shoulders.
 
When she said "slip it off my shoulders", I had assumed that she would only be exposing shoulders. When she dropped the dress right around her waist, I almost gasped in shock. She was almost semi naked. I quickly looked self consciously, but reassured myself that there was no way to view into this basement.

Why are you so nervous? She's not doing anything wrong...she's just a little more casual than mom or dad. It's just a shoulder rub.
As I processed this, she undid her bra strap and I almost went over the edge at that. OK, this had crossed over to the point of uncomfortable. Was this normal for a woman her age to be topless like this with a boy my age? Would she be doing this if my mom was here?

I reminded myself that she was still holding the cups in place and that she was not doing anything inappropriate. Perhaps more casual than my strict religious upbringing would mesh with, but not wrong.
Reaching forward, I placed my hands tentatively on her naked shoulders and immediately felt a shiver go through me. Her skin was soft and flawless, warm to the touch and she appeared to take pretty good care of herself. I don't know if it was actual physical excitement or just nervousness, but I felt my pulse quicken and even found myself feeling a slight stirring in the pelvic region. Feeling awkward about that and slightly ashamed, I tried to take my mind off of how good it felt to have my hands on the soft warm skin of a pretty woman and just focussed.

Working my fingers into the muscles, I slowly started working the shoulders. I worked slowly out towards the tip of the shoulders, and then back in massaging the neck muscles. As I did this, I found myself really enjoying the moment. There was something comforting about sitting here, so intimately with Mrs. Thorpe as I ran my hands over her neck and shoulders. I also couldn't help but notice that her perfume was very nice smelling.

"Am I doing OK?"
 
Bill as always is tentative at first but quickly into his stride, perhaps responding to my evident pleasure. I purr quietly to myself, a low hum of pleasure, and occasionally roll my head and push myself back against him as his fingers burrow into one of my more sensitive spots. It is not long before I forget where I am or who I am with. My head begins to nod and my hands drop. I recall where I am just to time to press the cups of my bra back in place and sit upright to stay alert, but it is not long before I am nodding again and have to force myself to awake.

‘That’s good, Bill, sooooo good.’ Maybe talking will help. ‘I can feel that working deep down my spine. Ummm, good, so good. Work on my neck muscles too. that’s just so wonderful.’

But again I am forgetting myself. A neck rub is one of my special treats, which inevitably leads on to me reaching behind and rubbing my husband’s cock. He does it to me sometimes when we are in company, at a party say, knowing how it will make me feel and enjoying the thrill of my touching his cock when no one is looking. Involuntarily I start to bring my hand round behind me, but remember just in time and manage to stop my bra falling.

‘Has anyone ever done this to you?’ I ask quickly to cover my embarrassment.
 
lolling her head sometimes, as though luxuriating at my touch. At this point I can't deny that to an extent there is something a bit exciting about putting my hands on this semi naked woman's neck and shoulders, and I wonder if she would want me to work a bit more of the back. The tantalizing purr's she releases have me starting to feel a bit of a tingly excitement, relishing in the intimacy of what I am doing here.

When she starts talking, she sounds almost sensual in her response, the huskiness of her voice as she pushes back against my hands only adds to my enjoyment. I start trying not to focus on that, embarrassed by the fact that I'm finding my moms friend attractive.

Attractive?. I shake the thought away, embarrassed at the thought. She's your moms friend you idiot! And she's way older than you!! I find myself starting to perspire a bit, swallowing frequently. I remind myself that she is my friend's mother, and that this is just a massage yet I find that each time her hands slip, allowing her bra to fall a bit, I have to refrain from gasping.

As I rub her, she suddenly shifts her body weight a bit, and her hand starts reaching back towards...... my crotch?!. My mouth drops open in anticipation for what seems like an eternity, yet was probably less than a second before she immediately yanked her hand back, realizing her mistake. She was probably just reaching back for balance and realized where her hand was accidentally going...not intentional. The problem was, her bra started to slip quite a bit this time, and I saw a bit of side boob this time.

The anticipation as her hand went towards my crotch, granted an accident, and the view of sideboob suddenly caused a reaction in me........I started getting an erection!!
Oh no!...Oh...no no..nooooo...please not that! I plead in my mind, begging the offending organ to just go back to its normal state. Please soften! Please! I think. then of course she asks me if anyone has ever done this to me before. Done what? Accidentally gotten me aroused? I assume she meant something more innocent and clear my throat to speak, but my words almost come out hoarse, like a whisper.

"No" I barely gasp the words

I focus on trying to get rid of the woody, yet the harder I try, the more determined it seems to get to press up in an embarrassingly obvious budge in my pants. To aggravate my problem, Mrs Thorpe kept rolling her head and moving her body in a sensual way to my touch. In fairness to her she had no idea the effect she was having on me, but I really wished she would stay still and stop that sensual purring for a moment and let me gain control over myself. And I really wished I could get the smell of her perfume out of my nose as it was driving me wild.

I needed to get rid of this bulge now, before she noticed. My first thought was to keep her enjoying the massage so she would stay with her back to me. I focussed on trying to think of things, or anything that would make this embarrassing reaction go away. The first thing that came to mind was when I was at my friends pool and I saw both his grandmothers from his mom and dad's side, both in their 80's wearing bathing suits. That vision did help start getting this shameful bulge to go away. The problem was she kept moaning and moving which countered the effect of getting rid of it.

I breathed deeply and slowy, keeping my eyes off of her, thinking of anything but her, just wanting this damned hardon to go away. Please don't turn around.....please I begged in my mind, my face turning red. If she turned around and her eyes went downward for even a second she would see it. I dreaded that, knowing she would be furious at me for having such disgusting thoughts when she was being so nice. Would she tell my mom? Oh god...No! I would be horrified having to explain to my parents why I got an erection over their friend. They'd of course make me apologise to her. I pondered casually slipping a pillow into my lap to cover it but realized that would be a dead giveaway.

Breathing deeply, I felt myself relaxing and realized I was staring to soften a tiny bit. This was a relief, my efforts at self control were finally working. While thinking of my friends two grandmothers in their bathing suits I even thought of seeing his 400 pound uncle in a speedo bathing suit, covered in chest hair and back hair, with massive manboobs. That really helped to soften my hardness a bit.


OK, Mrs Thorpe, Please just don't do anything to get me excited again and I think I can make this thing go away I thought breathing deeply and evenly, focussing on self control. And whatever you do please do not turn around. Just remain ignorant to what is going on behind you for just another minute, keep your head and eyes to the front and I'll be able to put this embarrassing little episode behind me.. I was feeling tremendous relief that it was starting to soften considerably, and that she would never know what had just happened. I still kept rubbing her neck and shoulders and focussed on breathing deeply.
 
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