For a Saturday, it was a very despondent day indeed. My best friend’s father had died that week and we rushed back from college to attend the funeral. I knew his family well, and we were all very sad at the passing of Tony. Despite Vincent’s mother wearing a heavy black veil her grief and tears were evident. Too young for a man to die, only in his early 50’s. Heart disease they said. I knew Vincent’ mother through my teenage years and always thought her a beautiful and sexy lady. But this Saturday all I could see was her grief and pain, and I felt great sympathy for her.
A few months later I was back in town and thought to pay her a visit, to bring her a gift of flowers and wish her my condolences. I also brought her a few bottles of Merlot, remembering that this was her favorite. I showed up unannounced but she smiled broadly nonetheless when she opened the door, seeing the flowers and a face she probably last recalled from when I was in high school. I had grown a few years since then and in that time learned to appreciate the benefits that women had to offer. And on seeing Mrs. Comeau I saw that she had lost none of beauty, charm or curves that I remembered her possessing.
Though a woman in her late 40′ she maintained a very womanly figure. Presented before me in jeans and a sweater I noticed both the sweetness of her face and the curves of her figure. Yes, her face showed her age, but her wrinkles were overwhelmed by her soft lips and doe like eyes. Not a slender lady, she had a shape of a true woman, with large breasts, well rounded hips and thick yet welcoming thighs. But I had seen too many skinny girls in college and her warm broad curves made my groin begin to tingle at the sight of her once again.
I could see the heavy breasts concealed by the sweater, large bulbous cantaloupe’s thrusting from her chest. And her jeans hung tightly around her wide hips and shapely thighs. My stiffy began to grow as I shyly handed her the flowers and I believe that I blushed as I also handed her the bag containing the wine. I lowered my head, averting her gaze and trying not to appear to be staring at her tits, which I must admit I was. With a warm voice she said “Well thank-you Adrian for all the thoughtful gift! Won’t you please come in!”
I entered the door, stumbling over my feet. As she turned around I could not resist the temptation to view her ass in those jeans. I was not disappointed. The jeans hung tightly about her broad bum, accentuating the ample curves. I don’t recall her dressing so sexy when I was in high-school. Had she dressed more conservatively then or had I just not paid attention? Or with her husband gone was she now able to more freely express her own preferred style of dress? Or maybe even trying to find another man in the city to hook up with? With the image of her breasts and ass swirling in my head I considered the possibilities.
We sat on opposite ends of the couch as I fumbling for words to express how sorry I was about her husband. Having referred to her as Mrs. Comeau she insisted that I call her Margaret now that we were both adults. She said that she appreciated my remarks but that there was no need to mention Tony furthermore, as, as she said “Life must move on for those still among the living.” She looked a bit sad on uttering the words. But her sadness was soon replaced with a smile and she jumped to her feet, exclaiming that she would like a glass of the wine now that I had brought and offered me a glass as well. I had taken the bus across town and so had no need to worry about driving, and feeling rather tense and shy, I accepted the offer.
As we sat together and slowly polished off the first bottle of wine the conversation opened up and we talked about everything under the sun! My school courses and experiences at the college, her hobbies, how her son was doing, how she was feeling and making on with her life without Tony. As the drinks continued to flow and as the day progressed into evening the conversation expanded to more person matters. She asked if I had a girlfriend. I explained that I had known girls at College but did not have a steady girlfriend. Then overcoming my reserve I inquired whether she had found other companionship.
With more candor than I expected she explained “My friends convinced me to try on-line dating and though I met many nice gentlemen, most were too old for my taste, and those that di interest me proved, how shall I say, ‘not able to sustain my level of enthusiasm’, I suppose would be the best way to explain it to, you know, such a young gentleman as yourself. Smiling warmly at me as she expressed this though she rose upward, saying that she would open the next bottle and bring us another glass of wine. Surprisingly I watched her ascend the stairs to the second floor rather to proceed to the kitchen where the wine was. A few moments later she descended the stairs in what appeared to be a heavy housecoat. Entering the kitchen she returned with the new bottle.
Standing before me, looking rather more provocative than when she had left, she refilled my glass and mentioned as she closed the blinds to the windows that it was now too late to catch a bus but that I was welcome to spend the night and could sleep in her son’s room. Sitting herself this time directly beside me on the couch she topped up her own wine glass. “A toast, to old acquaintances and new found friends!” She offered and we clinked our glasses. Gulping her wine I watched as she used her tongue to lip the liquor from her lips and then as she bit down upon her pouty lower lip.
For an older lady, she was starting to drive me crazy with desire! Her housecoat revealed a ripe cleavage that I had never seen so exposed before and the split in the gown hinted at smooth calves and supple curved thighs. My eyes could not resist the temptation to explore her flesh and she noticed how my view shyly would linger on her boobs or legs and then try to inconspicuously move away. She also noticed the bulge I could not suppress from growing under my pants and I noticed her own eyes fixated upon my groin.
Our conversation grew more quiet, more careful, turning almost to whispers. Stroking my hair with her free hand, her face only inches from mine, she asked why I did not have a girlfriend, adding that boys my age needed continual relief if they were to be able to focus on their studies. Before I could reply she smiled and let out a soft giggle, and kissing my cheek rose herself up, saying that she had to use the facilities. When she returned it was evident that she had deliberately left the belt around her housecoat loose. Instead of tightly hugging her body the garment now flowed softly around her. As she strutted toward me I caught the sight of white panties beneath her emerald green gown. Her ample cleavage was not clearly evident, and I could not resist intensely gazing at the soft jiggling flesh as she walked toward me.
Placing herself down beside me she insisted that we resume our conversation where we had left off. With her one thigh completely bare and her left breast virtually exposed, she asked how a young buck as myself managed to keep focused on my studies and not distracted by my manly urges. I shy looked downward, first at her leg, then at her virtually exposed boob, and then at the obviously rock hard dick under my pants. I was left speechless. “Let me guess.” She teased, ‘You have to stroke yourself off every day. Maybe a couple of times a day. Oh, am I embarrassing you. So sorry, but it is perfectly normal for a man to jerk himself off every day, especially a younger man as yourself.”
Looking downward,” she added “I can see that you have not yet masturbated today.” And with these words her hand descended downward and she stroked her fingers over my hard-on, so tightly wrapped in my jeans. Shocked, looking up at her, she planted a long kiss on my lips. Unable to speak in response she continued “I understand, you will need to jerk off before you go to sleep tonight, and truth is, being a bit lonely here, and more than a bit tipsy, I have to admit that I would love to watch. Truth is, I haven’t seen a really stiff cock in many years and really miss having one of my own to play with and satisfy. And I so used to love watching boys jerking off as I teased them when I was a younger woman. So why don’t I help you out of those tight restraining jeans of yours, and you can remind me what a hard penis looks like, and let me play with myself as I watch you stroke on it for me?” Still dumbfounded and motionless I watched as her hand fell back down upon my cock and ever so briefly she squeezed my dick through my pants and slid her fingers along my shaft.
“In fact,” she teased “if you like, I can even show you a little flesh to help you along!” With her hand she then pushed the gown back over the breast that was already virtually exposed, and with the single motion brought into my view the fullness of her large breast and the dark swollen nipple and aureole that capped the soft sensuous flesh. My eyes locked onto her beautiful boob, unable to move away. She cupped my head and stroked my hair. “Do you like my tit?” She asked. Looking up at her shyly I nodded my head. Pulling me tight she placed a long hard kiss onto my mouth. “Tell me what you want Adrian. Don’t be shy. Tell me what my man wants.” She whispered in my ear. “Beg, darling, I want to hear you beg.”
“I want your tits Margaret, I want to feel that gorgeous breasts in my mouth. I want your soft round ass in my hands. I…I want to pull down your panties and see how broad and thick your brown bush is. I want to shove my tongue up between your thighs. And then, and then I want to shove …” I had been bold enough to utter the words I had already, and wished that I could somehow take them back, ashamed of myself for having uttered them.
I felt relaxed again when I heard her say “And all those lustful little thoughts of yours you shall do, my handsome little playtoy, all in good time. But first, you are going to have to let me help you off with those pants so that you can show me how you play with yourself.” Looking at her breast once again, and then into her eyes, I sat speechless and open mouthed. “Stand up, don’t be shy.” Margaret teased. Helping me to my feet I stood before her. She leaned toward me and I watched as her big soft tit swung forward and bounced and jiggled as it hung from her chest. Reaching up she undid my buckle, the button to my jeans and my zipper. The whole while she looked up at me, smiling, licking her lips. Pulling my jeans down to my ankles she helped me to remove them, along with my socks. Rubbing her hands over my legs and then onto my belly she let her one hand stroke up and down over the rod that thrust upward through my underwear.
Grabbing hold of my dick through the material she uttered “mmm, nice hard cock.” Then taking my underwear from both sides she pulled the elastic band downward. She pulled the band deliberately down directly over my cock so that my rigid member bounced up and down in front of her face once it was released. Leaving my underwear hanging about my knees she took the base of my cock in one hand and clasped my balls in the other. Softly stroking and squeezing my cock and my balls she added “mmm, very nice hard cock indeed!” I watched her as she stared at my cock admiringly.
Then she leaned forward further and took the head of my cock into her mouth. She sucked my cock, but only briefly. Pulling her head free she asked “Did you like me sucking your cock?” I nodded that I did. “I will suck your cock lots more tonight, and so much more as well, but first you have to be a good boy and show me how you stroke that hard dick of yours when there is no woman around to show you her tits or suck you off.” I stood a bit paralyzed, but she took my hand and wrapped it around my shaft and as she worked my underwear off told me “There you go, don’t be shy, show me how a young man strokes his cock when he is fantasizing about fucking his best friend’s mother.” Her words got me excited and without further hesitation I began to stroke my dick while she watched.
Watching me stroke my dick Margaret laid back on the couch and releasing the belt to her gown pulled the material back to each side, exposing to my view both her large breasts as they flopped to the sides of her chest, her soft but still flat belly, her pretty white panties, and her thick, supple, smooth thighs. “Keep stroking that meat for me baby.” She said as she cupped her heavy tits in her hands and raised them up, letting me admire the masses of soft silky flesh and the big dark nipples. She purposefully jostled her breasts in her hands, watching me as I watched the jiggling flesh. “You like big tits, don’t you Adrian?” Nodding my agreement she added “I knew you were a big tit man. I used to notice how you tried to innocently look down my top when I was bent over when you were visiting.”