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My First MILF
Part 1
When you grew up in a conservative small rural community in the mid-west back in the 1960s, it was not unusual to reach high school graduation without being initiated into the practical realities of sex. None of my friends had had sex. Petting or copping a feel was a big deal. One of my friends claimed to have felt his girlfriend's tits a few times, but I was more than a little suspicious about that. One of the girls in my class was rumored to have been "ruined" by a college guy. That was it.
But that doesn't mean that my adolescent hormones weren't raging totally out of control. My thoughts were almost totally consumed with girls and sex. Even at the ripe old age of 18, I still had more questions about sex than answers, but that didn’t keep me from constantly thinking about and fantasizing about girls and sex ... and more sex. Like most boys, I was practically obsessed with thoughts of sex. My complete knowledge about sex came from my father’s “secret” stash of girly magazines and a few erotic novels (I don't even count what we learned in health class as sex education). I couldn’t wait both my parents to be out of the house so I could grab one and jerk off looking at all those naked tits. They didn’t even show pubic hair in those days! But no matter how many times I would jerk off during the day, I was still perpetually horny.
To say the least, I was looking forward to college in the fall and the prospect of all those loose college coeds. It was the dawn of the sexual revolution and I planned on being right there on the front lines.
Colleen lived next door and I so much wanted to get in her pants. She was just a year younger than me and cute as hell. Her tits and tight little ass were driving me crazy with lust. I kept trying to come up with ways to get into her pants, but she only seemed to be interested in playing the violin and reading. And of course, trying to avoid her pestering younger brother.
But to be quite honest, the real focus of my fantasies was her mother.
I was totally infatuated sexually with this “older woman,” though Brenda was probably only in her late thirties. That didn’t matter to me. I was horny, curious and Brenda was a sexy woman who I fantasized would teach me everything I wanted to know about sex. And she did exactly that in many late night (and frequently morning and afternoon) fantasies while I beat off.
Brenda was a very attractive woman. She had light strawberry blonde hair with fair skin. Most importantly to a horny k**, she was built like a brick shithouse. She had nice sized tits that looked incredible in those late-sixties pointy bras. She was relatively tall, slender and had perfect long legs.
Brenda’s legs were probably the source of my preference for women with long sexy legs as an adult; to this day, I consider myself a committed leg man. Brenda was in personnel for a large local company and almost always wore dresses and heels to the office. She wore suits or the usual late-sixties dresses that were tight above the waist, showing off her great tits, with a full skirt that typically fell right above the knees. She always wore stockings or pantyhose (I didn’t know which) and highheel pumps. Once in a while on Fridays during the summer, to my total delight, Brenda would wear a tight knit top with hot pants, pantyhose and highheel pumps to work. I have to believe the men in her office loved those Fridays and I frequently wondered (and fantasized) just how much they enjoyed Brenda’s outfit – on or off.
I particularly looked forward to Brenda arriving home from work in the late afternoon. She would pull her big white Buick up to the garage door and park outside. Her garage was opposite our living room window, so I could spy between the curtains and see her as she opened the car door and climbed out of her car. I’d see her heels first, then her long legs and as her dress slid up her legs, I sometimes, on rare but delightful occasions, got to see if she was wearing stockings or pantyhose. She would smooth her dress down and walk to the backdoor. Then I would run to my room or the bathroom to furiously beat off. If my mother wasn’t home, I could beat off right at the window and make myself cum watching Brenda walk to the door.
Later that night in bed, I would replay the scene and beat my meat mentally picturing Brenda again.
I will never forget the day everything changed. I discovered a few days earlier that I could hide in the shed in our back yard and get a better angle through the old window as Brenda got out of her car. That day I was in place in the shed so she couldn’t see me and had my hard dick out in excited anticipation of her getting home. My chest was pounding as the Buick pulled up the drive and stopped outside the garage. Brenda sat in her car longer than usual before the door opened. When it did, Brenda swung her left leg out and placed it on the driveway and just sat there. She was wearing one of my favorite Brenda outfits – a yellow dress tight enough to show off her body, suntan stockings and white pumps. A favorite jerk off vision. My dick was hard as a rock as I pumped it in my fist. Brenda slid forward and her dress slid further up her leg. This was amazing. Why hadn’t I thought of hiding in the corn before? What a view! Her upper thigh became visible – pantyhose. I was jerking faster, intent on shooting my load to the live sight of Brenda.
Brenda stood up and moved out of the way to close the car door. What a pair of legs! She turned and started to walk toward the back door. My stroking accelerated to make myself cum before she got to the door. I had waited all day for this moment and I needed to shoot.
Suddenly, she stopped and looked straight toward the shed. I nearly died! How could she know that I was there? How could she see me? I panicked. I wanted to run. Was that a smile on her face? Then she turned and continued to the door, unlocked it and went inside. As soon as she did, I stuffed my suddenly deflated dick back in my pants and ran for my house. Of course, the scare didn’t keep me from going straight to my room to beat off.
I was nervous the next evening, but I was drawn back to the shed. I couldn’t get enough of Brenda’s legs. And anyway, there was no way she could have seen me through the dirty window in the dark shed. It must have been a coincidence.
Brenda was late that evening. I was starting to worry that my father would be home soon and I needed to get inside for dinner as soon as he arrived. As I was about to give up, the Buick pulled up the driveway and stopped in its usual spot. The door opened, and just like the previous day, Brenda swung her left leg out and paused there. This day, she wore another of my favorites, a pale blue dress with nude stockings and pale blue pumps. The dress rode up again. WOW! Was that a stocking top that I could see? Oh my gawd! Not only was I seeing her stocking top, but suddenly she shifted and I could see skin above the stocking top. My hand was flying up and down my rock hard dick. Brenda touched the skin, apparently adjusting the garter strap that held the stocking up. Then she got out of the car, closed the door and walked to the back door.
I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to get inside to my room so I could beat off to the mental image burned into my memory. As soon as the back door closed, I slipped out from my hiding spot and headed for our back door. I knew I better get in before my father got home.
I suddenly heard my name. No, couldn’t be. Ignore it. Neither of my parents was home yet. Then I heard it again. That was my name and it was coming from the direction of Brenda’s house. And it sounded like Brenda. I wanted to run. She had caught me. I was dead.
Brenda called again and I stopped. She was standing outside the back patio sliders and asked if I could come over quick and help her with something. Brenda’s husband was a truck driver and was on the road from Sunday evening until Friday afternoon, so when Brenda needed anything done around the house that required someone tall or able to lift, she would ask me. I was hoping that was what this was about.
The patio sliders led into the dining room next to the kitchen. Brenda had left the slider open, and as I came in, Brenda was sitting on one of the dining room chairs, her legs crossed with the hem of her skirt high on her thighs.
“Have you been spying on me?”
Oh shit! I was dead meat!
“What? No!” I tried to sound confident, but my voice came out weak.
“I know you were in the shed watching me when I got home. You have been watching me from your window for a long time. And now the shed.”
“No ... no I haven’t.” I was scared to death. Was she going to tell my parents?
“Please don’t lie to me. I know you have been spying on me.”
How could she know? She was just guessing. If I kept denying it, I would be OK. I hoped.
“No, really.” I was trying to meet her eye contact to show my sincerity, but those legs… I couldn’t take my eyes off of those incredible legs.
“Have you been looking at my legs when I get out of my car?”
Damn, how could she know? She knew though. She was going to tell my parents.
“No, really! I wouldn’t do that.”
“Please don’t lie to me. I know you have. You like my legs, don’t you?”
Her hands were on her thighs now, sliding the hem even higher. The darker part at the stocking tops was now peaking out. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.
“Don’t you? You like my legs, don’t you? I can tell.”
I couldn’t speak. I shook my head.
“You don’t? I am so hurt.” She sounded upset. That made me worry that I would say something wrong that would make her tell my parents. Of course I liked her legs. But I couldn’t speak. I could only stare.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your parents if you’re just honest with me. You’ve been spying on me and watching my legs, haven’t you? Be honest.”
What could I do? I nodded yes.
“I knew it. I knew you liked my legs, don’t you?” She was running her fingers over the top of her stocking and bouncing her heel, the toe pointing at me.
I nodded my head.
“I can tell you like my legs. You’re getting hard, aren’t you? You get hard when you look at my legs, don’t you?”
I suddenly realized that my dick was so hard in my tented pants that it hurt. I wanted to rearrange it to a more comfortable position, but I was afraid.
“Does your dick get hard when you watch me?”
I nodded.
“What do you call your dick when it gets hard like that?”
Shit! My mouth moved, but nothing came out.
“What do you call it?”
I hesitated, trying to gain some control of my voice.
“Boner.”
“Do you play with your boner while you watch me?”
Oh no! I was so traumatized I didn’t realize she was teasing me. I could feel my face turning a hundred shades of red. I was so embarrassed. But a little bit of pale white skin was now visible above her stocking. I wanted desperately to touch my dick.
I nodded.
“Does creamy white stuff shoot out when you play with your boner while you watch my legs?”
“No.” For some reason, admitting to that seemed one step too far.
The look on her face said she knew I was lying.
Shit, she was going to tell my parents. I couldn’t say that though. But what if she told my parents? I was scared to death.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Do you have a boner now?”
Shit yes! I nodded my head.
“I want to see your boner. I bet it's a nice one! Open your pants and show me your boner.” The way she emphasized the word boner made my boner twitch.
At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to take out my boner and beat off. It was so hard and my fantasy was sitting right there in front of me with her long legs crossed and looking so hot.
And she wanted to see my boner. Brenda wanted to see my boner!
I stood there frozen.
“Show me your boner. I want to see your hard boy meat.”
Brenda recrossed her legs. Slowly. I could see up her dress as she uncrossed her legs, but there was too much of a shadow to see anything. And that sound. The sound stockings make when they rub across themselves. That sound drove me crazy. I almost creamed in my pants.
“Show me your boner and I won’t have to tell your parents about what you have been doing. You’ve been a very bad boy. I don't want to have to tell your parents. Come on now, let’s see it.”
I hesitated a moment and opened my belt. What was I doing? I unsnapped the pants and pulled down the zipper. My boner was so hard. I pushed down my shorts and underpants and my boner sprang up and slapped against my stomach.
“Oh my! What a nice boner! Oh gawd, you are bigger than I expected. That’s a very nice boner!” Brenda’s voice sounded like she was out of breath. “Oh my! That looks very hard!”
My boner was twitching. I wanted to grab hold of it, but I just stood there.
Brenda licked her lips. “Play with it for me. I want to see how you play with your boner while you watch my legs.”
At that point, I didn’t need any further encouragement and didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my boner and started pumping it fast. This was incredible. The woman I had beat off so many times thinking about was sitting right in front of me and telling me to play with myself. This was great!
“Slow down. Not so fast. I want to watch you beat off that beauty.”
Brenda was running her hands up and down her legs, her nails making that sound as they ran over the nylon. The front of her skirt was now up around her waist and I could clearly see the garters as they held up her stockings. Damn. Slow or fast, I was going to explode any moment. I didn’t want to; somehow I still thought I was going to get in trouble. But I wanted to cream so much. I was so excited.
“Go ahead. Make your cream shoot out for me. Make your beautiful boner squirt.”
Brenda uncrossed her legs and spread her thighs wide open. Pussy! She wasn’t wearing panties and I was seeing my very first hairy pussy. Brenda’s pussy!
“Shoot all that beautiful yummy dick juice for me!”
I didn’t need to be told. A huge long stream of cum suddenly shot out toward Brenda and splattered on the floor. That was followed by another blast. And another.
“Yes! That’s it! Ohhhh yes, look at all that yummy cream! Shoot it all for me! Cum for me! Oh my … YESSSSS!”
More cream was now flowing out of my boner and over my hand. It felt like my entire body had come out through my dick. I had never shot so hard or so much.
I collapsed on one of the dining room chairs; every ounce of my strength had drained out through my dick and lay puddled all over the floor.
Brenda got up and went over to the sink and brought me a towel. She knelt down and started to clean up the floor with another towel. I suddenly was worried about the mess I had made on her floor and knelt down to help.
“Don’t worry about that. Clean yourself up and get dressed. You better get home before your parents miss you.”
I quickly zipped up and ran home without even saying good bye.
That night in bed, I beat off thinking about what I had seen. I had seen Brenda’s pussy and she had watched me beat off for her. I came so hard that sperm shot over my head and splattered against the headboard. Wow! Fifteen minutes later, I was back pounding my boner again.
But I was also scared to death. I was still worried that she would tell my parents. For several days, I alternated between beating off from youthful sexual excitement and worrying to death with fear that Brenda would tell my parents. Somehow, it never occurred to me that if she told my parents, she would get in even more trouble than I would. Every time the phone rang, I jumped with fear. But as the days passed and nothing happened, I relaxed. But my fear didn’t make me beat off any less often.
Stay tuned for more to cum …
Part 1
When you grew up in a conservative small rural community in the mid-west back in the 1960s, it was not unusual to reach high school graduation without being initiated into the practical realities of sex. None of my friends had had sex. Petting or copping a feel was a big deal. One of my friends claimed to have felt his girlfriend's tits a few times, but I was more than a little suspicious about that. One of the girls in my class was rumored to have been "ruined" by a college guy. That was it.
But that doesn't mean that my adolescent hormones weren't raging totally out of control. My thoughts were almost totally consumed with girls and sex. Even at the ripe old age of 18, I still had more questions about sex than answers, but that didn’t keep me from constantly thinking about and fantasizing about girls and sex ... and more sex. Like most boys, I was practically obsessed with thoughts of sex. My complete knowledge about sex came from my father’s “secret” stash of girly magazines and a few erotic novels (I don't even count what we learned in health class as sex education). I couldn’t wait both my parents to be out of the house so I could grab one and jerk off looking at all those naked tits. They didn’t even show pubic hair in those days! But no matter how many times I would jerk off during the day, I was still perpetually horny.
To say the least, I was looking forward to college in the fall and the prospect of all those loose college coeds. It was the dawn of the sexual revolution and I planned on being right there on the front lines.
Colleen lived next door and I so much wanted to get in her pants. She was just a year younger than me and cute as hell. Her tits and tight little ass were driving me crazy with lust. I kept trying to come up with ways to get into her pants, but she only seemed to be interested in playing the violin and reading. And of course, trying to avoid her pestering younger brother.
But to be quite honest, the real focus of my fantasies was her mother.
I was totally infatuated sexually with this “older woman,” though Brenda was probably only in her late thirties. That didn’t matter to me. I was horny, curious and Brenda was a sexy woman who I fantasized would teach me everything I wanted to know about sex. And she did exactly that in many late night (and frequently morning and afternoon) fantasies while I beat off.
Brenda was a very attractive woman. She had light strawberry blonde hair with fair skin. Most importantly to a horny k**, she was built like a brick shithouse. She had nice sized tits that looked incredible in those late-sixties pointy bras. She was relatively tall, slender and had perfect long legs.
Brenda’s legs were probably the source of my preference for women with long sexy legs as an adult; to this day, I consider myself a committed leg man. Brenda was in personnel for a large local company and almost always wore dresses and heels to the office. She wore suits or the usual late-sixties dresses that were tight above the waist, showing off her great tits, with a full skirt that typically fell right above the knees. She always wore stockings or pantyhose (I didn’t know which) and highheel pumps. Once in a while on Fridays during the summer, to my total delight, Brenda would wear a tight knit top with hot pants, pantyhose and highheel pumps to work. I have to believe the men in her office loved those Fridays and I frequently wondered (and fantasized) just how much they enjoyed Brenda’s outfit – on or off.
I particularly looked forward to Brenda arriving home from work in the late afternoon. She would pull her big white Buick up to the garage door and park outside. Her garage was opposite our living room window, so I could spy between the curtains and see her as she opened the car door and climbed out of her car. I’d see her heels first, then her long legs and as her dress slid up her legs, I sometimes, on rare but delightful occasions, got to see if she was wearing stockings or pantyhose. She would smooth her dress down and walk to the backdoor. Then I would run to my room or the bathroom to furiously beat off. If my mother wasn’t home, I could beat off right at the window and make myself cum watching Brenda walk to the door.
Later that night in bed, I would replay the scene and beat my meat mentally picturing Brenda again.
I will never forget the day everything changed. I discovered a few days earlier that I could hide in the shed in our back yard and get a better angle through the old window as Brenda got out of her car. That day I was in place in the shed so she couldn’t see me and had my hard dick out in excited anticipation of her getting home. My chest was pounding as the Buick pulled up the drive and stopped outside the garage. Brenda sat in her car longer than usual before the door opened. When it did, Brenda swung her left leg out and placed it on the driveway and just sat there. She was wearing one of my favorite Brenda outfits – a yellow dress tight enough to show off her body, suntan stockings and white pumps. A favorite jerk off vision. My dick was hard as a rock as I pumped it in my fist. Brenda slid forward and her dress slid further up her leg. This was amazing. Why hadn’t I thought of hiding in the corn before? What a view! Her upper thigh became visible – pantyhose. I was jerking faster, intent on shooting my load to the live sight of Brenda.
Brenda stood up and moved out of the way to close the car door. What a pair of legs! She turned and started to walk toward the back door. My stroking accelerated to make myself cum before she got to the door. I had waited all day for this moment and I needed to shoot.
Suddenly, she stopped and looked straight toward the shed. I nearly died! How could she know that I was there? How could she see me? I panicked. I wanted to run. Was that a smile on her face? Then she turned and continued to the door, unlocked it and went inside. As soon as she did, I stuffed my suddenly deflated dick back in my pants and ran for my house. Of course, the scare didn’t keep me from going straight to my room to beat off.
I was nervous the next evening, but I was drawn back to the shed. I couldn’t get enough of Brenda’s legs. And anyway, there was no way she could have seen me through the dirty window in the dark shed. It must have been a coincidence.
Brenda was late that evening. I was starting to worry that my father would be home soon and I needed to get inside for dinner as soon as he arrived. As I was about to give up, the Buick pulled up the driveway and stopped in its usual spot. The door opened, and just like the previous day, Brenda swung her left leg out and paused there. This day, she wore another of my favorites, a pale blue dress with nude stockings and pale blue pumps. The dress rode up again. WOW! Was that a stocking top that I could see? Oh my gawd! Not only was I seeing her stocking top, but suddenly she shifted and I could see skin above the stocking top. My hand was flying up and down my rock hard dick. Brenda touched the skin, apparently adjusting the garter strap that held the stocking up. Then she got out of the car, closed the door and walked to the back door.
I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to get inside to my room so I could beat off to the mental image burned into my memory. As soon as the back door closed, I slipped out from my hiding spot and headed for our back door. I knew I better get in before my father got home.
I suddenly heard my name. No, couldn’t be. Ignore it. Neither of my parents was home yet. Then I heard it again. That was my name and it was coming from the direction of Brenda’s house. And it sounded like Brenda. I wanted to run. She had caught me. I was dead.
Brenda called again and I stopped. She was standing outside the back patio sliders and asked if I could come over quick and help her with something. Brenda’s husband was a truck driver and was on the road from Sunday evening until Friday afternoon, so when Brenda needed anything done around the house that required someone tall or able to lift, she would ask me. I was hoping that was what this was about.
The patio sliders led into the dining room next to the kitchen. Brenda had left the slider open, and as I came in, Brenda was sitting on one of the dining room chairs, her legs crossed with the hem of her skirt high on her thighs.
“Have you been spying on me?”
Oh shit! I was dead meat!
“What? No!” I tried to sound confident, but my voice came out weak.
“I know you were in the shed watching me when I got home. You have been watching me from your window for a long time. And now the shed.”
“No ... no I haven’t.” I was scared to death. Was she going to tell my parents?
“Please don’t lie to me. I know you have been spying on me.”
How could she know? She was just guessing. If I kept denying it, I would be OK. I hoped.
“No, really.” I was trying to meet her eye contact to show my sincerity, but those legs… I couldn’t take my eyes off of those incredible legs.
“Have you been looking at my legs when I get out of my car?”
Damn, how could she know? She knew though. She was going to tell my parents.
“No, really! I wouldn’t do that.”
“Please don’t lie to me. I know you have. You like my legs, don’t you?”
Her hands were on her thighs now, sliding the hem even higher. The darker part at the stocking tops was now peaking out. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.
“Don’t you? You like my legs, don’t you? I can tell.”
I couldn’t speak. I shook my head.
“You don’t? I am so hurt.” She sounded upset. That made me worry that I would say something wrong that would make her tell my parents. Of course I liked her legs. But I couldn’t speak. I could only stare.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your parents if you’re just honest with me. You’ve been spying on me and watching my legs, haven’t you? Be honest.”
What could I do? I nodded yes.
“I knew it. I knew you liked my legs, don’t you?” She was running her fingers over the top of her stocking and bouncing her heel, the toe pointing at me.
I nodded my head.
“I can tell you like my legs. You’re getting hard, aren’t you? You get hard when you look at my legs, don’t you?”
I suddenly realized that my dick was so hard in my tented pants that it hurt. I wanted to rearrange it to a more comfortable position, but I was afraid.
“Does your dick get hard when you watch me?”
I nodded.
“What do you call your dick when it gets hard like that?”
Shit! My mouth moved, but nothing came out.
“What do you call it?”
I hesitated, trying to gain some control of my voice.
“Boner.”
“Do you play with your boner while you watch me?”
Oh no! I was so traumatized I didn’t realize she was teasing me. I could feel my face turning a hundred shades of red. I was so embarrassed. But a little bit of pale white skin was now visible above her stocking. I wanted desperately to touch my dick.
I nodded.
“Does creamy white stuff shoot out when you play with your boner while you watch my legs?”
“No.” For some reason, admitting to that seemed one step too far.
The look on her face said she knew I was lying.
Shit, she was going to tell my parents. I couldn’t say that though. But what if she told my parents? I was scared to death.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Do you have a boner now?”
Shit yes! I nodded my head.
“I want to see your boner. I bet it's a nice one! Open your pants and show me your boner.” The way she emphasized the word boner made my boner twitch.
At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to take out my boner and beat off. It was so hard and my fantasy was sitting right there in front of me with her long legs crossed and looking so hot.
And she wanted to see my boner. Brenda wanted to see my boner!
I stood there frozen.
“Show me your boner. I want to see your hard boy meat.”
Brenda recrossed her legs. Slowly. I could see up her dress as she uncrossed her legs, but there was too much of a shadow to see anything. And that sound. The sound stockings make when they rub across themselves. That sound drove me crazy. I almost creamed in my pants.
“Show me your boner and I won’t have to tell your parents about what you have been doing. You’ve been a very bad boy. I don't want to have to tell your parents. Come on now, let’s see it.”
I hesitated a moment and opened my belt. What was I doing? I unsnapped the pants and pulled down the zipper. My boner was so hard. I pushed down my shorts and underpants and my boner sprang up and slapped against my stomach.
“Oh my! What a nice boner! Oh gawd, you are bigger than I expected. That’s a very nice boner!” Brenda’s voice sounded like she was out of breath. “Oh my! That looks very hard!”
My boner was twitching. I wanted to grab hold of it, but I just stood there.
Brenda licked her lips. “Play with it for me. I want to see how you play with your boner while you watch my legs.”
At that point, I didn’t need any further encouragement and didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my boner and started pumping it fast. This was incredible. The woman I had beat off so many times thinking about was sitting right in front of me and telling me to play with myself. This was great!
“Slow down. Not so fast. I want to watch you beat off that beauty.”
Brenda was running her hands up and down her legs, her nails making that sound as they ran over the nylon. The front of her skirt was now up around her waist and I could clearly see the garters as they held up her stockings. Damn. Slow or fast, I was going to explode any moment. I didn’t want to; somehow I still thought I was going to get in trouble. But I wanted to cream so much. I was so excited.
“Go ahead. Make your cream shoot out for me. Make your beautiful boner squirt.”
Brenda uncrossed her legs and spread her thighs wide open. Pussy! She wasn’t wearing panties and I was seeing my very first hairy pussy. Brenda’s pussy!
“Shoot all that beautiful yummy dick juice for me!”
I didn’t need to be told. A huge long stream of cum suddenly shot out toward Brenda and splattered on the floor. That was followed by another blast. And another.
“Yes! That’s it! Ohhhh yes, look at all that yummy cream! Shoot it all for me! Cum for me! Oh my … YESSSSS!”
More cream was now flowing out of my boner and over my hand. It felt like my entire body had come out through my dick. I had never shot so hard or so much.
I collapsed on one of the dining room chairs; every ounce of my strength had drained out through my dick and lay puddled all over the floor.
Brenda got up and went over to the sink and brought me a towel. She knelt down and started to clean up the floor with another towel. I suddenly was worried about the mess I had made on her floor and knelt down to help.
“Don’t worry about that. Clean yourself up and get dressed. You better get home before your parents miss you.”
I quickly zipped up and ran home without even saying good bye.
That night in bed, I beat off thinking about what I had seen. I had seen Brenda’s pussy and she had watched me beat off for her. I came so hard that sperm shot over my head and splattered against the headboard. Wow! Fifteen minutes later, I was back pounding my boner again.
But I was also scared to death. I was still worried that she would tell my parents. For several days, I alternated between beating off from youthful sexual excitement and worrying to death with fear that Brenda would tell my parents. Somehow, it never occurred to me that if she told my parents, she would get in even more trouble than I would. Every time the phone rang, I jumped with fear. But as the days passed and nothing happened, I relaxed. But my fear didn’t make me beat off any less often.
Stay tuned for more to cum …
Maddie
- 23.02.2020
- 8
- 0
