With the medical crisis past, she could tend to humanitarian needs

It was an hour’s drive from the airport to the town where Peg, my best friend since first grade, and her husband Tim live. I’d caught the first flight after learning that they had been seriously injured in an accident.

By mid-afternoon, when I reached the hospital, they were both improved, in fact out of danger, but still in the ICU, and I was told that only immediate family members were allowed to visit. So I’d been waiting forever for further word when I saw their son Grant walking down the hall toward me. After we embraced, he said his parents faced a long recovery but were both out of danger.

As I hugged him, I said I wished I could see them, and he said his mom was asking for me and had told the nurse I was her sister. We wound up sitting with them the next three days. They’d each been so concerned about the other that their beds had been put side by side so they could see one another. When they were finally moved out of ICU, Grant and I were too tired to stay another night, and they urged us to go to the house and get some much-needed rest.

Grant said he would stop on the way and pick up meat for burgers and some buns. He gave me his keys, and I went ahead in my rental car. As soon as I got to the house I jumped in the shower. I’d been in my clothes for days and couldn’t remember a shower ever feeling so good! I blew my hair dry and put on a short terry-cloth robe that zipped up in front. It felt so good to be out of my clothes that I didn’t bother dressing. I hoped Grant would understand.

When he arrived, I prepared the burgers while he showered. He returned in gym shorts and a T-shirt, and we ate our light supper, then just stacked the dishes in the sink and retired to the living room, where I had a glass of wine while he drank soda. We watched something on the TV—I have no idea what—but I was nodding off even before finishing my wine, so I set the glass down and told Grant I had to go to bed. That was the last thing I remembered until I woke up about ten the next morning in bed—nude, with no idea how I got there!

On the way to the adjoining bathroom, still nude, I spotted my robe lying on the dresser neatly folded. I never fold anything when I go to bed. I just let things drop. I put two and two ­together and realized Grant must have put me to bed. I felt between my legs and was relieved to find my pubic hair soft and silky, with no sign of sexual activity. When I finished in the bathroom, I slipped on my robe and went down to find Grant reading the paper over a hot cup of coffee.

I said good morning, then poured myself some coffee and sat down across the table from him. He put the paper down and said, “There isn’t much in the paper, but there it is if you want to look.” He didn’t say anything about the previous evening, and I didn’t either.

We decided we’d get something to eat in the hospital cafeteria after checking in on his parents, so we got dressed and drove there. The patients were improving steadily. After four days, the last of the tubes had been removed from both of them. I was happy as well as ­relieved for my friends, and saw the stressful look disappear from Grant’s face.

We left the hospital early that day, and I suggested we treat ourselves to an ­actual meal—maybe grill some steaks and eat outside, since it was such a nice evening. Back at the house, I changed into shorts and a crop top, then made a salad while Grant cooked the steaks. After dinner we sat on the deck gazing at the stars. I drank a cocktail; Grant stuck to soda.

When we were attacked by mosquitoes we moved inside. On the way to the living room I mixed myself another cocktail. Relieved of all that stress, I found the drinks going down easily. Grant was a perfect host, making sure my glass wasn’t empty for more than a minute or so before he replenished it. A few times I caught him staring at my bust and adjusting his clearly erect cock.

I thought about that night when he must have put me to bed naked. I couldn’t stop thinking about it! My panties grew damp as my naughty mind imagined what must have gone through his head when he stripped me. Did it give him a hard-on, or was he simply disgusted by the sight of his mother’s ancient friend nude?

I had to get it off my chest. I asked how he had gotten me to bed that first night. He blushed and said, “I carried you up, intending to put you under the covers in your robe, but when I laid you down, you started fighting to get the robe off, so I helped you. But don’t worry, I didn’t look, and I covered you as fast as I could.”

The drinks I’d consumed must have had something to do with what I said next. The words were out of my mouth before I knew it.
“How naive do you think I am, Grant? I know more about 19-year-old boys than you think. I remember what they were like when I was your age. By then a boy’s brain has been in the head of his penis for at least five years, and it stays there for the rest of his life. So I really want to thank you for not taking advantage of me in the state I was in.”

“Ohmygod,” he cried, “I couldn’t do such a thing to you, or to any other woman. I was brought up to respect women. God, my mother would have my head if she learned I’d done anything like that! I will admit to looking at your beautiful body, and I won’t say that it didn’t affect me. I got the hardest hard-on I’ve ever had, and had to relieve it myself when I got to my room. I kind of hoped you wouldn’t figure out that I’d put you to bed.”

While I explained about the folded robe being a dead giveaway, I noticed Grant was squirming in his chair and asked if he had another erection. He nodded and said, “I’m sorry. It just does it by itself.” I said it was a perfectly natural reaction. I would only worry if he didn’t react that way.

For a few awkward moments nothing was said. On impulse I asked if he’d ever had sex. He turned beet red, and I thought for a moment he was going to bolt from the room. But he managed to say he was at a party one night where a girl took on anybody that came in the bedroom where she was laying naked in the dark. He took a turn with her, but it was all over in seconds. She laughed and called him “rab­bit.” Then he was involved with a girl who had the reputation of being easy. He took her out to a lovers’ lane a dozen times, and each time she just took her pants off and told him to get it done.

By then my panties were drenched from knowing there was a rock-solid cock an arm’s length away. Plus I hadn’t had sex in ten days. I said, “Would you like to practice with me? I’d be happy to give you a few pointers right after I make a trip to the bathroom.”

After relieving myself and washing my crotch quickly with a warm, soapy washcloth, I returned to find Grant still looking surprised, even shocked. Finally he managed to speak. “We couldn’t do that. You’re my mother’s friend, and you’re married.”

The cougar instinct took over. I slid over next to him and closed the space between us. I took his hand in mine and said, “That’s true, but we’re here alone, and nobody’ll ever know what happens. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with two people cuddling together while one helps the other learn about life’s pleasures.”

I turned his head and kissed him tenderly before he could react. When the kiss ended, he was breathing much deeper. I nuzzled his neck and nibbled on his ear, then poked my tongue in it. He got the hint and did the same to my neck and ears. We continued to neck like two teenagers parked in lovers’ lane for another 20 minutes, when Grant’s hand began inching its way up to my left breast. He cupped it gently and squeezed.

His tongue invaded my mouth. When I made no move to stop him, things progressed a lot quicker. He moved his hand under my top to explore my breasts and discovered how hard my nipples were. I slid my hand up his thigh and massaged his raging cock in his shorts until he moved my hand and said, “Stop, or I’ll come in my pants.”

Following my instinct, I freed his erection from his shorts, quickly lowered my head and took about half of it in my mouth. I sucked it, and within seconds was ­rewarded with thick spurts of come, which I swallowed quickly. I continued drinking every last drop and kept on sucking him until he finally became flaccid.

I left his limp dick hanging and kissed my way up his body until our lips met for a lingering kiss that left traces of semen smeared on both our faces. I drew back and looked in his eyes while licking my lips clean. He started to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand but suddenly licked his lips clean. Smiling from ear to ear, he said, “That was the most incredible thing that ever happened to me. I’ll be indebted to you forever.”

I nuzzled his neck and whispered, “You can repay that debt right now by just returning the favor—you know, go down on me. Go on, give it a try.”

I felt his hand shaking as it moved up my inner thigh until his fingers encountered the soft curls on my outer lips, then found the slippery folds of my aroused pussy. He didn’t grope my snatch like some young men but traced his fingertips back and forth over my lips with a feathery touch. Without rush­ing, I spread my legs to give him easier access. He continued to tease just the lips of my pussy until I guided his fingers to my clit. I whispered, “This is a woman’s most sensitive area, the nerve center of the vagina. Be careful when you touch it.” He soon had me writhing in climax in his arms.

When I could focus again, I saw that Grant was sniffing and licking his fingertips, and appeared to like what he found. He said,
“I think I’d like to try kissing you down there.” I said I’d love to have him go down on me, then drew my feet up on the sofa and spread my legs while he slipped to his knees in front of me. His eyes locked on my snatch.

I said, “It isn’t a very pretty sight, but I’ve never met a man that didn’t like it and want to get his cock inside.”

It was at least two minutes before he leaned forward and touched my lips with the tip of his tongue, then placed a quick kiss on my clit. He licked me lightly and gave my clit one more kiss to round out his first stab at eating pussy. Then he sat back and looked longingly at my pink gash. I said I’d enjoyed that very much, and asked if doing it had given him an erection.

He didn’t even look up, but said, “Right now it’s so hard, it hurts.”

I said, “Why don’t you put it in and fuck me, Grant?”

He said, “I can’t. I don’t have a condom.”

“Good boy,” I said, “but you don’t need one with me. I’m a big girl, and I love feeling a man come inside me.”

He moved forward and slid easily in me. As soon as he was all the way in, he exploded. I felt his cock throb for eight to ten seconds as he pumped away. Afterward, he sat back on the floor gasping for breath and looking once again at my cunt. I saw that his cock was still hard, and moved to sit astride him, taking him in my soupy snatch again. I pushed him down on the floor and rode him for about three minutes before milking another load out of him. Ah, young balls!

Twenty minutes later we were in his bed, where we fucked through the night, till half past ten the next morning! He had his cock in me almost continuously for about 12 hours! He was in love with my pussy and couldn’t keep his dirty hands off me.

After that night we fucked every chance we had. By the time I left, after Peg and Tim were released from the hospital, Grant was a confident lover. I felt no guilt at helping this uncertain young man learn how to pleasure a woman and receive pleasure himself. And neither his parents nor my husband ever suspected.—Name and address withheld