I celebrated my 50th birthday by going on a fishing trip with some of my friends. As I was leaving, my beautiful wife Terri gave me a passionate kiss and then whispered into my ear: “No jerking off on your trip, sweetie. I want you to save a week’s worth of come for a memorable birthday celebration when you get home.”
The fishing was fantastic, and I enjoyed the trip even more as I eagerly anticipated a special homecoming reunion with my wife.
When I arrived home, Terri told me to pack my bags for a weekend getaway at a bed and breakfast in a little resort town, where she had reserved a special room separate from the main house. We had stayed there before, and we loved the waterfront location and the easy access to the local bars and restaurants.
After we arrived and got settled in the room, Terri asked me to make a round of drinks. She then gave me a mischievous smile and asked me to show her which of our sex toys and supplies I had brought along for the weekend. I had chosen her two favorite vibrators, a couple of issues of Penthouse Letters and a few X-rated DVDs. When I showed them to her, my sexy wife gave me a wicked smile and said that was all fine and dandy, but she had brought some supplies of her own. She reached into her black leather bag and pulled out a shiny pair of handcuffs.
I’m a 22-year-old male who loves to wear pantyhose, stockings and panties. Not long ago I went to visit my mom’s best friend, Lucille, and her husband Fred. I hadn’t seen them in about three years, but I always had a crush on Lucille. She must be 50 now but has the body of a woman in her 30s. She’s five-five, 135 pounds, with wavy shoulder-length hair.
Lucille greeted me, then said she had to do errands and would be back later—I should make myself at home. I’m a panty-sniffer, so the second she was gone I began looking for any lingerie she may have worn. I found a pair of silky white panties in the hamper. Very sexy! I inhaled her pungent pussy smell. It was heaven.
I dropped my pants and was so involved stroking my cock that I didn’t hear Lucille come back in the house. As I breathed in through her worn panty crotch, I heard her clear her throat. Standing there, hands on hips, she said, “What are you doing?”
I was caught red-handed, her panties in one hand, my cock in the other. Just about fainting, I said I couldn’t help myself, and I always had a crush on her. She just smiled and went back downstairs. I hastily pulled up my jeans and followed her. Yes, it was awkward, but I felt a rush. Lucille said she had to go out again but would return soon. As she went through the kitchen, she called back to me that our little “incident” would be our secret.
One Saturday morning about a year ago, my live-in girlfriend asked me to stop by her parents’ house to return a saucepan and some other stuff her mother had lent her. When I got there, no one was home. So I got the key from under the mat and let myself in.
As I set all the stuff on the counter in the kitchen, I accidentally knocked over a vase of flowers, spilling some of the water. I used a kitchen towel to wipe it up, then took the towel to the laundry room. When I lifted the hamper lid to deposit it, I noticed a pair of stockings, along with a pair of panties and a lace brassiere. A strange thrill shot through me, and I began checking the items out more closely. They smelled of perfume, and the crotch of the panties had a definite aroma of musky pussy.
I knew the things could only belong to Eileen, my girlfriend’s mother, and as I thought about her wearing them, my cock began to twitch in my pants. I found myself fondling the panties and bra while I visualized how Eileen would look in those items, and I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to see more of her intimate apparel. It was almost without conscious thought that I found myself going up to her bedroom.
Once there, I searched through some of the drawers and quickly discovered that Eileen had a whole collection of sexy panties and bras. One bra was so low-cut that I was sure her large dark nipples would be on display when she wore it.
Suddenly I heard a car pull up, so I quickly stuffed all the things back in the drawer and darted back downstairs. Eileen met me in the kitchen, and I quickly explained what I was doing there. I must have still been a bit flushed, because she asked me if I was okay. I told her I was, but I couldn’t help letting my eyes wander to her tits, wondering what they looked like squeezed into that bra.
My son’s babysitter is an 18-year-old senior in high school, 5-foot-6, thin, curvy, with blue eyes and long golden blonde hair. But she’s not the one this story is about. She’s been our baby sitter for two years, so instead of viewing her as sexy, I still see her as the cute kid who babysits.
Her mom, Alice, on the other hand is a knockout. Same height as her daughter, a tad bit heavier, but with nice curves, fine ass, great looking 36C breasts, short blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Our families are friendly and she has a great personality. One time she jokingly introduced me to her husband as her boyfriend. In front of my wife, I jokingly called her my sugar momma. However our friendship went to a whole new level recently.
Alice had joined my wife Kara and I for lunch one day . We usually greet eachother with hugs and I told her she looked like she could use one today and her hug felt a little closer and a little longer than usual.She was a little upset as she told us about her rough morning and how she can’t stand her new co-worker. Then she dropped a bombshell on us and said “Kara, I feel really guilty about asking this. But would it be possible if I borrowed Gary for an hour or two?”
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I got myself a job when I got out of college, but it didn’t give me a real sense of fulfillment, so I decided to volunteer for the Big Brothers program. After some training I got paired up with Nick, an 11-year-old boy who lived with his single mother. I look Nick fishing, to the park, and on other activities.
I would usually meet him at the local YMCA and drop him off outside his house afterwards, so I didn’t get to meet Mia, his mom, for at least two months after joining the program. When I finally did meet her she turned out to be a fairly attractive woman in her 30s. She was nice but not very outgoing; in fact, she seemed shy and a little mousy.
One day when I took Nick home, Mia was sitting on the porch. She invited me in for coffee, and I accepted. Nick went next door to his friend’s house, and Mia and I sat in the living room. Mia was wearing a denim skirt and a white blouse with some sort of floral print. She told me that Nick really looked up to me, and that she really appreciated having me in his life, especially since his father had picked up and left when he was six.
My son plays on his college hockey team, and I attend every game. This year they’ve had a great season and were on the verge of making the playoffs with a possible clinching game coming up, but it was an away game a good distance from home, and to make matters worse a huge snowstorm was forecast, predicted to blanket the area that very day. Had it been any other game I’d have skipped it, but I was determined to be there to watch our boys make the playoffs, so I took a half-day at work and left early to ensure I’d be there.
It turned out to be a good idea, since the snowstorm hit earlier than predicted and was even worse than had been forecast. The team bus barely made it to the rink, and my husband called to say that the way conditions were, there was no way he’d be able to make it. I wound up being one of only a few parents present to cheer the team on as they won, 4–2!
After the game the roads were impassable. Luckily, there was a hotel across from the rink, and both me and the team managed to get rooms. I went to see my son to congratulate him, but he was obviously embarrassed at having his mother hanging around while he wanted to celebrate with his roommates, so I wished the boys good night and headed to my room.
Thanks to the recession my husband lost his high-paying job. He landed a job, but it involved a big pay cut and way more hours—and we’d just bought a house and our youngest had just started college. There was no choice but for me to go back to work for the first time in 20 years. And since I’d only held menial jobs like waitressing, even with my income things looked grim.
One afternoon I was bemoaning my situation to my friend Rita. When I finished, she looked me over carefully, then said she knew what I meant about needing extra cash and in fact had taken a part-time job herself, one that was quite lucrative. She said there might be openings if I was interested.
I asked what the job was. She stunned me by saying she worked as an escort! I couldn’t believe it, especially since Rita was married, like me. I stammered that I couldn’t be some kind of prostitute. She said the business was very professional, with none of the girls doing anything they didn’t want to. If all I wanted was to be eye candy on the arm of an out-of-town businessman at a charity event, that was fine. Then she told me the going rate for one night, and I was shocked. It was a lot more than I’d make as a waitress at some bar.
I’ve been best friends with Dan for going on 40 years, since we lived next door as kids. We’ve always done everything together, including vacations. It just seemed natural to continue that after we got married. First we took our wives, and then our children. It has always been a fun time.
This year we rented a house at the beach. My sons Rich (20) and Jason (19) had an unexpected reason for really looking forward to it. They confided to me that during our last group trip they both fucked Dan’s daughter Chrissy (also 19). I had no problems with it, but had no idea how Dan would feel, so I told them to keep it quiet.
There were unexpected complications, though. My wife had a problem at work that made her miss the trip. And on arriving at the house we learned that Chrissy had stayed home to spend time with a new boyfriend!
Before our neighbors Ruth and Larry left on their dream ten-week train trip through Europe, I went to their apartment next door to offer to drive them to the airport. As it turned out, they’d arranged for that, but Ruth said there was a favor I could do her.
When I said was happy to do anything to help, she said it was simple, really. Their son Louis (he’s 19) had gotten a job that would keep him away from home from Monday until Friday evening, so she’d love me to keep an eye on the place for her. Oh, and if I wouldn’t mind watering her violets—this way Louis couldn’t drown them.
The first week, everything was quiet. Friday evening I ran into Louis at the mailboxes. He said the job was okay but his boss was a jerk and gave him all the nasty work. I told him to do it without complaint and prove himself worthy of doing better things. He grinned and said I sounded just like his dad.
The next Wednesday when I got home from work I went next door to water and heard the TV on in the den. Thinking Louis had left it on on Monday, I headed across the plush carpet to shut it off, but at the door to the den froze in my tracks.
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.
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