Home

One of the Boys

One of the Boys

Subscribe to Penthouse Letters Magazine Print Edition
Subscribe to Penthouse Letters Magazine Digital Edition

My college-age son, Sam, had plenty of friends. They were always traipsing through my house, eating our leftovers, ordering takeout and making noise.

It didn’t bother me. As a single woman, it was nice to have a pack of strong boys who I could get to help me out. Need something moved? The boys could do it. Yard raked? A pizza was plenty of pay. Someone to watch the house while I went on a girls’ vacation with my best friend? Well, Sam and the boys were there — no questions asked.

It was like having many able-bodied young sons at

my disposal and yet not having to house or feed them all full-time.

But I didn’t have a single maternal thought about Harry.

When he walked in, I stopped dead in my tracks. He was six-foot-six and hard to miss with the most adorable smile. It melted my heart — and heated up the rest of me.

Sam informed me that Harry was going to spend some of summer break with us because his parents were in Europe. He hadn’t wanted to go along, but he didn’t want to be alone for the whole stretch.

Sam knew my door was always open to his friends, and he’d assumed, correctly, that wouldn’t be a problem.

It wasn’t. But it was.

At dinner that first night, I did the usual small talk but couldn’t keep myself from surreptitiously checking out Harry. More than once, I thought I caught him doing the same and eyeing me. But I chalked that up to wishful thinking.

He was tall, but he was lean, too. Think more rock star than linebacker. His laugh was musical. His humor delightful.

When the boys informed me they were going out to a bar for a while, I bid them farewell, poured myself a glass of Cabernet and watched a movie. After that, I poured a refill and ran myself a hot bath.

My intention was to unwind. I’d had a long shift at work and the surprise of a handsome new guest, and I was ready to come down from a busy day.

Instead, I found myself totally turned on, thinking of Harry’s big hands, long legs, lovely smile and deep voice.

I climbed out of the bath and draped a towel around me. I went to my room, took a final swig of wine and found my vibrator. I turned it on, shut my eyes, conjured Harry’s face and ran the twitching head of the toy over my clitoris. Warmth flooded through me. Pleasure uncurled and settled in. My insides clenched, and my pussy quivered. My cunt was so wet thinking about his mouth on me, his tongue lapping at me, his strong hands grabbing my hips, his long cock sliding into me. Our age difference didn’t matter; my mind was only interested in one thing.

I jammed the vibrator inside my cunt and stroked my throbbing clitoris. I held my breath and let euphoria take over me. My body clenched, my insides spasmed, and I shivered.

I hadn’t been quiet; I’d thought I was alone. I hadn’t even heard the doorknob click, but I opened my eyes to see Harry standing there. My heart kicked, and my pussy trembled. I fumbled to sit up and pull the vibrator free.

All the while, his big brown eyes were on me. His face was flushed, and his cock was hard. I could see it clearly, even though he was dressed.

“Sorry,” he said, “I thought this was the guest room.” He licked his lips, ducked out and went away.

Well, that had been interesting.

The next night over meatloaf — Sam’s favorite — he announced a few guys he’d gone to high school with were meeting up at the local bar for trivia. He was as surprised as I was when Harry begged off.

“I have some work to do for next semester.”

Sam was flabbergasted and protested, “But we’re on summer break!”

“My scholarship doesn’t earn itself, my friend,” Harry said.

Something deep inside me tingled. Us. Here. Alone?

“Don’t give him trouble for being responsible,” I said, playfully poking my son with my fork.

Join To Read More...