John–the typical 18 year old nobody, the oldest kid in the senior class, and therefore the oldest virgin, the guy more afraid of girls than of death itself–was crossing into new territory. He was staking out a girl’s house.
Or, more accurately, he was stalking, though he couldn’t be sure if it could be considered stalking yet if this was his first time doing it. And the target wasn’t a girl. It was a 39 year old woman.
And technically, she might have indirectly invited him to do this…but that’s a long story. He had Molly’s address, and that was the important part.
Molly was a strikingly sexy mail carrier, and John lived on her route. One day she had caught him jerking off to a magazine through the front picture window, and she proceeded to smile and watch him through the dark sunglasses she always wore as he finished.
It marked a significant advancement for John’s sex life, or lack thereof. His dick was big, but he lacked the confidence to get far enough with a girl to use this gift. His inexperience with all things sexual only made things worse—he was actually afraid to use his dick because he doubted his ability to use it. And if a guy with such a generous endowment couldn’t be good in bed, than he was an even bigger loser than at first glance.
At least that’s how John felt. And it was why he was comfortable enough—though barely enough—to jerk off in front of this stranger, this woman, this hot-blooded, big-breasted, wonderfully curvy older woman—because it wasn’t going to go any further than that. But when she came back and let him do it again, this time showing him her glorious bare breasts and letting him shoot a load of sperm all over them, John fell hard.
It wasn’t love, but lust. And it was quickly becoming an obsession. Years of release that came only from magazines, videos, and the internet via his own hand could do nothing to prepare him for the taste of real sex he was getting increasingly closer to. The normally mild-mannered student was going out of his mind and prepared to do things he never would have considered just two weeks ago.
Tonight was Halloween, and John had come to Molly’s house, knowing he could brush his presence off as a coincidence because of the holiday festivities if Molly saw him. Molly had been purposely ambiguous about their unusual relationship, as she neither ended it, nor did she give an indication that it would continue. John was sure she liked having control of how things went, with her being the experienced, responsible adult and all. But when John got a hold of her address, the fuck if he was going to pass up the opportunity to use it.
He staked out the house, but he had no intention of going up to the front door where Molly was handing out candies to kids in costume. He had a much bolder plan. Silently, stealthily, with his sister’s digital camera in tow, John snuck into Molly’s back yard, identified her bedroom window, and waited.
The night was cold, but John had dressed too warm, and he actually fell asleep. He awoke with a surge of fear, but when he remembered Molly’s back yard was protected and private with thick hedges lining the perimeter instead of a plain, chain-link fence, he calmed down. Besides, when he looked at his watch, it was well past the time for the Halloween festivities to have ended. The streets would be empty, and the porch lights would be off. Unless someone was actually back there with him, here, in the dark, he was invisible.
But it wasn’t as dark as it used to be. A light came on in Molly’s house—the bedroom light. John jumped to his feet and scrambled to the window. The Venetian blinds were down, but not drawn all the way. He could see inside as he got closer, and he discovered two astounding things: One, that Molly was married. Her husband was there with her, laying on the middle of the bed with his clothes on, his forearm over his eyes to shield them from the light. He looked like John’s dad did after a long, hard day.
In his lack of experience on the dating scene, John never even thought to look for a wedding band on Molly’s finger. He wondered if marriage was the only thing keeping Molly and him at a distance. Maybe she wanted him desperately, but breaking a vow was just a tad too much. John hoped it was true, and he got hard thinking about how she might so badly desire him. Maybe she even thought about him while performing the more physical duties of a wife. But the presence of the husband still frightened John. He nearly left.
It was the second thing he discovered that kept him on track. Molly had always been the mail carrier to John. She always wore a uniform, and while he’d been blessed with the sight of her huge, soft, natural breasts with their long nipples and defined tan lines just days ago, John had yet to see her eyes. But it was night, and Molly was wearing neither her uniform, nor her sunglasses. In fact, in just a pair of white bedtime short-shorts with red trim, knee-high white socks with two red stripes, and a white t-shirt, she was almost wearing nothing Ankara escort at all.
The sight of this beauty wearing so little was almost enough to kill John with over stimulation. She was standing at her closet, putting clothes away, and a generous portion of her perfectly aged ass peeked from under those short-shorts. Molly wore shorts often on her route, so John had seen her legs before, but now they looked longer, stronger, and smoother in the soft bedroom light. When she turned to pick up a new garment to hang or fold, John could see Molly’s big breasts–so firm for someone of almost forty, but sagging enough to be undeniably real—stretching out the chest of the t-shirt so far that the bottom on the shirt hung away from and exposed her soft, only slightly swelled tummy.
He put the camera up to the window and turned it on. John stiffening at the whirring noise it made upon startup, but those through the window gave no indication of having heard it. The image of Molly standing there came into the viewfinder.
John almost pushed the button when Molly turned his way. It was a casual movement—he knew he wasn’t caught—but the full-on sight her eyes, of which he’d never before seen, caught him off guard. Even looking through the viewfinder of the camera, John could tell Molly had the most beautiful brown eyes, with big, dark lashes, and a very subtle and very unexpected exotic quality to them. Those eyes made her look like a whole new person, and even sexier than before. She looked younger, and her face seemed to shine from the glow the eyes radiated. She wasn’t just sexy—she was breathtaking.
She looked back to the closet, but John was still in a trance, and he stayed that way, just watching her, his eyes glazed over, until she moved away from the closet entirely and approached the bed. She was saying something to her husband, and he said something back, but the window itself was closed, and John could only guess what they were saying. He slowly, unconsciously lowered the camera and watched through the glass with his own eyes as Molly crawled onto the foot of the bed on all fours, exaggerating her movements, prowling like a big cat. She was talking the whole time, and it looked like she was drawing out her words.
Still on her hands and knees on the mattress, Molly arched her back, thrusting out her chest so her husband could better see down the neck of her t-shirt, and raising her scantily-covered ass. But the husband kept his arm over his eyes, talking back to Molly casually and as if not in the mood. John couldn’t believe it. He was sporting a raging hard-on just watching this, but the dumb ass husband was actually ignoring her!!
Well, he wasn’t ignoring her for long. Suddenly the bland expression on what John could see of Molly’s husband’s face turned into a grin, and the guy laughed, and Molly laughed with him as she bent down toward his crotch. The husband took his arm away from his face and looked down just in time to see Molly lower herself onto her elbows, freeing her hands to undo his belt and pants. To John’s amazement, she peeled the material of his khakis away, revealing the fabric of his boxers shorts and a significant bulge beneath.
John could have felt hurt or jealous by this display, but all he wanted was to see more. He knew the very nature of he and Molly’s relationship was so weakly supported that watching her with another guy might be the farthest he’d get. Of course, he was also about as horny as he’d ever been in his life. He dared to rub himself through his pants.
Before unleashing the beast that waited beneath her husband’s underwear, Molly reached to a nightstand and grabbed an elastic band. She pulled back her long, blonde hair and tied it with the band, holding it in place so it would no longer interfere with what was about to happen. It also gave John an unencumbered view of her face.
The husband’s dick popped out so suddenly, John didn’t even see it emerge. It was just there, pointing up towards the husband’s own chest, baring its underside to Molly’s face. She looked at it and smiled big, then stuck out a long tongue and licked the underside from the base up to the tip.
John shuddered as if she had just licked him that way, and he moved his hand from his crotch for fear of cumming.
Molly licked her husband’s penis again and again, now with short, teasing strokes of her tongue. She flicked the tip of her tongue across his big, round head, then followed this with a few broad strokes of her full tongue on him there. Below, she grabbed his shaft with her hand and gently stroked it. Above, her husband wasn’t rolling his head with his eyes closed like John had seen in many porn videos, but instead he looked down at his wife and watched with eager eyes, eyes that grew wider when Molly opened her mouth, then closed her lips around him.
John nearly creamed himself as he saw Molly put the first couple inches of her husband’s dick into her mouth. It wasn’t as big overall as his, John was happy to observe, but it was thicker and Molly Ankara escort bayan had to open her mouth wide to get him inside her. She sucked it like a lollipop, her lips fat and loose around him instead of pulled in tight. A couple times she popped off of him, and from the look of it, if John had been in the room he would have heard a loud, wet smacking sound.
Molly gradually sunk herself deeper onto the cock, going down fast, then pulling back up very slowly, her lips now tight against him, squeezing him, pulling his taut flesh. When she reached the tip, John saw her tongue moving behind her cheeks, and then she spit on the cock, drenching it with her saliva before bobbing back down on him, this time faster.
Her husband still watched, his mouth open as he was no doubt gasping, which was further indicated by his chest moving up and down rapidly. He put his hands in Molly’s thick hair and gently grasped her head, maybe guiding her or maybe just holding on—John wasn’t sure. But it seemed to excite Molly to no end, because she increased her sucking pace ten-fold, and John even saw her reach down between her own legs and touch herself through her shorts.
Molly’s husband suddenly tried to sit up, but he immediately fell back down, pushing himself hard back into the mattress and thrusting his hips into his wife’s face. She took everything he gave her, allowing him to go so deep that, to John’s amazement, the entire thick cock disappeared past her lips on several strokes. Then came one final, powerful thrust from the hips, and the husband let out a groan that John could have heard even if the window had been made with soundproof glass. It was so loud, John jumped and nearly ran off for fear that neighbors might come to investigate.
But John was too horny to leave prematurely. He kept his eyes on Molly as she sucked the cock rapidly while her husband was no doubt emptying himself into her. John felt an added thrill when he saw her throat moving, indicating that she was swallowing a massive load.
The husband eventually calmed down, laying his head back and closing his eyes in post-orgasmic bliss, but even as he softened, Molly lay at his side, her face at his groin, lapping the thick film of cum off his dick.
John was already feeling sorry for her. If her husband had any intention of continuing this session by returning the favor, he didn’t show it. He just laid there, and eventually John knew the guy had fallen asleep. Strangely, Molly didn’t appear saddened by this, and even gave her sleeping hubby a big smile before giving his flaccid penis one last big kiss.
Seconds became minutes as John wondered what would happen next. It seemed the night’s festivities were over for good, but he wasn’t going to leave without being 100 percent about it.
Sure enough, Molly eventually sat up on the bed and looked around at nothing in particular. John could tell she was still excited by the way her 2-inch nipples made 2-inch lumps from beneath her t-shirt. And then, almost absent-mindedly, Molly reached to her crotch again, this time going beneath her short shorts, and touched herself.
Perhaps he was jumping the gun, John thought, but he could risk it. Molly might very well touch herself, then turn out the lights and go to bed without doing anything more, without undressing, without inadvertently posing. And John wasn’t confident he’d find the nerve to pull a stakeout like this again. So he quickly pulled up the camera and snapped a photo.
Of course, the flash was on.
John thought about it even as he pressed the button, and he thought he had let go in time, but the picture was taken and the flash went off, blinding and obvious and now the object that would get him sent to jail, keep him out of a good college, and ensure that he would work as a security guard at Burger King for the rest of his life. He was doomed, and he didn’t need to see Molly become startled, shoot a look at the window, and then dash out of the room to know she knew someone was spying on her. He didn’t need to see it, but he did.
John got up to run, but he knocked into a lawn chair he didn’t even know was there, and it knocked the camera out of his shaking hands. He might have left it if it was his own, but this was his sister’s digital camera, and he had no idea if there were photos of her or him or his parents—or some way to connect him to it—still on the memory card. He needed that fucking camera.
He scrambled, terrified, in the dark. The light bleeding outside through the bedroom shades shined on all the wrong places. He felt through the grass, hit his head on the lawn chair, then heard a door from the side of the house open and footsteps on the pavement, coming his way. Fuck it. He got up and ran for the hedge. The footsteps were no longer on the pavement, which meant they were on grass—she’d advanced to the backyard, and he had no idea how close she was—
Molly hit him hard, but she didn’t bring him down. Instead, the force of the collision knocked John forward faster, Escort Ankara and he lost his balance and hit the hedge at a particularly thick section, restricting him from disappearing through it. Molly kept a hand on his jacket as her own momentum pushed her up against him, and for a second they were together, his back to her, her arms around him, as close as they’d been since he fucked her tits and sprayed them with his cum.
He didn’t try to fight her off of him, not because he was getting off on it, but because he was caught, whether he broke free or not. She knew. If not now, she’d figure it out later. And the camera would be physical evidence.
“What are you doing here?” Molly exclaimed in a whisper. “Are you crazy?”
She turned him around to face her, but he held his head low, both to hide his identity and because of shame.
“Look at me!” she said, sounding more afraid than angry, John was happy to notice, though the anger was there. “I know it’s you. There’s no point in hiding.”
She put her hand to his chin and lifted his face up so that their eyes met. She looked as frightened as he felt. John tried to stammer out an apology, but she cut him off.
“Do you know how much trouble we could get in? If someone caught you, you could get arrested!”
“And I…” she paused, shook her head as if disappointed in herself more than John. “I’m married…”
“I didn’t know…until…”
Molly nodded and sighed. “I know. I should’ve told you.” Then, to herself. “God, I never should have done anything in the first place. I’m fucking crazy. I’ve got to be crazy.” Back to John. “You’re a kid—ok, not a kid. Sorry. But you’re, what? 18, 19 years old? I’m twice your age!”
She let that sink in as the two of them stood together in the silence of the night.
“I’m sorry,” she said, still whispering. “I never should have led you on. It wasn’t fair of me to…I think I took advantage of you, and I thought you might….I don’t know. I’m just sorry. This has gotten out of hand. I’m sorry for calling you a kid. You’re not a kid. But you’re not…you’re not like me.”
John should have taken what little dignity he had left and used this moment to just leave and end the whole thing, but that was the complete opposite of what he wanted. Seeing Molly talk to him this way, so apologetic and concerned didn’t make him hate or regret her. He felt sorry for her, because he knew what she wasn’t admitting to herself—she had made a conscious decision to come back and see him a second time, even planned out a whole thing so she could bare her breasts for him. And when he came, she hugged him into those tits, let his cum touch her. She allowed this, which meant she wanted this, too.
But Molly was at the disadvantage of being married and “the responsible adult”, of which John was neither. And in John’s boldest moment of his life, he pointed this out.
“You came back.”
“I shouldn’t have.”
“But you did.”
Molly stood there, saying nothing, but waiting for the words to come. God, she was beautiful. Even with so little light to reveal her, John knew she was here in practically her socks and underwear, and he could see the glow of her white skin. John was aware of his erection growing, and even more aware of Molly looking down and seeing it through the darkness. And there was no sign of disgust in her reaction. Just curiosity, and maybe amazement. Maybe hunger.
John saw it, and when Molly looked up to him, she knew that he saw it. Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t cry. Her full lips parted.
She moved her face towards his slowly at first, but then something snapped inside her and Molly dove for John, and he for her, and their faces locked together. John had never kissed a girl before, but he got the mechanics down pretty quick by following Molly’s lead. She was soft and warm and she tasted musky, which was strange until John realized he was tasting the very trace remnants of her husband’s cum, which had just minutes ago been shooting across her tongue and down her throat. But he didn’t care. The idea that she could disregard her husband so quickly for him was both thrilling and flattering to him. So what if she tasted like cock? Soon, hopefully, she would taste like his.
They hugged and rubbed their hands all over each other, though John waited to feel Molly’s hands on his ass before he put his on her tight buns. And when he did his fingers melted into the soft, round cheeks as if they were butter. He gripped her tight, his fingertips clawing into the crack of her short shorts, then sneaking down and directly touching the flesh of her ass peaking out the bottom.
Molly kissed and licked the side of his face, panting, then moved back to his ear, sucked on the lobe, put her whole tongue in his ear and swirled it around. She raised her thigh and put it against his hip, using it to pull John’s groin closer to hers. She squeezed his ass through his pants, then pulled her hands up and back down again, this time sliding between his pants, inside, and touching her soft, cool fingers to the skin of his butt. John had imagined and fantasized about all of these things, but he never knew how they’d feel, and certainly didn’t expect them to feel this good.