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Jasons and the Johnsons

By: Charles Petersunn



Based on the feedback I've received, I no longer am keeping the stories within The Lessons series. This is helpful in one respect, as it allows me to veer away even farther from The Lessons context and Templeton setting. The primary theme of this story is first time, but it also includes a "mature" (May/December ) titillation. All of the characters are above the age of 18. I do hope you like it.

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Jason and Bridget had been dating for quite some time. They began dating when they were freshmen at college. They would go out for dinner, see a movie, and would even stop to park in secluded places. Bridget liked in particular to go to the park where they could sit in front of the lake and hear the loons. The parking was quite a bit of fun for both of them. There was a considerable amount of necking, and even a bit of feeling, at least "upstairs." She wouldn't let him go much further. As she would tell him, "Hands at 10 o'clock and 2 o'clock are fine, but 6PM is off limits." She was a good girl who was raised the right way.

Her father, Jim Johnson, had made sure of that. He was a strict disciplinarian. The three Johnson girls were all sweet, well behaved, good girls. They had always been obedient and responsive to their teachers. They never got into trouble. They were model students. They invariably got good citizenship grades when they were growing up, with even special notes from their teachers exclaiming what a delight they were in class. Bridget even spent a considerable amount of her spare time doing good work. She was currently taking the responsibility for providing a "meals on wheels" for Mrs. Branson, who lived down the street.

The sisters' good behavior generalized to their personal lives. Mr. Johnson knew what boys wanted, and he did not want his girls to fall prey to the lustful exploits of some adolescent male. His wife, Madeline, did not object to the tight reign Jim placed on the girls. She appreciated that Jim only had their best interests in mind. It was good to have a father who was so protective of their daughters' welfare. She certainly supported his caution when the girls were under age, and was not opposed to him continuing to watch over Bridget, even though she was legally an adult. She was shocked at what she heard teenagers were doing these days. As she would say, "My goodness, when I was that age I hadn't heard of things like that."

It wasn't that Mrs. Johnson would not have had any opportunities as a girl. She was a very striking woman and had been a very pretty girl. She had long wavy blonde hair, pretty green eyes, rosy cheeks, sweet red lips, long shapely legs, and very, very full breasts. They were often hidden by an apron or a matronly dress but she did not need to dress provocatively to be noticed. Those breasts accompanied by that engaging smile were so very hard to ignore.

Jason and Bridget were old enough to do what they wanted. They were both 19 years old. However, Bridget would not want to disappoint her parents. She had always valued their sage advice, and her father and mother made it real clear to her that they would prefer that she remain a good girl until she got married, just as they had done.

Bridget, however, was probably going much farther with Jason than her parents would have preferred. When Jason and Bridget were having a particularly passionate night of kissing, she would let him feel her breasts, at least through a blouse or sweater. She enjoyed the feel of his rough, masculine hands exploring, fondling, manipulating, and even squeezing her boobs. She could feel her nipples stiffen, and even getting very warm, wet, in her panties. He would at times try to touch her down there, but she would always stop him. She wasn't about to go that far.

There was one time though that she did let him reach under her blouse and feel her breasts through her bra. Jason enjoyed that a great deal. Who wouldn't? He had never felt a girl's bra before. It was so intimate, so sexual, so raw to be touching her right on the bra, to actually be touching her underwear, the stuff under her clothes that nobody was even allowed to see. He was very grateful, even honored, to be allowed to go that far. He would try to push his luck further, but he didn't really complain when she stopped him.

He did though spend quite a bit of time once he got there; feeling her soft, tender, pliant boobies through the thin cotton of her brassiere. With just her bra in between his hand and her breast he got a real good feel of her nipples. He rubbed, tweaked, and even pinched them. They got real stiff. He would have liked a lot to be able to reach down inside her bra and touch her nipples for real, but, still, there really wasn't much left between his fingers and their stiffness. He was getting a lot of good memories to serve him well when he got home that evening.

In contrast, Mr. and Mrs. Johnsons' sex life might even be described as nonexistent. Madeline, like her husband, did not approve of "premarital nonsense." They had waited until they were married, and even then the sex was often more functional than playful. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy it. It was a tender, warm time with her husband. She would even occasionally think that she was probably having an orgasm, although she felt rather self-conscious about that, even a bit ashamed. When she was getting close to a climax, or at least in the mood to allow herself to get close, she would pull Jim down against her so that she could bury her face in his chest. She didn't want him to see the excitement in her face.

Jim would always have an orgasm when they had sex. At least, she assumed that he did. His orgasm was the signal for them to stop, clean up, and go to sleep. She couldn't always tell for certain that he had "orgasmed," as he preferred to wear a condom. He didn't actually have to wear a condom as Mrs. Johnson was herself using birth control He thought it was best though to be extra careful. Actually, the real reason was that he didn't like the mess his sperm made in the bed, as well as just the dirtiness of it all. He would admit that the sexual contact was more stimulating when they were trying to have a child (i.e., when he would wear no condom) but he would then also spend extra time in the bathroom to clean himself off. He even used Lava soap for that. 

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson probably wouldn't mind Jason and Bridget kissing. They were not so rigid or conservative to oppose that. As Mrs. Johnson said, "wooing and cooing" is an important part of courtship. But, Jason and Bridget were now even French kissing. Bridget loved to French kiss. It was a way to have kissing be as close to real sex as possible. It was like she was being penetrated by Jason, if only orally.

Mrs. Johnson had been careful to take the time to explain all about sex to their children when they reached puberty. It had not been an uncomfortable or difficult talk with Bridget's older sister, Marissa. Marissa didn't actually seem that interested in it herself. However, it was different with Bridget. Bridget had all sorts of questions. She seemed inordinately curious about it, which only made her mother all the more concerned, as well as supportive of her husband's rules and regulations.

Bridget was certainly very curious about Jason's "thing." She had never in fact ever touched him there. Even in their heaviest necking she would keep her hands above deck, just as his had to be. She would feel his arm muscles, his chest (always through his shirt), and she would lightly caress his ear, cheek, or neck, but she kept her hands upstairs. That didn't mean though that she wasn't actually interested. She did wonder how it would feel; how it would feel to have a guy's erect penis in her hand. She had looked a lot of them up on the internet, and it was frankly surprising. They looked awfully big; scary, but still exciting.

She got caught one time doing that though, and boy did she get into trouble. Her mother was simply appalled. They did not have the internet when she was a girl. There was no way for good girls to be exposed to pictures like that, unless they went down to the drug store or, worse yet, the gas station on the north end of town that sold the really dirty stuff in an adult section toward the back of the store. No good girl would even go into that store. When Madeline told Jim, Bridget got quite a spanking. 

But, that didn't actually stop her from looking. She knew it was wrong, but it was like there was a magnet that kept pulling her there. When she would visit Marissa, her best friend, they would use her computer to search the internet for good pictures. Some of the things they found just looked silly, but she would often feel pretty warm and confused by the time she was ready to return home.

She could also tell that Jason was getting excited like she saw on the internet when they were necking. She would steal glances down there. She could tell he was getting all hard as it would push out his pants.

And, she knew that he wanted her to touch it. He would at times position his body in a way that made it real obvious that it was there, like he was trying to show it off, like he was just waiting for her to grab it. She wouldn't let herself do it though. She knew she shouldn't. He would at times even take her hand and try to move it to his lap. But, she always pulled back. She just wasn't ready.

Although her parents were not having sex any longer, Mrs. Johnson would at times see her husband with an erection, but this was just early in the morning while he was still asleep. She wondered what he must be dreaming to have such an erection like that, but, then, she really didn't want to know. She figured that it must be some awfully dirty thought from deep in his subconscious, where it probably should stay. She would herself at times have some pretty filthy dreams. There was one time that she had a dream that she was attacked by Mr. Peters, a neighbor of theirs. He had come over to borrow a gardening tool. She had to reach down into the garden chest to get it, and this caused her short, skimpy summer skirt to lift up well over her bottom. In her dream she wasn't wearing any panties. She would never do that in real life, but somehow dreams just put you in the strangest of places. In any case, as she was reaching way down into the chest, she felt his hard, stiff penis thrust into her vagina. She was, of course, shocked; even scared, in her dream. She tried to yell but no sound would come out. It was as if she could no longer say anything, let alone scream. In the dream, she thought perhaps she was so frightened that she had lost her voice. In any case, he just keep pounding away at her; in and out; thrusting his hard penis in and out. And, it was so big; so very much bigger than Jim's. Suddenly, she could feel herself getting aroused, getting excited. She could feel her vagina getting all soft and wet, her breathing becoming faster and deeper. And, then, her voice returned. But, rather than scream for help, she found herself saying, almost against her will, "yes, please, do it Mr. Peters, faster, harder, oh my, I need this so bad." She could even feel herself getting close to an orgasm, but, just before it seemed that it would happen she woke up. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but she felt that it was mostly good that she woke up. It was bad that she had gotten so excited. My goodness. Sex with Jack Peters? What a terrible thing to do. Even to think about it was bad. She felt down between her legs. She was even wet. She felt terrible to actually have a sex dream like that. She went downstairs to the kitchen to have some cold milk. She needed something to calm herself down.

Bridget did feel bad for Jason when she noticed that he had an erection. She knew that he must at times be getting awfully frustrated, and she wanted him to be happy. She wanted to be the one to make him happy. She even noticed that he would at times try to secretly touch himself while they were kissing. He wouldn't do it for long. It was clear that he didn't want her to see him playing with himself. She wondered if she should just tell him that it was okay with her if he did play with himself while they kissed, but she didn't want to embarrass him. It wouldn't though be like having real sex if he did do that. She wouldn't have to touch it. But, still, as her father said, "Once you cross one line, you've entered the other realm. You might as well not come back. A good girl crosses no lines."

Mrs. Johnson did one time, just one time, play with Jim's' penis when he had an early morning erection. It was after one of her own dirty dreams. She woke up to feel his hard penis sticking against her bottom. She wondered if that was why she had the dream. She would usually just move away from it when it bumped her in the night, but, perhaps because of her dream, she lifted up the blanket and sheet to look at it. It was a warm summer evening, so they weren't using more than one thin blanket.

It was even poking out through the fly of his pajama bottoms. It looked it little scary, a little threatening. But, it didn't seem right to have it sticking out like that. Maybe she should get it back inside? And, besides, it had been so long since she had touched one. She reached down to take it in her hand. She sighed as soon as her hand made contact. It felt so smooth, so hard, so strong.

She slowly, ever so slowly and carefully, slid her hand up and down the shaft. She would usually touch him when they used to have sex, but it was generally to help direct him to her vagina. This time was different. This time she was touching him for herself.

She couldn't believe that she was doing this. She even considered placing her mouth on it. Maybe for just a second? Jim wouldn't ever need to know about it. If he woke up while she was doing it though she would never live it down. He would be shocked and appalled. Oral sex clearly bore no relationship with the purpose of sex: creating offspring. He would never put his lips on a woman's vagina (just the thought seemed almost as disgusting as those homosexual activities) and he certainly wouldn't then demean a woman in the same manner. If he woke up to see Madeline with her mouth on his penis, he would be horrified at her perversity. The thought crossed Madeline's mind that perhaps she now deserved a spanking herself, and that reminded her of another dream she once had, where Mr. Peters was spanking her in a classroom for being a bad mother. She had completely forgotten about that dream. That was perhaps one of the oddest of dreams. She recalled this dream as she fondled, felt, and stroked her husband's erection.

She had to come see Mr. Peters on Parents' Day, and he was giving her a very stern lecture about how much trouble Patty was causing in class. That was itself odd, as it made no sense. Patty, who was Bridget's younger sister, was still in high school and Mr. Peters was a college professor and, besides, Patty would never cause any trouble in class. In any case, Mr. Peters explained that it was now a policy of the high school that a parent was to be punished for the misbehavior of their children. Mrs. Johnson did want to be a good mother. How could she expect her daughters to obey the teachers if she wouldn't do so herself?

So, she submitted. He told her to lean down onto the desk, resting her face right on the top of the desk, and then raise up her bottom as far as it would go. She felt very embarrassed doing this, but strangely excited to do something like that. She had never done it that way with her husband. That would be an awfully dirty, even animalistic way, to have sex. It would be like she was presenting herself like a dog, and now she was doing this for Mr. Peters. It felt even more sexual as he raised up her skirt. She wasn't expecting that.

And, she was again not wearing any panties. She felt mortified. Mr. Peters could see her bare bottom and probably a lot more. He also scolded her for not wearing any panties. "What kind of a role model are you? I can now understand why Patty is such a bad girl."

"But, Mr. Peters, I was in such a hurry to get to school on time. I didn't want to be late for my appointment with you. I just must have forgotten." It was a pretty lame excuse, but reason and sensibility were not common features of dreams.

He then started to spank her. Swat after swat after swat rained down on her bottom. He was never hitting her at all hard. In fact, it hardly seemed to hurt. It was more like a little playful stinging. However, she was herself playing the part of a very remorseful and chastened schoolgirl. She protested and pleaded for him to stop, but there was also a part of her that wanted him to continue. She kind of liked the fact that she could show herself off to him, that she was again making a man excited. Then, he stopped. There was silence, and, then, the sound of his zipper coming down and she woke up. What a strange dream.

She slid down in the bed so that she could get a closer look at her husband's penis. It looked even bigger up close. She was reminded of another dream; one that was even weirder. She had been tied up by a bunch of boy scouts, her top was pulled down so that they could see her bosoms, and they were masturbating. She was trying to tell them in her most commanding, authoritative voice to untie her, but they wouldn't listen. She tried to squirm out of the ropes, but that only made her naked breasts bounce and wiggle around, much to their pleasure. Suddenly, she was on her knees while they smacked her face with their penises. Actually, as she recalls, they were no longer there. There was just penises. The air all around her was filled with naked penises. Some of them were soft, some were hard, some were small, some were large, but there were so many of them. They were poking her all over her face, crowding and pushing each other to try to get to her. Some of them were even trying to get into her mouth. A particularly small but hard one was having some success trying to squeeze past her lips. She could see that one of them, a really big one, was beginning to pulse and throb right in front of her eyes, yet she couldn't take her eyes off of it. The head seemed to swell and expand to three times its size. Fortunately she woke up before she saw what happened next.

Jim's penis was substantially smaller than the big one in her dream, but it seemed no less exciting. Actually, she felt even more excited than in the dream, as this was for real and she knew that what she was doing was very, very wrong. She turned her face toward Jim, checking to see that he was still asleep, as she softly rubbed her check against the soft round head of his engorged penis. She had never done anything like this before. She wondered if perhaps she should see a therapist. She was having some pretty disturbing dreams, and was now even doing a very dirty thing. Perhaps she should see a professional.

She felt down between her legs. She was awfully wet now. She should stop.

She heard him groan. She froze. She stole at glance at his face. Thank goodness he was still asleep. She realized she better stop while she was ahead. She carefully slipped his erect penis back into his pajama bottoms and buttoned the flap so that it wouldn't pop back out. She gave the head a little caress with her finger through his cotton bottoms before she lied back down to go back to sleep. She knew she would have a bad dream now. She considered masturbating before she went to sleep, but that was something she knew would be terribly bad.

Bridget did masturbate after some of her dates with Jason. She couldn't help herself. She imagined though that it must be a lot worse for him. She knew about boys getting a dull ache from unsatisfied stimulation. She would at times think about him playing with himself as she was diddling herself, as she liked to call it. In fact, one time she even called him. They both had their own cell phones. It was a little risky. They both still lived at home, as did most of the students at Templeton College. Bridget hid under the blankets when she called. She didn't want her parents to catch her on the phone when she was suppose to be sleeping. But, she just had to talk to him. It had been a particularly heavy evening of necking. As soon as she got home she took a shower, hoping that it would cool her off and calm her down. It didn't work. She tried reading, but that didn't work either. So, she went to bed to play with herself. She then got the inspiration to call him up.


Jasons and the Johnsons



"Are you alone Pookie?" she asked. 'Pookie' was her pet name for him. In any case, he was alone. "Are in bed?" He was. A double stroke of luck. She said softly, "I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed tonight," as she played with her soft, wet pussy beneath the sheets. It was so nice to hear his voice as she felt herself down there. It was like she was finally doing it with him.

She didn't know if he was also playing with himself. She knew there was a reasonable chance that she had caught him in the act. She in fact hope that she had. The thought of him playing with himself as she talked to him was kind of exciting. She spoke in her most affectionate, tender voice. She hoped that she sounded sultry and sexy. She hoped that she was turning him on.

And, she was. Jason was not playing with himself when his cell phone rang. He was in fact finishing some homework, but the sexiness of her voice did have the desired effect. He could feel himself getting harder and harder as she talked.

Bridget told him how much she had enjoyed kissing him. How strong his muscles felt. How nice it felt when he held her and touched her. "I particularly liked it when you held my, um." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Your what?" he asked.

"Don't make me say it out loud, Pookie." She could feel her face flush with embarrassment and arousal. "You know what I'm talking about," she whispered.

"Not really," Jason lied.

"My, um," she said quite quietly, "my breasts," and as she said that, she clutched her right boob in her hand, squeezing it and feeling her nipple harden. "I like it when you hold my breasts; you know, and, um, play with them."

Jason hurried over to shut the bedroom door. He needed some privacy. Bridget had never talked so openly about sex before. As soon as the door was locked he undid his pants and reached inside to grasp his hard stiffness.

Bridget even told him that she saw how hard he had gotten that evening and how she wanted to touch him there, to feel it. Being on the phone made it much easier for her to talk openly. "It sticks out so far. Is it uncomfortable for you?"

Jason brought his cock out of his pants and started to beat himself off, and this time with considerably more pleasure than usual. "No, no, Bridget, it's, um, it's ok."

Bridget was similarly playing with herself as she continued to talk about doing things with Jason. She asked him to be patient with her, because someday, sometime, she would touch him there. She would make him happy. "Pookie?" she asked.

"Yes, Bridget."

"Do you, uh, sometimes, I mean, you know, play with yourself when you get home?" She was now circling her raised hips as she was sliding her finger up and down her slit, as well as around and around her clit.

Jason didn't know what to say in response to that. He was afraid that she would think he was a pervert if she knew he masturbated after being with her, thinking of her. Heck, he was even doing it right now. A moment of confused panic and guilt swept over him.

Bridget though answered for him. "It's ok, you know, if you do. I understand."

Jason gripped himself hard. His guilt washed away. In fact, he could feel his cock swelling even harder within his enclosed fist. She was giving him permission to jerk off. She might not even mind it if she knew he was doing it right now! At least, it was fine with her for him to enjoy himself that way, and he was not about to miss an opportunity like this. It was as if he was masturbating with her in the room, right in front of her.

"I wish I was ready to do it for you, Pookie." She said even more softly, "I think you would like it."

Bridget hoped that this talk was making him excited. It was certainly having a big effect on her. She was getting so hot, so wet. She was now diddling herself with considerable urgency. She could hear the sounds of her cunnie's arousal, the squishy and slurpy sounds as she frantically wiggled her clit as she continued to whisper to him over the phone, talking about how exciting and fun it was to hold him, to kiss him. "Would you like me to touch it, Jason, to play with it?"

Jason felt even more bold. "Do you like it when I touch, um, touch your, your." He had to whisper it. "Your nipples, Bridget?"

Bridget was for a moment speechless. She removed her fingers from her slit to squeeze her taught nipple. "My what, Pookie?" she asked breathlessly. "Say it again," she pleaded. "Please?"

Jason whispered, but this time more assertively, "Your nipples, Bridget. Your stiff, hard nipples," he exclaimed, staring at this own hard cock grasped within his pounding fist.

"Oh Jason," she replied, gasping with each breath. "Would you kiss them for me? Would you?"

"Yes, yes, I would. I would do more than that. I would kiss them, I would, I would suck them." He feared he went too far.

But he hadn't. "I would suck you too, Jason." She couldn't believe she said that. What a terrible thing to say!

Jason could feel the pressure mounting. "What, what would you suck, Bridget?" hoping that she wouldn't say his nipples. He wanted to hear her say it, to just at least say it.

And, she did, "Your penis, Jason." She knew that wasn't right. "Your," she paused, then added very quietly, hoping her parents wouldn't hear, "Your cock. I would suck your cock."

That did it for him. A breathless, "Yea," was all he could muster as his cock spurted its load.

"Wait, wait, Jason," Bridget exclaimed as rushes of passion overwhelmed her. She dropped the cell phone to her side. Her face went flush, her heart pounded, and her little pussy almost gushed with fluid. She trembled with passion as her orgasm swept through her. She gripped her cunt hard with her hand as her head jerked forward and backward, her breathing coming in spasmodic bursts, sweat pouring out all over her.

"I can't, I can't," Jason replied, not knowing that Bridget was long gone. He dropped the phone on the bed as his dick continued to spurt gobs of cum onto his shirt and over his hand. He was making quite a mess. He would have to wash this shirt before his mother saw it. His jism was spraying all over himself, but he didn't mind. It felt so good.

When Bridget regained her composure she told him that she had heard her father in the hallway and so had to be quiet until he passed. She wasn't sure that this really fooled him, but she could not go so far as to tell him that she was playing with herself, although there was a part of her that hoped he knew. However, another part of her felt rather shameful. "I better go now, Jason. I've got classes tomorrow." She said softly, "You have sweet dreams, Pookie."

"Love you," Jason replied. He rarely said that, but it seemed so right, although his hand was sloppy with sticky cum, his chest feeling damp and cool with the wetness soaking through. He hung up the phone.

Bridget closed her eyes, sighed, and drifted off to a blissful slumber.

Madeline's dreams were not so peaceful. She was sitting on her bed, drying her hair. She heard Jason's voice.

"Mrs. Johnson?"

She looked up to see Jason standing just a couple of feet in front of her. She was confused to see him in her bedroom. He had never been there before. She became self-consciously aware that she was wearing only a robe, having just left her shower. She let the towel drop to her lap and used her right hand to clasp the front of her robe to keep it from falling open. She replied, "Jason, yes, can I help you?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Johnson." He was clearly hesitant, uncomfortable, to explain himself. "Uh, it's kind of hard to say."

"Well, Jason, please, feel free to speak your mind. You're my daughter's boyfriend. I will be happy to help you in any way I can."

"It's, uh, it's just that, well, I don't think I can keep this up."

She was confused. "Keep what up, Jason?"

Jason looked away, unable to make eye contact while he explained. "Your daughter, Mrs. Johnson, is so very attractive. I mean, I just don't know if I can resist her much longer."

Mrs. Johnson felt strangely disappointed that he wasn't referring to her. "My daughter is an attractive young woman."

"Yes, she is, Mrs. Johnson. As you can see, I was just with her and I have this terribly hard penis." Mrs. Johnson had no real idea how Jason would actually refer to his erection, but she would herself call it a penis. In any case, her eyes opened wide as she saw the very evident bulge in his slacks. It was much larger than Jason would in fact have, but dreams hardly keep to reality.

"My goodness, Jason, yes, I do see your problem."

"I know, Mrs. Johnson. It aches and aches, and I just don't know what to do with it."

"Well, Jason, Jim and I certainly don't have any objections to young men engaging in the practice of masturbation in the privacy of their own bedroom." Actually, Mr. Johnson would object to that, particularly if Jason was thinking about his daughter. But, in her dream, she was more conciliatory.

"Gosh, I don't know if I could do anything like that, Mrs. Johnson. I mean, isn't that a dirty, wrong thing to do?"

She was reassured that he felt this way. Mr. Johnson would be pleased as well. "Of course not, Jason," she responded. "It's a perfectly normal thing to do," although she wasn't at all sure she really meant it. "I mean, I imagine Jim must have done such things when he was your age, when he was having difficulty controlling himself around me." Madeline though couldn't imagine Jim doing that now and, in fact, she even wondered if he ever felt like it was hard to control himself around her. She wondered if he had ever masturbated. She sighed in frustration.

"I just couldn't do anything like that, Mrs. Johnson. I want to be a good boy. It's not right to abuse yourself like that." To Madeline, it was as if her husband was talking to her as a young man. Jason continued, "I would think Bridget would want it that way. I mean, she might be very disappointed in me if she knew I was doing things like that."

Mrs. Johnson would not in fact be surprised if Bridget would feel repulsed at the thought of Jason masturbating. She and Jim were indeed raising her to be a good girl. Mrs. Johnson, though, had a brainstorm. "Maybe I can help you, Jason."

"Really Mrs. Johnson? I would be very grateful. I really don't know what to do about this."

Mrs. Johnson let go of the front of her robe. It fell open a bit, revealing a very substantial cleavage. She smiled at Jason and opened the front further to display her naked breasts. Mrs. Johnson was quite large, but in her dream they might have been even a bit larger. They were certainly much firmer than in reality. They stood out from her as they did when she was herself a young woman; in fact, they were, in her dream, rather outstanding, prominent breasts.

Jason's jaw dropped in shock and admiration. "Mrs. Johnson, what are doing?" he exclaimed, but nevertheless staring in awe and fascination at the large white hillocks, peaked by quite prominently stiff nipples.

"Don't you like them, Jason?" Mrs. Johnson would feel very insecure and uncertain doing something like this with her husband, but with Jason she could be the one confidently in control, at least in her dream.

"Well, yes, of course, Mrs. Johnson, but isn't this just as wrong?"

"Actually, Jason, this will be good for both us, as well as for Bridget. It won't be like you're being unfaithful to her. I clearly could never take you away from her, nor would I want to. I want it to work out for the two of you and, for it to work, you do need to get some relief in a manner other than self-abuse. I will be helping my daughter protect her virginity, as well as helping you from engaging in any sort of abuse." It might not in fact be terribly logical, but logic is again not a remarkably strong feature of dreams.

Jason was hardly listening to her. His eyes were fixed on those large, white globes. It was evident to Mrs. Johnson that he wanted to touch them.

Mrs. Johnson commanded him, "Place your hands on my breasts, Jason."

"I really don't think I should, Mrs. Johnson."

"Are going to disobey me, Jason?" She said mischievously but forcefully, "Perhaps you would prefer instead a spanking for your disobedience? We can try that as well." The dream was flirting with a radical shift in direction.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on one's predilections, Jason chose to obey rather than receive a spanking. He approached her.

She spread her legs open to provide room for him to get close to those luscious boobs. As a result, her robe opened even further, revealing the womanhood between her legs. Jason hesitated when he saw her cunt. It was as if he had never actually seen one before, at least that was what she thought. His eyes grew wide as he gazed at the sight.

"Have you ever seen one of these before?"

"Golly no, Mrs. Johnson."

"Well, if you're a good boy, I'll let you play with it. For now though, I want you to grab hold of mummies big breasts." Mrs. Johnson wasn't Jason's mother, but at the moment it felt sexy for her to say it that way. She was certainly close to being his mother, perhaps someday his mother.

Like a good boy, Jason obeyed. He hesitantly and shyly, but with considerable anticipation, reached out and grabbed each breast with his hands. "Oh my," he gasped as felt her soft firm globes. They were so large, so much larger than his hands could grasp.

Mrs. Johnson closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure at the touch of the young man's hands. It had been so long since anyone, even her husband, had felt her breasts like this. It was so nice to have a man, even a young man, touching, feeling them again. Her nipples swelled in passion.

She couldn't help herself. She knew it was wrong but she reached out to grasp his young erect cock through his slacks. She whispered to him, her voice quaking with a breathless desire, "Jason, let me help you. Let Mrs. Johnson take care of you."

Jason was lost in the reverie of pawing her breasts, feeling and needing them with his fingers and hands, exploring their curves, their softness, their pliancy, their heaviness. He whispered in response, "Yes, please Mrs. Johnson, I need your help. Help me be a good boy for Bridget."

Mrs. Johnson pulled down the zipper to his slacks and reached inside the fly to grasp his cock through the cotton briefs. She could feel his stiffness pressing hard against his underwear. She let her hand wander up and down its length. She circled her finger around the bulb. It was so nice to feel a youthful erection yearning for her body.

She removed her hand from his fly and unbuttoned his slacks. She then grasped the waistband of his slacks and pulled them down. Jason instinctively brought his hands in front of himself to hide the evident erection pushing out his briefs. There did seem to be something odd about, perhaps even wrong, standing in front of Mrs. Johnson in only his underwear, displaying a big boner.

"Pull down your undies, Jason."

Jason was nervous, but he complied. He covered his erection as best he could with his left hand as he pulled down his briefs with his right. When his briefs were at his ankles he stood back up and returned his right hand to hide his embarrassment. 

"C'mon Jason, show Mrs. Johnson what a big boy you are."

"Yes ma'am," he quietly replied. He took a deep breath and removed his hands. He was now standing in front of her, his stiff cock pointing strong and hard from his body.

"Well, Jason, you are quite the man. I think you will make Bridget a very happy bride."

Jason was quite happy to hear that. He didn't think he was very big. He thrust his hips out further in pride.

She in turn teased him further. "Have you shown my little girl your big manly penis?"

"Golly no, Mrs. Johnson, no ma'am, I wouldn't do that."

"Now don't you be a bad boy and lie to Mrs. Johnson."

"Ma'am, I swear, it's true."

"Well." She paused, letting him squirm a bit. "I believe you." Mrs. Johnson reached out and traced her fingers up and down its stiff length. Jason sighed with pleasure.

"Jason, would you like to see what it is like to have a woman place her mouth on your penis?"

"Oh yes, Mrs. Johnson, very much so!" He couldn't believe his good luck. "You would really do that?"

Mrs. Johnson blushed, realizing that she was offering to do something that she normally would never do, not even with her husband. Now, she was actually going to give her daughter's boyfriend a blow job. She asked, "You won't tell Bridget I did this for you?"

"Oh no, Mrs. Johnson, certainly not."

Mrs. Johnson felt a pang of guilt as she bent down to slide her mouth over the purple, engorged head, but she could also feel a wave of pleasure sweep over her as her mouth approached his cock.

Suddenly, however, a large gush of white fluid shot from his cock, rushing rapidly to her face, and Mrs. Johnson woke, feeling sweaty, anxious, and, once again, terribly aroused. She groaned in frustration. She wondered, 'Couldn't my dreams at least finish? Must I continue to be so frustrated?' She felt down in between her legs. She was terribly wet, but also felt terribly guilty, realizing now she had a dream about Bridget's boyfriend. It was bad enough to have dreams about her neighbor, Mr. Peters, but to be having dreams about Jason? She withdrew her fingers from her cunt, loudly sighed, and tried to again drift off to sleep, hoping now to find peace of mind, or at least relief, in her next nocturnal encounter.

Bridget though wasn't having much more success awake. Jason and Bridget had been looking forward to their next time alone, after the time together on the phone. They hooked up after classes, intending to perhaps sneak away before Bridget had to be home for dinner. Bridget was suppose to be home early to help with dinner, but she had told her father that she had volunteered to help Mr. Peters prepare slides for a conference presentation. Mr. Johnson could not deny his daughter's effort to incur the favor of one of the more prominent faculty at Templeton.

However, using Mr. Peters for her excuse was a poor choice. Mr. Peters was a neighbor of the Johnsons and Jim saw him gardening in his yard when Bridget was supposedly working with him. He instantly called Bridget on her cell phone and demanded that she return home immediately. He had never had one of his daughters blatantly defy and deceive him in such a manner.

He was incensed. Actually, that wasn't really quite true. He was in fact in one regard very pleased as Bridget's duplicity provided him with the excuse he needed to thwart Jason's efforts to be alone with her. He did not at all like the fact that Bridget was dating, and he certainly felt that Jason was not the type of boy that would be good for her (although it wasn't really clear whether any young man would meet with his approval). In any case, for her chicanery, he gave Bridget a stern lecture, a sound spanking, and grounded her indefinitely.

Mr. Johnson's crackdown, however, did little to diminish Bridget's interest in Jason. On the contrary, it only increased her desire. She was becoming infatuated with Jason. Bridget had always been a very obedient daughter, never expressing any disagreement or hint of defiance, even passively. However, she had now come of age, and she was determined to assert her independence.

The probation was not easy. Foremost were no more dates until they could prove that they could be trusted. Jason was, however, allowed to visit, along as they were chaperoned. Studying together at the house was acceptable, as long as at least one parent was home, and, even then, the door to her bedroom had to remain open at all times. 

Mr. Johnson preferred that they work in the study. He did not understand why they had to do their homework in Bridget's bedroom. The house had a study; the study was precisely for the purpose of studying, whereas a bedroom was obviously for much different purposes. Why not then use the study?




Jasons and the Johnsons



Madeline though was more sympathetic. She didn't like the suggestive atmosphere of a bedroom but she understood that they should have at least some privacy. They could not demonstrate that they could be trusted as long as they were not provided with some freedom.

However, there was a complication for Saturday. Jason was coming over to study right after lunch. Mr. Johnson would not be home because he had a standing golf outing on Saturday afternoons. Mrs. Johnson would be home but she had wanted to do some gardening by the pool. Even their youngest daughter, Patty, would be away for the day. Mr. Johnson, therefore, suggested at Friday dinner that Bridget cancel the study session. Bridget became very upset, which was itself rather surprising. She hadn't seen Jason for days and they had previously agreed to let him come over. It just didn't seem fair. However, the fact that she was actually disagreeing with him was itself disturbing to Mr. Johnson. He did not like the effect Jason was having on her.

Mrs. Johnson was also concerned with Bridget's outburst of defiance but she did not want to escalate the growing conflict. She offered a compromise. Perhaps they could study by the pool? She would even make some lemonade as it was going to be a hot day, and Jason could bring over his swim trucks. They could take a break every once and awhile, and cool off with a swim.

Bridget was delighted with that proposal, but it was nixed by her father. The whole thought of his daughter lounging around in her bathing suit with Jason? That was hardly the right atmosphere for good behavior, let alone studying. No, the pool was out. 

Mrs. Johnson then noted that she would not be long in the garden and while she was there it would be fine for Jason to be in Bridget's room as long as he sat by the window where she could keep her eye on him. Frankly, that was more supervision than would be provided if she was in the house. 

Mr. Johnson could live with that, but it was now Bridget's turn to object. Bridget found the idea of Jason sitting at the window to be ridiculous, even demeaning.

It was tough being the one in the middle, trying to make everybody happy, but Mrs. Johnson eventually convinced Bridget to accept the compromise. It would not really be any different than usual. Even when a parent was in the house Jason was never allowed to sit on her bed. He always had to sit in a chair, a good distance from the bed. The only difference would be that Bridget had to put the chair by the window so that her mother could keep an eye on him.

Bridget acquiesced. The only alternative was to be in the study, and anything was better than having to spend her time with Jason in the study. They did occasionally kiss and make-out in her bedroom, for the briefest of moments and obviously unbeknownst to her parents. Jason having to sit beside the window would temporarily halt that, but once her mother was in the house they could resume their furtive dalliances. It was much harder to do that in the study, as the study was on the main floor and you never knew when someone might just walk by.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mrs. Johnson greeted Jason at the door when he arrived. Mr. Johnson had already left for golf. Jason found Mrs. Johnson to be her usually attractive self. She was a striking woman and Jason could tell from whom Bridget got her good looks. "Jason, so lovely to see you again. Please, please, do come in."

"Yes, well, thank you Mrs. Johnson."

Jason always felt a bit uncomfortable with Mrs. Johnson. Actually, he felt rather uncomfortable with both of Bridget's parents. It wasn't hard to understand the discomfort with Mr. Johnson. Every boy who attempted to date Bridget could attest to that. His discomfort with Mrs. Johnson though was more confusing. She was very warm and engaging, quite the opposite of Mr. Johnson. The problem was that her engaging warmth was coupled with an evident sexual appeal, and perhaps even a sexual aura. There was always something sexually provocative about her, and it seemed to be increasing over the last few weeks. Jason usually attributed this to his own frustrated hormones coupled with her evident good lucks. But, there were times he wasn't so sure. There were times she seemed herself to be equally frustrated.

And one could not deny how provocative she appeared right now. She was wearing only a bathrobe.

"Jason, I'm so sorry for my appearance. I'm afraid you've caught me at a disadvantage. I was just getting out of the shower. I must have lost track of the time."

"Uh, that's fine, Mrs. Johnson, don't worry, I'll just go up to Bridget's room."

Mrs. Johnson held her robe shut with her left hand and placed her right on Jason's arm. "Oh, no Jason, I'm afraid Bridget actually isn't home yet."

"She's not home?" That was odd. He wasn't appreciably early. She should be there. How could she have forgotten?

Mrs. Johnson chuckled at his evident concern. "No, no, don't you worry, Jason. She will be here shortly. She's just running a little late."

"Oh, um, ok." Jason could smell the fragrant scent of her shampoo and bath oil.

"Well, Jason, you are looking like quite the handsome young man today."

"Yes, well, thank you, Mrs. Johnson. You really look quite good yourself."

'What the heck was I thinking?' he said to himself. His face flushed with embarrassment over that faux pas. He was pretty darn lucky that Mr. Johnson wasn't there to hear it. He might be out the front door right then.

Mrs. Johnson, though, was not at all bothered. In fact, she was rather flattered, even pleased.

It was nice being flattered once again and, in this case, by such a good looking young man. It made her feel a bit young herself. She thought of a recent dream of him and flushed a bit herself. "Well, thank you, Jason, how nice of you to say so." She squeezed his arm and smiled sweetly at him. "Here, let me help you with your jacket." She took his math book and helped him get out of his jacket.

Jason couldn't help but notice the touch of her full breasts against his back as she helped him out of the jacket. He could tell that she was braless. He even wondered if he might have felt her nipple. He could feel himself swelling in his pants. "Thank you, Mrs. Johnson."

Before she hung his jacket on the hooks by the door she traced her hand across his back. "My, you have quite the shoulders for such a young man, Jason."

"Uh, yea, well, I work out a bit."

"It certainly shows." As she hung up his jacket she asked, "Would you like a cola, Jason?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary, Mrs. Johnson. I'll just go to Bridget's room."

"Well, you will be a bit lonely there, Jason." She reached out and took his hand, letting go of the robe. His eyes naturally want to the deep cleavage now showing through the opening. "Here, why don't you come upstairs with me. We can keep each other company."

"Um, well, sure, certainly Mrs. Johnson." He followed her upstairs. Jason openly watched the delightful swivel of her hips as she climbed the stairs. With her being a few steps in front of him he would have had trouble ignoring them as his face was precisely at the level of her bottom. He even detected a bit of a wiggle of her soft buttocks.

Mrs. Johnson paused on the stairs to point out a picture of Bridget when she was just twelve. She looked back and saw Jason's eyes focused on her derriere. He almost bumped right into it.

Jason heard her giggle and felt a bit flustered. He looked up at her. She was no longer looking at him as she was pointing at the picture of Bridget. "She was quite the darling back then, wasn't she Jason."

He looked at the picture. "Oh yes, yes she was, Mrs. Johnson."

"I have some more pictures of her upstairs Jason, in our bedroom. Would you like to see them?"

He had never been in that room before. The thought of it seemed a bit awkward. "Uh, well, perhaps I will just wait in Bridget's room." As he said that, though, he knew it was a mistake. You don't decline a request of a girl's mother to spend time with her, particularly when the purpose was to look at the family album. This might in fact be a good opportunity to get Mrs. Johnson on his side. He corrected his error. "No, hey, of course, sure, I'd like to see them."

"Well, good. I think you will enjoy seeing them." He couldn't help but fantasize about what she meant by "them."

Jason followed Mrs. Johnson into her bedroom. She directed him to sit on the bed as she got the photo album. Jason felt quite awkward being in her bedroom, sitting on her bed, and Mrs. Johnson dressed only in a bathrobe. It became even more difficult when she bent over to retrieve the photo album. The front of her robe spread open, and he could now see much of her luscious full breasts. His eyes widened in shock and wonder. 'She's so big!' he thought. Her hanging jugs rocked and wiggled as she worked to find the photo album. His dick now fully swelled.

As Mrs. Johnson turned toward him, she could tell that he was getting excited. She knew this was a bit wrong, flirting with her daughter's boyfriend, but she had no intention of carrying it too far. She just wanted to have a little fun. She felt so frustrated.

"Mother! I'm home!" It was Bridget. She had returned. Bridget immediately looked to see if Jason was in the parlor, but nobody was there. She called upstairs, "Is Jason here?"

"Oh my gosh Mrs. Johnson. I have to go!" Jason quickly stood up and turned to extricate himself from her bedroom. It just didn't seem right to be there, with her undressed the way she was.

"Jason, wait," Mrs. Johnson commanded.

Jason stopped just as he was about to get out of the room. He turned back, but only halfway so that he wouldn't actually be looking at her.

Bridget called upstairs, "Is he up there with you?"

"Mrs. Johnson, I need to go."

Mrs. Johnson understood that. She also would not want Bridget to see them together like this. It was perfectly innocent, but it could be misunderstood. She just wanted to remind Jason of one thing. "Be sure to say something nice about her hair."

"What?" He replied, incredulously. 'What is it with women and their hair?' he wondered.

Mrs. Johnson moved up close to him, her robe still opened in front. He could see a good portion of her white mounds bobbing and jiggling as she approached. She leaned into him, allowing a deeper look down her robe and another reminder of her bath oil. She explained the importance of her hair.

"Bridget was late because she was at the parlor, getting a new hairstyle. She's very excited about it. Be sure to let her know how pretty it looks."

Jason was relieved, and grateful. That was in fact very good advice. He smiled at her. "Sure, yea, thanks Mrs. Johnson, I'll be sure."

"Good boy," she replied. "Now, you two go have fun."

Before he left, he was careful to maintain his manners. "It was very nice speaking to you, Mrs. Johnson." This was fine, but he followed with the cliche, "I hope we can do this again sometime." As soon as he said that, he realized the error. But, there was no time to correct his mistake.

Mrs. Johnson laughed. She knew he didn't really mean it. It was kind of cute though.

He dashed through the door and down the hall. When he was far enough from her room, he called out, "Hi Bridget. It's me. I'm up here."

Bridget perked up at the sound of his voice. "Oh, good. I'll be right up." She hung her coat on the hook by the door and scampered upstairs.

Jason met her at the top of the stairs. She stopped when she saw him. She realized that it was a mistake to be running. Her hair might get messed up.

Jason was glad she stopped. It gave him some time to admire the way she looked.. She was wearing a pink chiffon sweater with a wide swing skirt, sprinkled with pink polka dots. Her white socks even matched, as they had little pink wavy lines. Even her sneakers were pink. And, she clearly had made a major change to her hairstyle. Bridget had curly blonde hair. However, today she had a soft and wavy Sandra Dee look. And, it did work. She looked adorable. Her sparkling large green eyes gazed at him, waiting for him to say something, to notice her hair.

"Your hair is really nice today, Bridget, did you do something new with it?"

Bridget beamed. "Why Jason, thank you. It wasn't much." She was lying through her teeth about that. She had been worried that he wouldn't like it. She fiddled with one of her waves, letting him admire it further, and then dashed up the rest of the way. She gave him a quick peck on the lips, grasped his hand in hers, and pulled him toward her bedroom.

Mrs. Johnson called out from her bedroom. "Be sure to keep the door open."

"Yes, mother!" Bridget called back, with evident frustration in her voice.

The hall phone rang as they approached the bedroom. Mrs. Johnson called out. "Bridget, that's your father. Please get it for me. I can't come out there. I'm not yet dressed."

Jason felt a twitch in his cock as she reminded him of that fact. Bridget, however, sighed with annoyance. She was running late and didn't appreciate that her mother continued to take time away from her time with Jason. Nevertheless, there was of course no way her mother could get the phone if she wasn't dressed. As she was bringing the receiver to her ear though she did wonder what Jason was doing upstairs if her mother wasn't dressed.

Her thoughts were distracted by the sound of her father's voice. "Honey, is that you? Where is your mother?"

"She's in the bedroom, daddy. She told me to get the phone."

"That's fine, sweetie. I'm just calling about dinner." Her father often called from work to let Mrs. Johnson know what he'd like for dinner. Bridget was now really annoyed. It was bad enough that her father was so restrictive of her time with Jason; now he even made her take his stupid dinner instructions when she could instead be with Jason. However, she listened patiently as he went through his instructions.

Jason was also feeling rather impatient. He was now rather worked up. He couldn't wait to get to the bedroom. All he could think about now were Bridget's tender, sweet breasts. They looked like big pink cotton balls in her sweater. He recalled what she said on the phone to him, and so boldly reached out to grasp each of her young round breasts in his hands.

He had never been so brash like this before. It shocked Bridget. Not only had he not done something like this before, but he was doing it right in the hallway of her parents' house, with daddy on the phone and her mother around the corner. Her eyes opened in shock and surprise.

She put her hand on the receiver and exclaimed, "Jason, stop that!" She did not, however, push him away. She liked it when he touched her, and they were probably safe with her mother getting dressed, at least for awhile. Besides, it only seemed fair given that her father was using their time. In fact, it was actually kind of fun like this; talking to her father while her boyfriend played with her boobies. If daddy only knew.

"Yes, daddy, you want mashed potatoes tonight. I got that. Do you want them all soft and squishy?" She smiled flirtatiously at Jason, as he mashed and squished her breasts through the sweater. Jason's cock was now quite notably hard.

"What?" Her father had no idea what she was talking about. "Just have your mother make them per usual." Sometimes his daughter could act so dense. "Has Jason arrived?"

"Yes, daddy," she replied, looking conspiratorially at him as he fondled her boobs. She could feel her nipples getting very stiff. She pushed her breasts out to him, encouraging him to do more.

Jason decided to try to venture where nobody had ever gone before. He reached under her skirt for her pussy.

"Well, put him on the phone."

"He's kind of busy, daddy," she replied, trying to use one hand to keep Jason from reaching up her skirt as she used the other for the phone.

"Bridget, this is your father speaking to you. Now, I asked you to put Jason on the phone!"

"Ok, you don't have to shout."

He wasn't shouting, but he was annoyed with her, per usual.

Bridget handed the phone to Jason. It was actually good timing. His hand was moving up to her panties and she really didn't think she was ready for something like that. "He wants to speak to you."

Jason froze. "Me?" he asked, his hand resting on her soft warm thigh. It was like he was caught by her father with his hand in the cookie jar. Although, in this case, he hadn't actually even reached her cookie. He pulled his hand from beneath her skirt and took the phone.

"Mr. Johnson? You wanted to speak to me?"

"Hello, Jason, this is Mr. Johnson."

"Yes sir, I know," he replied, feeling concerned and apprehensive about what he wanted to say to him. He was glad this was at least over the phone, as he figured that Mr. Johnson would easily detect that he had been up to something by the look on his face. Perhaps though he could tell as well by the sound of his voice. He tried to calm down. "What is it that you wanted to speak to me about, sir?"

Mr. Johnson just wanted to reiterate to Jason the house rules, the importance of adhering to them, and how much his daughter met to him. Jason had heard this lecture many times before. Frankly, he was beginning to resent it. He would hate to have a father like that. He almost wanted to "do" his daughter just to get back at him, but he wouldn't do anything like that. He liked Bridget very much. If this is what it took to date her, he would be patient.

Bridget would have stopped Jason before he had touched her down there, between her legs, without her father's interference, but she was herself now feeling emboldened and rebellious. It was in fact a rather safe environment to try new things. Jason wouldn't push things too far while they were in the hallway of their house, her mother just around the corner. She could push the envelope without fear that he would rip it open. In any case, she was herself getting rather aroused by their sex play. It was actually a little exciting to be doing this while speaking to her father on the phone. While Jason was speaking to her dad, she reached out and traced a finger down his bulging erection.

It was now Jason's turn for his eyes to widen in shock and surprise. She was touching him! She was actually touching him right on his erection. Holy cow! But, could she have possibly picked a worse time? Well, he was not about to question her timing; any time was better than no time.

It was in fact fun to be hearing Mr. Johnson lecture him about behaving himself as his daughter was running her fingers up and down his cock. He looked back and forth between Bridget's fingers and her face, although the greatest pleasure was simply the feel of her pinky tracing along his stiffness. This was so much better than his own hand.

Bridget might even be enjoying it more. She was surprised at how firm and hard he felt. It was like when he clenched his biceps for her. She had enjoyed that. Her man showing her his muscles. She thought they were ever so big. But, this muscle was even more intriguing. She wondered how big it was.

However, they both heard Mrs. Johnson coming out of the bedroom. Bridget quickly pulled back and Jason turned away to get his bulge out of her line of sight.

"Here, let me talk to him myself," she directed.

Jason nodded and said, "Mr. Johnson, your wife wants to talk to you. Here she is." He was glad to end that conversation, although not so glad for Bridget to be interrupted. He handed the phone to her mother.

As he was doing so he turned toward her, noticing that she was wearing a rather tight t-shirt, and quite evidently with no bra. Her bulbous breasts wiggled and shook beneath the thin cotton as she reached for the phone. He could even clearly see her nipples poking through.

Mrs. Johnson noticed as well Jason's bulge. She smiled, thinking that it was due to him still thinking of their moment within the bedroom. She was quite flattered, and impressed. Youngsters had so much stamina. But, she did wonder if he should be more careful around Bridget. Bridget though didn't seem, to her, to be noticing anything. As she brought the phone to her ear, her husband's voice distracted her attention away from her concern. Bridget and Jason took the opportunity to retire to the bedroom.




Jasons and the Johnsons



Jason had been to her bedroom many times before, but it never seemed to grow old. It was quite the personal living space. He had to look hard to find something that wasn't pink. It was like he entered the bedroom of Elle Woods. When you first walked in you stepped onto an oval pink throw rug imprinted with poodles that matched the coverlet on her princess bed. The wallpaper was pink with little flowers. Daisies? He wasn't sure. The vanity desk was pink (covered with virtually every beauty product imaginable, as well as being adorned with pictures of her friends, including, of course, one of his own; she called it her Brad Pitt picture), the curtains were pink (ruffled valance), and the dresser was pink (adorned with pink framed family pictures). There were all sorts of stuffed animals on the bed, and, naturally, all but a few were pink: pink bunnies, pink bears, pink lions; even a pink panda.

Bridget's pink outfit seemed to melt into the background. It was all a little unsettling, but strangely appealing. The room at least smelled nice. He wasn't sure if it was her butterfly rosewood perfume, lavender bath oil, or the pink rose potpourri.

As Bridget led him into the bedroom though she pointed to the chair by the window and explained the rule. Jason was disappointed. All of the possibilities he was hoping for flew out that window. He glumly sat down. This was even worse than normal, as they wouldn't even be able to steal a few quick kisses.

"Don't be mad, Jason." Bridget could see his disappointment. She didn't want him to feel bad. "Mother won't be out there long. We can still do things."

Jason felt like he was being treated like a little boy who was being told to sit in a corner. He was too old for this. He wondered if Bridget was worth all of this. Well, it didn't take long for him to recognize that she was. She seemed, at least to him, to be the prettiest girl he had ever known. Her large green eyes were perhaps her best feature, although those two cute furry mounds were awfully appealing as well. And, he had been honest when he had complimented her hairdo. It was perhaps outdated. How many girls today wanted a Sandra Dee look? But, in the context of this feminine pink bedroom, it did look very good on her.

"I really do like you hair, Bridget," he said this time with more spontaneity and sincerity.

Bridget flushed with pleasure. "I'm so sorry about this, Jason," referring to the chair. "You're not mad you came over, are you Pookie?"

Jason smiled at her. She was sitting on the bed, a math book in her lap. Her breasts looked so nice in her sweater, like two large pink cotton balls. 

Jason looked out the window. Mrs. Johnson was carrying a wicker basket, trowel, and spading fork into the garden. "I'll make a deal with you, Bridget."

"Anything, Jason," Bridget replied.

"I'll stay in this seat if you study without your sweater."

"Jason!" Bridget replied, openly shocked at his suggestion. He had never been so assertive, so bold.

Jason had surprised himself. He had not planned on asking or suggesting any such thing. He had, in the past, asked Bridget, politely, if he could look inside her blouse. A couple of times he had even tried to reach inside. But, he quickly desisted when she expressed her objection. To just openly make such a proposal seemed grossly out of character. However, he was feeling emboldened. Perhaps it was the prior phone call, perhaps the time with Mrs. Johnson, perhaps a rebellion over the chair, or perhaps everything. Perhaps the time was right?

"Jason, I can't do something like that. Mummie is right outside."

Jason noticed that she wasn't objecting in principle to the idea; she wasn't saying no because she didn't want to do it.

"Just as she is watching me, I can watch her. She won't be able to see you over there." He paused and then smiled. "Only I can see you."

Bridget smiled. With that smile Jason knew she would do it. Bridget did want to go further than before and this was perhaps among the safest ways to do it. She could let him see her under her sweater without any fear of things getting out of hand, as he couldn't, or at least wouldn't, leave the chair. 

"Golly Jason, really, I don't know. I mean, right here, in my bedroom?" She was looking down at the coverlet, fingering one of the poodles. He could see her pink tennis shoes kicking under the wide skirt as she nervously considered what to do.

"I won't tell anyone," Jason joked.

Bridget laughed. "Golly, I hope not." She could feel her little heart patter with the thought of doing it. She did want to make Jason happy. "You'll stay in the chair?"

"On my honor," he replied.

She looked at the window. While sitting on her bed, she could only see trees through the window. Her mother would not be able to see her from the garden. She looked back at Jason and smiled bashfully. She stood up, turned around, and reached for the hem of her sweater. She pulled it up.

She stopped just as she was about to pull it over her head. She went over to the vanity, being careful not to seen from the window. She took her time getting it over her head. She didn't want to mess up her hair. When she was finished she carefully folded the sweater, placed it on the vanity, and fixed her hair. Jason watched with considerable pleasure as she carefully combed and patted her waves. He couldn't see anything, although the sight of her bare back, shoulders, and bra strap was awfully exciting. It was like he was peeking into her bedroom as she was getting dressed in the morning. She turned to face him, her arms crossed in front of her to protect her modesty. She sat back down on the bed and dropped her arms.

The wait for her to get the sweater off was worth it. She was wearing a thin cotton lavender bra, speckled with little red flowers and trimmed with white frilly lace. It hugged her breasts closely but clearly didn't provide much support. It was not a functional bra. It's purpose was more to flatter and flirt. Bridget's young, firm breasts didn't need any support anyway.

"Do you like it Pookie? It's new."

"It's beautiful, Bridget. It fits the room." That just slipped out. "But, it fits you so much better."

"Thank you, sweety." She leaned back and thrust out her chest. Her breasts were not large but they were firm and delightfully round. Her nipples were poking hard through the thin fabric. Undressing for Jason in her bedroom was quite exciting for her. She turned her shoulders left and right, showing off her boobies with a big grin on her face.

Jason became rock hard. His lips went dry. He licked them. His eyes were wide open as he gazed at her breasts. True, they were still clad within her bra, but it was such an alluring bra that it only accentuated the sexiness of her titties. And, he had never gone this far with her before. Bridget was actually letting him see her in her bra. He crossed his legs, trying to hide himself from her. He then thought about Mrs. Johnson. "I better check on your mother."

It was difficult, very difficult, to turn his attention away from those lavender titties and sweet smile, but he had to do it.

Jason looked out the window. She was in the garden. She was on her knees busily digging for weeds. Seeing the mother, however, did not dampen his arousal, as her breasts were also quite evident. The t-shirt was really quite tight and her humongous breasts were jiggling as she dug. It was even a bit of a wet t-shirt with her building perspiration. If he didn't have an even better show right in front of him he would not have minded spending the afternoon watching Mrs. Johnson garden. She stopped digging and looked up at the window. Their eyes connected. She straightened her back, her breasts wiggling. Mrs. Johnson did not appear to be self-conscious about it. She just smiled and waved at him. He smiled, waved back, and turned his attention back to the breasts of her daughter.

Bridget was watching him apprehensively, biting on a finger, her breasts still looking so lovely in the lavender bra. "Is mummie still there?"

He smiled reassuringly, "Not a problem there."

She smiled in return, a bit of a tease in her expression. "Well then, let's get to studying." She turned her attention to the math book on the bed. She giggled as she opened it and placed it on her lap. This was really kind of fun. "Let's see now, we were suppose to work on finding simultaneously both the third and fourth variables."

Jason took the cue to pick up his book. As he opened it in his lip, he realized that he could use it to hide his hand as he shifted his erection to a more comfortable and perhaps less revealing position.

Studying like this was probably not recommended by the school board, but they grew to feel that it actually worked. Normally they would soon become bored and would distract themselves by talking about, well, just about anything other than the homework. Studying with Bridget wearing just a bra and a skirt provided a nice visual distraction, along with a motivation to continue. Bridget was in fact surprised how much she was enjoying it. She liked catching Jason staring at her boobies. She would scold him when he did, remind him that he was to keep his eye on her mother, but she was very flattered at his inability to resist looking at her. She would in fact encourage him by occasionally fixing the position of a bra strap, casually scratching an itch that caused a tittie to jiggle, and checking to see if the cups were positioned well. Being the center of his attention like this was very appealing. It really made studying worthwhile.

"Pookie," she asked innocently while looking down at her left tittie, "You can't see my nipples through this can you?" She looked at him, smiling innocently as she waited for his answer.

Jason wasn't too sure what the right answer should be. He could in fact see a bit of her nipples; certainly the outline as well as the signs of a dark nub beneath the thin, tight fabric. "No, um, no, I think it's fine."

"Well good, I do wonder if this bra is too revealing." She started to rub and tweak her nipple. "And, you see, when they perk up like this they push out the fabric even harder." When she got both of her nipples to stiffen, she leaned back and thrust out her chest. "See, Jason?"

He did indeed see. The book slipped away from his lap.

"They're poking out all stiff, just like your thing is doing right now."

Jason blushed. He quickly returned the book to his lap.

"Jason, don't be embarrassed. I told you on the phone that it's fine with me if you get a boner. It shows me how much you like me." She swung her shoulders back and forth. His eyes tracked the movement of her breasts. "Now, Jason, you take that book away so I can see your stiffie like you can see mine."

Jason was entirely willing to do it. Just the thought of that phone call helped him to swell further. He could think of nothing better than to openly display his erection to Bridget. But, he also saw an opportunity. "I will, if you do one more thing." 

Bridget pretended that she was offended. "Jason. Haven't I done enough already?"

That was true, but as one savors the taste it only makes one want another sip. "Yes, but don't you think you're only half undressed?"

"I am wearing matching panties."

With that remark, Jason was dying to show her his erect cock. In fact, he would be happy to take it out right now, but keeping himself hidden was the only card he had to play.

Bridget, however, needed very little encouragement. Just thinking about showing him her panties was making her warm and wet between her thighs. 

"Alright," she said, quietly. "I'll do it, but you have to agree to let me see it." She gave him a little pout. She pretended to complain. "I can't believe I'm doing this for you."

She climbed off the bed, again checking to be sure that her mother couldn't see her from outside. She reached for the clasp on the side of her skirt. Her breasts pushed out and lifted up as she fumbled with the clasp. She eventually unhooked and pulled away the skirt. However, she first used the skirt to cover her entire body. She smiled flirtatiously at Jason as she held it to her body, now covering her bra as well as her panties. "What are you going to do for me, Pookie?"

"I won't give you a spanking," he teasingly replied.

"You won't if I let it drop, or you will? Maybe if I drop it I should get a spanking."

Jason just smiled. He didn't know what to say in response to that.

She repeated her demand. "You know what I want."

Jason moved the book away from his lap. The outline of the round bulb of the head of his cock was very clear, pushing out hard against his slacks. Jason felt a little self-conscious about just showing himself like this, sitting in front of Bridget displaying a gigantic hard-on, but he was also quite happy and proud.

Bridget smiled and let the skirt drop. She clasped her hands behind her behind and cocked her hips.

Jason fell in love again, or at least his dick swelled. Her panties did match her bra, and the lavender, trimmed with lace and speckled with little red flowers, was clinging tightly to the mound of her cunnie. He said quietly, reverently, "You're so pretty, Bridget."

"Do you really like them? My parents don't know I have any panties like these."

"Well, if you're a good girl I won't tell on you."

She tilted her head and swung her breasts back and forth. "You promise?"

"It'll be up to you. Now, let's get back to work."

She playfully stood at attention and saluted him in her bra and panties. "Yes sir." She sat back on the bed and picked up the math book. "You be sure to watch for mother."

He nodded and checked. She was still there, as were her breasts. The front of her t-shirt was now very moist with perspiration and he could see them jiggling and swinging as she dug away in the garden. She suddenly looked up at the window and Jason looked away in self-consciousness, not entirely sure which he was feeling guilty about, looking at the daughter or the mother.

As Bridget sat back down on the bed, her pencil rolled off the opposite side. She got up onto her hands and knees, and leaned down over the edge to retrieve it, her bottom rising up high, her panties stretching across her tender roundness, the little pouch of her cunnie poking out between her thighs. As she was struggling to reach it, Jason said, "Stay like that for awhile."

Bridget's blood was already running into her head as she was bent over the side of the bed, so she wasn't so clear whether she flushed with embarrassment as she held this pose, letting Jason stare at her upraised bottom, clad only in her flowery panties. She was glad she bought them though, and even gladder that she was getting such good use out of them. She didn't know what he was doing back there, as he wasn't saying anything, but it made her very excited to think of him staring at her. She knew the way she was displayed was very naughty, like she was offering herself to him.

"Alright, you can sit back down."

Bridget giggled as she turned around on the bed. She asked playfully, "Did you like that, Jason?" She didn't wait for a reply. She instead pointed at his erection. "I guess your stiffie did like that, didn't you."

He smiled.

She playfully needled him. "Pookie has a big boner, doesn't he."

"Very funny," he replied.

She found that she couldn't take her eyes off the bulge. It looked so big, so strong. She wanted to touch herself, but she couldn't in front of Jason. She said quietly, "Take it out."

"What?" It was Jason's turn to be surprised.

"You heard me."

Jason looked out the window. Mrs. Johnson was leaning back on her haunches, taking a bit of respite from her work. She looked up at the window and smiled as she caught Jason's eye, looking back at her. She waved up to him. Her breasts notably shook and rolled as she waved with considerable energy. Jason's eyes went to them as he returned her wave. He didn't stay there long, as he understood that women could tell when men were looking at their breasts by the direction of their eyes. This was so far away though that she probably hadn't noticed.

Mrs. Johnson had noticed the change in the direction of his eyes. She didn't mind. She even leaned a bit farther back and thrust them out for him, although not so obviously that he could tell that she was doing it intentionally. They were so tightly wrapped by her t-shirt; the nipples were themselves snuggly outlined by the wet, thin fabric.

Jason nervously looked back to Bridget.

She was also smiling at him. "She doesn't suspect a thing, does she?" It was kind of neat to be sitting there, showing Jason her bra and panties, while her mother was watching him. She asked quite quietly, and deferentially, "Jason, please unzip your pants for me."

Jason slid the book between himself and the window ledge. He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he unzipped his pants, unclasped his belt, and undid the trouser clasp. He reached inside and withdrew his erection through the flap in his boxers.

"Oh my," Bridget exclaimed. She was very impressed, and excited. It looked just like she had seen in the pictures, but now so much more thrilling in real life. And, it was so big! It just towered out through Jason's fly, like a big truncheon or battering ram. "Golly, Pookie, you really are big."

Jason knew that wasn't true, but he wasn't about to correct her. He just enjoyed the flattery. It did seem though to swell even further as it escaped the confines of his slacks and entered into the open air.

Bridget particularly liked the big round bulb at the end. It looked so swollen, so red, maybe even purple. She felt an urge to touch it, to maybe even kiss it, but she knew she shouldn't. She said, very quietly, "You can play with it if you want, Jason. You know I said it was ok."

Jason would be more than happy to do so. He had fantasized about beating off in front of her, letting her see him get harder and bigger, and then have her all surprised and impressed as he burst out blasts of cum. This wasn't his only fantasy, but it was the only one he was now in fact close to experiencing.

He looked back out the window. Mrs. Johnson's attention was focused again on her azaleas. Maybe he could this? But, no, it was too risky. He turned back to Bridget. "I can't. She'll notice. I mean, you know." He rolled his eyes in embarrassment as he mimicked the movement of his hand and arm while he masturbated.

Bridget put a hand to her mouth and giggled. "Jason, I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh." She did understand. She didn't really know what a boy might look like when he masturbated, but she wouldn't doubt that perhaps it did require quite a bit of hand and arm movement.

She slid off the bed, got down on her hands and knees, and looked out the window to check that she couldn't be seen. "Maybe I can help you." She slowly crawled over to him on her hands and knees, her eyes fixed on his, a mischievously, flirtatious gleam in her eyes.

Jason looked out the window to be certain Mrs. Johnson was still there. She gave him another wave. He smiled back, just as Bridget reached his feet.

He looked down at Bridget in between his legs. She was looking up at him behind his waving hard cock with those large, round green eyes, Sandra Dee hairdo, and dimpled cheeks.

She giggled. "What are you thinking?"

"How beautiful you look." He was indeed thinking how pretty she looked posing behind his stiff, hard cock in her lavender bra and panties, but he thought best not to add that.

"Stop it, Jason, you embarrass me." Her cheeks did in fact flush, although she was also very flattered. She brought her eyes to his cock. She sighed at the sight of its stiff glory, at least it appeared that way to her. She had never imagined it would look so strong, so powerful. She got up higher on her knees to get a closer look, being careful not to get up so high that her head would appear in the window. "I think I like it, Jason," she said, reaching out to wrap her girlish hand around its masculine girth.




Jasons and the Johnsons



Jason sighed at the sight and feel of her little, feminine hand on his staff. His instinctive reaction was to close his eyes and drop back his head in pleasure, but there would be no way that Mrs. Johnson would consider that to be studying. He once again looked outside.

Mrs. Johnson was already looking at him and caught his eye as soon as he turned his head. This time he seemed to have a rather silly grin on his face. She thought, 'The little scamp is trying to get a peek at my breasts.' She smiled up at him and pretended to brush off some dirt from her t-shirt. What she was doing instead was playing with her nipple, which further stiffened. She hoped he could see it all the way from the upstairs window. She looked away from him, leaned back and thrust out her chest, pretending to be stretching her tired muscles. She then looked back at him, catching him staring at her breasts. He quickly turned away. She decided to have a little more innocent fun. She turned around and used her gardening shear to start a tear in the t-shirt, right above her left nipple.

When the nipple was exposed she played with a bit, getting it nice and perky, thinking of the dream she had of Jason. She didn't feel that enough of her nipple was showing though, as the window was quite far away, so she tore the t-shirt a bit more. Now her breast poked right out and a significant proportion would fall right through when she bent over. Now Jason won't want to leave the window.

She turned back around to pull more weeds. As she did she glanced up to the window. Jason wasn't looking out. But, she would be patient. He didn't seem to stay away too long.

Jason's mind was on something else. He was looking at Bridget's hand sliding up and down his shaft. His sweet little Bridget was jerking him off. He had not been expecting that when he had come to her house, not for a long time in the future had he expected this.

She smiled up at him. "Am I doing it ok, Pookie?"

"You're doing great, Bridget," he replied, somewhat breathlessly.

"Goodie," she replied. "It feels neat in my hand, Pookie. Your stiffie, like, it's so hard, but, you know, the top part, here," she tapped the head of his cock with the fingers of her left hand, "it's all kind of soft like." She circled her fingers around and around the head, feeling the soft curves of the swollen bulb. She ran her finger underneath and along the corona.

She was surprised at how much she was enjoying this. It was kind of exciting to be holding onto, to be playing with, an erect penis. She thought, 'How silly it was to wait this long.' She leaned down toward it. She wanted to see what it smelled like. She sniffed the bulb. It seemed to have a sort of musky, masculine smell, but also some kind of tangy scent. It was perhaps some of Jason's pre-cum. She rubbed the soft head with her perky nose. "I'm giving it an eskimo kiss." She giggled at her joke. 

She lingered there for awhile, resting her nose against the head. She then turned her head and caressed her face with his cock, drawing it slowly across her cheek, her closed eyes, down her other cheek, across her nose again, and then down to her lips. She sighed as she circled the tip of his cock with puckered lips.

He could feel her breath on his cock, her lips on the tip of his dick, the soft lips with which she said so many sweet things to him, laughed with such joy, and kissed him so affectionately. He felt an urge to cum right then, to squirt his hot, wet jism on her lips. He knew, however, that she would not like that at all, and the last thing he wanted to do was to make this experience unpleasant for her. However, he wasn't entirely sure he could control when he would cum, and he knew that if she kept this up, it would not be much longer when that inevitable rush of pleasure would overwhelm him.

He looked back outside to try to distract himself. "Oh my gosh," he exclaimed as soon as he saw her. She must have caught her t-shirt on a thorn or something. Mrs. Johnson's boob was sticking out of her t-shirt. The tear was so large that the nipple, areola, and even a bit of white boob flesh was literally hanging out while she was digging, the end of her tit wiggling and jiggling as she worked the dirt, her nipple stiff in the air. He was shocked. He was looking right at the bare nip of Bridget's mother. "Oh my gosh," he exclaimed again.

Bridget pulled away from his cock. "Now be quiet, Pookie," she scolded. "Mummie will get suspicious." She looked up at him. She giggled at his aroused and distraught expression. "And, try not to look so goofy," she scolded, but she liked the fact that she was making him so excited. She looked at him with her large green eyes, her lashes fluttering, her hand holding hard onto his cock. "Are you keeping an eye on mummie so that she doesn't catch me playing with your thing?"

"Yes, yes," he exclaimed, trying to maintain his composure. He wondered if he should tell Bridget that he could see her mother's tit. He felt guilty about enjoying the fact that he saw her mother's nipple while Bridget was handling his cock, but he also did not want to interfere with this moment. He did love Bridget, and this was indeed a special moment for them. His cock grew harder. He could see the head swell with his passion. It was now twitching in her hand. Her sweet hand felt so much better than his own, and she looked so adorable, so sexy, kneeling between his legs.

Bridget gripped his cock even more tightly. She drew her fist up and down its length. She heard Jason groan with pleasure. She used her other hand to massage the tip with her palm. She circled her palm around and around the purple bulb as her other hand moved up and down the shaft.

Jason spread his legs further, slid forward, and reached for her. He reached out and caressed her cheek. "Bridget," he whispered, "It's going to happen."

This made Bridget all the more excited. She breathlessly exclaimed, "Hold my breasts, Pookie." He could only do so with one hand without giving too much away to her mother, but it was more than enough for the both of them. Bridget was ecstatic. She was going to make Jason cum. She was going to make his thing shoot its white liquid all over the place. She reached down between her legs with her left hand. She hoped that he wouldn't notice, but she just had to touch herself. She would at least keep her fingers outside of her panties, but she did press them against her cunnie. Enjoying the feel of his hand grasping, clutching, squeezing her tittie as she pushed hard against her clit, rubbing and massaging it with a rapid, circular movement.

Jason did not in fact notice what she was doing. He was way too distracted by the sight of her pretty face so close to his hard cock, by the sight of her precious titties encased within the soft, flowered lavender brassiere, by the feel of her tittie through the thin fabric of her bra, by the sight and feel of her clenched hand moving up and down his cock, now much more so rapidly, with an urgency and intense passion, the sweet hand of his girlfriend, jerking so hard on his cock.

"Keep an eye on mummie," Bridget warned, as her own eyes were fluttering with her passion, waiting anxiously to watch her boyfriend explode his fury.

Jason obediently glanced again at Bridget's mother, just as she looked up at him from the garden. She smiled at him, with the tip of her tit poking out of her t-shirt and a playfully teasing expression on her face. She straightened her back and pushed out her chest. The weight of her chest, as well as the weakening, flimsy fabric, caused the hole in her t-shirt to open further and much of her boob fell out. She looked down in surprise. Almost her entire left tit was exposed. She glanced back to Jason. She had wanted to give him a little peek, purportedly outside of her own awareness, but there was no way she could pretend to be unaware of this.

Jason did indeed see. Bridget's mother's huge breast flopped right out before his eyes.

Mrs. Johnson dropped her trowel and placed her dirty gloved hands over her left boob, squashing it against her. She looked up at him, her face awash with intense embarrassment. Jason's eyes seemed to be awash with arousal. 'Oh my goodness,' she thought. She clearly went too far. She quickly stood, trying to keep her breast hidden from his view, which was difficult as she got to her feet.

Jason exclaimed, "Bridget, your mother!" just as his cock exploded in her hand.

Cum started shooting, gushing out in thick loads. Waves of pleasure swept over him, his face was awash with excitement, passion, and shock.

Mrs. Johnson saw the passion, perhaps even lust, in Jason's face. "Oh my!" she exclaimed as she gathered a couple of tools and rushed to the house.

Bridget did not pull back. She was swept away by her own paroxysm of pleasure. She just knelt there, clutching her convulsing cunt, enjoying the sight of Jason's white gushers bursting from the round bulb of his dick, shooting up into the air, splashing onto the floor, onto her shoulder, onto her chest, staining her bra, and even onto her face. She just basked in the feel of the hot wet splashes rained across her body as her own orgasm swept her away.

Jason turned to Bridget and enjoyed the sight as well. Ropes of white cum were lashed across her body. Her face was splattered with splashes of cum, some of it dripping down across her cheeks, her nose, and chin in thick gobs, gaining speed as they went, picking up more juice as they worked down her face. Her hair was even hit; her Sandra Dee spotted with cum. He had never felt an orgasm as intense as this. It seemed like there was an endless eruptions of cum.

When he was done he slowly regained his senses. He smiled apologetically at Bridget, as she was drenched in his juices. She did not, however, appear to mind. She as well had a blissful look. She smiled warmly. "I made you make a terrible mess, didn't I Pookie," she said proudly, cum dripping from her face onto her bra, her hand soaked in his sticky fluid.

"You sure did," he replied breathlessly. She was such a pretty girl, and she seemed all the more attractive with her face splattered with cum.

Bridget rose up on her knees. She pulled him down toward her and gave him a big kiss.

He could smell the scent of his cum on her face, as well as taste a bit of it on her lips.

They both heard the sound of Bridget's mother coming up the stairs.

Bridget pulled back in shock and fright. She quickly got up and dashed back across the room toward the bed. Jason was busy getting his cock back into his pants, but he didn't miss the opportunity to admire the sight of Bridget's bottom swinging rapidly to and fro. He was again reminded of how pretty her bottom looked in the flowered panties. He knew what he would get her for Valentine's day.

She first went for her skirt. She quickly got it around her waist and fastened. As she was heading for her sweater her mother appeared in the door. Bridget clutched her sweater against her chest in a fruitless effort to hide the fact that she was all but naked beneath it. She did not seem to appreciate that her face being covered in cum was much more problematic.

Her mother, however, didn't look in. She was herself clutching the front of her t-shirt, hiding the fact that if she did not her breast would fall out. She didn't even look in, as she felt too self-conscious about, once again, catching Jason's eye. She just said as she rushed past the door, "There's cookies downstairs. I'll be in the shower."

Jason and Bridget looked at each other in surprise and relief. They both grinned, knowing how fortunate they were. Jason got up and walked over to her. Bridget dropped her sweater, showing him once again her sweat lavender breasts, her nips still poking proudly through the thin, soft fabric.

He brought out a handkerchief from his pocket to helped clean her face. "Bridget, I'm sorry, but I think some got in your hair."

"Oh my!" she gasped and dashed to the vanity mirror. But, once she arrived she had to giggle. The mess on her face was much worse. "Well, it is an unusual highlighter." She turned to him as she dabbed her face with a pink hankie. "I liked watching you do it, Jason," she whispered in guilty pleasure.

"I liked watching you do it too," he admitted, feeling a bit awkward himself.

"I'm sorry that you had to watch mummie."

"I liked watching her daughter a lot more."

"Next time I'll watch mummie and you can watch me."

He wasn't quite sure what she was suggesting, but he knew he would look forward to it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

I hope you liked it. Once again, I am very open to suggestions for how to improve my stories. In any case, please do take the time to vote!