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Borrower

By: Ashson



Don't you hate people who are borrowers? I don't mean the guy who borrows ten bucks that he may or may not pay back, or the housewife who runs next door for a cup of sugar. I mean the guy who borrows your hammer and fails to return it, so when you need it you've got to hunt him down and get it. And you can't use your lawnmower, because he's borrowed that, and when you went and got it, it was out of fuel.

That's George. He's a nice enough chap. Reasonably handsome, or so the women say, reasonably intelligent and with a great deal of charm. It's that blasted charm that lets him get away with borrowing things from everyone instead of buying his own stuff. Speaking personally, I've had it with George and his borrowing.

Being a neighbour, and one of his main victims, I was invited to a barbecue that George was holding one evening. The main reason I went was to make sure that he returned my barbecue at the end of the night. He's just as likely to lend it to someone else, as he is to return it.

I didn't currently have a partner but at a barbecue this didn't make much difference. The men would congregate in one area and the women in another, and seldom the twain did meet. 

A public occasion like this was also one of the few times that we'd get to see Jennifer, George's wife. George says she's shy and doesn't like to come out much. I suspected that she's someone else's wife that he borrowed and forgot to return. All joking aside, I have met her before, but only for a moment or two. The one thing I knew about her was that she had a sensational figure. Lucky George, in this area, anyway.

The evening ground on. Wandering around the edge of the crowd I happened to come across Jennifer, for a short time all by herself. I said hi to her, and then had to remind her of who I was. Very flattering to my ego, not. I managed to get her talking, and it was hard work. 

After a while it started to dawn on me that Jennifer wasn't shy so much as she was just rather dumb. It seemed that every opinion she had was one that George had given her. I coaxed her to walk around the yard with me, pointing out that I was a neighbour and that we should get to know each other.

At one point I happened to mention that the barbecue that George was using was mine. Jennifer seemed to approve of this.

"George likes borrowing things," she told me. "He says that people own too much stuff and it gets under-used. By borrowing things, George helps to get these things used the way they should be and we don't have a lot of clutter around the place. George says borrowing is a good way of having things only when you need them."

"That's an unusual philosophy," I said. "Most people like to own things. I take it George doesn't really believe in exclusive possession of things."

"No. He says it just helps the capitalist pigs get rich. Everything should be shared, with no owners."

It suddenly occurred to me that by chance we'd drifted into a little section of the yard that was shielded of from the main yard by an overgrown hedge. George probably hadn't been able to borrow some hedge trimmers. Seeing we were reasonably private, I decided to explore George's borrowing philosophy.

"I take it then that George is also eager to lend anything of his that someone might want to borrow?"

Jennifer nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, he does. We don't actually own much but people are free to borrow it if they need it."

"And that goes for you?"

Jennifer nodded again. "Of course. I'd lend anything. I don't mind."

"Then neither of you would mind if I borrowed you for a short time," I said with a grin.

Jennifer blinked. "Um, I guess not, but why would you want to borrow me?"

"Well," I said, idly reaching out and cupping her breast, thumb rubbing against where her nipple should be, "I'm currently without a girlfriend and missing her personal company. Maybe you could fill in for a short while."

Jennifer looked adorable when she was confused. 

"Um, you mean as a girlfriend?"

I trailed my hand over to her other breast and started to rub lightly.

"That's right. You feel nice under my touch and I'd really like to touch you some more. Hasn't George ever lent you to a friend?"

Jennifer shook her head, puzzled at the idea. Then her face brightened.

"Oh, I know what you mean. George sometimes lends himself to Sally Hartwood when her husband is out of town. You mean something like that."

George and Sally? That was interesting.

"Yes, something like that," I agreed.

Jennifer smiled, puzzle solved. Then her face fell again. "I don't really have time to go over to your place to help," she said sadly. "George likes me to stay home."

"That doesn't matter," I consoled her. "I can borrow you right here for a few minutes."

"You can?" 

I nodded. "Watch."

I lifted the front of her dress and, taking hold of her panties, drew them down. Then I started massaging her pussy. Jennifer looked surprised, but not shocked.

"Do you do that with your girlfriend?" she asked.

I nodded. "And more."

Jennifer stayed there while I massaged her, her breath getting harder. She started when I slipped a finger between her lips and into her passage.

"That's alright, isn't it?" I asked.

She nodded. 

"I thought it would be. My girlfriend used to like it. But she always wanted me to use my cock instead of my hand. Like this."

I'd unzipped and now I moved my erection into position, pressing up between her legs. Jennifer's eyes were wide open now and she was staring hard at me.

"Are you sure George won't mind me borrowing you for this?" I asked, feeling my cock edging into her.

"George say we should always lend what we can," gasped Jennifer, and I was pleased to find her pushing down, helping my cock penetrate her.

Then I was in and starting to stroke her, pushing deep with each thrust while she pressed down hard to take me.

"Your husband is mighty generous," I told her, "and so are you. This is just what I've been needing."

"Not, not a problem," Jennifer gasped. "I'm pleased that I can help."

That would have been a polite little line if it hadn't been spoiled by a groan and a plea for me to do it harder. I, of course, did the right thing. If you borrow something you should take proper care of it.

And taking proper care is just what I did. I thrust into Jennifer hard, not rushing but not drawing it out, either. I drove her rapidly towards a climax, pumping her hard. Jennifer stayed with me, matching me, driving me upward just as surely as I was lifting her.

Jennifer was making little eager squeaky sounds and I guessed her climax was coming up fast. I clamped one hand on her bottom and one on the back of her head as I kissed her while driving forcefully home.

She bit my lip when she climaxed. I'm pretty sure it was accidental. She told me afterwards that she tends to put her hand in her mouth at that stage to stifle screams. I have to say getting bitten added an odd fillip to the occasion, and it sure didn't stop me having my own climax.

We drifted back to the barbecue. We were standing on the edge of the crowd again when George wandered up. I nodded to him.

"Just been borrowing you wife for a few moments," I told him. 

He nodded. "Not a problem," he said. "I'm always borrowing stuff myself."

I nodded agreeably and he continued making his rounds.

Borrowing a Dress



I can't believe that I'm celebrating the 20th anniversary of being Andrea's neighbor. It's not something typically celebrated. It is nice to have a neighbor for a long period of time, but since we've been such close neighbors, a celebration of 20 years of coffee together in the morning is so fitting and so precisely correct for us. 

It was that long ago that Andrea moved next door to us with her husband Paul and their daughter. It was perfect since their daughter was the same age as our daughter and they would be going to school together. They would be in the same class and ride the same bus to school. Having next-door neighbors ride the bus was extra convenient since it guaranteed that the bus would stop at the end of our driveway, making the trip to the bus stop as short as possible. Gathering at the bus stop each morning provided the opportunity to get to know Andrea a few minutes at a time. 

Since I am a real estate agent, my schedule is generally pretty flexible in the morning. I could leisurely hang out at the bus stop after getting the kids ready, taking a cup of coffee out to the curbside. Andrea has the same flexibility; she is a local attorney, working in the family office doing fairly easy work. Some property transactions, wills, simple contracts, etc. were her main business items. Very little is ever so pressing that it kept her from having a similarly leisurely morning. While time has passed and our children are grown, we've continued to have the ease of no time pressures on most days. 

So, it was over those morning chats 20 years ago that we got to know each other. As the school year started, we would all gather on the curb. Our daughters talked and quickly becoming friends, Andrea and I sipping our coffee and similarly building a friendship. We talked about the other neighbors, cooking dinner, occasionally there would be a work topic and we would share complaints about some other real estate agent or attorney involved in property transactions. Nothing like a little professional gossip over morning coffee with the chance to complain about those crazies that we dealt with every day. 

In the middle of the second week of school, all the parents received an invitation to an "end of summer, get to know the other parents" dance at school. While the school thought they were doing us all a favor by giving us an evening out from the kids, I actually believed the real purpose of the evening was to give all the high school kids a baby-sitting assignment. There were usually enough good babysitters to go around, but on the nights when everyone needed somebody, most had to go to their second or third choices if they didn't call quickly enough. The day after we received the invitation, I commented to Andrea that I'd need to find a dress for the evening but that I'd been quick enough to line up my favorite babysitter as soon as I saw the announcement.

As we were talking about the dance, our daughters asked if they could have a sleep-over sometime soon. Andrea and I immediately agreed to that idea, proposing the Saturday evening of the big dance. Andrea's concern about finding a babysitter on this side of town was immediately addressed. In return for sharing my babysitter, she offered to share one of her dresses. She told me that she had too many dresses for events like this and couldn't wear them all to this dance. 

I'd never done more that take a quick glance at Andrea's body as the attractive women moving in next door. As she suggested sharing a dress, I took another look, thinking about imagining how our bodies compared to gauge if I could wear one of her dresses. As I looked at her body, I was suddenly struck by her breasts, something that had never happened as we had spoken on any previous day. She wasn't wearing a bra. I'd never noticed that she would be bra-less at our morning bus stop gatherings, but this day, I saw that. I didn't know if it was just that this was the first time I'd noticed or if she generally was dressed that way. As I thought about it, I just assumed that she had gotten dressed a little more quickly than usual in needing to get her daughter ready for school. I also wondered what kind of pervert I had become, noticing that another woman wasn't wearing a bra. 

But, more importantly, it did give me a good look at her chest and upper body. Her body was similarly sized to mine, so borrowing a dress just might work. All I'd need to navigate was the potential that our taste in dresses was so different that I'd have to decline the offer and be embarrassed to tell her I didn't like any of her dresses. 

I couldn't stop focusing on her bra-less chest. Once I had it in my mind, it was all I could think about as we talked. Did she do that on purpose? Why would she do that, I'd never looked at her chest before so why was she showing it off to me. Was she showing it off to me? I'd never been attracted to women. I had no such experience in my entire life and her I was, fixated on another woman's body. 

Luckily, the bus came and loading up the kids changed my focus. No longer was I worried about Andrea, I was worried about my daughter leaving her lunch on the curb. They climbed aboard the bus. The driver gave his usual morning greetings to us as we reminded him to drive carefully, as if the thought had never occurred to him before that moment. As he did every morning, he assured us that he would be careful and wished us a good day. Amid the usual shouts of see you soon, the bus doors closed and the kids headed off to school, leaving Andrea and I standing along at the curb. With a smile, she turned to me and said that she would make a fresh pot of coffee for us to enjoy as I went dress shopping in her closet. I told her that I would be right over.  

I went into my house for a moment to clear my head. I also hoped that she would use the time before I went over to put on a bra so that I wouldn't be tempted to embarrass myself by staring at her breasts. I couldn't imagine what I was doing, looking at her like a teenage boy who had never seen a woman's breasts before. I most certainly knew what my own looked like and I'd seen many women topless in the locker room at the fitness center. But, as I thought about going and sitting with Andrea having coffee and then looking at her dresses, I didn't need to look at her that way. 

I walked over to her house and knocked on the outer screen door. I heard her yell for me to come in, that she was in the kitchen still working on making the coffee. I went in through the living room and into the kitchen. I had to suppress a gasp when I looked at Andrea. Not only had she not put on a bra under her shirt, she had taken off the warm-up suit jacket she had been wearing. Her bra-less look was now more pronounced. Her sleeveless t-shirt was not so thin that her breasts were fully visible, but the thin fabric showed off her chest quite well. The outlines of nipples showed somewhat as the nipple tips pressed against the fabric. I had felt like a young boy staring before and now I was wondering how I could keep from looking like a horny teenager getting his first eyeful. 

Andrea was very nonchalant about how she was exposing herself to me. I tried not to look, but she was giving me an eyeful. I'd never felt that familiar stirring of arousal due to another woman before, but I was feeling a bit of a tinge that morning. As she finished making the coffee and turned to me again, she walked to me and put her hand on my arm. She thanked me for coming over and making her feel so welcome in the neighborhood. She told me how good it made her feel that I would consider borrowing a dress, just having a neighbor and friend come over was great. She told me that I didn't need to worry about liking the dresses, her feelings wouldn't be hurt if I didn't want to get into her clothes. All I could think of was that expression. For some reason, I was feeling something that I'd never felt. I wanted to get into the clothes she was wearing, not even considering what was in her closet. My mind was so confused. I was happily married. Happily satisfied with my sex life...a life filled by my husband. A man. Not a woman. 

I thought to myself; focus on the coffee, the conversation, not her breasts. Of course, the more I thought of not looking at her breasts, the more I looked. She poured us both coffees. She told me that she liked her coffee creamy and asked how I liked mine. What a question. There wasn't an easy answer. All I could tell her was that yes that sounded good to me also. 

She sat on the sofa in the family room, coffee in hand. She crossed her legs and the gym shorts she was wearing rode up her legs, showing off her toned thighs. Oh great, I thought to myself, now I have her legs to look at also. As we sipped our coffee, she asked what kind of dresses I liked. We talked about the summer dresses that would be good for an early September dance as I assumed that she'd go to her closet and bring me a few to take home to try on before deciding. Then she stood up and said that we should go to her bedroom to see the dresses so that I could choose one, or decide that I needed to go shopping. 

I nervously followed her to her bedroom. I was beginning to wonder what she was thinking. Did she notice my glances at her body? What did she think of that behavior? As I thought about it, I was certain that she hadn't noticed. If she had, why invite me to her bedroom. Why invite a woman staring at her body up to her private quarters. But, just like me, she was happily married with a husband to attend to her needs as she attended to his needs. 

Hanging over the edge of the closet were several dresses. "These are the dresses that I could most picture you wearing, so I set them out. Here, start with this dress." She handed me a dress and I looked around, thinking about where to go to undress and put on this dress, perhaps the adjoining bathroom. As I hesitated she said, "It is just us girls here, you can change in front of me. I don't mind." I knew that I couldn't decline and excuse myself so I pulled off my shirt and lowered my shorts, setting them on the chair. I slipped on the dress as quickly as possible, not wanted to show her my panties and bra too much. The dress looked great and fit perfectly. I was so relieved that I could accept the first dress, not having to undress too many more times. 

But, Andrea would hear nothing of that. Try them all on or you won't know which you like best, maybe one of the others would be better. So, off came the first dress. I stood there semi-naked as she took that dress, put it back on the hanger and then handed me a second to try. While it fit well and looked good, we both agreed that dress number one was better. Then the third dress was handed to me. As I stood there in my bra and panties, I looked at it. It was a halter dress. No way would it look right over my bra. Embarrassed at what I was feeling, I put it on over my bra. I looked in the mirror as Andrea began to laugh, "This one is meant to be worn without a bra, and it has one built in. It won't look right over a bra." She reached behind me and unhooked my bra. I pulled it off, trying to be discreet. Trying not to give Andrea a look. 

The dress fit perfectly once I had my bra off. It held me just right showing a bit of cleavage but not too much for a parents dance. The length showed some leg, but not too much. The cut was just right. I thought of how much my husband would like it. I knew that it was the kind of dress that would keep his attention all night, both at the dance and certainly after we got home. We agreed that this would be the dress for Saturday. I was tempted to keep it on, to wear it home rather than having to undress again. 

Then Andrea reached behind me and unzipped the dress. OK, let's get it hung up and get back to a second cup of coffee. I slipped the halter over my head and stepped out of the dress. I stood there in just my panties as she took the dress from me. I expected her to put it back on the hanger and give me a chance to get dressed. Instead, her arm was on my side. She tossed the dress to the chair and told me how good I looked. She was close to me as I told her that I wasn't that kind of a woman, that I wasn't into women. Her reply was quick, she'd seen me looking at her, seen my interest in her body. She told me that she was very interested in my body. "But you're married" I stammered. "So are you. Married, but interested." was her reply. I started to object, "but I've never..." as she cut me off with a kiss. Her arm on my back. Our lips met and we kissed. I tried to say it again, "but I've never..." She told me that there is always a first time for everything. That it didn't mean I couldn't go home to my husband. Having a coffee friend was OK, and she wanted to be my coffee friend. As she kissed me again, I felt her hand on my bare breast. I wanted to resist, to go home, but I couldn't. All I could do was kiss her back and then I did what I had been thinking while trying not to think it. I slipped my hand up her shirt and cupped her breast in my hand as we kissed. I massaged her soft mound and felt her hard nipple. Our kisses became more and more intense as we continued. Then she stepped back from me and pulled her shirt over head, revealing her sweet breasts. She gave me a full hug and for the first time I felt another woman's breasts tightly against mine. 

She stepped back again and pushed her shorts to the floor, leaving only her panties as she took my hand and led me to the bed. We kissed again next to the bed, our hot bodies pressing together tightly. Her mouth covered mine as I wondered what I was doing. When I had gotten out of bed that morning, I was totally into men...totally into my husband and having him in me but now I was with a woman and enjoying it greatly as she kissed me deeply and her hands slide into my panties, massaging my ass and pulling our pussies together. I felt her kneel in front of me, pushing my panties to the floor. I was now naked in front of her when only moments before, I was afraid she would catch a glimpse of my breasts. 

She stood up and pushed her own panties to the floor. She stepped out of them and we were both naked next to her bed. I could feel the juices of my incredible arousal filling my pussy as she kissed me. Andrea lowered me to the bed, pushing me onto my back in the middle of the bed. She slide her arms under my legs, extending them to toward the ceiling and over her shoulders as she joined me in the bed. Kneeling at the foot of the bed, her mouth moved to my pussy. I felt her hot breath on me as she kissed my aroused pussy. Her mouth met my pussy lips as she kissed, as she licked me. As she tasted my arousal. Her hands massaged my breasts as her lips parted my pussy lips, allowing her tongue to meet my aroused clit, swollen with the arousal from her kisses. I was dripping in anticipation of what she would do to me. I felt her tongue begin to circle my clit, licking around and around, licking up and down. My moans of pleasure filled the room as she sucked my clit in her mouth. I could feel the pleasure building in me. I could feel her mouth as she massaged my swollen, aroused clit. A hand moved from my breast and her fingers easily penetrated my juice filled opening. Her fingers massaged me inside while her mouth massaged my pussy and clit from the outside. Suddenly my body began to quiver and shake as my orgasm filled me with total pleasure. My moans turned to screams as she took me to heights of arousal I had never known. Her mouth greedily licked up my juices as they flowed from my orgasm...as my pussy felt total pleasure. 

At some point, she released me pussy from the grip of her lips and pulled her fingers from inside me. I was panting as my body tried to recover from the pleasure I had just felt. I couldn't talk as she looked at me with a smile on her face, wet and shiny with the cream of my orgasm. She moved up on my body and kissed me, spreading the taste of my orgasm on my lips. 

She looked at me and asked if that was what I was thinking of while staring at her breasts all morning. Was I thinking of the pleasure she would give me. I told her I didn't know why I was staring at her breasts, but I was glad that I had. She smiled and told me she was glad that I'd picked up her hint. She hadn't worn a bra to see how I would react and I'd done exactly what she'd hoped for. 

She looked at me and told me that it was her turn. It took me a second to realize what she meant. It was her turn for pleasure, her turn for me to learn to pleasure her body. I slide down her body. My lips found her breasts, I had to suck her nipples, lick them, and feel them. I played with her chest my hands and mouth. I'd stared at her and now I could explore what I had seen with my fingers and mouth. Her nipples hardened to my kisses. My tongue flicked and licked her points. I was enjoying sucking her fantastic breasts as much as she was enjoying me sucking her. Then I slide down her body, unsure of what to do, how to pleasure her...how to please her aroused and wet pussy. 

As my mouth found her pussy, my fingers spread her lips so that I could kiss her aroused inner pink flesh. She was so wet, so aroused, so wonderful to lick and suck. I didn't know what to do but then I thought, just do to her what would pleasure my own pussy, what would please me. I licked and sucked her. Kissed her aroused swollen, wet clit and sucked it into my mouth. I knew that I was pleasuring her by the moans that filled the room. She was becoming louder and louder as I sucked and licked her harder and deeper, filling her drenched pussy with my kisses. I pushed my fingers into her pussy. Pressed to find the most sensitive spots as her moans got louder and louder. I felt her hips push up to my face as her moans turned to screams and her body tensed. I fingered her hard as I sucked her orgasmic clit while she yelled in pleasure. 

I pulled my fingers from her pussy as her body fell back to the bed, her breathing as hard and labored as mine had been when I'd felt the same orgasmic delight. Andrea's orgasm had ignited my passion once again. I could feel the juices of arousal filling my pussy. I couldn't believe that only a short while before I was certain that I'd never have passion with a woman, that I was only noticing another woman, not lusting after her. Now, I was lusting after Andrea and lusting for the delights she could bring me. I crawled over the top of her, lowering my dripping pussy onto her mouth as I once again began to lick the sweet nectar of her orgasm from her pussy. I pushed my opening onto her mouth, the juices of my passion smearing onto her face as her tongue reached forward to receive me, as her mouth opened to suck in my rigid clit, aroused from the heat of our passion. I ground my pussy onto her face as she sucked and licked. I pushed my tongue deep into her dripping pussy to savor the sweetness of her arousal. 

As we licked and sucked each other, I felt the building climax within me. I felt the growing arousal of my hot and juicy pussy as I ground it into her sucking and licking mouth. I pulled on her pussy lips with my lips, sucking and licking to savor all of her juices. As I slipped my fingers into her, I felt her back arch up once again as her climax filled her body. The ripples of satisfaction filling Andrea's body as I felt myself reach the climax of my arousal as waves of orgasm rippled through my body.

We fell onto the bed. Both fully and completely satisfied from the session we'd enjoy. As we caught our breath, Andrea finally spoke first. "Do you think that dress will be good enough for Saturday, or should we try on some more dresses before then?" I smiled as I assured her that one can never be too thorough in exploring all available alternatives.



Borrowing Donna



This is a story from another satisfied fuck-buddy, who is our neighbor and good friend. He wanted to add his story to our site and relate his first time joining in our lifestyle. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed the double-fucking I received from Brian and Scott!

Donna

**************************

The Trailer

I needed to borrow a utility trailer for a quick haul over the mountain to my cabin. I noticed the neighbor behind my house had one in their yard. I found out his name from another neighbor friend of mine and called him. He agreed to loan it to me as a good will gesture. I worked out the details with Scott, telling him I would pick it up on Friday. He said he would be working, but his wife, Donna, would be there to help me. He mentioned that she would have to give me the registration and insurance card. 

Donna greeted me at the door on Friday afternoon in a bikini top and cutoffs. She is just 5'2" tall, but has a lithe little body, long blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail, large D-cup titties, a very pronounced athletic ass and great smile. I thought she must be 25 or maybe 28, but I can never tell with older women. They can really be a lot older than they seem, and it turned out that Donna was actually 39 years old.

I commented that she must have been going to work out around the pool. She grinned and said that she needed to clean it for a pool-party the next day. I commented on her great body, and she replied that I looked pretty athletic also. She had seen my wife and I in our backyard around our pool and commented on how pretty my wife Kathy was. I told Donna that my wife was a flight attendant and kept her self in good shape. She then replied that Scott and she had once seen Kathy and me skinny-dipping in our pool late at night. 

Donna admitted that they had watched through the shrubs as we made love in the pool. Her face turned red as she said this. We stood at the door while we talked about the essentials on the trailer. She touched my arm as she passed the paperwork over to me. The smile on her face gave me an idea that she wanted me to think more of it, too. I had to leave early in the morning to get the load over to the job site at the cabin, so I did not pursue this possible invitation beyond a knowing smile.

Sunday afternoon I returned the trailer to their driveway and left a note indicating I would return that evening to pay for the use of the trailer. I cleaned up a little, grabbed a bottle of red wine, and headed for the neighbor's house. Scott was not there and Donna greeted me again at the door in those super short cutoffs and a tube top that barely held up her large breasts. The outfit delicately enhanced her shape (and bosom). She protested that I was not going to pay for the use of the trailer. 

She insisted that her husband had agreed to let me use it for free as a sign of neighborly friendship. I brought out the bottle asking if that meant that she could not enjoy a little wine with me. A big grin came over her face as she said that it would be nice. Almost like it was an after thought, she mentioned that she and Scott have an open marriage. She went on to say that he is gone so much on call-out, they barely get to see each other. It was like an invitation. The door was open! 

At 35 years old, I know when all I have to do is walk through. I asked if she had some glasses for the wine. She slipped into the kitchen after she directed me to the family room. In the corner was a huge wide screen TV, surround sound and all the other electronics needed for a perfect media room. She returned with the glasses and a small plate of cheese, crackers and summer sausage. We snacked as we discussed the great picture on her TV. I observed children's belongings on a table and she replied that they were away visiting their grandparents.

She became a little bolder as the wine took effect. She asked if I ever watch movies. I said, "Of course, what kind do you like?" She blushed when she said very quietly, "Erotic movies are best when you are alone. Have you ever watched any?" I said "Yes, I have seen a few." She asked sheepishly if I liked them. Emphatically, I answered, "Yes, I do. Does it help when you are 'alone?" She just blushed as red as a beet.

We sat there a couple minutes in awkward silence before she loaded a movie into the VHS player. I was surprised when the full-blown image of a well-known Eurasian beauty came on the screen being fucked hard by the biggest cock I had ever seen. I have had many erotic dreams fantasizing about this same gorgeous voluptuous porn star. The wide screen TV made it like she was in the family room with us getting it hard and fast from her lover. I got an immediate hard-on and could barely hide it from Donna. 

She seemed mesmerized by the images on the screen. After the action in the movie subsided, I asked her if this was her favorite movie, to which she haltingly answered, "Yes, very much. I just love the way she takes that big cock in her pussy. I always imagine that she can't take it all, but he just buries his cock deep and grinds it home in her pussy. I can cum just thinking about the feeling she must be getting from his cock." 

My mouth hung open. I must have had a stunned look on my face from the dirty talk from this seemingly prim and proper housewife and mother, because she smiled widely and asked what was wrong. I just stammered out something unintelligible. Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees in front of me and unbuttoned my jeans. I protested for a spilt second until her mouth enveloped my throbbing manhood in one gulp. I was getting a first class deep-throat hummer from the neighbor and loving ever second of it. She licked and sucked me with the precision and vigor that belied her mature age.

I tried to make small talk to help my concentration, but her skill intensified the pleasure taking me to the next level. I warned her I was close to cumming, but she ignored my protests to continue her licking and sucking. Before I knew it, I was shooting a huge load of sperm down her throat. She took every drop, swallowed it all and licked up the residue in no time flat. It was a wonderful cock draining mind-blowing blowjob! I knew it would take me a while to recover from that.

I pulled her to her feet and began to undress this tiny body in front of me. Her tube-top slipped off her shoulders easily. I pulled it down slowly to expose her large shapely breasts. They had a great set of nipples the size of large pencil erasers. I had to brush her ponytail back to get a nipple into my mouth. I helped her out of her cutoffs. Her pussy was still covered with a black thong. Her immediate reaction to my sucking and nibbling on her tit told me they were very sensitive. This would bear more fruit in the future. 

After just a few seconds of sucking on her nipples, her body began to shake uncontrollably. She moaned loudly and pulled away quickly. I held on, but she insisted I stop. She said her nipple was too sensitive for direct sucking. It surprised me that this woman could orgasm just from stimulating her nipples. She helped me take her thong off. She then stripped my clothes off in a matter of seconds.

Standing there in nature's own glory was this girlish figure of an older woman. She was not shy about her body and soon opened up to my gaze. A huge smile on my face must have revealed my approval. She began to dance seductively in front of me in a coquettish little jig from her younger days. I hope all of you can imagine the pure excitement I felt at this private exhibition of athletic prowess. She danced for a couple of minutes before falling into my arms and kissing me hard. "I need you to make love to me now!" 

We rolled on to the floor where I began to explore her lovely little body with my tongue and lips. She arched her back and shook every part of her. Her body convulsed in movements I could only imagine, before I took her into my arms. She was constantly moving and moaning uncontrollably with every kiss or lick I administered. It seemed that every part of her body was one huge erogenous zone. I could barely maintain my concentration.

She was a ball of fire. I finally found her tiny clean shaved pussy and dove into it with abandon. She screamed in a long continuous orgasm when I sucked her clit into my mouth. I had to hold on for dear life. She was like a caged animal. Every rock hard muscle in her body struggled to be free from my grasp. This was the most incredible sexual athlete I had ever been involved with. I licked down her legs to give her a brief respite and she calmed down somewhat. 

Upon my return upward as I grew closer to her swollen labia lips, she erupted in constant movement that prevented me from really getting a lip lock on that little jewel between her legs. Up and down, side-to-side she arched her back and flexed her abs to keep me searching for her pleasure center. I finally gave up and pulled her down until she was directly under me. The difference between our bodies made her seem even smaller and more delicate. 

I was careful not to put too much weight on her as I slipped my now throbbing cock into her diminutive little pussy. She arched her back, positioning herself to accept my thrusting shaft. I am just average size and girth, but I naturally thought she must have a tiny love canal to match her size. My cock slipped into her with no problem. Obviously she had no problem in handling large cocks. Her hands pulled on my back. She dug her nails deep into my back muscles. 

She insisted that I let all my weight down on her and pin her down. I outweighed her by more than 150 pounds, but she was able to buck me like I have never been moved before. It was an incredible ride. I tried to change her position to allow her more movement, but she insisted she loved being "crushed" by my weight. I stroked hard into her now sopping wet pussy for what seemed hours until she moaned and screamed she was cumming again. 

I felt her heels dig into the back of my legs as she exploded in climax. I was sure I must have crushed the life out of her when she lay still for just a second to savor the moment. Without warning, she literally bucked me off. I landed on my back with her on her feet standing over me. I could not believe her power and speed. She grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. We went to her patio where she grabbed a few items for the wicker swing suspended from the ceiling. I asked what they were for and she just said, "Lie down here, please!" 

I could not imagine what she had in mind so I was even more intrigued. I lay in the middle of the patio floor where she directed. She dropped to her knees again and started to give me another deep-throat tongue lashing blowjob. I felt my second load building in my groin. I told her that I was close again so she stopped. With incredible strength and grace, she slipped onto the swing chair and then suspended herself. 

In this spread eagle style, she was positioned with her pussy directly over my cock which was now standing straight and tall. Lowering herself onto my cock, she began to squeeze her buttocks and leg muscles to raise and lower her pussy on my cock. It was the most intense sexual experience I had ever experienced. Every muscle inside her vagina was pulling at my manhood on the upstroke and the released completely to allow her to fall back upon my cock. She became impaled balls deep on ever stroke and pulled my cock almost out of her on the upward grind. 

Remembering the intense pleasure she got from her nipples, I lightly pinched each of them between my fingers while I kneaded her huge breasts with my hands. It seemed to have no effect as she was in her total concentration mindset. I tried to match those incredible strokes with my hapless bucking bronco routine. She made me want to hold still to enjoy each stroke. 

It seemed like hours again before her actions brought the anticipated response. I shot a load so deep inside her that I thought would take a month of Sundays to drain out again. She came again when she felt my hot sperm seer the g-spot deep inside her. She did not relax her hold on my cock for several minutes. By then, I was waning fast and my white jism was dripping onto my groin from her pussy. She flipped over in the swing and suspended herself with her face over my groin. She licked my cock and lower belly until I was clean and dry. It was a joy to watch this ballerina of the apparatus as she performed her magic on me. 

I commented that she had to be in exceptional shape to do that. She said she had to do something while Scott was gone for hours at a time. I could barely move when I finally return to my house that night. Thank god my wife was flying at that time. Donna waves politely from her driveway or back patio when we see each other. At the store or Post Office, she gives me a polite hug but has never mentioned that night. I think I might have to borrow the trailer again to see if it was all just a dream.

**********************

It had been several months since I had noticed my backdoor neighbors, Donna and Scott, out in their yard. I called and waved to them both. Scott had been home a lot more lately since the children returned; it was obvious he was trying to be helpful with the children. I could not help but notice that Donna seemed much bigger on top. She still had her incredible body. 

I can never get enough of looking at that great little body of hers. Her tits were now a very full DD cup and it seemed she had not realized how large they had gotten. Her bra could not hold it all in, and she was pushing out the top of it, which created the most lovely defined cleavage. Or maybe she just liked showing off her full breasts!

Early the next afternoon, I was out back working on the weeds that plagued my yard when I saw Donna take their three girls to the car and drive off. I needed to borrow the trailer again for a load of logs over the mountain, so I slipped over to their house to talk to Scott. He greeted me at the door inviting me in for a beer. When I told him I needed the trailer again, he grinned from ear to ear. I asked what was so funny. He said, "You'll have to pay for what you got last time!" 

I almost fell out of the chair. What did he know about our little tryst and bottle of wine? He knew I was sweating bullets until he grinned again. He explained that Donna always tells him all about her "special" lovers. She told him that she had been particularly pleased with our lovemaking session. I started to breathe again when he asked if I could stay until Donna returned from dropping off their girls at her sister's house. 

Scott explained that Donna was getting really horny and wanted to "get fucked really hard and long" (and that's a direct quote). It shocked me but I was grinning. It brought me back to our evening tryst when she used her "hanging" apparatus to screw me into the matt on their patio. (Just so you get a sense of what I was remembering......With incredible strength and grace, she suspended herself until she was positioned with her pussy directly over my cock, which was now standing straight and tall. 

Lowering herself onto my cock, she began to squeeze her buttocks and leg muscles to raise and lower her pussy on my cock. It was the most intense sexual experience I had ever experienced. Every muscle inside her vagina was pulling at my manhood on the upstroke and then released completely to allow her to fall back upon my cock. She became impaled balls deep on ever stroke and pulled my dick almost out of her on the upward grind.)

It emboldened me to know that he knew of our sexual romp on the patio, but I still did not know what he had in mind. He sensed my apprehension and quickly related some of their experiences in the "love shack" as he called it. After a story or two (If he approves, I might write them down for you), he took me back to show me a new apparatus that can only be described as a fuck chair. He asked if I wanted to see Donna and him "going at it in the chair" on a video he had just edited. 

Before I could answer, he popped a VHS into the player. Within a few seconds, a beautiful image of these two very athletic young people jumped out of the wide screen TV suspended from the patio ceiling. Scott said that it was the last time that they had really had rough pile-driving sex. Donna loved to be taken very hard and be dominated by a huge man. Both of us tower over her by more than a foot and I out weigh her by more than 100 pounds. 

He said she talked about having two men ravage her body, but she had not mentioned it for six or so months. Apparently, it had not come up again until she saw me yesterday. She told Scott to prep me for a daylong fuck session while she dropped off the kids. I had no idea that they enjoyed threesomes and was very pleased to be asked to join them. It was also interesting that this fuck chair could be a part of our session. The possibilities made my mind wander! Scott ran to the door in a youthful sprint when Donna drove into their driveway. 

He waved her into the house and explained that I had just happened to come over to borrow the trailer again. A huge smile lit up her face and she started to strip off her clothes right in the doorway. Scott pulled her inside and into his arms. He planted a very passionate kiss on her lips. She melted into his arms but looked directly at me. Her big hazel eyes were riveting. 

I cannot remember such an intense sexual stare. Her eyes called to me to join them. I took the lead and pulled her by the hand down the hallway toward the romper room. They remained intertwined, but she was shucking clothes as they walked, first hers then his. By the time we got to the workout room, they were both completely naked. She stroked Scott's cock a little, but it was not really necessary, as his considerable sized cock was standing tall. His cock was about an inch longer than mine but thinner. 

She grabbed a couple straps over her head on the "chair" and pulled her body up onto the center pad. She lay back with her head over the appropriate pad and her feet onto a couple pads a little lower than her butt, which protruded over the rear edge of the chair. With her muscular legs, she pulled Scott into her pussy with one quick smooth stroke. She let out a clenched teeth guttural scream. 

She surprised herself with the force of the attack, despite the fact that she initiated it. She just lay in the fuck chair and writhed in sheer pleasure. Her hips were gyrating up and down and side to side at an incredible pace. This motion brought her quickly to orgasm and she came with a huge groan. This time, her mouth was completely open. She did not care if the neighbor five doors down heard her ecstasy. 

It made my cock rock hard just to watch this show of animal lust. Scott continued to pump into her pussy with vigor. His pace was measured and she began to beg for him to fuck her harder and deeper. "Pleeeeeaaasseee, fuck me harder! Make that long cock of yours work my pussy harder, deeper. OOOOOHHHHH, I'm cumming again!" and she fainted dead away.

She seemed to be out for just a few seconds, when she returned to her senses. Without delay, she motioned for me to come closer. When I approached, she grabbed my cock through my pants and pulled me to her. She ripped at my belt and zipper. Frustrated that it was taking too long, she finally ordered me to strip. After I disrobed, she pulled me by my cock to her face. Her head was tipped back and she sucked my cock into her mouth and gave me that "oh-so-memorable deep throat" blow job she had used on me in our last session. 

It was the most incredible thing to watch my thick cock go into her mouth and see the head move down her throat in this most intense blowjob. Scott continued to pump into her with his measured strokes. Each stroke from him forced her to take more of my cock down her throat, until I was completely engulfed up to my balls. It seemed that he loved to watch her suck cock. 




Borrowing Donna



He was about to loose his control as he watched my cock slide in and out of his wife's mouth. His pace and rhythm began to quicken. She was loosing her concentration. It seemed that all of us were reaching a fever pitch at the same time. I could not hold back another second when Scott grunted and pulled his cock out onto her rock hard stomach. He spilled his hot jism all over her pussy lips, lower stomach and even up to her navel. It has obviously been awhile since he had cum. It looked like he could have filled a jelly jar. 

He rocked and ground his pelvis giving her a little smearing of his cum all over her tummy. She seemed to love being covered in cum. She redoubled her effort at making me blow my load. The swelling head of my cock seemed stuck in the back of her throat, and she sensed that I was about to shoot a load in her mouth. She pushed me back and demanded that I spray my hot juice onto her very ample "DD cup tits". 

Cum makes them grow!" she said in the sexiest deep voice that I had ever heard. 

I jerked my twitching cock a couple of strokes and exploded all over those sweet looking tits. I was surprised at the amount of jism I deposited on her. She seemed to revel in the "bath" of cum we both gave her. 

She looked up at us both and said, "I want you both again now, so you better stay hard."

It was the first time I had heard her take charge like that and it made her seem even more sensual. As she smeared my cum all over her tits, she asked if I wanted to suck her breasts. Donna seemed to cum immediately when I sucked her nipple into my mouth. Her huge areola was engorged and her nipples seemed to resemble big red rubber erasers. I could taste my own cum. What a turn-on!!!! 

She bucked up and groaned with a real guttural moan that made my cock come to life again. She had just started to enjoy my ministrations on her tits when Scott, probably feeling left out, dove into her pussy with abandon. I could see his tongue dive into her clitoris and flick it from side to side. Donna was now in double licking heaven. She earlier had admitted to Scott that she had fantasized about having two men. It made her daydream of her own needs.

I wanted to dive my cock into her beautiful little pussy, so I suggested that Scott and I switch ends. Before I got around her and into position to take her pussy, she turned over and pulled her knees up under her chest. She looked so tiny in that position and her ass was perfectly placed at the exact height for me to slide into her pussy. I love to fuck a woman from behind. Even if I never take her anally, I get the unbelievable sensation of my cock parting her ass cheeks and forcing them wide. 

I loved the feeling of my balls slapping up against her clit. Scott's cock, hard and strong as ever, was buried balls deep in her mouth and her hand was between his legs fingering his ass. I could not believe she had mastered the art of deep-throating even his long cock. He seemed to be loosing his mind but not his cum. My slow measured pussy thrusts were forcing her to engulf his long manhood with her mouth and even down her throat. 

Her forehead was banging against his tight abs. His pelvis rocked up and forward with every stroke. With my strokes lifting her ass into the air, her mouth continued to be impaled on his cock. His butt muscles tensed, and I knew he must have been close to coming again. I slammed a couple of quick stokes into her pussy, but she leaned back to push me away from her while she pulled off his cock. He grunted once quietly and then let out a long low moaning grunt while he sprayed his whole load on her face, chest and into her mouth. 

She smeared it all over her tits and licked up what she could reach around her tongue. With the same graceful athletic move that she had shown while fucking me into the matt during our first session, she quickly turned over and hooked her legs into swing chair above her head. I knew that meant she wanted it harder, deeper and faster and right now. 

Without any hesitation, I slipped into her sloppy wet pussy and began to make her feel every inch of my swollen rock hard cock. Completely drained of juices by her exceptional cock sucking mouth, I knew I could last a long time. I pumped into her snatch for at least twenty minutes. It was so sweet and wet that I was completely oblivious of Scott. He was completely drained, just sitting near her head playing with her tits, stroking her hair and kissing her very passionately. Periodically, she would erupt in a tirade of dirty talk, demanding to be fucked hard, longer, deeper, more of everything and then orgasm uncontrollably. 

I think she even fainted away again, but came back quickly in response to my pussy pounding strokes. After her third or fourth mind numbing orgasm, I shot a large load of cum into her pussy. She grabbed the bar above her head and pulled off my cock. I would like to have seen her do that move while I was pounding away at her. 

Scott held her up while she pulled her ankles out of the chair. She melted into his arms and he carried her from the "swing chair" into the master bath, where he drew a warm bath for her. The gentleness and care he took to make her comfortable made it obvious he loved her a great deal. He gave me a warm hand towel and a cold beer. 

He said, "She'll want more in a little while!"

Thanks Neighbors! 

Brian W.



Borrowing From a Friend



Even fifteen years after graduation, my old college roomy, Lisa, and I are still best of friends. We e-chat, go to school reunions, and sometimes make visits to each other's home. Mine is in Michigan; hers is near Tampa, Florida. Back in college, Lisa was the innovative, daring one, and I was more conservative and inhibited. However, over the course of four years, she persuaded me to get bolder and enjoy life, which made me mature into a more interesting woman. One of the fun things we shared was our habit of borrowing items from each other: clothes, class notes, books, music, even boyfriends. The borrowing, of course, is past history. That is, it was until last April.

My husband was sent on a ten-day business marketing trip to Germany, so I decided to chase away the late-winter blahs and go to a warm climate at the same time. I arranged a visit to Lisa's home, while mys stayed with our two children. Unfortunately, on Thursday, one day after I arrived, Lisa received a telephone call informing her that her father, who had retired to Arizona, had suffered a heart attack. Lisa and Ron, her husband, decided to fly to Phoenix, to visit her father and comfort her mother. My Super-Saver airline tickets required that I lay over the weekend, so I was forced to stay at their house until the following Tuesday. 

I was quite disappointed that the trip did not work out the way I had dreamed. Visiting Lisa had more meaning for me than a simple get-away from cold, blustery Michigan to the idyllic April warmth of Florida. I was thirty-eight, and part of me felt that my life had slid into the dullsville pit of the prototypical middle-class suburban wife with a no-challenge job. When I decided to visit Lisa, I was hoping that together we could somehow re-energize my inner batteries, so to speak. But that wish and our activity plans fell apart after Lisa's phone call. 

"I'm sorry that I've spoiled your vacation, Gail," Lisa said tearfully. "But I really have got to see Dad and Mom."

"I understand," I replied, trying to comfort her in any way that I could. "Don't you worry about me; you take care of your family. I'll find plenty of things to do by myself."

"Thanks for being so understanding, Gail. You may as well use our master bedroom instead of the guest room. You'll be more comfortable. And feel free to use whatever is in the house." She smiled through her tears. "You know, like you borrowed from me when we roomed together."

I laughed at her little joke and gave her a reassuring hug.

"Don't you worry about me, Lisa. You go and take care of your dad and mom. I'm sure that I can find enough to do on my own to make my stay here pleasant enough."

Little did I realize at the time how true that statement would turn out to be. Lisa and Ron took a late flight to Phoenix on Thursday night, leaving me to fend for myself until they returned the following Monday. I pondered what I would do with my time. Driving around an unfamiliar spread-out city was too confusing, and I wasn't ready to do the night life scene on my own. Other ideas came to mind, but eventually I decided to simply relax in Lisa's and Ron's very nice house. I also determined to take Lisa up on her offer to borrow anything I wanted to make my stay pleasant. 

Thursday night, I slept in Lisa's luxurious king-size bed in the master bedroom, wearing a filmy nightgown of hers that looked so sexy that I simply had to borrow it. On Friday morning, on another impulse, I borrowed a pair of her low-cut jeans and a midriff-baring tank top - something I have wanted to wear, but never had the nerve. With my borrowed sexy outfit, I courageously made a trip to a suburban mall, and showed off my belly button, ass, and boobs to shoppers while I purchased gifts to bring back to my two kids and Gram. I returned to Lisa's house after lunch, and the brilliant sunlight streaming on the secluded back yard pool inspired me to get a head start on my summer tan. That, however, required a swim suit and some book to read at the poolside -- two things I hadn't packed. Easy enough, I thought, I'll simply borrow one of Lisa's swim suits, and she and Brian had plenty of novels on their bookshelves that I hadn't yet read. After all, I kept telling myself, Lisa had said that I could borrow whatever I wanted. 

I searched the built-in closet in the master bedroom, where I discovered Lisa's collection of swim suits in the third drawer on her side of the dresser case. I knew that Lisa prided herself by being on the leading edge of styles, and this was Florida, but somehow it's shockingly different to discover an assortment of very skimpy bikinis in your best friend's dresser. My curiosity and desire to do something totally out of character got the better of me, and I dared myself to wear the skimpiest bikini in the drawer. I think that all women have a secret desire to be an exhibitionist at times, and I was no different. After all, I argued with the inhibited side of me, who would even see me? I stripped off my clothes and slipped on a yellow thong bikini bottom with matching string tied top. It felt different, but kind of nice, I concluded, after I looked in the full-length mirror in Lisa's bedroom. I was satisfied that my caloric cutback and workouts at the fitness center left nothing to be embarrassed about. That is, if you don't feel embarrassed about having your ass cheeks totally bare, and the globes of your breasts covered with just two little triangles. 

The sun felt warm and comfortable on my body, and the padded chaise lounge next to the pool was ideal for relaxing while catching my rays. I got comfortable with my tiny bikini in the privacy of the back yard, but the sun baking on my skin eventually had me hot and perspiring. I left my book and towel next to the chaise and waded down the built-in steps into the shallow end of the pool. The water was cool but refreshing, and I began to leisurely swim to the far side, practicing my crawl stroke and rotary breathing. After the first up-and-back, the physical workout felt good, and I continued swimming laps like I do at the Y back home. The routine is like repetitive yoga for me, and my mind went far away, dreaming idle thoughts. I was oblivious to my immediate surroundings, while my arms and legs propelled my body up and back in the pool. 

Eventually, my workout energy was consumed, and I swam one final lap, heading for the shallow end of the pool. I stood up, gathered my wet hair behind my neck, and wiped the dripping water from my eyes. That was when I noticed a young man in swimming trunks was standing next to my chaise. He was in his early twenties, I judged, and had a swimmer's physique: slim, hard muscles, with little hair on his chest. The look on his face told me that he was just as astonished as I was to find someone else in the pool. I had no idea who he was, and demanded an explanation as to why he was there.

"I think that I should ask you that same question," the young man replied. "My name is Todd Dwyer. Brian, the owner of this house, is my father. And who might you be?"

I recalled that Lisa had told me that Brian is nine years older than she, and this was his second marriage.

"I'm Gail Tobias." I replied to Mr. Todd Dwyer. "Your step-mother and I were college roommates, and I'm visiting her. Or, rather, was. I presume that you know that Lisa's father had a heart attack, and she and Brian, er, that is your father, went to visit him."

This explanation must have satisfied him, and he relaxed from his tense, defensive posture. My concern abated as well, and I took in more of his features. He was just over six feet tall, with brown hair cut medium length, dark eyes that sparkled, and chiseled cheekbones and chin. A very handsome young man, I concluded, who obviously was cast from the southern Florida mold. I noticed that he was checking me out as well. I looked down my front, to see what interested my young acquaintance. I gasped with the realization it was me in that itsy bitsy bikini. I, too, saw plenty of cleavage on display between my breasts, and their nipples were somewhat enlarged. I attributed that condition to the pool water, at least partly. And the bottom half barely covered my pussy, which still was a lot more coverage than my backside. My towel was behind Todd, draped over the chaise lounge, so I didn't have much choice other than to brazen out the scene. 

When he finally looked up after taking me all in, he said, "My dad left a text message about Gramps on my cell. I'm a student at the University of Tampa, and I live in an apartment near the campus. Dad's been nagging me for weeks to take what I want from my old bedroom. I had only morning classes today, so I thought that I would beat the rush hour traffic, have a swim, stay overnight in my room, and take what I wanted from it tomorrow. What he forgot to tell me was that a very beautiful friend of my step-mom would be a house guest. May I ask, is it Mrs., or Ms. Tobias?"

It flattered me when he called me beautiful, and I answered, "It's Mrs., but I would feel like a very old woman if you called me that. Please, call me Gail."

"Gail would be friendlier," he said with an attractive smile. "And you should call me Todd."

"Now that we know that neither of us are trespassers, Todd, why don't you enjoy your swim? I just completed my five laps, and I was going to make some iced tea. Would you care for some? "

I saw Todd's attractive smile and he said, "That would be very nice. Thank you."

I was walking toward the patio door when I realized that my thong had my derriere completely bare and in full view of Todd. Modesty and propriety should have made me to go back to the chaise and wrap the towel around me, but I didn't know what got into me. Perhaps it was endorphins stirred up in my body from the lap swimming; maybe it was my pent up feelings of being dull and uninteresting; or it might have been that Todd was a fit and tanned young male that I wanted to impress. It was probably all of the above. In any case, I saucily continued my march to the kitchen, flashing my naked buttocks by wiggling my hips to give Todd something to think about. When I was near the door, I turned my head to see his reaction. It felt kind of kinky, but it turned me on to observe a guy in his early twenties admiring my thirty-something body. He obviously hadn't expected the sight, and he was frozen like a deer in headlights. Our eyes met, and Todd became embarrassed that he was caught staring at my naked ass. 

"So, you'll have to tell me how I rated when I return, Todd," I said with a teasing smile. "Not a perfect 10, I realize, but close, I hope." 

Todd blushed -- he was even cuter then -- and I noticed a bulge forming in the front of his trunks. He noticed his condition, too, and he abruptly spun around to run into the pool to energetically swim to the deep end. Like all women who meet an attractive man for the first time, I speculated on his possible attachment to someone, or if he might be available and interested. I tried to dismiss those thoughts, mentally arguing that this young man was my best friend's stepson, and he was over ten years younger than me. 

The internal debate between my sensible/mature side and the have-some-fun/sexy side continued while I made the iced tea. It occurred to me that there might be some neighborhood gossip that could harm Lisa or Brian, if someone misconstrued the fact that Todd and I were going to sleep under the same roof that night. I opened the door leading to the garage and noticed, with some relief, that Todd had put his car inside the garage. That, at least, would not be conspicuous.

When I returned to the patio with the tea and glasses, plus some cookies I found, Todd was leisurely swimming free style to the far end, where he executed a graceful racing flip to push off the side with his feet. There must have been several years of swim coaching in his background. He swam the length of the pool, back to the shallow end, where I was standing near the edge. As he stepped out of the pool, I gazed at the water running down his firm belly, past his trunks, which no longer had that nice, masculine bulge. I was disappointed that it was gone. I handed him a towel and invited him to join me for some iced tea. 

We sat in chairs at a round table with an umbrella, and soon were cozily chatting over iced tea and cookies. I learned that he was twenty-one, an only child, and his parents divorced when he was eight. His mother had been granted primary custody, but after Brian married Lisa, and they bought their house, he lived part-time with them, until he went to college. We learned that we share a common major: business administration. His eyes had that sparkle of youth, but also a serious, deep look, that somehow reassured me that I could trust this young man, even though I had just met him. It wasn't too long before I had to admit to myself that I wasn't thinking conventional motherly thoughts about him, especially when quite often his eyes would wander over the female parts of my body while we chatted. I giggled at the ludicrousness of the situation, and glanced up into his eyes, to share that feeling. 

"I apologize, for staring at your, that is, er, at you, Gail," he said, somewhat flustered. "But I'm enjoying talking with you very much. In fact, I'm more comfortable talking with you than I am when I'm with girls my own age."

"Ouch, that makes me feel like I'm your aunt or some other ancient. I am a mother, I'll admit, but can't you think of me as a friend? It would do my ego lots of good."

"I definitely am not thinking of you as the motherly type right now, Gail, especially when you're in such a sexy bikini."

"Almost out of it might be more accurate," I teased, looking directly at him to observe his reaction to my flirting.

At first he chuckled and shared the humor of the scene with me. But then, suddenly he stopped sipping from his glass, obviously thinking of how best to say what was on his mind to me. I waited for his response, and then noticed that the witty sparkle in his eyes had transformed into an emotion altogether different. He continued to stare directly into my eyes, almost pleading for understanding and comfort.

"I shouldn't feel this way about you," he whispered. "But I can't help it; I do." 

I was sufficiently experienced to have seen that look in a man's eyes before: Todd wanted me. His feeling had come on so suddenly, I wasn't prepared for it. My mind went into its own mood swing. It had been quite a while since I had seen that kind of look. Husbands of fifteen years have mostly forgotten how powerful a force that kind of stare can be on a woman, and they take too much for granted. My body was convincing me that I should respond to Todd's desire, while my mind was warning me this was dangerous. Perhaps I would have done otherwise, if I had lengthened my internal debate, but at that moment, I pushed my wet hair away from my face, which thrust my breasts out to tease him, and then placed my hand over his. All the while I locked my eyes onto his.

I softly asked, "Todd, do you know what a MILF is?"

"Uh huh; it's a Mother I'd Like to Fuck."

"Your step-mother, Lisa, said that I was free to borrow anything in the house to make my stay more pleasant. Right now I'd like to borrow you, Todd. I want to know what it's like to be a MILF. Let's go inside to the bedroom, where it will be more comfortable."

I rose from the table and offered my hand to him. He hesitated a moment, a debate going on in his mind. I didn't say anything; he had to decide, regardless of my desire at the moment. My insides tingled when he stood up and took my hand, trying to communicate that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. Neither of us said a word as we walked through the sliding door into the master bedroom. Once inside, I lifted up my chin and asked him to give me a kiss. His pressure was light and tender at first, but then I felt the urgency rise up in his kiss. It felt perfectly natural to part my lips and invite his tongue to explore -- first the edge of my teeth, then teasing the tip of my tongue with his. My insides felt as if a bonfire had just burst into flame, and my knees were shaking. I broke off the kiss and knelt in front of him to tug down his trunks, exposing his manhood for my pleasure.

My sexual eagerness must have triggered a second salvo of hormones within Todd, for, in an instant, his cock filled and stiffened. I watched it continue to gorge itself with blood, fascinated as if it was a snake rising to a charmer's flute. His head and shaft elevated until it was vertical and tight up against his groin. Oh, my God, what a thrill it was for me to see an erection like that once more! It triggered memories of my feelings when I had just become sexually active. A hard cock like that simply made my insides burn with desire, and I could feel my moisture lubricating my vagina. Right then, regardless of whether it was right or wrong, I knew that I wanted that beautiful, youthful cock for myself.

"You have a most beautiful cock, sire," I said. "This maid definitely is interested in your charms."

Todd grinned but said nothing as he stepped out of his trunks. He kissed me on the lips, walked over to the bed and pulled off the blanket and top sheet. When he had prepared the bed for lovemaking, he stretched out on his back, stroking that luscious cock of his.

"And this sire is very much interested in seeing the charms of his lovely MILF," he said. 

I grinned in agreement, and untied the strings of my top, tossing it on the floor Next went the bottoms, and I stood naked before this young man I had only just met. I smiled and looked deeply into his eyes, which were bright with desire. To further excite him, I cupped my breasts with my hands and pinched my nipples, which were already hardening. After letting him stare for a while, I knelt on the bed, in between Todd's legs, and brushed my breasts against his rigid cock.

"Oh, God," he said softly. "How beautiful you look." 

"And so do you, my handsome young stallion. Your virile cock looks too delicious not to taste. I want to suck it for a while before I feel it fuck my pussy."

"I'd like nothing better, as long as you let me taste you at the same time, Gail."

I re-arranged myself on the bed so that my ass and pussy almost smothered Todd's face, while I supported myself on my knees. Todd's tongue hungrily went to work, licking my pussy lips and his nose burrowed between my buttocks. Whatever reservations I still harbored about having sex with Todd vanished with the first sensation of his tongue and finger exploring my pussy. He definitely knew his way in and around a woman's erotic spots. It felt so good that I arched my back to sit on his face more completely, relishing his tongue flicking over my labia and teasing my clit. My hips reflexively wriggled and rotated to elevate the feelings, and I mewed with contented arousal.

"Oh, God, that feels so good, baby," I exclaimed. "Keep sucking my clit and licking my pussy; it's really getting me hot." 

Todd's hand pressed on the back of my head, pushing me forward, inching my mouth toward his full erection. It was only fair that I give him some pleasure while he was working so hard to give some to me. I grasped his hardness around the shaft, and began to lick the head of his cock, tasting his sweet/salty pre-cum that was leaking from the tip. His cock was too large for me to take it all in my mouth without gagging, and I used a combination of hand job on the length of his shaft, and mouth fucking for three or so inches of his head. Todd must have appreciated the feelings I gave him, as his ministrations to my pussy parts became even more active and arousing. 

I adore the sixty-nine sex position. I think that each partner gets to really express his/her feelings toward the other, even more so than fucking. What is especially thrilling is if both partners can cum at the same time. It only happens for me about a quarter of the time when my partners (now Ken, my husband, but two others as well) seriously go down on me. Todd and I nearly scored a perfect 10 on our first try together that afternoon. Of course, I was horny as hell, and Todd, being just 22, could fire off without much stimulation. 




Borrowing From a Friend



I paced my sucking and jacking off his cock to time with my arousal. I could sense when he was coming too quickly by feeling his hips begin to thrust up and down uncontrollably. To slow him down, I would squeeze his shaft and pull my mouth back. Other times I would wriggle and bounce my hips and ass to communicate that whatever he was doing to me at the moment was just right. That poor mattress of Lisa's and Brian's certainly got a workout that afternoon. 

Todd and I pleasured each other for over ten minutes, until both of us were on the brink of exploding with our orgasms. I could feel Todd's balls and cock tense and harden in anticipation of his ejaculation, and my own insides were aflame with passion. I savored the pain/pleasure tension which builds up in a woman just prior to her orgasm. I urged Todd to put himself over the edge by taking still more of his cock in my mouth and tickling his balls with my fingers. That effort, and the sensual thoughts that were spinning in my mind, began to push me over the top as well.

I needed to cry out to release my orgasm, and I pulled my mouth off Todd's cock just as the first spurt of cum erupted from his balls and ejaculated onto my chin and dripped on my breasts. That triggered my own orgasm, and, after screaming one loud cry, I buried my mouth back over his cock, to receive his second and third spurts of cum. At the same time my cunt (what other word describes how wanton I felt at that moment?) burst into passionate waves of overwhelming orgasmic pleasure. Oh, God, if only sex could be that good every time!

I fell off Todd's body and lay exhausted on my side next to him. We were panting and gasping for breath for several minutes. Eventually, I crawled up onto my knees and reversed position, to smile my gratitude to Todd and kiss him on his mouth, letting him taste his own cum. He grinned back at me with a tired-but-satisfied look in his eyes, and wrapped his arm around me to snuggle against his masculine chest. I toyed with his now flaccid penis, while he teased the nipple of my breast. Sometimes I would lightly kiss and nip his nipple as well.

I had forgotten how quickly a youthful male can recover his virility, and was still in a pleasant state of relaxed reverie when I felt his cock stirring and soon his full erection was restored. This time Todd was insistent on having his genital organ push deeply into mine, and he rolled out from under me and spread my legs wide apart. I was still tender from all the cunnilingus I had so gratefully received, but I wanted Todd to feel that this time he was the dominant partner. He was quite urgent, and I had to make him slow down so that my arousal could catch up to his. Eventually, he came before I could, but I was not disappointed. It made me feel proud that I, a woman of thirty-eight, could still excite a young man just barely in his twenties.

Afterwards, Todd confided to me that I was only the second woman that he has fucked, and that he had never slept with a woman. He had a girl friend the year before, but they had sex only in the afternoon in her dorm room. The following semester, she left his college to attend Florida State, and he had been celibate since then. I encouraged him to use the weekend we had together to experience sleeping with a woman and make up for lost fuck time, which he did very ably. For the rest of the weekend I was a most satisfied and grateful MILF, getting fucked before falling asleep each night, and then getting waked up by having a stiff cock pushed into my mouth. There were several places and things in Lisa's house which I borrowed to show Todd more imaginative ways to make love, especially after we discovered Lisa's and Brian's stash of porn DVD's, along with their collection of dildos, cock rings and other sex toys. There were a couple which actually were quite good, and Todd took me to an adult novelty store to buy some for myself.

Todd cut his classes on Monday, and we had one last day together. Brian and Lisa were returning that evening, and Todd and I agreed that he should not be there when they arrived. He also decided that he would postpone taking the things he originally came for, before our carnal lust changed things. That way, he explained, there would be no evidence that he had ever been to the house while I was there. He even set up a special e-mail address on Ken's and my account, so that we could exchange private thoughts. Before he departed, we decided to try skinny-dipping in the pool, and I ended up getting laid on the diving board. 

I returned from that eventful trip understanding considerably more about myself than I knew before I left. I learned that I still have a healthy appetite for sex, and am pretty good at it. I also learned that I have not lost a bit of love or sexual interest in Ken, and want to share the rest of my life with him and his children. After we returned from our separate trips, he was a little puzzled, but quite pleased nonetheless, when I demonstrated a whole lot more interest in sex, to the point of demanding more cunnilingus. Previously, he had been somewhat reluctant to go down on me, which is how I get my biggest orgasms. But now I am giving him blow jobs in our morning shower, and he has cottoned to the idea of doing me for my first orgasm, before we have more via fucking. 

Todd and I continue to exchange e-mails, in which he and I share our sexual experiences. He can now claim to have fucked three women and slept with two -- yes, he has found someone at his college, and they are now living together. Recently, his girl friend sent me an e-mail, inviting me to join them in a threesome for Todd's birthday gift. I'm trying to figure out what story to tell Ken to explain my trip.



Borrowing His Body



Note: This is my first attempt at erotic, fiction writing, or any fiction writing for that matter. Hope you enjoy the read! More to come with this story...

*

--Jake--

The clock read 8:47.

What the hell, I thought. It was Sunday, or at least I was fairly sure it was Sunday, and someone was fumbling around my room in the semi-dark of the early morning. Before I could even start to think who was in my room, normally kept locked, an unforgiving blast of sunlight interrupted my barely coherent thoughts and I cursed.

"Fuck! Close the goddamn blinds!"

"Devlin! I will not have you speaking to me like that! Now I wouldn't have to do this if you'd just set your alarm. You know we have church at nine!"

Well shit. This was a fucked up dream. Several things were seriously wrong with it. For one, my name isn't Devlin. It's Jake. And although I had no idea who the fuck this miffed, prissy lady was yelling at me, the mentioning of church was so strange that I couldn't even register her. So I rolled over and squeezed my eyes shut figuring I'd wake up in a few dream-minutes totally freaked out.

The lady didn't leave.

"Don't pretend not to hear me," she shouted grabbing the pillow I had just yanked over my head. "I want you ready and down stairs in five minutes, mister!" The door slammed. Eyes squeezed tight, I listened as the clacking sound of her shoes faded from earshot.

I sat up, only to find I wasn't in my room. And, at this point I kind of started freaking out. It was Sunday, nearly nine o'clock in the morning and I had no idea where I was or what was going on. So yeah, I'd been drinking last night, but it couldn't have been that much. It definitely couldn't have been that much.

There was no way.

I dragged my ass out of bed and over to an average-sized mirror hanging above the squat dresser of the strange room I had landed myself in, and...holy shit. Let's just say it wasn't my own smiling face staring back.

Definitely not a dream.

***************

~Devlin~

My family had a long history of mildly successful and seemingly unexciting subsistence. The only thing worth further examination would be the insistence of several eccentric relatives -- those relatives incontrovertibly deemed "apeshit crazy" by the rest of the family -- on the occurrences of several highly unexplainable events. Very few of my relatives would tell these unusual stories: my second cousin Barry had a few crazy ones, and so did Uncle Stew, but my favorite case study in this intriguing matter was my paternal grandfather. He was most adamant about his tales, and whereas others admitted to have been drunk or otherwise intoxicated when real oddities presented themselves, he was stone cold sober and entirely serious.

Back when he was still alive, he laid claim to many strange stories, such as having awoken one morning to find himself locked in a garden shed, and not even his own: the garden shed of a stranger who lived half a mile from his home. This was apparently the least peculiar of the inexplicable events he had experienced, for it was the only one he had been apt to share with non-family members. As his favorite grandson (lucky me), he would tell me how he once dreamt he was trapped in the body of a cat, that he was a cat, and that when he woke up he realized it wasn't a dream at all. I was younger when he first told me. Obviously being far more impressionable at the time, I believed every word, and it didn't help that for years my grandmother would do nothing but encourage him and corroborate his every word.

"Yes I remember that day, Harold. It was the day you went missing. Devvy, I searched for him the whole day, and you wouldn't believe it, there wasn't the slightest trace of him. And the whole time our cat Chubs, usually a quiet little critter, was following me around mewling and crying at me. Just the strangest thing, it was. Next morning I woke up with your grandfather back in bed saying he spent the day as our kitty cat!" She'd chime in when he told his stories, lending credibility, amusing me with her singsong and tuneful voice. She had an explanation for everything, this and several other similar disappearance stories, and I believed it all. My imagination was a lot freer then, and it just seemed so funny.

My grandmother died when I was ten, and it was pretty rough. My grandparents were dear to me, as my parents made sure to make them a part of my young life -- especially since my mother's parents had passed long before I was born. In the last years of my grandfather's life he was put into a home; my parents arranged it, seeing as we were closest to him. He was floundering without my gran and he seemed to grow more hare-brained without his partner, his anchor: the one person who believed his tales without question or hesitation of doubt. My father, forever the cynic, was embarrassed or worried, I suppose, and though my grandfather seemed perfectly lucid, and mostly sane save the stories, my father had him examined by a psychiatrist and prescribed something. I think that might've been the last nail in the coffin, because after that my grandfather grew cold and laconic. He wasn't the same, and he died only six short months later.

After my grandfather's passing, I thought I was done with the sort of things that had made my dad's jaw clench and brow sweat at their mere mentioning. Of course I wasn't. When I was fourteen, my dad went missing for an entire weekend. It was strange on several levels -- he wasn't particularly mad at my mom, my little sister, or me, so it was unlikely he stormed off as he sometimes did -- but mostly because he had left everything at home. Phone, wallet, car, keys: everything. After two days the police found him two counties west of us, almost fifty miles from home. He was bare-foot, in his pajamas, and unkempt, as I'd never seen him before. The only reason they even found him was because he had finally scrounged up enough change to use a pay phone and make a call home.

Now this seemed to me a curiously similar incident to the ones in the stories my granddad would spew at us, what with the inexplicable distance jumping overnight, but when questioned my father refused to address the matter. After that weekend he would simply refer to it as the "goddamn time he was forced to beg for change like a hobo." Apparently it wasn't too fun, yet it was all too suspicious to me. I began to wonder what exactly this familial aberration was.

Several family reunions later, I had gathered that anyone with outlandish, basically impossible stories to tell, those akin to my granddad's and my dad's, all happened to be of paternal relation. Given my quarries were usually inebriated when I attempted to extricate from them further details of their disappearance stories, I only managed to conclude that something bizarre was happening to male family members on my dad's side when they were in a state of rest, semi or unconsciousness.

In any event, by the time I reached the last years of high school I was obsessed with my genealogical background. I don't know if my love for history grew out of my obsession or vice versa, but I found myself feverishly researching my personal history, talking to my oldest relatives, trying to scratch up any stray detail or story about these mysterious happenings, wondering and half hoping something unbelievable would happen to me.

I couldn't have hoped for anything worse.

On Sunday, the thirtieth of January 2012 -- the crisp morning of a lovely day at the start of the second semester of my fantastic final year of high school, my eighteenth year -- I, Devlin Patterson, awoke to find myself not quite myself: sprawled out naked, with a bit of a headache in a room that smelled vaguely of marijuana and old pizza. As soon as I felt my shoulder, which was sore for some reason, I knew I wasn't myself at all, for what was normally slender and a bit bony was solid and bulky and ripped and...definitely not my shoulder. Oh god.

***************

--Jake--

Goddammit, goddammit. Shit, shit, fucking shit...

There was a stream of profanities running through my head, and that's what I remember most clearly. After staring at not my own reflection in the mirror and realizing the floppy hair and cute pointed chin that belonged to it also belonged to one of my classmates, Devlin Patterson, I was interrupted by a little girl who barged into not my room and yelled at me to get some clothes on.

"Dev, Mom's going to kill you! We're already late!" she said.

So this was apparently his (my?) sister. I just stood there looking incredibly dumb as she glared and swished out the door. Jumping back into reality, I panicked and starting rifling through his dresser. I grabbed a pair of jeans from the second one I checked, threw them on, then continued checking before realizing the kid didn't keep any of his shirts in there. I stumbled to the closet, tripping as I tried to steer the kid's gangly legs, ripped a shirt off a hanger and threw it on. I was out the door and down the stairs in the next minute only to find his mother at the door in a beige pantsuit, his father dressed in slacks, and his sister in the nauseatingly pink skirt I failed to notice before and...I definitely wasn't dressed for the occasion.

Devlin Patterson's father (Mr. Patterson? his dad? my dad?) just gave this tired sigh, and his mother jabbed her hand into her side and scoffed. "Normally I'd march your sorry ass right back upstairs to change, but seeing as we're already late," she said with a pointed look that poured out disapproval and screamed extra chores for a week. All I could do was stand there. I had nothing to say. They'd definitely notice I wasn't their son if I spoke up.

"Let's just get in the car, Maryanne, and maybe we won't miss the sermon," said Mr. Patterson as he heaved open the door.

So, I ended up going to church for the first time in six years: a nice Sunday morning family outing with the properly dressed Patterson's. The service was long, and the church was kind of stuffy, but it gave me time to think, well at least when I wasn't suffering from frequent bursts of sweaty panic and anxiety.

When we returned home I was awkward, and I couldn't really say anything. I was so nervous they'd know something was wrong, and there was no doubt they'd think their son was suddenly mentally unsound if I tried to tell them I wasn't their son. After a few noncommittal noises in vague agreement to what Devlin's parents told me they planned for the day I ran upstairs and locked myself in the kid's room.

I needed to talk to Devlin, or what I assumed would be Devlin somehow ironically trapped in my body.

***************

~Devlin~

I was a good kid, to say the least. I rarely argued with my parents, always did my homework and earned excellent marks in all my classes. I got along reasonably well with my "tween," twelve-year-old sister, did all of my chores, and took great care in tending to my cat, Evelyn. I went to church without ever voicing my dissenting opinions of the institution. I was gay and had known it for some time, but remained hung up in the closet at home and never caused any trouble, i.e. my parents still didn't know even if all my friends did. I was meticulous, studious, and the furthest from disputatious you could possibly get. By all standards: I was a good kid.

Why then, was I cruelly and extemporaneously hurled from my own beloved body into the body -- albeit a toned and absolutely beautiful body -- belonging to one of the biggest problems I had in high school? The body of my persecutor, the hotshot jock, Jake Currant, one of the three or four guys who made a hobby of hassling me, some of my friends, and any of the other, for lack of a more pejorative term, "effeminate" guys at my school. The body that I lusted after for three years, unbeknownst to him and despite how much of a douche he was.

Even if Jake wasn't the main perpetrator, he certainly never dissociated himself with the assholes that picked on me, and he was frequently present and totally capable of preventing things. In my mind he was equally culpable, and having an unavoidable crush on the guy really didn't help the situation.

In the back of my mind, I must have instantly known what was going on, but first I tried to talk myself into thinking it was a dream, a fantasy really, in which I'd become the object of my desire because I simply couldn't stop thinking about him. Nevertheless, my analytic mind, one often plagued by fanciful thoughts of a clandestine family gift, latent and lurking, instantly snapped to the conclusion: it'd happened. What I'd been waiting for had happened. I finally experienced the freak "Patterson" happenstance and found myself in some unknown location or in the wrong body, and in my case both. I went to sleep last night after finishing that chapter of The Hunger Games and jacking off to some fantasy I'd concocted involving several hot jocks from my school. I woke up in the body of one of those guys: the guy.

So there I was, in this guy's room. As I began to stir I realized how much I felt like shit. I seemed to have ended up in the bed I was in, in the state I was in, after a wholly unceremonious strip-down and an equally ungraceful face-plant. I pushed myself onto my arms, flipped over, and both my head and stomach lurched at the movement. I moaned.

The sound that came out of me was insanely erotic. It was the sound I'd been imagining for far too long, but real and sexy as hell and bizarrely resonating in my own chest. Ignoring the upset state my body was in -- most likely a hangover, knowing this guy's drinking habits -- I began to run Jake's hands over his body. Damn, I was toned...or he was toned. Regardless, the body I inhabited was smooth, tan, and all muscle, rippling with lean strips of it. I briefly thought how peculiar it was that I was so instantly hard just by feeling the body I recognized as my own, but quickly discarded the thought seeing as this was probably the only opportunity I'd ever have to touch this amazing body, whether I was housed in it or not.

So I did what any hormone-crazed, lusty gay teen would do presented with the current circumstance: I slid my hand down those sculpted abs and grabbed Jake's swollen cock. My god, his dick had to be at least an inch longer and thicker than mine. And it was veiny and purplish in hue and leaking pre-cum simply because I was so excited to actually wrap my fingers around it, even if my fingers weren't actually mine.

 So there I was, sprawled out, stroking this hard body, running one hand up and down his abs and chest, worshipping the muscles, stroking the other up and down Jake Currant's gorgeous cock. The feel of it was just too much, and I think I was harder than ever, wild with lust. I was really jerking his cock hard. My grip was stronger than I'd ever experienced, and I really had this insane torque to jerk his cock fast. Really fast, and hard. I felt a familiar tingling in my balls, well Jake's balls, and his lower abdominals clenched of their own accord. It wasn't long before I was cumming all over Jake's hard stomach and smooth chest. I came a ridiculous amount in a ridiculously short amount of time.

Let's just say I liked this body swap already. Sure beat trading places with a cat for the day.

***

After coming down from an insane, out-of-body orgasm, I cleaned up with the conveniently located roll of paper towels I found at the side of his bed and for the first time really took in my surroundings. This guy's room was a catastrophe, a deplorable state of affairs. The clock read 10:27 and seeing as I wasn't yet interrupted or rudely awoken I figured Sundays were pretty lazy at the Currant residence -- after all, whenever I'd seen them, the Currants, they didn't really seem the churchgoer type.  

I crawled out of bed and began searching for clean clothes, as there were plenty of dirty ones strewn about the floor or heaped in piles and hampers. While it was no mystery where the faint odor of sweaty gym socks came from, the smell of old pizza continued accosting me, wafting from an as of yet undetermined location. I finally found a basket of rumpled shorts and tees that at first appeared to be almost as sullied as the other garments in the room, notwithstanding the fresh linen scent still lingering on the fabric, indicating relative cleanliness. So I threw on some athletic gear, figuring I might as well try to look and act the part of gorgeous, hunky jock.

Maneuvering through the obstacle course of Jake's room, I made it to the door, which I found was locked. Noting relief and thinking I should start locking my own bedroom, I turned the lock, then the doorknob, and stepped into the dead silent hall.

Realizing I really needed to pee but having no idea where their bathroom was, I stumbled down the hall until I found an open door on the left. I leaned in and flicked the light on the wall. It was a workout room, a really nice one, but I needed a bathroom, so after flicking off the switch I quickly turned out of the doorway...

"Umph! Hey, watch where you're going there, sport, almost knocked me over the railing!" A balding and slightly pudgy, middle-aged man gripped the railing. Still getting used to the powerful new body, there was probably far more force in that turn than intended.

"I...uh...sorry Dad..." I muttered.

"Eh, no biggy, my fault for trying to sneak up on you. What are you checking for in there anyway?"

Thinking quickly I went for the dazed teenager who just woke up bit and groggily mumble, "Um...thought it was...the bathroom...heh...whoops..."

"Right...how much did you and your friends drink last night?"

Shit. This guy knew I was hungover. "Um...I didn't?"

Jake's father bursts out laughing. "Jake, I told you, even if your mother isn't, I'm okay with you having a little fun, so long as you do it safely, and you don't get yourself caught, ha. Your friend Christina dropped you off last night, and I saw her haul your ass to the door, so I take it you got yourself a good designated driver. Now get your ass to the toilet before you piss yourself."

Apparently I had been leaning funny or something, because Mr. Currant must've realized I was on the verge of peeing where I stood. I dashed, a little overzealous, to the next open door down the hall to find the bathroom -- thank God -- and I quickly shut the door. Close call. At least now I knew Jake's dad wasn't so bad.

***************

--Jake--

So I didn't have this kid's number. I made a point of not associating with him, and not just because my buddies made his life a living hell. We weren't as horrible as we used to be now that schools had started cracking down on "bullies" -- in freshman year Devlin spent at least a dozen or so minutes a week trapped in his locker -- but Devlin didn't really deserve any of it, and I didn't really want any part of it.

It wasn't like I had a choice though. If I stood up for the kid, my friends would most likely turn on me, and though I couldn't be sure they would, I really couldn't risk sympathizing with "fags." It's part of this macho, jock image I was forced to keep up. I shouldn't complain. I wasn't a victim, after all. It was just hard to fake something for so many years, especially when I sympathized with Devlin.

About that...I guess I better explain it now before things get more messed up. At the beginning of my sophomore year I started to get strange feelings for guys, and not really the guys I butted heads with on the field. I was into the charming, nerdy guys who usually avoided me, the guys my friends and I picked on. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, so I ran from the feelings and started dating girls the same year.