Housewife's Choice Ch. 6

It was a week later, when the couple had settled down for the evening, that the phone rang. Jean had been waiting to hear from the boys but they hadn't called. It was the tutor – with a story that he happened to be in the area and would it be a good idea if he called round. She consulted George, and although he had been looking forward to a quiet evening, something stirred in him and he told Jean it was her choice. "Come round," she said down the phone. After a short conversation she hung up. "You said "yes" a lot of times," commented George.

"He asked if you was in and was I sure it was OK to call. He has been building up the courage to phone. He wondered whether my invitation was genuine or not," she explained. They both decided a stiff drink was needed while they waited for their visitor. George wondered why Jean, who had just come out of the shower hadn't gone to change into something sexy – though he didn't ask her. She was wearing a modest loose knitted top and a plain pleated skirt. Very middle aged and suburban – not sexy at all.

The doorbell rang and Jean welcomed in her guest. It was obvious that he too was disappointed with her attire. He was actually wondering if he had misread the signals. She introduced George and the man went to great trouble to explain he was only here to inquire about the efforts of his pupils with the garden. Jean smiled and offered him a drink – he accepted a small whiskey with water because he was driving. It was all very formal and awkward – the man rattled on about the garden. Jean suddenly interrupted him, "You don't have to pretend why you're here, sit down with your drink and relax for a while. You're here because of what you saw in the library and park – not the garden."

The man, who by now they knew as Trevor, was confused and glanced at George when Jean was being so blunt and honest. Jean tried to put him at ease. "I'm hoping the boy's will come back soon to finish what we started." Trevor didn't know how to answer that.

Jean made small talk with George joining in and Trevor became a little more relaxed. Trevor told them about life as a teacher at the college and the conversation turned to music.

"So what sort of music do you like Trevor?" asked Jean. Trevor looked amazed, for as she asked the question her hand had travelled up her inner thigh and stayed on her groin. Trevor could detect small rotating movements under the pleated skirt. George too now felt a stirring in his loins. He tried his best to answer; his eyes focused on her midriff. Jean very slowly slid her skirt up over her thighs to expose her panties and carried on massaging her inner thighs with both hands.

"This is what you came to see, isn't it?" she said gently. "So go on – tell me what music you like." Trevor tried his best and stammered along. Suddenly he spoke up.

"Sorry – I'm not used to looking at something like this when the husband is here as well."

Jean reassured him, "It's OK, there's no problem. Is there not George?"

Her husband replied with a definite "No"

Trevor looked between Jean's legs as she slid her hand down the top of her panties and stroked herself. "Would you prefer if I took them off Trevor?" she asked seductively.

"It would be nice if you took your top off." Trevor was becoming more confident with the situation. Jean very slowly pulled her top over her head. Sitting back in the chair she carried on stroking her cunt.

"Let me watch you too Trevor, play with your dick for me."

Trevor, nervous again, glanced at George sat across the room and was surprised to see the man already had his very hard penis in his hand. He looked back at Jean as he unzipped himself and pulled out his own weapon. "Very nice!" cooed Jean. They sat quietly, watching each other masturbating themselves – it was most erotic – a married couple - and a stranger they hardly knew.

"Get undressed," said Jean to Trevor. She raised her knees and hooked her leg over the arm of the seat blatantly exposing her-self. Both her lower orifices opened up to the view of the men. George's heart pounded as he watched his wife's lewd behaviour. "I want you to fuck me while my husband watches," she said quietly. "Give me your cock." The tutor obliged – it was a pleasurable evening for all.

George, one day, came home from his walk to the shops and called out for his wife. He heard her call from upstairs and went up to speak to her. As he entered the bedroom the sight of Jean dressing greeted him. She was stood in very sexy alluring underwear with nylon stockings held up by traditional suspender belt. It was an outfit more suited to a younger woman but Jean could still carry it off fine. As she completed her attire with a very short tartan kilt George wondered why, in the early afternoon she had changed into such provocative clothes. Jean tucked her very tight white tee shirt into the skirts' waistband and, smoothing out the lumps checked her profile in the mirror.

Turning toward George she pushed out her breasts emphasising how low cut it was and the amazing amount of cleavage that was on show. George felt a stirring in his groin.

"How come you've changed again – are you going out?"

"No," she answered, "We have visitors – thought I'd make myself look a bit tidier."

George looked perplexed then, by way of explanation his wife nodded toward the rear bedroom window. George walked and gazed down into the back garden. Four youths were busy with tools attacking his flowerbeds.

"The tutor arranged for them to come – a little gardening project for them. They aren't the same ones that came before – different boys."

In other words, thought George, they might be in for a few surprises. He reflected on his wife's explanation for getting changed – to look tidier. By changing into sexy underwear and revealing clothes? Clearly she wasn't going out to help them do any gardening.

"Do you want to instruct them on what changes you want?" asked his wife.

"No," answered George, "You know what we want. I'll keep out of the way – I'll let you deal with them. I expect they have their own ideas – that was part of the arrangement wasn't it – experience in planning and design for them – and we get a new look garden. No, I'll just watch through the window every now and again – to see how things develop."

He knew, and so did she, that he probably wasn't just talking about garden design.

"I won't mention that you're home then – so that they won't want to worry you with a boring discussion about detail?" Jean asked.

George smiled and nodded in agreement – but said nothing. He followed his wife downstairs and watched her move about the house. Her breasts swayed as she moved and George noticed how her nipples had become prominently visible through the thin material. When she bent low his cock sprang to attention. Would the sight be too much for unsuspecting youths, he wondered? From a woman old enough to be their mother?

There was expectancy – a sort of charged atmosphere of sexual anticipation. Jean was about to play her favourite game.

"I'll go and see how they are getting on," said Jean. George excused himself telling her he had something to do upstairs – he went to the back window.

Jean opened the patio door and stepped out. The boys were at the far end of the garden and didn't notice her observing them. She quietly strolled down the little path and waited for them to realise she was there. When they did they all did a double take – such a short skirt and show of cleavage was something they were certainly not expecting.

Jean engaged them in conversation and enquired on how they were progressing. The boys answered as best they could whilst focusing between her breasts and thighs. Jean eventually smiled and telling them she would bring them a drink later she carried on inspecting her garden. She was conscious that all eyes were still on her when, after walking a few yards past them she hesitated in front of a small shrub.

From the upstairs window George looked down and saw his wife stop with her back to the boys. All work had stopped and the boys stood and stared at Jeans' rear. Very slowly she bent forward to inspect the plant; her knees bent just a little. She knew just how far to bend, how much to push her bottom out – how much her skirt would ride up. A little further down she went and as she pushed her bottom out the boys were now able to see the bare flesh of her upper legs above her stocking tops.

George slowly pulled on his hard penis as he watched his wife expose herself in front of the boys, who were by now transfixed.

"Who said, "Life is boring when you are retired"" exclaimed George out loud. This was not only Jean's favourite game – it was also his too. As he spoke Jean went just that little more lower and gave the boys a glimpse of panties. Suddenly straightening herself up she turned and stepped back toward them. Smiling she asked, "Do you have a list of the plants you intend changing?"

She didn't really listen to the answer – she was busy checking for telltale bulges at the front of their pants. They were, as she expected, very prominent. Jean's nipple's had also become prominent – a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed by the boys. She stood and chatted for a while giving them time to take in the sight, enjoying their eyes on her cleavage.

"You can come into the kitchen later for some refreshment," she offered.

The boys' eyes lit up as they echoed a "Yes please!"

Turning away, she carried on inspecting the garden, conscious that the boys were waiting in anticipation of her bending down again. George watched from the window as, for several minutes his wife wandered to and fro in the garden, the boys' following her every move. When she finally moved back indoors George saw that the boys where in animated conversation – clearly, they weren't discussing plants. Jean had aroused their interest – and aroused herself into the bargain.

Although the boys worked hard over the next hour their enthusiasm for gardening had diminished somewhat. George had returned downstairs when his wife called him and asked if he wanted a coffee. He sipped the drink until Jean asked, "Shall I call the boys in for a break or shall I take a drink out to them?"

George smiled, "Whatever you think best."

Jean knew that outside George would be able to watch her from the window unnoticed while in the kitchen his opportunities would be limited. On the other hand, being inside gave her more scope. She was giving her husband the choice.

"I'd like to invite them in," she said.

"That's OK," answered George approvingly. "I'll go back upstairs."

He refilled his coffee mug and kissed his wife on the cheek – she felt his hardness against her thigh. Before he left the room George stepped back and slid her skirt up her thighs. He wanted to commit to memory the view that he hoped the boys were about to see.

A moment later Jean stood at the door and called out to the workers. "There are some refreshments in the kitchen if you'd like to come in."

Only one boy came and explained that the others would be along in a few minutes – they were halfway through the task of planting a rather large shrub. As he entered the kitchen Jean offered tea or coffee and told him to help himself to the various snacks she had prepared. He washed his hands and Jean noticed a small cut that was bleeding on his thumb.

"Oh dear! Let me put a dressing on for you," she offered.

The boy said it was nothing but Jean insisted and getting out the first-aid box she took hold of his hand. As she dabbed antiseptic on the small wound she was aware of the boys' gaze focusing down her cleavage. Jean looked down passed his hand and watched the bulge between his legs grow.

"Does that make you feel nice?" she said seductively.

The boy, thinking she meant the treatment she was giving his wound said, "Yes, it feels great."

"It shouldn't do – I'm old enough to be your mother," Jean whispered quietly.

The boy, now in no doubt and shocked at her directness was embarrassed and coloured up.

"It's OK," said Jean, "It feels good to be admired. You don't need to stop looking. Bet you'd like to see more wouldn't you?"

As Jean was holding the boy's hand he wasn't able to disguise the bulge in his trousers.

"That's a big bulge for a young boy!" she teased. With that comment she put a hand on his bottom drew him a little closer.

"Can I trust you to be discrete and keep a secret? Are you grown up enough to keep your mouth shut?" she whispered quietly in his ear.

The boy stammered and was very flustered, "Ye-es," he mumbled, not knowing why she was asking.

"Well I'll give you a little treat then!" said Jean. She took the boys' hand and gently lowered it down the front of her top. She pulled her bra cup forward with her other hand and guided the boy's hand inside to her nipple.

"Now you can have a feel too," she whispered. "Do you like that?"

The boy went weak and moaned as he started to roll the older woman's' nipple through his fingers. Jean returned one hand to the lads' buttocks and kissed his neck. Then, very slowly she let her other hand find it's way to his bulge and gently massaged his penis through his trousers.

"That feels nice!" said Jean in a loud whisper. "I think I'll have to have a better look!"

Very slowly and deliberately she pulled down his zip and put her hand inside to find his cock.

"Would you like me to play with it for you?" she asked.

She didn't expect a negative answer – in fact she didn't get any – the boy was to excited and just made a strange noise. Jean extracted his penis from his pants and began to gently wank him off.

"That's very thick – it would be nice to suck it," she teased.

The lad groaned even more and his breathing became more intense. Jean moved even closer to him and with the forearm of her wanking hand she managed to push up her short skirt until his penis rubbed against her panties. As the boy tweaked her tits and thought he was in seventh heaven Jean looked over his shoulder and caught a reflection through the mirror. His friends had entered the room and had been watching. Just for how long Jean wasn't sure – but she wasn't worried – it was time to tease his friends too.

Pretending she hadn't seen them she kissed the boy and carried on masturbating him. Now her spare hand moved from the boys' buttocks and she eased up the hem of her skirt to give her audience a better view. From their position they would be able to see all – a side view of her hand pumping his cock – how it pressed against her cunt lips through her sexy underwear.

"I'd love to let you fuck me while you suck my tits!" she said softly, but in a voice loud enough to for the others to hear. "That's right! Good boy! Roll your fingers over my tit – squeeze it1"

Casting a sly glance at the mirror she saw three very excited and frustrated youths – all with matching bulges in their groin! Now the boy was losing control – he was nearing his limit – time for the next step of her game. Jean had mistimed and misjudged the situation. As she feigned shock and embarrassment while she pretended to suddenly notice the boy's compatriots she felt a sticky liquid spurt over her upper thigh. She still held up her skirt to give the youths maximum spectacle

"Oh my goodness!" she cried. "What must you think? I got a little carried away!"

The boys said nothing and just stood staring with mouths wide open. By the fact that they had maintained large protrusions in their groins Jean knew they were far from being disgusted or offended. She thought they looked more like a bunch of kids that had arrived to late for a party. Just in time to see the last of the ice cream being eaten. She saw, besides their shock – envy, jealousy – and that "Can we have a turn" sort of look.

The boy who had been with Jean quickly excused himself and asked if he could use the bathroom. Jean sent him upstairs and very casually told the others to help themselves to tea or coffee. After the boy had returned to the room Jean too excused herself and visited the bathroom to clean up. As she came out onto the landing George beckoned her to the bedroom. Without saying anything further he kissed her and ran his hands over her body.

"It could be," said Jean, "That when I go back downstairs, our helpers may have left. But even if they are still here – I don't think that much more gardening will get done today. Something else will probably be of more interest to them."

George became very excited and whispered; "You'd better get back then." She could feel his hard penis pressing into her thigh.

Jean returned to the kitchen to find the boys sipping their drinks – she noticed how the conversation stopped when she appeared. Without the slightest hint that something unusual had happened Jean moved around the room making small talk. The youths appeared very unsettled and found difficulty joining in. Jean could feel their eyes follow her about and noticed how they focused on certain parts of their body. The fact that they are still here, Jean reasoned to herself, means that they were hoping for a little more excitement. If they had disapproved they would have either gone home or at least returned to the garden. It was time to take things a little further.

"I don't suppose I should be encouraging boys of your age to be admiring my body, should I?"

Jean shocked them again with her directness but as they had now finished their coffee break they had no reason to sit in the kitchen. Sensing that they were too nervous to answer Jean carried on.

"It's up to you - if you want to stay in here a while longer you can do – or if you prefer you can carry on in the garden."

Jean waited for a reaction and saw the boys silently glance quickly at each other.

"We'd like to stay in here," said one boy who had decided to be spokesman for the bunch.

"Then pour yourself more coffee if you like," smiled Jean. "I hope you are all very discrete and trustworthy - it would spoil things if you are not."

The boys' eyes widened and they hoped she meant what they thought she meant!

"Yes we are!" said their spokesman quickly. The others uttered their agreement and shuffled nervously in their seats.

"Good!" smiled Jean, then leaning back against the kitchen worktop she asked the boys an obvious question.

"So has looking at my body got you excited? Are you staying because you want to see more?"

Some nodded open mouthed and others mumbled a "yes."

Jean focused her attention on one particular boy and asked, "What did you enjoy seeing most – me bending over in the garden or were you admiring my breasts?"

The boy opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Eventually he blurted out, "Your stocking tops and suspenders!" He looked away, embarrassed by his admission, then, as his gaze returned to Jean she slowly slid her skirt up her thighs just far enough to reveal the bare flesh between stockings and panties. Leaning back again against the worktop to trap the skirt she was able to release her hands leaving her thighs on show.

The atmosphere was electric as the boys struggled to control their heavy breathing. Without success they also failed to disguise their swelling penises.

"Is this what you like to look at?" asked Jean seductively. The boys gasped and nodded, fidgeting in their seats. Jean stroked the inside of her thigh – and asked the next question.

"Would you like me to lift my skirt higher?" They didn't need to answer; they just waited for her to oblige. Before she did she let the hand that was stroking her thigh slowly creep up out of sight to her crotch. For a few seconds the boys watched her wrist movements and Jean smiled as she enjoyed herself masturbating in front of the four youths. Then, without stopping her movements she used her spare hand to slide her skirt all the way up showing the now damp front of her panties.