The Finer Points of Sheila Ch. 01

"That's horse shit," I said, not caring anymore about anything other than her, "He wanted out from day one but was too chicken shit afraid to be a man and just leave with honor. He doesn't deserve you."

She was quiet for a moment.

"Why are you saying these things to me?" she asked suddenly, her voice filled with a real confusion. "I am forty-five years old, and yet you always treat me like some girl you've got a crush on. I catch you looking at me when you should be looking at Elle; you spend time with me when my own husband and daughter wont. My daughter is drunk off her ass, showing off her tits and pussy to the world and I know you've had chances to sleep with her, but you haven't. Why?"

I thought for a minute, searching for the right words to be as equally caring and forward as she was being. With a deep breath, I finally said, "Because, Sheila, Elle doesn't interest me the way you do. As great as a girl as she is, and as attractive as she is, she just doesn't make me feel the way you do. I've never said anything because you're her mom, you're married and your daughter is my best friend in the whole world."

"Wow," Sheila said, "I'm speechless."

"That's why it pisses me off so much that Tom does this to you, that he has gold in his hand, a real treasure and he just fucks it away because he can't find it within himself to pull his head out of his ass. You're gorgeous, everything a guy fantasizes about having whether it is just for sheer sexual fantasy or wondering about what kind of woman is worth marrying. In the end, all that goes together hand in hand, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she agreed and then asked, "You sure you're only eighteen?"

"Last time I checked," I laughed, "I know I've probably bitched up our friendship by telling you all this, and I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Sheila put her hand on mine, "It actually means a lot to me."

"Really?" I asked, not bothering to hide my surprise.

"Doug," she said, "Last night, when you held me and then helped me to bed was the most a man has touched me in ten years that had any meaning."

"No shit?"

"I can't believe we're talking about this," she laughed and looked at the ceiling, her mouth pursed into a smiled, "Tom and I have sex maybe thirty times in a year, all of it just for him and none of it for me. He doesn't care about me, or make me feel good about myself at all. I've started believing him when he puts me down."

"Sheila, are you insane? You have gorgeous eyes, a beautiful smile and perfect skin, hardly a wrinkle on you anywhere from what I can see."

She blushed again, and I could see her nipples getting hard under the sheer fabric of her nightgown. Her breasts were displayed to perfection, a generous line of cleavage showing as she leaned over the table and held my hand, her tits pushed up and resting on her forearm. I wondered if she let her cleavage show because she had forgotten all about it, or because she wanted me to see. I felt myself starting to become aroused as my eyes darted to her tits quickly, memorizing them, fixating on the fine points that each protruding nipple created in the white cups of the gown.

"I have a confession as well," she said as her finger stroked my thumb, "I've been noticing you more and more this last year. You've become a man, and you're very attractive Doug. You have a handsome face and your body is perfect. I can't tell you how many times I've looked at your ass."

"Shit," I laughed, feeling my stomach erupt with butterflies.

"I'm not kidding," she said seriously, "Does that make you uncomfortable, an older woman like me finding you attractive?"

"Not at all."

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Always," I said, squeezing her hand.

"Have you ever," she began, shyly looking away and then back at me again, "Ever masturbated thinking about me?"

It was my turn to blush. "Yes, I have. A lot actually."

She nodded, a big grin stretched across her face. It was so good to see her smile again like that. She only said, "Really?"

"Yeah, really," I said, and feeling more bold and I added, "A few times in your bathroom."

"Oh stop it," she slapped my hand playfully.

"No kidding," I said, putting the ice pack down, "Four times during this last summer, mostly while I helped Tom put together that shed out in the back. You were doing a lot of swimming then, and that blue bathing suit you wore was unbelievable."

"The one piece?"

"That's the one," I confirmed, feeling my cock ready to rip through my pants. I wanted her so bad my head was swimming.

"I had no idea," she said amazed, "But I will tell you I watched you work a lot, especially when you had your shirt off. Why do you think I sunbathed so much? I wanted to watch you. It was pathetic when Tom took his off, because he has tits as big as mine, only with a covering of third generation Italian air."

"Fuckin' Sasquatch," I laughed, and she joined me. We laughed for a while like that, thoroughly entranced with each other and enjoying the moment. When we stopped, there was an awkward moment between us, and I knew she was debating with herself about me, whether or not to act out on the urges that I hoped, that I knew were overcoming her as my own did me.

"Doug," she began.

"Wait," I put my hand up, all of sudden possessed of a confidence I had never known before in my life, and I said, "You're about to say that we can't do this, that we have to stop because it's wrong. Maybe it is, but I have to tell you this Sheila; I want you. I've wanted you since I first knew what sex was, since I first could appreciate the curves of your hips and breasts, the smell of your hair, the smooth feel of your skin. Maybe I do lust after Elle, but I can control that. I can't with you."

Sheila took it all in for a moment, and then said, "Doug, I was actually going to say I wanted to fuck you."

"Oh."

"But I love what you said anyway," she said as she got up and stood in front of me. She pulled the straps of her gown down around her biceps and let it fall a little, her breasts almost revealed, their exposure hinging only on her letting go.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't know if this is right," she whispered and then let the gown fall away, "But I do know that you make me feel young again, and that tonight, right now, I want you more than anything."

My eyes grazed over her body, taking in the impossible dimensions of her breasts, how full and defiant they were of her age. Her nipples were pink and erect, the areolas large and proportional to her breasts. In the kitchen light, they cast twin shadows that hid her stomach, a little pooched out as result of her pregnancy with Elle, a reminder that would never go away. Her vagina was shaved clean; her thighs free of cellulite and as evenly tanned as the rest of her. The gown dropped to the floor and bunched up around her bare feet. Her hair hung down in a vibrant bronzed sepia waterfall, the ends coming to rest just below her collarbone.

"You're gorgeous," I said.

I stood up, my erection painfully restrained and as I looked at her, I pulled my shirt off. She hungrily looked my body over, taking in every thing from my fine, dark chest hair, pecs and shoulders to my abs and navel.

"Take your pants off too," she whispered.

I undid the fly and pulled them down, slipping my shoes off and pushing it all aside. My cock was rock hard in my boxers, making a sizable bulge. I was only seven inches, but I was thick, and my head was larger than normal if any of what the seven women I had been with prior to this night had told me was true.

"Your underwear," she licked her lips, "Lose them."

I smiled and took them off, letting my erection free for her to see. Sheila looked at me for a long time, as if though my dick had entranced her somehow. I could feel a little pre-cum oozing from my tip as she looked at me.

"You're so much bigger than Tom," she said, "How big are you?"

"I'm seven, maybe seven and half," I answered, feeling my ego rocket sky-high, "How big was Tom?"

"Five inches," she muttered.

"Sad."

"Start stroking your cock for me," she said as she leaned against the wall, "I want you to stroke your self and cum for me."

I began stroking my shaft, alternately rubbing my head as I leaned against the sink and closed my eyes. I couldn't believe this was even happening.

"Keep your eyes on me," she said as she began rubbing her nipples, rolling them back and forth between her thumbs and forefingers. "I want your first orgasm out of the way, so we can last longer."

"Okay," I whispered, already feeling the throes of an orgasm latch into me.

"Do you want me, Doug?" she whispered huskily as she kneaded her tits, pressing them together and teasing me as I stroked myself faster.

"Yes," I managed.

"Do you want to fuck my pussy?"

"Yes."

"Do you want fuck my tits?"

"Yes," I moaned as I watched her lick her nipples, her tongue slowly circling each nub and then disappearing into her mouth as she sucked on one, and then the other.

"Would you like to fuck my tits, Doug?" she asked again, driving her point home.

"God yes," the words staggered out of my mouth as I felt the heat rising from within. Just the thought of my cock between her huge tits was like an concentrated aphrodisiac. Sheila saw my impending orgasm building to a roar as she slipped her fingers into her cunt and began masturbating. She brought a wet finger to her mouth as she played with her nipple, and sucked on it.

"I want you Doug..."

And I came. I moaned as every muscle in my body tightened and I released my load, grunting against my teeth as hot cum jetted from the tip of cock in a powerful, long stream. I blasted spurt after spurt of semen in thick ropes that landed by her feet and then began receding back in sticky puddles as the orgasm ebbed. I could hear a gob of it splatter mutedly on the floor.

"Yes," she whispered and walked over to me, pulling me to her. Our bodies met, her skin so smooth against my own as she kissed me, her pent up sexual frustration escaping into my mouth and spreading throughout my body. Her breasts were firm against me, the nipples poking me delightfully. To my surprise, my cock was starting to recover, something that rarely happened for me so soon after an orgasm. She grinded against me, her pussy sopping and musky leaving my cock, balls and thighs wet as we kissed, naked in the kitchen and puppets to our own desires.

I prayed Tom didn't come home, and I hoped that Elle's indisposition lasted for at least another hour.

"I've wanted this for so long," she huffed against my neck, giving me a hicky as she stroked my growing cock.

"Tell me about it," I breathed as I massaged her tits, finally able to touch what I had coveted for years. She felt amazing, like heaven as my fingers caressed her nipples and glided across her soft flesh. I cupped her breasts in my hands, letting my obsession with them take hold. She was pumping my cock, priming it for what was to come as she kissed me again, her tongue furiously establishing dominance over me.

"Alright Sheila," I smiled at her as I guided her away from me and led her to the table, "Sit on the table."

She smiled devilishly, "Okay..."

"Lay back."

She did, and the solid oak table held. Her massive breasts fell away and off to the sides as she settle on her back. I parted her thighs wide open, and got my first good view of her pussy. It was so bare, pink and wet as I looked at her. There wasn't a hint of any odor except a sweet musky smell that lighted to my nose like an instinctual perfume. It was raw and powerful, a testament to her sexual arousal and need for me. I lowered my face to her swollen mound and breathed her in.

I licked her lips slowly, teasing her as I varied the pressure and twist of my tongue against her. I began to gently let my tongue slip into her pussy, tasting the sweet nectar of her sex. Sheila moaned a little and shifted as I teased, and I could see her playing with her nipples again. I began exploring every fold, every inch of her vagina with my tongue until my reach could go no further. My chin was dripping with her fluids as her wetness slowly dribbled down my neck. She was so wet it was crazy, and I wondered if this was what happened when a woman couldn't be satisfied by her lover for a long period of time? Did all of it just build up, waiting to be released like a volcano?

I noticed her clit was already out of hiding and brought my lips down to it. I teased her hard button, flicking it and rubbing it with my tongue, gently attacking it and making her moan loudly now.

"Oh shit, yes," she moaned as she pulled at her nipples and bit her lower lip, "Fuck yes, just like that."

I don't know how long I was down there, and truth be told I was being turned on as much by this as she was. Her moans and whimpering, her desperate "yes's" were causing my cock to become like a piece of steel as I ate her out. Finally, with a scream that echoed throughout the kitchen, she orgasmed hard and scooted her self across the table a little bit in conjuncture with each spasm. A flood of her cum splashed me as she screamed, her hands grasping the table top so hard that her veins popped out, her muscles flexed in shock.

"Yes baby, yes," she whispered, pulling me to her on top of the table. My cock slid against her wetness as I kissed her breasts, licking them and suckling them.

"Fuck me," she said as she pulled my face to hers, "Fuck me."

"Yes," I said, lost in the pleasure as she grasped my cock and slid it into her. I moaned unabashedly loud as she took me in, her hot wet tunnel a perfect fit my throbbing cock. My head created an ungodly tension against her inner walls as I finally slid in to the hilt, my cock completely hidden inside her. She moaned, her mouth an open "O" of pleasure as she devoured me with her eyes. We began fucking, the table creaking as we humped. Her tits swayed and bounced with our rhythm as we made love, right in the middle of a table that I had ate dinner at so many times before. We kissed frantically as we lost track of time, only knowing each other and nothing else.

Soon, I was close again as I relished everything about her. I can remember odd moments of clarity when in the haze of my lust, I could clearly see every bump of her areolas and the barely visible thin blue veins on the undersides of her breasts. I remembered her eyes, and the gold flecks of color that peppered her bronze irises. She whispered something to me as her pussy tightened around my shaft like a strong hand and I felt a rush of fluid again, soaking my balls.

She yanked me to her and I felt her bite into my shoulder, her fingernails piercing my back as she orgasmed again. Her spasming was the catalyst for my second orgasm, and I blew my load inside her. As I throbbed and my vision clouded, we were locked together, unable to move. Her legs were wrapped around me in a vice-like grip as she rode the last of her orgasm, her face buried against me as I tried not to crush her with my weight. We rolled to our side and held each other as I slowly felt my cock lose its hardness inside her, gradually returning to its normal resting position.

I was about to say how fantastic that was when the table legs gave out and we went crashing to the floor. We lay there in the rubble shocked for a moment, listening for any movement upstairs. After five minutes, we began giggling and then laughing. We kissed on the broken table for a little while longer and then realized I had to get home. I remembered my mother and father would be worried, and I probably was going to be hung for being out so late. We quickly cleaned up and got dressed.

"That was fucking fantastic," I marveled as I tied my boots up.

"You are amazing," she glowed as she looked at me, her nightgown back on and hiding her incredible body again, "You sure you're only eighteen?"

"Yeah," I laughed, "A fact my parents will remind me of when I get home."

"Damn," she said, "I am so sorry about that. There's nothing I can do help with that."

"I know," I said as I kissed her, "But you are worth any punishment I might get over this."

"We're crazy, you know."

"I know."

She looked at the table, and then looked thoughtfully at me. "I guess I can tell Elle she came home drunk and broke the table. She won't remember."

I laughed. "Evil."

"Necessary," she replied as she looked at her ring finger and pulled the two rings off with one deft move. She looked at the gold bands for a moment and then put them on the counter, "Just like this is necessary."

I smiled. "I'll see you later?"

"You better," she pulled me to her and kissed me, "I didn't cross this forbidden line only to have you for one night."

"And," I said as I licked her lips and massaged her tits, "You owe me a tit-fucking..."

Sheila smiled.

... to be continued...