The Neighbor's Skirt

"You're just about ready to cum, aren't you?" she asked. He nodded in reply, in fact disappointed that he knew this would end soon. She removed her hands, which brought him back to earth to some degree, but relieved him as it gave him a moment to calm down. Opening a drawer under the counter, she pulled out a napkin. "You're making a mess."

She wiped the palms of her gloves with the napkin and then dabbed the fluid that dripped from his pulsating member. Then she folded the napkin in half and pulled the front of her dress out. His eyes devoured the sight -- he could see almost all the skin on her upper body, and the amazing swell of her breasts in a tight, lacy bra. She tucked the napkin into the top of her dress and grabbed his penis once again, holding the head right against the skin of her chest.

"Here, you can drip into this if you need to," she said, referring to the napkin. And that he did -- he released even more pre-ejaculate, which ran down her chest and got soaked up by the napkin. The warmth of her skin on his head was a new and exciting feeling, as was the sight of her holding his rod against her chest. She moved it back and forth, and it leaked all over her skin.

She chuckled and then smiled at him. Mrs. Wallace seemed to have turned from a vamp into kindly matron since she had started pleasuring him. It was as if there was a certain path to be navigated through in the act of the handjob. And she knew every step so well that she could make him feel as comfortable as possible while she guided him through each one. She knew everything he needed.

"What if I kiss it?" she asked, not expecting an answer. Her hand pulled his shaft from her chest toward her mouth, holding it stationary. Warm air circulated around his member as she exhaled on it. At last, she drew it forward and gave it a kiss. Her lips smacked together on the underside of his head. They planted little smooches across his head and shaft, tickling it. Then her lips opened and her tongue lashed out. Her mouth closed around his head and French kissed it. If her hands felt incredible, her mouth was otherworldly. Her tongue swirled around the head while her hand stroked the base of his shaft. He moaned and released more fluid and she sucked it down.

With a pop, the kiss broke. "Are you going to cum? Are you ready?" she asked.

"I'm almost there," he replied.

"I want you to cum right here, right on my chest," she informed him, letting his member rest against her skin again. Her chest glistened with his fluids. She held him with two hands and rubbed his head against her skin. His scrotum tightened against his body, intense pressure building in him.

"It's coming, Mrs. Wallace," he whispered. She stroked him as fast as she could as the eruption came.

"That's it, little guy, let it all out," she said as his semen splashed against her chest. He grunted as if he had never had an orgasm before. Compared to this, though, his other ones weren't orgasms. His seed squirted into her skin, but the feeling of it shooting through his urethra made him drive his hips forward. His penis pushed upward, forcing itself through her hand so that the bottom of the shaft rested against her chest. It completed its duty by releasing its last few gobs right up Mrs. Wallace's neck. It was done and his weight shifted back away from her. He was so far forward, though, that moving back had caused him to lose his balance. He fell on his bare butt, the kitchen floor's tiling cold against his skin.

His member gave a few more pulses and then began to shrivel. Mrs. Wallace pulled the napkin from her dress and dabbed at her chest. Seeing his juices spattered across her neck and chest, Mickey realized that he had left that little world where only he and Mrs. Wallace existed. Her chest looked beautiful, gleaming with cum. But the cost was that everything had to go back to normal. He would have to go back to the table and finish dinner with his parents, and Mrs. Wallace would have to pretend she had never done anything with him.

Droplets of cum ran down onto the tops of her breasts, so magnificently displayed in that dress. She poked at one with the napkin, then looked up at Mickey. "Go on, get washed up, quickly."

He stood up and pulled up his pants before running to the upstairs bathroom. Once he was gone, Mrs. Wallace opened up the drawer that held the china set case. Inside, next to the envelope, was one of her skirts. She unfolded it and drew a pair of panties from it. Balling up the panties, she wiped her neck and the top of her chest with them. Once she had scooped up a good amount of cum onto the panties, she took the skirt and used it to clean the rest of her chest. She laid them out on the floor, looking at the white stains that now covered them. Then she put the panties inside the skirt and folded the skirt so that the stains didn't show.

She got up and looked at the souffle. It had gone flat. Well, attempting to save the thing would provide a good excuse for why she had been gone so long. Reaching toward the ashtray, she found her cigarette had burnt out as well. She sighed and put on a mitt, pulling the ruined dessert out of the oven. Mickey walked back into the kitchen, recomposed. She put the souffle down on the counter.

"Mickey, there are two things I need to tell you. Number one, no one knows about this, ever, understand?"

He nodded. "I don't want anyone else to know either."

"Good. Second, I need you to give this skirt back to your mom. I borrowed it and I was supposed to give it back a long time ago. I want you to take it, but don't let her know I gave it back. I want it to be a surprise, so just leave it in your parents' closet."

"Got it," he said. She handed the folded skirt to him and he stuffed it inside his jacket.

"Now, you walk out to the dining room and act like you were feeling a bit faint, then I'll come out with the souffle and bemoan its death."

"Okay," he said, walking toward the door. He stopped and turned. "Mrs. Wallace, that was the most amazing thing I've ever felt. Do you think there's a chance we might...do it again sometime?"

"If I need you to cum again, yes," she winked.

Mickey looked at her, confused. Then he turned around again and walked through the kitchen door into the hallway.