The Widow Parsons

"Yes, ma'am," he replied and turned to go.

As he departed he took a quick glance at Mrs. Parsons' cum-soaked sweater, a little smile creasing his lips. He felt pretty good about himself, and wondered if perhaps he might tell his friends, Ron and Bob, about this.

"Now, remember, Christopher, don't tell anyone about this, not even your best friends. Once you tell one person, then that person will inevitably tell another. This will be our own little secret."

"Absolutely ma'am, definitely." His friends probably wouldn't believe him anyway.

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

Chris did soon return. He was even wearing a brand new pair of boxers that he just got from the store. Mrs. Parsons seemed to like the sports theme. He wasn't sure if he should get the one with golf clubs or the one with footballs. The clubs seemed nicely phallic to him, but football was a more masculine sport. He got the one with the footballs.

Betty though had beaten him to the punch. She opened the door dressed only in matching brassiere and panties. Actually, she also had on black high heels. But, it wasn't the heels that drew Chris' attention, at least not yet.

His eyes bugged out at Mrs. Parsons' full luscious boobs, snugly wrapped in an ivory cotton brassiere with embroidered little red flowers, trimmed with delicate pink lace, and a deep, plunging cleavage. He would so much like to bury his face in there.

Chris had no real experience with women's brassieres, but right now he definitely appreciated their value. Mrs. Parsons' boobs looked so wonderfully round and proud. Perhaps they would look even better naked, but Chris had already largely seen that. He had to admit that, right now, they might look even better. They were just so alluring, wrapped so tightly in their soft feminine apparel, so fucking big and round.

He felt he could even detect one of Mrs. Parsons' nipples poking through the thin tight fabric. Funny, he had seen her nipple the other day and knew well how it looked naked. Yet, it now seemed much more enticing, trying to poke through her brassiere.

"Christopher, so nice to see you," Betty greeted him, ignoring her state of half-undress. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

Chris' dick swelled within his football boxers, contemplating that Mrs. Parsons was answering the door dressed only in her undies. His eyes immediately went down to her panties.

Her cotton bikini panties matched her brassiere. She was possibly about as old as his mother, but he could not imagine his mother dressing in such a manner, behaving in such a manner, answering the door dress only in sexy lingerie. Mr. Parsons had clearly been a very lucky man.

Betty wasn't being entirely honest with the young man. She had been expecting him, and had in fact seen him walking up her driveway and had immediately stripped off the rest of her clothes.

It was perhaps a bit risky, as she was exposing herself not only to Christopher but potentially as well to anyone else who happened to be walking by, or looking across the street. But, she just wanted to do it. She had done it once for Jack when he got home from work. He seemed to like it.

Chris' eyes were now fixed on the soft v-shaped mound rising out from Mrs. Parsons' panties. He knew what was hidden beneath there. It was no secret to him, but it was nevertheless still terribly captivating.

And then it struck him that if Mrs. Parsons hadn't been expecting him, why was she opening the door in her underwear? He was quickly learning how daring was his neighbor. "Um, well..." He tentatively asked, "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Well, certainly, Christopher, please do, yes, of course." She stepped back and waved him inside, her heart racing with the excitement of her licentious exposure. She hadn't felt so alive in years. She did though quickly shut the door behind him, glad to have escaped her impulsive act without any real cost.

Well, there was still some potential cost, some risk. She was dressed only in her undies in front of a neighbor boy. She immediately wondered if she could really trust him. But, of course, it was a little late for that concern. That ship had long since sailed. "What brings you over?" It was an absurd question, particularly in her state of undress, but she enjoyed making him say it.

"Oh! Yes, well, um, well, as you suggested, Mrs. Parsons. I, well, you know, I think I need..." He lowered his voice, as if he could be overheard, "some relief."

"Of course, of course, Christopher, excellent. Are you excited right now?"

He was indeed, but his face flushed as he confessed, "Well...yeah."

"Really? Let's see!"

"What?"

"Take it out. Let Mrs. Parsons have a look."

Taking it out, of course, would be a necessary step leading to his masturbation, but Chris was a bit taken aback by the rather sudden, immediate request.

Betty suggested, "You don't need to take your pants down. Just pull it out."

Well, so much for showing her his new boxers. Chris though dutifully unzipped and reached in to extract his erection. It wasn't that easy getting it out, being all stiff and everything.

Betty considered helping the young man, or at least letting him pull his pants down a bit, but she also enjoyed watching him struggle. He clearly so much wanted to please her, yet was having so much difficulty.

It wasn't really that long though before it was out.

"Oh yes, Christopher, you are indeed a boy in need of some assistance," Mrs. Parsons said, smiling with approval, and interest.

Chris smiled as well. It might look a bit incongruous, poking out from his pants like that, but he was feeling rather proud of it.

Mrs. Parsons asked, "Christopher, would you like some cookies?"

"What?"

She explained, "I baked some ginger cookies. Would you like some?"

Cookies? While he was being masturbated? That somehow didn't seem right. "No, no, that's okay," but as soon as he said that he wondered if it was a mistake. His mother often said never to refuse a woman's home-made treats. It was insulting. She could very well have made them just for him. Actually, for whom else would Mrs. Parsons bake cookies? And, besides, he really did like ginger cookies. "No, wait," he quickly added. "I like ginger cookies. Sure, I'll have one."

Betty smiled. "Really?! That's wonderful! They're my favorite as well. Come to the kitchen, and we'll have some." Betty turned and headed to the kitchen, her heels clicking across the hallway's hardwood floor.

Christopher followed along behind her, his eyes fixed on the sway of her hips and bikini panty clad bottom. Women do have a rather nice way of walking. Yes, he was very excited indeed.

When they reached the kitchen Betty bent over the round kitchen table to retrieve her tray of freshly baked cookies.

Chris would have to admit that they did smell nice, almost as much as the sight of her bottom thrusting out toward him as she reached for the tray. A woman's butt gets so nicely big and round when she is bent over, the panties stretching so tightly along the curves, the pouch of her cunnie so clearly evident between her thighs. She even seemed to be waving it back and forth at him, like she was try to give him some sort of signal.

He felt such an urge to step up to the woman and thrust his erection against her butt, pressing her hard against the kitchen table, perhaps even fucking her right there. Now, that was a nice thought. Screwing a pretty, sexy woman, almost old enough to be his mother, bent over her kitchen table, upon which sat her freshly baked cookies. What really could be better? Well, perhaps quite a few things, but it's a special treat to have a woman pleasing a man in her kitchen with freshly baked cookies wearing sexy lingerie. Life doesn't get too much better than that. Well, at least not for Christopher.

But, before he could act on his fantasy, Mrs. Parsons lifted up the plate of cookies and turned around to face him, the plate poised just beneath her breasts, as if they were also being offered as one of her delicious home-made treats.

"Cookie, Christopher?"

"Sure, Mrs. Parsons," he replied and reached out for one, requiring all of his discipline and self-control not to grasp a breast instead.

Actually, one cookie might not be enough. He did really like ginger cookies. He took another, and then one more, perhaps for later. He stuck the third one in his pants pocket, just to the right of his exposed stiff boner.

Mrs. Parsons placed the tray on the kitchen counter.

Chris took a bite of one of the two in his hand, as Mrs. Parsons reached out to lightly grasp his erection.

Whoa! These were really good, he thought. They could be even better than his mother's. Of course, it might have something to do with his erection sticking out of his pants being gently, lightly fondled by the woman as he munched away.

"These are really good, Mrs. Parsons."

She asked, "Do you really think so?" still caressing his shaft and knob with the tips of her fingers. "If you like, I'll give your mother the recipe."

He took another bite. "Oh, yeah, sure, that'd be great," but then realized he really shouldn't be talking while still eating.

It would also be nice to have some milk with the cookie. He wondered if it would be rude to ask.

Betty slipped her fingers down farther to very gently cup and caress his little testicles. They felt so soft, so, tender.

Chris at first flinched, and then squirmed. He was pretty ticklish under there. He hoped she wouldn't figure that out. That wouldn't seem particularly masculine.

Betty could tell he was a little ticklish there. She considered teasing him about it, but she had something else in mind.

"You know," Betty suggested, a little mischievous smile on her face as she fondled the boy's squishy juicy testicles, "I do like to dip my ginger cookies into tasty cream. Do you like to do that?"

"Yeah, sure!" He would have preferred milk, but cream was probably nice too.

Betty asked, "Perhaps you have some nice warm cream for me, Christopher?"

"What?" He hadn't brought anything with him, let alone cream, and why would Mrs. Parsons want her cream to be warm? Who likes warm cream? Chris then finally got her meaning and his face flushed, embarrassed by the fact that he had missed it. He said softly, "Um...well, yeah."

Betty giggled as she squatted down onto the kitchen floor, bringing her face to the level of the young man's jutting penis. "Mmmmmmm," she sighed, a contented smile creasing her lips. It had been so long since she had one of these in her mouth, so very long. She almost forgot how they tasted, and this would be a young fresh one. The boy liked her freshly baked warm cookie; Betty liked her fresh young hot cock.

Chris paused in the munching of his cookie to look down at Mrs. Parsons, down into the deep cleavage of her brassiere, appearing below his thrusting dick, which was now just inches from her lips. No boy could ever be so lucky, so fortunate, as him. His friends would be so amazed, so astonished, if they knew.

Perhaps though no more astonished than him. He was actually going to have a woman place her lips around his dick!? Every boy long dreams for this moment. Chris had been unsure if it ever would happen, even if someday he was lucky enough to get married. It just seemed to him to be something that a good girl simply wouldn't do. After all, he did pee with it. And, well, finally, he would have to admit, the thought of placing his lips on a woman's cunt seemed rather disgusting. There was no way it could be as sweet and tasty as this cookie. He took another bite, filling his mouth with the sugary treat of tasty ginger cookie.

But then he almost choked on it as Mrs. Parsons absorbed his knob into her mouth, and began licking and lapping away at it, as if it was even better than the tastiest cookie she could ever eat.

Chris immediately gulped down his bite of cookie and gasped, "Mrs. Parsons!" through the remaining crumbs in his mouth and the most intense pleasure he may have ever felt. It was like sparks were zinging across his knob as her tongue splished and splashed its way around its curves.

Yes, Betty thought, it did indeed taste very, very nice. Clearly not as sweet as ice cream but it did have its own uniquely satisfying flavor and, of course, just the fact that it was the knob of a young man, embedded within her mouth, provided its own intense gratification. She so much loved being a woman.

Chris gripped the edge of the kitchen counter with his hands, his legs feeling rather unsteady, albeit still holding onto half a cookie. He instinctively, involuntarily, but so wantonly, slowly began to slide his cock deeper into Mrs. Parsons' mouth. His eyes were mesmerized by the sight of his dick slowly disappearing through her lipsticked red lips, deeper into her mouth. He was actually fucking a woman in the face!

She didn't mind. She in fact liked that he wasn't just being passive, that he was engaging with her, pushing his hardened dick in and out of her mouth. She liked it when a man fucked her in the mouth. It was just so personal, so intimate, so fucking lewd.

The sounds of Chris munching on hard cookie was now replaced by the slobbering sloshing sounds of Betty's sloppy slurping of Christopher's dick. If the shoe had been on the other foot Chris suspected that Mrs. Parsons would admonish him for his poor table manners. Certainly his mother would scold him, even if it was the most juiciest lollypop he ever had.

Chris watched his dick sliding in and out of Mrs. Parsons' mouth, just above the soft white valley of her deep cleavage, within which her saliva occasionally spilled. He momentarily paused, just to enjoy the view. A boy would enjoy so much just crawling down into that soft, warm, squishy canyon of breast flesh.

Betty looked up at him, her long curved lashes fluttering across her deep brown eyes. Any woman looks so pretty, so sweet, looking up at a man whilst his cock is embedded within her mouth, a look of contentment and adoration on her face, clearly enjoying so much the presence of his hard stiff dick in her mouth.

Chris wondered how much of it he could fit into her mouth, how much she could take. He slowly inched his dick in farther, his eyes fixed on hers.

Betty could tell, could feel, his intention. A twinkle appeared in her eyes, a smile on her lips, and she encouraged him further, taking hold of his buttocks with her hands to pull him in deeper and deeper, and deeper still.

Betty had deep throated her husband a few times. She never found it that terribly easy. Perhaps her throat was unusually ticklish or unyielding, but Christopher was smaller than Jack, and she figured it really wouldn't be that difficult. She continued to caress the shaft with her tongue as his knob passed by, to slip down her throat.

A smile appeared on Chris' lips as he witnessed most of his dick disappearing into Mrs. Parsons' mouth. A part of him didn't really want her to be able to take him, wanting her to discover that he was really too big, too much of a man for her mouth to handle. But, it would also be so cool to be able to say, or at least to see, that she took his complete cock into her mouth and down her throat.

But, as soon as the knob hit the delicate nerves in the back of her throat, Betty was immediately overwhelmed by intense gagging.

"Ech!" Betty's eyes watered up and she suddenly pulled back. "Splch!" she hacked, her spine sharply bending, curving, as she retched, coughed, and gagged, releasing his dick from her mouth, her hand going to her throat, trying to control the intense reflexive action.

"Awrkghh! Echsplch!"

Betty was embarrassed to be making such disgusting noises, as if his cock had made her sick or something, but she just couldn't help herself.

Chris felt even worse, feeling that it was really all his fault. He even wondered if he may have in fact actually hurt her. "Are you okay, Mrs. Parsons?"

"Yes, yes," she quickly responded, her voice a bit shaky, one hand resting on his abdomen, steadying herself, the other clasping her throat, trying to calm down the spasms. Well, apparently some acquired skills are lost and need a bit of practice before they fully return. That was a lesson learned.

She looked up at him, her large brown eyes a bit watery. "Sorry, Chris, goodness, you're just so big."

Chris felt a wave of pride sweep through him. He wondered if she had ever been able to take her husband that way. "That's okay, Mrs. Parsons. I understand."

Betty got back on her feet, her hand gripping his stiffie. "You know, Chris," she suggested, "I have some pie that you might also find tasty."

"Pie?" He did like pie, very much so, but frankly it was weird enough to be still eating his cookie while face fucking her. She really wasn't suggesting that they stop to have pie. He politely replied, "No, no, that's okay. The cookies are enough, Mrs. Parsons." His mother would not approve of him turning down a homemade desert, but goodness there was plenty more to do than to eat pie.

Betty smiled with amusement and provided clarification. She spoke slowly, clearly, "I meant a very special, personal...womanly pie, Christopher."

"What?...Oh...Oh!" He had done it again. He felt like such an idiot.

She asked as she tenderly fingered his wetted stiff dick. "Have you ever eaten a woman's pie before, Christopher?"

He hated these questions, each one making it clearer and clearer how inexperienced he really was. "Um, well, no, not really, I guess."

Betty smiled. It was not a vague question. "Well, you'll have to put the cookie away first." He probably wasn't intending on continuing to eat his cookie as he munched on her pie, but she didn't want to take any chances.

"Sure, yeah, of course," Chris replied. He immediately laid the half-eaten cookie on the counter and wiped his lips with his shirt sleeve, but then as quickly realized that was rather impolite. His mother always hated it when he did that. He considered apologizing but he didn't want to draw any further attention to his poor etiquette than was necessary.

Betty provided further guidance. "Get down on your knees, in front of me."

"Oh yeah, sure, sure." Chris immediately complied, his dick still sticking out in front of him, bobbing mightily as he got down onto his knees.

Betty asked, "Will you pull my panties down for me, Christopher?"

"Oh yes! Absolutely, Mrs. Parsons!"

Chris' eyes were at the same level as Mrs. Parsons' panties, and only a few inches away. He now had an even better appreciation for the sweetness of her undies. They looked so feminine, so delectable, so enchanting. He briefly wondered why women would hide such things beneath their skirts. Yes it was for the one rare moment when the skirt would finally be raised, but it just seemed a terrible shame to keep such a thing hidden for any period of time.

Betty reminded the young man, "Pull them down, Christopher."

"Right! Sure!" Chris quickly looped his fingers into the waistband of Mrs. Parsons' panties, and with his hands trembling a bit, pulled them down to her ankles, keeping his eyes respectfully averted from her pussy. He even helped her step out of them, which proved to be important as it wasn't that easy for her to do so in her heels.

Once removed he wondered what he should do with them. He would like to put them into his pocket. They would make a wonderful souvenir, as well as come in handy some evening, albeit he did wonder how he might keep them hidden from his mother. Actually, that wouldn't be that hard. He had a special spot deep in a locked wooden trunk where his mother never ever went, or at least so he assumed. But, of course, Mrs. Parsons would notice they were gone, being part of a set, and most definitely she would never let him have them. Heck, what if his mother did in fact find them. He just held onto them with his hand.