Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Over the next year, I probably entered Miss Sarah's bedroom a hundred times for the sole purpose of sniffing her panties. Yes, I know that the last sentence sums it up rather well: what a pathetic and extremely perverted thing to do. Well, and if that's what you think, you're right. I knew how sad and pathetic it was at the time I was doing it, but I couldn't stop. I was obsessed. I was possessed.
About a year after Gretchen and Sarah moved to Georgia, Gretchen and I got married. Even after we were married, I continued to crave the smell of Miss Sarah's panties and I continued to peruse her dirty laundry regularly for fragrant undies.
It was like an addiction. I needed to smell her panties, I needed to know how it would smell to have my face near her heavenly slit. I did what was necessary to satisfy that need. Was this what a Southern gentleman would do? Absolutely not! Was I ashamed of myself every time I did it? Absolutely! Did the shame ever deter me from my obsession? Not once!
I don't know if my frequent intrusions went unnoticed but nothing was ever said on the subject.
* * *
After living in the house for about a year, I noticed that the bathroom door had a sizeable crack at the bottom. It occurred to me that perhaps if I laid on the floor, I could look under the door and see into the bathroom. As soon as I was left alone in the house, I tried it but all I could see was the bathroom floor. Maybe a mirror would help me to see under the door and into the bathroom.
I found a small mirror, closed the bathroom door, and rested the mirror at an angle on the floor at the bottom of the door. Voile! I could see the bottom 5 feet of the door at the opposite end of the bathroom. I was concerned that perhaps the mirror would be visible to anyone, like Miss Sarah, who was in the bathroom so I left the mirror propped up in place and entered the bathroom via the other door. When I looked at where I knew the mirror to be, it was not visible. I immediately knew what would happen next.
Gretchen was frequently gone in the afternoons and early evenings and this was when Miss Sarah would usually take a shower. The next time we were alone, Miss Sarah announced that she was going to take a shower and I very nonchalantly said, "Okay, honey."
If I tried to use the mirror to watch her as she undressed in the bathroom, I faced the possibility that she might realize she had forgotten something in her bedroom and would then open the bathroom door to find me kneeling there with a mirror in hand. Obviously, that would be disastrous and I had to be more careful than that. I grabbed the mirror but waited for her to begin and then finish her shower. I would take my look as she was exiting the bathtub.
I am sure that she stayed in the shower at least 30 minutes that night, as if she knew I was waiting and wanted to torture me with the agony of waiting almost forever for what I hoped would be a wonderful sight. Finally, I heard her turn off the water and I knelt at the door with mirror positioned. I was soon rewarded.
She exited the bathtub and stood facing the door, drying her hair. I could very clearly see her pussy and boobs. I had already seen her boobs but the view of her pussy was a new sight. She had shaved her pubic hair and her pussy looked like it belonged on a little girl. It was so very cute! Contrary to my assumptions, she did not have protruding labia like her mother. No, she had a very simple slit between two very full outer lips.
I certainly wanted to fling that door open and run to her so that I could bury my tongue in her pussy but, of course, I did not do that. She stopped drying her hair and started walking towards the door. I moved as quickly as I have ever moved in my life, returning to the kitchen within 2 seconds and putting the mirror back where I had found it.
Miss Sarah stayed in the bathroom for another 5 minutes. When she walked out, she had the towel wrapped around her body so that it covered her boobs and it hung just low enough to cover her pussy and ass as she walked the few steps to her bedroom. Maybe she didn't realize how her behavior was teasing me but my balls ached for release. I probably used the mirror-at-the-bathroom-door trick another 15 to 20 times over the next year and masturbated afterwards at least 15 of those times.
* * *
Gretchen went to Ohio to visit friends for several weeks during the particularly hot summer after Miss Sarah had finally graduated from high school, leaving her and me together without adequate adult supervision. The first Saturday that Gretchen was gone, I told Miss Sarah that I was going out to the pool. I asked if she would join me to give me some pointers on swimming, since she is an excellent swimmer and I am, at best, an excellent sinker. She agreed and went to her room to change into her bikini.
I always thought that the girl looked particularly hot in a bikini and my dick certainly agreed. I was already in the water when she came out to the pool. I had an instant erection, of course. She got in the water and said, "Okay. Let's work on you floating."
With that, she got in the water and she looked even sexier when she was wet. Mr. Boing went from 9.9 steel to 10.0 case-hardened steel. Miss Sarah walked over to me, placed one hand behind my back and the other behind my knees, sweeping me up so that I had no choice but to float. It was quite obvious that I had a tent pole in my swim suit and I saw her carefully checking it out but she didn't say a word and, eventually, it subsided.
When we were finished, I went inside to change. Gretchen and I almost never closed our bedroom door when we were changing. Miss Sarah was the only other person in the house and she never came into our bedroom without knocking or announcing that she needed to enter the room. So, by habit, I didn't close the bedroom door. I removed all of my clothes, dried myself, and pulled on my whitey-tighties.
"Ron, can we . . .," said a familiar female voice that was much closer than I expected it to be.
I looked up and Miss Sarah was standing just a few feet away, watching, her mouth left slightly open as she paused mid-sentence. She was still in her wet bikini, looking like the ultimate queen of all desirable teenage virgins. I don't know how long she had been standing there but the thought of her seeing me naked got me instantly hard again and, this time, she was not discreet in observing my state of arousal.
". . . go out for dinner tonight?" She got a smile on her face. "That is, if you can get your pants on." With that comment, she turned and walked out of the room.
As soon as I got dressed, I went to find her so I could ask about how long she had been looking at me. I didn't know if she would mention this to her mother and thought that it would be better if I addressed this with her first rather than simply waiting to see what, if anything, might happen.
Her bedroom door was open and the light was on so I assumed she was in her bedroom. I stopped in the doorway and saw her standing at her closet, looking through her wardrobe. She had removed her bikini top but was still wearing her bikini bottoms. "Dear . . .," I began.
She turned and faced me, making no effort to cover her tits. The sight of those nipples had me hard again and I didn't need to look to know that my pants were tenting once again. Damn this was frustrating!
She waited a moment for me to finish my sentence but I didn't. I couldn't. She said "I'm not sure but I think I'm going to wear my green shorts today. Do you think I should wear my dark green panties or my light green thong?"
That question just made matters worse for me. "I'm color-blind, so I don't care if you wear any panties at all," I said, realizing as soon as the words left my lips that this sentence made no sense whatsoever. I turned and left her room, finding my way back to my bathroom so I could relieve my problem. As soon as I got to my bedroom, I removed my pants and undies. Again, I didn't bother to close the bedroom door or the door into the master bathroom. At this point, I didn't care whether she came in and watched. I just started stroking my rod and it didn't take long before I was shooting out jets of cum, my eyes closed, lost in fantasies about my mouth and her tits.
* * *
Over the next few weeks, while her mother was still in Ohio, Miss Sarah began walking around the house in just her panties and bra. Sometimes, she would wear just her panties and a short silk robe that she left untied. It hung over her boobs so that her nipples weren't exposed unless she bent over, turned around quickly, or sat down so that the robe gaped open. Her panties were usually very form fitting and, now that she apparently shaved her pubic hair, the crotch of her panties followed the contours of that delightful pussy so that she had an obvious camel toe.
I figured that what was good for the goose would be good for the gander. I began to change out of all my clothes except my undies fairly early in the evening and put on a robe that I, too, left untied. I walked into the family room and sat down to watch TV. I reclined on my side and positioned my legs so that they were in a "frog" position, feet touching, knees apart with legs at an angle to each other. My crotch would be very clearly exposed if Miss Sarah sat down next to me.
Within a few minutes, she walked into the family room and asked what I was watching. I have no idea what I was watching but she pretended to be interested and sat down at the opposite end of the couch. By taking this position, it almost looked innocent and natural that she would sit down facing me rather than the TV. Initially, she turned her head so that she was, indeed, watching what was on the TV. I was watching her through my peripheral vision and I soon noticed her checking me out yet again.
My awareness of her looking at my undies caused my dick to start twitching. As soon as she saw some movement in my underwear, her gaze became even more intent and her eyes widened slightly. Excellent, I thought. She's turned on by this, too.
Less than a minute later, Miss Sarah said that she was going to bed and she got up and walked to her room. I heard the bedroom door shut and I immediately thought that was peculiar because she always slept with her door open. I could also see light coming under the door from within her bedroom so I knew she wasn't in bed. The sound on the TV was turned down so the house was very quiet.
As I stood at her bedroom door, I listened and heard a humming noise. About 30 seconds later, I heard her beginning to moan. She was in her bedroom using a vibrator to masturbate!
I was immediately filled with such an intense sexual rush. My little Miss Sarah was in her bedroom masturbating. She was using a vibrator and I didn't even know that she owned one. She was masturbating immediately after watching my dick twitch. While masturbating, she was probably fantasizing about my dick. She wanted my dick.
I knew then that I wanted to fuck her. I didn't care that it was wrong. I didn't care what would happen to me afterwards. I just wanted to shoot my cum into that shaved little pussy.
* * *
Miss Sarah did not lack intelligence but she did lack any sense of dedication to her education. Despite her constant assurances that she was doing well in school, her report cards told a different story. At the midpoint of her senior year in high school, whether she would actually get the grades to graduate on schedule was in doubt.
Having always done well in school, I could not understand why she seemed so unconcerned about her poor school performance. It was if she was living in a dream world, talking about going to college and becoming a veterinarian while, in reality, she was having difficulty with her basic high school curriculum. I was desperate to do whatever I could to motivate her for a relatively strong finish, at least strong enough to get her diploma in June.
During Christmas break, I approached her with an offer. "Listen, Sweetie, I know you don't want to talk about this but I'm not so sure that you're going to have the grades to graduate this spring. And I'm sure you don't want to be celebrating your 20th birthday while you're still in high school. So, what's it gonna take to get you motivated?"
"Gee, do we have to talk about this now?" she asked. Obviously, she wanted to postpone this conversation and reschedule it for the 12th of Never.
"No, I guess we could wait and talk about it in August while we're shopping for school supplies for one more year at Chatham High. Or . . ."
"Do you have to be so sarcastic?" she complained.
"Yes I do. Do you have to be so damned lazy about school?" As soon as I said this, I realized that this conversation needed to change directions or it was going to be totally unproductive. "Okay, I'm gonna try something different here. I don't think that you would resent a bribe, if it's a good enough bribe, so how about this? If you graduate this spring, I'll take you and your mom on a one week Caribbean cruise. Do you think that could get you motivated?"
She looked directly at me and maintained eye contact for what seemed like hours. "Do you really mean that?"
"No, I just said it to keep up my reputation as a lying pig! Of course I mean it. I've never lied to you, not once, not ever. Graduate and we'll go on that cruise, but that means graduate this year, not next year. Can you do that?"
"Just you wait and see," she replied with a gleam in her eye.
* * *
Three months later, my marriage with Gretchen had fallen apart. We were like two strangers living in the same house. I spent my nights on the sofa. Sex was something that I now did only with my hand; sex with my wife had not occurred in months. Gretchen was like a 14 year-old kid who wanted freedoms without responsibilities. She didn't contribute any money to the household expenses, she rarely cooked, and she was an awful housekeeper. If she had fucked like a horny 18 year-old girl, I probably would have tolerated the rest of her crap for a very long time. But, when we did have sex, it was more of that formula sex with a somewhat smelly pussy and a lousy attitude. I knew it was only a matter of time before we would file for a divorce.
In the meanwhile, Miss Sarah had started to withdraw from me. I suppose that she sensed the impending breakup of the marriage and she had the good sense to know that she really had no choice about with whom she would cast her lot.
It was never a question in my mind. I knew that a divorce meant that I would also lose my precious, sweet Miss Sarah, the wonderful young girl who also happened to be the object of my unrelenting passion and lust. To avoid the trauma of a sudden loss of my time and affections, she had initiated a gradual withdrawal from my life; it was not hostile, but it was very deliberate, and it hurt. It hurt more than the failure of my marriage.
Gretchen filed for the divorce and it proceeded rather quickly. It had been a brief marriage and we had not accumulated much to divide. Gretchen was an unreasonable brat and initially thought she should get alimony just because it would make her life easier. Fortunately, her attorney explained that "wouldn't-it-be-nice" was not a legal justification for alimony and it was very rare for alimony to be awarded after a marriage of less than two years. After that non-issue was resolved, the divorce happened very quickly.
We had separated in March and the divorce was final by the middle of April. I had not heard from Miss Sarah since the separation and was hoping that we might re-open our communication after the divorce was final. Of course, it all depended on Gretchen not acting like a venomous and vindictive snake, so I really had no confidence that it would ever occur, until . . ..
It was May 12, a Thursday, about 3:30 in the afternoon. I was in the office when my secretary put a call through to me. I yelled to remind her that I did not want to be disturbed, but she told me in her mother-knows-best voice that I needed to take this call.
"Hello, this is Ron Wilson. Can I help you?" I always answered the telephone at the office with the same introduction.
"Ron, this is Sarah. Do you have time for us to talk now?" she asked.
"Of course, sweetie. Just give me a minute to get up and close my office door. You know my secretary likes to listen in whenever I have a personal call." I made a silly face at my secretary as I closed the door.
"I'm so glad you called, sweetie. I've thought about you every day since your Mom and I separated." I dare not explain to her exactly what I had been thinking or what I had been doing to myself when I was thinking about her.
"I've thought about you a lot, too," Sarah said. I don't know if it was true but, if not, it was sweet of her to lie about it.
"Well, I'm not sure why you're calling but I'm glad you did. I'd love to see you sometime soon." I certainly wanted to see my little angel.
"Well, I'm free for dinner tonight," she offered in her sweet voice that was usually reserved for times when she was trolling for favors.
"Yeah, that sounds great. I probably shouldn't come over and pick you up so why don't you meet me at Luigi's around 7:00?" She loved Luigi's and I knew it.
"Can we get the pizza special?" she asked, sounding like a kid.
"You bet, sweetie. See you there at 7:00."
I worked until 6:30 and then headed straight for Luigi's. I got there about ten minutes early and Miss Sarah was already there, waiting in the lobby.
When she looked up and saw me walking in, she got such a big smile on her face. Seeing that smile really warmed my soul. It was definitely the best medicine I had received in a long time.
Miss Sarah jumped up and ran to me, placing her arms around me and giving me a nice, big hug before she planted a kiss on my cheek.
"It's been too long," she said, now sounding much more like an adult.
"Yeah, but you're just as beautiful as I remember you," I said.
We quickly got seated and ordered our pizza. Our drinks arrived and I soon learned what had prompted this meeting.
"Ron, I have some great news, some bad news, and some good news," she said. "The great news is that I had my last final two days ago and I got the results today, right before I called you. I passed all my courses and I'm graduating next week." She was all smiles and her face could have lit up the dark side of the moon.
"Oh, baby, that's great. I knew you could do it," I said. I leaned over to her and gave her a hug. As we were still embraced, I whispered in her ear, "I'm so proud of you."
"Now, what's the bad news?" I asked.
"Well, you know that Mom's been kind of mental the past few months . . .," she began.
"Actually, much longer than that," I interjected.
". . . and it wouldn't be such a great idea for you to actually attend the graduation. I'm sorry, you know, but she's my Mom."
'Poor Sarah,' I thought to myself, 'thinking that she needs to explain this.'
"Oh, no, honey," I said, "I understand this absolutely and, yes, she is your mother and she just absolutely has to be there, so I guess I'll miss it. I'll hate it but it's the only right thing to do. I wish there was something else we could do to celebrate your graduation."
"Well, actually, there is. Do you remember back in December, you promised to take Mom and me on a cruise if I graduated?"
"Yeah, well, I don't think your Mom and I are going anywhere." Holy cow, what a fiasco that would be!
"No, silly! Of course you and Mom aren't going anywhere. But you can still take me on a cruise. You do still love me, don't you?" She batted her eyelashes and gave me the puppy dog eyes. She was a skillful little tease but we both knew that she was just messing with me; still, it was a very effective female maneuver.
