A First For Everyone Ch. 02

(Second part to A First For Everyone)

*

The light shone blazingly bright and hot through the front window of the house, pouring sunshine over my face. I opened my eyes and realized I had a massive headache and hangover. I looked around the room and saw that I wasn't at home, and in an instant I pieced together what had occurred last night. Could it have really happened? I wondered. Could I have lost my virginity to my friend's mother? It felt like a dream, a blur almost. But I could remember the main parts, and none of it seemed real.

I convinced myself I must have dreamt it. It wouldn't have been the first time I've dreamed vividly about sex. I stirred on the couch and felt my dick rub against my pants, it felt raw. It was no dream...it happened. I wasn't a virgin anymore. And I'd fucked my friend's mother, a woman I'd known since I was a child--of course now I was eighteen. I'd just turned eighteen last month.

I sat up and looked out the window. Yes, Lorry's car was parked outside. My stomach churned, I'm not sure if it was in excitement or fear, but it churned and I felt sick. I'd clearly taken advantage of her, what if she was upset? I tried thinking back to what occurred. I'd walked her over to the couch and began to fondle her legs. She'd given me a blowjob, then I'd talked her into sex, which she'd given me after a few halfhearted refusals--I'd fucked her up the ass too. The memory of fucking her up the ass flashed in my mind and I was sure she hadn't wanted it, but I'd sodomized her anyway, taking advantage of her vulnerable position of being bent over and sloppy drunk before me.

I really was another person last night.

I was disappointed that I couldn't remember exactly how it'd felt. The story I'd told to you in the first chapter was my reconstruction of events. I'll never be able to account for every detail of my special first day with Lorry. It happened very fast and was over too quick. It really was like a dream, and nothing more.

I'd lost my virginity in one drunken hour. I'd received my first blowjob, my first pussy—and asshole--all in one night. My first everything happened and I couldn't remember it well enough to savor it. Why did it have to be so sloppy my first time around? But it must have been good; my dick felt like it'd been through a lot.

How could I have been so aggressive with Lorry? That was what shocked me. She'd always been so nice to me. I can't remember how many times she'd given me rides or lied to my parents about something bad I'd done with her son Joe. She'd bought so much food for me over the years when I did things with Joe, it wasn't funny. I owed her the greatest respect, and I'd betrayed her. I'd pounced the moment she'd shown her vulnerable side, and did it without a second thought.

What I'd done, what had happened last night; it wasn't like me; I was so shy normally. It was the damned tequila that gave me the courage and lust to walk her to the couch and begin rubbing her nylon encased legs. I greedily used her body like a sex toy without her full consent. But there'd been parts she enjoyed, and that made me feel better.

I remembered how close we'd come to getting caught, Bob had walked in minutes after I'd taken his girlfriend on their couch. Thinking about it a bit more, fucking that grumpy man's girlfriend excited me. Bob was a big guy. Much older than me, he would have messed me up if he'd caught me, maybe shot me. He had quite a large collection of guns.

If only he knew his girlfriend was such a slut when she was drunk. I knew Bob never liked me. He was a real conservative guy; a proud member of the local tea party. He might have been a little racist. I don't think he cared for Mexican's much, and I'm Mexican-American. Yes, he'd be pissed if he found out I'd ravished his girlfriend's asshole without permission.

Bob was an uncomfortable man to be around. When he spoke to me, his questions were always sarcastic and direct, and I felt he was always trying to catch me up in a lie. He liked to roll his eyes a lot, and looked at everything with a pessimistic point of view. He really thought he was above everyone else, especially if you didn't share his conservative politics or you weren't older than him. He was also very jealous of Lorry, and demanding of her. When he called out for her she came running.

Lorry wouldn't tell Bob, or her son, Joe, one of my best friends. I did feel sort of bad, like I'd betrayed Joe in some way, but I'd had sex, and that was a bigger deal. My dick began to harden as I laid there on the couch going over what memories I had from the previous evening. Lorry had been pretty easy, being as drunk as she was. She let me do what I wanted with her. Not really giving me resistance at all, except for when I shoved my cock in her butt.

How could she have been so easy? I never thought her the type to cheat on Bob. They'd been together for as long as I could remember and seemed to really love each other. He had children from a prior marriage that lived with their mother, and had Joe, who lived with them.

She was slightly plump, but it showed just over her pussy in a small pouch, nothing severe, most of her fat went to her backside. Her butt was fleshy and large. I'm sure it had changed over the years and loosened up, so that it jiggled at the slightest provocation. Her voice was grizzled from years of smoking. Her face wasn't horrendous to look at. When she smiled she brightened up, and it was her green eyes that gave her any sparkle. She was naturally a brunette, but over the years had begun to die her hair a reddish auburn. A slight scattering of freckles dotted her nose and cheekbones.

She wasn't the prettiest girl in the room, but she acted like it.

Physically, what made her attractive, and an object of desire, were the short miniskirts and thin dresses she seemed to always wear. She was fascinated, I think, by nylons, because she always wore them. I'd known her for years, since I was thirteen, (though everything in this story happened when I was eighteen) and she wore nylons on all but the hottest days .

I'd never had a crush on Lorry; well not a big one; she was my friend's mom for God's sake, and a friend's parent was impossible--off the list, off the market, off anything. But I will admit eyeing her pantyhose clad legs from time to time over the years—okay, every chance I could. I used to want so badly to look up her skirt or dress everytime I went to Joe's house. Her skirts rode high on her, and always gave the promise of a shot of panties, or thick milky upper thigh.

It seemed she owned every color of nylon leggings available. Once and a while I'd strike gold as I entered the living room and she'd be sitting just right and my eyes could shoot up into the darkened area under her skirt. It was nothing spectacular, but I'd run off to the bathroom and jack off with her pantyhose legs in mind. I wanted only to touch her legs, as if they were some forbidden fruit, off limits to me because of her status as a friend's parent, and more so a grown adult twice my age with a live in boyfriend.

As we got older, one of our friends, Pedro, used to say he would fuck the shit out of her. We'd gotten a good laugh from it, and my friend Joe had wanted to fight him over it. Yes, she was overweight, and her body had seen better years, but her legs remained absurdly toned and well-shaped. And her eyes could always capture you in their intensity and amiability. She had a way of making you feel comfortable around her.

But her legs were extraordinary things to admire, like a beautiful painting or sunset. I think that's why she showed them off daily in her skirts. Of course pantyhose can hide a lot, but they did her magnificent justice, a classy older lady look. She knew she looked good in her skirts, and because of her pantyhose and short skirts, she exuded a powerful form of sexiness in the simplest thing she did, like the crossing of her legs in a slow, deliberate manner, or the twirl of her hair around a finger, or the way she held eye contact with you when speaking. She loved to wear name brand fashion, and Bob never hesitated to shower her with lavish jewelry and clothing.

Her nose was a bit too round, her lips slightly thin with the beginnings of smoke wrinkles. She wore too much mascara, and her cheeks were always rosy. She always had the smell of cigarettes and perfume. But like I said, there was something about her.

I heard the door open in the hallway of the single story house and my heart began to race.

Who could it be? Bob with one of his guns ready to shoot me for forcefully fucking his girlfriend in the ass, or Joe, angry with me for stuffing my cock in his mother's sweet mouth? Or even worse, would it be Lorry? What would I say to her? What would she say to me?

I pretended to sleep and lay my head down, while ever so slightly peeking out to the hall.

It was Lorry. She'd just showered, I could tell by her wet hair, and she was wearing glasses, round ones. She was dressed in sweats and a loose but short t-shirt.

As she stood there, I saw how feminine she looked. How she stared at me expressionless, contemplating me in deep silenced thought. Then she tucked her lips into a thin line and continued on her way.

She looked attractive standing right there. I don't know if it was because I knew I'd laid over her last night and put my dick in her wet, wet, older pussy, or because she looked so unsure about something, worried almost.

I heard her open the cupboards in the kitchen where she'd gone, and start up the coffee machine. I didn't know what to do. But I felt I needed to see her before my friend Joe, or Bob came around. I needed to get it over with. Apologize if I needed to, and leave, hoping to never make eye contact with her again for the rest of my life. I really did feel awful about last night, about how rough I'd been.

So with my heart at about my knees, I stood up. My head hurt, and I was thirsty. I walked over to the kitchen doorway and leaned against the jamb. I could smell the scent of soap or shampoo lingering in the air from her shower.

She was sitting at the counter, facing away from me. Just being so close to her tightened my chest up. I couldn't believe what had occurred between us a few hours before. I saw the back of her shirt was wet from her hair. Her panties caught my eye as it stuck up on either side of her sweatpants waistband where her shirt rode high. It was a silky blue color and it shone foil like under the kitchen light. It was lacy around the top and I traced its visible line down her sweatpants. The lines of her panties were quite visible under the tight sweat material, and I noticed how small her panties were. It wasn't a thong, not by the outline, but one side was riding up her ass more than the other. I had the urge to just reach out and stroke the material with the tips of my fingers.

The sight of her panties gave me a secret pleasure. Knowing that I'd fucked this woman and that I'd seen more of her than just her accidently exposed panties excited me. I'd had my hands up this woman's skirt, my dick had been lodged inside of her body, and I'd spurted out my semen up her ass, injecting it deep inside her bowels while she begged me to stop.

"Good morning." I said, my voice sounding rough from the hangover. It shattered the silence of the room, and my words visibly struck her body.

She turned and looked at me. Her eyes cutting me open in one quick glance. She wasn't the unsure woman I'd just seen in the hallway anymore. She measured me and dismissed me all in one turn of the eyes.

"Want some coffee? I'm hung over." She said, her tone so matter of fact, as if nothing had ever occurred between us.

I poured myself a cup.

"I'm hung over too. I had too much tequila last night." I said.

"I know. I talked to Joe this morning and saw the empty bottles."

"He's up?"

"Been up. He left an hour or two ago, they called him into work. I told him to leave you on the couch till you woke up yourself."

I felt better knowing I wouldn't have to see Joe.

"Is Bob here?"

"Yes. He's passed out though. I had to practically carry him home last night. He's not the lightest man in the world. He won't be up for a few hours." Her eyes looked me over and I knew she wanted to say more, but held back. There was so much hidden in those soft green eyes.

There was a moment of strained silence and I used this awkward time to sip on the coffee. I could feel the air thicken up. My stomach turned in anticipation. I looked to the living room, to the couch where I'd sodomized Lorry.

"I was pretty wasted last night." She said in a tone of finality, as if these words explained how she'd been able to sleep with her son's friend and cheat on her boyfriend. She looked me in the eyes to see if I could understand her, then her face flushed bright red and she looked away as fast as possible, embarrassed.

Her eyes weren't looking at me, but on a spot on the counter before her. She put a hand up over her cheek to try and hide her redness. Her breasts were pushing tight against her shirt, she wasn't wearing a bra and they sagged down, her nipples showing themselves to me.

"Do you remember what happened last night?" She asked. "It was kind of a blur for me."

The words didn't seem real, the moment didn't. I had nothing rehearsed, and she'd caught me off guard. Should I lie? No, I couldn't. She needed to know that I remembered. I wanted her to always know that I knew she'd let her lips wrap themselves over my cock. I wanted her to know that I'd taken her while she was drunk, and she'd given herself up, slut like, to a man twenty years younger than her. But how could I say it nicely?

"Yeah, I'm sorry if I offended you in any way. I was drunk." I couldn't look at her. I was sorry, not for fucking her sloppy wet pussy, but for fucking her in the ass when she didn't want it.

"I really don't remember much, but bits and pieces. I'm normally...not like that. I have a question for you. What do you remember?" Her eyes were pleading with me to say "nothing", but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I had to let her know she'd been a bad woman last night. I wanted to see her reaction.

"We kind of...had sex."

She nodded. She looked beautiful sitting there.

"Look, I'm so, so, sorry. I don't know what got into me. It never should have happened. You're not gonna go run and tell your mom are you? Or your friends—"

"No. Nobody."

"You won't brag about it? Promise you won't."

"I won't."

She smiled and held the cup to her lips. She looked as if the world had just ended for her, and I felt a little hurt by her reaction.

"God, if Bob were to find out...I don't cheat on him, you know. I love him." She said. "I want you to be honest with me about something. I'm a little embarrassed about saying this, or asking this--" She covered her eyes.

"What?"

"Did you fuck me in the ass?" Her words were a whisper and her voice cracked. She looked as if she were going to cry.

"For a little bit."

Silently, like the falling of snow, tears began to fall down her face. She put her hands over her nose and mouth and cried. I didn't know what to say, or how to react. I wanted to hug her and run away at the same time. A slow minute passed while she cried about being fucked in her ass by me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think you would cry about it. I apologize, Lorry." I finally said.

"No, it was me that let it happen. I just...feel so dirty about it. My ass is really sore, and when I woke up, I felt it instantly, I knew something wasn't right--and then, like a flash, I began to remember sitting next to you on the couch last night. I remember your hands on my legs. I remember sitting in the back yard smoking a cigarette, and that's it. I don't even remember driving home. It's just...to be told by your son's friend that he fucked you in the ass, that you cheated on your boyfriend who you love...it's just too much for me." Her eyes were red and beginning to swell, and she dabbed at them with her shirt.

"Well, I'm sorry again. I'll never mention it."

"Okay, good. I think that's best. Maybe you shouldn't come over anymore either. Nothing against you, but I can't see you around here, not with Bob...not in front of Bob. I could never be in the same room as you two—ever. You understand, right? We should never see each other again. You're a good kid with a big future and I wish you the best in life."

She stopped crying and sipped her coffee, looking me fiercely in the face. Was it anger I saw in those green gems? Yes, she hated me. I stood up to leave. I was disappointed I'd never get to see her again, but I'd always have the broken memories from the best drunken night of my life.

"Wait. Finish your coffee first. I don't want to be too rude about kicking you out."

"Are you sure, Lorry? I can go now. I don't want to upset you anymore."

"Sit." I did. We sat in silence again. It was a spring Saturday morning and I could hear some crazy neighbor starting his lawnmower in the distance at seven in the morning.

"I want you to know, what happened last night; what I let you do to me. Guys have wanted to stick it in my butt since I was in high school, but I never let them, never anyone. Not even Bob gets to put it there. I hate alcohol." She wouldn't look at me. Why did she want me there still? So she could explain herself to me? I was torturing her just sitting beside her. I wanted to admit to her that I'd taken it without her consent, maybe she would feel better, but I didn't say a word.

Something about this aroused me.

She forced a laugh, a fake one that caught me off guard, and then sighed. "Did you enjoy it at least? My ass is really sore. I knew right away I'd been fucked there because it was so wet down there when I woke up. Your sperm was in there all night." Her bluntness shocked me. She seemed so comfortable talking about it now. I saw in her face that her attitude had shifted somehow. She really wanted to talk it over. Maybe this was her way of getting over it.

"I lost my virginity to you."

She coughed on the coffee she was drinking and set her cup down.

"You're a virgin?"

"I was one."

"So last night was your first time? Geez, as much as I want you to forget this night...you never will."

"I won't forget what happened, but to tell you the truth, I don't remember it very well. But it was nice, it was even my first time having oral sex."

She squinted at me, not understanding. "What? I umm, sucked your dick too?"

"Yeah."

"Who started it?"

"It was kind of us both. You were wearing a skirt, and, well, I just couldn't help myself. For years I've wanted to just feel your legs up. Last night, I finally did it; I put my hand up your skirt, and you let me." I couldn't believe what I was saying, but it made her smile.

"So you like my skirts? I always knew Joe's friends were trying to look up my skirt every chance they could. Horny kids." She stood up and went into the living room, down the hall, and returned. "Well, would it hurt for me to see it?"

"What?"

"You know, don't be shy, young man. You weren't shy last night." Her eyes went down to my crotch. "I haven't seen another man's cock other than Bob's in a few years. Can I have a look? Don't worry, nothings gonna happen. I'm not drunk this time. I just wanna see it. See the dick that took my anal virginity. Bob won't come, I promise."

I hesitated. What if Bob woke up? Or Joe returned. But thinking this excited me again. It was so risky, and she was asking to see it...yes she was a whore.

So, taking in a deep breath, I pulled my basketball shorts down, then my boxers. The cold air of the house hit my cock, and I could feel her eyes on it. I was embarrassed. Her eyes were opened wide, her lips just parted so that I could see her teeth and her tongue working under the tips of them, wagging back and forth.