And Here’s to You, Mr. Robinson

I felt Cooper's balls jump as I pulled my hand out from in between his thighs. I straightened up to a fully standing position again. I took a step backwards, creating more space between us.

"It looks good on this side. Why don't you spin around so I can make sure I didn't miss any spots on the front?"

Cooper remained silent. I watched from behind as he reached in the Speedo to readjust himself; I couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but I had an idea.

He slowly turned around with one of his hands half-covering his crotch. As I had anticipated, a little nipple tweaking and ball grazing was just too difficult for an eighteen-year-old to ignore, even if he was straight and the person doing the rubbing was a man.

Cooper's dick had sprung to half-mast position. The blue fabric was straining to contain it. I looked directly at Cooper's crotch while he stared into my eyes. His face was beet red.

"Don't worry," I said. "That happened to me all the time too when I was your age."

Before Cooper could respond, I left the bathroom. He had treated me like I was some desperate old queen, so I had treated him like an inexperienced young buck. It felt like a fair trade to me, and I was hoping that it would teach Cooper a lesson: don't write checks your ass can't cash.

The next week passed by fairly quickly; it felt like a bit of a blur. I focused on work, keeping my social engagements, and spending time with Nate. One thing had changed, though; I couldn't stop thinking about Cooper Crestwood.

When I'd zone out during a meeting, I could feel him squeezing my bicep. When I started to drift off to sleep, I'd see an image of him in that tight, overstuffed blue Speedo. When I rubbed lotion onto my abs after I finished showering each night, I could still feel his flesh beneath my fingertips.

It didn't make any sense. I had always pitied my friends when they'd lusted after college-aged waitstaff or hotel busboys. I had always thought I was better than them.

No, I'm still better than them, I insisted to myself. I realize I'm being tempted. I'm not surrendering to it. I'm not embracing it as a lifestyle. I'm not looking for excuses to see him or even talk about him.

Not that I wanted to undercut my own "heroic" resolve, but I was also certain that Cooper would be giving me plenty of space after having lost our little game of chicken.

I was home alone on Saturday morning. Nate was spending time with my ex, so I had the place to myself. I decided to go for a run around the neighborhood. I tossed on a pair of compression shorts, a sleeveless T-shirt, and some sneakers. I tried to pace myself as I made my way down the elm-lined streets that obscured the McMansions behind them.

By the time I was about to return home, I'd worked up a good sweat. I'd run about six miles, although I hadn't been trying to push myself too hard. I stopped in place when I saw a figure in the driveway. Someone was casually practicing lay ups. With the sun shining directly in my eyes, I couldn't make out more than a silhouette, but I already knew who it was.

"Mr. R!" Cooper purred as I moved closer to him. "You just don't let up. Gotta stay on top of those gains."

"Nate isn't here this weekend, Cooper. Maybe next time you should give him a call to confirm before you come all the way over."

"You're sweating up a storm, Mr. R. You're drenched."

I was already noticing his habit of ignoring anything that didn't fit into his agenda or plans. I scanned my body. My white T-shirt was plastered to my chest; I could see my sun-kissed skin through the transparent fabric. My black compression shorts were cradling my package and framing my bubble butt. I was pretty proud of how good my ass looked for a thirty-eight-year-old divorcée.

Cooper took a step towards me. I could smell his unique scent, even though he didn't appear to be sweating. His dimples deepened as he placed his thumb over my eyebrow and wiped away some perspiration. He tilted his head down to look directly in my eyes; I could feel his warm breath against my lips. If I'd been twenty years younger and he'd been gay, I'd have sworn it was the prelude to a kiss.

He held the pose for few seconds past what would have been acceptable before taking a step back. He placed the basketball on the ground, then began to pulling his tank top off over his head - taking his sweet time doing it. His abs tightened and his pecs bulged.

Cooper's eyes shone with their telltale mischievous sparkle. He reached towards me and used his folded shirt to slowly wipe any remaining perspiration from my cheeks and forehead. He did it without saying a word.

"Th...thanks," I muttered as he finally stopped his tender caressing motions.

He just smiled. I felt my face flush, but I reassured myself that he wouldn't be able to tell since it was still rosy from my run. I worked to control my breathing as I felt warmth surge into my abdomen. I knew I had to resist; I wasn't about to lose another game of sexual tug-o-war.

"Well, feel free to shoot hoops for as long as you want. Just put the basketball back in the garage when you go."

I began to speed walk towards the front door. I dared not look back lest he know that I desperately wanted to see his defined six-pack one more time.

"Mr. R?" he called.

"Yes."

"Can I come inside to get a bottle of water? It's fucking hot out here and I forgot my Nalgene at home."

I paused for a moment. I knew on some level that I should offer to bring the water out to him; I wasn't sure how, but I just knew. Alas, I disregarded the instinct.

"Sure."

I remained facing the door, refusing to watch his taut muscles glistening in the sun as he approached me. I could hear his heavy footfalls as he got closer. I felt his body heat as he sidled up next to me. He leaned in, positioning his lips next to my ears.

"You should wear those shorts everywhere. You don't just have cake; you have a whole fucking bakery."

"Cooper..."

I didn't finish the sentence. My instincts said that I should chastise him for talking his friend's dad like that, even if it was just banter. I wondered if I should tell him that someone else might get the wrong message from all his flirting -- that it was not kind of him to string guys along when he wasn't gay.

We entered the house; Cooper draped his shirt across the back of his neck. We both walked into the kitchen. I couldn't help but steal glances at his chiseled torso, as well as the black nylon basketball shorts that hugged his ample backside.

"Water is in the fridge," I said.

He opened the door; I could hear him rummaging through the shelves. It shouldn't have taken more than a minute, but "somehow," it did.

"Nice, I love lemonade. Can I have a glass before I go back outside?"

I moved without thinking. I pressed in next to him in front of the open fridge; his nipples were firm from the cold air blasting on them. There were little gooseflesh bumps on his pecs. I brushed past his flank to retrieve the pitcher of lemonade. The hair on my forearm rubbed against his soft skin.

"Have a seat at the dinette," I told him.

Cooper quickly settled into one of the chairs by the small table. I pulled down a glass from the top shelf of the cupboard. I began to pour the lemonade he had requested, but the liquid surged past the pitcher's mouth and splashed down onto the floor.

"Oh shit!" I bellowed.

"Can I..."

"No. No. I got it, Cooper."

I hastily placed the glass and pitcher onto the bar countertop. I grabbed a dish towel and spun around to take stock of the mess, then dropped to my knees and started wiping the floor to sop up the lemonade.

As I crawled, I could feel that I was being watched. Cooper's eyes were burning holes into the back of my head. Something about being on my hands and knees with my ass sticking up in the air in front of him flipped a switch; I felt so fucking horny. It wasn't a position I'd found myself in since I'd separated from my ex.

I arched my back, pushing my peachy ass up into the air. I could feel it jiggling ever-so-slightly as I rocked back and forth while scrubbing the floor. I had to have known exactly what I was doing, but I couldn't resist. I looked over my shoulder to find that Cooper was practically hypnotized by my backside. We quickly locked eyes; a smile spread across his face.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Robinson?"

I turned red from embarrassment. I swiftly looked back at the ground.

"You're too young to know that reference."

"I bet I know a lot of things that you'd never expect for someone my age."

My head felt dizzy; I froze where I was on the floor. Am I trying to seduce him? Am I trying to seduce Cooper Crestwood? No. How could I be seducing him? He was the one who'd started flirting with me!

Even though I felt more assured that I wasn't some lech going after a barely legal stud, I quickly hopped back to my feet. I decided that I'd finish cleaning up the sticky residue from the spill once he left. I poured him a glass and handed it over; he made sure to stroke my fingers with his large mitt as he took the chilly vessel from my hand.

I walked back over towards the fridge; I felt like it was better to have a little distance between us. Cooper took a large sip of his lemonade. His pronounced Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. An image of my tongue delicately tracing the path to it from his collar bone entered my mind; I frantically pushed it away.

"That's some damn good lemonade."

I was trying to maintain his gaze, even though I wanted to let my eyes feast on his well-muscled torso. He could tell that I was struggling. I watched helplessly as he slouched into the chair, pushing his ass forward towards the edge of the seat.

"So how have things been going for you now that you're divorced, Mr. R?"

It was undoubtedly a personal question, but it felt like safer ground than the innuendo and teasing that he'd been tossing at me. I took the bait.

"Well, it's not easy, but I'd like to think I'm doing well enough. I'm glad that Nate is still able to have a good relationship with my ex, even if we aren't on the best of terms."

"That must be really tough. How long were you married?"

"Ten years."

"Are you getting back out there yet? They say that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."

Cooper winked; I couldn't help but chuckle at his hackneyed advice. He began to spread his bulky thighs further apart, moving into an extreme man-spread position. The shiny nylon fabric slid further up his thighs as he shifted. I didn't look where my eyes desperately wanted to stare; instead, I darted from knees to thighs to abs, but I refused to look at his package.

"What kind of guys do you like? Let me guess..."

"Ones that are old enough to buy me a drink at a bar."

"Ouch!"

Cooper chuckled; he seemed to be enjoying his little game. I wasn't sure how I felt in that moment. I think it may have been a burgeoning lust. I hadn't felt anything similar in so many years that it was hard to tell. The fact that I was feeling it for a young himbo was making me spin out.

"Do you like guys with good abs?"

Cooper rubbed his right hand across his six-pack; his index finger traced the deep grooves between each muscle. His left hand moved down to his thigh. He casually pulled at the fabric so that more of his skin was showing.

"Abs are nice."

I had barely been able to eke out my terse reply. Cooper's smiled widened; his dimples deepened. My heart rate began to increase.

"So... are you hooking up with new guys yet?"

Cooper slid further towards the edge of the chair. Suddenly, I could see it. Several inches of his gargantuan cock were hanging out from the right leg hole of his nylon shorts. I inhaled deeply; butterflies took flight in my stomach. How can he not know? I asked myself.

I stared at the large, bulbous head. It appeared he was completely soft, and its size was still incredibly impressive. It looked like the type of cock I'd always loved to gently work into my hole while feeling an unmistakable mixture of pleasure and pain. My ex's dick had never caused that same feeling.

Cooper tugged on his shorts, which revealed another inch. I could start to see a large blue vein at the midpoint of his girthy shaft. In that moment, it clicked. He knows exactly what he's doing! This isn't some accidental dick slip!

I redirected my gaze back to Cooper's eyes. I felt so turned on and embarrassed at the same time. He tried to act like he didn't know what he was doing, but his smirk undermined the façade. He continued pulling. About half of his cock was swinging freely, and he was making no attempt to cover himself.

"If you're getting some, hopefully they're young and hung."

"I've... I've got to go."

I began to walk out of the room. Cooper looked both victorious and a little sad. I wondered if he had been hoping to tease me a little longer. I was confident that toying with me must have been feeding his ego.

"Feel free to play basketball for as long as you want," I called over my shoulder. "You know the way out."

I entered my office and locked the door behind me. I realized that my heart was beating out of my chest and I felt dizzy. I sat down on the chair across from my desk. There was a sexual energy that I hadn't felt in years radiating through my core. I felt like the eighteen-year-old version of myself, flooded with raging hormones.

As became more aware of my body, I noticed that my dick was throbbing. I looked down to see its firm seven inches outlined in my compression shorts. I was rock hard. Had I been sporting wood when I was in the kitchen? Had he been able to tell? A tinge of shame arose within me knowing that I had been seduced by a straight boy who was half my age.

I didn't know what to think. I was certain that my daydreams and fantasies about Cooper Crestwood wouldn't fade away; instead, they would gain something extra - something extra large. I wasn't prepared to accept that. I didn't want to be the guy who was pushing forty and thinking about young dick while writing work emails.

As my mind raced and churned, I began to smell something; it was my own funky odor -- mostly due to my run, but not entirely. Cooper was responsible for some of it. I decided I needed to cool down. A shower! No, a dip in the pool! I can do a few laps to refocus myself.

I went to my bedroom and tossed on my favorite black Speedo. I could hear the basketball bouncing on the front driveway through the window as I changed. I didn't look out.

I bee-lined through the house to the back patio. I tossed the towel I was carrying over one of the chairs. I stared up at the sun for a moment; its heat scorched my skin. I wanted it to burn away my prurient desire.

I dove into the pool. I let myself feel the water contouring around my body as I cut through the water. I focused on my form as I switched between strokes. It gave me something to evaluate and control. I liked being in control of myself and my environment.

After a solid twenty minutes, my mind had become clearer. My body was less overloaded with sexual energy. My cock had reverted back to its flaccid state. I pulled myself up the ladder onto the hot pavement, then walked over and flopped down on the lounge chair where I'd set down my towel.

I had barely settled into my seat when I heard a noise behind me. I hadn't even wiped the water from my body. I froze; I waited to see what he was up to.

Cooper stepped in front of me. His torso was still exposed, revealing the abs that I wanted to navigate with my curious fingers, but he had one of the pool towels wrapped around his waist. I'm going to fucking lose my mind if he's in that Speedo again! I don't think I can handle that right now!

"I heard you in the pool. I thought I'd come get some sun and keep you company. Do you mind if I join you?"

Yes! Yes, I mind! You need to go home, Cooper. I can't keep playing this game. It's too much for me, and it's only going to end with me feeling intense guilt as I jerk off thinking about your fat cock as I try to fall asleep.

"I don't mind," I mumbled.

Cooper sat down on the lounge chair right next to mine; there was only about a foot of space separating the two. He kept the towel wrapped around his waist. I wondered for a second if he was having second thoughts. I wondered if he realized he was going too far, or if he felt uncomfortable being back in a Speedo - perhaps the very same one he'd been wearing when I'd gotten him all hot bothered in the bathroom.

We both looked at one another's eyes. My assessment quickly changed; his telltale mischievous eye glimmer was more noticeable than ever.

"I'm trying to work on my tan before it's officially summer," he said. "I want to look good for the girls... and the guys."

I waited with bated breath as he began to loosen the knot at his waist. He watched me watching him. He unfastened the fabric and let the towel fall away from his body.

Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! He's completely naked! His glorious seven-inch dick draped over his thigh so that the head was pointing in my direction. It looked even more amazing than I'd imagined after seeing it in the Speedo and partially obscured by his gym shorts. It was definitely a two-hander in terms of girth. Several defined blue veins ran the length of the shaft.

I didn't say anything. I was barely remembering to not stop breathing, so speaking was out of the question. I wanted it so bad; I wanted him so bad. All of the nerve endings in my body were sparking with electricity.

Cooper smiled; he could tell that he had bested me. He had turned me from a respectable middle-aged dad to a cock-hungry lecher, and he'd done it in less than twenty minutes across three encounters. He was going to take a victory lap.

"The sun is really killing me eyes, Mr. R. I'm just going to lean back with them closed for a while."

Cooper adjusted the seat so that it was completely flat. It made it so I could more easily survey his body. I took note of how the sunlight cascaded across his washboard abs, how his biceps pressed into the slats of the chair, and how the deep blue veins in his cock almost shimmered.

Cooper soon placed his left hand on his abs; I appreciated that he had chosen to not obstruct my view of his manhood. He swiftly dug his fingertips into his trimmed brown pubic hair to scratch an undoubtedly feigned itch. Instead of pulling his mitt away, he left it there. The side of his hand was resting against the thick root of his dick.

He began to slowly move his hand so that its side was rubbing into the base of his shaft with the mildest pressure. I was mesmerized; I couldn't look away. The house could have been on fire and I wouldn't have been able to leave my chair.

I watched as his cock began to change. It was starting to plump up -- not enough to pull away from his body, but enough to show that he was getting excited. I could feel my own dick mirroring his as blood flooded into it.

Cooper moved his hand, sliding it over his shaft. He grasped his meaty member and repositioned it against his bulky thigh. He was clearly using the pretext of needing to adjust as a way to touch himself while I watched.

The sunlight reflected off of his muscles. I tried to take in all of the erotic contours as he lay in repose. I was practically drooling as I ogled the V-cut that transitioned his abs into his ample thighs. My cock couldn't ignore what I was seeing; it reached peak hardness. It jutted into the air, creating an obvious tent in my Speedo.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I knew that I should find an excuse to go back inside of the house. I could only imagine what would happen if it got out that I'd been naked sunbathing with my son's friend. It would be the scandal of the century in the eyes of the town's Stepford wives.