Chris' Visit

I met Jeff my first day at college when we were assigned as roommates and we've been like brothers since. He met Jennifer after we graduated, they got married, and started their family. Our careers grew at different companies but at similar paces, and we ended up living about two blocks from each other in a very nice neighborhood of too-big houses, on large lots, with manicured lawns, and pools. Our families are very close, with their kids almost growing up in our house and our kids at Jeff and Jennifer's. A half-dozen years ago, Jeff and Jennifer moved away when he was promoted and asked to relocate to Texas from Southern California. They didn't want to move and tried telecommuting but they couldn't make it work. They took the leap, settled in Austin, and fell in love.

Christopher, their only son, just graduated from school in New York City and was in Southern California for a couple of job interviews. He was traveling at his own expense and his parents called to ask if he could stay with us for the ten days he'd be in town; of course we said yes. Since our two daughters are off to college, we're left with a large five bedroom house for just the two of us. There was plenty of room and it'd be fun to see Chris. When they moved away, he was a smart, skinny, awkward, 16 year old boy, afraid of girls, and infatuated with my wife. I overheard him once, at my oldest daughter's first boy-girl party, telling one of the other boys that, "Mrs. Peterson makes my wiener grow." He was maybe 12 or 13 years old. I had to stifle a laugh and when I told my wife, she was so embarrassed, she didn't go back in the room for at least 30 minutes. Once she did, she kept looking over at Chris and he was staring at her. It was fun seeing her become so uncomfortable.

We were both very excited to see how he'd grown and were trying to get our kids to come home that weekend to see their old friend. It probably wouldn't happen since our oldest was a junior and was staying in the Bay Area to work as an intern with a local company. And our youngest was staying at school, helping with the last minute details for her trip to study in Florence that summer. That left us making plans for the weekend; trying to get time with him but not cramp his style. When the doorbell rang Andi smiled, jumped up, and rushed to the door.

Before I made it around the corner, I heard her "Chris! We're so happy you're here. Come in. Come in."

Chris sure had changed. He had to be 6'2", broad shoulders, with dark curly hair hanging over his collar and ears. He was well muscled but not big, with an easy smile, seeming to have grown out of his teen shyness.

"Thanks Mrs. Peterson." he said, but in my mind all I heard was "Mrs. Peterson makes my wiener grow."

I smiled as I extended my hand "Wow! Look at you."

He looked every bit the recent grad. His jeans were worn, his shoes were about to fall apart, and the gray t-shirt with "Columbia" arched over the front looked like it wasn't fit to be a dust rag.

"Thanks Mr. P." as we shook hands.

After a minute or two of perfunctory chatter about flights and traffic, I took Chris up to one of the two guest rooms. I left him to get settled and cleaned up. As I made my way back downstairs, I was thinking of my beautiful wife and Spring Break the year earlier.

Andrea, my wife of 24 years, is very attractive, but her appeal is more subtle than in-your-face lingerie model hot. She's a little taller than average at 5'6", has piercing green eyes that are wonderfully complimented by her thick auburn hair. She is pretty but not a classic beauty; leaning more toward the girl next door than the cover of Vogue. For a mother of two, in her mid-forties, her body is firm and shapely. She works out and runs to keep healthy, staying within a few pounds of 125. In fact, she'd run neck-and-neck with any thirty-something. I think she's spectacular but she sees faults in herself that I don't. She looks in the mirror and sees a single cellulite dimple where I see a shapely ass. She sees the slightest sag in her chest and I see beautiful upturned nipples sitting on near perfect C-cups. It's not like she doesn't get compliments. She tells me about her clients occasionally complimenting her, some even coming on to her when she travels for the law firm shes with. When we go out, men scan her body and smile. It's great for my ego and it should be for her too, but she didn't seem to notice. I'd pointed it out to her but she'd say I was imagining things. That all changed last March.

Our oldest wanted to take a trip to Mexico with her friends but, for a few reasons, we wouldn't pay for it. More than a little disappointed, and after exploring every option to fund her trip, her and a few of her friends stayed at our house. She showed them Southern California and they lazed around our pool for the week. The group included three guys, two of whom spent the entire week shamelessly flirting with my wife and using every chance to get close to her. It got so bad at one point, my oldest daughter angrily confronted them. Their moves were lame. If Andi was in the kitchen, they'd reach over, press themselves lightly against her, while reaching for a glass from the cabinet. I watched as one of them stood by the outdoor kitchen and waited for Andi to pass by. When she did, he turned suddenly, and startled her. He reached around her waist and pulled her close as if saving her from falling. Andi pretended to be mad but I knew different. With each passing day, she dressed a little more provocatively and gave those guys plenty of chances to run a hand over her ass or look down her shirt. And I got all of the rewards. Her fucking got hotter and louder every night and stayed that way for a month after they left. A couple of weeks after they left, she told me about the zenith of the flirting and teasing.

On the second-to-last day my daughter, and the three girls who came down from school with her, went shopping, leaving my wife home alone with the three very horny guys. I was at work that day and she decided to go bra less under a gauzy white blouse. As she was rounding the pool, one of the guys pushed her in. After making a show of protesting, she swam to the shallow end and climbed the steps. The soaked and then translucent material revealed her perfect, hard nipples as she slowly emerged from the pool. She paused long enough for the boys to cheer and cat call before she strutted into the house without looking back. She rushed upstairs and fingered herself to orgasm. A couple of times since then, she's opened up about that week and admitted it took all of her self-control to keep from screwing them. Playfully I'd tell her that if she ever gets the chance, she could jump one of them, but only if I could screw one of our daughter's friends.

She'd always say the same thing "Deal. Good luck you getting any young stuff!"

I'd fake disappointment and whine at her "But chicks dig me right?"

For the last year, the thought of my wife having sex with a younger guy became more and more exciting and based on our conversations, it was more and more a possibility. That's what I was thinking as I descended the steps.

I walked up behind her and slipped my hands around her waist, rested my chin on her shoulder, and said "Dang. Chris sure has grown,"

"Yep."

"I would have never guessed how he'd turn out that night when he told the Lorenzo kid that you made his wiener grow."

She sharply punched her hips back and half turned her head toward me "Gawd you're a perv."

"I'll bet he feels that same way now."

"That's Chris!" she told me in a mildly scolding tone. "He's like one of our kids."

"You watch. I bet he doesn't think about his Mom when he looks at you. Jerry and Bill didn't last year. Wasn't that their names? Jerry and Bill?" I questioned.

"I don't remember." she said, unconvincingly. Her mind is sharp and has an elephant's memory. I'm certain she's seen them in her mind when I had one of her nipples in my mouth or a finger plunged deep into her.

"He's probably playing with himself in the shower right now. I saw him looking at your ass when you walked away from the front door."

"He didn't!" she protested until her voice changed slightly, "Did he?"

"You make it grow.",I whispered, as I gently pulled the hair from her neck, leaned in, and kissed just below her jaw. I reached up, cupped a breast, and tweaked her right nipple. She doesn't like to rush things, preferring to let them build, but she didn't push me away. She was feeling the heat. I lingered over her shirt and bra, enjoying her soft flesh under my hand as her chest rose and fell with her deepening breath. When her nipple started to harden, I released her and playfully slapped her on the butt. "Where do you want to go for dinner?"

The seed was planted and I needed to watch it grow.

Because of the time change, and a long day traveling, Chris opted for an early dinner. Shortly after 6, we arrived at our favorite Indian restaurant, Lal Mirch. The food was good and my lovely wife flirted the whole time. It wasn't the flirting of a school girl; no twirling of her hair, no exaggerated lip licking, but the flirting of a strong, intelligent, sensual woman. Flirting intended for a grown man. Flirting that if you didn't get it, she wasn't interested in you. She'd throw him as glance, or smile and touch his hand when he said something clever (sometimes when he said something not-so-clever), and Chris got it. More than a few times that night he'd look at me, wondering if I got it. I did, but I played the straight man and showed no reaction. But there was a reaction, he just couldn't see my crotch. She wanted to know if I got it too and just as I was ordering pistachio kulfi for dessert, she reached under the table and squeezed my hardening cock. She mocked a surprised look and smiled. I'm pretty sure Chris saw her face but had no idea what drove her expression. I did and I loved it. Since last spring, I'd often fantasized about her doing just this; turning a hot young man into putty. I was fascinated and wanted to see how far this would go. I couldn't wait to get out of there.

The restaurant is pretty close to our house, just a quick jump onto the 101, and a fifteen minutes later, we were home, settled in our family room. I don't know why we called it that. There's a sectional, a couple of over stuffed chairs, an ottoman, coffee and end tables, a small wet bar, and a TV that always seemed to be on with no one watching. We were almost never in there except to pass through to the way to the kitchen, theater room, or back yard. But here we sat, my sexy MILF and the oldest child of my closest friend, and all I could think about was her being used by him. Despite being only 8 o'clock, Chris looked tired and if it wasn't for Andi, he'd already be in bed. I could tell he wanted to keep the flirtation going and, based on how Andi was acting, she did too. After a few minutes of chatting, Andi got up and told us "I ate too much and need to get out of these pants. I feel like I'm going to pop a button." That was pure BS. She'd picked at her lentils and only ate a spoonful or two of her dessert. I gave her a questioning look and she responded with a smile and a wink. I didn't know what she had planned but I wanted to find out.

Andi was dressed in a pale yellow blouse, tailored gray slacks and flat heels. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and perfectly applied, subtly complimentary, makeup on face. When her ass moved under the wool of her slacks, you could clearly see the outline of her underwear. I love her panty lines. Panty lines draw your eye to the ass and ask you, no, force you, to think. What color are they? Are they cotton? Nylon? Microfiber? Do the hi-cut legs make her legs look longer? Make her hips look fuller? It's a fun game if you play it right. However, with the advent of the thong, the sexiness of visible panty lines are lost to the ages. It's a shame. Me and Andi grew up in that transitional period when thongs and shaved pussies were coming into fashion. Andrea was busy with college and law school, so she never got caught up in the wave. She was a natural beauty and when she walked her ass moved wonderfully, with each cheek shifting up and down enough to make you want to watch. Chris sure was watching. He was seated on the sectional, facing the stairway, and he tried desperately not to stare as she walked away, but he couldn't resist. I saw him take more than a couple of nervous glances to see if I noticed.

"I could watch her walk all day long." I said with a smile.

"Uh. Yeah." he said, looking uncomfortably down at the glass of Crown Royal in his hand.

"She's a beautiful woman. She doesn't realize the affect she has on men."

He looked at me quizzically "How could she not know?"

"She knows that men are attracted to her, but she doesn't understand that her, just being her, is all that it takes." I said. He gulped down his drink and I rose to refill it. "Let me freshen that for you."

He looked at me like I was crazy "She has to know."

"Next month we'll be married for 25 years and I tell you she doesn't" I lied, pouring him a double and a glass of wine for Andrea.

I put the wine on the coffee table, in front of one of the chairs, and sat on the sectional, a cushion away from Chris. We chatted about nothing for a couple of more minutes when we both saw her bare ankles appear on the stairs. My heart was pounding, hoping, maybe even praying, she was dressed in sexy lingerie. But to my disappointment, as she made her way you could see a pair of loose fitting, baby blue cotton, shorts appear. After a few more steps, a white tank top that barely contained her tits came into view. And finally, we saw her freshly washed face beaming, and a little flushed. She was dressed for bed, just like any other night. When she pivoted around the banister toward the family room, Chris emitted a low moan. I looked at him. With a shaking hand, he raised his glass to his mouth and took a long pull, and openly gawked.

"So what's up for tomorrow?" she said as she plopped herself into the chair, making her tits bounce and her nipples grow instantly hard. She sat cross-legged, leaned forward, and grabbed her wine. When she sat up, her firm globes were stretching the thin cotton of her tank top and Chris was in a position that certainly afforded him a view up the leg of her shorts.

I was close enough to him to hear him mutter, almost silently "Oh fuck."

I smiled at Andi. The corners of her lips turned up almost imperceptibly but the glint in her eye let me know she was having fun. A lot of fun.

"Oh I don't know. I've got some work to do, but it'll only take a couple of hours. What do you want to do?" I asked, turning to Chris.

After a second or two without a response, "Chris?" Andi asked.

"Huh?" he stammered before blinking himself back to the present.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" I repeated.

"Uh, I don't know. My first interview is Friday. I just need to get my suit pressed. Just hang around I guess. It's been so cold back east this winter, can I hang by the pool?"

"Of course. We hardly use it anymore now that the girls aren't around." Andi said. "Maybe I'll lay out with you, if you can stand an old lady in a bathing suit."

His eyes snapped open and his face looked like he just won Mega Millions, "Oh yeah, that'd..that'd be great." his voice trailing off, looking at me afraid he just showed his hand.

I just smiled at him, wanting to scream, "Fuck her! Fuck her hard!" I was trying to send him signals. If I had a green flag, I would've waived it.

He swallowed the last of his drink and Andi got up to refill it. She came to my end of the sectional and leaned over to take his glass from the table. The tank top was loose enough to show more cleavage but tight enough to keep her nipples covered. Chris took full advantage and stared, his mouth slightly agape, lust filling his eyes. As she bent forward, I rested my hand on her hip. I ran my fingers up and down hunting for the outline of her bikini undies but they weren't there. It slowly dawned on me that somewhere upstairs, her panties were laying in a crumpled heap by her bra. She tilted her head toward me and smiled broadly as she turned to get him another drink.

Earlier, I'd seen him glancing down at her lap as we talked. He'd even re-positioned himself slightly trying to get a better angle. Andi noticed and did her part to help him, pivoting more toward me. Eventually, working together, they'd gotten to a spot where he could see. The whole while I'd assumed he was looking at the same red panties she'd put on that morning; the flimsy material, pulled tight across her soft, fleshy mound, while nestling her sweet, delicate lips. But that wasn't the case. He had a side view of her bush and I was elated. The thought of my wife, flashing her beaver at our family friend had my cock straining against my pants.

She came back in, sat his drink down, and returned to her chair. This time, she sat with her knees pulled up and to her side. Shows over. We chatted for the next 30 minutes and Chris was fading fast. As we sat there, I had an inspiration.

A few months earlier, Andrea's niece Jessica, came to visit with her husband and 9 month old son. Being first time parents, they'd packed like they were climbing Mount Everest. Among it all, they'd brought a set of baby monitors. For the entire stay, she had the receiver clipped to her waist like a cop on a beat with the slightest noise sending her bounding up the stairs. When they packed to leave, they forgot the monitors and I finally had a use for them. I excused myself and went upstairs to Chris' room, turned on the transmitter, and took the receiver to the master bedroom. I was curious about what would happen once he was alone. I wanted her to hear it. Heck, I wanted to hear.

When I made my way back to my spot, I saw that even my wife couldn't keep Chris alert. The combination of a long day, and a drink or two too many, had his eyelids sagging. We all agreed it was time for bed and headed upstairs. Andi maneuvered herself in front of our guest, giving him the perfect view of her ass as she climbed the steps. At the top of the stairs, Andi turned to say goodnight, glanced down at him, and immediately snapped her gaze to me. She smiled and went through the double doors to our room. Chris mumbled something before turning into the bathroom that separated the two guest rooms. I followed Andi and shut the doors.

"He was, you know, tenting." she giggled.

"Of course he was. Think about what he'd be doing now if you'd put on something a little sexier and give a real show."

"No. You're fantasy is screwing the librarian in slutty lingerie. His is screwing Mrs. Peterson." Spreading her arms like a game show hostess introducing the showcase showdown, she said "This is Mrs. Peterson."

"The MILF." I added.

She smiled and repeated "The MILF." She leaned in and gave me a long, wet, kiss. As our lips parted, I heard the baby monitor come to life when his bedroom door opened.

"Shoosh." I said, raising a finger to my lips.

"Whats that?" she asked.

"I turned on the baby monitor."

She punched my arm, actually mad "You can't do that."

"Hold on. Lets give it a second. Don't you want to hear?"

She looked crossly at me.

"If it gets weird, I'll turn it off."

"It's already weird" she said as we listened to him getting undressed.

We heard him as he pulled the bedspread back and climbed onto the mattress. Just like Jessica listening for the slightest sound from her baby, we leaned in. We could hear him breathing, slowly and deeply at first, and speeding up before being drowned out by the sound of him pleasuring himself.

Andi turned to me and asked honestly "What's he doing in there?"

"Jacking off. Jacking off while thinking about you." I said sliding my hand over her ass.