Fat Bottomed . . . Girls?

"Oh Sam," she sighed, "today was about giving you something to think about once you'd finished playing football pr going drinking with your mates; I wanted you to have a real memory of what it was like to be with a woman properly, to keep you going while I'm away. Then," she smiled then, "I was planning to seduce you when I came back. Do you think it would have worked?"

Once again, I was rendered speechless by her brazen comments. I hoped she wasn't put off by seeing me sitting with my mouth wide open in shock, as that was what was happening again!

"I presume from your expression it would" she smiled, "and it could even have been now if this is any guide". So saying, her hand moved across to my thigh and took hold of my cock where it had hardened again at her words, more wetness soaking my leg and jeans as she stroked my length.

All too soon we reached my house, where it appeared that my mother was still out at work. I was totally relieved by this, as my rod was clearly evident through the denim and my pre-cum had soaked the surrounding material to a large, dark patch.

"I'll let you go now, Sam" Hazel smiled at me again, giving one last squeeze of my cock. "Think of me while I'm gone, and I'll see you when I get back".

With that, she pretty much pushed me out of the car, and I ran into the house in a sort of half-crouch, attempting to hide evidence of my arousal from any nosy neighbours. When I looked back from the front door, Hazel was already on her way, waving over her shoulder as she drove. I went inside and headed straight upstairs to my room, where I stripped off my jeans and pants, freeing my pulsating cock and lying back on my bed so I could take it in my hand and pound away mercilessly for all of two minutes, until I spunked all over my fingers, stomach and nearly up as far as my nipple-line, so fierce was the ejaculation caused by the visions of Hazel's body in my mind.

As the sperm cooled to a sticky jelly on my body, I wondered what it tasted like; I had seen magazines that told of girls sucking men's cocks and swallowing the cum, and thought if it tasted as nice as Hazel's pussy had smelled, it would be delicious.

Well, it wasn't all that bad! When I poked my tongue out gingerly towards my hand and touched the spunk on my fingers, it was still quite warm; slightly salty flavour but no, not too bad at all. It felt a bit odd mind you, but I could understand how women could suck it down fairly easily. At the same time, I cold also understand how the texture might well be horrible to some -- a lesson that stood me in good stead in later years, but that wasn't needed in Hazel's case as it turned out!

I wandered in to the bathroom and started running a bath for myself -- no showers in most working-class British homes in those days! -- and was soon lying in the deep, warm soapy water, ruminating yet again about the days events. I could still scarcely believe what had happened, but all I needed to do was shut my eyes and the vision of Hazel's magnificent mammary was forefront in my mind, the smell of her womanhood filling my nostrils.

When I opened my eyes again, it was to the sight of my cock proudly sticking up from the water, the head shiny and purple, aching for release one more time. I lay back, grasping the shaft in my hand, stroking it gently at first, then quicker & quicker until my hand was like a blur on the meat of my shaft. This time it took much longer for me to reach a climax, but when I did it seemed as if there was even more shooting out of me than before, three or four thick white ropes covering my belly and chest, with several small blobs landing in the water which quickly turned to jelly, floating just under the surface. I made sure to avoid these as I stood up, and also that they all washed away when I emptied the bath, after noticing a couple of the blobs sticking to the sides of the tub. By now I was feeling both sore and a bit tired, so went through and lay on my bed, after putting on some underwear and jeans, whereupon I fell sound asleep.

Unsurprisingly perhaps, my dreams consisted mainly of the events of the afternoon taken to the Nth degree, where I was fucking Hazel in every position I could imagine (not that many to be honest, knowing as little as I did about sex at that stage) but I must have been enjoying it as I woke with a loud groan still on my lips and yet another rampant erection in my jeans. Thankfully it was just a meaningless groan, because when I opened my eyes there was my mother, having obviously shaken me awake!

Equally thankfully, from my point of view, was that at some point during my nap I had turned over to lie on my front, meaning mum couldn't see the erection filling the front of my jeans, though it was still a little difficult to answer her as I was so aware of it myself!

"Are you OK Sam?" she asked, "you sounded like you were in pain for a minute there".

"No, no mum" I stammered, "I'm fine. I must have been having a bad dream or something, I can't really remember".

"Alright then", she said, "I'm going to quickly get changed, then I'll get dinner on. Anything in particular you fancy?"

Given it was in the forefront of my mind, I early said "Hazel's pussy"; but I managed to refrain! Instead, I merely said I was happy with whatever she wanted to cook -- which I usually was, so that wasn't at all unusual for me -- at which mum went through to her own room, changed quickly into her usual slacks and blouse, then went downstairs to start dinner.

I was then able to turn over, releasing the pressure on my stiff member. Given how many times I'd already cum today, and the lack of pre-cum when with girls before, my belly and pants were surprisingly sticky with emissions from simply dreaming of Hazel. I cleaned up, again, and put on a t-shirt before going downstairs.

Mum had made us both omelettes, hers plain and mine with ham and cheese, adding a pile of salad stuff and various pickles and dressings. A bit healthy for a 70's kid you'll be thinking -- and you'd be right! However, it wasn't our usual type of evening meal and it was only because my dad was out on a work's night out we had it. Usually we sat down as a family to eat a "proper" dinner, but mum liked a lighter choice sometimes, and made the most of dad not being here to have it, including a glass of wine for herself and a can of beer for me -- a rare treat at home, as most drinking in those days went on in the pub.

That was the good part. The not-so-good part was that no dad meant mum only had me to talk to, and her topic of choice was Hazel. Well, what else would it be? She asked if my journeys had been going alright, and if we got on well. I was able to answer "yes" to both of these questions, of course, but I didn't really elaborate on either answer. Mum persisted though, asking what Hazel had talked about; work stuff mostly (true enough) was the answer, but she wanted to know if Hazel had spoken about her husband.

I replied that no, she hadn't mentioned him at all, which mum seemed to find quite telling in and of itself. She then proceeded to tell me Hazel had confided in her that Stan (her husband) "hasn't touched her" for months, meaning they hadn't made love at all since before Christmas, and she had told mum she was "gagging for it!".

Now, that kind of talk was usually totally off limits from my mum, but I think the second glass of wine she had helped herself to had loosened her tongue more that a little. She went on to add that Hazel had been very keen to have kids, but it had never worked out for them as Stan apparently had a low sperm count or something. Of course, not making love, or not much, wouldn't help in that respect either, but I wisely opted not to say that! It did help to explain, at least a little, why Hazel might have acted towards me the way she did, but not the biggest question I had; why me?

Mum carried on talking though and let slip that she and Hazel spoke to each other quite a lot more than I realised, and that Hazel had spoken very highly of me to her, which he was quietly proud about. She also told me that the holiday she and Stan had just embarked on was a "make or break" scenario, as Hazel planned to try and "patch things up" between them once and for all. She didn't say what might happen if it was "break", though even way back then divorce wasn't entirely unheard of.

I think mum realised at that point she might have said too much, as all of a sudden she stopped talking and gathered all the dishes up to go and wash them (no dishwasher in those days either!) I offered to help, but she shooed me away, perhaps in case she said anything else she felt she shouldn't!

I went upstairs to listen to some records and to think a little bit about what mum had said. It seemed to me, with my miniscule knowledge of women, that Hazel wasn't "getting any" as we said then, and had picked me as a sort of replacement for her husband. I wasn't averse to that by any means, mostly because I'd never met him, plus I couldn't understand why he wouldn't want to make love to such a sexy woman. I reckoned if she wanted me to have sex with her it was his own fault, and I wouldn't feel bad about it.

Nowadays, I would hope I would have thought about things a lot differently; then though, as a horny teenager, it seemed quite a reasonable state of affairs to me and I would be quite happy to allow whatever was going to happen, happen. In the meantime, the "teasers" that Hazel had given me were more than enough to keep, and/or get, me hard for large portions of the next week, day and night; by the time the next weekend came round I was able to hold off from cumming when I masturbated for anything up to an hour sometimes, though more usually 30 or 40 minutes. I had discovered my mum's face cream stuff was a very pleasant lubricant too, easily purchased in a large jar from the shop in the next town so mum wouldn't find out, with the added bonus of easing the soreness in my cock from all the stroking I was doing!

Despite all this, the week fairly dragged in. The weather had turned chilly for summer-time, and my mates were reluctant to go out and play football, go cycling or any other activities. The truth is we were starting to drift apart, as boys do when the common elements of school or work are no longer there, though my two best mates I still saw two or three times a week.

When Saturday came, so the sunny weather returned. I woke earlier than I had all week, very aware that Hazel (and Stan) was returning home today. After a hurried breakfast I jumped on my bike (pushbike that is; no way I would have been allowed a motorbike when still living at home!) and pedalled furiously to where I could wait and watch for Hazel to come home.

Of course, given that Whitby was a good few hour's drive away and they almost certainly wouldn't be setting off very early, I had quite a time to wait. It was after 2 before I caught sight of Hazel's car, with Stan driving, pull into their driveway. They seemed to me to be quite friendly towards each other, which made me wonder if the break had "gone well" after all. Both of them seemed to have caught the sun, which meant they must have had better weather than we'd had; I wondered if Hazel had got any part of her boobs suntanned, and what it might look like if she had.

I lay in the long grass, watching as Hazel oversaw Stan emptying the car and taking the suitcase inside. Now and again she touched him, stroking his arm, or patting his shoulder, and I presumed from that the holiday had indeed gone well, and they had rekindled their relationship.

Selfishly, I was annoyed at first, as I presumed that meant Hazel would have no time for me now, and might not even want to keep giving me a lift to work. Then my mature head spoke up, and said it would be a good thing if they had reconciled, as they clearly loved each other once upon a time and deserved to make it work if they possibly could.

"Where the fuck did THAT come from?" I asked myself incredulously, "since when did you start having adult thoughts, Sam?"

It felt good, though, to think like that, and I picked my bike up to head home. As I looked down one last time at Hazel's house, I thought she had spotted me up on the hill; seeing her turn away, though, it seemed I had managed to get away without being seen.

~

Sunday dawned warm and sunny once more, and I debated on what I would do today; well, once I had taken care of my now regular morning hard-on anyway. I had a quick wash before heading downstairs and making myself some breakfast. Mum was already there and dad was heading out for his regular Sunday rounds of golf with his friends. They usually played two rounds which took them most of the day, so I knew it would probably be just me and mum in the house.

That suited me fine, as there was some studying I wanted to do for my apprenticeship exams, which I was looking forward to re-starting tomorrow, and mum was going to telephone Hazel later to confirm she was able to collect me as usual now she was home.

I worked away on my revision for a couple of hours, until it grew rather warm in my room and I went downstairs to get a glass of water. I went straight to the kitchen and got my water, then planned to stick my head round the door and say hello to mum, maybe getting an idea of when she planned to have lunch.

"Oh, hi there Sam. How are you?" came the question from . . . . Hazel! What?

Where had she come from? I hadn't heard the front door bell or a knock at the door, though there again I had been studying quite intensely and had my music on, so that maybe wasn't a surprise.

I at least had enough presence of mind not to drop my glass, but it was a close thing. I hadn't expected to see Hazel until tomorrow -- not that it would really have helped quell any nerves I had, and I admit I stammered a bit when I answered I was well, thanks, and how had she enjoyed her holiday?

"Well, we actually had a lovely time" she gushed, "and I got a lovely tan". So saying, she stood up and pirouetted in front of mum and me, showing that she did indeed have a lovely tan on her arms, shoulders and upper chest (DON'T look too hard!), then she leant over to raise her skirt and show her rather shapely legs were also a sexy golden colour.

Of course, she was turned more towards me as she stood up and, as she bent over, the top of her dress gaped open enough that I could see straight down the front, where I could see that the tops of her wonderfully full breasts were also that same glorious golden hue. When she then lifted her skirt to show us her legs I was in heaven; they too were golden brown, so smooth and soft looking I felt my boner stiffen almost immediately down the leg of my jeans.

I made some inane "oh that's nice" comment, while my mum was a bit more constructive with hers.

I took the opportunity to sit down on the sofa, and did my best to hide what was going on in my trousers. I was doing alright too, right up to the point Hazel sat back down herself - right beside me! I was sure she'd let the skirt of her dress remain higher than it normally would be, showing off her tanned thigh mere inches away from me. I also noticed that the dress was rather low cut in front, which explained how it had been so easy to see down the front of it a couple of minutes earlier.

I kind of zoned out for a little while, 'coming back' only when mum stood up and headed for the kitchen.

"Would you like a cup of tea Hazel?" she asked, looking over her shoulder towards the pair of us sitting on the sofa.

"Oh, yes please Jean" came the reply, turning to look at me as she spoke. Much softer, almost in a whisper, "Did you miss me Sam? Even a little bit?" a slow wink suggesting she really didn't need an answer to that!

I blushed at that, then my previous imagined bravado became a reality. I reached out and stroked her thigh, relishing the firm softness under my hand.

"Oh yes," I murmured back, "I missed you by the cumload, at least twice a day, every day!"

I was taken aback when Hazel blushed at my comment, though I didn't think it was as obvious as mine must have been thanks to her tan. It was a deep blush, and crept down to cover the top swells of her bosom, or at least the tiny crescents I could see from where I sat. I found that extremely sexy, to the point my slightly deflated cock surged back to life even harder and thicker than before.

I took the hand nearest me and gently placed it on my throbbing member.

"THIS is how much I missed you," I said, "did you miss me Hazel?"

I could just make out a gasp as her hand moved along my length, thumb and fingers forming a half-circle round the thick tube that seemed to be lying on my leg. She barely moved her hand, just enough that I could feel her digits trace the outline of my glans through the denim material. I could see her breasts as they moved up and down with her rapid breathing, her bottom lip between her teeth and thighs pressed tightly together.

"Oh Sam, I thought of you every day I was away". She spoke softly, to avoid any possibility my mum would overhear I supposed. She gripped my hardness even tighter as she added

"I thought of this," added squeeze, "every day. I dreamed of what I wanted to do with it", a slight hitch here, before "I made myself cum, thinking of you Sam!"

I must confess I was more than a little shocked at her words, and the intensity of them. I couldn't really comprehend how such a sexy mature woman could feel that way about a slightly gawky, shy teenager. But Hazel wasn't finished yet; not quite.

"I persuaded Richard (her husband) to have sex with me, twice, when we were away". She gripped me hard, again, when I gasped out loud at her revelation. "It only lasted a few minutes each time - it was like he couldn't be bothered. I was thinking of you the whole time Sam, and I want to make what I was dreaming reality, for me - and you!"

I was just about to answer her when mum reappeared with the tray of tea. Luckily, we had a few seconds notice on hearing the squeak of the kitchen door (that dad hadn't got around to oiling yet - go dad!) whereupon Hazel quickly let go of my rigid shaft and sat back on her side of the sofa, leaving me to try and hide my obvious erection as best I could.

I'm not sure just how successful I was, but fortunately mum was so busy talking with Hazel even before she'd got into the room; she barely looked in my direction long enough to be able to notice anything out of the ordinary. The sheer terror of being caught with a raging hard-on by my own mother was enough to make it shrivel pretty quickly, so by the time she moved to hand me my tea there was no obvious evidence of it. Somehow, I'd also managed not to leak, not much at least, and nothing visible through the material of my jeans.

I drank my tea down as quickly as possible, while mum and Hazel chattered away about her holiday and plans of the next few weeks, some of which would overlap with mums. I was just about to take my leave and escape to my room when mum asked Hazel if she was still OK to take me to work.

"Oh, of course I am Jean!" she sounded surprised my mum even had to ask, "I wouldn't want to leave poor Sam high & dry like that"

She turned to me during that last sentence and winked at me as she said it, using the eye nearest to me so mum couldn't see. She turned back towards mum again before I could answer, so I simply muttered "Thanks, Hazel" before mum could say anything, and stood up to leave.

Hazel turned towards me again and said,

"So, Sam, what time do you want me to come for you tomorrow?"

Again she winked, and I felt my mouth going dry despite the mug of tea I had just finished. Even I, a naive 19 year old, could recognise the double meaning in her question, but even so I managed to stammer out a response.