Furnished Room Ch. 02byPeter Duncan©
I offered to take Claire and Stacy out for dinner that night but Claire insisted that we eat in. We spent the time asking and answering questions people ask and answer when they are trying to get to know each other.
Sitting at the table with this handsome man tickled Stacy's imagination. She stared at Lance throughout the meal, sensing her mother's disapproval. But she didn't care. Typical of girls her age she didn't like to think of her mother as a sexual being. She had heard the moans when her parents had made love and was both embarrassed and jealous that her dad had sex with her mother. Like many young girls she had fantasies about her father making love to her. Since her parents argued a lot and the noises in the bedroom had stopped months before he left, she blamed her mother and often lay awake at night hoping he would sneak into her room and find the satisfaction between her legs that he was no longer experiencing with her mother. She missed her dad.
But there was a new man in the house and he was about the same age as her father, more handsome though. The fact that he drove a hot car and that he kept porn in the trunk of his car tickled her imagination. She was sure he probably had a lot of girls and knew what to do with them. The thought of this man's naked body on top of a woman, with his rigid cock impaling her, excited Stacy. She glanced at her mother, knowing that she wouldn't be interested in him. After all, she didn't like sex and had proven that with her father. But she did seem to be hogging the conversation.
After dinner Stacy went to her room. She was restless. She would be graduating soon and didn't really need to study. Looking out the window she saw the black Porsche beyond the curb. There was something in the way the streetlights shone on the glossy dark paint that made it appear naughty. Her eyes went to the trunk and she wished she could open it and take a good look at the magazine, wondering if there were more in the file box. It had only been a brief glance but she made out a naked hunk with his huge erection buried between the legs of an equally naked beautiful blonde girl.
She looked into the mirror and took off her skirt and top, compared herself to the girl in the picture and imagined a huge cock, Lance's, between her legs. Her boyfriend wasn't that big and she wondered if Lance might be. Thinking about her ex boyfriend she sniffed, knowing that no matter how big he was he wouldn't have been able to stay hard long enough to make her feel good. But, she had an idea that Lance could.
She touched herself and was amazed that her panties were damp. It was like she had been playing two hours of volley ball, but the aroma coming from them was not body odor. Her reflection in the mirror showed how pointy her nipples were. She touched them; they were so sensitive that they hurt. Sitting on the bed she laid back, pressed her wet thong into her groove, the fabric wicking more of her leaking wetness and wondered if every girl lubricated as much as she did. She remembered how the bulk of her boyfriend's cock felt sliding so easily inside her before he popped.
There were two things she knew about Lance, two things her mother would be angry with and might ask him to leave if she knew. So, she wasn't going to say anything. The first was the porn magazine. Her mother had caught her looking at porn on the computer once, and had had a fit. So, she would probably be pissed if she knew Lance had it in his car. The other thing, which Stacy found both strange and exciting, was what he did to her panties in the bathroom. After dinner her mother had told her to empty the hamper and wash the clothes. When she did, she found her black panties... all wet, like somebody had blown their nose in them, except, the mucousy deposit smelled just like her boyfriends sperm. That a grown man like Lance had ejaculated in her underwear made her feel quite special. And, she was going to provide him with ample opportunities to do it again.
She bit her lip to stifle her outcry when her tightness released; no way did she want her mother to know that she was playing with herself. As she lay back, feeling the tom-tom of her heart in her ears, she imagined Lance lying on top of her, his thick shaft still inside her wet canal, her wetness being increased by his copious load. When she dropped her wet panties on the bathroom floor she knew her scent would tell him that he was dealing with more than just a naïve school girl.
Before I went to bed that night I went into the bathroom and saw Stacy's panties on the floor. Like a dog sniffing a bitch in heat my nose was in the crotch. They were still damp and I thought, wow, that little tart is either the wettest female in Colorado, or she has masturbated more than once in them. It made me chuckle, knowing I would have to get used to the idea if having such a ready supply of whacking material. I knew she was a tease but hadn't yet figured out that she would be dropping her panties as bait. In my mind, the only woman in this house I was interested in was Claire. I was 45 and hadn't fooled around with a woman under the age of 30 since my divorce three years ago. But, putting my nose in Stacy's panties again I thought, Claire, you had better say something to your daughter about her blatant invitations.
In my room I opened my laptop to do some work but my mind wasn't up to speed on the project yet. So I opened a file and scanned some porn. I loved to look at explicit pictures and rub my cock through my pants. I thought again of Stacy and the flash of embarrassment I felt when she saw the magazine. Maybe I was wrong but I thought I saw her nipples harden when she saw it. I remembered that I had never bothered to password protect my laptop and thought I should, just in case Stacy decided to snoop through my files. I don't want that, I thought. But, remembering her sensual scent I thought, or, maybe I do.
Wide awake in her king sized bed Claire wondered if she did the right thing by renting the room to Lance. Perhaps I should have gone for someone older...less desirable, she thought. What are the neighbors going to think? What about the people at church...Stacy's school...even the people I work with? She had caught Lance looking at her and got a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach as well as experiencing a surprising tingling between her legs.
Since she and her husband stopped having sex she had gotten into the habit of sleeping in a flannel nightgown but tonight she decided to sleep in just a t-shirt. I haven't felt this way in months, she thought...no, it's been years. She had to dig in her drawer for the t-shirt, remembering when she bought it on vacation years ago. It was short and pink and said on the front, "If you can catch me," and on the back, "you can have me anytime you want." Her nipples were sensitive and were excited by the touch of the fabric against them. She pushed on her breasts and thought, God, what am I doing?
I looked at my watch; it was 2:45. Every noise outside the house was amplified. I even thought I could hear stirrings inside the house. My imagination was working overtime. Lying on my back I put my hands behind my head and thought about the luscious woman sleeping down hall, separated by her horny daughter who was an unwitting chaperone. I thought about how classy Claire was, how she dressed with such impeccable taste. I was hard again and my hand found its way down my hairy abdomen, tickled through my pubic patch and my fingers wrapped around my warm, veiny shaft. The last thing I remembered before dropping off to sleep was spurting my load on my stomach.
I awoke and Claire was straddling my legs, her head was bobbing up and down. The feel of the warm slickness of her mouth and the velvet of her tongue tickling the underside of my cock brought me beyond the point of no return. I wanted to cry out her name but, just as I spewed in her mouth, she disappeared. It was the most realistic wet dream I had ever had and, as the cooling semen sagged down my leg, I thought, Jesus, no woman has ever held this kind of an attraction for me before. I had been in and out of a hard-on since I walked in the door today.
I still didn't understand what had happened to her husband...wondered if she were in financial trouble. Claire was too young and too attractive to be alone for a very long time. I was prepared to pay around a thousand a month for an apartment; my company would have paid for 75% of it. If she needs it, I thought, maybe I can...No...I shouldn't impose.
I wondered what she wore to bed...a flannel nightgown, something sheer? Or, maybe she sleeps in a tee shirt? I liked the idea of a tee shirt; easier to get my hands between her legs. Oh shit, what am I gonna do? I know the novelty of this situation will wear off in a couple of days. But my cock is hard as a rock again, my balls ache like crazy...and my dick is getting chaffed.
Claire rolled over and looked at the clock; it was 3:02 and she hadn't gone to sleep yet. Out of the blue the image of a cock filled her mind. It was long, hard, and throbbing. And again her pussy was soaked. She got up and went into the bathroom, turned on the light and ran the water. Looking at her reflection in the mirror she asked herself, "Am I crazy?" She washed her face in cold water but it didn't help.
Back in bed, in the darkness, she caressed her breasts then touched and circled her clitoris. Her finger probed her vagina. Before long, her whole body shook, wracked with wave after wave of inadequate pleasure. There was a roaring in her ears that slowly subsided and her legs became limp as rubber.
I had never been in a house that exuded such sexual tension. And I realized the possibilities there were like something I could be reading in one of those porn magazines. That fact that I was a single man staying in a house with two women (Stacy was still in high school but I still considered her a woman), one who's husband has been away for months, made me shake my head at my good fortune. I thought about the neighbors and what they might think. But they weren't my problem. I wondered again why I agreed. Her voice on the phone had attracted me like the siren Circe did Ulysses. I should have put wax in my ears... never really intended to rent the room. I just wanted to see the person attached to that voice.