Jeremy's Journey Ch. 01byWhatATragedy09©
My name is Jeremy. I wish I was a lot of things. Taller, stronger, a better conversationalist, more apt to understand the female mind. But what I wish for more than anything else is to be less of an asshole. But hey, when opportunity comes knocking at my door, I'm going to take it. And not look back. Looking back is for those of us who don't see what's right in front of our faces. But anyway, that has absolutely nothing to do with this story. My story. About a woman, a bit of laundry detergent, and a whole lot of sex.
Mrs. Dubnicka, my next door neighbor of seventeen years (at the time) was the kind of woman whom, with just one look at her, you could tell married for money. She had this gorgeous figure for a mom of three: dark, thick hair that hung down to the middle of her back in gentle waves, sky blue eyes, a long torso and sexy, incredible legs. Her husband was a dick, though, but he was gone most of the time on business trips and whatnot, so the neighborhood didn't have to put up with him too much. I just liked when he was around simply for the fact that Mrs. Dubnicka got a lot more slutty, as if she HAD to show off how fucking sexy she was around her husband. Many times during my growth into adolescence and slowly maturing to adulthood, I wouldn't have to pull out my secret stash of porn magazines my dad had forgotten he had hid in his drawer over the years. All I'd have to do was look out my bedroom window and see Mrs. Dubnicka in the kitchen, bending over the sink to scrub the dishes , her gorgeous, round tits swinging, almost popping out of those low-cut shirts she loved to wear. And then whenever she'd bend over and stick that firm ass in the air to put the dishes into the dishwasher, it was all I could do not to explode all over my wall right then and there. But that was a long time ago. I'm different now. It's easier to control myself around women.
I guess I should tell you a little bit about myself. I'm actually pretty decent when it comes to looks. A nice stomach, firm from working out with just a hint of lines forming abdominals, relatively strong arms and legs, blue-gray eyes, and dark, shaggy hair. Think of the quintesential skater dude you knew in high school but with a football player's body and you've got me. Oh, and I have this uncanny ability to make any woman my sex slave in a matter of seconds. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.
The summer before my senior year of high school, the Dubnicka's decided they were going to renovate the basement bathroom, enlisting me to help out. Why they picked a high school kid with a limited knowledge of washroom appliances and how to install said appliances when they had tons of money to blow on a professional to do it, I'll never know. But it was just my luck that they did. I remember being down there in the cool air of the basement, dusting off a power tool, when Mrs. Dubnicka walked into the laundry room, which was adjacent to the bathroom.
"Hey Jeremy, hope you don't mind me coming in here. I was just wanted to get some clothes into the dryer." She gave me a smile and I bit my lip, trying hard not to picture her sliding off those shorts she had on and giving me one Hell of a lapdance.
"Sure, no problem Mrs. Dubs." She didn't like when people called her Mrs. Dubnicka, it made her feel too old. And since there was no way I'd ever get up the balls to call her by her first name, Charlotte, this was my improvised nickname I had come up with to make us both happy.
"You're so polite, Jeremy. Aren't you EVER a bad kid?" She laughed lightly, trying to make small talk.
Only when I think about what I'd like to do to you. "Nah...I guess my parents raised me right." I shrugged and continued cleaning off the drill in my hands, using a rag to wipe off any grease or dust that had accumulated over the years of its use.
Mrs. Dubnicka went back upstairs, allowing me a great view of her ass cheeks swinging back and forth as her hips swayed in time with her feet. A raging hard-on was on its way if I kept thinking about her, so instead, I got up and began walking around, cleaning off the drill and checking out the laundry room. There wasn't really much to it. Just your standard washer, dryer, clothesline to hang the clothes once they came out of the dryer, and, of course, the unfinished bathroom to the side. My eyes wandered around as I walked, not paying attention to my surroundings, and I ended up tripping over a cable on the floor and falling down. This wouldn't have been so bad, except for the fact that somehow, the power drill had turned itself on. It began burrowing into the felsh of my arm, deeper and deeper. In my panic, I yanked it out and threw it against the washer, hearing a loud BOOM. The detergent that was on top of the washer wavered back and forth before falling on top of me, immediately covering me in cleaning chemicals. I coughed and spluttered and hopped up, holding my arm in pain.
Except, I wasn't feeling pain anymore. I looked down, and, to my surprise, my arm was actually healing itself. I got a tingly sensation where the wound should have been, and then the entire process was over. Just like that. Good as new. My arm actually looked better than it had before. I sat there for a few minutes, too stunned to do anything. What the Hell had happened?!?!
Finally, I stood up and grabbed the power drill, side-stepping that fucking cable and checking it out. There were spats of blood all over it, so I definitely did not imagine what had just occurred. I set it down gently on top of the washer and then picked up the detergent, looking at the back of the box to examine what it was made out of, and if I should call poison control or not. Nothing was out of the ordinary, but it was hard for me to believe that the combination of grease, rust, and sawdust from the drill and laundry detergent had mixed into my bloodstream and formed some group of super-cells that made me immune to injuries. But to this day, that's still my best guess. Work with it, people.
So, as you can probably imagine, I was curious as to why I wasn't lying on an ambulance bed with Mrs. Dubnicka looking over at me, those round orbs popping from her shirt...My mind jogged itself out of my daydream, knowing I should probably go home and think about what had happened. It was too weird being in such an ordinary place where such an extraordinary event occurred. Quickly, I cleaned off the blood stains from the drill and threw the rag away, bounding up the stairs to the first floor of the house and looking around for Mrs. Dubnicka to tell her I had to get home. I heard noise from her bedroom and knocked on the door.
"Mrs. Dubnicka?" I still heard noises and, wondering if she, too, had had a weird experience and questioning my own sanity, I opened the door to her bedroom, finding her lying on the bed, completely naked, her legs spread wide open, shoving a dildo into her soaking wet pussy. My eyes bugged out and my heartbeat started flying, but I couldn't move. I was stuck, frozen in the most awkward moment of my entire life. She sat up and immediately took the toy out of herself, crossing her legs and trying to cover up.
"Jesus Christ." I said, dumbfounded.
"I think you need to leave, now, Jeremy." Her tone was very cold, I had never heard her be so unpleasant.
"Please don't be mad at me, Mrs. Dubnicka, I didn't mean to..I...I thought..." My voice trailed off, and I think it was the first time in a long time that I had felt so pathetic and childish.
But her entire façade had changed as soon as I finished speaking, a smile was back on her lips, and she got up off the bed, wrapping a sheet around her body.
"Jeremy!" She giggled like a high school girl. "I could never be mad at you. I'm sure you were just worried about me, weren't you?" She looked me right in the eyes, never flitting them to some other part of the room, keeping me locked in her gaze. She licked her lips slowly, hungrily, and bit on her bottom one.
I, still dumbfounded as fuck, could only manage. "Y-yeah. I mean...I heard noises and I wanted to make sure you were okay, and to tell you I had to go..." I looked down at my arm, which had made a full recovery, and then back up at Mrs. Dubnicka, who's eyes were now looking at the bulge in my crotch.
"Shit." I said, trying to hide it, but seeing her play with herself like that, and look at me like that...well, any straight guy would have been in the same predicament I was now faced with.
"Do you really have to go?" There was a little pout in her voice. "I don't mind if you stay."
"W-well...sure...I can...if you want? But I think you should probably put some clothes on." I said, wondering why she was making no move to go get changed. But, once again, as soon as I had finished speaking, she dropped the sheet from her body and immediately started to get dressed. I was getting fairly suspicious of why she was listening to me and doing everything I said so quickly, especially with the expression on her face that made it seem as if NOT doing what I had said would kill her.
"Stop." I said, quietly. She stopped.
"Come here." She immediately ran towards me, her tits bouncing.
"Why are you doing everything I tell you?" I asked, suspicion rising with every passing second.
"Because...I want to make you happy, Jeremy." She blinked once, as if unsure of her answer, and then nodded her head.
I looked back at my arm and up to her face, reviewing the facts in my head.
1.Mrs. Dubnicka had never been anything other than politely and distantly maternal towards me, up until right now.
2.I had just had a drill puncture my skin, possibly bone, and a fucking box of laundry detergent had apparently stopped up my wound.
3.I was horny as fuck after seeing Mrs. Dubnicka playing with herself, and when a seventeen year old kid is horny, he doesn't really give a shit about why he's getting some, he's just glad he is.
I laughed out loud, and Mrs. Dubnicka gave me a concerned look. "What's so funny, Jeremy?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. Hey...could you go get me a beer? Do it naked, and when you come back in, I'd like a lap dance. Thanks doll face." I slapped her ass and waited for a slap on the face, but none came. This was too fucking good.
She just giggled and went downstairs to the kitchen, while I sat down on the bed, thinking hard. So, apparently not only was I indestructible, but I could also control people just by telling them what to do. I tried any other powers I might have attained: lighting myself on fire, flying, and super-speed were all definite no's. It seemed the only physical gain I got from my accident was the fact that I'd never be hurt again. But what about dying? I decided I'd wait and see about that one. For now, I wanted to focus on the mind aspects of my newfound power. I closed my eyes and just let my thoughts wander, until I heard Mrs. Dubnicka's voice.
"God he's so sexy, and the way he talks to me! I just want to fuck him so badly. I'll give Jeremy the best lap dance of his life." I opened my eyes but didn't see her. Reading people's minds...check. I reached my thoughts out again and heard Mrs. Dubnicka's voice. You want to please Jeremy more than anything else in the world. Jeremy's needs come first. Your husband does not give you pleasure, only Jeremy does. When you masturbate, you'll think of Jeremy, and you'll get wetter than ever before knowing you're his sexy little cum slut. I had no idea if that made an impact on her, but I sure as Hell was happy with what happened next.
She came in holding the beer can and I took it from her, downed about half of it, and splashed the rest all over her. "Lick it off your tits, Charlotte."
I pulled my cock out, watching as she held up those huge orbs, sucking and licking the beer off of herself. Stroking myself while I looked at her, I said, "Wasn't there something about a lap dance I told you to do for me, slut?" Apparently, once issued a command, the next command in line cancelled out the first one. I'd have to remember that for later.
She immediately stopped licking her tits and stood above me while I sat on the bed, swinging her hips from side to side. I looked up and saw nothing but her tits swinging in time with her hips. This drove me wild; I just had to touch them. And that's exactly what I did. While she lowered herself into my lap, gyrating and rubbing up against my now rock-hard dick, I played with her tits, squeezing, rubbing, and licking them all over before sucking a nipple into my mouth. She made an oooooooo sound and I just smiled, gently nipping at the tip of her pointed breasts, causing another series of moans to ensue.
She wiggled her ass off of my lap and down my legs until her knees hit the floor, rubbing her tits around the bulge of my jeans. "Fuck..." I said softly, undoing my pants and pulling off my boxers, my cock springing forward and nearly hitting her in the face. She looked up at me, apparently needing further instructions. "Suck my cock, bitch. Deep throat me after a while. Make me feel good. You want to make me feel good. It makes you incredibly wet to know I'm hard for you."
I looked down at the face of the woman who up until this point was just a distant fantasy, but now a complete and total reality. Her warm, wet tongue made small circles over my head, causing me to moan out in bliss before she sucked my head into her mouth, rolling the skin back and forth slowly. She took in more and more of me, little by little, letting me enjoy that steamy, sensual feeling of getting sucked off. God she was good at blowjobs. I could've stayed like that forever. She worked her mouth up and down my cock, making every muscle in me tense up and relax, over and over, until I felt as if I was about to explode. I tried holding it in, and it worked...until I felt my head hit the back of her throat. A small gurgling sound emanated from her, yet she still shoved my dick down further, her tongue flicking over my balls.
"Oh...yeah...yeah Charlotte right there. Oh fuck baby that feels so good...keep going...come on, slut..." I put my hand on the back of her head, making her pump harder and faster up and down. "Suck it!"
And she did. I came in her mouth, spurting inside of her until I was drained of every last drop, and told her she could stop sucking me.
"You're a good little whore, Charlotte." I gave her a devious smile and reached down, letting my middle finger travel up her soaking wet slit, touching her clit and watching her shiver in pleasure.
"Thank you, Jeremy...oh thank you." She replied, standing up and spreading her legs farther apart for me.
I grinned, and dipped one finger into her, inhaling the aroma of her womanhood, reaching my neck forward to have a quick taste, when I heard from the doorway, "MOM!?!?!?!"