Memory Foam Mattress Topping

Since they were three, our son, Andrew, was best friends with Chad. Chad and his family lived a few blocks away. We met them at the local playground and the boys hit it off from their first meeting. Even though years passed and their interests diverged, they only seemed to grow closer. Andrew became more interested in computers and science-fiction while Chad turned into a football playing jock. This proved fortuitous in their later years because Andrew became a frequent target of bullies. After the first few times, I stopped worrying because Chad always stood up for Andrew. He made it clear that anyone who messed with Andrew would have to deal with him. He went on to demonstrate it more than once. Andrew, like his father and me, was a small guy. Once fully grown, he was 5' 4" and a whopping 125 pounds. Chad, on the other hand, was always the tallest in his classes. Once finished growing, at 6' 6" he was over a foot taller that Andrew and was easily double his weight in muscle.

During their senior year, Chad's parents had to move away for work. Because the boys were closer to each other than they were to their siblings it was a no-brainer that we would offer up our home for Chad to finish out the year. We knew how difficult it would be for him to start at a new school with only a few months left before graduating. Selfishly, we also knew it would devastate Andrew to lose his closest friend.

We had always liked Chad and did everything we could to make him comfortable after he moved into the guest bedroom. After a few days of uncertainty, he finally relaxed into his new family life. Part of this included walking around wearing only the boxers he slept in. At night before bed and in the morning as he was getting ready for school, he'd travel between his room and the bathroom or occasionally the kitchen for a drink topless. We didn't have a problem with it but our sons, Andrew included, typically wore undershirts when they slept so it wasn't something we were used to seeing. Not only that, but Chad's body was completely out of place in our house. Having turned 18 weeks before moving in, he already had a body that grace the cover of a fitness magazine. Combined with his conservatively styled light brown hair, brown eyes and his solid, square face, he was a handsome young man who could pass for years older. It was easy to see why he was popular with the girls at school.

One morning only a week after moving in, I encountered him in the hall exiting his room to go to the bathroom. He shambled his way across the hall barely acknowledging my presence. Though I was used to this from the other sleepy teens in the house, I couldn't help staring as he bumped into the door jamb of the open bathroom door. What had caught my eye was the huge piss hard-on that was sticking out of the fly of his shorts. Larger than anything I had ever seen outside of a video, I was rooted to my spot by disbelief staring through the barely closed door as he struggled to relieve himself. Part of me wanted to believe it was just the novelty of seeing such a handsome young man exposed that was altering my vision. But the logic of the situation assured me that swaying in front of Chad was indeed an impressive erection. Hearing the toilet flush and seeing him turn to the sink, I scampered away down the stairs hoping he didn't notice me.

A few days later, I passed him again. This time, instead of sticking out of his fly, the top of his erection was peaking above the waistband of his boxers. Though this time I knew what I was seeing, I still couldn't take my eyes off it. Unfortunately, he caught me. I saw him glance down at himself and upon seeing that he was exposed, he shrugged as he stepped into the bathroom.

"I really gotta go," he said. Not bothering to close the door, he lowered the waistband of his shorts beneath his equally impressive scrotum and aimed his rod toward the toilet. His stream started in fits and spurts as he tried to direct it into the bowl.

As I realized I was watching him relieve himself, I reluctantly turned away from the sight to start breakfast.

After that, each morning he would intercept my journey to the kitchen and give me a view of his morning wood. He never moved to cover it and often chatted with me for a few moments either before entering the bathroom or while he stood at the toilet. Most of the time, his erection would rise from his waistband. A few times he left the room without an erection. As we stood and talked his dick would grow, tenting the fabric of his shorts. That seemed more obscene to me than him talking to me with it completely exposed.

I knew that I should have put a stop to it but I was so enthralled by the size of it that I couldn't get enough of seeing it. Unfortunately, by doing so, I realized too late that I was encouraging him. Soon, throughout the day I'd catch him watching me with obvious lust in his eyes. Occasionally, I'd discover him standing silently watching me, massaging his crotch. Each time, I'd be shocked not by his actions but by the fact that he found me attractive. At the time, I was nearing 40 and depressed upon realizing I had turned into my mother. Admittedly, my self-esteem needed the lift so his attention was not unwelcome. That Chad could desire me in the same way he talked about the girls at school was flattering. I hated myself for doing it but I began to flirt with him.

Seeing I was not opposed to what he was doing, his actions quickly progressed to rubbing himself against me. Hard or soft, he began to press his crotch against me every chance he got. If we were in close quarters he would grab my hips and slide himself around me. In the kitchen, he would press his packed crotch against me as he helped me reach for something in a high cabinet.

I soon became enthralled by not just the size of his dick but his entire body. Compared to everyone else in the house, he was a giant. His muscles were nice and solid and I touched them whenever I had the chance to be alone with him. Even when we weren't alone, he began to tease me by sneaking up on me in order to pick me up and carry me around like a rag doll as I writhed against him. At 5' 4" and 120 pounds myself, it was easy for Chad to lift me. Each time I would squeal and fight against him, taking the chance to rub my hands over his body. When he lowered me, he would slide me down his body making sure I felt his concealed hardness.

It was a running joke in our family that nothing short of a bomb could wake Paul, my husband, before his alarm. He was a very heavy sleeper and everyone knew it. This allowed things to begin happening that I know would not have otherwise.

One morning, just over a month after Chad moved in, I was in the ensuite bathroom Paul and I shared finishing my shower. I heard the door open and was surprised that Paul would be up that early. Intending to ask if he felt okay I turned off the water, pulled back the shower curtain and was stunned to see Chad leaning against the open frame of the door.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a harsh whisper.

"I figured that since you've seen what I have, it's only fair that I see what you've been hiding."

His baritone voice echoed in the small room and I shushed him but did not cover myself.

"You know he's not going to wake up," he said dismissively. He took a few steps toward me. After grabbing the towel from the hook, he passed it to me before leaving.

Once dressed, I left the room as normal and expected him to intercept me in the hall. When I passed, I heard him in the bathroom. Even muffled by the sound of the shower running, there was no mistaking his soft moaning. I was flattered that I had that effect on him but part of me was disappointed that I couldn't watch him.

I was working on breakfast when I felt his large body press against mine. His hands moved to cup my breasts.

"I thought you should know I liked what I saw," he said. "You've got a hot body, little momma."

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he pulled away and moved to pour himself juice as Andrew entered the kitchen.

Having upped the ante, Chad continued to enter the bathroom in the morning while I was showering. If I didn't do it then he'd pull back the curtain and watch me wash while he stroked his concealed erection. However, he never masturbated himself to completion in front of me.

I wanted to see it, to ask him to finish while I watched, but I reasoned that if I never verbalized it, I couldn't be held responsible for his actions and could play victim if necessary.

"Mrs. Carlton."

I rolled over and blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the dark room.

"Mrs. Carlton?"

"Chad?" I finally recognized the face hovering next to my bed in the dark room. "What's wrong?"

"I have a big problem and can't sleep."

"What is it?"

"This." He stood up quickly from his bent position and placed his hands on my head, holding it to the mattress.

I felt something firm press against my lips and instinctually opened it to ask what was happening, what the hell he thought he was doing. Unfortunately, that gave him the access he needed and I felt what I now recognized as his dick slide into my mouth. I raised my hands to his torso intending to push him away.

"Calm down," Chad ordered as he held himself still in my mouth. Even though he was trying to whisper, his voice resonated in the quiet room. "Relax and you'll be fine."

I didn't know how I could possibly relax. I didn't have much of him in my mouth but his girth had my jaw stretched to its limit and he was already touching the top of my throat. If he decided to go deeper, I would surely choke.

As he began to slowly pull back before pushing forward, setting up a regular rhythm, he moved one of his hands to mine and began to direct it over his torso to his pecs. "Play with my tits," he said.

Feeling the solid muscles and stiff nipple beneath my hand, I did as he requested. Soon both my hands were on his chest, pinching and pulling at the hard nubs.

I knew that what was happening was wrong, that I was being violated, but I couldn't stop myself from going with it. Chad was doing to me what I never would have asked him to do. Though I had wanted him from the moment I first saw him exposed, I was happily married and he was my son's best friend. That should have been enough to make me put an end to this, should have made me turn my head outside the bathroom. Chad had read me and was using me for his own purposes and I was secretly happy he had. Even now, I had not given him permission to use my mouth as he was but by not struggling, I was urging him on.

Feeling me relax, he released his grip on my head and hand and moved them both to the mattress for support as he leaned over me and continued to pump his hips.

Though I couldn't see behind me, Chad had to be nearly face to face with Paul sleeping on the other side of the bed. I knew the soft sound of Chad's moaning and the wet sound of his dick moving through my mouth wouldn't wake my husband. We had a memory foam mattress that isolated movements so the motion of the bed wouldn't wake him, either. What I did worry about was Paul rolling over and colliding with Chad causing him to wake. The reason we had the mattress was because Paul was a restless sleeper and spent many nights changing positions in his sleep.

"I'm going to come," Chad announced.

I heard Paul shift behind me as Chad let out a soft grunt when he began to orgasm. Chad's dick released shot after shot of thick fluid into my mouth. After two, the volume of it combined with the fact that my mouth was already near capacity with his crown, I either had to swallow quickly or risk it running out of my mouth onto the bed. It seemed forever before it calmed yet I couldn't resist continuing to suckle on it, swallowing whatever dribbled out.

"Thanks for that," he said as he pulled out and began to walk away.

"Chad?" Paul said sleepily. He sat up and addressed me. "Hon, is everything okay?"

"Yeah." I made a show of getting comfortable, making sure to keep my semen-scented breath away from him. "He couldn't sleep and needed to talk. Everything's fi—"

Paul had already fallen back asleep.

Despite the guilt I was feeling about enjoying what had just happened, I began to finger myself. Needing to release the arousal that Chad had caused, I brought myself off quickly and quietly before falling back asleep.

Two nights later, Chad woke me again. Instead of calling to me, it was the feeling of my body being touched that pulled me from sleep. As I came to consciousness, I realized he was standing next to the bed and had his hand in my pajama bottoms. A few thick fingers pushed into my slit as he slid his shaft across my closed lips. I shifted my head to take him into my mouth and sucked him off as he fingered me. When I finally orgasmed, it was intense and I barely held back my scream of ecstasy. Chad soon followed me and the sound of our breathing was loud in the room in our post orgasmic high.

He continued to visit me during the night and fingered me while I sucked him off. Each time, we became bolder until he was lying on the bed himself and I was on top of him in a 69 position. Even though I eagerly serviced him, I was never able to take more than his large, bullet-shaped head and an inch or so of his shaft into my mouth but it was enough. During it all, Paul never did more than shift on the bed, unaware of what was happening next to him.

It was a natural progression to what happened next. One night I was awakened by him spreading my legs. I opened my eyes just as he collected some spit on his fingers and spread it over the head of his dick. Even as he lowered his body and lined himself up, I wasn't yet coherent enough to realize what his intentions were. However I was forced conscious and gasped from the pressure of his powerful entry and the way his girth spread my tight slit.

Showing me no mercy, he seemed oblivious to my discomfort as he steadily pushed deeper into me. "Quiet, little momma," he said in his non-whisper. It was then that I realized I was whimpering. "You know this is what you've been wanting. Relax and enjoy it."

It was easier said than done. The discomfort bordered on being painful, yet the constant pressure against my vaginal walls was intensely stimulating. I felt like I was being penetrated for first time. He was touching areas inside me in a way that was much different from Paul. Though it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, it seemed like an eternity before he stopped moving, filling me completely.

"Damn, that's fucking hot," he said as he looked down at where we were joined.

I followed his eyes. Even though he could go no deeper, there were still at least two inches left outside of my body.

He pulled back slowly and set up a sedate pace fucking me. His strokes spanned half his length which was more than the entire length of Paul's hard dick.

Normally, I'm an active participant when Paul and I have sex. Whether it's directing him or responding to his requests, I enjoy moving around and making the most of it. With Chad, all I could do was lay there and take it. Not because his large body above me prevented any motion but because I was overloaded with thoughts and sensations. I couldn't even raise a hand to massage the muscles that I loved. While struggling to remain quiet, I reveled in feeling him move through me. I could feel every bump and ridge as his thickness slid against my increasingly slick walls. Though there was an obvious purpose in his thrusts, he was careful to not push fully into me and cause injury.

Above me, he moaned, muttered and cursed as he took his pleasure. In my stupor it was all incoherent. It wasn't until I heard him grunt and felt his seed flow into me that I woke from my trancelike state. I urged him out of me but, even with me pushing against him, he didn't remove himself until his dick calmed and he was finished. Chad took his time pulling out. Without a word, he calmly left the room.

Because he hadn't worn a condom, a number of worrisome thoughts started racing through my mind. I knew he left me gaping and unless I made it to the bathroom quickly -- which I did -- there would definitely be a mess on the sheet which would prompt an explanation in the morning. As I sat on the toilet, the bigger concern was the fact that I was fertile but not on the pill. Even more problematic was the fact that Paul and I routinely didn't have sex during my fertile period so a pregnancy would be very difficult to explain.

After a sleepless night, I left early for work and stopped at the pharmacy for a pill. Despite my better judgement, I also grabbed a pack of condoms. I knew I shouldn't keep having sex with Chad, but the reality was now that it had happened, it would probably continue. Upon returning home, I not so subtly placed the box on the center of his bed.

When Chad got home, I waited for his reaction. Though we weren't able to talk about it, I could tell he was not happy.

That night, he woke me as he was pushing into me. I could tell he was unprotected and asked about it. "Why aren't you wearing a condom?"

"Because I don't like them," he responded.

"Then you need to get out of me," I said calmly as I tried futilely to push him away.

"I will," he said evenly. He grabbed my hands and held them in one of his above my head. "After I finish. And don't think about screaming." With me still impaled on him, he repositioned us so I was on top of him. "It would be hard to explain to Paul why you're riding me."

Still holding my hands with one hand, he wrapped his other arm around my torso and held me close while he thrust up into me. Rougher than before, it was obvious he enjoyed the power over me as it didn't take him long to orgasm. Driving home the fact that he was in control, despite my quiet protesting, he continued to hold me to him until his dick softened to the point of falling out of me. Only then did he release me, allowing me to go clean myself.

The next night, I was awakened by the sound of the door to our bedroom rattling. I had locked it to prevent Chad's entry before laying down. I smiled to myself as I heard him huff in frustration before returning to his room. And instead of getting to the kitchen early the following morning, I waited until I heard Andrew get up and head down.

For the next few days, I did everything I could to avoid being alone with Chad for too long.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

I turned to glare at him. He had followed me into the kitchen from the backyard where we had all been enjoying a nice spring day and was closing the distance between us.

"Because I can't let you keep doing the things you want to do," I said. Face to face with him, it didn't come out as harsh as I wanted.

"Come on, little momma. We both know you don't want to give this up." He grabbed one of my hands and placed it on his crotch, making me massage it.

Despite his superior strength, he let me pull my hand away. "I can and I will."

He gave me a smirk that made me question my conviction. "We'll see about that."

More nights passed without us being together and though he tried to pretend otherwise, I could see him becoming more agitated with each passing day. I didn't fear for my safety as I knew he wouldn't risk his friendship with Andrew, despite what had already happened. I didn't know how wrong I was.

I slipped up one morning and went downstairs early. When he pushed me against the refrigerator, I was genuinely surprised.

"Fine," Chad said as he turned me to face him. "If you want to play it this way, I can do that, too."

I could see that he was angry. Wearing only boxers, his oversized erection was sticking out of the fly. I was not surprised that it was unsheathed.

He reached under my skirt and deftly pulled off my underwear. Lifting me easily, he pushed into me and fucked me with no mercy.