New Balls Please

It was one of those swelteringly hot July days. I remember I was wearing a loose, floral printed pair of calf-length slacks and my bikini top. We were out in our back garden lounging around the pool, with Wimbledon commentary quietly droning from the radio. My husband Bryan and I were sitting in deckchairs, he quietly snoring. My daughter Julia was floating in the pool, her arms stretched along the parapet and her boyfriend, Peter was propped up on one of the sunbeds, wearing a pair of khaki shorts and revealing a bare, hairless chest, his T-shirt abandoned beside him on the grass. The kids had just finished school and were enjoying a lazy summer before they went off to university. Jules had been accepted by my old Oxford alma mater; Peter's A-Level results had been slightly less spectacular and he would be studying just down the road at the University of Surrey.

Peter's mother and I had worked together as research chemists for more than 20 years before I decided to take a generous redundancy payment at the age of 45 a couple of years ago, and he and Jules had been together since their early teens. As I had numerous times before, I reflected on how lucky my daughter was to have a boy like him: intelligent, polite, considerate, and always most courteous to me, a real gentleman, so rare these days. He was quite good-looking too, a couple of inches shorter than me but with a good, rugby-toned physique, a mop of sandy-blond hair, twinkling blue eyes and a dimpled chin. Sitting on the sunbed, his legs splayed, the bulge in his shorts suggested he had plenty to offer in other ways too.

I felt a blush warming my cheeks and quietly giggled to myself - I had no idea where that thought had come from, it must have been the combined effect of the hot sun and the rioja I'd mixed into our jug of sangria. I'd never for a moment thought of Peter in those terms before, yet...yet now the notion had entered my head I found it difficult to resist my treacherous eyes slipping back in that direction. Guiltily I dragged my gaze away. A couple of minutes later I glanced back in his direction and saw with a shock that he was staring at me, a slight smile on his face. I smiled back politely, innocently I hoped; surely with my sunglasses on he couldn't have seen where my eyes had been looking? Just as I was about to turn away, was it coincidence or did Peter slightly adjust his shorts, seeming to make his crotch look even more prominent?

Julia chose that moment to haul herself out of the pool and slump face down on her sunbed. "Oh god woman, get a grip on yourself" I muttered, promising myself that later on I'd give my little vibrating friend in my bedside cabinet a bloody good workout. To distract myself I reached for the jug of sangria on the table between Bryan's and my chairs, only to find that we were down to a pale pink pool of ice water and fruit peel. Glad of an excuse to go indoors for a little while I stood and carried the jug through the conservatory and into the kitchen to make another batch.

Having chopped some more oranges and lemons I was just rinsing my hands at the sink when I sensed rather than heard the kitchen door being quietly closed. A moment later I heard Peter ask, in a soft voice, "How are you doing Mrs Howard?"

After my ridiculously embarrassing behaviour a few minutes earlier I felt my face beginning to colour again. Without turning to look at him I replied "I'm fine Peter, just caught the sun a bit I think. I'll be out again in a couple of minutes."

I actually felt the heat radiating from his skin as he stepped to within a few inches of me. Half-whispering he murmured "You know, you look fucking sexy in that bikini bra."

"Peter!" I squeaked. My mind was in panic. Trying to inject some calm authority into my voice, but still not trusting myself to turn to face him, I said "That's really not an appropriate thing to say to me."

I gasped and shuddered as he traced a single finger across my back, just below my bra strap. "But Mary, you gave me such a hard-on staring at my cock like that."

Cursing the tremble in my voice I said "Don't be silly young man. I think you've had too much sangria." I know I had. His response was to take a pace forward, his heat burning me, his all too evident erection brushing my buttocks. I realised I had to gain control of the situation; I tensed to step away but then I felt his fingers deftly unclip my bra strap. Before I could react he slid his hands across my skin inside the slack garment, cupping my generous boobs and pulling me back onto him. Trying hard to keep a grip on the last shreds of my rationality I groaned "This is too much. Peter, I used to bath you when you were a baby."

His lips now brushing my ear, he rasped "And I've wanked off over you for as long as I can remember".

As he sucked on my earlobe, his hands kneading my boobs, his fingers rolling my long stiff nipples, I felt the last shreds of my resistance ebb away. Wheedling now, I begged "Please, don't do this, we can't, Bryan and Jules are just out there."

He chuckled and murmured "That's okay, I've locked the door". One hand dropped to my waistband, crept inside. Fingers twirled through my untrimmed pubes then found my seeping pussy. As Peter stroked my eager clit I felt as if all the breath had been driven from my body. Shamefully, shamelessly, I pushed my meaty bum back onto his rigid cock inside his shorts. Still twiddling my clit, his other hand left my tit and pulled the drawstring on my slacks, unknotting it. As they slid down my legs and pooled around my ankles, utterly wantonly, I reached behind me with one hand and undid his shorts. A moment later I felt his red-hot cock, stiff as a tent pole, brush against my pants. Entirely abandoned to my young lover, I eased them down over my thighs, and moaned encouragement as with a bare foot he pushed them the rest of the way down. At that moment my husband, my daughter, the whole world could have burst in and I couldn't have cared a shit.

I gripped the edge of the sink and, pressing back against Peter, eased my legs apart. I expected him to fuck my pussy, and I squeaked in surprise as instead he squirmed his prick between my bum cheeks then pushed inside me. Bryan had never taken me there and for a moment I was shocked, but as he rhythmically screwed my arse, his fingers sloshing around in my pussy and flicking my clit, my entire body started to feel so hot I felt I would explode. I pushed back to meet his deep strokes, gasping with each thrust. He sped up for the last two or three, then I felt his juice explode into me. I was only a second or two behind him, clamping my teeth on my hand to stop myself screaming as the universe exploded in my head and my cunt clamped around his busy fingers. At that moment, bizarrely, I swear I heard through the open window a huge cheer erupt from the radio outside.

Panting, I slumped forward across the sink. I felt Peter's sticky hand stroke my ear and my cheek, and he stayed buried inside me for a few seconds, his other hand slowly twirling in my pubes. Turning my head, I sucked two of his fingers into my mouth, tasting myself on his skin. As he withdrew, he murmured, "You're the only one, apart from Jules." Bryan had been my only lover to that point too, and I could never remember feeling as sexually sated with him as I did at that moment.

Peter dressed quickly as I lounged back languidly against the sink, carelessly exposed to him, gazing at his beautiful body. His eyes settling on my mons, he said, "I wonder whether you enjoy being eaten out as much as Jules does." Despite what we'd just done I felt my face turn as red as a beetroot. He chuckled at that and, with a wink, said, "Well, while she's off in Oxford we might as well keep it in the family." As he returned to the garden his parting words to me were "I'm looking forward to the next time you bath me."

I quickly cleaned myself up with kitchen towel then redressed and finished making the sangria. On shaking legs I followed Peter outside, hoping I wouldn't somehow betray myself to my family. As I emerged an excited Tracy Austin warbled from the radio "What a climax - this is a day she'll never forget, and surely there are more to come!" My husband and daughter stared at me as at a lunatic as I burst into helpless, hysterical laughter.