Stroke of Luck

NOTE: Another new story! I wanted to try something new, rather than continuing an old saga, and I've had this idea for a while. Let me know if you want this to become a series, or if I should go back to another series, or come up with something brand new entirely! Enjoy!

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As drunk classmates laughed and cheered and gossiped, throwing back beers and mixed drinks alike, Adam leaned against the wall, watching the commotion before him. It was the last party of his high school career, or, more specifically, the first party of his college career. He was 18, and had graduated from high school in June. Now, as the summer winded to an end, college loomed on the horizon. The still summer air hung heavy in the packed house, full of other recent graduates, playing beer pong and chatting about which frats and sororities to rush.

Adam barely fit in with these people, and only came because the other option was to stay home for a game night with his parents and elderly neighbors; in his young adulthood, anything sounded better than a night in with old people.

On the other side of the room from him stood Jackie, the hostess, holding a red solo cup filled halfway with something fruity. She was talking with two other classmates, flirting with one of the baseball players who now had a scholarship somewhere. Adam was by no real means friends with Jackie, but he'd had classes with her since elementary school, and most of their class was invited to this party, so his invitation was likely a formality. She was the first kid Adam had met who had divorced parents, and he could still remember going home in first grade and asking his mom what that new word meant. He'd learned that it meant Jackie's mom had moved away, while her dad remarried.

Now that they were high school graduates, a lot had changed. Jackie had become a cheerleader, and Adam caught himself admiring her body while thinking about the uniforms. Her small frame wasn't particularly voluptuous, but her v-neck t-shirt showed off decent push-up bra cleavage, which bounced as she forced a laugh at whatever joke the baseball player just delivered. He could tell that between her natural charisma and her tight body, she'd be the desire of many a grabby frat boy.

He was snapped out of his ogling when he felt a cold jolt across his lap. Snapping back to focus, Adam saw the young woman in front of him, a classmate named Brenda, holding an empty cup, the contents of which were now staining his jeans.

"Oh, sorry," she half-apologized, looking beyond drunk. She giggled to her friend, who was clearly supporting her weight on her arm.

"Jesus Christ, Brenda," Adam looked at the bright red stain setting across his lap. "How much grenadine was in that thing?"

"Whoops!" She laughed again before stumbling past, her friend barely keeping up. Adam was at a loss for words, failing to say anything before the two girls turned the corner into the kitchen, out of sight.

"Great," Adam mumbled to himself, feeling the wetness of the mixed drink seeping through his clothing. He figured he had to treat this stain, and fast, if he wanted any hope of getting it out in the wash he'd now have to be doing later tonight. Thinking back, he remembered a post he'd seen online about how hydrogen peroxide was supposed to be really good for getting out stains. I don't have any better ideas, he thought with an internal shrug.

Trying his best to casually cover the massive stain on his pants, Adam made his way from the living room, down the hall, towards the bathroom. His family kept their peroxide in the bathroom, so he figured that'd be the best place to check. He was met with a closed door, and since he could see light coming out beneath, he knocked.

"Occupied!" A guy's voice called out, then Adam could hear a girl giggle softly. He rolled his eyes and walked away, only able to imagine what could be going on in there.

Is it weird if I check upstairs? Adam wondered. They've got to have peroxide somewhere in this house, right? Without hesitation, more concerned about his pants than manners, the young man walked through the living room again, this time making a beeline for the staircase against the wall he'd been leaning on earlier. As he walked up the stairs, the noise from the loud party began to fade, until it was just a loud murmur below him.

At the top of the staircase, Adam looked down the hall in front of him. On the left were two closed doors, which he surmised were likely bedrooms, one of which was probably Jackie's. On the left, an open door revealed the upstairs bathroom.

Stepping into the beach-themed restroom, Adam immediately checked under the sink. Pushing past a stack of toilet paper, some cleaning products, and an extra tube of toothpaste, Adam found no hydrogen peroxide. Next, he checked the medicine cabinet, which only held a toothbrush, a near-empty tube of toothpaste, and an assortment of facial products that he assumed Jackie must use daily to keep her skin so healthy; unfortunately, once again, no hydrogen peroxide in sight.

Spinning around in the relatively-barren bathroom, Adam couldn't see anywhere else for the product to be hidden. Dejectedly, he exited into the hallway, realizing that he'd probably missed his window to treat the stain at this point, and the grenadine was there to stay. With a forfeiting sigh, he glanced to his side, his eye catching on the closed door at the end of the hall.

That's got to be her parents' room, right? He thought, an idea beginning to form. Master bedrooms always have bathrooms... He felt bad, knowing it was an invasion of privacy. However, one look down at his stained lap was enough to push that thought out of his mind. With tepid steps, Adam approached the door, stopping just in front of it to knock softly. The only reason Jackie was able to have this party was because her parents were gone for the night, and Adam knew that, but he still wanted to make sure he wasn't barging in on someone. After waiting a moment and hearing no reply, he opened the door, peering into the empty room before slipping inside and tossing a look down the empty hallway before closing the door behind him.

The noise of the party was now nothing more than a soft hum emanating from below as Adam looked around the master bedroom before him. To his right was a king-sized bed with night stands on either side. Next to one was a wicker laundry basket, and next to the other was a small armchair. A bookshelf was on the wall adjacent to the armchair, and opposite the bed was a mounted television set. Everything was wood, looking expensive and old-fashioned, and the armchair was a worn leather. The TV was the fanciest looking thing in the room.

To his left, a doorway led to a walk-in closet, and another to a small room with a shower and a toilet. However, Adam was most focused on the two sinks, with cabinets and medicine cabinets below and above, respectively. He walked over to the sinks, dropping to his knees before searching through the cabinets. Among a basket of cleaning products, he spied a relatively large brown bottle. Finally, He sighed in relief, pulling out the hydrogen peroxide.

Rising to his feet, Adam placed the container on the counter and looked at his reflection. His white shirt was miraculously fine, but his jeans were practically glowing red on his crotch, and smelled strongly of vodka. After kicking off his sneakers, Adam unbuttoned his pants, zipping his zipper down as he slid his pants down his thighs, stopping only when he noticed that the grenadine had soaked through, also getting on his boxers, coloring part of the blue undergarments a deep purple.

Well that's just fucking great, he rolled his eyes, still upset with Brenda. With another resigned sigh, he dropped his boxers with his pants, stepping out of them before picking both pieces of clothing off the floor. He tossed both into the sink, situating them so the stained areas were on top, before opening the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and pouring a comedic amount of liquid over the bottoms. He hesitantly scrubbed at the stain on his pants with his fingers, and, seeing no results, shrugged.

Maybe you have to give it time? He wondered. He had only recently started doing his own laundry, and was basing all of this peroxide business off of one post he'd seen online, so he was really just hoping he hadn't just ruined his pants.

Well, he stepped back from the sink, glancing at his half-naked form, I can't exactly go back to the party like this while I wait. Looking at the bedroom behind him, he decided to check out the TV, figuring he could watch something mindless while he waited for the peroxide to make some magic happen.

Unfortunately, just like the peroxide, Adam couldn't seem to locate the remote. Come on, is everything in this house hidden? It wasn't on the shelf below the TV, with the cable box. His next best bet were the nightstands, where, starting with on the left, he was quickly disappointed by not finding it in the drawer. Oh, for fuck's sake, he scoffed. Shutting the drawer, he checked behind the alarm clock atop the nightstand, and then moved a small pile of books to see if they had somehow been obfuscating a remote. Instead, in his annoyed state, Adam knocked over the books, sending one tumbling off the nightstand, landing with a soft pat.

Rather than landing on the floor, the book had fallen into the wicker laundry basket to his left. Trying to make sure everything was put back correctly so no one ever knew he was in here, Adam reached in and grabbed the book out from the pile of clothes, his breath catching in his throat as he noticed he'd accidentally grabbed a piece of laundry while picking up the book.

As he dropped the book back on the nightstand, Adam stared at the lavender colored panties in his hand. He felt the soft cotton material, rubbing it between his fingers. In an instant, he felt his cock spring to life in the open air, not restricted by any clothing. He felt an ounce of shame, but he knew that as a hormonal young man, just barely an adult, he couldn't be blamed for getting so aroused at something so simple.

Well, he clutched the soft garment in his hand, I guess I've got time to kill, and I still can't find that stupid remote. Standing by the side of the bed, he felt his cock growing. He looked down at his package; he was a thick 6.5", nothing record-setting, but he'd never been ashamed of it. The pink head throbbed as he delicately wrapped the panties around his shaft, letting go of a soft groan as he began to pump softly with a loose fist.

The cotton was comfortable and textured against his smooth skin. He felt his body shudder slightly as a pearl of precum beaded at the tip of his cock, and Adam was careful to wipe it off with the edge of his shirt, making sure he wasn't leaving any evidence on the underwear.

As he jacked off, Adam's mind drifted, imagining his usual fantasies. Though he'd never admit it, he had a bit of a thing for older women, and he'd usually fill his mind with thoughts of mature MILFs as he pleasured himself. As he stroked, he thought about the mother of a friend of a friend; her name was Lynn, and though he'd only seen her in passing at two block parties, her body was mature enough to help him reach climax more than once. He then thought about the woman who worked at Jupiter's, the store in town. He didn't know her name, but she had a plump ass, and that was enough to get Adam stroking just a bit faster.

Then, his mind drifted where it almost always did: his now-former English teacher, Mrs. Cooper. Before graduation, he'd made sure to get as many mental pictures of her as possible so he'd never forget her after leaving high school. She had his ideal body, soft, curvy, and exceptionally bouncy. Once, on a field trip, she'd backed into him while they filed onto the school bus, and his cock sprang to life against her plush, round ass. He was pretty sure he'd seen her blush afterwards, and that memory alone did more for him than any porn ever had. It was working right now, as Adam imagined the cotton fabric of the panties wrapped around his throbbing cock to be his old teacher's. He was in such bliss as he imagined the mature teacher that he didn't even hear the door open or close.

"What the hell?!"

Adam's eyes snapped open and his hand froze, causing his body to involuntarily thrust forward at the sudden stopped stroke. Standing ten feet from him was a middle-aged woman who Adam didn't recognize. Her blonde hair was up in a bun, and her pink lipstick practically gleamed in the low light. She was wearing a striped blouse tucked into a short pencil skirt that ended just above her knees. Her legs seemed to go on for days, and her professional black high heels just barely sank into the beige carpeting underfoot. Her arms were crossed, and a hint of cleavage peaked out from her blouse.

"Who the hell are you?" She exclaimed, forcing herself to make eye contact.

"I'm, uh, Adam, I'm Jackie's friend— are you her—" He stumbled.

"Stepmom. Karen. This is my bedroom," her voice was terse. "Those are my panties." Adam gasped as he realized he was still holding her panties around his cock, still rock hard in his fist.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" He apologized, trying his best to push down his unrelenting member. "I was just trying to kill some time, a-and, I was looking for the remote, and the books—"

"Sit down." Karen cut off the flustered young man, gesturing to the edge of the bed before her. Adam silently looked at his pants in the sink, but the woman was standing in his path, and he was too embarrassed to try and walk past her in his current state. He looked back at her. "Well?"

"Sorry," he apologized again, awkwardly walking over to the edge of the bed, his cock straining against the panties balled up in his hands. Karen took two steps forward, positioning herself directly in front of Adam.

"Do you think this is okay?" She asked, her arms still crossed, as she loomed over him.

"Um, no ma'am—"

"Then why are you doing it?" She interrogated.

"I really was just trying to pass the time, and I saw your, uh, underpants,"

"They're panties. Call them panties."

"Sorry, I saw your panties," Adam blushed. "And Jackie said that her dad and mom—"

"I'm her stepmom."

"She said that her parents were gone for the night, and I just saw them in the hamper..." His voice trailed off.

"You're going to college next month, right?" Karen shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Er, yes." Adam nodded unable to look up and make eye contact.

"You can't be doing this in college. Those girls won't know what to do with you." Her voice was still firm, but Adam could sense the faintest hint of suggestiveness.

"What to do with me?" He asked, looking up for the first time.

"Sit back." She instructed.

"Um, Mrs. Fuller, I—"

"You're in my bedroom, with my panties around your cock, you're going to do what I tell you." With that explanation, Karen reached down and pushed the young man, who leaned back on his elbows. For the first time since walking in, she got an eyeful of his package, on full display now, rock hard, bobbing in his lap, yesterday's panties draped across them.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, feeling her stare at him.

"Don't apologize," she instructed again. "It's good you're getting this out now. We just have to make sure to really get it all out now." What am I saying? Karen screamed in her mind. This wasn't like her, she wasn't some MILF from porn that was mindlessly craving young cock. I'm happily married, she thought of her husband, Ron, the man she loved, who'd grown so distant recently. He'd been staying late at the college he taught at, and it had made an impact in their sex life. She wondered what student could need so much attention after school to make him so consistently late. But it's not like I'm looking to have an affair... she almost felt guilty, but she rationalized, this wasn't an affair. This was just some young man, a friend of her step-daughter's, in her bedroom, touching himself with her panties. She was doing him a favor by helping him get it out of his system. And if that gets it out of my system as well... she reasoned. That's just a happy coincidence.

With that concern put to bed, Karen admired the cock in front of her. It didn't have the length her husband had, but it was thick, and she was still impressed. Below the rosy shaft sat two heavy balls, and she couldn't help but imagine how full of cum they must have been. With a tentative hand, she reached out, her hand stopping just an inch from Adam's cock.

"So, you like my panties, huh?" Her voice was smooth, her eyes not lifting from the cock.

"Um, yes." He wasn't sure if this was a trap of some sort.

"How about something a little nicer?" Still standing over him, Karen reached down, snaking a hand up her short skirt. After a moment, Adam watched, afraid to blink, as the mature woman in front of him slipped a pair of bright red panties down her breathtaking legs. They landed silently at her feet, and as she stepped out of them, they caught around one of her high heels, an image that the young man was sure to remember forever.

Dropping to her knees, she parted his legs, situating herself between his knees. She delicately pulled at the cotton panties, careful not to touch the cock beneath them, tugging them off and tossing them to the wayside. As Karen lifted up today's panties, Adam watched as she draped the crimson garment over his hard cock, unable to hold back a groan at the sensation.

While maintaining eye contact, Karen wrapped her hand around his cock, getting a handful of her own panties, before beginning to stroke. Adam couldn't stop himself from groaning again. The cotton panties were nice, but they were nothing compared to these satin panties, which engulfed his cock, smooth, silky, and almost cold.

Karen's rhythmic strokes were full and long, from base to tip. She'd broken eye contact, now focused on the thick cock in her hand. As she pumped up and down, she enjoyed the feeling of his smooth skin under her silken panties. Her other hand reached out and cradled his balls, rolling them in her manicured fingers, feeling them churn as she alternated between faster and slower strokes. This combination made Adam throw his head back in ecstasy, moaning loudly, though not nearly loudly enough to disturb the party still raging downstairs.

Feeling the young cock throb in her hand, Karen thought about what her husband liked. With one hand still stroking his shaft, she let go of his balls, instead reaching for his sensitive cockhead. Using the satin fabric of her panties, she briefly teased his tip as he gripped the bed sheet with tight fists before dropping his cock.

"Is something wrong?" He stammered, wondering why she'd let go of him, nervous he'd done something to upset her.

"No, not at all, I just wanted to give you a little... Encouragement." His cock fat in his lap, her panties still wrapped around it, he watched as her fingers made their way to her blouse. With a wicked smirk across her seductive lips, Karen unbuttoned her blouse, revealing more and more cleavage with each undoing, until Adam could see her bra, then her stomach, before she completely shrugged off the blouse, dropping it to the floor behind her.

Adam's jaw dropped as he ogled his friend's stepmom. Her breasts were larger than any girl's his age, and any mom's he'd admired. They were even larger than Mrs. Cooper's, the teacher who'd starred in so many of his fantasies before. Those fantasies would have to be updated, now that he'd seen Karen's breasts, practically spilling out of her red bra, which Adam now realized matched the panties around his cock. Karen shrugged again, pushing her breasts together, making her pillow-like cleavage cavernous.