Surrogate Sons Or ??

Jack was a young black guy who Sara had dated for a year or so but had recently given him up.

"Hello Jack."

"Hi Jayne."

He looked terrible and I guessed that he had been crying. I felt sorry for him and did nothing to stop him putting his hand on my hip and pecking me on the cheek as had become our custom. As his face neared mine I could smell drink on him, something I had never done before; in fact, I had never seen him touch a drop. He was a professional soccer player just on the verge of getting into the first team of a Premier League in Birmingham where he lived most of the time. That's in the Midlands and is some 120 miles from where Sara lives with me.

After he kissed my cheek he didn't move away nor did he remove his hand from my hip.

"You know she dumped me?" he murmured as I involuntarily put my hand on his shoulder.

"Yes Jack, Sara told me."

"It was right out of the blue, I had no idea."

"It happens."

"Not to me it doesn't. Well hasn't before."

"There's a first time for everything" I said as I felt his arm slip from my hip and go around my waist a little way.

It was an awkward situation. I felt very sorry for him for over the year or so he and Sara had been seeing each other I had got to like him as a person. Also, recently I had had some lurid thoughts about him. My feelings towards him were confused and garbled. He was, well had been until earlier today, my daughter's boy-friend. Even had I have been attracted to him I could never have let anything happen and I quite resented him for the covert advances I felt he'd been making towards me; he should have shown more respect to Sara. On the other hand, I wasn't totally sure that they were real advances. He was a bit of a joker, he had a quick wit and a good way with words and he was always sending me up in an affectionate sort of way. But recently he had been more flirty and overt than previously including cuddling and kissing me on the mouth at a party. Even after him doing that I wasn't sure that he was, as it were, after me as I believed that he and Sara were really in love.

Now though with his face just inches from mine, our bodies almost touching and his arm partially round my waist he was implying other meanings and desires. But there still was a get out of gaol element for him and a doubt for me. He was upset and maybe slightly drunk. Did he really mean anything by holding me like that and leaving his face resting against mine? And did I metaphorically or otherwise owe him a shoulder to cry on?

And then I got my answers.

He moved his face away and looked right into my eyes. He smiled and said quietly.

"Yes Jayne even a first time for this."

He pulled me to him. "Jack stop," I said sharply as his chest squashed against my breasts and his stomach pressed against mine.

"What would the lovely Mrs West say if I kissed her?"

I didn't say anything, but I turned my face away as his came towards mine so he missed my lips.

"I think we should stop right now," I said as my mind and body fought the conflict.

Physically Jack really is beautiful. Just over six feet and having been on the books of a professional football club since he was ten he has the body of a trained athlete and the looks of a film star.

Every cell in my brain said I should stop him, but to my increasing horror every sinew in my entire body was saying quite the opposite. Both parts of my being recalled the brief kiss we'd had a couple of weeks ago, the touches on my feet under the table and on my knee in the car. All the lingering stares, especially round the pool at the holiday I had taken them both on in the South of France when my tits were hanging out of the too small bikini, the double entrendres and, of course, the vision of his toned body wrapped in a towel or wearing a shirt open down the front flashed through my mind. It had been a relief to me to have a different vision to my son to lust over thinking what a shame it was my daughter's boyfriend!

"Something tells me," he went on. "That you don't completely mean that."

"I do Jack please stop," I told him as coolly as I could muster although I was on fire inside.

"She's not my girlfriend anymore," he said quietly applying more pressure with his hand in the small of my back pulling me tighter against him.

My boobs in the ugly, but necessary when you have big tits, black sports bra were being flattened. His body was so firm and muscular. He pushed himself forward and pressed the lower half against me. 'Oh shit' I groaned to myself when I felt the length of his erection pressing into my lycra covered stomach in the tight yoga pants.

"That was your problem last time wasn't it?" He asked referring to the incident when he had tried to kiss me.

"Yes."

"Well," he went on writhing his torso against. "That problem has gone away."

He went to kiss me, but again I turned my face away.

"Jack please this is ridiculous," I groaned not meaning one word of it.

"It's not ridiculous Jay. It's what we both want."

"No."

"Yes it is."

"It isn't," I croaked trying to wriggle away from him, but doing so in a half-hearted way.

"You know it is. I want it, you know that, you've known it for ages, haven't you?"

"No."

"Yes you have Jay, be honest."

"I may have thought you did at times."

"Well I have ever since the first time I saw you, I adore older women and especially this older one," he went on pulling me tighter to him, burying his head in my hair and kissing my neck above the collar of the open tracky top and white singlet.

"I did guess," I murmured rather pointlessly. "Now let me go Jack and let's have a cup of tea or something."

"No I want to kiss you."

"No you mustn't," I groaned as all my thoughts and desires for being with a young man returned.

"I must it's what we both want. You know I do. You know I want to make love to you."

"Jack no, don't even say it," I groaned my heart pounding and pulses racing at the thought.

"And Jay you want it as well don't you?" He said sliding his hand between us and onto my boob.

'Oh God,' I moaned to myself as the lovely feelings went through my body reducing my will to resist him.

I should have replied, but I didn't. I stayed silent and he took that to mean exactly what it did mean, that my resistance was fading, but I didn't mean to show him that. He squeezed my breast surprisingly lightly, just perfectly in fact.

'He knows what he's doing' I thought as reluctantly I turned my face towards his. I felt terrible. The guilt poured over me. I was so disappointed in myself. Surely by the age of nearly 50 I should be able to fight off such feelings, resist such advances, stop myself from giving in, particularly to a guy of twenty who was well young enough to be my son? But I clearly wasn't for I was looking into his eyes, I wasn't wiggling my breasts away from his hand, I wasn't squirming my stomach away from the erection that was pressing so deliciously into the softness of my tummy and I was no longer turning my face from his. No, I was looking at him, I was holding his gaze and as his mouth closed the gap between us I parted my lips. Then we were kissing. Then our lips were squirming together and his tongue was probing deep into my mouth and then my daughter's recently ex-boyfriend and I were starting to make love.

Almost immediately his hand went inside my singlet and right onto my breast in the sports bra. I was losing it, I knew that, but could do nothing about it. I kissed him back very strongly. I writhed against him and I started giving in to the wondrous feelings surging through me. He thrust his hardness against me the base of his cock pressing right against my clit.

My resistance had pretty much gone. No longer was he in the no go area of being my daughter's boy-friend. No, from that aspect he was fair game. But he was thirty years my junior. Did it matter? After all he's a man and I'm a woman, isn't that all there is in such situations? Is there anything else than ying and yang, on and off, black and white and yes and no? I almost smiled despite his mouth covering mine when I thought that for so long I'd been saying no with both my mind and body yet now I was saying a clear yes with my body and a possible yes with my mind as well and that was a disastrous combination. It all seemed so simple. Just give in and let him fuck me. I wanted it, he did and who would know? Straightforward and natural. Boy wants girl, girl realises she wants boy so they have each other. But the age difference was bugging me.

He pushed my open track top off my shoulders and let it fall to the ground. 'Fuck he's undressing me' I thought. But then I realised I wanted that. I wanted him to take my clothes off, to gradually expose my body so that I could flaunt all my womanly places to him. Yet at the same times I was nervous about that. How would he react to my full, slightly, saggy tits, the 'motherly' swell of my tummy and the excess flesh on my hips and butt? A good looker like him would probably have had a string of young, slim, model-like girls, with 'stick-insect' type bodies. And, of course, he had a gorgeous, smooth athlete's body and from what I had felt pressed into my stomach a large cock that I had noticed when he wore swimming trunks on the holiday! It felt so good and big pressed into me and I wanted that. God how I did; I hadn't had sex for a couple of months. I wanted to feel it, hold it, stroke it and kiss it. As I had in Devon at the B & B and with Rob all reasoning had left me and my entire focus was on sex with a young guy. I had often wondered whether there was a scientific term for having an obsession with young men?

I reached down and found it through his jeans just as he pulled my singlet up above my breasts. He fumbled his hand into my bra as I slid his zip down. He scooped one of my tits from my bra as I slipped my hand inside his jeans that were now open and around his hips. He sucked my nipple into his mouth at exactly the same moment as my hand found his cock. This was becoming very heady stuff indeed. But then my mobile rang.

"Leave it."

"No I can't, it might be Sara."

"Fuck it, you can't stop now."

But I could and I did. It wasn't Sara, but a business call. As I chatted he tried to kiss and touch me, but I moved away and stopped him. It was rather surreal standing talking business on the phone with my bare breasts hanging out of my bra and a twenty- year-old boy with his arm around me and his jeans round his knees.

Rather ridiculously I suppose, I pulled my singlet down modestly covering my boobs. Jack moved away a little and stood right in front of me. He smiled and took his tee shirt off. His wonderful physique made me shudder as I imagined my breasts being squashed against his firm, muscular chest. He raised his eyebrows and mouthed 'Ok?' I nodded. I felt the heat building in me and my heart pounding as casually almost he slid his jeans and underpants off and stood before me rampantly naked. I turned away as it was impossible for me to concentrate on the call with a naked and erect young man in front of me. It was not just that it was Jack who I now recognised I had subconsciously been lusting after for some time, but also that I was as good as fully dressed with a naked man who would soon be my lover. I have always found that and vice versa massive turn ons.

It got worse. He went behind me, his arms came around me and his hands cupped my breasts outside the singlet. I felt his erection hard and hot through the thin, tight, black lycra that was moulded to my bum like a second skin; I didn't wear knickers under them.

"Hurry Jayne I can't wait," he whispered into my ear.

I didn't like to tell him that I couldn't either. At last the call ended and I clicked off. I turned and faced him.

"You bastard," I grinned.

"You liked it though, didn't you?"

There was no need for a reply for I was immediately in his arms and we were kissing again. This time with the reservations and the 'will she won't she' questions gone from the agenda things were a lot easier. I realised that I had now capitulated completely and was primed and ready to have sex with him.

The kiss went on for ages as we writhed our bodies together and our hands visited places on the other's bodies where they hadn't been before; the soccer training does wonders for a man's glutes I found out wondering what thinks of mine as his hands played with the cheeks of my bum inside the yogas?

We broke the kiss and still standing in the lounge his hands confidently went for my breasts. Firstly outside the singlet and bra, then inside the singlet and sliding into the cups of my sports bra. he pulled them out and pinched my achingly hard nipples. I was now totally committed to having sex with him. He was no longer my daughter's boy-friend, no longer a kid and wonderfully no longer off limits. He was a man who wanted me and I wanted him.

I yanked the singlet up and over my head. As he squeezed and rubbed my tits I reached behind me and unclipped the bra. It joined the singlet on the floor.

"Oh my God Mrs W," they are fantastic he groaned seeing my bare breasts for the first time.

"I have got to have you Jay."

"Yes, come on."

Taking him by the hand I led him upstairs. My tits jiggling and wobbling and my arse in the tight lycra swaying and bobbing just in front of his eyes we made it to my bedroom.

"Get on the bed," I ordered pulling the cover off.

He looked fabulous and so sexy lying in the middle of my bed with his cock rearing sensationally right up his flat stomach to his navel telling me that what they say about black guys is true! The smooth, shininess of his black skin created a perfect contrast to the crisp, whiteness of the sheets that I recalled I had changed just that morning making me wonder if that was a premonition? Without taking my eyes off him for one moment I slid the yogas off and naked I walked slowly over to the bed. I climbed on it, lay beside him and welcomed his arms round me. He pulled me to him and I had the fabulous experience of feeling his beautifully thick and fairly long cock pressing into the soft, slight swell of my stomach. I reached down and stroked it.

"Mmmm" he groaned gently biting my nipple.

We kissed and stroked each other as we slowly increased the tempo and intensity of our foreplay. I thought he was ever so good for his age and it wasn't long before he was giving me my first orgasm with his fingers on my clit and up my pussy.

He held me as I shuddered my way through that climax but then croaked.

"I have to fuck you now Jay."

Probably sounding far cooler and relaxed than I was I smiled and rolled from my side onto my back. "Be my guest."

"Do I need a condom."

"No that's fine" I replied, pleased that he'd asked but sure that all was ok for he'd been having sex with Sara for months.

He rolled on top of me put his arms round me and nestled his cock against my landing strip of pubic hair and my stomach. I held him and we kissed. He slid down a little and I parted my legs. We were still kissing passionately and roaming our hands all over the other's body. He felt so good. His body was toned and firm, unlike any I had held for many, many years. I began to understand why women of my age have such a fascination for young men.

He slid forward and the bulbous end of his cock pressed right against my lips.

"Yes Jack," I groaned as with shrug of his slim hips he surged forward and his cock roared inside me.

God did it feel good! It had been so long I had almost forgotten the sensation of a thick cock going up my cunt.

He started to fuck me with long, rhythmic surges deep inside me then almost all the way out. It didn't take long for either of us. Soon he was grunting that he was near and I was telling him to cum for me. Then we exploded and in a series of groans and grunts shudders and convulsions we had a wonderful mutual orgasm.

"Oh Jay that was so good" he started.

"Shush" I told him turning onto my side facing away from him. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to discuss anything with him. I felt guilty and a little ashamed, which I remembered had been the same in Devon and with the car cleaner. We lay there for a while until amazingly no more than twenty minutes or so later he was pressing a full erection against my bum and his hands were cupping and squeezing my tits. He wanted me again. It was then that it hit me that I had not thought of Peter!

"Yes," I grunted as I felt his cock exploring between my legs from behind. He fucked me like that, quick and urgently.

It was longer before the third time when at his request I knelt on all fours and he had me doggy style.

We fucked once more that evening before at my insistence he went home. He wanted to stay and as much as I would have liked going for a record number of fucks in an evening I needed to be alone to think.

I was full of remorse that night and over the next day or so. Jack had to go to Birmingham to his football club so we couldn't see each other, which really was the best thing. I didn't want to see him and talk to him. True I wanted to be fucked by him, but that was it. Sex and chatting are not natural bedfellows I began to see.

We got together a few days later. Before then I must have had getting on for fifty texts and emails from him. I found that hard to cope with, but then I am not part of the digital generation.

He came to the flat again. We had an early dinner and he stayed overnight. I have no idea how many times he made me cum or how many times he fucked me. It didn't matter; the number of times was irrelevant really. The point was that we were able to have sex for hours on end and that he was able to keep me near to the orgasm boiling point for most of that time. A larger point for me, though, was that there was not three people in this relationship and Peter played no part.

This went on for a couple of weeks. We extended our sexual practice to include lengthy and intensive foreplay based largely on oral sex. I let him cum in my mouth and I let him watch me as I swallowed his cum. I masturbated for him with him watching and holding me. I masturbated him and wallowed in him shooting his youthful mass of sperm all over my face and tits.

I thrived on the quantity of sex with him but could not discount the fact that there was a fair degree of quality as well. I felt pleased for Sara that her initiation into grown up sex was with an adept guy like Jack.

I was living my life round Jack. I was arranging my affairs so that I could have him to the flat and spend hours having sex with him. I now fully endorsed the older woman's concept of sex with a younger man. It was wonderful. The fact that when I was with him I had sex on tap was so new, but so fantastic. After three weeks of being regularly 'serviced' by my young buck I was beginning to think I may have fallen for him. Yes, when I was alone and missing him I started to mistake sexual need for affection and maybe even love. Deep down I think I knew it was ridiculous, but when I was naked, in his arms with my full breasts squashed against his muscular chest and his thick, stubby cock deep inside me, it was easy to misplace love with lust.

In many ways the most beneficial aspect of my affair with my daughter's ex was that I forgot about having sex with my Peter and Jack did not become yet another surrogate son!