Swim Team Exhibitionist Coach Ch. 03

[Note : All participants in this fictionalized account are at least 18 years old]

When we arrived at Suzanne's home, I was suitably impressed. It was set back from the road in a well-to-do neighborhood with a circular driveway leading to the front door. It was flanked to either side by large picture windows, the drapes wide open. That seemed a bit unusual as it was starting to get dark, dusk having settled in by now.

Suzanne directed me to park on a large apron to the side of the three car garage. One of the doors was open and a convertible Jag was visible. As we approached the front door and more of the interior became visible, I could see the profile of a Beamer as well. The Z__'s were obviously not hurting. The front door opened as we stepped up onto the front porch and Suzanne's mother was there to greet us.

I hadn't bothered to change from my gym shorts after practice and had only changed my shirt. I would have considered dressing up a bit if I had known the sight that would be here to greet me -- it left me breathless!

She was a beautiful woman, (in her early 40's as I found out), but could have passed for Suzanne's older sister. What seemed incredibly bold (and hot!) to me, was that she was wearing a beige, full length silk gown that both hugged and revealed her features in the most alluring of ways. It was split up both sides by lace bordered panels -- all the way up the outside of hips past the pelvis. It was apparent that she was completely nude underneath as the sitting room light illuminating her from behind left little to the imagination. The garter belt, flesh toned stockings and high heel were the perfect compliment to her elegant attire.

Her muscular thighs and calves and obviously firm breasts made it clear where Suzanne inherited her own womanly figure from. Mrs. Z___ didn't have the tone that her daughter had from her years of training, but there was little to criticize in her physique. A milf right out of the pages of Penthouse!

I put my hand out as Suzanne introduced us. As she grasped my hand in a firm grip, Mrs. Z___ leaned in and her perky nipples were evident through the lacy bodice. I could feel them pressing into my chest as she tilted her head up and kissed my cheeks three times, alternating between left and right. The third was a prolonged one (at least three seconds) and I was a bit dumbfounded. I had never been greeted in such a manner and I found it incredibly erotic. Was that her intent? Even Suzanne seemed a bit befuddled, judging by the expression on her face.

As this charming creature gracefully turned and led us toward the sitting room, I was mesmerized by her elegance and the flirty way that she was twerking her muscular cheeks as we followed her. Twerking was not easy to do while walking, particularly while in heels. It had to be deliberate on her part and it was incredibly sensuous. The silk covering her glutes flowed with the deliberate undulating contractions and I was developing an erection - it was impossible to ignore Mrs. Z___'s perfect derriere.

Suzanne excused herself and headed up the elegant stairway to the second floor leaving us alone while her mother and I entered the sitting room. I guessed this was it -- her opportunity to discuss with me whatever it was that was on her mind with Suzanne out of the picture for the moment. She led me over to a well-stocked bar in the corner and offered me a drink. I was nervous and not sure where this was going. She could sense that and told me to relax as she placed her hand on my forearm. The effect was electric and my erection surged with new vigor, threatening to escape the cuff of my gym shorts.

As she poured us our drinks, I was admiring the way her gown accentuated her curves. There was just enough nudity and coverage to make for an incredibly sexy image. My height gave me a clear view down her exposed cleavage and she made no effort to prevent me from doing so. As she handed me my drink, she gestured to a comfortable chair for me to sit in, opposite the sofa that she was headed to. She then proceeded to drape herself on the sofa, twisting to the side and lifting her legs as she made herself comfortable. It didn't appear contrived as she bent her knee provocatively, a generous view of her thigh exposed in profile as the gown fell away to the side. However, the most titillating aspect of all was that she was mirroring the pose of a life-sized portrait directly above her that I had just noticed. A nude portrait of herself on this very sofa!

I was somewhat tongue-tied with this, but she was gracious in her demeanor and was doing her best to make me feel comfortable as we bantered a bit with some small talk. However, she was obviously enjoying my self consciousness as my eyes kept drifting up to the erect nipples on the painting, which appeared to project out from the canvas, directly at me. The artist was obviously a talented one as the likeness was uncanny. The portrait projected a free-spirited image, one that exuded a sexiness and self confidence that could not and would not be ignored.

As we talked, she made subtle adjustments to her pose, revealing just a bit more with each shift in her position. She appeared well practiced at how to play this for all that it was worth, the revealing lacy bodice gradually exposing more and more of her cleavage as we continued our light-hearted conversation. Her obviously erect nipples were evident and it wasn't the least bit cold in here. I only hoped that I would not have to stand up any time soon.

That hope was quickly dashed as Suzanne entered through the open door. I stood up as I had been taught to do when a woman entered the room and Suzanne let out an audible gasp. I had learned a long time ago that using my hands to try and hide an erection was a futile gesture -- one that only drew attention to an already awkward state of affairs. I was rock hard and realized as I stood there that my embarrassing state was on full display for the two of them, but I was determined to play it cool, to try and pretend that there wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

Suzanne had returned to join us dressed exactly as her mother was. A long beige silk gown split high at the sides with a garter belt, stockings and high heels. Mrs. Z___ also stood up as she entered the room and the two of them were side by side, apparently admiring each other. No doubt, this was for my benefit. Mother and daughter made an incredibly sexy pairing, near-identical images of each other. Mrs. Z___ gently touched Suzanne's arm and whispered something in her ear. Suzanne appeared to be a bit reluctant, but nodded her head slightly and then excused herself. Mrs. Z___ and I were alone again.

With a sweep of her arm, she indicated that I should sit back down as I had remained rooted to the spot, my thoughts in a jumble. It was probably a good idea to take a seat as my shorts were tented with my developing Hardon. As I sat down, I adjusted my shorts to allow my glans to peek out of the cuff, pulling my white briefs to the side. As she prepared us another round, she was in profile and the light behind her effectively illuminated her curves and again, emphasized that she was, indeed, naked underneath.

As I stammered out a lame compliment about the two cars I saw in the garage, Mrs. Z___ ("call her Jenny") stated that Mr. Z___ was out of the country on business and would not be returning until the next week. She must have noticed my relaxing at that as a sly smile formed on her lips, her rosy red lipstick oozed both glamour and sophistication. She was a goddess.

As she handed me my new drink and again crossed over to the sofa to sit across from me, a sense of calm settled onto me. I had been nervous about why Suzanne's mother had wanted to meet me, but whatever the reason was, it was apparent that there was nothing to be too concerned about. My vivid imagination had construed a myriad of possibilities, none of which were even close to what had materialized. Had I worried needlessly?

It was like the flood gates opened up on true confessions. An adult version of Truth or Dare. She seemed to have some things she wanted to get off her chest as she opened up to me about Suzanne and some of her own suppressed and forbidden desires. There was a sense of openness that had developed between us in that moment and an electric pulse seemed to float in the air. We both had salacious secrets that we had never shared with others and we were anxious to do so now.

Jenny started by thanking me for not only hiring Suzanne for the job that she knew she was going to love, but for making her feel appreciated. She told me that Suzanne had shared our experiences from the day before - her first day of coaching with me. She related that her daughter had developed an exhibitionist streak recently and that she needed to have someone to look after her - to keep her out of trouble. She went on that she herself had the "bug" as she put it, but that as a stay-at-home housewife, she had developed her own outlets for showing off.

She went on that there was little that could match the exhilaration of being spied on ("peeped") and she was constantly looking for ways to show off, particularly if her captive audience was unaware that she knew that they were watching her. She confessed that just talking about it now was having a profound effect on her -- she seldom had the opportunity to discuss her exhibitionism with anyone, let alone a handsome young kindred spirit.

She went on that she seldom, if ever, pulled the drapes unless Mr. Z___ was at home. His frequent business trips abroad left her with plenty of time on her hands to amuse herself. She knew of at least two neighbors who were peeping on her on a regular basis ...

Suzanne had shared with her my peeping from the previous day after practice and the fact that I had joined her in the shower and that I had cream pied her while masturbating. It had got Jenny's juices flowing to hear the re-telling and she had decided then and there that she wanted to, no had to meet me. Suzanne wasn't sure that it was a great idea, but her mother had insisted and so here we were.

Jenny asked how old I was while volunteering that she was 42. There was a sixteen year difference in our ages and consequently an eight year difference between Suzanne and I. Mr. Z___ was 57 and had lost interest in trying to keep Jenny satisfied, but did appreciate having a trophy wife on his arm for his business interests. Jenny was a master at discreet nip slips or up skirt views for his business associates and clients at social gatherings and he knew that his wife's willingness to do so was a real asset. He just wasn't aware of just how much she loved doing it - showing off. When he was not at home, Jenny had the freedom to do as she pleased with a generous allowance and credit cards to cover her expenses.

She seldom slept with her husband anymore (they had separate bedrooms) and she missed intimate physical contact. The thrill of her exhibitionism was exhilarating, but left her somewhat wanting. When she got her juices flowing, a finger often just didn't cut it. She had a collection of dildos and other "marital aids" that she thoroughly enjoyed using, but she missed the skillful use of a tongue on her clit or rimming her and having her nipples sucked on or nibbled. They were sensitive and breast play often resulted in orgasm. Penetration? Absolutely! She missed being fucked.

Jenny knew exactly what effect such talk would have on my state of arousal. And it did. My erection was rock hard. As the glans hadvpoked itself past my briefs and out of the cuff of my shorts I made no attempt to hide it. I leaned back in the chair and pulled the cuff of my shorts up, adjusting my position to allow me to free the shaft. I closed my eyes and began to slowly stroke myself, using my free hand to alternately tweak my nipple through my shirt. As I listening to Jenny's verbal chronicle while she watched me stroking myself, I allowed my imagination to paint a vivid picture.

Jenny stood, the spaghetti straps holding her gown in place dropping off of her shoulders. The only thing preventing it from dropping to the floor at her feet were her breasts, holding her gown up in defiance of gravity. As she stepped towards me, the gown did in fact drop and puddle around her heels. She approached and stood in from of me, her shaved pussy dripping with her anticipation, framed by her stockings and lacy garter belt. I lifted my butt and slid my shorts and briefs down, letting them drop around my ankles to be kicked aside. I couldn't get my shirt off fast enough!

My erection was in all it's glory, the glistening glans bobbing with my racing pulse. I look up into her eyes as she leaned in, parting her knees to straddle my thighs. I let go of my cock as I reached up with both hands to cradle her magnificent breasts. As I took first one and then the other of her hard but pliable nipples between my lips, she tilted her head back and let out a soft but prolonged sigh which then developed into a moan as I rolled each nipple between my incisors to increase the sensation.

Moments later, she was vigorously massaging the underside of my shaft with her cunt. As she drew herself closer in her straddle, my shaft was riding up and down between her labia, my glans still free. By twerked her butt cheeks, she was able to increase or decrease the tempo and control just how much stimulation her clit was receiving. I knew I would explode at any moment.

As I glanced over Jenny's shoulder, who was thrashing about in the throws of her approaching climax, I saw Suzanne standing in the doorway, watching raptly, her mouth slightly open. It was enough to put me over the top and I exploded in an intense orgasm, my spunk cumming in streams, soaking our torsos in a white, sticky mess. Jenny's own orgasm followed quickly, her juices soaking the seat of the chair. She collapsed into my arms and hung there as we both recovered, our breathing in harmony.

As she slowly disengaged herself and stood up, my cum was a sticky mess on both of us. I used my discarded shirt to wipe up the of it, my semi-erect cock still dripping. As Jenny excused herself and left the room to clean up, Suzanne, looking elegant in her magnificent gown, stepped over and dropped to her knees in front of me. She tentatively took my still sensitive cock and (unbelievably) began licking and gently sucking, anxious to get every last vestige of her mother's and my combined spunk off of my glistening tool. Wow!

When she took my balls between her lips and gently massaged them with her tongue, her mother returned to the room. As she picked up her gown from where it was lying on the floor, I reached down and gently disengaged my testicles from Suzanne's mouth. My cock was again at half mast, and brushed her cheek as I guided Suzanne back up onto her feet. As she stood up, I tugged at the straps on her gown, resulting in it dropping to the floor.

Mother and daughter were now a pair of goddesses before me. Both sans gowns, but still in their garter belts, stockings and heels. My erection continued to harden, but I was in no shape to use it -- I needed some time to recover. But I was willing (more than willing!) to continue with the two of them, I just needed a respite. Jenny told us both that she had turned on the hot tub, suggesting that might be our next little adventure where we could continue to exchange our war stories and fantasies.

I thought it sounded like a great idea and so did Suzanne. I was completely naked of course, my full-mast erection proudly on display. I watched them both as they removed their remaining garments and soon all three of us were naked. Jenny produced three robes (I assumed the one she gave me was Mr. Z___'s) which we donned. Jenny and I grabbed our drinks from the sitting room and the three of us headed out onto the back deck.

to be continued ...