Tyler's Seduction of Mrs. C

Tyler's Seduction of Mrs C

by The Big Bopper

My name is Lisa and I'm a prime example of modern-day empty nest syndrome whereby the kids leave home to make a start on their own family lives and the husband and wife quickly discover they no longer have all that much in common... or maybe never did, and only bonded over raising a family. My husband of over 30 years reached a decision on his part that we'd be better off living apart, even before the last of our kids have left home.

I have three sons and a daughter and all but my youngest son are off and married now. My youngest boy is now 20 and, quite sensibly, he's not in any rush to settle down. He was almost an after-thought for my husband, Tim, and I, coming along six years after the last of the other three. They were all close together and are now 31, 29 and 26.

Matthew still lives with me in what was the big old family home. He has a job and is making a few new friends through his workplace. I mean, Matt's old friends were all the boys - and some girls - that he went through school with, so I've known all of them for over ten years.

But lately, I've seen a couple of new faces call by to pick him up on the weekend; Matt doesn't have his own car. I have noticed one young man, not merely because he's tall and very handsome, stands around 6'5" (196 centimetres). He's quite well spoken and I suspect better educated than Matty and his buddies. All four of my kids went to the local state school whereas I'm guessing that this young man - I think I heard Matt call him Tyler - may have gone to some hypha luting private school. He looks older than Matt too, I must ask my son what age his new friend is.

I am beginning to make it sound like I am interested in this young man for more than just being my son's new friend. Hardly! I will be 56 next birthday. No, I am just curious how Matt would make friends with someone like that. What does this new young man bring to the table that Matt's old school friends not have? I must ask him when I think of it.

An opportunity arose the following Sunday evening. Matt had been out with Tyler all afternoon and his friend came in with him when he dropped my boy home. He is such a polite young man and he stopped to have a short conversation with me before saying goodnight to both Matt and I and heading off home.

"What is the attraction of Tyler, Matt? He seems so much different from your old school friends."

"That's the thing, mom... that he is different. All my old buddies from school don't seem in any hurry to grow up. They still do stupid things, play practical jokes on each other. I find it embarrassing now when I go out with them. Tyler works at an adjacent workstation to me in my new job. You know, he is almost on a different wavelength, always coming up with interesting things we can do and places we can go. I've never been to most, like museums and art galleries and concerts. But not just arty things though, he suggested we go to a horse race meeting one day soon. He's a lot of fun."

"Umm! That's interesting! How old is he?"

"Why such interest in Tyler, mom?"

"No, I don't have any special interest in the young man, I am just curious as to why you do. But it's all good, you explained it very well. Thank you!"

My son begins to leave the room, but pauses at the door to say, "He's 24, mom."

"Oh, a fair bit older than you then."

Later in the evening, my son mentions his new buddy again, "Mom, when we were talking about Tyler earlier, I forgot to ask you if he could stay over next Saturday night. We have booked tickets for a concert that we don't expect will finish until close to midnight. Tyler lives across the other side of town, it's about an hour drive and we are both competing in a charity fun run on Sunday morning, so he doesn't want to do the long drive twice in a few hours."

"That makes sense, Matty. Yes, no problem at all. We have enough spare bedrooms these days with your brothers and sister gone. I was only thinking how the house is too big for us now. I am sure if your father was still around, we'd have downsized into an apartment by now."

"You still sound bitter about dad taking off, mom?"

"Yes, I probably am, we went through a lot together, I mean raising you four kids, creating a family. So, to bail out at our age... well, it seems like a cop out to me. I heard from one of our old friends the other day that he now drives a bright red convertible and has a younger blonde bimbo in tow."

By Saturday afternoon, I am beginning to regret having agreed to Tyler staying this weekend. I have nothing against the young man, and he has only ever been most polite when he's called in to pick up Matt. I guess it is more the nuisance value of having to make up a bed in one of the spare bedrooms and do the extra washing after the weekend. Boy, I'm sounding lazy? I'm not really... I am just set in my ways now with only ever having Matt and I in the house.

Tyler comes by around seven on Saturday evening to pick up Matt for the concert. He is carrying only a small overnight bag, "Hi, Mrs. Collins, I thought I'd put my bag in my room, don't want to be disturbing you when we get in. Could be around midnight."

"Oh, you won't disturb me, Tyler, I never go to bed until after midnight. I've always been a bit of a night owl. Come on, I'll show you to your room. I think Matt's close to being ready."

I lead our young house guest down the hall and into the third bedroom that was previously occupied by my other two sons before they went off and got married. "Two beds in here but I've only made up the one by the window."

Tyler drops his bag onto the bed nearest the window, "Thanks Mrs. Collins for letting me stay. It's such a long drive home and we have to be up early for the start of the fun run."

"You travel light, guys usually do. We women pack several changes of clothing, even if we are only staying one night."

"I only brought my running gear in the bag, and a tracksuit to put on after. I don't bother with pyjamas, I always sleep buck naked, I find clothing too constrictive to sleep in."

"I hope you don't sleepwalk then." After Tyler and Matt go off to the concert, I think back that it was a silly thing to say. It was simply a flippant throwaway remark, the first thing that came to me as I actually had a vision in my head of this handsome young man sleeping naked in my house tonight. The first time I've been conscious of Matt's new buddy in a sexual connotation.

If the truth be known, I did actually consider that Tyler might be gay. I've never had any such suspicions about Matthew, but it was just the fact that he and Tyler go out together every weekend and they don't seem to be having any interplay with young women. At least not that they've said.

As I now do most nights, being a single woman again, I sit up reading and watching TV until very late. About 11.30, I hear the sound of a car outside, then Matt's key in the front door. Both the young men come into the living room, where I am curled up at one end of the sofa watching TV, my legs tucked under me. I'm dressed for bed, wearing a light summery nightgown with a dressing gown over it.

"You're all ready for bed then, Mrs Collins?" observes Tyler as Matt merely passes through the living room on his way to the kitchen.

"Want a beer, Tyler," calls back my son over his shoulder.

"Sure, buddy," Tyler replies and turns to me, "How about you, Mrs. C?"

"How about me, what?"

"Matt offered me a beer; would you like one too?"

It seems strange to have a house guest offering me a beer in my own home, "Err, yeah, why not?"

"One for your mom too, Matt," Tyler calls out to my son, who by now is in the kitchen.

Matty brings beers for us all and the boys sit to join me in conversation, my son plonking himself down in a chair opposite while Tyler sits at the other end of the sofa on which I am curled up. I ask about the concert, and they talk animatedly about how good it was.

I find it a bit disconcerting when I notice Tyler's eyes regularly appearing to check out my chest while we talk. Seeing his eyes drop toward my breasts rather than look me in the eyes has me feeling self-conscious. My boobs might sag a little these days, but I consider I still have an impressive pair... 38D's in the old numbers and they look great when I'm wearing a good bra. The nightie I'm wearing beneath my dressing gown does have quite a low scooped neckline. I begin to wonder if perhaps more of my boobs are on display than a 55-year-old woman should reveal to a 24-year-old male buddy of her son? I'd like to take a quick peep down to check if I look respectable, to work out to what his eyes are being drawn to, but I don't want him to know I am perturbed by it.

The two young men don't seem all that interested in the movie I've been watching so they talk through most of the remaining twenty minutes. As the movie finishes, Matt jumps up out of his chair, "Ok, I'm done, I'm off to bed. Tyler and I have got to be out of here by seven in the morning, mom, so I won't see you until tomorrow night. Goodnight, mom, have a good day tomorrow," my son tells me as he passes the sofa, leaning down to give me a quick kiss on the lips... as he has done for as long as I can remember.

I turn to look at Tyler, expecting him to go to bed too, but he makes no such move. A new program starts on the TV. A warning comes on the screen that 'This movie is rated MA and is suitable only for 16 years and over, it contains strong sex scenes.' I contemplate going to bed myself; I feel uneasy to sit alongside a young 24-year-old man I barely know watching a movie with strong sex scenes. For all I know, Tyler could be a potential rapist who could be triggered by watching strong sex scenes.

But before I can declare that I'm going to bed, Tyler starts a new conversation. As I am beginning to learn, he is a smart, intelligent young man and has an easy style in discussing all manner of things. There is no awkward lull as we converse, and he constantly introduces new topics. We touch on politics, and it becomes obvious that we are on the same page politically. Then, a little discussion on culture and some history before he begins talking about his family life. He tells me his mom died a few years ago after a cancer battle and he now lives with his dad... just the two of them. He says how much he misses his mom, even now that he is an adult.

Paying less and less attention to the TV, I swivel my body around at my end of the sofa, releasing my two legs that I was virtually sitting on. I feel it is more polite to be facing him now that we are talking one-on-one. He continues to tell me about his family and growing up. It is interesting, and I become quite involved, but he suddenly catches me off guard, reaching out a hand to grab one of my legs, pulling it toward him.

"What... what are you doing, Tyler?" my voice sounding panicky.

"Relax, Mrs C, I'm just going to give you a foot massage. I did a course, you know, on all aspects of massaging."

It seems inappropriate to me for any form of touching, and I try to pull my foot back, telling the young man, "Oh, no, I'm good, thanks, Tyler, it's not necessary."

"Foot massages are my speciality, Mrs C. You've got to have one."

He holds that one leg in a firm grip and even as I continue protesting that I don't need a foot massage, Tyler reaches out again, grabbing my other leg. In the movement of both of my legs being pulled along the sofa, my gown parts a bit below the waist and I scramble to get my hands down to bring the loosened side back over me. For a brief moment, he may have got a glimpse of my pastel blue short nightie beneath, possibly even a flash of bare thighs before I am able to cover up again.

"Nice colour, Mrs. C, blue suits you, matches your eyes."

"Err... I don't think..." my voice sort of trails off because I don't quite know how to verbalise what I don't think. What is this young man - 31 years younger than me - doing, is he coming onto me, in my house, with one of my sons in a bedroom just down the hall?

His fingers quickly begin the foot massage and immediately, I assess his technique is good. From the outset, his fingers are kneading the undersides of each foot, and it feels great. I try to relax, attempting to tell myself, what's the harm?

In pulling my legs toward him, my whole body has slumped down so that I am now half supine, and my body takes up more than half the sofa. I feel my heels are now resting on his thighs as his hands work my feet over. An unexpected lull appears in our conversation, and I see Tyler staring intently at the TV in silence.

I turn my head to check out what has caught his attention. As luck would have it, at that very moment, an intensely erotic sex scene is developing in the movie we are barely watching. A couple are graphically fucking on, of all places, a sofa.

"Wow!" this young man says while still massaging my feet, "Do you see that, Mrs C, now that is hot!"

I am old enough and old-fashioned enough to feel deeply embarrassed to see such an erotic sexual scene with this young man who I barely know. Not just to be in his presence while this scene is on my TV, but to have his hands massaging my feet in what seems to be developing into an equally erotic foot massage. What if Matthew were to return and find his mom and buddy watching such erotic scenes?

I feel one of his hands slide up over one ankle and onto my lower leg, around calf height, very lightly caressing the skin. "Err... no, Tyler, that's not necessary. Just stay on the feet please."

"I've been trained in all forms of massage, Mrs C, just wanting to offer you the benefits of my training."

"Err... yes, that's very thoughtful of you, Tyler, but I don't think so. I mean, I hardly know you and this is all just a bit too intimate for my liking."

"You have to learn to relax, Mrs. C. I bet your shoulders are all knotted, you'd be full of tension. I can help you to relax."

He has been using very firm fingers and thumb to knead the underside of my feet, but he suddenly switches, softly using his fingertips to tickle my foot. My natural reaction to unexpected tickling is to pull that one foot back away from his grasp. I bend my knee so far that the hem of my gown falls back along my thigh. For a long moment, both of my entire legs are completely exposed. I see his eyes; he doesn't miss the chance. How much does he get to see before I can move my hands down there to pull my gown back over my legs? My nightie at best would only just cover my pussy and to my horror, I recall that I couldn't find a clean pair of panties to put on after my bath a few hours ago. Have I actually just flashed my bare pussy at this young man? Oh, how embarrassing!

I straighten the leg that reacted to his tickling and my hands rush to fold the two sides of my gown back over my legs. His eyes are still downcast, looking in the direction of my pussy until I manage to completely re-cover my body.

"Oh, that was nice... really nice, Mrs. C."

What was? Oh my god, how much did he see? It seems to take Tyler a long time to raise his eyes to look into mine. "As you can see, I'm quite ticklish, you took me by surprise."

What more can I say, should I make any reference to being what they now call commando under my nightie? I decide not to make matters worse by mentioning it; after all, I can't be sure he could see as far as my pussy anyway.

"So, Mrs. C, did that hot sex scene in this movie turn you on?"

"No, Tyler, it didn't. Why would you ask something like that?"

"I saw some moisture on your lips."

I immediately bring one hand up to my face, running my fingers over my lips.

"Not those lips, Mrs. C, your other lips."

"You don't mean you could see..." I can't even finish the sentence.

His eyes cast downward again, looking at my recovered legs, "Yes, you get the message, those lips, down there, it all looked quite wet."

"You couldn't see that."

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I couldn't see it, Mrs. C."

"How impertinent of you? Young man, you are out of order, talking to me like this. I've got a good mind to tell you to leave my house... now!"

"I hope you don't, Mrs. C., I am sorry if I've offended you, I was only telling how it appeared. Really though, how long has it been? Matt told me that your husband left you to go live with some much younger chick and that he's been gone for over a year. That's a long time to go without sex. I might only be 24 but I do know how the body needs to keep active, get a workout often. Mrs. C., particularly for such a good-looking woman like you, much too young to give up on sex."

He is right about that, but I resent being told that by a friend of my son. I'm not about to admit it to this presumptuous young man. What are his intentions? Where is he going with this foot massage? He is very good at it; I wonder does he actually want to have sex with me? Why would he? Surely a young man of 24 doesn't need to fuck a 55-year-old woman. Does he have a mother fetish, or does he think he'll be doing me a big favour by fucking me?

I should never have let myself be caught in a situation like this... letting him massage my feet while watching such intense intimacy on TV with him. Has that movie scene turned him on so much that he wants sex with the closest female, even if she's more than thirty years older? Or did he even ask to stay overnight here to set up this scenario? A devious plan to be alone with me? But we're not alone... my son is just a couple of rooms away.

I closed my eyes shut after admonishing Tyler, trying to shut out all thought that he may have caught a flash of my pussy. But now, one of his hands is missing. I can feel only one massaging my feet and there's some fiddling going on in his lap, where my two heels rest on his upper thighs.

Should I open my eyes to see what's happening, feeling human skin against the soles of my feet. What is that? It's not one of his hands. His second hand has returned and now he's rubbing the soles of my feet up against...

Oh my god, surely that's not his cock? Whatever it is, it's hard as... oh my god, what should I do? I open my eyes and stare toward my feet. My suspicion is confirmed, he has taken his erect cock out of his pants and he's rubbing my two feet against the taut stretched skin of a male erection. This is getting way out of hand. I have to put a stop to it... and now.

My immediate reaction is to try to pull my feet away, but his hands grip them tightly. He quickly repositions them, bending my legs so the soles of my feet are either side of his rampant dick and he begins thrusting it upward. His head has dropped back against the back of the sofa and his eyes are closed. This young bastard is using my feet to masturbate against.

"What do you think you're doing, young man? Stop that right now!"

"Oh, feels good, Mrs. C., so good. I can only imagine how good your warm cunt will feel."

"Stop that sort of talk this instant and stop doing that to my feet."

"No, I can't; I only need a bit longer and I'll cum, it's feeling so good."

I manage to bring my upper body into a sitting position, and I strike out with my hand, punching Tyler on his arm. "Stop that now or you can leave this house and not ever come back."

He opens his eyes to look at me for a long moment, like he's deciding his next move. Then, I feel his grip on my ankles relax and I manage to pull my feet out of his lap. "That's better, Tyler, what were you thinking?"

He is suddenly full of remorse... and so he should be, "I am so sorry, Mrs. C, I got carried away there, I lost it. Oh, please forgive me. I should never have taken this out," and he looks down at his upright erection and hits it hard enough with his hand that the solid mass momentarily sways back and forth. I get a good look at it for the first time. I haven't seen an erect penis since my husband left. Young Tyler does look to have an impressive one. A very smooth rounded head... that must be what a circumcised cock looks like... my husbands was not cut.