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From: nitetimeguy74@yahoo.com (Eddie)
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Subject: {ASSM} Rite of Spring (mF, no sex, wife)
Date: Thu,  4 Apr 2002 14:10:02 -0500
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Just a forewarning - this is an erotic story but there is no
intercourse.  I could have written it in, but I wanted this to be
exactly the way I remembered it.  This is a true story.

It was the end of that first truly hot day in spring.  The one where
the insects start making noise for the first time all year, and every
plant and flower is in bloom and secreting their scent full bore.  It
was a perfect Sunday afternoon.  I should have been out with my
friends, but I was a 14 year old boy who needed money, and babysitting
for my parents' friends the Lavelle's was just about the only way to
get it.

Mr. Lavelle pulled into our driveway late that afternoon.  On evenings
he went out with his wife he drove this totally sweet mint condition
red Jaguar.  He had money and style and liked to talk about his car -
a lot.  On this particular evening he told me how my first car should
be a Jaguar - he said girls would be all over me and that it was a
guaranteed "hand-job" car.

When we got to their house, Mrs. Lavelle showed me what the kids
should eat and gave me all the routine instructions, yada yada; I'd
babysat for them before.  The kids were no problem - a girl and a boy,
5 and 3.  I'd play with them for about an hour and they'd practically
pass out on their own.

Before she left, Mrs. Lavelle told me that once the kids were in bed
she didn't care if I had a girlfriend over; she said she remembered
what it was like to be a teenager.  I thought that was really cool
seeing as how my mom wouldn't even let me be alone in my room with a
girl even when she was home.

I told Mrs. Lavelle thanks but I didn't have a girlfriend.  She said
something very nice like "well that's very surprising."  She was a
very pretty brunette, probably 35 years old, very thin, and always
looked glamorous when she was going out.  Tonight she had on a red
skirt with an off-white top that looked like two sashes crossing down
from her bare shoulders.  She was also very friendly and sweet, in an
innocent flirting kind of way, so her comment about me not having a
girlfriend made me feel pretty good.

I lamented the fact that I didn't have a girlfriend as I let the kids
tire themselves out in the backyard after their parents left.  The
early evening was gorgeous, the sun was still hanging on and wonderful
pre-summer smells were in the air.  I tried to think of any girls I
could possibly call and invite over - but the reality of being 14, too
skinny and tall and at the mercy of puberty was that even if a girl
did want to come over, there was no chance of me getting any.  I had
only ever even French-kissed two girls at that point.

After the kids went to bed, I loafed on the couch and just watched TV.
 The NBA playoffs were on, and I watched as Michael Jordan hit the
game winning jump-shot over Craig Ehlo to give Chicago a victory in
their first round playoff series against Cleveland.  There wasn't much
else on until about 11:30, when a Showtime "after-hours" movie came
on.  Since the Internet wasn't around yet, my only source of porn,
albeit soft core, were the Showtime and Cinemax movies that ran after
hours.  Some were really bad American semi-action, semi-porn movies
(think Shannon Tweed), and some were really badly dubbed semi-edited,
decently conceived European porn movies (think Emanuelle.)

That night the movie was European - "My Swedish Aunt".  From what I
remember, it started out with this young woman traveling out to the
country to spend some time with her wealthy aunt.  Before she even
arrives, there is a scene where the aunt is getting it on with I think
it was her horse-trainer.  Again, the dubbing was bad and the sex
mostly edited, but at 14 years old I would take whatever I could get.

When the young girl arrives, she finds her aunt in bed (alone) but
naked, just waking up.  They make small talk that somehow evolves into
how much the niece admires her aunt's breasts.  Suddenly I got a
raging hard-on.  Although I knew I was a big fan of porno lesbians,
these movies never had incestuous undertones; I had no idea that would
arouse me so much.  I was almost embarrassed for myself that the
notion of incest turned me on - almost.  But these movies often stop
short of showing anything, so I thought for sure my luck would run
out.

Sure enough, the aunt pats the bed and invites her niece to sit down. 
I undid the belt on my shorts.  The niece sits down and begins to
caress and fondle her aunt's breasts.  I undid my zipper and pulled
out my cock.  They began to kiss, and I started stroking my cock like
there was no tomorrow.  The aunt spreads her legs and the girl's hand
travels down when I heard...

"Hi Eddie, we're back..."  

It was Mrs. Lavelle.  My extreme state of arousal was replaced
instantly with utter fear - I felt an acidic burn deep in my stomach
as I panicked trying to put my dick back in my shorts.  But it was too
late.  She walked into the family room and I stood there with evidence
on screen - and in hand.  I tried to say something but nothing
coherent came out of my mouth.  I was almost crying I was so scared
and ashamed.

Her reaction, surprisingly enough, was to almost to console me.  She
wasn't the least bit mad, although at the time I don't think I really
processed that fact, I just thought, "she's an adult, she's a friend
of my mom, I am dead."

"Oh Eddie, I didn't know..." she said, looking around trying to figure
out what to do.

"Mrs. Lavelle!!! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!  I just, uh, I uh..."  I
totally blabbered as I continued to try and stuff my cock back into my
pants.

"Oh... uh, don't worry about it, um..."  Then there was the most awkward
of all awkward pauses.  She wanted to do the right thing; I wanted to
shrivel up and die.  She finally said, "Here, come here," and took my
arm.  She led me over to the bathroom just off of the family room.
"You can finish, it's all right... Gary's in the car, he'll wait."

"Oh Mrs. Lavelle, I can't, I mean, I..." 

"No that's OK, it's OK.  You're a young man, I understand, it's
perfectly OK."

I was still standing there holding my cock and panicking trying to
stuff it in my shorts.  "No, I really can't.  Oh my god."

"Eddie," she said calmingly, "relax.  Go ahead and finish up."  She
glanced down at my cock and gave me a supportive little smile.

The rush of adrenaline from being caught had shaken me, but not taken
away my arousal.  In fact, it had intensified it.  I looked her in the
eye - she had this approving look on her face - and it gave me
butterflies.  I felt like I was outside of my body looking in as I
turned towards the toilet and resumed stroking myself.

"Yeah, there you go," she said.  She reached down and lifted the
toilet seat.  Now, I just assumed that she would leave and go in the
other room while I finished up.  She wasn't trying to seduce me; she
didn't appear turned on or like she couldn't control herself.  She
wasn't even being what I would call erotic about this; it was more
like she was being nice to me.  But for some reason she just stood
there and watched.  I continued to stroke it as best I could, but it
was too difficult to try and come with her looking on.

"Mrs. Lavelle, I'm sorry, I really don't think I can do it," I said.  

"Well, OK," she said, and paused to think.  "Here, maybe this will
help."  With that she slid the sashes of her top off her shoulders. 
They fell through her arms and down to her sides.  I was looking at my
first real-life pair of breasts.  I was in shock and could not stop
staring.

"Don't stop.  Keep going," she encouraged.  I was trying, but it was
really too much.  My brain was trying to process seeing live breasts
for the first time and I still could not focus with her looking at me.
 I couldn't even speak anymore.

"Do you like them?" She asked, her voice more like a shy debutante's
than an experienced older woman's.

I wanted to say they were the most beautiful, glorious things I'd ever
seen.  They were not big like a porn stars, but they were shapely and
perfect.  And they were so real - real as in right there in front of
me.  I could see that her skin was lightly freckled all over and pale,
milky white around the actual breasts.  Her nipples looked like
beautiful raspberries - I wanted to feel them on my tongue.  I wanted
to tell her all of this.

The sound that came out of my mouth was "Varfluumff."

At that point she must have known I wasn't going to be able to make
myself come, because she said, "Here, let me help," and moved next to
me, under my right arm (I was almost a foot taller than she was) and
actually took my cock in her hand.  "Come on now, Eddie.  You can do
it."

I think all I said for the next 30 seconds was "oh my god," about 500
times, over and over again.  Her breasts were now out of view, but I
could see her elegant fingers and feel that they were a little bit
cold despite the warm weather outside, as she gently squeezed and
rapidly stroked my throbbing cock.  I wanted to touch her tits so
badly too, and figured that now anything was game.  We were facing the
same way - my right arm was resting on her right shoulder, so I slid
my hand down on to her chest.

"Oooh, yeah, that feels good.  Come on now, do it for me," she
encouraged.  Even then I think I knew I wasn't really sexually
pleasing her by touching her; she was saying it to help get me off.

So I cupped her breast, felt its weight and softness, fondled it and
pinched the nipple, and ran my hand flat across to her other breast to
do the same.  I remember thinking I wanted to remember every small
detail about it.  And how I wanted it to last forever.  But her
ministrations were too good.

It started way down in my bowels.  Its electric branches reached into
my thighs, my stomach, my chest, my neck and my ears.  I took a deep
breath.  I could smell the flowers in their backyard.  I heard the
Swedish aunt cooing on the TV in the other room.  I felt my pulse
throbbing in my neck, chest and cock.  I clutched her breast in my
hand, the nipple between my thumb and index finger.  I took one last
look at her fingers.

"Yeah, that's it," she whispered.

My eyes were closed when I exploded.  I actually heard the first come
shot drill into the raised seat of the toilet.  Mrs. Lavelle angled me
down so the remaining shots went into the water.  And it was a good
thing, too - ropes and ropes of semen just poured out of me like a
fountain.  My legs buckled and I had to hold on to her to stay up.

"There you go," she said as she continued to jerk me until I was all
done.  She squeezed the head of my cock to get the last drops out and
then got some toilet paper to start cleaning the seat.  Then, much to
my dismay she slid her top's sashes back up.

I still couldn't talk. I was out of breath and woozy.  When she let go
of my cock, I instinctively put it right back into my shorts.  It was
much easier this time since it was on its way down.

"You better get going," she said, smiling.  I nodded my head and
turned for the door, slipping and almost falling down.  "Eddie," she
said, "tell him you fell asleep and I had to wake you up."

Brilliant.  She was absolutely brilliant.  "Thanks," I managed to say,
and it came out all fucked up because I needed to clear my throat.
"Bye."

"Bye," she said, and winked.  

The whole thing had taken less than five minutes from when she walked
into the house - probably even closer to three.  So the lie I told her
husband about having fallen asleep worked well.  No big deal, he said,
and proceeded to talk on and on about his car as he drove me home.  We
finally pulled in the driveway, and as I was getting out I said, "A
hand-job car, you say?"

"You got it."  

"Yeah," I thought to myself, "I got it."  

 From that day on, Mrs. Lavelle was the woman of my dreams.  I had
stupid teenage fantasies of her calling me at home and asking me to
come over, or of her letting me take her to a school dance, or of
things going differently that night where she drives me home and we
fuck in the Jaguar.  But nothing ever happened with her ever again.  I
babysat for them a few times after that night, and I was always so
nervous around her.  She would always come in to get me while her
husband waited in the car when they got home, but there was never any
kind of repeat performance.  She did ask me the very next time with a
wink if there were any interesting movies on, but I had no idea how to
answer her.  I gave a half-a-second thought to letting her "catch" me
again one time, but I didn't have the guts to go through with it.  I
am just forever grateful to her for being the first woman to make me
come.


Thoughts or comments always welcomed:
Nitetimeguy74@yahoo.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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