Title: His Secret - My Pleasure, chapter 1
Author: Bethanie (bethanee83@yahoo.com)
Keywords: Fsolo, Mf, Ff, mast, voy
Summary: I uncover my tenant's secret, and discover something
about myself.


A few moths ago I decided to rent out our spare room. Money had
been tight since my divorce, and I needed the additional income,
just to make ends meet. I had planned on taking on a woman,
thinking there might be a chance I could arrange to have her help
watching my two children from time to time, but after
interviewing several women, all of whom were unacceptable I
settled on a single man named Peter.

Peter is 35 years old (the same age as me) and works as a free
lance photographer, and is doing well enough that he was able to
give me the first two months' rent in advance, which I greatly
appreciated. He agreed to my terms, which were basically that he
maintain the room in good condition, not have any loud parties,
and of course pay the rent on time.

He was very agreeable, and I found him quite charming. I wanted
to be sure that my children understood that we had a new house
guest, so I introduced to them. Andy, who is 8 and very mature
for his age, shook hands with Peter and immediately ran off to
play with his friends. Anna, my 12-year-old told me later that
she though Peter was cute. I think she formed an immediate crush
on him, which I have seen her do with almost every male she meets
since my husband moved out.

The spare room had its own bathroom and its own entrance door at
the end of a hallway that ran to the back of the house. When
Peter asked how I would feel if he set up a small studio in his
room so he could do some portraiture it seemed reasonable.

I found that Peter was an ideal tenant. Occasionally I would hear
a muffled conversation as I passed by the door to his room, but
beyond that he was so quiet that from time to time I almost
forgot that he was living with us.

A few weeks went by, and one evening after the kids were in bed I
was sitting in the living room reading when I saw a mouse scuttle
across the floor in the direction of Peter's room. I'm not one of
those women who screams when she sees a mouse, but I don't like
sharing my home with them all the same. I followed its trail and
soon discovered a small opening in the baseboard next to his
door. I got down on all fours to have a closer look. A flickering
light was showing under Peter's door and I could hear the sound
of a young girl's voice. At first I thought he might be watching
television, but the clacking of a keyboard suggested he was on
his computer.

I began feeling uncomfortable with the fact that I was being
nosy, and I was just about to withdraw when I heard a new sound
from under Peter's door. This one caught my attention. It wasn't
just the fact that it was a man's voice. It was that he was
moaning in a way that was clearly sexual. At first I thought it
might be Peter himself, but it didn't sound like him. I felt I
shouldn't be listening but I couldn't seem to move. The moaning
kept repeating, every few seconds, and I soon realized that I
myself was becoming sexually aroused.

I assumed that Peter was watching Internet pornography of some
sort, and I began to try to imagine what he might be seeing.
Unlike most of my women friends I have a taste for pornography
that goes back to my childhood, when I was exposed to it by my
aunt Chrissie. Chrissie was seventeen at the time and openly gay.
I was thirteen. She taught me all about sex, including how to
masturbate. She never tried to have lesbian sex with me, though I
would probably have done it if she wanted me to, but she did like
to make herself come while watching me touch myself. She used
pornography to get me excited - pictures and video tapes, showing
all kinds of sexual activities - and it worked very well. After
exposing me to all the photos and movies it wasn't all that
difficult for Chrissie to get me interested in masturbating. And
after I had my first orgasm, I was hooked!

So now, listening by Peter's door, my hand found its way to my
pussy, and I quietly began to touch myself, inserting a finger
into my wet opening and then rubbing my stiffening clit. The
moaning sound continued, and I soon I could also hear heavy
breathing, which sounded closer and clearer. I realized that I
must be hearing Peter himself as well. He was masturbating! The
thought excited me and I began applying pressure to my clit as I
rubbed.

It was then that I heard the man say something indistinct, and a
child's voice responded softly. For a moment I was puzzled and
then I froze when I realized what I was hearing. A child, an
adult, sex. It could mean only one thing. Images flowed into my
mind, images I resisted at first, then allowed. I pictured a man
lying on his back on a big bed, with a young girl - Anna's age -
sitting next to him, holding his erect penis in one hand and a
lollipop in the other. In my imagination I watched as she first
licked the lollipop, then bent to lick his penis, from the base
to the tip, as I had seen grown women do in porn films. Each time
she licked him the man would moan.

I was confused by my feelings. In my mind I knew what I was
witnessing - or at least imagining - was wrong, so very wrong. I
wanted to get away from Peter's door, but at the same time I felt
like I was incapable of leaving. Instead I found myself leaning
closer, and I resumed touching myself.

Soon the moaning sound became more urgent and rose in pitch.
There was a pause and then I heard the man begin to groan, again
and again. The child's voice giggled. I envisioned his penis
erupting, spilling his semen down over her small hand. Peter's
breathing sounded ragged and I though I heard him whisper a
single word: "Fuck".

Suddenly all of this was too much for me. I backed away from the
door, quietly rose to my feet, and tiptoed away. A moment later I
was in my bedroom, closing the door. I stood for a moment in the
dark, with my back against the door. I felt my insides shaking.
My face was hot, my nipples were erect, and my panties were
undeniably damp. I had an undeniable need to complete what I had
started, to bring myself to orgasm. I tore open my blouse and
lifted my bra, freeing my breasts, and I undid my belt, unzipped
my pants and lowered them to the floor along with my panties. My
left hand moved back and forth, massaging and squeezed each of my
breasts, twisting and teasing the nipples. My right hand went
directly to my pussy, and I thrust two fingers all the way
inside, grinding the pad of my thumb roughly on the ridge of my
clit. In seconds I was coming, shuddering, as wave after intense
wave shook my abdomen. My legs nearly buckled and I cried out
several times.

As I stood there, my palm now pressed against my throbbing pussy,
there was a rusting sound from my bed and the light came on. I
was shocked to see my daughter Anna up on one elbow, looking
directly at me.

To be continued...


  
His Secret, My Pleasure - chapter 1