All teenage boys masturbate, something we girls found out about during our own experiences, and as mothers, washing and changing their bed sheets.
Being a divorcee liberated my libido, and being referred to as a MILF, opened my options for experimenting and enjoying my sexuality, albeit quietly, a woman can enjoy the attention of younger men, without advertising she is doing so, I mean, boys are going to be boys, and if a woman does not know what it is she is doing, accidentally on purpose, well who an blame her?
One wonderful thing about shaving, is the infamous, ‘Camel Toe’, an eyeful for any boy, because the obvious lack of underwear, can send a young mind into raptures, even as a girl, I always found men without underpants, a titillating prospect, and could never stop looking.
On Friday evenings when my son brought a friend for a stay over, I would workout and arrive home from the gym, all sweaty and ‘Camel Toeish’, standing in a full frontal confrontation, and seeing his eyes looking downwards, well, who could tell a sweat mark, from a spreading damp patch, yes I was also a heavy wetter.
Dirty laundry dumped into ones laundry basket in the toilet, is another convenient ploy, especially if your thong and brassier are on top of a pile, with the lid left ajar, what is it about boys that just can’t resist semenizing the barely there gusset, as they release their pent up sexual frustrations, only to be surreptitiously chastised whilst holding my panties before washing them, letting them know what they did was naughty, but you forgive them, oils the passage for future exploits, as their penis grows into manhood sizes, a hungry woman can enjoy.
‘Upskirting’, young men, is an erection staple, middle aged women employ for an immediate effect. Women have to spread their thighs for sex, nature makes us that way, so doing so in front of a young male, lets him see where he is meant to be going, hence going ‘Commando’, I’m sure many men out there, reading this, have seen a woman’s open cunt, inviting you in, whilst she eyeballs you as you looking up her skirt?
Before my divorce, I was the young wife of a football coach, running a boarding house for young players. We boarded ten players during Summer camps, paid for by the club, and with my husband a fully two decades older than me, having so much testosterone fuelled athletic boys around, it was inevitability, that some cocks were going to be massaged, and the bigger ones sat on.
Once I got a taste for it, I stopped wearing underwear, and would make a bed of my choosing, apologising for overlooking it, just before the boy went to bed, that way I was in the room, changing his sheets, which I knew had the familiar semen stains encrusted, as he watched my hands caress the linen, and look him in the eye, as I pointed out his ejaculations on the said sheet.
‘Better on here, than wiping your cock on my curtains’, I would make light of it, eyeballing him as I said it, hovering close to allow my body odours and perfume to permeate his already dirty thoughts about me, so close to bedtime.
With the sheets spread and the downy fluffed and aired, I would mockingly chastise him and add, ‘Don’t be shy, get undressed’, an invitation that thankfully most young bucks will do, to impress, as I held the downy down, and my eyes looked down at the growing bulge, my invitation to tuck them in, in a mother-like gesture, I was hoping to see the male equivalence of the ‘Camel-Toe’, bulging in the tight underpants, which was my cue, for a lights out, and a climb in beside them for the fuck of a lifetime, a secret we always kept, between us, albeit unbeknown to the boy, as my husband was listening in the next bedroom, jacking himself off to the rhythm of the bed-springs and my suppressed moans.
Even my s****r’s lad succumbed to my wiles, on one such stay-over at her’s. He came into my bedroom early one morning as I sat bare-assed on my chair in front of the computer, he had walked in during a mid-stream masturbation, I was caught with my panties at my ankles, rubbing one out, how long he had been watching I don’t know, but it was hard to explain why a man was on the screen jacking himself off.
My nephew, who was infatuated by me, knew what it was I was doing, and the stranger on the computer was treated to the sight of me holding my nephew close to me, between my legs, with my ankles pushing on his buttocks, even at that age and penis size, I could feel him move inside me, and two decades later, he still enjoys the occasional stay over.