She Was Married, and He Was Too Young, but What the Hell

I am a married forty-five-year-old housewife. One day last summer I was pruning my rosebushes when our neighbors’ twenty-year-old son, Steve, walked into my yard and struck up a conversation. I hadn’t seen him since he’d started college, and I couldn’t help noticing how attractive this young man had become. To my surprise, I felt a kind of tingle that I hadn’t felt in a long time, especially since my fifty-year-old husband and I don’t have sex nearly as much as we used to. But I pushed any wicked thoughts out of my head, telling myself that not only was I married, but I was also old enough to be his mom.

As we talked, I also noticed that he seemed to be looking at me in a different way from the way he’d regarded me when he was younger. It seemed as though he was checking me out a little, and I had to admit I liked it.

Taking a chance, and knowing I probably shouldn’t, I invited him in for a glass of iced tea. We sat at the kitchen table and talked some more. When we finished our drinks, I took the glasses to the sink to rinse them out. As I did so, I was suddenly aware of him standing very close behind me—so close, in fact, that his crotch was brushing against my round butt. I was wearing a pair of denim shorts, but I clearly felt his bulge pressing against me. Before I knew it, his hands had slipped around me to hold my breasts through my white blouse as he actually ground his hard cock into my butt. I heard his voice telling me excitedly how sexy I was and how he’d always wanted me.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was excited but felt guilty about it, so I pushed myself away and told him I couldn’t cheat on my husband, despite my desires. He apologized then, saying that I had always been his fantasy and that he couldn’t help himself. Then, in a sudden turnabout, he started begging me to let him have sex with me. I told him no, but he persisted until I told him he should leave. I then turned and walked out, heading down the hall to my bedroom. When I heard the front door open and shut I figured he was gone. I was still so excited that I had to do something. I fell on my bed and began rubbing myself through my clothes, bringing myself to a strong climax.

Just as I was coming down from my sexual high, I looked up to see Steve standing there, his hard young cock in his hand. He had never left! Without a word, he walked to my bed and stood beside me, stroking himself as he looked down at me. I just lay there and watched him. After a minute he said, “Please touch it.”

As if in a daze, I reached up with trembling hands to touch him and then stroke him. He leaned over and ran a hand up my bare leg to the crotch of my shorts and rubbed me there. It felt so good that I didn’t stop him when he unbuttoned my shorts. I even lifted my butt off the bed so he could pull them off, along with my panties. He then spread my legs wide as he kissed my inner thighs, then began kissing, licking, and sucking my very excited pussy. His talented tongue and fingers took me to new heights, and I came over and over.

During one of my climaxes he quickly climbed on top of me. I made a halfhearted attempt to close my legs, but I didn’t resist when he pushed them apart again, and I felt the tip of his cock searching for my entrance. He quickly found it, and I gasped as he slid easily into me with one strong push.

He wasted no time as he urgently began thrusting in and out of me. Soon my moans were filling the room as the headboard of the bed banged repeatedly against the wall. I came twice more before he gasped loudly and unloaded his sperm inside me.

After that I had to chase him out before my husband and children came home. Once he was gone, the guilt began to set in, and I promised myself it would never happen again.

But around two o’clock the next afternoon I was prepping vegetables for supper when the doorbell rang. It was Steve. I let him in and tried to act as though nothing had happened the previous day, but he was soon standing behind me again, stroking my hair and my butt, asking if everything was okay. I told him that what we had done was wrong in so many ways that it could never happen again. Steve didn’t say anything. He just continued to stroke my ass, and then he began kissing my neck, which always gets me hot. I began to get that same tingling feeling in the pit of my tummy, and before I knew it, we were in the bedroom again.

Steve kept telling me how much he wanted me as he pulled his clothes off, his hard prick standing up proudly. I tried to reason with him in a last attempt to save my soul, but since I was also undressing at the time, I guess he didn’t take it too seriously. As I stood in my bra and panties, he came to me and gently pushed me back on the bed, and for the second time in two days, I lifted my hips so he could slide my panties off. Again he kissed my inner thighs, ate my pussy, and got me off before quickly mounting me and fucking me in a frenzy that had us both yelling in climax as his strong young come spurted into me.

It soon became a regular thing for Steve to come over during the day. As a matter of fact, our affair is still going on and shows no signs of letting up. I don’t feel guilty anymore, and I’m more satisfied than I’ve been in years. So everything is just fine, provided we don’t get caught.

—Name and address withheld