She Was “On Duty” for the Party Itself, but She Still Got Her Fun Later

While I was cohosting a housewarming party, I met my friend Delia’s handsome nineteen-year-old brother, Gregory, who was staying with them for the summer while he was working nearby. He was utterly charming and had the sexiest eyes, which seemed to look right through my blue dress.

The party had started at four. By nine, complete darkness had fallen over the backyard, where most people had been congregating. I had been taking care to see there was always fresh food on the patio buffet, to assure that nobody went away hungry, or worse yet, was served food that had been out too long.

With darkness, guests began to depart for home. When the remaining guests started moving inside, several other women helped me close the outside buffet, and when we finished, the other hosts told me to take a break, which I welcomed. I fixed myself a drink and went out to just sit alone on the dark side of the deck and rest my feet after being in heels since noon.

My husband, Rich, came out and asked if I was okay. I assured him I was fine. He said the guys were getting a poker game going in the garage, and I gave him my blessing, adding that I might slip away and go home.

I finished my drink and wished I had another but didn’t want to go in to get it, so I just closed my eyes for a moment, thinking I really should go on home. I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped, then looked up to see a man standing beside my lounge. At first I didn’t recognize the voice that said, “I brought you another drink, Sharon.” I quickly sat up, tugging my dress down as I did, since it had ridden up pretty high, before I recognized Gregory.

I accepted the drink and thanked him. He sat on the lounge by my feet and said that we had put on a nice housewarming and he had really enjoyed himself. He said it was the first time he’d been to an adult party where liquor was served freely and he was impressed that nobody got drunk and obnoxious. He said he had learned from watching that it was a lot more fun to enjoy oneself than to get plastered the way kids do.

We enjoyed a nice conversation. Between sips of my drink I asked about his college experience and wasn’t concerned when he began to rub my bare feet. I even told him that it felt good because my feet really ached. While continuing to chat, he massaged both of my feet and worked his way gradually up to my calves.

My thoughts began going places a married woman’s shouldn’t. While Gregory rattled on about his boring summer job in a warehouse, I was picturing him between my thighs, pleasuring my burning pussy with a nice cock that didn’t go soft until the sun came up. When he asked me if I would like another drink, I said no, that I needed to keep my wits so that I wouldn’t forget I was a married woman.

He placed his hand on my thigh as he said, “You’re a beautiful woman, Sharon, and I’m sure you’ve had many men come on to you. I want you to know I respect a married woman and would never betray her by telling anybody about any intimate moments we might share.”

His hand was riding up my inner thigh to my panties. He didn’t grope me like I expected from a guy his age. He just caressed the material molded to my bulging pussy lips. I could gladly have spread my legs for him with my friends and husband apt to happen upon us any second, but I had enough sense to push his hand away while sitting up, slipping my shoes on, and saying, “We’d better go inside.”

Gregory agreed reluctantly to go in first so that we wouldn’t be seen coming in together. I waited five minutes, then followed, and was relieved when I didn’t see him inside. I chatted with the other women, then told them I was beat and was going home, letting Rich enjoy his poker till God-knew-when. I asked the girls to tell him I’d taken the car, so he would have to walk the whole block home.

Starting for the car, I was startled by a figure standing nearby and turned to reenter the house. “Wait, Sharon,” Gregory said. “It’s only me. I had a feeling that you might leave, so I waited to see that you get home safely.”

When I was near him, I said, “Isn’t that a little like having a wolf walk a lamb through the forest?”

“No,” he said, opening my car door. “I’m just concerned for your safety.”

I got in the driver’s seat, planning to pull the door shut, but he moved in behind me and slid me over, throwing his arm around my shoulder and holding me next to him. Then he slid his hand down and cupped my right breast. A moment later his lips met mine. I broke away and asked if he’d lost his mind—if my husband caught us, he would tear him in two in a heartbeat.

He started the car and backed out of the driveway. Only then did he ask where I lived. I gave him directions, knowing how wrong it was, but that didn’t outweigh my desire. He fondled my tit and the pebble-hard nipple until we were in my driveway. He took the garage-door opener from me, drove in, and closed the garage door, then turned the interior car lights on and planted a passionate kiss on me.

By the time our lips parted, he had unzipped my dress and unhooked my bra. He lowered my dress and tossed the bra on the dash, baring my sensitive 34C breasts. I just lay back, allowing him total access to my tits until I was delirious. I didn’t resist when he laid me across the car seat and pushed my dress up to my waist. When he tugged on my panties, I lifted my ass to allow him to remove them.

When he moved quickly into a kneeling position on the seat behind the wheel, I was surprised to see that he was nude from the waist down. He grasped my legs, pressed them back, and spread them, then slid his cock in. It was, in reality, rather modest, but I had never felt a harder one.

There was nothing romantic about our coupling. We were just horny fuckers venting our lust. Gregory managed to bring me to climax before releasing his seed into me. While we recovered, he remained locked to me loin to loin, his cock still amazingly hard and still in me.

I hugged him and said, “How could something that is so wrong feel so good? But seeing that the deed’s done, let’s do it again.”

He began thrusting slowly, gradually increasing his speed until it sounded like someone was slapping water when his loins hit my sloppy crotch. He pounded me for nearly ten minutes, finally bringing me to climax before his balls coughed up another copious load. His erection faded and he slid out of me, dripping come.

While I worried about the stain it was going to leave on the car seat, I already felt my young friend developing another erection. I know I should have been satisfied already, but the sheer naughtiness of having sex with a man so much younger took precedence, and I reached down to guide him back in me.

He stroked me slowly for a while, then said, “I can’t believe I’m having sex with the woman I was told earlier tonight was untouchable.”

I said, “I can’t believe I’m cheating on my husband, and with a child I just met.”

All the while Gregory fucked me, I kept thinking Rich could be home anytime, but I just couldn’t stop. When we finished, I kissed him and sent him out through the house. He asked when he could see me again, and I said, “We’ll see. We’ll see.” Of course I knew I couldn’t see him again.

I douched and took a quick shower before slipping into bed and falling asleep. I was awakened before sunrise by an unexpectedly horny husband. After he had his way, I said, “What brought that on?”

“Funny you should ask,” he said. “At the party there was this good-looking kid who asked about you, obviously not knowing who I was. He had some crush on you! I warned him he was wasting his time, that you’re untouchable. Then, during the poker game, I couldn’t think about anything else.”

—S.H., Boca Raton, Florida