Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Love Thy Neighbor Chapter 4 of 14 (?)

   In this chapter, highschoolers, best friends and occsional fuck-friends,
Sebastian discovers Ethan has a loose tongue and wonders what the
consequences may be.  Meanwhile, the fires smoldering between Sebastian and
Mrs Lunsford, his best friend's mother, burst into flame and what happens
is better than his most erotic fantasy and worse than his darkest
nightmare. Written in my trademark purplish prose, this sensual
May/September relationship proves to be just as emotional as it is torrid.
Story coded as M/F Younger Man/Older Woman Approx 9,000 words

   Chapter 4

   Being bad proved to be a slippery slope.  I found myself continuously
slipping further down the primrose path, and the line between `couldn't
stop it' and `wouldn't stop it' was growing blurrier by the hour.  The
night after that life-changing afternoon at the Lunsford house found me
lying in my bed at home, considering the consequences of what I had done. I
found that while I wasn't ashamed of what had transpired, I wasn't exactly
going to shout it from the rooftops either and decided that the best thing
and most logical thing to do was to break this relationship off.  And how
did I break it off?  By being entwined in a torrid embrace in the shower
less than 24 hours later, Ethan and I kissing and laughing as we delighted
in discovering some of the deliciously dirty games two grown men can play
with one another.

   On the surface for the next six weeks, nothing changed.  The pair of us
were still respected and well-liked members of the varsity swim team,
engaging in typical horseplay, calling everything we disliked `gay' and
people we loathed `faggots', blending in as run-of-the-mill highschool
students of the 1980s.  Of course, once the doors were closed, though, the
two of us kissed and sucked one another at every opportunity and wherever
we could, preferably in Ethan's bedroom but frequently in the secret room
off the maintenance tunnel he and Erica had frequented under our school. 
On a rickety cot, the two of us first discovered the mutual joys of the
classic 69 position, the bliss of both giving and receiving, the pair of us
striving to last as long as we possibly could before ejaculating together,
squirting frothy cum into one another's gulping mouths in the same
synchronous rhythm as the thundering of our heartbeats.

   It wasn't exactly easy living this secret double life.  For example, I
still sat between my parents at the mass we attended on each and every
Sunday as we had for as long as I could remember, but now I actively tried
not to listen.  Instead I counted the word "sin." Forty-seven sins.  Father
O'Driscoll said the word "sin" forty-seven times during his sermon, and the
one time he was practically thundering from upon the pulpit, his hand
crashing down upon the lectern as he quoted the famed Catholic philosopher
Umberto of Cassini: "The sin of lust is the most corrosive of all sins,
blinding morality and enraging the passions.  It hinders truth seekers and
distracts the pious.  It sins against the body and weakens the soul.  Lust
of the flesh is never quenched but grows more inflamed and madder by
repetition!" and it made my heart leap to my throat.

   But even more disconcerting than the fear of the fires of perdition was
the realization of what this developing relationship was.  Though
occasionally loving things were said in the heat of passion, the truth was
that it was quickly becoming apparent that this was a purely sexual tryst,
on a physical level primarily though we certainly bonded together on an
emotional level as something more than friends but significantly less than
true lovers.  There never was any question whether Ethan was going to break
up with Erica; he wasn't, and it wasn't just to maintain appearances.  I
never considered him my `boyfriend' and he never called me that.  We were
simply too very close friends whose deep level of mutual trust and genuine
affection for one another allowed us to engage in homoerotic sex for the
sake of sating our sexual urges.  And I kept thinking I was missing out on
something more, something deeper, some indefinable ... something.

   So there I was, skipping school again on the Friday following, sitting
in Ethan's room, listening to the newest Majella and Striped Tiger albums
Erica had brought along with her, I was drinking one of the Bully Frog
beers that Ethan and I had somehow bought at a Mom `n' Pops with my
pathetically bad fraudulent ID and was now watching my best friend and his
girlfriend undulating in a slow dance to the pop starlet's crooning voice
and the rhythmic synth melody.  For some reason, I had been thinking of
Father O'Driscoll's damning homily and was feeling just how tender my flesh
really was, how vulnerable and aching.  Just seeing their young bodies
touching, swaying together romantically close to one another, made me long
for something that I knew was a sin.

   And I just couldn't deny it anymore.  It was all I thought about, no
matter what I was doing ~~ washing in the shower, daydreaming in physics
class, struggling to eat my mother's overcooked pork chops ~~ I couldn't
stop thinking about the crush I had had for the last two years on Mrs. 
Lunsford.  And it wasn't just thinking about watching her touch herself
that fateful night that had me spinning.  It was also the way she had
reached out and tenderly touched the corner of my mouth with the napkin
when she shared her blueberry bagel the next morning.  It was the
mysterious look in her flashing eyes when they fell between my legs just
before she left for work.  It was that had wicked smile of hers that hinted
of steamy sex and sinful fantasies.  It started slowly, nudging her pouty
lips apart like she shared a dirty secret, except Mrs.  Lunsford smiled
that way all the time.  My oversexed libido didn't care ~~ thought it was
just for my benefit.  I chose to agree.

   Watching Ethan and Erica, the way they affectionately nuzzled each other
and passionately kissed, I couldn't help but fantasize it was me and Mrs.
Lunsford embracing in one another's arms.  It was becoming a common
masturbatory fantasy of mine, one I had indulged in that very afternoon,
having gone home after afternoon swim team practice to change and meet my
best friend at his house.  As I stood there under the heated spray, soaping
and stroking myself, I had envisioned the curvy Ms.  Lunsford, drawn to her
sophisticated, refined beauty, so much more appealing than the trendy
cuteness of her younger counterparts.  I suspected that classy loveliness
would be even more appealing when she was moaning beneath me, her huge
expressive eyes liquid with desire to have my cock buried deep in her slick
pussy.  Maybe it would only be then, in the midst of making torrid love
with one another, that she'd finally notice me, see how much I loved her.

   `Whoah.  holy shit!' I thought frantically, staring at my best friend
and his girlfriend but thinking of Mrs.  Lunsford.  I mean, she had been
driving me nuts for forever, but love?  And yet, to a deep part of me, it
didn't come as a shock to me at all.  I loved her.  I'd felt this way for
years.  And it went far beyond purely physical, although that was certainly
part of it, seeing as I was masturbating to imaginary scenarios of her and
I together even as I was engaging in regular oral sex with Ethan.  There
was something deeply attractive about her unique combination of
self-confidence, maturity and self-awareness that was profoundly lacking in
girls my own age.  I'd been thinking that, given the chance, together we
could overcome any hurdles in our way.  All I knew was I wanted her in my
life.  In my bed.  Now, all I had to do was break the startling revelation
to my best friend since grade school that I was falling head over heels for
his mother...

   As I finished the last dregs of my beer, I saw Erica's hand slide
surreptitiously into Ethan's trousers and stealthily fish around.  I stood,
hanging onto the edge of the night table when the room tilted sideways and
my head started buzzing.  I wasn't much of a drinker, probably had had a
total of a dozen other beers in my whole life, and this afternoon, watching
Ethan and his girlfriend together, secretly thinking of Mrs.  Lunsford, I'd
had four.

   "I'm gonna leave you two alone," I murmured, seeing their wet pink
tongues twining together in a steamy kiss, Erica's leg wrapping around
Ethan's calf as he moved his hand shamelessly under her blouse, the other
edging her skirt up so high I could see her pink panties as he teasingly
squeezed the supple flesh of her lush ass in his hand.  "You guys seem to
have need of the bed."

   They broke off their torrid kissing and Ethan looked at me, a unique
mixture of concern and gratitude playing on his face.  "Are you sure?"

   "Yeah.  I'm sure" I assured him, inching past them toward the bedroom
door.

   "You don't have to." Erica said breathlessly, her glittering eyes
impudently gaping at the swelling bulge at my crotch.  I was amazed by her
audacity.  She had always seemed like such a nerdy Catholic school virgin.
"Why don't you stay...and play?"

   Shocked by the implications of the provocative question, I looked
questioningly toward Ethan.  Instantly I knew he'd told her about us, his
guilt revealed by the way he embarrassedly bit his lower lip and awkwardly
looked away, seemingly too ashamed to meet my perplexed eyes.  My face
burned in humiliation, my chest tightening not only at the betrayal but the
chances that Erica couldn't keep her blabbering mouth closed.  I shook my
head, not wanting to think of the possible horrific consequences at school
and beyond.

   "Three's a crowd," I hissed angrily, throwing open his door and not
looking back at them as I slammed it shut behind me.

   I stood in the hallway, leaning back against the wall because I was
having that dizzy, buzzing feeling in my head that fizzed inside me not
only from the alcohol but another kind of intoxication.  They were
conspiratorially whispering, the words inaudible through the wall, but then
I heard the bedsprings and knew they were making out.  I don't know how
long I was there, but it must have been quite a while, standing and
contemplating Mrs.  Lunsford's bedroom door.  It wasn't until I heard Erica
gaspingly moan and heatedly say, "Oooh yeah, baby, lick it!" that I made up
my mind to leave.

   Striding purposefully along the upstairs hallway, down the grand
staircase, and through the parlor, my mind was still buzzing with the
ramifications of the two profoundly affecting discoveries I had made in the
last fifteen minutes.  Remembering at the last moment a book I wanted to
borrow for my English literature class, I went into the library.  I knew
that Mrs.  Lunsford had studied Medieval History at University which
explained why they'd invested in the book-lined room filled floor to
ceiling with old manuscripts and ancient tomes with leather bindings. 
Heavy oaken tables, overstuffed furniture and a deep-piled, wine-colored
Oriental rug were all gently lighted by shaded lamps strategically placed
for reading.

   The library was my favorite room in the house and any other time I would
have been eager to examine the contents of the room, but right then I had
other things on my mind.  Looking for the shelf where I had previously
spotted the book I needed, I went towards it ... and stopped dead in my
tracks, my mouth going dry at the mere sight.  Mrs.  Lunsford was sitting
on a leather couch, looking at something.  I swallowed in my parched
throat, my cock thickening at the vision of her loveliness sight of her. 
God, she was gorgeous, rich auburn hair cut in a fashionable style,
adorable bangs spilling down almost into those dreamy bright eyes framed by
her old reading glasses, owlish, dark-rimmed, typically librarian.  She
wore little makeup, a touch of shadow below her arched eyebrows, a whisper
of blush on those classic cheeks, frosted burgundy tinting lips that drew
me in, the pouty fullness of them so very kissable.

   I found that I couldn't take my eyes off of her.  She was dressed as a
vision in sapphire blue that was her tailored business suit smoothing over
her gracefully flowing curves, the silk blouse hugging breasts that looked
so soft and touchable.  The ensemble was completed by a loose, billowy
chiffon skirt, summery but sexy, and a pair of strappy high heels.  Older
woman?  This was no older lady.  This was a woman, ripened into the full
flower of her feminine mystique ~~ and every cell in my body knew it.  I
could practically feel the sensuous warmth pouring off her body, making her
so adorably desirable it made me lick my chapped lips, trying to force down
the hunger curling through my crotch that made me want to hug her, tickle
her and fuck her all at the same time.

   Despite my eternal physical attraction towards her, I immediately sensed
that something was very wrong.  Her cheeks were flushed and she was sitting
in a strangely tense posture as she stared intently at a picture of her
dead husband.  I had known Mr.  Lunsford well, thought of him as a tall,
distinguished-looking older man, quick to laugh and full of life kind of
men.  He had been Ethan and I's soccer coach for a few years in our early
teens during the summer town leagues in the park, one of those rare as
quick to praise as he was to criticize coaches.  He'd died during his
morning jog of a massive heart attack stemming from an undetected
congenital defect in the aortic valves.  Naturally, Ethan and Mrs. 
Lunsford had taken it hard but I'd never known until that moment that she
was still in mourning over him.  I saw a vulnerability about her I had
never noticed before, a forlornness that made her look almost childlike
despite the small lines at the corners of her eyes ~~ eyes that seemed
hollow somehow, haunted with shadows.

   Something alerted her to my presence and she jerked her head up, staring
at me in her silent surprise.  For a split-second, I saw a virulent hate
distorting her beautiful features, a seething hatred that loathed me down
to her very core, and then it was gone, so quick and fleeting that I
doubted it had ever been there.

   "Hello, Sebastian," she said wearily, trying to flash a smile that came
across as tired and weak.

   "Hello, Mrs.  L" I replied, my initial instinct to comfort her confused
by the unexpected emotion I had seen and so I instinctively fell back to
the safety of calling her name I had since I was six years old.  "Your
husband?" I said, gesturing to the photo, hating that it sounded so
obvious, so impotent.  There was no way, no way at all, I could be in the
same league as a woman like Mrs.  Lunsford.  Hell, she probably thought of
me as a kid practically, and with the immature way I talked and behaved
around her, I didn't blame her at all.

   She sighed heavily.  "He died two years ago last month." She looked up
at me, the well-worn sadness etched in her face.  "You remember him.  He
was so healthy, so athletic."

   Desperately wanting to console her but not sure how to, I sat down on
the couch next to her.  "Yeah, Mr.  L was really cool," I responded,
ashamed that all I could really think of was not of Mr.  Lunsford but his
sexy wife's sweet, alluring scent tugging at her, excitingly vibrant and
undeniably feminine, deepening that tendril of heat sweeping through my
loins.  I eased back into the cushions, very aware of her elegant shoulders
scant inches from my own.

   "Did you know that he had had a full physical at Dr.  Zoller's three
weeks before?" she asked.

   It was excruciating sitting there, every muscle in my body trembling
with the strain of controlling my lusty desires.  I didn't respond afraid
that if words came out the next moment would fine me saying was that all I
wanted to do was ease the pain in any way I could of the babealicious fox
who happened to be my best friend's mom.

   "I..." she started, the tears that had been welling up in her shimmery
eyes now trickling down her cheeks.  Suddenly, she placed her tiny hand in
mine.  The warmth of it, the slight quiver of trepidation, sent an
electrified pulse straight to my groin.  "I miss him so much."

   "Of course you do," I breathed, my heart breaking at the sight of her in
such emotional turmoil, embarrassed by my lack of maturity that I had to
will my unruly erection into submission at such an inappropriate moment. 
My heart thrilled that she trusted me to share such a private moment and I
fervently wished I knew what to do.

   "God, Sebastian," Mrs.  Lunsford said with a snuffling laugh.  "You must
think I'm an old fool, sitting here crying in front of you."

   I could feel my jaw clench painfully tight at her words.  Mrs.  Lunsford
was many things, an `old fool', not being one of them and it angered me to
see her treat herself so poorly.  "I don't think that at all," I murmured,
trying to keep my own emotions in check.  "I think you're a woman who loved
her husband very much."

   At my compassionate words, anguishing pain across her features and she
crumpled, sobbing.  My own heart agonized to see her in such misery and I
closed my arms about her protectively, catching her, steadying her.  She
leaned her forehead against my supporting shoulder, the unchecked tears
cascading down her cheeks wetting my shirt.  I held her lovingly tight and
tried my best to soothe her despondent agony, rubbing my hand over the flow
of her back in small, gentle circles.  "It's all right.  It's okay to cry.
I'm here.  I've got you..." Over and over, I breathed a soft, reassuring
whisper in her ear, tenderly loving words that seemed to come from my very
soul, as she sobbed inconsolably against my chest.

   Mrs.  Lunsford cried until her cathartic tears slowly ebbed, and in the
silence that followed I became achingly aware of her.  I couldn't help
thinking of her as an impossible fantasy come true, a dream strangely
awakened into flesh.  The unreality of her was, for a moment, overpowering,
but when I sensed her skittering heartbeat, the alluring warmth of her
voluptuous softness in my embracing arms, the exotically beguiling feminine
scent of her filling my nostrils, they were all real enough.

   From the moment I'd seen that silent sorrow in her eyes, I'd wanted to
be the one to chase it away, to fix what was broken inside her.  I looked
down to see her, soft and warm, wonderfully vulnerable, gazing soulfully up
at me, those shimmery orbs fringed by soft, tawny lashes, her luscious lips
parting as her breath came faster.  When she slid her arms around my neck,
provocatively pressing her luscious body against me, a raging heat flared
in my cock and it speared aggressively into her lavish curves.

   I was suddenly completely unable to move, the shock of her actually
being in my arms making my head dizzyingly reel while my whole paralyzed
body pounded with agonized sexual need.  My chest heaved, my knees felt
like water but every other fiber of my being seemed centered in the
rock-hard erection straining against her.  I had tried to avoid this but
every time I got close to her, the insatiable hunger inside me flared up
like a beacon, yearning to touch her, hold her...

   Go on, admit it.  Fuck her.

   Yes.  And there was no way ~~ no way at all ~~ she'd let me.  What did
I, a teenager, have to offer someone like her?  She wasn't some girl,
heedlessly eager to fall in love with any man who looked her way.  Mrs. 
Lunsford was a woman, with a woman's needs, a woman's desires...

   Mrs.  Lunsford's fluttering eyelids abruptly flew open and she gapingly
stared up at me through goggling eyes, horrified at what we'd almost done.
Her head tossed back like a startled mare, blood, hot and stinging, rising
to her face, crimsoning her cherubic cheeks, her formerly bright eyes
darkening with an expression I couldn't read, didn't want to read.

   "Oh no," she whispered, panting and mortified but seemingly determined
to apologize.  "Oh God, Sebastian.  I...I didn't mean..."

   Trying to scramble to her feet, she put one hand on the cushion to push
herself away, the other she shoved blindly downwards to brace herself ...
and grasped the thickened bulge of my fully-engorged cock under her slender
fingers!  I gasped as a shockwave of coruscating sensation flashed outwards
from her merest touch then froze, my entire body going painfully rigid
beneath her small hand.  She blushed in what I first assumed was abject
mortification but instead of recoiling in horror, jerking back as if she
had touched a white-hot iron, her fingers lingered decadently on the long,
thick ridge of my penis!

   The slow, seductive dance of our flirtatious courtship had long since
sent the blood roaring into my ears, the near-palpable tension sizzling
like an electric charge between Mrs.  Lunsford and me escalating until I
couldn't take it anymore ~~ I simply had to have her!  Not that I would
have dared to touch this refined and sophisticated lady if she hadn't
touched me first, but there was no mistaking the scorching desire sparkling
in her vivacious eyes, the decadent way her infinitely responsive body had
quivered oh so delicately against mine.

   Acting on pure instinct, I leapt to my feel, joining her, clamping my
hands around the small of her back to pull Mrs.  Lunsford against me, and
bent my head down to kiss her hot, hungry mouth.  `Damn, but she is sexy' I
thought faintly, a molten heat rushing over me as her hand at my crotch
rose to my shoulders to allow her to lean in, rolling her curvaceous hips
and soft tummy over my raging erection.  Warm, searching lip searched for
mine, and when she found my mouth, she whimpered into it.  The tender,
affectionate kiss didn't satisfy her for long because soon she was greedily
pressing her lips, plush yet demanding, to mine for a far more heated kiss,
her little tongue tapping at my teeth, insistently urging them apart in her
desire for ever more.

   Saliva flooded our enmeshed mouths as our slippery tongues entwined
together.  As if that were some unspoken signal only my heaving desire
understood, any last vestige of restraint vanished and I fisted my hand in
her dense hair before plunging my tongue deep to ravage her willing mouth
and rub teasingly along her kittenish tongue.

   Mewling like a horny cat, Mrs.  Lunsford knew exactly what she was doing
as she shamelessly sucked my tongue, arching into my plundering kiss,
running her free hand admiringly up my arm and across the swell of my
shoulder.  I had expected resistance, but the primal desire of this
sensuous woman made my head spin.  That deliquescent heat flowed deep and
pure in my loins, making my aching cock burn like an incinerating forest
fire.  Soon there was nothing in the entire world but that scrumptiously
sultry heat, the erotic feel of her silky body against mine, her serpentine
tongue tangled up in mine, my hands slowly gliding down the sleek slide of
her back to massagingly cup the pillowy globes of her sexy ass...

   At that moment, I felt as if the two of us were the only denizens in
some ethereal, otherworldly space, a shard of existence where all the laws
of reality had been suspended.  If we stopped to think, even for a moment,
it would fracture and then shatter like hand-blown glass.  Wordlessly, Mrs.
Lunsford slid her hand into my trousers, immediately discovering I had
neglected to put on any underwear.  The feel of her delicate fingers
threading through my pubic hair sparking my pulse to an erratic thumping
and throbbing the length of my achingly swollen penis, the flare of lust
making a fresh flow of precum spill wetly from the tip.  When her trembling
fingers actually touched my cock, a low, throaty noise, a sound I'd never
made before, more like a tiger's growl, rumbled through my chest.  God, how
I wished that nothing else could ever exist ever again except her
tentatively caressing my thick pulsing shaft, a timid touching that quickly
became a deliberate stroking along the entire length of my straining
erection.

   When Mrs.  Lunsford pushed her hand deeper, cupping her fingers
knowingly around the heavy fullness of my balls, I couldn't help but
shudder my elation.  She seemed endlessly fascinated by my testicles, the
way they gave slightly under her titillating touch, warm, taut skin sliding
back and forth as she lovingly caressed them.  I could feel the relative
sharpness of her manicured nails brushing against my scrotum, and the
wicked thought of her lightly scratching her claws against my swollen sac
sent a strange, exotic shiver rippling through me.  Not that I'd actually
want her to hurt me.  `It's just the closeness,' I thought woozily, `the
possibility, the danger...'

   I arched into her masturbatory touch, instinctually thrusting my
spearing cock against her seeking fingers.  When she turned her hand,
pressing her palm hard against my beefy penis, the resulting blissful
tingles made me unabashedly groan.  I retaliated by releasing her hair and
dropping my hand to her tapered waist.  Though my hands were trembling
slightly, I took my time lavishly stroking up her flank until I was
covering her bosom, strong fingers cupping each creamy-soft breast.  Her
wantonly beaded nipples beaded up to poke my massaging palm through the
diaphanous silk of her blouse.  She was openly panting when I broke off our
steamy kiss, her plush lips still pursed for more, and bent down to nuzzle
her sloping neck, deftly opening one of the pearl buttons of her shirt to
slide my hand within, trailing my fingers over the gauzy lace of her bra.

   When I closed my fingers over her pebbly nipples, thoroughly enjoying
their fleshy plumpness, pinching them lightly, I very nearly came in my
pants.  It seemed to have an almost as potent effect on Mrs.  Lunsford
because she suddenly started squirming, her knees buckling.  Controlling my
own near-crisis by sheer will I caught her as she slumped bonelessly
against the library wall, her back toward me.  When I dropped kisses to the
spot where her neck curved to her shoulder, her sweet acquiescing murmur
nearly buckled my own knees.  `Fuck she tastes good,' I thought dazedly as
I eased my hand back into her blouse, fingers squeezing and rubbing her
delectably chubby nipples, thrilling each one through the scratchy lace.

   By now need, hot and urgent, was thundering through me so when Mrs. 
Lunsford reached her hands around herself, I grabbed her slim wrists with
one hand and yanked them over her head, making her gasp as I pinioned her
against the wall.  As I pressed my jutting erection hard against her
cushiony ass, she pushed back against me, brazenly rubbing her rump against
the bulge tenting obscenely in my trousers.  I groaned at her audacity and,
still restraining her wrists with one hand, dropped my free hand to her
crescent-curved hips, pulling her even more tightly into my groin.  Then I
eased my free arm around her waist, tugged roughly at the restraining
button of her dress, unzipped the zipper, and pushed the unwanted garment
down to the floor.

   Mrs.  Lunsford abruptly froze and I joined her in her momentary
paralysis, achingly conscious of her pretty ass, naked but for the flimsy
panties she wore.  I couldn't breathe, couldn't move, gaping in admiration
and lechery at the gossamery fabric clinging to the fleshy folds of her
sex. I bit my lip and found myself unzipping my trousers, trying not to
think, hoping and praying Mrs.  Lunsford wouldn't chicken out and run from
the room.  I knew I sure as hell didn't want to.  I wanted to be inside
her, my cock buried deep in her sodden pussy, fucking with all my strength
into that silken soft, voluptuously smooth body.

   "I love this ass," I murmured reverentially as I exploringly trailed one
finger along the frilled edge of her Brazilian-cut panties, down over the
arched curve of her sexy rump.  I took one abundantly full globe in my hand
and began rhythmically squeezing it, my nerve endings sizzling from the
fulsomeness of its buoyant creaminess and Mrs.  Lunsford's salacious
moaning.  She had splayed her hands on the wall, noticeably trembling, her
breathing sounding very ragged, her eager submissiveness making my naked
cock pulse with need.  I had begun stroking my lust-inflated manhood, the
luscious sensations combined with noticing a moist darkening on her panties
taunting me, wanting to both give and receive a more heated caress.

   When I pulled aside the satin gusset of her panties, not even bothering
to peel them off, she waggled her fantastic as at me, flaunting the puffy
lips of her sex that were now in plain view, adorned by arrestingly dense
pubes.  I reached down to slide my fingers over her inner thigh before
`accidentally' brushing up against her steamy pussy.  She flinched and made
a move to escape so I pinned her to the wall with my hips, still trapping
her hands in my firm but gentle grip.

   "Let go," Mrs.  Lunsford demanded with a grunt, punctuating her haughty
command with an insistent shove backward.

   Acquiescing to her wishes, I instantly released her hands but breathed
in a sultry whisper in her ear, playfully tugging on the classy
turquoise-and-silver earring she wore.  "I'm not going to hurt you, honey,
I just gotta touch you.  Gotta touch your wet pussy."

   She stopped struggling so I ran my calloused finger between her slick
folds.  I was astonished to not only find her impossibly drenched but that
her cunny was clenching, squeezing and leaking over the lightest
feathering. "Jesus," I breathed in awe, pushing a finger into her gooey
juiciness.  "You're so hot, baby.  So wet." She moaned like a gutter cat in
heat, arching her back, pressing my finger deeper inside her.  I had my
other hand clamped on her hip to guide her or reassure her as the situation
warranted, but I needed hardly any of the latter, being as her breath was
hitching and, using the wall she was heavily leaning upon for leverage, she
unabashedly rolled her callipygian ass back towards me.  When I began
slowly pumping my finger in and out of her succulent pussy, savoring the
velvety smoothness of her tender inner flesh, she began writhing her entire
lower torso in her voracious need.

   Reaching upwards to that secret place where her plump creases melded
together, I found the slick pearl of her clitoris.  Taking it between my
finger and thumb, I rolled it, mirroring my previous actions with her
nipples.  She immediately thrust into my hand, silently begging me to
thrill her pussy.  I complied with her wishes, driving two fingers into her
slick channel while pressing my thumb into her clit with cadenced pulses.
Her muffled panting started soaring into squeals of delight, making me
rejoice in giving her such unfettered pleasure.  When I sharply pinched
over the pebbled tip of her clitty hard on a roll, a mewling cry erupted
from her lips and her hips thrust hard into my hand as a series of
spasmodic convulsions started wracking her body, betraying the deliquescent
bliss surging through her.  I was astonished, feeling a fresh flow of
honeyed wetness spilling from within as her cunny wetly sucked on my
fingers.  My own hips jerked in sympathetic response and I inwardly
rejoiced at viewing for the first time the beautiful miracle of a woman's
orgasm.

   I waited for the tremors to diminish into tiny shivers before I withdrew
my soothingly stroking hand.  I was astonished to hear Mrs.  Lunsford
whimper hungrily, despite the resplendent orgasm, her carnal appetites far
from satiated.  I chuckled softly beside her ear at her gluttonous cravings
while I brought my fingers up to my nostrils to breathe in her spicy aroma,
its peppery exoticness making me inhale sharply.  Unable to resist, I
placed those nectar drenched fingers in my mouth and sucked her essence
off, her vibrantly exciting flavor tastier than the sweetest honey and it
made me moan.  "Mmmm, your pussy tastes so good!"

   Mrs.  Lunsford mewled like a hungry alley cat when, clutching the trunk
of my jutting cock, I lined up my protruding cock and with her sex and
nudged the bulbous dome in amongst her densely-furred labia.  When she
shoved her hips back, I had to grab at them desperately, holding her still.
Simply the sight of her willingly bent over before me, her back arched, her
hands splayed on the wall as if bracing herself, was almost too much for my
self-control.  Her rounded ass was every bit as gorgeous as it had seemed
beneath her clothes ~~ sumptuously full and exquisitely curved, jiggling
slightly at her every saucy wiggle and cavorting.  The laced edge of her
satin panties, tugged tight where I'd roughly yanked them aside, bit
slightly into that soft, voluptuous flesh.  At that moment I couldn't
understand why the girls in highschool all were so desperate to look as if
they'd melted every ounce of fat off their bodies.  Mrs.  Lunsford, with
her plush ass and warm, squeezable breasts, aroused me in a way I'd never
felt before, never even imagined.

   "Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me, baby" I breathed in my
admiration and awe, then the one problem I had smacked me dead in the face.
Still holding the blunted tip of my glans firmly against her dripping
entrance, I bent low over my lady, her arched back warm against my stomach,
the back of her neck smoother than silk as I huskily panted in her cute
ear. "God.  Oh God, Mrs.  Lunsford.  I want to be in you so bad.  I
don't...I don't have any condoms.  Tell me to stop, Mrs.  Lunsford.  Tell
me to stop."

   Mrs.  Lunsford responded by sliding one hand down between her spread
thighs, wrapping her cool, slim fingers around the hot thickness of my
penis and urged me into her pussy.  My breath coming in ragged gasps, I
used my fingers, still splitting the cushiony globes of her ass, as
leverage as I thrust up inside her hard enough to lift her to her toes. 
God, she felt amazingly good!  Steamy hot and gooey wet and incredibly
tight, her demure channel struggling to adjust to my size, a velvet-draped
fist clamped around my thickened shaft, immersing me in the liquid furnace
of her sex.  The further I sank in, the more my sensitive cock bucked like
a wild bronco and my balls treacherously clenched, already precariously
close to the edge so, trying to distract myself, I nipped the back of her
neck, loving the downy hairs I found there almost as much as the way she
panted and wiggled.

   "It hurts," she whimpered.

   "I'm sorry, honey.  I should have prepared you better."

   She laughed, a melodious sound that thrilled me to the soul.  "I was
plenty prepared.  I'm dripping," she breathed, her voice low and throaty.
She accentuated her meaning by sassily wiggling her hips, an impossibly
sexy motion that made me grit my teeth to stave off the tumultuous orgasm
threatening to overwhelm me before I'd even begun making love to her.  "Can
you bite me again?"

   I barely heard her tentative question spoken in a tiny, little girl
voice.  But I did it, catching her shoulder in an open mouthed bite, sharp
enough to make her hiss her debauched pleasure, then I playfully spanked
her ass.  I loved the way her pinkened cheeks jiggled my swaying balls so I
did it again.

   "I could get used to that." She whispered, swishing her nipples on the
door.

   Did Mrs.  Lunsford have any idea how incredible she was?  I'd never
imagined such a refined and classy older woman like her to be such an
adventurously uninhibited lover but I'd wanted her nonetheless.  In fact, I
could hardly believe this was happening.  Despite the fact that I was still
enjoying occasional afternoons with Ethan and that I'd been masturbating to
decadently erotic fantasies of her, twice and sometimes three times a day,
I was still so perilously close to coming I wasn't sure I could contain it.


   Outside, the gusting wind whistled and a torrent of raindrops spattered
against the windowpane, hard and heavy.  The air was thick with a simmering
tension that echoed the bubbling need inside my loin, a molten heat that
threatened to erupt.  I groaned at my delectable conundrum, gritting my
teeth, waiting for the seething urgency in my balls to back off.  Mrs. 
Lunsford wasn't helping my shaky situation, her pussy gripping me in
luscious rippling motions, giving my pink-engulfed cock a practiced
squeeze. My balls pulsed in response, sending an inflammatory flare of
ferocious heat sweeping through my jutting shaft.

   Knowing that my ascent to orgasm was inevitable, I spread her ass cheeks
nice and wide as I slowly withdrew, staring down at the thrill-inducing
sight of my honey-lubricated shaft gliding between her slick, hairy labia.
She moaned her lascivious delight, tilting her back farther, opening every
morsel of tasty pink wetness to my view.  Sliding my hips all the way back,
I paused for a second and gazed down at my fully engorged cock, now
sheening with her sopping juices, the mushroomy glans splaying open her
pouty vulva flanking her hot, tight opening.  Then, flexing my ass, I
pushed myself inward in one smooth, deep stroke.

   No matter my hazardously-close situation, no matter that I was a virgin,
my first time being with the woman who had haunted my wet dreams for years,
I was determined to outlast Mrs.  Lunsford.  Circling my hands from the
swell of her hip to the front of her body, diving down low between her
bawdily open legs, I caught her by her sleek inner thighs.  My hold was up
high so it automatically split her pussy open with a wet squelch, opening
it to the air.  I glided my finger along the swollen nub of her vulnerably
exposed clitoris, hearing her breathing deepen and become erratic as I
caressed it.  As I slowly thrust into her cunny, I increased the pressure
slightly until both index fingers were coasting over her clit in small,
tight circles on every plunge.  She squealed out loud, an eager sound
spilling from her throat.

   "Oh my God!," Mrs.  Lunsford cried out, tossing her head back like a
wild mare, her shimmery auburn mane gliding across her shoulder blades. 
Reaching up, I captured a handful in my grasp, wrapping the around my
fingers as my other hand carefully kneaded her tender clit.  Yes ~~ yes,
she really liked that!  I could tell by the way she tugged lightly against
my restricting grasp, pulling her head forward just enough so she could
feel me holding her.  I tightened my restraining grip, tugging her ponytail
lightly, and was rewarded by a deep, hungry moan that very nearly sent me
spiraling over the edge.

   In truth, this wasn't the way I'd imagined it at all.  My fantasies of
my first time making love with Mrs.  Lunsford had been far more tender,
more romantic.  Long, heartfelt talks followed by gentle kissing, a slow,
almost hesitant exploratory foreplay filled with blushes and shy glances at
one another... in a word, lovemaking.  This was something completely
different.  Primitive.  Raw.  Primal.  Fucking.  I rubbed harder, playing
my strumming fingers over her swollen, hard clit as I reared back, sending
my big cock sledging into her juice-dripping cunny, bottoming her out.  Her
ass bobbled with the force of my ramming stroke and she moaned again, the
wordless sound higher now, taut with urgency.  Her greedy pussy clutched
me, sluttishly squeezing my penis as I pulled back out of her, sending a
shockwave of searing lust straight to my balls.  I growled, seeing crimson
flashes of vivid euphoria before my wondering eyes, and I rolled my hips
forward, burying myself so deep inside her creamy sex I wasn't sure where
my flesh ended and hers began.

   The all-consuming need inside me grew tighter, tighter still, spiraling
upwards with every thrust of my cock into Mrs.  Lunsford's silky, steamy
pussy.  I was hammering into her so fiercely that it almost hurt, but it
was what I wanted and what I sensed she needed, judging by her incessant
whimpers, sounding from high in her throat, and the way she lustily threw
her wriggling ass back at me, meeting me stroke for jamming stroke, driving
me in as deep as I possibly could go.  Some internal defense mechanism
crumbled under the crushing pressure of my violent lust, blotting out
everything else, hissing loud in my ears.  I threw my head back as I
aggressively plunged into her again and again and again, fucking her with
all the ravishing force I could summon, her unrestrained cries urging me
ever onwards.

   Mrs.  Lunsford was so creamily soft, so steamy hot, her sweet pussy
joyfully squeezing about me as hard and as rough as I hammered into her
with wild abandon, the succulent crush of her sex stealing my breath and
making me want to scream with wild delight.  I loved the dizzyingly
sensuous feel of filling her, splitting her open, almost as much as I loved
the way she strained back at me, her insatiable pussy swallowing my
rampaging manhood whole.  Her former gasps melted away into high-pitched
moans of joy, growing in volume and intensity with both the resounding
smacks of her scrumptious ass against my pistoning groin and the wet slap
of her delicious pussy hitting the base of my pounding cock.  Syrupy
moisture slurped over me, the lasciviously sloppy sound of her free-flowing
juices, her tangible arousal at what I was doing to her, shot like a
lightning strike straight to my balls.

   `God Damn, I'm going to come!' I thought woozily, my heart jackhammering
in my chest, feeling the rapturous sensations crescendoing, fiery darts of
cauterizing pleasure shearing through the fine string of my concentration,
shattering my self-control.  Wiggling my fingers between our bodies
undulating together in a primal dance, I caught her clitoris, rubbing my
fingers hard, plucking at the swollen nub, squeezing it.  She immediately
screamed, wailing over and over as she slammed backwards in a crazed frenzy
to take my full thick length, shuddering mightily as she reveled in the
long, rapacious paroxysms.  I was beginning to think she didn't have any
other kind, which was fine by me, lost as I was in her girlcum-innundated
pussy clenching around my engulfed cock, drawing, pulling, sucking me with
a lubricious intensity that made my eyes roll back and my
pleasure-submerged brain stall.

   Knowing Mrs.  Lunsford had reached her dazzling climax, I grabbed her
still-shimmying ass in both hands, spread it wide, and ramrodded my
fire-scorched cock deep into her convulsing passage.  My orgasm splintered
in a thousand glittery shards of scintillating ecstasy and an exultant
shout ripped from my heaving chest as I began to spasm, shooting my come
deep inside her.  The riotous blisses continued violating my reeling
senses, hot and searing and endless, inciting me to continue mindlessly
thrusting through wave after wave of creamy spurts erupting from my bucking
shaft into her sweet depths.  My fatigued heart strained like it would
rupture, the thrills surging through my veins now as caustic as acid, but I
continued to pound in, out, in, out, as her inner muscles gripped me
possessively, milking me of every drop until I was empty.

   Wheezing heavily, my entire body still trembling with the aftershocks of
the cataclysmic orgasm I had just enjoyed, I slumped forward, taking relief
in Mrs.  Lunsford's silken smoothness.  I felt utterly exhausted, wrung
out. As fun as my voyeuristic masturbation sessions had been, as wickedly
thrilling as my afternoons with Ethan had been, I'd never had a sexual
encounter as breathtaking as that.  Not ever.

   I felt Mrs.  Lunsford stiffen under me, heard her panting deepening, and
took comfort in her.  I was still buried deep in her warm body, my
deflating cock slowly softening among her nurturing softness.  It was so
easy for me to envision her, her classically beautiful face lax and flushed
with the euphoric aftereffects of orgasm, her lustrous auburn hair darkened
with gentle perspiration, those adorable bangs hanging in her eyes...

   Suddenly I realized the tremors rippling through her were the shaking of
crying and the sounds I heard were sobs, so raw and emotion-filled that for
a moment I thought her heart was breaking.  "Mrs.  Lunsford," I whispered
in my genuine concern, tenderly touching her hitching shoulders, terrified
that I had hurt her in some way.  "Are you alright?"

   She didn't speak, shaking her head no.

   "Mrs.  Lunsford," I asked again, trying to reassure her by stroking the
long curve of her back, bewildered by this outpouring.  "What's wrong?"

   With a violent jerk, Mrs.  Lunsford yanked away from me and whirled
around, an accusatory look in her eyes.  A gush of our comingled juices
spilled out of her and she looked down at the slippery fluids easing down
her thighs with contemptuous distaste.  Then she looked up at me, that
contempt aimed at me, tumultuous emotions flashing in her eyes, her lips
twisting in a feral snarl as she glared at me.  "Nothing's wrong," she
hissed icily, unconcealed repugnance contorting her every spitted word. 
"You got what you wanted, Sebastian.  Now get out."

   "What?" I was flabbergasted, could not understand for the life of me
what this was.  "Mrs.  Lunsford ~~"

   "I said GET THE FUCK OUT!" She screamed the words, virulent hate pouring
out at me.  The sheer malevolence she threw at me at this, the most
beautiful moment of my life, was like a vicious punch to the groin and I
literally staggered, feeling sick.  She took the opportunity to thrust past
me, running from the room, tugging at her dress as she stumbled up the
stairs.

   For a long time I stared up the stairs, wondering in my indecision
whether I should go after her, try to make her explain what this was all
about.  But I knew I didn't understand girls, much less grown-up women, and
her utter rejection of me made me feel nauseous and hollowed out.  I'd read
before about guys being discarded by their girlfriends, the feeling
described as her having reached into their chests and ripped out their
heart.  I now knew all too well, what they meant, a vicious emotional pain
so excruciating it bordered on physical agony.

   In my despair, I gave up, shamefully picking up my clothes, ineptly
trying to wipe myself off before tugging on my trousers and slinking out of
the Lunsford's front door, tucking my tail between my legs and running. 
The rain was coming down in blinding sheets and I stumbled over the slick
pavement, crashing to the ground.  With a savage curse I pulled myself up
and made my way to my car, strangely thankful for my fall because the
smarting bruises distracted me from the harrowing pain laying waste to my
soul.

   Eternally grateful that my parents weren't home, I staggered up to the
bathroom and slumped into the wall, trying to fight back the tears that
were streaming down my cheeks as I fumbled for the shower, peeled off my
clothes and stood under the cleansing spray.

   As I stood beneath the pounding spray, the water washing everything
away, it occurred to me for the first time that Mrs.  Lunsfords emotional
outburst was all about guilt.  The way she had been looking at the picture
of her husband showed she was still trying to deal with a profound grief
that had probably been consuming for the two years since her husband had
died.  But she was also a very sexual woman, evidenced by the adult
materials she stashed under her bed and the impassioned masturbation I had
had the privilege to secretly witness.  I also knew from what Ethan had
said that she hadn't dated since her husband's death and I might very well
have been the first man she'd had sexual impulses for.

   The lusty desire and fierce passion the two of us had experienced this
afternoon had been raw and all-consuming, a burning lust that had
undoubtedly terrified her as much as it had me.  When the fires had burned
down, the realization that she had just slept with a man outside of her
marriage for the first time in, what, twenty years, had probably filled her
with overwhelming guilt and shame.  What would her husband have thought of
her having sex with a teenager not even half her age?

   What Mrs.  Lunsford didn't grasp was that by fucking me, she didn't
betray her husband.  He was dead.

   I don't know how long I had been in that shower but I gradually realized
my skin had grown wrinkly and waterlogged all over.  When I stepped out of
the stall, outside everything had fallen silent, as if the world had drawn
in a breath and was waiting to let it out.  Drying myself, I stopped short
as my reflection caught her eye.  I turned to the mirror, staring at my
wan, ashen face.

   This was not my fault.  I had nothing but the best of intentions towards
Mrs.  Lunsford and she had screamed her deep-seated hang-ups at me.  I
hadn't done anything wrong.  In fact, it was I who, when realizing I didn't
have a condom, had pleaded with her.  Tell me to stop, Mrs.  Lunsford. 
Tell me to stop.  She hadn't.  Not only that, she'd grabbed my cock and
practically forced it inside her.  And then she'd blamed me.

   Climbing into bed, I lay staring at the ceiling, listening as heavy
drops of rain pattered on the roof, each one loud and distinct.  There was
a hush, then a second spate of raindrops, and then with a roar the rain
came down, hard and steady, drumming on the roof.  I snuggled deeper into
my blankets, thinking I would forgive her in a heartbeat but would I ever
get a chance to?  Was she irreparably damaged by her extended mourning? 
Was the difference in our ages, the innate difficulty in redeveloping a
relationship of 15 years into something more intimate, too much to
overcome?

   Or was her denunciation of me permanent, an utter rejection of me and
everything I was?

   Turning my head into the pillow, I sobbed.  Sobbed until the night faded
away around me and I slid into an exhausted sleep.