Message-ID: <59453asstr$1254787804@assm.asstr.org>
From: "Sarah B." <redrunninghood@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Victoria - Cliche Bored Suburbanite (1/3) (MF, older woman, hj)
Lines: 206
Date: Mon, 05 Oct 2009 20:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


This is another work of fiction.

~red~

Victoria - Cliche Bored Suburbanite

By my mid-thirties, my life had fallen into a predictable pattern of
exercise, a largely absent husband, and maintaining/building
appearances. Married to a highly successful, much older business man, I
was expected to play the role of the trophy wife, the keeper of the
home, and the brave wife who sacrificed children for her husband's march
up the fortune 500.

We lived on a fashionable crescent in a fashionable suburb of the big
Canadian city. It didn't matter where we lived, my husband's office was
on the road. That crescent ended up becoming my life and it hosted the
stories that changed my life.

Our next door neighbours were kind people named James and Cathy. They
had one child - an awkward, quiet kid named Jeremy. Jeremy had just
graduated from high school and was going to start university in the
fall. He was a bright kid, who had worked as a part-time computer
programmer since he was 16. Because of his shyness and his hobbies, he
spent most of his time alone, which was okay, we are all different.

He also had a crush on me.

A few years before, I discovered that he was
watching me work out in my backyard. Yoga has always been a passion and
I start mornings with at least 45 minutes. One morning, I noticed the
blinds in his room rustle a little bit and saw him pull away from the
window. Busted. I never said anything, but I also didn't stop working
out in my backyard. If anything, the attention was nice as it was more
than my husband granted me. It was nice to feel attractive...

Because of his work, Jeremy could not get away to go on vacation with his
parents.

His father bragged that his son was saving up enough money to buy a car
to make getting to University easier. However, despite his boasts, his
father was also deeply paranoid about his son. He and his wife gave me a
set of keys to their house and asked me to 'check in on Jeremy once in
awhile' while they were gone to Europe for six weeks. Truth is, I think
they were very glad that he was not going to be around for almost an
entire summer.

That is how I started going over to check on Jeremy.

Being 18, he had an affinity for big sound - I would often hear his
stereo pounding away when I walked up to his door. So, I could
justifiably enter (he might have been having a party) and look around.
He caught me a few times, but most of the time, I could sneak downstairs
to his 'office' in the unfinished basement and watching him tapping away
or playing games before letting myself out. When he caught me, I said,

"Your parents wanted me to make sure you weren't having any parties - I
heard the music and thought you were having a house wrecker!"

He seemed to buy that and thanked me. I baked him cookies every time he
caught me.

Three weeks in to my role as chaperone, and I was feeling very lonely.
My husband cancelled two straight trips home and was in Japan 'in
meetings' for the next three weeks. Mid-30s, no kids, no husband, nice
yard, exercise.

That was it.

One beautiful early August morning, I went outside, clad in skin tight
black shorts, a slightly loose, flimsy tank top, and no bra. I started
my routine, the normal way, with several sun salutations. His blinds
rustled and I knew he was up there, watching me. I hoped that my tank
top was loose enough to give him little peaks at my breasts.

An hour later and I was sweaty but tranquil and clear headed. My focus
was complete and pure as I walked inside, grabbed my usual post yoga
bottle of water and got hit with a devilish thought that I couldn't
shake. The thought grabbed me with such intensity that I broke my
morning routine, grabbed the keys to his place and went over to 'check
in on Jeremy'.

When I got to his house, the music was pounding and I could tell that he
was in his basement, in his 'office', in front of his computers. I snuck
in, desperate to be quiet and slowly crept downstairs, into his area...

The basement was designed with his programming in mind - he had a double
bed in one corner, with a television and DVD player on a stand at the
foot of it. There was a small fridge, several couches, another
television with an X-Box hooked up to it, a set of weights, and stacks
of books on weird programming things.

And there he was, sitting in the middle of it, in front of three large
monitors. My jaw dropped though to see two close up images of myself,
doing yoga on two of his monitors. The anger surged through me as I
realized he had not only been watching me, but filming me...from two
angles!

What if he put them online?

I angrier and started walking towards him, the loud, pulsing hardcore
music covered my steps and my sounds. Closer and closer, angrier and
angrier, I was ready to pounce and scream at him....

He must have heard me or something because all of a sudden, he stood up
and turned around. He was totally nude and had been masturbating - I was
so blinded by the images on the screens that I didn't realize what he
was doing to them.

I attacked him with venom, "You little fucking pervert!"

He was shocked to see me and immediately covered himself with a t-shirt
that he haphazardly thrown onto his desk. "M....M...Mi....Missus
Green..."

"You little pervert, I am calling the police..."

"No, please, I, I, I think you're beautiful."

"You are a freak! This, this is illegal."

"I never showed them to anyone Mrs. Green and nobody knows. Nobody is
worthy of your beauty Ma'am."

"Nobody but you, it seems?"

"Not even me, not even your husband. We are both observers." He trailed
off with a sad shrug and looked at me, "You are beautiful and perfect,
Ma'am."

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears, but I was no
longer sure whether it was from anger, or the fact that this was, sadly,
the most desired I had felt in the 13 years I had been married.

"Why do you film me and not your girlfriends? I am almost twice your
age."

He bit his lip and looked a little bit ashamed, "I don't have
girlfriends, and I never have."

"But you're a good looking guy...why not?"

"Women my age bore me, their prettiness is only skin deep. You move with
a beauty that only compares to the dance of the sun off of your body."

My anger faded more, "why would you record me with cameras though?"

"You did not complain when you saw me watching, I assumed you would be
okay if I documented your beauty. I am sorry, but I can not stop, you
are beautiful, but so sad."

I was shocked. Completely shocked, angered, flattered, aroused. Torn by
those feelings, but increasingly driven by my arousal. He was sexy in
his own scrawny, intense way. And he wasn't hurting anyone, and
besides...

"You are a virgin?"

He looked me in the eye, nodded and answered, "Yeah..."

Suddenly, it felt a little bit creepy, but that feeling was overcome
with a sudden boldness. Everything about this was so wrong, but the
feeling was right. So, I made an indecent, horrible proposal.

"Would you drop the t-shirt and let me see?"

He paused for a second while my question processed, then nodded his head
and took one more moment to make his decision. The shirt dropped to the
ground and he moved his hands aside so I could see his still slightly
erect penis.

"What do you think of when you watch me?"

"I think of how much I would like for you to touch me."

"Where would you like me to touch you?"

He bit his lip, "On my cock..."

That was all the encouragement I needed, I walked towards him, licked my
hand to lubricate it a little, then reached down and started giving him
a hand job as he stood in front of me. He moaned and his eyes rolled
back when I first touched his member.

"Oh my god, Mrs.Green...."

Our first encounter didn't even last minutes - my hand job caught him
unprepared and his body tensed up within five or six strokes. I could
tell what was going to happen, so I smiled and held one hand over the
tip of his cock while he ejaculated.

He stared into my eyes while he was cumming, then he seemed embarrassed.
"Oh god, Mrs. Green, I'm so stupid and so sorry."

I wanted to torture him, "Don't worry Jeremy, it was okay. But I should
be going." And I left...
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