Original TWENTY YEARS OF INFIDELITY... Chapters One and Two (1 Viewer)

[campusvamp]

...out of nowhere Jason leaned over quickly and kissed me. If pressing his lips to mine for barely a second counted as a kiss. Jason pulled away slightly, waiting for my reaction. My mind went blank. I froze in place. Jason took my immobility as a green light and leaned in for a longer kiss. It sounds cliche but my surprise was complete and the rational side of my brain simply shut down. When I didn't pull away, he moved to press his lips harder to mine. When my lips softened, his hand went to my waist and pulled my body closer.

Even though I was only five years older than my teenage stepson, I was the adult in the room. I knew this was wrong. I should have pushed Jason away. Told him that we would just pretend nothing had happened. Promised him that I would never tell his dad. I should have done sooo many things except what I did. Instead of all the responsible things I should have done I relaxed against Jason's hard chest. I let the hand on my waist pull me tighter against his young body. My mouth softened more. My lips parted and I began returning his kiss...

Chapter One...

Some years ago, I was in a marriage. Nothing strange or unusual about that. Later I found out that my marriage was based not on love or even desire, but only on business considerations. Let me explain...

A couple of weeks after graduating from high school, I had an interview scheduled with Mr. Carter, in the HR department of a major international corporation for a receptionist position. I'd sit at a small kiosk facing the elevators on our floor of the corporate high rise. I'd answer phones, direct calls and visitors to their intended destinations all while dressing well, being polite and 'pleasant' -i.e. pretty.

When I mentioned this to my aunt, she nodded knowingly and gave me direct and honest advice.

"Vi (short for Violet) you have brains. But this job... Hell, a chimp could be trained to do it. So don't go in and try to impress that Mr. Carter with brains. God gave you more than just brains," Aunt Millie said with a meaningfully, long survey of my body. "A lot more. Use everything to get the job."

Blond and taller than every girl in high school, I've been called pretty since the boys I ran with as a child began to care less about my tree climbing ability and more in what was developing under my t-shirts. I understood what Aunt Millie was saying without words. Slender with long legs, a tight ass and big boobs, I wore a tight, short skirt and a blouse with maybe one unbuttoned button too many to my interview. My D-Cups are larger than average but not HUGE. But there are ways to enhance what nature has endowed a woman with.

Under my blouse I was wearing a push-up, demi cut bra. Strategically placed push-up pads sewn into the bottom of the bra and gel pads tucked out of sight on the sides of my tits did wonders to enhance my D-Cup boobs. Pushed up and together, my D-Cup tits magically became Double-Ds. That morning as I readied my tits for battle in front of my mirror, even I had to admire my cleavage.

When I leaned over his desk to hand Mr. Carter my resumé, I remained bent over long enough to let him have a good down-the-blouse interview with my tits... Large boobs versus a thin work resumé? I knew I had the job barely two questions into my interview.

I didn't care that my position as receptionist was barely three levels above that of an un-paid intern. I had an easy job with excellent benefits and earned a decent wage. I was young, living solo in a tiny, crappy apartment over a kosher butcher shop. I was free from parental oversight for the first time in my life. I dated frequently and screwed often. I was on top of the world!

Anyway, fast-forward about two years and a man was laterally transferred onto our floor from another division. He was supposedly on the fast-track to upper management. Someone had decided that experience in a different sector of the corporation would make his resumé look better. Early forties, Harvard educated, divorced, good looking and loaded with money, Hamilton was basically that older lawyer from the series Suits.

Gossip spreads faster than light in a vacuum. At his former position Hamilton had a reputation among the secretaries as a guy who tested the upward mobility of many of the female employee's skirts. He also had the reputation of stopping at playful banter and never holding a grudge if the skirts refused to rise. Hamilton was categorized as a good-natured horndog and not a chauvinistic cur when females gathered around the coffee pot.

It was inevitable that he would test my skirts soon after occupying his new office. See, it wasn't just the 'pretty' part of my job interview that I aced. I knew men and how to play their game but with my rules. With a dazzling smile I could turn on at the drop of a hat, I could disarm even the most disgruntled corporate drudge with a Napoleonic Complex who believed he'd been kept waiting too long for an appointment. So at first, I didn't give my skirt much upward mobility when Hamilton turned his attention towards me. But I also gave signals that my skirt wasn't stapled to my knees.

For two weeks I kept our back-and-forth banter mixed with innuendoes and invitations interesting before agreeing to go out. Our Friday night date was fun. Hamilton was interesting and charming. After two weeks of stringing him along, cocktails at the bar before dinner and wine during dinner helped me decide there'd been enough verbal foreplay and... Well, let me just say that a suite at a Five-Star hotel with hot and cold running room service isn't the worst place to have a long weekend fuck-fest.

For an old guy in his forties Hamilton's energy and stamina was incredible! The bed, the floor, against a wall: different positions. That Monday I sat behind my kiosk on a very used, abused and sore pussy: with a broad smile on my face.

Over the next several weeks we didn't date, we fucked. Quicky fucks at a nearby hotel during lunch hours. After work we'd often rendezvous in the same room on the same bed where we'd fucked during lunch. There were partial and full weekends where the sex was unhurried and very satisfying. On a night when Hamilton had to work late on some final nit-picking clauses in a contract, I returned to the empty office. Instead of a 'nooner', we had a 'midnighter' after I pushed the contract aside, sat on the edge of his desk and spread my legs to show that I wasn't wearing panties under my skirt.

Hamilton never asked to visit my tiny apartment, we never went to his house because of his teenage son. We always went to very posh hotels. Hamilton had loads more money than anyone I'd dated before. I won't insult anyone's intelligence by denying I was enjoying being wined and dined like never before. I was having great sex. I was having fun!

I wasn't an idiot. I fully expected Hamilton to break up with me at some point and move on to pursue other skirts. On my part it would be, 'Thanks for the memories and no hard feelings', when that happened.

One evening after three months of having fun, when Hamilton took me to a very exclusive restaurant, I assumed he was going to break off our long sexual marathon. I was ready to be understanding. I wasn't ready to be astonished when, while waiting for dessert, out-of-the-blue he asked me to marry him! I could only stare at him in astonishment over the table as he extended a five-carat diamond ring to me.

"You're kidding, right," was my first reaction. "Are you drunk?"

"Not even a little," Hamilton answered, still holding out the ring to me. "I'm not the kind of guy who hesitates. We are perfect for one another. You'll have to sign a pre-nup but I guarantee it will be generous."

Hamilton put the ring box down on the tablecloth and put three envelopes next to it. He'd come prepared. He'd actually brought three copies of the same pre-nup. One copy for me, one for Hamilton and one for his lawyer. I read all three copies carefully.

I won't deny it. The money listed in the pre-nup was the deciding factor. Like I mentioned, Hamilton had money. Loads of money. He'd inherited old-family money. A he-never-had-to-work amount of money. But he did work. He'd risen up the corporate ladder to a position where he made boat loads of more money. Even a not so generous pre-nup would be more money than I ever thought to have.

But true to his word the pre-nup I read carefully was very generous with only a few stipulations. If Hamilton filed for divorce and I'd been faithful, I'd receive the full amount of the pre-nup. If I filed for divorce for any reason within the first five years, I'd receive a much, much smaller settlement. If I had an affair at any time while married, I'd receive nothing.

"I caught my ex-wife having an affair. I never want to go through that again," Hamilton explained.

Basically? If I stay married and faithful for five years I could file for divorce and receive the full amount listed in the pre-nup. I'd be twenty-five and financially set for life if I invested well. Not yacht and private plane 'set' but not far off either.

I thought Hamilton was crazy and I told him so again. He just shrugged. I quickly weighed the pros-and-cons. He was a nice guy. He was pleasant company. He was a good fuck. He was offering me a shit-ton of money for limiting my pussy to only him for five years... I sure as fuck wasn't going to turn down life altering amounts of money when it was offered! Hell yea, I said YES.

I quit my job at Hamilton's insistence and that weekend we flew to Las Vegas and got married. We had a three-day honeymoon. Back in the city, for the first time I went to Hamilton's house and met my new stepson, Jason.

The house turned out to be a huge estate. There was a large pool and patio in the back. Inside the house every type of room was represented. A laundry room... A huge kitchen... A study for my new husband... A large living room for company... A den/entertainment room for family... Even a library. It was also very apparent that it was a house where two males lived. Not a single feminine touch.

Jason was sixteen and was a younger version of my husband. His muscles were still catching up to his frame after his last growth spurt. At a respectful 5'11", he was at that awkward stage where his boy-body was still morphing into a man-body. You could already tell that Jason would have the mature good looks of his dad.

Later, my husband turned out to be many things but stingy with money was never one of those. I hadn't needed a car while living in the city. I was now in a gated suburb and Hamilton bought me a BMW.

I mentioned that I'd like to add some touches to my new house to make it more like a home and less like a hotel. Hamilton handed me a credit card and told me to knock myself out.

"Make it nice but not gaudy. Someplace where guests will feel comfortable. I've never hosted a party for my co-workers. I think we should." Translation: Make it a place where we can shmooze my bosses.

When I said I needed clothes for a party we'd been invited to, Hamilton handed me another credit card without hesitation and told me to look pretty. Dresses for various occasions... Gowns for formal occasions... Heels to match the clothes... Sensible jewelry that I didn't splurge on still still added zeros to the totals... Hamilton didn't even blink at the amount.

"I just want you to look pretty."

We attended opera with co-workers. There were garden parties at partner estates. Pool parties and yacht parties... In addition to all the other occasions to gather, there was always another company party to celebrate promotions and retirements. And Hamilton wanted me to never wear the same outfit or dress twice.

I do love shopping and since Hamilton wanted me to never wear the same outfit twice, I went shopping almost every week. Hamilton shook his head at the first outfit I picked out. It was a simple sweater and, 'Next time pick something that shows some cleavage. That shows off your figure and some tit.' I guessed I couldn't be good arm candy unless I showed off my thin waist and D-Cups. Anything that showed lots of cleavage for his bosses to salivate over was fine with Hamilton.

Between showing off my assets to Hamilton's co-workers and bosses, I became responsible for handling the monthly bills. Hamilton made arrangements that ten-thousand dollars a month was deposited into my checking account. Sure, I had to pay for pool upkeep, yard service and the utilities of a large house but really? Ten thousand! A month! I always had several thousand dollars left over that Hamilton never asked about.

Sorry about going on-and-on about money but I was raised in a lower middle-class household. I'd graduated to a small apartment and now I was living in a huge estate. I felt like Ellie May from The Beverly Hillbillies.

My first couple of weeks were occupied with moving in and adjusting to my new life. The next several months was pre-occupied by redecorating the house into a more welcoming home. At first, I thought Jason might give me trouble. After all I was barely five years older than him and someone he'd never met. Now I was in his home as his new stepmother. I wouldn't have blamed him if he saw me as an invader. Instead, he was perfectly nice. Helping me paint walls something other than the generic white that was on every wall. Jason went with me to pick out new furniture. I let him have the final say in picking out the new furniture for our den/family room. Everything seemed perfect. At least for the first nine or ten months.

Because I was busy getting adjusted to my new living conditions and redecorating, it took me awhile to realize just how much relations with my husband had begun to deteriorate. Hamilton was still a great guy and really nice but... Yea, but... But sex with my husband had steadily decreased from three or four times a week to once or twice. Then to once a week. Then to a quicky on Saturday mornings before Hamilton left for golf at the club. The month we celebrated our One-Year Anniversary there'd been nothing...

I'm a healthy young woman who likes, loves, sex. Just as important as the missing sex was the missing passion when we did have sex. Hamilton seemed to act as if fucking me was just something to do and to do quickly. Oral sex became non-existent. Doggy position stopped. Sex became straight missionary while... Honestly, it felt like my husband was just using me as a masturbatory toy. He became completely uncaring for my satisfaction.

At least the sex was easy. All I had to do was lie on my back, spread my legs and fake noises as if I was enjoying every thrust. Hamilton could have fucked me in my sleep for all the sexual satisfaction I received. After he would come in me, I'd do a quick cleanup in the bathroom before going to make breakfast while he showered before leaving for his golf date.

What the fuck was going on? Hamilton began having to work late more-and-more often. Thinking Hamilton might be having trouble at work I finally called a friend I'd made at work and asked. He didn't, but...

"Look, he's been screwing every female he can convince to drop her panties. Lately he's been disappearing from work with a new hire like he did with you."

I didn't like the news but I did appreciate my friend's honesty. All became clear. That explained all the evenings he was 'working late'. It also explained the 'why' he wasn't having sex with me while we should still be in the honeymoon stage of sex, sex and more sex. He was wearing out his cock in another woman's pussy. Everything became even clearer as I talked more with my brutally honest friend who'd known Hamilton for years.

"Honestly, Vi. I have no idea why he married you. He always dropped out of a relationship within a couple of months before moving on to chase after a new skirt."

Damn, now I really began to understand. My husband had a 'kink'. I'd even read about this in a book which explained BDSM and other lesser-known kinks like toe sucking and foot worship. Hamilton's kink was to need the excitement of 'the chase' to get his motor running. I'd been chased and for some reason he'd married me. He no longer had to chase me. My pussy was safe at home. I no longer gave Hamilton the excitement he wanted. No chase required, therefore no excitement. No passion. Dammit! Why the fuck couldn't my husband have a normal perversion? Something like toe-sucking. I'd let him suck my toes for days if he wanted.

So now I understood Hamilton's disinterest in fucking me. For Hamilton, familiarity bred boredom. Just because I understood it didn't mean I accepted it. I tried many ways to keep our sex life spicy. Sexy lingerie? That's nice... Moving under the bed covers to wake him up by sucking his cock? Sorry, I've got early meetings I just have to get to. Maybe tomorrow night? Anal sex... Bondage... Mock rape... I offered everything except inviting his current girlfriend to join us. Nothing worked! I finally gave up trying. For my satisfaction I turned to buying vibrators in various sizes.

I still couldn't figure out the 'why he married me' though. Why the hell had Hamilton asked me to marry him? That, I would discover later...

I gave serious thought to my situation. I didn't love Hamilton with the overwhelming, 'If I can't have him, no one can!' kind of passion. I could live with Hamilton having affairs as long as he didn't bring home a STD. Why? Honestly? I'd grown accustomed to my lifestyle and didn't want to lose it. I lived in a large, beautiful house. I had a new car every year. I went shopping almost every week for new clothes because Hamilton didn't want me to wear the same clothes to the next party or event. So I decided, 'Screw it!' I had less than four more years before I could file for divorce and get what I began to consider as my severance pension. As if I was retiring from a job. Which is what my marriage had become.

Plus, I'd already invested over a year of my life into this charade. 'Surely I can live with anything for another four years,' I thought. I was wrong...

It was a week before my second wedding anniversary when, while I was changing the sheets on Jason's bed, I discovered a nudie magazine under the mattress. I thought nothing about it. What straight teenage boy doesn't jerk off to fantasies inspired by pictures of beautiful women?

I sat on the bed and began leafing through the pages. I could admire beautiful women, too. It was while I was looking at the fold-out centerfold that Jason walked in, sweaty and still out of breath in a t-shirt and athletic shorts. Jogging around the neighborhood had become a regular thing since he'd joined his school's track team. I hadn't heard him arrive back home. I didn't know who was more embarrassed. Me caught looking through a nudie magazine or Jason caught having a nudie magazine.

I got over my embarrassment first and patted the bed and told Jason to sit. I shifted to put more distance between us.

"Look," I said reasonably. "We can't get any more embarrassed than we already are, so if you have any questions about sex, just ask me. Believe me, I was just as confused about sex when I was about your age. I promise I'll answer everything honestly and without judgement."

I never in my life believed that I'd be the one explaining the finer points of sex to a boy almost my age, but I tried my best. I should explain that this was in the early, early 2000s before the internet with porn channels became readily available. Back then boys and girls were left with magazines like the one I was holding, DVDs from Blockbuster, stories from more experienced friends and 'the talk' by responsible parents.

The next few minutes proved that Hamilton hadn't done his duty by having 'the talk' with his son. I skipped the 'birds-and-the-bees' and instead went straight to the IKEA way. You know, 'Peg A fits into Slot B this way and then...' I tried my best to answer each bashful question and gradually we got more open with each other. And, boy-oh-boy did Jason have questions. Sex... Oral sex... Different positions... How to check if a girl is wet and ready... The importance of taking your time at first and don't just ram it home...What excited a woman...

To wrap things up I said that I would respect the privacy of his room from now on, but it would be his responsibility to clean his room, bring his dirty laundry to the hamper in the laundry room and make up his own bed after today. I even promised to buy condoms for him if he promised to use them when the opportunity presented itself. We both laughed when I told him I was way too young to be a grandmother. I wrapped up my Sex 101 tutorial by folding out the centerfold to show Jason...

"...And don't expect all women to look as perfect as these airbrushed models," I said as I held up the picture.

"Oh, I don't know," Jason said hesitantly. "You're not airbrushed and you're pretty perfect."

The next couple of minutes changed both our lives significantly. I sat motionless, blushing at the unexpected compliment. I'd just opened my mouth to stammer out a thank you when out of nowhere Jason leaned over quickly and kissed me. If pressing his lips to mine for barely a second counted as a kiss. Jason pulled away slightly, waiting for my reaction. My mind went blank. I froze in place. Jason took my immobility as a green light and leaned in for a longer kiss. It sounds cliche but my surprise was complete. The rational side of my brain simply shut down. When I didn't pull away, he moved to press his lips harder to mine. When my lips softened, his hand went around my waist and pulled my body closer.

Even though I was only five years older than my teenage stepson, I was the adult in the room. I should have pushed Jason away. Told him that we would just pretend nothing had happened. Promised him that I would never tell his dad. I should have done sooo many things except what I did. Instead of all the responsible things I should have done I relaxed against Jason's hard chest. I let the hand on my waist pull me tighter against his young body. My mouth softened more. My lips parted and I began returning his kiss.

 

[campusvamp]

Chapter Two...

Okay! I admit it! I should have pulled away. I should have ended the kiss. I should have done so many things except lean into the kiss and melt against Jason's body. Completely unacceptable on my part. Jason kissing me? A spur-of-the-moment bad decision by a horny teenage boy that could be laughed off and put behind us. Though I was only five years Jason's senior, I was the adult and my returning his kiss? A terrible decision on my part.

I can only explain my actions by pointing out that I'd been on a starvation diet when it came to attention. For months, there'd been no interest, no passion from my husband. I couldn't remember the last time my husband had gone down on me. I hadn't had an orgasm in over a year except for what I coaxed from one of my vibrators. Achieving satisfaction from a battery powered hunk of buzzing plastic when I was alone in the house wasn't my idea of a healthy sex life.

Some sanity began to slowly return to me. But when I pulled away enough to whisper that we needed to stop, Jason ended my objection by moving with me, pulling me closer as his mouth found mine again. Muscles in the arm circling my waist flexed and molded my body tighter to his. Jason was practically vibrating from his need. It had been so very long since I'd felt a man want me like this. I was finally receiving the passion I'd been deprived of for so long. I completely lost the will to want Jason to stop.

I put my hands on Jason's shoulders to pull myself up to meet his mouth better. Our kisses were sloppy at first, but got better fast. Our lips softened, our mouths opened wider as our tongues met. We exchanged increasingly wet kisses for a long minute. I had my arms wrapped tight around Jason's neck... Christ! I was practically climbing him as my arms pulled me up to mold and rub my body against his.

I hummed in anticipation when I felt Jason's hand on my waist move hesitantly up my side. His palm touched and stilled against my side-boob. When I didn't pull away his hand moved again. I moaned a long, throaty sound of approval when his hand captured my breast. I couldn't help myself. I pushed my breast into his palm. God, it felt so good to have my tit played with again.

My body had been ignored for so long! I pushed my tit harder into Jason's hand. Fingers flexed to sink into my soft flesh. Jason seemed content to enjoy playing with a tit for the first time in his life. But I wanted more than being felt up through my shirt and bra.

I pulled away. Jason started to pull me back but stopped when I gripped my shirt and pulled it over my head. Shaking out my hair, I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra. Bra joined my shirt on the floor and Jason saw tits for the first time that weren't on a magazine page.

I felt like a teenager again in the front seat of my first boyfriend's car as Jason reached out to touch my breasts. His soft, 'They're so soft,' came only a moment before he leaned to suck on my nipples. Jason massaged my large tits while taking turns sucking on one nipple then the other. I wanted more. I put my hands over his and pressed his fingers deeper into my soft flesh.

"Harder. Don't be afraid of hurting me," I moaned.

Fingers began gripping and pressing more energetically into the soft flesh of my large tits. Manipulating... Squeezing... Pinching my nipples tighter between his index finger and thumb. I love rough tit play. My moans of enjoyment led Jason to squeeze and pinch and suck harder. Fuck! It all felt so good after weeks and months of my husband ignoring my body.

Jason began acting with more confidence. Small movements that I followed put me on my back. Hands played with my tits while Jason sucked hard on my nipples until they ached. I moaned from pleasure. Thinking he'd hurt me, Jason stopped and pulled away. With soft words of reassurance, I rested my hand on the back of his head and pulled his mouth back to the nipple he'd been nursing from.

"You're not hurting me," I whispered to reassure him. "It feels good. Don't stop."

I couldn't stop my sighs and soft moans. I closed my eyes to simply enjoy as Jason took turns nursing from one breast, then the other. Jason moved onto his side, half on the bed and half on top of me as his lips returned to my mouth. His touch was no longer tentative. A possessive hand now played with my tits as we kissed.

Jason's mouth began tracing a slow path from my mouth to my neck, to my nipples and back.

The warm breath and soft lips on my sensitive neck dispelled all my remaining thoughts of ever asking him to stop. I'd been starved for attention for too long. I was needy. I was wet. I felt empty and it wasn't food I wanted to fill me.

Jason hadn't touched me yet below my navel. My inexperienced stepson didn't want to risk crossing a boundary that might end what he was doing already. But I wasn't inexperienced. I knew what I wanted. My pussy was drenched, aching to be touched.

To let Jason know that I wanted his touch, I pushed an arm between us and let my hand run over the crotch of his loose gym shorts. I found the hardness beneath the thin material and gripped it as best I could in my fist.

I'd signaled my readiness to be touched in the most direct way I knew. But Jason's hand was still slow and tentative as it moved down my stomach. My breath caught as abdominal muscles jumped under his hand. I opened my legs in anticipation. I tightened my grip on the back of Jason's head and pulled his mouth tighter to my nipple. Muscles loosened in my gut and my groans were deeper and louder as I felt his palm reach and settle on my mound. Fingers pushed between my thighs.

"Oh... My... God," the words came out strangled as Jason began lightly manipulating my pussy lips. Fingers circled over my pussy, pulling and pushing my pussy lips. I wanted more... Needed more stimulation...

"Harder, Jason. Finger me harder."

Jason did as I ordered. I'd soaked the crotch of my panties. The silky material slid easily over my wet pussy lips. Fingers explored the length of my slit. I gasped when circling fingers pressed and my clit began receiving the attention I'd wanted for so long from my husband.

Jason wasn't experienced. He wasn't aware of what he was doing but what he was doing was exactly what I wanted! The movements of his fingers manipulating my pussy lips became surer... My moans came from deep in my throat; guttural sounds interspersed with gasps as the pressure on my clit increased. My thighs opened more. My hips began moving to push my pussy into Jason's questing fingers.

I pulled Jason's lips back to mine. I kissed him hard in my attempt to signal him to press harder between my legs. My hips continued their slow, unconscious movements under Jason's hand. My breath caught and my moans came faster. He couldn't feel how wet I was through my jean shorts, but I knew. I hadn't been this wet in what seemed like ages.

"There... There... Harder... Down... Harder... Harder," I moaned as I began giving my stepson his first instructions on where and how to finger a pussy.

Jason's fingers moved with more confidence under my guidance. His mouth continued to move from my nipples to my neck and then back to my tits. But I hadn't been idle while Jason played with me. I was exploring what was between his legs just as he was exploring between my legs. The more I explored... The more my fist moved from the base of his cock and up and up towards the tip, the more my brain fog cleared and... Holy Fuck! Is it really as big as it feels?

Was it the material of his shorts that made his cock seem so thick? Was my hand measuring the shaft correctly? I had to find out. Curiosity warred against my desire to let Jason's fingers continue playing between my legs. Curiosity won. As good as what Jason was doing, I pulled the hand between my legs away and moved to extricate myself from under him. Jason tried to stop me, thinking I was about to stop everything we were doing; that I was going to leave.

But I wasn't leaving. I was taking this to the next level, but on my terms. Now it was my movements putting him on his back.

"Don't move," I commanded, pressing his shoulders to the mattress when he tried to raise up. Obediently he stilled under my hands.

Straddling his legs, my breasts were exposed to his sight and in easy reach. Like a baby reaching for something shiny, Jason reached for them, but I pushed his hands away.

"It's my turn to play," I told him. I had the experience Jason lacked and I knew what I wanted! I heard Jason's breath catch as my hand moved under and up the leg of his loose gym shorts.

"Oh, shit!" Jason's soft expletive came as my hand closed over hard cock. I began slow stroking the shaft from the base to the tip. At the base the shaft felt as thick around as my wrist. The shaft tapered off only a little as my hand moved slowly towards the tip. A slow and long, long move. Fuck! I needed to see what my touch was telling me!

I gripped the waistband of the gym shorts. The elastic was easy to pull down. Jason's hips moved up from the mattress to help me pull his shorts down. The tip of his cock appeared. Then more cock... Then more in a slow reveal as I continued to pull on the shorts. I released the shorts once I had them around Jason's thighs. Holy fucking shit! It took me a long moment to take in what I was seeing.

I've dated men with really nice cocks. My husband has a cock that's a little above average. But somehow my average sized husband and his ex-wife had produced a boy with the largest cock I'd ever seen in all my fucking around! This baby looked at least two inches longer and much thicker than the biggest cock I'd fucked up till now. My hand moved to grasp and slow stroke the shaft.

Jason was lying deathly still as I stroked. Probably afraid that he might do or say something to make me stop. The tip was circumcised. The bulb was a deep purple. I's already milked a drop of pre-cum from the tip. The drop grew larger as my hand continued to milk the shaft. I didn't stop to think. My hand pointed the tip up as I leaned forwards to lick the tip clean.

I liked how Jason moaned and tensed at the touch of my tongue. I took the tip between my lips. Jason's gasp fueled my desire to play. I ran my tongue down the side of the shaft until pubic hair scratched my cheek. Jason had been out jogging. Sweating... The scent of his crotch was strong in my nose. Sweaty balls... Musk... Pungently Male!

I disconnected my brain and acted on autopilot, parting my lips and taking the large bulb of Jason's cock into my mouth. I rolled my tongue over the sensitive tip before I took more of him into my mouth. Of all the cocks I'd sucked, none had filled my mouth like this.

I opened my mouth as wide as I could, letting more and more cock slide over my tongue. I felt the soft tip flatten hard against the back of my throat. I had all the cock that would fit in my mouth in this position. My God, there was at least half of that thick cock still outside my lips for my hand to stroke.

I held Jason in my mouth for several long moments. Listening to his breathy moans as I rubbed my tongue against the sensitive underside of his cock. I began bobbing my head over his crotch. Hearing his groans, knowing I was giving him his first blow job excited me. As I let his cock slide between my lips, I tried to take just a little more of his shaft into my mouth with each downwards push of my head.

I lifted my head, letting Jason's shaft slip from my lips. I rose up and balanced on a locked arm. My other hand continued to stroke his cock as I tossed my head to move my hair out of the way. Jason propped himself up on his elbows to meet my eyes.

"Do you like this?"

"God, yes," he whispered back.

"You have a really big cock," I said.

"I do?"

"Yea, you do," I answered, then lowered my head and ran my tongue slowly up the long shaft while Jason watched. I smiled at his moan and continued to lick just the very engorged, deep purple bulb.

"Do you want me to do that again?"

"Fuck, yes," Jason groaned.

Straddling Jason's legs, I molded my mouth around the large bulb again. I licked and played with it before, inch by slow inch I took more cock between my lips. My hair fell like a curtain that hid what I was doing from Jason's sight. I felt his hand move my hair aside so he could watch me as I continued to suck his cock. I kept my eyes locked onto his as I bobbed my head faster over his crotch.

I've throated large cocks. But only when I'd been on my back, my head hanging over the side of a bed. Unlike now, my mouth and throat had been in alignment. In the position I was in now I couldn't force the tip of Jason's cock past the back of my mouth. I stopped trying and increased the speed of my sucking mouth.

I been so intent on how much cock I could suck, I hadn't paid attention to how my mouth action was affecting my young stepson. I'd forgotten that Jason lacked the control of other lovers I'd had. Other more experienced lovers...

But Jason wasn't experienced and I'd brought him faster than I thought I would. In truth, I hadn't even been trying to bring him. I'd been playing! I'd forgotten the fact my stepson was a very excited virgin getting his cock sucked for the first time. Well, my playtime was about to produce results... Results of a wet, physical kind.

I'd let men cum in my mouth. I clamped my lips tight just below the head and increased the speed of my hand stroking the shaft. Jason's hips pushed up, forcing more cock into my mouth. He groaned just as hot cum splashed against the back of my mouth.

Stream after stream of cum filled my mouth. My lips clamped tighter around Jason's shaft. More and more cum coated my tongue. Cock pulsed until, with gradually weakening contractions, Jason's balls finally emptied.

The taste and consistency of what Jason left in my mouth wasn't as strong or slimy as I'd always thought it would be when I was a cum-virgin. Too watery to be slimy. A little salty, a little bitter: more like a sour metallic aftertaste. Hell, it was cum. I can't think of anything that tastes like cum except more cum.

My lips continued to press hard around the shaft to prevent cum from escaping, I slowly slid my lips up Jason's cock while my hand milked the last drops of cum from his shaft. Only one drop of cum escaped as I let the tip slip from my mouth.

Sitting up I shook my hair out of the way. I looked down at Jason. His eyes never wavered as he watched my tongue play with his cum before I swallowed and licked my lips clean. Dipping my head, I sucked his cock clean of the cum that had escaped from my lips.

Now, with the lingering taste of Jason's cum in my mouth, I returned to the real world. My mind started working again. The sexual excitement that had hijacked my rational thinking faded. Looking down at my still excited stepson I had a real 'Oh-Shit!' moment. As the meme says, 'It was at that moment, she knew she'd fucked up!'.

Looking at the cock still had in my hand, I realized I'd dived headfirst into a deep, deep pool of shit. I quickly released Jason's cock, dismounted his thighs and scooted to the edge of the bed. I couldn't look at him as I put on my t-shirt. Jason caught the hint that playtime was over. I felt the mattress move behind me as Jason pulled his shorts up as I pulled my shirt down.

'Holy FUCK! I've fucked up big time,' I continued to mentally chastise myself as I picked up my bra from the floor. I scrubbed my face with my hands as if I could wipe away the memory of the last twenty minutes. I stood up and moved away from the bed when Jason moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside me. I pressed the palms of my hands against my temples and began to pace back-and-forth in the space between the bed and the wall. I kept my eyes down, unable to even glance at my stepson.

"Jesus Christ!!! What the fucking Hell was I thinking," I asked myself in a strangled groan.

"What's wrong," asked the clueless and recently sexually satisfied teen. Of course HE didn't realize the trouble I was in, both morally and financially!

"What's wrong," I exclaimed finally turning to look at Jason. He didn't look worried. He looked like he wanted another blow job. "Holy shit, Jason! I'm married to your dad! When he finds out, I'm gone. Finito! Eighty-sixed... I'll be lucky if he doesn't shoot me."

"Hey, I'm not gonna tell him and if I don't and you don't," Jason said reasonably and shrugged. He was far calmer than I felt. "Who's left to tell him."

"Jason, what we... What I just did wasn't right! I'm married. To your dad. I'm your stepmother," I spelled out in words that even he could understand.

Jason seemed to consider what I'd said and shrugged again.

"So what?"

"So what!?"

"Yea. So what," Jason repeated. "You don't love my dad, and he doesn't love you. He only married you to get his next promotion. So... So what if we have fun?"

"Wait..." I slowly processed what Jason had said. "What promotion?"

"I thought you knew," Jason sounded surprised. "His bosses look for stable family men and women to promote to management positions higher than what he is now. Marriage means stability to his bosses and gives him a leg up on the competition. He looked around for a pretty wife and he choose you."

I stood absolutely still. I felt like someone had hit me from behind with a two-by-four. It all made sense to me now! Why Hamilton had married me! He'd wanted pretty arm candy to impress his bosses. What I thought were dates had actually been job interviews. I seemed easy going. I looked good on his arm. He'd watched me smooth the ruffled feathers of disgruntled employees so he knew I could shmooze his bosses during company parties.

I'd passed his job interviews, so he'd asked me to marry him. Even the time limit on the pre-nup made sense now. Hamilton knew that if he didn't get his promotion within five years he never would. He wouldn't need me after five years. He'd divorce me, pay me and wave goodbye to me. It all made sense in a strategic, cold-blooded way.

"How do you know this," I asked.

"I heard him talking over the phone to some of his friends... And I read the pre-nup."

"How did you read the... Did you snoop through my things?!"

"What? No! I looked in Dad's home safe. I cracked the combination years ago. It's my birthday just backwards."

I continued to stand motionless beside the bed. I couldn't concentrate. My mind kept flitting from one thought to another. I had too much I needed to think about coming at me too fast. But when I felt Jason's hand on my arm, I had one thing I could concentrate on. I moved awa.

"No! We can't do..." I waved my hand at the bed. "We can't do that again."

"Why not," Jason asked. Like any teenage boy his brain was fixated on sex. "I liked it and I think you liked it, and Dad will never know."

I didn't answer immediately. Hell, off the top of my head I didn't know the answer to 'Why not?' myself. I fell back to practical considerations.

"Your dad will be home soon. I have to finish supper. I'll... I need to think about all this."

I practically ran from Jason's bedroom to my room. I had to close and lock the door to stop Jason from following me like an eager puppy. Dammit! This was so messed up! Damn, I tossed my soaked panties in the clothes hamper. I ran my fingers though my slit. I was so fucking wet! I felt the emptiness inside me wanting to be filled. I felt all my pent-up sexual desire...

Leaning against my bedroom door I continued fingering my pussy. I pushed another finger between my thighs, sliding both in the slick wetness of my slit. I wanted to lie on my bed and masturbate to orgasm. I wanted to return to Jason's bed to fuck. But it was getting close to the time my husband would arrive home. I pulled my fingers from my dripping pussy. They were covered with thick grool.

I hurried into my bathroom to clean up. I pushed my juice-soaked panties to the bottom of the laundry hamper where my husband would never see them. After changing into clean panties and clothes, I settled my nerves by doing a quick touch up of my makeup.

Jason was waiting for me in the kitchen. He usually did his homework at the table so we could talk while I cooked. But today as I started supper, he was following close behind me step-for-step. His arms trying to capture me. Hands reached for my tits. I tried to make him behave. I pushed him away time after time. Telling him to stop... I don't believe he believed me. Hell, I didn't believe myself!

I was enjoying myself as much as Jason was. It was fun dodging hands and slipping from arms that tried to capture me. It was like I was sixteen again and out on a date with a grabby boyfriend. I tried not to show that I was enjoying myself, but my escapes came slower each time I was caught. My hands pushing Jason away lost their strength. Each time Jason caught me I remained in his grasp longer. I allowed hands to massage my tits longer.

This was everything that I'd wanted my husband to do.

I gave up pushing Jason away. I closed my eyes and leaned back against his chest. My eyes closed as I felt him unzip my slacks. But in the kitchen rational thought came quicker to me than it had in Jason's bedroom. Jason's fingertips were just starting to push under the elastic band of my panties when I realized how late it was. Fuck! What the hell am I doing!

If Hamilton parked in the driveway we wouldn't know he was home until he walked through the front door. No way my husband wouldn't miss seeing that his wife and son had been playing grab-ass. This time I used real strength to pull Jason's hands from my pussy and tits. Breaking away from Jason, I zipped up my pants while fending off hands.

I finally had to use my sternest 'Mom voice' to make him sit at the table where we took most of our meals. Jason sat but looked ready to pounce at the slightest suggestion of my will weakening. I told myself it was to settle my nerves and began gulping down wine while we waited for my husband to come home. I poured Jason a glass to kill the bottle and handed him another bottle to open while we waited.

It finally got so late that I began to wonder if Hamilton had a meeting he hadn't mentioned. Hamilton didn't answer his office phone. Knowing he often had late meetings, I called my work friend. George was reluctant at first, but he finally admitted that my husband had left early with his latest conquest. I hung up and fumed in silence.

Jason had listened to my side of the conversation. He picked up on my mood.

"Dad's out with another woman again, isn't he?"

"Yea," I replied in a flat, toneless voice. Not wanting to talk about it.

Lately Hamilton had gotten sloppier in trying to keep his assignations secret from me. Longer hours 'working'. Longer absences on the weekend. No one needed twelve hours to play 18-holes of golf. He'd become lazy with hygiene, too. He'd begun coming home smelling of perfume that wasn't mine.

He knew that I knew. I knew that he knew. We were both past caring. He thought there was nothing I could do without losing a large amount of money. If I divorced him, I lost money. He thought my hands were tied by the pre-nup. In Hamilton's eyes, my continued silence each time he came home with the scent of another woman clinging to him only confirmed my impotence. At the same time, I knew he wouldn't divorce me as long as he was in line for a promotion.

I stood by the stove getting madder and madder. Unless I was ready to lose a shit-ton of money, I felt as if I was an inmate in a prison. I had three more long years of this shit before I got my release and my money! It was while I poured myself another glass of wine that a solution presented itself.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander," I mumbled, unaware I'd said that aloud.

"What," Jason's ears perked up.

"Nothing. Just thinking to myself," I answered. But in truth I'd made my decision. There was no way in hell I was going three more years with just a vibrating piece of plastic pleasuring me! If my husband was going to fuck around, then I was going to fuck around, too. I just needed to be sneaky in finding a secret lover... Preferably a secret lover with a large cock and fuck morality!

If I went outside the house for sexual gratification, I ran the very real chance of being discovered. If caught in an affair I lost all the money per the pre-nup terms. This town was a hotbed for gossip. If I went out to find cock, I'd have to drive a hundred miles away to find a lover without being discovered. If I went out...

But what if I remained in... I sipped more wine and looked across the kitchen at Jason. I began to grin. I knew exactly where I could find a secret lover with a large cock!