“Looking good, Joe!” Amy taunts from the porch, almost startling me off the ladder.

Is it the Christmas lights I’m stringing up that she’s admiring? Or - yikes - my boner?

I've been absentmindedly humming “Stacy’s Mom" by Fountains of Wayne, changing it to "Amy's Mom" in my head. I was so lost in erotic thoughts of Amy’s mom as I worked that I didn't notice Amy herself watching me. And my boner.

Amy's boyfriend pulls into the driveway. “That’s one of Mom’s favorite songs, by the way,” she teases as she hops in his truck.

Shit. Busted. Well, at least Amy isn’t angry to learn I want her mom. Besides, I’m not dumb enough to think anything could ever happen.

Since Amy’s idiot dad ran off, I've been helping out around their house. Amy's mom is always grateful for my help, serving me a tray of cookies and a pitcher of iced lemonade when I mow their lawn. But sometimes she’s been bending down more than necessary while serving me treats, delivering a breathtaking downblouse view of more-forbidden goodies. I even caught a glimpse of nipple once.

I must have cum five times that night.

I ring the doorbell to let Amy's mom know I’m done, waiting a few minutes in the Christmas Eve cold. Apparently not expecting me to finish the job so quickly, she has raced up from the basement sauna wearing only a towel. Red-faced, her hair wild and stringy, with sweat drizzling down into her shadowy cleavage, she looks about a hundred degrees hotter than I feel.

She expresses alarm at my condition. "Oh my God, Joe, I’ll feel terrible if you catch a cold on my account. Please come warm up with some hot cocoa. You like it with lots of marshmallows, right?"

I nod, pondering sweet, supple, marshmallowy things. Then I order myself to stop imagining what's under the towel. Remember that boner? It's back.

As Amy's mom brings me the cocoa, her towel catches on the edge of the counter and falls to the floor. In a panic, she spills the steaming cup all over me as she spins away from me and picks up the towel.

So much for merely imagining her under the towel. I see boobs, nipples, bush, her hot, round mom ass ... even labia peeking out as she bends down for the towel.

“I’m so sorry, Joe,” she flusters as she rewraps herself and turns back toward me. “Are you burned?”

“No, ma’am. But I guess I'm a little warmer now.”

Regaining composure, she probes, "What warmed you up, Joe? The splash?" She giggles, playfully flipping the edge of her towel and revealing a thin strip of leg. "Or the flash?"

Unable to stammer out a reply, all I can do is hope I don't pass out from all the blood rushing to my face and my phallus at the same time.

“Listen, sweetie, you can't walk home in this cold with your pants all soaked. Why don’t you go warm up in the sauna while I wash them for you?”

“Um ... I don’t have anything to wear in there.”

“Oh, hon, you don’t wear anything in the sauna. Did you see a swimsuit under my towel?"

"Uh, no, ma'am.” I'm as stimulated as I am terrified, knowing exactly what’s under that towel.

“The sauna’s already warm, Joey. You just leave your clothes outside on the floor, and I’ll throw them in the wash while you warm up.”

The sauna quickly soothes my nerves. But the heat, the mental pictures of Amy's mom naked, and the very idea of me being naked in her house have my erection in turbo mode. I'm petrified that she might come in and see me like this ... but I'm also craving her more than ever. She couldn't possibly be interested in me, right? At eighteen, I'm not even half her age. I know I'm being ridiculous, but tell that to my dick.

I hear a creak, expecting her to ask through the cracked door how I'm doing, but instead the door swings wide. Amy’s mom breezes in, deftly removing her towel and placing it under herself as she sits down. I gasp in surprise.

“Don't worry, Joe," she says soothingly. "It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked.”

"Well, uh, yeah, but ... but you haven’t seen me like this.”

Eyeing my uncontrollable erection, she softly says, “No, Joe, I haven't." She leans forward, her breasts dangling enticingly as she places a hand on my knee. "But I'm glad I finally get to."

She kneels, running her hands up my sweat-slicked legs and then my chest, pulling my head to meet hers. She is much better at kissing than the teenage girls I've dated, which is as far as I've gotten with anyone.

“Are you starting to get hot, Joe?" she purrs. "Here's something nice and cooling.” She leans down, licking the sweaty drizzle of precum off my shaft. Amazingly, her tongue does feel cool compared to the hot sauna air. Seconds later, so does her mouth, her gaze never leaving my eyes as she brings me ecstasy I've never known.

Anxious to touch a woman’s body for the first time, I reach for her tits. “Joe, what I want from you right now is to just feed me your cum,” she insists while I throb helplessly. “I know you won't take long. And then, after that,” she predicts seductively before swallowing me again, “you'll have plenty of energy while I teach you how to please a woman.”

Within seconds I’m experiencing the most breathtaking and voluminous orgasm ever, Amy’s mom never taking her eyes off mine as she eagerly gulps everything my penis produces. As I lie back, panting, she exclaims, "Oops, hon, I forgot to start the washing machine!” With a smirk she adds, “That means we'll have even more time to enjoy each other today."