It was the summer between my first and second year at college. In June, my Mom came up with an idea that would let me make a little money, do a good deed, and get my lazy ass out of the house—a win-win for everybody. Her recently-divorced friend from church, Sharon, needed minor repairs on her old, boxy two-story house. Her husband had taken care of everything, and he was gone. So I called Sharon for directions, put some tools in the trunk of my rusty green Ford Maverick, and drove the seven miles to her place near the river.

Sharon was in her mid- to late-30s, a little taller than me, soft-spoken, with long, light-brown hair, a high forehead, and a worried expression. She couldn’t pay me very much. Could I fix the chain for the screen door? And maybe put in a new light switch in the kitchen? I had assured her I could do both jobs, and I privately decided to do them for free.

As I worked that first day, Sharon checked on me frequently. Did I have everything I needed? Would I like a glass of water, or a can of soda? I had politely declined, and soon Sharon seemed to sense that I just wanted to finish the repair with fewer interruptions. The girls came to the fridge a couple of times for soda or a popsicle, but never said a word or hinted they knew I was there.

The older daughter, Toni, who was seventeen, had her Mom’s long brown hair, while Tessa, sixteen, was blonde and slim. You could tell Tessa tried to keep her hair straight like her sister’s, but the heat and humidity had other ideas, so she had the sexiest little curls.

I was able to get the screen door fixed pretty quickly. As I was putting my tools away, a car horn honked outside. Tessa came pounding downstairs, sounding like a buffalo in hiking boots, to go swimming with a friend. As she went out the door I was rewarded with the sight of a sweet little ass in faded cutoffs, with a flash of orange from her bikini bottoms visible through a hole by the hip pocket, and a thin white T-shirt, with the orange bikini top clearly visible underneath. All topped off with that unruly bright-blonde hair. Tessa didn’t quite get the door closed as she rushed out, so I walked over and gently closed it. Jesus, I thought. That little glimpse of orange got to me. I am earning my pay today—all zero dollars of it.

That night, I lay in bed naked, too hot for shorts or a sheet. Images from the day kept coming back to me. Stolen glimpses. Half-formed, forbidden thoughts. I wanted to be at Sharon’s old house, instead of in my childhood bedroom in my parents’ suburban Cape Cod. After my cock had been pointing at the unseen ceiling for an hour, I dribbled a few drops of oil on the head and proceeded to jack off, trying to breathe quietly. When I came, with a stifled grunt, the first shot arced high and landed on my shoulder, feeling surprisingly cool on my skin. And I was asleep within seconds.

There were a bunch of minor things that needed to be done around Sharon’s house—light carpentry, electrical work, plumbing (which I discovered I hated intensely) —and I made trips there at least a couple of times a week for most of the summer. Dad started to complain that he couldn’t find his tools; I had most of them in the trunk of my car. Although I wasn’t making any money, I was always drawn back. Sharon was clearly happier than when I had first met her. She liked having someone around who got her deadpan jokes. Although her daughters were a handful, at least the house was not falling apart, so that was one less thing to worry about. And I had many more of those sleepless nights, surrounded by a cloud of my own sweat, my erection straining toward something invisible.

Now, two months after that first visit, I was driving to Sharon’s house once again, probably for the last time. Classes started next Monday, and I would be back in the dorm. If all went well, Sharon would get her new job and be able to afford a real contractor. Shadows were long as I pulled into the familiar gravel driveway. A trillion insects buzzed and trilled between the house and the river. Silent heat lightning flashed along the horizon.

I paused at the porch and ruefully surveyed the damage. It was the screen door again, and it was worse this time; wood was splintered and would need to be replaced. Then an odd thought struck me. Sharon had said on the phone that wind had caught the door. But it had been unbearably still for the entire day. Not a breath of air.

I could hear the sound of laughter from inside, followed by the familiar noise of Tessa going upstairs, two steps at a time.

Sharon came outside, smiling and shaking her head. “They’re teasing me again about having you around.  My boy toy, they said.”

I stared at her, startled and confused. “What?”

Sharon mimicked Toni’s voice, in a suggestive tone. “’You really like having him around, don’t you Mom. You should show him the right way to handle a tool.’”

I tried to make sense of what I was hearing. My brain was rearranging the events of the last two months like puzzle pieces, and the new picture looked very different. How had I missed this? “So…,” I said, “let me get this straight. Toni and Tessa are teasing you… about having me around. How does that make you feel?”

Sharon’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”

“Well… If I were you… if I were in your position… I might feel a little resentment. Sometimes.”

Sharon glanced at me, then looked down. “Oh, no!” she said. “It isn’t like that. They’re just having fun.” But it wasn’t the truth. And she knew that I could tell.

There was a pause. “Okay,” I said. “But. If I ask you something… will you be honest with me?” My voice was getting low and husky, my mouth dry. Did I have the guts to do this? “We know what they are thinking. But. Did you ever think about it? You can be honest. I’m not going to judge you. I’m not interested in judging anybody. Maybe alone at night… did you ever think what it would be like…to take me to bed and teach me things?”

Sharon couldn’t meet my eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Finally, she nodded and softly said “Yes.”

“And… when you thought about this, did it make you wet?”

“Yes.” Just a whisper.

“And…did you touch yourself?”

“Yes…”

“Did you come? Sharon… did you come, thinking about me?”

“Yes.”

I let out a shaky breath. I felt a little bit dizzy. The lightning on the horizon flashed brighter now. Not just heat lightning; seconds later, there was a low, drawn-out peal of distant thunder. “Okay. Well. Now it’s your turn to judge me. Because I’ve thought about it, too.” Sharon finally raised her eyes and looked directly at me. “And I got really hard. And I came. Thinking about being inside you.”

Shit shit shit. What did I just do?  I blushed and frantically tried to backtrack. “If that freaks you out, I under…” But she didn’t let me finish. She stepped forward, fast, and kissed me. A very brief kiss, but one with tongue, darting in just once. She stepped back, just as suddenly, and looked at me intently, eyes glittering in the dim light.

“Sharon,” I whispered, “Would you… will you show me how to make a woman come? Right now?”

She nodded and gently took my hand, then seemed to remember something. “Toni is with Peter today. With her Dad. She’ll be back in an hour. Tessa is in her room.” She wasn’t saying no. She was saying be quiet.

She led me inside and up the wooden stairs, each step creaking. Although I had been in Sharon’s house many times, I had never been upstairs. To the right was a closed door, light showing underneath. Donna Summer on the radio singing “Hot Stuff”. I hoped Tessa would keep the volume turned up so that she wouldn’t hear us. Straight ahead was a small bathroom, with a faint flowery scent. Sharon led me to the left, closed her bedroom door behind us, finally let go of my hand, and began to undress.

I clumsily tried to get naked, without taking my eyes off Sharon. I didn’t want to miss anything. I had always been attracted to skinny girls with little budding breasts. Sharon was not that. Not thin, and not fat. Curvy and generous, with long, muscular legs. Her breasts were larger than I had realized. And her nipples! Sweet fucking Jesus. I had never seen anything like them in Playboy or Penthouse. They were almost pear-shaped, and pointed up and out in opposite directions. I wanted to adopt those nipples, take them home, and keep them forever. My scaredy-cat little cock, which up until now had been almost completely soft, finally remembered what it was here for. It pulsed slightly with each heartbeat as it gradually stuck out straight, then angled upward.

Sharon lay back on the bed, parted her legs, knees bent, and patted the quilt in silent invitation. I put my face close to her pussy, and she proceeded to give me a little anatomy lesson using simple, direct words in her calm voice. I touched her with my tongue where she directed me, and both of us jumped just a little at first contact. Guys at school made crude jokes about fishy smells, but it wasn’t like that at all. It was a nice, natural smell, like a summer rain, and getting stronger. And wetter.

Sharon was still giving me hints and directions, but with her thighs clamped over my ears I couldn’t make out the words. So, I decided to improvise. I remembered how excruciatingly good it feels to rub the head of my cock with the flat palm of my hand, extremely slowly, back and forth, until the sensation was unbearable. I started moving my tongue in a U-shaped swipe, just below Sharon’s clit, as slowly as I possibly could. It seemed to work. Her pelvis jerked fast three or four times and her thighs clamped down even harder. I slowed my tongue down even more, until it was barely moving. And when I guessed the time was right, I put the tip of my tongue directly on Sharon’s clit and licked it hard and fast.

Sharon’s hips lifted off the bed, and the fast pelvic spasms came back, much harder. And then I heard the sound. It was loud even with my ears covered, not a human sound at all, but an animal keening that filled the house.

While I was eating Sharon’s pussy, I had almost forgotten about my cock. But now it became the center of the universe, harder than it had ever been or ever will be again. I moved up and brought my cock to her pussy. I knew about this part. Or, so I thought.

Sharon reached between us to guide me. When her hand touched me, I had to grit my teeth and tell myself, Do NOT come! Please God do not, do not, do not! To this day, I don’t know how, but I somehow managed not to go over the edge. Sharon guided me up and down to part her pussy lips, then to a totally different spot than I was expecting. There? Really? I never would have found that in a million years. “There. Push gently.” And I did.

Every last shred of conscious thought fell through a trap door into a deep, dark pit far away. My hips moved on their own with no guidance from my overwhelmed brain. And soon, all too soon, all my muscles went rigid, my cock as far inside Sharon as it could possibly go, and my come spurted, spurted, spurted. Sublime pleasure bounced around inside me like a cue ball on a pool table. Eventually it slowed and was still and my brain was able to reboot. I did it. My first time. I felt like my heart had been forced through a hole that was a little too small, and was now free to beat again.

I opened my eyes and was amazed to see liquid love welling in Sharon’s brown eyes. Then I panicked as I saw tears. “Did...” My voice was a croak, and I swallowed. “Did I hurt you?” Sharon faintly smiled and shook her head. My fading cock slipped completely out, my drenched balls cool in the open air.

I moved off of Sharon as gracefully as I could (which was not very gracefully at all), and lay on my back next to her, self-consciousness back in full force. What do I do now? Just get dressed and leave? That didn’t seem right. But Sharon seemed to sense what I was thinking. She leaned over and kissed me, like our first kiss but longer. I wondered, could she taste herself on my lips? But then that became a very moot point, as she moved down and took my limp, wet cock in her mouth.

At the exact same instant Sharon’s tongue touched the head of my cock, which was already getting hard again, a door slammed downstairs and a gust of wind rattled the old windows. Big raindrops hit the glass. And I could faintly hear voices downstairs. Toni was home after spending the day with Sharon’s ex-husband, having barely beaten the storm. And Tessa was happily telling her sister everything she had heard. 

Their plan had worked.