As soon as the coach left, my heart began to flutter with each step Mrs. Jones took up the stairs. Even though she has no idea I was spying on them through the keyhole and masturbating while they were having sex on my parents' bed, she knows I heard them and I had a feeling she was on her way to me. True to my expectations, she soon knocks on my door, even though it's ajar.
"Can I come in, sweety?" she asks softly.
I sit up in bed, taking a deep breath, realizing there's no point in pretending to be asleep any longer. Mrs. Jones is standing in the doorway, her hair disheveled, a far cry from her usual neat appearance. My mother's silky robe struggles to contain her curvier figure, her ample bust almost spilling out. Her eyes meet mine, a tumultuous blend of sadness and desperation within them, and I feel a twinge of sympathy for her despite everything.
"Yes," I mumble.
Mrs. Jones walks into the room and takes a seat on my bed. She gives me a small, weary smile before reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of my blonde hair behind my ear.
"You're so pretty," she says softly.
Her touch lingers for a moment, caressing my cheek before her thumb grazes the contour of my lips. The gesture feels strangely intimate, making my heart pound in my chest. Her green eyes lock with mine, captivating me, and for a fleeting moment, as her plump red lips part slightly, I brace for a kiss. But she pulls away, her hand dropping from my face. Why am I disappointed?
"I know you heard us," she says. "I wanted to thank you for keeping our secret."
Her words linger, and it seems like she's expecting a response. But I'm torn about whether to keep their secret, so I manage only a hesitant, "I… I don't know what to say."
Mrs. Jones offers a gentle smile. "I've been so unhappy with my husband. Lonely, untouched, craving intimacy… John filled that void."
Her hand then slides beneath my blanket, resting on my bare thigh just below the hem of my nightdress. As her fingertips lightly graze my inner thigh, goosebumps erupt on my skin. The touch sends a jolt of confusion and uncertainty through me, further clouding my thoughts. I shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to react.
"Are you still a virgin, sweety?" she asks, her eyes piercing into mine.
I feel a mix of shock and discomfort at her question, unsure of where this conversation is heading. My mind races as I try to come up with the right words to respond, but all I can muster is a shaky, "No."
Damn! Why did I tell her the truth?! She's my mother's friend, and my parents still believe I didn't have sex with Ben. The room suddenly feels suffocating, and I desperately want to get out of this unsettling situation.
"Then you understand," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The need. The ache. Even when you try to resist it, lust consumes you."
She spoke each word with such eroticism that it was difficult for me to breathe, and I found myself wanting to experience the intensity of desire she described.
I'm rooted to the spot as her hand creeps under my nightdress, gently tracing up my thigh. My heart pumps with a mix of excitement and fear. Part of me knows I should stop her, but there's a strong urge to just let go and explore this uncharted territory.
"Did you enjoy listening to us?" she inquires, her voice dripping with a sensuous undertone.
The question throws me off guard, sending my thoughts into a frenzy. Is this a test? I try to figure out what to say next, caught up in the uncertainty of this provocative game she's started. Her fingertips lightly graze my panties, and I gasp in surprise, feeling a surge of pleasure shoot through my body.
Mrs. Jones chuckles softly. "You naughty girl," she whispers. "You're soaked."
I blush and try to keep my cool, but the heat between my legs only gets hotter. I've never been attracted to girls, but Mrs. Jones's touch has awakened a desire in me that I had no idea existed. As she strokes my bud through the fabric of my underwear, I can't help but softly moan.
"You're quite the eager one, aren't you?" she teases.
Mrs. Jones' words only send a rush of heat between my legs, increasing my desire for her touch. I bite my lower lip, unable to control my growing need. This is obviously wrong, but it feels so good that I don't want her to stop.
Her delicate fingers glide beneath the lace of my panties, caressing my slick heat as they make their way to my pulsing jewel of desire. The tingling sensation spreads throughout my body, and I writhe in delight, longing for her intimate touch. She knows exactly how to tease and tantalize me, sending shivers down my spine as she circles and strokes my sensitive nub. Moans and whimpers escape from my lips as I drown myself in the depths of her emerald eyes.
"You're such a good girl," she says softly. "Your panties are drenched. How about we remove them and make you more comfortable?"
I nod, and she draws back, her fingers now gliding down my thighs, leaving a trail of my fluids in their wake. Mrs. Jones gently pulls away the blanket covering me, and her hands slide under my nightdress. I lift my hips as she slowly tugs my panties down my legs.
"Your dress is only in the way, don't you think?" she purrs.
I blush and nod, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Mrs. Jones smiles, her eyes filled with desire, as she helps me remove my nightdress, leaving me completely exposed before her. I'm so glad I shaved yesterday!
My core throbs with anticipation as Mrs. Jones runs her fingers along my inner thighs, inching closer to where I ache for her touch. I spread my legs slightly, silently urging her to explore further. Her smile widens as she takes the hint, her fingers grazing my folds and lazily spreading my wetness with each gentle stroke. Finally, she slides two fingers inside me, filling me with a delicious sensation. I gasp and moan as her fingers curl and thrust, expertly finding all the right spots.
As Mrs. Jones leans in closer, her plump breasts spill free from the delicate folds of her robe, enticing me with their soft curves and rosy peaks. My eyes hungrily trace over her creamy skin, her dark and alluring areolas standing out against her pale flesh. Her nipples harden under my gaze, and I can feel my desire rising as I watch the hypnotic sway of her full, slightly sagged breast with every thrust of her fingers deeper inside of me.
"Don't be shy, sweety. Touch them," Mrs. Jones encourages me.
I hesitantly reach out, my fingertips grazing the smooth surface of her breasts, her nipples responding instantly to my touch. I've never touched another woman's boobs before. They are so soft as I squeeze them, and her peaks become even more pronounced. Mrs. Jones lets out a soft gasp as I pinch her nipples gently.
"Suck them, sweety," she moans as her fingers continue their relentless rhythm inside of me.
Wrapping my hands around her breasts, I lean in and take one of her pert nipples between my lips and swirl my tongue around its delicate peak, feeling its hardness and the way it responds to my touch. Mrs. Jones arches her back, pressing her chest closer to my mouth and urging me on. I tease and suck her nipples, alternating between gentle flicks of my tongue and soft nibbles with my teeth.
"Oh, you're doing such a great job," she gasps.
Her fingers quicken their pace inside me, matching the intensity of my oral ministrations on her nipple. The room fills with the sounds of our combined moans, and the scent of our arousal hangs heavy in the air.
Mrs. Jones grins wickedly as she whispers, "I want more. Lie down."
I eagerly comply with Mrs. Jones's request, lying down on the bed as she removes her robe. Her body is in good shape for her age, with just a bit of a tummy from having children, and she has strong, thick thighs. Her mound is bare, revealing prominent, glistening lips.
She gets up on the bed, presses her palms to my knees, pushes my legs apart, and positions herself between them. As Mrs. Jones leans in closer, her warm breath tickles my swollen, aching nub, and I feel like I will go insane if she doesn't touch me soon. She holds my gaze as her wide tongue traces a slow, teasing path along my labia, shallowly dipping in and out of my wetness.
"Mmm," she moans. "You taste so sweet."
Her tongue continues to explore my folds before she gently sucks on my clit. It feels so fucking good. My ex-boyfriend, Ben, never knew how to lick me like this. Mrs. Jones skillfully alternates between gentle licks and firm sucks, making me lose control over my moans and my thighs shake with need.
I feel the vibrations of her chuckle against my sensitive pearl, and she slides three fingers inside me, curling them upwards to hit my g-spot. The combination of her tongue and fingers is driving me wild with pleasure.
Mrs. Jones knows exactly how to push all the right buttons, taking me to new heights of ecstasy. With each flick of her tongue and thrust of her fingers, I feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, ready to explode in a mind-blowing orgasm.
"Cum for me, sweety. I want to taste your release," Mrs. Jones whispers in a sultry voice.
Her words only add fuel to the fire of my desire, and as she sucks me deeper into a vortex of pleasure, I arch my back and grip the sheets, unable to contain my orgasm any longer. I surrender to the overwhelming sensations that ripple through me, making my entire body explode with warm tingles of euphoria.
Mrs. Jones slows her movements, allowing me to savor the lingering waves of pleasure that wash over me. She prolongs my climax with each gentle stroke, teasing out every last drop of satisfaction and making sure to lick it all.
As I come down from the intense high, my body feels completely spent and satisfied. Mrs. Jones tenderly kisses my forehead and lies down next to me. After she covers us up with a soft blanket, she wraps her arms around me, and I place my head on her soft breasts, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
"We are friends now," Mrs. Jones says softly as I drift off to sleep. "And friends keep each other's secrets."
As we're lying here, wrapped up in each other's warmth, I find myself unable to keep my eyes open any longer.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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