Janice stood there, watching Carl through the open patio doors, and gasped. Then she smiled indulgently, her eyes twinkling. He obviously hadn't heard her come home because, if he had, he certainly wouldn't be lying on the couch doing that. She licked her lips, moistening them, the movement unconsciously sensual.

He was a handsome boy, and bore a remarkable resemblance to his father, despite the obvious generation gap. Nineteen years old. Fast approaching manhood but not quite there yet, although in some aspects, and Janice's gaze was drawn to Carl's muscular body and, in particular, his glorious erection, she could see there wasn't much in it.

Watching Carl masturbating to the Playboy channel reminded her so much of his father, although he preferred Penthouse. Whenever he was at home, alone and horny, he participated in a spot of what he called, "Spanking the monkey."

He enjoyed it even more when Janice joined in, replacing his hand with hers and eventually replacing her hand with her succulent, fully made-up, blood red lips.

How often had she coaxed an earth shattering climax from her husband, hearing him roar and feeling his abdomen buck wildly, eagerly accepting the fusillade of thick, hot spunk across her visage? She had lost count of how many times he'd looked deeply into her sparkling green eyes and said, "I love you," while long tendrils of warm cum dripped from her face. Good times! She fleetingly wondered where her husband was now. Although they were married, Janice knew the sea was his true love. She was condemned to be his mistress.

At forty-five he was one of America's youngest and brightest nuclear attack submarine commanders in the Pacific fleet and was destined for a glorious career. For three years, he'd captained one of the world's deadliest weapons and now he was on his last tour before promotion and a desk job beckoned. Normally tours lasted three months but,because his boat had been given an extensive overhaul, his current excursion included a thorough shakedown, extending his absence by another two months.

It had all sounded easy when he told her during his last shore leave, especially the ‘Last tour’ part but, with another six weeks before sunlight caressed the flanks of his submarine, Janice was having a desperately hard time. She hated being alone. She missed the raw carnal power he exuded, the way he used her body for his own needs. The way he made her beg, how he made her scream while her body shuddered to an intense orgasm.

The waiting used to be easier when Carl was a lot younger. Scuffed knees and elbows needed nursing, his growing body needed sustenance and his inquisitive intelligence needed nurturing. He'd accepted her marrying his father without question and Janice had relished the challenge of bringing up her stepson. She knew she'd done a good job. He was polite and courteous, good-looking and, most importantly, helped his “Mom" whenever he could.

But nowadays his full attention was reserved for Stacy, his girlfriend. Janice sighed mournfully,

Alone in her bed, Janice often heard them making love. She didn't want to think about the times she fingered herself, listening to their youthful cries of release. More than once she fantasized about joining them, but that was a fantasy best left to the adult film industry... and yet she was still watching Carl masturbate.

She'd been out having lunch and had come home to catch some rays, and that's when she made her discovery. Funny how Lady Fate keeps throwing you curve-balls. Standing in the warm Californian sun Janice wondered what would have happened if she had caught him in the act. Although she knew it was wrong, Janice couldn't shrug off the "What if" feeling that tormented her. Sizing his erection, Carl was more like his father than she'd realised.

Her breathing was labored and Janice felt perspiration trickling down her body. The light cotton dress was hugging her body intimately, forming a second skin. Her luscious womanly curves were clearly outlined and her hardening nipples were straining against the soft translucent material. Looking at Carl's strong jawline, she imagined him greedily sucking on one of her excited teats.

A thrill of forbidden excitement ran down her spine as her eyes feasted on his young muscular body. Her sex longed to be filled, her body rebelling against the enforced celibacy. Slowly and softly she placed a hand against the soft, pliable apex and applied pressure in a desperate effort to still the hunger. It didn't help. The fire in her belly was too intense and she felt her panties moistening as her fingers pushed harder.

Licking her lips, Janice felt her craving grow. She closed her eyes and fantasized. She pictured him on top of her thrusting his manliness into her receptive body, causing her to cry out in abandoned joy. As the wanton images in her head grew in intensity, so did the throbbing in her clit.

Janice opened her eyes and shook her head. The feverish desire couldn't be stilled, couldn't allow her to walk away, pretending she hadn't seen a thing. On the other hand, she couldn't stay where she was, trying silently to satisfy herself. In fact, Janice doubted if the vibrator lying in her bedside closet could offer her any solace, such was the need. She took a deep breath and made her decision.

Reaching for the delicate metal tab at her side, Janice pulled at it and felt the dress hang loose on her body. Then she pulled out her hair clips, shook her head and let her blonde locks fall over her shoulders. Without conscious effort, she heard the click of heels on the shiny parquet flooring. Time to find out if Carl was more like his father than she dared hope.