There she lay, glistening in a sensual sizzle. The straps of her bikini undone, dangling from the sides of her folding chair tempting him in a way that brought physical pain to his loins.
He watched her from the kitchen window. She was getting her afternoon sun on her well worked body. His teenage erection was completely unhidden in his knee length basketball shorts, sans underwear. The feeling of the silky fabric rubbing on him every time he moved his hips made it difficult for him to stand still. He looked like a novice hula dancer swaying his hips so erratically.
Her body was perfect and not just for a woman of her age, though she wore her 50 years fabulously, but for a woman of any age. A rare mix of great genetics and vanity, she took very good care of herself. She had no idea that she had an audience at the moment.
His vision was going in and out of blurry spells, the fire so stoked in his loins. He couldn´t take it. He needed release. He promised himself he wouldn´t do this anymore. He had asked his pastor if this behavior was all right and as he expected, was told no. He prayed to make these feelings go away. But they didn´t. It did not help that prayer time was so close to same time where he was left alone with his thoughts in the dark. With no one around. No one watching.
He asked God to forgive him one more time as he reached for the cooking oil. He splashed a little in his palm. It was enough. In fact, it was unnecessary as there was enough Cowper’s fluid accumulated that it looked as though he had wet himself a little.
He reached into his shorts and almost instantly a wave of delicious shame pulsated through his body. He felt amazing and awful as his eyes fluttered and became difficult to keep open. He even uttered an audible ‘uh’. His knees went weak and then he felt panic. She was tying her bikini up. She was coming inside.
The orgasm hadn´t even fully finished and she was steps away from the back door. He didn´t know what to do so he and his handful of shame opened the door to the basement. He didn´t even think about turning on the light. He just stumbled down the stairs into the musty darkness.
“What do you want for lunch” called the voice of the once object of his deepest desire.
A shaky voice came from the darkness of the basement. “Nothing, Mom.”
By Ryan 