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Old 10-23-2013, 10:17 AM
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tasha tasha is offline
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Initiation during a TV evening

“Hi there, it’s Sue. We haven’t spoken for a bit. How y’re doing?”

“Hi Sue,” I answered the phone. “Doing just great. When are we going to get together next?”

“Yes, the last time was when we went to the beauty parlour together. Must be some time back now.”

“Well, soon I hope. I remember that visit well. Did I tell you I went back and had a massage with Alfonso? It was a good session.”

“No, you’ll have to tell me sometime. Anyway, the reason I’m ringing is because I have a friend and her husband who are going away for a couple of days and they want a babysitter in for one night at least, on Wednesday. They have a young daughter, Mary, and a son, John, aged 18 who boards away at school in term time, but he’s scheduled to go out that night. They just want someone in the house really to provide assurance to their daughter and themselves of course. Do you think you could do it? I can’t do it that night.”

“OK, no problem. Give me the details.”

So it was arranged: I turned up in the afternoon, the parents went off, I was looking after their daughter, Mary, and their son, John, was due to go out later. He seemed a nice enough guy, telling me he was going out with his girlfriend.

In the late afternoon I had a shower and changed into the informal wear I had brought for the evening, a sweat shirt and casual, loose fitting trousers. Comfortable, and seeing as it was going just to be me in charge of Mary who would go to bed relatively early, I just wore those two garments. As I said, comfortable.

At about 6 in the evening the phone rang, John answered and I could tell from his voice it was disappointing news for him. His girlfriend had cancelled, bad weather apparently, and she did not want to drive in it. So we all had supper together, watched a TV movie and I then saw Mary settled for the night.

When I returned to the sitting room I caught a glimpse of whatever it was that John was watching. Just before he turned over the channel I spotted nude girls in view. He was watching a porno channel of some sort! I said, “What’s on then,” and smiled at him. He looked a bit sheepish and did not answer so I grabbed the remote from him and said, “Let’s go back to what you were watching!” I sat down next to him and saw a model on the TV who was almost nude.

“I’ve never seen this channel before and I’ve always wondered what they did. Now I’m going to find out.”

John had become very quiet and still; he was concentrating on the TV and I was watching both the screen and him. A short while later I saw him lean forward to see something better.

“What’s caught your eye, John?” I was sitting quite close to him and I was sure this was having an effect on him; my perfume, my proximity, my hair was down, possibly he noticed I was not wearing much although it was all loose fitting…

He was watching a gorgeous redhead doing a striptease – and so was I! – but I was watching him also as he intently gazed at the divesting model. Her well formed breasts and then her closely shaved mons all came into view.

“I was just looking at something in the background,” was his lame answer to my question.
“Yeah, I bet!” I said and placed a hand on his stomach to tickle him. “You were trying to see her fanny weren’t you?” There was a sharp intake of breath; he continued to watch. My hand accidently brushed lower and caught his substantial erection as it passed, held in check by the trousers he wore.

He made no comment so I said,
“Is my hand OK there?” and his first reply was inaudible but he had another go – “yes!”

“You like this show then?” I asked.

“It’s OK,” he replied. He reclined to a more comfortable position; I continued the slow circular motion on his stomach.

“You’re away from home at school in term time aren’t you?”

“Yes. It’s just for boys so we don’t get to see girls during the term,” John said.
“That must be really difficult,” I smiled at him reassuringly. “No wonder you want to look at nude women on the box.”

“That’s true. What I’d like is some live action preferably,” he said with more confidence, and leaned towards me, cupped his hand round my neck and pulled my head towards his, and kissed me. That’s more like it, I thought.
I pushed him back gently into the sofa, saying, “Let’s see if I can help.” I reached for the top of his trousers, undid them, opened them up, told him to remove them and his pants.

Back in position I said, “That’s better isn’t it? You’re nicely made. You’ve got a nice body, looks firm and in good condition.”

My hand reached for his penis, standing straight up, gripped it lightly and moved upwards once. It was so hard it was like a piece of wood!

“Oh, that’s great.” John reached over to me and fumbled at my chest, pulled up my sweat shirt, ran his hand up my stomach until it reached a breast where he felt, stroked, moved over it, felt for my nipple which he discovered and tweaked, feeling its firmness. His hand dived down inside my loose trousers, discovered I wore no panties, touched my hair – but I was not letting him advance further for now.

“Just a few moments, John. Lean back on the couch.”

I leaned into him and kissed him, still holding him while he fondled my breasts. I disengaged myself, placed my right fingers on his stiff shaft which I pressed against his belly and I began to rub it. Within moments I saw a drop of clear liquid at its head.

“Do you like this, John?”

“Heavens, it’s good. Just don’t stop!”

“What’s that? You want me to stop?” Had I misheard him through his gasps! I rested my hand from its motion.

“No! No! Keep going!”

“Must be nice having a girl do it for you.”

“Yes it is. Just go on.”

I obliged. My fingers resumed their motion along the erect organ. John’s eyes were becoming glazed as he watched my hand; his own had ceased to fondle me as he concentrated on his own burning desire, as he began to thrust with his hips. My movement continued at a steady pace: nothing too exciting I knew but I was quite sure that John, who must practice this art in solo mode a lot of the time, would not resist for too long. The experience of a female hand to stimulate him would bring him to the edge quickly.

Yep! One or two more drops of the clear liquid oozed from the tip of his organ, I paused to collect it on my fingers and spread it on his shaft where I was rubbing. His breathing became like that of a runner exerting himself, his middle began to buck and I found it a little difficult to maintain the rubbing style I did not want to change as he moved around.

Then, “Yes, yes,” he rasped and his shaft started to pulse violently beneath my fingers, beating repeatedly while his crisis passed.

I leaned back feeling somewhat exhilarated myself, feeling that my own nipples were hard and with a dampness which John would only be too pleased to know about given the chance. But such was not my intention this night; I envisaged his further education at an opportune moment tomorrow when Mary would be taken swimming by her friends.

John wanted to see me but I demurred saying I was off to bed and I ‘d see him in the morning.
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