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This story is both a work of both true events and fantasy. Bea is really a friend of mine and her son Steve is real too, as was his escapades of looking down my tops or up my skirts and going through my lingerie. Everything after that is purely fantasy, a “what if” as you will, if I at that point of time decided to confront Steve and what I thought I would do with him.

Everyone is over the age of 18.


My name is Marg. I have lived next door to my best friend for the better part of 30 years. Her name is Bea. To this day, Bea and I still get together several times a week for tea and yes, the occasional cocktail… though I doubt she would want anything to do with me if she knew what happened last year between me and the youngest of her eight kids, Steve.

At the time, Steve was in his last year of high school and still living at home. I don’t know, maybe it’s because he’s the youngest of so many brothers and sisters, but Steve has always been the shy type. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he was a mama’s boy, but it seemed like he spent more time hanging out with his mother and me than he ever did with friends his own age.

I wondered for the longest time why that was, especially since he always seemed so uncomfortable at my house. Steve was always going upstairs to “use the restroom” or “stretch his legs”, leaving me and Bea in the lower part of the house. I was naturally curious what he was doing up there, but remembering what my own teenage years had been like, I respected his privacy and didn’t press him on the issue.

The pieces of the puzzle started to come together late one March night, as I was reorganizing my dresser and closet to make room for some “discrete” online purchases that had arrived that afternoon. Home for the evening, I was wearing a plain t-shirt and an old pair of grey sweatpants.

As I was looking over various thongs, bras and other undergarments, deciding if there were any I wanted to get rid of, I noticed that some of them were not where they belonged… especially my black lace, braless corset. It was attached to a pair of sheer black stockings. I never, ever leave the stockings attached after using my corset! The stockings hold up a hell of a lot better if you take care of them properly!

“Who on earth could have gone through my unmentionables drawer?” I wondered to myself as I detached the stockings from the corset and put them both back in their proper place. I am divorced, my daughter long moved out of the nest, and I hadn’t invited any men into my bedroom for weeks. Bea and my other girl friends were all far too proper to go sneaking around in my naughty drawer. In the end, there was only one possible suspect… Steve.

So that’s why he was always leaving his mom and me downstairs!

I detached my stockings from the corset, all the while my mind racing about Steve’s behavior. Should I have suspected him before now? Then it hit me. When his mom and I would hang out in the kitchen, Steve would always hop onto the kitchen counter instead of sitting in a chair at the kitchen table. He must’ve been doing that to look down my top. Had he enjoyed the view of my 36D’s? My face grew flush as next I remembered how Steve almost always sat on the living room floor when the three of us were watching television. The little perv must’ve been looking up my dress every time… and he would have gotten quite a show since I almost always wear skirts, and rarely wear panties!

How to get back at the little bugger for having the nerve to peep on me and finger through my stuff right under my nose? Just then, my telephone rang.

“Ohhh!” I screamed, startled and my heart skipping a beat at the sudden noise disrupting the stillness of my empty house.

Except for the rare wrong number, there is only one person who would call me after midnight… knowing I’m a night owl at heart. I walked the short distance from my dresser to the side table next to my queen-size bed, and picked up the receiver between the third and fourth rings.

“What’s up Bea?” I asked, fully confident who would be on the other end of the line.

“Nothing new going on here M, just calling to make sure you and Steve are still on for your ‘date’ tomorrow night,” Bea said, the inflection of her voice on the word “date” dripping with the sarcasm of knowing full well that Steve’s intention was a platonic one.

What Bea couldn’t have known was that my mind interpreted her use of the word in a more romantic, sexual context. I’ve never been afraid to go all the way with a man on a first date. Date my best friend’s boy? Bea would never approve! Yet, Steve’s transgression had been sexual in nature. Why not give him a punishment fitting his crime? Besides, he would be 19 by the time I was ready to give him what he deserved… A plan began to form in my mind’s eye.

“Um, yeah, about Steve’s birthday dinner,” I said on the fly, “I had lunch at the bistro the other day and it wasn’t at all up to their usual standards…”

My Kartal Escort body was trembling as I continued to hold the receiver to my ear. I couldn’t believe it. I had just lied to my best friend! For the first time in the history of our long friendship! Yes, I had eaten alone earlier in the week at our favorite restaurant, which we both just call “the bistro”, but the food had been as exceptional as ever.

“Seriously?” Bea asked. “I can’t believe it!”

My stomach was twisting itself in knots… terrified that Bea had seen right through me!

“So where are you going to take him instead?” she finished.

I covered the bottom half of the receiver with my hand so I could let out a deep sigh of relief without Bea overhearing. “I think she bought it!” I thought to myself.

Removing my hand from the bottom of the receiver, I went directly to the next phase. “Actually… I was thinking of cooking him something here at the house.”

“If you want something done right…” Bea chuckled. “I’ll tell him in the morning about the change of plans. Same time though?”

“Yes, same time… I’ll make sure it’s a dinner he’ll remember for a long time. Night Bea.”

I hung up the phone and brought both hands to my smiling lips. Had I really just that? “Damn risky

comment to make Marg!” I said out loud.

Suddenly, I realized that I was actually going to seduce my best friend’s son tomorrow night, on his 19th birthday. My mind soon began to wander, thinking of all the different ways I could torture a teenage boy with my mature sexuality.

I started to subtract 19 from 57 in my head as I slipped between the sheets of my bed and slipped a hand down my sweatpants. No underwear to get in the way, my hand immediately made contact with my bushy mound. Slowly, I made contact with the warm, moist flesh between my thighs… I didn’t get any more organizing done that night, but after staying up another hour or so without leaving my bed, I did have a very restful sleep.

When I woke up the next day, it was shortly after 8:00 in the morning on Steve’s birthday. Picking up my crumpled shirt and sweats from the spot on the floor where I had tossed them about half an hour before falling asleep, I got out of bed and put on fresh socks and my favorite pair of sneakers before heading to the store to purchase the ingredients for the evening’s meal.

While at the store getting roast beef and all the fixings to go with it, then a birthday cake from the bakery department, I instinctively pushed my cart to the drug section to grab a pack of condoms… I was standing in front of the various assortments of condoms, almost ready to choose one, when I suddenly came back to reality and realized Steve could cum in me until hell froze over and he still couldn’t get a post-menopausal woman like me pregnant. With as little as he hung out with teenagers his own age, I doubted that he had slept around much. In the end, I decided it was best to be prepared. I took two three packs of “For Her Pleasure” and tossed them in my shopping cart.

Back at home, I put the fixings in the refrigerator but left the roast out to thaw, then went upstairs and ran a bath. I added some essential oils and slowly slipped my body into the tub. After just soaking in the hot water for several luxurious minutes, I took my razor from my accessories basket and passed it under both arms. I swished the razor in the water, then did the same once over on my legs.

I examined my pubic area and concluded that leaving it bushy simply wouldn’t do. I thought for a moment about what a young man like Steve would prefer down there, and decided that trimming was out of the question as well. Instead, I shaved my entire pussy area smooth. It took awhile, but after a few examinations and touch-ups, there was not the slightest sign of hair or stubble anywhere near or around my pussy lips. I was tempted to take the time to pleasure myself right there in the tub now that I was so smooth and pristine, but knew I still had a lot to get done before Steve’s arrival

“Pretty damn good for pushing 60,” I thought as I smiled seductively at the sight of my wet body in the mirror immediately after getting out of the tub, “Steve is really going to enjoy himself tonight…”

I toweled off and massaged skin cream into the pores of not only to the shaven areas, but my thighs, butt and breasts too. I dressed in my normal day clothes, no underwear of course, and set out for the video store then to meet Bea at a small cafe for some coffee. When I pulled in to the parking lot of the cafe, I slid the two movies I had rented underneath my seat. Bea wouldn’t have asked about the R rated DVD, but the pornographic pictures on the case of the other disc might have started her asking questions.

I’d chosen an adult video which advertised older women like me, fucking younger men, like Steve. The thought of viewing such a movie with Steve caused my breathing to shallow and my nipples to grow hard underneath my top. As I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath my top, Tuzla Escort this made the outlines of my nipples (which get quite large when firm) visible for the entire watching world to see.

Still adjusting the videos in their hiding place, I heard a car pull into the space next to mine. I looked up to see Bea waving at me from inside her car. I waved back, then got out of the car and met Bea on the sidewalk in front of the cafe enterance. We hugged in greeting. I so rarely wear a bra I knew Bea wouldn’t be in the least suspicious if she felt me erect nipples brush against her chest as we held each other for a split second in the hug.

As always, Bea and I had a very pleasant conversation over our coffees. Somehow, I managed to discretely ask at what time of day Steve had been born.

“1:37 in the afternoon exactly,” Bea had responded.

After coffee, I looked at the clock on my car radio as I drove. It said 3:03pm. Steve had been legal less than two hours, and it would still be less than half a day of allowable fuckability by the time I got my hands on him that night. Oh, how I was looking forward to giving him what I owed him for his peeping and spying!

At home, movies safely moved to the cabinet under my television from under my seat in the car, I put the roast in the oven then went upstairs and got to work planning my wardrobe. Looking over my skirts, I had two somewhat short ones that most would say are totally inappropriate for a mature woman to wear around a young man… which made them perfect for Steve’s birthday occasion! After close consideration, I selected the shorter of the two.

It had a slit going part way down the left leg. Looking closely at the cut of the slit, I noticed that without any difficulty, I could alter it and increase its length by an inch or two. Modifications easily completed with the tools in my little sewing kit, I knew that crossing my legs would now offer Steve a grand display of not only the tops of the stockings, but plenty of bare upper thigh to make his mouth water. I gave a moment’s consideration to wearing panties the black thong I had found disturbed in my dresser, but soon decided no underwear at all was the best approach.

“Steve is going to have a hard time not looking there, that’s for sure,” I congratulated myself as I slid the stockings on an easily shimmied into the small skirt.

“I can’t go sheer can I?” I asked myself as I eyed my black sheer button blouse, the one with frilly cuffs and a frilly high buttoned neck. I had no intention of wearing a bra tonight, so every inch of my dark nipples would be visible to Steve in even the lowest of light if I wore nothing but the sheer. But right next to that particular blouse was a lace shawl. Experimenting, I took off my top off and put the sheer blouse on. Then I placed the shawl over my shoulders and looked in the mirror.

Perfect! My breasts were barely visible with the shawl on and without the shawl, Steve would become like putty in my hands!

I took the blouse and shawl off so I could put on my black lace, braless corset. I easily attached the corset to my nylon stockings. Wearing nothing but the corset on the top half of my body, my mature breasts hanging free, the next thing on my mental list was heels. And I had plenty to choose from, eventually going with a pair of 3″ black high heels with tiny straps. Steve had no idea the kind of evening I was about to facilitate!

I applied my make-up liberally before painting my lips and nails. Once the lipstick and nail polish had dried, I styled my hair and put on a little Air de Temps perfume. After raising my arms high so I could put on my blouse, but before putting the shawl on, I sat in the chair at my make-up table and adjusted my make-up mirror to capture the reflection from the floor length mirror on the opposite end of the room. I crossed my legs. Sure enough, plenty of thigh and stocking top was clearly visible.

I donned the shawl to complete my wardrobe, then went downstairs to the kitchen and got the side dishes cooking. As they were simmering, I took out the tableware and set the dining room table. I placed Steve at the head of the table and me to his left… an ideal place for his two favorite views, down my top and up my skirt.

As I finished cooking dinner and putting it on the table, my mind wandered further and further into the wonderful events yet to come. The doorbell rang just as I was putting the patter with the roast on the table. My heels clicked against the wooden dining room floor as I made the short journey to my front door. What my eyes beheld when I opened the door came as quite a shock. Steve had arrived in a stunning suit!

“Well hello birthday boy!” I said kissing him on the cheek, fighting every urge to just yank the teen in by his necktie and fuck his brains out right there in the entryway. “You’re certainly looking sharp this evening. Isn’t that the outfit your mom and I helped you pick out for your senior prom?”

“Um,” Steve started in a near whisper as he was looking me and my outfit Anadolu Yakası Escort over from top to bottom, then speaking at a more normal volume, “yeah, it is. I knew you were going to look really pretty tonight so I wanted to look my best for you too.”

I found the expression of half lust half embarrassment on Steve’s face quite adorable. And his kind words brought a sense of heat to my chest! “That’s so sweet of you to say, and I’m honored that you’d choose to debut your gorgeous suit with all this time before your prom… Come on in honey.”

I left Steve to shut the front door as I got a head start toward the dining room, not out of rudeness or lack of manners, but to allow the young man to stare at me as long as he wished from behind. Already aroused, I bit my lower lip as I imagined what Steve was thinking about me as he enjoyed viewing me literally behind my back.

Dinner proceeded exactly according to my plans. On several occasions, I leaned over the width of the table whenever I reached for our bottle of sparkling cider or one of the side dishes… giving Steve an eyeful of my profile. Whenever Steve would try to steer our small talk to a more intellectual topic (he was so cute, trying to impress me with all that he was learning in school), I would snatch away his ability for deep conversation by crossing my legs and giving him a direct view to my stockings and thighs.

“Feel like watching a movie with dessert?” I asked, relishing in the secret double meaning of my question.

I fully expected him to say yes, but just in case he wasn’t yet sufficiently under my spell, I cleverly adjusted my shawl. I didn’t take it off, but in rearranging it I flashed my breasts at Steve, nipples and all. The look on his face was all the confirmation I needed. I stood up, put my hand on the boy’s shoulder, and walked into the kitchen leaving the dining room table for a later time.

“Meet you in the living room,” I said with my back to Steve, head in the fridge grabbing the small rectangular cake container. I’d placed a knife in the container earlier, after getting home from the store.

Intentionally forgetting the dessert plates and silverware, I walked into the living room with cake, container in hand.

“Oh Steve,” I said in my best pretend disappointed voice while putting the cake container on the coffee table, “don’t get your nice pants all dirty by sitting on the floor. Come over here and sit with me on the sofa instead.”

Then I sat down, crossed my legs (making sure to open my legs wide for Steve in the process), and patted the butt cushion next to me on the couch as another form of invitation.

Steve was clearly in no position to disagree with anything I asked him to do at that point.

“Be a dear and put our movie in on your way over here, won’t you? It’s the only one under the T.V. that’s on disc not tape,” I said innocently.

Now it was my turn to enjoy, as 19 year-old Steve bent over to find the movie… giving me a great view of his pants fitting around his young ass and thighs. He spent a great deal of time bending in that position, probably deciding what to do since there were in fact two DVD’s below the television. Would he dare ask me which one I intended for us to watch? Part of me hoped that he would, the other part of me was terrified that he just might work up the courage. I held my breath as he made his decision, stood up straight, and put one of the two movies in the DVD/VCR combo player.

All of the practice he’d gotten digging in naughty drawer upstairs must have rubbed off on Steve, because he decided to be discrete and not say a word about the porno movie. We settled in to watch the movie… with Steve maintaining, unfortunately, a respectful distance from my body. I’d planned ahead for his politeness by renting a movie with enough action and gore to frighten an “unsuspecting” middle-aged woman like myself.

“Oh God, Steve!” I stretched like a girl his age as I quickly slid closer to him, put a hand on his shirt and my legs right up against one of his.

Steve froze, unsure of how to handle such sudden contact based on what he thought was my primal fear. It was a primal emotion, but lust. I held the position for as long as I could get away with it, and then patted my hand on the top of Steve’s left leg before scooting back to my proper seat.

During the over-dramatized love scene that’s required to be in any R-rated flick, I got off the couch and onto my knees. Steve was probably hoping that I’d give him head right there, but probably felt a sense of relief all the same when I lifted the plastic lid off the cake and started cutting it with the knife.

“Oh Dammit,” I cursed quietly, “forgot the plates and forks… I’m really enjoying the movie. Mind if we just eat it with our hands?”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Steve agreed while looking directly at my breasts from his position slightly above me.

The white frosting got all over both our hands. I was half tempted to take his fingers in my mouth and lick them clean one by one, but settled for doing the same seductively with all ten of mine, then wiping some fallen crumbs from near the crotch of Steve’s pants. Sweeping the crumbs from his pants and “accidentally” bumping against his cock in the process, I could see and hear him stop mid-breath, with hope and expectation.

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