I had always been a bit of a nervous wreck when it came to change. But as I sat on my new bed in my classmate’s house, I couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. I was starting university in a new town, and I was determined to make the most of it.
As I unpacked my boxes, I came across some old photos of Mrs. Smith, my classmate’s mother. She was a stunning woman, with long, dark hair and piercing green eyes. I had always had a bit of a crush on her, and I couldn’t help but feel my heart rate quicken as I looked at her picture.
Without realizing what I was doing, my hand began to drift down to my pants. I pulled out my cock and started to stroke it, imagining Mrs. Smith’s soft hands on my skin. I was so lost in my fantasy that I didn’t even hear the door open.
“Well, well, well,” Mrs. Smith’s voice cut through my haze. “What do we have here?”
I looked up to see her standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with surprise. I was mortified, and I quickly tried to stuff my cock back into my pants. But it was too late. Mrs. Smith had seen everything.
She shook her head, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “You’re a dirty boy, aren’t you? A little pervert.”
I was too embarrassed to speak, but Mrs. Smith didn’t seem to mind. She walked over to me, her hips swaying hypnotically. She was wearing a tight skirt and a blouse that showed off her ample cleavage. I couldn’t help but stare.
Mrs. Smith leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I’ll handle this.”
Before I knew what was happening, she had kicked off her shoes and was rubbing her feet all over my body. She teased me mercilessly, her toes tracing patterns on my skin.
“You’re not even worthy of touching me with your hands,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain.
But I could tell she was enjoying herself. She was in control, and I was at her mercy. It was the hottest thing I had ever experienced.
I couldn’t help but cum, my body shuddering with pleasure. Mrs. Smith looked pleased with herself, a satisfied smile on her face.
But our moment of pleasure was short-lived. We heard footsteps approaching, and Mrs. Smith quickly put her shoes back on and left the room.
“Keep it in your pants in the future,” she called over her shoulder.
I was left feeling both satisfied and confused. I knew I shouldn’t have done what I did, but I couldn’t help but want more.
And later that night, I got my wish. Mrs. Smith came to my room again, this time wearing a sexy nightgown that left little to the imagination.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she said, her voice husky with desire. “I can’t resist your youthful energy.”
We kissed passionately, our hands exploring each other’s bodies. We stripped off each other’s clothes, revealing toned, athletic bodies.
Mrs. Smith took control once again, pinning me down and riding me hard. I thrust into her, my body moving in time with hers. We reached a climax together, our bodies shuddering with ecstasy.
As we lay in bed, spent and satisfied, Mrs. Smith whispered, “This never happened.”
But I knew that was a lie. I would never forget the night I spent with my classmate’s mother, the night she showed me just how dominant she could be.
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