Learning with Lou

I had always been anxious about how my stepson would treat me having lived with his mother for so long. Cindy would have had plenty of time to pass on any biased, one-sided views of their broken marriage that she might have had which could have made his and my relationship very difficult indeed.

To my considerable relief, this didn't seem to have happened. Richie appeared to have a balanced view of the reasons behind his parents' split; reasons in which I didn't even feature. He and I seemed to get on well from the start, our joint love of exercise giving us an important shared interest which threw us together often.

The run we were half way through was one that we had done many times before and would do many times again, usually first thing in the morning after Colin had gone to work at his usual early hour and before I went to my work and Richie went to college.

With the added incentive of having a young, extremely attractive stepson to impress and motivate me, my running was improving in leaps and bounds.

"Not bad for an old woman, eh?" I joked, handing the bottle back and watching him drink heavily.

Richie gave me a strange look as if about to say something important, then seemed to think better of it and grinned.

"Let's see how old you feel when you've run back home. We're going via the hill this time!"

"You're too hard on me!" I protested feebly.

The two of us set off along the waterside path.

***

"You're bothered about something, aren't you?" Lou stated firmly.

It was three weeks later and we were sipping over-sized coffees in the Sports Club bar after a Saturday morning spinning class.

"It's nothing," I shrugged.

"Come on. You can tell Auntie Lou," she grinned.

"It's embarrassing. And I'm not even sure there's a problem," I protested.

"Is it Colin?" she probed. I shook my head.

"No... at least he's only a part of it."

"Well you've got to tell me now," Lou frowned. "You can't say something like that and just leave it there!"

I frowned too. Lou was right; something had been bothering me and that morning it had bothered me more than ever. I looked around; the bar was almost empty so we couldn't be overheard so I leaned closer to my good friend and whispered.

"I think Richie is touching me!"

"Touching you?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Touching me accidentally. But I think it's on purpose!"

Lou sat back in her seat with a knowing look on her face.

"What a surprise," she replied ironically. "I seem to remember telling you to watch out for that sort of thing. Tell me what happened."

This wasn't quite the response I had expected but the whole thing was bothering me so I persisted.

"We'd finished our run last Sunday morning and I'd had a quick shower. I was thirsty so I nipped downstairs just in my robe to the get a Diet Coke from the fridge. Richie was still there in his tight running shorts so we chatted."

"Go on," Lou said encouragingly.

"Well as we chatted he was staring at me... differently; his eyes were all over my body and it made me feel awkward. I think he could tell he was doing it because he suddenly told me how good I was looking for an old lady and began to go for his own shower."

"Is that all?" Lou asked.

"Not quite. He didn't need to go round the table on the same side I was on but he did. As he passed he brushed up against me very close so his body pressed against mine. His hand was on my boob too. I'm sure it wasn't an accident, Lou."

"Was that all?"

"It was all that happened that day, but we've been running half a dozen times since then and he's touched me every time. Sometimes it's before, sometimes afterwards but it always happens. It feels like he's getting bolder too."

"Have you said anything to him?"

I shook my head.

"I don't want to make a scene. I certainly don't want to do anything that upsets his new relationship with his father. Besides, I'm not completely sure it's happening at all." I leaned closer. "Am I imagining things, Lou?"

"You might be," my friend reassured me after a moment's thought. "But you might be right too. You're a down-to-earth girl; you don't make up or imagine things. But even if it is true, it's perfectly normal."

"Normal?"

"Of course! Remember he's only a boy. He's at a difficult, vulnerable age; his hormones will be going crazy right now and you're an attractive, sexy woman whom he sees every day. He's bound to feel... urges."

"I suppose you're right," I mumbled unconvinced then looked down at my feet for a moment.

"There's something else, isn't there?" Lou pressed. I nodded, embarrassed.

"When he pressed himself against me last weekend, I could feel the swelling in his shorts. It was massive and a bit threatening and..."

"And..."

"And I've been having... funny dreams ever since."

Lou laughed aloud.

"Funny? You mean sexy, erotic dreams about him!"

"Shhh!" I hissed in horror, looking left and right so see if she had been overheard. "Yes," I nodded. "Really sexy, erotic dreams!"

Lou gave me a broad, knowing grin.

"Linda that's the most natural thing in the world too! You're a good looking girl so he fancies you. He's eighteen so his body shows it in the only way it knows -- getting a hard-on."

"You mean it?" I asked amazed.

"Of course! If he had a sister he'd be getting turned on by her too. He can't help it any more than you can help your dreams. You should feel pleased he finds you so attractive. No teenagers get hard over me these days!"

"But what about..." I lowered my voice further. "What about my dreams? It seems weird having sexy dreams about my own stepson."

Lou smiled broadly.

"Linda, he's a very good looking boy; you've been spending time together. It's only natural for you to feel attracted to him. I wish I had a young man with a body like that in my house, fancying me. I'd swap my dreams for yours any day of the week!"

"So you don't think there's a problem?" I asked anxiously.

"There's only a problem if he goes further than you want to go. If you don't want him to touch you, say so and I'm sure he'll stop. If you don't mind, let it go on and enjoy feeling attractive. There haven't been that many times in your life when a young man has made you feel this good about yourself, have there?"

She was certainly right about that; my self-respect had simply soared since Richie had arrived. I shook my head slowly in agreement.

"No. There haven't."

"It's up to you Linda of course, but I know what I would do!"

***

That night Colin and I made love more passionately than we had in a long time. Most of the passion was on my side but my husband responded well and enthusiastically. As his body thundered into mine, my legs spread obscenely wide, I could clearly see his son's features reflected in the strong, handsome face merely inches above my own.

The image of Richie's bulging shorts filled my mind as his father brought me to one of the sweetest orgasms I had enjoyed in a long time.

***

Reassured by my friend's relaxed attitude, I made no mention to Richie's about his boldness and most certainly didn't say anything to Colin. My husband was so happy to have his son back in his life that I couldn't imagine doing anything to interfere with his joy.

In fact, for a few days Richie seemed to keep his distance from me, at least physically, as if waiting for something to happen. I felt a little disappointed then immediately felt ashamed of myself for feeling so. Perhaps he was expecting to be chastised for touching me, I don't know, but if he was, it didn't happen.

After a while I began to wonder whether I had been imagining it after all.

We ran together almost every day for the next week. I could feel my legs becoming more toned, my tummy harder and my buttocks firming within my running tights. There was no doubt about it, as well as transforming his father, having Richie in the house was good for me too!

By the third day the 'accidental touching' had returned and if anything was even bolder. The pressure on my buttocks as he squeezed past me in the kitchen was a little firmer; the casual touching of my arm, back and on two occasions my boobs seemed a little less casual. He even managed to squeeze past me front to front on a couple of occasions. As usual there was nothing specific to object to; no obvious interference with my body but when he pressed against me the third time I could definitely feel his penis through his running shorts. It was large and erect.

To my shame, I found this obvious attention from such an attractive young man very flattering rather than disturbing. I should have been outraged and stopped it immediately but for some reason I didn't. What was worse, the erotic dreams I was having were getting more frequent and more vivid. I even woke in the night mumbling his name in an aroused voice which I could tell made my husband uneasy.

When I told Lou about it all the following weekend, she was as relaxed as before.

"It's like I said Linda," she told me as we sipped our Diet Cokes after the morning's BodyPump class. "However fit and strong his body is, inside he's still a boy and is just becoming sexually aware. You're not much older than him and you're the most attractive woman he gets to meet. It's only natural; every boy feels this way. He's just testing the barriers that' all."

"And my dreams?" I asked.

"Enjoy them while you have them. You're a lucky girl; I can't even get laid in my nightmares let alone in my dreams."

"No luck on the man front then?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Right now, my world is a desert, man-wise," she sighed. "You have a good looking husband, a gorgeous young admirer and are having sex whether you're awake or asleep. What do you have to complain about? I should hate you, Linda. Trust me; I'd swap my problems for yours any day of the week."

"And you really don't think it's weird?"

"It's the most natural thing in the world. Anyway, I told you before; if you don't like it, just tell him to stop. But from what I can see, you're quite enjoying a little extra attention."

She was certainly right, though I didn't tell her so.

I didn't tell Richie to stop either. I told myself that I couldn't possibly do anything to interfere with the joy my husband was getting from this rapprochement with his son but at least part of the reason was as Lou had guessed, Richie's attentions were making me feel sexier and more confident than I ever had before -- even more than when my husband had first seduced me.

As a result, the accidental touching grew more frequent and more daring. When his hands casually brushed against my buttocks they began to linger there; when his hips accidentally pressed against mine, the pressure was a bit stronger and remained there longer. When he helped me with jobs around the house or, more frequently helped me get into just the right exercise or yoga position, his hands dwelled on my body and boobs much longer than mere assistance would have required.

But still Lou was relaxed about it.

"Linda, it's just what boys do. Trust me; I have an older brother and had a teenage stepson. I know it feels weird but it's perfectly normal. Girls get crushes on family members too. Don't tell me you never had a crush or two when you were young... younger," she corrected herself with a grin.

She was right again. I blushed when I remembered all the pink-ink, heart-encrusted letters to boys or even teachers I had written and left unposted. But Lou hadn't finished.

"We've all done it, Linda. I know I did. It's just that with boys it can get a bit physical and a bit... messy."

I frowned in question. My friend leaned towards me and whispered.

"Grow up, Linda! Don't tell me you never got damp knickers when you were at school. Girls wet their seats, right?"

I nodded remembering embarrassing moments in my youth.

"Well, boys get urges they can't help too. And with those urges come... emissions. I wouldn't be at all surprised if Richie had photos of you hidden in his phone or on his laptop. I wouldn't be surprised if he had stolen a pair or two of your knickers as well. They'll be in his room somewhere and will probably be..." she paused as if embarrassed.

"Be what?" I hissed impatiently.

"Well, be a bit... crispy!"

"What do you mean? Oh I get it. Yuk," I said as the realisation dawned; Lou thought that Richie had probably been masturbating into my knickers.

"He can't help it any more than you can help your dreams, Linda," she chastised me kindly. "If he had a sister he'd be fantasising about her too -- and probably she would be about him. It's just that with boys it gets a bit more basic and messy."

"I hadn't thought of it like that," I confessed.

"You don't have a brother or a son -- yet," she added. "My brother used to steal my panties -- even Mum's sometimes. I found them in his sports bag once." She leaned in even closer. "To be really honest, it made me feel really grown up and sexy to think he fancied me. My brother was very attractive; all my friends fancied him."

"You really don't think I need to worry then?"

"Is it hurting you? Upsetting you?"

"Not really," I told her truthfully. "Actually, not at all!"

My reaction had been must the same as hers; Richie's attentions were doing wonders for my self-esteem.

"Then ignore it; let it happen and enjoy it while it lasts. It's the most natural thing in the world. When he gets a proper girlfriend it will all stop so make the most of it while you can."

She then went on to tell me of the wonderful new detox programme she had found and wanted us both to do. With my mind alive with thoughts of Richie and all she had said, I barely listened. There was the usual drivel about juices and yoga and herbal teas every day to help flush out the toxins. I promised to give it a try.

***

Later that day while Richie was at college I went quietly and guiltily into his room to see if Lou was right. I had just returned from the gym and was still in my tight, pale blue shorts and vest top but knew that if I stopped to change into my day clothes, I would lose the courage to see through the task.

My heart was thumping and my tummy rumbled with nerves. Neither Richie nor my husband would be home for hours so why the anxiety?

The truth was I didn't know what I wanted to find. Did I want to discover sneaky pictures of myself hidden in drawers, their edges wrinkled with semen stains? Did I want to find pairs of my panties with crispy white residues on them? Would they revolt me? Disgust me?

Or would the knowledge that my drop-dead-gorgeous stepson found me attractive enough to masturbate over simply reinforce my self esteem even further?

And if I found nothing would that disappoint me? Deep down I knew it would but hardly dared admit it.

I knew I should leave the room immediately; that no good could come of it but I couldn't help myself.

***

Half an hour later, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and looked at myself, amazed at the transformation my stepson's presence had produced in such a short time. Okay I was a good ten years older than him but thanks to the regime he and Lou had brought about, my former plumpness had all but gone. My legs were toned, my tummy flat, I looked the best I had looked in my whole life. I peeled off my tight-fitting sports bra, releasing my modest boobs. Their nipples were definitely erect, but that could have been from chafing as I exercised. There was a dark, damp patch in the crotch of my shorts too; I knew my body well enough to know that most certainly hadn't come from exercise.

I felt better about myself than I had in a very long time; perhaps better than I ever had. My drop-dead-gorgeous young stepson really did have a crush on me as the rather crumpled photos and lock of my hair under his pillow proved beyond doubt. How he had acquired the hair was a mystery but it was unquestionably my colour.

That this crush had indeed resulted in the emissions Lou had predicted was also proved by the two rather stained pairs of my knickers I had found in a shoe box at the bottom of his wardrobe.

I should have been shocked; I should have been disgusted and angry but I wasn't. However Richie felt about me; however wrong my mind told it was, my body wanted him right back!

As if in a dream I peeled off my damp shorts and looked at my naked body in the mirror; at the trimmed triangle between my legs; at the already-distended lips between my thighs. My eyes were fixed on my reflection as my fingers strayed down over my pleasantly-flat tummy towards the turgid flesh beneath.

I was wet; very wet. A shudder passed through me as my fingers slipped between my outer lips and into the damp hidden valley. I could feel and smell myself becoming more and more aroused.

What was happening to me? I had never done this as an adult before. My eyes fixed on my reflection, I began to play with myself, imagining it was Richie's fingers between my thighs, running along my outer lips, toying with my clitoris.

How many years was it since I had masturbated? Too many!

God it felt good!

I dimmed the bathroom light, closed the toilet lid and sat down on it, leaning back against the cool ceramic cistern and closing my eyes. Almost of their own accord, my fingers returned to my slit and began to stroke, moving faster and faster up and down my weeping flesh, feeling the lubrication running over my palm.

"Ohh Richie!"

I sighed aloud, feeling the remembered pleasure of self-stimulation I had known as a girl returning. My legs opened automatically, my back arched, pressing my vulva harder against my hand where my fingers were working a blur over my hooded clitoris.

"Mmmmmm!"

I plunged my middle and ring fingers into my vagina, sliding them from left to right and back, pressing my knuckles hard into my body, feeling my entrance stretching.

"Touch me Richie!"

I flipped my hand around so that my palm was against my mound and thrust my fingers deeper into my vagina, curling them upwards, turning them round and round before returning to my clitoris once again.

A warm tingle flashed up my spine as my fingertips slipped under the fleshy hood that hid my hardening core and rasped over its sensitive tip.

"Ayyyyy!"

My body bucked and my back arched forwards as my fingertip hit the target first time.

"Mmmmmm!

The room filled with moaning as I began to finger myself frantically, my attention focussed completely on my vulva. In my mind Richie's hands were on my body, Richie's fingers were between my thighs; Richie's touch was on my engorging clitoris, preparing my body for penetration by the thing that bulged between his legs and which I had felt pressed against me.

"OhhhGodddRicchieeee!"

My fingers were merely a blur on my clitoris, rubbing myself frantically in a frenzy of arousal. Not since I was a teen had I masturbated so vigorously, perhaps not even then! The pungent smell of female arousal filled the bathroom; the sounds coming from between my thighs growing wetter and wetter.

My mind pictured vividly my stepson's young, strong body rising over me. My legs parted as if for him, I pictured his young penis, long, thick and very erect as he directed it towards my body. My fingers flew back and forth, under and over my nub as I imagined how it must feel to have that teenage shaft slowly entering my inexperienced but desperately welcoming vagina.

It would be huge, it would stretch me, it would reach deep into me. A warm wave of pleasure began to rise over me, higher and higher.

"FuuucckkkkmmmeeeRRiiicchhhieeeee!"

The self-induced climax that hit me as came as a shock, robbing me of breath. My body flexed and shook but my fingers remained firmly in place, their job still not complete.

"OoowwwwRRiiicchhiiieeee!"

Bolt after bolt of orgasm hit me, my back and hips in spasm, shaking my entire body until, exhausted and helpless, my hand slipped from my vulva and I slumped back against the lavatory cistern.