Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 05

"Why don't you get out of those clothes," she said with a coy smile.

She knew I liked being nude. When I stood up, my cock was pushing out the front of my khaki's obscenely. I stripped without hesitation. Ashley let out a little squeal when I pushed my boxer-briefs down over my cock, causing it to rebound into my belly. She reached out for it and pulled it into her mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop. It felt sensational, but it wasn't enough to make me cum. It was enough to make me want to cum, though.

She jumped up and led me to her bedroom. We kissed again, this time with her hand on my cock. I slipped my hand under her top, but she pulled it back down before I reached the nipple.

She explained, "At the pool party, Stephanie said she likes having a boyfriend who gets naked for her without expecting anything. I want to see what that's like. Just for a little while. Please?"

She was slowly and gently stroking my cock as she spoke. I was pretty close to cumming and knew I needed to before we fucked if I wanted to last longer than 20 seconds. But her touch put me into some kind of stupor, almost like a hypnotic trance. I would have done whatever she asked.

"Remember this?" she said, lifting her skirt to reveal a neatly trimmed pussy with sparse, wispy blonde hairs. I just can't resist a beautiful pussy, especially when it's attached to a pretty girl. I guided her backwards into a chair, kneeling and bringing my face in close, taking in the aroma of her arousal. I started licking her very lightly, and she started moaning right away. She was ready. I put my mouth over her clit and sucked on it, running my tongue all over it. She screamed, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Don't stop!" I didn't. When she climaxed, I thought her screams were going to bring the house down around us.

I wanted to cum so bad. Standing, I took Ashley's hand and put it on my cock. She wrapped her fingers around it but didn't move. She was still catching her breath. Her hand felt so good, but I really needed to cum. I started to ask her flat out for a hand job, but before I could say the words, she leapt out of the chair and said, "I'm starving, let's go to dinner now!" She moved to her vanity and started re-working her make-up. "Go on, get dressed," she said.

I walked into the living room thinking, "Why the hell am I such a pushover. I should just take her now and get it over with." Those were my thoughts while I was getting dressed. My judgement being heavily influenced by the state of my cock, I decided to teach her a lesson by not wearing underwear. I thought maybe it would embarrass her. I pulled up my khaki's, and stuffing a partially erect penis into my pants, finished getting dressed. I tossed my underpants into a corner of her room when she wasn't watching. There was a full-length mirror in the bathroom. The outline of my semi-erect cock was plainly visible on the front of my trousers, and I could see it flopping around like a fish out of water whenever I took a step.

During the drive to the restaurant, I started wondering whether she was wearing panties. That was the answer I gave when she asked what I was thinking. She answered by turning my way and showing me her pussy. I put my hand on her inner thigh and reached for it, but it was too far away.

I had a full-blown erection when I got out of the car, but by the time we walked into the restaurant it had faded considerably. Nevertheless, Ashley observed all the attention we were getting while we waited for a table. There were already a few middle-aged couples on the list when we arrived. All the seats in the waiting area were taken and we were the only ones standing.

Ashley became nervous about the way people were looking at us. They were basically looking either at my dick or her face, all with disapproving expressions. She clung to my arm with a grip that kept getting tighter and tighter. She was getting pretty anxious. Four guys in their twenties came in. The new guys were glancing at us, whispering and smirking. It was better than the evil eye we were getting from the older crowd, but it did not help with Ashley's anxiety.

Names were called and seats became available. Ashley hurriedly pulled me to an empty space on a bench and we sat down. When she crossed her legs at the knee, two of the older gentlemen seated across from us went into coughing fits. Both wives whispered crossly to their husbands. Ashley was so nervous, she'd forgotten she wasn't wearing underpants; the skirt was really too short for sitting anyway. One of the younger guys was facing us; he looked at me and nodded knowingly, then spoke to the rest of his party. All three turned and looked up Ashley's skirt. It was painfully obvious from their reactions that they could see all the way. She uncrossed her legs, but that just made it worse. Ashley was pressed up against me as close as she could get. I think she was nearly in tears; she knew her pussy was exposed and she did not care too much for that. Putting my arm around her shoulders, I gave her a reassuring smile, but I don't think she was reassured.

Finally we were seated at a booth. I started to take the seat across from Ashley, but she pulled me in beside her. She was still pretty upset. She put her hand into my lap and found my cock, letting her fingers dance across it, sometimes rubbing, sometimes tapping. As it grew, she became increasingly aware that I, like herself, was not wearing underpants. Anxiety gave way to anger. Remembering the boxer briefs I was wearing at her house, she knew I'd embarrassed her on purpose. She was, of course, ignoring the fact that she'd flashed her own beaver. Suddenly she relaxed; a little too suddenly. I worried she'd decided to get even. That would not be easy, since I could have comfortably walked out of the place buck naked. At least, I believed I could have.

We had a very nice meal and good conversation, but her assault of my cock was relentless throughout. I considered myself lucky I didn't cum in my pants. I could have walked out buck naked, but would have been uncomfortable wearing cum-stained trousers. After dessert, she excused herself to the ladies room. It was the first respite I'd had all evening, and I was grateful for the chance to relax.

She had been gone a long time, too long, when my phone signaled an incoming text. It was from Ashley; she was in the foyer waiting for me. As soon as I climbed out of the booth, I saw the couple sitting at the nearest table staring at me in disbelief. At that moment I felt the wetness at my crotch. I had a pre-cum stain the size of Nebraska on the front of my pants, centered on the head of my plainly visible semi-erect cock. I had to smile at Ashley's perfectly executed plan. I took a deep breath, held my head up, back straight, and walked toward the door leaving shocked diners in my wake. I thought I saw a self-satisfied look on Ashley's face.

When we got to the car, I invited her to my house. She gave me a very sweet smile and said simply, "okay." I told her I had a great time in the restaurant. She didn't answer; instead she leaned over the center console and reached into my lap, fondling my cock through my trousers again. I don't know why I didn't just tell her to wait until we got home. This time she was pressing hard and doing full strokes up and back. I didn't even realize until it was too late, she was trying to make me cum in my pants. She succeeded. If she thought I would be annoyed, she was mistaken.

"Uh-oh, looks like you had an accident," she said with a smile. I was breathing too hard to respond.

"Let's just go back to my house," she said, "my parents won't be home until really, really late."

I considered begging her for sex, but having just climaxed, didn't feel the need at the moment. I turned toward Ashley's house. We were a few blocks away when I heard heavy breathing and quiet moaning from the seat next to me. I knew what was happening without looking. When we stopped at a red light near the house I turned to watch. She was rubbing her clit and making a sound like a cat in heat. The light changed to green and back to red again before she climaxed. Luckily no one was behind us.

The smell of pussy filled the car. I was damn glad I had leather seats; I would never have gotten that smell out of fabric.

Chapter 31

My sisters and I found it somewhat strange when Mom accepted our full-time nudity without a word. She returned from Beijing on a Sunday, so Morgan was able to join us. The three of us came downstairs together stark naked. She was surprised, to say the least. When we hugged, she held on longer than a normal hug, putting her arms around my waist and drawing me in tight.

For the first few days, Mom was a little unnerved by our nudity, but eventually grew accustomed to it. One thing I had not expected was the way she couldn't keep her eyes off my dick. In conversation, she looked me in the eye while she was speaking, but listened to me while staring at my crotch. That made conversations with Mom very interesting, because my cock was in a constant state of flux, rising and falling, depending on how focused I was on the conversation.

That first week she was home, the week school started, she asked me into the study for a chat. She was sitting at her desk, the chair swiveled around to face me. There was another chair in the room, but I decided to remain standing. We made small talk for minute or so before she totally shocked me by asking why my penis rose and fell during our conversations. When I realized I was going to stand there nude and talk to this sexy woman about my cock, I immediately became fully erect. She smiled when she saw it stand up so quickly.

I decided to come clean. "When you look at my penis, I get an erection. When I'm concentrating on the conversation it goes soft."

"Are you saying that I make you hard? And why isn't it soft right now?"

"Yes you do make me hard, when you look at my penis. Right now, we're talking about it, so, it will probably stay hard."

She was eyeing my dick like it was a piece of chocolate candy. I walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, putting my erection within easy reach. I felt like I had to let her take the lead. We were related only by marriage, but she had raised me from the age of six. Because I didn't remember her from before the accident, to me she was merely one of the sexiest women on the planet. I figured she might still think of me as her child.

I didn't tell her I got an erection whenever any female looked at my dick. I wanted her to feel special. She reached out her hand tentatively, then drew it back.

"It's okay Mom, go ahead," I said encouragingly.

"In this room, I want you to call me Virginia."

I think I knew what she meant. "Go ahead, Virginia,"

She reached out again, this time wrapping her hand around my cock. I leaned back, closed my eyes and whispered, "Yes." She wasn't stroking so much as feeling it. Squeezing here or there, running her fingertips around the crown and over the top.

"You have no idea," she said in a whisper. She turned her chair to face me so she could use her other hand to feel my balls, rolling them around in her palm, squeezing gently. When she began to lean in towards me, I almost came just from the thought of my dick in her mouth, but all she did was press it against the side of her face. She began to rub her face on it, sometimes kissing my pelvis when her mouth came into contact with me. It was an incredible sensation, and I was getting close to the edge.

"Um, Virginia," I wanted to give her fair warning, but it was unnecessary - she knew what was going on. She released me and sat back in the chair.

"I want to watch you do it," she said.

She didn't have to ask me twice, nor did she have to wait long. The sight of her gorgeous eyes watching me jerk off pushed me right over the edge, and with a loud groan I came hard, shooting my cum halfway across the room. Three, maybe four times - it was a big load. I relaxed and slumped back against the desk. Virginia put her arm around my butt and leaned her head against my hip. She took my cock in her other hand, just fondling it gently. It was so totally unexpected; it made me think she would be open to more, but I didn't want to push it.

"It's been a long, long time since I've had a naked man in the house," she said. "I know it turns you on to be nude around women, even your relatives. It's not unusual - your father was the same way."

She went on to talk about how he used to walk around naked when Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Peggy were visiting. I could hardly believe it. She said he would strut around like a peacock while Liz and Peg howled with laughter and made rude comments. The aunts were always handling him whenever they got close enough.

"My sisters told me they wanted to watch him jerk off. I told them it was fine with me, but I didn't want to be in the room. It would have felt weird, my husband and sisters." They asked him every time they came over and he always agreed. I immediately started wondering when the aunts were coming for another visit.

With Morgan away at college, Michelle and I had the upstairs to ourselves. Tennis and soccer kept her pretty busy - she generally didn't get home until a couple of hours after I did. We settled into a routine right from the start. I was usually studying when she got home. She started stripping the minute she walked in, and was nude by the time she got upstairs.

"Could I ask you for a favor?" she asked every day, as if she ever had to ask. Letting her have the chair, I knelt and started licking her. She would have showered first had I asked, but I didn't mind; the ripeness was a little off-putting at first, but by the third day I was beginning to enjoy it. Acquired taste, I guess. I always started slow and built her up gradually, taking her to the edge several times before finally pushing her over the top. Some days that was enough, others she kept her seat for another round. Every two or three days, she came back after her shower and dropped to her knees. She was becoming a damn good cocksucker.

Virginia called me into her study as soon as she got home from work nearly every day. Most of the time we repeated the first session - she fondled me for a while then asked me to masturbate for her. But every once in a while she gave me a long, teasing hand job that rivaled, maybe even exceeded, Denise's. I wondered how long it would be before she opened her legs to me. I figured I had plenty of time.

Chapter 32

"If you pass the finals, I'll give you credit for Advanced Physics and Calculus, as long as Mrs. Marshall and Miss Berretta agree. We can move you to fourth period American Lit and your school day will be over at 12:30."

I was in the guidance counselor's office at school, sitting across a desk from Mrs. Bradly, a rail-thin African-American woman with silver hair. Everybody said she was easy to get along with, and they were right. During the second week of the school year, I found I was skating through two of my toughest subjects, and wanted out. It would lighten my homework load considerably, and my school day would end two and a half hours earlier. I had considered asking to test out of all my subjects, but knew that if I didn't attend school I'd have to get a job.

The doctors said I would retain much of what I had learned before the accident, even if I couldn't remember learning it. It was strange, discovering I could solve differential equations. As soon as I started working the first problem, it all came flooding back. It was the same with most subjects.

I spoke to Mrs. Marshall after class, and she readily agreed to let me take the Physics final. I planned to hire a tutor to cover what I'd missed. Miss Berretta was not so agreeable. She was known as the most hard-assed teacher at the school, ruling her class with an iron fist. I met with her at the end of the school day, in her empty classroom. She was sitting behind her desk looking at me thoughtfully. When she removed her glasses and softened her expression, she was almost pretty. The lines on her face were not even noticeable until you got close. She had a figure the boys liked to talk about. We called her "Boom-boom Berretta," but not to her face. She hated it.

Boom-boom Berretta was old by my standards, maybe over 50. She might have been pretty once, before the wrinkles surrounded her eyes. Her blonde hair was going gray, and she'd hadn't decided whether to keep it blonde or go with silver. We couldn't tell how long it was; she kept it pulled back severely, in a bun on the back of her head. Her hour-glass figure was top-heavy by a pretty good margin. We figured she must work out to stay in shape. She always wore tailored suits, with a skirt, jacket and white blouse.

I was practically begging, using all of my persuasive skills to coax her into letting me test out of her class. Finally she reached a decision. "I will go along under one condition. I will be your tutor. That's the only way I can be sure you've learned the material." she said. "It won't be as easy as you think. We'll start with two hours a day, three days a week and see how that goes."

I was okay with that. Surely she wouldn't be as stern in a tutoring session as she was in the classroom. It was a big commitment of time, but I just wanted out. She scribbled her address on a piece of paper and handed it to me. "We can start Friday. Come to my house at seven and expect to be there until nine. Don't be late."

"Yes, Ma'am." I walked out of there thinking, "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

Seven o'clock Friday evening, I rang Miss Berretta's doorbell. It was a bigger house than I expected. She answered and invited me in, still smartly dressed in her suit. We sat together at her dining room table and started right in. After about an hour, she assigned a couple of problems for me to work on, then closed the book, saying she had a serious matter to discuss.

"Stephen," she said, "There's been talk about you at the school. They say you're not as shy as you used to be, before your accident."

"That's what they tell me. I don't remember."

"Yes. They also say you like to go around without any clothes on. Is that true?"

"Only at home."

"In your home, but it doesn't matter who else is there. They say you like to be nude around women."

I kept quiet. I was starting to worry that somebody had complained about me, that I was in trouble or something.

"I'll take your silence as agreement. Well, you think about it. It's your decision. I'll test you out of my class if you attend the tutoring sessions in the nude."

I was so shocked, I'm sure my mouth fell open. I studied her face for a few minutes. She looked serious. I almost told her to go to hell; I didn't like my teacher coercing me like that. After a few seconds of silence, I realized I had an erection. I started thinking, "Why not give the old lady a thrill? It might even be fun."

She continued, "It means you will have to strip as soon as you walk through my door, and stay that way until it's time for you to leave. Oh, and this arrangement stays between us. Now, I want you to finish working those problems, and come find me in the den when you're done. Make sure you undress first."

She walked out, leaving me to make my decision. I decided to work on the problems first; I was finished in about ten minutes. Then without thinking, I stripped quickly and took my work into the den.

She was sitting in an easy chair watching television when I came in. She paused the TV and pointed to the sofa; I handed her my answer sheets and sat down. She didn't say anything about my nudity. I began to wonder if I should have thought it through a little better. What else had she heard about? I might have started down a slippery slope. On the one hand, she was my calculus teacher, not to mention old; on the other hand, it was Boom-boom Berretta. Could I really pass that up?