Stephen

18 year-old young man in domination & bondage role play with neighbor. MF, MM, MMF. Oral, anal, spanking, shaving.

CHAPTER 1: Odd jobs

Stephen knew he'd had a crush on the lady next door since he first knew what it meant to be turned on by a woman. He could almost pinpoint the moment it happened. One day, when he was still in middle school, he was sitting in a shaded corner of the patio in the middle of a 95⁰ afternoon in July. She was probably 22 at the time. He looked up from the skateboard he had been fooling around with and found himself staring slack-jawed at Mrs. Joellen Bradley as she stretched ... to change a lightbulb on the back of the house.

Joellen Bradley was maybe 5'1" with dirty blond hair. She was petite but curvy. That day she was wearing snug, blue cotton gym shorts, white sneakers, and a tight, faded t-shirt that proclaimed, "Property of the University of Florida" across her chest. His eyes eagerly explored every line, every curve in her figure, though he did not know what or why he was doing so.

As Mrs. Bradley reached above her head, the hem of her shorts scooted up, revealing an indecent view of her bottom. Stephen involuntarily stared at her bottom as it jiggled while she tried to reach the socket. Then he noticed her shirt inching up and found himself noticing the gentle curves of her belly. Joellen saw Stephen staring long before he himself realized what was happening. She tried not to laugh at the smitten boy. It was only years later, he realized on reflection that he had been staring at her in his first experience with lust.

Joellen Bradley and her husband were younger than Stephen's parents. They were still in their 20s, and childless. They were athletic and liked to party. Mrs. Bradley's husband Travis was often called up by the Marine Reserve, so she seemed a little lonely to Stephen, though perhaps that was wishful thinking.

The summer after Stephen graduated high school, he was industriously mowing lawns and doing odd jobs for all the neighbors when he wasn't playing soccer or tennis. And then the unthinkable happened.

Stephen had just finished painting the Bradley's privacy fence. After slathering the last coats of polyurethane finish, Stephen climbed the steps on the back of his own family's home to go in to wash up in the second-floor bath. Once inside he peeled off his wet t shirt and began to wash his face and hands. He was drenched in sweat. He looked in the mirror and admired his growing muscles. As he slid out of his jeans to step in the shower he glanced out the window and saw Joellen Bradley exiting her back door. He realized eagerly that the privacy fence did nothing to block his view from the second-floor corner bathroom window.

As Mrs. Bradley sauntered towards a lawn chair she casually reached both hands down and across her belly and pulled off her top. Stephen was transfixed. She was wearing a very revealing neon pink bikini top, and she was stunning. With barely a pause, she slid out of her shorts, revealing her gorgeous thighs and her neon pink thong.

Stephen was barely breathing. He was almost drooling. He moaned slightly as Mrs. Bradley eased her body onto the reclined lawn chair and lit a joint. He could not take his eyes off her as she lay there, washcloth covering her eyes, nearly naked in the midday sun. Mrs. Bradley arched her back slightly as she shifted to get comfortable and he hungrily studied every detail. Stephen felt his excitement surge as Mrs. Bradley gently dragged her fingers over her belly, almost grazing her mons. He watched her breasts shift delightfully, the outline of her puffy areola and nipples prominent through the pink lycra.

Stephen found himself leaning closer and closer to the window pane, praying no one could see him. He savored watching his neighbor in such a private moment of relaxation. He began stroking himself before he realized what he was doing. He was fully erect as she adjusted the chair flat and turned over on her belly. For a moment he felt disappointed until he saw Mrs. Bradley reach a hand behind her back to untie her top. She was now completely nude except for a brightly colored piece of lycra stretched over her vulva and pulled taut between her ass cheeks. Mrs. Bradley tossed the bikini top to the side. Stephen almost banged his face into the window pane when Mrs. Bradley lifted her bosom for a moment to reach for her magazine and take another long, slow hit on her joint. He was fascinated by the luscious bounce of her exposed breasts before Mrs. Bradley settled back down and closed her eyes.

Stephen lost track of time as he continued to stroke his hard on while he stared at his neighbor laying in the sun. He noticed she seemed to be squirming a little and almost fell over when Mrs. Bradley lifted her hips slightly and slid her right hand below her belly. He realized with a shock that she was touching herself as she lay in her back yard. He could see her hips twitching and thrusting ever so slightly. He saw the fabric of her thong being pulled downward and realized her fingers were inside her bikini bottom. He wondered desperately if her fingers were touching her pussy.

Joellen Bradley's arousal appeared to be increasing. Her hips were trembling as she caressed herself under a clear blue sky, with a warm gentle breeze blowing across her back. Stephen, in his excitement accidentally knocked over a waste bin by the commode, making an unholy racket. He looked up alarmed only to see Mrs. Bradley's hips bucking subtly in a discrete crescendo of orgasm, her eyes tightly closed, and her mouth slightly open. He stared shamelessly as Mrs. Bradley gave in to her own pleasure. Stephen continued to watch with fascination as Mrs. Bradley rode the wave until it crashed, and she was spent. She pulled her hand free from beneath her pelvis. She slowly reached her hand towards her face. Stephen realized in terror and excitement that Joellen Bradley appeared to be staring right back in his eyes ... as she slowly blew a kiss; a contented smile on her face.

Stephen ejaculated spectacularly on the floor and the wall and was horrified. He frantically began to clean things up, hoping that she had not actually seen him watching her through the window.

A few days later Mrs. Bradley sent word through Stephen's parents that she would like him to cut their grass and trim their hedges. He must have imagined it. Surely if she had seen him, this would not be happening.

It was again in the 90s with 95% humidity when Stephen set to work on the yard for the Bradleys. He worked hard and fast, driven by embarrassment and excitement and a desire to please Mrs. Bradley. He was covered with sweat and grass and dirt by the time he finished.

CHAPTER 2: Lemonade

Stephen nervously approached the back door to knock and tell Mrs. Bradley that he had finished. The door opened before he had knocked, startling him so that he took a step back. Mrs. Bradley stood there in a tiny pair of yoga shorts and a formfitting, gauzy, white, buttoned blouse, the top buttons of which seemed to be straining a bit. Stephen said nothing. He just stood there gaping. Finally he said "Mrs. Bradley, I finished ..."

"Joellen," she corrected him. "Call me Miss Joellen. You must be thirsty. Why don't you come in for some lemonade?"

Stephen was having trouble saying words. Looking a bit dazed, he slowly started to walk forward from the back door into the utility room. He noticed that there was a sumptuous bathroom just off the side of the utility room, in the other direction from the kitchen.

"WHOa! Hold on their mister!" Joellen raised her voice. She pressed a hand flat against his chest. "You can't track all that dirt in here! What is wrong with you! You take off those dirty clothes right now!"

Stephen stopped flabbergasted "wh ... wh ..." he found his hand reaching for his shirt in confusion.

Joellen looked stern as she stared at him, though she seemed to be feeling his chest.

"Take off the shoes and leave them by the door!" she demanded. Stephen thought he noticed a smirk behind the façade.

"Oh ... sure," Stephen felt foolish. Of course, she was not telling him to strip in front of her. He took off his shoes and socks and carefully placed them by the door.

"... and the shirt!" she demanded. "Here I will help ... "

Stephen felt foolish as he lifted his arms when Joellen began to pull of his shirt. With his arms in the air, his inside out t-shirt covering his face, and ... Joellen's face so close to his body, Joellen inhaled deeply and slowly.

"My god, you really smell of sweat, young man" she cajoled huskily. She pressed her face closer to his chest and inhaled deeply once more. "Oh my ... you really are ripe."

For a brief instant she held his sweat soaked shirt to her face before tossing it into the washing machine.

Joellen paused to look him up and down an casually let her fingers touch his chest and abdomen.

He was startled to realize how much taller than her he was. She was looking up at him with her pretty hazel eyes.

She patted his butt with an open hand. "And those filthy jeans, mister!" she ordered.

"what the ... are you serious?" She patted his ass again, "Take them off! You are absolutely filthy!" and Joellen reached for Stephen's belt. He felt himself growing hard as she undid the buckle and slid his belt noisily out of his jeans, dropping it on the flood with a clatter. She reached to undo his button and zipper. Stephen was paralyzed as she boldly lowered the bulging, straining zipper of his jeans.

Before Stephen knew what was happening, his jeans were around his ankles and he was stepping out of them before Joellen removed his wallet and phone and tossed his jeans in the washer. He was in way over his head. And he was visibly aroused. He tried to hide the fact by placing his hands over the crotch of his boxers like he was defending a penalty kick.

She snatched his hands away from his crotch and demanded "what are you doing?!" as she looked boldly at the tent growing in his blue and white striped boxers.

After a pause that seemed to go on forever, she raised her voice with high drama, "STEPHEN! YOU should be ASHAMED of yourself!" She did not take her eyes off the growing bulge in his shorts as she slowly pressed her palm against his bare midriff, and gently pushed him a half inch away from her. Joellen's fingers lightly dragged across his skin towards the waistband of his shorts as she stepped away again. Her touch only made him grow harder than before.

As Joellen turned to start the washing machine, she said "Well you ARE a little worked up aren't you!" Then she said more softly, "I Guess you'll need a bath as well as some cool lemonade."

Joellen returned from the kitchen with a tall glass of iced lemonade with a single straw in it, as Stephen stood there foolishly, barefoot in his boxers with a swelling prick.

She stood inches from him, gazing softly up into Stephen's eyes and gently took the straw between her lips. She took a long draw on the lemonade and sighed as she slowly licked her lips. She leaned in very close to the half-naked young man and held the straw to his lips. While he took a sip, Joellen brazenly stuck her fingers into the glass and pulled a piece of ice which she slid into her mouth. He took the glass in his own hands and continued drinking as Joellen pursed her lips, pushing the tip of the ice between her lips. She then leaned down and stroked the ice in her lips against Stephen's chest, allowing the ice to raise goose flesh where it touched him. Stephen gasped. She stroked the ice (still between her lips) against his nipple, causing him to almost choke on the lemonade.

Stephen's now fully engorged cock had pushed through the opening in his boxers as if it was fighting for air.

Joellen again sounded dramatic as she crossed her arms and sternly admonished Stephen, "PUT THAT AWAY, YOU DIRTY, DIRTY YOUNG MAN!"

She nevertheless stared with fascination at Stephen's erect penis as he struggled helplessly to get it to stay in his boxers and tried pointlessly to get the gaping fly to stay closed. "Now, we'll have none of that you dirty boy, I am a MARRIED WOMAN! You should be ashamed of yourself exposing your sweaty fat dick to me like that!" she said as she gently patted the front of his boxers causing Stephen to moan involuntarily and causing his dick to remain at absolutely full attention.

She gently took him by the hand and began to lead him towards the clawfoot tub in the center of the large master bath. "I guess we'd better get you cleaned up" she said almost absentmindedly.

CHAPTER 3: Bath time

Stephen had finished the lemonade and set down the glass of ice on the sink as he gazed hungrily at Joellen.

Of course, on one level, he understood that she was seducing or provoking ... or at least teasing him -- as incredible as that fact seemed to his reeling young mind. Another part of his brain was totally accepting this absurd scenario where the neighbor lady was fussing at him about bringing dirt into her house and insisting on giving him a bath. Joellen did seem to be enjoying bossing him around and teasing him.

As Joellen turned to prepare his bath, she faced the large clawfoot tub in the center of the enormous bathroom. She stood with her feet wide apart, and her legs straight as she slowly bent from the waist, a slight arch to her back. Her amazing ass was now quite intentionally thrust upwards toward Stephen. As she turned on the water, Joellen hummed and began shifting her small frame from one foot to the other as her hips swayed like an exotic dancer. Between her gorgeous, full ass cheeks, he stared at the clear and distinct curving outline of her labia, barely hidden by her yoga pants.

She turned to face Stephen in her Lululemon's and her now partially undone top. Joellen appeared to have splashed warm soapy water all over the front of her blouse, making it even more sheer and clingy than before.

"OK, I suppose you'd better let me put those in the washing machine as well" she stood with her arms crossed sternly across her chest and staring down at his boxers.

Stephen hesitated, unsure what to do and frankly a bit shy.

"Take them off now." She spoke softly and firmly. "NOW ..." she repeated.

Joellen continued to stare expectantly at the tent in his boxers, with her arms crossed and her hip cocked to the side as Stephen nervously began to pull his boxers down over his muscled thighs. She stared right at his cock as it bounced free from his shorts and did not shift her gaze as he stood facing her utterly exposed. She watched without saying a word as his overly stimulated organ bounced in eager desperation. She made no pretense at averting her eyes as her gaze took every detail of his uncovered and excited genitalia.

"Oooh my, Stephen ..."

Stephen felt waves of embarrassment and excitement crashing over him as she continued to stare wordlessly at his naked body. Was she smirking at his ginger hair? Was she angry or attracted to him?

Once again his hands shifted to cover himself.

"Ah uh uh!" She corrected him. "Stephen," she sounded a touch impatient, "are you intentionally disrespecting me? Keep your hands at your sides and stop trying to play with yourself." She once again sounded quite firm with him.

"I wasn't ...!"

"Stephen!" She interrupted him. "Hands ... At. Your. SIDES! Eyes ahead. Look at me when I am talking to you."

He tried nervously to look her in the face, but again she was not looking at his face.

Joellen slowly walked closer to him until her face seemed inches from Stephen's. She casually grasped his scrotum in her hand, applying the slightest pressure and spoke slowly and deliberately, "what if I was to tell my husband ... and your parents that you came into my house trying to expose yourself to me and masturbate in front of me?"

"But I..."

Again she interrupted him, "Stephen, are you going to show me a little more respect now or not?"

"Yes... Mrs. Bradley."

"I thought I told you to call me Miss Joellen," she said slowly and severely.

"Yes ... Miss ... Joellen."

"Maybe we ought go with Mistress ... Then maybe you will show me a little respect."

"M-m-mistress?" Stephen was utterly confused.

She released his balls and turned away from him. As she stepped to the large double sink, she said as an afterthought, "you are quite a mess aren't you."

She returned holding an electric trimmer and a can of shaving creme. Joellen set the items on the stool next to Stephen and then walked back to a large Peacock Rattan chair a few feet away. She took her seat, crossed her legs, leaned back and casually lit a joint, taking a long draw and holding it in. As she finally exhaled, she spoke again, "Trim yourself. Thoroughly. Down there. Now." She sounded impatient.

"You... want ... what the ... what?!" He could not have been more confused as he stood utterly naked and vulnerable in front of Joellen with his hard-on bouncing slightly up and down.

Mistress Joellen eased back into her chair, savoring another draw on her joint and watching the young man with curiosity and intensity. She exhaled through pursed lips. "Pick up those clippers. Turn them on. And thoroughly, carefully trim yourself ... down there ... I'm waiting, and I really don't have all day. If you can't respect me and my home, you can leave right now."

Aside from the fact that he was nude, and his clothes were in the washing machine, the last thing on earth Stephen wanted to do was to leave. He desired this woman. He ached to touch her and for her to touch him. And here he was. Exposed and only a few steps away from her. He made up his mind right then and there. He would play her game. He was her slave. He wanted her so badly. He would do whatever she said without hesitation.

Awkwardly he reached for the clippers. He clicked them on and found himself startled by the vibration. He quickly began to sheer his pubic hair while Joellen watched quietly and smoked her joint.

Once he glanced up to see her grinning wickedly, but in an instant, she made her expression serious again.

He lifted his organ to trim the front of his scrotum, careful not to nick himself. he manipulated his genitalia from side to side, while the vibrating instrument kept him ... alert. In less than two minutes a small pile of hair lay between his feet, which he scooped and tossed in the waste basket. He looked totally bare from several feet away. He glanced in a mirror and thought he looked like a porno guy. His equipment definitely looked bigger now.

"Stephen"

"Yes, ... Mistress Joellen."

"Pick up a washcloth, hold it under the hot water for about a minute and then hold it firmly on the skin you have just shorn."

He did as she instructed. As Stephen stood, naked and holding the warm wet cloth over his genitalia, Joellen sat and watched him for minutes without speaking. She looked into his eyes and then studied his body, up and down. She was in no hurry, Joellen put down her joint and quietly asked "do you trust me, Stephen?"

Stephen stood quietly, having no idea what to say.

Joellen stood and walked to the sink.

"I asked if you trusted me, Stephen."

Stephen laughed nervously, "I guess I don't know ... uh, I don't know ... Mistress."

She smirked. "Well, that's too bad. I'm guessing that'll make this next bit a little ... difficult for you, honey."

She popped the cartridge of a safety razor handle and slapped on a brand-new blade. Next, she scooted the stool in front of the naked young man and took a seat with her face now quite close to Stephen's bare sex.

He flinched as he realized what she was preparing for. Stephen cleared his throat nervously.

"I am going to suggest you stand very still and keep your hands out of the way." She chuckled softly.