He took the napkins with the hand that had been holding his shirt, letting the fabric fall over his privates. Melinda sat in her previous position, while Brian tried to figure out a way to hold his shirt up, hold his dick, and hold the napkins all at the same time. Letting out an exasperated grunt, he eventually just whipped the shirt off over his head, revealing a hairless, skinny chest with small nipples.
Now mostly naked, Brian looked back at Melinda. He was shivering.
“Are you cold?”
“No,” he replied, “Just… nervous, I guess?”
“Nothing to be afraid of. I’ve already seen this, remember? Just enjoy yourself. Close your eyes if you need to.”
He nodded and took a rattling breath, but he didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he continued to stare at Melinda. The fact that he was looking at her eyes instead of her breasts or crotch served only to heighten Melinda’s sexual tension, and she was tempted to just rip off her clothes and fuck the kid right there on the couch. But, no, that would be going too far.
Swallowing, Brian finally began to stroke his penis up and down. More pre-cum oozed out of him, drizzling down his shaft and onto his hand, lubricating. Melinda watched, faint from the blood rushing through her veins. His skin moved up and down slightly, and as the pumping became more pronounced it would momentarily cover the penis head completely, only to reveal it completely again, glistening with clear liquid.
Her hands itched to find her clit, but that would also be going too far. She’d have to be satisfied with keeping these images in her head, so she could relive them once Brian had left. What she wouldn’t give to have her phone on hand to record this.
Brian’s mouth parted, and his eyes strayed down to Melinda’s body, his jacking off speeding up even more. His butt muscles were causing his hips to thrust forward, getting into rhythm with his hand.
He’s not going to last long, Melinda thought.
And that’s when the doorbell rang.
Squeaking, Melinda jumped up off her chair, intent on telling whoever was at the door to go away. She bolted toward the door, only partially conscious of the fact that her nipples were pointing out of her shirt and that the crotch of her shorts were almost dripping wet.
Opening the door a crack, Melinda was about to say, “Not interested!” but the words died on her lips.
A girl the same age as Brian stood on the doorstep, brunette hair pulled back into a small ponytail. She wore grungy clothes that hid any curves she might have. It was Bailey. Melinda knew her from church; the girl was in the same class as Brian.
“Oh, crap,” Melinda said, her voice shaking. “Hi Bailey, I totally forgot that you were coming.”
“Is… is now not a good time?” the girl asked, and Melinda became conscious of gasping sounds coming from the couch behind her. Bailey tried to look past her teacher, obviously wondering what that sound was.
Blocking the doorway with her body as much as possible, and causing her left breast to squish out of the door, Melinda shook her head. “No. No, it’s fine. The lawn mower is in the garage. The code is just 4123. I really appreciate your help, Bailey. Thanks!”
And she closed the door.
Taking a deep breath, and trying to forget Bailey’s stunned expression, she turned around. The poor girl had gotten quite the look at the shape of her teacher’s left nipple.
Hearing Bailey open the garage door, Melinda blinked, trying to take in the scene in front of her. Brian, still mostly naked, sat on the couch, leaning back with eyes closed, breathing hard. His right hand was wrapped around the shaft of his penis, and a great deal of white cum covered his fingers. Some still leaked out of the tip, but his orgasm was obviously complete; the kid was in quite the afterglow.
She had missed his orgasm.
The napkins in Brian’s other hand were squished, but completely clean.
Mouth open, Melinda traced her eyes over a string of cum that ran in a straight line from Brian’s pants, across her blue carpet, and onto the small coffee table a couple feet away from the couch.
“Oh crap,” Brian gasped, and she saw him noticing his mess. “I totally forgot about the napkins. I… I’m so sorry, Melinda!”
She shrugged, still stunned, and noticed that, with the release of his sexual tension, Brian seemed extremely embarrassed. He looked from the cum on her carpet and table to the cum on his pants and underwear, face red.
Melinda couldn’t care less about the mess. She had missed Brian’s orgasm! She was so horny that it was almost impossible to think clearly.
“You can’t go home like that,” she said softly, and he shook his head in agreement. “How about you go upstairs and clean off in the bathroom. Leave your dirty clothes here. I’ll throw them in the washer and we’ll get them clean. You sure you’re not going to be expected at home?”
“Yeah, no one will be there until tonight.”And Brian carefully began to remove his socks, shoes, pants and underwear.
Melinda watched in silence for a while, still standing in the same place, unable to believe that this had just happened in her living room. The smell of sex registered to her brain. Her tingling pussy wanted to be rubbed so bad that her legs twitched, making walking a dangerous aspect.
“I’d take you home, but the car isn’t here.” Matt had it, but she didn’t want to say her husband’s name to Brian right now. Melinda also didn’t mention that Brian’s home was within walking distance. “I’ll make us some lunch while the clothes are washing. And… after I clean up… that.” She pointed.
“Okay.”
Grabbing his shirt, Brian stood up, softening penis wobbling back and forth. He walked halfway across the room before turning around and catching Melinda in the act of looking at his young butt.
“I… don’t have any pants?”
“I’ll get you something,” Melinda said, tearing her eyes away from Brian’s penis.
He nodded and made his way up the stairs, butt cheeks flexing.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Melinda swallowed, throat dry. Without Brian in the room, she felt confident enough to walk, so she moved toward the kitchen, trying to think of where her cleaners were. Rummaging in the cupboard beneath her sink, she found carpet cleaner and a sponge. Remembering the cum on her coffee table, she also grabbed some hard-surface cleaner.
Standing, she went back to the living room and stared at the mess for a little longer before kneeling. The smell of cum was still strong.
There was CUM on the carpet of her living room. The cum of a guy who hardly needed to shave every week, let alone every day. How hot was that?
Melinda looked toward the stairs, hearing the water run as Brian cleaned up. She figured he wouldn’t come down within the next few seconds. Before she could convince herself not to, Melinda put a finger on her coffee table and swiped up some drying cum. The finger went into her mouth.
It had been years since she’d tasted cum. Matt typically stayed with the traditional “it all goes in the vagina” idea. Their first few months of marriage had been different, but that seemed a very long time ago.