It was Sunday again, and my cock was hard in my hand again. As the water showered down over me, I stroked hard, but this time I wasn’t fueled by fantasy, I was fueled by memory. By actual, lived experience.
Eyes closed tightly, I pictured the events of Friday’s post-prom party. I saw Rachel’s plump breasts, nipples hard, rising up and down with each ragged, lusty breath. I felt her wet pussy on my fingers as she orgasmed. I felt her hands run up and down my cock. I saw the hunger on her face as she stroked me…
I jerked faster, my balls tensing as I pictured her fat tits with a hot jet stream of my cum splashed across them; a white, sticky rope of pleasure snapped across perfect, heaving globes.
I grunted out a long-held breath and shot my cum into the shower.
Pressure released, at least for the moment. I let the warm water cascade over me as I reflected once again on what happened afterward–after Rachel, the girl I knew from church, made me cum with her hands.
“Ew, gross” she had said. Not exactly the most flattering thing to hear after you’ve just shot your load. It’s not like I was expecting her to thank me for such a wonderful gift or something, but we had just done something pretty intimate together, and the first thing that entered her mind was “Ew, gross.”
I mean, obviously it WAS gross–I had just shot a bodily fluid onto her hands and chest–but what we had done was also kind of magical, wasn’t it? My mind wandered to Steph’s mom Sandy…to Tara. Sandy seemed to revel in it when that mystery man painted her face and body with his cum; his orgasm seemed to turn her on even more than she already was! And Tara…when I jerked off for Tara, I had put myself in the most vulnerable position imaginable, and when I shot my cum into the air she said it was “Awesome.”
“Ew, gross,” flitted across my mind again.
I knew sex was different with people you care about…maybe Rachel just didn’t care about me. But then again, could I really say I cared about Rachel?
Why did I feel so bad about what happened with Steph? Did I…care about her?
My mind ping-ponged between my screw up with Steph and the sour ending to my first true sexual experience with Rachel. I left the house ready to head to church, and as I fumbled with my car keys I heard a voice from behind me.
“Hey, how’d it go the other night?” it called through deep, panting breaths. It was Sarah, the girl next door, the girl of my dreams, and she was breathing heavily from the run she just returned from. Long fiery hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her pale cheeks and chest stained red from exertion. Deep breaths raised and dropped two large breasts tucked firmly in a blue sports bra.
“It went…” I paused, as “ew, gross” snapped across my mind once again. “…it was fun,” I finally answered. It honestly wasn’t a lie, but the truth also wasn’t as simple as a single answer.
“What about you–how’d your friend do on that test?” I inquired, fishing for info about Steph and the test she and I worked so hard to prepare her for.
“She did really well,” Sarah said, extending her leg out, placing her foot on her front step. Bending over to stretch, the skin tight black leggings she wore left no curve of hers to the imagination. “We did plenty of celebrating,” She smiled.
Traditionally that smile alone was enough to cause a stirring in my loins, but today, backed by my own mental images of what that celebration might have looked like, images of Steph’s face tucked deep between Sarah’s legs, licking her toward orgasmic release, my dick started to surge.
“So are you and this girl like a thing now?” She inquired. The question was an odd one. I wasn’t quite sure why she was taking such an interest in me, or my love life, at all, and definitely unsure as to why now. I puzzled it over as I watched her body twist, her back muscles firing as she stretched.
God, she had a great body. You’d never have guessed based on the figure-hiding ensembles she generally wore to school. At school she hid her breasts, she hid her hips, but here she was comfortable.
“Nah, just…friends,” I offered up, not even really sure where Rachel and I stood at this point
“That’s good,” Sarah said, mid stretch.
“What? Why?” I said, feeling almost offended.
“Just…you know…” she almost choked out, scrambling a bit, “no one to be jealous of your other prom date, that’s all!”
“ah…I see…” I said, feigning understanding. Checking the time, I saw I was late.
We exchanged our pleasantries and I dropped into my car. I watched her ponytail and pert ass bounce as she hopped up the stairs into her house.
At church, my mind was on anything but the sermon.
I thought about the conversation. What an odd thing for Sarah to say. Who would be jealous? Was SHE jealous? Was Sarah secretly into me?
My mind then drifted to Rachel–I was happy she wasn’t there this week. I don’t know if I’d have been able to keep it out of my mind that the hands she raised in worship had so recently been wrapped around my hard cock, had so recently been covered in my jizz.
I thought about Steph.
After the service, as the mingling began, I was greeted as always by a big smile and a hug from Christine, the pastor’s daughter. The smile faded slightly though, and she pushed for us to take our weekly post-church car ride sooner, rather than later.
Agreeing, I headed over to say bye to my step mom Kelly, when I was surprised to see her chatting with Steph’s parents, Sandy and Don! I hadn’t seen them during the service, and I greeted them happily, doing my best not to stare at Sandy’s large, mature breasts, presently clothed in a tight, white, top.
“We miss you around the house!” Sandy said cheerily. I knew she meant helping out Steph, but my mind immediately went to a vision of her, on her knees, sucking a huge cock that didn’t belong to her husband.
“Yeah, we’ll have to have you cat sit when Steph’s off at school with Alex,” offered Don.
Off to school with Alex. Steph passed her test. I smiled. I was happy, but it was bittersweet. I realized that I would be sad when she was gone. I liked hanging out with her. I liked…her.
I liked Steph.
“Oh how rude of me,” Kelly said, turning attention to another person in their small conversation circle. My gaze clicked over to the man standing next to Don. My eyes went wide.
“Brian, this is my step-son Tim, Tim, this is Brian.”
“Great to meet you, Tim,” the man said, extending out his hand. A hand I had seen before, gently cupping Sandy’s face as she stroked his cum into her mouth. It was the mystery third man. A man named Brian.
“Nice to meet you as well,” I choked out.
“The four of us are going out for lunch, so I’ll see you when you get home?” Kelly offered. Was this a double date? Were they trying to set my step-mom up with Brian, the guy with the big cock who covered Sandy in jizz while Don videoed it? Kelly hadn’t been on a single date in the years since my dad died, so maybe it would do her some good to meet someone new, but at the same time…what was she getting into?
I said my goodbyes, and caught up with Christine. We headed off in my car. We got french fries. We talked casually about nothing in particular, and it wasn’t until the second round of fries that we got into the heart of what was bothering her.