I met Angie when I was 15. She, her husband and young son moved into the house next door to my parents.
She was gorgeous. Slim and blonde, a little shorter than I was at the time, and with a smile to die for. A teenager's dream. My crush quickly developed.
My secret adoration continued, but about three years after they had moved into the house, things began to go wrong for Angie and her husband. They separated and eventually divorced.
This was, of course, music to the ears of the horny 18-year old I had become. Despite my best efforts, my cherry remained frustratingly intact. Girls and I got on alright, but none of them seemed to want to get hot and sweaty with me.
Angie had now become the ultimate teenage object of desire. A beautiful and sexy divorcee living right next door. As you might expect, my hormone-addled brain convinced me that I might have a chance with her if she saw me around enough. So I became a regular visitor. Helping her out with her garden and car, moving furniture around the house, and babysitting her son when she decided she wanted to go out with her girlfriends.
This continued for a couple of months. I was confident I was making progress. The signs were there. A kiss on the cheek here, a pat on the bum there. My mind magnified each of these events into fuel for my frequent solo fantasy sessions under the bedclothes.
Then, one evening after she had gone out with her friends, my youthful hopes and dreams were shattered. I heard her key in the door and turned to smile at her. Only to see two people coming through the door. Angie and a man. He was tall, he was well-dressed, he had parked his flash Jaguar on the driveway. I couldn't compete, and even my lust-filled teenage senses could see it. I smiled and shook his hand. Then I left, trudging the short distance to our house, feeling utterly dejected. The Jaguar was still on the driveway the next morning.
I continued to help her out. Still clinging to my faint hopes, I baby-sat a couple more times over the next week or two.
Before she went out she would always say that I should help myself to anything I wanted if I was hungry. This particular evening I was grabbing myself some biscuits, which were kept on top of a cupboard in the kitchen, when my fingers brushed something hard and plastic. Further investigation revealed it to be a video cassette.
Intrigued, I popped the tape into the machine. The picture came on in a fuzz of static. I pressed the remote to fast-forward the picture, and after a few seconds it resolved into a bedroom. A few seconds after that I realised that it was Angie's bedroom.
Then my heart threatened to burst through my chest as Angie, the love of my young life, the woman I had spent all those evenings masturbating over, walked into the shot completely, utterly, totally, stark naked.
I sat transfixed as she lay on the bed and idly ran her hand between her thighs. I realized that my jeans were now painfully tight around my crotch, so I opened them and began to wank my cock, all without removing my eyes from the screen.
I don't know how long I watched for as she was joined on the bed by her boyfriend. She sucked him, he spread her wide open right in front of the camera and licked and fingered her and finally he pushed her legs back and thrust his cock inside her. My eyes wouldn't leave the screen.
Suddenly I was jerked back to reality. A car had pulled up outside. I peeked between the closed curtains. It was a taxi, and Angie was getting out. It was much earlier than I had expected her to be back. I stuffed my erection back into my pants, hurriedly ejected the tape and flung it back atop the cupboard hoping that it wouldn't be noticed that it was no longer at the beginning.
I had just managed to sit back down when she came through the door. I could see straight away that she had been crying. Her eyes were red and a little mascara had run on to her cheeks.
I went over to her and asked what was wrong. She told me that she had had a blazing row with her boyfriend and left him in the club they had been at. She was slurring slightly, so I knew that she had had one or two drinks.
She hugged me and began to cry again. I held on to her. As close as she was to me, she couldn't help but notice my erection, still painfully hard from watching her on video, now pressed into her belly.
After a couple of minutes, she seemed to calm down. She looked up at me, "What's this?" she asked, rubbing her stomach against my dick, leaving me no doubt about what she was referring to.
"I-I'm sorry..." I stammered.
She was there in my arms. Her perfume filling my nostrils. The movement of her body against me arousing me even further. I couldn't hold back, it all came out in a rush. " I love you Angie. I have since the day I first saw you. I wish...I mean, I want..."
