Laundry Day
My youngest stepdaughter, Nora, and Ty, her boyfriend, lost their apartment and had to move in with me six months ago. She lost her job and his income wasn't enough to cover their immediate financial challenges.
Luckily, I was there for support and was helping to put a plan in place for them to make a new start in one year. So far the plan was on track.
Rose was able to get a new job with good income, along with his to save for a new place. Everybody was feeling good.
They lived downstairs and I mainly saw them coming and going due to the garage door entrance being our primary in and out.
I would sometimes hear them making love when I came in from work on my late nights. Unbeknownst to them I would tiptoe over to their closed bedroom door and listen to their hot fuck sessions. Although I couldn't make out the words, I could tell they were having some raunchy sessions.
Then I would tiptoe up the stairs with my juices beginning to flow, quickly undress and masturbate while I imagined Ty's hard cock pounding Nora into submission.
By the time I finished, the wet spot I left behind told the story of how damn horny I was. I hadn't been fucked in almost two years and still did not have a significant other.
I noticed recently that Ty started paying closer attention to my bouncing breasts and deep cleavage whenever we passed each other coming and going.
On my off days he began initiating light conversation whenever I would go downstairs to the laundry room to wash clothes, often with only my long terry cloth bathrobe on.
Ty wasn't a big talker, he was the quiet strong type. He recently began to come out of the bedroom to make small talk with me while I loaded the washer, a couple of times without a shirt on, forcing me to avert my roving eyes from his nicely chiseled chest.
I knew he could feel my heat. He began to make a habit of extending our conversations until I walked back upstairs, purposely to watch my well developed ass going up the steps.
Each time I went down to wash or dry he seemed to find a reason to uncharacteristically start a conversation with me or to go to his car, knowing he'd have to pass me on the way.
The door leading to his car in the garage was right next to the laundry room. On those days when I was off, we usually bumped into each other two or three times before he was ready to leave for his second shift job. Lately, it was happening more often.
It was Tuesday, my regular day off and I had already played with my pussy early that morning until I had a light orgasm. I was not satisfied. I needed the real thing.
I needed to feel what I had not felt in a long time, the touch and the excitement of a man's body craving my womanhood like a starving lion.