Sleeping Beauty

It's a mixture of shame and pride that I feel when I reminisce about the night I had sex with my son's girlfriend. Well, that sounds more polite than what actually happened. It makes me cringe to say it, but the fact is that I didn't do anything as sterile and euphemistic as "had sex" with her. I fucked her. Saying it makes me embarrassed, yet it also gives me an erection, which makes me feel bad all over again. But the memory is so compelling that I keep returning to it over and over -- I have probably masturbated remembering it at least fifteen times. I'm hoping that when I write this and get it off my conscience the thoughts will abate.

To keep this as anonymous as I can, I will use pseudonyms...Let's just say my son's name is Kyle, and he is a senior at the local public high school in the suburb of Cincinnati where we live. His girlfriend is "Kellie," also a senior, although she is eighteen. (I may be a traitorous scumbag, but I'm not a criminal!) From the minute Kyle brought her home I have been attracted to her. She's amazing -- perfect, even. She has long, dark brown hair which she normally keeps back in a ponytail, and light green eyes. Her skin is smooth and glowing, with a healthy tan that she has achieved largely by laying out by our pool all summer in her bikini. God, the times that I have looked out the window and watched her sprawled on a towel, only a piece of tied nylon across her back and the snug bottoms of her bathing suit hugging her round little ass so tightly. When she is on her back her breasts are firm enough to lay high on her chest and her bathing suit stretches wonderfully taut across her little mound. I can't help but compare her to my wife, fifty years old with breasts that sag into her armpits when she lays on her back and a vagina loosened by two births. Kellie's body is so firm and lean and young. Her legs and arms so slender, and her face so fresh and beautiful...I'm sure you can tell she drives me wild.

I had known that Kyle and Kellie were having sex before the night of the "incident." There was one late night when I was up with horrible insomnia that I heard Kyle's bedsprings creaking through the wall. I started listening harder and was able to hear Kellie making little noises, grunts and moans. I lay there next to my sleeping wife as I listened -- with a raging erection, I need not add -- to my son's girlfriend cum. God, when I write it all out like that it seems so sordid...and I guess it is.

Anyway, I will get to that night. My wife and I had gone to a friend's cocktail party. We had driven separately since we had both come from work. Kyle was on a camping trip with some buddies, and, as he was our usual sitter, we had recruited Kellie to watch our youngest -- Vanessa, 11 years old. That night I was tired from a long day and had gotten pretty buzzed at the party and left a bit early. My wife left as well but headed off to the house of a friend of hers to talk about some redecorating plans over a nightcap. So I arrived home alone around 11:30. When I walked into the living room it was fairly dim, only lit by the tv and a small lamp on the end table. Kellie was asleep on the couch, sprawled rather sloppily on her back in a skirt and tank top. Her legs were slightly parted, and I couldn't help but take advantage of the situation to have a little peek up her skirt. All I could see was a faint blur of her panties, but even that was enough to make my cock start twitching. I might be 53 but I'm not dead! I walked over close to the couch to turn on the brighter lamp on the other end table and kicked something under the couch. When I bent down to pick it up I was surprised to find a pint of booze. Vodka, actually. Empty. I was pissed at first and tried to wake Kellie up to give her a piece of my mind about drinking while she was responsible for my daughter. But she didn't respond to my saying her name or even to my shaking her shoulder. Then another thought occurred to me.

She was drunk and dead to the world. Surely she wouldn't wake up if I touched a tit. I should have just stopped then and told myself I was being ridiculous, but I didn't. I reached out and softly cupped her right breast. God it was so perfect, it filled up my hand, a soft little globe. I tried to find her nipple with my fingers but it was difficult to make it out through her bra. So my next idea was to pull her shirt up and have a little look, just to satisfy my curiosity, I told myself. I looked around the living room to make sure that Vanessa wasn't sleeping somewhere nearby, then slowly, slowly pulled the hem of Kellie's shirt up. I had to sort of pull it up under her back, too, which was tricky and took some time, but eventually I got the shirt hem up to her armpits. Her bra was white and made out of a see-through lace. I could make out the light pink of her nipples through the fabric. Now I was raging hard. So what do you think I did? I lifted up the bottom of her bra over her titties. They were two triangles of white in the middle of her tanned torso, topped by soft, slightly puffy pink nipples. I palmed one of them. They were warm and soft, and I tickled her nipple with my finger really softly. It puckered up and got stiff. Kellie didn't even stir. I hardened up her other nipple.

I got down on my knees beside the couch and leaned over and, looking out of the side of my eyes so that I could see her face and watch for any signs of waking, I sucked on one of her young breasts. I didn't even think about them being the same breasts that my son probably sucked and licked. And then I did what was to me the next logical step and pulled up the bottom of her skirt. She had panties that matched the bra -- sheer lacy white. I picked up her nearest leg by the knee and calf and pulled it to the side so that her lower leg dangled off the side of the couch. I reached between her legs and pulled her panties gently to the side -- just to look, I said. Her little peach was smooth as a baby's bottom -- not a hair or even stubble in sight. Her lips were parted and her clit poked out ever so slightly. Surely she wouldn't wake if I just stroked her with a fingertip. I ran the tip of my index finger gingerly up the crack of her pussy, up over her clit, and sure enough she slept on. I wriggled a fingertip inside her hole. She was wet -- must have been having a good dream. I had to taste her.

I carefully pulled her legs to the front of the couch and gently set her heels on the floor. I inched her panties off of her hips, down her legs, and finally off of her feet. After a moment's consideration, I pulled her legs apart wide enough to fully expose her pussy. She slept peacefully, unaware of the slutty, brazen posture of her body. I got back down on my knees between her legs and leaned in. With both of my index fingers, I pulled her pussy lips wide open and allowed myself a long look at the beautiful, pearl pink of her vulva. I could smell her: that warm, salt-scented tang of fresh pussy. I moved my face between her slender, tanned thighs and wriggled the tip of my tongue into her vagina. I pulled my tongue back into my mouth to taste her -- she was sweet and fresh and salty like tears. I can exactly remember the taste as I type -- as well as all the guilt and fear of discovery that I felt even as my penis strained at the front of my slacks. I slid my tongue back inside her and surreptitiously fucked her with the tip of my tongue. I moved my mouth up and suckled her clit gently. Her left thigh twitched against my ear and I stopped in horror, thinking that perhaps she had woken up. But after a pause of 30 seconds or so I felt comfortable enough to get back to it. I started slowly circling my tongue in circles around her clit, and noticed that it had become slightly fat and swollen. I was turning her on.

By now I had a hard-on like I hadn't had in literally years. My cock and balls were pounding and aching. I undid my pants and pulled my cock out with the thought of stroking myself off while I continued to eat her out, and directly afterwards putting her panties back on and laying her back down, perhaps with a blanket over her to complete the appearance of innocence. Instead I gently gripped her hips and pulled her ass to the edge of the couch. I remember I could barely breathe as I got up on my knees and sort of waddled up between her legs. On the tv a newscaster was talking about a water main break that had flooded a local elementary school, and I remember making a note that it hadn't been Vanessa's. With the thumb and index finger of my left hand I spread Kellie's labia, then leaned over and let a glob of spit fall onto her. I was aiming for her hole, but hit her clit instead. I watched the saliva run down over her little pink nub, down in between her inner labia and finally pool in the opening of her vagina.

With my right hand I grabbed my erection and steered it toward her. When the head of my cock reached her entrance I rubbed it around to slick up the head; I rubbed it up and down the opening of her vagina, then briefly over her clit until all of her vulva was shining and wet. Then I returned the head of my cock to the opening of her cunt and -- going agonizingly slow -- eased the tip of my erection inside her. I watched the fat, swollen head of my cock slowly disappear underneath her juicy, swollen clit, and felt it enter the slick, hot velvet of her cunt. I wish I could properly describe how tight and elastic she felt, and how her pussy felt like it was gripping me. I spat in my right palm and started to jerk off, just holding the tip of my penis inside her. When I stopped holding her lips apart with my left hand, they naturally spread out slightly around my cock so that her clit was still exposed. I should mention that I have been gifted with a larger-than-average penis. It's not porn-star quality by any means, but it is nearly 8 inches long and -- a feature that I know my wife once enjoyed -- quite thick. I don't know the exact circumference. So it wasn't too difficult for me to start masturbating while half inside her.

The only real problem was that I couldn't keep myself from pushing further and further inside Kellie, until I finally dropped all pretense of masturbating and took my hand away. I worked myself up in her cunt until I was all the way inside her. I could feel the head of my cock pressed against her cervix. Her pussy felt so tight that it was almost like it was squeezing me back out. Once again I compared Kellie to my wife, whose vagina had lost most of its elasticity. I could only get real enjoyment out of it in certain positions where my wife's legs weren't spread very wide, thus making at least the outside of her vagina tighter. Kellie was entirely different. It reminded me of having sex when I was a teenager -- both the feel of her and the quality of my erection and arousal.

I tenderly put my forearms under Kellie's knees and lifted them onto my shoulders, then leaned over her with my hands on the couch cushion at her sides. I couldn't hold back anymore. The only thing I could think of was just to fuck her fast enough to make me cum before she woke up. I started to thrust in and out of her. I could feel my balls pressing against her firm little ass. Her tits jiggled slightly with every stroke. It was heaven. In less than a minute I felt my balls tightening up, and I was unable to stifle a groan. Suddenly her legs came to life on my shoulders! She stirred and mumbled my son's name! There was no stopping now. I needed to cum fast. I started jackhammering into her cunt, and her eyes fluttered open. She said my son's name again, boozy and slurring. I said her name, I don't know why, and felt my balls shift and my cock surge and strain in her tight, young little cunt. I knew I should have pulled out, but instead I drove into her as deep as I could and unleashed what felt like a pint of semen inside her. I was trying not to make any noise but wasn't very successful. It was the most intense orgasm I think I have ever had. Just as my cock was finishing it's final contractions, Kellie said "Mr. Hammond?" sounding very puzzled indeed. I panicked. I yanked my penis out of her and fumbled it back into my pants. Her legs flopped limply back onto the floor but her arms were moving and her eyes were struggling to focus.

"C'mon, honey," I said as I stood up, then pulled her up. I had to literally hold her up as I straightened her skirt back down over her ass. There was no time to mess with her panties, she was becoming alert quickly. I pushed her panties underneath the couch with my shoe, then quickly steered her toward the door. Her legs were buckling under her the whole way, and I practically had to drag her. "We need to get you home, it's late," I kept telling her, trying to sound normal. I dragged her out of the house and plopped her into the front seat of my car. As I helped her with her seatbelt I noticed that her bra was still up around her armpits and her tits were hanging out. No time to fix it - at least not in my driveway, where my wife would be arriving any minute now. I backed out of the driveway and drove off.

Those are the most important details. I got her home and had to watch her stagger into her house, hoping and praying that her parents didn't wake up and notice her state of disarray. I wondered what she would think in the morning when she awoke with a pussy full of cum...I hoped that she would attribute it to Kyle. The fact that I had ejaculated inside of her set me off on several panicked trains of thought. Pregnancy, DNA tests, that sort of thing. As of writing this, to my knowledge no one has found out about what I did. I found out that Kellie was taking my wife's pain medication, and had probably taken some of it that night, which would explain her absence of response during the act and absence of memory afterwards. Even though I had busted her abusing alcohol and drugs in the house, I didn't prohibit Kyle from seeing her. She still comes over all the time. Honestly, I am secretly waiting and wondering if I will ever get another golden little opportunity like the last time. The thought sickens and intrigues me. Every time I look at her, I remember what her little cunt looked like wrapped around my cock. My writing this detailed description -- aside from giving me an exhibitionistic thrill -- will hopefully dull these memories and give me some peace. I hope that you got some enjoyment at my expense.