I love Fridays. Fridays I start drinking in the late afternoon. I’m not an alcoholic, it’s just that I need to unwind once a week after chasing my two kids and husband, and doing all the housework. We make a point to get the kids out of the house on Fridays. My husband usually drops my daughter at my parents’ and we give enough money to Jason, my son who is a high-schooler, for going to the movies or whatever.
Then my husband comes home and we have drunk, wild sex.
This Friday was different though. Kids weren’t at home as usual, my daughter was staying at a friend’s and Jason had called me to say he’d be a bit late after school. The difference was hubby wasn’t going to be home today. He was out of town for work.
Still, I’m a woman of habit so I started my usual Friday routine. First, I had a couple glasses of wine so I was tipsy, and then went to bathroom. I shaved every bit of hair on my body for starters. Then I stood in front of the mirror to enjoy the view. I’m 34 and I’m proud to say I can pass for 24. I run three days a week and go to yoga class every other day. As a result, my body is toned and firm. I’m only 5’2” but looking into mirror I liked what I see: long shapely legs for my petite frame, C cup and firm breasts, nice round bottom and slim waist. I winked at myself in the mirror, I liked my heart shaped face, green eyes and shoulder length brown hair. Then I climbed into the tub and took a long, hot shower.
When I climbed out of the bath I looked at the image in the mirror and smiled, I was all bare and pink. I went to my bedroom and I painted my nails and toes red as usual. Then I felt a pang of remorse, wishing my husband was here so we could enjoy the night. But, alas, he wasn’t, so I decided to make the best of my evening. I was going to have a few more glasses of wine, watch TV, then go upstairs to my bedroom to masturbate my brains out.
Usually I wear something sexy but today I decided not to. So I wore a white t-shirt and a short denim skirt but I rejected wearing a bra. I couldn’t let myself wear flip-flops though, so I chose a sexy pair of high wedges with open toes.
With the plan in mind, I went to kitchen and filled another glass of wine. The bottle was already half empty, and I was beyond tipsy at this point; I did not care. I watched TV idly and giggled at stupid things. Life was good, two kids and a wonderful husband. I smiled inwardly, feeling content and happy.
It was early evening when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was my son I went to the door. Instead, I was surprised to see his friend, Henry. Nobody calls him Henry though, they use his nickname.
“Hey Elephant,” I said cheerily looking up at him.
“God damn Mrs. Reynolds, not you too,” he said.
“Ok, ok sorry Henry, hi.”
“John told me to meet him here, can I come in?”
“Sure come in, but John isn’t here,” I said. He smiled mysteriously at my response and said, “It’s alright, you can keep me company.”
Henry was my son’s best friend. He was more like a big brother to him, Henry being a senior and Jason a sophomore. Henry used to bully Jason when he started high school, but I arranged a meeting with him and his mother, that they hit it off and were inseparable.
He walked into living room and being a bit drunk I checked him out. Henry was huge, in all aspects. He was easily 6’4” and towered above me, even when I was in high heels. He worked out everyday, as he liked to boast so often, so he was muscle-bound. Thick legs, thick arms, broad shoulders, I couldn’t suppress a smile checking out his butt; he must have liked squats, like me.
He sat on the couch and looked up at me, momentarily glancing at my breasts. I remembered I wasn’t wearing a bra and his glance made me a bit uncomfortable, so I crossed my arms in front of me. In response he dropped his eyes to my legs and to my painted toes then up to my face again, smiling innocently.
“So what’s up?” he said.
“Tonight? Tonight’s menu is TV and wine for me. I guess TV and coke for you,” I said.
“Eh come on. You know my birthday was last week and I turned eighteen.”
“That’s not quite twenty-one you know. No wine for you mister, sorry,” I said as I sat on the coach.
“By the way, since I’m eighteen, you don’t have to wait anymore to date me.” He said looking at my legs. I crossed them too.
“Ah, such a flatterer. What would you do with an old mom like me?” He sighed turning to TV and muttered “A lot of things Jenny, a lot of things.” I wasn’t sure he said that exactly so I pretended not to hear him.
We watched the TV for a while in silence. He stole glances at me a lot and I noticed a small bulge forming in front of his shorts. I pretended not to notice.
Finally he said, “You look especially lovely today”.
So that was it, he was hitting on his friend’s mom. Feeling naughty, flirting back seemed like a tempting option, especially since I was so drunk. If I was sober, if I was my usual self, I wouldn’t dare to act like that. But I smiled at him and said, “Thank you, you are just saying that,” giggling like a stupid school girl.
“I’m not, you are the hottest woman in town.”
I didn’t reply but giggled again and turned to TV, then I said, “Well if you want that coke it’s in the fridge.”
“I was hoping you could get it for me.”
“Why is that?” I said.
“I want to watch you sway those hips,” he said. I chuckled and reached to punch his arm playfully. Damn that’s a lot of muscle, I thought, feeling his firm arm under my knuckles.
Then, surprising myself, I stood up and walked slowly out of the room, swaying my hips. Before leaving the living room I glimpsed back to see if he was watching. His eyes were glued to my bottom and when he noticed me looking back, his eyes rose to my face. I smiled at him and he returned it.
“Whatever the mighty Elephant wants,” I said and went to the kitchen.
This wasn’t how I usually behaved. I’m a married mom, I don’t flirt with guys half my age. But wine had gotten to me and I was enjoying this little game between us too much.
I grabbed a coke from the kitchen and topped my glass with wine and went back to the living room. I stood in front of him and leaned down comically so that I gave him a good view my cleavage. He licked his lips while staring down my t-shirt hungrily and took the coke.
Again we watched TV in silence for some time. He was stealing glances more often now and I finally turned to face him. An attractive, youthful face. Dark hair and dark eyes with a strong jaw. I didn’t think he had any problem with girls.
Suddenly a thought occurred to me. I said, “Why do they call you Elephant?”
“Why do you think?” he said looking a bit angry.
I didn’t care, I was beyond drunk to care offending an eighteen-year-old boy.
“Probably you were fat in middle school and the name stuck?”
“Wrong. Not even close Jenny.” He said shaking his head grinly.
I didn’t particularly care for being called by my first name by him, but I let it go being curious.
“Why then?” I said.
“Well…” he looked oddly shy and apprehensive now, quite unlike himself. Trying to find words for half a minute he finally said, “Maybe I’ll tell you later in the evening.”
“Ok then,” I said and shrugged.
Again we were back to the TV. I sipped my wine and he sipped his coke silently. The problem was our flirting had gotten me a bit wet. Every stolen glance fanned the flames more. I just wanted to go upstairs and masturbate.
“Have you called John, it’s been an hour you know,” I said turning to him.
“Yeah, I sent him a message. He’ll be here soon,” he said.
We resumed watching TV, chatting and laughing and flirting. He showered me with compliments and kept checking me out; I had to admit I loved the attention. This wasn’t like me, but my body was used to sex on Fridays, and I had half a bottle of wine in me already. He complimented me on everything: my nail polish, my cute toes, my t-shirt, my calves. Always being polite but bordering on inappropriateness.
I was now feeling horny, drunk and impatient. But I felt it would be rude to leave him alone here and go upstairs, so I stayed. I finally got up and went to bathroom. My face was flushed and my nipples were hard. They were clearly visible through my t-shirt. No wonder the boy was paying more attention to me than the TV. I checked my panties and they were damp. I ran a finger over my clit and a moan escaped my lips. I wanted to masturbate right there and then, but I decided it would be too weird with him in the house.
I walked back to the living room and my legs were wobbling. I misstepped and almost fell down but I recovered. His eyes were on me the whole time. Then I took another step and almost sprained my ankle. I shouldn’t have drunk so much.
“Oh boy, I should stop wearing heels at home,” and with that I took my pumps off and sat on the couch rubbing my now bare sole. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t care as we sat in the living room not saying a word. I put my foot down eventually and reached for my glass of wine taking a big sip. I knew I should have stopped already but feeling buzzed; I didn’t care. Again I put the glass down and pulled up my other foot and rubbed my sole.
“I can do that for you, you know,” he said with an air of innocence about him. I was surprised and I didn’t lift my eyes to meet his and just ignored the offer, rubbing my sole and enjoying the relief.
He rose up without a word and the next moment he was kneeling in front of me looking up. “Let me do that for you,” he repeated again as I met his eyes. I stopped rubbing my foot and put it down.
“You want to rub my feet?” I asked feeling a bit curious, trying to sound stern.
“I want to massage them, yes,” he said.
“That would be… a little bit inappropriate don’t you think?” I replied looking into his pleading eyes.
“Why? It’s just a foot rub,” he said sitting there looking at me innocently. I looked down at him at a loss of words. I dimly realized that I hadn’t exactly pushed my legs together, so from his position he could just see up my denim skirt and see my panties. But to his credit his eyes kept fixed on mine instead of letting them wander down between my legs. I demurely pushed them together anyways.
“I’m drunk and it’s a bit late. I think you need to call John and wait outside,” I said. I was suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable.
“It’s still early. Tell you what, let me give you a foot massage and I’ll call him.”
“Just a foot rub?” I said reluctantly. To be honest it didn’t sound like an awful idea. For one thing I love getting foot rubs, for another I was drunk out of my mind. Still, I felt in control of the situation. It’s hard not to feel in power when you are looking down on man half your age and twice your size pleading with you.
“Yes, then I’ll leave.”
I’m not dumb, so of course knew that he was going to get off on rubbing my feet. But to my drunk self didn’t see any problem in that since I felt in control. If he was going to get a hard on touching my feet, and then run off home to masturbate, that felt totally OK. At least at that moment since I planned to the same later.
Another thing was I just loved foot rubs and my husband just didn’t. How gullible did this boy think I was? I straightened up using my arms to support my upper body so I could look down on him more. I suppressed the urge to just put my sole on his face and push him away.
“Maybe if you beg,” I said, as a giggle escaped my mouth.
For one fleeting moment I caught his eyes flash with fury, but it passed quickly and his pleading look returned.
“Please…” he said after hesitating for a moment.
“And then you’ll leave.”
“I promise, I just want you to give you some relief and then I’ll leave.”
“Good boy. Ok, go on then.” I smiled as I raised my right foot in front of his face wiggling my toes.
He took my foot in his big hand with the thumb rubbing my sole in long strokes. He held my ankle with his free hand to keep my foot steady.
I have to admit that it felt heavenly, he knew what he was doing. He moved his thumb under each toe, stretching them gently. A moan escaped my mouth. I put my hand over my mouth and blushed a bit. I could feel the growing dampness between my legs and had to push my skirt down hoping he could not see.
He must not have noticed either of the motions because he stayed focused on my little foot, which looked like a toy in his big hand. His other hand has rose to my calf and massaged the muscle as he ran his fingers above my foot. Getting ticklish I tried to pull my foot away but he held it firmly. His other hand had risen under my knee and I felt I had to stop him.
“That’s high enough Henry.”
He stopped and for the first time since he started he looked up at me. What I saw in his eyes was a mixture of hunger and anger, and for one moment I felt fear. Fortunately he let go of my leg but lifted my foot to his face and placed a wet kiss on top.
I was surprised but not as much as I was aroused. Somehow this lit a fire between my legs, and it was starting to spread to my stomach. One part of my brain knew that I should put an end to this and soon. But I kept silent as he took my other foot in his hands and again started rubbing my sole gently.
A foot rub shouldn’t have felt this good, but it did. His other hand was quicker this time, rising up to under my knee, but I said nothing. Again he started stretching my toes one by one, from the pinky to the big toe.
One part of me wanted to prolong this as long as possible since it felt so good. My pussy was on fire and I was sure I had ruined my panties. Another part of me wanted to end this as soon as possible so that I could kick him out, go upstairs and masturbate till my eyes rolled. Moans were escaping from my mouth freely and I didn’t care.
When he got to stretching the big toe, pushing under it with his thumb he lowered his face and took it in his mouth. It felt odd and dirty, but I loved it. Still I managed to remember that I was a married woman and this boy who is my son’s former bully and current best friend is the last person I should allow to pleasure me in this way. I put my other foot on his shoulder and tried to move him back. But as much as I pushed he didn’t budge an inch.
He stopped sucking my toe and let go of my foot but started planting kisses on it. His lips kept moving upwards, first my ankle up to my knee.
“Henry that’s enough,” I said, but he ignored me as he placed his hands on my knees. He looked up at my flushed face with a smile. I pushed my legs together as hard as I could.
“You promised to leave after giving me a foot rub. It is over. Now leave.”
“I promised to leave only after I give you some relief.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I said, mustering as much anger as possible.
“I’m talking about genuine relief Jenny, the kind you need,” he said, rising up.
He just stood in front of me, and I stared at the comically large bulge in front of his shorts.
“Do you really want to know why they call me Elephant?”
“What?”
Without a word he slowly pushed his shorts down and then his boxers. What come into view made me gasp and cover my mouth. In front of me was a huge cock, as thick as my arm, curved obscenely upwards, purple and green veins running alongside and precum already seeping from the tip. I suppressed an urge to just reach forward, stick my tongue out and catch the precum before it hit the floor. I didn’t do that of course, instead I used my mouth to chide him.
“Are you out of your mind Henry?”
“I am not Mrs. Reynolds, I mean Jenny. Your husband is out of town, and I know John is on a date now.”
I was speechless. My eyes never left…