Sharon unlocked the door and entered Helen's house. Helen, a 29 year old divorcee, was her next door neighbor and best friend. Sharon had promised to tend to her cat while she was out of town. Sharon went in, found the cat food, and put down fresh food and water, but didn't see the cat anywhere. "Oh well," she thought, "she'll come out of hiding when she's hungry."
Since her husband was also out of town, Sharon decided to borrow a video from Helen's collection of tapes. John, had left early this morning for Washington, D.C. He had a conference starting early Monday morning. She spotted, Casablanca, and took it - she loved the old movies. "I haven't seen this in years. It's a good one to watch by myself -- I can cry and not be embarrassed about it," she thought as she locked up and headed home...
Even though it was early afternoon, Sharon got a diet soda, loaded the video in the VCR, and sat down to watch it. The picture flickered for few moments and then the picture finally came on, but it wasn't a movie. It was a home video. Sharon saw Helen with her tits squeezed around a prick as some guy fucked her breasts. The prick was just barely going between Helen's lips each time the guy thrust it forward - she could see Helen's tongue teasing and lick the head of his prick. Then, she watched as the guy's prick started pumping shot after shot of cum onto Helen's face. "Damn, I didn't even know she was going with anyone," mumbled Sharon as she hit pause on the remote. She felt embarrassed; like she was spying on Helen.
Her curiosity won out over her misgivings. "Hell, I might as well watch it. See who it is," muttered Sharon as she clicked the VCR back on. The next scene showed Helen sucking the guy's prick, and then, him cumming on her face again. The scenes were evidently made at different times. Occasionally there would be a date/time shown up in the corner of the picture. Sharon was taking a drink of her soda when the scene changed. Helen was sitting in the guy's lap with his prick clearly buried in her pussy - they were both facing the camera. Startled, Sharon swallowed wrong, choked on the drink, and started coughing. When she got her coughing under control, the scene had changed.
Sharon didn't believe what she had seen. She quickly stopped it, rewound it, and replayed the scene - pausing on the picture of the two. "YOU, SON-OF-A-BITCH," she yelled, hurling the half full can of soda at the television screen. It was her husband... John was screwing Helen. Sharon put her face in her hands, weeping, "Damn you... Damn you. How could you?" After a few minutes, she got her emotions under control, but not her anger, anger at John and at Helen. She restarted the video and watched the remaining 15 minutes or so of John and Helen sucking and fucking each other. Her anger peaked when she noted that the last scene was dated last Thursday night when she was at the women's country club meeting - the one Helen didn't make. Sharon turned the video off, picked up the phone, and punched in the number for the hotel that John had left by the phone.
"Good afternoon, this is the Washington Ambassador Hotel. How can I help you?"
Keeping her voice under control, Sharon replied, "Ms Helen Alperson's room please." If she was there, she would have her own room. The operator said just a moment and Sharon heard the connection and then the ring, once, twice, and on the third ring she heard Helen's voice say, "Hello." Sharon slammed the phone down so hard a large chunk of plastic went flying across the room - she'd broken the handset. "Atlanta... like hell," thought Sharon. "She's there with him - in Washington."
"I'll take his ass to the cleaners," Sharon fumed. "Ten years... married ten years and that bastard does this. I'll make him pay for this... pay until it hurts." Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door chimes. "Who the hell could that be on Sunday," muttered Sharon to herself.
Opening the door, Sharon saw it was Rudy, the college kid that serviced their pool.
"Hi Rudy, what's the matter?"
"Oh I... don't you remember... I called yesterday. You said it would be okay to do the pool today."
"Oh shit!" exclaimed Sharon. Noticing the surprised look on his face, Sharon realized what she had said. "I'm sorry, Rudy... I just forgot. Excuse my language... please, I'm a little upset. I didn't mean to bark at you."
"I could come..."
"No... No, go ahead and do it today. I'm not bothered by that... I just had something else on my mind."
"Thanks Mrs. Watson. I'm sorry I didn't get by yesterday, but I was running real late. It'll only take about an hour and I'll be out of here."
Sharon stood at the plate glass door to the den and watched Rudy as he worked. He was a nice looking kid, 19 or 20, in his first year at the local college. At about six feet tall, in shorts and a tank top, he looked like he might be in to body building or least some kind of strenuous exercise. She was still seething with anger, when a thought suddenly occurred to her. She smiled and whispered to herself, "What's that old saying, 'Don't get mad, get even, ' and she chuckled. "It would serve him right," she said aloud. She turned and almost ran up the stairs, unbuttoning her blouse as she went.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She had put on the skimpiest bikini she had - the one that she never wore in public, only for John. The bra just barely covered her nipples and their aureoles; the bottom was a thong and the small patch of material in the front let her dark pubic hair stick out on all sides. "Damn, I'm getting turned on just thinking about this," she thought as felt the moistness in her pussy. "God, what if I try this and he doesn't want me? I'm 31. I must be 11 or 12 years older than he is." She looked at her image critically, 5'6", 117 pounds, 34-27-35. A brunette with reddish highlights to her short hair who had always wished her tits were bigger. She cupped her breasts in her hands. They were still a handful, with very long, very sensitive nipples that she could feel rubbing against the bra material.
As she walked out to the pool she thought, "I've never even been with another man - Christ, I was virgin when I met John." Rudy was down at the other end of the pool as Sharon called out to him, "Hey Rudy. Take a break... I brought you a beer. It's hot out here." She put the beer down and stretched out on the double lounge chair, the one for two people. She watched him walk toward her. She could see him eyeing her outfit and thought there was a bulge beginning to show in his shorts. "This may be easier than I expected," she whispered softly to herself.
He sat down in a deck chair beside her and they chatted for awhile. She was watching him when she rolled over on her stomach, exposing her naked butt with the thong running up between the cheeks of her ass. Then, when she unfastened her bra strap, the bulge in his shorts definitely got larger. She picked up the lotion and held it out to him, "Rudy, would you rub some lotion on me - I don't want to burn."
"Uh... yeah... sure, Mrs. Watson," he stammered as he got up and sat down on the side of the lounge chair...
As he rubbed the lotion on her back, Sharon said, "Call me Sharon, Mrs. Watson makes me feel too old." Reaching back she patted the left cheek of her ass, "Put a lot of lotion on these... they don't get a lot sun." She heard a mumbled okay then felt his hands massaging her ass, rubbing the lotion in. Her pussy felt like it was flooding with heat and moisture, she must be soaking the front of her bikini. "Oh Rudy, that feels so good, I'll let you do the front too," she said softly as she rolled over on her back letting her bra fall away from her tits.
He was sitting on the side of the lounge chair next to her hip, facing her. She placed one arm on his thigh letting her hand drop casually to the inner side of his leg, her finger tips lightly stroking him... The bulge in his shorts was large, clearly visible, and had to be uncomfortable. "God," thought Sharon, "I'm torturing the kid. I feel like Mrs. Robinson in The Graduate."
.... There is more of this story ...