Leave It To My Beaver – A 1950’s Era Housewife Fantasy

The following is a sexy parody of the old TV sitcom “Leave It To Beaver”. The names have been changed, but if you liked the TV show, you’ll understand my characters!

It was a hot summer day and the boys were out in the garage working on their bicycles. I was in the house doing some of the seemingly endless vacuuming when in came Ethan Huffington, one of the neighborhood boys.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Chandler, you are looking especially lovely today,” he said in his usual too polite way. Ethan had this way of talking that sounded so condescending and overly polite, it just grated on me. But he was one of my son Willie’s best friends, so I put up with it.

“Thank you Ethan. Can I help you with something?” I asked.

“Yes, Ma’am, would it be okay if I used the restroom? My mother told me that it was polite to ask even if you are a guest in someone’s house,” he said.

“Yes, Ethan, you may use the restroom,” I said. I turned to get back to my work as he went down the hallway to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I had finished vacuuming the living room and Ethan still hadn’t come out of the bathroom. I had to get something from the bedroom anyway, so I went down the hallway and noticed the bathroom door open. ‘That’s odd,’ I thought ‘I don’t remember him coming back through the living room.’ I went on into the bedroom and thats when I caught him – the little shit was going through my underwear drawer!

His back was turned to me so he didn’t see me, and he obviously hadn’t heard me yet. So I stood there for a moment watching him. He finally found what he had been looking for – my cigarettes. He held them up like a trophy.

“Find anything you like in there?” I asked him. Ethan whirled around so fast he nearly fell over and saw me standing in the doorway watching him.

“Oh M-Mrs. Chandler! You startled me!” he said, quickly hiding the cigarettes behind his back. “I-I couldn’t...”

“Stop, Ethan. I don’t want to hear any of your excuses. I know what you have behind your back. I’ve been watching you for a couple minutes. What’s the big idea of coming into my bedroom and going through my underwear drawer? Who told you I had cigarettes in there anyway?” I asked him sternly.

“W-well, that’s where my Mom keeps hers,” he said, “I go in and get one every so often and she doesn’t know. She thinks she smokes more than she does,” he said, looking down.

“I see. Well maybe me and your mother should have a little conversation over your smoking and your snooping around in other peoples underwear drawers,” I said.

“Oh no, Ma’am! Please don’t say anything to my mother! Oh she would be so upset!” he said, a panicked look in his eyes.

About that time I heard the sound of the front door slam and Bobby’s voice calling out. “Mom? Mom?”

“I’m in the bedroom, Bobby!” I called back. Bobby, my youngest, came into the bedroom. “Mom can Willie and I go ride bikes down to the park? They have the water fountain going and all the kids are playing in the water,” he said, excitedly.

“Yes, Bobby you can go. But you be sure to watch out for traffic going and coming and be sure Willie watches out for you,” I told him.

Bobby was a bit hyperactive and terribly scatterbrained sometimes, but he was a good boy and always meant well ... even if it didn’t turn out so good. Willie, my oldest, was 17 this year and more level-headed, although he still let Bobby talk him into things that got them both in trouble.

“Are you gonna come down to the park too, Ethan?” Bobby asked him.

“Bobby, Ethan is going to help me with a couple things first. But he’ll be down there in a little bit. Now scoot!” I told him, hurrying him out the door. When I heard the front door slam again, I turned back to my busybody.

“So Ethan, did you find anything else of interest in my unmentionables?” I asked him, “Besides my cigarettes, that is.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Chandler,” he said, blushing.

I walked slowly and provocatively over to him. I walked around him as he stood there, trailing a finger around his shoulders as I had seen other women do to men in the movies. I felt him tremble and saw him fidgeting nervously. This was fun!

“Oh I think you know exactly what I mean, Ethan. What did you think, feeling the silkiness of my things, seeing my panties and things in that drawer?” I purred.

Ethan whimpered softly ... he didn’t like being in this situation! I could see little beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he stood there. Poor Ethan didn’t know what to do! He knew he couldn’t talk his way out of this one – he’d been caught red-handed. And he couldn’t run off for fear I would tell his mother what he’d been up to. He was trapped like a mouse in a cage and he didn’t like it! I pressed him further.

“Did you take a sniff at my panties, Ethan? Did you try to smell me on the soft silky fabric? Or maybe you just rubbed it against your face – did you do that?” I asked him as I held his chin up with one finger.

“I-no Ma’am!” he said.

“Aww, thats too bad ... because I would have liked to see you smell my panties, Ethan. I would have liked to watch you as you rubbed my dirty used panties over your face,” I cooed.

“You-you would?” he asked, dumbstruck.

“Mmmhmmm ... you see Ethan, dear, I have been watching how you look at me. And to be honest, I have had a few naughty thoughts about you too. Thoughts that make a girl ... well you know, wet.”

“ohhh...” he said, weakly. I saw him start to sway as his knees got wobbly. “I think I need to sit down, Mrs. Chandler.” He sat on the edge of the bed as I continued. I moved up close to his ear so he could feel my hot breath on his cheek.

“Would you like to see more, Ethan? Would you like to see what’s under those panties?” I whispered low in his ear. I heard him gulp and it was all I could do to keep from laughing.

I licked his earlobe and then stood up in front of him. As he looked up and watched, I walked slowly over to the bedroom door and locked it. The boys were at the park, and Warren, my husband, was at the office, so I was sure we were alone. But I just felt safer with the door locked. Besides, it made Ethan feel more trapped and uncomfortable!

Then coming back, I began slowly removing my apron and unbuttoning my blouse. I tossed them onto the floor and by the time I was back in front of Ethan, I wore only my bra up top. I turned around in front of him, “Ethan, be a dear and help me out of this bra, please?” I said, moving my hair out of the way. I felt his shaky fingers fumbling at the clasp, then finally it popped open. I held the bra up and turned around. Watching his face, I removed the bra and showed him my tits.

“You like my tits, Ethan?” I asked him, shaking them slightly. Even though I was in my mid-30’s, I kept myself in pretty good shape. Between caring for a husband and two boys, which kept me busy enough, I jogged and exercised when I could squeeze in the time. I wasn’t huge-breasted ... there were many women I saw at the supermarket that were more well-endowed than I was. But I was still a respectable C cup and more than an eyeful for a youthful 17 year old boy!

“Yes, Ma’am ... they are ... gulp ... very nice,” he said, his voice quaking almost as much as he was. I looked down at him smiling. I noticed he was squirming more on the bed and then I saw why. My little snoop was getting himself quite the hard-on!

“My my, Ethan ... What is this I see? Are you getting excited seeing me like this?” I said as I stroked his swelling manhood. I felt him twitch under my fingertips and I gripped his young, but admirable cock.

“Ohhh...” Ethan moaned and closed his eyes. My son’s best friend was seeing me in a whole new light and I don’t think he was quite prepared for it. However, I was having the time of my life! It was very heartening to know that I was still able to turn a young boy on like this, and it made me fee sexy and appreciated. Don’t get me wrong, my husband Warren still loved me and still was very much attracted to me, but the feeling I got from getting this attention from Ethan really gave my ego a boost!

I couldn’t help myself – suddenly I pushed him back on the bed, laying him down with his feet hanging over the edge. I hiked up my house dress to my waist and crawled up the young man, straddling him on my knees until I was sitting on his lap. I could feel his hardness under me and I wiggled and rocked on his cock as it pressed into my pussy lips and rolled over my clit. God, he felt good! By now I was so horny I could barely focus and stay in charge. I so wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him like a street whore – I was feeling very naughty and very wicked!

I ground my pussy on his hard cock as I unbuttoned his shirt and opened it to reveal his well-built, muscular chest. I ran my hands over his chest and toyed with his hard nipples. I leaned down and kissed his neck, sliding slowly down his body as I kissed my way to his chest. I licked and gently bit at his nipples, causing him to moan again, before I moved still lower.

Ethan reached up and put his hand on the back of my head, running his fingers through my hair and grabbing a handful of my hair in his grip. I loved the feeling – it made me feel cheap and used. Warren, bless his heart, wasn’t really the “fuck ‘em hard and treat them like the whore they are” type, and I craved that. Being a plain housewife in middle of suburbia in the 1950’s wasn’t exactly a recipe for thrills and excitement!

I kissed my way down over his hairless chest and down over his taunt belly, chuckling to myself when my kisses made his stomach twitch. I slid off the edge of the bed between his spread knees as I reached his waist and his belt buckle. I looked up at him and smiled seductively as if waiting for him to give me permission. When he hesitated, I asked him.