Copyright© 1990-2003

"There was a young lady of Troy,
Who invented a new kind of joy:
She sugared her thing
Both outside and in,
And then had it sucked by a boy."
-The Pearl No. 1

My name is Louise Smithyrs, and I'm the wife of a wonderful but busy man. I am also the mother of Samantha, Sam for short, a fifteen-year-old rebellious teenager. For three months Sam has been seeing this boy, an eighteen-year-old grade eleven student, who I believe is a bad influence on my daughter. As evidence - she had begun to get bad grades, skipping school, began smoking, swearing... I could go on for a long time, all because of this boy Joel.

I have always been known for my sweet, calm disposition, so when Sam brought this boy home for supper, the first time her father and I met him, I was prepared for the worst, yet planned to act civil, even if I thought my only daughter was sleeping with this delinquent. After several arguments, which left the whole house feeling nervous and uneasy, I finally agreed to let Joel over.

As I thought, the boy that she was holding hands with in the foyer of our home looked just as I feared. He had long hair, unshaven beard, thin face and pale complexion. His torn jeans showed more than they hid, and he had a gleam in his eye that I immediately didn't like. He shook my hand - it was warm and dry, and he lingered for what seemed like a long time. They went to the living room to await dinner, and I went to the kitchen to get the supper set.

I finished what needed to be done, mindlessly, while thinking of how to get my beloved daughter away from that loser. The way she hung over him, always kissing his neck, the mindless giggle she did whenever he spoke - it all grated upon my nerves. My daughter deserved better than "that". She was gorgeous and smart and could be anything she wanted, if only she didn't get into the wrong crowd.

Our home life was mediocre, boring. It was the life I chose after having a father that moved all over the world and who was rarely home, since he was in the army. Sure, I was unsatisfied with my lot in life, but wasn't about to throw that away. I had lived the way I had for sixteen years, mostly for my daughter, to give her the home life I never had.

I called everyone to the dining room. With the swinging door wide open I began to lift a plate heaped with food onto the large round table. I was about to get the last platter with the roast beef when I noticed Joel was sitting next to my spot, and able to see out the kitchen. I didn't think much of it at the time.

The first indication that something was wrong was when I felt like I was being watched as I was bent over the oven pulling out the still hot roast, an almost physical touch as I could feel eyes looking at my bum. I turned around while still bent over, my hands busy. There was Joel, his eyes gleaming as he stared unabashed at my round bottom. He noticed my startled look and smiled into my surprised eyes, then smugly returned to studying my ass.

My hand slipped from the tray, but luckily I caught it before a real mess happened. Quickly I set the pan down on the counter, still feeling the boy's eyes on my backside. I inventoried my clothes - was there something he could see? Nothing. I was wearing a loose summer skirt and blouse, flat shoes and had my hair tied up in the back. Just before I was about to lift the platter to the dining room, I realized the sunlight streaming in from the large window above the sink was filtering through my thin skirt and allowing the boy a glimpse of my shape. Of course I was wearing underwear, so nothing could actually be seen, except perhaps my bright white panties, but I knew my indications of the young man had been right.

Joel watched me walk all the way into the dining room, his eyes not leaving my long still-thin legs and crotch area. I almost lost my step as my left foot tripped over my right. Luckily, again I missed having a terrible mess. The large oval plate was set down between my daughter and her boyfriend. My husband complemented my on the meal he hadn't begun yet, while handing me the carving knife and fork, giving me the honours.

The three of them were making small talk when I thought I felt the bottom of my skirt move. I froze for a second then returned to cutting the large juicy roast. Softly and gently a warm hand lay on the back of my lower thigh. Joel was touching me. I stopped carving and looked down at the little snot, and had to control myself when he smiled innocently at me - brave since I was still holding a large knife. What should I do? Tell my husband, scream rape, carve up the "turkey"?

I went back to the roast and ignored the hand, hoping he would tire and drop it. Besides, it hadn't moved an inch. I knew now would not be a good time to convince my daughter of her boyfriend's devious ways. Later would be better, easier on her, since even I remember the hurt of losing a young love.

My teeth bit into my bottom lip as his rough hand slid up the back of my thigh. I almost screamed my hurt and frustration was he slid up to cup my left buttock in a firm grip. I had figured the little shit would be as nervous as I when he touched me - just overactive hormones. But I was wrong. He was dangerous, and I had to get rid of him somehow without hurting Sam, and fast.

I could feel my face flush, and I struggled to finish the roast, hoping to get this meal over as fast as possible. The hand was pushing itself into the crack of my ass, pressing the cotton panties and two fingers deep into the crevice until I felt it press against the hard bud of my anus. He didn't stay there long, but took his fingers out of my crack and expertly slipped them under the elastic leg band of my panties. His hand was now cupping a naked warm buttock, squeezing hard, pulling them apart, slapping silently. I knew no one could see his movements behind me, yet hoped.

I tightened my ass cheeks and pressed my legs together, not wanting him to explore lower into my groove. He had been about to slide his fingers into the crack when I tightened my still-muscular cheeks. I again looked down, and had to control myself, feeling the urge to stick the fork into his eye. He surprised me with a painful pinch on my full ass, and I jumped.

My answer to my husband's obvious question was that I had almost cut my finger. He believed me, and since I was almost done, he let me finish.

Well, Joel had succeeded in getting his fingers into my ass crack; one was even trying to enter my tight virgin anus. I tried to ignore the humiliation I felt as my backside was opened for his amusement. I felt his thick digit enter a full inch into my tight rear hole, and held back tears of rage and pain.

Finally, I finished carving the meat and pulled away from his grasp, sitting down in my seat. My husband said grace, and then we all dug into the meal. I half expected the little-shit to again grab my thigh, but since my leg was under the table I could easily stab him with a fork. But he ignored me and spoke charmingly to my husband and daughter.

A movement in the corner of my eye caused me to turn towards Joel and my daughter. Joel had turned his chair towards me slightly, giving me a view of his lap. And there over his crotch was my daughter's dainty little hand, rubbing along the obvious bulge in his pants. Neither of their faces revealed anything, except he turned towards me and flashed a smile of triumph my way.

God, I hated him!

I had to get rid of him as soon as possible, to prove to my daughter what kind of boy he was. If nothing else he was definitely lacking in the social graces. And my daughter was too good for him. My eyes continued to look upon the sight of Sam's hand stroking the large man-organ inside the boy's pants. A part of me, deep inside, wanted to see what it looked like.

Supper over, my husband made his apologies and left to go to work. Sam said they were going to a movie, but Joel interrupted and asked to see her room. Of course my daughter agreed - she coddled the little shit. He sat while my daughter helped clear the table, something she never did.

Joel patted my behind as I walked by. I spun about to verbally abuse him when he spoke up. "You're a gorgeous broad Mrs. Smithyrs - great ass!" My face must have shown my hate. "Next I want to feel those big titties of yours!" His smile showed his fearless lust. Just when I was about to tell the shit to go to hell, Sam walked in. I went to the kitchen and didn't go back into the dining room until I heard the two of them close the door to my daughter's room.

I know I was unnecessarily sneaking around and should have just thrown the bugger out, but something inside me caused my heart to pump wildly. I sneaked down the hall to my daughter's room; I could hear Joel's deep voice but couldn't make out the words. So I crept around to the spare bedroom and the adjoining bathroom to Sam's room.

The door to my daughter's room was open slightly, and I could hear Joel talking. "Wider, babe, show me how it's done." I reached the door and peeked around the corner. I almost fainted to the bathroom floor.

There, lying on her bed, was my daughter; her jeans were off and her panties around only one ankle. Sam's right hand was sliding up and down the length of her spread crotch, her legs as wide as she could get them. Unfortunately, she was facing me.

Joel was sitting near the end of the bed facing my daughter, studying her. "You're a great piece of tail, Sam, a woman of twenty-five couldn't be better looking. Slide a finger up your snatch, girl!"

Two pairs of eyes watched as my daughter slid a finger up her slightly-open vagina, and when she withdrew it, it was coated with a clear film of juice. My daughter was masturbating with that slime watching her, ordering her. If there was a gun in the house, I believe I would have shot him.