ABANDONED PT 1 THE PERFECT PENIS

It was a warm, sultry Saturday evening. Oscar, his wife, Rachel, their son Dave, and Dave's best friend, Hank Morris were eating supper.

Rachel was watching the two boys eating as she wondered what chemistry had drawn the boys together. They were as different as night and day, she thought. They were both eighteen, but there the similarity ended. But despite this, they were still the best of friends.

She wished that Dave with his slight frame and glasses was more like Hank who was taller and much more muscular. But, she was glad that Dave was the more intelligent of the pair. Dave's main interest in life was computers and math. Hank on the other hand was the archetypal jock. A good-looking little stud in a boyish way, she smiled to herself. She imagined that he had his share of girls and maybe that was why Dave liked being around him. And she was sure that Hank didn't mind the help that Dave gave him in school.

Watching the two boys eat, she saw that Dave, as usual was daintily picking at his food, eating only selected items while Hank had already wolfed down everything on his plate like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

Damn, Mrs. Vickers is a good cook. Hank thought. I wish that my mom could cook as good as she does. Boy, I would like another helping.

"Hank, would you like some more potatoes?" she asked him seeing that his plate was almost empty.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Vickers," Hank said, holding his plate out to her.

Wow, can she read my mind or what?

"Anything else," she asked him smiling as she ladled out a huge mound of potatoes into his plate.

"Uh, another helping of everything, I guess," he grinned. "If that's okay?"

I hope that she doesn't think that I'm a pig.

"Anything you want," she laughed, filling his plate.

Anything I want. Okay, how bout if I fuck you right here on the table. Right in front of your husband and Dave. Damn, I'm getting a hard on just thinking about it.

At last supper was over and Oscar pushed back from the table.

"You boys help your mom with the dishes," he said, getting up and tromping off toward the living room.

Dave frowned and groaned, but Hank quickly began to help clear the table.

"Where do you want these dishes, Mrs. Vickers?" he politely asked and she pointed over to the counter by the sink.

And where would you like this boner I have all saved up for you?

"Just stack them there by the sink," she smiled warmly at him as he smiled back and blushed.

Why was he blushing, she wondered as she stood up and leaned over to pick up the leftover steak? Lifting the plate, she looked up and saw that Hank was blushing even brighter. Glancing down, she saw that her blouse had billowed out giving the boy a peek down inside her blouse.

Oh, fucking God, what a pair of tits. I wish she didn't have that damn brassiere on. I'd love to dive down between those beauties and never come out.

Why, my goodness, the boy was looking down my blouse, she told herself.

She should have felt angry that Hank was gawking down her blouse, but strangely, she didn't. Instead, she felt a perverse tickle down below her waist. Down there where she was feeling all warm and funny inside. She had always had an affectionate feeling toward Hank for some inexplicable reason ever since the first day Dave had brought him home. Maybe that explained her puzzling lack of righteous indignation.

In fact, she felt a bizarre sense of pride knowing that he found her attractive enough to risk taking a peek down her blouse. But why in the hell wouldn't he? She had a pretty face and a knockout body. Smiling, she bent down again and watched his eyes quickly dart down to her breasts as she dabbled with the other plates for a few seconds.

What in the hell's going on? She saw me looking down her blouse and now she leaning down again so I can get another look. Oh, Jeez, they're beautiful. I'd give a million dollars just to reach out and touch them.

Was she crazy?

She was actually teasing him. Teasing her son's best friend. Teasing a boy. Teasing him and showing him off her tits like some two-bit slut.

Finally, realizing that Dave might see her and catch on to what she was doing, she stood up and carried the leftovers to the refrigerator.

No, don't stand up. I haven't got my fill of your awesome tits yet.

"Why don't you boys go on and play your new game," she smiled at them as she turned back from the fridge, "I can handle it from here."

Game? I know a game I'd like to play with you, Mrs. Vickers. It's called stick the wienie in the lady. And speaking of handling it, you can handle mine anytime you want.

Seeing that Hank was still blushing as he stared at her, she self consciously ran her hand down over her breasts smoothing down her blouse.

Look at that. She's smoothing down her blouse so I can see how big her tits are. I can't believe this. And, and look, you can see her big, hard nipples. And she's got a bra on, too.

"Well, go on," she smiled, directing most of her attention at Hank. "Don't just stand there gawking at me."

Gawking! If I had any guts, I'd walk over there and plant a kiss on your sweet lips and then I'd tear off your blouse so I could see those tits your so proud of.

"Hey, come on Hank," Dave yelped, turning and running out of the room.

"Well, aren't you going, too?" she smirked.

Damn Chuck. I could stand here all day long looking at your mom. You stupid little jerk.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, uh, bye, uh, Mrs. Vickers." he muttered, blushing deeply. "Uh, thank you for supper, and, uh, uh, everything."

Yeah, but thanks mostly for the great look at your tits.

"You are quite welcome," she smiled at him as she ran her hand down over her breast again.

She did it again. There's no mistaking it. She's flirting with me. Dave's mom is flirting with me.

She saw his eyes flick down to her breast for a second before he turned and fled out of the room.

"You hussy," she fumed out loud. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, teasing that boy like that."

"What? What did you say," she heard her husband, Oscar ask from the living room.

"Huh? Oh, nothing," she said. "I was just talking to myself."

"Oh," he muttered, going back to whatever it was that he was doing.

When she was finished, she flicked off the light in the kitchen and strolled into the living room smiling to herself. Sitting down by Oscar, she wondered if there was any chance of a little fun under the covers with him tonight.

"What time do you two have to leave tomorrow morning," she asked as she suggestively ran her hand down his thigh.

"All the events kick off around two," he yawned, "so I guess that we'd better be on the road by ten at least. Why?"

"Just trying to figure out what to do with myself while you guys are out gallivanting in the woods," she smiled back at him, squeezing his thigh. "And when do you think you'll get back on Sunday?"

"I think the Closing ceremonies are at nine," he told her, "so I imagine around one or two."

"You're going to leave me all alone by myself tomorrow night," she pouted, sticking out her lower lip.

"I'm afraid so," he laughed, "But these father and son things only happen once a year."

"I know," she smiled, "and I'll probably enjoy the peace and quiet once you guys are out of my hair."

"Sure you will," he agreed. "It'll give you time to read that new book you've been wanting to read."

"That's an idea," she said, running her hand up his thigh again.

Oscar seemed oblivious to her suggestive behavior as he watched television and ignored her groping and squeezing his thigh.

"Could I interest you in a little hanky-panky tonight?" she finally asked.

"Uh, I, uh, I'm kinda tired," he yawned, "and uh, I got a long day tomorrow."

"Oh, all right," she fumed, giving up and watching television.

The longer she sat there, the more angry she became.

"Well, why don't you go upstairs and go to bed?" She snapped, "if you're so tired."

"I think I will," he grunted as he got up off the couch.

While Oscar flopped down on the bed, Rachel stepped into the bathroom and slipped off her blouse. Sometimes this was the best time of the day, she thought, unhitching her brassiere. The instant she released the catch on her bra, her large, heavy breasts sprang free. Flicking her bra aside, Rachel took one big, heavy tit in each hand, roughly squeezing and kneading the warm, soft flesh.

She usually went braless, but since Hank was visiting, she felt it might be a little risqu to go around bouncing all over the place. But I wonder what Dave thinks when I go braless. Does he get a charge out of it?

But the way Hank had been ogling her breasts, she now wished she had gone without her bra, she thought wickedly. Smiling, she recalled catching him staring down her blouse as she cleaned off the table. What would he have done if she hadn't had her bra on and he had gotten an eyeful of her tits in all their naked glory? At least he had shown some interest in her. Unlike her hubby Oscar.

At last, she reluctantly moved her hands away from her tits and bent down stripping off her shorts and panties. Standing back up, she admired her image in the mirror. Not bad for a thirty-eight year old, she thought as she let her eyes travel up her body. Following the arcing sweep of her calves to her beautifully proportioned thighs, she was pleased with the way her firm, tanned thighs gracefully curved out only to sweep back, ending at her long, sexy hips. Pausing momentarily at the swath of curly hairs spreading out over her lower belly, hiding her secret grotto from view, her eyes swept up over her flat, hard belly. Then veered out to encompass her big, full breasts with their jutting, ruby nipples sticking out and begging for attention. Finally her eyes moved up to her face. There was no doubt about it, she vainly thought, I am a very pretty woman. Reaching over to the door, she plucked her nightie from the hanger. Smiling at the image watching her, she raised the nightie above her head and let it drop down over her body. It was so sheer that it did little to hide her abundant charms, but in the dark it would be sufficient, she thought as she flicked the light off and stepped back into their bedroom.

Glancing over at the bed, she saw that Oscar was already dozing off. She had, had one last glimmer of expectation, but when she saw him nodding off, she knew that by the time she got back from locking up, he would be asleep.

Angrily, she stomped out of the room in her bare feet and made her way downstairs. As she walked, her big breasts bobbled and wriggled, rubbing her sensitive nipples against the sheer film of her nightie. It felt sexy to have her big tits bouncing freely as she walked around the dark house. The fact that Hank was in the house gave it even more spice. Maybe he might be up hiding somewhere watching her, she smiled to herself. I wish, she laughed, flicking the last latch shut. Satisfied that everything was battened down, she strode up the stairs and started back to her bedroom.

On her way down the hall, she glanced down at Dave's bedroom and saw a faint glow of light coming from underneath Dave's door. This usually indicated that he had gone to sleep with his television on, but tonight with Hank over, they might still be up playing on the computer. Pausing for a moment, she wondered if she should check. Why not, she smiled smugly. She might even get another chance to taunt Hank.

Tip-toeing down the hall to her son's door, she cautiously peeked into the room. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the faint light, but when she could finally see into the room, she saw that both boys appeared to be asleep.

Dave was under the covers on his bed in his usual dead to the world pose while Hank lay on the floor at the foot of the bed, directly in front of the television. Hank was lying on his side and from where she stood, she could only see his back so she couldn't tell for certain if he was asleep or not. She stood watching him for a few moments and saw that his breathing was steady and even.

Just the thought that he might still be awake had given her a surge of excitement as she slowly started over to where he lay. Stepping around the obstacles left behind by the boys, she crept toward the television as quietly as she could. Finally, she was near the set and had only to step around Hank to reach it. Standing there, naked except for her tiny nightie, she felt herself growing more excited as she deliberately stepped over him. A sudden and perverse thrill shot through her brain as she did, because she knew that if he was awake and looked up, he would be able to see straight up at her naked pussy.

But as her foot touched the floor on the other side of him and she looked down, she saw that he was indeed asleep. His cute, hunky face the picture of youthful innocence. Disappointed for a moment that he hadn't been awake to take advantage of her lecherous display, she felt sudden rush of adrenaline squirt into her blood stream as her eyes found his young, virile penis jutting out through the opening in the front of his pajamas. In the murky light of the television, the sight of the boy's stiff, erect penis caught her by surprise. She hadn't been expecting anything like that. Stunned by the size of boy's cock, she stood transfixed, staring down at it, afraid to move for fear of waking him up.

But why was he hard? Was he having a wet dream? Who was he dreaming about? Was he dreaming about her? Just the thought that he might be have a dream about her sent a jolt of electricity shooting down her spine and into her tingling pussy.

Finally, after several moments of gawking at the boy's twitching organ, she was able to catch her breath.

Then it occurred to her that Hank's potent manhood was definitely oversized for his age. Maybe it was just the light, she thought to herself as she timidly bent down to get a closer look at the swollen organ. Just as she did, the scene on the television changed bathing the room in brightness and she could see that the size of his cock was no figment of her overactive imagination. The boy's penis, jutting out hard and ripe was more than man size.

Good Lord, the boy's huge, she thought as she stared at his jutting giant. How could a boy his age be so big? As she stared at the Hank's monstrous peter, she realized that Hank, in his youth, was already considerably larger than her husband's impressive cock. It was all she could do to keep from reaching down and touching the erect column of meat.

The sight of the boy's oversized penis evoked a strange feeling down inside of her. The itchy need between her legs that she had felt earlier suddenly returned with a vengeance. But what was wrong with her? This was a boy she was being upset by. Her son's best friend. Granted a boy with a man's penis, but still a boy. Yet, even as she chastised herself for her aberrant excitement, she couldn't calm the excitement she was feeling.

Then, just as she was about to stand back up, Hank moved in his sleep.

"Oh, Mrs. Vickers," he groaned as his cock jerked up and down wildly.

She nearly fainted right there on the spot.

Gasping to catch her breath and not wanting to risk waking the boys, she left the television on and carefully made her way back toward the door without tripping over anything. Slightly giddy from the thrill she had just experienced, she stepped back out into the hallway and quietly closed the door.

Standing there, she leaned against the door and fanned herself to clear her head. This wasn't like her, she told herself. Why was she so upset by the sight of a boy's penis? She had seen Dave's little penis many times. But then again, Dave's penis was a normal sized penis while Hank's penis was a big man-sized penis. Trying as hard as she could, she still couldn't erase the image of Hank's boy's perfectly shaped penis from her mind. It was as if the picture of his beautiful penis had been indelibly seared into her brain. What really shocked her though was the effect it was having on her. She was Rachel Vickers, the mother of a boy almost the same age as the boy she was having such lecherous thoughts about. So why was she so aroused by the accidental sight of Hank's erect penis?

And then, when he had mouthed her name. Oh, God. Was she going crazy?

This was the first time she had felt anything like this. Hank was a teenage boy she suddenly realized she had the hots for him.

At last, she pushed herself away from the wall and hesitantly took a step back down the hallway toward her bedroom. Her knees almost buckled but then the blood flow to her legs resumed and she slowly made her way back to her bedroom. Stopping at the door, she looked in and saw that Oscar was asleep already, just as she knew he would be.

Too bad for you, she thought flipping off the light, because after her episode in the boy's room, she was definitely in the mood for some serious fucking.

Making her way over to the bed, she slipped off her nightie and dropped it onto the floor beside the bed. Still frustrated by Oscar's lack of interest, she flounced down on the bed hoping to wake him up, but he only snorted and rolled away from her.

Frustrated, she spread her legs apart and slipped her hand down to her tingling clitoris. Her fingers quickly found the ripe pea-sized bundle of nerves sticking out and begging for attention. Surprised to find it so large and ripe, she began flicking it back and forth roughly, enjoying the trickle of excitement flowing up from it as her mind pored over the image of Hank's magnificent penis.

But for some strange reason, she stopped fingering herself just short of an orgasm. Feeling slighted by her husband, she didn't want to bring herself to an orgasm with him lying beside her although it would serve him right. She would wait until tomorrow. Then tomorrow, when he was gone, she would have a party for herself. Tomorrow, she would do it when she was alone. Alone with her toys and movies. Too bad, though, that Hank would miss all that he had caused.

Finally, after lying awake for what seemed like hours, she drifted off into a restless sleep.

It seemed like she had just fallen asleep when the clock radio went off, coaxing her back to wakefulness. Reaching over and turning it off, she lay in bed for a few moments trying to recall why she felt so drugged. She didn't remember drinking anything last night, but she felt groggy and tired.

Suddenly a warm glowing feeling spread out from her pussy as the image of Hank's penis slowly formed in her mind. As the image fully formed, a trickle of electricity shot through her clitoris and the warm feeling spread over her whole body. Then, enveloped in the lurid heat, she found herself sweating.

Easing out from under the covers, she hurriedly slipped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom, breasts flopping and hair flying. Closing the door behind her, she looked into the mirror and saw that her face was beet red.

Quickly stepping into the shower, she slowly turned on the cold water and stepped underneath the icy spray. It was so cold she could barely stand it, but shivering, she endured the stinging spray of ice cold water for several seconds before she had to step out from under it. The freezing water drove the image of Hank's prick from her mind, momentarily but as soon as she stepped out from under the freezing water, the image returned. Stepping back under the watery cascade, she shivered and shook from the cold until her teeth began to chatter and she had to step out. Grabbing a towel, she quickly wrapped it around her, and began rubbing herself furiously, trying to get warm again. But now her nipples were swollen and sensitive from the cold water and the towel rasping across them quickly brought back the itchy feeling between her legs.

Giving up her attempt to quiet the perverse desire smoldering inside her, she continued to towel herself until her teeth stopped chattering. Afraid to even touch her big, voluptuous breasts lest she set off another bout of craving, she hurriedly slipped back into the bedroom. Oscar was still asleep. He was snoring and apparently oblivious to her as she pulled on a pair of warm-ups.

Hurrying downstairs, she quickly set about fixing breakfast. Scurrying around the kitchen, she first fried up a mound of bacon while the toaster browned half a loaf of bread. Piling the crisp, aromatic bacon on a plate, she broke nine eggs into the frying pan and scrambled all of them into a pile of yellow fluff, occasionally stirring them until were done. Once she had everything prepared, she stuck it all into the microwave and started a pot of coffee brewing.

As it brewed, she walked back up the stairs. It's a good thing Hank isn't here to see this, she smirked to herself as she watched her tits flopping about unrestrained under her warm-up top. He would really be blushing.

"You'd better hurry up and get dressed," she growled at her husband as she walked into the bedroom, "or You and Dave will miss the opening ceremonies."

"Huh," Oscar mumbled sleepily as he drug his arm out from under the covers and looked at his watch.

"Wow, you're right," he blurted out.

"When you get up," she told him, "go wake up the boys."

"Okay," he mumbled, sitting up and looking at her with sleep-filled eyes.

"Breakfast is in the microwave," she told him as she started toward the door. "I'm going to work in the yard a while, so you guys go ahead and eat so you can hit the road."

"All right," he yawned, seemingly unconcerned by her coolness.

Hurriedly slipping back downstairs, she gathered up her gardening tools and carried them out behind the great oak tree in the corner of their yard. From this vantage spot, she could watch the house without being seen. She just didn't want to face Hank and re-ignite the smoldering memory of his pretty cock.

Plopping down, she piddled around weeding the flowerbed for a few minutes. It was rather enjoyable sitting under the tree all by herself, she thought, if only the irksome little itch inside her pussy would go away.

But when the men were gone, she would take care of that, she smiled, rubbing herself through her sweat pants.

Then suddenly the door leading out into the yard swung open and she nearly swooned when she saw Hank step outside.

I wonder where she is? I'd like to get one more look at those gorgeous tits before I leave.

"MRS. VICKERS?" she heard him shout, "Are You Out Here?"

She didn't know whether to answer him or not. She knew she was already blushing again.

"UH, YES, UH, OVER here," she finally stammered, not wanting him to think she was avoiding him.

"Oh, there you are," he grinned, walking toward her with a big smile on his innocent face, "Uh, I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay over last night. I had a real good time."

Oh, crap, she's wearing sweats. Can't see much through them. But even in sweats she looks great.

"Oh, Well, uh, you're quite welcome," she said, stumbling over every word like a tongue-tied teenager on her first date, "you're welcome, to, uh, stay over, uh, anytime you, uh, want."

Stay over anytime I want? Hey, how about tonight, Baby, while your hubby and Dave are gone to the Scoutarama? Just you and me. We could fuck all night long.

"Uh, Okay," he smiled back at her as she saw his eyes dart down to bulges jutting out under the front of her sweatshirt. "Well, I've got to run. Uh, thanks again."

"Well, come back to see, uh, us . . ." she stammered, trying to keep her eyes off his crotch, but failing, "anytime."

Holy fart! She just looked down at my wienie. And said for me to come back anytime. Maybe she really does want some of my wienie. I'll have to think about this.

Why did she say that, she asked herself as she watched him turn and stride across the yard? She felt a breeze brush across her forehead and realized that she was sweating again. What was wrong with her? How could she be letting herself get so worked up about an eighteen-year-old kid? Was she going bonkers?

Finally, after a few moments, she had cooled back down to a controllable level and decided to risk going back inside, hoping that Hank was now gone.

Just as she reached the door, her husband met her there and held it open for her.

"We're just fixing to leave," he grinned at her, "I was just coming out to tell you good bye."

"I hope that you two enjoy yourself," she said, returning his smile and giving him a quick, little hug. "You both be careful and come back safe and sound."

"We will," Oscar said, leaning down and giving her a little kiss. "We should be back by three or four o'clock tomorrow, if everything goes according to plan. I'll give you a call if there is any change, though."

"Dave, you take care of your father out there in the woods, okay?" she laughed, giving him a little hug, too.

"Aw, Mom," he grinned, hugging her back.

"I love you both," she said as she walked with them to the garage.

"Love You, Too," they both said almost in unison.

Watching them get into the car, she felt a little twinge of guilt that she was glad to see them go for once, but she did want some time to herself for a change.

In no time they were backing down the drive and driving away. Waiting for a few moments, she reached over and flipped the switch and watched the garage door slowly slide downward until it closed her off from the rest of the world.

"Ah, alone at last," she said out loud to herself.

Stepping over to the washer, Rachel reached down and promptly peeled her sweatshirt off and dropped it into the washer. Then she tugged down her pants and tossed them in on top of the shirt. She now stood in front of the washing machine stark naked.

"I'll bring you guys some friends later," she laughed, feeling silly but kind of sexy as she strolled back into the house, her bare boobs bobbling and bouncing up and down merrily. Lifting the big mountains of soft pink flesh, she tried to restrain them as she started up the stairs only to hear the phone ring.

Giving her big tits a rough squeeze, she let them go and walked back over to the phone.

"Hello," she said into the phone, feeling a little self-conscious, standing and talking on the phone without any clothes on.

"Hello, Rachel, this is Lois," said the caller, "I'm sorry to bother you, but Frank and I had planned to go camping this weekend and now Hank has decided that he doesn't want to go for some crazy reason. We were wondering if you would mind being his support system in case anything happens while we are gone?"

"Well, uh, I suppose, I suppose so," she stammered, not knowing what else to say.

"If it's too much of a bother, we'll find someone else," Lois said, "but since you have the power of attorney and all from the last time, I thought maybe you wouldn't mind."

"Oh, sure, it's fine," she said, finally able to regain some of her composure.

"Well, he won't bother you unless there is an emergency or something," Lois told her, "and thanks a million."

"Don't think anything of it," Rachel said, returning the receiver back down to its cradle.

A fleeting thought of leaving a wolf in charge of the chicken-house flitted through her mind.

Well, that changes the plans a little, she sighed, cupping her big, firm tits in her hands again and holding them so they wouldn't flounce around too much as she headed back up the stairs.

Slipping into a pair of soft, silky shorts, she thought she would fix her a little lunch and then try to get rid of the bothersome little tingle in her pussy. She had planned on running around naked all day, but with Hank now under her supervision, she thought she should be at least partially clad, should he show up unexpectedly. Picking up a brassiere, she started to pull it on, and then decided against it, instead she pulled on a short little halter-top that just barely covered the swollen swell of her big breasts. Looking into the mirror, she could see the round, bulging bottoms of her breasts peeking of from the bottom of the halter anytime she moved her arms up in the least. What a surprise Hank would get if he saw her this way, she lecherously thought. He'd really be blushing then.

Prancing down the stairs, she felt her frolicsome tits bouncing so wildly she had to keep pulling the halter down over them to keep them covered. Quickly fixing herself a sandwich, she sat down at the table and began to eat it when she heard the doorbell ring.

"Oh, For Goodness sakes," she complained, setting her sandwich down and getting up.