My parents divorced when I was 12; my sister went to live with my mother and me with my father. However, quite often I was sent to spend a week or weekend with my mother and sister. When I was 15 they lived with one of my mother's friends, Cynthia, and her daughter, who was my sister's age. I wasn't particularly pleased to stay with any of them; my sister and the other girl were frumpy, dumpy, and dumb, and Cynthia was a grade-A bitch. She worked as a cocktail waitress and made lots of money by leading men on, and she had an unpleasant personality. Nonetheless, she was also very attractive. She was slender, with small tits and narrow hips, well-tanned skin, lightly curly shoulder-length black hair, and thoroughly scornful eyes that only looked at me with annoyance or irritation. While I disliked her as a person about as much, I was equally turned on by her tight little body, which featured in my masturbatory fantasies often, especially after I managed to overhear her one night telling my mother about her latest sexual experience, a threesome with a married couple in which she 69ed with the wife while the husband fucked her from behind. (While I suspect she and my mother had been lovers, I never had any evidence other than hints I had overheard to that effect; and since my mother was herself not the greatest catch in the world, that just added to the possible disdain I had for Cynthia as a person.)
Anyway, one summer weekend I was forced to stay over at their house while my father got our apartment fumigated and went on a business trip. My mother took my sister and the other girl on an all-day shopping trip that Saturday, which I was overjoyed not to be invited to. I lay down about 11 in the afternoon, a half hour after they left (to give them time to come back if they had forgotten anything), and was starting to get hard. Since I had all day alone, I was thinking about who best to whack it to-I decided to dig into my mother's stash of porn, which she had hidden behind the headbed of her water bed. While I was there behind the head of the bed, the door slammed and Cynthia called out, 'Anybody here?' I suddenly thought to keep quiet to see if I'd get a peep or two, and heard her look into the bedroom. She didn't look around to see me and just went back into her room. (Their house was L-shaped, and my mother lived in the right-wing end room, Cynthia in the room at the top of the L past the kitchen; there was a cement-covered driveway from the street past my mother's room to the backyard, which was surrounded by a high wall.) I realized I'd have a hell of a time peeping on her and my penis had deflated a little when I heard her drag a chaise longue into the back yard. I peeked out the edge of the venetian blinds and saw her in a skimpy bikini carrying suntan lotion. Things suddenly had become much more promising.
She glanced around and found the best site for sun, which happened to be pretty close to and facing the window. I got hard again but resisted the urge to spew all in a rush, and a good thing too. She lay down on the chaise rubbing her arms and belly with suntan lotion, then looked around; she tilted the back of the chaise up again so that her front was not visible from anywhere but the house and undid her top. As she rubbed suntan lotion into her tits, I fully hardened and stared at them. They were very firm and fairly small, probably a B cup at most, and the nipples were dark brown and already erect with smallish aureolas. After she finished her breasts, she then rubbed suntan lotion onto her legs and lay back with the sun in her face, and thus had her eyes closed. Soon she had returned to caressing her breasts and I stroked along with her, unconsciously mimicking her rhythm.
After about 10 minutes I was breathing raggedly, my balls starting to hurt, and precum was dripping everywhere. I grabbed a towel and held it in readiness, but for some reason didn't allow myself to finish off just yet. Then, while her left hand continued rubbing her breasts, she thrust her right hand into her bikini bottoms and started rubbing at a place I knew from my reading was her clitoris but had only seen vaguely in pictures. This was too much and I grabbed the towel with my left hand as I rubbed my cock raw with my right hand. I spewed hard half a dozen times into the towel and stayed hard. In fact, I still had a bad case of blue balls, so it was a good thing she was still masturbating. She fucked hard with her hips against her fingers and came with a loud moan I could hear slightly through the window. I thought with disappointment then that she was done masturbating, but after catching her breath she pushed the crotch of her bikini bottoms to the side and ran her index and middle fingers up and down her swollen, glistening lips. Her lips were framed by a thick growth of black hair, and next to the black of her kinky hair and the brown of her thighs the grass green of her bikini bottom and pink of her insides were almost blinding in the hot Texas sun.
She soon started stroking more vigorously, giving me my first lesson in how to bring a woman off by hand, and soon had two fingers up inside herself and her palm flat against her clit. As she had her next orgasm, thrusting up into the air and gripping her cunt with her hand, I sprayed into the towel again, and didn't wait to soften as I stroked myself hard to keep myself hard. As she continued to stroke herself to at least seven more orgasms, I shot off one more time and continued playing with myself until I was hard again; after five minutes I drained myself (I thought) one last time, my six inches of velvet-wrapped iron-hard flesh fucking into my fist as I dreamed my fist was her hot wet cunt. Then I was done, but she was not; I watched in amazement as she gave herself three more orgasms and then covered herself with a towel and fell asleep in the sunlight. Although I was exhausted mysself, I was in a thoroughly unsettled state and continued playing with myself until I could get myself semihard again. With great effort I whacked myself hard until I grabbed one last orgasm with three tiny dribbles of cum, then just sat there worn out and irrationally afraid to move for fear she'd hear me (when I should have been worried about that half an hour before). An hour later she went back into her room, and I felt free to crawl out from the side of the waterbed where I could see her through the window.
Later that afternoon I was in the bedroom I stayed in reading and exhausted, my dick hurting at the thought of anything but sleep, when she came into the rest of the house. She heard me turn some pages and came over to the door and looked hard at me. 'How long have you been here?' 'About 30 minutes.' She thought for a second. 'And where were you?' 'Momma left with the girls about 10:30 so I walked over to the video arcade.' She frowned but probably decided that if she started questioning me, then if I hadn't watched her I'd know she was worth watching in her alone time in the future, and if I had seen her it was too late to do anything, so she just nodded and said, 'Fine. Have fun?' I said, 'Yeah, it was okay.' She then walked back to the kitchen, poured herself some juice, and went back to her room. I never saw her naked again, much less horny and spread-eagled with her cunt wide open in front of me, but I had all the memories I needed for years of satisfied masturbation. And besides that I had learned a lesson my girlfriends have been glad I learned, that a cunt can easily be more demanding than any cock and should never be left unsatisfied, however hard the task.