My name is Jean, I’m 54 years old, and I’m not married on paper, but I’ve lived with my husband for 16 years now, and in total, we’ve been together for 26 years. We have two small children, aged 7 and 9. We’ve always had a good relationship, and what I’m going to report here, it didn’t happen due to a lack of love or affection from my husband; I didn’t look for it, and I never thought about cheating on him, so it just happened.
I am an ordinary woman, typical in that my physical type is not that of any model. I have white skin, light brown hair, brown eyes, wavy hair down to my shoulders, 5.6 feet tall, 60 kg, with small breasts, wide hips, thick legs, and a big ass.
As I said, we’ve always had a good relationship; in addition to matrimonially speaking, we’re also well-resolved financially and have independence. My husband is a businessman, and I work in a public school, in the pedagogical part. Still, I’m not a teacher; I work in a lot of contact with ‘problem’ students, who are repeating, or who end up crossing the line with teachers or other students, the vast majority of them teenagers, between 16 and 18 years old.
Anyway, last year, I met a student who had been having relationship problems, fighting with everyone, disrespecting teachers, and so on; until then, he was nothing more than what I always saw daily. We ended up getting to know each other and talking, and he turned out to be a pleasant boy to talk to. Despite his bad behavior, he was intelligent and very friendly; he knew how to have a conversation, and little by little, he started to visit my office, not just to deal with problems, but to talk, and we ended up making a friendship.
Do you guys know what a public school is like in practice? How is the treatment with technicians like me? The professors think they are gods, the majority are doctors, and we are nothing. Still, with these visits from this student, I started to feel more ‘important’ and to enjoy talking to him. We talked about countless things. He mainly told me about his life and what his family is like. He lives with his mother and two brothers, his father abandoned them, and of course, being the eldest, he ended up assuming this role, being the “man in the house”.
In one of these conversations, he was telling me about how his father used to beat him and his brothers. Still, other students with problems arrived, and we had to interrupt our conversation, and that’s when he asked me to add him on Skype, so we could continue the conversation later.
I ended up adding him, and after a few days, we met online and started talking, and so we started talking, and he gradually got closer to me. Over time, he began to praise me, saying I was intelligent and also a beautiful woman, and I began to like that.
One day, talking to him, he asked for a picture of me. He said he would love to see me dressed up, with makeup on, that I didn’t dress up at school. I said no, that I wouldn’t send it; he said he understood but that he just wanted to see me differently, and after almost an hour of chatting, he convinced me, and I sent it.
He complimented me a lot, saying I was a beautiful, charming woman. I felt good about that, so a few days later, we met again on Skype on a Saturday. Then after a little conversation, he sent a photo of a waterfall. This place is the most beautiful thing. I know the place, and he said he was there with some friends. Shortly after, he sent me a photo of him in swimming trunks, I was completely embarrassed and cut the subject, but I confess that I had it in my head, imagining what that boy was imagining to have sent me that photo.
Days later, on a weeknight, my husband went out to play with some friends, and I went on Skype and started talking to the boy again. It didn’t take long, and he soon began asking me for a photo again, until later, already after 11 pm, he convinced me to send him a bikini photo.
I sent it, and again he complimented me and said I was hot. Wow, reading that, I don’t know, turned me on, but soon my husband arrived, and I ran out of Skype.
After that, our conversations became more frequent. I came in almost every night and always left gaps for him to compliment me. In some of those times, I sent him bikini pictures again, and little by little, we were talking about sex, not having sex, but about our sex lives. He told me that he had already had a lot of experiences, even because he grew up alone, and when I thought about it, I concluded that that boy had more sexual experiences than me at 34 years old.
I was curious about him, and those conversations excited me, and I was already thinking about getting home and getting on Skype to talk to him. Even with my husband at home, I went online but obviously controlled myself and talked discreetly with him.
So, again I got online one night when my husband went to football, and I talked to him until almost midnight. I sent him several pictures in a bikini, and he praised me; I drank wine, laughed, and chatted with him. He sent me pictures of him, too, just wearing underwear. I did something that I hadn’t done for many years before my husband arrived; I ran to the shower and masturbated, thinking about that boy praising me and how good it was to be praised and desired because, in my heart, I knew that boy wanted me.
But the next day, I reflected on all that, and it was already crazy, talking to a boy, sending him pictures, and more, getting excited about it to the point of having masturbated. I confess that the next day I avoided him, closed my room, and felt ashamed.
But when I got home, I got on Skype, and he had left a message with a picture of him in his underwear, holding the volume to the side, looking slightly stiff, and with a little dot showing, and saying that he had loved our chat the night before and that if I wanted it to be online again.
I was apprehensive about that, but I didn’t enter Skype that day, and the next day I avoided him again, but at night, I couldn’t contain myself, and while my husband was sleeping, I got up, told him I was going to finish a job and went to the PC to talk with the boy.
Again I sent pictures, and he praised me a lot. I got excited, and again I started to touch myself. I got up the courage and asked him to show me more, but he didn’t. He sent pictures, little by little, in shorts, in underwear, sometimes making volume, but always hiding.
The days passed, and the year-end holidays came, and we sometimes talked, and I confess that I got excited with him, and then, right at the beginning of the year, my husband happened to travel, as my children were also on vacation. I sent them to my mother’s house to be with my cousins, and obviously, I decided to Skype, already ready to masturbate with him again.
We started talking. It was about 7 pm already. I had arrived from the gym, hadn’t even taken a shower, and I went in, started talking to him, and fell for the nonsense of saying that my husband had traveled. He began tormenting me, saying he wanted to see me in gym clothes, and I was already excited. I did what he asked, I showed him a photo with the gym clothes, and I started to get even more excited, and he teased me. I showed the pictures of the top and leggings, and then he opened his camera and showed me his body, shirtless or shameless. He was touching his shorts and said seeing me with leggings excited him. I asked to see him, and he didn’t show it, but he teased me, lowered his shorts, revealing his underwear, then went up and said he wouldn’t show them.
So he started teasing me again. I said that I hadn’t even taken a shower, and he said before I left, he would show it to me, and he lowered it, didn’t reveal it completely. He pulled his shorts and underwear down a little, showed a tiny part of his parts, and went back up. Then he said he could show me if I was really alone. I just needed to let him come here to my house.
I froze at that, but I thought, and I said no, that he was crazy to propose that, and I said I was going out, and we agreed to talk later.
I went to the shower. I was horny and wanted to touch myself, but I also wanted to look at him. I ended up masturbating, but I didn’t come, which only worsened things. I was curious to see him and wanted to see more, so I got out of the shower and returned to the computer. We started talking again, and I asked him to open the camera. He said no because he had taken a shower. And that he would go to the market, but he could run by my house after if I wanted to.
I was thoughtful, of course, but I said no, and he said goodbye and left for the market, saying he would call me when he got back. I took a dose of vodka and started drinking it, just in my pajamas around the house, waiting for him to return and we could talk more. About 20 minutes later, he called me again, and said he was close to my street, at that time I trembled, he said that I should let him make a visit. I thought a lot and told him to come in quickly, afraid of any neighbors seeing us.
Scared, I opened the gate, and made him go in quickly, so no one could see, I asked if his mother wasn’t going to be worried if he took too long, and then he told me that there was no problem, that he had said to her that he was going to the market, and it could take a few more minutes.
After we talked a little in the hall of the house, I went to the living room, I told him I was watching television, and when I turned to go, he held my hand and told me to wait, that he hadn’t come there to watch TV.
I trembled at the time. He held my hand, made me turn towards him, and, standing in the middle of the entrance to the house, he pulled me close, and he came to kiss me. I couldn’t hold it, and I returned the kiss; soon, we were glued to kissing each other with tongues. I was wearing shorts and a pajama top. I felt his hands hugging me, touching my back, while we kissed, standing up. He smoothed my back and then went down to my ass. The shorts were light; it made it easier for me to feel his hand squeezing my cellars.
I broke the kiss, pulled away a little, and told him to stop, saying we had crossed the line. He smiled and said that I was supposed to be relaxed, that he was only going to show me what he had promised. I trembled and said he had better go and couldn’t do that.
He stood looking at me, saying it was fine, but he was there to show me what I had been curious about on Skype. I said that he couldn’t do it, that it was already late, that someone could have seen him entering my house, and he just laughed and told me that if anyone saw him, they wouldn’t know what he was doing there. He argued that I had asked so much on Skype, so this was the opportunity to look at him. I didn’t know what to say, and before I could say anything, he was holding the shorts, pulling them down, and of course, my eyes went down. It was inevitable.
He pulled down his shorts and kept his underpants halfway there, and saw that I was looking, he took a step forward, took my hand again, and told me to stay calm, and take the opportunity to look at him, while he was looking at me, he put my hand on the edge of his underwear. With his hand on mine he was pulling it down slowly. I was staring and looking at him getting naked, standing in front of me, forcing my hand down, and pulling his underwear. Soon his dick came out, killing my curiosity. It was a beautiful dick, dark, with skin, nothing huge, but big, bigger than my husband, and mainly thicker, and with an utterly luscious head.
I looked… I faced him without saying anything. He was still holding my hand on the edge of his underwear. He took it off and took it towards his cock. I was out of my mind and didn’t answer, so I let it. I held it, that feeling of having a different dick, thicker. It was warm; he was looking at me. We approached and kissed again.
I kissed him with more desire than the first time, and with my hand between us, holding his cock, I squeezed, feeling it thicker and harder every second. He was with both hands free, passing through the straps of my blouse and taking them down, making my shirt go down to the middle of my belly, revealing my breasts, which despite being small, were showing how I had goosebumps.
The tongue kiss turned into his kisses on my neck. I already had goosebumps, and I got even more without taking my hand off his cock, which I already felt almost hard, and I no longer avoided making light movements picking him.
He lowered his mouth to my neck and grabbed one of my breasts without taking his hands off my ass. My breasts are small, so everything could fit in his mouth. He stayed like that for a while, and his hand on my ass went to the edge of my shorts, and I just felt him pulling down, and his dick slipped out of my hand.
I told him to stop and that we couldn’t go any further. He said nothing, turned my back to him, and pulled me against his body with my shorts lowered to my thighs. He said he wouldn’t do anything much, just wanted to rub up against me.
I was nervous about that, but I knew I owed it to him, so I pulled him into the living room, and as I walked, I took off my shorts, and I was pulling him and looking at his dick; how beautiful it was, we arrived in the living room, I told him he couldn’t penetrate, it was just for rubbing. I had my back to him; he was behind me, putting his dick between my thighs and stroking it!
He rubbed a little and told me to settle down on the couch. I said no, that I wasn’t going to have sex with him, that that was already too much.
He insisted, saying that we could go all the way since he was there. I said no, that I would not cheat on my husband, and at that time, I had already turned to face him, talking, he with his shorts down, and I without any shorts, and with the blouse below the breasts.
He told me to stop being scared, and he took my hand and again took it to his dick, and said to look at how hard it was, and again we approached, face to face, and his hand this time touched my pussy.
I couldn’t stand it, and I started jerking him off, lighter at first, then faster… accelerating, so he asked me to jerk him off from the back. He wanted to cum on my ass, I looked at him, and I saw that he wasn’t going to give up, and then I turned around, still holding onto his dick and puking.
I masturbated on him. Sometimes I stopped and put his dick between my thighs, rubbing it on me, making him feel how wet I was, and with the other hand, I touched myself, getting even crazier.
Sometimes I rubbed him on my pussy entrance; it was too wet, and it made his head wet too, and then I went back to jerking him off. He was holding my ass, saying I was beautiful and hot, and of course, I loved hearing that, going crazy.
So I went forward and leaned against the wall of the fireplace we have in the living room, and I pulled him close to me. I rubbed myself, alternating between my finger and his dick, I was hallucinating with that rubbing, and I pulled him, fitting, and forced my hips back. He noticed and pushed his forward, making his dick enter my pussy.
I let a moan escape from my mouth and felt every inch of him inside me. I went crazy, and he started to move, even though I didn’t want it to continue. I couldn’t stop, I smoothed myself, and he thrust. It didn’t take even 3 minutes, and I started to enjoy him doing that. I had to go forward and get off his dick. I was utterly shaken.
I walked away from him….with a feeling of guilt… I looked at him… He was smiling, his stick was sticky, my pussy had left him all drooling, and he was jerking off. Asked me to continue. I said that no…. that we had already done too much, and he said he deserved to come too and asked me to at least jerk off for him, and I really knew he was right, and it was only fair that he should come too, so I approached, and I held his dick, and I jerked off at him again.
He started saying that I was hot, that he was crazy, that he had loved sticking it in my pussy, and that he wanted more, I said no, but knowing that he was right, it had been hot, and I was getting excited about it again.
He insisted that he wanted to put it back in. I kept saying no, that that was crazy, that it shouldn’t have happened. He said it didn’t matter, that he wanted to play with me. He asked me to turn around so he could cum on my butt, I even thought about turning again, but I thought he was going to start rubbing again, and I couldn’t stand it without letting him stick it in, so I said no, that he was supposed to cum on my breasts.
Despite his protests, I crouched before him, jerking off him into myself. I know well that there was a risk that if I let him masturbate, he would direct the cumshot to my face…so I continued to avoid it to myself.
He ran his hand through my hair, said I was beautiful, and asked me to kiss his dick. I said no, and told him to come soon. He insisted and said it was just a kiss. I laughed and stopped jerking him off. I pulled the skin of his dick back, I felt that smell of excitement rise, and I kissed him on the head, a kiss for a few seconds, enough to feel the taste of his molasses. He laughed with pleasure, and I continued to masturbate him. He started to moan, and I felt him shaking and gasping.
When I felt him panting, I brought my body closer to his cock, and when I jerked off, I pushed his dick head on my breasts, he moaned, and I soon felt him coming, splashing the jets on my breasts.
He was laughing, playing with his dick, and I was still crouched there, smelling his sperm. I gave him a peck and went to the bathroom to get some paper. I cleaned myself up and reached for him to clean his dick. Then I told him that he better go and that no one at school could ever suspect that… he said it was logical but loved it and asked if we could see each other again. I said I didn’t know and that it was late, practically kicking him out of the house. He got dressed and left.