"I was looking for your daughter"

I knocked on the open door and called, "Hello...? Is anyone home?"

A moment later I heard a female voice that wasn't Ellie's call out, "Who's there?"

"Mrs. Robinson...?" I called. She didn't answer. I continued, "It's Robert ... Robert Taylor, from next door."

Another moment passed, and Ellie's mom called, "I'll be right out. C'mon in, Bobby. I'll be right out."

I hesitated a moment, a little bit uncomfortable with simply walking into the Robinson home.

Mister Robinson, a big man who had played four years of professional football before blowing out his knee, didn't care for me much because I'd once bounced a baseball off the top of his Jaguar.

And Ellie ... well, she was at best a neighbor. I would have called her a school mate except that we'd never had a class together and she was far too popular to even say hi to me within ear shot of her clique, let alone sit or visit with me on school grounds.

And Mrs. Robinson...? Well, let's just say that it was hard for me to even look her way without getting an instant woody. She was very young for a mom, having lied about her age and current birth control situation to a college jock she'd met at a frat party -- her current husband -- and ended up pregnant at just 15.

As if her being young didn't present me with enough problems, she had maintained her hotness even after popping out and nursing a child, and -- while I wasn't personally aware of it -- was constantly hit on by men of all ages.

I took a step inside the door, hesitated, then took a couple of more, peeking around the corners of the open doorways searching for Ellie. Although she wouldn't acknowledge my existence at school, she had not problems at all with my coming to her house to tutor her in both Chemistry and Physics, the hardest two classes that we, as Seniors, could take at our less than academically impressive suburban high school.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I nearly gasped at the sight of Mrs. Robinson standing in profile to me in the hallway.

I simply stared, bewitched by her impressive figure and ... oh, and those fucking, rock hard nipples. The dress she was wearing was more of a second skin than cloth, and every curve of her flesh -- and those nipples! -- was on full display to me.

"I, uh..." I swallowed hard, trying but failing to lift my gaze to Mrs. Robinson's own eyes. "I ... I'm supposed to tutor Ellie-- your daughter ... Ellie your daughter ... I mean..."

I chuckled nervously. "I mean Ellie, she's your daughter. Like you don't know that, right...? Is, um ... is Ellie here ... is she home ... here at home? I'm s'posed to tutor her. I'm her tutor. Yeah..."

I was running out of words, or more specifically the ability to form them as the blood that should have been powering my brain was rapidly filling my cock instead. I was so mesmerized by Mrs. Robinson's raw sexuality that I wasn't even aware of the tent that had formed just below my belt line.

(OOC: In case anyone is wondering where the pic came from, it is one of Russian's Winter Olympic athletes. You lucky bastard, Putin. )

I heard the neighbor kid calling out and quickly shrugged out of my sloppy tshirt and sweat pants and bra and slid on my tight figure enhancing sundress. At 34 I loved the attention that younger 'kids' gave me especially this boy as he got tongue tied every time he was alone with me. Besides, I thought, he is pretty handsome in his own way and I couldn't understand why Ellie didn't see that in him. I thought my daughter was being a bitch to use him to help her with homework and give nothing back.
I smiled brightly at Bobby trying my best not to laugh at his stutterring, Hi bobby." It was if he didn't hear me as I could tell his thoughts were jumbled and his eyes appearred to be all over my body; everywhere but my face. "Bobby my face is up here sweetie."
I waited for him to look me in the eye while I noticed a bit of a bulge in his pants which made my nipples even harder, "I think Ellie must have forgotten about you as she left with Kim, Erica and Joanie. Would you like a glass of lemonade?"

I knew I should go. There was no reason to stick around if Ellie wasn't here.

Actually, there was one reason: to continue to get an eyeful of Mrs. Robinson. But, of course, I shouldn't be doing that. For crying out loud, she was my fellow student's mother! I couldn't stick around just to stare ... and fantasize ... could I?

"I ... I really should go," I said, jerking a thumb over my shoulder toward the still open front door. "I should go. I'm going. I am."

And yet ... I wasn't. I was stuck in place as if my shoes had been glued to the floor. Despite Mrs. Robinson's playful comment about where her eyes were, mine were still taking a walk over my neighbor's womanly perfection.

"Oh Bobby it is no trouble to give you some lemonade and maybe a treat of some kind. Besides, you already had planned to be over here for 2 hours with Ellie, what is the harm in keeping an ugly old lady company for a few minutes? Now, follow me to the kitchen." She licked her lips seeing the forbidden fruit in front of her. She walked toward the kitchen swaying her hips very suggestively a she went hoping he would follow.

"...what is the harm in keeping an ugly old lady company for a few minutes?"

Bobby chuckled -- no, he giggled -- then felt his face flushing as he responded, "Oh, Mrs. Robinson ... you're not ugly."

The proper comment would have been something like You're very beautiful, Mrs. Robinson; and the bold, manly seductive comment would have been more along the lines of Mrs. R, you're a very sexy woman, and any man -- me included -- would kill to be with you. But, of course, Bobby was lucky to even get out You're very beautiful without biting his own tongue.

"Now, follow me to the kitchen."

Bobby did as Mrs. Robinson instructed, his gaze blued to the woman's finely shaped ass as it swayed and bumped. Her dress literally was a second skin, revealing the erotic shape of ever muscle as she took her time to lead the teen into the other room.

He watched her with intensity as she stretched tall to the counter for a glass, bent more than necessary at the fridge -- sticking his ass out for his pleasure -- as she retrieved the lemonade, then stepped up close to him at the counter where he'd sat on a tall stool, presenting her still firm breasts to his wide eyes.

Inappropriate as it was, Bobby simply couldn't take his eyes off Mrs. Robinson's nipples. Oh, it wasn't like he was staring at them incessantly! But through it all, and as he lifted the glass to his lips once, twice, a third time, his gaze was constantly shifting between her deep hazel eyes and her round, swollen nipples.

It wasn't until he'd taken his fourth sip from the glass -- while Mrs. Robinson continued to stand so near him -- that Bobby simply couldn't handle the discomfort in his groin any longer. He hadn't noticed it at first, and later tried to ignore it.

But when he'd taken a seat upon the tall, wooden stool, the massive woody in his jockeys hadn't exactly settled in a comfortable position. It was laying to the left, more over his thigh than the "v" of his groin. At 9 inches in length, with more girth than most men, and as hard as a fucking rock, it was so obvious laying there that the old joke Is that a banana in you pocket, or are you happy to see me didn't even seem to do it justice.

"Thank you Bobby," she half chuckled at Bobby's clumsy attempt at a compliment. As she stood beside him drinking their lemonade she took the cold glass and rotated it across her chest causing the cotton material to get damp and the nipples to stand out even further, It is certainly hot isn't it?"
She started to ask, "Do you have a girl.." then she noticed his eyes basically glued to her chest as well as the massive bulge in his pants and changed in mid-sentence, "...are you enjoying looking at my tits Bobby? Go ahead, I don't mind, look closer if you wish." In that moment she decided that Bobby wasn't going to leave without an education of his own.

Bobby's eyes widened as Mrs. Robinson wetted her shirt with the condensation from the chilled glass. Her nipples -- already impressive -- only got larger.

"It is certainly hot isn't it?"

He tried to pull his eyes away from her body, but it simply wasn't going to happen.

"Do you have a girl.."

Mrs. Robinson hesitated, but Bobby heard and understood the unfinished question. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get the chance.

"...are you enjoying looking at my tits Bobby? Go ahead, I don't mind, look closer if you wish."

He felt his face explode again, and looked up into Mrs. Robinson's face to try to determine whether she was serious or playing with him. He managed, "Really...?"

She nodded and smiled her acknowledgement.

He continued to study her expression for a moment, but then -- as instructed -- he looked back to her bosom and yearned to...

After a long moment, he looked back to her and said with the meekest of voices, "I've ... I've never touched one. A ... you know ... a woman's..."

He couldn't say it and instead looked back to her breasts...

Nodding she grabbed the lad's head and put his eyes level with her nipples. She then moved so her breasts were maybe three inches from him, if that. "Young man I don't say anything I don't mean, do you understand? Now, get your fill." She wiggled very slightly, almost unnoticably causing her nipples to move slightly wondering if he would figure out some way to touch her. She knew he could smell her various womanly aromas of sweat and perfume. She smiled as he gawked.

Although Mrs. Robinson's seizure of his head leveled his head with her beautiful breasts, Bobbie lifted his wide eyes to look up to her own as he asked, "What...?"

He couldn't believe that this woman -- this older woman, this mother of his classmate -- was actually telling him to grope her tits! "Do you ... do you mean...?"

"Touch them," she told him, almost as if ordering him.

He looked back to her chest, his gaze shifting back and forth between the perfect, round mounds and the swollen nubs decorating them. He hesitated for what seemed like a million years, forcing Mrs. Robinson to repeat her command.

Bobbie lifted a hand -- just one -- slowly toward the beautiful woman's breasts, hesitated with it just an inch away for a moment, then moved it forward until the tip of his middle finger was pressing gently against the magical nipple. He pulled his finger back, then pressed it forward again, pressing it just a bit harder.

"It's soft," he said naively.

He'd guessed by their ability to thrust through cloth -- be it a wet tee shirt, thin bikini, or even thick sweater at times -- that a woman's nipples would have been much harder. But, he would think to himself later when he thought back to this moment, it was after all just more-hardened-than-normal flesh, much as was his own penis when stiff.

Bobbie press his fingers against the nipple again, then -- remembering that he had permission -- touch his fingers, and then his whole hand to Mrs. Robinson's breast. His other hand rose, too, and pretty soon he was gently groping and squeezing both of them, amazed at how good they felt..

...and how his feeling them was beginning to affect the woman to whom they belonged.

When pressed a single finger to her breast she smirked, "Bobby it it isn't an elevator button, feel all over them." She let him feel them clumsly for a minute, "Of course they are soft. That's what guys like about boobs they are soft yet firm. You mean Bobby you've never made it to second base with a girl?"
She could feel herself continue to moisten loving the idea of taking this boy's virginity.She ran her hand down his back making sure not to scare him, at least, not yet.

This was heaven for Bobbie. He wasn't just touching a tittie: he was touching a woman's tittie. An older woman's tittie. A beautiful older woman's tittie. He'd dreamed of this for so long: of an older experienced woman, in general, but of Mrs. Robinson herself beginning with the first night he'd tutored her daughter, Ellie.

He'd masturbated to this so often, too, and -- in fact -- had beat off right here in their own bathroom the third or fourth night of tutoring! He'd been walking down the hall and had spied Mrs. Robinson for just a few seconds through the crack of her open bedroom door -- from behind, unfortunately. She had been dressing ...and she'd only been in a tiny thong, which meant that from behind, she essentially looked naked.

He'd wanted her ever since, but -- of course -- being a teenage geek, he'd never imagined something like this was possible, let alone anything more being so.

He didn't want to stop doing this -- groping Mrs. Robinson's breasts, but Bobbie knew that, just like his tutoring of Ellie, the lesson had to come to an end some time.

That was when Mrs. Robinson slid her hands from his head, over his shoulders, and down his backside. Her hands were all over him, just as his were all over her.

Until this moment, it hadn't occurred to Bobbie that Mrs. Robinson would want to touch him. Oh sure, he was trim, even well built compared to some guys. But he was just an 18 year old geek ...an inexperienced and naive virgin ...a cherry! Why would Mrs. Robinson want to touch him!

The feel of her hands roaming over his body only made Bobby bolder. He looked up into the older woman's eyes and asked nervously, "Can ...can I ...see them?"

(OOC: reminder, the dress is in the fist post)

Her hands made it to his ass which she playfully caressed returning to his back and then to his ass again.
"Bobby you didn't answer my question. Have you made it to second base.
A few moments later Bobby asked about touching her boobs, "Bobby why would you want to see an old woman's sagging tits? Besides young man you didn'tt say the magic word."
She was enjoying teasing him but she also wanted to make him desperate for her thereby lessening the threat that he would back out and she'd have more control.

"Oh, I ...I doubt that," he said weakly.

Although he didn't clarify, he was pretty sure that the sexy woman knew he meant that he doubted her breasts sagged. She obviously wasn't wearing a bra. And unless the blouse was somehow magical, he couldn't imagine that it and it alone was responsible for the incredible view before him.

When she reminded Bobbie that he hadn't said please, though, he realized that she was having fun at his naive expense. His face erupted in a bright flush, and he looked away for a moment.

He so badly wanted to see her breasts in the flesh, though, so when he looked back to her again, he said with a wide smile, "May I see your boobs, please, Mrs. Robinson.?"

She brushed his hands away and smiled. Pausing for a minute of anticipation, "That's better,but we wouldn't Mrs. Levine to look over through the window and see you checking my nude chest. Follow me Bobby."
Putting the glass of lemonade after taking another gulp she sauntered tdown the hall smiling like the spider who captured the fly.

Bobbie hesitated for a second ... but only for a second. He leaped off the stool and -- reaching down to reposition his throbbing cock -- followed right in behind Mrs. Robinson.

He caught up to her in her bedroom, which he scanned quickly. It looked very much like his own parent's bedroom, though -- because his parents were a decade older than Ellie's -- the style was noticeably different.

Interior design wasn't Bobbie's chief concern right now, of course. His chief concern was getting Mrs. Robinson out of her clothes.

standing near the king bed she turned to face Bobby, "Are you sure you want to see mybreasts? If so, go to the closet and bring out a hanger."
Mrs. Robinson waited for the boy to bring the hanger, she did not take it from him.She stood directly in front of him thinking he looked like a puppy waiting for a special treat.
Slowly she peeled the shoulder straps down revealing a millimeter of her skin at a time. Finally her nipples popped out. They were very large , the size of large grapes, and a deep red almost brown. Slowlyly the dress slithered down her chest and stomach. She had to help it over her large ass. Once it was there it fell to the floor. Picking it up she handed to Bobby, "Hang this up in the closet where you found the hanger."

"Are you sure you want to see my breasts?" Mrs. Robinson asked. When Bobbie's head nodded energetically, she ordered, "If so, go to the closet and bring out a hanger."

He didn't hesitate, and -- while he tried to hide his eagerness, he was back in a flash.

Bobbie couldn't believe what he was witnessing. The most beautiful woman -- the only woman -- with whom he'd ever done anything was going to take her clothes off for him. Take her clothes off ... FOR HIM!

It seemed as if it was all in slow motion, which -- honestly -- it was as Mrs. Robinson was having too much fun with Bobbie to hurry. The smooth, flawless skin of her shoulders were bared to him, and Bobbie realized suddenly that his lips were parted for his increasingly noticeable breathing.

As the tight fabric of her dress crept down her breast, first one boobie, then the other popped free. They each did a quick little dance -- like Jello on a bumped saucer -- and then settled down before Bobbie's wide open eyes.

He started to reach out, eager to touch the nipples in the flesh, as it was. But he stopped, lowering his arms to his sides like a child told by mom Keep your hands to yourself.

The dress continued downward, exposing Mrs. Robinson inch by inch. Bobby couldn't believe how good she looked. Mothers weren't supposed to look like this. His didn't, that was for sure!

Her breasts were firm like the models in the dirty magazines; her waist was narrow and hips wide, producing an hour glass figure that made him think of a petite Marilyn Monroe, who pictures filled his grandfather's den; her belly was flat with hints of the muscles that she must have worked on constantly in an effort to look good for her--

Bobby's heart jump as, for the first time since he'd entered the house, he remembered that Mrs. Robinson was a Missus. That meant a Mister. And not just any Mister, but a Mister who had once tangle horns in the NFL. If he caught Bobby in here with his naked wife, Mr. Robinson would prove that even a Defensive End can kick a 155 pound high school fuck over the goal posts.

But that fear vanished suddenly as Mrs. Robinson turned to her right and pushed the dress off her perfectly formed ass, causing Bobby to literally moan with delight.

She leaned down and picked up the dress, telling him, "Hang this up in the closet where you found the hanger."

He snatched the hanger, hurried to the closet, hung it in the first gap he found, and hurried back like he was a little puppy returning for a treat. He wore a smile on his face a mile wide as he asked tentatively, "What now?"

OOC: Mrs. R never removed her red bikini panties covering her neatly trimmed bush.

She watched the boy hang up the dress and then walked seductively to her bed and sat on the edge, If you wanna to touch my tits don't you think you oughta come over and have a seat. You certainly can't kiss them from there." She saw him take a step toward her, "Stop, what do you think you are doing, I don't want your filthy clothes on my bed. God knows what you've gotten on them; down to your briefs now if you intend on taking another step."

"K... kiss them...?"

Bobby hadn't even considered that Mrs. Robinson would let him ... kiss her breasts. He hadn't even thought she would let him touch them, let alone kiss them.

If he hadn't been so naive, Bobby would have realized that he was so naive! This was all so new to him. Despite his hours and hours of watching R-rated movies on cable and porn on the internet, his mind was simply a blank here and now. It was as if he and Mrs. Robinson were inventing these things as they went.

"Stop," she said as soon as he started toward her. She told him to strip, telling him "...down to your briefs..."


And once again, there was something he hadn't even considered. He was going to take his clothes off, too. Did that mean...? It did ... didn't it? Were they going to ... going to have sex?

Or ... were they already. After all, he'd held Mrs. Robinson's perfect breasts in his hands. Or, at least, through the thin cloth of her dress. Was that sex, or the start of it anyway?

As he began to unbutton his shirt with trembling fingers, he thought Jesus, Bobby-boy, you're such a little kid! First, how could he not know whether or not he was having sex yet; and second, how could he not know how to do these things, how to handle them, how to think about them?

He loosed the last button, hesitated, then shed the shirt. For being a non-jock, Bobby was surprisingly fit and muscular. His father, a personal trainer and health adviser, had made coming to the gym three times a week a condition for Bobby's weekly allowance and summer camps, most of which were academic or musical in nature.

When he finally managed to finally get his belt, snap, and zipper undone to drop his pants, Mrs. Robinson would see equally muscular legs, built by hundreds of hours on an elliptical, stationary bike, and stair climber.

But, she didn't get to see those legs immediately, because as he began to push the slacks off his hip, Bobby realized that he had a bit of a situation. His cock had worked its way out of the fly of his boxers, and it would be pointing excitedly -- almost accusingly -- at the woman who was its cause if he dropped his pants further.

"I, um ... have a problem," was all he could manage.

Mrs. Robinson had seduced other young guys but this was more fun for her than the others. Many of them she had to slow down and others had turned out to be class one ass holes or totally klutzy and one had turned out to be gay. Of the six or so she had been with Bobby was so nervous athat it was cute. She could also tell that this would be be her first long term relationship with a boy if he wanted it as it was obvious that he would let her maintain control which it would be a sex only relationship without emotional baggage.
But just now she had to keep from laughing out loud as she knew what the problem Bobby was having, "Young man just stuff that thing back in your underwear and remove your pants. It is not as if I haven't seen one before. Oh, and you might want to take off your shoes first." She tried to sound soothing instead of critical because judging from all of the signs his cock was pretty impressive and she didn't want to scare him off or embarress him.
Waiting she drew lines with her fingertips over her breasts down to her thighs and back up again.

"Stuff it back in," Bobby murmured.

That sounded easy enough. He took hold of his erection, then felt rather -- no, terribly -- embarrassed about grasping his own cock in from of the woman. He turned his back to her, and in the process his pants felt to gather about his ankles.

"Sorry," he mumbled over his shoulder, as if the inadvertent dropping of his pants weren't part of the schedule of their ... of their whatever this was. He managed to get his shaft back into his boxers, then turned back to face Mrs. Robinson, an embarrassed smile filling his face. He tried to kick his shoes off, but they were laced too tightly. Again he looked to her and said, "Sorry."

He moved a foot back to kneel and untie his shoes, which -- as his pants were gathered about his calves and ankles -- caused him to teeter a bit. But he finally managed it, untying both, and kicking them off to shoot back up with a proud look upon his face...

...and his cock again sticking out of his boxers, pointing eagerly at the smiling woman.

Mrs. Robinson was about to burst into laughter watching Bobby's troubles. How she held it in she'll never know.She was relieved when the boy stood back up with only his undies on.
Then she noticed his cock peaking out, "Bobby get that thing under control before you sit down. Men know how to control their sexy cocks."
She had no idea why she called his member sexy but she wasn't going to take it back especially since it was sexy. She didn't want it to show prematurely - not that it would have long to wait for long for action in all probability.