Under His Spell - Sex Stories

Under His Spell

... whirring, going over what I’d done. I’d let a boy—a boy, less than half my age—feel me up, touch me, and…get me off. What had I done? Ash returned a few minutes later, and though I avoided looking at him, I could feel his eyes on my face, on my body. I could feel his scorching gaze—was he remembering how wet I’d been for him, how easily I’d let him past my defenses—and how much I’d enjoyed it. He didn’t stay long after that—he was taking Georgia to see a movie, so less than five minutes later, he was out of my house. But in those five minutes, I could tell he was undressing me with his eyes. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between us—it was so obvious to me that I felt sure my husband would notice, or Georgia would say something…but they just smiled and made polite conversation as if nothing had ever happened. Those five minutes were hell. At any moment, I was sure that Georgia was going to smell me on her boyfriend, or my husband was going to notice my odd behavior. I couldn’t relax—I tried not to give anything away, but I can’t ever remember being that tense before. And worse, I was turned on. Knowing that the kid who had just finger-fucked me was making polite conversation with the love of my life—it was strangely thrilling. Combined with the fact that Ash wouldn’t stop blatantly checking me out, and the memory of what we’d just done…by the time Ash and my daughter left, I was practically dripping, and if I didn’t know that it would have raised ...

... suspicion, I would have thrown my husband down right there on the couch, and ridden him to orgasm. Instead, knowing that he’d be up for a few more hours, I claimed tiredness, and went to bed early. For the next few hours, I just lay in bed and masturbated, roughly thrusting two fingers into myself, trying to mimic the exact way that Ash had done it. I managed to get myself off twice before my husband came to bed, and I had to pretend to be asleep. * * * The next time Georgia brought her boyfriend home, I was alone in the house. It was a Tuesday night, and my husband was out with his bowling buddies. Since Ash’s last visit, I’d been insatiable—as soon as Georgia had left for netball practice on Saturday, I’d practically jumped my husband, but even several hours of love-making hadn’t been enough to satisfy me. There had been no warning that Ash was coming around again, and his appearance startled me so much that even my daughter noticed. I assured her that I was all right, and her attention quickly went back to her beau. I could certainly see why she was so fascinated by him—Ash was quite classically handsome. He had cheekbones to rival Bowie’s, and his piercing stare managed to make you feel like you were the only woman in the world. At least, that’s how it made me feel. Georgia had lost something in her room, and as soon as she left to fetch it, Ash’s hands were all over me. He didn’t ask permission, he didn’t wait to see how I’d react—he just stepped forward, planted one hand on my ...