Rhapsody in Red - Sex Stories

Rhapsody in Red

... Ever since she'd caught him masturbating into a pair of her knickers he'd had no other choice. He closed his eyes and thought about that moment as he lay among the soothing suds, idly stroking himself at the memory. He'd just started work at the store; cleaning floors, running errands, nothing above his limited ability to push a mop or fetch lunch for his boss. Gordon had never aspired to greater things as he knew he wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, he'd been told so often enough to leave little doubt in his own mind. 'Gordon is a moron!' That was the chant most often heard at school where he'd suffered many painful indignities before leaving at sixteen. He must've been eighteen or nineteen when his mother found out his dirty secret though. He remembered it had been a hot day, hot enough to melt the tar on the driveway, as he made his way home on the bus. A friend of his mothers, Mrs Warner - or was it Mrs Walker? - Gordon shook his head in irritation, it didn't matter. She had sat beside him on the way home, probably because the bus was full, he thought sullenly. He hated having to talk to anyone on the bus and replied with a monosyllable here and there in what he hoped were the right places. His eyes were drawn to her full breasts that almost poured from the summer dress, distracting him from his usual scrutiny of the familiar landmarks going by. The sun shone through the window, illuminating her buxom breasts beneath the thin material which gallantly strove to keep ...

... them decently covered. He'd had erections before, usually in the dark privacy of his bedroom, but nothing like the one pitching a tent in his trousers. Luckily she'd got off the bus two stops before him and he'd managed to walk home holding his bag strategically placed to avoid further embarrassment. He could've swore she bade him goodbye with a knowing smile and he felt his face flush red at the thought she knew exactly what he'd been thinking! He arrived to find the house empty and made his way upstairs to the bathroom. His trapped erection must've hit a nerve or something as he needed to pee real bad! Unfortunately there was no way to relieve himself as his hard-on refused to go down and the more he tried the harder it got. In desperation he slapped it which only made his balls tighten and he realised the only way to relive the pressure would be to masturbate. His hand moved cautiously, usually he did this in his pyjamas and the stimulation of his bare hand didn't provide the necessary friction to enable his orgasm. He looked around, spotted the laundry basket under the sink and shuffled over to see what he could find. The basket was full due to washday being tomorrow and he fished out his pyjama bottoms distastefully as he'd used them for this very function already. A pair of his mothers French knickers fell on the floor as he pulled them from the basket. He looked at them, then at the soiled garment in his hand, torn between the need to respect his mothers privacy and the ...