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Moving...a New Direction

12

Beware of the surprise...

Dad left a couple of years ago. Apparently, Mom had suspected he found someone else, but it was still a shock to the both of us when he announced, somewhat matter-of-factly, that he was moving out to live with his new, young girlfriend. It turned out that she was only a few years older than me and, when I stalked them to find out more, discovered that she was also incredibly attractive: a tall, athletic long-haired blond with abs I envied (I first spied her as they were leaving a 24 Hour Fitness—she'd got him working out, so I guess that was a good thing...Mom had been bugging him for ages—and she was wearing yoga pants and a sports bra and he was sweating like the middle-aged man he was, but was pretending not to be.)

Mom figured her life was pretty much over at that point from a socializing standpoint. Her parents—my grandparents—passed away years ago and now she was facing an empty nest that was emptier than she ever imagined. I felt guilty leaving for college, but she was so supportive and so enthusiastic, so proud that I couldn't disappoint her by not going.

I told her that I couldn't get home for Thanksgiving. That was true at the time. I had papers to write and the travel and family and all that entailed meant that I wouldn't be able to get done what I knew was needed. Mom tried to hold back the tears, but I could tell by the stutter in her voice that she was devastated. I couldn't let that happen and the moment we'd ended our "I love yous" I was browsing the sites for the best deals back home.

It wasn't going to be cheap. I might need to do something about that.

Wyatt grew up in the same town as me, but attended the 'other' high school. It was a source of camaraderie for us alongside some harmless smack-talk and faux confrontation. He was very attractive in that prep boy kind of way, but that's what also made him not my type. Still, our interactions meant that it wouldn't seem totally inappropriate if he unexpectedly received my text.

Moments after I asked if he was going home for Thanksgiving he offered me a free ride home in his expensive car and an invitation to his Last Night pool party, happening in two hours. He told me to bring my luggage and we'd leave from there in the morning...in that "you're welcome to crash here, but I know what we're both thinking" kind of way. A party, free travel, and seeing my Mom...it was easy to say "see you in a bit."

-

I decided to wear my black halter bikini underneath my denim shorts and short shirt. Sure, I looked in the mirror as I left and nodded at the stomach and abs that had undergone rigorous training for the volleyball squad. The party was evidently in full swing by the time my Uber dropped me there. The pool was packed, there were red cups everywhere, and the whole place reeked of weed.

But Wyatt was still the one who answered the door with an enthusiasm I had never seen. I was the focus of his attention for approximately 2.5 seconds before someone whisked him away to fix drinks, find more booze, or direct someone to the 'on-limits' bedrooms. I think he yelled something like "relax, enjoy yourself, see you later" as he was dragged away.

I knew a few people out at the pool and found a seat, a perfect perspective, to observe young people going wild. It was fun to watch the hook-ups, inhibitions weakened by alcohol and fueled by holiday spirit. What an excuse, right? But I did see my friend Damon, by all admissions a nerd, snuggling in the pool with Sarah from our Econ class. As these things go, he's a super-sweet 4 and she's an incredible 8, so to see them together, understanding for a moment what he was probably thinking, it made me chuckle and finish my beer.

By the time I saw Wyatt again the place was quiet. A handful of bodies had crashed but most everyone else had left. He nudged me fully awake and nodded towards a couple half behind the pool hut and half in full glare of the security light. I could instantly tell it was Damon and though I couldn't be certain it was almost certainly Sarah under him receiving a large, awkward pushing. I had to look away.

Unfortunately, "away" was straight to the waist of Wyatt, dressed in tight shorts. They left little to the imagination. I know I had instantly blushed as I looked up at him and saw him give a little knowing smirk. He wasn't wearing a shirt, which was understandable with his six-pack abs and smooth, muscular chest.

"I'm going to crash. I'll leave them to it," he said, nodding over to where Damon was still going at it. "Good for him," he added, "and you're welcome to come in the house to crash, too, though all the rooms are taken, you're welcome to use mine and I'll bunk on the floor."

He was disarmingly charming. I think I nodded as I gathered my senses. He walked into the house and I slowly stretched as I stood and paused for a moment for the dizziness to clear from my head. I walked into the house as Wyatt was bounding up the stairs. The sounds of sex and snoring seemed to be coming from everywhere. A couple were spooning on the couch but their hips were moving just slightly. I tiptoed by but they were oblivious to anyone's presence. Upstairs all the doors were closed except the one at the end of the hallway. I don't know why I loitered at one door other than simply hearing the high-pitched pants of a girl seemingly mid-orgasm, followed by a deeper groan I recognized as a guy finishing. I could see Wyatt with his back to the door and took a step forward before stopping as he unzipped those shorts, let them drop to the ground, then took a longer pair of sweat pants from the bed and pulled them on.

He turned around, seemingly aware that I was stood like a statue. I knew he'd just shown me his naked, muscular ass on purpose. He smiled affectionately and I snapped out of my gaze and walked over. Wyatt closed the door quietly behind me as I shuffled into the room.

"I've got a ton of t-shirts over there—all clean—if you want a night shirt to sleep in. And the bathroom's right there," he nodded to the door to the right, "feel free to use anything...make yourself at home."

I picked a shirt from the top of the pile, still unsure if I would wear it, but feeling a little pressured to take his generosity.

"This one okay?"

"Any," he replied, not even looking my direction as he arranged two bean bags together under the window.

I stared in the bathroom mirror for a few seconds, deciding whether to change...stay dressed...ugh, this shouldn't be so hard.

I washed my face and then decided I'd wear the shirt since I'd had the bikini on all day and it wasn't overly comfortable. I folded my shorts, shirt, and bikini and left them on the counter next to the sink and slipped on the white t-shirt. It only just covered my butt—a side effect of being tall—and realized it had the word "CAT" in bold letters and a picture of an adorable kitten underneath! I chuckled. You would have to be a confident man to wear this...unless, I slowly realized, it was a reference to pussy.

Though the shirt was a little baggy on me I did realize that my nipples were pushing at the fabric. What the hell, we all have them, I thought and went back into the bedroom.

Wyatt had arranged himself on the bean bags and was staring at his iPad. He had what looked like a towel over his legs, up to his waist, and I don't know what it was but the light of his lamp cast caused his muscles to show incredible definition. If I was a photographer I would have taken a picture.

Nervously I pulled back the duvet cover, but stood up and coughed lightly. Wyatt looked up at me and smiled.

"Nice shirt. Just give me a minute and I'll turn off the light, 'kay?"

I nodded and climbed in.

"Look, this is silly," I started, "why don't you just sleep here, it's okay. You might get cold there. Err... you know... it's your room." I was stammering, stuttering as the awkwardness made me nervous.

"If you're sure..."

I pulled back the duvet on the side closest to him and he slowly extricated himself from the bean bags. As he stood up I couldn't help but notice that his sweat pants appeared to be a little pointed. I tried not to look. Wyatt seemed not to notice or care.

-

I woke up to the sound of a shower running and took a moment to remember and recognize where I was. The duvet was down at the bottom of the bed and the t-shirt I was wearing was around my waist. I realized I was exposed down there. And then...if Wyatt had got up earlier and it was like this, and he'd actually looked, he would have seen...OMG! I pulled the duvet up in a hurry right as the water stopped. The door to the bathroom opened and Wyatt was stood there, dripping wet and totally naked. And I had another OMG moment. To add to the ripped body, he was big. Very big.

"Damn, sorry, sorry... wasn't thinking... was... sorry... thought you were asleep... forgot my towel," he stammered.

But then just jogged across the room to the bean bags and retrieved the towel he'd used as a blanket last night.

"Well, I guess..." he smirked, "you showed me yours now I showed you mine!" And he laughed.

My heart nearly stopped. He clearly had seen me. As my mind raced I had choices here on how to react: outrage, embarrassment, dismay. I went with "fuck it, this happened. I tried to take ownership of the situation.

"Did you like what you saw?" I asked.

Wyatt seemed a little taken aback by my sudden forthright flirtation.

"Are you kidding? I've always thought you were incredibly hot, and to see you, well, like that, well, let's just say it had an immediate reaction." He subtly, briefly, nodded his head downwards as though indicating his groin.

"But look at you," he continued, "someone like you would never be interested in a dork like me."

His self-deprecation was also disarming. Without thinking I propped myself up on my elbows and kicked down the duvet. The t-shirt barely covered me, but slowly I opened my legs. Wyatt's eyes followed my knees. I looked back at him and saw the thin towel awkwardly draped around his waist start to move. It was turning me on to see him turned on just by seeing me. I swung my legs to the side of the bed, stood up, and stretched, knowing that it would lift the t-shirt and give him another chance to look. As our eyes met I took a few steps forward to stand in front of him, reached down and pulled at the towel, dropping it easily to the floor. Then I dropped to my knees.

His cock was as big as I'd ever seen and I suddenly wondered if I'd actually be able to fit it in my mouth, but without a word I took it in my hand and pulled at the shaft, then leaned in and wrapped my lips around the head. He was smooth and clean and big and I was going to do this. I pushed my head forward as far as I could, realizing that I could only fit half of him before feeling the gag at the back of my throat.

I felt his hands rest lightly on my head as I got into a rhythm and within a few moments he tensed and put more pressure on my head. He hit the back of my throat but I just kept swallowing and slowed down. I felt his hands brushing at my hair as I continued to lightly rock forwards and backwards, rubbing my tongue along the slit of his cock and feeling each drop leak out.

I pulled back and let the thickness of his cock fall forward, still partially engorged. But I didn't linger, just stood up and said "my time to shower. I allowed myself the merest of glances at Wyatt's face as I walked around him. I chuckled at how rewarding it was to see that my blowing him might have done the same to his brain, such was his disarmed, shellshocked look. But as I closed the bathroom door I did turn to get another glance at his toned, round ass. Most of my shower time was spent wondering what Wyatt was thinking and if there was another move or play here. I couldn't explain that I'd discovered a love of seeing, feeling, and tasting men orgasm since pretty much my first sexual encounter. We needed to be on the road...

With my hair pulled up and no make-up, I figured it best just to move on, so wrapping the towel around my waist and pulling the t-shirt over my head, I emerged to retrieve my clothes. The bedroom was empty so I grabbed my bikini, shorts and shirt and tossed them on the bed. I didn't fancy wearing the bikini again so dropped the towel and pulled on the denim shorts, adjusting them so they didn't rub me too badly. Just as I pulled the t-shirt over my head the door opened and Wyatt stood there, mouth agape.

"So sorry. Sorry. Again," he began stammering.

I paused and casually leaned on the bed to get my short shirt, turning as I did so, knowing he'd be frozen as he looked at my ass. Without trying to cover up or be nervous or giggly I took the shirt, holding it lightly in front of me, but not rushing to pull it on.

"You know exactly how hot that look is, don't you?" Wyatt whispered.

"What look?"

"Denim shorts, bra or shirt... or no shirt."

"You mean this?" And I spread my arms wide, stood in front of him in just those shorts.

"That's mean."

"Mean?"

"To tease like that."

"You're right, I'll stop," and with that pulled over the loose shirt.

I leaned forward in front of Wyatt, knowing that he'd be able to see my firm breasts down the shirt, and picked up my gear.

"Are we ready to go?"

"Urrr..." Wyatt paused and glanced down.

"Come on, let's go."

-

The car journey wasn't too long and while the conversation was awkward at first as we meandered around topics, it became easier, more relaxed as we went along. When we got out of the car at the gas station for a pit-stop I did stretch myself in front of him, knowing that the short shirt would reveal, at the very least, some serious underboob. I flustered him again, and by the time we reached my mom's house I knew that the next time I saw him things would be different.

He was almost nervous and stand-offish as I gave him a hug and peck on his cheek and thanked him for the ride home.

"And thank you for..." His words hung in the air.

"The blowjob?" I asked nonchalantly.

"I was going to say company...but that too. See you Sunday," he finished, smiling sweetly and also coyly.

-

I left my bags on the porch after deciding to sneak in and surprise mom. The front door was unlocked and I skulked inside; this was not my first time practicing getting in the house without being heard! I knew every floorboard squeak and obstacle in the place, including that uneven step on the stairs! I scanned around the living room and kitchen. No mom, but there were several wine bottles in the recycling bag next to the counter. Dad, me not coming home, whatever else must have been hitting her hard and she was countering by hitting the bottle hard.

Then I heard a faint noise coming from upstairs. She must be in her room. As I tiptoed upstairs I could hear her crying, little sobs. I was devastated that I contributed to this, but at least now I could surprise her, though clearly the hurt was already done.

Her bedroom door was mostly open, the light on, and the small sobs got louder. So as not to give her a heart attack I wasn't going to burst in, so sneaked up to the landing and creeped to the corner of her door. Crouching down for reasons I wasn't sure, I peered an eye around the corner. I wasn't prepared for what I saw: a naked man with his back to me, stood at the foot of the bed, his hairy ass moving slowly backwards and forwards. And legs hooked over his arms at the elbow. Mom's legs. Mom wasn't sobbing, she was panting, moaning, and quite possibly getting close.

I froze.

Ducking back I realized this was not something I could now casually walk in on. I heard a man's voice softly say "Okay, okay, I'm ready...cumming soon."

I peeked my eye around the corner again as the man pulled back, then walked to the side of the bed, allowing me to see him from the side as he held his cock in his hand, slowly pulling at it as he clambered awkwardly on to the bed, on his knees, shuffling up towards mom. She propped her heels on the bottom of the bed giving me a view of her pussy in all its glory that I really wasn't expecting.

"Okay, I'm ready, hang on a sec."

That wasn't said by the guy kneeling by mom. From a corner of the room obscured by the door, where there was usually a chair near the master bathroom door, another naked man appeared. He was younger, probably in his 20s, with shaggy dirty blond hair to his shoulders, his limp, cut cock swinging impressively as he walked forwards. He wasn't looking at me because his eyes were fixed on the viewfinder panel of a handheld camcorder.

She was being filmed?

He stood at the other side of the bed adjusting focus or something. I looked towards mom and could see her hand reach to the other man's shorter, chubby penis and then adjust her position, raising her head slightly as she took it into her mouth.

Jeez, mom.

"Ready when you are," said camera guy.

The other man pulled back a bit, removing his cock from my mom's mouth, and began stroking it himself. Mom's hand reached out further and started caressing his hairless balls—maybe he should consider shaving his ass, too, was my first unfortunate thought. Within a few seconds he was jacking himself furiously, then stopped, groaned, and I saw a short stream of his cum slop forward onto mom's cheek. Another fired further, then he shifted slightly and shot two streams towards her mouth. It wasn't a lot—not as much as Wyatt, that's for sure—but enough for me to see and be frozen to the spot.

As he relaxed and stopped pulling at his shaft mom took it in her hand and guided it into her mouth. Wow. The other guy flipped the viewfinder on the camera closed.

"And...scene," he said enthusiastically. I heard mom chuckle slightly. Mom started to prop herself on her elbows, and that meant she might see me, so I ducked back quickly. Not knowing what might happen I made the decision to retreat hastily.

Stood back on the porch I paced, thoughts (and images) racing through my mind. I decided the best idea was to go in and announce myself, yell for mom, and we'd take it from there. I couldn't stand out here for longer or wait for them to leave since it was getting cold and I didn't IF they would leave.

So I opened the front door with more gusto and yelled "Mom, guess who's home!

It was clear that there was a flurry of activity upstairs. I heard footsteps over the pounding of my own heart in my ears.

"Mom, where are you, I'm home."

"Baby, oh, baby," I heard my mom's voice yell from upstairs, and I thought for a moment she may not have heard me and was on to round two with the gruesome twosome, until I realized she was shouting with genuine surprise. As I went to the kitchen I heard feet padding down the stairs and saw mom heading my way wearing her robe, holding a towel and rubbing at her face. She just stood in front of me for a second, and I knew that she was thinking that she couldn't hug me if she had some guys cum on her face.

"Oh my, you've scared me half to death. What a lovely surprise. What happened to your plans? What are you doing here?"

I gave her a short overview and took the opportunity to ask what she was doing.

"Oh, just taking a shower, dear," and wiped her head again with the towel. That stuff was probably going everywhere.

"Really? What have you been up to?" My tone was jokingly confrontational.

Mom's response was to ignore the question and go on the offensive.

"I see your college funds have meant that you're too poor to afford a bra," and she nodded towards my chest.

It was cold outside and my nipples were very hard and poking quite obviously against the thin fabric of my t-shirt.

"And you had a boy drive you home like that?" Her tone was questioning, but not quite so joking.

I also decided to ignore the question, and just then heard more footsteps coming down the stairs. I looked at mom and furrowed my brow. Two faces peeked around the corner.

12
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