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I had just stepped out of the shower when the door to the bathroom opened and Simon our houseguest, barged in. “Oops sorry Rebecca,’” he said. “No problem, it was an accident,” I conceded while I took the several steps required to reach the towel. He didn’t quickly exit as I would have expected but just stood there, his eye transfixed on my breasts. I grabbed a towel and held it to my front. “Is it ok if I get dressed now or are you busting for a pee or whatever?” “No, no, sorry, I can use the other bathroom or wait,” he said, with cheeks now coloured. A wry smile appeared before he gave me the once over then left me alone. That was surprisingly bold and quite out of character. I thought and wondered if he deliberately neglected to knock before barging in. Simon and I worked for the same company and our main task was to prepare patent submissions on new ideas or inventions. He had come to South Australia from our interstate headquarters to help with recent problems of a cyber attack on our electronic files. Initially, he was only supposed to be here for a few weeks but our small office had surprisingly secured a lucrative IP contract from a big international company. In many ways, we were out of our depth with this new project but Simon was in his element and understood the idea better than anyone. He even made improvements to the concept much to the delight of the customer. He was a typical computer geek, in his early twenties, single and despite being quite good looking was painfully shy, particularly around women. With most people he had an unfortunate habit of not looking at the person, he was talking with.He would look away, up in the air, close his eyes or simply cover his face with his hand. These behaviours put people off and to make matters worse he would start to stammer if he was in any way, the focus of attention. I spent a lot more time with Simon than anyone else. Around me, he was much more relaxed and did not slip into his unfortunate shy habits so we worked well together. I secured the contract that Simon was recruited to help us with. It was more good luck than anything as the lead came from an old friend of my husband’s. For some unknown reason, his company selected us to do the work, possibly through fear that the bigger firms that specialised in the field were all working on similar developments. We also became friends in a limited way. Simon regularly came to our house for dinner where he was quite relaxed with my husband Bill and our eighteen-year-old daughter, Vanessa. Bill is a design engineer and to his delight, Simon was able to assist with his computer expertise and had an uncanny ability to know what Bill’s competitors were up to. Friday dinners became a weekly event and it wasn’t long before Simon volunteered to assist with Vanessa’s schoolwork, particularly mathematics. She was in her final year of high school and needed to do as well as she can for a preferred university place next year. We were all pleased with her improved grades. Over time Simon started to open up a little more about himself and we learned that his mother had died when he was very young so perhaps in his mind I partly filled that gap in his life. He never said anything about his father and did not seem to have any contact with him. The rumour around the office was that Simon was gay, a label I would find out in time to be completely wrong. The new contract brought in additional work which meant that Simon’s time here was extended for several more weeks but just before he was due to head home, state borders closed due to the Covid virus.  Surprisingly it was Bill, my husband, who suggested Simon might like to stay with us rather than continue in his hotel accommodation. Simon eagerly accepted the offer. kaçak iddaa That was nearly five months ago. As I drove to work that morning I was glad I didn’t chastise him for the indiscretion, after all, there was no harm done, all he did was look. I have been blessed with good genes and at forty-two I am still comfortable with my own body. The initial surprise and shock of his blatant ogling when he saw me naked quickly dissipated to a more pleasurable almost gratifying sensation. I had to admit to myself that I enjoyed the attention and it rekindled a little of my past before I was married. For most women, to be viewed as a sex object is quite abhorrent. I could understand that and felt the same way until my late teens. However, that changed after my seduction by an older married woman when I was nineteen. She was also a wonderful lover and showed me how to enjoy my body and reciprocate in so many ways. Our affair lasted for over a year and I was heartbroken when she ended the relationship. We were nearly caught by one of her teenage sons in a very compromising situation. The close call unnerved her and she decided she wasn’t willing to jeopardise her marriage and family. After the breakup, I buried the desire for other women and indulged in numerous relationships with men, particularly one-night stands. Usually, I would go to pubs and bars to be picked up, preferably by some anonymous alpha male. On those encounters I craved the hunger in those men’s eyes and the jostling for my attention. I liked the power it gave me and ultimately my submission to the alpha male; the satiation of my rampant needs. Danger and excitement were the aphrodisiac and the greater the risk the higher the likelihood of a satisfying climax. These nights out weren’t always successful. Some men, quite a lot actually, were unimaginative, to say the least, especially the ones who only wanted their self-release without any consideration for me. I also developed a reputation at some of the venues I frequented, this led to some scary violent encounters. Eventually, I realised it was time for me to move on so I relocated to a different city some 2000 kilometres away where I met Bill, my future husband.  He was good-looking and well on his way to being a successful engineer, ultra-conservative and wonderful husband material. I consigned my decadent lifestyle to history and looked forward to a comfortable existence as a respectable wife and mother. That was over twenty years ago. When Simon moved in he initially occupied the extra bedroom on the ground floor opposite Vanessa’s with a shared bathroom. After about a month he asked if it was ok if he relocated to the spare bedroom upstairs, I suspected there was some reason but he wouldn’t say why he wanted to move and I didn’t push him. In all fairness, Simon would have generally assumed the bathroom he barged into would be vacant since his bedroom was the only other one on the upstairs level. He did not know I often used this extra bathroom to the one attached to the master bedroom, especially during the morning rush to get to work.   The next morning I made certain the bathroom door was locked and left the shower door slightly ajar so I could observe the door handle. I wanted to see if he attempted to repeat the process of barging in without knocking first. If so I felt it was my responsibility to provide some counselling and reinforce some social etiquette. The handle didn’t move nor was there any other evidence that anyone intended to enter. I kept watch and listened for a potential invasion all to no avail. I even stood around naked for quite a while to see if something would eventuate, I almost hoped he would try to open the door. After a while, common sense prevailed and I kaçak bahis put on my robe and went back to my bedroom without incident.  Each day I used the spare bathroom for my morning shower without incident. By Friday I concluded that Simon’s initial intrusion was probably accidental. On my way back to my bedroom I saw him coming down the hall. All he wore was his running shorts and his muscular, lean torso was damp with sweat; he had just returned from his morning run. “Good morning,” I said brightly. He paused, smiled and his eyes gravitated to the gap of my gown somewhere below my neck.   “Morning,” he said and quickly moved the jumble of clothes he carried to his front then continued to the bathroom. His neck and cheeks looked a little flushed. Concerned he may be unwell, I turned to say something but the door closed behind me and I heard the click of the lock.  On reflection, I was glad I had not said anything as it occurred to me he was possibly covering an erection. My face flushed, excited by the thought and I was gratified by delicious little tingles that emanated from my groin. The next day was Saturday so there was no morning rush and Bill had left early for golf. I usually arise late after a bit of extra sleep. Simon and Vanessa are normally up by then and are accustomed to getting their breakfast. I decided to start a load of washing before I showered and dressed. I got out of bed and put on my robe.   Simon’s room had that musty smell I suspected was from a recent masturbation session. Something I have got used to with mixed feelings. I pulled back the bedclothes and sure enough, there was the tell-tale dampness on the sheets. The aroma was powerful. I breathed a deep, involuntary breath as I leaned forward to remove the sheets, bundled them up and trundled downstairs. Simon and Vanessa were having breakfast in the kitchen. “Hi you two,” I said. They both looked up, Simon quickly looked away when he saw the armload of soiled linen. “Pew,” said Vanessa and placed her hand over her nose in mock defence. Poor Simon went red in the face. I didn’t say anything and continued to the laundry eager to avoid any further comment from my daughter. I was furious with her and focused on sorting the washing. To add to my irritation I could not find the new panties I wore earlier in the week. They were a recent indulgence purchased with the fond hope that they may entice Bill to be a little more attentive in bed. I wore them a couple of days ago without success and was determined to give them another try but now they were missing. The matching bra was there but no panties. No doubt I had dropped them on the way down from upstairs. When I reached the kitchen there was no sign of Simon. I glared at my daughter. “Sorry, mum,” Vanessa said. I didn’t reply initially but stood and waited for her to hopefully continue. “About what,” I eventually said  “About the sheets,” she added. “It was a bit unnecessary.”  “Yeah, I know, maybe I should go and apologise?” “Probably a good idea. I take it this is not the first comment you have made on the subject?” She dropped her eyes and focused on the empty plate in front of her. “Well yes but only that I was not impressed with the cum globs on the shower wall. All I said was he could clean up after himself.”  Oh shit.  “You had better explain, what happened?” “When I mentioned it he got embarrassed and didn’t say anything, I felt bad about it. I sort of said it without thinking.” There are always two sides to a story I conceded and I could appreciate her irritation. This would have been difficult for anyone to have to deal with let alone a teenage girl. I struggled to think of something to say. Vanessa again broke the awkward silence. “Look, I like the guy and I have illegal bahis absolutely no problems with him living with us. He is just like a brother to me. I know, he’s a guy and they do these things.” Her face was coloured and she had the hint of a smile. “That was sort of why he moved bedrooms,” she continued. “What was?” I said a little confused. “So he could have sole access to a bathroom,” she said very quietly. I pulled out a chair as sat at the table next to her. “What! did he do something inappropriate? Vanessa paused. I was fearful of what may come next. “No,” she said, “but Simon was spending a lot of time in the bathroom, obviously jerking off. I could often smell it as soon as I went into the room. To make matters worse he wasn’t very fastidious about cleaning up. Often I would find um cum on the wall of the shower cubicle this high.” She indicated a height a little above her eye level. “Or on the floor,” she continued, “so I had something to say about it.” I felt my face start to flush with an awareness that she was a lot more experienced than I thought. I was glad I was sitting down. She seemed to read my mind and blushed. I reached over and took her hand, relieved, she did not resist. “I have jerked a couple of guys off,” she said by way of explanation, “mainly to divert them from trying to do more.” Her candidness took me by surprise and I think I stopped breathing for a few seconds while I digested what she said. “I’m pleased you have the foresight to avoid what could have resulted in more serious consequences like pregnancy,” I said, “I’m very proud of you. Some guys can get quite nasty when aroused. “Been there, done that,” I added. Her eyes widened at my response. “You mean when you were dating, like before you met dad.” “Yes.” “Did you enjoy it, playing with them, getting them excited?” Shit, what am I going to say here, be honest, I told myself. “To tell the truth, yes. It would usually start when I gave them access to my boobs. That excited me too, I liked the feeling and the desire. The big buzz was when I would indicate I wanted to play with their cocks. I was in control then.” “I can’t believe this,” she said and giggled a little. “Sorry, I have gone too far,” I said, suddenly embarrassed. “No mum, you misunderstand me, I get the same feelings. I like the power I have over guys and love watching them get aroused. I admit it gets me going as well. However, I generally refuse to go out with someone again who I needed to pacify. They would just demand more and I need to keep my horniness under control or I will let them do more than I want in the heat of the moment.” She looked at me with a nervous grin. “I know what you mean by them wanting more and I’m pleased to hear that you have been able to handle the situation in a realistic way,” I said and squeezed her hand. I was overjoyed to feel her reciprocate.  But it is also wonderful to submit to a virile man when you become aroused, and like me, you will succumb eventually, I thought to myself but did not dare to say out loud, well not at that moment anyway. “By the way, can some guys shoot that high?” she asked. “Um yes, and I remember with one guy I had to make sure I wasn’t in the firing line.” She giggled at that one, I chuckled at the memories as they flooded in, after a thoughtful pause she added. “A couple of my friends, and I won’t say who, have um, gone all the way with their boyfriends.” For a few seconds I thought she would leave it there then she continued,” they say sex is overrated, the guys just hump away, climax and that’s it.” “Sadly a lot of young men and plenty of older ones don’t have a clue on how to satisfy a woman,” I said but before I could continue she gave a little gasp and indicated we may have an eave dropper. I went to the doorway but there was no one there. Then I heard someone, no doubt Simon, rapidly climb the stairs and the sound of a door closing. Vanessa heard it too and had a smile on her face.

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