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By *aulkner OP Man
over a year ago
South shields |
Don’t ask me if I remember Mrs Bryce’s first name. But I can tell you what her bra size was.
Two days after my sixteenth birthday and I was locked out of our house. My mum was working and I had left my key inside.
Mrs Bryce, our next door neighbour kept a spare key. She lived alone but mum always said she should have remarried being as she wasn’t ‘old’ old, and she was too nice a lady to be by herself.
Opening the door to me, Mrs Bryce beamed the big warm smile I knew her for.
“Sorry to bother you Mrs Bryce but I was wondering if I could use our spare key. I’ve left mine in the house…”
“Of course my lovely, come on in while I find it for you.” She said, beckoning me in, adding “I was just about to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?”
Sitting on her settee in the living room, I was watching the to and fro of the huge pendulum in her grandfather clock when I became aware of her laundry airing by the fire place. More especially, the two white bras hung around one of the upper rungs. Being a teenage boy, in the days before the internet, my access women’s underwear was very limited indeed. The Grattan’s catalogue, lingerie section and maybe the girls at school if it was a hot day and they were wearing thin blouses were all I had to work with.
Glancing through to make sure the coast was clear, I picked one of the bras off the airer and marvelled at how smooth the cups felt. A label sewn into the side read ‘40JJ’ which meant nothing to me at the time, but I could see, this bra was built to support very large breasts. The lace around the upper edge of the cups against my cheek had me adjusting the front of my trousers.
“Does that feel nice?” Mrs Bryce said, reappearing and carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.
Not knowing whether to run, sit, walk or have the ground swallow me whole, there and then, I put the bra back on the airer and sat down with my eyes on the floor.
“No need to feel embarrassed… just natural for a boy your age” Mrs Bryce comforted me.
The porcelain cups ratted against their saucers as Mrs Bryce placed the tray on the table by the fire and came over to sit beside me.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to touch my…” Mrs Bryce’ tone was soft and calming. “I take it you don’t have a girlfriend yet?”
The way my gaze remained fixed on the floor must have given the game away.
“Most natural thing in the world…” Mrs Bryce said, placing her hand on mine.
One button at a time, Mrs Bryce opened her blouse. Trying not to turn my head too much, I couldn’t help staring at the fabric as it fell away from her breasts. The lace on the cups was clearly in view when I realised my cock was becoming hard. When Mrs Bryce’ blouse was fully open and I could see her whole bra, I looked up and she was looking straight into my eyes. I couldn’t look away.
Mrs Bryce took my hand and placed it on the full cup of her bra, encouraging me to squeeze a little. Seeing me adjusting the bulge between my legs, she beckoned me to stand in front of her.
Unzipping my trousers and pulling them down around my ankles, Mrs Bryce pulled my briefs down under my balls. Like a kid in a candy shop, I wasn’t sure where to look. Mrs Bryce’ tits in front of me, her warm gaze looking up at me, or her fingers wrapped gently around my very, very stiff cock.
“You have a beautiful cock… any girl would be lucky to have you.” Mrs Bryce smiled as she spoke the comforting words. Lifting a single finger to her lips, she wet the tip and circled the thick head of my cock with her warm saliva. Watching her saliva mix with the smooth glistening precum already at the opening was mesmerising. When her fingers gripped a little more tightly around the shaft and began to move, ever so slowly, Mrs Bryce moved her mouth closer to the thick, angry tip.
“Such a big, hard cock…” Mrs Bryce was looking directly at the thick meat in her hand now. Moments later her lips brushed the underside of the tip and I felt that familiar swelling, burning sensation at the base.
“That’s it… let it come… I want it all…” Mrs Bryce words had barely left her mouth as my spunk spattered across her lips, across her cheek and even some in her hair. Smiling like she had gotten her way, Mrs Bryce licked the last few drops from the tip before wiping her face and neck with a tissue.
The next few months saw me back at Mrs Bryce’ house and before I moved for Uni a few years later, Mrs Bryce and I had a few more afternoons right there, in her living room, including one particularly memorable time with her teaching me how to satisfy a woman with my tongue.
But that’s another story.
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