Feel free to reply to this and let me know what you think of it (what you liked best / least, if it turned you on, etc.) After putting the finishing touches on her makeup, Heather studied herself in the mirror. One of the luxuries of having her own bathroom was that she could stay nude until the last possible minute. Her life was constrained in so many other ways that the sensation of freedom it brought helped bring a bit of relaxation to the start of her otherwise hectic days. At 5'8" tall, Heather was of average height. She was fairly slim, due more to the benefits of a high metabolism than to any exercise routine, but still posessed of enough curves to appear more feminine than boyish. She was of mixxed ancestry, mostly German and Italian, and her skin was smooth with a slight tan. Her hair was a rich brown, the color of dark chocolate. When loose, it hung down past her shoulders, but currently she had it tied up in a french twist for the office. Her eyes were brown as well, vibrant, and flanked by long black lashes. Depending on the maker, she fit either a B or a C cup. Though she certainly had the money to buy implants it never struck her as a worthwhile way to spend it. Her areola were a shade of brownish pink, large and distinctively puffy. They'd been that way since she was a teen, and though she thought they'd flatten out with age, but if anything they'd gotten a little worse. She wasn't particularly embarassed by them, but she had taken to wearing padded bras just to keep them from attracting too much attention from beneath her shirt. Although she never looked favorably on plastic surgery, she wasn't opposed to spending money on herself in general. She had her nails done on a regular basis and they were currently painted a deep shade of red. If her grooming differed from the normal fashion trendsof the day, it was probably her stubborn insistence on keeping her pubic region natural. She was a woman, in her early thirties, and hated the amount of pressure on women these days to shave themselves to the extent of pre-pubescent mimicry. She maintained a luxurious bush of dark brown pubic hair, just a shade darker than the hair atop her head. As she regarded her appearance, it occurred to her that while she would never call herself a supermodel, she certainly felt herself to be attractive... she felt wasted on her husband. As she dressed, she reflected that really she had no one to blame for that but herself. She had always been ambitious (a fact proven by her graduation with honors from Law School). They met several years ago at college when she was a grad student and he a part time professor. It was a marriage more of convenience than of love. He was a nice enough man, but truth be told it was probably his connections that appealed to her more... the guarantee of an "in" with one of the better law firms. Similarly, she cut the figure of the type of wife a man in his position was expected to have on his arm. And so it was, with more planning than passion, the two found themselves wed. For the first few months they went through the motions of being happy newlyweds. She was a virgin when they married, and for all the talk she'd heard about how amazing sex could be, she found the reality disappointing. His maneuvers in the bedroom were quite similar to those he used in the courtroom... too emotionless and too well planned out. But lawyers were one part thespian (the good ones, anyways), and so she acted the part, putting out her moans and convulsions. Not too many to be suspicious, but enough to leave him satisfied that he'd finished the job so she could get some rest. Life had a hectic monotony about it. What sexual frustration she might've had was easily buried in her legal work, of which there was no shortage. With his references and connections she was able to land a position in the type of law firm she'd always wanted, but found herself with little free time to enjoy the rewards. And so it was that she found herself with no objections when her sister in law had asked if her son, Jason, could stay with them for a few weeks this summer. He was eighteen and had just graduated from high school this past May. He'd wanted to visit New York City for some time, and although they lived in Connecticut it was quite easy to catch trains into and out of the Big Apple. He'd be off to college in the fall and an inexpensive but fun vacation seemed like a good way for him to kill some time. Heather took one last look in the mirror. She was now dressed in a grey, skirted business suit. She wore pantyhose a similar tone to her skin and black dress shoes. She had a little bit of gold jewelry, enough to accessorize, but no so much as to look gaudy. On the whole, she was dressed fairly conservativelhy, but she found through experience that it played better with some of the older judges she routinely had hearing her cases. Her husband would be gone already. A few years ago it might have bothered her that he never said goodbye, but it had become their routine and in truth she now hardly noticed it. What she did notice was that the door to the guest room was still closed. Jason had come in lastnight, after she'd already gone to bed. Bill had picked him up from the airport and brought him back home. She'd met the boy before, a few years ago at a Thanksgiving get together. He was a sweet boy at the time, shy, and a little on the small side for a thirteen year old. Still, from what few conversations she had with him, he'd seemed like a bright boy and she was glad they could help sate some of his curiosity about the big city. She knocked gently at the door, but there was no answer. She knocked a little louder... "Jason?" With no reply, she opened the door, expecting to find the room empty. Instead she found him lying sound asleep on the bed. He was barely recognizable as the boy she'd met five years ago. Time and puberty were doing their part to transition the sweet boy into a strapping young man. He was much taller now, perhaps 6'1" or 6'2". It was hard to tell with him lying atop the king-sized bed. He was shirtless and lightly muscled, the physique of someone who played a light sport like baseball or swimming. She smiled, noticing that his chestnut hair was still worn in the same loose hairstyle as the last time she saw him, at least some things stayed the same. She sat down next to him, gently shaking his shoulder. "Jason, it's time to wake up. The last train into the city leaves in a couple hours. Time to get a move on." He let out a soft snore and continued sleeping soundly. Heather smiled to herself when her attention was caught by movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing down towards his waist she could vaguely make out the shape of his erect penis below the sheets. She starteld slightly, as what she was seeing didn't make much sense to her. She couldn't imagine a grown man being that well hung, let alone a seventeen year old. If the head of his cock was where she thought it was, that would put it up past the top of his belly button. Thinking she must've been imagining it, she was about to turn away when she saw it bob again, his erect cock lifting briefly upwards as it throbbed, moving the sheets with it... her mouth fell open. The next few moments were spent swimming in an excruciating mix of conflusion, lust, and curiosity. She sat transfixed, watching the bedsheets move periodically as his morning wood danced. She wanted desperately to know if what she was seeing was real, but at the same time felt ill at the thought of taking such advantage of the boy and so severely invading his privacy. Ultimately, her curiosity won out. She'd just take a peek, she thought. And if he woke up, she could easily pretend the covers had moved while he was sleeping and she was just trying to pull them back up. Heather's eyes remained locked on his face as she very slowly and delicately started to lift back the sheets. She watched him for the slightest sign that he was waking... any hint of movement or sound beyond his current sleep. But he didn't wake or even stir as she pulled the bedsheet back. Pleased with herself, she glanced downwards to take a look at his manhood and her heart skipped a beat. To say that Jason had the biggest cock she'd seen in her life would be an understatement. Her husband measured in at a little over four inches and his was the only one she'd ever seen up close. She'd seen a few more, mostly on the internet, around six inches in length and those had always seemed big to her. But his was enormous, easily nine inches, if not a little more. His length was complimented by girth, and though she couldn't put to numbers how big around it might be, she felt herself swooning at the thought of trying to take that much inside of her. Her heart was racing as she stared at his cock. He didn't look circumcised, but it was hard to tell given the extreme state of his erection. The head was fully exposed, swollen, and a rosy shade of pink. She could make out the veins under his skin, no moreso than other cocks, but nicely textured none the less. Every few seconds it would throb, lifting from his stomach and pointing up at an angle, swelling a bit more than she could think possible, before falling back down to rest on his stomach. She would never be able to figure out exactly why she did it, but before she realized what she was doing, her fingers were running up and down the length of him, all the way down to the underside of his balls and up to the very tip of his head. She was barely touching him, afraid of waking him, but the way he felt beneath her caresses was nothing short of exhilarating.