No One As Grateful As Her
When I was nineteen, this lady used to come to our house once a week for housekeeping. At that age, I used to masturbate all the time. So, it was a pain in the neck since she used to clean out my bedroom during the afternoon. She was in her upper fifties and rather prematurely aged because of hard working, but my hormones were so wild I kind of began fantasizing about her. One day, at the time I knew she was coming to my bedroom, I left the door open and began looking at a pornographic magazine lying naked in my bed. She knocked on my door anyways. I pretended being surprised. I covered myself with the magazine and asked her to wait until I got dressed. It only took me seconds to finish my business in my sheets. From that day on, I always pretended being surprised naked, and she pretended not to know I was doing it on purpose. One day when she was cleaning out my bathroom, I went in naked with my erection and pretended to not know she was there. I hadn't finish saying, "I'm sorry," when she had already taken me in her hand. Neither of us said a word. She continued until I finished. After that, she used to play with me once a week. I used to ask her to give me an oral, but she wouldn't do it. One day when I arrived home, she was cleaning out my bathroom. I couldn't help grabbing her from behind, pressing myself against her buttocks. I had been avoiding it but couldn't anymore. When I told her I felt like making love to her, she walked to the window, leaned on it, and pulled her dress up to her waist. We began to have sex. It was more than sex. What we had was a tender session of love. She didn't move from her standing position while I did her softly. When we were done, I laid her down in my bed, removed her undies, and gently cleaned her. I have never seen a more grateful face than hers that day. We didn't do it again after that. We both were kind of ashamed since she was a very good friend of my mother's and knew me since I was a toddler.
— Nathan, 41