Lesbian Euro MILF (First Time Older Woman Younger Woman Romance) (2 page)

I wanted to jump in the air and pump my fist, run around laughing my silly head off. Shouting to everyone that I was coming of age. But I held it together, even gaining a little more courage. Her eyes were closed, and she was so wrapped up in fucking herself it seemed unlikely she would catch me watching her. And if she did I would just pretend to be going to the bathroom.

All that added up to me reaching down and finding my taut clitoris, rubbing it slowly off while I watched my beautiful host Mother touch herself. A finger was quickly drenched in moisture and my stomach was all warm and tingly. It wouldn’t take long to come.

The way the dildo slid in and out of her sex so effortlessly was intriguing. Her pussy must have been completely wet. I had to be careful to not make too much noise as I touched myself, and I gripped the wall tightly, rubbing my clit hard and fast, ready to explode.

Her moaning got louder and her silky body writhed around on the bed. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought she was in pain by the way she was thrashing around.

My legs tightened, and then I exploded. My panties were soaked from the sudden orgasm and I held on to the wall to steady myself.

I ran my palm over the mess I’d made in my underwear, still keeping an eye on Isabella as she fucked herself. Isabella’s back arched as she drilled the vibrator deep between her folds. Her moaning became more urgent. It seemed like it wouldn’t be long before she finished.

My panties were absolutely drenched with my excitement and I decided I should take them off. There was so much of it, I had no idea I could do that.

I’d taken my eye off Isabella so I could slip the wet underwear off as I did I was startled when she suddenly screamed. I winced and froze, ready to bolt down the hall naked if I had to. My first thought was she’d screamed because she saw me but that didn’t make sense because I was completely away from the door at that point. The next logical explanation was that she’d orgasmed.

The moaning stopped and the only sound left was the buzzing of her vibrator. Suddenly, that stopped as well and then the only thing I heard was my heart bashing against my rib cage, threatening to burst out of my chest. If she got up and found me outside her room, naked, with my wet panties in my hand there was no telling what she would do. My mind immediately went to the worst case scenario which must have been her calling the Italian police and accusing me of being a pervert. They’d ship me off and call my parents who would have to fly over and bribe god knows who to get their pervert daughter out of prison.

Fuck that.

Without risking another look at her, or stopping to make sure I’d cleaned up the entire mess I’d dripped onto the floor, I moved my naked ass down the hall as fast as I thought I could without making any noise. I must not have taken a breath the entire time because when I got back to my room and closed the door, again grimacing at the squeak which seemed so much louder in the silent house now, I felt light-headed and had to lay down on the bed and force myself to take slow, deep breaths.

When I was sure I wasn’t going to hyperventilate, and had calmed down enough to realize that Isabella probably hadn’t seen or heard me, my face cracked into a huge grin that then turned into stifled laughter as I held my sweat-covered palm over my mouth.

That was an intense start to the summer. But, not an altogether bad one. If you ignored the part about almost getting caught peeping on my host Mother, it was a very promising beginning to what I had come to think of as my summer of sex. After all, it was the very first time I’d come near a naked woman. And, she’d orgasmed at nearly the same exact time as me. How many young virgin lesbians could say that?

I opened the window and laid down on the bed fantasizing about Isabella’s naked body until the sun came up.

My stomach rumbled and I was starving by that time. I couldn’t wait any longer to eat so I found a clean pair of panties, and a tight, white t-shirt in my suitcase and crept back down the hall. Isabella’s door was still open and I felt the area on the floor where I’d dripped my juices. It was mostly smooth but there were a few rough areas and it wouldn’t hurt to take a wet cloth to it later. I’d do that as soon as I got the chance, I decided.

I could hear the rhythmic sound of deep breaths a person makes when they sleep so I looked inside and saw her laying there naked on top of her purple, silk sheets, even more beautiful now that the sun was up and lighting the room. My nipples immediately stiffened and I briefly considered taking care of myself again in her doorway but it really wasn’t a good idea to make a habit of that. If she found out it would be bad and I felt a little guilty about doing it even that one time. This woman let me into her home, trusted me, prepared food for me like I was one of her family, and I repaid her by fingering myself outside her room.

I shook my head and moved on into the kitchen to find some food, and try to forget about what I’d done. My arousal subsided as I looked through the cabinets for something eat. There was nothing that really looked like breakfast food. Definitely no cereal. Lots and lots of pasta though. Maybe they ate pasta for breakfast. It made sense in a way. Italians were known for their pasta so maybe they had some kind of breakfast noodles.

I looked in the fridge and when I didn’t find any eggs I decided I would just make some spaghetti. I was in Italy, after all. When in Rome and all that jazz. How hard could it be anyway? All you had to do was boil some water. I opened all the cabinets, careful to be quiet and not to wake Isabella because I didn’t especially want to face her yet. She would probably be able to see the shame on my face.

I found a good-sized pot and filled it to the very top with water. It was so full that water splashed out on to the floor as I moved it to the stove. But I managed to get it up there finally and to turn the stove on. The water showed no signs of boiling and I remembered hearing somewhere that it wouldn’t boil if you watched it so I found a rag and knelt down to clean up the water I spilled, thinking I could go wipe the last bit of evidence off the wall after, when a hand on my shoulder made me jump up and whirl around.

Isabella was standing there in the kitchen, a sleepy look on her face, smiling at me. “Good morning, Lacey. Did I scare you?”

I realized I was holding the towel up with my fist clenched so tightly around it the knuckles turned white. Giving her a forced smile, I lowered the towel and tried to act casual. “No, you just startled me. I didn’t know you were there. I didn’t wake you did I?”

It was then that I noticed what she was wearing. I use the term wearing loosely because you could hardly classify what she was wearing as clothes; clothes tended to actually cover your body. The thing she had on was completely see-through. It was like a short gown that barely hung below her ass and it was made of a thin red material. I could clearly see her large breasts, and dark nipples through it as well as her neatly trimmed bush.

I immediately looked away but the damage had been done. My nipples, with a mind of their own, started to harden and I suddenly regretted my own poor choice of clothes. Why on earth I had thought it was a good idea to walk around this woman’s house in nothing but a pair of panties and white t-shirt was beyond me. My nipples were at full force and I had nothing to cover them with so I just swallowed the heavy knot in my throat and tried to smile at her, hoping I could sway her attention from my chest with confidence alone.

But that wasn’t to be.

Her eyes immediately went to the shameful display of hormones and desire under my shirt. My face burned with embarrassment and I wanted to run but it was like my legs were frozen in place. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even turn from her and hide in shame as she walked towards me, still looking at my breasts.

“What’s the matter,” she said, “are you nervous?” Coming closer still.

I couldn’t help but look at her perfect breasts swaying back and forth beneath the sheer material. I wasn’t used to seeing another woman’s boobs unencumbered by a bra and the fluid motion with which they moved seemed to hypnotize me.

She stopped right in front of me and it took all my will power to look her in the eye. Her sweet smile helped to relax me a little and I felt a small bit of tension leave my shoulders.

She said, “You don’t mind if I dress this way do you? In Europe, nudity and sexuality are completely normal for us. You understand? I know that Americans can be uncomfortable with it so you’ll tell me if it’s a problem won’t you?”

I quickly nodded, not wanting to give her any reason to put on clothes. This was like every exchange students wet dream come true and I wasn’t going to fuck it up, embarrassment or not.

“Good,” she said, looking down at my breasts. “It doesn’t seem to bother you.” She grinned.

It was too much. I covered my chest and looked away, too embarrassed to meet her dark, seductive eyes. The shame of masturbating outside her room crept back into my thoughts.

“Hey, Lacey. It’s not a problem,” she said. “We’re family here. I’ll take care of you like a Mama, okay?”

I still couldn’t look at her.

Then she took me in her arms, burying my face in her chest once again. The smooth skin was warm and smelled of lotion.

I sighed and wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her to me, letting her take me in her motherly embrace. My hard nipples pressed uncomfortably against her breasts and my pussy was so warm and moist. She had to feel it. There was no way she could miss it. I tried to pull my hips back away, but she moved a hand down my back to just above my waist and pulled me closer. Now my pussy pressed against her leg. Holy shit! This was the closest my virgin sex had come to a woman and I could feel it throbbing against her.

Finally, she kissed me on the corner of the mouth, smiling, and moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast in her see-through nighty like there wasn’t anything odd about it at all. She laughed when I told her what the boiling pot of water was for.

After breakfast I excused myself and hurried to my room, closing the door, before I furiously abused my cunt, thinking about Isabella’s body and imagining what it would be like to slip my fingers inside her wet Italian pussy. That lasted only about ten seconds before gushes of orgasm exploded all over the clean sheets and I collapsed down into the bed, careful to avoid the second mess I’d made that day.

Chapter 3

School was going well. My classmates were an eclectic bunch from all over. Mostly Europeans. I’d been invited to go hang out after school with some of them but so far I’d declined giving a lame excuse about needing to study, but at that point I didn’t really care if they thought I was lame or not. All my energy was wrapped up in Isabella. I would hurry home after school everyday, nearly running, and my pussy would be wet before I was even in the front door.

We would take long walks in the country side, or listen to Italian tenors which she apparently loved by the way, and then she would cook for me. God, that woman could really cook. And it was a good match because I could really eat. I was eating more than I ever had and she seemed to enjoy having someone to feed.

And when we were at the house she was always wearing some variation of the see-through nighty from the first day. It was magical. I started to get comfortable looking at her body. She didn’t mind at all; she actually enjoyed it. I knew that because she told me so. And there was no hint of weirdness with her about it either. It was so normal for her.

I’d also taken to just wearing panties and a bra around the house. It was so hot and there was no AC so it was only practical. But of course I loved showing her my toned body I’d worked so hard to get. And she’d smile when I would invariably get wet, a small patch showing in my panties, as I watched her move around the kitchen cooking food for us.

I came in the front door, my sex already drenched, and I threw my bag down then immediately started stripping my clothes off. “I’m home, Isabella,” I called out.

Down to my underwear, I moved from room to room looking for her but she wasn’t anywhere. Maybe she went to the market.

No problem. I could just masturbate real fast so I wouldn’t be so horny around her. That was one of the tactics I’d been using since I’d been here. Actually, I was masturbating more than I ever had in my life. I went to my room and sat at the desk, then started searching for lesbian MILF porn. I found one with a brunette that looked a little like Isabella. The woman wasn’t as beautiful as her but who was.

The girl licking her pussy was young, and I stroked myself while I imagined she was me and the woman was Isabella. My panties were down around my ankles and I squeezed my aching breasts as I worked my clitoris. The woman was moaning loudly and I was close to coming.

“Lacey! What are you doing?”

Uh oh. I slammed the laptop lid shut and turned my head to find Isabella looking at me with her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. “I’m sorry Isabella!” My face was turning red and I realized I still had my hand buried in my pussy. I pulled it out and tried to pull my panties up, saying, “I… I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t think you were here.”

She came towards me, her face softening some, and her eyes were trained on my bare pussy which I still hadn’t managed to cover.

I stood up from the chair so I could get my panties up, turning away from her to hide my shame.

“Lacey, look at me.”

I slowly turned to face her, but I couldn’t look her in the eye so I looked down at her feet.

“Hey,” she said, bringing her soft hand to my cheek.

It felt so comforting and I started to relax a little. I looked up at her then, those mysterious dark eyes making me feel less ashamed.

“Listen,” she said. “I don’t mind if you do this.” She pointed down at my pussy. “You are a healthy young woman and young women have needs. I know that, I’m a woman too. But why do you hide it from me?”

“I…” I didn’t know what to say.

“In this house we don’t sneak around doing naughty things.”

My thoughts went back to the first night when I’d spied on her masturbating. Did she know? How could she? Either way I felt bad. “I’m sorry,” I said.