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Nude Housework

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Babes

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in this story are of legal age.

This story does not contain a lot of raw sex and intercourse. If that is what you are looking for, you may want to move on to some other story now.

March 10

I have not been writing in a diary for over fifteen years, but it is all becoming too much. I need to let my feelings out, get rid of some of my frustration, or else I’m going to explode.

My name is Monica. I am 44 years old. I married Tom a little over a year and a half ago. Tom is 49 and has a son from his first marriage. His name is Sanjay, but everybody calls him SJ. He just turned 18 last month.

Sanjay is the problem. Well, one of them. You see, Sanjay resents me. After his mother left when Sanjay was 11, his father was all he had left, and he became his whole world. Now that I’m in the picture, SJ believes that I am going to take his father away from him, that I am going to steal his love, and that eventually, he will abandon him, just as his mother has done.

I tried, I really have. I have explained to Sanjay that I could never replace his mother. I have told him that his father will always love him more than he loves me. I have paid a lot of attention to SJ, tried to help him, to bond with him. Despite having said that I could never replace his mother, I have tried to do just that, and still: he hates me.

Nothing has been working, and now Tom is starting to get on my back as well. He claims that I’m not trying hard enough, that I should somehow magically know what to do, just because I am a woman. So we are fighting about it more often, and it’s not helping either one of us. And Tom is often away from home, due to his job as crew chief for a large construction company building huge hotels in Kuwait. We see him maybe 8 weeks a year, and even our fights have to be long-distance over the phone.

I just don’t know what to do anymore. My stepson hates me, and my husband blames me for it. I don’t have anybody to talk to, and I haven’t had sex in 5 months. If this goes on, I’m going to fall into a bottle, whether alcohol or pills I don’t know yet. Both are becoming more and more attractive to me.

March 18

Tom called yesterday, and we had another awful fight over the phone. He won’t be coming home for at least three more months, and I made the mistake of complaining about not having a husband at home, and of course, he accused me of being selfish. Instead of thinking of sex (he brought it up, not me), I should be thinking about his son and what to do to be a better mother for him. I tried to tell him that I would do whatever it took, but that SJ wouldn’t let me get close to him. Didn’t work, of course; according to Tom, it’s all my fault.

So, as expected, I started drinking. I told you I was going to fall into a bottle. This morning, instead of doing housework, I sat and watched some stupid TV show about people having more problems than me, and I had a few martinis. Large ones. By 11 o’clock in the morning, I was half drunk. Didn’t help, of course. I need someone to talk to.

April 5

I am drinking more often. SJ hasn’t changed his attitude at all, except now he noticed a few times that I had had a drink, and now he’s bitching at me for that, too. Says he’s going to tell his dad all about it. Just what I need. Why did I marry Tom again? Oh yeah, I loved him. I mean, I love him. I do love him, but what’s the point if he’s never here? The only thing I’m getting out of this marriage is money, lots and lots of money. I grew up poor, and now I have everything I ever wanted as a girl. And nobody to share it with.

April 27

I am pretty sure I did something really stupid.

Yesterday afternoon, one of Sanjay’s friends came around to visit him. SJ wasn’t here (it happens more and more often now that he doesn’t come home after school).

Carl, his friend, was very nice. He is the exact opposite of SJ: friendly, polite, good manners. When he found out that SJ wasn’t in, he apologized for bothering me and started to leave. I was feeling very lonely and bored in this big house, so I asked him if he wanted to wait for SJ. I told him he should be back any minute, even though I knew it could be hours until he came home. I just wanted someone to talk to.

I offered Carl some lemonade, and we went into the living room to wait for SJ. We made small talk about the weather and school, about other students SJ and Carl both knew and I had met around the house. Carl was a delight to have around. He was paying attention to me, he was polite, he listened, and he did not bitch at me once.

Then, I noticed that Carl was paying maybe a little too much attention to me.

During the last few months, I had stopped dressing up during the day. What was the point? I was always alone, so unless pinbahis yeni giriş I had to go out, I had taken to lounging around in old skirts and t-shirts. Due to my lazy lifestyle, I had gained a few pounds. I’m not fat, by any means, but I had filled out a bit, especially around my ass and my boobs, and so the skirts and the shirts were very tight on me. The skirts, fairly short to begin with, would ride up even higher than usual, and the t-shirts really showed off my boobs and my nipples.

And that was exactly where I saw Carl staring. His eyes became glued to my tits whenever he thought I wasn’t looking.

At first, I was a little shocked. I mean, there was this boy sitting in my living room, drinking lemonade, talking about teachers and his lack of progress in math, staring at my tits. But then, I began to feel flattered. After all, I was more than twice his age, and Carl was very good-looking. He could have probably had his choice of the girls at his school, but instead, he was staring at me.

When I noticed him looking at my legs, I felt the first butterflies stirring. I checked my skirt, and the way I was sitting, and I was pretty sure that Carl hadn’t been able to see anything other than my legs and thighs, but he was sure paying a lot of attention to my body.

This was probably wrong, but I decided to let him look. I thought it wouldn’t do him any harm, and it would make me feel good, so why not? What was the harm in letting him look at some leg, and some boobs under a t-shirt? Besides, my inhibitions had been lowered by the drinks I had had before Carl had come over.

Carl began to shift around uncomfortably on the couch, and I smiled inwardly. I was pretty sure he had a boner, and he was trying to hide it from me. It had been a mild spring day, and, like most kids, Carl was already walking around in shorts. I began to wish that he would stand up so I could get a better look at him.

After about an hour, Carl began saying that he should probably be going, since SJ might not come back anytime soon. I was feeling good; for the first time in months, I was having a conversation with somebody who I liked, and who obviously liked me.

I know it was wrong, but I didn’t want him to go.

So, I opened my legs and let him look up my skirt.

I know, I know, how could I? Thinking back, I must have been nuts, but at the time all I could think about was that I didn’t want him to go just yet. I didn’t want to be alone again. I didn’t want to be thinking about what to do with SJ, or about the next fight with my husband. I didn’t want to have another drink, either.

So, I opened my legs. Not blatantly, just a little bit, enough to let him look at my panties. Carl noticed the change in my position right away, and whipped his head around so fast, he should have gotten whiplash. I asked him if he was sure he had to go, and he stuttered that maybe he could wait just a little bit longer, and let himself fall back down onto the couch.

This time, I was sure that I could see his cock under his thin shorts, all hard and stiff.

Because of me!

I noticed my pussy getting a little moist. It had been so long, since she had gotten any attention, other than from myself. I really started to enjoy myself. I playfully opened and closed my legs a bit, just to draw attention to them, and in doing that I opened them a little more each time, so that after a few minutes, during which time Carl hardly said a word, my legs were open wide enough to give him an unobstructed view of my small, white lace panties.

I felt good! I felt powerful! Every time I took a deep breath, causing my t-shirt to tighten over my boobs, Carl’s head would bounce up. Every time I spread my legs a little farther, his eyes would jump back to my panties. I could tell him what to do, where to look, without words.

It made me feel so good, knowing that somebody wanted me. And I had Carl eating out of my hand. I excused myself to get a glass of water. In the kitchen, I made sure to pull my panties tighter against my pussy, causing them to bunch up and display more of my lips. When I came back with the water, I sat down and spilled a few drops on my boobs, making the shirt a bit see-through right over my left nipple, instantly attracting Carl’s attention.

Soon after, Carl again started making noises about leaving. I don’t think he was getting bored with the view, and I was carrying the main part of our conversation, so he couldn’t be running out of things to say either. Could it be that he just wanted to go home so he could start playing with his hard cock? I didn’t know, but I imagined that that was the exact reason for him wanting to leave.

Imagine that, an 18-year-old boy jerking off, thinking about my tits and my pussy. No, my panties, he hadn’t even seen my pussy yet.

Yet? The thought suddenly shot through my head. How could I even have such a thought? I desperately tried to forget it, but I could not, no matter how pinbahis giriş much I scolded myself for such a dirty thing to think of.

Before I could make up my mind, however, Carl had already gotten up from the couch and was standing, ready to leave. I could see his boner, and my pussy twitched a little. I could very clearly see that this boy was excited because he was looking at me, seeing my body, looking up my skirt, and I was suddenly very happy.

And no, I did not show him my pussy. But I did think about it, later that night, while I was lying naked on my bed, rubbing my clit. Oh yes, I was thinking very nasty thoughts that night.

April 29

Carl came back again! SJ was not home, only this time, I’m sure Carl knew he wouldn’t be home before he came over. When I explained that he had missed my stepson again, he asked if he could wait for him, and I was happy to let him.

After Carl’s last visit, I had changed my routine. Having found out that this boy found me attractive, I started taking better care of myself. I had not had a drink since Carl had left, and I had begun to dress better, to wear make-up around the house, to wear things I thought were a bit sexier than an old skirt and t-shirt.

Carl seemed to agree. His eyes never left my body while we stood in the hallway, and on the way to the living room, I was sure I could feel his eyes burning on my ass under my tight pencil skirt. While he was walking behind me, I sneakily opened one more button on my white blouse to allow him an even better look down my cleavage. I thought I was being very clever.

We sat in the living room again, talking. Well, I did most of the talking, while Carl did most of the looking. He stared at my boobs and my legs, and I was again able to see his dick getting hard under his shorts.

“Well, I guess SJ isn’t coming anytime soon, so maybe I better get going,” Carl said after only 20 minutes.

Oh no, not already. I thought about what I could do to get Carl to stay, and quickly realized I had made a mistake with the clothes I had chosen. The blouse, although giving him a nice view of my cleavage, was not as tight as the shirt had been, and with the long pencil skirt, I had no way of letting Carl get a look at my panties. Sure, my ass looked great in it, and it showed off my legs nicely, but that didn’t seem to be enough since he couldn’t see either one with me sitting on the couch. What to do? I had been going for ‘pretty and sophisticated’, while I should maybe have tried more for ‘sexy and slutty’.

I am ashamed to admit it, even to myself, but I definitely wanted Carl to stay, so I looked away from him, and while I asked him if he was sure he had to go already, I opened another button on my blouse, right in front of him.

Carl stared at me with big, round eyes. “No, I guess I can stay a little longer,” he said. I am sure I blushed when I looked at him and saw him staring at my cleavage. He now had a good view of the top third of my breasts, and he must have seen me open the button on purpose.

Strangely enough, the shame I felt at that moment, the embarrassment for being so daring and yes, slutty, made my pussy tingle even more. What must this boy be thinking of me? Was I still ‘Mrs. Sellers’ in his mind, or did he think of me now differently? I didn’t really know how, just that in his mind, something must have changed at that point.

I was nervous, anxious. I felt like I was on display. Up until now, I had been able to pretend to myself that what I had shown to this boy had been an accident, carelessness, even stupidity, but not anymore. I had just given this boy a better view of my tits, on purpose!

This time, it only took ten minutes. “Well, I better get going,” Carl said, making no attempt to get up. A slightly nervous smile played around his lips.

“No, please don’t go yet,” I begged, very quietly. Gathering all my courage, I opened another button on my blouse. My face was burning with shame, but my pussy was tingling with excitement.

“Okay, I can stay a bit,” Carl replied, now smiling broadly and staring openly at my tits, which were half hanging out of my blouse. Meanwhile, his cock had built a very large tent in his shorts, which he didn’t try to hide anymore.

After only five minutes, Carl repeated his earlier words. “I better get going, I guess.”

I felt very nervous. I took a deep breath, which almost made my tits jump out of my blouse. Shamefaced, I opened yet another button on my blouse. Now, there were only two buttons left, and my breasts were almost completely on display.

Carl rose from the couch. No, what was he doing? I had already opened a button. What was going on?

Then it hit me. The little shit knew exactly what I was doing. He knew I didn’t want him to go. And he was pushing me. One button was not enough anymore.

How far was I willing to go?

Carl was staring openly at my tits, while he ever so slowly continued to get up from the couch. I had pinbahis güvenilirmi to make a decision quickly. If I didn’t continue this game, he would leave. Worse, he might not come back again, and I would be back to being lonely and having nobody to talk to.

I didn’t want to admit to myself that there was more to it. Carl’s eyes on my boobs made my pussy tingle, and shivers of excitement crawled up and down my spine.

I wanted to show this boy more.

I wanted to be desired, to be lusted after.

I wanted to make the boy horny, so I could see his cock grow hard, could see the desire in his eyes, the greed, the passion.

I hadn’t felt like this for too long, and I didn’t want to give it up.

My face was burning as I slowly hiked up my skirt until my thighs were exposed, and the tops of my stockings became visible. My pussy twitched as I saw Carl’s tongue lick over his lips. His cock was sticking straight out against his shorts, and it looked as though they might split open at any time, allowing his dick to jump straight out at me.

And still, Carl did not sit down. I shook my head ever so slightly, pleading with my eyes for him to have mercy on me, but Carl just stared at me.

I gave in, again. I opened another button on my blouse. Only one button protected my boobs now from his leering stare.

‘Please, let this be enough,’ I thought.

Carl licked his lips again in a very suggestive way. “No, I think I really have to go now,” he said quietly.

My hands moved to the last button on my blouse almost on their own accord, without any conscious thought, and opened it. I pulled the blouse open and even lifted my skirt yet another little bit higher.

Finally, Carl sat down again, a knowing smile playing on his lips. What the fuck was I doing? I sat in my living room and showed my tits to this boy. Why the hell did I not wear a bra today? And my skirt? Two more inches and he would be able to see my panties. Two more inches and I would be able to spread my legs and really give him a show.

And why was this turning me on so much? My nipples were hard as rocks, standing out like little cocks, hard and swollen, and my pussy felt like she was on fire. I wanted so badly to run to the bathroom and touch myself, and at the same time, I wanted to stay right here and be looked at by Carl.

Yes, I finally admitted it: I wanted to be looked at. I liked it, and it made me feel good, and it made me horny as hell.

“May I have some lemonade?” Carl asked politely. Of all the things, the boy was asking for lemonade? I felt confused, but, being the hostess, I just said, “Of course,” and started to get up and at the same time button my blouse.

“No. Leave it open!”

I swallowed hard and thought harder. Was I sure I want to do this? Carl wanted me to walk around my house, go to the kitchen, open the fridge, get the lemonade, get a glass, pour it, put the lemonade away, and walk back to the living room, all with my tits hanging out?

It got worse. “And leave the skirt alone, too.”

Blushing, I got up and did as Carl had ordered. He followed me closely as I walked to the kitchen, no doubt staring at my legs from behind. When the cool air from the fridge hit my nipples, they became even harder, and my breasts became covered with goosebumps. Carl stood beside me, watching my every move. His tongue was hanging out again, he was panting like a dog. I poured the lemonade and went back to the fridge to put it back, and Carl moved behind me. My skirt had fallen down all the way, but it was thin enough, and Carl was close enough, for me to feel his hard-on pushing against my ass.

At that moment, the front door opened, and SJ hollered, “Carl, that you? You here? Where are you?”

Carl moved back, and I hastily buttoned my blouse and straightened my skirt. My face was still beet red as SJ stormed into the kitchen, his eyes flitting back and force between his friend, my face, and my still rock-hard nipples under my blouse.

“Hi, SJ, how was school?” I asked breathlessly.

My stepson looked at me with contempt. Then, with one final look at my tits, he turned to Carl and said, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Then they were gone, and I was alone again. I heard the front door slam shut, and with trembling fingers, I opened my blouse and hiked up my skirt. I almost ripped my panties off in the attempt to get to my wet pussy more quickly. I took two steps to the next kitchen chair and sat down in it. Then, pretending that Carl was still there, still looking at me, I masturbated, right there in the kitchen, where I had felt Carl’s cock against my ass.

April 30

I masturbated twice more last night, and again this morning. I was crazy with lust. I had never felt this way before. I remembered Carl’s eyes on my body, on my breasts, caressing me with his eyes, and my pussy started gushing, and my hands found their way up under my nightgown, or my skirt, and I rubbed myself to a furious, glorious orgasm, wantonly, shamelessly, my only regard for my own pleasure.

Well, not quite shamelessly. Actually, I felt a quite lot of shame, but that only intensified the pleasure I felt when I thought about how I had displayed myself for this horny teenager’s eyes.

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