During the second year of college, I went over to my friends’ place about 10:00 am to make our noon tee time, plenty of time to smoke a joint, make the drive over to the course and hit some range balls. He still lived with his mom in a separated garage. You couldn’t get to his place from inside his moms’ house, but they were attached.
No answer at the door, I went in anyways, figuring he was still asleep. I walked around the place but he wasn’t there. With two hours to kill I broke out one of my doobies, lit it up and turned on some music.
After a couple of tokes from the joint, I froze when I saw his mom in the doorway, with a fresh lungful, I exhaled and said “Oh-my God”….. She smirked as she said “Greg called me and wanted me to tell you to meet him at the course, he is stuck in traffic.”
The stuttered; “I am sorry Ms. Dopler, I didn’t think, I mean.. I don’t want you to think….. that I”. I couldn’t get a sentence out; I was petrified.
She smiled and shook her head, “Look at you, dressed so nice with your golf shirt, your nice shorts, your fancy belt and a joint in your hand… what a “DOCKERS” commercial you would make.” She smiled and chuckled. Ms. Dopler wasn’t extremely attractive, but compared to all of my other friends’ parents she was very cute. She went through an ugly divorce five years earlier and still wore the stress on her face, but remained to keep her figure. Greg would mention sometimes that she “got lucky”, but never considered remarriage after the divorce.
Shaking her head and still smiling she simply reached for the joint and took a hit of off it, I could tell it wasn’t her first. I still apologized about the whole thing but she said not to worry about it and knew Greg and I were responsible enough not to do anything stupid like cocaine or something. I babbled something about that we only smoke it before we play golf, or on certain social occasions.
We passed the joint back and forth for a sec, she sighed with a smile and said; “You want to get something to drink before you go, if you have time?”
I told her our tee time wasn’t for a couple of hours, and I could use something to get rid of the “cotton-mouth”. She giggled a little and started out.
When we got to her place, across the driveway, I followed her into the kitchen and put my stuff down; sunglasses, phone, wallet, and the half of that joint. “O man, I didn’t mean to bring this” I mumbled… she replied, “Its no big deal, I am glad you brought it over.”
I thought it was cool that she wanted to bond with me and wasn’t freaking out about the weed. I had known Greg for years, since we were kids; I helped him when he was pissed about his parents’ divorce. My parents split up when I was young so I could relate and offer some help, basically a good drinking buddy that still lived in town.
She made some pops for us and I followed her into the family room. The TV was on as we sat on the couch. We made some small talk about the past and she asked about my parents. Nothing to strange was going on until there was an uncomfortable silence in the room. She grabbed the remote and shut off the television.
“I want you to know how important you have been to Greg and I, I have never thanked you for being there for him; playing sports with him, helping him with girls, all the stuff I couldn’t do when I wasn’t there and his father wasn’t there at all” she said while smiling and almost tearing up at the same time.
“It has been my pleasure, but don’t thank me.” I tried to speak in a cool, calming voice. She could tell I wasn’t ready to see her cry.
“Don’t think I am weird or anything, it’s just, watching you two grow up, you are both 20 now, probably moving away soon, has been the only thing in my life that makes me happy.” Her eyes were completely watered up now.
The only thing I could think of was to give her a hug so she could let the tears fall and I wouldn’t actually see the tears. I leaned forward smiling and spoke softly to her, as is she were a child, “Hey, its ok”. She squeezed me very tight; I could now recognize that her body was very firm and shapely, her chest felt huge.
Holding her was the right move, she held me for a while and I could feel the tears falling on my shoulder blade.
As we held each other, I don’t know if was the emotion of the moment or the way she was holding me, but I got an enormous erection. I had jerked off that morning, but something about how vulnerable she was at that time got the primal juices going.
She slowly let go of me and said; “Again, you are there for me” she sniffed, “Why don’t you get the rest of that joint, we can listen to some music.”
She wanted me to leave the room to clean up her face, but I couldn’t get up with the rocket in my pants.
Feeling worse for her than me with my problem, I stood up to leave exactly when she leaned behind me to get the Kleenex, my boner almost slapped her in the chin as we almost collided. I did the ol’ “tuck and push it up” move directly in front of her face and left to the kitchen.
I heard her giggling as I went to the kitchen. What was I going to do when I went back into the family room? There was no way my boner was going away by the time I got back. So I lit up the joint as I walked in, hopefully to distract her with it when I returned.
I handed it to her after I toked on it; she was smiling ear to ear now. I was blushing as I sat down. “I am sorry I am smiling,” she said “but you could always get me or Greg to smile when we were depressed, but that was the greatest technique so far.”
We burst into laughter, buzzed from the joint and relieved some of the tension was released from the room.
We smoked a little more as we reminisced about the past and laughed about how much trouble Greg and I got into when we were little. Once the joint was out we were clearly buzzed and she started making comments about the “golf club in my pants” and asking how was I going to line-up my putts with my “woody”.
“It will go away once I get away from you”, I said not knowing what it would provoke.
“You mean that?”
“Of course,”… I was trying to be charming but was starting to get a little uneasy.
“Hmmmmm”..she said while smiling at me. She stood up and walked in her bedroom, reached into the bathroom and came back on the couch with a bottle of hand lotion. “I don’t have any baby-oil, so this will have to do.” I was speechless with confusion.
“Look, this is too good of a situation for us to waste, you are excited, it would be for me fun to jerk you off, I am too old to go through the verbal bullshitting and we are both a little buzzed so let me do this. I bet you like it.” She said while standing in front of the space next to me on the couch. I thought she wanted us to burst into laughter again, but she looked at me with a serious, raised-eyebrow face and I could tell she was very matter of fact about the situation.
“Are you sure?” I squeaked out.
“Hell yes, its just a handjob, I haven’t given one in a long time, and who better to than a young, handsome man from a “DOCKERS” commercial.”
We both laughed out loud again. I was now sweating, but trying to remain somewhat in control and cool.
“If you feel OK about it, you should just take off your pants and sit on the couch with one foot on the floor and the other one down the couch and I will sit in between you legs.” She was smiling the whole time, talking slow and constant from the effects of the joint.
It was a golden opportunity. I stood up and took off my pants and sat in the position how she had instructed me to. As I watched her pop the top of the lotion my heart began pounding my chest.
“Are you going to be ok with this?” SHE was now asking as she sat down in between my legs.
“Hell yeah…. its j-just a handjob”. I tried to say it cool, but it came out like a nervous 12 – year old boy at a spelling bee.
“That’s the spirit”.. She said as she chuckled and shook her head at my response. She squirted some lotion into her left hand.
“Wow, you are a healthy young man, look at this” she grabbed my shaft with her right “nice” she said… she slowly moved her left hand over me and poured the lotion down my shaft. The lotion was cool as it crept down, she slowly started pumping and rubbing it all over me “you feel great” she said.
My eyes were bugging out of my head and I was panting like a puppy. “Take a deep breath buddy”, she said calmly (stoned), “just try to relax.” I tried my best to breathe deep. She had a great smile when she was talking to me.
She was slowly and firmly pumping me with her right hand and massaging and cupping my balls with her left. She tried to keep a small conversation, perhaps so I wouldn’t explode to soon, “I used to prefer to give handjobs with baby-oil, but lotion is good, have you had one recently, had a girl jerk you off?”
Watching her smiling and stroke me while talking so calmly was an experience I never had before. I was dizzy and giddy as I tried to explain that a few months earlier a girl stroked me off in a movie theater. I would stutter or leave words out of sentences when she touched me just right or tickled my balls. She talked a little how she gave one in her car about 2 years ago and how good it felt.
“Just relax now, I want to try some of my old moves.” She said as she unscrewed the cap off of the bottle and poured a fistful into her hand. I would have exploded just at the site of that much lotion had I not “rubbed one out” that morning, who would have known.
She evened out the amount of lotion into her hands and placed them on both sides of my shaft, she slowly massaged it over my shaft and started a feverous technique of rubbing her hands around my shaft, the only way I know how to describe it is; if she was trying to keep her hands warm by rubbing them together and my shaft was between her hands. The sensation was body numbing as she continued to speed up so fast that her hands were a blur of flesh along with the unmistakable sound of lotion slopping around a shaft, I started to push my hips up. She slowed down, smiling while staring at me, “Whaddya’ think about that, Sport?”
I couldn’t say anything; I could only nod in approval while trying to catch my breath and maintain consciousness.
She was clearly in a state of stoned euphoria as she went back to the straight pumping and squeezing me. “Mmmmmmmm, I got you now, I love having this much control of men”, stroking me slowly, “I think every woman should have this feeling of power once a day.” She was grinning very sexy as she was talking.
She kept a constant pace now, rhythmically, pumping and cupping my balls. She was working the whole shaft with both hands when she looked at me and winked “Here we go sugar, hang on, this one is my favorite. Let’s see how you do.”
She started a tempo of milking or stroking just the top quarter of my cock with her hand four times very quickly and then stroke the whole shaft twice extremely slow while cupping and rolling my balls with her other hand. Looking at her face I could tell she was counting the rhythm in her head; one-two-three-four, …..fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive, ……….siiiiiiiiiiiix, one-two-three-four, …..fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive, ……….siiiiiiiiiiiix.” The lotion was making a squishing/clicking sound during the quick, four, short strokes. I would start to crunch up, and then try to catch my breath during the two long strokes. The two long slow strokes took about three seconds each; her tongue would poke out of the side of her smile a little during the two slow long stokes.
The technique was paralyzing, the consistency of her pace and her concentration made me realize that she wasn’t going stop, I was completely in her control. After eight or ten sets of the teasing technique, I couldn’t resist any longer and involuntary started pumping my hips. She immediately switched to an all out speed/turbo fist stroke with her right hand while gently tickling my balls with her left. She was loving it, “Yeah baby, yeah, go baby….” As I was about to cum, I arched my back and felt she had leaned over to finish me under her shirt between her tits; it was all I could do not to faint. The lotion, her hands, her breasts, her smile… I grabbed the nearest throw pillow and pressed it on my face, moaning into it and biting at it as I erupted in a fury of emotional, physical and spiritual bliss. I came so much I was embarrassed; I flexed eight times in a matter of seconds.
“Ooooo, yeah, yeah, you did it, you did it!” she said as she was still furiously jerking me in between her chest under her shirt. I took the pillow off of my face and looked at her smiling at me, I could only hear the slopping under her shirt, I wasn’t sure if I was still cuming or not. But the feeling was eternal.
“Yeah… you did great pal, yeah” she was slowly stroking me and massaging my balls and leaned back so I could see the action again, nice and slow now, she knew that I was completely spent.
“That was great, I hope this doesn’t change anything between us”. She said.
I was almost drunk with emotion from the ride, all I could mumble out was “H-h-h…hell yeah, its just a handjob.” We sat there for a while so I could regain some composure; she never stopped stroking and cupping.
She eventually grabbed the Kleenex and cleaned us off, though most of it was up her shirt. “Thanks for today, I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but you WILL keep this quiet, OK?”
“Of course”, I said as I fumbled for my pants.
“I am serious, I needed today, so please don’t let this encounter slip out to anyone, OK. You never know, I may need this again someday”. She said as she hugged me and walked me to the door.
“I promise” I replied.
I drove to the golf course with a permanent smile. “Once a day?” I thought.
I never mentioned it to Greg, or anyone, and played a great round of golf that day. Thanks to a great “massage” from his mom before the round.