My GF's Mom used me as her private IRL porn. [MF]

In my early 20's I was working in a office in a major city's downtown area while living in the suburbs. My commute to/from work often ended up being 1 to 1.5 hours each way, it sucked. At the time I was dating a chick that was still away at college in another city, but her parents lived near me and they had just bought a townhouse in the downtown area. The parents didn't live full time at the townhouse, but used it off and on depending on their work schedules and office locations (they worked out of several different offices). My GF's mom suggested I just move there so I wouldn't have the long commute.

The first week I planned to stay at the townhouse happened to be during my GF's spring break so she was in town too. Both her father and mother were staying at the townhouse that week so it was going to be the 4 of us there which made me a little bit unsure of where I was supposed to sleep- there was 2 real bedrooms as well as a small 'day bed' kind of room, I wasn't sure if I should sleep there to keep it from being 'disrespectful' that I'm sharing a bed with the daughter. However the parents made it clear really fast that it was perfectly expected for me to share the room with their daughter.

The first week went really smoothly with all of us getting along well and me getting mostly comfortable being there, but there were still a few things that I found a little awkward. For instance the walls in the place were paper thin, and we could definitely here the parents fucking (they didn't even attempt to be quiet), my GF just laughed about it and would yell out things like 'oh my god Mom! That's gross! Shut up!', but it definitely made me aware that they could here us fucking as well so I definitely tried to keep the noise down. Another minor issue was 'our' room didn't have a private bathroom, you had to walk across the corner of the living area to get to our bathroom. Not a big deal except I sleep in just underwear so any late night/early morning trips might mean a partly dressed encounter with the GFs parents.

Anyways, the first week went well, then the GF and I had the place to ourselves for the weekend, then she went back to school. I think I had the place all to myself Monday and Tuesday before the GF's mom, "Cindy", came back to the townhouse for work on Wednesday. This is where it gets interesting...

I woke up Wednesday morning a little late and realized I needed to hurry- in my rush to head to the bathroom I completely spaced out that the mom was there. I walked out of bedroom in my boxers...with morningwood. Cindy (the mom) was sitting at the little kitchen bar having coffee, and looked up the second I barged out of the room. Our eyes locked, both a little suprised, then her eyes dropped for a good 2 seconds before her eyes roamed back up with a deliberate ease to meet my eyes. "Good morning."

I turned sideways attempt to conceal the un-concealable and stammered something like "I, uh, forgot that you-- I'm late I just needed to...I was heading to--"

"Honey don't be apologetic on account of me; it's your place too and you're running late; get a move on it and I'll make you a bagel."

The causal dismissal in her voice didn't at all match the look she had given me, but I was relieved that she wasn't making a big deal out of it. I hurried off to the bathroom and got ready for work. When I came out of the bathroom, there was a bagel and a cup of coffee on the counter and she was gone. I thought to myself, "well, that's a relief, I guess we're cool, I'm basically her son."

The next morning I remember the previous encounter and dressed before I left the room. She was sitting there having coffee, barely glanced up and said "Good morning." The morning after that was much the same. Then her husband was there for a day or two and she wasn't seated there having coffee in the morning. It was my 7th or 8th work day there when I had already gone to the bathroom and stripped to shower that I realized I had left my towel in the bedroom the previous day. Being in a bit of a hurry I just threw on boxers and walked out to grab a towel from my room. To my surprise, Cindy was directly outside the bathroom door when I opened it and I basically ran into her. I got a suprised "Oh!... Good morning", with a full body eye scan and a raised eyebrow. "Sorry!", and I hurried off for the towel.

The next morning it was just Cindy and I staying at the townhouse again and I was fully dressed when I came out of the bedroom. She was there with her coffee and glanced up, "Good morning...so, no show this morning?"

Feeling a little caught off guard I responded with a half apology, half explanation, "Uh, yeah, I had forgotten my towel." And continued my walk over to the bathroom.

The next morning I walked clothed to the bathroom and begun to undress when I noticed there wasn't a towel in the bathroom. I thought, "Damn it. What the heck, I didn't forget it in the bedroom...maybe Cindy did laundry?" Slipping my shirt back on I came out of the bathroom to look for the missing towel. Cindy was sitting there, blatantly watching, as I found the towel sitting on an Ottoman and walked over to pick it up. She set her magazine down, "Well this is some bullshit."

Not sure if she was talking to me or just venting about something she had read, I didn't respond and just gave her an inquisitive look. "So look, if I'm going to bother to get out of bed early on my days off AND go through the trouble of stealing your towel, the least you could do is come hunt it down in something exciting."

I was stunned, I didn't know what to say. "UHhh, what- what exactly is exciting?" I was genuinely confused as to what she was referring to.

She stood up, grabbing her coffee, turned to walk to her bedroom, stopped, half turned towards me and said in an almost scolding voice, "I'd say boxers. At most." Walked into her room and closed the door.

The next morning Cindy was at her 'station', no magazine, simply sitting there cross-legged turned towards the bathroom door like a person waiting to meet up with a friend at a park bench. "Good morning." "Good morning", her eyes followed me as I walked across the room. Before I ever made it to the bathroom I spotted my towel thrown in a heap on the coffee table. I looked at the towel, then at Cindy; she feigned taking sip of coffee to conceal her smile. I looked back at the towel with a mix of excitement and horror and continued into the bathroom and closed the door.

I stood there for a good 15 seconds, with my heart pumping so hard I could hear it in my ears and no coherent thought making it all the way through my mind. "Is she messing with me?", "is her husband going to kick my ass?" "How far is too far?" "Would it be rude to just ignore her?" At some point I thought, "this is HER place, I'm here for free....do I owe her this?" But I never even finished that thought. Then, like a cheap computer just giving up when too many apps are running, I just stopped thinking.

I walked out in my boxers, too embarrassed or scared to even make eye contact- I just stared at the towel and walked straight to it.

She put down her coffee cup and silently watched me. I grabbed the towel, glanced up for the first time and saw her slightly smiling a warm, kind smile. "See, that wasn't so hard was it?....Have a great day at work." And with that, she stood and walked off to her bedroom without another word.

I spend a the next couple days alone, then she was there with her husband for a few days and she wasn't 'on station' in the mornings. Then her husband left again for an overseas trip.

The week or so I had to process what happened really changed my outlook on the situation- it wasn't scary or embarrassing to me anymore. In fact, it turned me on "holy shit, my GFs mom is eye fucking me." I actually looked forward to her being alone again. Finally, our first morning alone together I took the initiative and strolled out in my boxers. She was sitting there as expected, "Good morning." I gazed around the room half expecting to find my towel laying somewhere....no towel laying out. Glancing at her she looked away and stared at the TV. I walked to the bathroom and closed the door. "Did I just fuck up?...is that not what she wanted?" I was still standing there in my boxers attempting to process what just happened when the bathroom door opened. Looking past me she said, "Are you going to use that same nasty towel all month or you going to let me wash it.....and if I'm doing a load of laundry I might as well do the rest of your clothes too." I stood with my back pressed against the wall, speechless. She snatched the towel off the rack and stood looking at me. "Well?"

I stammered "Uh, well what?"

"I can't do your laundry if you're standing in them." And she held out her hand inches from my body.

I didn't even have time to think, I just dropped my boxers and stepped out of them. Any complaint about being barged in on, being told to strip, or objecting that both the towel and my boxers were clean just never materialized- it was like drill sargeant ordering me. She dipped down, snatched up my boxers and said "thanks"....and was gone.

I stood there for a minute, complete dumbfounded for the 19th time. "Holy shit, I completely do not get this lady. WTF is she doing? Is this power thing?" A minute or two went by before my head stopped swimming. "Damn it....I still need a towel." Then, almost a mad thought flashed through my head- "No, this is fucked, I'm not going to get pulled around like this, I'm taking charge." It wasn't really anger at being naked or being exploited, more like frustration from feeling like she was 2-3 steps ahead of me at every turn. "Fuck this, it's my move now." I walked out of the bathroom completely naked, crossed the living room to the closet just out side the master bedroom door (where the spare towels and sheets were stored) and grabbed a new towel. As I turned I could see directly into her bedroom through the open door. She was laying across a love seat with her feet propped up on the arm rest staring at the ceiling, her baggy PJs legs were bunched up around her knees, exposing her lower legs. I stood there staring at her and as I did I started feeling myself get hard. She quietly watched my dick get hard, then stared back at my face. After a few seconds she went back to staring at the ceiling, and finally said "I'm not going to fuck you, so you might as well just get over that idea right now."

"So what exactly do you want from me?"

"Oh, I'm not really sure. But I definitely know there's no need for you to sneak around in boxers anymore, and while you're at it I guess it wouldn't hurt for you to leave your door open when your jacking off at night."

She said it was such certain- it wasn't "if your jacking off" it was said with the certainty of someone that absolutely knew. My face must have betrayed my shock because she looked back at me and laughed. "Better get your shower in."

I went back to the bathroom, still hard, still confused, and STILL a little mad that she still had the upper hand, I just felt 'out played' at every move. I stood in the shower with a complete cloud of confusion...and started masturbating.

I wasn't a minute into 'handling my business' before the door opened and Cindy stepped into the bathroom. The shower had a clear glass door so there was no hiding what was I had been doing if I had tried too. I stood there, cock in hand, looking at her. She said, "ah, now that's better, don't stop on account of me." And leaned back against the vanity, no smile, no talking. I stroked another minute or so until I finished. She said, "K, thanks." And walked out.

After work that day I stayed up late to talk to her (she was rarely around in the evenings, coming home late). "Cindy, don't you think we should talk about....whatever this is?"

"Why?"

"Uh, you've basically forced me to strip and watched me masturbate...I have a girlfriend, and you're married, and I'm in your hou-"

"Don't make this something it's not. It's not complicated. I didn't ask you to be naked in front of me, and you're an adult. If you're not comfortable doing something don't do it. That's pretty simple isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah I guess...but you-"

"If I had invited you into my bedroom this morning you would have come in."

"Yeeeahh, I guess I would have."

"Yeah, so don't get on any high horse about husbands and girlfriends. I'm the one that set that boundary. If you're OK with walking around naked in front of me, and jacking off in front of me, that's your choice, no one elses."

"You walked into the bathroom on me..."

"And?"

"I'm just really confused what you want from me."

"That's a pointless worry, wear what you want to wear, do what you want to do."

"But what if I wanted to 'do' you?"

"I already told you that's not going to happen, nothing is going to change that."

At this point I just stood up, "OK well, uh, I guess I'll head to bed."

She snipped back, "Yep, good night." With no more concern or compassion in her voice than clerk saying bye to a random customer.

The next morning feeling somewhat angry and confused at her causal dismissal of my concerns, and the preemptive shooting down of any sexual advances on my part, I 'protested' by wearing a pair of jeans, but no shirt, on my way to the bathroom. When I walked out of the bedroom she was sitting at the breakfast table as usual but in a night gown, not PJs like every other morning. It was a very low-cut nightgown, that clung to her breasts and it was only about knee length. It wasn't lingerie by any means, it was a fairly basic nightgown, but much more reviling than her standard baggy morning wear. She turned towards me, and her eyes followed me, but she didn't say a word, no good morning, not even a smile.

I said "good morning" and walked on. She gave me a lukewarm smile of acknowledgement, but nothing more.

About 3 minutes into my shower she walked in. I was soaping up, and definitely not hard. "So. No show this morning?"

Still feeling somewhat sulky and emotionally beat down I responded, "I guess not."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"I don't know Cindy. I just don't know. Just- do what you want."

"So I'll stay." And with that she leaned back again the vanity.

I went back to showering, more or less ignoring her.

After a few minutes, while I was shampooing my hair, she knocked on the glass. I brushed the soap from my eyes, "uh? What?"

"Make it hard for me again."

Feeling kind of exasperated, and somewhat like an exhibit in a zoo, and sexually frustrated, I sighed and and said. "Really Cindy? I don't just work on demand."

"Yes you do....watch." As she said this she backed up towards the vanity again and effortlessly hiked one leg up on the counter top giving me a full view of her pussy with a faint and freshly groomed landing-strip.

My eyes about popped out of my head. "Jesus Christ Cindy."

"See? You do work on demand. Now, what about my show?"

I stood there stroking it while she half sat on the vanity with her leg hiked up. As I jacked off she caressed her breast with her hand and occasionally slid a finger over her pussy, but not really masturbating.

At some point I stopped, and shut off the shower and went to open the shower door.

"Why'd you stop? Stay in there."

"Come on, you're killing me, just stroke it for me...let me eat you out."

"No. Stay in the shower. Thats not going to happen."

At this point I started losing my erection, "God damn it Cindy, this is fucked up how you toy with me."

She abruptly dropped her leg off the counter, and pulled her night gown down. "Don't be such a wreck about this- and fuck you for accusing me of toying with you. I made it clear that you're not going to fuck me. I said that in as blunt of language as exists. You're not going to touch me, you're not going to fuck me, and I'm not doing anything to you. I don't owe you shit. Why can't you just be mature about this? You get something to watch, I get something to watch. If you can't deal with it then just fucking say so."

I stood there for a minute, hair dripping with a flaccid dick, "So what? We're just going to watch each other masturbate? I mean, if we're this far why can't we-"

"DON'T FUCKING ASK AGAIN."

I tried to calm her, "ok, OK, sorry....um, so...I guess, do you want me to finish?"

"Do whatever, you ruined it." And she walked out.

I was pissed, over the course of the next few weeks I barely spoke to her other than keeping up cordial conversations when her husband was around. And I started wearing clothes to the bathroom and locking the door. She was there at her 'morning station' sometimes but there was no towel shenanigans and no comments.

But our encounters had a really powerful affect on me, I couldn't stop fantasizing about her, especially in the shower. After about 3 weeks I really regretted my bitterness and wished I had handled it differently, so I started wearing just boxers to the bathroom again and leaving the door open.

After about the 3rd day she came over to the bathroom while I was toweling off and stood there and watched me. "Your tan is going away."

"Yeah, a little bit."

"You looked really nice with dark tan lines....you still look nice, but... yeah, anyways. Good morning."

I laugh, "yeah, good morning." I didn't immediately wrap the towel around me, or get dressed, I just kind of did the rest of my morning stuff like shaving, with her standing in the door way for a bit, then retreating to her coffee spot.

I walked back to the bedroom still naked, and somewhat hard, and she watched me cross the room. I had just begun to dress when she appeared in my door way. "Will you play with it for me again?", she asked quietly, not in a shy manner, but definitely more of a question than a command.

"Yeah, I can." And started undressing again.

She pulled off her top, exposing her tits, and said "something to motivate you."

She stood there fondling herself for a minute while I jerked off. Then she walked past me the bed, dropped her PJs and underwear off of one leg, sat on the bed with her knees tucked up against her.

We didn't say a word. I watched and jerked, she sat there and tapped her fingers up and down the length of her pussy, stopping on occasion to rub her clit.

After about 3 minutes I felt myself getting close and grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and finished. She laid back, asked me to move around to the side of the bed where she could still see me while laying down and ask me to keep stroking it.

After another few minutes she started breathing hard, clinched her eyes closed and then held her breath for a minute. Then sighed deeply and stretched.

"You good?" I asked her, still holding my dick.

"Yeah, thank you. Thanks, I think we needed that."

From that point on, about 3 times a week (when she was around), she'd ask me to masturbate in front of her, or she'd masturbate with me. Sometimes in my bedroom, sometimes in the bathroom, but never in her room.

This went on for about 7 months without any change- though it really wasn't that many times because it wasn't every week she was there, or there alone.

However, after that, her daughter had finished college and she moved back to the city so we got an apartment together. We broke up about a year later.

I saw Cindy a few years later at a wedding. She was perfectly nice to me, but distant. At some point in our conversation with other people present she said, "I do miss you living with us, it was nice having you around and kept things interesting."

"I liked living there too."

She didn't betray anything more than a polite smile. "Well I do wish things had worked out with you and our daughter, but I guess that's how it goes. Well it was good seeing you." And with that basically dismissed me from her conversation.

To this day, I can't strip for a shower without hoping the door will get pushed open with her standing there, but I guess it's just a memory for the books now.