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She hires a handy man to fix some things.
Let me help you back up to your room."
"My sister has had too much to drink," Joan retorted, not moving an inch. "I can hold my liquor a lot better than she can. I'm not so much tipsy as horny."
Having no idea what to say to that, Sean just held his tongue.
"And it doesn't help matters any that I'm sleeping just on the other side of the wall while my nephew, bless his own horny heart, has been pounding the hell out of that girlfriend of his for the better part of a half hour. Did you know that girl's a moaner? Thankfully my sister sleeps like a rock after she's had a few."
The confirmation that Tom and Whitney were doing exactly what he had imagined brought a renewed stirring in Sean's shorts. The erection that had been slowly diminishing quickly found new life.
"So now we're back to the question, can you do anything for me?" Joan said. "My sister told me the story about how that redheaded girl I saw out on the porch dumped you after having gone out with her all year. She said she didn't know why but unless you're a total asshole, and I don't think Susan would think so much of you if you were, the problem has to be with that girl. Both Susan and I think you're the cutest of Tom's friends, of course she's not supposed to say that about teenage boys who sleep over her house regularly, and from what I just saw, you're hardly lacking in what God gave you. So I have to guess she's the one with the problem, not you."
Despite how many times other people have said that to him over the last few weeks, this was the first time Sean considered the idea that it might be true.
"She said I didn't satisfy her," he found himself admitting, much to his surprise.
"With a cock like that?" Joan laughed softly. "If I had to guess, I'd say she just didn't know what to do with it."
Neither of them really had that much idea what they'd been doing, Sean admitted. Maybe it was both of their faults, not just his.
"But I most certainly do," Joan said as she extended a long index finger and ran it across the length of his cock, now straining against his briefs.
"What?" Sean said, started at her touch and not sure he heard correctly what she'd said.
Taking his lack of response for something else, Joan removed her hand.
"Am I too old for you, is that it?" she asked. "Or is it that you have a thing against black women?"
It wasn't that Joan was too old. How could she be, Sean would be forced to admit, when his most secret and discomforting fantasy had been to imagine the woman who had taken him in as an almost son in a sexual manner. What would Tom have though if he ever knew that his best friend had jerked off to the image of his mother naked. And as for black women in general, the thoughts he'd just had about Whitney easily dispelled that suggestion.
"No, I don't think you're too old," Sean said, keeping the rest of his answer to himself.
"Good," Joan smiled as she took her other hand and began to undo the buttons of the man's dress shirt she had worn to bed. "And I don't want to hear a word about you're not being able to satisfy me, you let me worry about that."
Part of Sean knew this was so very wrong, that he should get the hell out of there even if he had to walk all the way home. That part, the rational part, held little sway however as more and more of Joan's soft breasts became visible. By the time her dark, erect nipples came into view, so identical to those he had gotten brief glimpse of around the pool when Mrs. Richardson had worn her bathing suit, any hesitation had faded away.
"I bet you've taken a peek at my sister's boobs a time or two, haven't you?" Joan said, shocking Sean at how easily she was able to read him. "You really think she hasn't caught you looking? Trust me, she enjoyed having you look. It's just that she's not in a position to do anything about it, not even with that jerk she's married to away so much of the time. I on the other hand, don't have any such problem."
With that, she took hold of the back of his head and guided it towards her exposed left breast.