The summer that the kids were at camp and Ralph my husband was away at a symposium, I finally had the house to myself for a change, and my plan was to do as little as possible. I put on my most impossible string bikini, slathered myself with cocoa butter, and headed for the backyard with a trashy novel. A few birds chirped lazily in the heat. The only other thing to break the silence was the snip of hedging shears as our neighbor, Mr Raskin, worked his side of the bushes.
Now it was a bit wicked of me, but Mr Raskin has alway been a rather horny old trout, so I struck a bit of a provocative pose there on the chaise to tease him. I was surprised when a head appeared over the greenery, and it was not Mr Raskin. It was his 18-year-old daughter, Hilary, home from college.
“Oh, hello, dear,” I said, somewhat startled. “Please tell your mother that I’m almost done with her tennis-skirt pattern, and I’ll have it back to her in a day or so.”
“Mom and Dad are in the Poconos, Mrs Page,” Hilary said. “You can keep it a while.”
I thought for a moment. “Hilary,” I said, “you look thirsty. I’ll be glad to share this nice pitcher of fresh lemonade if you’ll just even up the hedges a bit on this side.”
Hilary paused in her clipping and considered. “Okay,” she decided.
Leaping the hedge at its lowest point, she landed neatly on my side. She halfheartedly snipped a few leaves, and edged in my direction. I filled up my glass and held it out to her invitingly. I posed, bending my knee and pointing the toes a little, to make the muscles flex.
“It’s so hot and sweaty,” I said. “I find that the easiest way to cool off is with a nice shower, don’t you?”
“Yes,” said Hilary.
“In fact I’m off to take one now, and I suggest you do the same, young lady.”
I sat up and stretched, letting my bikini top lift a little. Hilary seemed to blush and she quickly drained the glass and handed it back to me. I reached as though to take it, then hesitated.
“It’s a dry summer, isn’t it? I imagine the reservoirs are low,” I said. “Don’t take a long shower.”
“No,” said Hilary.
“I have an idea–follow me.”
I refilled her glass and led her straight to the upstairs bathroom. I turned on the water in the tub. I latched the door shut. The room filled with steam as I revealed my simple plan.
“One shower uses less water than two, wouldn’t you agree?” I said, reaching for her.
“I guess,” she said nervously.
Hilary wore shorts and a tank top. Her blonde hair spilled down over her smooth creamy freckled shoulders. I knew I would have to move quickly.
My finger hooked her strap and I pulled her into me. I bent slightly to put my lips on hers. She resisted at first, but I pressed my case.
“Oh, Mrs Page!”
“Mmm, just relax, honey.”
Soon my tongue was in her mouth. She moaned as our tongues swirled against each other. Her breath was coming fast, and I could feel her heart beating. She tasted salty as I ran my lips and tongue down her pretty throat. My free hand gently cupped her pubis and began to massage.
“Ohh, God,” she breathed. “This isn’t right…”
Her lids fluttered as I pressed my fingers into her slit. She jumped slightly, but she did not stop me. We continued this way for a while when I decided for a change. Withdrawing, I sat myself down on the toilet seat and turned off the hot water. Then I took the girl by the hand and pulled her to me. Her mouth was smeared with my lipstick.
“I’d like you to wash me off first, dear.”
She didn’t understand at first. As I slowly applied pressure down on her arm, she slowly sank to her knees before me. Smiling, I pulled aside my bikini bottom to reveal my pussy.
“There it is, dear. I think you know what to do.”
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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/mkpaff/young_coed_learns_the_lesbian_ropes_from_a_milf