Mum was running around, frantically tidying the kitchen before she and my Dad went away for the night.
“Michael, have you seen my keys?” she screamed at me from the kitchen. Her shrill shouty voice always annoyed me.
“Are they in your handbag?” I asked, sat on the sofa trying to find something decent to watch on TV.
“I don’t know where my handbag is!” she replied.
Shock horror, I thought.
My Dad walked in, calm as a cucumber. He was always the level-headed one.
“Michael, while we’re away tonight, please refrain from burning the house down or having an alcohol fuelled teenage house party.”
Father, while you’re away please remove that stick from up your butt.
“Dad, I’m 19. And I’ve been at university for a year. I’m an adult. I’m not stupid.”
My Dad smirked.
“Oh sure. Just like the other day when you couldn’t figure out how to switch the washing machine on.”
I grimaced and bit my tongue. Unfortunately, that was a true story. In my defence, the washing machine has too many buttons on it if you ask me.
“Oh, by the way, Tony just rang and asked if he can stop over tonight,” said my Dad, pulling the suitcase into the hall.
My heart stopped for a second and I coughed.
To explain, Tony is my Dad’s best friend from school. He lives on the other side of the country, so we don’t see him much. He’s also crazy hot.
“Yeah. He was in London for a conference and asked if he can stop the night here to break up the journey. He lives all the way in Scotland remember, so it’s a long way to drive,” my Dad continued.
I couldn’t believe Tony was coming. I’ve had a massive crush on him for years. At 45, Tony was 27 years older than me. I’d never been into older guys per se, but Tony was an exception. He was gorgeous. Chiselled good looks and sharp cheekbones, balding with some silver hair but he owned it. He’s also an outdoor sports enthusiast, so he has a really fit body. He was just perfection.
“Oh right,” I said casually, trying not to let my excitement show. My parents had no idea I fancied the hell out of him.
My Dad walked back in the living room.
“Will you show Tony in when he arrives please?”
I’ll show him everything.
“Yeah sure,” I replied.
I hopped up from the sofa and helped my Mum look for the keys. I wanted them out of the house, so I could start making myself look good for when Tony got here.
“Mum. I found your handbag, and your keys are inside.”
I’d found the handbag where it usually was; by the wine rack. My Mum is a creature/ alcoholic of habit.
“Thanks darling,” she said, snatching the handbag and kissing me.
I pulled away and wiped my cheek.
“Oh, don’t be silly, Michael. You never like anyone kissing you.”
Tony can kiss me anywhere he likes. Although I’d prefer he kiss me on my other cheeks.
“I don’t want your lipstick all over me,” I said, trying to wipe the greasy red stain off me.
My Mum tutted and made her way out to the hall. She and my Dad loaded the car with the suitcase and got inside.
“Tony just text me to say he’ll call when he’s on his way,” said my Dad out of the window.
My Mum lowered her window.
“And give him our best.”
I hope he’ll give me his best too.
“Oh course. Have a nice time,” I replied, smiling sweetly. I waited until they drove away and I made like Usain Bolt and sprinted back in the house.
I ran into my rooms and got undressed, before grabbing a towel and heading to the shower. I got in the shower and let the warm water flow all down me. I ran my hands all over my body, imagining it was Tony. I bet he was an experienced man and therefore great with his hands. I fantasised about his touch, his large hands running down my smooth chest. His stubble rubbing against me as he kissed my lips and making his down to my neck.
I could feel I was starting to get a semi, and precum was leaking from my dick. I finished washing myself off and tried to distract myself from thinking about Tony. As I got out of the shower, I looked at myself in the mirror. I ran my hands through my hair, now a blonde wet tangle. I looked at my body. I flexed my arms and studied them from a few different angles. They were a little pathetic but could be worse. I’ve been on the swim team for a few years, so I was relatively fit. My chest wasn’t defined though, which annoyed me.
I bet Tony had abs you could grate cheese off.
My excuse was that I was going for the ‘boy next door twink look’.
I had a pretty decent sized cock, but nothing to write home about. I turned around and looked at my ass. It was pretty bouncy and was totally smooth, something I hoped would make up for the rest of my boyish body.
“What are you doing you idiot,” I said to myself, as I was studying my reflection.
“He’s a married man. A straight married man.”
Why was I getting so excited about this? He’s been married to wife for over 15 years. And he’d never given any indication that he was attracted to me. The last time I saw him in fact was at my Dad’s birthday a few years ago, and he had barely given me a second look.
I wonder if he knows I’ve jerked off thinking about him?
Most guys my age would think about hot supermodels or porn stars. All I thought about was my Dad’s bald middle-aged friend.
Fuck my life, what am I doing?
I wrapped the towel around me and walked through to my room. As I was drying off, the house phone rang. I threw on some underwear and walked down the stairs and answered it.
***End of sample. Go to https://linktr.ee/jennygoodnight and find the full story and others on Amazon***
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