CAN’T BELIEVE I FUCKED MY SON’S BEST FRIEND – PT 1

It was past midnight when I heard the doorbell ring. Since I had just showered, I was lounging on the sofa watching a movie, wearing a short, cotton kimono-style robe with nothing underneath. My husband was out of town on business until the following weekend, and I wasn’t expecting my son home from the party he’d gone to with his friends until much later…..probably long after I’d gone to bed.

But the doorbell was insistent, so I tied the sash around my waist and hurried to find out if I had a problem that needed my attention. When I opened the door, I saw my son’s best friend, Troy, almost carrying my son, Dale, who was clearly inebriated.

“What the fuck, Troy?” I exclaimed, as I reached under one of my son’s arms to help Troy maneuver his limp body inside. Once we got him in the door, we gently flopped him down on the bottom step of the staircase directly in front of the door.

“Sorry, Mrs. B”, Troy said with a puppy dog look on his face. “Dale really got into it tonight. Definitely drank too much….thought he was gonna puke outside John’s house, where the party was, but he didn’t. I figured I should get him home.”

“Shit…..well, thanks, Troy,” I said, throwing an arm over his broad shoulder and giving him a quick hug. I didn’t really give any thought to what I was wearing….or not wearing….and out of the corner of my eye, I caught an appreciative smile crack the corners of Troy’s lips.

“Do you want me to help you get him upstairs?” Troy asked.

“Sure. Thanks, Troy…that’d be extremely helpful,” I said, with a smile. My son was a linebacker on his high school football team, and there was no way I was getting his drunk ass upstairs by myself. Fortunately, Troy was one of Dale’s teammates, and his muscles would be desperately needed to get Troy up to his bedroom.

The two of us bent to our task, each of us reaching under one of Dale’s arms, and began dragging his butt up the stairs. About half way up, the sash at my waist came loose, and my robe started cracking open, leaving my heavy, 36DD tits to start swaying, occasionally slipping out of the space created where the two sides of my robe had parted. By the time we got to the top of the stairs, my robe was wide open, and my boobs were bouncing around and smashing into each other as we finally got Dale’s body to his room.

We stopped at the foot of Dale’s bed, and – noticing Troy’s eyes just about popping out of his head as he caught sight of my dangling boobs – I took a moment to close my robe, tying the sash more tightly. Then Troy grabbed Dale’s shoulders, and I grabbed his feet, and we swung him onto the bed with plenty of grunts and groans from the two of us…..mostly me.

While Troy stood in the doorway, I started stripping Dale’s clothes off him, complaining over my shoulder at Troy about guys drinking and being responsible and crazy teenagers. I started with Dale’s shoes and socks, then his shirt, and finally unbuckled and unzipped his jeans. I grabbed the bottom of his pant legs and started tugging his jeans down, over his hips and past his legs, until I was able to pull them completely off and toss them into a corner.

Dale still had his boxers on, and when I finished discarding his jeans, I looked back over at my son and couldn’t help but notice that his cock was setting outside the pee-slit in his boxers…..you know, the little flap in boxer shorts that guys use to pull their dicks out when they need to pee.