The Adventures of Shat: The Peeping Toms, part II
The Peeping Toms, Part II: I’d Hit It!
For years we had been checking out the angry husband’s wife, a beautiful, busty and almost too friendly, blonde bombshell. In reality she might be considered as only being a bit above average, but to a sexually budding fifteen year old she was a goddess, a milf in every sense of the word and we loved her.
I still remember one of the first times I saw her, that busty blonde bombshell of our youth. Another friend of mine, Kyle had brought her to my attention when I was about thirteen. I had gone to church with him one Sunday morning. It was spring time, just warm enough for short sleeves and shorts. We were standing outside after Sunday school, waiting for the service to start when Kyle pointed her out to me.
“Dude, check it out.” Kyle nodded, tilting his head in her direction. “She’s totally hot, dude.” Kyle said, practically drooling and tongue hanging out of mouth. “Man, I’d hit it.”
It turns out, boys and men of all ages love talking about how they’d hit it. And sadly, most teenager boys plagued with puberty might hit just about anything almost anytime. Horniness becomes your greatest enemy that you never knew was your enemy.
When you’re a kid, horniness is something new to you. And the fact that you haven’t learned how to handle it yet makes it dangerous. I suspect a large percentage of full grown men still have a hard time handling it which is why most of us go on to lead lives full of something I refer to as ‘in the closet’ masturbation. Horniness is no joking matter.
The willingness to hit it can be the worse side effect of this newfound horniness. As sad as it may be, a young, horny teen wants to hit most everything and if it can’t be a living, breathing girl, they may seek out substitutes to fill their needs. Most of these can be found at your local grocer and retailer. They can include but are not limited to:
• Various fruits and vegetables, preferably micro-waved grapefruit (if you aren’t well endowed) or watermelon (if you like something cold and soggy but firm).
• Fruit pies, lasagna and casseroles. (It’s a popular myth that masturbating with a warm pan of lasagna feels similar to having sex with an actual vagina. I’m unable to confirm this as I enjoy eating lasagna more than screwing it.)
• Tube socks filled with Vaseline (just don’t let your mom find them.)
• The bottoms of your sister’s stuffed animals (for the demented and confused.)
• Various pieces of soft but firm furniture (any one have an old couch cushion lying around).
I know it sounds disgusting and disturbing, but this is the reality of being a male teenager, which actually is very disgusting and disturbing at times.
“Dude, I’d totally hit it too!” I replied.
“Ha, you can have sloppy seconds, you can hit it after I hit it dude.” Kyle shot back.
“No way dude, that’s gay! Don’t be a fag.” And so the conversation goes.
Kristy, the angry husband’s wife stood midway up the stairs at the face of the church. She was wearing a translucent, silky yellow dress. You could see the tight fitting slip beneath it and the curves of her body it revealed. Her golden hair blew in the light wind. I still remember her perfectly tanned skin how white her teeth were.
At that moment I wasn’t so much horny as I was mesmerized though I’d have never admitted I wasn’t totally horny for this woman since admitting anything else as a teen is considered gay and homo.
“What’s up dudes?” Shat had walked up while we were pining over the beautiful woman. “Man, you guys check out Kristy Greare today? Damn she’s fine! I’d so hit that!”
To Shat, Mrs. Greare was more than just someone to dream about having sex with from a distance. Over the course of his early teenage years he’d developed an obsession with her which eventually led to us getting caught peeping in her window trying to catch a glimpse or her in a night gown.
Shat had developed a good friendship with Mrs. Greare’s son Nate as a younger child and spent a fair amount of time at their house. Shat would brag about seeing Mrs. Greare in her underwear or bikini and he swore she walked around the house in skimpy nightgowns when he spent the night. In the back of my mind I usually discounted his claims, thinking he was full of crap but then one day everything changed for me.
It was a day I could never forget, burned into my memories forever! And I cherish it with every fiber of my being.
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Part II of The Peeping Toms picks up with my recollection of the first time I encountered the sexy milf, Mrs. Greare! Read part I here.