Erotic
Friction Fiction

"Alabama legislators have banned the sale of sex toys in their state, apparently afraid that women who use them will lose their affection for men and turn to vibrators and dildos for comfort, affection, and sexual pleasure.

If a tiny vibrator can inspire that much insecurity, just imagine how they'd feel if they knew that some sex machines can weigh 450 pounds and move at a rate of 6500 RPM - while others are manually controlled and look like erotic fine art furniture, ideal for any stylish home".~ DarkLady

The sun was strong and straight overhead. Ethan was dripping with sweat. The stifling heat had sapped his strength. He stood in the driveway, holding the basketball, no longer with the energy to even dribble. Sweat dripped from his face and bare chest and evaporated as soon as it hit the pavement. He needed some relief, and the air conditioning inside just wasn't going to do it. He needed to sink himself in some cool water. He needed to go swimming in the Thorn's pool.

Their driveway was empty. Perfect. They invited him and his sister to use their pool anytime they wanted, but he preferred to swim when they weren't home. Mrs. Thorn was all right, but Mr. Thorn always wanted to tell him one of his long stories.

This was the Fourth of July weekend, though, and they had probably gone away somewhere. Ethan grabbed his t-shirt and went inside to put on his swim trunks. He changed in his room, grabbed a towel from the closet, and ran next door. The gate of the tall, wooden fence was unlocked, as he expected. He went in. The water in the pool shimmered in the sunlight like a beckoning oasis. He tossed the towel on a lawn chair, kicked off his basketball shoes, and dove in.

Gayle Thorn picked up the bag of groceries, unlocked the front door, went in and set her keys and purse on the table beside the door. She took the groceries out of the bag and put them in the refrigerator.

She heard a splash. Someone was in the pool. She leaned over the sink to see out the window. The water was rippling. She rushed out of the kitchen to the sliding glass doors in the living room. Her worst fear had always been that one of the young children in the neighborhood would wander into the backyard and fall into the pool. If that happened, she would never forgive herself.

A head appeared in the water. It was Ethan. He swam to the far side of the pool and climbed out. Gayle smiled. Ethan was no longer the scrawny young kid she watched growing up next door. He had grown lean and tall.

Ethan trotted to the diving board, leaving a wet trail on the cement. He climbed up to the board, walked out to the end, bounced a few times, and dove in. Gayle closed her eyes, remembering the way she saw him in the garage a few weeks ago. She'd seen a lot of cocks in her time, but never one as big as the one in Ethan's jeans.

Ethan climbed out, ran to the diving board, and dove in again.

Francis did not believe her when she told him. He claimed that since she did not actually see it uncovered or touched it, she could not accurately judge its size. When she told him how she bent over and pressed her ass to his groin, he was equally disbelieving. According to him, she could not measure the dimensions of a man's cock with her ass. She told him he was full of shit.

Ethan floated on his back, kicking and splashing with his feet. Gayle had an idea. She would find out exactly what Ethan had in his shorts, and she knew just how to do it.

Ethan drifted slowly on his back with his eyes closed. The sun was warm on his face. The cool water reenergized him. He would have gone back to play more basketball, but he was too relaxed, and having too much fun in the pool. Pam always said diving in the deep end was the most fun. Now he knew what she meant.

He felt his penis stirring in his shorts. Pam told him about having sex and said it was supposed to feel good, better than when he did it with his hand. He wanted to ask her to show him, but he didn't think he should. But maybe she would touch it. She saw it once already and said it was nice. If he got the chance, he would ask her to touch it. Just the thought of doing that with her made him stiff.

He climbed out of the pool and went to the diving board. He walked to the end, standing with his toes over the edge. He held out his arms, bounced a few times and dove in, slicing neatly into the water with his arms over his head like the point of a knife. Pumping with his feet, he paddled straight down, touched the bottom like he did every time, then pushed himself up. His head broke the surface. He wiped the water from his eyes, brushed his hair back, and paddled to the edge.

As he lifted himself out, he froze. The sliding glass door opened. Mrs. Thorn emerged from the darkness of the house, carrying two tall glasses with ice and straws and a bottle of suntan lotion. She wore dark, tortoise shell sunglasses, high heeled black shoes, and a pink bikini that was barely more than three tiny patches of fabric to cover her chest and ... Ethan stared at the tiny triangle below her belly button ... Her pussy. His jaw dropped. He teetered on the edge of the pool and grabbed the ladder railing.

"Hi, Ethan. I made lemonade. Would you like some?" she said.

She walked to the table by the lawn chair and set the glasses and the lotion down. Her huge breasts bounced with every step. Her entire body was a deep bronze color.

"Sure," Ethan said. He walked slowly to the table, trying not to stare at her chest. His thing was already hard in his shorts.

Mrs. Thorn was smiling. He took a deep drink of lemonade and coughed.

"Pretty strong?" Mrs. Thorn said.

Ethan wiped his mouth. "What's in this?"

"I put a shot of whisky in it. Do you like it?"

Ethan coughed again. "Whisky?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. You probably never had whisky," Mrs. Thorn said. She took the glass and wiped his chin. "Are you ok?"

Ethan nodded. "Fine."

"Good."

She took a long drink of lemonade. While her head was tilted back, Ethan stared at her chest. The tiny pieces of pink fabric barely covered her nipples and the strings cut into her soft flesh. His penis twitched and grew harder. It had to be pushing out the front of his shorts, but he didn't care.

Mrs. Thorn set her glass down. Her eyes glanced down to his shorts.

"Would you do me a favor?" she said.

"Sure."

She handed him the bottle of cocoa butter lotion. "Would you put lotion on my back?"

Without waiting for an answer, she straddled the reclining lawn chair and lay down on her belly. Ethan's eyes opened wide. The strip of pink fabric on the back of the bikini bottom disappeared between the cheeks of her butt.

"Go ahead," she said, her head turned to the side to look up at him. "Don't take too long. I burn easily. My skin is delicate, you know."

Ethan's hands trembled. He couldn't take his eyes off her butt. He never saw anything that looked so good in his life. He swallowed hard and sat down on the edge of the lawn chair. His knee touched her bare hip. He tried to pull away, but she moved her legs so she was touching him again.

"Don't skimp on the lotion, honey. Make sure you use plenty," Mrs. Thorn said. She rested her chin on her folded hands.

Ethan uncapped the lotion and squirted it into his palm. His hands shook. His erection strained to get out of his shorts. His hands hovered a few inches over her shoulders. Mrs. Thorn had a small smile on her lips, but he couldn't tell if her eyes were open or closed through the dark glasses. He swallowed hard and touched her shoulder.

"Mmm, that's nice," Mrs. Thorn said.

Ethan's eyes rolled back in his head. Her skin was soft and warm. His hand moved slowly in a circular pattern over her shoulder, smearing the lotion. Her skin became slick and shiny. He squirted more lotion on her other shoulder and rubbed it in. He squirted some on the small of her back and spread it on her skin, running his hands over the gentle curve of her waist.

"Lower," Mrs. Thorn said.

Ethan moved his hands down her back until his fingers grazed the top of the bikini bottom. He groaned and shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the lawn chair.

"Lower, Ethan," Mrs. Thorn said. "You don't want me to sunburn my ass, do you?"

Ethan stared at her butt. The round cheeks seemed to be waiting for him. He squirmed, dying to take his thing out of his shorts and rub it.

"No, ma'am," he said.

He squirted a blob of lotion on each cheek and smeared it around, his hand barely touching her skin. Her hips rocked slowly and her butt rose to meet his hand.

"Now get my front side," Mrs. Thorn said, and rolled over. "Start with my legs."

Ethan's hands were not shaking as much, but he was sweating and his heart was pounding. He squirted the lotion up her near leg in a line from her ankle to the middle of her thigh. He started at her ankle and moved up.

"That's good, Ethan." Her legs spread a bit. He could see a few wispy hairs poking out from under the thin, pink strip of fabric. She put her hand on his and moved it to the inside of her thigh. "Don't forget to get down in here."

She moved his hand way up her leg. His fingers pressed against her warm crotch. She moaned softly, moved his hand down, then back up, moaning again. Her hips arched off the chair.

"Are you thirsty?" she said. She let go of his hand and sat up to take a drink of lemonade.

Ethan snatched his hand back and pressed both over his lap, keeping his legs squeezed together.

"Yeah," he said. He swallowed and his throat was dry.

She handed him his glass. As he tilted it back to drink, Mrs. Thorn removed her bikini top and lay back, stretching her arms over her head. Ethan coughed and sputtered, spilling lemonade down his chin to his bare chest.

"Could you do my front side really good? My husband likes it when I don't have any tan lines," she said.

Ethan could not move. The condensation from the glass dripped on his leg, but he could not take his eyes off her chest. She wiggled her butt in the chair and they jiggled. The pink nipples at the tips were hard points.

Ethan put down the glass and picked up the bottle of lotion. He held it out, but hesitated. Should he put his hands right on them, or should he start on her belly? Would she be mad if he touched them? He started on her belly, just to be safe, but stared at her chest. He rubbed the lotion in small circles over her belly button. Her butt wiggled and she made soft moaning noises.

"Let me help," she said, and reached for the bottle of lotion.

She held it upside down and let the white lotion dribble on her chest. The drops landed with a splat. Ethan's mouth fell open. She closed the cap and set the bottle on the table.

"Now spread that around for me, honey," she said.

Ethan looked at his hands. She wanted him to put them on her chest. He held them out over each breast, closed his eyes and lowered them.

"Oh yes, Ethan," she said.

He groaned. They were so soft. He rubbed his hands lightly over them, then squeezed. He groaned again and shifted uncomfortably.

Mrs. Thorn's hand touched his knee. Ethan froze except for his hands. Her fingers moved slowly up his leg to the bottom edge of his shorts. He was sure she would stop there, but she didn't. Her hand moved over the front of his shorts, right over his hard thing.

"My goodness, Ethan. You've certainly grown up big and strong," she said.

Ethan's eyes rolled shut. Her hand moved back and forth along his thing, squeezing. Her hand felt good, much better than when he did it, just like Pam said. Then her hand was gone. Mrs. Thorn sat up.

"Would you like more lemonade?" she said.

Ethan started to speak but had no voice and cleared his throat.

"Yes ma'am" he said.

She picked up the two empty glasses and started toward the house.

"Come on inside with me, honey." She opened the sliding glass door. He was still sitting on the edge of the lawn chair, his hands over his lap. She looked over the tops of her sunglasses. "What are you waiting for?"