Imagine a big guy with a rubber mallet in your chest and he’s banging on a steel drum. That’s what it felt like the first time AJ touched me. I didn’t feel it with my first boyfriend and I sure didn’t feel it with my husband the first time. I was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. My son AJ was standing behind me. He kissed me on the neck and then reached into the top of my blouse and gently held my nipple between his fingers. He said “That’s the most beautiful thing I ever saw”, took his hand out and left without another word.

I was dumbfounded. It happened so fast and it was so surreal, I wondered if it really happened. It happened; my nipple still tingled.

Do you remember that rhyme you sang as you bounced the ball under your leg?
‘A’ my name is Alice and my husband’s name is Al.
We live in Acton and we sell apples.

In the game you went on to ‘B’; in my life I stopped at ‘A’. My name is Alice and my husband’s name is Andy and my son’s names are Andy jr. (AJ) and Alex and we take care of apartments. The ‘A’ thing just happened because my father who lives with us is named Alex and it made him happy to have my second son named after him.

AJ and Alex are so different; you would think they’re not only from different families but from different planets. Alex never says a word and always wants to be alone while AJ is warm, loving, handsome…this leads me to the difficulty. I love Alex but I’ve fallen in love with AJ.

As for my husband: he’s more interested in Mrs. Green who’s faucet always needs attention; (I think something else is dripping but I really don’t give a tinkers dam) we lost contact a long time ago.

AJ works with my husband and when he came home that night I asked him to come down to the laundry room to help me with the supplies. As we went down in the elevator, I said, “What was that all about this morning”?

“Mom, I’m not a kid and I’ve been out with a lot of girls. I know how a girl acts when she likes me. I hear the things you say and I see the way you look at me; it’s more than a mother looking at her son. I know Dad’s screwing the tenants (So it wasn’t only the Green bitch) and I gave him hell for it.

“Thank you baby but that doesn’t matter anymore. It’s just a business arrangement between him and me now.”

“Well he’s a shit anyway but I’m telling you ma, I know how you feel and I feel the same way.” He put his hands on my arms and the electricity started going through me. You have to understand, being touched for me is not like it is for most people. Some people’s hearing is better than others; some can smell things from a mile away while another person can’t smell it even if it’s under their nose. All of my skin is sensitive. That’s why I take off my bra whenever I can. That’s why my clothes are loose and silky and add to that that it’s my son’s hand that’s sliding over my breast and I’m already climbing the walls.

AJ takes my hand and leads me to the supply room and locks the door. It’s dark, warm, and wet: with stacks of detergent boxes and broken appliances on the floor and tools hanging on the walls. Who cares? AJ is kissing me. AJ is kissing me with the lover’s kisses I’ve been aching for. AJ is touching me and I’m alive. Everyplace his hand reaches seems to tremble on its own. Each breast is his as he fondles me. He lifts the dress and his hands are in my panties describing the curve from my waist down to back of my thighs. When he gets between my legs I’m electrified. I’m lost as he turns me and I bend over with my arms out over the old washing machine. He enters me from behind and I’m transported. I’m filled with my son and my legs are shaking.

“This is how I have you in my fantasy, mom: down here just like this.” As he pushes deeper up into my belly he tells me of the nights he’s spent and the things he’s done to me in this room. As he talks to me they become my fantasies too.

I can feel when he’s about to come and I want to come with him. I reach down to touch myself and as I feel the first spurts, I take myself over. The coming is so exquisite it almost hurts. As we’re coming down and my love is kissing my neck for the second time today, I’m hoping nobody was doing their laundry. Even though it’s a steel door, we made a lot of noise at the end.

He kisses me with love and touches me again; his gentle hands on my face tell me it was more than just a moment’s lust. I kiss him with my heart as his mother and his lover.

We go back upstairs and the usual dinnertime buzz is starting but I’m in another place. It’s almost excruciating to say and do what I’ve been saying and doing for years. I want to talk to AJ. I want to be with AJ. I want to touch AJ. Finally there’s a moment where we’re alone in the kitchen. “AJ we have to talk about all this.”

He comes up to me and says “sure mom but I’d rather kiss you”. His lips are on me and I’m sparked by his tongue but I pull back.

“AJ please, I want to kiss you too but please not here; it’s complicated enough without making things crazier. Go down to the park and I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

I went to the end of the small park where my son was sitting on a bench waiting for me. It was getting dark enough and there were only a few kids hanging out. We had our kiss. “AJ what are we doing?”

“Mom, you know and I know and the hell with dad and anybody else.”

“Baby, it’s not him but your brother and poppa wouldn’t understand and neither would the people we work for and on and on.”

“Mom, are you sorry…”

“Baby I’m not sorry; I don’t want to be without you but we have to know what we’re doing. Just think about it AJ; you came in me and I’ve been off the pill for six months. What if I get pregnant?”

“I wouldn’t care; I’m sure you’re beautiful when you’re pregnant.”

Alice laughed, “You know what I mean”.

He teased her and cupped her breast. “You mean these get even bigger; that I’d like to see.”

“Oh AJ…”

“Look mom, do you think I could not touch you again, or stop loving you? Tomorrow I’ll get something or you go back on the pill and we’re going to find a way to be together even if I have to drag you down to the supply room at midnight.”

I saw the flash in his eyes when he spoke and I said, “Sweet baby you’ll never have to drag me anywhere if I know you’re going to make love to me”. We kissed like school kids and when we were sure nobody was around, we touched each other until we came.

The next day was Sunday so everyone was in and out of the apartment. I was so needy and almost out of control. I never remember getting wet like that just thinking about someone and I was sure that everyone around me knew. The crazy thing was that that we did end up in the supply room again.

AJ wouldn’t or couldn’t stop touching me. Whenever no one was around he would fondle my breasts or try to slip his hands under my dress. I begged him to stop; he begged me to take off my panties. He teased me and ‘blackmailed’ me. “Mom, if you love me you would do anything for me. There’s nothing you can’t ask me to do; if you said I should lick you in the middle of the living room, I’d do it. And you wouldn’t do this little thing for me?”

He was playing but the truth is there is nothing he could ask that I wouldn’t do and I want to spend forever proving it. This was silly but I took off my panties. At one point we were in the kitchen and he stood behind me and put his finger in me. I got so nervous and turned on that I told him to follow me to supply room. I spread five or six blankets on the floor. I took my dress and bra off. I was on my knees when he came in. “Come to me my beautiful boy” I said.

I unbuckled him and undid him. I wanted to do all the things I never wanted to do with other men. He felt like velvet in my mouth and I loved what it did to him. I wanted him to come like he never came with another woman. I wanted to be the woman in all his fantasies. I’d never tasted a man this way before. It gave me as much pleasure as it did my son.

The next evening AJ went out without a word and naturally I had to ‘explain’ that I was going shopping. We met and went to a movie across town. AJ loves to kiss – I’m not complaining. I felt like I was back in high school. He kissed me raw for about a half hour and I couldn’t take anymore and said, “Let’s go to a motel”.

There was a convention in town and at the third place they only had two suites. The first took AJ’s card over the limit but the cheaper one went through. We were on our first bed and he loved me until my hair was matted and my body dripping with sweat. He went into the bathroom and came out with a lotion to use as a lubricant. I knew what he wanted.

I never understood why a woman would want a man there but after the initial shock I realized two things: it felt good because my son wanted me that way, and it felt good.

When he first entered me I thought of Jane, a woman I was friendly with a few years ago. She confided in me that she had let (made?) her son suck her breasts as he grew up. I thought it was bizarre. Now here I was in the honeymoon suite on my hands and knees with my son in my behind. So Jane, how’s that for bizarre. I thought “You don’t get more bizarre than this” and then I remembered that AJ came in me the first time. Where does having your son’s baby rate on a scale of one to ten?

This all flashed in a few seconds and then I stopped thinking. I only felt: him in me, filling that small passage, his hands gliding over my skin touching off my nipples. He opened my flower and found me with his finger so I could come as he did. He kissed and bit my back and gave his mother his love. We collapsed and slept.

We awoke and I looked at the clock. Christ, who shops until eleven thirty? That was when I decided.

AJ stayed there overnight since he didn’t always come home. I went home and told poppa and Alex that I happened to meet Jane, and we blah, blah, blah and yes I should have called. I told my husband that I’d met someone and he was soon to be my ex – husband and he couldn’t have cared less.

I’m now in my own place and AJ has also moved out of there and is staying with a ‘friend’ until he gets his own place. Where we go from here I’m not sure but I’m sure we’ll go together.

We’re now working our way through the alphabet: we’ve done everything we can think of that starts with ‘A’, ‘B’, ‘C’ and ‘D’. When were through, we’ll start on ‘Alice’ again. We’re happy.

The post A mother and son in a ‘sticky’ situation appeared first on sexstories.org.

I didn’t see mom again until dinner time. She was quiet, a bit preoccupied I guess; enough so that Dad asked her if everything was all right. “Yeah, fine.” She tells him as she moves the food around on her plate with her fork. “I have a report I have to finish by Monday, that’s all. I can’t seem to get it out of my head.” She shot a quick glance in my direction. A snotty glance. We sat and ate; my father asking the usual questions. “How was school?” “How’s baseball going’?” Bla— Bla— Bla— Bla… Every once-in-a-while, I caught Mom looking at me. She was hard to read. One time she looked mad, the next time, she didn’t. I was beginning to worry about the repercussions heading my way.

The rest of the night went relatively normal. After dinner, the dishes were cleared, Dad sat down in front of the TV watching baseball, and Mom sat at the dining room table going through her briefcase. The only thing different was the fact that I found myself looking at my Mom a lot. For a second, I wondered how my Dad managed to get a woman as beautiful as my Mom and how lucky he was. Then after a few more minutes of thought I realized with the bitching and the mood swings Mom was notorious for…I figured that maybe Dad broke even on the whole thing. But she certainly was hot

Her hair was back in a ponytail; the tail hanging well past her shoulders. She had a long, off-white sun dress on that had some-kind of yellow and pink floral print over one shoulder and down the other side. She seemed to float as she walked. She was bare foot; something she didn’t do often. I found it very “Girl next door”, although she was way more beautiful than any girl that had ever lived next door; or on the entire street.

Her make-up was light, her lips a pretty shade of pink. Her make-up looked fresh; like she’d freshened up a bit before dinner. That was something she didn’t normally do. She looked much younger then forty-three. She looked… …Well, like she should be on the cover of some magazine.

I was sneaking glances at my Mom so much that I started to feel self-conscious. I told them that I had a book report coming up and headed up to my room “To read”. “That’s my boy”, my old man boasted. “He’s something’ isn’t he Kat?” {Kathy} Dad asked, never taking his eyes off the TV. “Oh yeah, he’s something alright.” Mom agreed as she looked away from her paperwork only to find me staring at her again. I was close enough to first see her cheeks fill with color and maybe a hint of embarrassment in her eyes and then, the next second, her lips tightened, and her eyes narrowed. She quickly turned back to her work. Talk about hard to read, Holy Fuck. It was like living with Mrs. Jeckle & Mrs. Hide.

I went upstairs and read for a book-report that wasn’t due for three weeks. I straightened up my room and fucked around on my computer. I did anything to try and stop from thinking about what Mom had done this afternoon. But wouldn’t you know it; I ended up on a porn site dedicated to “Mature Women”.

I was browsing through pictures and movie clips, stopping at the ones that reminded me of my Mom. There were a lot: ‘Moms’ getting themselves off; home alone, in the car, even in store dressing rooms. It was wild. I saw ‘Moms’ doing their ‘son’s’ best friends and even their son’s girlfriends too. And I watched movie clips of ‘moms’ doing more than one young boy at a time. It was pretty hot. I didn’t see any Mom’s doing the family pet but I’m sure, given the time, I would have eventually wound up there.

I‘d gotten sucked into the computer and was shocked when I noticed the time. It was 12:20. Normally my parents would say good night before they went to bed. I figured that Dad had fallen asleep watching TV again and Mom was probably just pissed off or too embarrassed to bother.

I got up out of the chair and looked down at the bulge in my pants. I gave it a little rub and kinda smiled, picturing my Mom on her knees in front of me. I still couldn’t believe it. I grabbed hold of the bulge and started to prance around the room like I was riding a stick horse. Evidently, I was in an exceptionally good mood.

“I guess I’m gunna have to take care of you before I’ll be able to go to sleep, huh Partner?” I told the front of my pants. “You’ll have to wait a few minutes though.”

I figured I’d get ready for bed, {I sleep in my old gym shorts.} then I’d slip down to the kitchen real fast and get a drink before I came back up to deal with this hard-on I had. I slipped into my gym shorts, adjusted my hard dick, and headed for the kitchen.

I quietly walked down the steps. Sure enough, there was dad sleeping on the couch snoring away. I slipped into the kitchen and reached for the light switch. I saw my Mom, her back to me, still sitting at the dining room table in front of the work she’d brought home. She had changed for bed. She wore a pretty short, black night dress with thin straps that showed a great deal of leg. It was hot!!

She was leaning back in the chair, her head tilted way back and she was pulling at the scrunchie that held her hair in a ponytail. I watched her arch her back as she stretched. She was tired. I couldn’t help but stare as she freed her long hair, ran her fingers through it, and then shook it out with a quiet moan and the slow, sexy swaying of her head.

She reminded me of one of those hot babes on the shampoo commercials. “More shine-Better body”

I watched silently, Dad snoring in the back ground, as she stretched her arms over her head and then she wiggled her fingers to loosen them. A slow tired grown escaped her as she dropped her hands and rubbed her neck and shoulders. I was mesmerized. I could feel my shorts getting even tighter. I instinctively reached down and adjusted my dick again.

“Jesus.” I heard my mom whisper. “I can’t believe it.” She moaned quietly to herself. I was pretty sure I knew what she was thinking about. I watched from the shadows of the kitchen as Mom massaged the back of her neck. “You have to stop thinking about it.” She advised herself under her breath before putting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands. She shook her head slowly with regret and sighed long and slow.

It was right then, remembering the attitude Mom had when she first caught me this afternoon that I got an idea…

I quietly walked up to my Mom. I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder. She jerked around and saw that it was me. “You scared the shit out of me.” She barked quietly. Her eyes immediately caught the big bulge in my gym shorts as I stood next to her.

“I was just thinking about you, Mom.” This time it was me that was throwing around the sarcasm.

“Yeah well, I’m having a little trouble finishing this report so if you don’t mind. . .” Her eyes bounced back and forth between my eyes and my shorts nervously. She leaned to one side a little to catch a glimpse of the couch. Dad was still sleeping. I just stood there.

“What do you want Robert?”

“I just came down to get a drink and saw you here. You look kinda. . . . . .stressed.”

“Well, I have a lot on my mind.”

“I bet you do”, I responded.

Mom cocked her head a little, trying to figure out what I was up to. She again looked at the erection I was sporting. “I don’t think you should be walking around like that.” She says nodding her head towards the front of my shorts with a disgusted look on her face. She shot another look towards the couch. I looked down at the bulge. “It wasn’t like that when I came down the steps.” I lied.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I got that watching you doing the hair-thing and all.” I told her matter-of-factly.

She looked a little surprised at my bluntness and a little uncomfortable with it as well. I was glad to put the shoe on the other foot. “Robert, what do you want?” She asked sternly.

“I’m not really sure.”

“Something else to hold over my head no doubt.” She hissed with a snotty whisper.

She turned to her paperwork for a few seconds while she assessed the situation. She bit her lip a little and softly scratched her face with her long fingernails. She turned a little more in her chair so she could see the couch better and talk to me at the same time. She looked worried.

“That should have never happened Robert. . .” She started. “. . .but it did and we can’t change that.” She says. “I think it would probably be best if we just forget today ever happened.”

“Best for who?” I shot back; glad that I was holding some good cards this hand.

“So what are you going to do…Blackmail me?” She says, shocked that I might even consider such a thing. Blackmail hadn’t really entered my mind ‘till then.

“I have an idea.” I told her.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah…” I leaned in closer, “How about… …another blowjob?” I asked with a lump in my throat. I was really hoping I didn’t look as scared as I really was. I was fucking around with fire here.

She jerked her head back on her neck. “Robert!” She shot a look towards the couch. “. . .You need to shut up. What if your father wakes up and hears you?” She asked in a quiet but stern voice.

“Well… …that wouldn’t be very good.” I said sarcastically. She stared at me for a few seconds.

“Bobby?” {I was “Bobby” again} She looked pretty tense. “We can talk about this tomorrow morning after your Father leaves to play golf.”

She had a hopeful look in her eyes. But she hadn’t let me off the hook that easily this afternoon. “We can do that.” I told her.

She looked a little relieved. But before she had a chance to say anything or get to comfortable, I told her, “But for right now…” She looked at me attentively. “I think that maybe you should take care of this.”

I swallowed hard. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but I did it anyways. I pulled the front of my shorts down. A bold move for sure. Sink or swim here. “Bobby!” She gasped as she slid her chair back real quick. She looked down at my hard-on and jerked her head towards the couch again to make sure my dad wasn’t sitting there watching all this. He snored lightly with his back to us.

“Robert! Put that thing away before your father wakes up.”

I leaned in towards her a little and whispered, “I guess we’d have some explaining to do, wouldn’t we Mom?”

“You can’t be serious…” She hissed. “You want me to do that …Here?… Now?”

I was standing my ground. Believe me, the thought of my Dad waking up and catching me exposing myself to mom, scared the shit out of me. But the thought of what my Mom had done earlier that day; the picture of her with her lips around my cock, well―it was like a d**g. I really wanted more.

Her eyes flickered back and forth from my Dad back to the hard dick right in front of her as she shifted nervously in her chair. She certainly looked conflicted. She looked the way I probably looked when she stood over me in the living room this afternoon telling me that I didn’t have much time to comply with her demands.

She groaned quietly as she scrutinized her predicament. She could have just got up and run up the stairs but she didn’t. She truly was running out of time. Dad could wake up at any second and see us and she knew it.

I didn’t respond. I just stood there with my dick out, waiting. I felt kinda like the family pet that shit on the new carpet. I wasn’t really sure what was gunna happen, but I knew it was coming.

“I can’t do this… …I won’t do this” She hissed under her breath. She took a deep breath; looked over nervously at Dad, and then shot a quick look around the kitchen. “. . Not here.” she whispered anxiously.

“In my room?” I suggested, more than surprised at her response.

“No―Not in your room, Robert.” She rolled her beautiful eyes. “If your father wakes up. . .” She cut her eyes at him, “. . .and sees that I’m not in our bed, he’ll come looking for me.”

“How bout the garage then?” I asked with a smirk on my face. {Like the movie she’d caught me watching} She exhaled loudly and rolled her eyes again. “I can’t believe this.” She groaned.

She looked at the couch one last time then back to me. She stood up slowly, “Come on…”

I tucked myself in and followed my Mom. “She’s really gunna.” I thought. “Holy shit!”

I felt like a little kid that just stole Santa’s sled.

Mom led the way to the garage. She opened the door, took one final glance back through the kitchen before descending the five steps into the cool garage. She walked directly to the front of my Dad’s cherry MG; the furthest spot from the kitchen door and turned to me with her hands on her hips.

“Did you shut the door?”, She hissed.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure Robert?”

“I shut the door Mom!”

“Lower your voice. I don’t like having to do this one little bit Robert.” She lied.

She sounded pissed again. But I really didn’t care. All I could concentrate on was that I was going to watch my beautiful mom give me another blowjob. It was dark in the garage. I flipped the tiny light on above the workbench.

“Turn that light off.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘No’? If your father opens that door, he’s going to see us.”

“We can duck down behind the car. I want to watch you.”

“What? Watch? Why?”

“Because you’re so hot.” I told her honestly.

She stared at me for a few long seconds but said nothing. She rubbed her lips together. I thought she was about to change her mind then she slowly, seemingly reluctantly, squatted down.

“Come here.”, she says reaching out for the top of my shorts with a certain measure of distaste on her face. I stepped right up to her and she pulled my shorts down to my knees.

“We have to hurry.” She whispered.

“I know… …Before someone catches us.’” I quoted the movie.

“I just knew this was the kind of shit that got you off.” She whispered under her breath and shook her head slowly as she started to run her long fingers over my hard cock; examining it. Her tone was harsh, but her eyes were soft and wanting.

She glanced up at me, “incest…” She whispered. “It’s so wrong to make me do this, you know that don’t you?” She added as she returned her attention to the hard dick in front of her. She plucked a tiny piece of lint off the tip of my dick with her long fingernails and flicked it to the floor. She returned to her scrutiny as she moved my hard dick from one side to the other; inspecting, seemingly indifferent like it was a job she’d been doing forever.

She could take all night as far as I was concerned. She looked incredibly sexy down there.

“How long have you been thinking about me like this Robert?” She asked me as she ran her fingertips over me. It was getting a little hard concentrating on the conversation as I watched her.

“I don’t know, for a while I guess.”

“I can’t see why you would want me to do something like this to you.” She says. The question sounded sincere.

“You mean besides the fact that you’re gorgeous?” Another burst of honesty.

She looked up at me as she crouched there. She looked like she appreciated the compliment.

She turned us both a little so that the light from the workbench showed her pretty face more clearly. She caught the long strands of hair that hung in her face with the fingernail of her pinky and hooked them behind her ears; first one side then the other.

“Is that better?” She says as she looks up at me. There seems to be no sign of resentment in her eyes.

She opened her mouth wide and I watched my dick slowly disappear.

I gasped, “Jeez!” When she had it all in her mouth she wrapped her full pretty pink lips softly around it and sucked.

She stared into my eyes as she slowly, very slowly, pulled her head back until just the red tip was left between her lips. She was putting on a show. She was teasing me. Showing me just how sensual she could be. “Jesus!” I moaned and rested one hand on the front of the car to steady myself while I watched her do it again. “You look so…so…amazing… doing that.” I told her.

Her pointy tongue twirled slowly around the head of my dick as her hand slid down to the base. She didn’t look like someone being blackmailed. I felt her pinky touch my ball sack. She held me firmly and began to bob her head back and forth over me in earnest; taking all of my hard cock all the way in her mouth until her lips touched her fingers.

She wasn’t fooling around. She wanted to make me cum as fast as she could and she knew just how to make that happen.

She took it out of her mouth and started jerking me off real fast as she glanced at the garage door. She shut her eyes and let her tongue flicker around the head some more. The head of my dick slapped her lips repeatedly, smearing her pink lipstick and covering her lips with my pre-cum.

“This is disgusting. . .” She whispered.

I lost my breath when Mom licked her lips and filled her mouth with it again. I felt her moan as she sucked it.

I slipped my hands behind her head and pulled her beautiful long hair back into a ponytail so I could better see her face. She stopped and looked up at me again with just the head of my dick in her mouth. I held her head still, I felt her slide her hands to my bare hips. I slowly pushed forward. She let me slowly start to fuck her mouth. She didn’t look so mad now.

I can’t describe how she looked. All I can say is that she looked hotter and sexier than any slut I’d seen in any porn magazines or any movies. I could hear her, “Ummm― Ummm― Ummm― Ummm…” each time I pushed it in her mouth. I could feel the tip of my dick hitting the back of the throat with each stroke.

After a few minutes she pulled back, letting my dick fall from her mouth. It was really wet now. She spread her spit all over it as she stroked it quickly. That squishing sound filled the garage.

Then mom stared at my cock and got this disgusted look on her face and said something I wasn’t expecting; “I bet you think about fucking me too, don’t you?” She hissed as she stroked me. I was a bit surprised at the sharpness of her tone. The show that she was putting on made me temporarily forget that she “Didn’t want to do this”.

She looked at my cock as she pumped it and talked. “You probably want to make me bend right over your father’s car I bet, so you can stick this thing in me and fuck me with it right now, don’t you?” She bitched.

I thought the questions might be rhetorical.

She looked up, “Is that what you’re gunna make me do Robert? You gunna tell me you’ll tell your father what we did. . . what I’m doing now.” She stroked me more aggressively. “Is that what you’re gunna tell me so I have no choice but to let you do that to me?

She was moving her hand faster now. “You’re gunna blackmail your own mother… …Aren’t you? So you can fuck her? Aren’t you Robert?”

I was “Robert” again. She looked kinda mad kneeling there in front of me as she sucked my dick back into her mouth. I thought that behind the phony anger I could see the pleading. I told her with a quick breath what she wanted to hear, “Yes!”

She took one last look at the door that led to my father. I swear I saw her eyes roll back when she sucked my cock back in between her lips.

She sucked and licked it for a minute or so, like she loved the taste; like it was a big Pop-cycle and she couldn’t get enough of it. She pinned it to my stomach with her lips and kissed the belly of it; kissing her way to my balls. It felt amazing. It was all I could do to keep from cumming.

I have to admit, I wasn’t thinking much about my Dad catching us at this point. I don’t think I could’ve cared less at that moment. I was way too wrapped up in my Mom. It became quite apparent that Mom wasn’t giving Dad a lot of thought either when she stood up and turned to face the car. She pulled her night dress up around her waist and leaned over the hood of the small car.

Her ass was beautiful. A thin black string from her thong separated her firm ass checks. The thin, transparent patch of material that covered her pussy, looked wet. It was soaked with her juices. The juices that I, no doubt, made her secrete.

She looked back over her shoulder, almost maliciously, “Here! Is this what you really want Robert?” She hissed as she reached back and caught the string of her thong with a long fingernail to pull it to one side.

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure who was in control here but quickly decided I didn’t care.

“I knew this was what you wanted when I caught you jerking off to that movie… …You wanted to fuck me, didn’t you? Come on then― Fuck me!.” She demanded through gritted teeth.

I slipped up behind her. My hard cock slipped easily into her wet pussy. I felt mom push back hard to make sure she had it all. She made small circles with her ass as she pushed back. She released her thong, rested both hands on the car, and laid her cheek on the cool red hood of the little MG.

“Come on!” She scowled.

I fished her thong out of the crack of her ass. It was soaked too now. I pressed it to the cheek of her nice round ass with one hand and held her lacey night dress out of the way with the other so I could see better. I started to fuck her. Slow at first; watching it go in and out of Mom’s slippery, pink pussy. “It matches her lips…” I thought. I started to fuck her faster and harder.

In just a few minutes Mom lifted one bare foot up and propped it up on the front bumper. She positioned herself more securely on the front of the car and then did the same with her other foot, spreading them far apart and crouching to keep her ass low enough, giving me a better view and better access. She pushed back on me using the bumper and the windshield for leverage. She felt tighter and it felt like I was in even deeper now.

I held her there and shoved forward as she pushed back. It felt amazing and the view was incredible.

My Mom grunted each time my balls smacked her clit. Each grunt seemed to get a little louder as my thighs slapped into hers.

“Umh― Umh― Umh― Umh― Umh― Umh― Umh―” I don’t know how I lasted as long as I did.

“I’m gunna cum!!!” I groaned through my tight lips.

My mom didn’t slow down a bit. If anything, she moved her ass faster in response.

I let go of her thong and filled my hands with the roundness of each ass cheek. I spread my fingers apart and dug into ass as I drove up into her.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this…” She grunts. I hear her whine through labored breathing. “You’re making me cum! I’m cumming! I’m cumming too Bobby!!” {I’m “Bobby” again}

The timing couldn’t have been better. I started to shoot a tremendous load of spunk into my Mom’s sweet pussy as she pushed up onto her hands and rocked her ass up and down and side to side. She moved her ass in small circles as she pushed off the windshield of the car.

“Oh God Bobby!!! FUCK!!!” I could feel her ass quivering.

“Oh God!” She says and buried her mouth in her forearm and bit down in an attempt to muffle her moans. “UMMMMMMMMMMMMM” she groaned.

We both came and came hard. I could feel stuff pouring out of her pussy with each trust, running down my balls and onto my thighs. I could feel it splashing my legs as my balls slapped her pussy.

Mom collapsed on the front of the MG trying to catch her breath; her heavy breathing drowning out what she was trying to say. I let my hands glide over her firm ass-checks, running both thumbs down the crack of her ass; marveling at its shape. I hear her moan quietly as my thumb eased over her asshole. I pulled out and slide my fingers down to her soaked pussy.

I took a few seconds feeling how wet and swollen her pussy lips were. They were soft and slippery. I touched her clit. It was hard and swollen. She jerked her ass in response each time my fingertips glided over it. I could feel that Mom’s pussy was smooth, shaved and I spread some of the wetness over its softness.

I don’t know how long we stayed there like that but I was in no hurry to leave the garage. At that point, I doubt I could have even found my way back to my room.

She mumbled something again, but I still couldn’t understand what she was saying with her face buried in her arm. I stepped around to the front fender, “What?” I whispered. “I can’t hear you.”

She lifted her head and looked over at me. She took a deep steady breath and released it. “I suppose you’ll tell your father about this if I don’t let you fuck me tomorrow too.” She bitched as she lay her head back down on the car and concentrated on breathing.

I couldn’t believe that after all this, the “bitchy” had returned full force. I smiled and tucked my wet dick back into my shorts. Nothing she could say now could ruin my mood.

Then Mom did something else that shocked me. She slid off the hood of the car and dropped down to her knees in front of me again. She pulled me to her by the front of my shorts.

“You’ll probably want to do some more sick shit to me after your Dad leaves for the Golf Course tomorrow, Won’t you?”

She griped as she exposed my tired, wet dick. She glided the tip of one finger down its slimy length as it hung semi-soft in front of her. She twirled her finger around the sloppy head a few times then rubbed her thumb and finger together. She looked like she was in deep thought as she watched her fingers sliding back and forth together.

“You’ll wanna do something depraved …Like fuck me on the kitchen table or cum on my face, I bet. . .” She hissed, staring at my prick the entire time she bitched.

She wrapped her fingers around my wet, semi-hard dick and pulled at it roughly, angrily, stretching it. It didn’t really hurt but her attitude kinda caught me by surprise.

“This is incest…”, she reminds me. “You’re sick…” She growled as she took me in her mouth again. I leaned back on the hood of Dad’s car while she sucked my dick clean.

The post A Mother’s Seduction appeared first on sexstories.org.

It’s been five months since dad left with another woman. He doesn’t even call to see if we’re doing ok. But It’s fine. At least now we know the true colors of that piece of shit. But still, it’s almost unbelievable how 21 years of my life were spent with someone who couldn’t give less of a rat’s ass about us.

And since he’s proven he’s no longer a man and jumped ship, I had to move back with mom to help her make ends meet. But I guess that’s one of the few silver linings of all of this. I get to see her more and help her out both financially and emotionally. And that’s what’s most important. Especially since I have a sneaking suspicion that she’s still being affected. Not as severely as when it initially happened, but it’s still clear that she needs me.

“Mom, I’m home,” I call out as I walk into the house with groceries in my hands, “They didn’t have pineapples so I got you some mangos. I didn’t wanna come back without some vitamins so I grabbed the next best thing.”

No response. Weird. I walk out of the foyer into the living room and there she is, on the couch in her pajamas staring into the TV. She was always known to be too infatuated with her shows. I walk over to her and kiss her on her head, grabbing her attention.

“Mail’s here,” I say before walking in the kitchen to put everything up,

“Funny,” she responds, “You forget my pineapples?”

“Nope. In fact, they’re so offended that you thought I did, they turned into mangoes.”

“Aww. Well in that case, I apologize.”

“Nope. Deed’s been done. Plus, I have a feeling they’re into the mango life.”

“Well bully for them.”

I finish putting up the food and head back into the living room.

“So whatcha watchin’ anyway?” I question,

“Eh, just something that came up when I turned it on. It looked boring at first, but when I was about to turn it, it got interesting. So now I’m hooked.”

“Mind if I join?”

“Not at all, but there’s a few minutes left. Not sure what’s coming on after this.”

“That’s fine.”

I take a seat beside her, watching the last bit of whatever this is. But even with the snippet, I get what she means. This is interesting. I’ve gotta see if this comes on again.

But it ends and the next show comes up. As it goes on, I find that it really isn’t offering much.

Stale jokes, unnecessary laugh track, boring characters and plot, kinda disappointing. But as I’m stomaching the garbage before me, I feel some weight being applied to my shoulder. I look out of the corner of my eye to see that it’s mom’s head. She’s leaned against me and bunched up. Aww. It’s insane to think that just two decades ago, the tables were turned.

I subconsciously bring my arm behind her back, embracing her more and she accepts my embrace, wrapping her arm around me in response. She looks so comfortable. And she’s so warm and soft. I guess that should be expected from a mother, but this is different. I turn my attention back to the “show” and start blankly as the unamusing banters and dry plot. That is until mom starts giggling. Really? She actually finds this funny? But then she says,

“Havin’ fun there?”

I turn to ask what she means, only to discover that I’ve been rubbing her stomach this whole time. I immediately pull my hand away before saying,

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t me-”

She interrupts me by grabbing my hand and placing it back where it was.

“It’s fine,” she assures, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. It’s actually nice.”

Odd. But ok. As long as she enjoys it. I start rubbing her stomach once again and she settles herself in the couch. This actually is kinda nice. I mean, removing the obvious weirdness of the gravity here, it is a bit soothing.

After a while, the show’s over. Thank God. And another show comes up. A few moments into it, I’m thoroughly confused. I guess it’s one of those shows where everything only makes sense if you watch the whole thing. It seems so convoluted. I have no idea what direction it’s going. Is there a war? Are these people oppressed? Why’s that kid crying? And why does everyone in the radius care? What’s with that door? Wha- waaait a minute, what’s happening?

“Well, well, well,” the man says after placing a finger under a frightened woman’s chin, “Would you look at what we have here? It would seem that the rebels have come to play. Interesting.”

She jerks her head away and says,

“Just shut up so we can get this over with.”

He pins her to the wall before saying,

“Fine. Just take all the fun out of it, why don’t you?”

He then gives her a deep kiss, groping and fondling her breasts in the process. Ok, yeah.

Thanks but no thanks. I refuse to have this in the same vicinity as my mother. I grab the remote to change before she says,

“Wait, hang on. I think I’ve seen this before. I don’t think anything happens. I think someone bursts in before he gets the chance to do anything.”

Um…Alright. The scene then transitions to her bent over a table as the man thrusts himself in and out of her. He groans out in pleasure as she grips onto the table, trying to hide her signs of enjoying it. Alright, something’s happening, no one’s showed up, what the hell? I turn to mom and she shrugs before saying,

“I can be wrong.”

Ok, she clearly enjoys this, so who am I to deprive her of her entertainment? So I tough it through. But I direct my attention above the TV. I just can’t look at this with my mom right here. But the sounds are just a little bit more difficult to ignore. After a few uncomfortable moments, the scene ends. Ok. That wasn’t too bad.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” mom says,

Yes. Yes it was.

“I guess not,” I reply,

“Exactly. It’s just a little bit of human body. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Especially since yours is showing to not be shy at all.”

You know what? She’s right. The human anatomy is a wonderful specimen and I shouldn’t be so- what the fuck did she just say?

“What do you mean?” I question.

She points to my crotch and my heart drops in my stomach. Before me is my raging erection trying to burst out of my pants. Oh, fuck. She giggles before saying,

“Now, now, what did we just discuss? There’s no shame in the human body. That’s just how it works. We laugh when we’re amused, we pee when we drink, we show our arousal when we’re…you know…aroused. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I mean, sure,” I respond, “But you’re my mom.”

“Yes. I’m your mom. Meaning I’ve seen it way before you did. And possibly more than you did in your diaper days. It wasn’t weird then. The only difference now is you have two digits in your age. You’re still my bouncing baby boy.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m a mom. It’s what we do. Now don’t think about it too much.”

Ok. She just made this way less uncomfortable. She’s right. I’m just overthinking this. It’s just an organ that she’s seen years before I did. So what’s the point in making a fuss about it? I continue watching the show, piecing together some of the questions I had a few minutes ago in the process. Now I’m hooked.

Eventually, another sex scene appears. It’s a little different from the last one. This woman seems more into it. This gets me going again and I accept it. It’s natural. But this is somewhat worse than last time. This time, I’m physically uncomfortable. There’s only so much room in my underwear, let alone my pants, to contain me. I guess mom takes notice of this because as she maintains her focus on the TV, she says,

“You know, if it’s that bothersome, I wouldn’t mind if you just whipped it out.”

Hm. Odd request. Watching soft-core porn is one thing, getting a rager is pushing it, but this is exposing myself. Wait, wait, just remember what we just talked about. She’s seen it before. The only difference is my age. It’s fine.

“Alright,” I reply.

I unbutton and unzip my pants before sliding them off along with my underwear, freeing my erect member.

“Wow,” she says, “You’ve really grown, haven’t you? How can you not have a date yet?”

Oh, mom, so naïve about how girls only want guys who are good at something.

“Well,” she continues, “Since you’re committing, it’s only fair that I commit, too.”

She leans up before removing her shirt and pajama bottoms along with her panties. Again, odd request, but again, human anatomy. And oh my God, her anatomy is just outstanding. Her breasts, her body, her- what the fuck am I thinking? That’s my mother!

“Hey,” she says, waving her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts, “Can you hear me? I want the remote. This show’s boring and I wanna see what else is on.”

“Oh,” I say as I re-enter my state of mind, “Right. Right, uh, here you go.”

I hand her the remote before she gives me a grin and says,

“Thank you.”

She returns to her position, leaning on me as she scrolls through the different channels. My hand returns to her now exposed stomach, but I don’t move it. Mostly because now I might risk touching something and I’m just gonna stop thinking about that for the rest of my natural life.

She picks a channel to watch and sets down the remote. Now, it’s at this point I need to know, HOW HORNY IS THIS WOMAN?!? Why is she on the most adult heavy channel we have? Why does she know about this? Alright, calm down. Maybe this is just to drive the point home that she’s comfortable with this type of stuff around me. So maybe I should show her the same courtesy. Plus, she’s been so alone for so long. She’s bound to search for this kind of stuff in her free time. Yeah, the internet’s a bit of a better option, but maybe she’s like me and finds there’s something slightly more euphoric about finding it on national television.

I relax a bit, accepting mom’s choice, and watch as I’m greeted with two heroines in a run down amusement park being hypnotized by a villain. Of course, the acting is atrocious, but the scene afterwards is the real source of entertainment. It starts with him forcing the two girls to make out. It then transitions to one girl on her hands and knees with the guy pumping in and out of her as she licks the other girl’s center. With every moment this goes on, I’m just getting more and more turned on. I almost wanna stroke it right here and now, but that just crosses the line. I’m not jerking off in front of my own mom.

But as I say that, I get an intense jolt of pleasure throughout my body, starting from my penis. What the hell? My right arm is hanging on the back of the couch and my left is around mom’s torso. I look down and my mind just factory resets itself. Before me is the imagery of my mom with her hand wrapped around my cock, gently stroking it up and down.

“Mom, wha-” I start, but I’m interrupted with her other hand covering my mouth as she continues stroking,

“Shhhh,” she starts before saying in a sultry tone, “Let mommy take care of this, ok? Sitting in discomfort isn’t good for you. You need release. And I’m more than happy to give it to you, ok?”

Ok, this is wrong. This shouldn’t be happening. But before I can object any more, she takes the head of my cock inside of her mouth, gently sucking on it as she continues stroking me. I let out a light moan as she sucks on it more and more. Eventually, she takes more of me inside of her mouth, getting all the way to the base after a few attempts. She then starts bobbing up and down my shaft, earning more and more moans.

As this goes on, my cares and worries dwindle more and more. Why is this even a problem? She likes it. I like it. Why question it? You know what? There’s no point in questioning it. I might as well embrace it.

I bring a hand to the back of her head, guiding her up and down my cock, as I bring my other hand to her soaking wet pussy, rubbing It with two of my fingers, earning moans from her. I bring my fingers to my mouth and lick her juices off of them. Fuck, she tastes amazing. I stick my fingers in my mouth, coating them in my saliva before bringing them back to mom’s pussy and driving them inside of her before thrusting in and out of her, causing her to moan even louder.

She starts sucking a bit faster and I follow suit, matching her rhythm. Fuck, her mouth feels so good. But this isn’t enough. I want more. I need more. And I guess she wants the same thing because after a few moments, she takes me out of her mouth before giving a devious grin and says,

“You know, after your father left, I got sterilized.”

She then leans up and straddles me.

“I didn’t want you to have any brothers or sisters.”

She slowly starts grinding on me.

“You know why?”

I shake my head. She giggles before saying,

“Because you’re my special boy. You’re the only one I need.”

She then leans in my ear and whispers in a seductive tone,

“And I’m not one to share what’s mine. So use me to your heart’s content.”

She then lifts her hips and lowers onto my cock, letting out a moan in the process. I then grant her wish, grabbing onto her hips before lifting and lowering her on my shaft, causing her to let out louder moans. She then wraps her arms around my neck and elevates the pleasure for us both by rolling her hips with every decent.

“How’s it feel, baby?” she questions through moans, “You like how your mommy’s pussy feels around your dick? Hm? You like how she’s sliding up and down? I bet you really love how these tits are bouncing for you, huh? Yes. For you. All of this is for you. Now claim it. Claim me. Fuck me like you mean it. Fuck me.”

I speed up my pace, thrusting into her in the process. She moans even louder as she tightens her grip and I tighten mine in response.

“Yes,” she moans out, “Just like that. Give it to me. Drive it into me. Fuck me until you fill me. You want that, don’t you? You wanna fill mommy up? You wanna give her your milk? Do it. Use me. Use me like a little fuck toy. I’ll be your toy whenever you want. I’ll take it like a good girl.”

Everything she’s saying is turning me on even more. How could anyone walk away from this? Thank God I inherited her brains. She brings her face closer to mine and whispers,

“Tell me you love me. Say it. Say you love me. Say you love this. Tell me how much you love mommy’s pussy.”

“I love you so much,” I respond, “I love fucking your little pussy. I can’t get enough of it.”

“Fuck! I love you, too, baby. Now show me. Show me how much you love me. Cum for me. Cum inside of me to show me. Do it. Give me your cum.”

After a few minutes, I feel myself getting closer and closer to fulfilling her desires. So I switch our positions so that she’s laying on the couch. I give her a passionate kiss as I thrust in and out of her as hard and as fast as I possibly can. She wraps her legs around my hips and I embrace her tighter.

Then, I moan into the kiss as I spill my seed in my mother’s insides, filling her up just as she wanted. And being the overachiever I am, I release so much, it starts leaking out onto the couch. When I finally stop, we take a moment to catch our breaths, staring into each other’s eyes. I then break the silence and say between breaths,

“So…how’s about I get started on dinner?”

She nods before saying,

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

I give her another kiss and she reciprocates, cupping my face in the process. Afterwards, she looks me in the eye and says,

“Please don’t leave me.”

I hug her tight before saying,

“That thought would never even cross my mind.”

The post Mom’s Anatomy appeared first on sexstories.org.

My best friend’s mom is hot, I mean smoking hot, and she knows it. She walks around in bikinis that showcase her long legs, tight ass and big tits; she also dresses up often in pantyhose and short skirts that have all of us guys drooling. Every one of Barry’s friends call her a MILF, much to Barry’s chagrin, and each of us have shot a ton of cum out of our cocks fantasizing about her.

For me, fantasy became reality this summer.

Sandra, Barry’s mom, asked me if I could help her build a new shed for their back yard. I, of course, said yes, for a few reasons:

1. She offered me good money to do it.
2. It was what I did, build things and I could do it a lot cheaper and faster than a company could.
3. I would be around her house every day for three weeks or so.
4. I hoped to get to fuck her…even though it still seemed like a far-fetched dream.

She suggested I start the second week of July, which happily coincided with Barry would be gone on a two week hiking trip with his father (a dumb ass who divorced Sandra a few years ago…no one can fathom why). I, of course, agreed and shot a load in her honour every day until I started working for her.

The week before I started, I got to see her every day as I brought over designs for the shed. Every day she would suggest changes that required me to bring back a different design. She dressed in sundresses every day, or a t-shirt and short shorts that almost no adult should wear…except her. It was like she was taunting me to take her, even though she had always dressed like this…something I believe frustrated her jealous ex-husband.

Anyway, we finally agreed on a design and as I left she said, “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you better, Evan.”

“Me too,” I nodded, realizing my response didn’t even make sense.

She smiled her dazzling, knee buckling smile, and added, “Be warned it’s supposed to be a hundred degrees all week.”

“I will dress appropriately,” I shrugged.

She winked, the first hint of her ulterior motives, “I’m not sure I will.”

Just then Barry came downstairs and we headed out for one last night of partying before he went on his trip…oblivious to the fact that I was hoping that while he was gone I would get to fuck his mother.

I arrived as scheduled at eight the following morning and was greeted by Sandra, in a robe, clearly having just gotten up. I could see a little of her ample cleavage, and briefly fantasized just tugging her robe open and devouring her right then and there. That said, I wanted to take my time, to be sure I had read the many signs of her interest in me right…it would be humiliating and potentially friendship ending if I was wrong.

She sent me out back where the supplies had all arrived the day before, and I started working. I was a couple hours in when she first came out to check on me. Dressed in a two piece bikini that showcased every curve of her perfect body, my cock instantly woke up in my shorts.

She asked, “How’s it coming?”

I answered, (ignoring playing on the word coming even though it was tempting, instead using the words my dad always did when asked a similar question, “Slow and steady.”

She said, “Going for a swim. Feel free to join me if you like.”

“Not at the moment, ma’am,” I nodded, because I knew if I did I would be done for the day.

“It’s Sandra,” she corrected. “My mother is ma’am.”

“Of course, Sandra,” I nodded, watching her turn around and dive fluidly into the pool.

The next half hour was a constant distraction as I tried to work, while nearby the most beautiful MILF in the world swam laps.

When she got out, it was as if in slow motion, like in that classic 80s movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High, where Phoebe Cates comes out of the pool. My cock again got hard, as she grabbed a towel and asked, “Would you like a lemonade?”

“Sure,” I agreed, wanting her to come back outside, and actually quite thirsty. I also took this time to take off my shirt and showcase my upper body which is very toned.

I worked for a couple of minutes until she returned with a glass of lemonade. She was still in her two piece swim suit and complimented, “Looking good.”

“How can you tell, it’s just a few pieces of wood scattered about?” I joked.

“I wasn’t talking about the shed,” she said, matter-of-factly, before smiling and turning and going back over to the pool, then sitting on a lounge chair.

I reluctantly returned to work. I wasn’t working two minutes, when she called, “Evan, would you be a dear and come give me a hand for a moment.”

“Sure,” I called back wiping my hands on my shorts and going over to her.

She was applying lotion on her body when I reached her. She asked, “Would you please put some lotion on my neck and back?”

It was every teen boy’s fantasy to put suntan lotion on a hot MILF. I, of course, said, “Sure, I’d love to.”

She handed me the lotion, rolled onto her stomach and I sat down beside her. “Could you also undo my bikini top? I don’t want a tan line for my niece’s wedding in a couple of weeks.”

I wondered what outfit she could possibly be wearing that such a tan line would be seen, but I agreed like any horny boy would, “Of-of-of course.”

The bikini easily fell aside and I could now see the sides of her voluptuous breasts. I thought about going for broke right then and there, but decided to just play along, sensing that the inevitable was close. I thoroughly covered her neck, shoulders and back with lotion, massaging gently while I did. She let out a soft moan as I moved lower, to just above her ass.

Deciding to continue to add to the slow seduction we were both performing on each other, I asked, “Aren’t you worried about tan lines on your bottom too?”

“Should I be?” She asked back, playfully.

“Just asking,” I countered, in an attempt to be flirtatious, “I’m not sure what the proper tan line etiquette is honestly.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she said back, lifting up her hips and surprising even me. I watched as she tugged the strings and uncovered her tight ass.

“Agreed,” I barely got out, my fantasy MILF now naked in front of me.

“Can you do my torso area, too?” She asked.

“If you insist,” I agreed, my already hard cock begging for release in my tight shorts. Although I am a confident guy with the ladies, I felt my hands trembling as I poured lotion on her ass and began rubbing it in. It was surreal, and I made sure to lotion her whole ass and down her thighs a bit.

As I was about to finish she said, “Be sure to get my ass crack, hate to have a tan line there.”

“That would be mortifying,” I quipped back, as I coated my finger and put lotion between her ass cheeks. I was so tempted to slide my fingers further between her ass cheeks, all the way to her back door, or to attempt to slide my fingers to her pussy in the small window that existed between her legs…I couldn’t see her pussy, but I did have access to it if I could just get the nerve to take the risk.

As I contemplated all the things I could do to my best friend’s mother, she ended the brief moment of teenage fantasy, “Thanks, sweetie.”

I stammered, drawn back to reality, “N-n-no problem.”

I stood up, stared at her naked beauty briefly, and returned to work, adjusting my cock as I walked.

The next hour, I worked and tried not to spend too much time staring at the naked perfection lying nearby.

Around eleven, she put her bikini top and bottom back on, and wordlessly went back in the house. I was frustrated that I never got a full look at her rack or her pussy. I assumed a woman like her kept it trimmed or shaved, but inquiring minds want to know.

The sexual tension already high in just the first morning, it seemed obvious we both wanted the same thing. I worked the next hour relentlessly, beating my sexual frustrations away, and was just getting ready to go and pick something up for lunch when she came back out, now dressed in a sun dress, five inch heels and, shocking in today’s heat, pantyhose…which is my fetish. Although she is a beautiful woman, I always loved how she often wore pantyhose while in the house, even under her jeans.

“I’m heading out for a while,” she announced.

“I see,” I nodded, asking, “Isn’t it a little hot for pantyhose?”

“Isn’t a little too hot to be wearing a shirt?” She countered.

I laughed, “I just put it on a couple of minutes ago. I was about to go and get a bite to eat and most restaurants have that whole no shirt, no service rule.”

“Such a pity,” she shrugged. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, I left my cell number on the kitchen table in case you need anything.”

“I should be all right,” I shrugged.

“I do mean anything,” she repeated, stressing the word ‘anything’.

“Good to know,” I nodded back, the chess game of sexual seduction continuing.

I watched her leave and followed a couple of minutes later.

I didn’t see her again all afternoon until I was finishing up at around five. I went inside and saw she was on her couch, her stocking-clad feet on the table, her toenails painted purple which was hot, as she watched CNN.

She turned around, hearing me, and asked, “Done for the day?”

“I think so,” I answered, still focusing on her long legs and pretty feet.

“Why don’t you take a seat and visit for a bit?” She offered.

“I’m all dirty and sweaty,” I replied, not wanting to wreck her white furniture.

“I bet you are,” she quipped, the words dripping with sexual implication.

“I need a shower,” I admitted.

“I think I have one of those upstairs,” she smiled playfully.

“Do you?” I joked.

“I have two, actually,” she added, “although the one upstairs in my room has better water pressure.”

“Good to know,” I nodded.

“Go shower,” she ordered, “and I will order some food. I hate eating alone and with Barry gone all week…it’s awful lonely here.”

The offer too good to reject, the likelihood of something happening later growing greater by the moment, I agreed. “Sure, although I don’t have any clean clothes.”

“I’ll get you some,” she said.

I began walking towards the bathroom on the main floor, but she repeated the suggestion, “Go use my shower.”

“Okay,” I agreed, my cock again fully stiff in my pants with anticipation.

I went to her room, to the bathroom, quickly got undressed and jumped in the shower. I wasn’t in there more than a couple of minutes when I heard her voice. “Like the water pressure?”

I froze, ironically lathering my cock at the moment. I finally said, “Yes, it’s very powerful.”

“It’s all steamy in here, you must like it hot,” she quipped, every word dripping with flirtation.

“That I do,” I responded, not being able to see her making it easier to flirt back.

“Do you need any help?” She asked, as she shocked me by joining me in the shower, unfortunately no longer in pantyhose.

My hand around my cock, I again froze…I was now starring at my very naked MILF fantasy…who was completely shaven and even more perfect than I had fantasized.

“Is that for me?” She asked, looking down at my fully erect and still sudsy eight inch cock. “It’s even bigger than I thought it would be.”

I couldn’t talk. I wanted to say something witty like I would to any of the teen sluts I fucked and often dominated, yet I was speechless.

“I’ll take your inability to speak as a yes,” she smiled, dropping to her knees and taking my cock in her hand.

I gasped…my long-held fantasy finally coming true.

As if reading my mind, she asked, “I bet you have fantasized about this moment for a long time, haven’t you Evan?”

I stammered, “Y-y-yes.”

“Did you fantasize this?” She asked, as she learned forward and took my cock in her mouth.

I groaned, “Forever.”

I had never had sex in the shower before, but watching her bob up and down on my cock as water sprayed on us was exhilarating.

Sadly, with the fantasy coming true, and her mouth such pure perfection, I lasted just over a minute before I warned, “I’m going to come.”

Her response was to bob faster and deep throat all eight inches of my cock. It was too much and I spewed my load down her eager throat. She didn’t slow down until every last drop was deposited. Once done, she stood up and said, “What a delicious appetizer.”

Before I could speak, she got out of the shower and added, “I left some clothes for you to put on.”

“Uh, thanks,” I said, bewildered by what had just transpired and by the fact that just as quickly as she had joined me, she had left.

I finished showering in a hurry and got out. On the toilet was a speedo…nothing else. I shook my head amused, dried off and put on the speedo which left nothing to the imagination.

Walking out, I couldn’t find her anywhere. Eventually, I went outside and saw she was in the pool again. She waved me over, “Come for a dip.”

I joked, finally my old confidence back, “Oh, I think I plan to do more than just dip; I plan to do some deep drilling.”

She smiled, “I hope you’re not all talk, no action.”

I joined her in the pool and aggressively kissed her. She responded back with her tongue in my mouth and her hand going directly to my cock, which was already stiff again.

I began cupping her big tits through her thin bikini top. Breaking the kiss, I sat up on the edge of the pool and ordered, “Suck me.”

“Didn’t I already do that?” She asked coyly.

“I want to watch those sexy lips worship my cock,” I said, looking down at her.

“You’re really a naughty boy,” she teased, as she tugged my speedo down.

“And you’re a really sexy slut,” I counted, feeling confident name calling would turn her on.

Once my speedo was off, she devoured my cock, bobbing like many of the teenage sluts who tried to impress me. The difference was she didn’t gag, or slow down, and she got all of me in her mouth.

As she sucked, I told her, “I plan to make you my personal MILF fuck toy all summer, my slut.”

“Mmmmmmm,” she moaned on my cock, not slowing down at all.

After a couple more minutes of watching my MILF fantasy suck cock just as I had envisioned she could, I ordered, “Get naked.”

She took my cock out of her mouth and quickly got out of her bikini top and bottom, tossing both at me…with a devious smile.

I got back in the pool, lifted her up, and slowly lifted her onto my cock.

“Oh God, you’re so strong,” she giggled when I picked her up and she gasped as she realized my intentions as I awkwardly lowered her on my cock. “Oh fuck, I love a man who takes charrrrge.”

“And I love a beautiful woman who understands her place,” I replied, as my cock slowly, the water a great defensive barrier to getting inside her, penetrated her.

“You think I’m beautiful?” She asked, smiling.

“You’re the hottest MILF I know,” I replied, as my mushroom top finally slid inside her.

“Ohhhhh,” she moaned, as I entered her. “I’ve wanted you forever.”

“I know,” I smugly replied, before adding, “I’ve been fantasizing this moment for a long time.”

As my whole cock filled her, she moaned, “Do you know how many times I pleasured myself while you were over, wishing you would sneak into my room and just take me.”

“About as many times as I imagined it,” I quipped back, as I began to fuck her while still holding her.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, “you really are sooooo strong.”

I kept fucking her, even as holding her got gruelling, wanting to impress her. After a few minutes of fucking her she began talking dirty to me: “Fuck, I love your cock,” and “Drill my cunt,” and “Fill my cunt with that big snake of yours,” and “I can’t believe we waited this long,” and “God I love your big cock.”

It was amazing having my fantasy come true, but even hotter hearing her talk so nastily.

Finally my arms burned and I slid out of her as she whined, “No, keep fucking me.”

Deciding to let her do the work for a while, plus wanting to watch those tits bounce, I ordered, as I got out of the pool and sat down on a lounge chair, “Come straddle me.”

She got out of the pool, stared at my completely at attention cock, and joked, “If I ride you I think the whole neighbourhood will hear my screams.”

“Then let the whole neighbourhood hear you scream,” I shrugged.

“You really are a dirty boy,” she smiled, as she straddled me and lowered herself onto my cock.

“And you love it,” I smirked, “Don’t you?”

“God, yessssss,” she moaned as she engulfed my cock.

“I want to see those tits bouncing,” I ordered, as all my cock disappeared inside her cunt.

“You’re a tit man?” She asked, as she cupped them and leaned forward for them to be in my face.

“I’m a tits, cunt, ass and legs man,” I countered, as I took her erect left nipple in my mouth, while simultaneously slapping her ass. “Now ride me, my slut.”

“Yes, sir,” she moaned, as I bit her nipple and she began riding my cock.

I moved from left to right, replicating the nipple attention before leaning back and ordering, “Sit up straight, I want to see that body shake.”

She smiled, “So eloquent.”

I smiled as I watched her ride and bounce. Her tits were perfect as were the moans of pleasure coming from her pursed lips. There is nothing hotter than a woman in the quest for pleasure. Her eyes show hunger, her mouth shows pleasure and her body gives into the lust.

Her moans continued to get louder and I knew she was close to coming when I began bucking up to meet her downward movements.

“Fuuuuuck, yesss,” she screamed, the first time I met her movements.

“Come, my slut,” I grunted, continuing to buck up to meet her.

“God, yes, Evan, I love your cock so fuckiiiing much,” she declared loudly.

“And I love having my own personal fuck toy,” I declared back.

“Oh yes, make me your slutttttt,” she moaned loudly, her breathing getting erratic.

Wanting to fuck her to orgasm, I used my strength to grab her, flip her over like a rag doll, and grab her ankles. With her legs high up in the air I slammed back into her cunt.

“Oh fuuuuuuuck,” she screamed, as I reached new depths inside her hot box. “Oh yes, give me that big dick.”

I obliged, slamming into her.

“Oh fuck, yes, pound me,” she continued, her breathing heavy.

“Are you close?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“Ready to erupttttt,” she moaned.

“I’m going to come in that slut box of yours,” I warned, curious for her reaction.

“Yes, baby, fill my fuck hole with your cum baby, I want it sooo bad,” she replied, as I let go of her ankles. She wrapped her legs around me and began trying to pull me in deeper.

I held back from coming, wanting to climax simultaneously with her, then demanded, “Come, my slut, come for me.”

Her hand slapped her clit and in seconds she screamed, loud enough to not only make her neighbours aware, but to wake the dead, “Yes, you mother fuckerrrrrrrr.”

I grunted too, letting my cum spray inside her, as I thought to myself I was indeed a mother fucker, “Here it comes, sluttttttt.”

I pumped my cum inside her, even as she continued quaking with her own orgasm. “Oh fuck, you’re soooo good,” she moaned.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” I smiled, as I pulled out of her and watched as a mixture of her cum and mine leaked out of her cunt.

“Fuck,” was all she could muster as her body recovered from her orgasm. Finally she said, as my cock finally calmed down, “Maybe we should continue this inside. I’m afraid the neighbours may be wondering if I have been murdered.”

“Or fucked thoroughly,” I quipped.

“Or that, too,” she laughed, standing up.

“You really are fucking hot,” I said, her body so amazing.

“As are you,” she smiled back, putting her hands on my chest.

Suddenly my belly growled, “So did you order food?”

“Still hungry?” She smiled seductively.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” I replied, knowing I had a few loads left in me.

“Fuck I love the recovery time of young men,” she said, stroking my cock.

“If I get hard again before I eat,” I informed her, testing the waters, “the next hole I take is your ass.”

“Is that a promise?” She smiled.

“A one hundred percent guarantee,” I smiled, as I had promised when I said I would have her shed done in three weeks.

“Well, I can’t question such professional dedication,” she flirted, grabbing my hand and leading me into the house.

Once inside, I suggested she order food, which she did. I asked, “I thought you ordered food when I went to shower?”

“I was going to but I decided to just have a cocktail first,” she smiled.

I laughed out loud at her joke, before I snapped my fingers and pointed to my cock. She smirked, “Does that work with the teenage sluts?”

“It works for all sluts who want my cock,” I confidently retorted.

“So it does,” she smiled, as she dropped to her knees in the kitchen and took my cock back in her mouth.

I watched her get my semi-erect cock ready for action before I asked, “Do you have any lube?”

“In the bedroom,” she answered.

“Go get it, I want to fuck you in the kitchen,” I said with authority.

“I want you to fuck me in every room of this house,” she countered, standing up.

“That is a wish I think I can grant,” I smiled, thinking how surreal it would be to fuck my friend’s mom in his bed or on the couch downstairs where we often played ps4.

When she returned, she handed me the lube and asked, “Where do you want me?”

“Bend over the kitchen counter,” I pointed.

She obeyed, and I generously lubed her asshole and my cock. I had only fucked a few girls in the ass and all but one did it reluctantly. The idea that she wanted it in the ass was the ultimate turn-on as I went 3 for 3 in her holes. I moved behind her, spread her ass cheeks apart, and slid my cock, into her ass…her very sexy ass.

She moaned, “Mmmmmm, that’s it sexy, fill my ass with that big dick of yours.”

“Already am,” I moaned myself, her ass so fucking tight.

Once all in, I slowly began moving back and forth, trying to widen her asshole.

She moaned, “That’s it, take my ass, stud.”

“You’re an even bigger slut than I imagined,” I groaned, as I continued the slow pumps.

“And your cock is even bigger than I imagined,” she countered, “and I have imagined it a LOT.”

“As I have you,” I admitted.

“Don’t make love to my ass,” she demanded, “fuck the shit out of it.”

I laughed out loud at her hilarious words, but again obliged, as I grabbed her hips and began slamming into her.

“Oh God, yessss,” she screamed, as I went deep inside her.

“You like that?” I questioned.

“Fucking love it,” she replied, “make me your ass slut.”

“That I will,” I agreed, continuing to slam into her.

I had fucked her hard for fifteen minutes having already come twice, this was going to be a marathon fuck when she asked, “Can I ride you?”

“Sure,” I agreed, curious what she had in mind.

I pulled out, she pushed me onto a kitchen chair, turned her back to me before straddling me and asked, “Can you hold me up?”

“Of course,” I nodded, as she put her feet on my legs while I held her waist, and then lowered herself onto my cock, taking it, amazingly, back in her ass.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” she screamed, as my cock disappeared in her ass again.

This position created a whole new sensation and as she rode my cock, in only a couple of minutes in this position, I could feel my balls boiling.

She frantically was rubbing her clit and she became the first woman I have ever ass fucked who came from it as she screamed, leaning back on me with all her weight, “Fucking holy shiiiiiit,” as she reached orgasm again.

I held her firmly as her orgasm coursed through her. When she was done, I ordered, “Finish me with those cocksucking lips.”

“Okay,” she agreed, weakly, her body obviously drained from her two orgasms.

She slid off, turned on the floor, between my legs and took the cock that was just up her ass in her mouth. The act was so hot, so dirty, so sexy, that my balls immediately returned to boil.

In only a couple more minutes of getting blown by this beautiful MILF, I was ready to cum. I ordered, as I pulled out, “Open wide.”

She obeyed looking even more beautiful with her red cheeks and her wide open mouth waiting to catch my cum. I furiously pumped my cock as she continued to talk dirty, “Come all over your slut’s face.”

Yet again I obliged her wishes, as my cum shot out of my cock, the first rope hitting her directly between the eyes, the second on her cheek as her head moved slightly and the third on her chin…most not going into her mouth.

I slid my cock back between her eager lips and was pumping my cock to allow her to retrieve every last remnant of my cum when the doorbell rang.

She froze.

I pulled out and said. “You should probably get that.”

“Can you?” She asked, suddenly mortified by the cum all over her face.

“Actually you can, and keep that cum on your face,” I ordered, loving the power I had over her.

“Seriously?” She questioned, still on her knees.

“Yes.” I nodded, “a good slut obeys without hesitation and has no shame.”

She licked my cockhead and said with a smile, “You’re really a bad boy.”

“And you love it,” I smirked, as the doorbell rang again.

She stood up, “You know I do.”

She grabbed her purse from the table, and a towel that was on the floor from earlier today I assume, wrapped it around her body and went to the door.

I followed and watched from the side, out of view of the delivery person, as she opened the door. She greeted, “Hi. How much?”

The voice stammered, “T-t-twenty-eight seventeen.”

She went through her purse, gave him money and said, “Keep the change.”

“T-t-thanks,” he stammered again.

She took the food and said, “Come again,” before closing the door.

“Come again,” I roared.

“That was aimed more at you,” she smiled, bringing the food to the table.

“Well, I am a cum machine,” I joked.

“And I’m a cum bucket,” she quipped back, as she dropped to her knees and took my cock back in her mouth.

“Mrs. Robinson,” I groaned, “you are insatiable.”

She moaned in response as she deep throated my cock while I pulled the food out of the bag. As I began eating, while getting sucked, I doubted life ever would ever get any better than this.

The post My Best Friend’s Hot Mom appeared first on sexstories.org.

I peered out of the carriage as it rumbled its way along the rough stone road.

‘This is the beginning of Lord Harestone’s land Miss. It’ll be another five minutes till we reach the Manor.’

Exhausted though I was by this interminable journey, I studied the land. It was bleak with lumpy hills reminiscent of an old hag’s face with the odd tuft of sedge grass. The hillocks were cropped by sheep who stared as we rattled past, then went back to pulling at what nourishment the impoverished earth afforded them. Heavy drips of rainwater spilled off the sheep’s grey wool, and off the edges of the carriage window, splashing on to my cloak. Hunger, the aching cold in my bones and hours of journeying all sapped my strength.

Joy entered my heart as the driver announced, ‘Here we are, Miss. Harestone Manor.’ I stepped out in front of the imposing stone house and pressed precious pennies into the driver’s hand, he’d earned them. He closed his wet glove over them and pulled at his cap. ‘Thank you, Miss. You’ll be staying here a while then, as Governess to Lord Harestone’s heir?’

‘That’s right, at least a year, to complete the young master’s education.’
‘Well, good luck to ’ee.’ The driver handed down my one small bag and I watched as he clambered up and whipped the horses into action. I stood alone. All around me, for miles in the evening half-light brooded the empty sodden heath. Behind me, Harestone Manor. Having come this far, twelve hours ride from home, I would not get away easily, should the position not work out. I shuddered at the thought of being caught in the situation if it did not suit me, but lifted my chin, determined to see it through. After nursing a husband now dead from the coughing sickness and with only few pennies in my purse after paying off his debts, I had no choice. Here was my destiny.

I curled freezing fingers around the bell-pull and heard it clang inside the house, summoning a middle-aged woman. ‘You must be Miss Canning. Welcome. I am Mrs Alderly. My daughter and I keep house for Lord Harestone and the young master. Come and take off that wet cloak or you shall catch your death.’ We walked through a hallway lit by a central chandelier of candles which threw a ruddy light. Mrs Alderly showed me into a warm kitchen. ‘Come now, we’ll place your cloak across the chair to dry. You’ll be hungry after your journey. In future you will dine with his Lordship and the young master but tonight we have for you some hot soup and bread. Then I will show you your room and after that introduce you to your Masters.’

Feeling considerably revived after the steaming meal, I followed Mrs Alderly’s candle up a wide staircase decorated with green wallpaper of an ivy-leafed design. My bedroom was grander than any I had experienced, with a high four- poster bed in the centre. It felt a little odd when Mrs Alderly showed me a connecting door and opening it explained that the young master’s bedroom was attached to mine allowing for constant observation by myself of his movements. For a young child this would be the norm, but my young charge, Master Tom, would be nineteen years old this summer and surely able to look after himself. I thought I had been taken on to refine his education in respect of French and Latin before he entered the Church, not to nursemaid him.

Mrs Alderly left me, saying that I was expected in the front room at eight o’clock to meet Lord Harestone and Master Tom. After checking my grey woollen dress was not much affected by splashes from my journey, and neatening the hair piled on my head,

I ventured downstairs. The front parlour was a comfortable room with a roaring fire in front of which stood the two gentlemen. Lord Harestone, the father, immediately struck me, so much did his presence fill the room. Over six foot tall and wide-shouldered, he blocked the heat from the fire. Pale breeches clung tightly to thighs powerful from country pursuits and I registered that he was well endowed in every way. There was a stern darkness about him. He scrutinised me appraisingly before beckoning me to him.

Next to him stood Master Tom, a long-nosed pale youth utterly lacking the force and presence of his father. The callow youth smiled weakly at me whilst glancing at his father, as if fearful of his reaction.

I curtsied. On my rising, his lordship traced a finger along my jaw line and raised my face to the firelight. ‘What do you think, then, boy? A good choice or not?’ Both men studied me as though I were a prize brood mare.

‘Turn around, Miss Canning and let us observe you better.’ My cheeks burnt red with embarrassment. This intrusive appraisal made me acutely conscious of my figure which was a little too rounded for a woman my age and my rough dress which was all I could afford.

‘She’ll do extremely well, father,’ said the boy, eyes lighting up as if he were choosing buns in the baker’s shop. I swear I even saw him lick his lips.

‘Miss Canning, you will be pleased to hear you have my son’s approval.’

I curtsied, feeling as though I had passed some sort of test.

‘Thank you, sir. I would be pleased if you would outline my duties. You explained in your letter that I am to complete Master Tom’s education. I assumed this was in the classics and languages but perhaps you could elaborate.’

Lord Harestone laughed gently as if I had made some kind of joke. ‘Ah now, Miss Canning, permit me to offer you a seat, and perhaps a small glass of Madeira?’

Lord Harestone’s delay in getting to the point troubled me. I gratefully accepted the Madeira to calm my nerves. I was acutely aware of Master Tom’s eyes constantly upon me, as if he had never seen a woman before. I was also aware as I took the seat and kept my back straight and my legs together, as befits a lady, that Lord Harestone too never took his eyes off me. They roamed from the hem of my skirt, up my legs, over my waist and bosom and down again in far too direct a manner for comfort. His gaze gave me the sensation of being uncovered; so much so that I raised my hand to my chest to ensure my buttons were securely fastened and felt there the rise and fall of my bosom.

I jumped as Lord Harestone spoke again. ‘We discussed a wage in our correspondence, did we not?’

‘Yes sir, my Lord.’

‘I should like to treble it.’

‘But my Lord, why?’ I gasped. I was torn between my delight at this extraordinary news and concern that my duties might be too onerous to complete. Never had I been offered such riches.

‘Miss Canning, I will come to the point. I have a direct nature. My ward,’ he looked over at Master Tom who sat opposite me in silence, ‘has had an expensive education.

He is exceptionally bright and is in all ways ready to enter the Church. He needs no more coaching in normal subjects.’

‘Then why –?’ I stopped, aware that I must not interrupt my employer even though I burned with curiosity.

‘Your role, Miss Canning, and one I am sure you are eminently able to fulfil, is to teach Master Tom the ways of adults. We are so isolated here that Tom has become shy, particularly around women. He knows nothing of their…more intimate ways but he wishes to learn in this, his last year of freedom. He needs to partake of the pleasures of the flesh with one whom he finds irresistible before he enters the church and is denied that pleasure for ever. Tom, I can see, is very taken with you. He admires womanly curves and soft plump skin. In fact I think I can go so far as to speak for him and say that he yearns nightly for feminine charms like yours,’ Lord

Harestone looked over at his ward who nodded eagerly. ‘We will treat you extremely well, you have seen your room. Your only duties will be at night time. In the day you will be free to partake of my extensive library and live the life of a woman of leisure on an extremely good wage. Your only duty will be in educating and pleasuring this young boy. And being pleasured by him.’ I saw a glint in Lord Harestone’s eyes that made me swallow hard.

Hearing his words, my eyes became rounder and rounder. I had been a married woman so was well able to fulfil this task but never had I been asked to perform such extraordinary duties nor offered such wealth. My life of late had been unbearable, living in near poverty, and an escape from it was most appealing. But having the hands of this callow, pale youth upon me, could I cope with that? I looked at the father. So much more commanding than the son, a man any woman would be pleased to take into her bed, with his knowing eyes and masculine figure. Now if only he were the subject of my nightly task I would not hesitate.

Lord Harestone twirled the neck of his glass in sensuous fingers, lifted it to full lips and drained the glass. ‘I can see you are thinking it over; one more thing which may sway you. My son admires fine clothes and likes to see women in them. There is a wardrobe upstairs full of outfits purchased for his ‘governess’ from the seamstresses of Paris. I think you may like to take those into account when you think over our offer. We will leave you now, Miss Canning. If in the morning you have dressed yourself in one of the fine outfits upstairs we will take that as a signal that you accept your duties. If however you are still in the grey woollen garment you stand in now, I will arrange for a coach to be called to take you back home and we will assume you do not want the post. Goodnight.’

Thus dismissed, I retired to my room shocked at the offer made to me. I collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling, my thoughts in turmoil. In the next room, only a thin door separating us, I could hear Tom about his night time ritual. I heard him undress and the creak of the bed as he got into it. I wondered if he thought of me in my bed. I shuddered. Could I possibly allow that boy to make love to me, show him, guide him when I found him to be utterly repulsive. Like a greyhound, he was all skin and bones and angular features. And yet the money I had been offered would solve all my difficulties and allow me to start afresh. Pondering, I rose and went to the wardrobe. Inside were delectable dresses in silks and taffetas. Reds and golds sat alongside deep aquamarine and purple, the skirts a cloud of colour. I buried my face in their finery and rubbed the cool softness of the materials over my poor skin, chapped with cold, neglect and poverty. Opening a drawer, I beheld half a dozen beautifully stitched corsets. I ran my hands over the boning and the laces of one which was a glorious shade of turquoise. I lifted it up and held it against myself in the mirror. It was a work of art and I knew that if I were to wear it I too would feel like the most precious object. The fact that I would be pawed by that creature next door, who gave me a feeling of sickness every time I thought of him, was something I could possibly learn to block out.

I released the pins in my chestnut hair, felt it tumble heavily down my shoulders and lay myself down on the crisp cotton sheets. My mind was made up. However disagreeable I found Master Tom, I would accept my fate.

At dawn, after washing myself in the bowl provided, I opened the wardrobe again. The glare of the colours was even greater in the morning light. As I again fingered the turquoise corset there was a gentle knock on my door. I gathered my nightdress about me suspicious it might be Master Tom come to gain his prize early. But it was a young girl who announced herself as Sarah, Mrs Alderly’s daughter, and offered me help as a lady’s maid in dressing. Never had I had the luxury of a lady’s maid. As she assisted me into a fine muslin shift which fell over my breasts and would protect the fine silk of the corset from the oils of my skin I began to warm to my part. I did not have to like Master Tom to teach him, but I did enjoy the feel of the corset as Sarah laced me in. A pleasant sensation of constriction, like a frighteningly tight embrace overcame me as Sarah pulled harder and harder. My breasts overflowed like velvet-skinned apricots over the tight boning and my buttocks appeared lush and full underneath the tight silk. ‘These are the latest corsets from France, ma’am, with little suspenders to hold up your stockings. Here let me help you on with these silk stockings.’

The feel of the material against my ankles, then my knees and finally halfway up my thighs, delicately rolled and pushed up my legs by Sarah, made my legs tingle. I watched the girl kneeling as she clipped the stockings into their holdings after which she laced up my boots and helped me into a white muslin day dress. Never had my waist appeared so pinched and tiny and never had I been so acutely aware of my breasts pushing and straining over the top of my dress. As the corset pressed against the pubis at the bottom of my stomach I felt a sensation of desire for animal satisfaction which had never affected me before.

I went down to breakfast and witnessed Master Tom’s evident admiration at my hourglass figure and delight that I was staying. I almost expected him to salivate at the mouth in anticipation of his coming night’s education. I was given the freedom of the house and, as I moved about, became aware of eyes upon me. Looking around, I caught not Master Tom, but Lord Harestone, staring blatantly at my form. I stood examining a book in his library at the time. Whether some devilment had entered me in my fine new clothes I cannot say. But, aware of his Lordship’s eyes burning into me, I reached as high as my constricting undergarments would allow, and purposefully revealed a well turned ankle in black silk. Lord Harestone stared, smiled and walked away.

The evening came, dinner was done with, and feeling as though I were jumping into a pool of cold water, I announced to Master Tom that he and I should now go upstairs and begin his education. I felt very ill-disposed towards him, as if I wanted to tell the poor naive creature off for his lack of knowledge. At the top of the stairs I ordered him into his bedroom and commanded he kneel by the side of his bed and wait for me. Going into my room, I breathed deeply, feeling nauseous at the thought of his hands upon me, and trying desperately to summon up the courage for my task. My beautiful skirt swished as I walked across the room and just as I was about to enter through the open connecting door, I noticed a door at the other end of Master Tom’s room. Through the narrow slit I could just make out Lord Harestone, seated, his eyes directed at his young ward.

Of a sudden, a warmth spread through me and a pleasurable sensation shot up between my stockinged legs, moistness creaming my maidenhood. I had to squeeze my legs together as I walked, to stop the liquid dripping down my legs, as I imagined Lord Harestone’s eyes following me across the room. Acutely aware of his gaze, I did not give away that I knew his secret but looked down only at the kneeling Master Tom. Tom’s eyes looked up at me like a spaniel’s and I watched a flickering nerve tick at his temple. I moved around him, holding him with my gaze until I was sure I was in the best position for Lord Harestone to
view our antics.

‘Lift up my skirts.’ I commanded in a harsh voice. Tom’s hands fumbled at the layers in his eagerness. My heart quickened, not at Tom’s inept touch, but at the knowledge that as my legs were being uncovered, Lord Harestone leant forward in his secret place, in order to see me better.

‘Stay kneeling. Don’t you dare do anything until I tell you,’ I barked. Tom nodded his head, petrified and bewitched as he stared at my ankles, my knees and finally the ivory whiteness of my thighs bulging out of the stockings. ‘You may kiss my thighs,’ I said. The boy held my leg as if it were a soft feathered bird and pressed his hot lips against it. Like a starving man, he slavered and sucked. I watched the top of his head as he got carried away and saw him breathe deeply, enjoying my scent. I spread my legs a little wider, tempting him in but when he moved his mouth over my labia I slapped him hard on the cheek.

‘How dare you presume to do anything before I tell you.’ Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lord Harestone smile wickedly, enjoying my harshness. I directed my gaze at Tom but kept Lord Harestone in my sights as I leant down and kissed poor Tom, the pink marks of my hand on his cheek. ‘There, there, don’t be upset. Tell me what you’d like to do.’

His voice came so quiet I could barely hear although I knew what he said. ‘Louder,’ I demanded. ‘Speak louder boy, tell me what you want to do.’

‘Lick you,’ came his voice. ‘Go on then.’ I ordered.

Still kneeling, he moved around until his head was under my cunny and pressed his face upwards. As his pink tongue came out and the tip dipped into my juices I let out a moan of satisfaction, loud enough for Lord Harestone to hear and saw, with satisfaction, Lord Harestone’s hand move to rub the front of his britches. I held the back of Tom’s head, forcing him rhythmically up and down, pressing him into me. He slurped and pawed at my thighs, his tongue darting in and out. I used him to work around my sex again and again, riding on his face and savouring the pleasure of watching Lord Harestone’s brooding stare as his Lordship continued to rub himself.

‘Give me your finger.’ I commanded to Tom.

Still sucking at me, the boy put his finger slowly towards me and gasped, as I used it to mop up the trickle down my thigh and then buried his finger deep into my waiting redness as high as it would go. I had to congratulate the boy here. Instinct made him push his finger in and out without instruction and when he felt me get comfortable on it, he pushed a second finger in, stretching me most agreeably. Still laced up tightly, I felt as if my breasts would burst out of their confines: they were becoming so swollen, the nipples painful against the edge of my corset and straining against the thin muslin.

I now felt uncontrollable with desire. I knew I needed a real man inside me. This simpering youth was acceptable for starters but I was so heated I felt I would go mad without proper fulfilment. The time for subtlety was over. I turned blatantly to Lord Harestone. His secret was a secret no more. I watched petrified as, still seated, he kicked the door open with his foot. Tom barely flinched so intent was he on drinking my nectar. Lord Harestone ripped open the panel on the front of his britches and displayed a jutting, magnificently veined erection. Getting up, he strode over to where

I stood, and Tom knelt. Standing next to me, he pulled my hair back, and prised open my lips with his tongue, thrusting it viciously into my mouth. I kissed him back, wild with desire. With Tom still pleasuring me with his tongue, Lord Harestone moved his fingers over the muslin at my breasts and tore it away exposing my jutting bosoms topped with hard sensitive nipples. He took one feverishly in his mouth and nipped it in his teeth making me cry out with ecstasy. Once it was moist he took it between thumb and forefinger and rolled it like a cigar. Taking my other nipple, he sucked it mercilessly till it reddened and peaked. Once my breasts were fully sensitised, Lord Harestone moved around behind me, and pressed himself against me. His huge throbbing member forced up against my buttocks. He pushed me over the bed till I was bent double and commanded me to hold on to the bed rail, which I did to steady myself. His knee between my legs prised me open, spread-eagling me still wider.

Tom stopped for a moment to wipe his mouth and take his fingers out of my aching cunny. Then, taking the initiative, while Lord Harestone positioned himself behind me, Tom gently fingered my fanny and gazed lasciviously at the swollen red sex lips. Poking out his tongue he licked me with the whole length of it, flicking it mercilessly over my point of ecstasy. Driven to distraction, I clung on to the bedpost, my buttocks jutting upwards, the tight corset cutting into my flesh, waiting for Lord Harestone to enter me. Shockingly I felt his almighty prick drive into me as he gripped my shoulders, his fingers digging in. He pummelled me back and forth, panting like a demon possessed. Tom’s licking became more urgent as Lord Harestone drove his cock deeper. Lord Harestone moved his hands to grip my breasts, pinching the nipples between his fingers, giving me the most mind- numbing sensation of being totally and utterly dominated.

With the two men gasping and pushing, sucking and thrusting, I felt my eyes flicker and my swollen sex peak into a shuddering, bursting orgasm. Just after I came, Lord Harestone gripped my hair and yelled as he pumped his load into me, his seed running down my legs.

Thus began the best year of my life. Each night was a journey. Each one longer than the last. Tom proved an apt pupil, and an interested observer when my Lord and I allowed him the privilege of watching us sate our passions on each other. Tom is now a pastor at a small parish many miles from here. And me? I stayed on, for why would I not? The educator became the educated at Lord Harestone’s fine hand. And yes, dear Reader… I married him.

The post Educating Master Tom appeared first on sexstories.org.

Swimming always gets me going. Blood pumping through these sluggish old veins after being holed up in the holiday cottage with a load of rutting couples. I love it when the water’s cold and rough. Far out there a couple of surfers are wrestling with the waves. Here the beach is deserted.

And now I’ve earned a kip. The sun’s really warm after the cold water. I whip my bathing suit off and flop down onto my towel but my heart’s still drumming, my body still buzzing. I turn on my back, stretch my legs out, point my toes to make them look longer. Hmm, still pretty good.

A breath of air tickles my slightly parted fanny. I open my legs a little more. I grope about in the sand to find my oil, but I can’t find it. My hand flops back onto my bare stomach and the touch electrifies me. I move my fingertips down to the hairless groove running along the top of my thigh and that makes me jump, too. The skin is the largest organ of the human body, and boy is it the most sensitive.

There’s another place, though. So sensitive it could make me come with a butterfly kiss. My hand wanders back up to my breast, just brushes the top, avoiding the nipples. They swell out luxuriantly. My stomach flutters.

I drop my hands. Is it possible to tease yourself? The sun rests on my eyelids while my hand drags back to my stomach. I move it in circles, frantic messages puckering up my nipples. My stomach tightens. My thighs fidget on the towel, open up wider. I fan my fingers, catching at a hardening nipple, and sidle the other hand downwards to the warm nest of hair. My fingers tangle in the wet curls, pulling strands, feeling each hair tug on the tender skin.

My middle finger extends down the crack and I half gasp, half giggle at the moist blood-heat warmth just inside the lips. That’s not just damp from the sea although I wonder what it would taste like now. I wiggle my finger, feeling the sliver of sensitive flesh. I shock it into tingling response. I moan softly, sure that the sound is only in my ears.

A shadow crosses my face and I swear, thinking a cloud is obscuring the sun. But it’s too solid for that. There’s a tall shape a couple of feet away. Surely not the others, come to spy on me from the cottage? I raise myself up on my elbow, ready to give them hell. My breast bounces against my arm. I raise one knee to get myself upright and a droplet of juice runs out of my crack and across my thigh.

It’s not my friends. It’s one of the surfers. His short wetsuit is rolled down his torso and he has his back to the sea. He can see me clearly, but I’m half blinded by the glare. I raise one hand to shield my eyes and take a good look at him. Sex on legs. Like something out of a beer advert. He’s lithe and tanned. His face is young. So young. Tiny gold prickles of barely shaved stubble speckle his brown cheeks. Hectic flushes of blood are just visible under the skin. Is he blushing?

I try to remember myself at his age. It wasn’t so long ago, for God’s sake. He’s seventeen, eighteen. Maybe nineteen. Definitely a boy and yet his body has been worked on. Hard. No ounce of puppy fat. His arms are big with muscle.
I let my eyes flutter back to his face. I open my mouth to speak, but he’s not about to make small talk. His bright blue eyes are fixed on my big breasts, hanging there in the sunshine. I must look like some kind of nude sculpture there on the towel. I suppose I could always pretend I’m one of those naturists.

But the naturists always claim there’s nothing sexual about nakedness, don’t they? What bollocks. I reckon this boy’s nakedness would be a blatant invitation to a shag-fest. His eyes are burning on me and my nipples harden as if agreeing with my assessment. They shrink into tight little arrowheads. Pointing directly at my young stranger.

The young man/boy swallows, getting the message. He scuffles his bare feet in the sand. Shit. He’s trying to get away. I want to stretch out and stop him. But no. He’s just planting them more firmly in that kind of swaggering stance young men have. Through his tight wet suit I can see his groin bulging against the black cloth. I want to rip it off here and now. I want to know what’s going on underneath.

‘Surf up today?’ I suddenly ask into the sizzling silence. I can imagine my mates up at the cottage giggling at my lousy attempt at surf-speak. ‘I thought there were two of you out there.’

He nods, and tosses his head back towards the waves. His hair is beginning to dry into bleached strands.

‘My brother’s still out there. I got a cramp.’ ‘I can see that.’

The fluttering in my stomach is back with a vengeance. No, forget fluttering. Nothing lady-like about this sensation. It’s twisting and tightening with total lust. I can’t believe I’m still sprawled here like some kind of centrefold. Usually I would have lifted the towel by now to cover myself up. I’d have made some shy, dismissive remark to send him on his way, but right now his glowing stare and his unmistakeable hard-on are just too good to waste. I’m not letting this opportunity pass. Apart from anything else, I intend to dine out on it tonight. The others will never believe me.

‘Want some lemonade?’ God, I sound like his aunt.

‘My dad says you should never accept drinks from strangers,’ he croaks with a lopsided grin, and I laugh. How sexy is that grin? How sexy is it that we’re strangers? I take the bottle from the cool bag and wave it at him.

‘I say you’re big enough to look after yourself.’ I’m still laughing. I pat the towel beside me. He steps closer. I’m making him feel safe. He leans across me, and swigs from the bottle. ‘So,’ I go on, my voice husky with laughter and desire. ‘Do you know this part of Devon?’

‘No. It’s my first time.’

Colour floods his cheeks even more as he says it, and this time I rein in my dirty chuckle. I quietly take the lemonade from him, keeping my green eyes calmly on his burning blue ones, and without wiping his spittle off the neck of the bottle I flick my tongue round the wet rim before tilting my head back to take a deep swallow. Now his eyes are on my throat as the cold liquid swishes down. This is like something out of a movie.

‘I mean, it’s the first time we’ve been down to this coast,’ he stammers. ‘Dad’s rented a place for the summer. He insisted we come here this year. Normally we go to Constantine Bay, in Cornwall. The surf’s miles better over there. So’s the surfing crowd. I mean, it’s just dead round here, isn’t it?’

‘That depends what you’re after,’ I remark lazily. The bottle is still hovering above my open mouth as if I’m about to give it head. I lick it again, turning myself on with the suggestive swipe of my tongue. Then I wrap my lips round the long cool shape and swallow a little more. His Adam’s apple jumps. I screw the top back on. On an impulse I put the bottle not back in the cool bag but between my legs, resting it up against my pussy. I can’t stifle a gasp as the cold plastic meets the sensitive, warm flesh. I lean back, letting it rest there, restraining myself from grabbing it and rubbing it up and down my hot slit like a sex toy. The urge won’t go away. But then, nor will the boy. My voice comes out in a low moan. ‘There’s plenty to entertain you if you know where to look.’

‘I’m beginning to realise that–’ Without the bottle the boy doesn’t know what to do with his hands. So he starts rolling the wetsuit back up his stomach.

‘It’s too nice out here today to cover yourself up. It may not be the Med, but this lovely weather has got to be a record for Devon. Sit down for a moment. Like you said, there’s nothing to do round here. So there’s no rush, is there?’

‘No rush,’ he echoes, and his young voice dips violently into a deep manly timbre, at odds with his adolescent face. My cunt gives a couple of uncontrollably cheeky twitches, practically nudging the bottle away as I watch him wrestle with the twin urges to come and sit near me or to stand there and remain cool.

Time to be a little less obvious. I relent and draw my legs up, so that my pussy is temporarily hidden from his confused, hungry gaze, but the movement brings the bottle harder against me, its long shape pushing between my sex lips and nudging the tiny bud of my clit. I grip it with my legs and feel the droplets of condensation mingling with my own sweat and moisture.

I’m getting breathless again, as if I was still swimming. I want to show the boy what I can do with the bottle, but it’s too soon. I hitch myself up the towel, pulling my shoulders back in an effort to look more sophisticated, but that just thrusts my breasts out so that his baby-blue eyes, which are still struggling to remain politely focused on my face, swivel back to watch the tightening of my red nipples.

‘It may be a bit quiet, but where else can you get quite so close to nature, after the city smoke? I expect that’s what your dad was after,’ I whisper, trying not to giggle out loud with delight. Something is still warning me to act very calm, sit very still so as not to alarm him. ‘That’s why I’m stretched out here, starkers. Never do that in London, do you? Hope you don’t mind me being topless like this?’

He shakes his head violently, like a little boy trying not to tell a lie, and at last, like an animal tempted in from the wild, he squats down, just by my feet. He rubs the salty strands of yellow hair off his hot face.

‘So. You here on holiday, or what?’

He’s giving in. He can’t take his eyes off my tits, even though he’s attempting to make conversation. I know my nipples are harder and darker now and impossible to ignore. Neither of us really wants to talk, do we? It’s as if he’s in a sweet shop with no pocket money. His tongue slides across his white teeth and he gulps. I keep my smile faint but encouraging.

‘It’s a mixture,’ I answer. ‘Work, and play.’ ‘So which is this bit? Work, or play?’

A soft wind comes off the sea and ruffles his hair. He swipes it impatiently out of his eyes. My own hair tickles my face, and the wind caresses my bare skin like delicate fingers.

‘Oh, that’s easy. Play,’ I whisper, not sure if he can hear. ‘This bit is definitely play.’

I tilt forwards on to my knees, the bottle still clamped there. I pause for a moment as he blinks, focusing on the big tits bouncing right there in front of him as if they were ice creams on offer. Then I pick up one of his large hands from where it’s digging frantically about in the sand. I lift it like it’s a warm animal and place it on one swollen breast. My nipple spikes against his palm. His mouth drops open. My head falls back as his fingers close harder, making it ache. I spread my knees a little to balance more comfortably in front of him, dislodging the bottle. I lean back on the towel so that my spine is arched and my breasts are pushing at him, jumping up with each heartbeat.

The dry grass rustles in the slight breeze, and far away the waves curl with a collective sigh onto the beach. Both the boy and me are panting. My tits disappear into his hesitant fingers. His blue eyes blaze with a crazy request. Christ, it’s enough to make me melt. Of course you have permission, my precious. I’m practically begging you!

My head feels heavy. The only energy is fizzing between my legs. I’m ready to let him take and thrust and pummel. I want to make him into a man. I have privacy, sunshine, a boy with the body of a god waiting for me to show him the way. And all the time in the world.

Lust is eating me up. His fingers dig into my breasts, wander across them and squeeze them, push them together, letting them fall, playing with them, staring at the rigid raspberry nipples. Then I kneel up and place my hands on his shoulders and push my tits into his eager face. I want him to nuzzle in, I want him to lick, suck, bite. Yes. I can tell he’s never seen anyone as luscious as me. A real woman. I want this to be what he’ll write home about, remember for ever. I want to smother him. He buries his face between my breasts, pressing them into his cheeks. Then he draws back. I cup one breast and offer it. I rub its taut dark nipple across his mouth. His tongue flicks out tentatively. My knees wobble and I clutch more firmly to his shoulders. My tit is angled right into his mouth.

He licks the nipple again, and his hands squeeze my breasts until they sing with delicious pain. Hands that a few minutes ago had been wrestling with a surfboard. Then his soft lips nibble up the little nub of the nipple, the tongue laps round it. He draws the burning bud into his mouth, pulling hard on it, and begins to suck. I cradle his bleached blond head, the salt water dried in granules and flecked white across his cheek bones. I could stay like this forever. His sucking makes my whole body ripple with desire.

I look away over his head, across the dunes and over the ocean, distancing myself, seeing us like a movie or a photograph, but his mouth, his teeth, keep pulling at the aching nipple and pulling me back. Electrical currents streak from my nipples to my empty, waiting cunt.

He has the other breast up by his face now. He’s turning from one to the other, lapping and sucking, snuffling through his nose to breathe, groaning, biting and kneading harder and harder as if he owns my breasts. It’s never enough to suck just one. They both have to be stimulated, and, boy, is he getting the hang of it. God, it’s going to be earth-shattering when I get him inside me.

He’s rougher, more ferocious, already more confident. I grind against him, daring him, searching for more pain to communicate more pleasure. I plant my knees on either side of his so that I’m straddling him, and still have his head crushed between my tits. I push him backwards so that, still sucking on my nipples, he’s lowered onto the sand. Now I’m on top of him, my tits dangling down like heavy fruit dented by his brown fingers. I tilt my pussy towards his groin and rub against his wet suit. The rough material is glorious, grating on my skin.

And I can feel the length of his dick. Still pushing my tits in his face, don’t ever want him to stop, I grab at the wet suit and start to roll it off him like a second skin. He raises his hips obligingly. So sweet. He does that so eagerly and readily. Does he realise how big his fucking gorgeous erection is? I yank everything down and his cock thumps free, juddering out from the rough tangle of blond curls, pulsating golden brown like the rest of him. God, it’s a work of art. Its surface is smooth like velvet, the mauve plum emerging from the soft foreskin which wrinkles back to show itself all gleaming. This gorgeous cock thumps into my hand. Now it’s my turn to fold my fingers round something, and as I do it he bites my nipple so hard that I scream out with delight. I lean over him.

‘Just take a little break. Try something new,’ I whisper, both to myself and to him. I start to wriggle back down his body so that his head follows for a moment, still attached to my nipples. Then he falls back as I slither down towards his groin and he can only grab at my wet hair. I reach his dick, standing up like a beacon. The tip is already beading in anticipation. A fresh stick of rock.

I open my mouth and draw his cock into it, using my teeth as well as my tongue, draw it all in until the boy’s knob knocks at the back of my throat.

He makes a sound, exquisitely shocked. His buttocks clench as I suck on him, nibbling down to the base of his shaft and licking and sucking the sweet length of it. He starts to buck about, groaning in amazement. I wonder if any of his pert little girlfriends give head like this. I doubt it. After all, I didn’t have much of a clue at this age. I want him to think he’s died and gone to heaven. Any minute now I’m going to heaven, too.

As I suck, I rub my tits and pussy up and down his legs. He pulls at my hair. I have to slow myself down, because we’ll both come too soon. I don’t want to waste this golden moment by coming all over his shinbone. My pussy is clenching frantically now. I’m leaving slicks of juice all over him.

I give his dick one last, long suck, pulling it towards my throat and nipping it with my teeth, then I let it slide along my tongue, out through my nipping teeth. Greedily I clamber back on top of him as he struggles up, seeking out my tits. I press him down on his back, tilting myself over him. We’ve moved some way from the towel now.

‘See how beautiful it is,’ I croon at him, showing him the length of his shaft encircled by my fingers. ‘See how well it’s going to fit.’

I smile as I raise myself on my knees and aim the tip of his cock towards the warm hole hidden in my soft bush. I let it rest there, at the opening, just like I did with the lemonade bottle, just nudging it past my wet sex lips. I wait. I smile again, lowering myself a little more, gasping as each inch goes in. I reach under him to cup his balls in one hand and he groans again.

This tension is ecstasy, but I can’t hold on to it for much longer, and slowly, luxuriously, I let the boy’s knob slide up inside, all the way to the hilt. It’s so tempting to ram it, let our hips start jerking, but once it’s right in I force myself to pull away again. He frowns, perhaps thinking I’m rejecting him, but I just ease myself down again, moaning and tossing my head back, and the next time I do that he’s with me, learning fast, pulling his own hips back, waiting when I wait.

I sigh out with the joy of being fucked by something so big and hard after months of sitting on the sidelines. As I bend over to let my tits swing across his mouth again, his eyes flip sideways and his face freezes. His hands jam onto my hips and hold me still. I don’t move. I don’t want to. But I see another shadow falling across his face.

‘Oh, piss off, guys!’ I shout, without looking round. ‘Go back to your poker game!’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it! This looks like a hell of a lot more fun than poker!’

A male voice, very similar to my boy’s, speaks from somewhere above and behind us. I go hot and cold. I try to read the boy’s expression. Then there’s the unzipping sound of another wet suit, and the boy’s eyes widen. First he shakes his head furiously, and then a filthy grin spreads across his face. Not a grin I’ve seen before. He looks at me in a different way. Kind of domineering. I’m thrown off balance. Already he’s learning. Glancing at the newcomer, the boy knocks my breasts from side to side.

‘My older brother,’ he croaks. ‘Back from the surf.’

He pulls me forwards, jamming my tits into his mouth again, and now my backside is up in the air. I want to protest but I can’t move. My butt is all exposed, bouncing in front of his brother, but so gorgeous is the feel of my boy’s almost aggressive mouth sucking on my sore nipples that I can’t stop him. As first one nipple then the other grinds into his mouth I automatically start up the rhythm again. I’m acutely aware of my new audience. It’s unutterably sexy to be watched.

I slide up and down his cock, showing off now. My muscles tighten each time to grab hold and keep him inside, and his cock is hardening even more with each thrust.

I’m just poised to ram down onto him harder than ever when my butt cheeks are pulled apart and another male body presses up against my back.

‘Can’t let you have all the fun, bruv,’ says the voice. ‘Reckon I want a go.’

‘You’ve got some catching up to do, mate. Bloody well wait your turn.’

The first boy pulls me harder down on top of him, ramming me right up inside.

‘You don’t mind me watching, do you?’ his brother murmurs in my ear, still fondling my buttocks.

‘No,’ I puff, barely able to speak. ‘Don’t mind.’

There’s something else going on here, too. I can recognize sibling rivalry when I see it, or rather sense it. It’s not that different from the ‘friendly’ rivalry between me and my mates up at the cottage. Our parlour games are never going to be the same after this.

I’m dizzy now, knowing I’m being watched. Who knows? Maybe the crowd up at the cottage will be down any minute, join the audience. See me in a whole new light. I gyrate as if dancing on the boy’s pole, flinging myself wildly about. The urge for satisfaction and the loss of control starts to overwhelm me.

The invisible brother is right behind me, touching me everywhere. I fall onto the rigid cock inside me and the orgasm is gathering. My moans are snatched into the sea air as I rock frantically. My boy can’t hold back and it’s spurting out of him and I’m bucking in my own orgasm.

‘Can’t let you corrupt my little brother and get away with it,’ the older brother says, pulling us apart. ‘Reckon you need teaching, too.’

He parts my legs, gets his own cock out. I try not to smile too greedily as we all lie on the sand while the tide encroaches up the beach and the seagulls wonder what the fuck these tourists are up to.

The post On The Beach appeared first on sexstories.org.

This week began like any other week, I would leave the warehouse at four thirty in the morning and begin deliveries to grocery stores and restaurants throughout the area. By the time I reached Grove City, around seven thirty, it was time for breakfast. From time to time I would have to cover someone else’s route and not stop at Cheryl’s Diner, but not very often. In the two plus years I’d been stopping I was generally waited on by Francine or Michelle, not today, an older lady was asking if I wanted coffee before ordering.

“Where are Francine and Michelle? They have the day off?”

“Well sir, neither work here any longer, Friday was their last day, Francine is moving to Daytona Beach to be closer to her kids and Michelle landed a job in Cuba City at a large distribution warehouse. I usually work from three until seven evenings, now I’m covering early mornings. So … coffee, or would you like to look at the menu?”

“Nope, won’t need a menu. I’ll have the haystack without onions and a glass of milk with the meal, honey wheat toast.”

“Sounds like you’ve eaten here before.”

“Nearly every Monday through Friday for over two years. I noticed there’s no strawberry jam, can you remedy that?”

She offered a soft smile along with, “Certainly, anything I can do to help.”

Having lived in the south the past several years I was used to the normal hon, shug, babe, baby or sweetie from southern waitresses, this lady was southern, but she was different. I smiled and tipped my hat as I watched her walk away. She was good looking for an older broad, quite conservative in her dress but attractive in her own right, most of the waitresses would be in jeans and a somewhat revealing top. Apparently cleavage increases the size of the tip.

Her nametag said Elma, and unlike the other gals she was dressed like waitresses used to, a light blue cotton dress with white piping around the sleeves and neckline, a neckline that was open but not enough to look inside. The one unusual thing I did notice was that the hem of her dress was probably three inches above her knees and that she wore stockings. I estimated she must be in her late fifties, maybe sixty. She had a slender figure, sort of average I guess, a cute hinder that twitched a little as she walked away, or did she do that for my benefit. Her chest wasn’t big but then it wasn’t small either, what I’m trying to say is she was put together nicely.

Unlike so many older ladies it was apparent she had let her hair color naturally, it was mostly a silverish grey with a smattering of brown every so often. It was long by most standards, well over her shoulders and while not as thick as a young woman’s hair it was still full. I was surprised she wasn’t wearing glasses, most older people do, maybe she used contacts.

Waiting for my food I momentarily drifted back to how I’d come to live in the south. I had ended up moving after my long-time life companion decided she was leaving me for a much younger model. Though we’d been together thirteen years Sherry and I had never married, I had proposed more than once, each time she said no but wanted to stay together. In my eyes we were married whether we had a certificate or not. Not so in hers I guess. For my thirty third birthday she took me out for a lavish steak dinner and introduced me to her new lover wondering if wanted to be part of a polyamorous relationship.

When I got out of jail forty-five days later I decided to move. Not across town, across country. Since I’d done no permanent harm to her new lover the DA showed mercy and charged me with a misdemeanor instead of a felony, which meant I could keep my CDL. I happily left the ice and snow of North Dakota, trading it for the heat and humidity of Northwest Georgia. Once I got past the culture shock and learned how to decipher Southern ese, (my God these people talk fast) I felt good about the move. Yes, it was hot and sticky four to five months a year, but compared to ice, snow, and temps at or below freezing five to six months a year, I figured I had the better deal.

I’d been driving big rigs all my adult life with a perfect driving record, finding work wasn’t an issue, I had lined up the position I presently occupied prior to ever moving. I was tired of the long hauls and decided running a steady daily route would be more in line with what I wanted life to be. I lived in an apartment complex complete with a pool, laundry facility, a fitness/workout room, a hot tub, and more lonely housewives than you can shake a stick at. Then there were the divorcee’s, the lonely heart singles, the downright homely, and last, but not least, the “I hate all men” club.

At thirty-four I must have been considered prime material because I had an abundance of women, married and otherwise, who let it be known they were ready to be wooed and screwed by yours truly. I have to admit I did avail myself of said provisions more than once, okay, okay, sometimes more than once a week. I stayed away from the married one’s as much as possible, the key words there being “as much as possible”. In the two years and seven months I’d been living there I’d only bedded three housewives. Two of which had abusive husbands and a third whose husband never grew up, he spent most of his free time with his high school buddies, all in their late twenties.

I’d met all three at the laundry facility, the first two were obvious, I showed them some kindness, they in turn wanted to be wanted without being abused. The second one of those nearly landed my ass back in jail, thankfully her soon to be ex was too drunk to remember who’d kicked the shit out of him. Within a week of his ass whooping she had vanished, her girlfriend said she’d gone back to Iowa and was filing for divorce. Smart girl, no one should have to put up with that shit.

The third was lonely, plain and simple, feeling neglected, unwanted, undesirable, and had basically accepted she was destined for a shitty life with an idiot husband. It started out quite innocent, we talked, she shared dreams and aspirations, we learned of one another’s past, it got to be a regular thing every Thursday night. That was the slowest night of the week at the laundry for some reason, it was usually Emily and me along with one or two others.

To keep my horns trimmed I’d been banging two divorcees across the complex on occasion, I didn’t hide it, but it wasn’t common knowledge either. Emily and I were near being done with our laundry one Thursday, folding clothes and putting them in a basket. She was generally very careful when she folded her underwear and put away her bras, she usually had her back turned to me. This evening was different, as she folded several pair of small lacy panties facing me I was without the will power to look away.

“Do you like those Paul?”

Feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar I quickly looked down in embarrassment.

“It’s okay Paul, it really is. I bought them thinking he might stay home and be with me instead of running with his high school friends. It didn’t work, I even bought a slinky see through nightie. You know what the idiot said when I walked down the hall wearing nothing under it as he watched TV? Get some clothes on, you’ll be cold in that get up.”

I couldn’t wrap my head around such stupidity, had she done that in my home I’d have jumped her bones and rode her hard all night. My mouth must have been hanging open, smiling she put her finger under my chin and lifted it.

“What would you do with a woman like me Paul? Be honest.”

I thought, what the hell, I might get my face slapped, but I was going to tell her exactly what I was thinking.

“I would have jumped off that couch, put you over my shoulder and slapped your ass a few times as I carried you to the bedroom, I would have tossed her your sexy ass onto the bed and stripped, my face would have been between your legs so fast it would take your breath away. After you came on my face a few times I would have slid up your body and driven my cock inside so deep you’d choke, while I pumped you I’d be sucking your tits until you screamed as I filled your little kitty with sperm. Is that clear enough?”

Her face was red as a fire hydrant, good thing there were no dogs around. Her breathing was shallow and staggered, almost as if she were hyperventilating. Putting her hand to her chest she looked in my face.

“Really? You would do all that? Oh my, I’ve been missing out. Listen, I’m not a slut, but would you do that to me? Please? He’ll be gone fishing all weekend.”

I agreed telling her to come in the patio door to the back so as not to give the gossips anymore ammunition than they already possessed. I asked if she’d like to go out somewhere, she blushed a little.

“No, I want you to do with me what you said. Should I bring my see-through nightie along? Paul … I don’t shave. Will that be an issue?”

“It won’t be for me, I like a woman who looks like a woman. And yes, absolutely bring that nightie and some of those sexy panties, we won’t be naked the entire weekend.”

She had a surprised look on her face, “Wait, you want me to stay the weekend? Are you sure?”

“I am if you are Em, I’d love to ravish your body all weekend. That way the smell of sex can be in my apartment and not something you have to explain when your worthless husband gets home. We’ll quit early enough so you can get home to shower, douche and change.”

Another surprised look, “Douche? I haven’t done that in ages. Why?”

“Because a man knows if his wife’s pussy is full of cum, and if he hasn’t been with her he knows it’s somebody else’s cum, if he happens to get home horny you’ll be safe.”

More blushing, “Pussy, he never calls it my pussy, it’s always a vagina. I like pussy better, it’s not so clinical sounding. What time Friday?”

“I’m home by three at the latest, any time after that. I’ll cook supper, you bring the ice cream.”

We were the only ones present during our rather revealing conversation, she stood, grabbed her basket, leaned down to kiss me and whispered. “Tomorrow at four, leave the patio doors unlocked. I’m all tingly inside, I can hardly wait.”

I drove Friday’s route from habit, my mind was anywhere but on the job, I couldn’t get her out of my head. How the hell could any guy ignore a beautiful young thing like that? She never dressed provocatively but it was quite apparent she was well endowed in all aspects of her sexuality. I intended to let that sexuality loose over the weekend, she’d find out what it was like to have her body worshipped and adored. I knew from earlier conversations that she was on the pill, I’d recently had myself tested not always knowing where I was dipping my wick, I was clean as a whistle. It would be a weekend of bareback, making love and knock down dragged out fucking if she could handle it.

She strode through my patio door at exactly four, carting an overnight bag and a smaller bag with what looked like clothes. In a few hours I would find out it was lingerie she’d purchased that he never liked and she was going to wear it for me. I’d made cobb salads with grilled chicken breast and a cheesecake for dessert. As I was cleaning the kitchen she asked if I wanted her to shower.

“No, I want to smell the sex oozing from your body when we lay down, don’t wash that away.”

Smiling she excused herself heading toward the bedroom. As I was starting the dishwasher I looked to see her standing in the doorway wearing nothing but the sheer nightie, no panties, no bra, nothing but her birthday suit beneath it. I could do nothing but stare, her breasts were great, allow me to recant that statement, her breasts were wonderful. They stood straight and proud the way a young woman’s tend to do, perfectly cone shaped with tight nipples pushing against the fabric. Looking down I saw a thick V shaped patch of dark brown curls matching the hair color on her head.

By now the only head I was thinking with was the one on the end of my cock, I did what I told her I would do. I walked to her, reached around grabbing her ass while pulling her into me as we kissed, I picked her up by her butt cheeks and threw her over my shoulder. Walking down the hall I smacked her ass not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make her squeal.

“You’re a naughty girl Emily, you don’t have panties on, I might have to punish you with my rod of correction.”

Her response completely caught me off guard, “Please don’t hurt me daddy. I’ll do anything you want daddy, you can have my pussy.”

Ah, she wanted to role play, I can do that. I smacked her a second time as we walked through the door, lifting her off my shoulder I tossed her onto the bed. I was stripping as she was giggling and scooting to the middle. I grabbed an ankle and pulled her back to me, with her legs hanging over the edge at her knees I opened her legs, pushed them alongside her body and dove in face first. Her smell was erotic and seductive, not offensive, but strong, her pussy was coated with juices before my lips ever touched her pouting thick labia.

Her hands were behind her knees holding herself open, as I felt her body begin to tense she let go of her legs and wove her fingers into my hair. Over and over she whispered “yes” until I felt her body tremble, she wasn’t loud or throwing herself around, pushing her pussy up into my face and breathing heavy was the whole of it. I licked until the second one hit, that must have stirred a primal feeling inside, she uttered out loud, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” this time her body convulsed as she pushed upward off the bed. I didn’t slow down until her butt dropped back to the bed and she pushed me away.

She lay there silent for what seemed an eternity, it was well over three minutes before she stirred, and then only to straighten her body. Reaching her arms to me I moved up the bed and lay with her. We didn’t speak, she wanted to kiss, as we broke she licked my lips.

“I’ve never tasted a pussy before, am I how all pussies taste? Paul how do you know to do all those things, Jeff has eaten me and I’ve cum, but never like this. I came so hard I couldn’t tell if I was in a dream or having an out of body experience. You have a nice big cock, I can only imagine how it’s going to make me feel. I want you to teach me everything you can this weekend.”

“Not all pussies are as sweet as yours Em, you have a perfect blend of honey like nectar and arousal, it made my dick so hard I hurt.”

“I’m not very good at it but I can give you a blow job.”

I laughed, “Honey, the only place my cum is destined this weekend is in your delicious little pussy. You’re on the pill and we’re both clean, I intend to fill you so full of cum you slosh when you walk.”

I sensed she was near tears, “I wish I was with you and not Jeff, I want a baby so bad, but not if he’s going to be like he is. If I wasn’t married to him you could put a baby in me. I would love that.”

I had a finger inside the tiny opening to her vagina, moving it in and out slowly, the juices building rapidly, it was time to put a load inside her sweet cunny.

“It’s time we get down to business, are you ready? We’ll start missionary but I doubt we’ll finish that way.”

As I moved on the bed her answer was to spread her legs and bend them at the knee, a perfect saddle for me to lie in, the thin trail of hair along the labia were like guiding lights drawing my dick to her opening. As the tip of my cock touched her sopping wet pussy she put her hands on my ass and pulled me in, I’m not a huge man by any means, but the six and a half I do possess has never let me down. As I entered she commented.

“Oooo, you’re cut. Jerry isn’t, I think I like this better, it certainly opens me wider.”

About halfway to bottoming out she stopped pulling me in. In not much more than a whisper she talked to me.

“You’re bigger than Jerry, I need a minute to relax and get used to how thick you are. I feel like you’re gonna split me in two, but I like it and I know it’ll feel good once I can take all of it.”

When she raised her hips slightly and wiggled to accept more of me I finished the process of burying my meat deep inside her cunt, three strokes later when my balls hit her as she moaned and whispered “more”.

It was slow and gentle, all my plans for not cumming in her missionary went out the window when she started to go off begging me to cum inside her. My balls erupted and my cock launched volley after volley of thick white seed deep within her. I could feel it hit the cervix, she could as well, I heard her say again and again, “I can feel it”.

When I had softened to the point that I was dropping out she whined, “No, not yet I want more.”

An hour and twenty minutes later I had her on her tummy with a thick rolled cushion type pillow under her abdomen, her ass was pointed up and her pussy was protruding beyond her thighs as though it was begging to be fucked. Hovering over her I swiped my dick up and down over her labia then positioned the head at her opening and pushed forward, her back arched as she pushed back and let out a long soft moan when my pelvis touched her ass.

“This is so good Paul, it’s deep, my pussy is tingling all over. I’ve never had it like this before, put your cum deep inside me.”

I never could hold out very long in that position, there was just too much stimulation, I surprised myself by holding out over fifteen minutes before I arched my back and slammed into her hungry little cunt one last time. It felt like the end of my dick was going to explode, I was cumming so hard it made my nuts hurt, she in turn was pushing back and squealing as her ass shook and her hips humped. She kept yelling.

“Ohh, ohh, ohh. My god it’s so deep, I can feel you Paul, I can feel you.”

At four something the next morning she was on hands and knees as I plowed into her from behind, my hands grasping her hips, our skin making slapping noises as we collided, her knees were spread, her back was arched, she wanted every fraction of an inch I could provide. I thought I would last longer than the twenty minutes I did having cum only hours before, but that tight cunt was sucking the life out of me, there would be no holding back, I let loose with a loud bellow.

Saturday we woke mid-morning, I made us breakfast, afterward we lounged about until early afternoon when she excused herself headed to the bedroom. Ten minutes later she stood at the end of the hall in a white lacy shelf bra, nipples exposed above the half cups, and a pair of white bikini panties with the words “fuck me” in bold red letters across the front. My cock was instantly hard, we’d been in just underwear so there was no hiding it. I uttered half under my breath.

“Holy shit girl, you look fantastic.”

“Jerry didn’t like it, he said I looked slutty.”

I chuckled, “He’s a fool. Get your slutty little ass over here girl, I’m gonna dine at the wye again.”

Standing in front of me she put her hands on mine to keep me from pulling the panties down.

“Paul, I want to try something I’ve never done. My closest friend at work says she sits on her husband’s face and he eats her. Have you ever done that?”

“Let me slide those panties down and I’ll show you. No, don’t take the bra off, leave them just as they are.”

I pulled her panties off and lay back on the couch, she squatted over my face and lowered until her pussy met my mouth. About seven minutes later she was screaming and begging to be fucked, I had taken off the bra and had ahold of her tits as she exploded, the nipples were hard and distended, I had to have them in my mouth. Laying with a nipple in my mouth she said softly.

“I need you again, I need you inside me.”

“Then slide down my body and stick my cock in your pussy.”

“I’ve never done it like that before. What should I do after you’re in me?”

I laughed softly, “Oh, you’ll know once you’re impaled on my cock.”

And boy howdy did she ever, she stroked up and down, back and forth, she ground her clit against my pubic bone and when the time came for a climax to flood our bodies she was slamming her body up and down with great fervor. My nether region was flooded with girl cream mixed with my own, we were both a sloppy mess, after a quick shower we were under the cover for a nap. I called for Chinese delivery just after six, by seven she had excused herself once more, this time appearing in a body stocking with her breasts hanging out and a large opening for her cunt or ass to be fucked.

For whatever reason there was a lot of foreplay before we made love, it was an hour later that we tripped the light fandango one more time. As we lay awake before sleep overtook us she asked me a very poignant question.

“Have you ever done anal Paul?”

Which way to answer this, do I lie and tell her no, or do I fess up and let her know I’ve been buried balls deep in more than one asshole. It wasn’t going to happen between us, not with only a matter of hours before our sex-fest was over.

“As a matter of fact, I have. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, you hear about things but never do them. I just wondered, does it hurt?”

“It does if it isn’t done right. It takes a lot of preparation the first time Em, it usually isn’t something that just happens unless the guy is small and it slips in. Are you wanting to try?”

She sighed, “I don’t think so, I just wondered. I need to sleep, can we do it again in the morning before I have to leave?”

“Yes baby, we can. Have you ever done it with your ankles on his shoulders?” She shook her head. “Then that’s what we’ll do in the morning, think about that for a minute, nothing to get in the way of fucking you senseless. Your pussy will be wide open.”

She repeated, “Wide open, that sounds good.”

She was savvy enough to give me a good fuck, but her naivety was also a turn on. When she went home she would never settle for average again, I felt badly for dipshit, he won’t know what hit him. When we woke she didn’t want breakfast, she wanted me to do her ankles on shoulder. I once again managed to go longer than I thought I would, I looked at the clock when we began and eighteen minutes later I deposited my last load of the weekend inside her very appreciative young body. Her body didn’t slosh when she walked, but she was definitely full of cum.

It was two weeks later I saw her in the laundry, she had a new awareness about her, one of seductive confidence. As we were folding clothes she looked at me and smiled.

“Leave the patio doors open, I’m coming over as soon as I drop off the basket. I want you one last time.”

I was confused, “One last time, what does that mean?”

“I’m going back to Santa Fe, Jerry will be served tomorrow as I’m pulling out of town. He called me a slut for wanting to try the things you taught me, so … fuck him. Or should I say I’m gonna fuck you? This will be our last time Paul, thank you for opening my eyes.”

I thought it might be a lovey dovey make out session, silly me, she wanted to fuck and fuck hard. We finished with me behind pounding for all I was worth. It was a kiss at the door and, “I’ll never forget you, thanks Paul”.

As the haystack was placed before me I was brought back to the present. When Elma asked if I needed anything else I shook my head and proceeded to have breakfast. It became a common occurrence for Elma to wait on me. When they had moved her to mornings they’d also hired a young thing to work alongside her, she was nineteen at the most, liked to swish her ass around, jiggle her oversized tits and flirt.

The morning she served me and asked what sort of tip I had for her while looking at my crotch I knew exactly where she stood, knowing instinctively it wasn’t where I wanted to be. I like pussy, but not what she was offering. As I finished Elma began to bus the table, she looked at me and spoke softly.

“She’s awfully brassy, she’ll find herself in trouble if she isn’t careful.”

I asked, “trouble”?

She said, “You know” as she made a bubble type movement over her tummy, ah, knocked up, now I got it.

Over the next few months we got to know one another fairly well, if it were slow she would sit and have a coffee while I ate. She had a slight accent, when I inquired she told me it was Swiss, she had been working on an Army base in Germany, met and married a young GI returning to the states with him in the early 80’s. What she thought was a dream romance quickly fell apart when she discovered he had three children with other girls from before, she was six months pregnant when he announced he was going to divorce and marry one of the others.

Considering she had worked for the government prior she was able to land a job with the state, one she had retired from fifteen months ago and worked part time at the diner because she was bored. She raised her son all alone, he was now a major in the Air Force flying helicopters, beyond that she didn’t know much more of what he did. He was presently stationed in Guam, she had plans to visit him in another six months.

I noticed as time went on that we’d become very comfortable with one another, It probably bordered on flirting at times, something we either missed or chose to overlook purposely. She would laugh and touch my hand, or giggle schoolgirl like and blush, other times I would make comments about something or another to flatter her or remark about something new. When she changed her hairstyle slightly I commented that I liked it, she just smiled and her face flushed with redness, oh my gosh, she was blushing.

Chatting with her over breakfast one morning I began to think about the situation. I was weeks away from thirty-six and found myself being attracted to an older woman, and I don’t mean a few years, probably close to double my age. I was thinking about her a lot, not in a sexual horny way, although she still had what it takes to turn a head or two. I initially thought of something more along the lines of someone fun to be around, someone to have a meaningful conversation with.

I was entertaining thoughts of asking her to dinner but would always override those with the thought of her laughing at me and telling me to find someone my own age. As I pulled into the parking lot Friday morning I decided I would dig deep and find the courage to ask her out to dinner Saturday night. She was only seventeen miles from where I lived, which in my world was no more than a hop, skip, and jump. I changed my order to French toast which made her stop and smile.

“What’s this all about Paul? I can’t recall the last time you didn’t order the haystack.”

“I don’t know, feeling adventurous I suppose. Speaking of adventurous, how would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? We could go to the supper club on highway 13.”

She laughed, “You don’t want to be hanging around with an old woman like me, but thanks. I’m flattered, be right back with your order.”

I was finishing up when she brought the check, sitting across from me she had a serious look on her face.

“You were serious weren’t you.” I nodded. “Surly there are women more your age for a dinner date. That’s what you were implying wasn’t it, a dinner date?”

“That’s exactly what I was implying Elma, and don’t call me Shirley.” She was laughing. “Is there a reason beyond me being younger that you can’t or won’t go?”

Her fingers strummed the table as she looked around the room, finally turning to me she spoke.

“None at all. I have to say I’m flattered, truly flattered. If you have no compunctions about going out to dinner with an old broad like me, I have none about being seen with a young handsome man. What time?”

After getting her address and phone number I told her I’d pick her up at six, and that I was going to dress in more than jeans and a shirt. I wore casual dress slacks, a dress shirt without a tie and a light sport coat, she had on a lovely floral print dress along with a shoulder wrap. It was obvious she’d spent extra time doing her hair and makeup which she seldom wore at the diner. I commented on how lovely she looked, she simply took my extended elbow and said softly, “Thank you.”

I’ve always been a door opening kind of guy when it came to ladies, it was something my dad had done and it’s something I always do. She commented on my chivalry and good manners once we were on our way. Dinner was excellent along with the conversation that followed, it had been an hour since we sat down, noticing there were others waiting to be seated we decided to go. She asked if I had long term plans, I told her I was quite satisfied doing what I was doing, the pay was decent, I had good benefits and it was basically a no stress job.

She turned to me, “Think you’ll ever marry, or did the longtime girlfriend leaving destroy that forever?”

I had to think a moment, “I think if I met the right woman I’d marry, but who wants to get attached to a guy in his thirties? A lot of women think that’s too old to start a family.”

“Oh, pish posh, whoever said that is as ignorant as the day is long. Lots of time to be a daddy at your age. I’ll tell you this Paul, if I was thirty years younger I wouldn’t mind having your shoes under my bed. But, that boat sailed a long while ago.”

I looked at her with a quizzical look on my face, “Why would you say that? You’re attractive and well put together, I think you sell yourself short Elma. Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

She laughed a little looking out the window into the darkness, then turned to me, “How old do you think I am Paul?”

“I’m going out on a limb here so don’t be upset with me, fifty-nine, maybe sixty.”

She belly laughed and then put her hand on mine, “Oh you sweet, sweet man. I’ll turn sixty-four in three weeks, thank you for seeing me as younger, you sure know how to sweet talk a gal.”

When she leaned to put her hand on mine I noticed her dress had ridden up slightly, the far side was high enough I could see the clip from the strap on what I thought was her garter belt. As she turned back to look out the windshield she quickly adjusted her dress pulling it down while looking at me, I’d managed to look away before she caught me, from the corner of my eye I saw her smile and mumble something to herself. She invited me in for a coffee and piece of cake before leaving for home, I’d grown up sitting around the kitchen table, sitting in the kitchen with her seemed the most natural thing.

As I was walking to the door she reached for my hand and stopped me, “Thank you for a wonderful evening, I haven’t been on a date for two decades or more. You’ve been a real gentle man, thank you.”

I told her I’d see her Monday morning and went my way. My mind didn’t wander to the perverse, I had respect for her and we’d had fun, but I wasn’t fantasizing about having her in bed. I didn’t even know if she did such things anymore, some people stop at an early age. Considering she hadn’t been with a man in twenty years I wouldn’t be surprised if she were no longer interested in such activity. I had to cover another guy’s route on Wednesday and Thursday so didn’t have time to stop for breakfast, Friday morning Elma smiled as I walked in.

“Hey stranger, where you been?”

I explained my situation, told her I’d have the usual and made my way to relieve the pressure on my bladder. A cup of black coffee was waiting for me as I sat down, a few minutes later Elma sat a plate in front of me, it was busy enough that she didn’t have time to sit until a few minutes before I was due to leave. Handing me the check I motioned for her to sit, which she did.

I grinned, “So, where are we going tomorrow night?”

She smiled, “Going? I wasn’t aware we were going anywhere. Did you have something in mind?”

“There’s a new restaurant in Overland, I’ve been delivering to them for more than a month, from what I’m delivering they must do a pretty good business. I talked with one of the owners this morning, he said Saturday is impossible without a reservation, so I booked one for two at seven tomorrow evening. Wanna go?”

She chuckled, “Of course I want to go you goof ball. What girl could turn down an invite like that?”

As I handed her a twenty and told her no change she leaned close to my face. “I bought a new dress this week along with some accessories.” Looking around she whispered. “Some new undies.”

Like a shot she was gone and I was headed to the truck. Telling me she bought some new underwear seemed a bit unusual for her, then again, we’d been talking for months and were fairly comfortable with one another. Maybe it wasn’t so strange, maybe she was simply sharing something with me. At any rate I wasn’t going to give it anymore thought, I’d pick her up at six the next night and that was what was on my mind. I told her I would be wearing a coat and tie, she said she’d dress up as well.

Considering it was going to be the second time I took her out I stopped by the florist and grabbed a mixed bouquet on the way back to the warehouse. I stuck them in a small bucket of water overnight so they’d stay fresh, when I gave them to her I thought her heart was going to stop. Clasping her hand to her chest she began to cry softly.

“Oh my. Oh my, this is too much. No one has given me flowers since my son did when he graduated from the Air Force Academy. They’re lovely Paul, simply lovely. I’ll put them in some water so we can go, I’ll arrange them after dinner. Save room for dessert, I baked a cheesecake today and I have some cherry topping to go with it.”

The restaurant was on Cooley Lake and was called The Cabin. Along with the regular fanfare found at most high-end eating establishments they also offered certain wild game in season. We both ordered the pheasant and were not disappointed in the least, it had been a tossup between the pheasant and a bison steak. The ambiance was pleasant, the lighting was low in a romantic sort of way, it was after we ate and were talking I took in her beauty.

She’d worn a black pencil dress, no, not skin-tight showing off every curve, but still flattering to her figure. Along with that she wore a light white sweater, matching pearl necklace and earrings, and what I figured were three-inch black heels. What had caught my attention when I first saw her was that the dress ended three to four inches above her knees, I then realized she had the legs to pull off something like that at sixty-three. The sheer black seamed stockings made her look all the more appealing. Ever notice how seamed stockings will catch your eye in an instant, one can’t help but look at her legs.

We sat and talked following the meal, nothing serious or earth shattering, it was slow so we didn’t feel pressured to leave. As I opened the car door for her she made sure she was as close as possible without touching my body with hers, holding her hand as she sat I couldn’t help but notice her legs again. I started the car and was strapping myself in when I looked at her.

“I love that perfume. What is it.?”

“It’s called Cherry Blossom Spring, it’s an oil, I have to order it. I used to order over the phone, now I can do it online and they send it right to my door. Much easier than running to the city where I used to pick it up. I’m glad you like it.”

At the house I made each of us a cup of coffee on the Keurig, by the time I’d finished that and put two dessert plates on the table along with a fork for each, she had the flowers arranged and had taken the cheesecake from the fridge. I love cheesecake and like a pig I ate two pieces, she seemed to like the fact that I had an appetite. Walking to the door as I was getting ready to leave she once again took my hand and stopped me.

“I had a wonderful time Paul, I really enjoy being with you. You’re fun and easy to talk with.”

I sensed she was waiting for me to do or say something, a half-smile on her face, the look of wonder in her dark brown eyes. Taking a chance I leaned forward to kiss her, it was soft and tender, her lips seemed to be inviting me to continue, then she pulled back. I thought it was goodnight, what she did next threw me for a curve, in a flash her lips were back on mine, soft, warm, it felt like my lips melted into hers. We kissed with a sense of passion another thirty seconds or so until she pushed back, red faced, looking flustered, her lipstick was smeared, laughing softly she tried wiping it off my lips.

“Oh my, please accept my apology, I’m being a bit fresh aren’t I? In my day a girl would never kiss a boy like that on a second date. I feel a little like a floozy, sorry.”

I laughed, “A floozy? Elma there is no way you could be a floozy as you call it. I assume that means being a bit loose and fancy free.”

Still smiling with a hand on my chest and the other on my shoulder she sort of half giggled like a schoolgirl, “It was a rather nice kiss wasn’t it? I’m simply not used to this sort of attention. You’re a fine young man, are you sure you want to be taking me out to dinner and such?”

“As sure as my name is Paul. I enjoy being with you and to be frank, I wasn’t sure I’d ever meet someone as nice as you after what Sherry did to me. As far as I was concerned loyalty and being faithful were dead.”

Stepping back she slowly opened the door, I felt like she wanted me to stay, at the same time she looked embarrassed and conflicted. As I turned she took hold of my sleeve and stopped me, she kissed me softly one more time and whispered, “Those things aren’t dead Paul, you just need the right woman. Goodnight, I had a wonderful time.”

I drove home thinking about what a joy it was to be with someone mature enough to carry on a conversation and still find a way to be intimate without having to be horny and ready to screw. If she wanted to turn our dates into something more I wouldn’t resist, at the same time I wasn’t going to push it.

Monday morning I noticed a subtle change in Elma, her hair was done up, nothing fancy, but more than the usual, she’d put on a bit of makeup and what caught my eye immediately was the fact she was wearing lipstick, a subtle alluring shade of light red.

When she brought my usual I commented. “Really like the lipstick, is that the same color I had to wash off my face Saturday night?”

She blushed, “Shhh, people will hear you, and yes, it is. Do you really like it, or are you trying to curry favor with me?”

Between mouthfuls I uttered, “Both. Is it working?”

She patted my hand as she walked away, stopping a foot away she turned and looked in my eyes, “More than you know.”

As I was paying I gently took her hand, “I won’t see you again until Thursday, some sort of mandatory safety training. By the way, when did you say your birthday was?”

She laughed, “I didn’t sneaky Pete, it’s tomorrow if you must know.”

I wasn’t five miles down the road when my phone rang, it was Elma, without so much as a greeting she asked, “Where are you taking me for my birthday? Do you dance?”

“I do a little, not what the kids call dancing now, but I can still jitterbug and slow dance. Gleason’s has a dance hall attached that has a band on Saturday nights. Would you like to go there?”

Her voice sounded excited as she answered, “That sounds good, but I’ll forewarn you I can’t carry on like I did in my youth, I probably won’t last more than forty-five minutes on the dance floor.”

The rest of the day found me pondering new thoughts. After Saturday night I was certain she knew how to kiss with passion, and if I was being honest with myself I did feel aroused when we kissed, not enough for an erection, but it wouldn’t have taken much more. Her body was soft and inviting, I could barely feel her breasts against me, but they felt soft and caress able, who knows, maybe even suck able. Oh well, things of that nature would have to wait. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out why I was so enamored by this woman old enough to be my mom, especially when there was pussy half her age on call anytime I wanted it. Or was I latently having mommy issues? Nah, I’d never thought of mom in those terms.

On Sunday afternoon I got a booty call from one of the divorcees across the courtyard. I surprised myself when I turned her down using an upset stomach as an excuse. My stomach was just fine, and I don’t know what it was, but something inside told me to not go over and ravage her body. I ordered roses to be delivered to Elma at work Tuesday between mid-morning and lunch when they were the slowest.

When I walked into the diner Thursday morning there stood my sweet Elma behind the counter with a smile from ear to ear. When she brought me coffee she spoke in a loud whisper.

“If this place wasn’t full I’d kiss you right here. Thank you Paul, you made yesterday the best birthday ever and that’s saying a lot for a sixty-four-year-old broad.”

I patted her hand, “I made reservations at Gleason’s for six, is that too early?”

“Oh no, that will be perfect. I’m so excited, I haven’t danced in years.”

On Friday morning the roses were still displayed prominently on the far end of the counter, when I walked in she came around the counter, walked to me and gave me a hug with one arm while she balanced my coffee in her other hand. As I sat she snickered.

“They all suspect it’s you who sent the roses, so I thought I’d give them something to talk about. I’m taking tomorrow off to pamper myself, beauty parlor, a mani and pedi, you know, the usual stuff a girl does for her birthday dinner with a handsome man. That would be you by the way.”

It was an extremely busy morning, she told me she’d see me at five the next night and waved goodbye as I left. I decided Saturday night should be special and wore a brown windowpane suit, a light green dress shirt with French cuffs and a tie with similar colors. When she opened the door my eyes bugged out of my head, for 64 she sure looked inviting. A teal colored dress with three quarter sleeves, a scoop neck showing the beginning of cleavage, a flared skirt and matching heels, what caught my eye and made my dick want to rise was that her skirt was just a bit past midthigh. The shimmer of the stockings brought it all together.

She had the petite filet and I had the queen cut prime rib, end cut, both excellent meals. We made the choice to go sit in the bar until the band started at eight so others could eat. She had a glass of wine while I slowly drank two tap beers. As the band was setting up we found a booth at the back and waited. She kept saying “this is gonna be the best birthday yet” every few sentences.

We danced a few faster ones until the bump and grind crowd began to take over the floor, when a slow set began it was our turn. We were in the traditional dance position, my hand on the small of her back, her hand on my shoulder, her right hand in mine. As the first song neared the end she leaned forward and put her head on my chest, it also brought her body closer to mine. Having taken my coat off earlier I could feel the softness and warmth of her breasts, I also unexpectedly felt her tummy press softly against mine.

I was going to escort her to our booth when another slow song began, she stopped and moved in to dance with me. Once again her head was on my chest, this time her body was a bit closer than before, she seemed to be the aggressor in the situation so I let her have control. With the song about half over she looked up and kissed me, a long, soft deep kiss. When her tongue touched my lips I took over, drawing her in tight, tight enough she couldn’t help but feel my body.

Sitting in the booth she got a serious look on her face. “Paul, I’ve been talking with Timothy, my son, he wants me to move to Guam with him. It won’t be for another four months, but I’ve decided to go. I’m telling you this because tonight you’re going to give me the best birthday present ever.”

I sat back, “I am? And what might that be?”

She smiled, “You.” I pointed at myself and mouthed me? “Yes, you’re going to take me home and make love with me. Don’t say a word until I finish. I want you to be my lover until I leave, I’m old enough to know what I want, I don’t need to be wined and dined although I love the attention. You don’t strike me as the kiss and tell type, so, I’m going with my gut feeling. I haven’t had feelings toward a man like I do for you in a decade, I want to be loved and I want you to be my lover.”

Taking a deep breath she held her hand up for me to stay quiet, “I’m not a spring chick, I don’t have little tight pink titties any longer, mine are older and show a bit of sag, but they still possess some bounce. They tend to lay to the side some when I’m on my back but the nipples still point toward the ceiling. I have stretch marks and wrinkles and everything else that comes with my age. I’m sure I won’t be able to go all night like I once did, but there are lots of ways to satisfy and I’ll do my best to make sure you never go without. I’m going to the ladies, think about it and let me know when I return.”

In my mind there was nothing to think about beyond I would absolutely love to bed this older woman. When she returned I stood letting her move to the inside, looking at me she said, “Well?”

The way I answered startled her initially until she sensed what I was conveying. I put my right hand on the inside of her leg just above the knee and slid it up her inner thigh. Her first reaction was to close her legs tight, I didn’t move my hand as I looked in her eyes, she grinned and relaxed allowing my hand to move up over the stocking tops, then along the straps which weren’t attached to a belt but rather her panties. She let out a quiet “Uhhhh” when my fingers touched paradise, her panties weren’t wet but they were warm and damp, with her dress up I could smell her arousal. Sweet and tangy, mixed with a faint smell of her perfume, I remembered my ex would often put a dab on her upper thighs at times.

She put her hand over mine and moved it down as we kissed. “Do you like the garter panties? My mom always wore them, when I found them a few years ago I bought three pair, considering I prefer to wear stockings if it isn’t beastly hot I bought several more, it sure beats having to half undress to pee.”

With lust in her eyes she touched my face, “Take me home Paul, I haven’t felt this passionate in I don’t know how long. I want you to take me, to make me yours, now a days I think they call it owning a girl. I want that Paul, let’s go, I don’t want to wait any longer.”

I whispered to her, “We need to sit a minute, I’m sticking up like a flagpole.”

That comment brought her hand to my crotch where she rubbed up and down, “Oh my, you’re a big boy aren’t you. I think I’ve struck gold, I won’t touch you anymore until we’re in the car.”

My car doesn’t have one of those wide consoles, it’s narrow enough she could reach across and place her hand on the inside of my right thigh. She didn’t rub or grab my dick, her hand simply stayed on my thigh as if to say, “this is mine now”.

Things started slow at her house, we hung our coats, I ditched my suit jacket and sat on the couch while she fiddled with something in the coat closet, walking back to me she extended her hand.

“Come, we need to get busy before I get cold feet.”

In the bedroom she turned out the lights, leaving just enough light from outside to see, but without much detail. As she loosened my tie and unbuttoned my shirt I found the zipper in the back and pulled it down. Not a word was said as she pulled the shirt from my pants tossing it onto a chair, my pants were next leaving me in just underwear. I pulled the sleeves of the dress over her arms and let it drop, she stepped to the side so I could pick up my trousers and her dress placing them on the chair.

Standing in her full slip I reached for the hem lifting, as it got higher she raised her arms and let me remove it. With her in garter panties and a bra, me in only my underwear we stood looking at one another in the dark, taking a step to me she put her arms around my neck and kissed me tenderly before she spoke.

“Can we leave the lights out tonight? I don’t want you to see every wrinkle, stretch mark and blemish I have before you make love to me. You can see me in the morning if you want to, but can we do it in the dark? Please?”

With her arms around my neck and my lips on hers I unclasp the bra and pulled it forward, we pulled apart never looking anywhere but each other’s eyes. Sliding the bra off I cupped her breasts and used them to softly bring her body to mine, she giggled.

“Your chest hair tickles my nipples, I like that.”

I played with her breasts as we stood kissing, they weren’t all saggy and flopping down, there was droop, but then what woman doesn’t have some droop at sixty-four. They were soft and yet firm, as I caressed and shaped them with my hands she softly moaned into my mouth, when her hips tilted upward pushing into me I knew it was time to take over. I slowly pushed her back to the bed, when the back of her knees made contact with the mattress she buckled and sat, pushing her back into a prone position I hooked my fingers in the waist of her panties. When I said softly “lift” I was able to get them beneath her butt.

Unclipping the stockings she lay there, I rolled them down her legs and hung them on the chair with the rest, sliding the panties off I knelt looking at as much pussy as I could see in the moonlight. The hair was no longer dark, though her bush wasn’t very big it was still plentiful, long, and silky, between her legs there was just a narrow strip along the labia on each side. Leaning above her body I breathed her sensual aroma, not at all overwhelming and yet very inviting at the same time. When I kissed her mound though the hair she responded by putting her hand on my head playing with my hair.

“You don’t have to do that Paul.”

My response, “Oh yes I do, lay back Elma, let me take things from here.”

With a hand under each butt cheek I lifted her into my face, I kissed the vulva, her inner thighs and licked her from bottom to top with the flat of my tongue. She whimpered like a little girl, when the stiffness of my tongue spilt the outer labia she lifted her hips. As I licked upward my tongue opened the inner labia causing her to groan deeply and put her other hand on my head. Her hips were already undulating and I hadn’t touched her clit, deciding I’d teased enough I opened the hood over her clit and sucked the nub between my lips gently, all the while bathing it with my tongue.

Her hips were moving up and down as she continually whispered my name, “Paul, so good Paul, it’s been so long, so good.”

I felt her body begin to tighten along with a change in her breathing pattern, when she lifted her legs alongside her body and used her fingers to pull the labia apart exposing her clit I attacked. In seconds she let out a wail and her hands went to her breasts, squeezing, pulling them, pinching the nipples. Her hips were moving about the bed as she came and I was hanging on, I licked like a kitten at a milk saucer bringing her to more orgasms until she yelled, “No … no more … Please.”

I lay in the dark with a smile on my face, I was pleased that I’d brought this lovely older lady some satisfaction, that she felt relaxed and sated for the moment. Her breathing was light and sparse, as I sat she dozed off while I watched her body in the diffused light. She was right, her breasts did splay to the sides a little, her tummy was flat, I ran my fingers through her bush enjoying the softness caressing my fingers. As her eyes opened she reached out her arms beckoning to me.

Taking the initiative I lowered my lips to kiss her breast, she instantly put her hand under it and shaped it into a cone, the nipple being prominently centered, I sucked it into my mouth. Another deep groan, I was feeling quite proud of myself. When I switched to the other side she did the same, offering up a nipple to suck on, another groan followed by a series of choppy breaths. I found myself wondering if she’d cum from nipple paly alone.

With her hands on the sides of my head she lifted me to kiss her, when we broke she pulled back and stroked my face.

“You sweet man, you didn’t have to do that. I could never understand why a man would want to do such a thing, I always thought it was repugnant. My late husband would never do that, but now that I’ve tasted myself on your lips it isn’t bad at all. I wouldn’t want to taste anyone else, but now I know I’m not nasty down there.”

“Nasty? Not in the least, you have a lovely inviting aroma, it very much strikes at the essence of my libido, I’m so hard it hurts.”

“Would you want me to do the same for you? I’m not very talented but I’ll try to make you happy.”

I stroked her hair, “Nope, what I want is to be inside you, I want your sweet pussy wrapped around my dick sucking the life out of me. Hopefully my language doesn’t gross you out.”

“If it were anywhere but my bedroom it probably would, I’ve never had a man say the things you just did. It’s kind of naughty, but I think I like it when you talk dirty to me, I always wondered what it would be like to be a naughty girl. Can I be your naughty girl?”

“Open your legs Elma, I have a meat treat for your kitty. I’ll go slow until you let me know you’re ready to take it all.”

As I rose over her she put both hands on my chest, “Just how big are you Paul? It seems awfully long and fat.”

“I think I’m pretty average, my ex measured me once with her sewing tape measure and I know I’m bigger than six inches. No one has complained yet. Is that an issue?”

She chuckled, “No, not at all, I was only curious. Women don’t care how big a guy is if he uses it right, well, unless his is real short and skinny. What did the hubby call somebody like that? Oh yeah, a pencil dick. And that isn’t you Paul, let me put a drop or two of KY on you and then I want my birthday gift.”

I stayed raised above her as she put a few drops on the head of my dick and smoothed it around, lowering myself slightly aligning myself with her vagina I stopped.

“You put it in Elma, show me you really want it.”

Reaching between us she grabbed the shaft and put it at the opening to her vagina, when I felt the tip touch and open her sex I pushed lightly, she was tight but not enough to keep me out. With about half my dick inside she let out a little sigh.

“So big, so much to put inside me.”

I laughed softly, “It’s only halfway.”

“HALFWAY. My God man, you’ll split me in two. Go slow, I can take it, just go slow.”

I did as she asked, taking shallow strokes until I felt her hips move ever so slightly into my down stroke, I pushed a bit farther into her, she was making soft mewling noises and then shocked the hell out of me.

“Yes, just like that. Fill my pussy with your cock, bury that meat deep, give this old lady the screwing of her life. I need this Paul, I need you.”

I loved the sensation of my thick fat head opening her while her vaginal walls grabbed the shaft, sending sensations and feelings of bliss throughout my body. Working myself in further and further as we continued I finally hit bottom, I grunted, she stiffened, I could see a faint smile, her hands went to my ass cheeks and held me against her body.

“Do I have it all? Good. Then make long tender love to me, you can rip me a new pussy tomorrow, tonight will be a first time in a long time, I need it slow and gentle.”

I took a few short strokes to start, pulling out a few inches and then re-entering, by the eight or tenth stroke I was all the way out to the head and then pushed into her completely, she moaned and said softly.

“Oh my, oh yes, oh yes, so deep, so good, you make my pussy tingle, keep doing that.”

I can generally tell when a woman is going to orgasm, there are usually telltale signs of some sort, there had been when I was eating her. Not this time, she suddenly pushed her hips into mine, clamped her hands onto my shoulders digging her nails in, her head was back as she let out a long drawn out moan followed by deep breaths and her body being almost motionless. I didn’t slow down, I continued to stroke, as I felt the rockets getting ready to launch within her hungry old cunt she was now showing signs of another climax, both physically and audibly.

“Cum, cum in me. I want to feel you shoot inside me, I love that feeling. It’s been so long, fill my pussy with your warm creamy sperm, make an old lady feel young again. Fuck me Paulie, fuck me.”

I found myself wondering where that language had come from as I continued driving into her, gone was the “be tender and gentle”, she wanted it planted deep and I was going to oblige. I picked up speed and pushed harder into her, she seemed to relish that, putting her feet on the mattress, bending her knees and driving up into me. As I slammed forward on last time she let loose a scream that could have woken the dead, her body was shaking this time, my balls were erupting inside her hot steamy pussy.

“Oh, I feel it, I feel it. Keep shooting into me, keep shooting. Oh, my it feels so good. Thank you, thank you for giving me the best birthday present ever. You’ve brought the girl in me back to the surface. Thank you.”

I found it interesting and erotic at the same time. I’d never had a woman thank me for making love to her, and certainly not for filling her pussy with a large load of cum that would soon be seeping from her body, trickling toward the sheets. It was a renewal for Elma, it was a first for me. After breakfast the next morning she modeled the garter panties for me, she kept complaining about how old her body looked, I’d finally had enough.

Taking her face in my hands I lifted her to look in my eyes, “You need to stop talking like that, if I found your body repulsive I would go. I don’t need to flatter you for some sex, it’s everywhere these days. I was in bed with you because I wanted to, not because I needed or had to. I find you exciting, I love those

panties and stockings, if you want to make me hard, just let me know you’re wearing that stuff. So, stop talking like that.”

She changed quickly wanting to be screwed in stockings and a belt, with her legs pointed upward I ravaged her body fucking her with mucho gusto until we reached the point of no return. As I filled her body a second time with thick warm liquid squirting from my cock she squirmed and told me how good it felt to have a cock in her.

“Before today I hadn’t felt a cock paint my insides for years, god how I’ve missed that.”

We took a break that afternoon, I needed to get home and a decent night sleep before my morning run, she said she needed to rest or she’d be walking funny for a few days. In the diner Monday morning she didn’t hold back at all, walking to me she kissed me and sat on my lap.

“Good morning Paul. Would you like the usual?”

People were staring at us, we didn’t care, in a low voice I muttered, “What I’d like is you sitting on top riding me.”

Getting up she kissed me again and whispered in my ear, “Come around by five, I’ll have supper ready and you can have me for dessert.”

Over the next four months we tried every position her body could tolerate, she especially liked it from behind with a wedge beneath her tummy to take the pressure off her knees. She was proving the title of the old country song, “Older Women Are Beautiful Lovers” to be entirely true. Within two weeks of our initial get together she stopped working at the diner, my breakfast stops were now at her house where I didn’t always get around to having breakfast. She lived just outside town on a country road, plenty of room to park my rig.

Once I’d woken that sleeping beast within there was no holding her back. I’d gotten my first blow job from her in the kitchen, we’d christened the table, all three kitchen counters, the washing machine and dryer, every room and nearly every piece of furniture in her house. I learned more about the nuances of sex than I ever imagined, the little pats or rubs on my butt as she walked by, gently brushing her chest across mine even though there could have been three feet between us, the stolen kisses, the gentle squeeze of my dick where she thought no one would see.

Before meeting Elma I had become calloused toward the supposed deepness of love between two people, day by day, week by week, she brought me out of that funk. No, we weren’t going to spend the next thirty years having and raising babies, but little by little she was teaching me love can exist in a monogamous relationship. I’d heard my mother say many times, “sex begins in the kitchen”, but never knew what it meant until Elma. Beside our morning soiree’s I would stop in three to four nights a week, if we hadn’t been active in the morning we were at night. I could tell she was tiring as the weeks progressed, when I brought up slowing down to once or twice a week she would have nothing to do with it.

“I’m not going to do that Paul. I’ll never have a season like this again, we aren’t in this for life, although I think we love each other, I’m going to screw you until the day I leave for Guam. Tim is coming home to fly back with me, the day before he is due to arrive you’re going to take off and make love to me as many times as we can in one day. I’ll leave for Guam knowing this grey-haired old pussy was loved and filled with cum right to the very end.”

“What about the house and land Elma, are you going to sell it?”

“Oh, that’s all taken care of.”

I found myself disappointed, I would have loved to buy the place. When that sad day came I took them to the airport, we hadn’t shown any sign of affection in her son’s presence until their boarding call was announced. As we stood she turned to me, walked into my arms, pressing her body into mine as we kissed passionately one last time.

Softly stroking my face she said, “Goodbye my lover. This has been one of the most exciting four months of my life. I’ll never forget you, know in your heart that I’ll always love you. Now that I’m going I want you to find a wife and have some babies. You have too much to offer to be single. Bye lover boy.”

As they walked away I overheard him say, “Lover boy?”

She chuckled, “Your mama isn’t as old as you think young man. I had needs … he took care of them.”

As they approached the chute she turned and waved with a kiss goodbye, smiling from ear to ear. I never did see her again, I got a card from her every year at Christmas until she died, it was her son who sent the card that year telling me his mom had passed.

I did as she told me, I found a wife, in fact it was the farm girl who took Elma’s place when she left. Her name is Fran, becoming my wife only four months after we’d formerly met. She stopped working the diner when she was three months pregnant with our first. We live on what used to be Elma’s place, a week after she’d arrived in Guam I was called by a lawyer and asked to meet him, I wasn’t quite sure what awaited me. I sat in amazement as he handed me the deed to what had been Elma’s home, she had given it to me. Now that we have three more running in the yard I can picture her sitting on the deck watching the kids play with a smile on her face.

As for Fran, she’s the quintessential school mom, soccer mom, housewife and lover. She rocks my world in the bedroom and everywhere else for that matter. When I look at her and our family I’m daily reminded how an older woman was able to bring me back to that place of trust and loving someone after so much hurt earlier in my life. She may have been nearly thirty years older than me, but in the end we were both what the other needed.

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