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.

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