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When my wife first mentioned what she called, The Dallas School Girls, I thought of them as simply a clique of women, and one gay man, all in their 60s who had stayed close friends since middle school. I met most of them at parties or dinners. They were all smart, successful, and quite beautiful.

It wasn’t until after my wife passed away that I learned the real secret of the Dallas School Girls.

I suggest reading at least the intro to this series to help get things started. -Emmerson

The knock on the hotel room door came very early. Wearing only my sweatpants, and Morning wood, I stumbled to the door and opened it, knowing who had knocked.

“Good morning!” Roxanne called out as she threw her arms around my neck and tried to give me a tongue kiss.

“Roxanne, Roxanne, I haven’t brushed my teeth, I’m barely awake.”

“Barely awake is good. Means you haven’t had time to beat away your morning wood. Let me!” She dropped to her knees and yanked down my sweat pants. My eyes were still closed, but I felt her fingers play with my balls as her mouth slid the full length of my cock. Without thinking I thrust into her face. “Oh yes! Fuck my face with this,” she took her mouth of my cock “great” she kissed the tip “big” she licked the underside “yummy” she kissed my balls “cock!”

I could feel the blood pulsing in my suddenly fully erect cock. “Good morning lovely cock. Shall I suck you so I can swallow your cum?” Roxanne started bobbing her head and stroking my cock at the same time “Brushing teeth doesn’t matter with a cock this yummy.”

Her tongue wrapped around the head, licking me with warm, wet strokes. Eyes still closed, I laced my fingers into her hair and pulled her head onto my dick. Her nose was nestled in my pubic hair. I could feel her throat closing on the sensitive ridge. She continued to lick and suck me. I rocked in and out of her hot mouth.

When she took her mouth off my cock, I almost opened my eyes until I felt her warm boobs being pressed on either side of my dick. I knew from experience that Roxanne gave the best titty-fuck and this was to be no exception. As the head of my cock emerged from between her tits, she spit on the swollen purple glans, using it as lubrication to slide her boobs the full length of my cock, focusing on the head.

Roxanne released her boobs long enough to open the button and zipper of her blue jeans. She plunged her hand into her panties, taking the time to stroke herself, quickly gasping at the touch, before reaching up to bring her fingers to my lips, spreading her juice across my face. I inhaled her tangy scent and sucked the fingers into my mouth, my tongue probing between them. The taste was marvelous and I fucked her face harder and faster.

I squeezed my eyes tighter. “Oh, Roxanne you are the best titty-fuck ever!”

“And I love your cock and delicious cum.”

I shoved my cock between her big soft tits. She caught my head in her mouth, sucking hard before pulling her tits back over it. “GOD YOU FEEL SO GOOD! I’M GOING TO CUM!” My dick released long streams of cum over her tits and face. I felt her fingers at my mouth, and again, sucked the flavor of pussy from them. But this pussy had a different flavor. I paused, wondering if Roxanne had fingered her ass, instead, but it was sweeter than that. Before I could settle down to truly taste it, she took the fingers from my mouth, pressing her tits along the head of my cock, collecting my cum and bringing it to my lips.

It was then I realized both of Roxanne’s hands were still on her tits around my cock. I opened my eyes to find the young Hispanic housekeeper standing in our room, holding her skirts in her teeth and pumping her hand into her cunt. Her deep brown eyes glistened when she knew I saw her, and she brought more fingers full of cunt juice to my mouth. Her smile highlighted her dark complexion which blushed from arousal.

“Gracias,” I said.

“Hm?” Asked Roxanne her face still buried in my pubes.

“De nada,” the woman said, returning the hand to her pussy.

It was then that Roxanne looked up. escort gaziantep bayanlar “Oh hello,”

“Mia,” she said, sharing her fingers with Roxanne. Far from being embarrassed or offended, Roxanne kicked the door closed abandoning the housekeeping cart in the courtyard, and grabbed Mia by the wrist and pulled her into the hotel room. When they got to the bed, Roxie dropped onto her back and announced, “Bring me that cunt you magnificent puta!”

Mia looked offended. “I am no whore. I wasn’t the one sucking his dick with the door wide open.” Whore or not, Mia hoisted her skirt around her waist and sat on Roxanne’s face. “But señior is so handsome and his pene is just perfect, you got Mia all wet and I wanted to join in.”

Seeing Roxanne’s lower half sticking from under Mia’s uniform dress and apron, her pants open and half off her hips, I ran to the bed. Mia leaned forward, grabbing my face for a kiss, then went back to riding Roxanne’s tongue.

I quickly removed my clothes, receiving a “Ese pene perfecto” sigh from Mia, and peeled Roxanne’s jeans off her wide hips. I laid at the foot of the bed, my tongue in Roxie’s pussy, licking and sucking as Mia’s epithets, both English and Spanish got louder and more shrill. “Y se come el clítoris de la dama. Mmm” she rocked her hips faster, grinding her clit to Roxie’s mouth. I licked her pussy lips before driving my tongue into Roxanne’s wet cunt. She shrieked and lurched her hips up to my face. I sucked her clit deep into my mouth, letting it drag against my teeth.

“Santa María Estoy teniendo un orgasmo!” Mia screamed as I heard fluid splashing and Roxanne’s gulping and slurping. I kept licking her, sliding two fingers inside and hoping for the same result. Soon Roxie was bucking her hips and screaming my name. She threw Mia’s skirt away from her face, gulping air as she gasped my name again and again until her orgasm grabbed her pussy, constricting it and spewing cum down my throat. We all three sat, gasping and letting our lust-addled minds return to captivity.

“¿Puedo sentarme en su pene también, señor?” Mia said looking at me. I looked to Roxanne, a native Texan. She grinned “she wants to fuck you, now.”

I turned to Mia, stroking my cock to keep it hard and long. “Why didn’t you just ask in English?”

“I was taught to speak impure thoughts in my native language.”

“As if God doesn’t speak Spanish?”

As I walked closer, Mia unfastened the front of her dress and it fell to the floor. Her slim, muscular body shone with sweat. Her panties were still bunched to one side, leaving the lips of her pussy and her clit exposed, pink and dripping. I pulled her into a hug, absorbing the smell of her orgasm mixed with cleaning supplies. She tilted her head up and we kissed. She licked Roxanne’s pussy from my lips and cheeks. Her arms snaked below mine, her fingernails tracing the muscles of my back.

I unclipped her bra and she lowered her arms, letting it fall away. Her tits were simply beautiful. Her deep tan outlined the lighter colored curves which highlighted the even darker areolae. They were wide and swollen, pushing the fingertip nipples out in firm nubs. She pulled the waistband of her panties, which resisted coming down, wadded up at the apex of her thighs.

“Dear God, Mia you are lovely.” Roxanne was kneeling on the bed, her hands between her legs, plumbing her pussy and strumming her clit.

My cock rose up between Mia’s legs. She allowed her hips to sway forward and back, pulling me though her thick, dark pubic hair and across her clit. She moaned softly as I kissed her breasts. “It is the fantasy of every housekeeper to fuck a guest. No matter if it’s one of the older grannys past her prime or young and vibrant.”

“Like you, Mia.” I licked her navel.

“We all have a different fantasy. For some it’s the visiting movie star, for others the famous sports figure. I always wanted a good-looking couple who are open about sex as a way to have fun and share love.”

My tongue teased her pubic eskort bayan gaziantep hair, tasting the cum from earlier.

“So when I was going by and saw señora sucking your perfecto pena in the doorway, I knew I had to ask.”

I stood back up, kissing her again, as I backed her toward the bed.

“Of course,” she seemed embarrassed, “I was a little worried after what the staff found yesterday,” she wrinkled her cute nose. “But I thought, Mia, you’re a big girl. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“That was a one-time thing with a particular person,” I stroked her cheek. “We won’t be doing that today.”

“Oh,” she glanced at Roxanne, a flash of disappointment in her eyes. Roxie looked at me, confused, not having heard of my time with Jill the previous day.

I kissed Mia once more as the back of her legs touched the bed. She lay back, spreading her legs as I stepped between them. Her eyes focused on my cock, which bobbed and pulsed as blood rushed in. Roxanne scampered her naked butt to one side, making room when I took Mia’s wrists and we stretched the width of the large bed.

“Is this your fantasy, Mia? To be taken by a stranger with a large cock and a hunger for your sex? To be watched by a big-breasted stranger who masturbates until you can smell her sex from only a few feet away as she pours cum onto the same bed you are using for your immoral purposes? To be fucked, deep and long and fast until…”

“Santa Maria! Will you shut up and fuck me?”

I heard Roxanne snicker as I shoved my dick in Mia’s soaked pussy. As impatient as she was, the housekeeper was still surprised by the force and depth of that first thrust.

“Aw, fuck!” she shouted.

I laid on top of her as I slid up and back, letting our pubes mingle and my cock drag against her clit. She gripped my shoulder blades, pulling us closer as she spewed a string of oaths in Spanish. I thrust faster, leaning down to suck first one nipple than the other.

“God yes. THIS! This is what I want!”

She bounced her hips up to mine, faster and harder, slamming her clit into my pubic bone. Missionary position had never been so intense.

“Oh fuck,” I started yelling in time with her thrusts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” I could feel her pussy grabbing at my cock.

“Aw yes,” I heard Roxanne moan and glanced up to see her tits squeezed between her arms as both hands rubbed frantically between her legs.

Mia bent her legs so her knees were at her breasts, bringing her hips forward and her clit in direct contact with my shaft. Each time I pushed in or pulled back my cock would drag along the sensitive button.

“Oh mi amor. You fuck so good. Going to make me…oh yes!”

I fucked her hard, shoving my cock deeper as I felt it expanding. My balls tightened. “I’m going to cum, Mia. Where do you want it, mi amor?”

“In my cunt,” Mia screamed.

“In my mouth!” Roxanne yelled, her mind a jumble of lust, her fingers a blur on her clit.

I slammed the head of my cock against Mia’s cervix as my balls emptied themselves into the hot wet cunt.

¡Oh joder, sí, mi amor!” she screamed, dragging her clit through my pubic hair. “Tu esperma caliente me está haciendo llegar al orgasmo. ¡Vete a la mierda señor! ¡No dejes de follarme!”

Her body convulsed and her cunt opened wide, letting her cum splash around my cock, spurting as I continued to fuck her.

Roxanne grabbed my shoulders, pushing me onto my back next to Mia. “Give me that cum!” she ordered, throwing her leg over my face. “Yours and hers I want it all!”

Roxie licked my pubes and sucked my still-hard cock as she shoved her cunt in my face. I licked her clit, caught up in the madness of the moment! Then I felt Mia’s delicate fingers in my chest hair. She moved her face next to mine, kissing my cheek and licking Roxie’ juices from my face. “She tastes wonderful,” Mia cooed, “doesn’t she?” I grunted an assent. “And now she’s sucking my cum off your beautiful cock. That is so goddamn hot. I may cum again just gaziantep bayan eskort thinking about it.” She tilted her head and slipped her tongue, flicking at Roxanne’s clit. I moved my tongue to push into her pussy.

“Ooooh two tongues at once at my cunt. Amazing.”

I let go of Roxie’s head with one hand and slid it along Mia’s thigh until I found her pubic thatch. She sighed, pressing her hip into my hand. I slipped my fingers though her pubes, over her clit and into Mia’s pussy.

“Your cunt is hot.” I groaned.

“And whose fault is that, sexy man?”

It didn’t take long for all of us to climax. Mia helped me drink Roxanne’s cum from her convulsing cunt. Roxie sucked my cock dry as I humped her face again and again. Mia shivered her small orgasm onto my fingers, sighing “So nice, mi amor.” Before I brought the fingers to our mouths, sharing her cum, saying “You taste rather wonderful yourself.”

“Mmm. Yes I do. I want to taste your cum from your cock.”

I stroked her cheek and swam in her dark eyes. “And you will, but not today.”

“Because today is Roxanne and Ryan?”

Roxie climbed off me, dipping her fingers in her pussy to clean herself up. “I’m Roxanne.”

I blinked at Mia, confused. She giggled. “We snoop, we talk. You think we don’t know about the list of names and dates in the nightstand?” She stood up, her pussy dripping, “And the bottle of lube? Are you a Gigolo? You certainly have the body of one, and you fuck like one.”

Roxanne laughed, “No one is getting paid here. He’s just a great fuck and that list is a bunch of MILFs who can’t get enough.”

“Is Ryan a MILF?”

I stood up next to Mia, noticing for the first time how petite she was, big tits notwithstanding.

“Ryan’s gay,” Roxanne offered as if that explained everything.

Mia turned to me slowly, her eyes widening. “Are you…?”

“Bi-sexual, evidently. I love ass-play and have enjoyed sucking a cock or two.”

Her eyes focused on something far away. “Bi-sexual. Handsome, big cock, loves to fuck and eat pussy…and do ass stuff. Are you married?”

“Widowed.”

“But seriously attached.” Roxanne jumped in on Jan’s behalf.

“How seriously?”

I gestured to the room, “She set all this up to share me with her friends.”

“She shares,” Mia reached around, fingering my anus. “I love her.”

“We all do,” Roxanne grinned, “as often as possible. She can suck a cunt almost better than this guy. And if you want your asshole licked, she’s your gal.”

Mia turned to me, pressing her tits to my chest and pushing her finger deeper into my ass. “I want my asshole licked! Will you introduce us? Is she beautiful? Will she lick my ass while I suck the cum from your cock?”

“Yes, to all those things.”

Mia stood on her toes to kiss me, her tongue reaching deep into my mouth as her finger pumped my ass with a delightful force. I pushed her away, gently. “But not today.”

Mia looked disappointed, but not angry. She took the finger from my butt and sucked it coquettishly. My dick was hard immediately. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

She started stroking me. “Soon?”

“As soon as we can mi amor.”

“I love a happy ending,” Roxanne was getting dressed. She paused, bending down to kiss Mia’s butt cheeks. “Almost as much as a happy rear ending.”

Mia wiggled her ass and giggled before she began gathering her clothes. When she bent to pick up her bra, I quickly licked my middle finger and slid it into her tight asshole. “FUCK!” She screamed and stood up quickly. I pulled her into another hug, letting my erect cock nuzzle her pubic hair. I slid my finger in and out, slowly. “Very soon,” I whispered. She sighed as I took my finger out and sucked it, if not coquettishly, then lustfully.

“Aw, fuck me.” She quickly scribbled on a business card. “That’s my cell. Call or text anytime you and … “

“Jan,” Roxanne and I said at the same time.

“Anytime you and Jan want to get together.”

My phone chirped. I looked at the screen, “Text message from Ryan. He’s on his way up.”

“Probably undressing in the elevator at this moment. Come on, Mia. We don’t want to miss out.”

“I think only you do that Roxanne.” I picked up my dirty clothes and found some clean ones. “Have fun ladies. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Evidently there’s nothing you won’t do,” Mia flipped up the back of her dress, flashing her asshole.

“Anything for you, Mia.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I don’t know how it first started, but I caught a glimpse of my brother’s cock. My brother Tommy always wore tight jeans or shorts around the house. I didn’t have a boyfriend and I just had this itch I couldn’t quite scratch.

My brother was eighteen and I was barely two years older than him. I am not the best looking girl around and maybe that was the reason I never had any dates. I had small tits and I was on the thin side. I had to do something.

I would look at Tommy’s bulge as he wandered around the house and then I got bolder. Late at night when my brother was asleep I would crack the door to his bedroom. Tommy would sometimes fall asleep with his nightlight still on. He would be on top of the covers totally naked.

I would look at his long, thick cock lying on his belly. It took all my self-control to not enter his room. I was weak one night. I opened the door to his room and stepped inside. As I shut the door my brother stirred. I held my breath for a minute and then got closer to the bed.

Tommy’s cock was half hard. I knew it was wrong, but I reached out and took it in my hand. That was when my brother woke up.

“Ellen, what are you doing here?”

I don’t think he knew I was holding his cock for those few seconds and then he looked down. I just couldn’t release that fat cock from my hand. Tommy gave me this look that said it all. He knew I wanted his cock. God help me, I really did want it.

I sat down on the side of the bed and I started to stroke my brother’s dick. Tommy began to arch his back some, like he wanted something more from me.

“Suck on it Ellen,” he told me.

I had to have my brother, there was no other way for me now. I lowered escort gaziantep suriyeli bayan my face and took his throbbing mushroom into my mouth. I started to work my lips up and down his huge dick. I needed my brother, I needed him in the worst way.

In a few minutes I had Tommy’s cock rock hard from sucking on it. I pulled off and just looked at my brother. He had lust in his eyes. He got up from the bed and had me stand up. Tommy slowly removed every stitch of clothes I had on. He had me lie on my back.

My heart was beating fast. I never thought it would come to this, honestly. My brother parted my legs and crawled in between them. Tommy had his cock in his hand and he rubbed his cock head up and down my slit. All I knew is I had to have my brother, I craved his cock.

Tommy slowly slid his rod into my pussy. I was tight, but Tommy loosened me up pretty quickly. His cock felt enormous inside me. I had only been with one other guy before. He was nowhere as big as my brother. Tommy took hold of my ankles and lifted my legs up. He kept pushing until he had all of his cock buried inside me.

It was all I could do, to not cry out. My parents were down the hall. If they caught us I hated to think what would happen. Tommy didn’t seem to care. He drove his monster dick deep inside my belly. Over and over he fed me every hard inch of his pole. I had to put my hand over my mouth a few times in order not to cry out.

I knew Tommy had all of his dick inside me. I felt his balls slapping against my ass cheeks. He was slamming me hard. I finally came out of my haze and I told my brother to pull out before he came inside me. escort gaziantep türbanlı bayan He wasn’t wearing a rubber and I wasn’t on any birth control. It was like Tommy was totally out of it.

I repeated myself, but Tommy kept sliding his dick deeper and deeper into me. Then my brother arched his back and I felt him explode inside my pussy. My face must have shown how I felt. I tried to pull away, but I couldn’t. Tommy kept fucking me like a crazy man and shooting his hot seed deep into my belly.

All I can recall now is that he didn’t seem to stop. He kept plowing his big pecker into me and showering me with his cum. Some minutes later my brother finally got soft and pulled out of me. All his white baby seed came dripping out of my hole. I gathered up my clothes and ran into the bathroom.

I tried as best I could to push all that cum out of me and clean myself up. I was worried now. What had we done? I didn’t go back to Tommy, but I went to my bed and cried to myself. I hoped I wasn’t pregnant from my brother fucking me. I finally drifted off and fell to sleep.

The next morning my parents had left for work. I got up and went into the living room. There sat my brother.

“That was so hot last night Ellen,” he told me as he smiled.

I reached out and slapped him.

“What was that for?” my brother asked.

“I told you not to cum inside me, why didn’t you listen?”

“You walked into my bedroom and stroked my cock, what did you think was going to happen?” My brother asked me.

I guess I was a fool. What did I think was going to happen after I made my brother’s hard with my mouth?

“I escort gaziantep ücreti elden alan bayan know you are still horny,” he told me.

I hated to admit it to myself. All I could think of after I went to my bedroom was Tommy fucking me like crazy last night. My brother took hold of my wrist and pulled me to the couch. I tried to pull away, but in the back of my mind I wanted him again.

Tommy pulled off my bathrobe and pulled me onto the couch. All my brother had on was a pair of shorts. He managed to pull them off and we were both naked. I was on top of my brother. I could feel his cock rested against my belly. All that rubbing against me was making him hard again.

Tommy got into position. My pussy was pushing against his cock head. He managed to fit the head to my pussy lips and slide into me once more. Fuck, I needed him. I wanted his cock even if he had creamed my pussy. I wanted him to do it again.

I rode up and down my brother’s shaft. This time I didn’t have to be quiet. I pleaded with him to fuck me hard. Tommy drove his big dick deep inside me. He would hold it there and I would use my muscles to milk that fat prick.

We fucked for a long time that way. I was bouncing up and down and getting every hard inch into my pussy. There was no pleading to pull out this time around. I reached back and squeezed on Tommy’s ball sacs. A couple of good squeezes and my brother blew his wad of seed into me once more.

It felt so hot and steamy as my brother gave me another load of his cum. I worked my pussy around his dick until I got every drop out of him. I then collapsed onto his chest and we both tried to recover.

Tommy told me he wanted to make me his lover. He wanted to impregnate me, he said. My head was swimming. I knew what we had done was stupid, but how could I turn back now. My brother had fucked me raw twice and I had two loads of his seed to show for it.

I had wanted him in the first place and he showered me with his cum. I can still feel some of it inside me still as I write this. I know we will fuck some more and I just hope it all works out for the best.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

James looked across the car. She had been staring out that window for the past two hours. Silently. That was shocking enough. The woman never shut up. It was one of the things that he loved about her, how completely open, honest and transparent she was.

And one that annoyed the crap out of him. Normally he liked quiet. That was why he had bought this place when he sold his first video game…for more fucking money than he thought he would make in a lifetime. Isolated on the Welsh coast, he could go days without seeing a single person if he wanted.

But the quiet now disturbed him. She had not said a word since her simple, “Yes Sir,” in the café. For two whole fucking hours she just sat and looked at the dreary scenery passing outside the window. It was what she had been doing for months, probably for years. Keeping safely quiet while life passed her by. But no more.

He turned onto the single lane road that led to his bungalow. It was hidden in an alcove of trees less than a hundred metres from the raging sea. He loved to just sit and listen to the waves pounding against the rocks. Its eternal rhythm gave him peace that little else could. Except for her.

When she was not pissing him off, like she was now, that is. He meant it. He was not allowing her to throw her life away the way that stupid asshole had his. The way the man tossed her and her love about as carelessly as he did everything and everyone else. Like the whole fucking world owed him. He had used his illness to elicit sympathy from everyone, especially her. Used it like a mask to hide his arrogance and selfishness.

James gripped the wheel tighter as he took the sharp right turn that would bring his bungalow into view. He smiled at the gasp its harsh stone beauty elicited from her. It was the same response he had when the estate agent first showed him the property.

“It’s beautiful,” her voice was breathy and cracked a bit on each syllable like she had not used it much lately. Which was probably pretty damned close to the truth.

“Thank you,” was his only response to all the questions that shone in her bright eyes. There would be time for those later. He opened his door and walked around the car to open hers. She hesitated for a long moment when he held out his hand to her. He frowned and prepared for another battle. But in the end, she simply placed her fingers in his and allowed him to help her from the car.

It was only a dozen or so step to the small wooden porch that wrapped about the whole ground level of stone edifice. He helped her up the couple of steps while he dug the keys out of his pocket. He so rarely bothered to lock the place, isolated and hidden as it were. But he had been cautious knowing he would be away overnight.

Looking at her now, he wondered. Had he known all along? That he would bring her back with him. Had that been the secret plan he hid even from his own consciousness? Had he gone with the intention of spiriting her away like some captive bride? Not that it fucking mattered. She was here now. He held open the door and waited. “After you, princess.”

Her mouth dropped open as she took in the large open plan kitchen, dining and living room. The stone fireplace that heated the bungalow even on the coldest of Welsh winter nights took up almost a whole wall. His collection of hand-painted military figurines was arranged neatly on its mantle. It was a hobby that had always appealed to his need for detail.

A large leather sectional took up most of the rest of the room. A thick carpet and coffee table where he kept his laptop and whatever he was working on at the time filled the rest of the space between the sofa and fireplace. Off to the side was a small round wooden table and chairs, though he could never once remember eating there. He usually ate on the sofa or his bedroom while he worked.

The large country kitchen had never held much appeal to him. But he could see the light in her eyes at the neat and orderly space. Her quick intake of breath when she saw the auger caused him to laugh. “I am not much of a cook, but we will adıyaman escort bayan go into town tomorrow and pick up some things for you.”

She looked back at him and he saw the tightness in her jaw as she bit back whatever smartass reply had popped into her beautiful head. Instead she dropped her eyes and replied, “Thank you, Sir.”

One part of him was pleased with her obedience. But another louder portion knew that he must break it. She had spent five years burying herself beside that bastard in a grave that he dug slowly and meticulously. He had watched the transformation from his sassy and self-assured friend to that man’s docile little slave. Claire might be a natural sub but she was not a slave. But as always she subverted her own needs, becoming what the other person needed, giving too much of herself to a man that did not deserve to even kiss her boots.

The last thing he wanted was for her to lose herself in him the way that she had always done with the others. He did not want her trying to change, to become whatever he thought was the perfect sub. He wanted her to be her. The woman he had known for eight years…giving, fiery, intelligent, and passionate. He wanted the woman he fell in love with back.

“Drop the coat,” he commanded. He smiled as the command reignited the fire in her green eyes. She opened her mouth. But then closed it and dropped her eyes even as her fingers fumbled with the buttons on the coat. She obeyed…a bit too easily.

“Hang it up on the hooks next to the door. Your bag too,” he ordered. He studied her as she walked compliant across the room. The corset was punched in the back. Obviously too large after all the weight she had lost. Her legs were covered in black silk stockings, the old-fashioned kind with the seam up the back.

They were perfectly straight. Just as she had not dared to deviate from the line that man set for her. Not even when it hurt her. Not even when the selfish bastard placed his wants above her needs. No true master had such little regard for his property.

Her round bottom was covered in lacey briefs with only the slightest glimpse of bare skin peaking between it and the stockings. In that moment James knew. Knew the exact button to push. Exactly what would wake his sleeping beauty from her coma.

As she turned and came to stand just next to him, his smile widened. “Now strip naked.”

Her reaction to his firm command was so instant that not even her submissive nature could stop it. Her head shot up. She squared her shoulders back. The auburn hair about her face fell from the tight confines of the ponytail as she shook her head so violently. “Hell no,” the dragon breathed the fire that he watched dance in its eyes.

He crossed his arms and planted his feet firmly apart as he stared into those fiery depths. “You have earned one punishment already. You are working on number two. You forget I know that the bastard has not been properly punishing in a long time. How much pain do you think that cute arse of yours can actually handle, sweetheart?”

“You know that is a hard limit,” she pronounced those final words slowly.

“But I thought you liked playing without limits. What? You can do it for a man that would not even fucking recognize you to his family and vanilla friends but not the one that has stood beside you through thick and thin for eight years?” He tried to keep the pain out of his voice as the words cut a bit too close to home.

She closed her eyes as the words sliced the air between them. She was silent for a long moment. Then her shoulders slumped. Her eyes opened again and he saw the tears dancing in them. “Why?” she whispered.

James almost wrapped his arms about her. He wanted to draw her into his embrace. Reassure her that everything would be all right. Tell her that… Well, maybe not that. Not yet anyway.

Instead, he did something that went against his better judgment, but something that he knew would set him apart from that bastard and all the others. He offered her the explanation akkent escort bayan she sought. “Because punishments are supposed to be something you do not like, Claire. You need the pain that I am going to give you. You have been missing it for too fucking long. And you need a far firmer hand than he gave you. But you also need something that will make you think before you do or say something stupid again.”

He placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I above all people know exactly what this means to you. So you should know now that all punishments will be the same. You will strip naked in front of me. Then you will kneel and remove my belt. You will assume the submissive pose…legs as wide apart as I say. Then you will offer the belt to me. Is that understood?”

He watched the indecision dance in those fiery depths for several long minutes. He was not certain what he would do if she continued to argue. He was not even completely sure that he had the will to push this one. He knew exactly why naked was a hard limit with her. As he said, he knew better than anyone what he was asking. What this cost her.

“You will have to unlace the corset,” she whispered at last.

“Upstairs. It has been a long fucking night. We both need to wash that shit off our bodies. So this time it will be strip, shower then punishment.” James wished he could wash that man’s stains from her sweet spirit as easily as the soap and water would remove the stale smells of the pub and the long uncomfortable trials of travel from their bodies.

“Lead the way,” she whispered.

James took her hand in his once more. He brought it to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. This woman had done just that for him. He owed her everything. The faith that she had in him through all those years gave him strength to have faith in himself. He would do all he could now to do just that…lead the way out of this mess she had gotten herself into. No matter what the future did or did not hold, he owed her that much.

He tugged gently and she followed him up the rough wooden staircase to the loft that overlooked the living room below. This area was even more sparse than the downstairs. It was where he worked most of the time so he liked it that way. Simple and uncluttered.

A king size bed sat against the back wall. It was neatly made as always. The bedside table next to it was more a shelving unit for his gaming systems. But instead of a television they were connected to the projector that hung from the ceiling just above the bed. The white walls made the perfect screen upon which to play or to work.

The walk-in closet/dressing room and bathroom were the only other rooms on this floor. They took up almost as much space as the bedroom. Two dark doors against the white wall announced their presence. One opened up to the huge closet. The area had once housed another smaller bedroom or study as well a tiny bathroom but he had it remodeled into storage space and a much larger bathroom. The closet was neatly lined with racks upon which to hang his clothes, pull out drawers and shelves for his books and game collection.

But it was the other room that drew him now. The bathroom had once held nothing more than a toilet, sink and old tub. It now had a large shower encased in glass and a sunken tub. It was his favourite room. He luxuriated in its opulence.

“Turn around,” James commanded. Claire’s silent obedience continued to both bother him and feed some demon deep inside him. For the first time he understood, truly understood, the others. The heady power of controlling this magnificent creature was like a drug. Not even when he got lost in a game or painting a figurine did he feel this kind of calming release.

He could see now why they had held on to her, even when they must have known they were hurting her. But he reminded himself that domination was as much about giving as it was taking. He would not get addicted to this power the way those selfish gaziantep anal yapan escort bayan bastards had.

His fingers fumbled with the knots at the back of the corset. It took him longer than he wanted to work at it. “This was his favourite, wasn’t it?”

She nodded without turning around. He walked around her to the bedside table and opened a drawer. He found what he sought instantly and was back behind her before she could protest.

The pocket knife sliced through the thick cord easily. Each strand gave way without protest. “What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded.

The knife cut through the final strand. His fingers grasped the top edge and yanked so hard that she spun around. Fuck, he cursed. He had forgotten that the stockings were attached to the suspenders that hung from the bottom of the damned thing. It became a tug of war between them as she crossed her arms across her bosoms and sought to hold onto the damned thing.

He used the knife once more to slice cleanly through the two at the front and two more at the side. Only two more in the back remained. “Turn back around,” he demanded.

“Or what?”

“You know you really need to learn better comebacks than that, princess. You are not my sister and we are not five years old. Now turn back around.” When she shook her head again, he grabbed the front of the corset, pulling it away from her chest and spun her about like a rag doll once more. The knife cut the final bindings. He used the momentum to toss the damned thing over the wooden railing.

“You have until the count of ten to take off the rest. Or I will do it for you,” he challenged.

She spun back to face him. One arm was crossed over her chest and the other angled to try and conceal as much below her navel as she could manage. “You would not dare.”

James stepped back and crossed both his arms over his chest. “One.”

Her mouth and brows tightened. He fought the need to laugh. It was more the look of a petulant two year-old than a woman approaching fifty. “Two,” he chuckled at the irony.

She drew in a deep breath and looked around. He stood between her and the stairs. She looked across at the other closed doors. “Three.”

Like the little girl she was acting, she made a run for it. As Fate would have it, she chose his room, the one they had been heading towards. She was not fast enough to get the door closed before he pulled it open again, “Four.”

She backed further into the bathroom until her calves bumped against the edge of the sunken tub. He reached out a hand to steady her. “Five.”

She tried to jerk free but it only propelled her backwards. If he had not stepped forward and wrapped his arm about her waist she would have toppled into the empty tub. “Six,” he hissed through his teeth as his cock hardened in his jeans. Her almost naked body pressed against him was not something he had thought through completely.

He watched as her eyes widened with shock. Her hand that had been covering her tits shoved at his chest. He was the one sucking in air as he caught his first sight of them. “Seven,” he tried to steady his voice but feared his body’s reaction showed through anyway.

If the crack in his voice did not give him away, the back of her hand trapped between their lower bodies must have surely felt the pounding blood rushing to his cock. “Eight.”

He felt her tremble as her eyes dropped once more. Her cheeks all the way to the light brown areolas pinked up as they took in the tent that was the front of his jeans. “Nine,” he could not resist the urge to press closer to her hand. He yearned for her to turn her hand around. Her fingers to wrap about its hard length.

His words and their ragged breathing echoed off the cool clean white tiles that surrounded them. He held his breath and waited. He willed her…

But even he was not sure what he willed her to do. To fight him…deny the power that strummed between them. Some part of him yearned to break her, to drag her to her knees, to force her to face what they had been denying for too fucking long.

Another part wanted her to surrender willingly. Why would she not give to him that which she offered too fucking freely to those other worthless bastards? How could she not feel it? Feel the connection they shared from the beginning. Why was it the one thing she fought hardest to deny? Why was he the only man that she could not surrender to completely?

“Ten!”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Serena and I were driving north from the Kill Devil Hills and the Wright Brother’s Monument through Kitty Hawk on the way to Norfolk. The photo shoot at the monument had been successful and I must admit a bit surprising. Unfortunately, the impending rain stopped us from getting all the shots we needed. We were able to get some nice shots at sunrise, just before the sun slipped into the clouds.

Passing through Kitty Hawk and approaching the Wright Memorial Bridge the rain started, first just a few large drops randomly striking the windshield, then a bit heavier. We were able to get across the bridge before it got too heavy, but soon, we were creeping along in some steady downpours. Soon it got so bad I decided we better stop.

“Serena, I think I’m going to pull off the road as soon as I find a place to stop. We’re not in a hurry and there’s no need taking any chances in this rain,” I said loudly so she could hear me over the sound of the rain.

“The Cotton Gin is not too far ahead, they have plenty of parking and if the rain let’s up we and run in and look around,” she shouted back.

“What is the Cotton Gin?” I asked, pensively.

“It’s kind of a mini-outlet fashion center.”

“A mini-outlet fashion center? And what exactly is a mini-outlet fashion center?”

“Well, it’s too small to be really called a mall, but they have a lot of nice fashion stuff a fairly reasonable prices.”

“Doesn’t the magazine pay you enough? I’d figure you would want to hit the high price shops and stuff.”

“Hey, a girl can’t have too many clothes and here I can get three or four for the price of one at the upscale stores. Besides, often it is the same stuff.”

“Oh now come on, you certainly don’t believe that do you?” I asked, laughing a bit.

“Well I can dream, besides… there, just up ahead on the right there. No, not this drive, it’s the exit. Yeah, over there.”

“Okay, I imagine you want to park up close so you can duck it when the rain stops.”

“No, that’s okay. Park over there,” she said, pointing off to the left.

“The back row?”

“We don’t want someone banging up the car trying to stay dry.”

“It’s a rental car, who cares.”

“Humor me, just park over there. Yeah, that one right there.”

I pulled into a spot at the back corner of the lot. The rain was even heavier now than when we were on the road. Outside the car all we could see anywhere was a the dull gray of falling water. Reaching into my camera bag, I pulled out my digital camera to show Serena a few of the shots.

“I Bostancı Escort wanted to show you what I got,” I said as she scooted a bit closer to me. “The better shots are on film, but this should give you an idea.”

I showed her the first couple I took with the digital and then came the one I got at sunrise, the one that showed off her spectacular nipples. Just looking at it again and remembering the pose I felt my cock becoming erect. She wouldn’t have been able to notice it with me sitting down, so I didn’t try to adjust it, even though it felt a bit uncomfortable.

Going through the shots we finally came to one of the last ones, the one where she was sitting on the wall, straddling the sharp corner when she lifted her skirt to expose her naked kitty to me. I quickly clicked past that one, but she grabbed my hand.

“Hey, hey, go back to that last one.”

I backed up to the picture and feeling myself blush a bit, “Just a reaction shot… ah…” I mumbled.

“Reaction shot, or were you going to keep this one, and go back to the hotel and look at it some more?”

“Well, considering what happened afterward…”

“You were going to take this back to the hotel and jack off to it weren’t you?”

“No, it was just a reaction shot, you had a pose and I clicked,” I said defensively.

“And what happened afterward?”

“That was just incredible.”

“I agree with you there,” she said, reaching her hand to my lap and taking hold of my erection.

“Serena, I’m old enough…”

“Don’t you say it. It didn’t stop you this morning.”

“Well that was a spur of the moment thing, just…”

“And this isn’t,” she asked, her hand stroking my cock through my pants.

“We have time to think about it all, about what is happening.”

She looked up into my eyes and said very slowly and very succinctly, “What is happening is that it is raining so hard no one can see a thing. The car doors are locked and we are perfectly safe. In just a moment I am going to pull this out of your pants and try to make you feel as good as you made me feel when you swooped down and ate my kitty.”

“But…”

“But?”

“I ah… I think we should… careful with the zipper.”

She had my cock out of my pants and stroked it with her hand a few moments. Then she squeezed it from the base and pulled upward, milking out the precum and letting it pool on the tip of my cock.

I watched as she slowly took her tongue and dipped it into the clear pool, turned it some as if trying to dip Kadıköy Escort down into the tiny opening and then moved it back to her mouth. A thin strand of liquid stretched from her tongue to my cock as she closed her lips and smiled.

“Mmmm, you tasted me this morning and now I get to taste you,” she said as she plunged her mouth over me, closing her lips and sucking. Her tongue swirled around my cock as she continued sucking, her cheeks pulling inward as her head bobbed up and down. I felt her hand move to by balls, so I lifted up from the seat and pulled my pants a bit further down, giving her better access.

Looking down on her, her long dark hair covering my lap, her head bobbing up and down I wanted to touch her. Moving my hand onto her back, I ran it down toward her ass. She was kneeling in her seat next to me, but she was small enough that I could reach her skirt an pull it up over her ass. She had not put on any panties, so my hand soon slid over her soft skin and I kneaded her ass as she continued sucking my cock.

Moving her hand to my shaft, she began pumping with her hand as she moved her head back and let her tongue circle the head, sliding underneath and then back over the top. Then she moved her lips back over the head, and with an incredible suction, moved her mouth down my length until I felt my cock banging the back of her throat.

She had been at it a while and I felt her tiring some so I said, “Serena, this is so good, but I want to fuck you.”

Sitting up, I noticed her massaging her jaw, so I continued, “That was incredible, probably the best I’ve ever had, it’s just recently… in the last few years it takes me longer to come. It was so good, but it just takes me longer.”

She got a devilish look on her face and quickly crawled over onto my lap, straddling me and lowering herself down onto my cock. Already wet, I felt her kitty open to me as it enveloped my cock and descended over me. Serena took all of me into her cunt and then holding my shoulders she slowly rose up until I nearly fell out of her. Quickly descending over me, she began bouncing up and down speeding her pace with each movement.

It was incredible, she was bouncing on my lap at an incredible speed, her pussy doing things to my cock I never had felt before. Yeah, I was going to come, but now, unlike during the blow job I was losing control. Fuck, it had been years since it came over me like this.

I heard her moan and then change her motion some and I knew she was getting ready to come, so I did something I haven’t Göztepe Escort had to do in a long, long time, I turned my attention to the rain, distracting myself for a few moments while she came. Her wonderful cunt squeezed over my cock as she leaned her forehead against mine, opened her eyes and looked at me so savagely, so wantonly that I immediately focused on her and what she was doing to me.

When I came, it felt like I was an eighteen year old again. With each spurt I splashed my cum deep into her body, flooding her with me. Again and again I felt it surge through my body as my cock twitched inside her. Grabbing her, I pulled her against me, stopping her bouncing as I squeezed her tightly.

“Oh fuck Serena, oh fuck.”

Leaning her head on my shoulder she responded, “Yeah, wow, that was incredible.”

I turned my head to her and kissed her, my tongue slowly entering her mouth, exploring her. Holding the kiss for a long time, we finally separated to catch our breath. She rested her head back on my shoulder and I felt my soft cock slide out of her body. I could feel our combined wetness cover my lap as I closed my eyes, savoring the warm, damp sensation.

A little later I heard the car door open and looked up at Serena, standing by the passenger door, her arms full of packages. She peeked in at me and said, “Pop the trunk, I need to put these away.”

“I’ll help you,” I said, shaking my head.

“You better pull your pants up before you do that,” she said, giggling.

I quickly pulled my pants back up, fastened then and then opened the car door, pushing the trunk button. Climbing out, I walked back and helped her arrange the packages in the trunk.

“Sorry, I guess I fell asleep.”

“You think?” she said, rising up on her tiptoes and kissing me on the cheek. “It gave me a chance to do a bit of shopping.”

I looked around at the sky, the sun was peeking through the clouds. “How long ago did it stop raining?”

“Oh twenty minutes or so. I took an umbrella when I went in.”

Noticing there were no cars parked nearby I said, “I hope no one noticed us.”

“No, everyone else parked up close to the building.”

I looked over at the building and then noticing movement in a tree, I looked up and spotted a hawk resting on one of the taller branches. The bird looked skyward and turning my head to see what it was looking at, I saw another hawk soaring proudly through the clearing skies. Glancing back at Serena, I leaned down giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

She walked over to the passenger side of the car and climbed in. I paused a moment, looking back up at the hawk and then I walked to the car door, smiling proudly. Climbing inside, I leaned and gave Serena another kiss, then started the car and backed out of the parking space.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

A continuation of my first story. The first chapter was an introduction to see if this story had legs. Hope you enjoy and please give me feedback. All characters are over 18.

*****

Having intrusively measured up the poor boy Barbara immediately felt as though she should abscond and leave him to sleep. She felt extremely ashamed with herself for allowing intrigue to override her normal decency, yet still her gaze was focused on the boys penis. She watched closely as a teardrop of precum pushed out from underneath the boys prepuce and ran down his little shaft. He let out a small whimpering moan, making Barbara recoil back a little as the precum flowed down to the base of his penis. Waiting until he was still again, Barbara leant back forward; hands hovering over his body, desperate to touch him again. Slowly she dipped a finger into the pool of precum that had gathered at the base of his penis. Holding it back up to her face, Barbara licked the glistening fluid off her finger. The old woman felt a little flutter in her stomach as she relished the salty taste of the young man’s precum. The boy started to stir again, turning his head and moaning a little more. Although desperate for more of his juices, Barbara was afraid he might wake up, slowly she moved away and scooted herself off the bed. Carefully she folded the sheet back over him, leaving him to rest a little longer.

Feeling a little flustered, Barbara sat herself down on her little couch outside the bedroom. Although a she felt a little guilty, oddly she also felt a feeling of accomplishment, as though proud of having reacquainted herself with a man’s flesh after so long. And try as she might to get the naked young gentleman out of her head, Barbara continued to peek on him several times in the following hour and listened carefully for when he woke up. At around midday Barbara could hear stirring from the behind the curtain and the rusting of sheets as the boy awoke.

‘Hello?’ his weak voice cried from the bedroom. Barbara’s heat leaped with excitement and began moving to the door as quick as her old body could carry her.

‘Hello miss.’ He said again as she appeared at the door.

‘Good you’re up.’ Barbara said, bluffing her surprise.

‘Are my clothes dry yet miss?’

‘No not dry yet’ Barbara said. ‘And stop calling me miss, it makes me sound so old. Call me Barbara.’

‘Sorry mis… I mean Barbara.’

‘So what’s your name then?’

‘It’s Charlie.’ The boy replied. ‘Thanks for all your help Barbara but I really should leave now, I don’t mind if my clothes are still a bit wet.’

‘Nonsense you’re not going anywhere, you haven’t had anything to eat yet’. Barbara said blowing him off. Before he could protest Bayan Eskort further she had left to prepare him something to eat.

‘You relax and I’ll feed you.’ Barbara said as she returned minutes later with a bowl of soup and bread. She sat down on the bed close to the boy setting aside the tray for a second to pull themselves closer with his head pressed against her bust and her left arm wrapped around his back, tucked under his armpit. Placing the tray on his lap, Barbara began to bring spoonfuls of soup up to his mouth. With her left hand she could not help but to brush his downy underarm hair and lightly graze his nipple.

‘Thank you Barbara.’ Charlie said after he had had his fill. Barbara hugged him closer, intentionally pressing her breasts into his side as she kissed him on the cheek.

‘You’re a very handsome young man Charlie.’ Barbara smiled at him.

‘Err…thank you Barbara. You’re a very attractive woman.’ Charlie replied.

‘Nonsense, I’m an old hag’ she protested. ‘Maybe it’s these that have you confused.’ She laughed as she gave her massive boobs a squeeze. She noticed him blush a little, perhaps an indicator that she hadn’t lost all of her sex appeal.

‘Do you have a girlfriend?’ Barbara suddenly asked.

‘No, I don’t.’ Charlie said shyly.

‘Well who were you thinking of whilst you were sleeping?’

‘Whu…what do you mean?’ he blushed.

‘I mean you’re penis was erect when you were sleeping.’

‘Err I don’t know, it just does that sometimes.’ Just as he said that Barbara noticed a little jump in the sheets. She watched delighted as his penis began to bob up and down underneath the sheets as he became aroused again.

‘Im sorry’ Charlie said going even redder than before and tried to push his penis down.

‘Don’t be, it’s perfectly natural’ Barbara said. She delicately removed his hands and peeled back the sheets.

His penis stood almost perfectly bolt upright at ninety degrees from his body, it was also nearly perfectly straight. It was small in length but also very skinny. They both looked at his small thin penis together, one in embarrassment the other in fascination. It truly was the most beautiful thing Barbara had ever seen. She moved in for a closer look, his foreskin still fully covered the head of his penis which looked like an unopened flower. It was weird, his penis looked delicate and effortless but at the same time it looked strained and taught with lightning bolt like veins full of blood.

‘You have a beautiful penis Charlie’ Barbara said.

‘It’s too small, all the guys at school have bigger ones.’ He replied.

‘No no its fine, It looks about average to me.’ She lied unconvincingly, Anadolu Yakası Escort unable to wipe a sympathetic smile from her face as she recollected some of the more than ample sized cocks she had sampled in her past.

‘Can I touch it?’ Barbara finally dared to ask. Charlie couldn’t manage a response, only able to take a nervous gulp of the throat. Barbara didn’t need a reply anyway, already beginning to pull his foreskin down between her thumb and forefinger. Charlie let out a small whimper as the old woman pulled back the tight skin as far as it would go, revealing a glossy red helmet glistening with precum. Grasping his cock with her entire hand, she covered all but the head. His pencil thin penis was as hard as a rock, she could feel it throbbing with blood. She lowered her head and rolled her tongue in-between foreskin and helmet. Another whine emitted from the boys mouth as he flinched and his abs tightened. Barbara continued to lick the head of the boys penis, moist with a layer of precum.

Barbara then slid her mouth over his entire penis, slim enough to keep her lips slightly pursed as though fellating a fat pencil. As she sucked him up and down, the boy trembled beneath her. Barbara stopped to look up at the boy’s sheepish expression, she felt sure he must be a virgin and was set to blow any second. Not wanting him to cum yet she moved her attention to his abdomen, kissing her way up to his nipples. They stood erect and pink as she sucked on his firm lean chest. Hastily Barbara threw off her top, in the heat of the moment, carefree of her fat aged body. Her massive breasts flopped down, Barbara grabbed one with both her hands, leaning forward she offered it up to Charlies face. Obediently he took her large nipple into his mouth, sucking at the loose skin.

Barbara then straddled the boy, moving her shorts out of the way she exposed her pussy, which despite an earlier clean up was still covered in a thick thatch of hair. She gave him another couple of seconds for his imminent orgasm to die down, kissing his quivering lips whilst she played with her pussy. Unable to wait any longer, Barbara reached back and slid herself over his penis. With his small member fully bedded in so easily, Barbara began to bounce her huge hips as gently as she could. In her life she had been used to men doing all the work in bed, often being quite rough. She enjoyed it rough, however it was nice to just once be in control. Bouncing at her own pace, Barbara tried to keep her weight mainly off his slender body.

Barely a minute in, Barbara could see Charlie was set to bust his load. She jumped of as quick as her fat body could, instantly grabbing him with her fist she began to jack his little Pendik Escort cock before switching to just her thumb and two forefingers. Charlie let out a little gasp as his jets started flying, cum shooting all the way up to his chest. ‘Big load for a little guy’ Barbara thought to herself as she flopped down next to him.

‘Wow, that was amazing!’ She said.

‘Oh my God.’ Charlie sighed relieved.

‘Did you like that.’ Barbara asked.

‘Yeh, I…I’ve never had sex before.’

‘I can tell.’ Barbara giggled, pointing at the load on his chest.

‘Sorry, I wasn’t very good. I came really fast.’

‘Don’t you worry about that, I can teach you for next time.’ Giving him a cheeky nudge.

Charlies eyes widened ‘There’s going to be a next time?’ He said in surprise as Barbara leaned over to grab a tissue, cleaning the cum off her fingers.

‘If you can stand to fuck my big old body that is.’ She joked, slapping her flabby belly.

‘Yeh I like your body.’ Charlie laughed back. ‘I..I like your… boobs.’ He said, unable to take his eyes off them, even as Barbara mopped up the cum on his chest. Barbara laughed as she watched him stare at her wobbling flesh.

‘Go on you can touch them, don’t go all shy on me again.’ She said, snapping Charlie out of his trance. She knew he wasn’t so bold, so she grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast. Charlie, starting to get a little more confident traced his hands down to her nipple, feeling the rubbery skin in between his fingers.

‘Give it a squeeze.’ Barbara suggested. Charlie complied, cautiously pinching between his fingers.

‘There you go.’ Barbara moaned with pleasure as she watch the wrinkled area of flesh squeezed between his smooth hands. He then started to play with them and fondle her whole breast, Barbara smiled at how sweet he looked, his fingers struggling with their size and weight.

After giving him a good feel she rolled over, Charlie held his arm away for a second, confused as she turned her back to him. Then giving her ass a big slap, Barbara asked.

‘What about this then, do you like my bum?’ Inviting Charlie to give it a grab. He reached over giving her mighty cheeks a squeeze.

‘Yeh, I kinda do I guess.’ He smirked, allowing Barbara to turn back to face him.

‘I love your foreskin.’ Barbara said feeling as though she also owed him a compliment. ‘Delicious’ She added as she reached for his shrunken penis, rolling it between her fingers. Charlie laughed, still a little shy but now realising he had nothing to hide with her. Suddenly beaming into a huge smile as it dawned on him that he’d lost his virginity. For a second he pondered being able to brag about it to his friends but quickly realised having sex a woman three times his age maybe wasn’t so cool.

Barbara slumped back, closing her eyes for a second, imagining the possibilities of her new found friendship. She felt herself drifting off, her mind peaceful and content for the first time in forever.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Like a drug, reader’s comments make me write more. Like a whip, constructive criticism makes me write better. Please vote and comment. Your feedback makes for better writing.

Of course, it’s best to read the previous chapters.

*****

A Little Side Business, Part Seven

It Ain’t Over ’til It’s Over

Our hero takes resurrection road

Spinning. Spinning in the dark. Spinning on the playground merry-go-round when the big kids pushed it too fast, my balloon legs pulling me away into deep space, my face in the grass, my fingers digging into the loam, fingernails tearing. Pain like a needle up my nose. Breathing broken glass, swallowing razor blades. The tang of iron and salt on my tongue. Screaming. Someone screaming. Not me…probably. Other voices shouting. Heavy vibrations rising out of the ground, pulsing through my cracked head. The bones of the earth grinding together. Giants stumbling near!

I came back to the world in fragments.

I cracked one eye and the spinning slowed. A landscape of bloodied carpet tilted slowly down to horizontal. I let go, felt the earth pull me back to itself. Feet ran by. Another pair. The screaming faded, echoing in descending pitches. My breath tore in my throat. I swallowed blood. I reached for my face, came away red. Tried to focus. Too hard.

“NINEONEONE!” someone shouted. “NINEONEONE!”

A naked woman knelt beside me, cell phone to her face, a blur.

“Glasses,” I croaked, searing my throat. She vanished, reappeared, lifted my head. Pain circled me, striking from just out of reach, not fighting fair. Things went black again for a moment.

“What the fuck, man, what the fuck,” someone said. I turned to the sound and all the loose stones in my head ran crashing to one side. I saw Marcus hopping on one foot, struggling to put on his pants.

Tamika’s voice, cutting in and out, “I don’t…address. Between…bridges…Island…mond Causeway. On the right. There’s a…stone pillars. No…no sign…number.”

I tried to raise up and a wave of nausea hit me. I guessed my nose was broken. Eyes clenched, I sat up and fell back against the bed frame, remembered sex. I had been having sex. That burnt, hot empty feeling in my crotch. And I was naked. My penis looked so small from this distance. I held my head, tenderly ran a fingertip along my nose. Bad idea. Hard to catch my breath when every movement sliced at my throat. Slowly the world came into focus. There were a pair of black panties tied to my wrist.

Tamika appeared before me again. “Frank, you OK?” I had to think about that.

“No,” I groaned. One too many words for my throat. Swallowing helped, even when it hurt.

“You hit the floor pretty hard when Rita got the belt off your neck.” She looked concerned. I tried to look back with meaning, telepathically. *Get my pants* I beamed.

“Charlotte freaked out and ran away screaming. Rita followed her. I called 911.”

“Pants,” I croaked, sure my throat would tear. She disappeared and came back with my VoltT uniform. I reached and, with her help, stood up, reeling. The carpet threatened to fly up and hit me in the face again. I held tight to the bed frame until the spinning stopped. We got my pants on. The shirt was a whole other project, but after some time and some gingerly negotiation with the neck hole, we did it. Tamika got dressed while I caught my breath and tried to align my body at a perpendicular angle to the force of gravity. It’s harder than it looks.

Marcus said, “I’ve got to go. I don’t want to be here when the police come. I’ll just be the prime suspect.”

“Another sad but true fact,” sighed Tamika, “As far as we’re concerned you were never here, alright? I’ll call you and get on the same page later. You OK with that, Frank?”

I made a gesture that I hoped conveyed agreement.

Rita came back in, distressed, “Charlotte ran into the maze. I can’t find a way in there. She’s still screaming. Come help me find her, Frank!”

A jolt of adrenalin cleared my head some. “Coming,” I whispered, finding my shoes. Bending over to tie them was no fun.

Tamika left, saying, “I’ll drive out to the Causeway and flag down the EMS guys.”

Rita said, “There’s an electric chain saw in the shed by the pool. Bring the extension cords, will ya!” And she ran out with Marcus’s jacket and one of the light stands, trailing its cord. I followed, jerking a cord from one of the other lights, which went down with a crash as I stumbled out the door and down the stairs, skull still throbbing, but now in rescue mode.

The night air cleared my head a little more. Rita had pulled the chain saw out and was waiting for my cord to plug it in. She had a light trained on the hedge. We could hear Charlotte screaming, her cries growing more ragged and mournful by the moment. Clearly, Rita’s idea was to cut our way into the maze and find her. Clever girl. She’d wrapped herself in Marcus’s jacket.

“You cut, I’ll pull the crap out of your way, OK?” she shouted as I fingered the trigger and the chain saw whined. I stepped over the brick wall İstanbul Escort and began. The thorns were fierce, scratching my arms and face, the smell of wounded vegetation thick, sickening. I didn’t want to think about the snakes and spiders; I jumped every time something went down my neck. Using the jacket sleeves for gloves, Rita made a pile of debris behind us by the pool as we went deeper, our feet snarled in the jagged stumps and vines that lined the path I cut.

I paused to catch my breath and realized the screaming had stopped. Now I wasn’t sure where I was going, nor whether Charlotte was alive or dead. She couldn’t be much farther in, I thought.

“Bring the light closer,” I directed Rita. “Point it down low if you can.” Wielding the light stand like a pike, she shone the beam into the snaggle of trunks and shadow. I saw a foot. “There!” I shouted. And I cut a couple more limbs, but then I had to work my way in by hand, spreading the shrubbery and squeezing my body through. Rita’s light wavered, making the scene stroboscopic, hard to read. Casting a shadow ahead of me, I felt my way into my own darkness.

Finally, I broke into a bower where Charlotte lay naked on her side, curled and filthy, covered in scratches, tattooed with blood, clutching an ancient porcelain doll, it’s dress a gray rag. Charlotte’s eyes were open. She was breathing, zebra-striped by Rita’s light. At least I hadn’t killed her. This whole catastrophe was my fault. I was beginning to think that the signature feature of maturity was knowing when not to do something.

Kneeling over her I heard distant sirens growing louder. I touched her shoulder. “Charlotte!”

No response. Shit.

“Wait for the paramedics,” said Rita, sensibly, peering in from the hole we’d cut. So I just held Charlotte’s hand and felt the weight of my guilt until the uniformed men broke their way in and took over.

I heard Rita answer their questions with Tamika interjecting facts about Charlotte’s condition, as we understood it. And we probably didn’t understand it at all. Had Charlotte ever been truthful?

Rita told them we’d been having a dinner party and that Charlotte, who had told us she was taking medication, suddenly stripped off her clothes and ran screaming into the woods. Tamika produced Charlotte’s purse and a bottle of pills. They were thinking way ahead of me on this.

The paramedics got her in the ambulance and I waved off their offer of help to work on my nose. I’d almost forgotten about my nose. We’d told them I hit it on a branch as I cut my way in to Charlotte. And I had an instinct not to tell them about my throat and how it came to have contusions. Tamika gave Rita her car keys and jumped in the ambulance with Charlotte. “I’ll get her admitted and use the VoltT database for next-of-kin,” she said as the doors were shut and the ambulance ground away up the gravel drive.

The police seemed satisfied. “We’ve seen a lot of these drug incidents recently,” the young officer said. “She shouldn’t have been mixing that stuff with alcohol. It’s lucky you were here to rescue her.”

As the cruiser disappeared into the dark tunnel of trees I noticed a thread of smoke trailing out of a second floor window of the house. Flames flickered behind the glass, growing rapidly in brightness. Fuck. Now I’d burnt the house down.

*********************************************

Well, the firefighters were very professional. They kept the flames from spreading to the poolhouse or the woods, and pumped the pool dry, but Bateaux was quickly a pile of charred rubble fallen into a blackened foundation. We told the same credulous policeman we’d left candles burning when Charlotte ran out of the imaginary dinner party and he believed us. I hoped the place was too burned for the insurance company to find any evidence otherwise. No one ever suspects a clean-cut older white guy like me of anything. I think that wearing VoltT uniforms actually gave us some credibility. Marcus was right to leave before they arrived, though.

It was a long night. Rita and I stood by the pool in the 4AM darkness and watched the last of the fire equipment slowly pull up the drive. The whole place had the searing reek of housefire and so did we.

“I’m exhausted,” I admitted.

“And you look like shit,” Rita added. “I’m sure I do, too.” She could never look like shit. She’d been the clearest thinking one of all of us. Probably saved us from a booking. And saved Charlotte by remembering the chainsaw. I felt nothing but gratitude. That and exhaustion. And my nose throbbed, my throat was raw, my hands were cut, blood still crusted all over me.

“I just want to lie down now,” I said. Rita put her shoulder in my armpit and walked me into the outdoor shower. She put my hands on the slats so I could lean and, warm water streaming, let the shower rinse away my dirt as she stripped me bare again. I told her where the hidden key was and I hung there letting the water soothe my pains, on the cusp of sleep while she rinsed herself and went to find clothes. Where did she find the energy? Anadolu Yakası Escort

I gave a painful chuckle when she came back with the red beach robes that Charlotte and I had worn on the first night I came to Batteaux. Rita led me to one of the bedrooms and we fell there into an all too short, but deep sleep, spooning.

***************************************************

The sun woke me around seven and I nearly had to crawl to the bathroom. I pulled myself along on the furniture, anyway. In the mirror my nose looked different, swollen, purple and maybe a little less straight. While I was in the there finding painkillers, Rita found the coffee. And some frozen waffles. We hardly spoke as we negotiated the unfamiliar kitchen, making stolen breakfast. Twenty minutes later I almost felt like a human.

“Should we call out sick today?” Rita asked.

“Screw VoltT. I’m calling out dead.”

As I sat staring into my coffee cup, Rita set an iphone and a slip of paper on the table. “I found these with the key.”

The phone was Charlotte’s, in her distinctive Kate Spade case. On the paper were the words: ‘While you were sleeping – KB’.

“I tried to unlock it, but of course I don’t know the pin,” she said. “I guessed too many times. It says we have to wait to try again.”

I picked it up and held it, rubbed my thumb on the home button, wondering why Charlotte had thought she lost it, why it was in the secret place. It unlocked. How did it know my thumbprint?

Wait!” I said, “KB is Kathryn Bigelow. Kathryn left this for me.”

“While you were sleeping?” Rita asked, eyebrow raised. She stood up and went to the bedroom. “I’ll try to find us some clothes.”

“Well, I guess after we made love in Charlotte’s old room. I was asleep then. She must have entered my thumbprint before she ‘left’.”

I don’t think either of us wanted to talk about my having sex with ‘Kathryn’ just then. I was feeling guilty and inadequate. Rita I could only guess about. She must have thought I was an idiot. A monster, really. I raped Charlotte’s mouth… And drove her crazy. I wondered if I could make it up to any of them.

“Why did she leave it for you?” Rita asked from the bedroom, rummaging through closets.

“I’d guess that all of Charlotte’s personal stuff is on here. I suppose Kathryn was protecting her. She told me that Charlotte ruined everything eventually. I didn’t believe her.”

Rita returned with some shorts and a couple of Charlotte’s VoltT polos. “These are enough to get us home.”

I put down the phone and dressed stiffly. Rita’s clothes were two sizes too big, but she was particularly urchin-ish that way. She looked charming bent over her phone screen, brow wrinkled.

“Wow, Frank. This all begins to make sense.”

“What?”

“I googled Benjamin Franklin Grantwell. He died in Bateaux about eight years ago.” She looked up, eyes big. “Here’s the weird thing. Rumors at the time, according to this article, were that he died of autoerotic asphyxiation…”

I put my hand to my throat.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, taking her hand and stepping out onto bright sun of the patio.

Two men were there, in suits, looking like serious business.

“Frank?!” one said, alarmed.

“Who are you?” he and I said together.

“Frank…Duke,” I said, making up a last name on the spot, extending my hand.

“You look just like…” he stood there, staring at me.

“Hold it, Jim,” said the other suit, reaching for my hand, shaking it overly firmly, giving me the appraising eye. “Mr. ‘Duke’.” He turned to Rita, “And you are?”

“Rita Reyes, sir. Charlotte’s our boss.”

“You were here last night?” he asked and confirmed my suspicion that he was a lawyer, beginning his interrogation. The other guy must be from Charlotte’s family, I thought. She had his jawline. He had my hairline, too.

The lawyer continued, “The family is very concerned for Charlotte’s safety and deeply troubled by the loss of this property.”

“How is she?” asked Rita, genuine concern clear in her voice.

“Ms Grantwell has been institutionalized and will be well taken care of.” The lawyer was matter-of-fact. The other guy looked devastated.

“When can we see her?” I asked, hoping to apologize, redeem myself.

“You may not see Ms. Grantwell. At any time,” stated the lawyer, firmly. “We will bring charges against you for endangering her life and destroying this property. Trespassing is only the simplest of those charges.”

Oh, shit, I thought. I had only wanted to retire early.

Rita looked at the other guy. “Are you Charlotte’s father?” she asked. “Was Frank your brother?”

He nodded, obviously torn by strong emotions. He let the lawyer do the talking.

But Rita touched his arm. “Mr Grantwell, we loved Charlotte, too. And we only want what’s best for her. Clearly she’s sick and needs the best care you can give her.”

The lawyer spoke, “You don’t know Ms. Grantwell and we have reason to believe you were taking advantage of her illness to your Üsküdar Escort financial advantage. The family will protect itself by any means necessary.” Clearly, he was a man used to threatening people, right or wrong.

But Rita was a savvy negotiator. You don’t separate people from their money all day long in a cell phone store without developing some serious skills.

She pulled my collar back to reveal the bruises. “I have Charlotte on video trying to strangle this man to death with a belt. She nearly succeeded. Again.” The cameras had gone up in the fire. Was she bluffing?

The father’s face fell and he began crying. The lawyer looked angry enough to break both our noses, but he put his arm around Grantwell and led him to sit on the ash-dusted brick wall. He said over his shoulder, “You won’t get a penny until I see that video.”

I waved my arms, exasperated, “We don’t want money. Just leave us alone and get Charlotte the care she needs. Don’t hide her away to prevent family scandal. Help her get better!”

Grantwell was sobbing into his hands. The lawyer looked daggers at us. “We know your addresses and other vital information, Mr. ‘Duke’. Don’t try anything.”

“We know your secret,” retorted Rita. “Leave us alone.”

With that we walked to ‘Mika’s MINI and left Bateaux for the last time. Rita took the wheel and whispered, “Mutually Assured Destruction. If we’re lucky, that’s the last we hear of that and Charlotte finally gets proper help.” It was a slow, sad drive down the shady, green allee, wondering if we would ever get all the pieces of the puzzle.

“Uhhhh, I’ve got to know,” I said, “did Marcus get his dick in my mouth sometime last night?”

“Nah,” Rita chuckled, “that’s when he realized he’d been played. When he refused is when Charlotte ran screaming from the house.”

“We all got played, didn’t we? Another question-who was that woman on the Chatterley intro page?”

“Oh, you’re not a film buff are you?” Rita laughed, “That was a scene lifted from an Almodovar short.”

“And Julie, who wrote the scores? Not a real person from SCAD?”

“She told you that? Just to make the business look more legit, I guess. Nope, that music was from a soundtrack to a Herzog film. I did a great job of editing the film to fit the music, don’t you think?” Rita asked, smiling.

“Was any of this real?” I was depressed now. Exhausted, disappointed, disillusioned, disgusted with myself for falling for it. “Why did she go to all the trouble?”

“I think part of her really wanted to kill you, Frank. I can’t imagine she expected to be working with someone who looked like her abuser. Her mental illness and the conditions precipitated her behavior last night. Like Kathryn predicted, she ruined it. And the real part is that you saved her.”

“We saved her. No, you saved her with your quick thinking.” I said forcefully, “I drove her to madness with my selfishness. I created the ‘conditions’. I’m no hero.”

“She was already sick, Frank. What I learned in the military is that heroes aren’t perfect, they just move forward anyway. They do what has to be done and don’t do a lot of second-guessing. They also learn from their mistakes.”

I looked sidelong at her as we pulled out onto the highway in the bright morning sun. “What did you do in the army anyway?”

“Educational films. Propaganda. Psy Ops.”

“Shit,” I spat, “you’re going to be a step ahead of me all the way, aren’t you?”

“I’m going to move in with you tonight.”

“See, I didn’t see that coming!” I was elated. Depressed and elated.

“Look on Charlotte’s phone at her Drive file,” Rita suggested.

I thumbed it and a couple of clicks in I hit the jackpot. “Good guess. All the videos are here. She streamed them to the cloud. You weren’t bluffing.”

“What do we do about them?” Rita asked. I guess it was a choice I could make, but should I? Is this what Kathryn had left me the phone for? It didn’t take a moment’s thought. It was the right thing to do.

“I’m deleting them,” I said, clicking.

“That’s why I’m moving in with you.” I was feeling less depressed by the minute.

“Rita, why did you believe in Chatterley?”

“Charlotte appealed to the frustrated filmmaker in me. And the frustrated nymphomaniac.”

“But you were a virgin the day before yesterday, right? That wasn’t a lie, was it?” I wouldn’t be surprised. Apparently, I would fall for anything involving sex. Foolish old man.

“No, I was a virgin. A nymphomaniac virgin who has ridiculously high standards in men.” Rita reached and took my hand and held it all the way home.

I’m a visual thinker. That’s why building things is my best creative outlet. Riding the last miles into town a model of my situation formed my mind. I pictured two large circles, side-by-side, overlapping about 10%. A classic simple Venn diagram. The left circle represented the emotional, the right represented the physical. I drew a line horizontally through the center of those circles and some distance beyond each side. I placed five dots along that line, left to right, one outside the circle on the left, one at the center of the “emotional” circle, one in the sweet spot where the two circles overlapped, one at the center of the “physical” circle and a fifth one outside to the right of that circle. This was my spectrum of choices.

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I’d been unable to keep my eyes off her all morning. She kept glancing my way and I could swear I could see a wet stain on her bikini bottom’s crotch. My wife noticed my distraction and asked me what was wrong. I shrugged it off and rolled over on my belly to hide my growing erection as I watched the older woman roll over too and spread her legs a bit to show me her spot. She knew I was watching and from twenty feet away I could catch her scent.

She got up and walked toward me and I saw her hand slip down the top of her bikini. It was thin and when she removed her hand I could see the definite expression of her arousal.

I told my wife I had to pee and grabbed a towel to hide my boner. The woman had slowed down and let me pass her without a word. She followed me into the men’s room and dropped to her knees. I pulled my suit down and her open mouth seemed hungry for it. She sucked me for a little bit and I pulled her up and sat her on the sink counter. I pulled down her top and chewed on each nipple as I worked her clit with my fingers. Finally I pushed her to lean over the sink and pulled the thin strap that covered her cunt aside. Kartal Escort I shoved all ten inches in at once.

I felt the shock run through her as she was now full but not as full as she would be when I unleashed torrents of hot cum into her cunt. I hammered her hard to her obvious delight. I reached around and pinched her nipples hard as I unloaded in her. Just as I did, two guys walked in. One was short, white, and chubby. The other was tall and black.

I pulled out and gave her my cock to clean. She sucked down every leftover drop. The two men pulled their suits down. The chubby guy had a short but fat dick. I envied the dick of the black guy. It was huge. The chubby guy sat on the counter and she began to suck him immediately. The black guy pushed what had to be twelve inches in at the same time. I didn’t stay around to watch, tempting as it was.

I laid back down on the beach blanket with my head facing the men’s room. My wife asked me why it took so long. I just told her that there was a line. In the next hour I counted ten more men who walked in. They all left smiling. I told my wife I had Tuzla Escort to pee again and made my second visit. This time I just fucked her mouth. I wondered how much cum she had swallowed that day.

As I got back to the blanket. I saw the woman sort of stagger out of the men’s room. She came back to her towel and I could see the glistening of cum running down her legs and chin. She had made no attempt to clean up. She seemed to glorify in her role of “Slut for a day”. I wondered if she had a husband at home and she was going to make him taste all that mixed cum as some sort of revenge.

The air was redolent with the smell of sex. My wife caught the scent. “Can we go home? That smell is making me horny!” I knew when we got home she would know that some of that scent was coming from me. The woman had squirted all over my balls. I had to think fast.

“Remember when we first met and we would go down to the end of this beach and wade out to sand bar and I would pull both our suit bottoms down and you would straddle me and fuck me like that?”

“Those are delicious memories. When we’d get back to the Anadolu Yakası Escort apartment we would taste the salt on and in each others bodies. It’s been years but I still remember.”

“How about if we take a walk.” She agreed and we walked hand-in-hand to the deserted end of the beach. I made sure I was upwind so she couldn’t catch the scent of the of the woman but in a few minutes my wife was giving off a scent of her own. I hadn’t seen her (or smelled her) this hot in years.

We ran into the water and splashed our way to the sand bar. We giggled like we had the first time we did it twenty years ago. I laid on my back on the sand bar in about three foot of water. She pulled my suit down to my knees and began to knead my balls with one hand and my cock with the other.

It took me a little time but I finally got hard enough for her to pull her suit bottom down and straddle me like she used to. She lowered herself on my shaft and repeatedly pulled me all the way out and did it again. I was pumping her cunt full of seawater and I knew the cum wasn’t going to be too long following. Fucking underwater is a very different experience.

She finally came and I joined her. “My god that brought back memories.!” It had for me too.

On the way home we stopped for a leisurely lunch. We rubbed calves for the first time in years. We held hands. It seemed like the scent of sex had rekindled our romance.

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All so innocent. Such a beginning. Carla knew that was the right words. Innocent.

Carla crossed her legs as she shook out her full mane of light reddish hair. Her mane her husband Ted had branded it years ago. Thick beautiful hair that she wore long and full growing up. It had attracted her husband even when they were in high school in that brief wild sexual fling that summer after graduation. He practically worshiped that mane, loving to have her completely naked out at the lake house his parents owned.

But life interrupted. College away for him; locally for her. Phone conversations often at first, then less and less; other boys had come around and that college graduate assistant and his hands and that night after the party where he made love to her all night long. And then her best friend had set her up with the guy in their math class and he was attentive and loving and she thought she’d marry him.

But Ted came back and they went back to the cabin and she was naked again on that lovely deck and he stroked her hair.

Was it really 35 years ago that they married, her only 20, he just turned 21? Two children, a great house, a good life, no regrets. Oh, she had discovered years ago that maybe Ted didn’t quite have the same sex drive she did, but she knew how to sublimate. Parties, kid raising, events, charities and after the kids grew up, the job offer. Just some light bookkeeping work. Four days a week but she liked the work and she got better and better at it. How did she end up working directly for the CFO? And why did he tease her all the time about her ‘mane’ of hair?

It was innocent, she insisted to herself. After all, he was barely 35; she’d been married that long! But it was kind of sweet too, how he insisted that she should wear clothes that set off her hair and it had been innocent that he suggested that her figure was perfect for shorter skirts, even at her age! And the cute comment that day about her cleavage, well, it had been an accident that she had left that button undone. Hadn’t it?

Carla shook her head. All so innocent. But today? She had come into his office, several forms, a critical short-fall in the regional office. Leaning over his desk, pointing to the figures, his face slightly turned upward toward her, her breast brushed the back of his shoulder, muscular shoulder. As she left, he said it.

Didn’t he?

“Carla, light blue really is your color.”

He said that right? Only her blouse was white, her skirt, maybe a tad shorter that should be..brown. Light blue?

She sat at her desk puzzled and she reached down for the folder lying on the low coffee table in her office. Looking down. Light blue. Her bra was light blue.

Innocent really. He might have been talking about a good color on her; yes, she did look good in light blue. When had she worn light blue in the office? She racked her brain. Light blue. Her bra, frilly, lacey bra, more underwire holding up her slightly sagging breasts, but very thin, her nipples always pressing against the fabric.

It was innocent. Surely.

Two hours later he walked by her desk. God, he was good looking, she thought. Barely 35, in the CFO job less than six months. Two weeks Şerifali Escort after he got there he moved the young woman out and replaced her with Carla. Experienced, he said. Knows her way around the company. Perfect for his right arm. Big raise.

“Carla,” he said to her that Friday, only weeks ago, “You are absolutely valuable to me, but don’t dress like an old lady!”

What did that mean? She’s 55, damn it; what did he think she was, one of these young women who are always thinking of excuses to see Mike.

Mike, he insisted. Yes he was Mr. Williams to everybody else; only for her, he insisted “Mike”. Innocent

“What….” she had begun that Friday, “What do you think I should wear?”

“Oh something sexier; something that shows off that body more,” he laughed, and then quickly, almost too quickly, “Just kidding.”

Then as he left that day, “But seriously, Carla, less old lady; you look wonderful, show it!”

She had gone to the department store that weekend. Went through her traditional section, the girl waiting on her seemed bored. She moved over a section. Still business attire but….. the silk blouse between her fingers, “You’ll need a soft bra, something lacey, light to wear with that,” the girl perked up. Then a skirt, a little short but her legs did look good in it. Her dimunitive 5’2″ frame but strong legs, maybe her butt seemed a bit frumpy in it. “Thong” the girl said smiling at her.

Two then three outfits later she took them home and tried them again. No, no, she thought, too…..

And then Monday she wore a traditional outfit. Mike said nothing but.

He looked disappointed. She really didn’t want him to be disappointed.

She tried on the new outfit that evening. Ted walked in and looked at her for a second. Maybe a second look, a comment, ‘not appropriate’ or ‘sexy’ or ‘where did you get that?” Nothing. Nothing from Ted.

So she wore the new outfit. A couple of the girls turned and looked at her; she felt her cheeks flush. Mike came in. Said nothing. Well, not true, “Curtain contract, Carla; where is it?” All work.

The next day back to the careful outfit. Mike walks past her desk. He stops and turns. “What happened?” he says. She shakes her head not sure of what he is saying.

“The new look, what happened; where’d it go?” She couldn’t speak.

The next day the second new outfit. Again, the looks from the girls, one even said, “God, that’s really nice”. But nothing from Mike until the end of the day. She brought him the contracts; signing rapidly, he glances at her and pauses. Really only pauses, nothing inappropriate and yet, she felt the blush move through her body even a little heat, maybe a little moisture too.

And so, the new comment. Light blue. She flushed again, she felt the wetness again. “My lord, girl, what is wrong with you?” she said under her breath. He’s 35, single, dating that sexy girl in the photo on his desk; she looks like she could fuck him all night long, wrapping her legs around his strong back as he takes his cock and pushes it in her wet pussy, roughly, wildly.

“What the f……” Carla shook her head.

Light blue. Yeah, all so………….. innocent.

The İstanbul Escort day was long, Carla had to go to the headquarters building twice that day; walking across the sundrenched plaza. Her heels, four inches, light, toes wiggling free without hose on the warm spring day, her skirt swaying around her hips, the little string between her cheeks, feeling kind of sexy, little beads of sweat sliding down her blouse, into her cleavage, undo just a button, get a little air there. Better.

Back in the office, everyone leaving for the day, got to get the changes to Mike. Hurrying into his office rounding the corner, he coming out at the same time. Bumping into him at full speed, his hands come up probably to grab her shoulders so he doesn’t knock her over, only they don’t get that far.

Her breasts, his big hands slam together. The air explodes out of her chest, he holds harder, her breasts grasped tightly as she starts backward on her heels, her foot sliding out of one, turning slightly she falls back, hitting the side of the office door, he falls forward too, his hands still firmly wrapped around her breasts he falls heavily against her body. Woof, he exhales and they tumble together to the floor, her legs opening around him, her butt hitting the carpeted floor, he follows her to the floor, his crotch, his package slams down hard there. There. Right there on top of her mound.

Moments pass. Neither of them moves for seconds. Ten? Twenty? “Mike?” she says, her voice shaking.

He looks into her eyes, his face literally in front of hers. “My…um, your hands…..?” she whispers.

“Oh God,” he says and rolls away from her, but as he does, his hands. Well they don’t leave her breasts for another 5-10 seconds and as they do. His thumbs, do they, scrape hard across her nipples, roughly? And does his…..god, his cock, is it hard against her, does she feel him push against her mound as he struggles up, she looks down, his cock is thicker, harder in his dress slacks.

So innocent.

“So sorry,” he mutters as he moves away, she hands him the papers. His eyes, yes, they are looking down. She struggles up; his hands have opened her blouse, the buttons torn free to her navel, her breasts in the light blue bra are exposed, her nipples rock hard, extended from the roughness of his hands. Her nipples burning with excitement from the roughness of his thumbs scrapping them.

She pulls the blouse together but his eyes are looking at her, she realizes at her waist. Her skirt, up, up oh so high, her little matching blue thong exposed, pressed up hard against her, maybe pushed in as well, inside her?

She struggles out of the office, pulling herself together; she glances back, he is looking at her.

So innocent? No, his eyes are flashing with desire, hunger.

That night in the shower. Alone she inspects her breasts, bruised, a handprint clearly on her right breast. Her nipples still erect. Her pussy. Pussy. She never uses that word. Pussy. Her hands slide down, opening her, “Mike,” she whispers as she rakes a nail across her clit, ‘ohhhhh myyyyyy’ she groans as she slides down the shower wall, her fingers moving faster, ‘oh Mike!” she moans as she Ümraniye Escort comes quickly, masturbating wildly. Masturbating. Her? A middle aged wife? Masturbating to the image of her boss taking her on that office floor, roughly tearing her clothes off, ‘fuck me, Mike’ she growls as she arches her back, coming hard the water streaming over her body.

The next day she dresses conservatively. Plain gray dress, buttoned up high, down to her mid-calf. Only. Only she wears a new light pink bra and pink tiny thong, having shaved herself clean last night. My god, what am I doing? She thought. After all, it was so……….. innocent.

Mike was kind, even brought her a new cup for her desk, for her tea, bright, almost cute. “About yesterday…..” he began. She shook her head, “My fault; clumsy of me” “No,” he said quietly standing now next to his desk, she just the other side of the desk, “No, I…I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t hurt you…….. there.” he said.

“Hurt,” she stammered for a second, “No, I. It just, you mean… um, where?”

He nodded at her breasts, “They are ok, yes?”

She blushed deeply and couldn’t quite look at him.

“No really, Carla, did I hurt you there?” he said as he stepped a step around the side of the desk. Oh, danger, she thought, too close, don’t come too close she thought.

“No, really, it’s, they, well,” she whispered looking up at him for a just a second.

And in that second, was it innocence looking back at her? No, it wasn’t. It was lust, or hunger or even animal looking at her, just for a second and then ‘so innocent’ came back. But in that instant, god in that instant, Carla felt her pussy spasm, her moisture literally push against her little mound, soaking the little covering.

“They are fine, a little bruised,” she said quietly now looking into his eyes. There! She saw it again, the flash, heat, lust, hunger. He took another step forward now less than two feet from her, his hands reached out for the dress. He took the top button and twisted it and it came free, and then a second.

“Mike?” she said quietly but he didn’t stop, each button coming free one after another until he pushed his hands inside and up over her shoulders. The dress went back and cascaded down her, falling to the floor. She was standing next to his desk, her dress on the floor, in her pink sheer bra and tiny little string, swaying on her heels.

He reached down and grabbed the front closure on her little bra, “Mike?” she whispered. They were standing next to his desk, in a busy office, door open to her outer office, her door open beyond it as she felt her bra open, her breasts come free, “Mike?” she whispered as he reached around her and pushed the door closed and he bent down and kissed her hard, his hands, big hands, now enveloping her breasts, his thumbs rubbing across her nipples.

So innocent, she thought as she felt a hand move down her bare stomach and grab the little panty and pull, ‘rippppp’ it went as she let out a little squeal realizing in that split instant that she was naked in her boss’ office! She pushed against him and he stepped back. She stared at him for a second and then reached for her dress and pulled it back up over her body, his eyes dancing over her body as she buttoned it over her nakedness. She turned and just before she left the office, her bra on the floor still, her torn panties in his hands, she smiled and said, “Later”

Because no longer.

So innocent.

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Troy, New York in 1975, where Jimmy, the nerd captain of the school’s chess team, discovers women at the ripe old age of 18.

***

“Come on in Jimmy,” Mrs. Biondi said, stepping aside after I had knocked on the door, and as soon as I walked in the modest rural home I knew that this was going to be a great day.

Mrs. Biondi was Becky’s mother, and while Becky was supposed to be the reason I kept showing up at 2:45 every afternoon, the only reason I was there was to spend time with Mrs. Biondi, who was a goddess in my eyes.

Becky was Mrs. Biondi’s youngest child, and although she was only 14 she had shown an incredible talent for chess. She was in 9th grade and wasn’t even in high school yet, but was so good that the school let her play with the high school team.

Since I was the captain of the team I had taken an interest in young Becky, because not only was she an asset to our team but she would be a major contributor to our school’s team in the future.

Bullshit aside, while I did enjoy playing chess, and did want our school to do well then and in the future, my interests were not about Becky or chess but in her mother.

Even today, I would find it hard to explain to someone why I became infatuated by the twice divorced mother of four, the youngest of which was Becky, a very timid kid who seemed to be good at nothing except chess.

Mrs. Biondi wasn’t beautiful, although to me she was. She was an amazon of sorts, standing about 5’9″ or so, and while she wasn’t lean and trim by any standards, she was in good shape for a woman around 50.

Mrs. Biondi had a body that was peculiar, to say the least. She was built almost like a caricature, with a small butt – certainly compared to the rest of her – and legs that weren’t bad at all.

Above the waist was a whole different story. Her arms were a little plump but solid, and I could never really tell if she had a thick waist or not, but there was a good reason for that, and it wasn’t all because she wore loose fitting tops.

Her breasts. You couldn’t help but notice them, because they were huge. Even though she did everything possible to camouflage them you couldn’t help but see that those boobs were gigantic, and all fall and winter I had made a point of staring at them every chance I got.

I had gotten an inkling of how big they were one day when I had used the bathroom, and there hanging on the curtain rod of the shower was Mrs. Biondi’s bra. It didn’t have her name on it but it sure wasn’t Becky’s. I locked the door and took it off of the rod where it was drying and examined it like it was some sort of national treasure.

It was a long-line bra with five hooks, more on the side that the middle of the back, and after I played with the cavernous cups I checked the back for the size tag. Unfortunately, the tag was unreadable because the harness was old, so I was left to use my imagination.

Becky must have thought I got lost, because I was in the bathroom for a long time. I did everything possible to the bra, even hanging it on a hook and pretending I was standing in front of Mrs. Biondi and squeezing the empty cups.

In the end, I had an erection that wouldn’t go away, and so I dropped my pants and jerked off, pulling on my long, skinny prong for about ten seconds before popping a load into the toilet and the surrounding area. I felt like a pervert while cleaning up the mess of course, but it was worth it.

On that day in spring, I knew it was going to be a special one after Mrs. Biondi had let me in. I was in heaven because she was wearing a blouse that, while not revealing, was certainly more form fitting than the usual flannel tops and sweatshirts she had worn during the colder months.

Just another reason to be happy that the weather was getting warmer, I thought as I engaged in idle chit-chat with Becky’s mother, all the while trying not to stare at those incredible breasts that stuck out so far.

Additionally, the white and pink blouse had short sleeves that were a little baggy, so I kept hoping for a chance to peek into the armhole and see her breasts from the side encased in that magnificent harness. That’s how desperate I was to get a glimpse of any part of Mrs. Biondi.

She had gotten used to me being underfoot for the hour or so until Becky’s bus dropped her off every weekday, and she probably thought I was harmless because I was such a nerd. I hoped she didn’t think I was interested in Becky because I surely wasn’t. 18 year old guys dating 14 year old girls would get you laughed out of school, and I was already the butt of too many jokes because I was the classic skinny nerd.

I could see the outline of the straps of Mrs. Biondi’s bra through the fabric of the blouse, and when she started to take things out of the cupboard to get dinner ready I casually slid over to watch.

She had nice arms, I noticed, a little plump but nicely shaped, and when she reached up to get something I walked over to offer my assistance.

“I thought I had more İstanbul Escort bread crumbs up there,” Mrs. Biondi said as she moved things around on the top shelf, and even though at best we were the same height I offered to help look, my eyes fixed on the hanging sleeve and her upraised arm.

I never got to see her breasts from the side that day although I got to see plenty, because when I looked down her sleeve I learned that Mrs. Biondi didn’t shave her armpits. This was 1975, and there were a couple of girls who thought they were hippies and had hair under their arms, but nothing like this.

I don’t know how long I stood there staring down Mrs. Biondi’s sleeve while I was supposed to be looking for bread crumbs, but it was long enough for her to clear her throat, the sound of which broke me out of my trance.

I was busted, and the only saving grace was that I did find a container of bread crumbs hidden in the back of the top shelf. I suspect that my face was every bit as red as it felt, although Mrs. Biondi seemed more amused than upset.

Becky finally showed up and that got me away from Mrs. Biondi but it didn’t get that image out of my mind, because Becky kicked my ass every game until her dinner time. Mrs. Biondi asked me if I wanted to stay for dinner, like she often did, but I declined because I had other issues.

I took off through the little patch of woods that separated our neighborhoods, and after I made sure no one was aroused I took out my best friend. That was no easy task because not only was I hard, my drooling had fused me to the cotton.

Once free, I closed my eyes and replayed that image in my head; that nicely shaped arm, the deep hollow of her underarm, and the jungle of black hair that filled it. Not just a little wisp like I had, but a thick tuft that seemed to overflow the crater it grew in.

I managed to last about 30 seconds this time, which was good for me, and the best thing was that I didn’t have to clean up the mess like I would have had to at home. Having gotten masturbation down to an art form was yet another one of my dubious skills, and had been the extent of my sex life at that point.

In fact, the only sexual experience I had with anyone was a hand job. It was a birthday present from the sister of a friend of mine. Karen was a chubby girl who was a year older than me, and my friend had let it out that it was my birthday.

When I left his house Karen was following me, and while we got along okay it wasn’t like we were friends or anything. In that very same patch of woods she caught up with me and told me she wanted to give me a birthday kiss. I had necked with girls a couple of times before, so the kiss was nothing new.

“Are your parents home,” Karen asked, and I nodded.

She made a face and asked me if I wanted another kiss, and I said sure, and this time along with the kiss came a grab of my crotch, which got my attention.

March 16 at 3 in the afternoon. It was a cloudy day and the temperature was barely above freezing. There was still some snow on the ground, and where there wasn’t snow there was mud so after Karen looked around and said there wasn’t any place better, asked me if I wanted her to jerk me off.

I think the hand would have been her mouth if the ground was dry, and if my mother wasn’t home, who knows? Anyway, I said yes and there I was standing in the woods, my teeth chattering and my pants down around my knees, and Karen’s chubby hand was cold.

“Sorry,” Karen said as she began to pull on my limp dick, and as her hand warmed my cock started to get hard. “Hey, you got a pretty big dick for a little guy.”

“I do?” I asked.

“It’s not very thick but it’s pretty long. Bigger than Brian’s,” Karen said, and then told me that she had caught him jerking off once, which was how she knew.

Her pudgy fist kept pumping hard and because of the combination of the cold, my nerves and an unfamiliar hand my usual rapid fire was delayed.

“Sorry,” I apologized when Karen changed her grip and moved a little behind me, because I thought she was getting annoyed with how long it was taking. “Usually a lot faster.”

“It’s okay Jimmy,” Karen said. “I like doing this. You even been laid?”

“Me – uh…”

“I guess that means no,” Karen said. “That’s okay though. Would you want to fuck me sometime?”

“Uh – yeah, I guess,” I mumbled, and soon I was on the brink.

“Oh!” I groaned and then I was spurting all over the winter wonderland while Karen milked every drop out of me. After I was limp she let go of my dick, calmly licked the rope of cum off of the back of her hand, and told me to give her a call sometime when my folks were out of the house.

Just like that, Karen left, and I pulled up my pants and went to the corner store to buy a quart of Genesee beer to celebrate. I went right back to the place I had just lost my sort-of virginity and drank the beer in the freezing cold.

That was a month ago, and I didn’t call Karen. Not Kadıköy Escort because she was unattractive because I was no prize myself, but because I wanted my first time to be special, and in my mind there was only one woman that would qualify. Mrs. Biondi.

***

The next day that I stopped at Mrs. Biondi’s house she didn’t answer the door when I knocked. I assumed she must have gone to the store or something so I sat on the porch for a minute and waited. The day was even warmer than the day before so I took my jacket off and tied it around my waist.

I heard a squeaking sound from the back yard, so I walked along the side of the house to the back. The squeaking sound continued, and when I got around to the back I saw clothes dancing along the clothesline, making the trip from the back porch where Mrs. Biondi was clipping the clothes on the line and pushing to line along.

There was one of her bras already on the line, but I had something much better to look at, and I savored the seconds before she saw me. Mrs. Biondi was wearing a pink sleeveless blouse, and it made her breasts seem ever larger because it was snug. I could see the outline of the bra cups as I approached, which every step getting me a better angle.

Mrs. Biondi was startled to see me and I mumbled something about knocking, but I was too busy staring under her upraised arm to pay attention to what she was saying. She was standing on the back porch about a foot above me, giving me a prime view up the underside of her massive breasts, but when I looked over I was shocked.

Shaved. Gone was the wild jungle of hair, and now the large craters were barren, although I could see a dense five o’clock shadow that covered the entire hollow and up the inside of her arm a bit.

When I glanced over, Mrs. Biondi was staring at me again like she did yesterday only even more so, and then she glanced over to her underarm since it must have been clear where I was staring.

“You okay, Jimmy?” she asked as she went back to putting the clothes on the line. “Something wrong?”

“No – uh – you shaved,” I mumbled for some reason.

“What? Oh yeah, although you’d never know it now,” Mrs. Biondi said. “Why do you – oh! I get it. I was wondering what you were staring at yesterday in the kitchen. I thought you were looking somewhere else. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t scared,” I said.

“Warm weather is coming up and I don’t think people are ready for what I look like during the winter.”

“I liked it. I thought it was sexy,” I heard myself saying.

“Is that so? Boy, I guess my daughter has a crush on a kinky guy,” Mrs. Biondi said with a grin.

“A crush?” I said.

“Haven’t you noticed?” Mrs. Biondi asked. “I thought you two were sweet on each other but you were too shy to make a move.”

“Becky?” I said. “I’m not interested in Becky – I mean she’s a nice enough kid and all, but she’s a kid. I’m 18.”

“You are?” Mrs. Biondi said. “I – I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“No, I just come over here to help her prepare for the chess tournaments,” I said.

“Better not tell Becky that,” Mrs. Biondi quipped. “She’ll stop letting you win sometimes if she heard that.”

“Letting me win?”

“That’s what she told me,” Mrs. Biondi said. “I don’t know the game, but she says she doesn’t try hard sometimes so you keep coming back. Please don’t tell her I said this.”

“I won’t,” I said, starting to feel like an idiot.

“I shouldn’t have presumed anything,” Mrs. Biondi said. “I couldn’t think of any other reason why you would come over here every day like that.”

“If chess was the only reason, I would be here an hour later,” I told her, and then waited for Mrs. Biondi to figure it out, but she was way ahead of me.

“I know,” she said softly. “I mean, I suspected as much and I guess I should have said something. Guess I liked being looked at for a change, but I didn’t really mean to lead you on. I remember having crushes on guys.”

“I don’t think it’s a crush,” I mumbled.

“Is it because of these?” Mrs. Biondi asked, pointing at her breasts and in embarassment I looked away and pawed at the ground. “If that’s what it is, let me tell you something. I think you look at Playboy pictures too much. Mine don’t look like that, believe me.”

“Maybe at first, but it’s more than that now,” I said, struggling to keep from getting emotional. “I love the way you kid around, and the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. I love when I get to talk to you every day before Becky gets here. You treat me like a adult instead of a kid.”

“You’re a very mature young man,” Mrs. Biondi said. “Very intelligent and polite, although your taste in women is a bit screwy.”

“Don’t say that – please,” I said, because while I knew she was just trying to be funny, I didn’t think being her love with her was weird, or a joke.

I had taken the two steps up to the porch, so I could avoid having her looking down at me, and as we stared at Ataşehir Escort each other the sound of the front door closing broke the tension.

“Saturday – Becky’s father has her for the day,” Mrs. Biondi said as she grabbed her empty laundry basket. “If you want to come over we can talk some more.”

***

How do you prepare for a day when you aren’t really sure what it entailed? Part of me thought that she wanted me – wanted me like I wanted her – yet when I looked in the mirror, I thought the idea was absurd. Mrs. Biondi was a woman, and an amazon to boot.

She outweighed me and was a little taller than me to boot, and if we ever wrestled she would probably kill me. Ever hear the saying ‘I’m a lover, not fighter’? I was neither. I was a man only technically. Physically, except for having a pretty long dick, I was pathetic.

So I concluded that Mrs. Biondi just wanted to talk. Maybe she wanted me to teach her how to play chess, because she had mentioned that once, so with that in mind I went over around 11, which was a little after Becky’s father picked her up for the weekend.

I was dressed as neatly as possible, even shaving, which was silly since nothing was happening to get rid of. I knocked on the door like always, but the door had already started to open when my knuckles hit the wood.

“Oh – sorry,” I said as the door opened and Mrs. Biondi motioned me to come in, looking around outside to make sure nobody was around.

My apology was for the fact that I must have screwed up the time I was supposed to be there because Mrs. Biondi was wearing a bathrobe. It was like she had just woken up, although I noticed that her long wavy hair was brushed and she had on a little make-up, which she rarely wore.

I followed her to the kitchen, which was not unusual, but Mrs. Biondi didn’t stop there but kept going. I stopped at the end of the kitchen and looked down the hall.

“Are you trying to give me a chance to change my mind?” she asked after turning around and facing me while standing next to the open door of her bedroom for a second before going in.

On legs that felt as if they were made of rubber I staggered down the hall with the realization that this was really happening. This wasn’t one of my fantasies because in those dreams I was a suave and cool ladies man who was in control, not a sweaty and frantic kid who suddenly figured out that this wasn’t going to be an afternoon of playing spin the bottle.

I got to the open doorway and looked in to the bedroom where Mrs. Biondi was standing at the side of her bed waiting nervously, although not nearly as much as I was.

“Coming in?”

“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled. “Should I close the door?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, and then as she probably wondered what the hell was wrong with me she added, “Look Jimmy, if you don’t want to…”

“I do!” I almost shouted and then lowered my voice. “I just – I mean I’m just nervous.”

“Me too. You don’t think I do this every day do you?”

“No,” I said, and it was then that Mrs. Biondi shrugged the bathrobe off of her rounded shoulders, and there was nothing underneath except Mrs. Biondi, a whole lot of Mr. Biondi.

“Oh man,” I mumbled to myself as I looked at the first live naked woman I had ever seen in real life, and while she was right that she didn’t look like any of the women in Playboy, there weren’t any of them that were going to stand naked in front of me now or anytime soon.

She got tired of me standing there staring at her after about a minute, at which point she sort of wrapped her arms in front of her and started shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Should I?” I asked as I tried to indicate that I was asking whether I should take my clothes off with some primitive hand gesturing, because my voice failed me.

“That would help,” she said.

“I’m not good at this girl stuff, and you’re so pretty – even better than I dreamed,” I managed while fumbling for my top shirt button while staring at her voluptuous form.

Those breasts – and there was no way to avoid them because they commanded your attention – hung down to her waist. I tried to think of something to compare them with but came up blank because they were bigger than footballs but smaller than watermelons and she had crimson nipples that looked as big as bullets centered on auroelas that were the diameter of baseballs.

Below that, unlike most of the girls in Playboy Mrs. Biondi had pubic hair, and even the ones that did had nothing to compare with the very wide triangle of dark brown hair that blocked any view of what was under the jungle.

Then below that, the woman had legs that were almost like a ballet dancer, slender and so out of place with the upper part of her, and her butt was small as well. It was as if she had been assembled in the dark with parts of two bodies, but while it wasn’t symmetrical it was as erotic a sight as I could imagine.

And then she was in front of me. Tired of watching me drool and fumble in an attempt to unbutton my shirt, she had come over to me and was doing it for me, and while her fingers were trembling a little too they were nothing like mine. The fact that she was looking down at me – physically because she was a couple inches taller – was no help to me.

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All characters are over the age of 21.

*****

I was new to the talent industry. My background in business and office management was strong, but I was completely clueless when it came to the entertainment field. When my new boss suggested I attend a public talent search, I jumped at the chance. Of course, it meant being out of town over the weekend, and because I hated traveling alone, I invited a girlfriend to tag along.

The talent search itself was about as exciting as attending a college orientation. The days were long, the interviews tedious, and the so-called talent numbered roughly one in ten thousand. By the end of the first day, we were both exhausted.

We rallied enough to have a late dinner and drinks together at a five-star restaurant near the hotel where we were staying. At the time, there was nothing notable about the evening, but it would come to pass that against astronomical odds, I would run into an individual who would have an indirect impact on my life.

Gina and I were having after-dinner drinks when I happened to glance at a couple seated nearby. I recognized the woman not as someone I knew, but someone I had seen earlier in the day. She was average looking, in her early forties, with short dark hair.

Her companion was an older stout man who represented himself as a small-time producer during the talent search. I wouldn’t have noticed either of them had they not been present at the search. The one thing that struck me as odd about them was how cozy they seemed. Most older couples don’t usually make a public display of their affection.

When he kissed her, I couldn’t help but feel a small pang of jealousy. The kiss was long and passionate. It had been quite some time since a man had kissed me that way. When the kiss ended, the woman turned her head and looked directly at me. I looked away quickly, embarrassed that I had inadvertently intruded on their moment of romantic bliss.

I immediately dismissed the incident and it was forgotten. At least for the time being.

*****

I stopped at the door to the acting studio and glanced up at the blinking red light overhead. It signaled filming was in progress, and I hesitated before cautiously opening the door and quietly stepping inside. I waited patiently, papers in hand, while the director continued his instructions to the cast.

Mr. Micheli turned his head in my direction and frowned. He had lost the attention of his audience as they were all staring expectantly at me. “What is it? Didn’t you see the red light on?” he snapped at me.

“May I have a word with you, sir?” I asked softly. Performance artists are temperamental in general. I had learned not to let their façade of rudeness dissuade me.

He nodded sharply and took several long strides towards me. “Make it quick, please. We’re in the middle of rehearsals.”

I cut to the chase. “You requested use of the center on these days,” I said, displaying the papers for his inspection. “I’m afraid the studio is unavailable for those particular days.”

“Impossible! I need those dates and only those dates. Reschedule someone else.” Already his focus was back to the cast as he barked orders at them, instead of listening to my explanation.

“I’m afraid you don’t understand, sir. We can’t reschedule anyone else.”

He turned his head slowly to look at me again. His dark eyes were piercing as he spoke. “I’m afraid you are the one who doesn’t understand, young lady. I begin teaching at the university again after that weekend, and I need the use of the studio before then. Just do your job and reschedule the other people,” he demanded hoarsely. “Never mind! I’ll speak to Richard about it myself in the morning. Go away now. I’m busy!”

I had been effectively dismissed. I sighed with resignation and let myself out of the studio.

I had only been working for Richard a short time, four months to be precise. Not everyone involved with the agency knew who I was, or the position I held. Being more reserved than most, I went out of my way to keep a low profile. My official title was Center Director, and I answered to no one other than Richard who did little to override my day to day decisions in running the business.

The acting department of the agency had undergone extensive changes over the past few months. It was headed by James who made all decisions based upon my approval. It was improbable that Richard would overrule any decision James made and I approved, but Mr. Micheli was naively unaware of that fact.

*****

The following morning, Richard met with me in my office to discuss business over coffee. He chuckled as I described my brief and unsuccessful meeting with Mr. Micheli the night before.

“Richard, the weekend he requested is ‘Showcase Weekend’. We have three casting directors flying in from Los Angeles for the showcase. Now, I’m sorry, but Mr. Micheli does not take priority over that,” I stated with a firm shake of my head.

“He didn’t even bother to discuss Anadolu Yakası Escort it with James first. He flew off the handle at me, and I guess, decided to go over my head to you about it.”

“Speak of the devil,” Richard grumbled with a smug look as he peered through the blinds into the reception area. “He’s here.”

A moment later, there was a sharp rap on the office door. “Come in,” Richard called.

The door opened and Marc Micheli came striding purposefully into the office. Marc was a tall, lean and muscular man in his early forties. His black hair was beginning to tinge with grey at the temples and his dark eyes and swarthy complexion added to his mystique. On those rare occasions when he wasn’t snapping and snarling, he had an attractive smile.

While we had not been formally introduced, we had encountered one another, passing in the corridors or unexpectedly meeting in the break-room now and then. There was one incident that came about when I was transferring files from one storage cabinet to another; I inadvertently dropped a stack of important records and stopped short to bend over and pick them up.

Marc was exiting James’ office and he literally rear-ended me. Except for his quick reflexes, the force of our collision would have toppled me onto my head, but he steadied me by grabbing my hips. My clumsiness embarrassed me to the point that afterwards, I avoided looking him directly in the eyes. Up until the day before, that was the full extent of our contact.

Marc stopped short at the sight of me sitting in the seat behind the Center Director’s desk. “I’m sorry, Richard. I didn’t know you had company,” he hesitated as he frowned at me.

“Oh, it’s quite alright, Marc. I wouldn’t exactly call Cindy ‘company’. I guess you two haven’t met yet,” Richard said still looking smug. “Cindy this is Marc, one of our acting directors. Marc, this is Cindy. She’s the Center Director now,” Richard explained.

Marc stiffened, and surprise was clearly etched in his expression. “Center Director? You mean…” he began to stammer nervously.

“That’s right, Marc. I mean…meet your new boss,” Richard chuckled softly. “Cindy, I believe we’ve concluded our business for the morning. I think I’ll get out of your hair and let you two become better acquainted,” Richard said as he gave me a wink and turned up the last swallow of coffee in his cup.

“But, Richard…” Marc sputtered in response.

“Marc, for all practical purposes, I’m retired now. Anything you feel you need to discuss with me, you can now discuss with Cindy. She’s proved herself more than capable of speaking on my behalf,” Richard said firmly.

“Oh, but there is one thing, Marc. Your request for staff to fill the empty roles in your next workshop? I believe it begins this coming Monday,” Richard said with a worried look. “The only staff available to fill those spots are Gwen and Cindy. You’ll be sure you two are there, won’t you, Cindy? The acting program is depending on it,” he prompted.

“Richard, I’d really rather not,” I began to protest his suggestion while I uneasily eyed Marc. “I have too much to do around here already. I simply don’t have time to learn scripts and run lines.”

“Make time,” Richard retorted sharply over his shoulder as he flung the office door wide. “I expect you to fully support the acting program. That means, the two of you will find a way to work closely together. That’s my last official order.” He closed the door behind him leaving both Marc and I with our jaws sagging low.

Marc placed his hands on his hips and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. He let out a long sigh and said with resignation, “Well, I guess that’s that.”

“I guess it is,” I agreed with a sigh that matched his own frustration. “Would you care for a cup of coffee?” I asked with enthusiasm as I pushed back my chair and stood.

His attention returned to me. He narrowed his eyes somewhat and studied me in detail a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me you are my boss and not just some receptionist or secretary? Two weeks ago, you were answering phones at the front desk. You let me make a fool of myself,” he stated with obvious displeasure.

“I do a lot of things around here that aren’t in my job description. I do whatever needs doing, and that includes cleaning toilets as well as answering phones. It didn’t seem to me that you needed my help in looking foolish, Marc; I thought you did a fine job on your own. Black?” I snipped.

He scowled at me or perhaps more at my sarcasm.

I crossed the room and paused with my hand on the doorknob. “Your coffee…black?” I asked again. He nodded sharply. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll be back with your coffee.”

When I returned, Marc was seated in a chair across from my desk. His hands were clasped together between his knees and he was muttering aloud, seemingly to himself. He abruptly stood and cleared his throat when he heard the door hinges squeak as I entered. I was mildly impressed Pendik Escort by his manners as I placed a steaming cup of black coffee in his hands. I could feel his gaze follow me as I rounded the executive desk and seated myself behind it.

He stared at the cup in his hand for a moment. His face was flushed and he looked almost miserable as he said, “Deidre is going to kill me when she hears about this. Is there anything else I could possibly do wrong to offend you, Miss…uh?”

“Miss nothing. Call me Cindy, please. What have you done now, Marc?” I asked sounding mildly amused.

“You mean besides assuming you were a secretary? And, threatening to go over your head? Now, I’ve got you fetching my coffee! Like I said, Deidre is going to kill me,” he said dejectedly. “Why didn’t you tell me you are our new boss?”

I sat back in my chair and said, “Marc, let’s get a few things straight between us, shall we?” I could see him squirm in his chair as he looked at the floor. “You didn’t give me much of a chance to tell you anything last night. I’m not your ‘boss’. I have a title, but just between you and me, it means absolutely nothing. And, as for me getting you coffee, I’ve been bringing men coffee for most of my life. That’s nothing new for me, and it isn’t about to change now. I’ve been bringing Daniel and James coffee every morning since the day I started working here.”

“The ‘Center Director’ sign on the door along with the fact you sign my paychecks, does sort of indicate you are the boss around here,” he argued.

“I sign the checks for convenience sake, Marc. Not one penny out of my pocket goes into yours. Besides, you’re contract labor; that makes you your own boss.”

He sipped his coffee and sat back in the chair. “Deidre keeps telling me that I’m a male chauvinist pig. She’s going to kill me if she hears how stupid I’ve been,” he said shaking his head in self-recrimination. “You won’t tell her, will you?”

“I take it Deidre is your wife?” I asked with an arched brow. He nodded looking embarrassed again. “I should have guessed. Same last name and all,” I smiled weakly. “Deidre and I met last week, but I didn’t realize she was your wife. As much as I would like to gossip with her about you, I promise, I won’t say a word,” I said as I mockingly made the sign of a cross over my heart.

“I’d really appreciate that. She rags me enough about it as it is. She doesn’t need to hear about this to make me feel like a complete idiot.”

“Micheli. That’s Italian if I’m not mistaken, isn’t it?” I asked with an effort to redirect the conversation.

“Yes, very. You even pronounced it correctly. Do you speak Italian?” he asked curiously.

“No, but I’m from New Orleans. I picked up on a few of the inflections while I was there.”

“I thought New Orleans is all French-speaking people.”

“Not at all. It’s a diverse culture. I’ve known a few Italians in my time. They’re very…interesting,” I said as I averted my gaze to the schedule laying on my desk. “Now, about the use of the studio…the weekend you requested is completely out of the question, Marc. It’s ‘Showcase’ weekend.”

His frown deepened. “Oh, I see. Well, I begin teaching again the following week, so what can we do?”

“I can give you any other dates except that weekend. You can schedule for as many dates as you need, day or night, or both if you like.”

“I can stretch it into three or four sessions?”

“Certainly. Tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen,” I assured him.

“No one has ever allowed me to use the studio for more than one session before.”

“That was the past, Marc. I’m running the show now, or haven’t you noticed the changes?”

“Now that you mention it, I have noticed some recent changes. Did you know, for the first time since I came to work here, we have complete scripts? It doesn’t take days to pull the scripts anymore either. When I come in now, my class outline and the scripts are ready and waiting for me. That’s certainly new and improved protocol,” he declared with a snort. “I asked James about it and he said you are responsible for reorganizing the entire filing system. Of course, I didn’t realize when he said ‘you’, he meant you, as in our boss.”

“I’m glad to know my efforts have paid off a little. But, would you please stop calling me your boss?” I pleaded. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Sorry. I’m having a little trouble seeing you as anything but the boss now.”

“Maybe it would help if you try to think of me as your assistant. I’m not here to tell you how to direct. I’m here to assist you in directing more efficiently. You shouldn’t have to worry about pulling scripts; your job is to direct and evaluate. My job is to see to it you have all the tools available to succeed…that and to bring you fresh coffee,” I laughed.

Marc smiled at me for the first time. “Is that really how you see it?” he asked looking infinitely more relaxed.

“Yes, that’s how I see it, and I’d appreciate Kurtköy Escort it if you would make the effort to see it my way, too. It will make our relationship much easier and much more pleasant.”

“Deidre doesn’t see it that way. She’s constantly reminding me of how chauvinistic I am. She gets mad when I ask her what’s for dinner for God’s sake,” he complained.

“Umm,” I murmured in sympathy. “Would you like some more coffee?” I offered. I was not eager to engage him in conversation about his wife.

Marc glanced at his nearly empty cup and grunted. “No. Thank you. I’ll get some more on my way out.” He paused before he added with vehemence, “I love my wife, but I don’t understand all this women’s lib crap these days.”

“Perhaps we’re both just a little behind the times,” I suggested quietly.

“You feel that way, too? That’s a little surprising what with you running this place now.”

“I have a great supporting staff, Marc. Most of them are men, and they make doing this job a lot easier for me. I couldn’t do my job without any one of them. James heads the acting program, of course, and Vince is my technical adviser when it comes to photography issues. Tim is my choreographer. Then there’s Kelsey, William, Ron, and yourself. You each have your own areas of expertise. I swear, sometimes, I feel like the token female around here,” I sighed.

“So, am I out of Dutch with you now?” he asked.

“You were never ‘in Dutch’ with me in the first place, Marc. Let’s just start from scratch, shall we?”

He remained uneasy but said, “I’ll look at my schedule and check with the cast. I’ll let you know tomorrow what dates and times that we need the studio.”

“That’s fine. I’ll keep all the slots open until you let me know,” I assured him. “Now, would you please get out of my office so I can get some real work done?” I teased.

He grinned and headed for the door.

“Marc?” I called as he made his exit. He paused and looked back at me over his shoulder. “Anytime you feel the need for a cup of coffee, stop by,” I said without looking up.

“You can bring me one Monday night when you show up for my workshop,” he retorted before closing the door behind him.

*****

The following day, Marc marched into my office unannounced. He laid a piece of scrap paper on the desk in front of me. I was busy reviewing accounts.

“Those are the dates and times I need the studio,” he said gruffly.

“Done!” I proclaimed without averting my attention from the records I was examining.

“You haven’t even looked at them,” he objected.

“I don’t need to look at them right now. I’m busy. Whatever they are, you’ve got them,” I said assertively. His continued presence made me glance up at him. “Was there something else? Did you want coffee?” I asked with an edge of sarcasm.

“I’ll get my own fucking coffee, thank you,” he snapped before he retreated in a huff. I laughed silently at his irritation. “Just don’t forget about the workshop,” he cautioned as he closed the door with a loud thud.

*****

Gwen and I were both reluctantly in attendance at Marc’s Monday evening workshop. We were each given a copy of the script. She and I shared a scene in a play called Laundry and Bourbon. It was written by James McClure and was set in the small Texas town of Maynard.

“Have you ever done any acting?” Marc asked as he handed me a copy of the script.

I shook my head and glanced at Gwen.

“Well, you have five minutes to read it over. We’ll do a cold reading then. Just see what you can do with it,” he said sounding dubious.

I studied the scene while we waited. When Marc called us up in front of the others to read the scene, I laid the script aside and lounged back on the risers at the foot of the stage.

I stretched my legs and crossed my ankles while I propped against the edge of the top step.

Gwen had the opening line and I casually peered at my long nails as I waited for her to begin reading. Before she could deliver the first line in its entirety, Marc suddenly waved his arms and shouted, “Cut! No, no! Cut!”

He paused in front of me with his hands on his hips and he stared down at me. I noted that his gaze flitted to my legs and where the hem of my skirt barely covered my thighs. “What are you doing?” he asked sharply.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You’re supposed to be delivering a cold reading. The operative word in that phrase is reading. Where is your script?”

I shifted my weight and pulled the script from under my right butt cheek. I held it out for him to see. “Here it is. Do you need it for something?” I asked.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re supposed to use the script to reference your lines.”

“But, I don’t need the script. I know the lines.” I stifled a yawn of boredom.

Marc promptly snatched the script from my hand. “We’ll see about that,” he said rolling the script into a tube and slipping it in his back pocket. “Why are you laying all over the stage?” he demanded.

“The script says we’re supposed to be folding laundry. There’s no laundry to fold, so I interpreted the scene a little differently. I figured it would play just as well if we were lounging around drinking without folding laundry.”

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I am a former plus sized model in my mid-40’s that organized and chaired one of the largest charity benefits in our area. The one that would stand out for me was held at a huge lodge with a seven course dinner, a silent auction with all the proceeds going to my favorite charities.

This particular year’s event had a fashion show with 10 gorgeous models with all those proceeds going to a battered women’s shelter in our area. It was black tie and everyone dressed to impress.

The entertainment was usually local, but this time I arranged to secure Constantine, the rising star just coming off a tour. How I did that I am still not sure, but I wasn’t going to complain.

I have had a crush not unlike a teenage girl on this man for a long time, but I am sure that his entire night would be spent with the many fashion models vying for his attention, however, I had him at my table for dinner anyway.

I spent a fortune on my black Armani gown but it was all worth it, I know I looked great and I felt great, since I’d also lost twenty pounds recently, but still had some kicking curves.

I made my way downstairs to the ballroom to wait for Con to arrive. The room was filled to capacity once they found out the evenings entertainment. Finally, he arrived. It was nothing like the minute he walked into that ballroom in a black tux.

Somehow I managed to greet him and introduce him to the few important people there before dinner started. At dinner we chatted and got along Bostancı Escort famously, he was so well spoken for a man barely thirty.

After the silent auction and the fashion show, he sang a number of songs for us and dedicated one especially to me. My heart skipped a few beats as he walked off the stage and held my hand as he sang it.

I barely saw him after the show was over, he very graciously signing autographs and taking pictures for donations to the causes we were supporting. I left him being mobbed by a crowd of beauties all vying for his attention.

I went to my room and was standing on my balcony reminising about the great evening when I heard a knock on the door.

“Room Service.”

Room service, I did’t order room service, I had thought.

I opened the door and to my amazement there stood Constantine with two glasses and a bottle of champagne.

“How about a nightcap?”

Of course, I asked him in.

We poured the champagne and sat on the balcony talking and laughing about the evening when out of the blue he leaned over and kissed me.

“I have been wanting to do that all night. I want to put my arms around you and hold you and never let you go. I want to make love to you all night long.”

I just looked at him and I could tell he saw in my eyes exactly what I was thinking.

“I know what you are thinking. All that eye candy downstairs, what is he doing here with me?”

“You have that exactly,” I Ümraniye Escort whispered.

His ‘fuck me’ eyes were hypnotizing me and I found it hard to get the words out.

“You have made this one of the most enchanting evenings of my life. Not only are you very beautiful, very sexy and exciting, have you ever thought that I might like to be with some just like you and not just some eye candy who are self absorbed in their appearance?”

“But I am old enough to be….” I began.

“Oh baby, you can mother me all night long. Please let me stay, let me make love to you.”

I couldn’t say a word, he held me close to him and touched my face and kissed me, raping my mouth with his tongue. I tangled my hands in his beautiful hair and kissed him back, licking his neck and his ear and playfully biting his lips.

I was dizzy with desire. He gently stroked my shoulders, my back as his lips never left mine. He pulled down the zipper of my dress and let it fall off my shoulders to the floor, realizing I had nothing on under it.

“Oh baby, you are so beautiful.” He led me into the bedroom.

He continued to stare at me with those dark eyes and I felt like I was drowning. I watched as he took off his tux and lay down beside me.

He touched my face, whispered in my ear. His lips left a trail down my neck and onto my breasts. He licked and sucked my nipples until they were hard as rocks and I felt I could cum with the sensations he was creating.

I Anadolu Yakası Escort gently asked him to lay back and let me look at him. I wanted to touch him, touch every inch of his body with my hands, my mouth.

I wanted to show this guy that bigger certainly was better in bed.

I ran my fingers down his back, over his tight ass, up and down his legs, over his testicles and everyplace my hands went my mouth followed.

I licked up his enormous shaft and around the head until he moaned and asked me to please take him into my mouth. I sucked him into my mouth and continued to caress his inner thigh at the same time.

I could feel his muscles tightening as he was reaching his orgasm, I deep throated him as far as I could until he exploded down my throat.

The emotion on his face was priceless. He pulled me to him and lay me down, his mouth still raping mine.

He continued to lick and kiss my nipples, my stomach until I finally asked him to stop teasing me, I couldn’t take it any longer.

He found my clit ready for a tonguing and he sucked and licked it until I came right into his mouth.

Before I could recover, he mounted me and rammed that beautiful cock into me. I couldn’t get enough. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulled him to me by the hair and asked him to give it all to me. We both were covered in sweat by the time he had his second orgasm.

We lay beside each other in the bed and he kept stroking me and looking at me and telling me he wished we could spend more time together.

“You are everything I have ever wanted in a woman.”

Somehow I managed to whispered that he was everything I had ever wanted in a man and more. We fell asleep in each other arms.

_________________

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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What made having her an absolute necessity to him was the unselfconsciousness with which this woman of advanced age was dressed as a seventeen year old slut intent on sin. It was the utter incongruence of her that made her irresistible.

He had seen her at a table in the corner as he walked through the door of the café. There was no need for him to look around to see if there were any other women around; younger, more obviously attractive or conventionally desirable. It did not matter. It was impossible that he might prefer any of them, so he went and sat at a table quite close to her, though not right next to her. He did not want to be too obvious, even in approaching a woman as obvious as her; nor did he want to her to see how obvious it was that he wanted her and how much he assumed that he was obviously going to have her.

She had been there for fifteen minutes or so before he had arrived and she had eyed all of the men older than sixteen and younger than forty and seen that none of them were adventurers and her eye had fixed on the door in the hope that an adventurer might come. When he arrived she saw him, knew instinctively that what she had been hoping for had arrived and looked away as though she had not noticed him. But he had seen her notice him and she had seen him notice her. He sat down and the game of surreptitious, yet indiscreet looking and looking away began between them.

He was a man of thirty one and an erotic adventurer. He was notably good looking and slim and tall with dark brown hair, dark brown eyes a fine jaw line and good taste in clothes. He pursued the unlikely, the bizarre and the grotesque. He did not seek some ideal woman, or pursue the essence of femininity through a string of beautiful women through whom he might reach some imaginary ideal. He wanted to have every different kind of woman there was and he wanted them for what they were and not what they could represent to him.

She was a woman of sixty-two, but her manner of dress made her appear younger, though not as young as seventeen. A generous observer would have said fifty or so. She was heavy, though not fat and her long peroxide blonde hair was pulled up and tied tight on the top of her head, with a pony tail hanging down the back to her neck and beyond. Her make up was garish and thickly applied. Her lips were painted with the brightest red lipstick and she wore a deep powder blue eye shadow that you could have left fingerprints in. Her eyes were brown and the tones of her skin coffee dark. She was wearing a very tight leopard skin print top that clung to every roll of her torso. The neckline ventured as far south as it could without allowing her very generous boobs to tumble out, though tumbling was only a possibility because they were being pushed up by a bra, their natural bias being to hang.

The bra, as he was later to discover, was red with a decorative lacy pattern around its edges, and entirely see-through, and its outline pressed now against the material of her leopard skin print top. Below she had favoured the tightest of jeans, which clung to her very ample behind and, were she to open her legs a little, would display a very well defined cameltoe, and from the back of which rose the string thin strap of a red thong, the waistband of which had got itself nestled between two of those sumptuous rolls. On her feet were black patent leather four inch heeled stilettos, out of the end of which poked toes whose nails were painted crimson, as were her long fingernails. The excessive quantity of jewellery: a great many bracelets on both wrists, rings on every finger and both thumbs, long dangling earrings that clinked when she moved her head, and an anklet; all over her silver and gold side by side, and they were of expensive type.

She smoked a long, thin cigarette held in a long, thin black and gold cigarette holder. She was drinking a coffee and Maltepe Escort had a glass of liqueur on the side. The semi-circles of lipstick on the rim of each grew larger with every sip she took.

This was how she always dressed. She had long abandoned the fight that we all fight in the battle against nature, which we cannot win, and accepted defeat and continued to live and dress as though she had won. She gloried in the grotesque spectacle that she was and she knew that every now and then she would meet a young man who had a taste for the grotesque and very mature. She had accepted her body’s journey toward decay and had learned that there were young men who liked such bodies and she sought chance meetings with them and sometimes found them. She went out always with hope, but not with expectation, and she was never disappointed when she did not get lucky and she was always very pleased when she did. She had accepted life.

He looked over at her and as he did, she stopped looking at him and turned her head away and pretended to be looking out of the window. A few seconds later she looked back and he looked away. Then a minute or so was allowed to pass and she looked at him again and feeling her eyes eating him, he looked back and this time she did not look away immediately, but allowed her eyes to continue their meal for a second or two before turning aside. He crossed his legs to hide the bulge that his erect cock had pushed up in the crotch of his trousers.

They were locked onto each other, but he would have to approach her soon, before the game became a parody of itself and the moment lost. Timing was of the greatest importance and the time it would take for his erection to go down would be enough time to wait before getting up and going to her table.

That brief time passed and he rose and walked to her table. She knew that he was going to come. His pretext was to ask her for a light. It was vaguely plausible that he did not have a lighter or matches with him, but transparent in that there were other people sitting at tables closer to him who were smoking. In the circumstances it was perfect.

He arrived at her table and asked her for a light. She looked at him feigning disinterest and said yes and picked up the overly ornate gold lighter that was placed on top of a black leather cigarette box cover and handed it to him. The cover had a heart shaped in little gold sequins on it. The sequins were made of real gold.

He light his cigarette and as he handed the lighter back to her asked

‘May I sit here?’

She nodded assent.

He sat down opposite her and before he could speak she saved him from a line, as none could have caught the moment, by saying ‘are you trying to pick me up young man?’

‘That depends on whether you want to be picked up.’ He replied.

‘I do’ she said.

‘Then I am.’

‘Good. Let’s go.’

She called to the waiter and settled her bill. She refused his offer to pay and paid his too.

Their departure together did not go unnoticed and was sniggered over by some other customers. They did not care, because they understood and the sniggerers did not.

‘My car is parked around the corner’ she said, as they emerged onto the street.

They got into her car. It was a year old top of the range black convertible BMW. As she slid the key into the ignition he asked her

‘Where are we going?’

‘My house.’

Neither of them spoke during the fifteen minute drive. They arrived at a large villa and pulled into the driveway.

‘My husband is away and my children are married with children and homes of their own’ she said as she stopped the car.

Once inside the house, the interior of which was expensively and gaudily decorated, they sat in leopard skin covered armchairs.

‘I won’t offer you a drink. We will not waste time on preliminaries.’

He Ümraniye Escort just sat and lusted for her.

‘How old are you?’

‘Thirty-one.’

‘How old do you think I am?’

‘Fifty or so.’

‘Thank you for not being ridiculous by saying late thirties and thank you for pretending that you believe that I am at least ten years younger than you must know I am. I am sixty two.’

‘You are very direct.’

‘I am.’

He sat silently and waited.

‘I know myself and I know others. It is a gift of mine. I like younger men. But not so many younger men like a woman of my age. When one who does enters a café I am sitting in, I know him immediately. I let him see that I am available and if he makes a move I let him pick me up.

‘You are here’ she said ‘because you are an adventurer. You are not desperate for a fuck. You are a very good looking young man and you know that you could have a great many of the young women around you, and I am sure that you do. But when you entered that café I knew that I had a chance of having today what I always look for.

She paused for a moment to light a cigarette. While she had been talking her nipples had stiffened and their outline was visible through her clothes. She was also now sitting with one leg slung over the other at a right angle to it, and two parallel little rolls protruded voluptuously and a line was drawn straight and clear, where her jeans covered her pussy. His eyes shifted alternately between the unsubtle hints of her pussy and her nipples. His cock was fully erect and he did nothing to hide it. He sat waiting for her to continue.

‘You are here’ she said ‘because you want to find out what it is like to fuck a sixty-two year old woman who dresses like a teenage whore. So let’s do it. Come here and fuck me.’

He stood and walked over to her and as he was about to lean forward to kiss her, he heard her say ‘I love big cocks’ and felt her fingers squeezing the bulge in his crotch. There was a slight tug and the light buzz of his zip descending and finally he felt the wet warmth of her mouth as she began sucking his knob.

He expected her to stop after a couple of minutes and undress him and undress herself, but she continued to suck his cock and began to make greedy and contented sighing sounds and gobble him off more and more fiercely. As he felt his orgasm coming he began to buck towards her and his hand grabbed the back of her head, but there was no need. This cock greedy old slut was not going to do anything other than suck all of the spunk out of his cock and drink it.

He looked down at her bobbing head and saw the grey roots of her peroxide hair. The sight finished him and his spunk spurted into her mouth. She knew exactly when it was coming and stopped sucking and held his cockhead mid way between the back of her teeth and the back of her throat, sucked in her cheeks and took the blast without bracing for it, and felt with delight the cum jets hit her throat. She gulped them down.

She held his cock in her mouth as it grew flaccid and finally shrank and slithered out between her lips.

‘Go and sit down’ she said.

He obeyed. He sat back in the chair. She came over to him and kissed him on the lips and took his shirt and pulled it over his head. Then she undid his trousers and took them off. He was naked and his slimy cock rested over his thigh and she leant down and gave it a lingering kiss.

‘I’m going to strip for you’ she told him.

Clothed, she was one thing. Naked she was going to be something else. He was not going to get fresh seventeen. He was not going to get ripe fifty-two. He was going to get worn and sagging sixty-two. Every second of it.

Standing before him, she pulled her top over her head and peeled off her jeans. The rolls of her torso descended and the flesh around her bra and İstanbul Escort thong bulged. She stood for a moment to be admired and then leaned towards him and told him to undo her bra. Her heavy tits poised above his face and straining, he reached around her and unclipped her bra. Her tits fell into his face, and rested on his cheeks. She let them sit there for a long moment and then moved a little back, offering her large nipples for him to suck.

As he sucked her nipples and felt them like little thumbs in his mouth his hand reached between her legs and he pushed three fingers past the thin red string into her wet, waiting cunt. She sighed as her cunt stretched open as the three fingers penetrated it and then shrank a little around them. He pushed them in and out of her vigorously. She ground her mons veneris against his wrist and with a series of gasps came into his hand, coating it with a layer of gleaming cunt slime.

She moved away and returned to her chair and sat back in it with each of her legs over its arms, her arse parked at the chair’s edge, her great tits hanging over her stomach, the rolls of which swelled outwards and downwards. Her worn and tarnished bronze skin shone in the sunlight that streamed through the window, and the thin red string of her thong embedded itself between the wet lips of her shaved and glistening 1945 vintage cunt.

He went to her and knelt between her open legs and began to lick and suck her delicious and nearly antique twat. He had been expecting that fucking her was going to be an extravaganza of KY and resemble a medical examination, but her cunt oozed its own natural juices in copious quantities in anticipation at the sucking and fucking it was about to receive (and for which it would be truly thankful).

He brought her to orgasm again with his mouth and then stood up and said

‘I’m going to rub my cock over every inch of you.’

In a swoon ‘do it, polish me,’ she said.

He began by brushing it over her left tit, concentrating on rubbing his helmet around and over her nipple. Then he lifted her arm and threw it over the top of the chair and began to rub it in her armpit. She opened her eyes and looked at him and said

‘I thought I had done everything. You kinky bastard.’

She brought her arm down so that his cock was clamped in her sweaty pit and said ‘go on baby, fuck mamma’s armpit.’

Her other hand slipped down over her stomach and shamelessly wanked her pussy.

He pulled his cock out from between her hanging tit and her tensed arm and went around to her other side and rubbed his cock over her other tit and fucked her other armpit. Then he set about rubbing his cock all over her, until he reached her cunt. But he was not going to fuck her just yet.

He admired her gaping cunt and decided that it could take it. This was something that he had never done before. It was as if she had read his thought.

‘Do it’ she said ‘fist fuck me.’

One, two, three, four fingers, and then his thumb slid in, and then he pushed his whole hand up her. He watched her face as she winced and then relaxed into joy. She was stretched open as wide as she would go and he wished that her cunt would suck all of him into her. But now, knowing how truly to reach into the depths of her, it was time to fuck her, so he pulled out his fist and watched as her cunt slowly retracted to its natural size and positioned himself, gripped his cock and guided it into her without need to open her twat with the fingers of his other hand.

His cock was indeed big, as she had said when she had seen the bulge in his trousers coming towards her, and he slid it all the way up her. Her cunt took easily and without resistance the whole eight inches of it. He was in her up to her cervix and she gasped and groaned and sighed with pleasure and contentment as he went at her fiercely for a full twenty minutes without pause and she came four times and then a fifth when he pulled his cock out of her and shot his spunk over her heaving over ripe tits and her wrinkly and make up smeared face.

She was fresh and seventeen in this moment of her ecstasy.

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