Posts Tagged ‘younger man’

Maria woke early the next morning, she looked over to Harry still asleep, quiet and still. ‘It’s a long time since I woke up with a man in my bed,’ she thought with a smile; spontaneously she leant over and kissed him very gently, Harry did not stir and Maria thought again, “Look at him he’s so peaceful, no one would ever guess what he is like in bed.”



She got up showered in the second bathroom to avoid disturbing Harry and made herself a coffee. On returning, Harry was still fast asleep, so she took her coffee onto the small balcony which led from her bedroom. Maria sat down; her view looked out over her property towards the river and the centre of Hawksworth beyond. She felt totally relaxed in the relative cool of the early morning, and as she sipped her coffee, she fell back into her earlier daydreams.



What had he called her? “Priceless,” it was silly, she smiled to herself, but at the time it was perfect, and then Harry had made love to her; they had kissed, they had rolled around on the blanket next to the pool, then he had sucked her nipples. Rock hard nipples Maria remembered, touching herself for a moment as a reminder, she smiled, and then he had moved down inexorably, to eat her out again. In the cool of the morning it seemed in one sense like a blur to Maria, but the pleasure, the tormenting pleasure of his probing searching tongue went on and on looping through her mind, again and again to a relived climax.



What Harry had wanted had been a little unexpected: Maria bit her lip pensively as she remembered, Harry had turned her over onto her hands and knees and fucked her, it was no longer lovemaking, he had taken her, ‘he fucked me,’ reflected Maria. To call it rough sex was not enough, the sheer energy, the urgency with which he plunged into her without regard for anything electrified her, she gloried in it, and when his climax came he fell on her back biting hard into her shoulder as his semen flooded her womb. Maria remembered no pain or hurt only a surge of complete joy, a joy of giving herself completely.



“Day dreaming?” Harry had woken up and padded quietly over.



“Mmmm, you could call it that” she replied as he kissed the top of her head. Then Maria woke up properly, “You had better hop in the shower and get dressed if you are working today, time’s marching on, it must be almost eight already.”



“Yes you’re right, I had better get moving.”



“Be downstairs in ten minutes for some breakfast.”



Harry met the deadline with a minute to spare. “Porridge with fruit on the side and a huge mug of tea, what’s this about Maria, porridge oats in the morning and pasta in the evening, are you trying to build me up?”



“No,” she laughed “it’s carbohydrates for energy, oats, slow release in the morning, wheat pasta for quick energy in the evening, I’m optimising your performance, and looking after my own best interests at the same time.”



“I’m partial to my favourite sweetmeat myself” responded Harry, putting an arm around her playfully.



“Don’t I know it,” retorted Maria brushing him off, “And if last nights last performance is a guide, you prefer your sweetmeat to be steaming in a sticky marinade.”



“Maybe,” grinned Harry pausing between mouthfuls, “I was a bit carried away, I put it down to the pheromones, your body heat and yes, maybe it was the marinade, as you so decorously put it.”



“I’m not complaining, I’m just wondering what you’re going to come up with to top it.”



“Ah ha,” said Harry “Well I do have designs on…hello who’s this?”



A small truck had turned into the driveway, and as it straightened to proceed down the track to the old house, the sign on its side was clear, “Salt’s Engineering:” the Bruton brothers had bought the firm but retained the old name.



“That’ll be old George with one of Cory’s men bringing back the new tyres for the tractor, I’ll have to rush, I want them to give me a hand with those trunks.”



Harry grabbed a banana and made hastily for the door. “Hey wait a moment,” cried Maria “designs on what exactly?”



Harry hesitated for no more than a second and answered with a huge grin “But your ass of course…your wonderful magnificent ass.” And then he was gone.



Maria was left talking to herself for a moment. “Surely not, he can’t mean, no of course not, he couldn’t possibly…could he?”



Harry arrived just as George and his workmate had started to unload the first of the wheels. “Ah good,” George greeted him “we’ve got the hoist on the truck but an extra pair of hands would be handy manoeuvring these big wheels, especially,” he added “seeing as the only help I’ve got is this useless article.” The useless article old George referred to was a large affable young man about Harry’s age, he grinned “G’day I’m Pete, don’t mind George, the truth is the poor old sod’s a bit past it, so we could do with a bit of help.”



Old George and Pete continued to bicker and abuse each other, in a way that only the very best of mates can, while Harry observed that both of them were in fact, very competent and sure in their work. In what seemed to Harry a surprisingly short time they had the massive wheels unloaded and re-fitted.



“Now I s’pose,” observed old George accurately, “You’ve got something you want us to do for you.”



“Right,” confirmed Harry “I want Pete to give me a hand to carry a couple of steel trunks and a chest down from upstairs. The trunks in particular are too awkward and heavy for one person. If Pete could give me a hand to load them onto my ute I can then take them up to Maria’s house for her.”



“We can do better than that,” suggested Pete, “We’ll use our truck because we’ve got the hoist and it’ll be much easier to load and unload.”



The two young men made their way upstairs to the tune of George telling them to get on with it because he didn’t have all day.



“What’s the camera for?”



“Oh my aunt is interested in the history of this place and asked me to photograph everything before it was moved. I was going to get Maria to take them, but perhaps you could help. Harry quickly took a dozen pictures and asked Pete to take a few more with him in them as his aunt Diane had requested. They soon had more than enough



“What’s this?” asked Pete, noticing the chest in the back corner



“Only an old chest of drawers.”



“No… I don’t think so, look at these brass handles, two on each side, one above the other, and also the fancy brass work on the corners. The top half probably lifts off.”



“What is it then?”



“I’m not absolutely certain,” replied Pete, “But it might be a campaign chest.”



Harry was none the wiser for being told that, and was conscious of keeping old George waiting; “Come on, we had better get it all shifted.”



Harry and Pete soon had both trunks, and the chest on the truck and as Pete had guessed the chest separated into two equal parts quite readily. “Just as well” Harry exclaimed “it must be stacked full it weighs so much.”



“Pete you take the truck up to Mrs Bunce’s house,” instructed George, “Harry and I’ll follow you.”



“Now young Harry, I wondered why you took the tin work off the tractor when you cleaned up, was there a possum, or something like that nesting under it.



“Yes there had been, though what it was I don’t know, but it was a real mess.”



“Well thanks; it saved me a bit of time you thinkin’ of that.”



Conscious that any thanks from old George was hard earned, Harry changed the subject, “you were giving Pete a hard time back there, he’s not that bad surely?”



“Course he ain’t,” George cackled, “Young bugger’s the best bloody apprentice I’ve trained for years, but apprentices are all the same; cuss ‘em and kick em up the ass, whether they need it or not, that’s my method, keeps their mind on the job, otherwise all they think about is football and girls.”



“Well, I’m glad I’m not your apprentice.”



“Mighta done you good,” grinned the old man toothlessly, I’ve turned some unpromising lummoxes into pretty fair mechanics, so maybe there might be hope for you yet.”



They lurched to a halt, and George got out of the ute well pleased with himself for coming out ahead in the exchange.



Maria came out to greet them and directed Harry and Pete to her study where the trunks were to be stowed. That was soon done. “I think I’ll leave the chest out here in the conservatory then I can wash it down and decide what to do with it.”



“Oh no,” exclaimed Pete, “You mustn’t do that,” but then he turned bright red embarrassed at his outburst.



“Who are you to be telling Mrs Bunce what to do, you cheeky varmint,” protested old George.



Harry interrupted, “Hang on a moment, Pete was telling me something about this chest, and he probably has a good reason for what he was saying.”



“Well yes,” replied Pete collecting himself, “First Mrs Bunce, the chest appears to be full of something and it’s very heavy so it’s probably papers, second the timber has been in the dark for ninety odd years and though it’s not cracked it must be very dry, so if you washed it, some of the water is bound to get through to the contents and they would be damaged, and if the chest was left in the sun in a hot conservatory it would crack up in no time.”



“You have a good point about the possibility of damaging the papers,” agreed Maria, “But I’m not bothered about the chest of drawers itself, so it can just go in the conservatory.”



“But I think perhaps you should be bothered Mrs Bunce,” persisted Pete, “Because it’s not a chest of drawers, it’s a campaign chest, at least I think it is.”



“What’s a campaign chest, and why should this be one?”



“Well Mrs Bunce, campaign chests were very popular for officers in the British Army, in fact most armies a hundred and fifty years ago. They served as a piece of furniture that the officers could also use as trunks when they travelled, overseas or on campaign, that’s why they’ve got the handles on the side. If you look closely, the top two levels of drawers are split into three but the middle one is probably a false drawer, and when you unlock it my guess is that will fold out as a small writing desk. If it’s what I think, it will be worth restoring.”



“I’m impressed Pete, where did you learn all this.”



“My girlfriend Tracey, her uncle restores old furniture for a hobby, he even makes it from scratch, his house is full of it.



Old George interrupted, “So you’re goin’ out with Billy Thompson’s niece, and I thought young Tracey had a bit of sense, but you’re right about Billy, he’s a pretty good builder but he’s a much better joiner, does some really top class work.”



“Coming from you George, that’s a really big wrap,” observed Harry.



“Well I ain’t one to praise too much, but Billy’s a top tradesman, we had an expert up here from Sydney a few years back, and he swore some chairs Billy had made were genuine antiques. He was a bit flummoxed when Billy told ‘im they was only six months old, but then he said, ‘damnit if they fooled me they’ll fool anyone else,’ and he offered to buy anything Billy could make. Billy wouldn’t be in it though, said he didn’t want to make a business out of it.”



Once started, Maria knew that old George would take some stopping, so she brought the discussion to a halt, “That settles it then, Harry and Pete can you put it into the study with the other things and Pete” she added, “Thank you for you advice, and you too George; I will ask Mr Thompson what I should do with it.”



Their task was soon completed, Pete and old George left and as both Harry and Maria observed they were arguing again before the truck even turned onto the road. “Do you reckon those two ever stop squabbling,” grinned Harry.



“Not a chance,” laughed Maria, “If they did they would have to admit how much they liked each other, so it won’t happen. Now I suppose, you will be getting off to work too.”



“Yes I have a few things to do, but I’ll be back this afternoon, will I see you here then?”



“Only if you are a bit later than usual, I won’t be back until about seven thirty.”



“Ok I’ll see you then.”



As things turned out although Harry only had a couple of jobs planned, the phone started ringing almost as soon as he had left Maria’s, he was flat out all day and by mid afternoon had decided to give the old house a miss for the day. He finished his last job at seven in the evening just giving him time for a shower and a burger before arriving at Maria’s just before eight. Maria had arrived only seconds before and was removing what appeared to be the spoils of a major shopping expedition from her car.



“Can I give you a hand with that?”



“Thanks.”



“It looks as though you have bought up the entire shop.”



“No I haven’t” retorted Maria, “it’s nearly all clothes, I have to get a lot made to measure, mainly because of my height. I go to a little Italian tailor who makes suits for men; I suspect I’m his only female client.”



“That’d be Mr Iemma, but you’re not his only female client, his daughter has an internet based business selling wedding dresses and special event dresses for formals, proms and such like. She obtains the orders and deals with the business side, whilst he and a group of ladies actually make the clothes.”



“Is that right, he’s such a sweetie, a real gentleman but very shy, he always makes sure his daughter is there when I go for an appointment, she does most of the fitting and takes measurements and afterwards he likes to talk about what he is going to do and we sit down and have coffee with lovely Italian cakes that his wife makes. It’s all very civilized.”



“Crikey, I never got that treatment when he made me a suit.”



“Of course not, Mr Iemma may be shy but he’s a gentleman and an Italian, so he knows how to treat a lady… and,” added Maria, “He’s a superb tailor and dressmaker.”



“Well, I know I’m not a tailor or dressmaker and certainly not Italian but hopefully” he suggested, putting an arm around Maria, “Maybe I can be a gentleman.”



“Mmmm,’ not to sure about that,” replied Maria responding quickly “Think of yourself as a work in progress, I would have thought a real gentleman lover would have had me half undressed and on the way to bed by now.”



A little more than forty minutes later Maria was becoming rapidly convinced of Harry’s progress, as she bucked furiously out of control, in the throes of her second orgasm. “Oh God don’t ever let it stop” she cried as Harry burst inside her, a river of cum flooding, penetrating deep into her womb. She was silent for a few seconds just twitching and heaving slightly, involuntarily, as she came down.



“Oh my God,” she repeated, “Now I feel all warm and mushy, it’s like I’m in a dream and I don’t want to wake up.” Harry knew from experience that he wasn’t expected to say anything, he had got used to Maria taking a long time to come down from her climax. He knew instinctively that she just wanted him to hold her close, while she chattered about how she felt. “That was so good, just so good, now just hold me,” she said as though reading his thoughts. He did so and she mumbled an incoherent contentment, “Your cock in me, I so love it, and when you come, mmmm” she trailed off, “It’s so lovely.”



Then after some time Maria quite suddenly spoke up, she giggled, “You have got yourself a couple of new champions, at least one of them is new anyway.”



“What do you mean?”



“Well today before my visit to Mr Iemma I had a lunch date, half a dozen of us, women of a certain age I suppose, we try to get together every couple of months or so. Me, Susan Tremaine, Carol Johnson and her partner Lois, Frances Gear, the doctor and Bella Mason the High School Principal. Trixie the rector’s wife was invited but couldn’t come.



“Anyway Bella was telling us all, that she was taking you on a trip up to Armidale for a conference. She got Carol’s back up a bit, I think it was because Bella was talking about you as a representative of her school, in a way that implied credit to Bella rather than the people who actually taught you — like Carol of course.”



“Oh, Mrs Mason’s just an ambitious woman, there’s no harm in that.”



“Maybe not, but Carol was pretty quick to tell her that you weren’t someone who could be led by the nose.”



Harry laughed, but then Maria added, “Susan then jumped in and told Bella, that someone she knew very well had told her that you had a knack for working out exactly what a woman wanted and taking your own initiative. I suppose she was referring to Alice because I hadn’t told her anything like that.



“Now what are you laughing about,” said Maria turning over to face him, “It isn’t that funny.”



“No it isn’t,” replied Harry, “Except for the fact, that it’s the second time someone has alerted me to Mrs Mason.



“What do you mean?”



Harry told her what his aunt had said ,of which Maria promptly concluded, “So Carol and Susan were right, she is manipulating you.”



“No she’s not, organising me a bit perhaps, but that’s all, and you can hardly blame her for wanting to promote her own school.”



“I suppose not,” smiled Maria sweetly, “In any case with Carol, Susan and your aunt looking out for you you’ll be alright.”



“I don’t need anyone to look out for me, though Carol doesn’t surprise me, she’s pretty assertive herself, Susan, Mrs Tremaine though, it surprised me that she got involved.”



“Susan does surprise people, most of them just see a stunningly beautiful woman who is just too nice to be true, but she is also very smart and determined, neither of which are quite so obvious. She’s sometimes slow to make her mind up but once Susan has decided on something it’s very hard to stop her. Anyway, I guess that all we are saying is, do not let Bella manipulate you.”



“Oh I shan’t, there’s only one woman who is allowed to do that and she has been very neglectful of her duties these past few minutes.”



“Is that so, in that case I had better take you in hand.” Harry felt her long fingers wind themselves around his cock. “Mmmm you’re paying attention now; in fact you’re like a sentry standing to attention, stiff straight and ready for action.”



And action commenced.



The next few days were uneventful, Harry continued to be fully occupied, working all day and making love with Maria in the evening. Harry’s aunt emailed to say her research had gone particularly well and she was going to extend her stay in Sydney for a couple more days. Towards the end of the week Harry’s phone rang; “G’day mate ‘ow er yer goin,” it was the unmistakeable voice of Billy Thompson.



“Hi, what can I do for you?”



“Well Harry,” Billy explained, I checked this morning’ how many bricks you had ready and I was hopin’ you could get out another three full pallets by Friday arvo. Reason is,” he continued “Is that I’ve got two extra brickies who have agreed to work right through the weekend, it’ll let us catch up after that bad weather we had a couple of weeks back. That should be enough for ‘em to finish the job.”



Harry thought for a second or two “Yes I reckon I can do that, I’ll just put in a long session on Thursday.”



“Good lad, oh and by the way, Mrs Bunce dropped by my place. We had a yarn about renovating the old house, I’m gunna give her a quote, hope she goes ahead, because it would be a real interestin’ job.”



“Ok then Billy, if you don’t hear from me, you can assume the bricks will be ready for you.”



Thursday, however, dawned cloudy and threatening and it looked ever more ominous as time went on, the forecast said heavy rain, and thunderstorms for the afternoon and evening. It was hot and seemed even hotter when black clouds started to move in bringing oppressive humidity with them.



“Looks as though I am going to get wet,” said Harry to himself “But can’t be helped, I promised Billy I would get the job done.” Harry threw several towels and another change of clothing into his ute as he set out. When he got to Maria’s he decided not to take his ute down to the old House. ‘Might be difficult to get back up the steep slope if it rains hard’.

Michael was the type of guy you could see at any college, in any class, no matter where you were in the country. Average height, toned, and the type of guy who could go out to a bar and get laid whenever he felt up to the task. However, Michael never enjoyed the typical activities that most of his friends did when it came to girls their age. He was the type of college guy who fantasized about older women. While that isn’t completely out of the ordinary, Michael’s goal before he left college was to have sex with a woman at least ten years older than him, giving himself bonus points if it was a professor.



What set Michael apart from his friends that had similar fantasies was that he actually went out and pursued them by doing some harmless shadowing of the places that the professors and assistants would go out to enjoy drinks together, learning that many of them were just like his friends and him, except older. He certainly found some of his female professors to be attractive, but none of them could hold a candle to the one woman he found to be the most attractive of them all.



His aunt, Christie.



Christie Turner was his aunt, though the world only called her by her first name. A few years prior to him going to college, his aunt was discovered by a talent agency based out of London, England, and suggested that she meet with them for the possibility of doing a photo shoot. At the time, Christie was already 27 years old, the younger sister of Michael’s mother. However, she was a knockout, and she knew it. Michael’s mother had always been jealous of Christie, knowing that she had gotten the bigger end of the stick when it came to looks, though Christie worked hard on it. She was a true platinum blonde as well, which was a part of the allure for the talent agency to recruit her. Before she knew it, she was being flown across the ocean to meet up with the agents that knew she would be a star. What they didn’t expect, however, was just how quickly she would rise to fame…and how popular she would become.



Michael’s aunt was now 33 years old, and she was just as incredible of a knockout as she was when she first started. She held off for a few years before showing off the goods in an exclusive spread for the UK’s top adult magazine, though she limited it to just a topless spread. Since then, she would climb to the top of web searches around the world. Everyone wanted to find pictures, search for gossip on her, and go to her exclusive site where she would chat with anyone and give little shows here and there. The offers never stop coming in for her to do a hardcore shoot, though while never fully shooting the idea down, it never interested her to begin with. She enjoyed her private life far too much, though she had never settled down due to her desire to want just a normal man and not a celebrity, usually leading her to many lonely nights in her penthouse suite.



Christie, however, also had a bit of a problem in the fact that she never kept up with family, though her only direct relative alive was Michael’s mother, and they never talked. Christie had been driven away from her due to jealousy, which meant that Michael never got to see Christie at all, though she would write letters to him when she was doing photo shoots. She didn’t really miss her sister, as she would discover in the passing months. It was the fact that she never got to see her nephew growing up through his teenage years. She knew full well that he always liked her when he was younger, so she made it a point to clear her schedule around Christmas time and sent him a first class ticket to come and visit her.



Michael’s reaction was nothing short of pure joy when he received that envelope and letter containing the ticket from his famous aunt. He had managed to hide it from his friends that he was related to her, knowing it would be strange since two of his roommates had full sized posters of her on their walls. He had made no plans to go back home to see his mother at all, considering that she had cut him off from all support since he had changed his major from Business Management to his original choice, Photography. She never agreed with his passion for such a thing, which stemmed from her jealousy of Christie. Michael, while he was hurting for money, had never once considered asking his Aunt for money. With the receiving of the ticket, he was just happy that he was going to get to see his Aunt for the first time since he was 14. Back then, he was a scrawny kid who hated his existence. Now, at the age of 20, he was a well toned, muscular, handsome young man.



The plane landed at New York’s JFK International Airport just before midnight local time. Michael was sleep deprived, having had to deal with an unexpected layover in Dallas on his way out to see Christie. Going to school in a smaller city meant having to take a regional jet to a larger airport before getting on the direct flight that he needed. Even with the layover, the flight was enjoyable being in first class. It was the first time he had ever enjoyed the front section of the plane, having a couple of drinks and enjoying what was probably the best airplane food he had ever eaten. Eventually, he found himself at the baggage claim, trying to find the ragged tote bag that he used for his clothes. Being a poor college kid was horrible, he always thought to himself. He wanted the finer things in life. He wanted to know what it was like to drive sportscars, have the nicest clothes in the room, and have access to the finest things he could enjoy. At least with this trip, he was getting a little taste of it. Christie had told him that a limo would be waiting for him in her last email to him, and she didn’t disappoint him. A full stretch limo was outside with the name “Michael – from Christie” on a sign being held by an older gentleman. All it took was a mention of his name and his bag was in the trunk. The inside of the limo was incredible, though he would not have much of a chance to enjoy it as the ride from the airport to her penthouse was just ten minutes away, even with the late night traffic in the city that never sleeps. Once he was out of the limo, he looked up at the towering building that he stood under. The driver told him that his aunt lived on the very top floor and that she was expecting him.



“I had better not disappoint her by keeping her any longer. Thank you for the ride from the airport, sir.” Michael spoke with a tone that most people in New York probably had long forgotten, the driver thought to himself as he pulled away.



Michael walked inside the entrance to the front desk. He found it a bit strange that he needed to show identification just to get access to a room in the luxury building, but the main reason was that he needed a keycard for the specific elevator he had to use. Christie’s penthouse was so exclusive that her elevator was her front door, one of which went straight to the top and opened up directly into her gigantic penthouse. With his bag in one hand and the keycard in the other, he walked down the private hallway to the elevator that had the sign above it labeled “Invited guests or staff only”, swiping the card and watching the doors fly open quickly. The ride up the forty floors wasn’t a very long one, although his mind was not sure as to how he would react upon seeing his now famous aunt, the same aunt whom he secretly masturbated to with her first topless photo shoot.



“Michael!”



The sound of the voice was surprisingly familiar the moment he had stepped out of the elevator into the ridiculously furnished and decorated penthouse. His aunt came running across from the far windows, practically tackling him with a hug. Michael’s perverted mind was watching her run, but mainly watching her large breasts bounce in her choice of attire, which was very casual, to say the least. Christie hadn’t expected him so late and had gone for a run on her treadmill while waiting for him. She was wearing a dark green sports bra and black spandex shorts that hugged her ass tightly. Christie was a few inches shorter than Michael, still sporting the short, platinum blonde haircut that had made her famous, not dropping far below her jawline. Her toned body had a very light tan to it, just enough to give a sensual complexion. Her 36DD breasts, the assets that truly got her famous, were being held back by that sports bra, though it seemed to be struggling. She pulled away from him to check out her nephew, who had grown into a very handsome and attractive young man.



“My god, Michael. You’ve grown up so much! I had never expected to see you like this after the last time I saw you in person. You were so…scrawny!”



Michael laughed as he put his bag down, trying desperately not to look at his aunt’s gorgeous body and act as though he was interested in anything else. Of course, having the penthouse to admire certainly took his mind off of his aunt’s body, though he was also being pulled back to her since she was giving him so much praise.



“Thanks, Aunt Christie…yeah, I kind of sprouted when I hit Junior year in high school. You really haven’t changed much, though, from what I remember.”



He was lying through his teeth on that comment, knowing full well that she had only gotten sexier with age. Her body was that of a goddess, thinking back to the several private sessions he had in her chat room, asking her to do various things to help him get off. She had no clue it was him, as it was his dirty little secret.



“Aww you’re so sweet, Michael! Here, let’s get your things into one of the guest rooms!”



Before he could even object, his aunt was carrying his bag down the long hallway, taking a left turn down another hall. How big could the place be? His own thoughts were swirling in his mind as he followed her, his eyes virtually being drawn like a magnet to her shapely ass, which was bouncing as she walked fast down the hallway, taking a turn into one of the spacious guest rooms. The room was incredible, with a gigantic king sized bed, enough closet space that a small person could live in the walk-in alone, and a private bathroom that was calling his name for a shower.



“Wow…Aunt Christie, I knew you had money….but I never thought it would come close to this.”



Christie laughed and gave a playful slap on her nephew’s ass, actually finding herself pausing just a bit, realizing that he was quite toned in that spot, now curious as to what the rest of him was like. Christie, amazingly enough, had been going through a dry spell of viable sexual partners. It was tough for her to go out into public without being mobbed by fans. The problem, though, was that her fanbase was filled mainly with guys that she would never consider sleeping with. She always praised and adored her fans for being so loyal to her, but when it came to sex, there had to be attraction. Suddenly, the nephew she hadn’t seen in over six years was looking pretty good, though she tried to erase the thought from her head as soon as it entered it.



“Well, Michael, when you do the work that I do for a living, people tend to pay big money to see the goods, especially when you’re as popular as I am online. You know this, right?”



Michael nodded, looking into the bathroom before glancing back at her.



“Yeah, I know how famous you are. Two of my roommates each have a poster of you that is over six feet tall. One of your ‘special’ photo shoots for your life sized posters.”



Christie knew she was popular amongst the college guys, considering that most of her clientele on her website were guys aged 20-25. However, not a single one of them who sent in pictures were even moderately attractive, so it was good to hear that his friends at least adored her.



“And what about you? Anything like that of your dear aunt, Michael?”



She was obviously teasing him, giving a playful poke at his side before slowly turning around to head out of the guest room. Michael would follow close behind her.



“I was thinking about grabbing a shower since I’ve flown halfway across the country and probably need to freshen up.”



Christie nodded to her nephew, glancing back at him.



“Don’t keep me waiting too long, nephew. We have some catching up to do!”



Her words rolled off of her tongue so seductively, even if she wasn’t trying. He figured it would be best to get the shower out of the way, preferably a cold shower to get these thoughts out of his head, though he was starting to believe that was impossible after seeing her in that attire.



His shower was relatively quick, making sure to hit all of the major areas on his body, scrubbing himself to rid his body of the odors and filth of airports. He kept himself in great shape, his six pack abs weren’t ridiculously ripped but enough to know that he kept a strong workout ethic. Of course, most girls were interested in what was underneath his clothing besides his shirt, though only a few had ever seen his member, let alone enjoyed it further than that. He was quite hung, though in high school, the three girls that he had hooked up with before graduating would not do anything more than just handjobs and missionary positions. One attempted a blow job with him, but couldn’t handle more than half of it before gagging. Now a college guy, he had found girls were more experienced, but still lacking in certain areas of expertise when it came to sex.



Yet, here he was, in the shower of his aunt’s penthouse, wondering what it would be like to fuck his supermodel aunt. His eyes closed as he pictured himself sucking on those large, firm tits of hers while she rode him hard, crying out in pleasure while his hands slapped her firm, round ass. His cock was getting hard at the very thought of it, now making it obvious he either had to turn the water to ice cold, get himself off in the shower….or do something that he could possibly regret by making a move on his aunt.



Christie, meanwhile, was actually wondering if she could do the same thing. It had been over a month since the topless model had enjoyed the pleasure of a man, and even that was nothing to brag about, having settled on a guy that was willing to pay for drinks, bringing him back to her penthouse to let him have his way. She had hoped he would back up his big talk but, alas, he did not last very long with her. Still, could she break this small cold streak with her own nephew? She was trying to justify it in her mind, thinking that she wouldn’t have even known it was him unless he brought it up. She cursed his mother…her sister…for splitting them up several years ago. It was not fair for her to keep her out of his life. Perhaps…she was seeing this as an opportunity to get back at her sister? Could she justify having sex with her nephew as a means of revenge? Perhaps she could…especially if her nephew was as attractive as he was, not to mention if he was packing some heat in his pants.



Michael stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, walking into the bedroom that was his for the duration of his visit to find some clean clothes. Deciding to keep it casual like his aunt had chosen to do, he opted for a simple black tank top and shorts with boxers. Stepping out of the bedroom and making his way down the hallway, the mussy haired college guy saw his aunt sitting in one of the love seats, laying across it, her body shown off so incredibly well that he was now wishing he had opted to pleasure himself in the shower instead of just dealing with it. Christie, as well, was wondering now if her thoughts were pushing her to make some type of move on him.



“So, I have to ask….how long have you been at this place? It’s absolutely amazing, especially with the view out the picture windows over here.”



Christie watched him walk across the room to the one side of the penthouse that was covered in windows that were tinted completely dark on the outside to give her privacy. She had found that sometimes peeping toms from some of the high-rises across the way would try to get a view of her, so she paid the extra money to tint the windows to their maximum darkness.



“I’ve been here just under two years, now. The agency paid the down payment on it just after I did one of my big spreads. It’s pricey, but I can afford it. The entire top floor is mine, if you haven’t figured that out yet.”



She let out a playful little giggle as she saw his face upon being told that the entire floor was hers. It blew him away, but he eventually shook the look of shock off of his face as he kept admiring the view out the window before turning back towards her, walking into the spacious living room.



“Modeling and posing doesn’t exactly leave much time for you to go out and find a significant other, does it?”



Christie thought he might have been having the same lewd thoughts that she had, and a comment like that certainly made her believe more than ever that it was the truth. Deciding to poke a little bit at her nephew, she answered him in her own way.



“Well, if you’re asking do I get the chance to have a sex life, I certainly find a way for that. I’m a supermodel after all. I can pretty much fuck whoever I want, so long as I think they can handle it.”



She winked at him and then stuck her tongue out playfully at him, sending mixed signals to Michael. What kind of a response was that? Talk about a sex life, wink, then do something like stick your tongue out?



“Maybe not just about a sex life, but an actual relationships? I know that sex is important and plenty fun….”



“God, is it fun! I just don’t get the chance to do it much, though. Photo shoots take so much time that, by the time they’re done, all I have the energy to do at the end of the day is sit in a hot tub and take care of my own needs by myself.”



She was doing it on purpose, and she was enjoying every last second of it. She literally watched him squirm in the huge sofa, wondering what was going through his head as she said such explicit things to him. The reactions he was giving certainly showed that of a horny young guy who needed some attention.



“I know it’s fun…just haven’t found many that I’m interested in too much at school, Aunt Christie.”



“A handsome hunk like you can’t get laid at college!?! I find that hard to believe, Michael. You must be really picky…”



“Yeah…I tend to look for ones that are older than me, usually.”



Christie’s did everything she could to hide the reaction she had to that response. So she was right! Her nephew loved older women, and his reaction was practically saying that he wanted to fuck her in her own penthouse! Christie now wanted to know what her nephew could offer her, and it was time to turn this into overdrive. She sat up a bit in the love seat, looking over at him.



“Older women? How much older do you look for, Michael?”



Michael laid down on the couch, stretching, actually closing his eyes as he was a bit worn out, though his mind was not helping his cause.



“Ten, sometimes fifteen years older than me. I have a bit of a crush on one of my professors….she is gorgeous. Though, she isn’t the only one.”



“Oh? Tell me about this professor of yours.”



Christie sat up, realizing that he had closed his eyes. It offered her the chance to tease herself if the story got good.



“Well…she’s pretty tall, though not as tall as you. Brunette, small but gorgeous lips, a curvy body with an incredible ass…big breasts, but nothing like what yo….”



He cut himself off at that point, though he didn’t open his eyes.



“Like me? Michael…have you been doing a little checking up on me and comparing other women to what I have?”



Michael’s eyes flew open and glanced over at her. Christie was sitting up as if she was very eager. The look in her eye was one of seduction and lust, and it dawned on Michael that she may very well be teasing him…or getting herself turned on.



“I’ve been to your site. It’s tough not to go, considering that even though you are my aunt, you have such an incredible body.”

It had, Max thought, been a terrific summer thus far and he was glad his firm had allowed him the extra time off so he could come with Alli and experience it all. They had spent several days at the big powwow for Crow Fair and he had enjoyed the dancing contests and parades enormously. He found that he loved the rugged countryside and wide open spaces of the west that allowed him to see the sky and horizon uninterrupted by skyscrapers and the building clutter he was used to. Alli and Clayton tried, at every step, to make things easier and more comfortable for him in the sometimes unfamiliar world of Indian life and culture. And their friends and family had been warm and welcoming to him, despite some initially awkward moments due as much because of his age as because of his race, he thought.



Once Alli’s grandmother had found out about his talents with a toolbox though, he’d been “in like Flynn”. He recalled their initial meeting and her refusal to speak English to him for days, despite Alli’s anger with the old woman. He’d taken it in stride and tried to soothe Alli’s temper, but one day she had stormed out to have another yelling match with her silver-haired granny. In their absence Max had discovered several cabinet doors in the old woman’s kitchen that were hanging by one screw, as well as the door out the back that had warped from the weather and now dragged, sticking on the splintering boards of the back stoop.



Doing some snooping he’d managed to find a handful of assorted screwdrivers and a bare assortment of other tools in a small chest of drawers. In other drawers around the house he found odd screws and nails and gathering his booty took it in to work on the kitchen cabinets. Coming in later the little round woman had found him shirtless and sweating in the heat, but satisfied with himself as he checked the swing of the little wood cabinet doors. She had smiled toothlessly at him then, eyes sparkling and beckoned him to come with her, nearly dancing with excitement as she pulled him out to the old barn by one arm. Alli had come around the house too, demanding to know what was going on but he could only laugh and shrug before ducking under the lintel.



Alli’s Granny had hugged him fiercely, fingers lingering in the hair of his chest as she patted him. She giggled like a school girl then, her weathered old cheeks flushing. Turning to an ancient tarp covered mess in the corner, she stroked the canvas like the skin of a long-ago lover before telling him -



“Dees for you Max!”



By now Alli had entered the barn too and he heard her slight gasp as he turned back the cloth. He was more curious than seriously expecting to find anything, but with a growing sense of wonder discovered an ancient wood box with carpenter’s tools of a hundred years ago – wood planes, awls, rasps and chisels, ball peen and claw hammers and even a tack hammer resided in the dusty old box, all wrapped in oiled rags to protect them. Reverently he looked through the box examining the tools, while a rapid-fire exchange in Shoshone took place behind him. Finally, Alli had wrapped her arms around him from behind -



“You fixed her cabinets?”



“Uh huh,” he nodded, turning his head to plant a kiss on her nose. “And if these are in as good a shape as they seem to be, maybe we can get her door fixed tonight too. I was afraid it would have to wait till I could get to a hardware store in town.”



She kissed his shoulder, tonguing some of the salt sweat from his skin, “I didn’t know you knew how to do things like that.”



Turning in her arms he grinned down at her, kissing her nose again, “Seems I may have some value besides “standing stud” after all, huh?”



Flashing her full, dazzling smile at him she agreed, “Yeah, I’d say you’re a keeper! But seriously baby, how DO you know this stuff?”



He told her then about the summers of his high school years, after his parents had divorced, spending time with his grandparents who had a little place in the country. His grandfather’s good friend and neighbor was an older Amish gentleman who had taken Max under his wing, teaching him what he could of basic woodworking and construction during those few summers – taking him into the community for every barn raising possible. Max had developed a love of working with his hands that had gone largely unfulfilled, despite his minor in architecture.



“But I don’t understand where these tools came from,” he’d said. “How did your Grandmother get them? How long has she had them for cryin’ out loud? Would she have just left them here forever?’



Alli had, blushing, done some explaining of her own, telling him how her Grandmother (and consequently both Clayton and herself)”Granny Merry” was, despite appearances, not full blooded Shoshone. Merry’s father had been a “breed” – the son of an immigrant German carpenter and a young Arapaho girl, probably “purchased” as a bride with blankets, guns or whiskey. He had inherited the dark good looks of his mother, along with the blue eyes and skill working with wood of his father. It had made him irresistible to Merry’s mother, Mockingbird Sings in the Morning. They had many happy daughters together, but no sons, and before the old man had died he had Mockingbird wrap all his tools in skins soaked in linseed oil. He’d told Mockingbird and his daughters that the tools were “for the one who will come”. As far as Granny Merry was concerned, Max was “The One”.



As for how long it had been, closest reckoning put her Granny’s age near 90, plus or minus a year or two. There was an equally old and treasured German Bible that had all the births and deaths written in it but the ink was old, faded and smudged in spots so it was impossible to tell if the old woman had been born in 1921, 1924 or 1927. Then Alli had to try to explain “Indian time” – something for which there was no easy explanation. The closest way she could explain it to him was that Indian’s traditionally don’t measure time in the same way as white society and the business world – not in 24 hour days and 7 day weeks – but in seasons, ages, eras of conflict or of drought and abundance.



He’d already noticed elements of this. Clayton and his friends might say, ‘we’ll meet you in town around noon’. It might mean that most of them would show up at some point hungry for lunch. On the other hand, it might mean they would show up, en masse, sometime before dark. At first Max’s frustration with their lack of respect for Clayton’s mother, and their lack of punctuality had him feeling seriously disgruntled. Over the days that they had been there, however, Max had noticed Alli gradually relaxing and ceasing to take such lapses personally. She was still largely punctual and if she had given her word she would be somewhere then she would move heaven and earth to be there at the stated time. But on days when they had no plans or obligations, she and her friends or relatives might discuss doing something – but Max was beginning to understand that, in this world, in this place, there was no need to rush or to stress. Necessary things were accomplished because they were necessary – feeding the chickens and other stock. Slightly less imperative things might wait until more convenient – hauling water or cutting wood (or repairing kitchen cabinets, he thought with some humor). Hunting and fishing (and SEX) seemed to always be “imperatives” even if the larder seemed fully stocked and Max wondered how much the pleasure involved in the pursuit weighed in the decision making process. He began to suspect it was a determining factor.



In this case, the family was committed to periodically renewing the oiled cloths until such time as “someone” appeared or was born with the necessary talent and desire to use the tools. The actual historic time involved did not significantly matter.



Events following their explanations had deteriorated rapidly when Max had discovered Alli was bra-less in the summer heat. He DID learn an important lesson though. Individuals with hay-fever should avoid fucking in barns at all costs. Despite Alli insisting he shower immediately he had continued sneezing and coughing for several days and totally gave up wearing contacts in favor of his wire-rimmed “emergency” glasses. It had given Granny Merry plenty of time to round up all the other family members and close neighbors who needed work done around their homes. Max was working harder than at any time since his youth. He had also lost weight, built upper body muscle, gotten quite a tan clambering around on house and barn roofs without a shirt and was sleeping better than ever before in his life. He found, when he gave the matter any thought whatsoever, that he was happy.



Alli seemed happy too. She was cooking a lot – even baking her own sourdough bread. She had started a small vegetable garden, persuading a neighbor to assist with it now in preparation to take over once they’d gone home – in return for which the neighbor would share the produce garnered with Granny Merry. She and Granny frequently worked side by side in the cool of the morning and evening. Occasionally they would grab buckets and baskets and head out into the fields and woods, bringing back their gleaned treasures after spending hours away from the house. Sometimes they’d come home giggling like schoolgirls together and freshly sunburned from skinny-dipping in Big Jimmy Creek or one of the other local waterways. Despite their ‘trifling’ ways, the family (always including such assorted aunties, uncles, cousins and friends as managed to ‘just drop by’ at mealtimes) dined well on huge salads of field greens – “wild” miner’s lettuce and tender poke and dandelion greens with whatever nuts, mushrooms, edible berries and flowers the women had found on their travels. An assortment of vegetables fresh from the productive little garden – or perhaps a soup or stew with some of the game that Clayton and the cousins seemed to forever be hunting – along with liberally buttered slabs of the crusty homemade bread would usually serve to fill the most prodigious appetite. Max HAD noticed, however, that the Indians seemed to universally share a sweet tooth and could almost always manage “a nibble” of one of Alli or her Granny’s famous “scratch” cakes or cobblers.



As the days passed and he relaxed more into the rhythm of their life he realized he was truly learning to love the vastness of the western skies, the lack of traffic noise persisting into all hours and the clean, freshness of the morning air. There was always time enough for loving here as well and a quick pat of Alli’s fanny as she scrambled eggs for breakfast might result in her handing off the spatula to a giggling Granny Merry, or eye-rolling Clayton, as she hauled him back to bed. One of his first projects, after being gifted with the tools had been installing a lock on the inside of their bedroom door. It had been prominently lacking prior to that time and occasioned not infrequent battles between Alli and her grandmother who, although used to having unlimited access to the little back bedroom, seemed most prone to “needing something” in the middle of their lovemaking. Having a lock on the door, freed them from “middle of the night-silent mode” love making they had necessarily adopted by way of coping.



Alli had approved so heartily of his thoughtfulness that she had promptly dragged him inside the little room, locking the door behind her. Arching an eyebrow at her in a mock-quizzical mode he had asked -



“And just WHAT did you have in mind, Ms. Richards?”



Licking her lips and slowly unbuttoning her shirt she grinned at him, “I dunno, baby…I thought we might see what comes up…”



He leaned back on the bed, feeling himself already starting to get hard and strain against his jeans. Damn, he thought, she hasn’t laid a hand on me yet, or shown a tit…just the THOUGHT… Playing along still, he nodded slowly.



Well, I suppose I can spare a few minutes – but I really need to get over to Annabeth Cardinal’s place to look at that old desk of hers…”



She paused in the slow peel of her shirt. “A ‘few minutes’?”



He nodded seriously, trying not to adjust or draw attention to the now painful bulge at his crotch, “Uh huh…a few minutes…if you can think of some way of passing the time…”



She licked her lips again meaningfully as she finished peeling her shirt off, her dark nipples already standing hard and proud against her tanned skin.



“Oh, that…” he said, pretending to a despair he in no way felt. “I suppose that would be…well, ‘adequate’.”



Dropping her hands to her jean zipper she shimmied out of them, her panties immediately following. Advancing on him with a glint in her eye she announced -



“I’m about to GIVE you ‘ADEQUATE’!”



He pretended to try to cover himself with his hands -



“Now wait….Honey….Just a minute….Don’t be hasty….OOOOOOHHHHH!!!!”



She had, with the precision and forthrightness that is almost second nature to all medical personnel, pulled his shirt off over his head, unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his knees along with his boxers. Kneeling in front of him she had arched one brow, the tip of her tongue nearly touching her nose and rolling her eyes at his act before opening her mouth and engulfing him to the root. Hearing his groan of pleasure she had giggled but never stopped sliding and sucking on his cock. Bobbing down to the base, where the tight curls of his pubic hair tickled her nose and then sliding back to the crown, never losing contact, her tongue sliding and teasing the sensitive skin around the rim and particularly the little knot of tissue that was so sensitive to stimulation. His hands were working on the edge of the bed now and she knew he was longing to grip her by the back of the head and fuck her mouth – but knowing too that he loved the slow torture and tease that she was giving him and wanted to give her free rein. Dipping lower she bent her head, sliding her tongue along his taint, as her finger stroked the crack of his ass, finding and lightly tickling his asshole as she opened her mouth wide to suck in first one, then the other of his balls.



“OOOOOOhhhhhhh God!”



“Hmmmmmm?” She hummed around his ball, the vibration shooting straight up into his brain and back again. “Adequate I take it”



“Nnnnnnngggggg,” Max groaned wordlessly. Then, remembering the part he was playing said, “I suppose you’ll do…”



Muttering ‘I’ll do he SUPPOSES’ she slid lower, sliding her tongue up and down his taint before running the tip of her tongue up and around the base of his sack. Inhaling one ball happily into her mouth she simultaneously slid several fingers back and down the crack of his ass to circle the rim of his asshole with the pad of her index finger. It had been a warm day and the smell of clean male sweat and arousal rose around her. As she moved her knees a little further apart, switching from circling his parts to stroking her own she could smell her own musk rising too. Max was holding her head nestled between his hands now, his fingers buried in her hair and she could feel the tension in his hands as his balls drew up and hardened.



As much as he was enjoying her ministrations he didn’t want the moment to end too soon and knew if she continued the blow job he was indeed going to ‘blow’ shortly. Not that that was a problem either, he thought, she loved to drink his cum as much as he did hers, often teasing that her favorite snack was a ‘protein smoothie’. Groaning again his hips flexed involuntarily, the urge to “FUCK” was becoming overwhelming….time to change up the rhythm he thought.



Pulling away from her he kicked out of the remainder of his clothing, laying back on the bed -



“How about sharing a little of that good stuff you’re hoarding down there?”



Bringing her dew wet fingers up into view as she joined him on the bed she solemnly licked one of the fingers, “Hmmmmm, well….I dunno…seems to me the flavor is off a little…not quite up to snuff. What do you think?”



She held a finger to his lips. He licked it – making a major production of the process with plenty of lip smacking. “Mmmm. Really hard to say sweetie.”



She giggled at the double entendre.



“There’s really only ONE way to tell for sure!”



“Oh? And what would that be?”



“Avoid the middleman…or finger…”



Leaning over her and grinning lecherously he stroked her wet folds with his own fingers, bringing them up to examine them critically, “Moisture content seems adequate…”



“There’s that word again….ADEQUATE.”



Popping his own fingers into his mouth now and simultaneously saying, “Well, that seems to improve the flavor slightly…”



“Probably due to that bland, caucasian taste you have…” she grinned wickedly at him.



He nodded sagely, “True, certainly doesn’t have that ‘Red Man’ whang to it…”



Finally breaking into gales of laughter she wrapped her arms around him, “Okay baby – you win!”



“Great! WHAT do I win”



Throwing her limbs wide open again so she was spread-eagle on the bed she giggled, “ME of course!”



Falling backwards onto the bed again he groaned mightily, “DAMN! Here, and I’d always thought that a prize was something new and unusual…” Rolling back up onto an elbow to grin at her he continued, “Instead of just the same ol’ same ol’.”



Narrowing her eyes in mock-warning, she was unable to hide the sparkle of humor in her dark eyes as she repeated, “Same ol’ same ol?”



Patting her pussy and kissing her nose lightly he nodded sagely, “Yep, same ol’ same ol.”



“Mr. Roberts, you are getting dangerously close to sleeping alone on the couch!”



Continuing to toy with her wet folds he shook his head in disagreement, “I kinda doubt it sweetie…I seem to have fairly solid evidence that SOMEBODY in this bed seriously wants fucked…and I think the couch is a little small…and a little too public for that!”



Popping his wet fingers in his mouth again he noisily sucked her juices from them, grinning at her irrepressibly.



Dropping his hand back to her slit, he stroked gently down the length of her sex, tracing the path of her lower lips. He smiled as she caught her breath, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. He bent, seeking first to draw her lips into his own, unconsciously trying to find a way to compress all of the love and passion he felt for her into their shared kiss. Using the knowledge of her body he’d gained over the past months he played on her sex as though it were a musical instrument. He realized how well he’d succeeded when she surged against him, clinging desperately with her legs locked around his wrist. The heady perfume of her musk filled the little room and the damp spot below her on the bed widened.



Alli was puffing like a steam engine now, interspersed with little cooing cries of pleasure. Nibbling a trail of fiery kisses from the corner of her jaw he was unsurprised to find her thumbing her own nipples.



Tsk’ing at her he scolded, “MY prize sweetheart….ALL mine!”



Bending his head he opened widely, attempting to engulf as much of her breast as possible in his mouth. Sucking hard to pull her deep in his mouth he chuckled at the triumphant, ‘Ohhhh, YES, baby!’ that issued from the head of the bed. He thought again, briefly, it was a shame he hadn’t known Alli when her breasts had been filled with milk to nurse Clayton. But then, he realized, he’d have been too young to take full advantage of the situation.



Tonguing her nipple, flicking it lightly and circling it with his tongue, writing their combined initials across them, he was unsurprised to feel her cunt spasm against his fingers again. She’d told him once how much she loved nipple play, saying that her nipples seemed to be directly linked to her clitoris in some way. He bent his head a little lower, inhaling the sweetly erotic scent that always lingered just below her breasts, stroking along the fold of skin where they lay against her ribcage with his tongue, enjoying the salty tang of her sweat. Pausing briefly he blew a wet raspberry in her navel, just to hear her laugh.

David rested his head against his headboard, while on the other side of the wall, his mother screamed out yet another orgasm. His cock was firmly held in his hands, as his mother screaming to be fucked harder and harder. In his mind it was him, David, she was screaming for. He could feel himself getting close, but wanted to delay that pleasure, until she was done.



He gripped the base of himself, and waited for the sensation to ebb.



“Oh, fuck. Yeah, right there, baby, right there. Keep that up and you’re gonna make me cum agaaaaaaiiiiinnnnn!”



That did it, and his semen shot out, making a high arc, before landing in the towel he had laid out. He quickly started rubbing up and down his shaft, trying to prolong the pleasure as he pictured himself shooting off into his sexy mother. Her short blonde hair matted to her head with sweat, as her large tits swayed above him. He moaned louder, and hoped that they didn’t hear him next door, as his own orgasm intensified.



By the time he was done cleaning up, he could hear his dad leaving. He was taking off on another one of his trips, leaving his mother, Marion, and him alone for a couple weeks. He was in the business of restoring businesses after a fire or some other natural disaster, and his company sent him to both evaluate the estimated costs, as well as supervise the restorations. Quite often it seemed like he was gone more than he was home.



“Oh, hunny, I didn’t realize you were home,” his mom told him as he dumped his towel in the laundry. She didn’t miss what he’d dropped off, and gave a small grimace. “Heard, us huh?”



David wasn’t in the least bit embarrassed. They were like best friends, and talked about almost anything. “Sorry, mom–” Not that he really was! “–It was kinda hard NOT to.”



She grimaced again for a moment, and then shrugged it off. “Your dad will be gone for about a week this time, so it’s just us till then.”



“Yeah?” David knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking the next question. “When is Peter coming over?”



This time her grimace turned into a fully fledged scowl. “My BOSS is coming over tomorrow, so that we can discuss some insurance claims that look fraudulent.”



We both knew that was a lie, and we both knew that we both knew, but mom did try to keep up some appearances.



His mom was a horny woman, and who could blame her? At forty-five she still looked like she was in her thirties, and she worked out regularly to keep her slim frame. The only thing that wasn’t slim about her was her huge knockers, which David realized he was currently staring at.



“If you’re done ogling me, dinner will be in a couple hours, and I could use your help.” That was another great thing about his mom. She hated to order food, and they almost always had home-cooked meals.



David soon found himself peeling potatoes, while his mom worked on the rest of the food. He kept catching himself glancing at her as she worked; admiring how her hips swayed as she kneaded the hamburger, or the way her pants hugged her ass as she bent over the counter. Marion caught him looking a few times, but she just shook her head at her son’s foolishness, and continued working.



After dinner, David had some reports to fill out online for his job, and so retired to his room for the night. He was an accountant for various firms, and made good money doing it. He chose to live at home to save on the cost of rent, and be close to his mother. It wasn’t that David always thought about sex when it came to Marion. He truly loved her, and enjoyed helping her out whenever his dad was away on business. He just couldn’t help himself when he heard her having sex, or when she dressed in a sexy fashion, as she was often wont to do.



He had just finished his last report, when he heard the shower start in the hallway. David had often wondered why the master bedroom didn’t have its own bathroom, but he didn’t complain, because the hallway bathroom had one more oddity, that worked to his favor; it didn’t have a fan.



This usually meant that his mother would crack the door so that the cool air would creep in and keep the mirror from fogging up. It also meant he could get a good peek at her naked.



Unfortunately, just as he reached the crack in the door, she was slipping behind the shower curtain, cutting off his view. David was patient, however, and waited for her to finish.



He whiled away the minutes imagining her rubbing her loofah across her ample bosom, along her slender thighs, and between her succulent butt cheeks. He was already hard as a rock by the time she turned off the water.



The shower curtain was thrown back, and David failed to cover a gasp at the glorious sight before him. Water droplets covered her body, dripping off her breasts, and running down her legs. Her short hair was plastered to her head, and she wasn’t wearing an ounce of makeup. He knew that some men preferred their women all dolled up, but there were times, like now for instance, that David liked the natural beauty of a woman to shine through. Her chest sagged only slightly, despite her age and having had him, and one miscarriage. After the miscarriage, his father had been fixed, not wanting to suffer that pain again. Her nipples were large and hard as the water cooled them, and sat perfectly on her mounds. Her pussy had a slight blonde fuzzy growth, which David knew she usually kept trimmed, if not shaved. From this distance, he could just make out her labia poking through her outer lips.



She grabbed a towel, and David slipped his hand down his pants, grasping himself again. His mother was a sexual goddess as far as he was concerned, and he was not in control of his lusts. In truth, it was by the barest thread of decency that stopped him from entering the bathroom and having his way with her, right then and there.



Marion bent over to dry her calves and feet, allowing David to see her brown hole and a better shot at her crotch.



As soon as she was dry, she wrapped the towel around her waist, and walked up to the fog-free mirror, breasts swaying with her movement.



This was the most dangerous time for David, as the mirror was directly in front of the crack in the door. All it would take is for a flick of her eyes to catch him staring at her, and he would be busted. There wasn’t an excuse he could come up with to explain why his face would be looking through the cracked door at his nude mother. He had to get his breathing under control, so that he wasn’t given away from the sound.



He couldn’t pull away though, as Marion placed her hands above her breasts, and lifted them by pulling her skin up, then let go, and watched them bounce. She did this a few times, grimacing, David figured, at the way they sagged. He was simply mesmerized. He watched as she leaned toward the mirror, her melons dangling from her chest, and began to tug at her face. She really didn’t look her age, but like most women, she saw flaws in herself that others were incapable of seeing, including her only child.



She pulled back, and David realized he had overstayed his luck, and had to get out of the hallway. He pulled his hand from his pants as he stood up, and started walking as normal as he could with his hard on, down the hallway. A second later, the door opened all the way, and he turned to see his mother stick her head out.



“Turn around, son. I’m coming out,” she told him when she spied him.



“I don’t understand why you don’t just wrap a towel around your whole body,” David replied as he turned around. The truth was that he didn’t want her to wrap it around her whole body, but he had to play the his part.



He didn’t hear anything in response, and turned to see that she was already in her room, the door tightly shut. David retreated to his own domain, locking the door behind him. He grabbed one of his tube socks out of his drawer. In what felt like record time, he was dumping his load into the sock, and collapsing back on his bed. That night, not for the first time, David wondered if there was some way to get his mother to sleep with him.



* * *



The following day at work, all David could think about was getting home, and hopefully catching his mother and her boss, Peter, fucking again. He had been shocked the first time he had found them together, and had confronted his mother about it as soon as Peter had left.



“I have needs too, son, and it just so happens that when your dad is away, Peter takes care of those needs,” she’d told him.



“What about dad? How do you think he would feel to know his wife was stepping out on him?” David had shot back angrily. His anger only increased when she started laughing.



“Do you think he stays celibate on his trips? Your dad is a good looking man, and he knows how to please a woman. We have an understanding: when he is home, we stay faithful to each other, but when one of us is gone, we are free to do as we like.” David had been speechless to learn this. “We both have strong sex drives, and quite frankly, it is unreasonable to expect either of us to go without a good screwing for longer than a day or two.”



Since that day, it was still a rare occurrence when he caught them. He didn’t know if it was his mother or Peter that was shy about it, but they were usually working by the time he arrived home.



David typed the last of his numbers into the spreadsheet, and double checked his math. Everything was accurate. Looking at the clock, it was about four PM. If he hurried, he might just catch them.



He broke a few speed limits on the way home, but he knew where all the speed traps were, and avoided speeding through those.



He saw Peter’s car in the driveway as he pulled in, and his heart started beating. He just might be in time!



He entered through the front door, stepping quietly, hoping to hear some moaning.



It was deadly quiet. He tip toed back to his room, and pressed his ear against the shared wall, and could hear something, but wasn’t sure what. He lithely moved back out of his room, and almost gasped as he noticed his mother’s door was cracked. She was usually more circumspect when it came to her and Peter screwing.



David dropped down to his hands and knees, and crawled to the slight opening.



The lights were off, but the thin curtains let in enough light for David to see, as soon as his eyes adjusted. Peter was on top of her, plunging in and out, as she grunted with each thrust. Her head was pointed in David’s direction, so there was no way she could see him, but for a second, he thought he had been busted by Peter.



Peter didn’t slow down, however, so David figured he was safe. He realized that the sound he had heard from his room, was his mother’s grunting, and wondered why she was being so quiet. Usually she was rather loud in her lovemaking.



Peter leaned forward, and hooked his arms under Marion’s shoulders, and pulled her back on him. “Oh, fuck!” Marion screamed as he did this, and then covered her mouth with her hand. David now had an excellent view of his mother’s ass, as she moved her hips on top of her boss.



“Let it out, baby,” David heard Peter say. “Your son won’t be home for awhile. You don’t need to be so quiet, and I love to hear moan.” Peter picked up his pace beneath her, and Marion had to place her hand against his chest to steady her at the new onslaught. She stuck her knuckle in her mouth, and David figured it was to hold back her cries. “Come on!” Peter moaned.



“I don’t want him catching us anymore,” she said, pulling her knuckle from between her teeth. “He already gives me weird looks, as it is.”



“Oh, come on! You like the way he looks at you. I’ve seen him looking at you breasts,” as he spoke, Peter began to lightly stroke Marion’s chest, “he seems to like your ass, too.”



“Stop it. He’s my son!” If David didn’t know any better, he would have thought she had moaned out that last part.



“You can’t fool me, Marion. I felt your pussy tighten as I mentioned him, and I felt you get wetter when you did.”



“No, no!” Marion whined.



“I wonder what you would do if he came in here right now and wanted to fuck you. Would you let him?”



“He is… Oh Gawd! He’s my son!” She moaned, picking up her own pace.



David didn’t know what Peter was playing at, but he was harder than he had ever been in his life. He silently unzipped his fly, and pulled out his meat. He started to stroke himself as watched his mother and Peter fucking.



“Say his name, Marion. Say your son’s name.”



“No, I can’t. Not while we’re… Ung… Yes, harder. Fuck me harder!” Peter stopped moving though, and Marion cried out in frustration. “Why’d you stop?”



“Not until you say his name,” Peter said in a tone that David knew meant business.



David watched, as Peter reached between them, and assumed he was going to play with her clit, but his mom didn’t react.



“I don’t know why you want me to. It is wrong! That’s too close to incest. I won’t–Ahhhh!” Peter must have finally touched her clit, but then he stopped again, and just looked at her, waiting.



Marion placed both her hands next to Peter’s head on the bed, and brought her face close to his. David could only imagine the serious look she was giving him. He had to strain his ears to hear what she said.



“Fine, if you want to hear me say it that badly… David.” The sound of his name as she sat atop Peter was like lightning running through his soul. He had to stop masturbating, because he was too close to blowing his load right there against the door.



As soon as she said her son’s name, Peter began to move inside her, slowly. “Say it again,” he commanded.



“Ahh, David…” this time his name came out in a definite moan, as Peter picked up his pace.



“Again,” the demand was repeated.



Marion’s hips were moving as fast as she could now, as she said it again, and again. Each time she called her son’s name, she grew louder and Peter picked up his pace.



“David, David, Awe, Fuck me, David! Fuck me harder! I’m gonna cum! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, David you’re gonna make your mom cum all over yooooouuuuuuu!” Marion began to shake and shudder and he heard Peter grunt as he started his own orgasm.



David had to run to his room, and barely made it before he shot his own load all over his carpet. He had almost lost it at her doorway, but had had just enough presence of mind to know that he couldn’t make a mess there, and left.



David quickly cleaned up his spunk, and then snuck out his window. He ran to the front door, and then took a few seconds to catch his breath. The image of his mom getting banged while she called his name and came kept running through his head.



It took longer than normal, but he was finally able to get himself under control, and he opened the door loudly, allowing it to bang against the wall. “I’m home,” he yelled, hoping that he had given them enough time to get dressed. He fervently hoped they wouldn’t suspect that he had been watching.



“Back here, son,” Marion called, and David wondered if she sounded out of breath. He went back to her room, where only minutes before, she had been screaming his name, but now looked up as Peter unscrewed a light bulb. “The light went out, and Peter was nice enough to change it for me. I can’t reach it myself,” she explained unnecessarily. David was certain it was a lie, but played along, as both were fully clothed, and there wasn’t anything other than his memory to say anything to the contrary.



Peter finally got the bulb free, and David thought he might have winked as he walked by to get another one.



“So, how was work?” Marion asked. Did she seem more nervous than usual? David wondered, but shrugged it off as his own paranoia. He started to tell her about work when Peter returned with a new bulb, and screwed it into place.



“Well, that ought to allow things to be seen better in here from now on, right David?” Why was he asking him, David wondered, but just shrugged noncommittally? “Well, Marion, I’d better get those files back to the office. We will have a busy day tomorrow, trying to prove some of those cases are fraudulent.”



Marion walked him to the door, and this time there was no mistaking the wink Peter gave him as he left. David then knew that Peter had caught him spying, and had probably said everything just for him. But the question that kept going through his mind was: why?



Dinner that night started out quiet as usual, until Marion spoke up. “When do you think you’ll find a good girl?”



This was a conversation David hated having, and she asked it all too often. Hoping to end it quickly, he told her the truth. “Just as soon as I find a woman that can possibly compare to you, mom.” That usually ended the conversation, but tonight it seemed to fail.



“And in what ways are you comparing them to me?”



David didn’t know how to answer, and started blushing instead. He couldn’t believe that at twenty-eight he could still blush like this. Well, the truth had gotten him into this mess; he would use it to get him out. “I am looking for someone who is smart, and funny, and is willing to take good care of me.”



“Is that all, David?” Did she seem disappointed? The sound of his name on her lips brought back memories of earlier that evening.



“Um… Okay. I am partial to blondes.”



“Blondes, huh? What about breasts?” To his shock, Marion cupped her large breasts through her shirt as she asked this question.



David mumbled out the truth before he could think better of it. “Yours are the perfect size.”



She just smiled, as she asked, “What about rear ends? I hear some men are really into those.”



“Yes, your butt is the nicest I’ve seen.” They had often talked about many things, including sex, but had never been this open or personal before, and David was beginning to like it.



“But we shouldn’t talk about me. I want to talk about you finding a woman for yourself.” The smile was still on her face, as she looked at him.



“What do I need a woman for, when I’ve got you?” He was surprised at the bluntness of his own statement, but relaxed as Marion giggled.



“There are some things I can’t take care of as your mother, son.”



He was about to protest this statement, but thought better of it. Despite what he had witnessed earlier that day, he didn’t dare cross that line yet. Instead he replied, “I can take care of those things myself.”



She looked at him for a few uncomfortable seconds, and then finally asked, “Do you… Um… Do you take care of those, er, things often?”



“Almost every day,” the answer was out before he could think better of it. Marion’s eyes grew large at the answer, but she dropped her gaze to her nearly empty plate.



“Eat your food, before it gets cold,” she finally said. David had forgotten that they were eating dinner. He recognized that she wanted the conversation to end, and even though he now wanted to keep it going, he had no idea how to.



That night when she showered, David was let down to find the bathroom door closed and locked.



* * *



The next couple days, David failed to catch Peter and his mother in the act, and was even surprised when they weren’t home when he got off work. He figured that they probably did it during lunch, and then drove back to their office, and an idea formed in his head.



It was Friday, and David got up as usual, drank the coffee his mom had set out for him, and then left as though he were going to work. He parked his car a couple blocks away, called to let his boss know that he was feeling sick and would be working from home, then walked back to his house.



He hid in some bushes till he saw his mom drive away, before going in, and locking the door behind him. He would make sure he was home when they came here to screw.



He opened his computer, and worked while he waited for them. Sure enough, a little after noon, he heard a car door close outside.



He flipped off his computer screen, and made sure his door was open. Jumping into his own closet, he waited to hear them pass by his room. He had left his door open so that his mother would see his room was empty, as well as being quiet when he left to spy on them.

Chapter 02: Second Coming



A warm summer wind blew through the tall maples and taller hemlocks of the undeveloped wood that stood amidst the quiet suburbs where Andrew lived. It had been a good, hot summer, but the evenings were beginning to cool off a bit. Andrew stood amongst the trees, waiting. His brother Mark would be arriving later that evening to visit him and their parents. Andrew was excited about this, excited to hear all about Mark’s adventures at college. What really thrilled him, though, as he stood waiting in the woods that stood the better part of a mile away from his house, was the fact that today he was scheduled to do yard work for the Wilsons.



He had been a bit hasty, though, skipping breakfast against his mother’s reasonable request that he get something inside him before all that yard work. As a result, Andrew discovered Mr. Wilson’s car was still in the drive at 1221 Quail Drive this early in the AM. Rather than having yet another awkward conversation with Mr. Wilson, Andrew decided to wait it out in the woods a few blocks away. He just wasn’t in the mood for a conversation with Mr. Wilson this morning. Andrew had arrived too early once before, and the resulting encounter with Mr. Wilson was just too awkward. Oh sure, Mr. Wilson was perfectly friendly and full of sporting admiration for the young man, but for Andrew it was a bitter way to start an otherwise dynamite day. For Andrew, it was just too uncomfortable bidding the man a good day mere minutes before standing in the Wilson’s kitchen getting a superb blowjob from Mrs. Wilson.



He looked at his watch once after willing himself not to look for what seemed an eternity of standing peacefully among the trees. It was a quarter to nine; late enough. Andrew left the wood and found the end of the sidewalk that lead to the Wilson’s house and beyond. The neighborhood was quiet. He turned the corner of Maple and Quail where he almost leapt for joy at the absence of Mr. Wilson’s car in the driveway. This morning he felt especially eager to avail himself to Mrs. Wilson.



It had been weeks since their first secret encounter; the night Andrew had gambled and won. Since that evening, Andrew had been with Doreen six times, each under the guise of Andrew doing yard work for the Wilson’s. Sure, he did a great job working in the Wilson’s back yard, but not before working on Doreen. It was usually fairly quick, but Doreen responded to Andrew’s affections with such white hot zeal that Andrew felt it was almost his duty to please her. Andrew found his heaven in their affair. Some nights he lay awake in bed imagining where this whole thing would lead him. Today would mark a new chapter in Andrew’s secret life.



Andrew knocked on the Wilson’s front door. Doreen answered after a few moments, holding the door wide and bidding him enter. Andrew entered and stood in the foyer with his hands tucked innocently in his pockets. Doreen closed the door and locked it. She turned to him, hands still on the door behind her as if to keep it closed.



“Andrew…” Doreen beamed uncontrollably at some thought that she just had to share. Her eyes twinkled and her cheeks blushed slightly, giving her that beautiful polished glow that only older women can achieve. Her hair was shorter now, with some highlights of lighter blonde amidst the light ash brown of her natural hair color. The Doreen Andrew knew from the past had successfully kept her figure a secret; wearing lose fitting flannel and denim, button up shirts and skirt suits fit for grandma when the occasion demanded it. Now though, Doreen playfully took to wearing things that would let Andrew know full well what her intentions were. Today she wore a black wool sweater, jeans and slip on shoes. Nothing provocative if worn by anyone else, but on Doreen that sweater looked completely sinful. Her immense bosom stretched the fabric taut across her chest and back. The graceful swell of her hips was completely given away by the jeans she now wore.



Hanging from a gold chain around her neck was the cross she always wore. It seemed now to emit its own light against the black of her sweater, reminding Andrew of his folly. He would go gladly into that dark pit of lust any time she bid him. Andrew yearned to hold her close and feel her body press into his more than anything he had ever known. Doreen was now Andrew’s one wish, his only true desire.



Andrew asked her what was on her mind, smiling at her reaction. She did a little side-step jump while clasping her hands together in a gesture of supplication. “Well… I was wondering if we could wait on today’s… activities.” Her voice was full of excitement. Andrew’s curiosity was piqued. He marveled at the way she remained the proper, dignified Doreen that he had always known, more or less, even after they had acquired carnal knowledge of one another. He loved that about her; it kept him wanting more.



“I am having a friend over today for our monthly gab session. We usually go shopping or have our hair done, you know, like women do. Today I thought we could stay here and have brunch and, well…” Doreen’s speech wavered for a moment. “Come, sit down Andrew.” Doreen gestured towards the living room.



Andrew took a seat in the great armchair at the head of the coffee table while Doreen perched on the sofa, near him. “Andrew, I have something to confess.” Her big, pretty brown eyes searched Andrew’s face for a mark of forgiveness. She edged nearer to him on her seat and put a hand on his. Her touch was so soft and loving that Andrew almost threw himself on her in his passion, but of course he listened to the woman instead. Doreen seemed worried, almost afraid…



“Andrew, I told my friend Clara about us.” She paused then, letting the information take its place in Andrew’s mind. “I told her that we have had sex numerous times, and that you made me extremely happy. Andrew… Clara is a very wonderful person and I don’t think you have any need for worry about her telling anyone that-”



Andrew interrupted her “No, no. Really, it’s OK, I trust you,” he said, smiling at her polite concern for his feelings. “I’m not worried.”



Doreen squeezed his hand and cocked her head to one side before speaking again. “Oh, Andrew, you are so good to me.” She held there for a moment of blissful tension before continuing. “I wonder though, if you wouldn’t mind meeting Clara. She lives in Allerton, and we get together at least once a month so she’ll be here today. It would be very good of you to stay and meet her. She’ll be here in another twenty minutes or so.”



Andrew assured Doreen that he didn’t mind a bit. “Well,” Doreen said, hands slapping her knees, “I’m making brunch. Come keep me company in the kitchen and I’ll get you some orange juice.”



Andrew sat at the breakfast bar at the kitchen island as Doreen prepared a few things for brunch. They flirted, laughed, spoke like old friends. Then, Doreen went quiet. There was a small, secret smile on her face and a coy look in her eye as she opened a cupboard above her. She produced three large wine glasses, one of which she set in front of Andrew.



“What are you…” Andrew was cut off by Doreen’s look, which said plainly “Shut your mouth, silly boy.”



Doreen filled the glass half-full of orange juice from the large pitcher she had made. Eyeing Andrew menacingly to be sure he did not speak out of turn, she produced a large, ice cold bottle of champagne from the refrigerator. Andrew smiled, enchanted by the spirit of fun that had descended upon the woman. Doreen was not finished.



Removing the foil from the top of the bottle, Doreen proceeded to open the bottle with experienced hands. Playfully, she let the cork fly and the foam run a little. She brought the bottle to her mouth as it erupted softly, catching a good bit of the foam in her mouth. She swallowed, then licked the bottle neck clear of any excess in a bewitching act of suggestion that sent a chill down Andrew’s back and a fire blazing deep inside him. Doreen poured a generous amount of the champagne into Andrew’s glass, completing the drink.



“It’s called,” Doreen said in a matter-of-fact tone, “a mimosa. We drink them with brunch.” She then proceeded to make one for herself and another for the guest yet to arrive.



Andrew drank deeply from his glass. It was cool, refreshing as orange juice always was, but there was a hint of excitement, a whiff of levity about the drink. It was, Andrew had to admit, the drink for that moment. Perfect. He hadn’t had much experience with alcohol aside from what his brother had shared with him, but he hoped that all of it was as delightful as this.



Doreen continued setting the little kitchen table, moving quickly, singing lightly to herself. Andrew’s eyes stalked their prey. The breasts that he had come to crave, to ache for, beckoned him like sirens so near to him. Like the sirens from myth, they would call him to his unrestraint; turn him to a slave in his own fascination. Still he sat; drinking his first champagne and watching this creature of lust go about her business.



She knew he watched her, knew he would have her sprawled across the table with her insides crammed full of him until he cried out in ecstasy, but she had him waiting. She had him in a hell so delicious that she knew he would come when she called him. The certainty of his need for her surrender was the surest thing she had known in so many years. She savored the feeling like that of a hot bath. She was in no hurry to end it before she’d had enough.



“Andrew, you answer the door if you hear the doorbell ring.” Doreen requested. “I’m going upstairs for a minute.”



Andrew waited at the bar, sipping his drink. It seemed that he had felt nervous at the thought of meeting this person, the only person who knew of his affair with Doreen, but now the feeling had lifted. No, anxiety had subsided, leaving him feeling warm and secure. After a time the doorbell did ring. Andrew rose from his seat, noticed an odd sensation as he passed from the kitchen to the hallway, and went for the door. He opened it.



There, standing on the front porch was Clara. Recognition dawned on her pretty, plump face as she greeted Andrew. “You must be the landscaper!” Clara said as Andrew took her hand.



“Andrew.” He said, noticing how supple her handshake was. “And you must be Clara I suppose.”



“That I am,” Clara announced as Andrew motioned her inside and shut the door behind her. “Andrew it’s lovely to meet you, but where’s my Doreen? We were going to have brunch this morning.”



“She’s upstairs I think.” Andrew stated. “But the kitchen is right this way.”



Clara laughed and proceeded in the direction of the kitchen. Click, click, click. Andrew suddenly felt his head go slightly swimmy. It was as if he was back on that night, weeks ago, when Doreen had invited him in to her home. The sound of Clara’s heels on the hallway floor was enough to trigger that blissful memory, and suddenly Clara had all of Andrew’s attention. He followed into the kitchen. Once there, Clara took the drink that she knew was hers and turned to Andrew who had taken up his seat at the bar once again.



“So Doreen tells me you’re doing great work out there.” Clara sipped at her mimosa, and seemed completely at ease. Her squarish jaw and button nose might have been at odds with each other if it weren’t for her beautiful blue eyes and smiling lips. Andrew spoke with her, finding it in himself to laugh and even flirt with this near stranger. He found this to be surprisingly easy.



Then it hit Andrew: Clara, after milling around the kitchen a little, showed one striking similarity to Doreen. Under the black sport coat and white silk shirt Clara wore were a pair of breasts that, after catching their profile, made Andrew’s heart skip a beat. She was a bit thicker than Doreen, but not at all unappealing. Her breasts were huge. She was beaming at him.



“…well?” She looked amused, expectant. She had just asked Andrew a question and he hadn’t the slightest idea what it was.



As if to save Andrew from certain embarrassment, Doreen clicked down the hall and into the kitchen. She was now wearing the sinister black high heels she had worn on that fateful night weeks before. The two women greeted each other with a good amount of laughter and boisterous babble. They hugged each other, exchanged jokes and laughed together until Andrew thought he was safely forgotten.



Friends though they were, the bodies of the two women faced each other as if on the field of battle; fighting a silent war for dominance. Andrew could sense this tension. From his solitary perch he eyed both women, drawing unavoidable comparisons.



Clara was perhaps a bit younger than Doreen. She was clad in a black wool skirt and black nylons which suited her legs very well, tidy as they were. She had a bit of a rump to her, which was in glorious proportion to her impressive upper-half. She stood shorter than Doreen even with her heels on. Her hair made her a true brunette; deep, dark and wavy. Her smile was honest and very infectious. Clara was a charmer.



“Andrew,” Doreen pulled herself away from their conversation, while snapping Andrew out of his quiet musings, “Would you like to join us for brunch?”



Clara smiled at him. “You look hungry, Andrew.” She nearly chided, “I’m sure the yard can wait.”



“You’ve done so much work for me as it is.” Doreen argued erroneously. “I think you deserve a bit of a reprieve. Join us.”



Andrew sat with the two women and ate merrily. He feasted upon cantaloupe and waffles while his eyes feasted upon Clara. Her suit jacket now removed, the white silk shirt rendered her breasts even more captivating than before. The buttons were all done up to her collar, removing any chance Andrew might have had of seeing any cleavage. Still, the sheer size and prime shape of the ravishing busts had him at full mast. The resulting erection was safely hidden below the table, allowing Andrew to bask in the fit of lust that had taken him.



Doreen suddenly expressed a need for music, and dashed to the living room to put something on. Clara smiled at Andrew, and it was all Andrew could do not to blush. This reaction made Clara giggle, as she reached for the bottle of champagne to refill her glass. Without provocation, she poured a bit more into Andrew’s glass.



“Why don’t we join Doreen in the living room?” Clara stood, without waiting for Andrew’s reply. She picked up Doreen’s glass and walked away, towards the living room and the source of the jazz that began to play. Click, click, click, went Clara’s heels. Her skirt swayed with the movement of her knees, commanding Andrew to obey. He rose, despite his condition, and followed.



As he entered the hallway, the effects of this unexpected amount of alcohol began to manifest. When he was seated at the table he felt fine, but walking was a different story. Clara’s body moved before him, intensifying the effect. It was as if he was on a ship at sea, and her hips controlled the motion. He made it to the chair at the coffee table, and found himself in need of another sip.



Doreen and Clara sat on the sofa, legs crossed, spirits high. Andrew drank his champagne slowly all the while, happily observing the two women in their revelry. The music massaged his mind while the champagne bewitched his heart. Though nothing could mesmerize him like the two absolutely imposing sets of breasts that contested for his adoration. He found it easy to amuse himself with the idea that this was all a show for his pleasure. He imagined that he was a king sitting on his throne. Another sip might help…



As if from nowhere, Doreen’s hand snatched Andrew’s glass from him. She stood, smiling down at him. “Oh I think that’s quite enough, dear.” She quipped as she drank what remained in Andrew’s glass. Clara laughed, tossing her head back in delight. Andrew had unwittingly become the subject of their fun.



Andrew stood from his chair, suddenly worried that he’d overstayed his welcome and that Doreen probably wanted him to get something done in the back yard. Just as quickly, he found himself seated again. He was quite drunk. This resulted in another burst of uproarious laughter from Doreen and Clara. Doreen collected herself politely, and asked if Andrew felt OK.



“I… I don’t know. I think I may be drunk…” Andrew answered through the haze that seemed to surround him. Clara giggled at his callowness. Doreen reached down to him and took his hand.



“Come on, Andrew. I think you had better go lay down. Come with me.” Doreen steadied him as he rose. She led him gingerly to the stairs, smiling warmly. “Can you make it up the stairs?”



Andrew felt like he could have done anything, if the room would simply stop spinning. He climbed the stairs, with Doreen close behind him. Doreen guided him across the landing to the guest bedroom, with which Andrew was actually quite familiar. Once there, he fell headlong onto the welcoming guest bed. The room was blessedly dark, but even with his eyes closed the spinning continued. He could hear music from the living room below, had it gotten louder? It resonated in the guest room, and lulled him deeper into the state of lethargy that overcame him. The door to the room clicked shut, banishing much of the din from the stereo below. Andrew became aware of a stirring in the room, sobering him momentarily. He turned.



Looking back towards the door, Andrew almost felt as if he were looking down on himself and the rest of the room. There, inside the room with him, stood Doreen. Next to her stood Clara. They returned his surprised stare with hunted, apprehensive looks that betrayed their hunger. Doreen moved first, knowing her place. She approached the bed and began to remove Andrew’s shoes. Andrew was completely immobilized by the excitement that he felt then, and it was as if he was tied to the bed by Doreen’s will.



“Let’s get you more comfortable, dear.” Doreen proposed. With his shoes and socks off, Doreen then moved around the bed to Andrew’s side. She tugged at his shirt and he cooperated. Doreen smiled down at him over her huge breasts. The cross glinted in the small light that came from the curtained window. Doreen looked up at Clara. “Clara, would you help the lad get his pants off?”



Clara moved, finally, and raised herself onto the king size bed. She crawled the short distance up his legs and stopped before his middle. There, as she held herself above his body, a gold chain freed itself from beneath the white silk shirt and there hung a cross; identical to the one that Doreen wore. It hung proudly between the massive breasts that bulged magnificently above Andrew’s body. Clara unfastened Andrew’s pants with slow, deliberate motion.



Doreen stood by in contemplative silence as Clara dragged Andrew’s pants off of him. There, resting hotly atop Andrew’s stomach and waist laid his great and ungodly penis. Clara knelt then, righting herself above his body, never taking her eyes off of the uncanny organ. “My god…” She uttered, licking her deep red lips.



“Yes.” Doreen mused, “Have you ever seen such a gorgeous cock?”



Clara swallowed hard. “No. It’s absolutely astounding.”



Doreen walked around the bed, watching the two of them. “Well, go ahead Andrew. Give her what she wants.” Then, without warning, Doreen reached around the front of Clara and tore her shirt open violently. Clara’s breasts burst from the confines of the cloth, one even wrenching free of the black lace bra that barely held the two glands in place. Clara gasped, shocked at her sudden nakedness. There was an eternity then, where Andrew’s naked cock and Clara’s bawdy breasts stood in the cool air of the same room. The air was ripe with lust.



Clara bent down, shifting her hips to lower her body upon him. She grasped his middle with her pretty hands and looked up, as if needing reassurance before she continued. His expression was almost that of fear, but a mad desire was behind his eyes, and she could not mistake his wanting. She paid homage to his great phallus, gazing on it with nothing short of reverence. She cocked her head to one side, lowered her head and closed her lips about the shaft of his penis.

I rang her door bell and waited. I’m sure Dee wasn’t expecting me and I wasn’t planning to stay long.



She answered shortly and was surprised to see me.



She was wearing light casual pants and top that women wear at home and had a towel wrapped around her hair. She had the most joyous smile and was very interested in how I’d been since she hadn’t seen me in quite a while.



She invited me inside as I handed her the package my mom had asked me to drop off. I entered asking how her mom was and whether she was home. Well Dee was alone and had actually recently gotten home from work at the hospital.



As she turned to put the package down on the floor she bent over and I got the greatest view of her magnificent behind.



It had indeed been a few years since I’d seen her, but I do remember how much I had wanted to be naked with this woman.



She’d been divorced for some years and did not date. This is one woman who needed some of what I had to give but she



was my mom’s friend and I was reluctant to pursue anything with her while I was still living at home. In the past she had teased me saying



things about me having a hot date or getting some and that kind of thing and the way she said it, it had always made me think she was flirting.



But again, she was my mom’s friend and I was busy with girls my own age!



I was on my own now and was not letting opportunity pass me by. I got bolder with each conquest. So this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. I just had to tell her what a great



ass she had. I gave a subtle flirt of my own.



“Wow, nice view” is all I said.



She stood back up and looked at me and asked “What view?”



“The view I just had when you put the package on the floor.”



“Are you flirting with me young man.”



“More than that Dee,” moving closer to her.



She smiled and put her hand on my chest.



“Don’t tease like that Baby.”



I grabbed her and put my lips on hers. I kissed her and she slipped her tongue into my mouth. She wasn’t holding back now. I massaged her breasts



and put one hand on her ample ass and squeezed.



I broke the kiss and said, “Why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable.”



I began to walk still embracing her, so she’s walking backward. We walk this way still kissing and feeling each other up till



we got to her room.



I released her and took my shirt off. I watched as she took off her blouse and revealed her fat brown tits. I love what tits do for a woman’s



body. I’m not a tit man per se. I just like how sexy they can make a woman’s body, and love to wrap them around my cock.



I undid my pants and stepped out of them and told her, “Take your pants off.”



She complied but left her panties on, so I told her to take them off as well and asked that she turned around.



She turned around and bent over to remove her panties. I sank quickly to my knees and shoved my face into her ass as soon as



the panties passed her knees. I spread her cheeks and inhaled her aroma before licking her crack top to bottom.



She walked towards her bed and climbed on and lay down spreading her thighs and said, “Come up here baby.”



I got up and joined her on the bed. I crawled between her legs and made my way to her pussy. I began kissing her pussy from top to bottom.



I parted her lips with my tongue and licked up and down. I slipped my tongue deep into her and she let out an “oooo”.



She raised her knees up and told me,



“Get inside me sweetie, I want that cock.”



I licked her butt hole before I obliged and climbed on top of her, shoving my cock into her wet pussy. She wrapped her ankles around the back of my thighs and grabbed



hold of my ass. She ran her fingers through my crack as I slowly slid in and out of that hot juicy pussy. I love to have my ass played with



so I was really loving this. I kissed her hot lips and gave her my tongue which she sucked on.



“That’s it baby, nice and slow. I love it like that,” she said.



“You got it lady, just don’t stop playing with my butt.”



I kissed her cheeks, her nose, I kissed my way all over her face and around to her ears and down to her neck. I massaged her big tits as we made love to each other.



We stayed like this for the longest time stretching out the pleasure as long as possible. I ground my hips into her each time I reentered her.



I made love to her slow and easy just the way we both liked it and we both enjoyed it very much. When she came she squeezed my ass



and ground her pussy up to meet my cock. I didn’t want to wait any longer and gushed my sticky juice into her pussy at the same time.



I enjoyed the spasms of orgasm over and over again sliding in and out of her hot pussy while relishing the taste and smell of her sexy mouth.



This was the first of many afternoons I spent with Dee. We became good friends (with benefits) and I’ve been a regular visitor ever since.

She was mother of my new best friend and made heads turned when she walked elegantly with her tall femininity. I saw men go crazy in her presence and my pop was one of her silent admirers. At 42 she maintained her shape quite well as compared to other barrel shaped aunties.



I was over 18 years old and used to visit her house a lot. Some times I could feel she used to look at me differently, moving around in low neck short gown with no bra. I was fascinated by her bouncing boobs and rippling ass…and would masturbate later many times.



My experience with 2 girls of my age was good but both were silly about keeping their virginity intact and never wanted to get fucked in real way so I had to content with hurried fondling, fingering, stroking and kissing only and would later unload my semen by pumping my dick hard.



Some times she would bend down to pick some some thing from floor with her ass to me. I would see most of her naked butt and my tool would jump up.



She would turn and look at me with a smile and would go, leaving me very hard and hot. I was beginning to realize that she did show her nude butt to tease me. It was difficult not to have an erection whenever she come near. My dear studious friend Raman was oblivious of her hot design on me, and I never shared. That would have been the end of our friendship with a messy fist fight.



One afternoon, my friend asked me to stay at his place for night , as he and his pop were to visit some relative for two days. I had stayed at his place many times and didn’t think much about it. But suddenly hot possibilities looked possible. I have never had full sex with any girl, and was jerking of most of time as a horny teenager would.



As evening fell, I reached and rang bell. My friend along with is pop have already left. She was wearing a short gown and smiled widely at me. She took me to her bedroom and asked me to take bath and get ready for dinner.



I went in the washroom and took my cloth off. There was this full length mirror which bounced back my nude image. I have never seen my self nude in such a big mirror and was amused to see my erect tool from various angles.



I started to stroke my dick as image of her thighs hit my senses with erotic images. I could hear her humming and moving around out side. I saw her panties hanging and put one to my nose. I had never done that before and my tool jerked wildly as smell of her pussy got in …I started to stroke while smelling her panty and even licked it.



Suddenly I heard few claps. I opened my eyes to see her standing behind me with lusty glazed look on her sexy face. I stopped stroking. She told me to take is easy as a boy of my age must jerk off to stay sane.



She started to massage my back and got very close to me. For me it was a long held dream coming true. I was told to take bath fast as she had a surprise waiting for me.



When I got out sheepishly she has laid the table. I was pulled to sit next to her and faint smell of scent was making me dreamy.



Dinner over, we moved to lawn with dimmed shaded lamps. She asked me about how long I have been rubbing myself and have ever been with a girl. Her hand slowly caressed my right thigh. My hand was put on her breasts but I was getting a huge erection and was impatient to unload my boiling semen.



Sensing my urgency, slipped her hand in and dug my hardness out. Her compliments on my thickness and size of sack was open and had effect on me.



Suddenly the spray sprouted and hit her front as scene of semen hit me. I was told not to worry, as my sack seemed full to last whole night.



She led me inside and threw her gown open and ordered me to eat her.



I knelt before her, conjuring up porn images of men and women giving oral sex.



Her smell hit my nose as my nose got close to her.



She had no panties, sighed and pulled my head closer. The smell was new for me and over powering. As seen in porn, I darted my tongue out to touch her bush covered prize. The taste was salty. She moaned and spread legs wider to give more excess. Cupping her hips, I started to lap and got frenzied and felt my tool hardening swiftly. She pressed me closer and I felt spasms going through her body. Her voice turned hoarse and egged me to eat more, pushing her on my hungry mouth. Female pleasure cried were never heard my me, expect on porn and my tool was constrained in my stretched half pant. Suddenly she cried aloud and pulled my hairs wildly.



My mouth was soaked in her sprouting juices. She pushed me harder on to her rubbed her self with urgency .



With a loud throaty scream she stopped.



More juices gushed out, and I drank like a hungry dog.



She slumped on the wide sofa and asked me to remove my cloths. I watched her opening legs wide to expose her hairy vagina. Thick darkened outer lips merged with thick black growth. Her index finger was buried in her hole as she watched me undressed. I was signaled to come near, her eyes were fixed on my erect tool.



She moaned fingering her hole and grabbed my jerky tool. Her mouth opened and gulped my whole length with one push on my butt.



A strange sensation went through me as her tongue lapped the knob and sucked. Saliva dripped on her chin and bouncing boobs. Her fingers worked dexterously, making her butt lift up and down to aid her effort.



Suddenly a spasms of pleasure, broke over me, she sensed it, sucked and lapped feverishly. Her cries were muffled, sucking me.



With an uncontrollable deep throatily cry, I felt a thick string of semen coursing through my shaking, pleasure soaked body to her hot sucking mouth.



I felt dazed and happy.



I have been sucked first time and sucked like hell, by a mature women. She let go of my tool and I slumped near to her. A string of semen emerged from eye of my half hard tool slipping out of her mouth and stuck to her chin. A blob of semen dripped down to her dark nipple. Her eyes were lusty; she guided my hand to exposed vagina. It was bigger than I could ever imagine, pouting thick outer lips, thick black pubic hairs. A small penis looking thing stood out of her vagina. I touched it lightly and she pushed her butt up to increase pressure.



She guided my mouth to her left breast.



It was my first experience of kissing a woman breast and it felt very good. I suckled on nipples and my fingers went down to caress her vagina. Her hand guided me how to do it, and what gave her pleasure.



She asked me to put three fingers in her, with increasing moans and loud pleasure cries.



As my shaking index finger touched her small penis like bud, she let out a shriek and opened her legs wider, thrusting her butt up to grind. My first exposure to soft folds of vaginal intricacies is still imprinted in my mind scape. She asked me to watch her touching herself. I watched transfixed at her delicate manipulations. I was suddenly come to realize that all the large windows were open and curtains were drawn aside. The house was large with shady trees, but any one could have just walked in to watch us. I was going to tell her about it, but she read my mind and told me not to bother, as no one will come. And even if one did, she didn’t care. I was confused and fascinated by her fearlessness and openness. My dick was now rock hard and strings of juice pouring in a thin string. She pulled me near and held my dick close to her mouth. Her tongue leaped out at dick eye to taste juice. I closed my eyes and felt her mouth gulping my dick completely.



The powerful sucking action made my mind go wild and felt wild churning in my balls. She pushed me away suddenly and asked me to put all my fingers in her cunt. I sat down and did as I was told. Slowly all my fingers were feeling her worm, wet, soft tissues. She held my hand started to push it in. I didn’t know it was possible but was amazed to see my palm going in to her cunt,up to knuckles. Now she took control and moved my hand in and out expertly. Her pleasure cries echoed in the large room.



Her black cat come with lifted tail and looked at us.

Please go easy on me, as this is my first story. It wasn’t originally intended to be a Literotica submission, so I understand it isn’t the most cohesive of writings. If people end up liking the basic gist of it, I’ll write more coherent stories in the future.







In my early twenties, I was wondering if it would ever come together. I’d dropped out of college, but had a good desk job that would certainly allow me to provide for a family in the future. Unfortunately, that future wasn’t anywhere in sight. Most of my days were spent crunching numbers and pushing paper, and my nights were spent wondering how my friends could still be so excited for beer pong and trivia night.



I was losing touch with my friends interests, and as a consequence, losing the common interests I might have shared with most girls my age. Dressing in slacks and collared shirts seemed to put a damper on that too. At 6’3 with long dark hair and a defensive lineman’s frame, work clothes tended to make me look…well uncomfortable all the time.



Perhaps it was loneliness, perhaps it was just the thing to do in 2006, but either way, I was there. Looking online for Mrs. Right.



What about her?



Too blonde.



What about her?



She’s a smoker. I don’t smoke anymore.



What about her?



She likes…NICKLEBACK…



What about her?



She was never going to be Mrs. Right.



Never.



She was twice my age, and almost certainly wouldn’t be interested in having kids for the first time in her mid-40s. But perhaps, at the very least, she could provide some insight to what girls my age might want. At the very least, she’d be some fun company, and some quirky, but still respectable arm candy. She had short, brown hair and thick glasses, but she also had a very warm smile, lovely green eyes, and some pretty dangerous curves.



After exchanging messages, we went out to dinner, then went to the beach just to hang out and talk. Her outfit choice of a t-shirt, cardigan, and modest skirt led me to believe she had no idea what kind of brick house figure was floating under all of that cotton. Thank God I played it casual with jeans and a collared shirt.



It turned out she was dating an older guy, but it was a long distance type of thing, and according to her, he’d been looking to take a break for a while.



I’m a good guy…but even good guys (perhaps especially good guys) deserve to get laid once in a while. I put my good guy hat aside, and took that piece of info as my cue to start laying the groundwork for hooking up.



I asked her what her thoughts were on her and her man’s break. She said it made her sad, because she thought they could have kept it going until one of them was ready to move (they both worked in similar fields, but were working on long term projects), and they were going to stay friends. I told her that I understood, as I’d done both the long distance thing and the ambiguous long term status thing, but to look on the bright side. Even if nothing worked out, when she talked to him next time, she could make him jealous by saying she’d gone out with someone half their age.



She said “Well there are bright sides too. You get to meet new people, pretend you’re a twenty something and date again. Plus, you know, the bedroom stuff.”



“Bedroom stuff?”



“You’re just gonna make me come out and say it, aren’t you? When guys get older…some of them…and they mean well, but some can’t get as…you know…hard as they used to. Or…you know…for as long.”



I answered back “Oh, haha. Yeah, I forgot about that. Well, younger guys, we have issues too. Sometimes we get a little too excited and things…you know…end sooner than they need to. We haven’t exactly learned to take our time, and sometimes it could be over in like five or ten minutes. Then afterward you can’t really ask for a do over.”



“Five minutes? Man…I miss five minutes. And a do over? Sign me up.”



It seemed as though the plan would be a go. I certainly wasn’t out to use this poor girl as a one night stand, but I’ll be damned if I was gonna miss out on this experience. If the connection was bad, she’d know. There wasn’t anything in our conversation over dinner or afterward that led me to believe she wasn’t realistic. We could both try it, and if we didn’t like it, go our separate ways. But if it was good for both of us, that pussy was going to get a workout it hadn’t seen in years.



I put on the adorable eyes and she asked if she could kiss me. I kissed her softly, then backed away.



“Why did you back away? That was fun.”



Perfect set up.



“This is embarrassing…but I’m…kinda hard, and I didn’t want to come off like I was reading too much into you kissing me…”



And thus, the flood gates were open.



She became a flustered school girl, like she had discovered sexual contact for the first time and didn’t give a shit who knew she was out to get some dick that night.



She kept kissing me and making self justifying excuses about why she was doing what she was doing. They must have been for herself, because she knew I really could care less. Or maybe she was just giving me boner fodder, as though I had whispered the slut out of her.



We drove to the drug store and I picked up some condoms, then we went to literally the closest motel to the area, and she got a room.



She asked me to strip and lie back on the bed. So I complied. From there, she straddled me, took off her top, and apologized for having such big low hanging tits. I accepted her apology by sucking on her big round nipples and running my hands all over them.



Next she turned around, pulled up her skirt, pulled down her panties, and apologized for not having a bald pussy like a younger girl. I accepted that apology by leaning forward, taking a deep sniff of her musky bush, and then diving into her muff with a gusto that I can only assume she had never seen before.



It was then that the dirty talk started.



“Fuck yeah. Get my pussy juices all over that face. Lick my dirty little snatch…oooh you’re gonna fuck it good tonight…”



Wow, she’s really into this.



From there she turned back around and said “But on the plus side for you, I do have over twenty years of experience sucking cock. And this is your lucky day, because if there’s anything I love, it’s a mouth full of dick.”



From there she inhaled my cock, slathered my balls with her tongue, then let out the most depraved and hot thing I’d ever heard at that point



“Oh fuck I missed having a cock that could get that fucking hard! I need your hot young cream…shoot that cum all over my face, get it on my tits, I wanna take a fucking SHOWER in your jizz!”



I erupted all over her, and she wiped every last bit from all over her body and sucked it off her fingers like it was blow at a Rick James party.



She talked a big game. How in the world could I respond?



“That’s a good girl eating all that cum. But I think I know what you need.”



A devilish grin came over her face.



“You need some of this young, hard cock.”



Yeah, that sounded good.



“I do…”



“You just need it to get past the entrance to that cute little pussy”



Did that even make sense?



“Just shove it in there…fucking give it to me…”



“You just need that one little bit…then you can let that dirty, kinky little cumslut out.”



I hope this works…



“Mmmmmm…yes…”



“You wanna let her out…and you know she will do anything to get this dick…”



“She will…”



She will?



“Lie back and spread those fucking legs…”



She was more than happy to comply, while never letting her gaze escape mine.



“Show me how fucking horny you are.” I commanded, slowly gaining confidence.



Immediately she started rubbing her clit. Staring at me.



“You can do better than that.”



“I’m still warming up…”



“A dirty little slut like you? You don’t need any warm up.”



“Mmmm, no, not for you baby…not at all…” she lifted up one of her heavy breasts and started sucking on it, making adorable squeaky noises usually heard by sixteen year olds breaking in their hymens.



“You rub that pussy for me.”



“It’s your fucking pussy, baby…”



“Damn fucking straight it is. If I see your little whore ass walking up and down the street, it’s my right to bend you over and fuck you right there.”



Did that come out of me?



“Fucking do it PLEASE!!”







I guess it did.



I slipped on a condom and dove in with reckless abandon. No easing it in. No slow start. She did everything in her power to make sure this was happening, and she deserved to be rewarded.



My role was fairly minimal for a while. All I had to do was pound the fuck out of her as hard as I could for as long as I could. Would I hurt her? Who cares, at this point it’s what she wants, and if it’s not, I don’t think she’d hold it against me. We’d just find a new position and go back to it.



She wrapped her legs around my back and inspiration flowed from her lips



“GIVE ME THAT HARD FUCKING STUD COCK RIGHT FUCKING NOW! POUND THAT PUSSY! MAKE THIS OLD CUNT YOUR PERSONAL FUCK TOY!”



Stud? Who, me? I’m all of six inches rock hard. I’ve only ever slept with a few girls before, none of them where anywhere near this impressed. What kind of mess has my mouth gotten me into?



You’d better not fuck this up.



I become a machine at this point. Not in any flattering way. My job is to be hard and fuck hard and fast. To essentially be a merciless piston providing an endless onslaught to her snatch.



Without warning I stopped and pulled out.



“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT???”



“Shut up and get on your hands and knees.”



She likes this mean thing, right?



“FUCK YES! MAKE THIS BITCH IN HEAT SUFFER!”



I start fucking her from behind, and immediately she starts cumming. She wants to slow down and recover, but she’s not with some old man. In her mind, she’s with a selfish young stud who isn’t stopping until he gets busts his nut.



I keep pounding away and she keeps coming.



“ABUSE THIS FUCKING PUSSY WITH YOUR STUD COCK! FUCK IT RAW!”



I start slapping her ass



“YES! SPANK YOUR BAD LITTLE SLUT!”



The harder I spank the harder she comes. I finally pull out, but before she gets a chance to beg for more, I grab her hair, she turns around onto her back, and I reward her by shoving my cock down her throat. Hard. I almost feel guilty when I break the plane of her throat, but my guilt quickly subsides when her gagging sounds are accompanied by her squeezing my ass to pull it in deeper. I fondle one of her tits, then reach back with my other hand and start slapping her pussy. Giving it a real serious spanking. All she could muster in return was a half defeated, half inspired gutteral scream/moan as she continued to choke on my cock.



I withdraw my dick from her sopping wet mouth. Long strands of drool and wild eyes with wet smeared makeup tell the story of our encounter so far.



She deadpans “I need what’s in that cock and those sweet fucking balls.”



I turn her back over, jam my cock back into her pussy and fuck her wildly for another minute or so before pulling out. She moans and screams for more right away, but suddenly takes a deep breath and becomes silent for the first time in what seems like forever.



I’m not used to this kind of experience. But I’ve already made it this far. She doesn’t know I’m not used to it.



Suddenly, I lose track of what I’m doing, and it becomes very clear, she’s not used to someone rubbing her pussy juices all over her ass. She’s definitely not used to someone forcing their cock up there. She’s most definitely not used to loving it.



I can’t believe I just did that. More importantly, I can’t believe how easy it was.



She starts moaning steadily, then louder and louder. She didn’t expect it to feel this good. But it did. And she needed it.



“FUCK THAT LITTLE SLUT ASS! PLOW THAT ASS YOU FUCKING STUD!”



She didn’t need to tell me twice. Soon she started bouncing that round mature ass up and down. Eventually she figured out just the right angle so that she could make the thrusting happen faster and deeper. I pull my hands away, and from the doggy position, she’s riding my cock like her life depends on it.



“I’M GOING TO FUCKING CUM!! HARDER THAN BEFORE!! WAAAAAAY FUCKING HARDER!!”



For her sake, I scream out “Fuck! I’m gonna cum!”



It’s just what she wants to hear.



“YEEEEEEEEES!!!” She screams, almost peeling the paint as I slap her ass one final time. As she comes for another few seconds, I pull out quickly, flip her over, rip off my condom, then cum all over her once innocent and cute, but now used and degraded face. She loves it. She needed this. She didn’t just get it…she earned it.



———



I got up out of bed. Took a shower without saying a word. I got dressed.



Pick your words carefully…



“Now for your favorite part. I’m leaving. You can sit here covered in cum for as long as you want. You lay here, used and fucked good and hard, and you call me when you need some again.”



She crawled over, licked my cock through my jeans, then rolled over on to her back and said “thank you so much…anytime you want it…please just fucking take it…”



To this day, I have no idea how long she sat there with her ass stretched out, her pussy bright red, and her face and hair covered in my cum. I’m not sure that she does either. One thing I do know…



…she’ll never fucking forget it.



Neither will I.

Chapter 03: End of Summer



Mark’s visit was cheering everyone up. College had been treating him well, but a weekend at home with his family was long overdue. He had shown up Friday evening and planned to stay until Sunday night when he’d make the three hour drive back north to the college.



Saturday afternoon passed quickly as Andrew and his big brother Mark helped their dad finish putting together a storage shed he’d bought earlier that day. Andrew loved building things. Mark always seemed to tolerate these family projects fairly well, but he seemed somewhat detached today.



Andrew inquired as to what was making Mark seem so distant. Mark looked up from his pile of cinder blocks he’d found to sit on while assembling the shed door latch mechanism. Mark paused, as if wondering whether or not he wanted to tell Andrew or not.



“It’s nothing. I’ll tell you about it later.” Mark insisted. Andrew had no choice but to accept this and finish helping his dad.



Soon they were basically finished. Peter, Andrew and Mark’s dad, seemed to find any number of ways to drag a project out past completion. The shed was perfectly assembled. Andrew hauled the last of the packing material off to the trash and it was done. Mark stood on the back patio as Andrew returned to the back yard. The two boys stood and laughed quietly to each other while watching their dad check the level of the shed.



“Come on, dad!” Mark called out to him. “Any flaws will just add character.”



Peter walked away from the shed, towards them. “We’d probably better start thinking about dinner. And of course that means we’d better start thinking about starting the barbecue. You boys should go to the store and pick up some meat.”



Minutes later, Andrew sat in the passenger seat of his dad’s beloved old pickup while Mark drove. The paint was faded, the cabin smelled of untold numbers of pine tree air fresheners; but this truck was a member of the family as much as any family dog could be. Andrew let his hand fly in the warm summer air outside his passenger window as the truck rumbled down the old back road to their favorite shopping center. He could almost touch the tall grass of some of the overgrown spots near the road as they whisked past. This was summer.



The two brothers made more fun out of shopping than most people do out of bowling. It felt great to be back together again like old times. Talk of the town started, with Andrew filling Mark in on all the latest. While choosing a watermelon from the display, Mark changed the topic.



“So I hear you’re working for the Wilsons. Hey, Andrew, speaking of the Wilsons, I’ve gotta confess something to you. You’re not going to like this.”



Andrew played it cool. “What is it? Just tell me.”



Mark picked a large watermelon and spilled the beans for Andrew. “Well, I ran into Stephanie at a party a month ago.”



Andrew’s face was a mixture of shock and awe. “No way…”



“Way.” Mark confirmed. “And well, let’s just say she knows how to party for an old choir girl. I don’t think she’s as churchy as her parents are. We actually made out!”



Andrew managed to mimic a deeply saddened expression and stopped in the middle of the aisle. “Traitor.” He stated simply.



Mark laughed. “Hey, I know she’s your dream girl, but it all just kinda happened before I could think. You can’t blame me, right?”



Andrew laughed too. “No, of course not. Stephanie’s hot.” He grabbed a bag of potato chips and threw them in the cart. “Really though, I’ve more or less forgotten about her. I’m stoked for you, dude.”



Mark seemed surprised. “Really? Well, I guess that was easier than I thought it would be…” He trailed off, glancing at an attractive woman that had walked by moments before. “Seriously though, you don’t mind? I mean, we aren’t going out or anything…”



“There.” Andrew said, punching Mark in the shoulder. “Now I’ve forgotten about the whole thing.”



Mark laughed, seeming to be encouraged by his brother’s good natured response to the news. “Well, the thing is, I am going out with Stephanie’s friend Allie. The two girls are like best friends. Stephanie basically set us up.” Mark turned the shopping cart down the next aisle. “And get this; Stephanie is visiting her parents this coming weekend and offered to pick me up so I could come down too. Allie will be tagging along and staying at the Wilson’s house. Pretty sweet, huh?”



Andrew had to agree that it sounded pretty sweet.



An hour later Andrew sat with his family on the patio, listening to Mark’s stories about his roommates. Mark could make just about anything funny, and pretty soon Martha, their mother, was laughing so hard at one of Mark’s anecdotes that she even began to cry a little. Andrew was glad to have his brother back.



That night, Mark came to Andrew’s room, seeming a bit confused. “Hey, Andrew.” He said just above a whisper. “Did you take my porn stash?”



Andrew had completely forgotten about the duffel bag; the treasure trove of pornographic magazines that nestled secretly under his bed. The bag used to live up in Mark’s closet, but Andrew had taken the liberty of moving it to his room while Mark was gone. Andrew did feel a bit embarrassed.



“Uh… yeah.” Andrew managed after an awkward moment.



“Hey, no problem, bro. I just wanted to make sure mom didn’t find it! I should have given it to you before I left anyway.” Mark said cheerfully. “The power of the pornography lies in your hands now.”



Andrew smiled. “Well, uh, thanks.” He couldn’t stop grinning.



Mark gave him the thumbs up. “See you in the morning. And don’t come to breakfast before washing your hands.” He left, closing the door so Andrew couldn’t get a word in. Classic Mark.



Andrew went back to his reading. It was just as well that Mark wouldn’t know that Andrew hadn’t laid a finger on the old duffel bag in over a week. The charms of that once holiest of holy porn stashes had been superseded by a blistering affair he was having with Mrs. Doreen Wilson; Stephanie’s mom. Andrew doubted that he would ever tell anyone about it, even Mark. It had been over a day since his last meeting with Doreen, and Andrew started thinking about her.



Doreen Wilson was still a bit of a mystery to Andrew. He felt close to her, yet distant at the same time. They shared the most intimate experiences that Andrew could yet imagine, while not really knowing each other.



Andrew finished the chapter he was on and reached up to set the paperback on his nightstand. Clicking off the reading lamp, he was set upon by thoughts of Doreen. Nothing, it seemed, could distract him from their affair. He lay there on his back for a time, pondering. What would happen to him? Where would all of this end? Andrew hadn’t really bothered to consider such things, as the sensation of his relationship with Doreen had been answer enough.



Andrew hadn’t felt especially guilty about any of it, and guilt did not assail him now. Doreen was a grown woman, twice his age. She wouldn’t be taking part in this secret arrangement if she didn’t think it would be good for her, or at least worth the risk. Besides, the risk is part of what made it all so exciting. Andrew had been worried at first, but if confronted on his crime of passion after the fact, he would have answered simply “don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”



Usually, all of this thinking would have lulled Andrew to sleep by now. Andrew recognized the shift in his outlook on the whole situation, and it stirred him from his bed. He sat up in the dark. What did he want? Deeply unsettled, Andrew decided to put his clothes back on and go for a nightly stroll around the neighborhood. He realized that it meant he could walk past the Wilson’s house on the way, but this didn’t really bother him. Maybe that’s all he needed.



Making his way through the old house silently, as only someone who has lived in a certain old house for some time knows how to do, Andrew made it outside. He crept through the side yard, across the front lawn and to the sidewalk beyond. It felt good to be walking. Taking a walk always seemed to clear his head. From somewhere he caught a whiff of cigarette smoke, which he thought must be coming from the window of his neighbor Mr. Langley.



Eventually, Andrew found himself standing within view of the Wilson’s house. There were few lights on but no discernable activity was taking place inside the old house. Andrew wondered if Doreen and her husband, George Wilson, slept together at night. He knew that a lot of couples didn’t; whether because of a snoring problem or some other issue. He thought it was funny how marriage was built upon this time honored tradition, but that marriage itself was anything but standardized. Each couple ended up being as unique as the individuals who comprised them, and still society expected each couple to be the same. Still, the marriage of a couple who were truly happy together, as Andrew’s parents had been, was a special thing. He decided then and there that marriage was worth celebrating, even if we all knew it wouldn’t last forever.



Through all his thinking, though, Andrew could not find similar logic to make heads or tails of his affair with Doreen. In the end, the bond that he had formed with Doreen only made sense in that it was what they both wanted. They had come together, each in a completely different stage of their respective lives. Two separate timelines converging into one unforgettable summer. Andrew saw the beauty in this, and it satisfied him a bit.



The mere thought of confessing his sins to his brother had started Andrew in on this personal reflection. Now, feeling reason settling in his addled mind and sleep tug at his head, Andrew turned his feet towards home.



“Good talk, old friend.” Andrew said quietly to himself, setting off briskly down the sidewalk again. The night seemed even darker than it had before. An owl hooted from the woods off to Andrew’s left, as if to remind him that he should be at home in bed at this hour. Andrew agreed, but he also liked being out at night. Here he could find true solitude. The darkness seemed to nurture unclouded thought.



The next day found Andrew and Mark at the local golf course while their parents did some shopping. Their family had enjoyed brunch, and now Mark was giving Andrew a much needed golf lesson. Mark had worked at the golf course for a few years before he left for college, and he still had a membership. After a few holes, the two boys languished in a remote spot off the fairway of hole 5. They leaned against the golf cart and drank a few beers that Mark had smuggled in. Mark always knew how to make a good time better.



Another cart was making its way down the track. The boys smoothly stashed their bottles out of sight and acted casual. The other cart stopped and the driver waved. It was Mr. George Wilson; Doreen’s husband.



“Hey Mark! Andrew!” Mr. Wilson hopped out and sauntered over to the two boys. “How’s your game?”



Mark answered for them. “It’s alright. Andrew’s getting better, I’ll say that.”



“Well,” Mr. Wilson smiled, “if his game is as good as his yard work, I’m sure he’s doing just fine. Hey Andrew I just wanted to say that you’re really giving that back yard hell, Doreen is really happy with your work.”



Andrew smiled amiably. “Well,” he shrugged. “I try.”



“So Mark,” Mr. Wilson turned his attention to Mark. “I hear you’re riding down with Stephanie this weekend. I don’t know if she told you, but we’re having a barbecue on Saturday. It’ll go all night if we want. I told your parents and everything. Everybody is going to be there.”



The boys assured Mr. Wilson that they would be there. Mr. Wilson spoke with Mark some more before turning back to Andrew. “Andrew, I think Doreen wants you to come by on Friday. I’ll let her know I told you, if that’s OK.”



Andrew agreed to this. Eventually Mr. Wilson bid them good day and hopped back in his cart, whizzing off to his next tee off. The boys took up their beers once again and resumed their sunny summer day. Mark jabbed at Andrew after a while, grinning.



“Dude, here’s your chance. A barbecue at Stephanie’s house. How many of those did we go to as kids? Like, two?” Mark pondered this for a second before continuing. “Allie and I will be busy, I’m sure. You should totally get with Stephanie this weekend. She’s a great girl; I have no doubt you could make it happen.”



Andrew scoffed at the notion and took another sip of his beer. “Yeah? Maybe I will, just to show you how it’s done.”



From then on that day, Mark wouldn’t let up with it; Andrew had to make an honest effort to get with Stephanie at the barbecue. Mark even claimed that he would help out in this endeavor. Andrew was skeptical, but he was game in the end. Mark even said something cryptic to Andrew as he drove away that evening, leaving Andrew standing with his parents in the driveway. His parents looked at him a little confused, but then they were used to the two boys always having an agenda. Andrew took it all in good humor, content to let Mark play his game.



That night, Andrew found it hard to sleep again. He decided that a nightly stroll would do just as well to clear his head as it had the night before.



Stepping out into the night, Andrew was a little excited. This time he more or less walked directly to the Wilson’s house. Once at the corner of Maple and Quail, Andrew could see the Wilson’s house. It was dark except for the porch light. Both cars stood silently in the driveway.



Andrew walked past the house casually until he came to the undeveloped lot that was next door. Around the corner, he stole into the bushes and made his way to the fence that surrounded the Wilson’s back yard. Peeking over the fence, Andrew could see that the kitchen light was on in the back of the house. Andrew knew, from previous experience, that he could easily climb the fence and spy through the window above the kitchen sink. He hauled himself up, careful not to make any noise, and hopped down on the other side of the fence.



Creeping along the back wall, Andrew made it to the window. He was surprised to see Doreen sitting at the kitchen table inside. She was lit by a solitary lamp mounted on the wall. Dressed only in a cotton nightgown, she was the very model of elegant charm. She looked cheerless, her head propped up on her hands, staring down at a glossy magazine. Doreen looked like a woman left in the lurch. On top of the uncompromising need to satisfy his own flesh, he suddenly yearned to save Doreen from an evening of tedium. Andrew sprang into action, and knocked quietly on the back door.



Through the sheer curtains of the French patio doors, Andrew watched as Doreen snapped to attention, gathered herself quickly and made for the door. Her body bobbed and bounced alluringly as she trotted to the door. She didn’t hesitate, as if there were only one person it could be, coming to her rescue at this hour. There she stood, arms holding the door open, the small light shining through her wisp of a gown. Her womanly curves were all but completely exposed to him through the light cloth.



“Oh, Andrew.” Doreen sighed. “Heaven has answered me tonight.”



She seemed to quiver in the cool night air, standing there in the open doorway. Her head went back as she eyed him still, as if about to faint from her yearning. “Thank god.”



There, between her supremely large and thinly clothed breasts hung the cross she always wore. Her ample hips shifted seductively beneath the scanty gown as she branded Andrew’s soul with a look of white hot lust. Andrew took her by the hand, pulled her out the door briskly, and closed it quietly behind her.



Before he had a chance to restrain her, Doreen was off across the yard. Andrew watched her voluptuous body bound off into the deepening darkness and disappear. He heard an impish giggle come from beyond the black, and gave chase. The moon lit his way as his eyes adjusted. Rounding the corner of the small garden shed that stood in the middle of the back yard, Andrew could see Doreen standing in front of him. Lit by the soft white of the moon, her body looked as if it were glowing; the white gown gleamed in the shadows. Andrew slowed to a walk and approached her. She shifted her stance, as if her body was greeting his presence. Her nipples were noticeably erect beneath the fabric of the gown.



He fell to his knees as he embraced her, wrapping his arms about her waist and pressing his face into her. He held her like this for a while, feeling her hand alight upon his head, stroking his hair. He released his hold, and moved his hands down the great curve of her backside. His hands continued until they wrapped around the back of her knees. She gasped and sighed beautifully as he touched this sensitive spot. He squeezed tenderly upwards as he rubbed her hips, raising the fringe of her gown as he did so. When he finally had her naked from the waist down, with her gown gathered about her middle and each of his hands clutching a cool, silky smooth thigh, he plunged his tongue into the darkness between her legs.



There he tasted her precious honey, deep and mysterious. Doreen nearly crumpled atop him in her ecstasy. He let her weight sink into him, drowning in her abandon. As he devoured her, he felt her nectar run down his cheeks. His tongue managed to pierce her insides quite thoroughly. Doreen, losing herself in Andrew’s fervent service, grasped her own breasts as she began to move herself up and down with the motion of his tongue inside her. Her right hand snaked down her body and began to rub her clitoris heavily. With this cocktail of sensations; Andrew’s hands on her legs, tongue inside her and her own fingers lashing at her clit, Doreen came violently. She would have crumpled to the ground if Andrew hadn’t held her fast, easing her body down slowly and carefully. As the woman writhed on the ground in her delirium, Andrew stood and undressed. His penis sprang up from its hiding place inside his pants and snapped upwards, rigid as a piece of solid oak.



“Andrew… oh…” Doreen tossed and contorted her body on the ground, trying to beg. Her breath came so raggedly that she could not manage the words.



Andrew lowered himself upon the stricken woman. She whimpered as he pulled the neck of her gown down across her chest until the neckline ripped, exposing a single, enormous breast. He let her reach down and take his cock in one hand, which she began to pull towards her gushing chamber. He felt the welcoming warmth of her pussy kissing his tip. He could not hold back once she had him pushing inside. His beastly organ slid past the breach in her womanhood and he kept pressing slowly down until he filled her completely.



Doreen bit her lip and clawed at Andrew’s back as he took her slowly and gently. His cock was too large, but she took him as deep as possible, even until the pressure sent a flash of pain through her. It was the intoxicating mix of sensuality and pain that had wormed its way into Doreen’s mind, rendering her an addict since their first encounter. She loved feeling the young man on top of her, his soft skin and hard body heaving back and forth as he fucked her so deep. His back arched and his haunches clenched with each strong thrust. Once Doreen felt herself about to come again, she moved against him, grinding his rock hard flesh against that magical spot within her until it seemed that sunlight washed over her.



Andrew felt her go tense and hold him even closer than before. Her head went back and she moaned while inhaling deeply. “Oh god… my GOD..!”



She growled through her clenched teeth. Andrew could feel her pussy tighten up on him, and he could hold back no longer. He pushed and pushed, stuffing her harder and harder. Her legs wrapped around him and he began to seriously fuck her hard.



“Pound me, yes!” Doreen begged him. “Please come, oh please. It’s too… much!”

His final thrust gorged her completely, as his penis began to throb rapidly. Her chamber was flooded with his semen. She took it all, clutching him lovingly against her, relishing the feeling. They lay there, panting like beasts of burden. Andrew twitched inside of her from time to time, sending little lingering waves of pleasure through her. He was still very hard.



Andrew withdrew from her and watched as his seed flowed freely from her. He stood up, his wilting stamen still glistening with their love. Doreen rose up on her knees, and gulped his softening penis into her mouth. She had trained her throat to take his fiendish girth beyond her gag reflex. He could feel himself sliding down past her tongue and beyond. It was enough to conjure up his lustful desire once again as she set about licking him clean.



“Oh my dear Andrew,” Doreen prayed, licking him devilishly “You don’t seem to be satisfied. Your beautiful manhood is hard again.” She stroked it and looked into his eyes as she said this. “I need you to be satisfied. I need you to take me beyond sin.”



Doreen turned away from him and dropped on all fours. She pulled the skirt of her gown aside, exposing her full, heart shaped rear. “Sodomize me, my love!” Doreen begged softly. “Taste my forbidden fruit.”



Andrew sank down to his knees behind her and reached forward, fondling her ivory breasts. His shaft bobbed against her butt, brushing against the hole she sacrificed to him now. Her nipples were tight as rubber. Her cheeks blushed brightly with passion. Her tongue lashed the air in anticipation of the improper deed. Her satin thighs rubbed against him as she moved back and forth, teasing his penis with her butt. Finally, he gripped his cock with one hand and her waist with the other. He prodded the infernal hole that lay waiting for him, over and over again, threatening to pierce her anus.



“Oh yes. I’m ready, Andrew.” She beckoned him. He pushed a little harder. It seemed that her butt would not allow him entry. It was too tight. He continued pushing, using slow, even pressure. Doreen put her face down into the grass and groaned like a woman possessed. He continued to push, even after it seemed as if he was not getting any deeper inside her.



“Fuck my ass…” Doreen pleaded into the earth. “Fuck my ass like the stud you are. Oh God you’re so good to me.”



He ran his hand up her back and began to rub her neck. She sighed and relaxed slightly. He moved his hand up to her face and let her lick his fingers until they were moist. Andrew began to rub the glistening saliva in a small circle on Doreen’s anus, much to her pleasure. He could feel her body respond, feel the clenched hole relaxing. His forefinger pressing inside, Andrew had gained access to her most sinful chamber. She was ready. He presented the tip of his rock-hard cock to her once again, and pushed. There was a moment when the world seemed to go silent, and then she enveloped him. The two lovers released a sigh of pleasure.



Now Doreen could give Andrew what he had been needing ever since their ménage à trois with Clara. If anything, Andrew’s cock felt even bigger when it was in her butt. Even so, it was sliding in further… and further…



Andrew began to pump her dutifully. It felt good. He pushed deeper. Doreen droned into the ground, begging him to violate her. He was halfway inside her rectum now, and needed to be deeper. He pushed in, feeling her cavity envelop him. It felt good to just be inside, feeling her supple flesh twitching against his shaft. It was so tight. Now he stroked long and deep, even pulling out once or twice, just to sink his cock back into her hungry ass.



“I want this forever!” Doreen cried, abandoning the quiet they had maintained. Andrew reached around to her face and covered her mouth. This only seemed to intensify her arousal, and she began to push back against his thrusts, carrying him deeper and deeper within her. He kept his hand on her mouth, holding her like this as he fucked her ass steadily. Her breasts swayed weightily above the grass as they moved. He could feel the head of his cock butting up against her inner wall, and the sensation made him come suddenly. Doreen cried out against his stifling hand as his cock began to pulsate once again, anointing her rectum with his precious fluid.



Andrew almost couldn’t contain his roar of ecstasy. He hauled Doreen upright with his cock still buried in her ass. He crossed his arms in front of her and squeezed her tits until they turned red. He moved her body up and down with his sudden burst of strength, still thrusting deep inside her. He could feel the slickness of the semen in her, feel it allow him even deeper. Doreen’s eyes rolled back in her head as he took her so hard, so lustfully. She moaned like some poor tortured soul stuck in limbo, drunk with pleasure. He stopped suddenly then, feeling as if maybe he had been too rough in his frenzied lust. He loosened his grip on her and relaxed; his cock still twitching in her.



From there Doreen shifted them so Andrew lay back on the ground. She continued to ride him, her feet planted on the ground on either side of him, steadying herself with her hands on his legs. She pumped her delicious rump up and down on him, pleasuring herself with his slackening penis. She loved this new feeling of sliding up and down on Andrew’s snakelike penis. Andrew watched in amazement as she did this. She turned her head to one side, showing him a leer and a lashing tongue. In the moonlight she looked almost sinister; a demon of lust here to put an eternal curse on him.



As Andrew’s flesh began to relax, Doreen lowered herself completely, holding him inside of her while she rubbed her clitoris with one hand and tugged at her breast with the other. In this way she finished once again, collapsing finally, panting hard. After catching her breath she moved herself off of him, laying, completely exhausted, in the grass to his side. Andrew moved around her on the ground, and held her while they lay basking in the warmth of love.



They lay together in the grass for almost an hour. Then Doreen turned to him and they kissed. Long, slow kisses. Doreen laughed softly as Andrew took hold of her and rolled her on top of him playfully. He held her and kissed her lips, feeling her body respond to this affection. He kissed her neck, her shoulders… then he rolled her back over. She reached down and felt him hard again, ready for another.



“Oh my sweet love, would you give it to me tenderly if you must have me again.”



Andrew spread her knees apart with his, and moved his hips downward so that his cock slid into place at her opening. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him tenderly as he entered her again, arching his back to slide himself inside, inch by inch. He fucked her slowly, gently. He kissed her mouth, let her tongue play upon his. Together they cherished the feeling. She wrapped her legs around him and moved against him, slowly and rhythmically. They rolled to one side, then the other, then with her on top of him. But they did not break their coupling.



“So deep, my love.” Doreen begged. “Fuck me slow and deep, oh yessss…” her masterful breasts bounced and swayed above him in the soft moonlight, entrancing him and keeping him hard inside her. She came again on top of him, throwing her head back and clutching her precious cross. Andrew loved the sight of her in ecstasy. She was so beautiful. He thrust himself into her while she was on top of him, moving his hips upward. With his last ounce of stamina he wrapped his hands around her waist and pumped out another orgasm for himself. Her face was pure joy as she braced herself to take this last pounding.



When Andrew stood up, Doreen cleaned his cock with her breasts and her tongue, making sure to move her cross out of the way first.



When they had finished, Andrew dressed and assured her he would return on Friday. She lounged on the grass and looked up at him, watching him.



“Oh…” She remembered something then. “Before you come, you should call me. Stephanie’s coming.”



“I know,” Andrew assured her. “Mark’s coming this weekend, too.”



Doreen seemed to make a mental note. “Yes, I see.” She smiled up at him. “Just call first, OK?” Andrew took his leave of her, sneaking through the side yard and the gate. He was absolutely exhausted. He plodded straight home, remembering to stay quiet only when he made it inside his house. Upstairs, bed, darkness… sleep.



* * *



Sleep. Andrew slept through breakfast Friday morning. He awoke suddenly and looked at his clock. It was nearly ten! He got dressed, crammed an English muffin in his mouth and set out. Before he could get out the front door his mother called from behind him. “Andrew!” He paused at the sound of her voice. “If you’re headed over there, make sure you ask the Wilsons what we should bring for the barbecue tomorrow!”



Andrew made an affirmative noise through his English muffin and let the screen door shut behind him. As it closed, he heard his mother shout something else, but he ignored her. She was probably just bitching at him for getting up so late…



Andrew was tired. The week had passed slowly, and he had become quite restless. The night before, he was caught in a tortuous state of desire for Doreen. He couldn’t stop thinking about her body long enough to go to sleep. He was too excited by the prospect of seeing her again. Then, when he did fall asleep, Andrew was plagued by strange and very sexual dreams of Doreen. His head was in a fog that morning, and he regretted not grabbing some coffee when he had the chance.



In no time he was on the Wilson’s front porch, about to ring the doorbell. He thought better of it and lowered his hand to the door handle. He pressed the thumb latch and the door opened with a click. Would Doreen be OK with him sneaking in on her? He was late. He doubted she would be upset with him greatly, since he was just having a little fun. He moved inside and closed the door silently. He listened.



There was music coming from the little kitchen radio, and water running somewhere in the house. Andrew prowled down the hallway and peeked into the kitchen. Doreen was not there. He checked the laundry room to the left, past the refrigerator and down a little hallway. Still no Doreen. Then Andrew heard something above him. Doreen was upstairs.



Andrew returned to the front door and listened. He crept up the steps and paused on the landing above. The sounds were coming from the bathroom, or so he thought. He could hear Doreen’s voice. Was she on the phone in Mr. Wilson’s office? Andrew moved nearer to the door to the office; it was open slightly. Andrew looked in and what he saw made his jaw drop.



There was Doreen, bent over the large leather topped desk of George Wilson, talking on the phone with her legs stretched out behind her. She was dressed up, wearing a skirt with her hair done up like it had been the first time they fucked. She wore a white silk shirt and, as evidenced by the lace peaking from beneath her skirt, stockings. She faced away from Andrew, and her considerable, heart shaped rear was so bewitching that he began stroking the growing erection in his pants. But then Andrew realized she was talking about him and it snapped him to attention. It sounded like she was talking to his mother.



“Oh that’s quite OK,” Doreen chirped, “I had planned on having him over today. We might put him to work when he gets here anyway.”



Then, as if reality was still dawning on Andrew, he realized that the sounds of running water he had heard were coming from the bathroom off to his right. Someone was taking a shower! Was Mr. Wilson at home? Andrew began to back away down the hall, realizing he had made a huge mistake. He remembered then that Doreen had asked him to call her…



Then further disaster struck as the front door opened. Andrew nearly leapt out of his skin before flattening himself against the wall, even though he was out of sight. His heart thumped in his chest until he was afraid someone would hear it. George Wilson’s voice called from below, declaring that he was home. Andrew’s mind raced and he remembered the guest room that lay at the opposite side of the landing. He heard Mr. Wilson’s footsteps passing below the landing, leading off into the kitchen. Andrew all but ran down the hall to the guest room door. The door was open slightly, so Andrew left it that way once he was inside and safely hidden in the largely disused bedroom. He sat on the bed for a moment, trying to calm himself. He had no idea how long he would have to hide there.



Then, a girl’s voice cut through the roaring turmoil in his head. Stephanie was calling to her mother out in the hallway. Andrew stood up and looked through the gap in the door. He could see straight down the hall, back the way he had come. Stephanie was there. She stood, hair still wet from the shower, wrapped in a towel. The light from the bathroom bathed her young flesh in a golden light, making her look extremely beautiful. Her legs were so lithe, so graced with subtle and alluring curvature. Though Andrew was lost in his world of newfound trouble, he wondered what it would be like to touch those heavenly legs. Stephanie leaned on the door frame of the office, speaking to her mother within. Doreen emerged, and the two of them went into the bathroom, debating something that Andrew could not discern.



What would Andrew do? Could he make it to the front door now? He could not tell where Mr. Wilson was. Andrew retreated to the opposite side of the large guest bed and crouched there. He could still see out the door slightly. He waited, watched and listened.



Eventually Andrew figured out that Doreen was leaving. He could hear voices and commotion, but he could not interpret all of it. Doreen had gone downstairs. Stephanie had gone to her room. Mr. Wilson was talking to Doreen downstairs. Finally, Andrew heard Doreen call out to George before she closed the front door behind her. “George!” Doreen shouted. “If Andrew comes by, just tell him we’ll see him tomorrow, please! I’ll be back in an hour or two.”



Mr. Wilson called out in agreement from the kitchen and then the front door closed. For a long time everything was silent. The silence continued until Andrew thought that now could be his chance to escape. Mr. Wilson was probably out back and Stephanie was still in her room, or so Andrew thought. He was about to open the door and dash down the hall when his heart jumped up into his throat yet again. Stephanie was out there on the landing. Andrew froze.



Stephanie stood there, leaning on the railing that overlooked the foyer below. She wore athletic socks that came to her knees, very short cut off jeans and a tight white t shirt. Andrew had not heard her emerge from her room and walk out onto the landing. She just stood there, looking down. Andrew couldn’t see her face, as it was veiled by her very stylish and very blonde hair. Her body was an absolute idol; Andrew was in complete awe. Her slender waist, exquisite on its own, only served to accentuate the swell of her impossibly perky breasts and the rounded curve of her backside. She was such a comely, blossoming girl that Andrew knew all the boys at the college were after her. She could have any man she wanted. This only made what happened next completely and utterly confounding to Andrew.



“Daddy…” Stephanie called down with a smile in her voice. “Daddy?”



She waited, listening. No reply was heard.



Stephanie was holding something in her hand. It was a small porcelain figurine, the shape of which Andrew could not see. She held it out beyond the railing of the landing and released it, letting the tiny white figure fall to the tiled floor below. It landed with a soft tinkling crash that surprised Andrew. This puzzle was turning over and over in Andrew’s mind when the sound of footsteps came from downstairs. Mr. Wilson had walked from the kitchen out into the entryway.



“Young lady, you had better come down here and clean that up this instant!” Mr. Wilson demanded. Stephanie stood up straight and said nothing. Mr. Wilson continued.



“If you don’t get down here now, I am going to get VERY mad at you. Do you understand me?”



Stephanie actually crossed her arms in defiance like a little girl. “No.” She said simply.



“That’s it. You’re going to be punished.” George Wilson said, climbing the stairs.



Andrew felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His body was frozen, immobile. Mr. Wilson’s head came into view as the man marched up the stairs like some kind of monster. The image of Mr. Wilson so angry struck fear in Andrew. He realized then that this is what he had feared for a long time: Mr. Wilson’s wrath. Fortunately for Andrew, Mr. Wilson had no idea that the boy crouched in his guest room, only a few meters away.



Mr. Wilson grabbed Stephanie by the wrist and pulled her forcefully down the hall to his office. Andrew watched as Stephanie was dragged through the door and out of sight. He heard Stephanie begin to whimper a little, and then all was silent again. The silence was almost more alarming than anything Andrew could have heard at that point. Then it came. A sharp, rhythmic slapping sound, piercing the silence like a needle. Mr. Wilson was spanking her!



Andrew rose from his crouch and left the room, being sure to leave the door as it was. He slinked down the hall slowly and in absolute silence. Before long he stood outside the office door, peering cautiously inside. Once again he was stirred by what he saw inside that office, but this time he was more disturbed than anything else. Mr. Wilson had Stephanie bent over the desk with her shorts pulled down and her bare butt turning pink from his relentless spanking. Every five seconds or so he would let fly with his hand, landing a sharp swat on one of her upturned buttocks. Stephanie tossed her head back, grimacing a little with each strike, her hands clenched together under her breasts. Mr. Wilson showed no expression whatsoever. Indeed, he stared Stephanie up and down blankly, as if he felt nothing at all in what he was doing. Stephanie’s whimpering continued, rising in its intensity little by little.



It didn’t appear that they were enjoying these theatrics, but Andrew knew that they must be. He was witnessing a dirty little secret between father and daughter. Somewhere along the line Mr. Wilson had developed a taste for punishing his only daughter. Stephanie must enjoy it too, otherwise she would not have provoked him on purpose. Andrew watched for a few moments past what he deemed was too long, and snuck back down the hall and down the stairs at last.



He decided against the front door and ducked through the kitchen. Outside, he tore across the back yard and leapt at the fence on the far side, hauling himself over and into the vacant lot where he fell bodily. He lay there among the underbrush trying to catch his breath and come to grips with what he’d just seen. He wondered if Doreen knew about this charade between her husband and daughter. Andrew collected himself, brushed himself off and made his way through the vacant lot until he came out the other side. From there he decided to take the long way home.



Andrew returned home and informed his parents that he was mistaken in going to the Wilson’s that day. They seemed to think nothing of it, which was of tremendous relief to Andrew. Mark was not home yet. Andrew didn’t know what was going on. Andrew upstairs and showered. Under the hot water, he found that he could bare the tension no longer. His need had become far too great. His relief was long overdue. He sat back against the wall of the tub, away from the spray from the shower. He lathered up his balls, watching his penis growing. He ran his hand up and down the shaft, squeezing slightly. It felt good. He slid his hand over the head of his penis, stimulating the tip, but this was almost too much. He used the lather to let his hand glide up and down all nine inches. Softly, gently, he let the feeling wash over him. He closed his eyes and imagined that Doreen was massaging his cock, touching him with her naked breasts. He wanted them more than anything. He erupted like a volcano all over the green bath tiles, breathing heavily.

That night, Andrew was plagued by strange dreams of Mr. Wilson and Stephanie. He was running and running through the Wilson’s house but couldn’t find an exit. When Andrew awoke at midnight he was tremendously relieved that it was all just a dream. Well, most of it anyway. Once again he thanked his lucky stars that he had made it out of that house undetected.



The next morning Andrew slept in until Mark stormed in on him. “Get up, dude! We’re having fuckin’ pancakes!” Mark shouted. Andrew could hear his parents laughing downstairs. “Get up!” Mark yelled, storming out again.



“Good morning, Mark.” Andrew said, winking in the sunlight.



At breakfast, Mark told his parents all about Allie, who was waiting to meet them at the Wilson’s. Everyone seemed excited about the party at the Wilson’s. Andrew ate and said very little. He could not stop thinking about how strange his situation had become. Stephanie must have returned alone the day before. This change of plans was, of course, not brought to Andrew’s attention.



That day Andrew couldn’t seem to find anything to keep his attention for very long. Eventually they all walked together over to the Wilson’s for the party, noodle salad and beer in tow. A few other families from the neighborhood were already there. The Wilsons had set up their house to cater to many guests, as a lot of people were expected to show.



When everyone seemed to be set up with drinks and company, Andrew found himself in the kitchen, fetching something for Mr. Wilson who was manning the barbecue grill on the patio outside. Stephanie wandered through, stopping at a bowl of chips to grab one. She was wearing shorts and a little red shirt. She said “Hello” to Andrew and continued outside. Andrew forgot to reply, but it didn’t seem to matter.



Andrew looked out the kitchen window at the scene outside. Everyone was milling around the yard, admiring the flowers. Much of what they saw was Andrew’s handiwork. Doreen was out by some roses talking to a man from Mr. Wilson’s office. She wore white pants and a billowy white shirt that almost hid the size and shape of her breasts, but not quite. She looked happy.



To Andrew’s surprise, Clara arrived at the party an hour later. Clara greeted him and said it was nice to see him again before moving on to other guests. Clara wore a rather low cut, gray cotton sweater and tight jeans. She looked incredibly good. Andrew caught himself watching her and went back to turning burgers on the grill. He had been enlisted to work the barbecue for a while.



After a while, Mark approached Andrew for another burger. “Hey man,” Mark said quietly, “We’re gonna go over to our house and start a fire in the backyard. This party is getting a little forty-something for my tastes.”



Andrew told Mark that he would be over after he was done eating.



“Alright,” Mark said with a snicker, “we snagged some beer, so don’t worry about smuggling any.”



Andrew walked through the garden after Mark left. He received some praise from friends and neighbors who were impressed with his landscaping work. Darla, a blonde woman from the neighborhood told Andrew that she would love to have him work for her. Andrew laughed and told her he wasn’t cheap. Doreen put an arm around Andrew and laughed, “Hey!” Doreen joked. “You find your own hunky landscaper!” This made everyone laugh. The wine was really flowing now…



Andrew found it easy to break away. The party was pretty uproarious. The house was loud with music and a few groups locked in conversation. Andrew ducked through the side yard and made for the gate there. He heard a hiss behind him and turned around. Clara had seen him leaving and followed him. She stopped hurrying when he stopped and waited for her. She moved close to him and looked up into his eyes, holding her glass of wine between them.



She simply stared up into his eyes and took a sip of her wine. Her eyes said it all. Her eyes told Andrew exactly what she wanted him to do to her.



“Andrew,” she said, her voice low and seductive, “I’m staying here tonight. In the guest room. I want you to come and see me.”



Andrew simply nodded, looking down.



“Hey…” Clara reached up and brushed his cheek with her silken hand. “What’s wrong?”



“Nothing.” Andrew said. “I’d love to see you again.” He looked down at her outrageous cleavage. “I really would.”



“Doreen promised that I could have you all to myself this time.” Clara ran her finger down his chest and looked him straight in the eye with those deep blues, “I’ll swallow all the evidence.”



Andrew watched her walk away, wanting to take her right there in the seclusion of the side yard. Her ass was magic in those jeans. He closed the gate behind him and walked back to his house, trying to calm the arousal that Clara had instilled in him before he got there.



When he arrived at home, Andrew found Stephanie alone in the kitchen. She was trying to open a bottle of chardonnay that must have come from the party. Andrew greeted her. She smiled.



“Where’s Mark?” Andrew asked, looking around.



“Mark and Allie are outside,” Stephanie said, pulling the cork from the bottle she was opening. “I think they’re trying to make a fire.”



She picked up a few plastic party cups and the opened bottle and headed for the back door. She stopped and turned back to Andrew when he didn’t follow. He merely stared at her.



“Well c’mon, silly.” Stephanie smiled at him and stepped out.



Outside, Mark and Allie were laughing and sharing a lawn chair next to the fire. Allie was a beautiful black girl with long hair and big, gorgeous eyes. Stephanie had seated herself across the little fire pit and was pouring a cup of wine for Allie. Mark looked up when Andrew appeared and held out a beer to him.



“Here Andrew! Gotcha a cold one right here.”



The four of them sat and talked for an hour or so, drinking and laughing all the while. Stephanie turned her attention to Andrew when Mark and Allie started to focus on each other. She asked him about his work for her parents. Andrew asked her about school. Eventually the two of them were left alone by the fire, as Mark and Allie had gone inside to look for drinks.



After ten minutes of talking and waiting for Mark and Allie to return, Stephanie laughed suddenly. “Well,” she said, grinning, “I don’t know what those two are up to but I’m sure it has nothing to do with bringing us drinks.” She gave Andrew a suggestive look.



Andrew laughed at this. “If I know my brother like I think I do, we are going to be waiting for a while.”



Stephanie looked around. “Let’s go back to the party. They’re probably wondering where we took off to by now.” She stood and stretched, her beautiful curvature highlighted by the firelight. Her breasts seemed larger than Andrew remembered. Nothing like her mother’s enormous rack, but every bit as enticing.



Andrew and Stephanie left Mark and Allie behind and walked back to the party. They continued talking, and Stephanie explained to Andrew that the next day Mark and Allie had planned on going to see a movie together. Stephanie asked Andrew if he would join her so she wouldn’t be a third wheel. Andrew agreed to this and smiled. Had Stephanie Wilson just asked him out? They continued to walk back to Stephanie’s house. Andrew caught Stephanie smiling too.



Back at the party, things were winding down. It seemed that nearly half the people had already left. Mr. Wilson was entertaining a large group of men, all lounging on or near the patio. Some smoked cigars and all held glasses of whiskey. Andrew’s dad was among them, sipping his drink and talking to Mr. Wilson. Clara was among the men, holding the attention of at least three of them. She caught Andrew looking over at her as he walked past and her eyes lit up.



Eventually the party was nothing more than two groups of people holding two separate conversations. Garden torches sent golden light playing on the faces of the remaining guests. The music was turned down low. The last cigar sat smoldering in its ashtray. Andrew’s parents were leaving, saying their goodbyes and carrying their empty salad bowl. Andrew rose to leave, and noticed that Mark was suddenly by his side.



“Great party.” Mark said, as if he’d been there all this time. “We should be going.”



Andrew grinned and patted his brother on the back. The two boys followed their parents, walking slowly back to the house. Allie waved to Mark from the Wilson’s front porch, where she sat with Stephanie.



“Well,” Mark asked quietly after they were out of range, “How did it go with Stephanie?”



Andrew smiled. “She asked me to join you guys tomorrow.”



“And you didn’t screw it up! I knew I could count on you.” Mark said cheerfully.



Andrew looked up at the darkening sky. “We’ll see what happens.”



The sun went down then, leaving the neighborhood in shadows.



At around midnight, Andrew left his house once again. It was dark and quiet. Before long he stood in the empty lot, peering over the Wilson’s backyard fence. He vaulted the fence with a single, practiced leap and landed as quietly as he could on the other side. The moon began to rise above the tree line, partially lighting Andrew’s way.



There was a small amount of light coming from the kitchen window, but otherwise the house looked dark. Andrew walked to the back door and looked inside. No one was present. He tried the back door latch and it opened. He slid inside and shut the door. Inside, he crept carefully through the kitchen, making sure not to make noise on the tiled floors. Then, a small noise came from above. Andrew heard a door open, and footsteps. Someone was coming downstairs. Quickly, Andrew ducked through the kitchen and down the short hallway to the laundry room. There he hid himself from view and waited.



The kitchen light came on and Stephanie stepped in from the hallway. She wore only white panties and a tank top. Andrew watched her breasts bounce with each step she took. She went to the fridge and out of Andrew’s sight. Then, Andrew’s mind went blank with fear as Stephanie flipped the switch behind the fridge that lit the laundry room. Andrew stood as still as he could against the windows on the far wall and watched with horror as Stephanie walked into the laundry room and opened the dryer.



She stopped.



She turned.



Andrew stood there, aghast. Stephanie reeled in surprise and covered her mouth to stifle the gasp that came involuntarily. Once her mind’s eye cleared, Stephanie could see that the intruder was Andrew himself. She was still in shock.



“Andrew!” Stephanie said, heaving “you scared the SHIT out of me! What are you doing here..?”



Andrew was shaken, but the knowledge of his impending doom sent a strange calm over him. The worst had happened. He had been careless and now he would need to confess. Then it dawned on him: there was a way out for him.



“Stephanie, listen.” Andrew began, covering his eyes in a gesture of shame.”I’m here for Clara. We were planning on meeting each other tonight. Here. In your house.”



Stephanie looked incredulously at him for a moment, and then the information began to sink in.



“Oh. I see.” Stephanie said. She looked embarrassed.



“I’m sorry.” Andrew said simply. He was.



“No, it’s OK.” Stephanie assured him. “I’m still a little freaked out, that’s all. You scared me so bad.”



Andrew relaxed a bit. They stood there awkwardly for a moment. Andrew couldn’t help himself as he looked down to see her perfect breasts. Her pink nipples were visible through the cloth of her tank top. He watched as they became erect before his eyes.



“Well,” Stephanie grabbed a hamper. “Allie got drunk and spilled a drink all over herself, so I’m just getting her clean clothes for her. Don’t mind me.” She grinned at him, melting Andrew’s frozen blood.



Stephanie bent over to pull the clothes from the dryer. Her panties went taught across the twin bubbles of her perfect ass as she bent down. Andrew’s blood went up again, and he moved forward, knowing then what he needed to do. He reached out with his right hand and spanked her firmly on her vulnerable ass. She dropped the clothing and gripped the edge of the dryer. She gasped.



“Oh god…” She squeezed her eyes shut and begged pathetically, “Please don’t… please don’t STOP.”



Andrew spanked her again, harder this time. She was silent now. She merely stayed in position, awaiting the next delicious sting on her backside. But Andrew held back.



“Now.” Andrew told her quietly, yet firmly. “You will go to your room and forget you saw me. Do you understand?”



Stephanie stayed silent, gripping the edge of the dryer and holding her breath in anticipation. Andrew slapped her ass again, even harder now.



“YES…” Stephanie exhaled, trying to keep her voice quiet. She opened her eyes and began to collect the laundry. She picked up her hamper and exited, turning the light off as she went.



Andrew waited in the darkness for a minute, listening. Stephanie was back in her room, and the house was more or less silent. He trembled.



Andrew snuck up the stairs to the landing and listened. He could hear nothing but the beating of his own heart. He walked to the guest room door and put his hand on the knob. He was shaking. He was so aroused now that his head was actually swimming. He opened the door.



There, bathed in moonlight streaming through the window, Clara lay on the large satin bedspread. Her extravagant curvature graced the great, shining cushion like a hedonistic statue. Andrew closed the door behind him and walked forward. Clara rose up from the bed and walked around it to the nightstand with the movement of a dancer. There, a flame leapt up from a lighter in her hand as she lit a candle. With that she lit another and another. Her skin was still like ivory in the candlelight, but now it was tinted with gold.



Andrew stripped quickly and began to crawl across the bed towards Clara. Her large but perfect breasts stood like irresistible forbidden fruit, of which Andrew had to taste or he would surely die. She backed against the wall, as if his intense desire frightened her. He stood and towered over the woman. His penis thrust into the air between them like a piece of chiseled granite. He took Clara by her arms and spun, casting her onto the bed wildly. She pulled herself to the center of the bed and turned to face him, lying on her back, awaiting his onslaught.



Andrew moved in and began to squeeze her breasts adoringly. They were absolutely stunning. She smiled and watched him work, watched his eyes glaze over in his idolatry of her body. Then he started to feed on her nipples. She felt his hot, red cock resting on her leg as he gorged fanatically on her nipples. He sucked with all his might, biting and pulling at the hard nipples with his mouth. He squeezed her tits together, rolling them in his hands.



This went on for quite some time, until at last her milk began to stream from her, seeping from her nipples in warm little mouthfuls. She sighed with pleasure as the liquid ran down her tits and across her stomach. Andrew lapped up what he could, fascinated by this new pleasure. Her body was giving him all it could. Complete surrender.



Andrew rose to his knees and straddled his lover’s body. Clara grasped her breasts and pulled them apart, letting his cock fall heavily onto her moist chest. Pressing her ivory orbs together around his penis, Clara let the boy run his shaft between them. She smiled openly as his penis ran in between her tits and up her neck. She could feel the texture of his cock against her, rubbing her with increasing vigor. She dipped her head and licked the tip of his cock as it flashed towards her mouth. She tasted the salt of his fluid that dripped early from him. Andrew fucked Clara’s tits harder and harder.



Then he stopped, breathless. Andrew’s cock throbbed, buried in her bosom. He nearly came then, he was so close. Clara sensed his sensitive moment and froze, letting him ease down on his own. She released her tits and he disengaged from her, moving to kneel at the foot of the bed. Clara rose onto all fours and watched him. Andrew tried to breathe evenly and calm down a little. He knew she needed him to finish inside her. He wanted to give that to her.



She turned to him and moved her rump towards him. Andrew took his penis and angled it into her pussy, knowing that he must fuck her now or it would just erupt from him. He entered her, and suddenly she lost heart. She sprang forward to escape him, pitching face first into the pillows. Her fleshy butt bounced delightfully as she plunged onto the bed. He pursued her, laying between her spread legs and entering her again. He slid inside her wet and wanting pussy and thrust his hips forward. Clara hugged the bedding towards her face, screaming into the pillows.



He fucked her hard and deep from behind. Clara wailed into her pillows, feeling her insides stretching as Andrew’s equine sex organ pierced her fully. It took no more than a dozen thrusts to finish him off. Clara felt him only go deeper as the slippery mass of cum filled her, allowing his tip to reach the final wall of her womb. He went stiff above her, and she felt his strong arms wrap around her in his moment of unrestraint. He came inside her as tears of pleasure ran from her eyes. His hardness moved within her mightily as he held her, giving her every drop.



Clara had no idea how many times she came. Since he entered her it was just one long, hot orgasm, or so it seemed. She went limp, felt him slipping out of her, and fell into a blissful pit of emptiness.



Andrew lay on the bed, drained of any care. He lay there for an hour or so, falling in and out of consciousness. In his slumber, he did not notice the door open. Nor did he notice when Doreen wafted into the room in a white silk robe to stand at the foot of the bed and gaze at his body longingly for a long time.



When he finally rose from the bed, he looked to the nightstand covered in candles. There, laying like a coiled serpent, was the chain that bore the gold cross that Clara wore. He blew out the candles, threw a blanket over Clara’s body and kissed her. She stirred slightly but did not wake. Andrew dressed and left Clara to sleep.



* * * *



The next day, Andrew and Mark waited for the girls to arrive at the local theater. It was about three ‘o’ clock. The girls parked and hopped out, wearing summer dresses and hats. The four of them greeted each other. Mark and Allie with a hug and a kiss, Andrew and Stephanie with a smile and a nod. It was determined that everyone was hungry, so they took a booth at the local pizza place.



Mark and Allie both got up to go to the bathroom, giving Andrew a moment alone with Stephanie. Stephanie looked at him with sad eyes.



“What’s wrong?” Andrew begged, reaching out and taking her hand quickly.



Stephanie stared at him. “I think I want to spend more time alone with you, Andrew. I don’t know what else to say.”



Andrew felt relieved. “Well, that’s fine with me.” He smiled.



“Really? I thought you might not want to. I didn’t know if you were interested or not. Your brother said-”



“My brother doesn’t know everything about me.” Andrew cut in. “The fact is, I’d like to spend more time with you, too.”



Stephanie smiled, a small, meaningful smile.



The others returned and drinks were ordered. Mark started poring over the menu. Andrew looked up at Stephanie again, and noticed she wore a gold chain around her neck.



The chain ran down into the recesses of her dress, but Andrew knew what hung from that chain. Warmed by the touch of her skin, nestling between her beautiful breasts; there lay a golden cross. Andrew also knew that it was Doreen’s cross, and that she had given it to her daughter as a signal to Andrew.



“Nice necklace.” Andrew said simply.



Stephanie looked up, her beautiful blue eyes wide with the reception of the compliment. She pulled the chain out from her dress, revealing the cross.

The chain link fence that had served as the border between his and Jean’s yard seemed a lot shorter than it used to. Since he had been 12 he had taken care of her children, well a lot of the neighborhood kids after school till their parent got home. And maybe Jean knew of the affect which she had on him. Well granted not to the degree of perversion. For example she was probably was not aware how he had arranged the growth of vegetation on the fence so that a line of sight was clear from his window to her garden. Where she would in the hot days of summer kneel in her cut offs to tend the vegetables as he had watched on. She was probably unaware as well how he had twisted the blind in the bathroom ever so slightly or raised the curtain just enough in the bedroom that when he would leap that very fence in the dark of night he was given access to her as she bathed, as she wrestled beneath the sheets, with her husband or with the toy that he had found early on in his lust with her in her bedroom drawer.



If she was aware of the volume of hours he had spent on her in his mind she might have been flattered, she should have been flattered. Hers was not an above average beauty, Here five foot nine frame was one that clearly had born four children and worked long hours as a nurse with little time for the gym or other maintenance. It was not that she was fat, it was just that she was a woman, a middle aged woman with short dark curly hair she permed so she would not have to pay extra attention to. Perhaps it was because of her nondescript nature that she found some of the things he did, well surprising.



As a daily guest in their house, a friend and caretaker or her children after school while she and her husband worked, she grew accustomed to him being there. Almost more accustomed to him than to her frequently absent husband. So accustomed in fact that sometimes things in her mind sort of slipped, particularly when he and her husband were both in the house.



She blamed herself for the incident that started their slide. Sure there were times she had caught him staring at her breasts, her ass, he was a teenage boy. There were times that his foot would wander up against her leg under the table during a game of Risk. There were times when she took a little too much pleasure in teasing him about girls. He was a teenage boy, she found it funny, flattering. The event in question however was singular in comparison to these moments. She had been carrying on a conversation with her husband over the counter while he watched TV and she busied herself with the preparation of supper. It had quickly devolved into the usual, “yeah” and “uh hu” responses, so silence had quickly settled in and she devoted her full attention to the carrots in the sink.



Having finished with the kids in the yard Ted had entered the house quietly through the garage to let them know he was taking off for the evening. When Jean had come home she found her husband had already found the TV and his chair instead of supper so she quickly slipped on her short housecoat to start supper before she finished changing. The sound of neighborhood disputes in the backyard drifted in the kitchen window while her thoughts drifted off catching the back of Larry’s head out of the corner of her eye while moving rhythmically in front of the sink.



Not believing his eyes out of his mind as he watched her shift the weight from one foot to another. He could hear Larry’s soaps on TV and decided that a quiet entry was best. It was always best not to talk to Larry, Larry was an asshole. He leaned back against the table for a moment, watching the fabric sway across Jean’s ass. He did not have to imagine what was just above the line of the terrycloth as it rode up teasing him. He had watched that ass in cutoffs in the garden, he had probably run the underwear she was wearing through his fingers, over his hard dick when they were not home. The round cheeks he had watched in the shower. Once when Larry fell asleep in front of his soaps he had watched her spread out on her bed, ass stuck up in the air, the corner of the pillow in her teeth. It was a fear that something might change and snatch this moment from him that sent him from the table while her stare was on the window. It was something about her stare that made him wish that she was looking for him in the backyard as she grinded against the sink. He spotted his glass on the counter right way. The rule was simple and strictly enforced. Dirty dishes were supposed to go by the sink. And though he sometimes enjoyed the lecture because she could be a close talker when she was angry, this was better.



Jean’s stare drifted from the window to the TV to the absence of the balding back of Larry’s head when she felt the footsteps behind her. Maybe it was the young doctor who had visited at work that day, maybe it was that it had been that Larry had not pinned her ankles behind her ears in over two months. No matter what it was the footsteps moved through the floor, up her legs. She stopped shifting her weight and dug her heals in without breaking the sway so she could feel it better. She was looking at the back of the lazy boy when she felt the warmth and the pressure as the glass clinked down beside her and an arm withdrew along her hip. It was instinctive, she stepped back to meet the man behind her. Leading with her ass then pressing off the sink with her hands. She had expected him to be farther behind him as her shoulders pressed back against his ribs, as the top of her ass rubbed back against a hard dick in jeans. She had expected him to be shorter, she had expected him to be Larry. Larry who having now had slid further down in his seat had his feet showing. It was everything. Everything he ever wanted had dreamed about. As she leaned backwards into him he stole a glimpse past her closed eyes at the full hanging breasts being restrained ever so slightly by the robe while her ass slid the length of his hard dick. Then his mind racing, his senses flooding he pulled away and beat a fast retreat to the back door.



It was different after that, there was a malice of forethought now. There were no innocent brushes. He realized every one of his “blunders” as just what they were, calculated advances. And they were no less frequent, he could not help but think there were times she intentionally tried to stay away from him. And there were other times as well. It was nine months since they had paused as they brushed against each other when they met at the door. Her body passing closely, awkwardly her polyester nurses uniform turning against him. It had been nine months since he had last seen her. His freshman year seemed like a blur, his cherry popped, god bless drunk girls with experience who decided they need to be sex educators, things were different. He leaped the fence with one bound fueled my all those months of fantasies.



He had opened Jean’s door a thousand times, knocking as he opened it and calling out to announce his presence. Today no answer came, the kids were still in school for another three hours, and it was Tuesday, the day she traditionally had off of work. He found her right before the kitchen in the laundry, oblivious to his entry. He watched as she lifted clothes from the washer to the dryer. He knew her outfit very well, the loose shorts, tank top. But there was one very important difference in that the side of her breast which was normally restrained by the sports bra now floated free beneath the fabric. Instinctively his hand went to his already hard cock. If he would have thought about it he might not have done it. If he had thought about it, it still would not have mattered. All that mattered was the loose shorts riding loosely on her generous ass, and the smooth white skin of her breast as he took his cock in his hand.



She would remember him in the doorway from that day forward, she would remember everything about this moment forever. There was a fire in his eyes that she knew but was different. She was caught between a smile and the desire to greet him and the desire to chastise him for walking in on her. Her eyes wandered down his six foot four frame. It was obvious that College had changed him, the t-shirt fit tighter across his rising chest, the young boy that had been in and out of her house for years was still there but he was different. When her backwards stare fell on the hard dick in his hand her jaw dropped.



She knew that cock, she had felt it against her thigh, her ass, once even brushing her forearm against on the excuse that she had dropped a playing piece to a board game they were playing. She had laid on her bed her legs spread thinking about it. But it was bigger and more beautiful than she had ever imagined. The kind of dick that she would dream about when Larry used to bend her over the bed and slam up against her ass. She stayed facing the dryer her head turned to his approach. Her mind racing looking for the words to say but she could not find any as they fought all over her tongue. She chose instead to bend over to close the dryer door and then lean forward to press the start button. All the while never taking her eyes off Ted, and his hard dick. She turned her stare forward as he stepped closer.



But he had seen her eyes on his, on his dick, wandered if she was even aware of how she had bit her lower lip. He approached her, his right hand sliding past her hip as it had when he had put the glass on the sink. And just like that time her instincts told her to drive her hips back into him. She wanted to arch her shoulders against him. Feel his breath on her neck, his cock on her ass, her nipples hardened immediately as the fabric of her shirt slid across them at the thought of his hands groping her breasts. She wanted him to be her husband. She did not want him to know what the thought of him had forced her to do to herself in the bathroom at work after she had rolled against him in the hall nine months ago. She could not let on to the feelings, the thoughts that seemed so wrong that had filled her head for so long.



“Where is everyone” the words fell above her ears, his breath along her lobes.



It was a perfectly natural question, one she had heard many times but this time, the weight of the words was much different. “Out…” was all that came out of her mouth before she found herself pressed against the dryer as his right hand slid across her hips to just above her polka dotted panty line. When she felt the fingers gaining purchase beneath the elastic of her panties it was too much. Her ankles rocked her up into the air forcing her loose short covered ass against his raging hard on. She might have withdrawn at this point if his right hand had not descended to scratch at the generous pussy fur above her clit. She wanted to withdraw but was caught in the moment, and by him. His left hand positioned his dick along the crack of her ass and pulled her to him. His left hand now free it slid over her ass and up her side snaking it’s way under her left tit he gathered the fabric of her shirt in his hand and pulled tight. She gasped at the sensation of the fabric pulled tight over her nearly exposed breasts, and the power and the pressure of his hands so irresistibly close to them. The fabric of her top still tight in his hand his hand slid up between her breasts towards her neck, his forearms dragging against her nipples. This was too much, she needed to find clarity she needed a moment to collect herself, to stop this flood of feelings.



Every half-hearted attempt she made to escape his grip found her grinding her ass harder against him. She was keenly aware of it as it snaked it’s way between her legs sliding in past the fabric of her shorts, gliding along her already moist underwear. She went to her tiptoes again as if it would lift her off of that monster that was now riding the length her pussy, its delightful upward angle teasing her clit. On feeling her rise his hand firmly ran the length of her throat, took hold beneath her jaw and forced her down on him, the head of his dick sliding over her clit she breathed in deeply as though she was being suspended above the ground by his powerful dick. His right hand found the rhythm she was starting, fingers lightly clawing at her pussy hair as if trying to crawl down to her clit and the head of his cock a mere inch or two away. His hand at her throat had forced her stare to the dusty mirror above the dryer. Making her watch his hands at her throat, his fingers under her panties, and his eyes devouring her body. She watched as her lips came near her ear, she felt his breath.



“Shhhhh…” The sound, his hands, his dick, all pressing against her made her shudder as she felt her clit tremble. “This is nothing we have not done, done before.” She knew exactly what he meant, she had thought of this and thought of this a lot, it was apparently something he thought of often as well. So often that it was ingrained in them.



He joined her at the mirror and gathered in her gaze, his lips still by her ears. “Touch it” she withdrew her trembling right hand from the dryer, her gaze still lost in his. Her fingers slid along the hot head of his cock and began the run the length of his shaft when his left hand closed tighter against her throat. “Not there you need to put things back where they belong” His right hand left her mound and seized her hand on his dick making him squeeze it then sliding it so her fingers slipped along her wet pussy and he forced her to begin rubbing her clit to the rhythm she had established. Still staring in the mirror he watched her try to stifle the moans she was trying to make as she felt his hard dick against her pussy, her fingers quickly bringing her clit to climax. His right hand slid up her soft stomach and began groping at the breasts he had so long dreamed about. Gathering her nipples beneath the fabric, squeezing, pulling, tugging at her had nipples she could not take it anymore and a loud moan escaped her.



“ohhhhhhhhh godddd..” His reflection in the mirror broke into a smile more devious than anything she could remember. She watched his tongue, then his mouth fall on her ear, licking, sucking at her lobe, then her neck. Her knees grew weak, she could feel her climax building. Removing her wet fingers from her pussy she tried to guide his big head back into her pussy but he resisted, teased her. Forcing it against her clit then withdrawing his hips. She could not stand it… “Fuck me!” She could not believe the words had come out of her mouth. He spun her around in front of the dryer and looked into her eyes, one hand pulling her generous ass against him his other burying itself in the back of her curly short hair and craning her neck up to him. He reached down and ripped her shorts to the floor.



“Not yet.” Ted lifted her from the floor by her ass and her hair. She was not a small woman but he was no little boy anymore. Her legs wrapped around him wiggling, trying to get that hard dick in her he placed her on the dryer. “I have thought about this for too long”. She arched her back as he stepped forward forcing her underwear to the side, and trembled as this boy who had been in her house so many times put his fingers into her pussy. “I have spent years watching your breasts. It is time that you showed them to me”. He slid the tank top straps down over her shoulders. He was like a wild animal when he got his mouth on her middle aged tits. His fingers working her pussy, his thumb rubbing her clit, the dryer vibrating beneath her. He stepped back and she looked at his hard cock and then closed her eyes waiting to feel it buried inside, waiting to let her orgasm erupt all over it. But it was not his dick that she felt, instead it was his mouth enveloping her pussy and the flat of his tongue shaking against her clit. She opened her eyes to watch her babysitter fucking her with his mouth as she began to drive her hips against his face. “I told you to show them to me” he said looking up at her from her pussy. “I have always loved watching you play with your nipples. Show me.”



If she was going to panic this would have been the time and place. But in comparison to the fact that his tongue was driving her to orgasm the thought that he knew, he had seen her play with her nipples, and what else he might have seen was of little consequence. Her fingers had been on her breast for mere moments when she felt the fire of the orgasm and grinding her hips tried to get clear of the flat of his tongue pressing tightly against her clit as she came all over his face. He held her tight as she thrashed atop the dryer, his hands now joining her on her breasts. With a devilish smile he slid her underwear off of her, wiped his wet face with them and placed them in the pocket of his undone jeans. Pulling him to her on the dryer their mouths met for the first time. For the first time since it began he recognized reluctance in her eyes but within moments of their lips touching her tongue was in his mouth.



She had forgotten how kissing could be Larry had never been a good kisser and now he was a non kisser. But tasting his spit and her pussy and their tongues clashed it all came flooding back to her. Sliding her off of the dryer onto unsteady legs she broke the kiss and stared up at him, the down the dick in his hands and knew what was to come next. She lowered herself to her knees. Bragging to her friends that she could deep throat her husband did not seem like much of a brag, but Ted’s cock, there was something to brag about. His hand slid around the back of her head and craned her neck up to look at him as his other guided his dick towards her partially opened mouth. “Have you ever thought about this?” She nodded yes. “Thought about what Jean?”



“Abou..” was all she got out because she opened her mouth to speak he forced his big dick deep into to back of her throat. She started to gag, to retreat but he held her tight.



“Come on, you know you can do it”. She overcame the urge to gag, felt her throat open a little more as his dick slid in and out. “You can take it, I’ve seen you take it”. Seen her take it, she tried to freeze. How did, what did, she looked up at him with confusion and fear and he took that opportunity slam it even father in her throat. Her gaze never left him as he continued to fuck her face, and confess to her about the long term lust he had for her, about what he had seen in the bathroom, the bedroom. Her confusion and fear were replaced with wanton lust by the time she felt his hot load explode down the back of her throat. He held her there on his cock till she drained him of all that he had. Then he slowly began fucking her face again until his was hard once more and her pussy was on fire.



Lifting her from the floor he grabbed the familiar worn robe from the hanger on the drying rack and slipped it on her. While their tongues once again danced in each others mouths. God she loved kissing him. He lead her into the kitchen and asked her to make some Kool Aid for him. She knew exactly what he was up to and made a modest production out of reaching high in the cupboard for the pitcher. She could feel his eyes all over her body, and every inch of where the cloth of the robe touched her skin was on fire. When the pitcher was half full in the sink he was behind her just as he had been the last time she had worn the robe for him. But this time when she stepped back into him his hard dick pressed the fabric of the robe against the crack of her ass. This time when she leaned backwards into him his hands groped at her breast. She looked over to the chair where Larry had been the first time this had happened. Then out the window across the backyard where she could see Faye her friend and neighbor adjusting her swimsuit and lawn chair and red hair as she prepared to lay out. She leaned back over the sink and he leaned with her taking in the same scene. “Your windows always do have the best view” he whispered in her ears and they stared at Faye, as his hands groped at her breasts, as she grinded wet pussy against his dick through the fabric. “Ask again”.

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