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The girl was tired from her travels – shopping and seeing the sights. Stopping at a little café, she placed her bags on the cobblestone walkway under the table and sat down. Propping her hands under her chin she watched the people as they went scurrying about. The waitress came over and took her order, which was an ice tea with lemon. As she sat there sipping it a cute guy sat down at the next table. She let her eyes drift up from the glass to his eyes and when she noticed him looking, her face turned a little red. She let her hand run up the glass and touch the rim; sliding it around, she daydreamed.

“Excuse me.”

She started and looked up, barely getting a ‘yes’ out as their eyes met. Her hand shook as she brought it back, placing it in her lap.

In a shaky low voice she said,” I was daydreaming I guess.”

He smiled and said, “Must have been about something nice the smile you had on your face, like a picture that says a thousand words and those words said lovely thoughts.”

She smiled back at him and said,” Yes they were, but from long ago.”

He reached down and took her hand, asking if she minded him joining her.

She responded, “No, please do.”

She watched as he moved into the chair, still holding her hand.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

Her hand was shaking a little as she answered.

“Just out on the town today, doing some window shopping mostly; it was just too nice to be stuck inside!”

He laughed softly as he looked down at her bags commenting that if she really went on a shopping spree, he would wonder just how many bags there would be!

She just smiled escort bayan telling him that he could help carry them!

He arched up over the table, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She didn’t pull away but leaned closer to him taking his hand and squeezing it. He then asked if he could help take her things to her car; she shyly agreed.

He stood and moved to the other side of the table, took her bags in hand and asked her to lead the way. She stood and walked in front of him, her hips swaying as he looked at her sexy ass. Once they got to her car he moved in front of her, opening the door and placing the bags in the trunk. He turned and stepped back up on the walk. She thanked him with a sweet smile.

She stood beside him, leaning against the car and looking down, afraid to look him right in the eyes thinking he was going to know just how bad she wanted to ask him back to her place. She wondered if he would think she was being too forward or even worse, think she just did it with anyone she met.

Finally she just figured it was now or never! He was starting to look a little nervous.

“Would you like to come to my place for a drink?” finally came out of her mouth, almost in a whisper.

He smiled and said, “Sure that would be nice. We could get to know each other better.”

Sliding into the seat, her skirt slipped up showing her thigh. As he shut the passenger door he looked over, not being able to keep his eyes off her and trying hard to hide the bulge in his pants. She let her thigh show, not fixing her skirt as they drove to her little cottage on the river. Once escort bayan there they both stepped from the car and onto the porch; she tried to put the key in to open the front door but her hand was shaking too much.

He reached up, brushing his hand against hers and said, “Let me give you a hand.”

Inside she told him to just set the bags on a bench by the door. Smiling she said, ” I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”

He was studying a picture hanging above the fireplace when she came back.

“Where did you ever find this?” he asked.

“Oh, I didn’t find it, I painted it.”

“It’s very unique,” he continued, “probably just like the lady that painted it I’m guessing.”

Smiling at him she nodded. He moved over closer to her, brushing his hand down along her arm, giving her goose bumps. She froze as their eyes met. Leaning in, he kissed her lips lightly at first, then a little bit harder, slipping his hand around her back and pulling her close. She blushed, feeling the massive bulge in his pants. With a quick turn he fell on the couch, pulling her with him. She landed on top of him as he pulled at her clothing. It seemed they both ended up nude at the same time with their hot bodies touching. His hands caressed her tight ass as he pulled her down on his huge cock. In a low grunt she felt him stretch her open as he slipped inside. His fingers pressing into the sides of her ass cheeks, pulling her down onto him slowly. Her erect nipples touching and rubbing his chest. He reached up with his other hand gripping the back of her hair, bringing her lips to his and he bayan escort gaziantep slowly buried his full length in her hot cunt; her moans filled the room as she felt him taking her closer to that sweet release.

She reached up grabbing his shoulders, pulling, trying to get even more of his hard thick pole inside her, loving how it felt. He moaned low, leaning up and taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around her nipple ring, then tugging on it with his lips sending little vibrations from them down though her body to her pussy. She arched her back pulling up so that just the tip of his cock rubbed over her clit making her whole body shake. He cupped one hand over her breast, squeezing it and pulling the hard nipple to his hot mouth as he reached around to her ass and pulled her down hard on his hardness.

She screamed loud as her juices run down his cock. He pushed up harder with every stroke, trying to get even deeper as his cock erupted and flooded her hot cunt with his seed. Writhing together, skin sticking together as he quickly turned her and moved up over her, pulling her legs apart and pushing her legs back as he looked at her naked mound, taking his cock in his hand, rubbing it over her wet pussy lips before plunging back in, not hesitating to bury every inch all at once. Her mouth was open wide as he pushed deep, wiggling his hips as she felt herself moving though another wave of pleasure. He leaned his head in and kissed her neck licking along it, fucking her into another orgasm almost as hard as the first, covering his cock with her juices, their lips meeting as he flooded her inner walls with another load. Shaking as the last wave passed though her he held her in his arms, slipping out as they lay together.

He reached up, pushing her hair back and looking into her eyes saying, “I’m certainly glad you went window shopping,”

They both laughed and sat up holding each other until she fell asleep in his arms.

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

Chap. 2: Academic Probation

Story code: F/m, older woman/younger man, masturbation, maternal domination, authoritative/reluctance, mild humiliation/teasing, big natural breasts, nursing fetish, mild femdom, nurturing.

All characters depicted in this story are 18 years or older.

Synopsis: An 18 year-old high school student is sent to his academic advisor’s office for some hands-on counseling in the hopes that it will inspire him to pickup his flagging grades.

Copyright © 2008-2011, Soulstroker (a.k.a. Magnifico Giganticus). ALL Rights Reserved.

Johnny was a very smart young man. In fact he was so smart that his high school subjects bored him. With all his intelligence, one would think that Johnny would have aced his way right through high school, but the truth was that he rarely ever got an ‘A’ in his classes. The problem lay in the fact that Johnny suffered from depression, which manifested itself as a total lack of motivation or interest in his high school lessons. Johnny wouldn’t discuss this with anyone. He even managed to convince himself that his attitude and lack of self-motivation was just a phase he was going through. All teenage boys are supposed to be lazy and bored easily—right?

As a result, Johnny was very distressed when half-way through 6th period, a note arrived summoning him to the academic counselor’s office. At St. Justin High School, students were required to visit with one of the three academic counselors at least once every school year. As a senior Johnny had already met with his counselor in each of his pervious high school years, but each time he had made an appointment. This was the first time he had ever been called out of class to see them. As Johnny walked slowly down the empty halls, he quickly reasoned that his sagging GPA must be the reason why he had been called. He had been a pretty good student in his freshman year, but by the end of his junior year he had dipped below a 2.0 GPA. As he neared the counselor’s office, he began to formulate what he would say to his councilor, he needed plausible excuses for why his grades were dropping, and why it wasn’t his fault. He was becoming more and more nervous with each step and began repeating his excuses in his mind to himself. As the door came in view his silent litany suddenly came to a halt as he remembered the name of the counselor assigned to him, Mrs. Baggends. Contrary to the kind sounding name, Mrs. Baggends was an old German battleaxe who seemed to have been ripped right out of some children’s fairy tail. She was harsh, mean, ill-tempered—in short, Johnny couldn’t imagine any evil step-mothers or wicked witches being much worse. Standing before the office door, the prospect of the approaching encounter let him to continue his litany with renewed vigor. With a clammy hand, he finally reached for the door handle and entered the office.

The academic counselors’ offices were actually one large room. Five-foot tall dividers (the kind popular in Dilbert cartoons) had been used to form a small reception area and three small offices for each of the counselors. During either of the two lunch periods, (4th for under, and 5th of upper classmen) this place was packed with students, now however it was totally empty. Upon entering, Johnny looked down at the receptionist, who sat behind a small desk next to the door, and announced himself. The receptionist was a student herself, who for some insane reason had chosen to do this job as her elective this quarter. Johnny recognized her as Rebecca the Jewish girl from his 3rd period religion class. She stuck out in Johnny’s mind because she was one of the few non-Catholic students at St. Justin’s and she had been quite vocal in the class they shared. Beyond her ethnicity, she was also one of the more beautiful girls in school. Her dark eyes and pale milky skin gave her a mystical quality which only accentuated a long graceful neck and a head of thick dark hair that curled at the tips, deliciously hugging her soft jaw line. Rebecca was also well developed for a girl her age, already sporting the curves of a woman which were the talk of the boy’s locker room. While Johnny couldn’t see the rest of her figure at the moment, she certainly had an ample bosom which seemed to settle on the desktop every time she exhaled.

“Johnny is it,” she asked looking up from her appointment book, “aren’t you one of Mrs. Baggends’ students?”

“Um, yes, yes that’s right, she’s my academic counselor. I got this note in class saying I should come here for an advising session,” Johnny stammered with his usual shyness as he held out the note for her to see.

“Well that’s strange, Mrs. Baggends has been sick all week—”

Someone in the cubicle directly behind Rebecca spoke up from behind the divider.

“It’s alright Rebecca, I sent for him. Come on in my office Johnny,” came a female voice.

Rebecca smiled and pointed to the office entrance to the left behind her. Johnny nodded and walked in. The cramped ateşli gaziantep escort bayan office contained a file cabinet, some bookshelves, an overlarge desk, opposite which was a small beaten up old couch. Behind the desk sat a lady he had never actually met before, but knew to be one of the other academic councelors. She looked to be in her early 30s by Johnny’s guess. While far from fat, she had a pleasant roundness about her, with a large rear and top that accentuated the tick curves of her narrower middle. She was dressed in a modern gray business outfit with a jacket that closed in a ‘V’ over her rather pronounced chest. Her shoulder length brown hair was cut in an old fashioned style, lending severity to her otherwise friendly-looking oval face. Overall she was a strange mix of old and new which for some reason reminded Johnny of his mother, though her facial features were nothing like his mother’s.

She looked up with a professional smile and motioned to the couch, “Have a seat while I finish this paperwork real quick.”

Johnny nodded solemnly and cringed so as to avoid knocking over anything as he navigated to the couch in the confined space. The cushions made loud embarrassing squeaking noises as he sank into the old couch. He sat so low, he was barely eye level with the surface of her desk. He felt uncomfortable in this position and was very self-aware of the extra pounds his own frame carried. At 6’3″ and 265 pounds, Johnny was not a small guy by anyone’s standards. For a few moments the only sound in the office was the scratching of led on paper. Johnny sat there watching the woman write. The ‘V’ of her business suit would bulge open every now and then with the fierceness of her writing, revealing brief glimpses of the jiggling cleavage hidden within. Johnny began to sweat a little more as his teenage mind began to realize that this round—almost matronly—lady actually had attributes that were incredibly erotic to him.

The woman finished and looked up quickly—too quickly for Johnny. However, instead of announcing his guilty stare by abruptly looking away, he kept on staring at the front of her jacket as if pretended looking at her nearby hand as she was writing. He only looked up at her face after she had begun to speak. The bluff seemed to have worked.

“Now then young man, I am Mrs. Boneham,” she announced loudly, “your file has been transferred into my care. It seems that you’ve been ignoring your schoolwork and landed yourself on Academic Probation last quarter.” She paused briefly before continuing, “when promising students go on AP we usually give them one quarter to correct themselves. However, I’ve been talking to your teachers, and they say your quiz and test scores this year haven’t improved. Now, do you have anyway to explain this poor performance Johnny?”

Looking up at Mrs Boneham from the sagging couch Johnny was taken off guard by the sudden start of her interrogation, but managed to eventually answer, “Um, well Mrs. Boneham I know I’ve been struggling and, um—”

Johnny was about to launch into his well practiced litany of excuses but she cut him off: “Indeed you have young man. Now I’ll be up front with you. We counselors here break up the students we see into two basic groups: Mrs. Baggends handles all the good students who have a long track record of good academic standing and Ms. Burgville handles the students who are obviously never going to shape up and simply coast their way through St. Justin with no hopes for bright futures. The choice is up to you—we can guide you, but only you are able to determine which group you fall into.”

Johnny tried to reply but Mrs. Boneham went on, “Now there is a third group Johnny, which is where you and I come in. Some of the brighter students sometimes seem to fall from grace as it were. It’s my job to catch them, and if possible, correct their wayward ways and put them back on the right path. I think I can help you, but for me to do so, we will have to work together. You have to want to correct yourself. You have to want my help and be willing to work with me to make it happen. Can you do that Johnny?” She finally stopped and waited for him to answer.

“Y-y-y yes, yes I can do that Mrs. Boneham. I-I want to be on the right path.” He stammered, relieved that the direction of the conversation was going in a direction in which he seemed to be blameless.

“That’s real good Johnny”, she said with a cocked eyebrow, “Because frankly I don’t have the luxury to waste time on a slacker who won’t give me one hundred percent.” She let here statement hang in the air for a few seconds as they stared at each other.

“Now we’re going to sit down and figure out what went wrong with you. I don’t want any excuses, and I don’t want any lies. You need to be honest with me if our relationship is going to work. Now, tell me honestly, what do you think is the problem? Is something outside your academic life troubling bakımlı gaziantep escort bayan you? How are things at home?”

“Um, e-e-everything is fine at home Mrs. Boneham,” Johnny stammered, worried that he once again had to produce answers.

“I see, well how about your social life, then? Is there a bully or a group of kids who pick on you? I can’t see anyone trying something with someone your size.”

“Well, n-no no, not at all Mrs. Boneham. At least I can’t think of any,” he spoke up.

“Well there has to be something young man. Looking at your transcripts from you first two years you managed a 3.2 GPA. While that’s not an Ivy League number, it certainly shows you were a good student. A GPA like that doesn’t just drop like a stone for no reason,” she spoke loudly in an earnest attempt to make her point. “Can you think of any reason for this drop off in production?” With her last statement Mrs. Boneham leaned forward sharply for emphasis and her over-large bosom was driven against the top of her desk. The ‘V’ of her jacket bulged open wantonly before Johnny’s eyes. Panic set in and Johnny began to sweat profusely as he willed himself not to look at the exposed female flesh.

Waveringly, he said “w-well, um, there may be something thing…”

As Johnny let his statement hang in the moist, uncomfortable silence, his gaze slide slowly downwards against his will, to the deep and inviting cleavage on display. It was as if his eyes had a mind of their own, and at a critical moment they decided to betray him. In horror he quickly looked back up at Mrs. Boneham’s oval face, panic now clearly showing on his own face. The counselor had traced his gaze a moment before, and briefly showed surprise; but that was quickly brought under control as her faced darkened with anger. In a quite, ominous tone she asked, “and what would that be?”

Johnny lost all measure of control and began to blubber, “W-w-w well you know. Um, sometimes, um, I have trouble dealing with people. Um, like, like, like, I can’t talk to them. I freeze up, or, or, or, or—.” Terror and humiliation had hard-locked his ability to articulate his thoughts. It only loosened after he consciously gave up, and only then tried again. A moment later he sighed disparagingly and finished, “I come off sounding like an idiot.” He hung his head down in disgust and shame—ready for the onslaught of anger which was sure to come from the councelor.

Mrs. Boneham rocked back in her chair with her hands supporting the back of her head. She gazed thoughtfully at the mournful Johnny. She reflected on her 11 years in the education field, 8 of them spent at St. Justin’s, and realized that this case seemed very similar to a number of other boys. All of them exhibited a pattern of shyness, helplessness, low self esteem, awkwardness in social situations—in short all the things she had seen thus far from Johnny. She wasn’t one hundred percent certain though. She had to confirm her hunch. She decided to bluff.

“Them?” She asked poignantly, “don’t you mean girls?”

Johnny’s head shot up, shocked at the keen perception of the councelor’s question. In less then two minutes she had plucked out the kernel of his mystery—he wasn’t simply shy, just awkward around the opposite sex. He felt as if he had been punched in the face. His wide-eyed, opened-mouth stare was all the conformation Mrs. Boneham needed. Inwardly she grinned in satisfaction, she had been right. On the outside, only a knowing smirk played across her face. As the silence hung a moment longer, Mrs. Boneham recalled other elements of the profile Johnny exhibited:

Prone towards mood disorders, introverted, lack of motivation, often coming from a matriarchally-dominated home, submissive towards female authority figures, extreme awkwardness with peers of the opposite sex, emotionally self-abusive, hedonistic, heightened libido, often prone towards escapisms and various addictions—especially compulsive masturbation.

She suppressed a smile as she recalled the last fact. This was no laughing matter she chided herself inwardly. This boy needed her help if she wanted to give him a promising future. It was up to her to save him, to guide him towards that future. Due to the many such cases she had handled, she knew the key to helping Johnny was through the manipulation of his sex drive coupled with his reverence for female authority figures. Mrs. Boneham actually enjoyed these types of cases best and had unofficially made their treatment her specialty; soon after starting her chosen vocation, she had realized it was these cases specifically that drew her to the field. Relishing what she knew would develop over the coming weeks and months, Mrs. Boneham decided in an instant that there was no time like the present to administer his initial treatment.

At last Johnny recovered enough to attempt a response. His eyes threatened to overflow with tears as he softly stuttered, gaziantep bayan escort “I, I, I, don’t know what you mean Mrs. B—”

“Oh, come, come Johnny, don’t lie to me. You promised to be truthful, remember,” she cut him off.

Johnny started babbling again as he attempted to protest his innocents. As he went on, Mrs. Boneham got up to stand between the desk and the Johnny. Standing tall above him, she looked down at the helpless youth. She decided to get right to the point, “Johnny, how often do you play with yourself? I bet it’s a lot. Am I right?” Looking up at her smiling, knowing face, Johnny was once again frozen in embarrassment and fear.

“It’s alright to admit it, you know,” she said matter-of-factly, “most boys your age do it often, but I am willing to bet you do it much more, at least three times a day, probably more. Isn’t that right Johnny?” She emphasized his name, using it like a hammer. For a moment longer, he still couldn’t speak and Mrs. Boneham waited. Her training and experience had paid off, she had shocked him just enough so that he would be completely vulnerable for what would come next to sink in properly. She honestly felt sympathy for poor Johnny. She knew that over all he was just an innocent boy with a good heart who was having trouble coping with the changes his mind and body were enduring at this stage in his life. She honestly regretted toying with him like this, but it was for his own good. Besides, it was good practice for married life, she mused. She certainly wouldn’t be the last woman to use his physical and psychological needs towards her own ends.

Staring at his face the entire time, she could tell he was finally about to say something. Now was the time for the real therapy to move forward. Before he could get a sound out she placed a finger on his lips and hushed him as she left the desk and let herself sink into the couch next to him.

“Shhh, its alright Johnny. Shhhhh,” she soothed him.

As if by magic, he suddenly stopped trying to talk, to defend himself. He stopped resisting her.

“Don’t worry Johnny, there are ways to help special boys like you. You’re not like everyone else, are you? You have special needs. I know how to help you, and with a lot of work, I think you will be ok again. We’re going to have to work together, and I’m going to need your very best effort, alright?”

Johnny nodded meekly. He had always felt “different” somehow. He was so grateful for her compassion, so relieved at her understanding and apparent lack of anger for his inappropriate behavior. At this point would do what ever she told him. Mrs. Boneham smiled her pretty face at him, “alright then,” and started to unbuckle his pants, “help me get these pants off, we have a lot of work to do.” Emotionally exhausted beyond the means to express himself, Johnny numbly allowed her to work on his buckle, his eyes wide with unspoken trepidation of what this strange but compassionate woman was going to do to him. She firmly placed her hands on his thigh urging him to lift his buttocks, which he did automatically, though in the lethargic manner of reluctance. “There’s a good boy,” she soothed carefully, the way a mother would sooth a child who needed to have its blood drawn, her eyes constantly on his to gage his current state. She slid down both his pants and his boxers in one motion. His flaccid penis was starting to stir as it came into view. She smiled knowingly and remarked, “Your willy sure seems to know what’s coming next.” Before he could contemplate her meaning, Johnny suddenly thought he heard a stifled giggle roll softly from over the office divider. Mrs. Boneham seemed to have heard it too, as she paused momentarily, but seemed to put it out of her mind and continue. She quickly helped him take off his T-shirt, discarding it on the floor. She began caressing the inside of Johnny’s naked thighs, then paused as if thinking of a better course of action. “Why don’t we just take these nasty pants completely off,” she asked herself and bent down to unlace his shoes. They were quickly discarded along with his pants and underwear. She then grabbed his left ankle and swiveled his body around on the couch so he was facing her. She rested his left leg on the back of the couch seat. “For easy access,” she smiled reassuringly with a motherly pat on his knee. Situated between his spread-eagled knees, she indeed had easy access to his genitalia, and proceeded to take advantage of it. Mrs. Boneham leaned in for a closer look and began to nudge Johnny’s slowly erecting member with a crooked finger. “Come on honey, make your willy nice and stiff for me. I know you want to,” she remarked when she saw his penis was slow to fill with blood, currently being only at half mast. In his exhaustion Johnny couldn’t even manage his usual stuttering, and simply sat silently with a worried look on his face. Mrs. Boneham saw the panic and shame in his eyes when confronted with his perceived inadequacies. She knew his “little problem” was only due to feelings of shame and that normally he could erect in seconds. But causing shame was part of the plan—she would gain untold control and devotion from him by absolving and freeing him of that shame as a kind and nurturing female authority figure. “Don’t worry Johnny, I know what boys like you need. Your willy is playing hard-to-get, but I know just how to get it to cooperate,” she remarked matter-of-factly.

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

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

“Jamie, is this a male or a female student?” I asked, pointing at the picture on my roster.

She looked at me over her glasses and said, “Does it make a difference?”

“Not for grades. No. But, for putting students in groups and referring to their work, you know? Things like that happen in class. I’ll need to use third person pronouns—he, she, him, her—and I won’t know which one to use.”

She sighed, looked at the picture and said, “Aryn’s unsure of her gender.”

“‘Her.’ Got it. Thanks, Jamie.” I left the counseling center.

***

I taught mostly the juniors, but I had one section of English 12C—what my fellow English teachers called “Supersenior English.” It was the class no one wanted. I had all the Superseniors—the students who failed to earn enough English credits to graduate during four years of high school and needed to come back for a semester or two.

Our school district is an affluent one: lots of money and highly involved parents. At a previous teaching gig, nine times out of ten, when a student failed to graduate, they were pretty much gone, never saw them again. They maybe ended up in some GED program down the road. But here, most kids end up coming back for the Supersenior classes. 18, 19 years old, and they come back. Strange place.

My roster for English-12C included Aryn Hunter McGrath.

When she walked into the classroom, I looked for signs of femaleness. Aryn had a boy’s short hair, buzzed around her neck and ears. Yet, her mahogany brown hair was, perhaps, styled in a way that suggested a feminine attentiveness. Aryn didn’t wear make up, but she didn’t need to. It was a youthful and blemish-free face, with big brown, almost black, eyes. The shape was definitely not masculine.

Yet, Aryn had a man’s bearing. She crossed her legs like a man—foot on the knee—stuck her hands into her jean pockets like a man, and strutted like a man. She looked at things the way some men do—like there is dominance or ownership in what they see. There was a kind of rugged confidence and carelessness about Aryn’s demeanor. She didn’t give a fuck who thought what.

If there were breasts, I couldn’t see them, nor if there were hips. Aryn was straight as a board and skinny. She was on the taller side for a female, about five-seven. Unlike many of her female classmates, she didn’t wear tight clothes to look hot; she wore loose jeans and tee shirts for comfort.

Like with every new class, I asked the students to fill out a little index card. The usual contact information went on it, but I always asked them to write in some information that told me a little bit about them—what activities they were involved in, hobbies, where they worked, a favorite book, song, show or film.

Aryn’s card looked like it was written by a boy—it had a guy’s shitty, chicken-scratch handwriting. She wrote that she was looking for a job, and she wrote down that her favorite film was Heat. Next to it, she wrote, “I love movies.”

One of the things I really believe in as a teacher and a coach, a thing I really go out of my way to do, is to show an interest in my students’ interests. I’ll go to the restaurant where they work. For my underclass students, I’ll see them at their performances or games. I’ll watch their favorite show, listen to the song they really like, or rent their favorite movie and watch it. Then, I’ll try to have conversation with them about it. These were the kinds of things that built good relationships with the students, and that, to me, was the essential ingredient to both a comfortable classroom and student learning.

Meanwhile, I took notice of Aryn—I had a bit more curiosity about her than the others; she was unique, a mystery. She usually only hung out in the halls with girls, but not the way other girls hang out with girls. The female students Aryn spent time with interacted with her like she was a boy—almost like they flirted with her.

Her flock of female followers consisted mostly of the ones who didn’t conform—the ones way into Japanese animation, the ones whose bodies didn’t quite meet society’s expectations, the moody ones who dyed their hair bizarre colors, the ones with extra piercings. These suburban high school misfits orbited Aryn in the halls.

I only rarely saw her converse with a male student. In fact, for the first several weeks of class, she would never look at me when she answered one of my questions. She didn’t volunteer; I called on her. When she responded, she would look at her desk or at another student.

I spoke with Aryn’s previous English teacher about her.

She told me Aryn had hated her. My colleague said, “I didn’t cut her any slack, and Aryn just quit on me.”

“What’s her deal? The look, the clothes, the girls. Do you know?” I asked.

My colleague looked at me strangely and said, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No.”

“She’s a lesbian. I’ve heard other students talking about her.”

“Huh,” I said, “Is she—does she want to become a guy or something?”

“As to that, I don’t know, antep escort bayan but she’s gay. That I know for sure.”

I asked her how she knew, and she told me a story about Aryn and some girl back in a junior high restroom.

I wasn’t sure how much stock I’d put in a middle school rumor. I thanked her and left.

I figured it was time to reach out to Aryn. I put a sticky note on her desk while I was lecturing about our personal narrative paper. I let her know that I was going to watch Heat that weekend. I was in the back of the classroom, yapping about types of narratives, and I watched her read the note. She turned around and looked at me. A first.

So, I watched the film. I really liked it: Pacino and the cops vs. De Niro and the robbers. It was great, and there was this riveting city shoot out, maybe one of the best I’d ever seen.

When I walked into the classroom on Monday, Aryn watched me. I gave her a thumbs up and nodded with a big smile. She smiled, too. Her big brown eyes shined, and she never looked so feminine as just then.

When the bell rang, I was sitting at my desk. Aryn came over.

“I loved it, Aryn. That robbery shoot out? Incredible. And so many storylines all woven together. It was deep. Rich.”

She nodded. “My favorite scene is where they fool the cops at the shipyard.”

“Yeah, that was pretty cool.”

“Think you’ll ever watch it again?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Will you do me a favor, then?” she asked.

“What’s up?”

She said, “When you watch it, look for the color blue—not just blue-blue, but ice blue, okay?”

Intrigued, I said, “Okay. Will do.”

She smiled again and walked out.

At the end of class the next day, I called her over to my desk. “Ice blue—it’s in darn near every shot.”

She nodded, grinning, “I know! Cool, right?”

“We’ll have to talk sometime about why you think the director did that.”

She hesitated and then said, “When’s your plan period?”

“Fifth hour.”

“I’ll swing by. I’m done after fourth.”

“Okay.”

She walked into my empty classroom a few hours later, and we talked about the ice-blue of Heat. She pulled my stool over from behind the podium and sat on it across from my desk.

And it was weird—not our conversation, but how I felt while I was talking to her.

I felt warm.

I had trouble concentrating because of it. Hard to describe, it felt like the heat came from inside me—in my belly—and spread out from there to my limbs. It was like the feeling of hard liquor in my stomach, but without the taste or the throat burn. I even felt it in my groin.

I had never experienced anything like it, the warmth, just chatting with another person. And, I knew it was because of Aryn. Her presence, her voice was like a massage. It relaxed me completely. I wished the desk wasn’t there, wished she was closer to me. I never wanted her to quit talking or leave.

I had trouble responding to her questions, like there was a time delay of a second or two for me to grasp what she had just said..

And my whole body felt tingly warm.

When she left with a wave, the feeling vanished.

I looked up “pheromones” that night. I remembered reading about them when I was a lot younger, and the word just popped into my head after Aryn left. What I read convinced me of two things. First, pheromones influencing human behavior was speculative science, at best. Second, my body’s reaction to Aryn appeared to match perfectly with the article’s depiction of how animals sometimes responded to pheromones.

I didn’t know what to think of pheromones. Whatever the case, my body had reacted to hers, it was something I’d never before experienced, and I wanted to feel it again.

Aryn’s involvement in class improved dramatically after our conversation, and she looked me in the eyes when she answered questions. She actually volunteered sometimes.

I spent more time than usual near Aryn’s desk. It didn’t help me regain that warm sensation, but I did discover something else.

I was prepping the class for a trip to the library. There, the students were to select a book from a special section the librarian set up for me—all shorter biographies. While I was roaming the classroom, answering questions about the reading assignment, I came walking up Aryn’s row.

She had a fat binder—one I’d seen many times. The front cover was a trifold, and when Aryn opened it across her desk, the inside, hidden page fell open in front of me. She hastily scooped it up and refolded it, but not before I caught a fleeting glimpse.

The page was loaded with pictures. I don’t know exactly what I saw, but it looked like a collage of pictures of her and others in various places. I saw a lot of skin.

I noted it without an overt reaction and continued.

But, during the library visit a few days later, once I’d escorted everyone up, I zipped back to my classroom and took a look. I felt guilty about araban escort bayan it, but I couldn’t forget about that warm tingling feeling. Aryn intrigued me.

Broadly, the pictures on the inside of Aryn’s trifold binder surprised me—Aryn was much more outgoing than I thought. There was a certain spirited irreverence about her. There was one picture of her, much younger, skateboarding downtown with friends. That was illegal. Another showed Aryn with her arm around a very old, smiling nun. Aryn was showing the “rock on” hand gesture and had her tongue stuck out. There was one of those amusement park roller coaster snapshots. Alone of the foursome, Aryn’s face was frozen in a screaming smile; the rest of the passengers looked terrified.

There were many other pictures, but three truly surprised me. The first was a picture of Aryn and a friend in someone’s bedroom, mooning the photographer. The second was an above shot of Aryn in a bikini top playing cards. She was hiding her cards with her hand and looking up at the photographer with a confident, winning expression on her face. The last photograph was a side shot of her and another girl, kissing in their panties and tee-shirts.

The big takeaway from those three pictures was the stunning fact that Aryn had a really nice body. She hid it well in loose jeans and tee shirts. I would never have guessed that she had cleavage—real cleavage—but that second photograph—the one with the card game—showed it. I would never have guessed that Aryn had curves. The side shot of her kissing the girl demonstrated how her ass rolled out of the top of her thigh in a wonderful curve. The mooning picture gave me a view of an ass that men drool over: round and fleshy, but small and creamy-smooth.

But it was the kissing picture that stunned me the most, and not because of the kiss or because of who she was kissing. It was something hanging off a chair, partially cut off by the edge of the picture. I didn’t know for certain, but my first thought upon noticing it and my last thought upon reflection, was that it was a white strap-on dildo. I would not have bet my life—sometimes we see what we want to believe—but I would have bet $50 on it.

For a fleeting moment, I considered photocopying those pictures, but I returned her binder and her desk back to normal.

Aryn sometimes came by during my plan period. I surreptitiously scanned her body to find signs of what I’d seen in those pictures, but I couldn’t see anything. We talked movies, and she hung out for five or ten minutes. The buzzing warmth returned. I looked forward to those minutes like a smoker to break time.

One day, she came in holding hands with some female student. Aryn had a big smile, announcing that she’d got a job.

“Where?” I asked.

“The Aperture Theater.”

“Is that the art theater, the new one downtown?”

“Yeah.”

I said, “That’s awesome, Aryn. Nice going.” I’d read about the Aperture in the paper. They’d renovated an old single-screen joint in the downtown area. It would show independent first runs and classic films, mostly.

“It’s only part time, though,” Aryn said.

“It’s a job, and it’s a cool job, so who cares? When do you start?”

“This week. I’ll work Thursday through Saturday.”

“Doing what?”

“Selling tickets and helping with closing—clean up and stuff.”

I nodded. “Cool. Congratulations. I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

The other girl never said a word, and the two left together, hand in hand.

As it happened, the Aperture was going to run The Godfather, one of my all time favorites, the following Thursday night. As it was fall and football season, Thursday nights were good for me. Practices were short in preparation for the Friday night games. On the morning of the showing, I mentioned to Aryn that I was going to go.

She asked if the movie was any good.

I pretended to look affronted. “Best gangster film of all time,” I announced.

That night, before I left, I scrutinized myself in the mirror. I was kind of a beast. I was an inch or two shy of six feet tall, but I weighed almost 225 pounds. I worked out every day with weights and I jogged, but I wasn’t cut or defined or anything. I had big, lumpy muscles, and they were almost all covered in curly reddish hair. If I had to keep my face clean shaven, I’d have to do it twice a day. Instead, I just used clippers to maintain a perpetual quarter-inch beard. My ex-wife often called me a “hairy slab of man.”

She and I met in college, both of us in education. She started in secondary, transferred to middle, and graduated out of elementary. We got married, and we both found teaching jobs. She lasted two years and quit. Then, she divorced me. I don’t think she liked it that I was good at teaching and that she sucked. She hated that I was gone all the time in the fall for football season. We had no kids.

I dated a little, but mostly I hit the local bars, and every now and then, took gaziantep arap escort bayan some woman home for a night. There was no ambivalence from them about my body. Women either loved it or hated it.

I had one woman leave my house after I took off my shirt. We were in my bedroom. She looked me up and down, cursed, grabbed her things, and walked out. That one hurt a little. I had others that made up for it, though, virtually attacking me once I undressed.

Either way, I hated my hairy-ass body. I never took my shirt off unless I absolutely had to.

I thought about these things because, even though I would never consciously admit it at the time, I was attracted to Aryn, and I wanted to look half decent at the theater.

It took about 30 minutes to get to the theater, and Aryn was running the ticket counter. She grinned when she saw me, and I bought one ticket from her.

Aryn’s manager stood behind her, and I thanked Aryn profusely for being so professional. I told her that it was the smoothest ticket purchase I’d ever experienced. She winked at me, and I went to the concessions.

I bought a Coke and watched the movie, sitting on the aisle about half way up a theater that seated maybe 150. About 15 others were in there, and I had the row to myself.

Aryn came in and sat beside me about 40 minutes into the film. I gave her a surprised look, and she explained to me that once the box office is locked up for the evening, she’s allowed to watch the movies. I brought her up to speed during one of the few relatively light scenes—Michael and Kay Christmas shopping. She couldn’t have come at a more exciting point, though: Luca Brasi getting garroted, the assassination attempt on the Don, the kidnapping of Tom Hagen.

Every minute or so, she’d ask about a character, but she caught on pretty quickly.

Then, she got to see the scene of all scenes: Michael in the restaurant with Solozzo and McCluskey. When Micheal reached behind the toilet for the gun, I felt Aryn’s fingers grasp my arm just below the wrist. When Michael came out of the bathroom, she gripped it tightly. And during the build up to Michael’s decision to shoot, her fingers clutched at me until I rotated my wrist around, and I held her hand.

Though my eyes were on the screen, I didn’t really watch. I was too absorbed by the feel of our skin together. It was her hand and her fingers, the warmth of them, the delicacy of her touch. Within seconds of contact, I had grown massively, uncomfortably erect.

My arms are lush with coarse, curly red hair. Feeling her little, soft hands embedded in that fur kick-started me. My heart pumped faster. The warmth of her touch spread through me. When we held hands, the feeling was that much stronger.

I got a hard on from holding hands? What the hell was I? Fifteen?

When the scene ended, she let go of me and whispered, “That was so intense.”

We shared the Coke and watched the rest. When the credits rolled, she told me she loved it. We talked about favorite scenes, and she thanked me for coming. At the end of the credits, she had to leave to help with final clean up and shut down. She surprised me by giving me a peck on the cheek.

Driving home, I couldn’t help but think that I’d just gone on a date with one of my students. That’s what it felt like.

I wondered about Aryn. It all could have been very innocent—her sitting beside me, holding onto me, her little kiss on the cheek. But, my instinct told me it wasn’t so chaste.

So, why in the hell was an 18 year old lesbian girl interested in a fuzzy brute like me? By appearances and in reality, I was as far from female as biologically possible. Even if Aryn was bisexual, that frail little underclass thing she was holding hands with in my classroom and I were polar opposites. Her being interested in both of us would be like someone asking for roses and beef jerky for Valentine’s Day.

Regardless, as she was a student and I was her teacher, I decided to back off.

Aryn continued to visit and talk about movies during my plan period, sometimes with her girlfriend, sometimes without. When Aryn came, I was polite and friendly, but I tried to look busy and move around the classroom—wipe off a desk here, fetch a folder there, clean the whiteboard, straighten the rows. I didn’t want to get drunk off her pheromones again, if that’s what it was.

Then came her narrative paper.

I’m not one of those English teachers who splatter red ink all over papers, hand them out, and move on. No. See, what I do is splatter red ink all over papers, hand them out, and then conference, during class time, with every student. I pull a chair around behind my desk, and side by side, we talk about the paper. I don’t put a grade on it until the end of the conference.

Aryn wrote a decent paper for me, and I loved and hated the idea that she was going to sit right beside me for our conference. I put her early on my list to get it out of the way.

When the time arrived, I popped in a breath mint and called her over. For about 30 seconds, I was effective. As we sat together, her left arm kept rubbing against my right. Then, that feeling, like being buzzed off a couple shots of vodka, again spread throughout me. It reduced me to flipping back and forth through the pages of her paper and mumbling about how good it was. And, I got a hard on.

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It’s a little while since I wrote Chapter One. It was written for a ‘real life’ Jane who I’ve lost touch with. Will she read Chapter Two?

I would recommend reading Chapter One before you begin this, as it sets the scene.

*****

Jane lay in bed, exhausted after her first meeting with Rob.

She couldn’t believe that she had gone through with it. In reality, giving herself to a stranger, or, at least, someone she’d met online.

Her whole body ached, but at the same time glowed. Rob had flicked a switch inside her, and she had found a whole new state of mind. Her submissive adventure after work had awakened a sexual time-bomb that had been ticking for so many years.

‘Ping!’ her phone sounded the arrival of a text.

“YOU ARE MINE NOW,” Rob’s message was clear.

Jane’s heart missed a beat, as she typed a reply.

“YES ROB, SIR.”

Rob didn’t text again that evening, and Jane eventually fell asleep with thoughts of their meeting going round and round in her mind. When she awoke it took a few seconds to process why she felt different. But quickly, she recalled the previous evening and was somehow elated that finally she had admitted to herself where her sexual inhibitions, and her sexual aspirations lay.

However, she began to doubt everything, when after another day at work there was no contact from Rob at all. She felt really, really down.

Maybe Tuesday evening was a one off. Another online predator, who had got his gratification, and disappeared.

Jane left work, and went home, and got drunk. Red wine was her anaesthetic of choice.

At 9 o clock, and after a bottle and a half of Shiraz she went to bed.

She awoke gone midnight, wanting the loo.

As she stumbled back to bed, she fumbled with her phone, and noticed some missed calls. In the dark of the bedroom she found it hard to focus, but she saw that Rob’s name was illuminated, and he’d left a voicemail. Her heart leapt.

Jane pressed the voicemail icon, and listened, Rob’s voice was calm, but assertive.

“Good evening Jane. I expect you were waiting for my call.”

Rob sounded patient, but his tone demanded her attention.

“I have decided to take you to the next level. You have showed you have the potential to serve me in a manner that might please me.”

He continued, “I will collect you from Costas next Monday evening at 6pm. You will be out all night. I will text you at the weekend with some specific instructions. But one over riding instruction is that between now and Monday, you must stay celibate. No sex with anyone, or anything. No orgasm is allowed. I will know if you disobey.”

The phone went dead.

Jane felt numb. That voice thrilled her, and the underlying threat sent a shiver down her spine.

As she relaxed back on her bed, still slightly inebriated, she felt the warm feeling between her legs, her damp pussy, wanting her to touch. But she had Rob’s specific instruction in her head.

Jane closed her eyes trying to drift off, but the warm tones of Rob’s voice were seemingly echoing around her bedroom. She imagined him there. She imagined his head between her thighs, and his tongue lapping at her pussy.

In the semi darkness she gave in. Her fingers slipped downwards, and slid between the lips of her pussy. She was dripping wet, and slowly, she circled her clit with her fingertips.

She was at such a heightened state of arousal that almost instantly she started to cum. She cried out and her body convulsed shaking the bed. “Oh God, oh God. I didn’t mean to.”

What was she saying? This was the effect Rob was having on her. She was saying sorry for having an orgasm! But she felt guilty, and was wondering if he would know she had gone back on her promise. And if he did know, what he meant by ‘facing the consequences.’

On Monday she would find out.

The next few days went by at a snail’s pace. She was expecting a text at the weekend, and finally on Sunday afternoon it arrived.

She was shaking as she opened it. It was to the point.

‘You will be coming to my house. Wear your sexiest lingerie. Shave your pubic hair. Bring a change of clothes. Tell your work you may be late in on Tuesday. Be in Costas at 6pm’

That was bayan escort gaziantep it. The die was cast. She was his, and on Monday night she would pass all control to him.

Jane had lived, and re-lived their first meeting. She had picked apart every minute, and every emotion she had felt. She was so alive, but at the same time she was extremely nervous about seeing Rob again.

She still did not know him, but now she knew he would take her home, or at least to a house he said was his home. No one knew she was going with him. She did not even know where he lived.

That Sunday evening she bathed and shaved herself, and then moisturised her whole body. She selected some matching black, lacy knickers, suspender belt and bra, along with some sheer black stockings with black high heels.

The black silk blouse and slim black pencil skirt worked well for work, and the contrast with her blonde hair produced a stunning sexy look. She was going to make an impression.

She packed an overnight bag with a change of clothes, and make up, along with her wash kit. She was ready. Well, perhaps mentally, almost ready.

On Monday morning Jane followed her normal work routine, and left for Costas just before 6pm. At precisely 6pm they both arrived at the coffee shop door at the same time.

“Get a seat Jane, and I’ll get the coffees.” Rob’s voice was calm and friendly.

When he sat down it could have been a normal girlfriend/boyfriend meeting up. He asked how her day had been, and it seemed to settle her nerves. And then he began to explain a little bit about the evening ahead.

“We are going to a house in the country, about thirty minutes drive, it’s a friend’s house, and it’s very secluded, so we won’t be disturbed, or indeed disturb anyone else.”

Jane felt a little shiver run down her spine.

“We will leave in a moment and we won’t start to ‘play,’ until we arrive. are you ok with all that? If you want to leave now you can, but once we arrive, there will be no going back.”

This time it was the hairs on the back of her neck that stood up.

Meekly, she quietly said, “I’m ready Rob, sir.”

Rob led the way to his car, and they set off.

Jane recognised the rough direction in which they were headed, but once they left the main road, and started to drive along country lanes, she lost track of where they were going.

Eventually Rob pulled into a gravel drive in front of a large house. He turned to Jane and said, “Ok young lady, this is where it all starts.”

He opened the glove box, and pulled out a long, black cotton scarf, and proceeded to tie it around Jane’s head.

“Wait there a moment,” Rob said.

She heard him get out of the car, walk round, and open her door. Helping her out, and taking her bag, he gripped her arm, and they walked slowly to the house.

She heard someone open the door, nothing was said, but she was helped by Rob and someone else, into the house, and presumably into a room. It was very warm, and she thought she heard music playing in another room.

Rob spoke first, with a terse instruction. “Get undressed.”

Tentatively, Jane removed her clothes. She knew there was someone else present, and this was confirmed when she heard a soft, “Phew,” as her body was seen naked.

She felt Rob next to her, and he whispered quietly to her. “Not only will you remain blindfolded for this evening, you will also be deprived of any hearing. I’m going to place two small earpieces in your ears. This will block out all sound from around you, and you will be unable to hear your own voice, or anyone else’s. But there will be some sounds played to you at times.”

She felt Rob’s fingers place looped earpieces over, and into her ears. Very quiet, soft music, barely audible, was playing.

And then came the wrist bands, each strapped tightly with a leather buckle, ready to be attached wherever they were needed.

“Oh god,” she muttered, but of course she couldn’t hear her own words.

Next Rob, and whoever the other ‘man’ was, escorted her, presumably into another room. She was pressed backwards against something hard, like a door, but then her arms were lifted at forty five degres, cim cif gaziantep escort bayan and attached by the wrists straps. Similarly, her legs were parted, and her ankles attached, also so that her legs were spread. She felt as vulnerable as she had ever done. She was beginning to regret her situation.

As her brain was trying to process everything, the door, or whatever she was attached to, started to tilt backwards, until she was half lying back at an angle. She had been secured to a wooden frame made in the shape of a cross.

And then nothing happened. It was difficult to judge time because of her senses being deprived, although she still had taste, and smell.

The room smelt musky, perhaps a bit like a cellar, or dungeon. A smell of stale sex, or so she imagined.

Then suddenly a hand rested on her breast. Softly it stroked, first one breast, and then the other. It pinched her nipples gently, but firmly, and then harder. She yelled, but all she could hear was the soft music. The hand swept down across her stomach, and fingers slipped between her legs. They stroked her pussy, which she realised was moist. One finger stroked her clit, and she felt herself groan.

But then she shivered, when another hand clutched her breast, and she became aware that there was more than one person touching her.

Suddenly, there were hands everywhere, there were several people massaging, stroking all parts of her body, right from her feet to her head.

The music in her earpieces changed to sexual sounds, the sounds of moaning, groaning, frantic breathing, of people having orgasms.

She felt her nipples being pulled, and clamps being applied. She cried out, but heard nothing.

A mouth closed over hers, kissing her, a tongue thrusting into her throat. She shook her head, and her face was immediately slapped.

She felt something squirted across her breasts, and then across her face. She imagined it might be semen, but the taste was something actually quite pleasant, tasting like yoghurt. And then she felt something slippery, and warm being poured on her stomach, and then hands massaging it into her skin. It seemed to be like an oil, and had a pleasant perfume.

And then there were many hands again, rubbing the oil everywhere. The frame she was on was tilted further back, until she was lying flat. An oily hand was fingering her pussy, another was releasing the nipple clamps, and stroking her nipples.

In an odd way she had started to relax, but her brain was trying to imagine where she was, and how many people were there.

And then she went cold. Between her thighs she felt a body. Someone had positioned themselves, and was about to fuck her. Even as she let out a silent scream, the cock slid inside her, aided by all of the oil. And the fucking began. Whoever it was, began in a hurry, and within just a few minutes she felt him cumming. Screaming and swearing, she pulled against her bindings. The second man entered her just as she felt another squirt of liquid on her face and breasts. This time there was no question. It was spunk. Someone had masturbated onto her face.

The sound, in her earpieces, of a woman starting to cum made her conscious of herself once again. The second man was thrusting his cock back and forth, and then she felt a vibrator being slid down onto her clit. Within seconds she started to cum. Trying not to make any sound was difficult, when she knew she probably was.

The second guy came, and withdrew. The vibrator continued, actually feeling quite good. And then something hard was pressing against her anus. It seemed to be a second dildo, or something similar. Again the oil made its entry much easier, and then it was suddenly inside, and it was switched on.

Jane had never had anything like this before. She knew she was screaming, but when a third man slid his cock into her pussy it was almost too much. The irony was that both vibrators had the effect of making the man cum straight away.

The vibrators stopped, and the earpieces went back to playing music. The hands disappeared, and Jane’s body relaxed.

She felt the earpieces removed, and although she still couldn’t see, she heard Rob’s cinsel bilgiler voice.

“You’ve done well, little one, but it’s not over yet. This is just a brief respite. You will remain blindfolded, but now you will be able to hear your own screams.”

It went quiet again, until there was the sound of a door opening.

Jane heard male voices, some laughing, and she was mentally preparing herself for more sexual partners. Never had she had more than one partner at a time. Once she had had sex with separate men on the same day, and she thought herself a bit of a tramp for doing that.

Sure enough she felt the presence of the first man between her thighs. She had decided to try and relax, and as the guy pounded away, she felt her orgasm building. For the first time she heard herself moaning, but disappointingly the guy couldn’t hold on, and started to cum. Grunting, he stepped back and was replaced by another. After the brief interruption, Jane came very loudly.

Accompanied by a cheer from those present, she was to cum twice more, before all the guys were spent.

She had no idea of time, but she was exhausted.

Rob reappeared, and she felt him start to unbuckle her wrists and ankle. Still blindfolded, he helped her to her feet. She staggered, and her knees buckled, but supported by Rob she was directed out of the room.

As she took the first few steps, she was aware of drips of semen falling on the floor, and dribbling down her thighs. She was still covered in oil, and she was elated when she felt herself being helped into a shower.

The joy of warm water washing away the evidence of sex was pure luxury. She was still wearing the blindfold which made it difficult to know what was to happen next. She was to find out soon.

Rob supplied her with a fluffy bath towel with which she dried herself. He then escorted her to a room and sat her on a soft bed. And then, bliss, he removed her blindfold. She blinked, thinking there was a problem with her eyesight. It was still black, and she quickly realised that she was in a totally blacked out room.

Rob’s voice said quietly, “Have a sleep, it’s two thirty, I will wake you when you need to complete your task.”

It was obviously not over yet, but at that point Jane didn’t really care, she just wanted to sleep.

She was awakened by a cold draught as someone slipped into the room. It was still black, and as she whispered, “Who’s there?” she heard Rob’s voice from across the room say, “It’s ok,” as the door closed.

And then she felt him get into bed beside her, he was naked, but his warm body comforted her.

She felt much safer now, and her arms looped around his neck as he kissed her softly. Nothing was said.

She felt his hands, and then his lips on her breasts. Her nipples were sore from the clamps, and the constant squeezing and pulling they had been subjected to, but his lips licked softly, and soothingly.

She pushed her body against his, and felt him grow hard. This was lovemaking, not a task which had to be completed for her master.

She pushed him onto his back, and in the darkness rose above him and slid her pussy onto his shaft. He gave a soft sigh, and laid back allowing her to rise and fall on him, one minute grinding down, then slowly lifting, to enjoy the thrust as she fell again.

As she built her orgasm, she became noisier, and at the last second screaming his name loudly, as she came.

She collapsed onto him only to feel his gentle contractions as he quietly came.

A few seconds passed until he slid out of bed.

“Don’t go, please,” said Jane, but there was no immediate reply.

A few seconds later he got back into bed, and whispered, “Well done little one, now hold me.”

Jane was suddenly confused, had the night sent her mad? This was a different man. What had she just done?

She burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. “Who was that? Who was that?”

Jane had just given herself both physically, and mentally to another man thinking it was Rob.

Rob pulled her close, cuddled her. Even as the instigator of all that had happened, he still felt slight pangs of guilt.

The tears continued, but gradually her body calmed, she relaxed, and they both slept.

When they awoke, the night was almost over, Rob asked if she was ready to prepare to go.

She kissed him, and they both opened the door into an ante room, and through another door she saw daylight. Rob showed her to a bathroom, where she found her bag and clothes.

She looked at her face in the mirror, and her reflection made her think. Would she tread this path again?

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It’s kind of a guy thing to sit around discussing hot chicks our ages and their attributes such as big tits or whatever, but believe it or not, there’s a few of us out there that check out the moms too.

Take my friend Kenny’s mom, for example. I’d say the majority of guys would consider Michelle hot with her enhanced 36C tits and hard body, but honestly, she doesn’t really turn me on that much.

Too skinny, for one thing. Any dude that thought with his brains instead of his dick would think twice about boning a woman with no ass, whose hipbones stick out and boobs are silicone. Not to mention Michelle is kind of snobby and thinks all of Kenny’s friends are beneath him.

Me, I dig a natural woman. Women with natural breasts, wide hips, curves all over. A sweet smile and personality don’t hurt either, which all the above are reasons I find my best friend Sean’s mom my definition of hot.

I remember meeting Sean when we were both in tenth grade and he had taken me to his house to meet his folks. His dad had been this gruff looking dude, but Cheri, GOD DAMN.

She had been thirty two at the time, but even then she was a hot looking piece of ass.

Sean’s house was always like Grand Central Station for the most part because Cheri loved having us over, which I didn’t mind at all, because the sight (and thought) of her had given me a hard-on for the next fifteen years.

All I could think about were how often Sean’s parents fucked if not thinking about Cheri totally naked. She was the star of my wet dreams. There wasn’t a night I didn’t rub one out thinking about what it would be like to have sex with her.

Now at age thirty, I was back in the area when I ran into Sean again. I had split with my last girlfriend a few months earlier, but still had a good career that took me all over the world.

Sean had just gotten divorced and had moved back home temporarily while he found another place. I had also found out his folks had also divorced and his dad was shacking up with a twenty five year old waitress.

Poor Cheri, I had thought. A guy would had to have been INSANE to dump a sexy piece like her for some bimbo.

“Hey, instead of wasting money on a hotel, why not stay at Mom’s? She’ll be happy to see you again. You were always her favorite out of all my buddies, and with her and Dad split up, she could use some company while I’m at work.”

It was all I could do to maintain my composure; even so, I wasn’t expecting Cheri to look the same as she had during my teen years when I jacked off to fantasies of doing her.

Nevertheless, I took Sean up on the offer.

———————————————-

You adıyaman escort bayan could almost imagine my surprise when I arrived at the house that afternoon and Cheri had come to the door.

Not only hadn’t she really aged much at all in the last fifteen years, it also appeared that her tits and hips were a little fuller than I remembered.

Even so, it may have turned Sean’s dad off, but it certainly didn’t make Cheri less sexy in my eyes.

“I got a bit fatter,” she laughed. “Middle age spread, you could call it. Tim disappeared once he found a younger, skinnier model.”

I winked at her. “Looks like you spread in the right places, dear lady. And it’s his damn loss.”

“Oh, Brandon,” she said, “you always were good for one’s ego.”

“Cheri, you always were a beautiful woman,” I assured her, “and you have the personality to match.”

“You are just as sweet as always. Let’s get you settled in your room and catch up since Sean won’t be home until later this evening.”

“Works for me,” I nodded.

Cheri had gone off somewhere after we’d gotten to the room where I would be during my stay. It was kind of a good thing she hadn’t stuck around much longer, because looking down now, I was sporting some serious wood between my legs.

I needed a shower eventually anyway, so it was an excuse to get naked and jack off before I did. I hadn’t had a good cum since breaking up with Tammy, and with the Cheri fantasy returning tenfold, well……you know the rest.

In the midst of some good stroking, I hadn’t realized the door was still a bit ajar, and then it had opened. There was Cheri once again.

Mortified of being caught totally nude and masturbating, my hand froze on my cock.

Whatever she’d come in for, it apparently evaporated from her mind once she saw me in that state.

“Need a little help with that?” she purred.

“Um…..” I began.

“I thought so,” she said, not taking her eyes off of me as she moved closer to the bed.

The next thing I knew, Cheri had crept between my legs, leaned forward and began licking the shaft of my cock, flicking her tongue over the head before beginning to engulf the entire eight inches of my throbbing shaft.

It was halfway into her talented mouth when I started practically fucking her face.

They weren’t kidding; older women really COULD suck dick!

Taking her mouth off of my wood for a minute, Cheri swirled her tongue across the head before swallowing the entire thing again. akkent escort bayan

I put my hand on the back of her head and fucked my cock up into her mouth as she sucked me, squeezing and playing with my balls at the same time before sliding a finger slowly up my ass, pumping it in and out in time with her cock sucking.

That did it; I exploded, sending shot after shot of cum down Cheri’s waiting throat.

She swallowed every drop of my load without complaint, licking me clean and then licking her lips when we finished.

“Feel better?” she asked, sitting back on her heels.

“Mmmm, that was one great blow job,” I grinned at her.

“There’s a lot of other things I can do too. I know how horny younger guys can get, and I can do more than suck dick.”

“Oh, I bet you can,” I winked at her.

“So Brandon,” Cheri said, standing up and slowly undressing, “when was the last time you were with someone?”

I had to confess that I hadn’t fucked anyone since breaking up with Tammy after catching the slut with another guy three months ago.

“My goodness, no wonder you needed to get off.”

“Oh, baby, that isn’t the only reason,” I said, pulling her nakedness down on the bed and slapping her bare ass. “I’ve been wanting this for the last fifteen years.”

I then pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss, playing with those beautiful tits and roaming my hand down to her pussy, rubbing her clit as she stroked my dick back to life.

Cheri then broke the kiss, moving down to suck my cock again until I was hard as granite before coming back up to mount me, guiding my cock inside her.

She started riding me slowly at first, and then began speeding up as my pole slid in and out of her.

Cheri cried out as she came, grabbing me as she rode my dick faster and harder, crying out how good it felt to fuck such a young stud, how she hadn’t had sex since her divorce, how horny she’d been, and how good I was satisfying her.

“Ride me, baby,” I gasped. “You are so damn sexy doing that.”

“Brandon….Brandon….mmmmm….you feel so fucking good in me….yesssss. I needed this so much!”

Soon after, we came together, her pussy muscles gripping my cock as it spasmed, shooting my second load of the day into her hot cunt. I pulled her down to me, prolonging the sensation as every drop of cum spilled into her.

Cheri remained on me as my dick softened inside her, then slowly climbed off to collapse beside me.

We must have dozed off for awhile after, because it was close to dusk when I felt her mouth gaziantep anal yapan escort bayan on my cock yet again, waking me.

When I was completely hard once more, she slowly mounted my cock again, bouncing up and down on it, grunting.

Slowly, I was rubbing her clit as I watched Cheri’s tits bounce with every thrust she pushed down on me. The sight of it all made me that much hotter.

“Brandon, I want you to fuck my ass,” Cheri instructed, bringing me out of my trance. “I want you to fuck my ass and cum in it!”

WOW, how many women wanted to have a dick up their ass? Even my whore of an ex-girlfriend wouldn’t do it.

And now here was my wet dream fantasy from my adolescence all but begging me to take her in the back door. Being an ass man, I happily obliged.

I so turned on as we got into a doggie-style position after Cheri handed me some lube she’d gotten out of the bathroom.

I greased up my dick and fingered her tight asshole to prepare her, and, not wanting to hurt Cheri, gradually and slowly pushed my cock into her rear end until I bottomed out.

I started fucking her ass slowly. I had pulled out of her ass only to have Cheri beg me to put it back in her.

Fucking her at a slow, steady pace, I was hearing her grunt faster and faster.

Finding this as my cue, I picked up the pace as she begged for it. I was fucking her round ass harder and faster just as she screamed into the pillow. Cheri had cum.

Hearing this, I fucked her with fury. A few quick hard thrusts and I too was ready to explode.

“Cheri, I’m going to cum!” I called as I was still thrusting in and out.

“Cum for me, Brandon,” she grunted. “Put that cum in my ass NOW!”

The speed of my thrusts increased that much more as I got closer to busting a nut. A few more strokes and I was dumping hot cum deep into the ass of my best friend’s mother.

As I came, my hips slammed against Cheri a few more times before I quickly pulled out of her ass and, turning her over, straddled her body.

“Oh, baby, I want to cum on those tits too,” I panted, shooting the last of my load all over those lovely, full breasts.

We once again collapsed to recover from more great sex before realizing what time it was.

Sean would be home soon, and I doubt he’d want to see his mom in her current state with both holes filled with and her tits covered in the spunk from his best buddy’s dick.

I then hurried into the bathroom to get myself together and put my clothes back on. By the time I’d gotten downstairs, he had arrived home.

Cheri came down about twenty minutes later, showing no outward signs that she’d spent the better part of the afternoon and early evening being fucked in both holes by his longtime best buddy.

She and I would continue having some damn fantastic sex the rest of the week and then again when I came to town.

Sean never did figure out that I fucked his mom that day…..or any day thereafter.

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I was a late bloomer, more obsessed with video games than women. Sure, I jacked off like any other guy but I wasn’t really good at talking to girls and so high school came and went uneventfully. I was still a virgin as I entered college and I didn’t really like it, I just didn’t see any way out of it. Women weren’t exactly lining up to try and fuck me. In fact, I hadn’t even gotten so much as a kiss or a blowjob.

Instead of trying to get out there and make things happen I became even more reclusive, playing more and more video games and doing less and less in life. My parents were starting to bitch at me about moving out and getting a real job since I was already failing out of college. I hadn’t been applying myself in school and it showed. I went to register for classes, mostly to get my parents off of my back about the job thing only to find that there was a hold on my registration.

I called the school, pissed off that I was having to take extra time out of my day to deal with registering. My parents had threatened to kick me out if I failed out of college. I couldn’t deal with actually being responsible and so when the lady on the phone told me I had to come in to speak with a counselor, I was angry but I did it.

The counselor’s name was Erika Zuniga. She was an older blonde lady with a really nice ass. I popped a boner the minute I saw her turn around and walk me to her office. I looked around, hoping that no one had seen my erection and I was lucky everyone was busy doing other things. I managed to get my dick under control as I sat down in the chair across from her desk.

“So, it says here that you have failed all four courses you have taken so far. What’s going on?” Mrs. Zuniga looked at me like she actually gave a shit about me and for the first time in a long time I felt like someone actually did care. It was nice.

“Yeah, I’ve been struggling to get my work done. I don’t have any real reason. Well, video games. I play a lot of those.” I hung my head shamefully but secretly hoped that Mrs. Zuniga would have something that might help me. Maybe she could explain to me why I was being such a loser and tell me how to stop. The truth was, I hated myself. I thought I was a loser and that I didn’t have anything going for me.

“Well, learning how to be responsible for your own education can be difficult,” she explained. “I think I know how to help you if you’re open to making some changes.”

“Yeah! I mean, I want to do well I just feel like I get lazy. I guess I don’t really want to grow up. I’m scared.” I couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of my mouth. Antalya travesti Truth be told, I wasn’t sure why I had said that to her. I hadn’t even told my own family what I had just told her. I guess sometimes telling a stranger seems safer.

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared that I’m behind and I’m never going to catch up.”

“Give me an example.”

I couldn’t think of a single thing and so what came out of my mouth next wasn’t planned. It just slipped out. “Well, I’m a virgin. I haven’t even kissed a girl. I haven’t done oral. I haven’t had sex. I feel like I’m still a kid sometimes, like I’m behind.” I put my head in my hands, not because I was embarrassed, even though I was but because I was telling her the truth. I hadn’t ever said this out loud to anyone but her.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” she began and then stopped when she saw the look on my face.

“I just wish a woman would give me a chance, you know? I’m a nice guy. I want to please women. I want to do good in school. I just feel like they are connected, like if I lost my virginity everything else would fall into place.”

“I think you may be right about that,” Mrs. Zuniga looked thoughtful. She was twirling a lock of her blonde hair on her index finger and tapping her foot nervously. I hoped I hadn’t made her nervous or uncomfortable. I hadn’t meant to do that.

“I know this is weird of me to talk about but I really think that this is the thing holding me back. What do you think I should do?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“Off the record, I’m not your school counselor right now, okay? Off the record, I think you need to look for an older woman.”

“An older woman? Why?” I asked. I hadn’t thought about this.

“Because they are more likely to be willing to give you a chance.”

“I don’t know any older women.”

“How about me?”

“You? You would have sex with me?”

“Well, I’d probably let you eat my pussy just to get you some experience.”

“Holy shit!” I said, my excitement getting the best of me. My cock was so hard it could have cut diamonds. “When?”

“Lock the door. Let’s do this now.”

“Okay,” my voice cracked a bit and I watched as Mrs. Zuniga hiked up her skirt and pulled her panties off. She placed them on her desk in a neat pile and spread her legs.

“Come right here, on your knees. Now, you can’t tell anyone that I did this favor for you. I’m only doing this for you because you said you think it will help you progress in college. If I find out that you aren’t doing well in your classes, İstanbul travesti I won’t let you do this ever again. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed. I was staring at her pussy, which was bald and actually very cute. I guess I hadn’t given much thought to what an older woman’s pussy would look like but this was somehow better than I had expected. I wasn’t sure what to do and so I touched her pussy with one of my fingers and tried to part the lips. I compared her pussy to the hundreds of porn stars that I had watched. Why hadn’t I watched more pussy eating videos?

I had no clue what I was doing as I bent down and gently licked the folds of her pussy. I looked up at her and she smiled down at me expectantly.

“Lick it, Brody.”

“Okay,” I agreed and I began to lash my tongue against her pussy with quick thrusts that I imagined would feel good.

“No, no, no! Try going slower,” she coached me. “Start here and then lick this way,” she indicated with her finger. I followed her directions and I could instantly feel the difference. She was responding to me now. I added my tongue on what I thought was her clit but I couldn’t be sure. I was scared. I didn’t want to be that guy that was hammering his tongue on the wrong spot. I wiggled my tongue around a bit, hoping to catch the spot that made her pussy feel good. I felt like I was failing.

“Maybe we should try me sitting on your face,” she suggested and I was relieved. I couldn’t fuck this up if she was rubbing her pussy on me. Could I? I was still on my knees as she queened me. I could taste her unique and delicious taste as she descended upon my mouth with her perfect pussy. My guidance counselor rode my face, working her flesh over the contours of my face to get herself off.

Nothing in my life had been quite this amazing. She was panting and trying her best not to make any noise as I straightened my tongue out and let her glide over it with her clit. I could see where her clit was now as she massaged herself with my tongue. I let her use me how she needed to until she had cum hard. I could feel her legs shaking as she collapsed back into her office chair.

“That was great!”

“I’m not done!” I parted her legs and with more confidence this time, I buried my face into her pussy. My fingers found her hole and I worked them inside as my tongue focused on the sensitivity of her clitoris. I was happy I had figured out where it was so I could rock her world. I wiggled my tongue on her clit a bit and she seemed to like that but I wanted to try and suck on it as I’d seen in porn. I tried so hard to get that little İzmir travesti bead of flesh into my mouth, but it wasn’t easy. I finally had it and I began to suck.

“Holy shit! Oh my God!” Mrs. Zuniga was being much too loud. The counseling offices were tiny and you could easily hear what was happening in the adjacent offices. I didn’t want her to get in trouble but I did want her to finish her orgasm and so I kept going until I could tell that she couldn’t handle anymore. I pulled my mouth from her pussy and wiped her juices from my face with the back of my hand.

“You were being a bit too noisy,” I informed her.

“You sure that was your first time eating pussy?” she asked.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve watched porn and stuff but that was my first time.”

“How would you like to do it again sometime?” she asked.

“For real? I’d love that!”

“Maybe we can even work our way up to sex too if I know I can trust you.”

“You can trust me.”

“I’ll tell you what? I’ll lift your hold on your registration if you promise to eat me out once a week.”

“Okay!”

“You also have to pass the classes you enroll in this term. If you don’t, you will be kicked out of the college and that means no more pussy from me. Do you understand?”

“So what you’re saying is that if I don’t pass my classes I don’t get to have sex with you anymore?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You understand, Brody?”

“Yeah! I understand. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t. I have another appointment waiting but do you think you could do that thing where you suck on my clit one last time?”

“Yeah, I can.” I got down on my knees and I gave Mrs. Zuniga another orgasm.

That semester was a turning point for me. I stopped by the counseling office more than once a week to get Mrs. Zuniga off. Eventually, she let me start fucking her and she even let me fuck her in the ass sometimes. She gave amazing blowjobs that I’ll never forget and I actually started passing my classes. By the time I graduated, Mrs. Zuniga and I were familiar lovers. I found out that she was married and that I was just a little fun she enjoyed on the side.

I didn’t mind being her side fun. In fact, eating Mrs. Zuniga’s pussy saved my life. Before her pussy, I had been a loser with no direction. I had been failing out of college and giving up on life. After eating her pussy, I had a purpose. Having a pussy to lick and fuck was the real game-changer for me and that’s the only reason I am where I am today. Today I am a successful accountant and I’m also an amazing pussy eater. My wife thinks I’m awesome at eating pussy and I’m pretty sure it’s the main reason she married me. We have two kids together and who knows if they would even have been born if Mrs. Zuniga hadn’t taken a special interest in me. I’ll never forget her sweet pussy and how eating it saved me.

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

Leading up to my husbands fortieth had us going through the adult related magazines to find whether there was something he might like to have tried. I was really looking more at the adult holidays or at most the Hedonistic hotels in abundance down in the mountains of southern France.

He soon got bored looking at those and would inevitably end up looking in the swinging columns to see if he had overlooked any from the previous evening, the evening before, as it seems to be his main ambition in life. Almost under pressure from me, we did agree to look into one of these hotels and so emailed the address for details.

Their website did look an exiting place to be, a veranda next to a heated pool where couples were lying around sunning themselves before Boris and Carol would serve up the dinner before the fun and games started in the main bar at around nine.

I think he was ready to go for it, even though the array of beautiful bodies there were more than likely all paid stand-ins for the promotional photo shoot. Being a very small hotel with only four bedrooms each consisting of two king-size beds mind you had us a little concerned. Why, well because as a footnote Boris and Carol stated that even if no one else were there the week we travelled then they would gladly be available for us.

That had Dave looking at me in disbelief when seeing a picture of Carol, as she must have been all of sixty something, Boris wasn’t any younger either and so doubts quickly entered into my head of Boris climbing on top of me because of the lack of other guests.

With that idea crossed off his birthday list, I was becoming stuck for original ideas for him. A party with all his friends, perhaps a special box at his favourite football team maybe. If he were a fan of Leeds, then maybe, however, he is a Chelsea supporter and I’d need more money than the yearly wage bill to cover a box there, so that was out.

Sod it, void of ideas we were swapping with a couple to whom I knew Dave had special feeling’s towards and so organised a birthday meal out and hopefully a nice evening in their arms, and beds. That would be a treat for me anyway, so that way we all get a special birthday present.

Coming up to that weekend life was pretty much normal, it is always a little hectic as I for one needed to shop and get myself looking good for George and Mildred. The first I heard of any change was when Mildred phoned me feeling sorry because of the virus Dave had picked up just days before his birthday. We had both played that card before, as it was a reason for one or both of us to chicken out on meeting a couple for a number of reasons. Therefore I was quick to stay silent and feel concerned for poor Dave as his birthday was only days away.

I had arranged the hairdresser, my outfit hanging on the wardrobe door yet as far as I knew then he had cancelled his treat for some unknown reason. Knowing I was due an explanation, he arrived home from work, tired and hot and a shrug of his shoulders being enough of an answer for me.

Later on, dinner all finished and both of us relaxed listening to some music, I did not complain or argue any, but simply told him that all efforts for a birthday treat had faded and that it was just the two of us now. Not giving anything away, lovingly, he pulled me towards him, without a care in the world; I nestled in his nape while he combed my hair gently with his fingers. Feeling relaxed, I did become conscious that something was on his mind though and taken aback when he said that as a birthday treat then he wanted me to do a threesome.

With our numerous adverts in the contact magazines, we had hundreds, if not thousands of replies from single people wanting a threesome. Dave didn’t even reply to them, simply tore up their advert and threw it away in the bin. Therefore, I was surprised, a bit unhappy that after so long he finally wanted to see me fuck with someone else.

It was his birthday, to that day I had never refused him anything and wasn’t going to start then. Getting the place ready for our guest on the evening, I didn’t know what he would want or what he would be like. There was one thing I knew of Dave though, which was, that he would never have liked to see me abused, or do anything that I was truly against doing.

With the lounge ready, a quilt conveniently hidden away in case he wanted to do it in the lounge, the bed had clean sheets also, just in case. He was showered, dressed and enjoying the buffet I put on for them when it was time for me to go shower and get myself ready.

If nothing else, I knew I felt good in myself and although a little tartish in my micro dress, I had heard the doorbell go a while back and knew our guest had arrived. Excited now, ready, looking and feeling good in myself, I took a large breath and slowly walked down into the lounge.

My tummy was knotting up in expectations, my steps unsteady while taking a last look in the hallway Ankara travesti mirror before taking a deep breath and knocking on the lounge door. He had always wanted me to be fucked by a big black man, and would ask me what it would feel like when sex was a talkative point rather than a physical one.

As I knocked on the door I had a vision of this black man we befriended by mail, he was a lovely looking guy and had a cock that put Dave’s to shame. That was the closest we ever got to having a threesome as Dave really did get close to inviting him over.

You can imagine the shock on my face when sitting on the couch with Dave was a thirty something pretty woman. Dressed not unlike me but looking much neater, unlike me, full of confidence, she did not wait for Dave to introduce us. Standing, approaching me, she sucked all the air from my lungs as she kissed me passionately on my unsuspecting lips.

Ignoring Dave as though he didn’t exist she held me by my shoulders, her eyes looked me up and down making me feel uneasy until another passionate kiss on my lips had my knees buckling below me and my sexuality hitting a peek in one.

With him sitting calmly on the settee I had Helga, her name was, guide me over to the settee where Dave was seated. As my bum hit the settee then she had my tits out of my halter necked dress before I could refuse her and was suckling on them making me reach out to Dave for help.

This was supposed to be his birthday treat as I watched her expertly suckle each of my nipples in her mouth so as to send exciting feelings throughout my body. With one of her hands lifting the hem of the black silk of my dress I was able to look down and feel her fingers trace over the silk of my new white panties. Ignoring her advances, I needed to take a deep breath, what with those exquisite feeling’s her lips were doing to me I could see her painted nails draw an obvious line between my parted labium as I let out an uncontrollable sigh towards Dave.

Not letting me grope at his cock, he was very calm watching her excite me as by now all inhibitions had left me with an arm encircling her head and grasping tightly at her hair. Was it me or was it her, I would never know, still holding onto the back of her head it was lowered downwards until I felt the gusset of my panties being parted.

Feeling my moisture sticking to the nylon then I was aware of me being moist and could already sense my pungent aromas as embarrassed, I felt her tongue explore me. I had one leg over Dave by this time; he still seemed to remain voyeuristic and not join in. Feeling Helga’s fingers open me wide though and her tongue slide so effortless into my body, he watched, as did I, as my body trembled in either fear or anticipation.

Still unaware of the circumstances, I left her alone and hugging Dave, we kissed passionately while distracted by Helga’s frequent probing below us. I was in two places at the same time as she started to excite, unable to concentrate on Dave I pulled my lips from him so as to revel in the delights she was giving me. He told me later that I had the fear of god written on my face, as my breathing quickly became a breathless panting. With my mouth dry and becoming light-headed, I closed my eyes, looking away from Dave, unashamedly taking hold of Helga tightly so as to pull her deeply into me.

I climaxed uncontrollably from the attention she had given me; still trying to kiss and be close to Dave I suddenly had my hands on her hair, enjoying the orgasm alone which she was expertly producing me. Holding her face into my body, trembling with excitement, I let out a loud sigh for the first time in ages, an exaggerated sound that had Helga realising I wanted her to stop.

Slowing down to a stop I had no thoughts of her as I imagined what a mess I must have looked. Staring up at the ceiling, my head resting over the arm of the settee, he still had hold of one leg while the other draped tiredly on to the floor. Feeling my breasts clasped together by her hands she lightly kissed each nipple before resting a hand beneath my head for support. Lifting me, I looked at her face, the last time I had seen it then it was tidy and made up. That had gone as her hair, knotted in perspiration; her lipstick had vanished and no doubt left around my vagina. Her face, wet with my body fluids as she put her lips to mine. All I was able to taste were the aroma of my body as we kissed and our parted lips were an invitation for her to slide her tongue into my mouth.

I needed and wanted to give Dave his birthday present at that second in time and while kissing Helga I tried to guide Dave’s body towards my open thighs. Helga hadn’t began yet though as I was soon to find out.

Giving me at least some respite, stopping kissing, she pulled me up onto the settee. He was grinning at me, I must have looked a mess also, I could feel my boobs still out and exposed around the thin material Konya travesti of my dress and made no attempt to cover the lower half of me as she started to try and build some more enthusiasm in me. Offering me her wine glass I gratefully took a gulp of it if only to quench my thirst. She had ignored Dave all the time I was there and did still, asking whether I wanted to dance to the music he had put on before I arrived. Again hesitating, she whispered, with Dave listening in, how he would love to watch us dance.

Sexually, I had never been as close to a woman feeling her erect nipples on mine, while her knee kept lifting between my parted thighs to gyrate on my excited pussy. Relaxed now, I knew Dave was loving every second as we had stopped dancing and simply facing each other, as she was asking me things I’d like to do to give Dave that special birthday present.

I knew what she would have said; I knew also, what Dave would have said, yet to say it allowed was something I could never have done. Her hands, her body, and her lips were becoming increasingly intimate with me now as I found my hands also wanting to caress and please her. She was lovely, kind also, and although seemingly ignoring Dave completely she was however trying to excite him with her advances towards me.

As I loosely held onto her waist with both hands, the sensitivity of my pussy was enough to feel the difference between her skin, and the sheer nylon of her hold-ups as her leg rubbed intimately up and down the insides of my thighs. Holding the sides of my head with her hands, she was tenderly laying kisses on my cheeks, neck and lips. Tasting my intimate juices on her face, she held me firmly by each of her hands while her tongue entered provocatively into my open mouth. Closing my lips on her, my thighs also had grasped hold of her leg.

Wanting, needing to climax once more, I could feel my face again redden under the heat she was producing inside my body. With the music suddenly ending, the room was silent, broken only by the shallow sighs I was producing for her.

“Can I make love to you Pat,” Helga whispered, completely unexpectedly. With the room silent, I knew Dave was able to hear her ask. Confused, I did not answer her, yet not doing so seemed to be a positive reply in her eyes. Guiding me over towards Dave and the settee, she lowered me down next to him once more. Leaving me momentarily and going to her handbag, she produced an enormous flesh coloured dildo. It must have made him look on jealously as I said something to break the heavy atmosphere we had generated between us all in the room.

It was heavy, hard and wrinkled like a perfect cock as she let me handle it. I felt ashamed in front of my husband as I had both my hands firmly around the phallic object and still room; I took some of it into my mouth. Helga was standing in front of me, holding onto some elasticised strings attached to this wonderful object. Until this time, she had been fully dressed but leaving me to fondle the giant cock alone, she rid herself of the simple summer dress she had on. I could hear a purring noise at the side of me and knew he would have loved to have the chance of going with her. Shocked even more, when her skimpy knickers came off to reveal a shaven and exquisitely formed genital region.

Looking over towards Dave, she took the big cock from my tight grasp and watching her part her sex lips she ran it along her slightly parted legs. Talking to Dave yet looking into my wide-open eyes, I could see the moisture glisten on this cock as she told him that she would be his birthday gift if I would agree. I knew I’d be banished to the back bedroom if I’d have said no as once more, taking the large cock from my grasp we both watched on as she slipped the elasticised strings around her body. All of a sudden, that large rubber cock looked threatening, as it stood erect, hard, and sticking out proud from her body.

Knowing I wasn’t going to get Dave, I was relieved in a way when she had me rest my head into Dave’s lap. With my legs wide open and awaiting her attention, I watched with nervous anticipation as that phallic object probed at my eager pussy. With Dave cupping my boobs in his hands I was able to feel his hard cock poking at the side of my head. Helga was staring down into my eyes, a wry grin on her face as I took a sharp gulp of air as her plastic slid easily into my wetness.

With every ripple of that cock heightening the feelings inside me, kissing Dave became secondary as I reached out with my hands for Helga to give me guidance. Knowing that cock was sliding the length of it inside me, she lowered herself down to my face. We kissed, feverishly as my dry mouth tasted her saliva, still drenched in my juices while her tongue explored deep inside me. Hugging her head with my arms, I was able to feel her hands clasp at my thighs and lift my legs from the floor.

I was wrapped around her body, my arms and İzmir travesti thighs holding tightly onto her as she continued to fuck me. Feeling her fingers gripping firmly at my thighs now, she was whispering to me, Dave could hear no doubt as she was asking me lovingly and calmly to orgasm for her. Still practically ignoring Dave, I could feel that large cock, dampened with my juices now; slide increasingly faster in and out of me. Each time deep inside then Helga would whisper something to me. Deliberately preventing me from climaxing and able to feel every inch of that solid object inside me, she was asking me whether her tongue felt as satisfying as the dildo.

Unable to control the feelings her tongue gave me I told her that, as once more I felt my muscles contract on the hard cock as it slid from my wet body. Expecting to have the air pushed from my lungs again, I was mistaken though as she seemed to leave me alone once more. Dave was kissing me this time, his hands cupping my boobs with his fingers caressing my excited nipples.

Squirming in pleasure now, my legs still spread wide with Helga’s help. Dave was getting me high with the sensation of my boobs sending telltale signs to my head. At the same time, I felt Helga’s soft lips kiss my inner thighs, softly and intimately with her fingers opening my labium widely. Expecting her tongue inside me, I was mistaken as it gently flicked at my hardened clitoris. Ready to push her away, my hand instinctively gripped hold of her face. I was able to push her off, however the lightness of her tongue flickering over my clitoris had me ignoring Dave and screaming to her for more. Feeling it sucked into her mouth, held there while her tongue excited it more was too much for me Ignoring them both she quickly brought me off once more. That time was as intense as I had ever known and needed to pull at Helga’s hair to get her off me.

My face had overheated, my body too, yet she gave me no time to recover as that plastic cock slid straight back into me. Not fucking me with it though, it was motionless deep inside as once more I was to taste my body from her tongue and lips.

“I am sure Dave would love for you to prepare me for him,” Helga whispered. Unwilling to answer I was laid flat on the settee as she unhooked the plastic cock from her body, still embedded deeply inside me; she manoeuvred herself above my face. Only inches from the gaze of Dave, she lowered herself onto me. With her hands, she held the phallic cock and slowly pushed it in and out of my tired body. It still felt lovely though as did the response of her, as my tongue searched out her open sex lips. Any nervousness was quickly unfounded when my tongue entered into her making her body react so violently. I was enjoying pleasing her, able to see Dave’s glare helped, and felt as though I hadn’t finished before hearing her climax above me

Lying there alone, Helga was standing now, that cock still embedded in me though. I felt good then when both Dave and Helga, close to me, and both looking as though I had pleased them. No rest from that busy cock, she started to fuck me with it, kissing me once more and asking me to climax just one more time.

I did, as the heat produced by all three of us nearly had me pass out feeling my muscles gripping tenderly to that giant phallic cock. It was deep inside me now, not moving as Helga pulled some hair from my wet face and gently kissing me now, asked whether I had enjoyed myself. Still unable to breathe, let alone talk, I nodded to her as I felt that cock leave me for the last time.

Leaving me alone I lay collecting my breath, realising Dave wasn’t to be seen Helga was suddenly above me once more. Naked now, no cock between her legs, she had a knee either side of my waist. Her elbows at the side of my face as she bent down to kiss me once more. I had calmed down by then, still hot with the close attention she was giving me though, sore, knowing that large cock was going to leave me aching the day after. Happy though kissing with Helga, I felt her face change from a relaxed mode to one of pain. Dave was inside her, her body now being slowly pushed forward above me. Lovingly I reached a hand out high into the air and felt good when Dave’s hand gripped hold of it. The attention from Helga meant nothing now to me; my hand had wrapped itself around his back while I willed him on silently to orgasm for me.

He was loving the situation, whether Helga was, I wasn’t sure. Hearing him tense up above us both though, I was able to hear those telltale sounds of him coming deeply inside her.

As quickly as he started then it was over, I could see him standing besides us cleaning himself with some tissues. Helga didn’t get close to climaxing with Dave, I had, Dave had and that was all that mattered. We looked at each other and were almost glad when suggesting she used the bathroom and then wanted to leave. When she came back down, dressed and tided up, Dave was laying beside me on the settee. Ignoring Dave completely, she stroked my face, lovingly kissed me while asking when my birthday was.

That was a long way off, I told her yet there was nothing in the rulebook to say I could not have a birthday whenever I wanted…

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One of the favorite memories of my youth is of weekends spent at our family cottage. It was located on a large lake with the only access being by boat from a marina five miles distant. The cottage was self-serviced except for TV and telephone. Going there was like going back in time and although the town where we lived was relatively small in size, it was still civilization. Friday evening could not come soon enough for us to pack up and leave for the lake.

The cottage was located on a bay that provided protection from the sometimes-rough conditions of the main body of the lake. The bay was crescent shaped and over a mile in length, mostly beach with occasional rock outcroppings splitting the beach into shorter sections. Our lots were large and the cottages screened from each other by trees but visible from the beach or docks.

One of the rock outcroppings separated our beach from our neighbors. They were a Finnish family, the parents were immigrants but the kids born and raised with us. Being of Finnish origin, a cottage for them would not have been complete without a sauna, and they had built one on the rock outcropping separating our beaches. Deeper water off the rock allowed them to leave the sauna and jump directly into the lake, winter or summer.

We became weekend friends with the family who made the sauna available to us. Our family did not use it a lot, and my mother would not permit us to join them. They did it naked you see, but admittedly only after dark. I yearned to join them. They had a very beautiful daughter Anna who I worshiped through my teenage years, but never had the courage to date.

At any rate I had left home for college and then found work on the other side of the country. I had not been to the lake for over five years. I returned home on one occasion for a two-week vacation and decided to spend a few days at the lake during mid-week. The kids would be in school and I virtually alone in the bay for several days, just the way I wanted it. It was mid-September; the days were quite warm and the nights very cool. Perfect conditions as far as I was concerned. A walleye run was on and I planned to spend most of my daylight hours fishing from our boat.

I came provisioned for at least a month and was full of excitement as I pulled into our dock. I sat back in the seat of the boat and looked up at the cottage, unchanged for many years. It was built up on a slope rising from the beach and framed by a stand of birch trees, the leaves now turning yellow with the arrival of fall.

As I began to unload the boat I glanced down the beach. As I expected there were very few boats tied to docks so I seemed assured of a quiet few days. The neighbor’s dock was also empty and I presumed that they were not present. I continued to work away moving back and forth to the cottage with supplies and was surprised to hear, “Hi there Jim, it’s been a while!”

I looked up to see Valma, the wife and mother of the Finnish neighbors, waving at me from the deck of their cottage. Although Finnish born she had acclimatized to our way of life and retained only a slight accent. She had always seemed to be in the background in my earlier life, working away and keeping things in order. Her husband Peter drank a lot but she was able to steer him on the straight and narrow along with her two exuberant trouble-seeking sons.

I waved back and shouted, “Good seeing you Mrs. Niemi, will be over after I finish here, where is everyone?” I gestured towards the empty dock.

She replied, “Peter had to go back to work, the boat’s at the landing in case he can get free to return before Friday.” She looked great, I had always thought her quite pretty but my carnal thoughts had always been focused on her daughter Anna. She leaned ahead on the railing as we exchanged words, bunching her breasts forward to the point I was hoping one might pop out. “Come over when you are free.” She returned into her cottage.

I busied away, started the gen-set, pumped water to our storage tank and generally cleaned the place up. It was no longer used regularly and there was a musty smell to air out and beer to get cold in the propane fridge. It was late afternoon by now and I decided to put off fishing until tomorrow. I grabbed a beer and walked over to chat with Valma.

She must have been watching for me because she came out on the deck as I approached. I guessed her age at somewhere between 45 and 50 and she looked stunning. She was a blond with blue eyes and was wearing a blouse with plunging neckline along with cut-off jean shorts, reminding me of Daisy Mae in the Lil Abner comic strip. This was a different looking woman from five years ago. She had changed from the harried mother and wife to a very attractive woman. She looked reborn, being freed from the daily worries about her rambunctious children looked good on her.

“My goodness Mrs. Niemi, you look radiant, you must be living a good life.” We brushed cheeks as we shook hands.

She blushed a little, Ankara travesti her pale blue eyes sparkling as she murmured, “So do you Jim, you are a man now, no longer a pain in the butt peeking at us coming out of the sauna. And please, call me Valma.”

We both laughed and I replied, “Well, nakedness was sort of new to me, and my mother would never let us join all of you. And besides, I never did see much in the dark.”

She said, “I know, I know, it was not such a big deal for we Finns, it was part of life in the old country, but we soon realized that being naked meant different things here. Well, some different things anyway.”

We moved on, bringing each other up to date on our lives and families. She invited me to have dinner with her, but I begged off stating that I still had things to do at the cottage. As we parted she said, “I’ll start up the sauna, you can join me if you like. I’ll be Finnish style, but you are free to do it your way.” She laughed in a manner that suggested she did not believe I would accept her invitation.

But I replied, “Love to, always wanted to be a Finn.”

I think that my reply surprised her but she continued, “It’ll be ready by sundown, just come on in when you want to.” A pause and then, “You don’t have to come as a Finn you know.” But she was smiling and my thought was that she was hoping that I would come exactly that way.

The strange encounter unsettled me and I could not quite believe that I might soon be naked with Valma, my neighbor, mother of my teenage friends; and even more so, the wife of big Pete the Finn. I busied myself with straightening things in the cottage and making a meal. She had to be kidding. I was sure she would not be naked in the sauna. I continued to argue with myself while peering out down the beach for any signs of her. There was heat emitting from the small stack indicating the propane burner was indeed heating the sauna stones inside.

I cancelled my plan to go fishing in the late evening, too many things to do, too many thoughts of what might happen later. If I did go in naked, could I keep it down? I mean, sitting beside this naked woman could only have one affect on me. I would get hard. What would she think? Surely when the Finns were all naked in the sauna, the males did not have hard-ons.

And why was Valma acting so out of character? She had always been pleasant but had never ventured any particular warmth towards me, or anyone else. She had never been in the least flirtatious with other men that I could recall. And she had never dressed in plunging necklines and tight to the ass jean shorts. Damn she looked good as the vision of her tits almost popping out of her bra flashed back to my mind. And the way the tight jean shorts barely covered the bottom of her ass cheeks fueled my fantasies. Stop it; contain yourself, your mind runs faster than events. I took a deep breath.

The sun was below the horizon as darkness settled in creating a reddish glow over the tops of the trees on the other side of the lake. I went back and forth to the window to see if Valma really would make an appearance. And then, a voice from the dusk, “Jim, I’m going in now, join me when you’re ready.”

I raced back to the window to catch a glimpse of her standing in front of the entry portal. She was wearing a white robe. God, would she be naked under that robe? Did I really want her to be naked when I got there? Damn right. I was wearing a tee shirt and shorts. I slipped on my flip-flops and hurried over, shivering slightly either from the cool air or anticipation.

There is a little vestibule inside the first door to the sauna. One removed their outer clothes before entering the second door into the heating compartment. Ah God, her white robe was hung there, but she could have something light underneath; a bathing suit, bra and panties, or of course she could be naked like a Finn.

I stripped off my tee shirt, paused and pushed down my shorts. Good, at least I was not hard, what the hell, be brave. I opened the door and entered the steamy interior made more mysterious by the light from a yellow bulb bringing to mind old movie scenes of opium dens in the Far East.

Valma was sitting at the end of the lower bench. She was naked as hell while shielding her tits with one arm. I was holding a protective hand in front of my cock as well. It was obvious that we could not hold these positions all night and as soon as her arm came down, I lifted my hand. Still not hard, good, but I had the feeling that it would not be too long in developing.

I moved closer to her, she was smiling, “Glad you came,” she said, “It would have been a lonely sauna without you.” I looked down at her tits, damn big ones; they hung like gourds and had long nipples jutting out like the tips of fingers.

She smiled at me when I looked back up at her, “Might as well get used to it, I like you looking at them.” There is little pretense about Finnish people and usually Konya travesti what you see or hear is what you get. As if reminding herself of my nakedness, she slowly lowered her eyes down my chest and belly to my cock that was now squirming and expanding as the blood flooded in. Her eyes lingered before she said, “I hope you don’t mind me looking at you, you have a beautiful body.” Her eyes went back to my cock.

To this point, I had not murmured word one except possibly for a ‘hello’ that I may have uttered on entry. What the hell does one say to a naked woman whom you don’t know all that well, and who you are thinking about fucking but shouldn’t be? Finally I gasped out a few words, “You are very beautiful Valma, and I have thought of little else since this afternoon.” I looked back down at her tits.

She got up, turned away from me as she bent to to scoop some water with a dipper from a pail and toss it on the hot rocks. Steam flew up and the increase in temperature was almost immediate. The sweat was running down my face and off my chin. I stared at her ass cheeks before she turned and confronted me with the V of her legs and belly; her mound covered by her large trimmed bush. She smiled at me as she settled back down a little closer to me, “What did you say?” she asked.

I had muttered something under my breath, and she had caught it so I responded with a sheepish grin, “I said ‘oh fuck’ when I saw your pussy.”

She laughed loudly, “Oh that’s good, you can look all you want, just don’t count on getting any.”

I was okay with that; this was away more pleasure than I had ever imagined having at the cottage. And it was a start. I was not exactly a virgin and knew from experience that a ‘start’ could provide big dividends where sex was concerned. She was looking at me after all, she must enjoy what she was seeing and she was certainly in a receptive mood.

I sensed that she was open to suggestive chat and while looking deliberately at her tits I grinned, “Well, maybe no pussy, but will I be able to touch anything else?”

Quite frankly I could not really figure what she was about. This was a very different lady than the one I remembered from my youth. Her demeanor was teasing and provocative as she glanced down at my quite stiff cock, “Who knows, I suppose it could happen,” and she slipped one hand along the steamy bench between us, as if anxious to touch me.

We had entered an area of discussion for which we had not prepared and she became cautious, withdrawing her hand then just inches from my hip.

She said in a serious voice, “This was spur of the moment Jim. The thought to do this only occurred as we chatted today. My outlook on life has changed since the kids left home and suddenly I realize that I have not lived a full life. Peter and I married at sixteen. We were each the first lovers of the other. I have never had another man, but have been wondering what I might have missed. I’m sorry if I have been a tease to you, I simply wanted to see what it was like to be close and intimate with someone different.”

I replied, “Don’t be sorry, I am thrilled to be here with you, believe me. I will have no regrets no matter which way things go.” I was trying to sound noble and did mean most of what I had uttered, but to be honest I was sure now that we would fuck and I would be really stressed if we did not.

I reached over as she turned to me and took a long nipple between my fingers, rolling and squeezing it gently. She closed her eyes as I lifted the other tit in my hand and repeated feeling and squeezing that nipple. “My God,” I groaned, “I have never seen or felt nipples like yours, I want to suck them.”

Her eyes were still closed as she pulled my head down to the hot sweaty valley between her tits. She trembled as she reached between us and clasped my rigid cock in her hand. I moved my mouth from one long nipple to the other, progressively sucking in more and more each time, pinching my lips tight on them, pulling them out from her chest and releasing them. She used the shaking tip of a finger to circle my knob, oh so gently, teasing the little hole, running it down the base of my cock and back up in a hot suggestive manner.

We remained like this for some minutes. The only sounds were the hissing of the hot rocks providing a background for our heavy breathing and moans of pleasure. A sauna is heavily insulated and all outside sounds are completely dulled, magnifying those from the interior.

She pushed back from me and licked her lips as if savoring the feelings and senses we had aroused in each other. But I could tell that she was wavering like the dog that caught the car and did not know what to do with it. She was probably worried that she had allowed things to progress this far.

I pushed her legs open and moved my hand up her inner thigh from the knee to her pussy. I could feel the hot dampness of her slit on the lead edge of my hand. She moaned, “Jim, I don’t know. İzmir travesti I’ve never been with another man.” But she spread more and covered my hand with hers as I slowly moved my fingertips back and forth along the length of the slit. I bent and captured a nipple between my lips. She cupped my head, holding it while I inhaled the nipple deep into my mouth.

I figured that I was home free until she stiffened and lifted my hand from between her legs and whispered in my ear, “Can we take a break? Let’s cool off in the lake first, and then see what happens.”

I whispered back, “Alright Valma, no problem, a swim it is.” But just to remind her what the next step would have been, I pushed two fingers into her pussy and fingered her gently but deeply. She arched her back towards me, almost crying, but then gripped my hand and pulled my fingers free.

We were both breathing heavily as we exited the sauna. She moved out onto the walkway over the water and jumped in. I could see her breasts flailing in the starlight as she disappeared into the black waters. I jumped in to one side of her. We broke surface together and without pausing we joined as one as the lake water gradually cooled our overheated bodies.

We kissed. It was actually our first kiss after touching and sucking each other for some half hour. Her big tits crushed each side of my chest, the hard nipples scratching my skin. Her legs spread and my cock moved between them without any deliberate effort on my part. We worked our way over to the beach and crawled out to lie in the sand, she on top of me as we clutched and kissed and fondled.

She pushed up to her extended arms allowing her nipples to graze my chest. I could feel the curly hairs on her bush rubbing along the bottom of my cock now squashed up along my belly. She looked determined as she whispered, “Go to your bed, wait for me, I must prepare for this, I will come to you quickly.” Her Finnish accent returned more strongly with these words, obviously she was dealing with some stress. She pushed to her feet and climbed back to the sauna to grab her robe and return to her cottage.

I was no longer certain that I was going to get laid although it would not be the first time that I had experienced rejection at a similar point. I returned to the sauna to recover my shorts and tee shirt and ambled off to my cottage. I toweled off in front of the window, watching to see if my neighbor would return. After a few minutes, I crawled naked onto my bed as per instructions. Amazingly, I was still hard. I considered getting off but did not want to spoil the possible return of my middle-aged lover.

I lay still on the bed after turning on a propane light located in the corner of my room. I heard nothing until the beaded curtains of my doorway clicked and parted and Valma was suddenly in the room with me. She wore a sheer robe, barely concealing a soft white bra and small lace trimmed panties. I lay there mesmerized at her beauty. She leaned over me, her breasts hanging down as her lips found mine. She smelled great, just the right amount of scent had been applied to make her even more alluring.

“If you still want me, I am yours tonight.” Her tongue slithered into my mouth as my one hand fondled a breast and the other slipped down her side to her hip and ass.

She straightened up and untied the robe, allowing it to fall to the floor. “Jim, if you desire me, you must say it in words, please.” She was sounding formal and foreign and it took me a minute to understand that she was serious. My stiff cock surely described my desire for her, but finally I stammered out, “Oh God Valma, of course I do. I want to be in you.” She unhooked the bra and her tits tumbled out, glorious nipples full and hard.

“Take my panties off,” she murmured, “touch my garden,” she ordered.

I rolled to sit up on the edge of the bed and pushed her panties down to her knees. I had to touch her. I rubbed my fingertips on her bulging mound, sorting and sifting between her curly blond and gray pubic hairs seeking the top of her slit. “Ahhhhhh,” she moaned as my fingers slipped between her legs and along each side of her pussy lips. She pushed her panties down and off as I continued to pleasure her hot cunt.

She climbed on the bed beside me. My fingers never left her slit as she crawled close to me. We shifted awkwardly as we attempted to lie side by side.

I was ready to enter her, but she whispered, “Slow now, no rushing, you will get all you want tonight, I am yours but I want to be loved and seduced. You are my fantasy come to life. A beautiful young man, hard body and filled with desire for me. I want to enjoy the rest as much as the beginning. You are the perfect one for me.”

She rubbed against me with every part of her body that could be applied. I had never before sensed a woman who wanted me inside her to this extent. I felt smothered in the sex emanating from each part of her as she moved, kissed and touched and rubbed me. I could not decide what part I needed to feel and suck most, her beautiful tits, the soft velvet of her ass cheeks, her engorged pussy or the taste and feel of her tongue and lips. They all demanded my attention at the same time. I was selecting from an erotic buffet of pleasure.

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

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

“Just look at them. This breaks my heart!” she said quietly.

“You taught both of them, right?” her husband whispered.

“Yes. She just finished my class, and he was my student five years ago.”

“Wait. Wasn’t he the valedictorian?”

“Uh-huh. Smart as a whip. And as nice as they come. And very popular with the girls. I tried so hard to get him to go to college, but he was hell bent on the Army.”

“Right. I remember you telling me that. Such a shame. Not that there’s anything wrong with the military. But being that smart…”

“Oh, look. His sister is about to fall apart!” his wife said as she squeezed her husband’s arm so hard it hurt.

She’d managed not to cry up ’til then, but when the sister started crying, she cried, too.

The sister was Andrea Simmons who was 16 years old while her older brother, Nathan, had just turned 21 six weeks earlier. The siblings had just lost both of their parents in a horrible car accident that shook their little town of Maple Valley, Washington, more than anything anyone could remember in many years.

Nathan had indeed joined the Army a few months after high school, but he hadn’t enlisted in the traditional sense. He’d gone in under something colloquially called ‘high school to flight school’ in which qualified applicants could, without a college degree, fly some of the world’s most sophisticated helicopters after completing the Army’s warrant officer basic course and flight school at Fort Rucker, Alabama.

Nathan had carefully planned his future starting when he was 16 and fell in love with helicopters after watching the movie Blackhawk Down. The thought of flying one captivated him, and after doing some research, he found out it was possible for him to do just that if he could meet all of the Army’s qualifications.

From that moment on, everything Nathan Simmons did was with one goal in mind—to fly an Army helicopter. Whether it was academics, sports, or studying for various physical or academic tests he needed to pass, Nathan had a singular focus.

That kind of self-discipline had recently paid off for Warrant Officer Nathan Simmons who had just finished flight school. He was one day away from leaving Fort Rucker for his first duty station when his commanding officer called him in to break the worst kind of news to one of the Army’s newest pilots.

In fact, his final flight had been on Wednesday, his class was due to graduate on Friday, and the Red Cross called Fort Rucker on Thursday informing the chain of command that both of Nathan’s parents were dead. Too stunned to think, Nathan somehow managed to thank his commander, salute when he left, then talk to the admin section about his options.

Nathan had 30 days leave coming to him, and his commander told him he could try and delay his reporting date to his first unit if needed. Nathan thanked him and promised to stay in touch then found himself on a flight from Alabama to Seattle the next day, just three hours after graduation, an event he couldn’t recall as more than a hazy blur.

His first concern had been for his little sister who was staying with a friend until her brother arrived. The first two days had also been a blur of planning for a funeral, meeting with their parents’ lawyer, and a non-stop parade of people coming by the house to wish them well or offer assistance.

Now today, he found himself standing in front of all that remained of his mother and father, with his unconsolable, brokenhearted sister by his side.

The woman’s husband knew she was going to go try and comfort them, and he knew her well enough to know there was no stopping her even though this brother and sister were the only ones standing in front of their parents’ caskets as everyone else gave them time to grieve alone before filing by to pay their last respects.

She did interrupt them when she walked up and gently touched the girl’s shoulder. She turned around, and once she recognized her former teacher, she hugged her and continued to cry.

“Ms. Edwards!” the girl sobbed as they held one another.

Over the girl’s shoulder she saw Nathan who acknowledged her presence as she quietly said, “I’m SO sorry!”

She beckoned him over, and he joined in the hug as he thanked her for coming.

“Do you kids have a place to stay? Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?” she asked with genuine concern.

They were staying at their parents’ home, and school had been out for a week, so Andrea didn’t need a place to stay to finish out the year. Had it not been, Nathan would have done his best to find someone to keep her until school was over. Not having any family in the local area would have made that a huge challenge, but it’s possible one of Andrea’s friends would have offered. He might have even considered allowing this former teacher to care for her until school was out, but that was now a moot point.

“We’re fine, Ms. Edwards,” Nathan told her. “But thank you very much for your kind offer.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Listen, if you think of Ankara travesti anything, you just let me know, okay?”

“We will,” he told her as he gently pulled his grieving sister away from their former teacher.

“Come on, Andi. We need to move out of the way so other people can pay their respects.”

She nodded as she sobbed then put her arm through her brother’s and let him lead her back to their pew in the front row.

“It’s…just…not…fair!” Andrea sobbed as Nathan helped her sit back down.

He thought about trying to explain how randomly the universe worked to her; that fairness had nothing to do with it. He wanted to tell her they’d just been in the wrong place at the right time, and that was all there was to it. But his younger sister needed love and reassurance, not cold, hard information, so he put his arm around her and let her cry as family members from out of town and other friends filed by the shiny coffins.

After what seemed like an eternity, their parents were laid to rest in a local cemetery. The last of the crowd was gone leaving just two people and the funeral director there with Nathan and Andrea.

“Thanks, Uncle Bart. We appreciate that,” Nathan said to him after being offered his condolences yet again.

“You uh, you look sharp in your uniform, Nate,” his uncle told him.

“Oh, thanks. I nearly forgot I wore it,” Nathan told him truthfully.

“We’re all real proud of you,” his aunt said before taking Andrea aside to talk to her alone.

“So what’s next?” his uncle asked.

“Well, I was on my way to Fort Riley, Kansas, but I asked my last ‘boss’ to see if they can delay my reporting date until I can deal with…all this.”

“Makes sense,” his Uncle Bart told him. “What about Andrea?”

“I guess she’ll have to come with me. There’s no one here to take care of her, and I’m the logical choice. Besides, she’s my responsibility now, so I’m really the only choice.”

“We’d love to have her, but with me being unable to work anymore, I don’t think we could do that.”

“I understand. And I’d never ask you to do that. This is on me, and I’ll figure things out as I go. I just hope I don’t have to deploy for any length of time until she finishes high school.”

“She’s got two more years left, right?”

“Correct. She just finished her sophomore year.”

“Is it too early to ask about college?”

“I uh, I just can’t say at this point, you know? I’m a little overwhelmed right now, but we’ll make that happen. Andi’s too smart not to have the opportunity to go,” Nathan told him confidently.

“I have no doubt, Nate. You’ve always been mature beyond your years. I mean, look at you, an Army helicopter pilot at 21. That’s pretty damned impressive if you ask me.”

“Thanks, Uncle Bart,” Nathan replied. “Look, I uh, I think I’m gonna grab my sister and head back to the house then start working on some kind of plan.”

“Planning’s the key to success, right? Isn’t that what your dad always said?”

Nathan managed a smile then told his uncle, “Yes, he did. He instilled that, along with many other good values in me, early on, and he—and my mom—will be sorely missed.”

“Well, you take good care of yourself and that pretty young sister of yours, you hear?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that. You have my word.”

The two men shook hands as Bart waved for his wife who gave Andrea a final hug before doing the same to Nathan.

Once they were all alone, Andrea looked at her brother and said, “Nathan? I’m so scared.”

He put his arms around her and promised her everything would be okay, even though he had no way of knowing whether or not it would.

“Come on. Let’s go home and see if we can maybe figure out what to do, okay?”

She let him put her arm around her shoulders as he walked them to their parents’ car, the one that hadn’t been demolished by a tractor-trailer that lost control on I-5 just south of Seattle eight days earlier, killing them instantly, turning their car into a compacted bale of glass and metal.

There were more flowers and some food on the doorstep with notes which Nathan read after taking everything inside. He changed clothes then checked on his sister who was in their parents’ room looking into the closet.

She knew he was there and said, “I still can’t believe they’re gone.”

Nathan walked up behind his sister, put his hands on her shoulders, but didn’t say anything other than, “I miss then, too, Andi.”

Andrea turned around, looked at her brother, then broke down again and began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Come on. This probably isn’t the best place to be right now.”

He tried to get her to eat a little something, but Andrea couldn’t stand the thought. He managed to get her to drink a few sips of orange juice then let it go. He wasn’t hungry, either, but knew he needed to eat, so he dished out something from one of the casseroles and sat down and forced himself to eat a few bites.

He gave up on doing any planning for the rest Konya travesti of that day choosing instead to spend it with his sister. Neither of them spoke very often, but there was no real need to. The only thing that was going to help was the passage of time, and that couldn’t be sped up no matter how badly they were hurting.

Nathan got up early the next morning, and after making sure Andrea was still asleep, went out for a four-mile run to try and clear his foggy head. The cool, crisp, June-morning air helped tremendously as he tried to think about the things he knew he had to do while trying to come up with things he hadn’t thought about but that would also need to be addressed.

One of the most important things was getting his sister declared his legal dependent so that he could make sure she had access to medical and dental care. He called his former unit and talked to a senior NCO as soon as he got back home who he explained how that process worked.

Evidently, pretty much everything hinged on getting death certificates, and those wouldn’t be ready for another week or so, at least according to the attorney who’d helped him the day after he arrived back home.

Nathan thanked the master sergeant who told him to call—anytime—about anything no matter how trivial it might seem.

That was one of the things he liked the most about the Army. People really did seem to ‘take care of their own’, and they did it with a kind of professionalism he wanted to emulate.

He took a shower, ate a bowl of cereal, then sat down and starting making a list of things to do along with subheadings for whatever the main topic might require as part of getting it taken care of.

By the time Andrea wandered into the kitchen around 10am, Nathan had a fairly long list of things that had to be done along with getting his sister into the military’s system as his dependent.

“Did you sleep?” he asked quietly.

“Not really,” she told him. “I’d drift off then wake up and then lay there asking why this happened then start crying, and eventually fall back asleep only to wake up and do it all over again.”

She poured herself some coffee, and Nathan thought about asking her what she thought she was doing, but if his 16-year old sister wanted coffee after losing her parents, she could have some.

“Did you?” she asked as she poured in a ton of cream and sugar before taking a first sip.

“I’d have said I had a rough night, but compared to yours, I did okay.”

“What are you working on?” Andrea asked.

“Oh, it’s a list of stuff we need to do. You know, like getting the house ready to put up for sale, the life insurance…”

“Wait? We’re selling the house?” she asked, on the verge of crying again.

“Andi, I can’t stay here with you, and you can’t live here alone,” he said as gently as he could.

She didn’t cry, but her voice was hollow as she said, “So I have to leave all my friends, don’t I?”

It wasn’t an accusation, it was her way of processing their new reality. Technically, she could request to be emancipated, but Andrea wasn’t ready to take care of herself, and she was well aware of that. Just the thought of doing so frightened her. She also knew none of her friends’ parents were going to offer to let her stay there with them for two years, so that could only mean one thing. She’d be leaving with her brother and going wherever the Army sent him.

“You’re being sent to Kansas, right?” she asked without looking at him.

“Yes. Fort Riley.”

“Where’s that?” Andrea wanted to know.

“Come on. I’ll show you,” Nathan said as spun around and opened a search engine on his laptop. He clicked on ‘maps’ and brought up the state of Kansas then zeroed in on his new duty station. Fort Riley was in the northeastern corner of the state, and about 150 miles from Kansas City, Missouri.

“Do they even have schools there?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Nathan didn’t reply in kind, he only assured her that they did.

“Where will we live?”

“I don’t know yet. But either in a house on post or we’ll get a place out in town,” her brother told her.

He saw her puzzled look and explained that the Army called its bases ‘posts’ so living on-post meant on the base.

“Will I be able to drive?” she asked.

“Yeah. Of course. You can either drive Mom’s car or, once we sell the house, we can sell that car, too, then buy you one when we get to Kansas.”

“I want a Mustang,” his sister said, her voice showing signs of life for the first time since he got home.

“We’ll talk about that, okay?” he told her with a smile.

“Oh, right. You’ll be my new dad, huh?” she said rather dismissively.

“Andi? I’ll never try and be Dad, okay? But I will be responsible for you.”

“So…you get to tell me what to do?” she asked with an edge.

“Andi. Listen. I don’t have all the answers yet. One thing I do know is this is going to hard for both of us. I don’t expect you to understand everything, but could İzmir travesti you please try not to give me a hard time?”

Nathan had always been her hero, and she’d looked up to him for as long as she could remember. In fact, when she was a little girl, she’d announced one evening at dinner that she was going to marry her brother one day.

Her father smiled and told her, “Oh, okay,” never bothering to mention that wasn’t allowed.

In time she realized it wasn’t, but she never stopped loving and admiring her brother, but she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for him to be her parent. Then again, it was a case of ‘ready or not, here it comes’ so Nathan really was her de facto dad now.

“Sorry. I’m just a total mess right now,” she told him.

“It’s okay. So am I.”

Nathan was surprised when his sister then said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Her brother smiled at her then said, “Maybe eat something?”

Andrea made face then said, “Ugh! Not that.”

“We do need to do the laundry and the dishes are piling up. If you pick one, I’ll do the other,” he offered.

“You suck at the laundry so you do the dishes,” she told him.

She nearly smiled when Nathan smiled at her, and for now, that was more than he could have hoped for. Between the two of them they somehow managed to get the house reasonably clean and agreed to do their best not to mess anything up before they could find a realtor to help them get it sold.

That evening they sat down and looked at some websites and tried to decide whom to ask to sell the home, but shelved the idea when neither of them could decide.

It was just after noon the following day when the doorbell rang, and Nathan went to answer it. The parade of well-wishers had stopped, but it was probably someone like Ms. Edwards checking in on them.

He looked outside, and saw a woman standing there then did a double take when his brain told him he recognized her. He opened the door, took a better look at her, and that’s when she smiled at him.

“Miss Jennings?” he said before she could speak, knowing it was her. He knew she’d gotten married, but couldn’t recall her new name to save him.

“I got married right after you were in my class, Nathan. My last name is Stevens,” she said politely.

“Yes. Right! I knew you did, I just couldn’t recall your new name,” he said apologetically.

“It’s fine, Nathan. You have a lot going on right now, and it’s been what—five years?”

Nathan nodded as he looked down and saw the ring on her hand then said, “Yes. Yes, it has.”

He hesitated then asked, “Um…would you like to come in?”

“Am I bothering you?” she asked, her eyebrows raised to let him know she was concerned about that. “I…just heard about, you know, your parents, and I…I wanted to come by and at least offer my condolences.”

“Oh, sure. Yes. Please, come in, Mrs. Stevens,” Nathan said as he stepped aside.

He closed the door then asked her if she’d like anything to eat or drink.

“Oh, no thank you,” she told him. “I won’t stay long, I promise. And I hope you’ll call me Marissa from now on.”

“Oh. Sure. Thank you. I will,” he promised as he led her to the family room.

As they walked, he remembered Miss Jennings quite well. She’d been his 10th-grade Washington State history teacher, and the only teacher on whom he’d ever had a crush. Then again, nearly every other guy in school had had a crush on her, too, but he’d really had it bad for her. He did remember her first name was Marissa, and ever since, it had been one of his favorite names even though he’d never yet met anyone else with that name.

Her very blonde hair wasn’t quite as long as she’d worn it back then, but it was still every bit as beautiful as it now fell to just above her shoulders rather than to the middle of her back.

The gorgeous blue eyes and pretty face that had mesmerized him in class looked exactly the way he’d remembered them, and although she’d aged, it was barely noticeable to him. Marissa also still had the same amazing figure she’d had five years ago, and Nathan found himself briefly back in tenth grade fantasizing about his beautiful teacher.

“I’m sorry I missed the funeral, Nathan, but I only heard about the accident last night when a friend called to let me know,” she explained.

“It’s fine, and there’s no need to apologize,” he told her. “I’m just glad you stopped by.”

She didn’t reply so he said, “I knew you got married, and as I recall, you left the school the next year. Am I remembering correctly?”

“You are,” she replied with a smile. “My husband, Eric, was a firefighter, and he lived in Seattle, so I resigned my position and started teaching closer to our home.”

Nathan grew up in a small-town Maple Valley which was located about 40 miles southeast of Seattle, and that’s where Miss Jennings had taught high school for several years.

“I haven’t been back out here since I left in 2014, but I always loved the scenery.”

“It was a pretty great place to grow up,” he told her with a smile of his own.

She looked down for a moment then looked back up at Natan.

“The reason I came was because…well, sadly, I have a lot of…experience…with dealing with the kind of things you’re going through.”

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This continues from Granddad – Angie – It’s quite long so I’ve split into two parts.

Enjoy. Comments always welcome.

***

“Sorry I pressed that button Granddad,” she offered.

We left the beach, eventually, and paddled hand in hand back to the harbour wall before returning to the apartment. We showered and dressed to go out. It was a little chilly and My Sweetheart wore one of her own creations, the red one she didn’t wear to the party, with a delicate lacy shawl we’d picked up in the village, her red high heals and white stockings. She looked totally stunning. I wore a simple jacket and trousers not wanting in any way to detract from her loveliness. Having partaken of a healthy lunch we settled on a good solid steak for dinner.

“What button was that, Sweetheart?” I asked innocently.

“You know,” she giggled girlishly, “the one where you put a baby in my belly to take home to Mummy, like you had Mummy and Grandma.”

“Ohhh, that one?” I replied contentedly, “you didn’t enjoy that it made my cock really hard and how fast and hard I came then?” I teased.

“I did, very much so but it wasn’t intended to do that. Just give the audience something to imagine while they watched us fuck.”

“Pity we didn’t fuck then, wasn’t it?” I chuckled.

Her face clouded briefly then became a happy beam of the brightest sunshine.

“Yeah, it was pretty awesome, wasn’t it? Don’t think anyone minded though, d’you?” she chuckled.

We both chuckled then laughed out loud, enough to turn a few heads our way. Thinking about it now, I don’t think I’d laughed and chuckled quite so much as I did on that little holiday, for a long time.

“I wouldn’t mind, y’know,” I suggested.

I could see her mind flicking over the last few moments, wouldn’t mind what?

“Y’know, you having a …” I started.

She reached out swiftly and put her finger to my lips.

“Stop!” she commanded.

I stopped.

“Now listen,” she demanded when she was certain I wasn’t going to continue, “firstly, we’ve known each other less than two weeks. It’s been great fun, I’ve never felt so happy in my life and I want to continue being with you BUT if I get pregnant either deliberately or accidentally everybody but everybody will think it was deliberate. That I set out to trap you! THAT IS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! You understand?

Secondly you have not once mentioned being married nor having any children so, forgive me saying this, at your age I think this could be a temporary aberration. No, let me finish,” she said holding up her hand to quell my retort,

“Thirdly, We’ll be going home in a few days, unfortunately, there’s a different reality there. The circumstances will be different. Our own reality might kick in and demand more common sense. Anything and everything could change once the warmth of the sun is no longer shining on our naked bodies and holiday mode has become a thing of the past.

And finally, just so you know, I think I love you, Granddad. I’ve certainly never felt so happy and content with a man before but I’m also smart enough to know it might, just might, be infatuation or the endorphin rush of an over abundance of fantastic sex. Also it could be that you might, just might, no, don’t interudelyupt, just as easily be confusing love with infatuation and the enjoyment of a damn good fuck. So, instead of even thinking of making, potentially long plans for the future can we continue to enjoy ourselves together and let it all go where it takes us, please?”

She looked at me almost forlornly. It was clearly something she had been thinking about for a while.

“Yes,” I said very simply, “two questions?”

Her happy smile was the only answer I really needed. I’d happily wait forever if necessary.

“Of course.”

“I’d like to meet your parents. Let them know what you might be letting yourself in for?”

She laughed at that.

“Might be difficult meeting both my parents. Dad buggered off when I was just five. Even then I knew he was a total waste of space. Mum’ll be delighted and green with envy, jealous as hell. She likes older gentlemen, says they know how to treat a girl. I’m sure I inherited that from her. I’ll probably have to protect you from her. We can go and see her anytime you like. Second question?”

“Where will you live? My place or yours?”

“Mine,” she responded quickly, “I’ve an AST Agreement and a good landlord. He doesn’t jack the rent up at every opportunity. He fixes the things that need fixing without problem. AND I will need somewhere if everything goes tits up with us. It’s also easier for work. I’d want to see you as much as possible though, stay over, you staying with me. Normal boyfriend/girlfriend sort of thing?”

“How do you know it’s easier for work,” I asked reasonably, “you’ve not been to mine, yet.”

“Got your address on record, silly,” she giggled, “I’ve been in the town long enough to know where most areas are. You live on the very edge of the town, the opposite side of the centre from me, don’t you?”

“You Ankara travesti drive to work?” I didn’t bother to answer her question. She knew she was correct.

“Yep, while I can. Why?”

“It looks as if your car’s on its last legs, to be honest. Will you let me get it sorted? I’m not very happy with the love of my life driving around in something that could be dangerous, or not as safe as it should be.”

“That’s thinking long term, Granddad, thought we weren’t going to do that yet!”

“It’s not,” I argued, “its looking after my future, not yours. How d’you think I’d feel if something happened to you in that car. Something that I could so easily have prevented by simply replacing it with something better. I’d be devastated regardless of us being together or not. Let me, please?”

My turn to look forlorn, I turned it on for maximum effect.

“Granddad, you’re so sweet. OK, but second hand, nothing fancy, promise?”

“Promise Sweetheart, now what would you like for dessert?”

“You!”

It was only a stones throw from the restaurant to the apartment but we took the scenic route, through the village, passed the clubs and towards the beach. We paused outside the swingers club.

“You want to go inside?”

“No, no thanks, I’m very happy with you and my circle of new friends. You want to go inside?”

I didn’t. She slipped off her red heels, I told her to keep her white stocking on. We walked out onto the beach to the waters edge. We paddled in the moonlight all the way to the nearly empty Swingers beach. We stopped and watched the activity for a few minutes then made our way slowly home. Shower, bed and tender lovemaking. She didn’t go for her morning run, said we should share a session of good cardio-vascular exercise. We did then I watched her yoga on the balcony with great pleasure. We showered and wandered into the village for a late breakfast before heading for the beach, quiet end. Pegging out the picnic rug we got ourselves settled. That is me laying on my back and she resting on one elbow while tracing her finger-nail over my chest.

### ### ###

“So, did you fuck Angie after you completed your training?” she asked, right out of the blue.

“Yes, now and again a bit like Gladys I suppose. As and when.”

“So who was the next Contented Cunt, if you please?”

She sat up, mimed picking up the notebook and pencil from the rug, licked the tip of the pencil and sat, waiting for me to commence.

“Mrs. Davies, Mrs. D,” I started.

“Now how did I know she was going to be married?” she asked with a snigger.

“Because, maybe, that I came to pick you up for this holiday fully believing you to be married?” I offered laughingly.

“Yeah, that’ll do it every time.” she accepted gracefully.

### ### ###

“At the end of my six months I was ready to jump out of the frying pan and into the fire. Charlie made some calls and I was sent up to a fishing town on the East Coast. A nine inch gas pipe for local distribution laid through the streets of the town. The contract was scheduled for about six weeks.

At seven o’clock on the following Monday morning I presented myself at the site office. By eight my test weld was completed. By ten it had been X-rayed and ultrasound tested and found satisfactory. It was cut into test strips and sent away for tensile testing. While we waited for the results I was given a list of three likely places to find lodgings and told to be back by one.

The first place was not encouraging. The woman looked very sour-faced and unwelcoming. The second was much better. A happy, cheerful woman with a big friendly smile and an even bigger bosom. Her husband was away at sea chasing the silver darlings, as she put it. I thought she meant he was chasing pretty girls! I dumped my bag. She told me that dinner would be on the table at seven whether I was there or not and I headed back to the site office.

My first professional weld was in a trench about four feet deep, on my knees with a small bell hole, six feet downstream to collect the flooding tide. It was constantly being pumped out by three big, noisy, water extraction pumps in the hope that it would prevent me drowning or electrocuting myself. It stank of seawater, coal gas and something I’d rather not think about. To my left normal street traffic crept by and to my right mothers peered down at me as they pushed their prams passed. Health and Safety was a long way in the future. They only stopped the traffic, motorised and pedestrian when the weld was being ‘bombed’, X-rayed in English although they actually used radio-active isotopes, hence ‘bombed’.

Mrs. Davies was a lovely lady. I was back at my digs by six, that first night. I knocked on the front door and she opened it with a beaming smile.

“‘allo Darlin'” she said with a cheery smile, “blimey, you look a state! Wotcha bin doin’? Looks like you’ve bin working up to yer neck in dirty puddles! Better come in the back door. Down to the alley, left at the bottom. I’ll open the gate for yer!”

“Lock Konya travesti the gate!” she shouted across the back yard, “don’t want everybody wanderin’ in unannounced!”

I slid the bolt across and picked my way across the badly laid stepping stones to the back door in the deepening gloom of a late autumn evening.

“Get yer boots off before yer come in. Put ’em on the newspaper beside the door. I’ll tidy them up for the mornin’.”

I did as I was told and stepped into the scullery.

“Gawd blimey! You’re in a right state an’ no mistake! Get that lot off, I’ve time to get it cleaned and dried by mornin’.”

I started to peel off my wet, filthy clothing, including my socks.

“And those keks!” instructed Mrs. Davies, gesturing at my Y fronts.

I looked at her, shocked.

“Wot,” she questioned, “I’m a married woman, I’ve seen a man’s willy before.

Now I’m not shy around women, never have been as I’m sure you will realise. I struggled to peel off my wet underpants while Mrs. Davies politely averted her eyes. With my pants around my ankles I tried to kick them off rather than bend, sensibly and work them off. It didn’t work so I had to bend to finish the job anyway. Mrs. Davies turned, expecting to find me at least in a position to have covered my ‘privates’. Instead I was just straightening up.

“Jeez!” she exclaimed, “I’ve seen willy’s before, but not one quite like that! Right, get yourself in the bath, let’s get you cleaned up! Top of the stairs then straight on and while you’re at it you’d better wash yer ‘air. I’ve never seen anyone in such a mess. I’ll be up with fresh towels directly!”

The bathroom was, a bathroom. The essentials. Wash basin, toilet and bath. A short bath at that. No shower in those days but a set of tubes with a rose on one end and spongy holes on the other that fitted to the taps would have been handy. I ran the bath water, it was much hotter than I expected and had to put some cold in after I’d had a pee, in the loo not the bath.

Lowering myself gingerly into the hot water I made sure that I didn’t overflow the bath. No worries as I couldn’t get all of me in the bath at the same time. Deciding to wash my hair first I had to put my feet up next to the taps, bent my knees and tried to sink down far enough to get my head under the water. No easy task.

With my hair thoroughly wet I reached for the shampoo on the shelf, just out of reach! Reorganising myself I grabbed the plastic bottle, poured some into the palm of my hand and applied a liberal amount. With a head covered in suds and my eyes shut tight, no non sting shampoos in those days, I put my feet back up beside the taps and lowered my head beneath the water once more. Holding my breath as long as possible I vigorously massaged my scalp. I lifted my head slightly so that I could a) breathe and b) work on the back of my head. As I rose up a little I sensed rather than saw a shape where the blank white of the door should be. Cracking an eyelid slightly open I was delighted to see Mrs. D standing transfixed. Her arms bore a couple of large towels but her eyes were glued to my cock!

After the best part of an afternoon being wet and cold the heat of the bathroom was bringing it back to life. Without so much as a flicker of an eyelid I reached down, as boys will, and rearranged my equipment, giving it a little stroke and tug to get it straight before returning my hand to further washing my hair.

I heard a sharp intake of breath and opened my eyes suddenly.

“Oh! Hello Mrs D,” I said totally ignoring the fact that she was staring directly at my hardening cock, “perfect timing. Would you mind passing me the shampoo bottle?”

She shook herself then shuddered as if in a trance.

“What? Oh, yes. Sorry. Lost my train of thought for a moment there. Shampoo? Yes, here it is.”

She placed the towels on the lid of the loo seat and reached over to get the shampoo which was perfectly easy for me to get myself. Her big bosoms seemed to be heaving as she tried to steady her breath. Now, I did, at that time, very much enjoy older women. Mrs D was probably a fair bit younger than Gladys and Angie but older than my girlfriend so having Mrs D breathing heavily at the sight of my growing cock was not an opportunity to be missed in my mind.

“Once I’ve finished my hair, would you mind doing my back?” I asked innocently.

“Well. Umm, I’d better pop down and see how the dinners doing. Don’t want that spoiled now do we?”

With flushed cheeks Mrs D scooted out the door and I heard her scuttling down the steep stairs. I gave my hair a second quick wash than concentrated on getting my cock nice and hard for her. Soon as I heard her coming back up the stairs I pushed my head back, closed my eyes and started to rinse the soap out of my hair. Mrs D couldn’t fail to notice the rampant cock as soon as she entered the bathroom.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed much to my delight as I surfaced and squeezed as much water out of my hair while doing so.

“Everything alright, İzmir travesti Mrs D,” I asked smiling innocently.

She was again flustered.

“Eh? Oh yes, I’ve turned everything down so as long as I start on the gravy in about fifteen minutes it should all be fine.”

“That’s good. Wouldn’t want our first dinner together to be spoiled now would we, Mrs D? Now what would be best for you? Shall I remain sitting down so you can kneel down or should I stand? What would you prefer?” I said as I started to lift myself from the sitting position to the standing.

She watched my cock as if mesmerised, it broke fully from the water, rose to the horizontal as I started to stand then to the near vertical as I stood fully before her.

“I like it standing, if you don’t mind, John.”

She still hadn’t taken her eyes off my cock! I handed her the bar of soap and the flannel.

“Start wherever you like, Mrs D.” I suggested.

She took the soap, held it in her hand then put both hands in the bath water before working up a nice handful of lather. Cupping my full balls in one hand she used the other hand to stroke along the length of my cock.

“Is it always this hard?” she exclaimed.

“No.” I told her seriously, “but it usually gets pretty hard when a beautiful woman strokes it. I’ve been laying in a wet, muddy trench all afternoon and it’s been wet and cold all the time. That it’s as hard as that is all down to you Mrs D.”

“Me?” she exclaimed, “I’m an old married woman and you’re a young lad. How could I make your willy hard without even touching it?”

“Well,” I said thoughtfully, “for a start You’re not old. Second you’ve got a lovely pair of boobs and thirdly married women often know a lot of things a young lad like me would like to know about.”

“Gedawaywivyer, you’re just saying that!” she said clearly pleased.

“Now why would I say that if I didn’t mean it?” I countered.

“Well, because,” she paused, “because…” she ground to a halt.

“Because you’re stroking my cock rather nicely?” I suggested playfully.

“Well…” she dried up again.

“If you carry on stroking me like that you’ll make me cum. You want to rinse it off and as it’s so nice a clean, give it a kiss?” I suggested while hoping I hadn’t totally blown it.

She looked up at me.

“I’ve never put a cock anywhere near my mouth,” she informed me sternly.

She looked down, directly at my rampant cock.

“On the other hand it does look rather lovely,” she admitted.

She slowly got on her knees, picked up the flannel and gently rinsed my cock of all the soap suds. When she was satisfied that it was perfect she leaned forward and tenderly kissed the very tip. It was as much as I could do to resist the urge to push my cock forward and right to the back of her throat.

“Now look what you’ve made me do. Your back isn’t washed and I’ve got to go and make the gravy,” she scolded.

She thrust the flannel back into my hand and told me I had ten minutes, no more, to get finished, dried and be sitting at the table. She headed for the door still very flustered.

“Mrs D,” I called after her, “is anyone else joining us for dinner?”

“No John, just you and me,” she called back from halfway down the stairs.

Ten minutes later I was sitting at the table, with a small towel just about wrapped around my waist.

“What?” she exclaimed when she walked in with two large plates full of delicious smelling food.

“I didn’t want to be late for our first meal together. Anyway you’re not seeing anything you haven’t seen before. Less actually as I’m wearing a towel.” I responded, with a cheerful grin.

I stood to show her the nicely tented little towel which promptly fell to the floor. I made no attempt to recover my decency.

“You’re a wicked lad,” she remonstrated with a happy smile, “you’ll quite put me off my dinner. Just think yourself lucky it’s shepherd’s pie not bangers and mash!”

She didn’t tell me to go and get properly dressed nor make myself decent, so I didn’t. I picked up the towel and hung it over the back of my chair and resumed my seat. We sat opposite each other. I took a forkful of shepherd’s pie while I watched her. She took a forkful of pie also and put it into her mouth, chewed it very gently then swallowed. She looked up. Our eyes met and locked together.

“That wasn’t shepherd’s pie you just ate! That was bangers and mash.” I accused jokingly.

She gave me a mischievous smile.

“Eat your dinner!” she demanded.

A command that was somewhat lacking in authority as she laughed at the same time. We ate in a companionable silence for a few minutes.

“This is delicious, Mrs D, almost as good as my Mum’s,” I complimented before forking another load into my mouth.

“Only ‘almost as good’?” she countered, faking a crestfallen look.

“Mrs D, if you were my Mum how would you feel if I told you someone had made a better shepherd’s pie than yours?”

She looked at me carefully, for all the world as if she was considering something momentous.

“You’re a thoughtful lad,” she said, “so tell me, what would your mum think if she knew you were sitting down to dinner with your landlady, without a stitch on and teasing her with that beautiful hard cock, umm?”

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