8 comments/ 53910 views/ 36 favorites Dancing Into Her Knickers Pt. 01 By: monicaelwes The Mutual Realisation How a step-mom drifts into sex with her step-son. In one of the more lonely periods of her second marriage a couple of years ago, Monica had attended ballroom dancing lessons and had learned many of the popular dances. She had always loved dancing and learning ballroom was no exception. However, in many ways it was one of the most sexually tempting activities in which she had ever been involved. It was far more tempting than the tennis club, going to swimming lessons or having a private trainer at the gym. She came to the conclusion that dancing a waltz, tango, or foxtrot is the nearest thing there is to having sex with a man. You are in his arms and your body from just beneath your neck, across your breasts and down past your stomach are almost as closely connected as when you make love. She understood quickly why there are so many partnership break ups on those dancing programmes on TV. It was not a good time for her. Her second marriage of nearly ten years was in trouble. They had just drifted apart. He worked too many hours, travelled too much and had lost interest in their home, her daughter and her. To be truthful, she had lost a great deal of interest in him too. That is what happens, though, isn't it? A couple meet and fall in love, well they think they are in love and they may certainly be so with that person. But as they forge their ways in the world they change and that person becomes a different person. Their differing experiences changes both of them. Then one day they wake up alongside a completely different person to the one they had fallen in love with. They often do not recognise or even know the person they are lying beside. That is life, that is how it happens and that is why nearly half of all first and even more second marriages fail. Monica and Bruce were both on their second marriages! Whilst each of them knew that the marriage was falling apart, neither of them wanted to admit that or part and then divorce; they had both been there before and had no desire to get the tee shirt, wet or otherwise. They had two great families behind them, a fantastic set of friends and a son and a daughter from their first marriages to consider. So, like many couples they never discussed it. They avoided the issue. Whether he was seeing anyone else or getting up to what he shouldn't, Monica didn't think about. She cast that from her mind, but assumed that he probably was, after all he had with her! It was not a physical thing, for her figure was about the same as it had been for years. She had not put on weight, her legs were still in good shape, there was no cellulite, her bum had not dropped and her thirty four inch B to C cup tits hadn't sagged. Her blonde, with a little help from a bottle, hair was in good shape and she still wore it shoulder-length, which might be slightly on the young side for her age, but what the hell? Bruce, also had not changed much physically in the twelve years they had been together. He was still the handsome bugger with a naturally toned body, a beautifully hairy chest and a cock that was so wonderfully thick you really did feel stuffed with that inside you. The only significant change was that now, his ardour was declining and his recovery period was increasing significantly! That meant that the whole sex thing became complicated. They did it and it was still generally good, but the frequency was less, they were less adventurous and the result was that Monica was, more often than not, frustrated. She would often go three weeks or so without having sex so naturally she turned more towards satisfying herself, something she had not done regularly since she was a teenager. In addition to the sexual frustration, something Monica had not suffered from since her late teens, there was also the loneliness. Bruce travelled quite a lot on business and when home he usually had meetings or dinners two or three evenings a week. She had coped ok with that when Emily, her daughter, lived with them, but since going to university getting on for a year ago, she both missed her and felt very lonely. She could not do much about them drifting apart, or, her sexual frustration, although her fingers and her vibrators did try. She was well aware that there was more that she could do and for sure she had the opportunities, but she was scared to have an affair and one-night-stands, even when she was single held little appeal. She could, though, do something about the loneliness and became determined to build a new life outside her marriage. She re-joined a tennis club, took up golf, joined a gym with a swimming pool, started writing again, began a novel and went to ballroom dancing lessons. Although she enjoyed learning the steps and loved the dancing it was not a good move from her sexual frustration point of view. In fact it was anything but a good move. Being held in different men's arms for the hour lesson and the hour or so free form dancing following it was without doubt the most sexually tempting thing she had ever done. Even very ordinary blokes, ugly ones and overweight ones become quite desirable if they are able to lead a woman round the floor in an accomplished way. She had no idea, how she did not succumb to the advances that a few made towards her. She really did not know, but that was the reason she stopped going. It was not that she didn't want to dance, it was that she did not want to be fucked that stopped her. Actually, at the time she acknowledged, she did want to be fucked, but was scared to admit it and even more so of being fucked by a virtual stranger! It was similar, but not as acute a situation at the gym and to a lesser extent at tennis. The opportunities and the temptations were rife at both of them with the added 'bonus' of the youth of much of the temptation by way of personal trainers and young tennis coaches. But her resolve was strong and somehow, despite the waning state of both her marriage and sex life with Bruce, she did not succumb to the opportunities that increasingly seemed to be offered to her. * "Didn't you say that you had been to ballroom dancing lessons?" Charles asked completely out of the blue. Camille, his girl-friend, thought he was talking to her. "Are you fucking joking?' she slurred, the Champagne having obviously already got to her. "Not you, I was talking to Monica." "Ok, fine," the tall willowy blonde slurred. "Yes, I did actually," Monica said. "Well I was in the ballroom dancing society at Cambridge so may I have the pleasure?" He was a good dancer. He felt the rhythm well and led her in an appropriately authoritative way. Monica was pleased, though, that there were other 'dancers' who wanted to use the floor for there is nothing worse, in her opinion, than a flash couple of buggers like Charles and her hogging the floor. As they sat down, Camille clapped her hands a few times. "Very nice, you make a lovely couple." Charles and Camille had been a number for a few months now. Although she had no need of the money, she worked for the PR agency that had the unenviable task of presenting the image of the bank for which Charles worked to the world. She was quite snooty, but had a ribald sense of humour, drank like a fish, was not a stranger to a variety of pills and the city's favourite powder that was shoved up her rather Roman nose in copious quantities. But when you are an heir to a goodly part of Gloucester and Cheltenham, have a mother who has massive shareholdings in several Footsie 100 companies and have a trust fund from your grandparents that would comfortably keep a family of four in good health for the rest of their lives, what's a few thousand here or there on recreational drugs? "Ignore her," Charles whispered into Monica's ear. "She's pissed and can be a right cow, but she's a blast in bed." "Shush," Monica replied giggling. They danced a couple more times and both enjoyed indulging in their pastime. They were at a family wedding. Charles was Monica's second husband's son, her stepson. She was forty-two and he was twenty-six at the time. They did not know each very well as Charles had been at boarding school when she met Bruce, then university and for the past few years he had been working for RBS in Edinburgh. He had, though, recently got a big promotion and was moving to their London office so he was living at home with them for the time being. Over the years, although they did not see that much of each other, they got on well and found they had many things in common more, Monica sometimes thought than she and Bruce had. Bruce was sixteen years her senior and coincidentally Charles was her junior by the same amount. Charles was just taking his exams that would determine which university he would attend when he first met Monica. He loved her at first sight, well in a maternal sort of way of course and felt it was quite cool having such a good looking and sexy bird as his step-mother. Ever since their first meeting he had fancied her. A few weeks after the family wedding, Charles said. "Have you ever tried salsa dancing Monica?" mentioning the rather sexy Latin America dance that was becoming so popular that classes were being set up everywhere, or so it seemed. "Yes, I have." "Like it?" "Yes I do." "There's a class starting in Wanstead soon, fancy coming with me?" "Yes that would be great," she said instinctively, but then looked at Bruce and added. "That's ok isn't it?" She felt a bit silly when she realised that she was asking a dad whether she could go on a sort of a date with his son. They both smiled as they also saw the incongruity of the question. "Well I am certainly not going so if you want to indulge your love of dancing what better way than with my son?" Bruce said not really caring one way or another. * "You're what?" Camille said taking Charles' dick out of her mouth. "Going to salsa dancing with Monica." "Are you fucking joking?" "No, we are." "Where?" "In Wanstead." "Where the fuck's that?" "In Essex not far from where dad and Monica live." "I don't believe it, I tell you can stay here as much as you like and you stay half your time at least in fucking nowhere in Essex. Anyway give me that lovely big cock back and let Cammi make you a very happy boy indeed." And that is precisely what she did. Holding his balls in one hand she slid his cock that she could only just get her lips round in and out of her mouth. She was exceptional at oral sex. She took him near to the point when he would cum and fill her mouth with his thick creamy sperm and stopped. "Turn over big boy," she told him. He rolled onto his front. "Now kneel, bum in the air, legs open and head on your arms." He did as he was asked knowing that Camille was going to indulge herself and him with extended anal sex. She had shown him soon after they met that she liked both giving and taking oral sex on the anus and since then they had both enjoyed it many times. He felt her kneel behind and grip the cheeks of his bum. She pulled them open and held them like that for a moment or two and then Charles felt her blowing in the crease between them. "Oh yes Cam," he groaned. "I'll give you fucking oh yes Cam in minute when I get my tongue up your arse." She slowly licked the length of his crease several times before concentrating on his anus. Pushing her tongue against the puckered darker skin, she gradually wetted and lubricated it so that she could push the tip of it through his sphincter. It was such a turn for Charles, but she made it even better by cupping his balls and stroking his achingly hard dick. "Come on Charlie boy, Cami wants your cum." "You've done me you dirty bitch," he growled. "Mmmm good," she replied scrambling round him and laying by his knees, but still holding onto his cock. "Give it me big boy on my face," she muttered pumping him quickly. Charles let out a series of grunts and growls as he spurted his cum all over Camille's face. Looking down he saw that it was in her hair, over her eyes, on her nose and across her lips. She smiled as she licked her lips and said. "Mmmm that tastes good." * Over the next couple of weeks, Monica and Charles both thought about the upcoming salsa dancing several times and each time Monica was concerned that she had agreed to it. Thinking back to the ballroom classes she had attended and how she had to fight to stop herself 'giving in' to her dance partners, she was worried, very worried how she would be with her stepson. She was so looking forward to it and found herself shivering slightly at the prospect. She could not understand, or did not dare think, just why she was so looking forward to it and put it down to her love of dancing? Charles had no confusion or worries about just why he was looking forward to it. It was straightforward, simple and basic. He wanted to hold Monica, he wanted his step mother to be in his arms and yes he wanted her slim, lithe, but shapely body against his. And he knew, deep down that if the situation presented itself he wanted to fuck her. After all he had wanted to do that since he was eighteen! Monica had nothing suitable to wear at what she imagined, being East London and Essex, would be a fairly dressy occasion with most of the dancers dressing in keeping with Latin traditions. After checking online, she found a shop in Walthamstow that specialised in salsa dance clothing and she bought a vivid red, almost sheath dress that was fairly tight across her breasts with thin spaghetti shoulder straps. It had fringes of tassels that hung down a couple of inches that meant they moved with her body. The skirt was slightly flared with the hem cut in a scallop style with the left side being some ten or so inches above the knee and the right just about four. She already had a pair of black, buckled mid-height heels that went well with the long, black fishnet holdups. She bought a bra and panties that matched the dress and wore her blonde hair up in a bun, a bit like Madonna in Evita. "Wow you look fantastic," they both said when she came downstairs ready to go. "Can I come and watch?" Bruce asked. "Of course," Charles replied, actually feeling a bit pissed off that his dad wanted to attend. 'How the fuck can I try to pull her when my father and her husband is looking on,' he asked himself jokingly for he had no real intention in trying to 'pull' her? 'She's my fucking stepmother for god's sake' he told himself. They both had a really great time at the dance. They must have danced for the best of two hours, mainly together, but several times they were forced to dance with others so that 'everyone gets to know each other' as the rather seedy master of ceremonies said. Having his stepmother in his arms for such a time was a dream come true for Charles. All thoughts of Camille, her wealth, the fantastic head she gave and her flat just behind Harrods in Knightsbridge were pushed from his mind as Monica's lithe body was squirmed against his. Monica was relieved that her outfit fitted in well for she had moments when she wondered whether she would be a little OTT. That she was not, was witnessed by the fact that she did not even get into the top five in the best dressed ladies competition! Other than at the wedding a few weeks ago it had been such a long time since she had ballroom let alone salsa danced with anyone. She had almost forgotten just how intimate it was and how erotic it could be. In most of the dances the man is required to keep the woman's chest pressed against his so that their bodies touch down to their stomachs as they move round the room. His hand that is not holding hers is usually on her waist, but with the rapid movements of some of the dances it often slips, purposefully or accidentally down onto her hip, buttocks or bottom. Their faces are close and particularly with Latin American dancing the woman usually shows lots of leg and bare skin and frequent twirls where she flashes her panties are 'de rigeur.' Many think that it is the nearest thing to having sex that a man and a woman can do together! To Monica, it was all of those things and more as she danced with Charles. They were both quickly into the mood and atmosphere of the dancing forgetting completely that his father, her husband was in the small audience watching. After the last dance, Charles held her and kissed her on both cheeks. "You were fantastic mum and you look even better than that," he grinned holding both of her hands and looking deep into her eyes. That gave Monica a jolt, but she was not sure why or of what? They popped into a Pizza Express on the way home and somehow Monica sat next to Charles with Bruce across the table. She was already feeling a little guilty about how much she had enjoyed being in Charles' arms, being held against him and dancing with him and sitting across from Bruce made that so much worse. That feeling did not recede on the way home. After a quick drink, Monica said that she was off to bed and gave both of them a peck on the cheek. As she kissed Charles his gaze held hers slightly longer than usual and that gave her another jolt of sensations. That stayed with her as she went up the stairs and sat at her dressing table to take her hair down and brush it, a nightly ritual that she tried never to miss. She had only just managed to get her hair down and was half way through brushing it before the door opened and Bruce came in. Watching his wife and son dancing had stirred some strange sensations in him that he could not quite put his finger on. There was one, though, that he felt strongly and that was arousal. Seeing her in that sexy dress had got to him, but then there was also some feelings from watching his wife in his son's arms. Momentarily as he had sat in the audience looking at her dancing in his arms, he visualised them both naked with his son just about to fuck his wife. What with that and the rest of the scantily dressed women many of whom were pretty and sexy he had got an erection then just as it had now as he came up behind Monica and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You look fantastic, Monica. That's an amazing dress," he said squeezing gently. Their eyes met in the mirror and Monica recognised the familiar sign of her husband's arousal. She felt guilty about the jolts of sensation she had experienced with Charles. She grasped Bruce's hand and pulled it down her chest so that it cupped her breast. That was exactly what Bruce had been hoping for. He squeezed the soft, pliant familiar flesh and pinched the hardened nipple. Looking at her in the mirror and smiling he said. "Has dancing with my son made you feel horny?" It had not entered Monica's head until then, but he was right. "No, it's dancing generally does that," she lied standing up. "So you do feel horny?" She looked at him, slid the thin straps off her shoulders and turned her back to him. She did feel horny, but that was mixed with other sensations that she did not want to admit. "Unzip me and I will show you." He did that. "Lay on the bed." She undressed him, then stood beside the bed and slipped the red dress off. Kneeling beside him in her red underwear and long, black fishnet holdups she bent her head towards his waist, her ash-blonde hair tumbling over his stomach. She pushed it out of the way and grasped his cock that was already nice and hard, something that did not happen every time they made love nowadays. She licked it and sucked the end before kissing his balls and taking those into her mouth. He wriggled her bra off and quickly had his hands between her legs right on her clit and lips. Pushing her back onto the bed he yanked the panties off and said. "I think we will keep those stocking right where they are," as he clambered on top of her and pushed himself between her legs that she opened part willingly, but part reluctantly. She wanted sex, she wanted to be fucked, but was not sure that she wanted either from Bruce, her husband. But as he pushed his cock against her lips that became a non-issue and she welcomed his cock surging up her insides. It felt good, of course it did, what horny, relatively young woman what not feel good with a long, thick cock roaring up her? To Monica's surprise and horror, though, particularly as she neared her climax, it was not Bruce who was fucking her, but her stepson! Dancing Into Her Knickers Pt. 01 At almost the same time as Monica shuddered to an orgasm, thinking of Charles, he was laying full length on the sofa in the lounge thinking of her. And as she imagined that he was fucking her, he was imagining that what was wrapped round his cock was not his hand, but her cunt. * They went salsa dancing again a few weeks later and once more Bruce went with them, but after they did not have sex. The next time Charles and Monica went by themselves as Bruce was at a meeting. She had bought an even more revealing outfit in bright yellow. It was backless so she could not wear a bra, although with her pert tits that was not much of an issue. The hem of the skirt was also scalloped, but both sides were shorter so she hardly had to move before her knickers were on show, something that was not at all uncommon at the class. Her legs were tanned from a week in Florida with Emily so she did not need tights or stockings. "You look fantastic," Charles said when he collected her. He had just bought a Porsche and that really is not the preferred car to get into in such an outfit as a salsa dress. "God if I did not know I was due for an evening of ogling that would have been a special show," he smiled. "Yes you'll see lots of sights with all those lovely young things dancing around." Looking Monica direct in the eye, he replied. "I was not talking about ogling them Monica." That confused her "What then?" she asked feeling incredibly naïve as his meaning hit her. "I am sure I don't have to explain further do I?" He asked running his gaze up and down her legs and body. She didn't know what to say as they drove to Wanstead pretty much in silence. It hit her with a little shiver when they were going past the statue of Winston Churchill that this was the first time they had been alone together for ages. Guiltily she thought to myself. 'It's a bit like a date.' And that is how the evening carried on. In the bar before the dancing started as she sipped a glass of white wine and Charles had a Jack Daniels, they were very much a couple keeping themselves to themselves. At times, though, Monica felt a little odd being with a guy so many years younger than her and cringed at some of the stares that were suggesting 'toy boy,' but then what the hell? When they danced it was, as always, wonderful, but this time it felt different. She felt more 'attached' to him, her breasts felt more squashed against his broad chest, his stomach seemed to be tighter to hers and his hand ran softer and more smoothly over her bare back. She felt more obviously the strength in his arms and, more worryingly in his thighs as they pressed against hers in the rhumbas and tangos. Charles was in a total quandary. He had never felt such desire for a woman as he did for Monica. He knew full well that was not caused just by her lovely face, gorgeous body, great legs and to die for arse, but also because she was his step-mother. The taboo, forbidden nature of that relationship added something to the desire that had been with him since he was a schoolboy and had become almost a rage since he had become a man. He and his father had always been competitive, but that had been with sport, or Monopoly or Scrabble, not with women. That, Charles was realising had changing completely. However, as much a he wanted her, he knew that it was impossible. He was too involved with Camille and there was already talk about marriage and for fuck's sake, his dad would go crazy and would blacken his name wherever he could. Even worse he would probably cut him out of his will! And on top of that, whilst he was becoming convinced that Monica and Bruce's 'love affair' was fizzling out, why would she get involved with him? It was messy, she could have most any man she wanted and there were queues at the golf and tennis clubs and, probably at her gym as well, for her attention. Anything between them was a non-starter, but that did not, of course, prevent him sending out invitations and signals in the hope that she might, just might feel inclined to accept one. Hence, as they danced he pulled out all the stops. He held her tighter crushing her neat breasts against his chest. He moved his hand around her back loving the feel of her skin on his fingers. He thrust as firmly as he dared his stomach and cock against her and made sure that their thighs came into as much contact as possible. They hardly spoke on the drive home. Both of them were worried and confused about the sensations and feelings they were experiencing. It had been dawning slowly on both of them that they wanted more, that they wanted to push out the boundaries on their relationship, change it from step-mother and step-son and yes, maybe make love to each other. But they hardly let such thoughts stay in their mind for any time before casting them aside. It was all too dangerous, too risky and fraught with problems. On top of that both had no conviction at all that their feelings were reciprocated by the other and the thought of 'making a play' and being rejected was simply awful. * "Are you sure that fucking big thing won't rip my arse apart," the woman said to Bruce when he had asked if she did anal. "It has never done that so far and I am sure that you're a pretty big girl down there aren't you?" "You saying that I have a big arse Bruce." "No of course not he said," running his hand over the rather pert bottom of the woman lying on the bed on her front next to him. "Just that as you have had some er, um anal practice I expect the aperture has widened and the entrance has been loosened." "Maybe." "After all you took my two fingers easily." She reached out and gripped his semi-erect cock. "Yes but they are nothing like this." They had been in bed for an hour or so. He had made her cum with his hands and mouth and she had sucked him nicely, but not to ejaculation. Even with bits on the side he could rarely cum more than once in an evening so he had not yet fucked her. That's where the anal chat discussion had arisen. He had been lying beside her sucking her nipples. "Harder," she asked. He sucked harder. "Bite them." He did. Now bite harder, hurt me." He bit her extended nipple as hard as he dared fearing that he might draw blood. It seemed, though that the harder he bit her the more she moaned and groaned. Bruce had met pain junkies before and was always a little circumspect with them, but this one was different and unusually was more than willing to take it up the arse although he had not been there, yet. Still biting her hugely erect nipple very hard he got three fingers up her pussy and started to finger fuck her. "Yeah, yeah go on Brucey, harder and faster." He did that until he made her cum noisily and energetically with her nearly screaming and her body bucking like a colt that was not broken in. Unlike many women she recovered very quickly. Bruce had hardly removed his fingers away from her shaved pussy before he was stroking her again. This time, though, his fingers on his right hand slid along her wet pussy lips and went further into the crease in her bum. He pressed on her hole and she pressed back. It was a little tight between her bum, the backs of her legs and the bed so he lifted them and dangled them over his left shoulder. He could see her swollen, soaked lips between the tops of her thighs and the crease between her cheeks. Pulling one of her legs down his arm a little he opened up her legs and the crease. The lovely, darker, sensitive, puckered skin surrounding her anus was on show. Running his fingers down her wet lips he pressed one right against the hole. "Yes," she grunted grabbing his cock a little too hard. His finger slid in very easily and was quickly in past the first knuckle. "Do two," she told him. He did and two finger fucked her arse until she had a climax. * That evening Monica and Charles went to the salsa dancing again and this time were persuaded to enter a competition. "Why the hell did we do that?" Charles asked as they drove home. "God knows," Monica replied acutely aware of just how much leg she was showing as she lay almost flat on the seat of the Porsche on the way home. Not only was she aware of that, but also she had noted Charles' eyes flittering from looking ahead to her legs as he drove through South Woodford. As they completed the last few miles to the house so her brain was buzzing with thoughts. Surely it was all in her mind? Surely a guy of his age and good looks would not be interested in a woman so many years older than him? Surely he would not want to try anything with his father's wife, his step-mother? Would he, she asked herself as once more she saw that he was glancing at her legs? How Charles stopped himself from reaching out and placing his hand on her knee he had no idea. Her legs looked so inviting and as he drove he felt himself hardening as he imagined stopping in a dark place and running his hand up the inside of her tanned legs until they reached her red panties. 'I wonder, I just wonder?' He asked himself. 'She's so fucking friendly that she just might be up for something. After all we do go dancing and that is a sort of date and when I hold her tight, maybe too tight she does not push me off, he reconciled? "Well we will have to practice if we want to get anywhere." * There's some almond oil in my bag," she said to him an hour or so after enjoying the two finger bum fuck and the conversation about having anal. "Really?" Bruce smiled leaning over her and licking her nipple. "Now why do I need to know that?" "Because darling it's time for you to fuck my arse," she said getting off the bed, moving across the room and rummaging through her large Mulberry wag's bag. As she bent over to get it, so Bruce had a glorious view of her pert bum, her lips between her upper thighs and the crease in her bottom. He began to harden again. It was like that for him now. When he was with one of his bits on the side he would get an erection quite quickly and hold that for maybe half an hour or so as they undressed and played with each other. He would probably then make her cum with his mouth or fingers and after that as they chatted and had a drink while she came down from her orgasm he would go soft. When they got going again the same sort of thing would happen, get hard, mess around and then soften. A couple of times with escort girls or hookers he had not been able to get hard again and that really pissed him off; in his mind, he put it down to brewer's droop! The trick that he had now to master was choosing the time to cum. Too soon and the fun would be over; and that had happened a few times as well. Twice, particularly sexy women had excited him so much that he had cum within ten minutes or so of them entering his hotel room and what a waste that was as he knew he would not make it again. On the other hand, if he left it too long and had got hard and softened several times, there was some doubt as to whether he would be able conjure yet another erection almost on demand. So looking at the delicious bum and engorged cunt lips as she got the oil from her bag and thinking about what he was going to he was pleased that he was hardening and knew that now was the time to fuck her and cum. As she got back on the bed she asked. "How do you want to do this?" "I don't mind, do you have a preference?" "Well as you are on the largish size," she said pleased to see that he was almost erect and deciding to help him by stroking it. "Not me on all fours." "Fair do," he replied pinching her extremely swollen nipple. "How then?" "Like this," she said laying on her back, pushing a pillow under her bottom, raising her legs so they were almost pressing on her small tits and opened them. Smiling she added. "Give us both something to play with as we do it won't it?" * "Look just shut the fuck up," Charles shouted at Camille in her flat in Knightsbridge. "Why should I?" the half stoned socialite screamed back. "You spend more time with her than with me." "Wonder why?" "Because you want to fuck her, that's why." "But I fuck you, don't I?" "Yes and you probably fuck her too," Camille replied wondering why the hell she was wandering round her flat in just her knickers at four in the afternoon. 'Where the fuck did the morning go?' she asked herself. Charles had told Camille that he was going to the house tonight to practice for the competition. "You are fucking joking aren't you?" "What?" "About going out to dreary fucking Essex to practice with her." "No not at all." "Are you seriously telling me that you want to do that rather than have dinner at Nubo then the do at Aura." "Actually Camille yes, I am. I am totally fed up with that bunch you run with." "Charles please," Camille said moving close to him. "What?" "Fuck me." "Now?" "Yes right here and now, I want you to fuck me," she said thrusting her small breasts that were almost just nipples at him. At the same time she reached out and grabbed at his cock. Charles backed off a bit. "Not right now Camille," he replied feeling slightly disgusted at his girl-friend, a feeling that was occurring more frequently recently. "Come on you know I'm the best fuck in town so get on with it," she said pushing her panties down and exposing her totally bald mons to Charles. "I said that you can be the best Camille not are the best and in the state you are in you would be fucking useless." "You cunt," she snarled walking over to the table and picking up her glass of vodka. "You just want to save yourself for that whore of a mother of yours." "Step-mother, Camille, there is a difference." "Yeah right you can legally fuck those and not your mum. So go and fuck her and see if she can be the best in town." The row fizzled out as Camille went and had a shower and Charles left for Essex. The rows were becoming more frequent and verbally violent. Charles put that down to her heavier drinking, the pills and the coke, but there was the possibility that the more he thought about Monica the more he almost looked for arguments with Camille. And he had though a lot about Monica today, knowing that they would be dancing in the house later. He knew that Bruce was on a business trip to Dublin and that they would be alone. That was partly the reason they had arranged the practice for this afternoon and evening. They could take over the reasonable sized lounge and play the music on her iPod as loud as they like. When Charles had mentioned practising for the competition, Monica had not realised that would mean them being together in the house alone and dancing. As Charles was waiting for his flat in Docklands to be finished he split his time between the house and Camille's flat. That meant that they were sometimes alone in the house together, but that was not dancing of course. Recently, when it was just the two of them in the house, Monica had felt on edge, a little worked up and nervous. She knew that was because during the past few weeks since the time Bruce had made love to her and Charles came into her mind near to the point of her orgasm, she had been having even more vivid thoughts about her step-son. As he held her when they danced she imagined them both being naked in each other's arms. As they danced and she felt the bulge in his trousers press against her pubic mound so she visualised undoing his zip and holding his penis. At times she even found herself visualising just what his cock was like. All of this was so unlike her. She was generally very level headed about men and rarely had crushes on them or met men she fancied. True for some time the idea of having someone who would provide her with more frequent sex had appealed to her and as she masturbated she imagined that she was being fucked, but she kept her fantasies very general. Now, though, try as she might the more she danced with him the more, and she could not admit this, she wanted him. The more she wanted to be naked with him, for him to hold and stroke her tingling body, for her to hold, stroke, caress and suck his cock and for them to fuck. Yes she knew deep down in the darkest recesses of her mind that she wanted her step-son to fuck her. But as much as deep down she thought that was what she wanted, she also realised it was impossible and would never happen. She considered wearing one of the half a dozen dresses she had bought for the salsa, but thought that might be tempting fate too much. 'But then,' she thought as she got ready to greet Charles to their dance practice. 'Was that not exactly what she did want to do - tempt fate?' Rejecting the idea of a dance dress, she knew though that she would have to wear a skirt for that played an essential part in some dances and the shape and angle of her legs had to be very visible for they were important to the points they would score. She decided on a simple blue with yellow motives and markings skirt that was loose and slightly flared and came to just a few inches above her knee. Purposefully, it was more demure than the special salsa dresses she had bought, but it would enable her to 'flash her knickers' as some of the dances, particularly the pasa doble, demanded. On top she wore an equally simple and she thought unsexy and unglamorous, short sleeved, scooped front pullover blouse. It was made from yellow silk and the hem just reached the waist of her skirt so that when she moved an expanse of her waist and chest was exposed. Charles was wearing a black tee and beige, lightweight, quite loose chinos. Monica thought he looked very sexy; Charles thought that she looked as if she wanted to be fucked. Dancing Into Her Knickers Pt. 02 The Mutual Seduction How a step-mom drifts into sex with her step-son. "Would you like a drink?" She asked feeling hellishly nervous. "Yes thanks, a glass of Bruce's best claret would go down very well." They chatted as he followed Monica into the kitchen where she opened a bottle of white wine for her and Charles went into Bruce's wine cupboard and brought out a bottle of fifteen year old Bordeaux. "One thing about my old man, he keeps a good stock of wine," he said turning as he opened the bottle and looking straight at Monica as he added. "He likes the finer things in life." She looked away as she understood the double meaning 'Oh fuck,' he thought. 'How the hell am I going to get through the evening with her looking like that?' She was wearing mid-height, strappy heels and had her ash-blonde hair half up, but with lots of tresses hanging down her face and neck. She looked fantastic. They sipped their wine and Charles gave Monica the iPod with the music for the dancing on it. They had to do salsa variations of a number of dances for which Charles had chosen the music and tonight was Monica's chance to agree or not with his choice. "Right shall we get going?" He asked. "Yes let's," she replied feeling little tremors run through her as he followed her from the kitchen into the lounge. She put the iPod on and the familiar Latin music filled the room. He took her in his arms and she felt a shiver go through her. She had built this moment up so much over the past few days that now it was here she was not at all sure she would be able to handle it. Part of her wanted to let go of him and leave the room. Another part was relishing the idea of dancing with him and yet another part could think of little else than being fucked by him. The first dance did not go well. They made several silly, very basic mistakes, which was unusual for them. Monica was acutely aware why they made them and that was because she was not relaxed, she was not able to focus her mind on the tempo or steps and she was highly nervous. This was not how she usually was even in front of the audience and other dancers at the salsa classes. But she knew the reason and that was the young man with who she was dancing. Charles was not analysing the situation as deeply as Monica and he was concentrating on other things. At the last two salsa dances he had, to his enormous dread, felt stirrings downstairs and could so easily have got an erection. That, he guessed would have brought an end to their dancing. Now, though was worse than the dances. Being alone with her made all the thoughts and feelings that had run through him increasingly more frequently in the past few months, simply more intense. The stirrings had been there most of the way to the house from Camille's place. In fact as he drove along the Embankment by Blackfriars he had a full erection and he thought seriously about stopping and jerking off. That might he thought give him more control when he held Monica. And now holding her as they finished the awful cha, cha cha, he wished he had stopped for his control was terrible. "Let's have a few minutes break and finish the wine." "Reckon we have much chance?" She asked as they stood in the kitchen sipping their wine. "Not if we dance like that," Charles replied wondering if that was the hint of a hardened nipple he could see under her top; it was, but Monica had not noticed. In the competition they would need to perform three different dances drawn from the cha cha cha, paso doble, rumba, samba, Latin jive and the tango. This evening they had planned to dance all six and work out the ones they were most comfortable with and then practice those. They were all quite sensuous dances, but of course, the tango was by far the sexiest for some people considered it to be a representation of a couple having sex. There is one particular movement in the version of the tango they had been taught at the salsa class where the woman has to lean backwards until she is almost laying down and being supported by the man's hands behind her waist. Her legs are slightly parted and their stomachs are pressed together. The angles they have to make with their bodies means that the man's genitals are, or should be if danced correctly, pressed right against the woman's. It is probably the most suggestive move in any dance for the woman could so easily be laying back on a table naked and the man could be making love to her; the positions are exactly the same. They did a couple more, which were slightly better and then it was the paso doble. Monica had relaxed a little, but was still finding being so close to Charles, being alone with him and being in his arms amazingly arousing. She had now given up all pretence of denying to herself of being attracted to him, not fancying him and not dreaming of having sex with him. She was reconciled to the fact that, under other circumstances she would want him, but she was married and he was her stepson so the circumstances were far from normal and anything further was impossible. They danced a good paso doble. Based on the Spanish and Portuguese bullfights, it is a lively and joyous dance with the woman at times in the dance representing the bullfighter's cloak whereas at other times she becomes the bullfighter and uses her skirt as the cloak. It is the dance where, probably the woman's knickers are most on show. Monica was naturally an enthusiastic dancer. She always threw herself into the dance and let her body be taken over by the music. That was nowhere more so than in the paso doble, which was probably her favourite Latin dance. Charles could hardly restrain himself when they got to the point in the dance where he was on one knee representing the wounded bull and Monica was dancing around him as the toreador. This required her to high step round and round Charles gradually getting closer and closer to him until his face was almost touching her panties. A key part of this section of the dance was that she used her skirt as the matador's cloak meaning that as Monica rotated round Charles so she was holding the hem of her skirt above her waist with her blue panties on show to him all the time. It was as she was doing this exhibition that she realised that she was wearing normal bikini type panties and not the high-waisted, tight at the thighs completely opaque dancing knickers. Charles could not tear his eyes away from the pale blue panties and the shadow of her pubic hairs inside them. This went on for a few minutes until he grabbed her and pulled her to his face. Having her stomach pressed against Charles' face with his mouth very near to her pussy was so arousing that Monica broke away as quickly as she could. Naturally, the scene was as equally exciting for Charles and it took all of his resolve to stop pulling her face even closer and pressing his tongue against her pubic that was just beneath his chin. Although the paso doble excited them, mainly because of that scene, they still did not crack it as they wanted to. They made several mistakes, did not really 'flow' together, the dance seemed uncoordinated and they were disappointed once more. They had both agreed to leave the tango to last so the next one they rehearsed was the samba. More of a Brazilian dance than anything else it symbolises the Mardi Gras spirit and, although not as erotic as the tango, it is more raw and raunchy. There was a particular move where Monica had to turn her back on Charles and fall backwards with him catching her as she raised one leg in the air with her skirt falling away to reveal her legs and panties. The first time they tried they were hopeless, she was far too low when he caught her. The next time he nearly missed her and the third time his hands grasped her shoulders rather than the small of her back. On the fourth attempt they cracked it spot on. As they stood up, Charles put his arms round her and kissed her on the cheek. "Well done Mons that was fantastic," he gushed using the pet name that only Bruce usually used. "Mons?" She replied. "Sorry." "Never mind," Monica replied wondering why he had used the double entendre on her name. They moved onto the tango. Charles had to hold her particularly tightly. With the tango, unlike the other dances it was not just their upper bodies that had to be moulded together. With this 'sex on legs' dance they had to keep their bodies right down to their genitals and then their thighs, most of the time, pressed together. Monica had been dreading doing this for she was worried that Charles would get to her too much. At the same time, Charles was concerned that he would start to harden. And he did. But as they glided round the lounge as if tied together he did not just start to harden, but fully hardened. She felt it immediately, there was no way she could not feel it. At first he hoped she wouldn't, but as his impressive seven or eight thick inches expanded in his thin, loose trouser he knew full well that his step-mother would realise that he had an erection. Monica's heart started to pound when she felt the first movements of him against the base of her stomach. 'Surely not, surely he is not getting hard?' she thought to herself as involuntarily, almost, she pressed back against it. He tried to put some space between them so that perhaps, just perhaps he could get away with it, but space between stomachs and the tango were unnatural bedfellows. He realised that as he moved away so Monica moved her body forward, presumably, Charles thought, trying to preserve the integrity of the dance. That was partly the case, but also so was Monica being excited at him getting hard over her. 'Surely that means he wants me,' she thought. 'Surely that means he wants us to have sex,' she conjectured. It became impossible. Charles now had his bottom stuck out and was bent forward at the waist, whilst Monica was thrusting her stomach forward to maintain the contact that was certainly required by the dance and now by her aroused state as well. Charles gave in. He stopped dancing and moved away a little. He let go of her hand, but kept the other on her back just by her bra strap. Avoiding her gaze for a moment in fear of what she might think and say, he looked up and was mortified to see that she was staring at the bulge in his thin trousers. He looked down as well and the erection was even more obvious than he had imagined it would be. Monica's heart pounded faster and harder when she saw the fullness and sheer size of his hardon. "Sorry Monica," he mumbled. She smiled. "Don't worry, I won't tell your dad." That made Charles smile as well and also gave him confidence. "Thanks I would hate him knowing." "Knowing what?" "That his wife excites me." Monica had rarely heard words with such an erotic and sexual undertone. "Does she?" she rather naively asked, excited and pleased at what he had said. "Well I would hardly have this if she didn't would I?" He said looking down at the very obvious bulge in his trousers. She had no reply to that so Charles persisted. "Would I Monica?" Still standing in the middle of the lounge with the tango music playing and Charles arm round her waist, she mumbled a reply. "No I suppose not Charles." "Does it bother you Monica?" "No. No not really Charles." "And you won't tell Bruce about it?" "No." "What would you tell him about?" Monica was not clear on just where this was going or what he meant. "I don't know," she mumbled as she felt his hand pressing more firmly on her back mid-way between her bra strap and the waist band of her skirt. Charles was now very aroused, slightly more confident, but still not sure whether he was making a fool of himself or whether, and in his wildest dreams he could not seriously contemplate this, his step-mother was up for it with him. Could she really fancy me, he asked himself? He plucked up all his courage. "Would you tell him about this," he asked in a croaky voice as he pulled Monica towards him, moulded her body to his, moved his face close to hers and brushed his lips across her gorgeous mouth. 'He's going to kiss me,' she thought. 'Oh god what shall I do?' 'She's up for it, she wants it?' Charles thought loving the softness of her full lips on his. Monica's lips were so different to Camille's whose were thin and did not have the voluptuousness of Monica's, although she did give great head! And then they did kiss. His hand pulled her firmly against him and then his lips found hers and squirmed against them. At first, Monica remained passive; she did not resist, but at the same time she did not respond. She was surprised that Charles had had the pluck to kiss her, but thrilled that he had. Her problem was how to respond. Again the frustrated woman inside her screamed open your lips and shove your tongue in his mouth, whilst the wife and step-mother said push him off. Charles could not believe how wonderful it was to have Monica squashed against his body and her mouth clasped to his. With the vigour and adventurousness of youth, he saw things in a straight line. She was letting him kiss her and was kissing him back and thus, she would want him to fuck her. He was not far wrong, but the things she had to take into consideration were her concerns over her marital vows and her worries about having sex outside her marriage. It was those which had fucked up her first one and she was reluctant to let it be them, which fucked up her second. Despite those concerns she could not stop herself kissing him back. Their mouths were open and their tongues were duelling as he crushed her against him and she squirmed against his luscious erection. His hands found her pert bum and he squeezed both cheeks as he pulled her mound harder against his erection. His excitement was now immense and he wanted more. He reached down and slid his hands under her skirt, up her legs and onto her panty covered bum. It felt awesome to Charles. Although it felt wonderful for Monica as well, the enormity of what they were doing hit her. She was in her step son's arms, she was kissing him, his hands were on her bottom, she was squirming against his erection and they were starting to have sex. If she did nothing she knew they would end up in bed making love. She knew that she would commit adultery with her husband's son in her home and that scared her. But the thought of what would happen after they had sex scared her even more? She pulled away. "No Charles, no, we can't" Charles was shocked and surprised, but understood. "Sorry Monica, I got carried away." Monica walked away. "Let's freshen those drinks," she said walking towards the kitchen. Charles followed her lusting at the taught buttocks and shapely, tanned bare legs that he was following. As they sat across the kitchen table from each other, Charles felt embarrassed and concerned. He also felt worried that Monica would feel so annoyed that she would tell Bruce. It was not so much that he was scared of his father, but that he would feel embarrassed and foolish and anything with Camille, who already suspected there was something between him, and Monica would be finished if Bruce told her as Charles knew that he would. On top of that he would feel pissed off that he had so misread the situation that he had got it all wrong with Monica. But had he got it wrong, he asked himself as they sipped their wine? She hadn't minded the erection and had even said it did not matter and joked about not telling Bruce. So she could not have been pissed off at that and then of course she had let him kiss her and had even responded. It was only when he so fucking stupidly went too far too soon and put his hands up her skirt onto her bum that it all kicked off and she pushed him off. Monica was also confused. She still felt excited and the memories of Charles' erection pressing against her, being in his arms, them kissing and her squirming against his cock, was vivid. She had enjoyed all that and that was not surprising because she had been fantasising about it for some time. Just as she had been fantasising about making love to him, so why the fuck had she pushed him off and why were they were sitting sipping wine instead of being in bed fucking, she asked herself? "I really am sorry about what we did Monica," Charles blurted out. "It's ok Charles," she rather thoughtlessly replied. "Was it?" He asked his hopes perking up. "Was it what?" "Ok?" Monica smiled at the verbal confusion. "Well yes and no, I mean, oh sod it Charles, I don't know what I mean," she babbled. And she really did not know what she meant for she was so torn. He looked so handsome and desirable and his concern that he had done wrong was touching. Part of her wanted to reach out for him, kiss him again and tell him that yes it was not only ok but bloody fantastic. Still, though she was worried about the aftermath. She was no longer concerned that she may have read him incorrectly for his erection and him kissing her proved he wanted her. It was two things now that worried the life out of her. One was the sheer enormity of fucking your stepson and secondly was what would happen after they had sex? Would it be for him just a one-time fuck as, indeed would it be that for her? She had never been that much into such things and wondered if they did spend tonight shagging how they would cope with tomorrow? More salient, though, was, if it was not to be a one-night stand what would it be? If her feelings for him now were anything to go on, then it could easily turn into something much, much bigger. Over the past few weeks as those feelings had intensified, Monica had conjectured that she might fall for him or they might both fall in love with each other. The big, sixty four thousand dollar question to which she had no answer whatsoever was, what then? Without thinking, Charles reached across the table and held her hands. He looked into her eyes and said. "Oh Monica, I feel just the same." Her heart leaped at his sincerity. "How do you feel Charles, what do you mean?" "I want to be with you so badly, I hardly think of anything else," he went on gripping her hands tightly. "Oh Charles you mustn't feel that or think that." "But don't you Monica, don't you feel something like that?" She could not bring herself to say what she felt and what he so badly wanted to hear. "Just tell me that when we were kissing you didn't feel it." Monica smiled. "Yes Charles I did feel it both before and during our kissing." Realising she was using a double entendre, he smiled back. "Hmmm, yes well I couldn't help that, it is just what you do to me," he went on lifting her hand and kissing her palm. It felt lovely and Monica knew that her resolve was weakening. "Be truthful Monica you do feel something for me don't you?" With such a straight question her resistance simply disappeared. "Yes Charles, yes I do." Feeling elated, he got up, walked round the table and pulled Monica to her feet. "Let me kiss you again, may I?" "Yes, oh yes Charles," she sighed falling into his arms as they bodies moulded together. The kiss was long, lingering, very physical and passionate and completely uninhibited; now they had made their 'confessions' they simply looked to enjoy the other person. They used their open mouths and tongues, they sucked the other's lips and squirmed their mouths together. His hands ran up and down her back, but discretely stayed away from her awesome bottom that he desperately wanted to touch and feel. Her hands ruffled his hair and explored his broad and muscular back, but discretely stayed away from the large bulge in his thin trousers that she just as desperately wanted to hold and, Monica had to admit, see. Dancing Into Her Knickers Pt. 02 He was already hardening when he suggested they go back to the lounge. She agreed and on the way set the locks on the electronic notepad that controlled the house. "He won't be home, but just in case," she said as Charles came out of the kitchen with two glasses of wine that he put on the coffee table. "Let's sit on the sofa," he suggested. He put his arm round her, pulled her to him and they again kissed long and passionately. "This is so wonderful," he whispered into her ear as they fell backwards into the corner of the sofa. He was lying half on top of her and half on the sofa. She could feel that awesome bulge that had so excited her when they had danced pressing into the outside of her right leg just beneath her hip bone. God how she wanted to see it and hold it. "Yes Charles, yes it is," she breathed as surge after surge of strong feelings roared through her inflamed body. They kissed again. This time there was no hesitancy with it. Both their emotional and sexual confidences had been boosted by the moments of affection and the admissions of their feelings and the wine had reduced their inhibitions. The thinking and anticipation they had both undergone in the recent past and the experiences of this evening had primed and prepared for them making love to each other, which they were now starting to do. That said Charles, ever the pessimist was not totally sure that she would let him go all the way this evening. Many women had a sort of process and full sex did not sometimes feature until the third or fourth date; he wondered whether his step-mother followed a process like that? In some ways that did not matter to him. Just being with her in any sexual way and knowing that there was affection and desire on her part was magic for him and anything else would just be even more icing on the cake. As they lay on the sofa and kissed though, it was inevitable that he caressed her intimately. As she was running her hands through his hair and up and down his back, it was almost without thinking or planning that his hand found her breast through the silk of her top. The feeling was exquisite and made her jump with pleasure. The excitement roared through his body as, feeling no resistance whatsoever, he squeezed her delicious breasts and pinched her nipples. He rolled a little more onto her so that his now full erection was pressed on the fleshy top of her leg rather than near to the firmer hip bone. It sunk sensuously into her flesh and he pushed harder making a firmer impression of his length and girth on her upper leg. Monica now knew that she would have full sex with him, in fact she knew that she was desperate to have it with him. Every nerve end and sinew in her body was screaming out for him to satisfy her sexually even more than what was he was doing with his mouth on hers, his hands on her breasts and nipples and his gorgeous erection that he was rubbing against her leg. Glancing down as they broke the kiss he saw the vividly erotic vision of Monica's long, bare, tanned legs stretched out before her from the sofa. Her blue and yellow, thin skirt had ridden up to her mid-thighs and her legs were slightly parted even though she was trying desperately to retain her decorum by pushing her knees as close together as she could get them. After his previous attempt at getting his hands up her skirt he hesitated from doing what his body and particularly his dick were urging him to do. As he kissed her again and pinched her nipples through her top, he questioned himself and sort of analysed the situation and them. Surely this was now a done deal, he was thinking as Monica sucked on his lower lip and slid her fingers inside the waist of his trousers at the back? Surely, despite their relationship she would not stop now? Surely she was as up for it as he was? In truth he was absolutely correct, but he did not know that, well not for a while yet. It happened almost by accident. The action that turned what they were doing from heavy petting into serious sex came about by chance and not planning. Charles moved his body a little to get more comfortable and his hand brushed her knee. He realised that she did nothing other than return his kiss more fervently. Plucking up courage he brushed his fingertips again across her bare leg a few inches above her knee. Still nothing so he put his hand right on her knee. It felt lovely. It was so smooth and soft and still there was no objection from her. From her perspective why would there be as his touch on her bare skin was as welcome as it was exciting. 'Oh fuck,' he thought she really is up for it. 'Oh yes,' she thought he's going to go further. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure that he would hear it, but of course he did not. 'It's shit or bust time,' he thought to himself as he moved his hand a few inches, upwards. Still no objection. He went further so that it slid under the hem of the skirt that was just above her mid-thigh. Once more she did nothing to deter him, but why would she, after all he was doing precisely what she wanted him to do? As he inched even further her expectancy of the sex and satisfaction that she was sure he would provide soared ever higher. Now emboldened by her lack of reaction, he went on, he went further, he went for what he thought would be going for broke. His hand covered the last few inches of her upper thigh and pressed against her panty covered mound. The feelings as he accidentally or purposefully pressed right on her clit were stupendous and caused Monica to do three things each of which were amazing for Charles. She grunted and moaned. "Oh yes." She let her thighs open and she slid her hand down and found his erection inside his trousers. The time for being demure, for pretence, for playing the 'will I won't I' game had gone. "Ok Mons?" He asked smiling to himself that she did not correct him, but instead replied. "Are you talking to me or what you have in your hand?" she asked slipping her fingers down the front of his trousers. He reached up and undid his belt and zip. "Both," he replied watching in amazement as Monica sat up and in one quick movement yanked her top up, over her head and off. Shaking her hair back in place she reached behind her, unclipped her bra and removed it. "Oh my god Monica you look awesome, you have such beautiful breasts," he moaned. "I'll show you mine Charles if you show me yours," she grinned nodding at his trousers. Charles nearly exploded with excitement at both the sight of his topless step-mother and the thought that she was asking him to remove his trousers. Monica was now relaxed. She was confident of her body and knew that she would be able to satisfy Charles in bed. She had put 'tomorrow' and the aftermath of what they were about to do out of her mind. As he struggled his trousers off, she leaned forward and undid his shirt. He had a lovely chest. It was muscular, but not too bulky, nicely hairy and lightly tanned. Memories of being squashed against it so many times as they danced flooded her mind, but they were now accompanied by the prospect of having her bare breasts crushed against its hirsute roughness and that made her shudder with want. He struggled his trousers and socks off and she helped him with his shirt. For a couple of moments they just looked at each other in their semi-undressed states; they made a glamorous and hugely erotic couple. They kissed again and this time Monica's breasts were squashed against his bare chest and it was every bit as lovely as she had imagined. They manoeuvred their bodies so that they were laying on the sofa on their sides in each other's arms. He kissed her breasts and she held his cock inside his boxers. His hand went between her legs again and stroked the wetness of the gusset covering her lips. She pushed on the waist of his boxers. "Take them off Charles, let me see you." Rolling away from her he wriggled them down a little so that his cock popped out. It was a lovely cock, pale coloured it was smooth and uncircumcised. Similar in length to Bruce's, it was even thicker than his and that made Monica both excited and a little worried as she struggled sometimes to accept easily her husband's. Nevertheless, a low groan escaped from her mouth as she held it both of her hands. "Mmmm that's lovely," she whispered into his ear revelling in the feel of it in her hands. He kissed her breasts again and sucked one of her prominent nipples into his mouth. "And that's lovely too," she sighed running her fingers through his hair. "Undress for me Mons, let me see you naked," he whispered. She stood up just a few feet away from where he lay gloriously naked and magnificently rampant full length on the sofa. Reaching behind her she slid the short zip down on the skirt and pushed that down. "You are looking awesome mum," he smiled ogling her clad in just the blue, bikini panties. "You don't look so bad yourself," she replied kneeling beside the sofa, bending forward, holding his cock and kissing it. "Oh yes," he said. She licked its length and then took him into her mouth and sucked him. "Not too much Monica, I can't take a lot of that." "I bet you don't say that to Camille do you?" "Don't go there." Standing up she slowly slid her panties off and stepped out of them wonderfully naked. "I can hardly believe this can you?" He asked as she sat beside him and again stroked his cock as he cupped her tits, leaned forward and sucked quite hard on her nipples that always looked as though they were hard and erect. "No Charles I can't." "Are you happy with this Monica?" "Yes, but ask me again tomorrow," I smiled. You laughed. "Yes I know what you mean." "Where does Camille feature in all this Charles?" "Probably the same as Bruce I guess, but let's forget them for now." "Yes worry about them tomorrow shall we?" "Yes, because my lovely we have other things to do that are more important don't we?" "What like this for instance," Monica said stroking his swollen dick. "Or this," Charles said slipping his hand onto her pubic mound and pushing against her closed thighs. She looked up at him, he raised his eyebrows enquiringly. Instinctively she knew what he meant. Holding his gaze as her fingers ran up and down his erection, she let her legs fall open. His hand immediately slipped downwards, his fingers sliding into her wetness. Shock waves of sensation rushed through her and she clung to him when he pushed two or three fingers up her. "Oh Charles," she groaned as he pumped his fingers slowly, but meaningfully in and almost out of her. "Nice?" He asked kissing her and pulling her tighter to him. "It's lovely," she sighed slowly pumping his gorgeous cock. "So is that, but Monica you had better stop." She looked into his eyes again and smiling said softly. "Why?" "Because you will make me cum?" Holding his gaze at the same time as holding his cock she whispered. "So, is that a problem?" "Not if it isn't for you Mons." Smiling and pumping his cock a little faster as she knew Bruce liked to be wanked, she said. "Not only is it not a problem Charles, but I am starting." "To cum?" "Yes," she groaned as the marvellous and familiar pre orgasm feelings spread through her body. She fell back into the corner of the sofa with her legs open. Charles shuffled closer so she could still hold his cock and could comfortably finger fuck her. It took only a few moments for both of them to go over the top. "I'm cumming Mons, I'm cumming," Charles grunted pumping himself in and out of the surrogate cunt formed by Monica's hand. "Oh yes, Charles yes," Monica groaned her head thrashing uncontrollably from side to side as the full force of her orgasm hit her. His cock exploded and gush after gush of thick, creamy sperm shot from it covering his hand and stomach with one stream splashing onto her stomach. "Sorry," he mumbled trying to wipe it away with his hand. "Don't worry Charles I have had more." "From Bruce?" "Let's leave him out shall we?" "Yes let's. Let me clean up." Charles went off his bathroom upstairs and Monica lay there for a few moments contemplating what they had done and where this might lead. She assumed with a rush of excitement that they would sleep together tonight for him staying had always been on the cards. She tried thinking of what might happen then, but drew a complete blank. Whether it would be an occasional get together, a full on affair or just this as a one night stand she could not work out and deep down, that did not really matter for she didn't know what she wanted. Cleaned up, Charles slipped into a deep red, dressing gown and came back downstairs. Monica was not there, presumably he thought in her bathroom. He poured himself another glass of the delicious claret and sat down and waited, his balls already tingling with expectancy of being needed to work again very soon. Obviously, he had no idea of Monica's requirements sexually and whether she would want it several times tonight, but whatever she wanted he was pretty sure he would be able to accommodate her needs. Camille when only partly stoned had a voracious appetite and it was not uncommon for him to cum four or five times in a session. Another side of him, his more half empty side was thinking, perhaps that's it and she had gone to bed full of regrets. He sat there for a while longer not knowing what to do. Should he go up and knock on her door or just wait? He was in a quandary for he was convinced she had enjoyed it and he knew that she had cum, but was there too much guilt for her perhaps? His phone buzzed with the text has arrived tone. All it said was: Bring the wine with you But there was a smiley face. Holding the bottles of wine in one hand and the glasses in the other he walked up the wide staircase and along the corridor to the master bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and he could see that it was dimly lit. Pushing the door open he saw that there was a single lit candle, but no other light. Monica was in the bed covered by a sheet with her shoulder-length, greyish, blonde hair tumbling over the pillow. The sheet on the side of the bed where she was not laying was folded back. It was both a highly romantic and hugely erotic scene and he felt himself starting to harden. "Hi, just what does a girl need to do to get a drink round here?" she smiled at him. Charles laughed. "Maybe invite the wine waiter into your bed," he said placing the bottles and glasses on the bedside table. "Be my guest then," Monica said lifting up the sheet. Monica was thinking that if anything this was going even better than she had imagined and then, it got even better. After putting the bottles and glasses down Charles turned and looked at Monica. 'Fuck she looks great,' he thought, feeling a surge of jealousy that she belonged to his father who probably fucked the arse off her quite regularly. As he undid the tie on the dressing gown he wondered to himself not if his dad fucked the arse off her, but whether he fucked her arse at all, for that was something he had never done until he met Camille who loved having sex up her bum. It was now a sex act that he and she did regularly. Letting the gown fall open, he stood there for a moment or two as he watched Monica's gaze travel up and down his body. He knew he had a good one and that it was sexually attractive. He was firm and taught, had no spare flesh anywhere and had broad, fairly hairy chest, a narrow waist, a nice six pack and a great cock, and that was just the front view, which was what Monica was seeing. In his opinion and from what others had told him the rear view was as good for he had a pert, firm arse and good legs, but Monica was still to see that. However, what she did see as his dressing gown fell open was his rapidly hardening cock and beautifully flat stomach. Charles watched her eyes guzzle up his body, particularly his cock as he shrugged the robe off and let it fall to the floor. To Monica his naked form climbing into her bed was as erotic a sight as she had ever seen. They slid so easily into each other's arms. Feeling his body against hers sent shock waves of arousal and want through her and filled him with such a strong need to fuck her that he became fully erect. Almost simultaneously his hands found her breasts as hers found his cock. They both caressed the other. Everything now seemed to happen in slow motion, it was as if it was ordained and directed by a higher level being than mere man. Their mouths met and they kissed long and lovingly. They sucked on each other's lips and exchanged tongues. Their hands roamed adventurously around the other's body now with more familiarity and confidence. His hands and then mouth found her breasts and stirred her already prominent nipples into their full, excited splendour. Hers could hardly bear to leave where they were cradling his immensely hard and almost pulsating cock, but they were tempted away by her curiosity to feel and enjoy his bum. Firm, pert and fleshy, it was everything she hoped it would be and she gloried in the wonderment of having her nipples sucked and her clit rubbed while holding his luscious cock in one hand and caressing the cheeks of his arse with the other. She was tempted to go further with his that, but felt that might best be left until she knew him better. Instinctively, they both knew that this was not the time for oral, there would be plenty of time for that later. This was to be their first penetrative sex, their first time of making love, yes they were about to celebrate their first fuck. Slowly, but inexorably Charles moved his body onto hers. Gradually Monica manoeuvred him so that his erection was pressed in to her leg and stretched up into her groin. They kissed and caressed more, taking each other to that wonderful plateau of sensations that lies just beneath the peak that is the orgasm. They were both very aware that it would not be long before they would ascend to the peak and their minds and bodies would be engulfed with intense orgasmic sensations. He was now on top of her with her breasts squashed against his chest and his erection rearing up her stomach from her pubic mound to, nearly, her waist. He thrust himself a few times simulating the movements that he would soon be doing inside her. That thrusting sensitised her clit even more and he moved one step further towards the peak. All rational thought and reasoning had now gone from Charles' mind. His father and Camille ceased to exist, there was no future to consider other than what was going to happen over the next few minutes when he would make love to his step-mother. That thought and Monica's relationship to him never left his mind as they prepared to make love, but then it had hardly left his mind since they had started this adventure by dancing together at that wedding. At times that worried him. Did his obsession with thinking 'step-mother' mean that it was fucking the taboo that was more important to him than making love to the gorgeous Monica? Monica had no such thoughts, but then she was not the deep analytical thinker that was Charles and what had got him an honours degree from Cambridge. As he wriggled his body downwards a little so that bulbous end of his cock rested right on her clit, she shuddered with want and expectancy at the spectre of having the sexual vigour of Charles available to her all night. Her thinking went no further than that, it could not, for everything other than tonight was simply too complicated Grabbing his handsome face in her hands she kissed him hard and passionately with her tongue visiting every part of his mouth. Silently telling him with that gesture how much she wanted him she slowly opened her legs so that his body laid between them. Dancing Into Her Knickers Pt. 02 He got the signal and his heart pounded when he knew that the moment had arrived. He slid down a few inches, but then he remembered. "I'm not wearing anything Mons, is that ok?" It had not occurred to her to worry about protection, that was just not on her radar screen and at such a time she could not concern herself with it. "Yes of course it is my darling," she whispered stroking his long hair. "I want you so badly," she groaned. He moved a little further so that the naked head of his uncircumcised cock pressed right against the soaked lips of her cunt. "Oh Mons it can be nowhere near as badly as I need you and have since I was a kid." "Have you really Charles?" Monica asked feeling surprised. "Yes since I was at fucking boarding I have wanted you." "Well now, you can have me can't you." "It's a dream come true," he sighed into her ear. "Then Charles," she whispered gripping each of the cheeks of his bum and pulling. "Make the dream come true and fuck me." It was as good as the perfect fuck for both of them. Although Charles was hugely aroused and wanted desperately to crash himself in and out of Monica as hard and as fast as could, he was patient. He started slowly. Acutely aware from being told by other woman that his thickness was well above the average, he did not surge quickly up her. Instead, when her wonderfully erotic words 'and fuck me' rang in his ears he eased himself through her lips and slid slowly up her sensitive cavity. When in her as far as he could go he stopped and remained rigid still buried deep in Monica's pussy. Lying with Charles in her arms the head of his cock pressed against her lips, Monica had no vision of how she wanted him to make love to her. Her thinking did not extend beyond the words she had whispered to him. 'Make the dream come true and fuck me.' Being fucked by Charles had been on her mind for so long now and when she had recently masturbated about him, he had fucked her in pretty much all positions, so now it was happening it was the fuck that was important not the how and in what position. As it slid through her lips she had a moment of panic. Always when having sex, Monica felt her lips being stretched; her gynaecologist had told her that she was not very big down there. As Charles' beautiful monster stretched her, it felt as though her lips might not be able to expand to accommodate his serious girth and she felt a searing pain just like in childbirth or anal sex. She could not stop grunting and saying. "Ouch." "Does it hurt Monica, sorry," he whispered back staying still. He knew that in all probability once the bulbous head had passed through her lips things would be better for her and they were. "It's ok now," she replied as the head passed deep into her and the thickness of his shaft filled her to overflowing. Now that she had got over the initial shock of the pain the feelings were wonderful. As Charles slid deep into her and then held himself still she savoured the sensation of feeling filled to overflowing or, as she thought to herself. 'Being well and truly stuffed.' "Ok luv," he whispered running his hand down her back and finding one of her pert cheeks. "Oh yes Charles, it's wonderful." He then started to move, slowly and carefully. In and out and up and down with each movement sending violently erotic sensations through Monica. "Yes Charles, yes," she groaned as her climax built up. "Hurry, please hurry." "I won't last long," he replied surprising her as he had cum only thirty or forty minutes ago. He started to thrust himself up and down her faster and deeper. She found his rhythm and moved with him in perfect synchronisation as both of them moved from that plateau and roared towards the peak. Their orgasms burst at the same time. Her hands were gripping his back and his were holding the cheeks of her arse pulling that up from the bed and forcing her pussy more firmly against his cock. And then they were both cumming and Monica was moaning and sighing through as strong an orgasm as she could ever remember having. He stayed in her after he had cum, something Bruce did not do that. Always, he seemed to want to get away from her as soon as he could after sex and directly he had cum his tenderness towards her subsided even more quickly than his cock went soft. In bed, in Charles' arms, with his cock still buried deeply in her as it slowly deflated, it certainly was not like father like son other, that is in the proportions of their well-endowed dicks. Holding her tightly and caressing her back and arms he covered her face and neck in little kisses and licks as he told her how wonderful it had been. Monica felt as though she was in heaven. The feelings of guilt and remorse she imagined she might have in that often retrospective period immediately post sex, just were not there. She felt ecstatic, joyful and happy and full of affection for her step-son. She loved his tenderness and intimacy, the way he was still loving her and what he was saying about how marvellous it was that at last they had made love. "And Mons, it really was making love and not just fucking wasn't it?" "Yes Charles, yes it was she gushed kissing him on the lips. "It was much, much more." Dancing Into Her Knickers Pt. 03 The Affair How a step-mom drifts into sex with her step-son. Just as his wife and son were telling each other how much more than a fuck their making love was, Bruce was not making love to two young women, he was fucking both of them. He was not, of course, away purely on business, he rarely went anywhere for business without adding some form of sex onto it. Whether that be a massage parlour, a brothel, an escort to his hotel room or, occasionally dinner first or a string of 'girl-friends' he had round the country, did not matter to him. It was getting sex of some form or the other that was paramount to him. Whereas, Monica had not until with Charles, cheated on Bruce, the opposite was far from the truth. Bruce had continually cheated on her and every other woman he had been in any form of relationship with. He found it impossible to be faithful and had to exploit any opportunity to have sex that came his way. 'Always had and always will' he said to himself quite often. It was this 'network' of sexual opportunities that really stopped him from leaving Monica. Without them, his philosophy of the grass being greener on the other side and his need to savour that grass would have destroyed what was left of their marriage. He had called the escort agency a few days before leaving for Dublin. He often went to Dublin and used the agency there so the escort people knew him and what he wanted. And that was two girls no older that twenty-one, with one having big tits and the other small ones. He would have them for the entire night and although he would probably only cum twice, once before they went to sleep and again in the morning, they would be required to make love to each other almost continuously. It worked out perfectly for him and he felt that the two thousand Euro was money well spent. Like many men Bruce was fascinated by two women together. Many times he had asked Monica whether she had any feelings that way and she had told him quite clearly that women did nothing for her. That too, he felt was a pity, for if they had and he had been able to see her kissing and having sex with another woman then, by his convoluted logic that would have made their marriage stronger. * Charles and Monica made love twice more, once before sleeping in each other's arms, the other the next morning. After that first amazing bout of lovemaking they had lain together for ages, maybe even dozing off. She was surprised that when she looked at her watch that it was only nine o'clock. "I am starving," Charles announced. Getting out of the bed and standing by it. "Fancy something?" Smiling, Monica nodded at his dick and said as she raised her eyebrows. "To eat you mean?" "Mum you are insatiable," he replied leaning over kissing her on the head and cupping her breast. She reached up and ran her fingers over his balls. "And I hope you are as well young man." Getting up she went to take her dressing gown from the wardrobe. "Why bother Mons, as nice as that is you look much better like you are." "Ok," she giggled quite excited at the thought of them eating naked. They went downstairs hand in hand, but Charles let her go ahead of him as they walked across the hallway to the kitchen. The sight of her gorgeously wiggling arse and swaying hips was enough to begin the tingles in his balls that signifies the start of his recovery. They had some cold meat and salad and washed that down with a bottle Chablis. "You look absolutely fucking brilliant sitting there naked Mons," he said leaning across the table, picking up her hand and kissing it. "Mmmm nice thanks." "I've just had an idea, come on," he said getting up and grabbing her hand. "Where we going, what are you up to?" She asked as he almost dragged into the lounge. Leaving her standing in the middle he turned on the iPod and the music of a tango filled the room. "May I have the pleasure?" He asked holding out his hand. "Oh wow," Monica giggled as he took her in his arms. Her natural reactions took over and they were quickly dancing round the room naked. To both of them it was an amazing experience as they combined their love of dancing with sex. The tango is always erotic, but now with them naked it took on a whole new meaning. Her bare breasts were squashed against his hairy chest and as they glided round the room so her nipples brushed against him sending wonderful sensations through both of them. Their tummies were pressed together and, of course their pubic mounds became almost as one. It was too soon after his last ejaculation for Charles to get completely hard, but by the time they finished the dance his cock was certainly at least at half-mast. "Jesus that was amazing," Monica gushed as they finished the tango and fell into each other's arms laughing. "I bet we would win the competition if we dressed like this for it," Charles said cupping Monica's breasts as they kissed. "All the ladies would vote for this," she replied holding his semi-hard dick. "And all the men would without doubt vote for what I thought had got me into trouble earlier." Monica did not follow his though patterns. "What do you mean?" Reaching round her he grabbed the cheeks of her bum just as he had when they kissed earlier. The difference this time was that they were not covered with the blue cotton, but were gloriously bare. "These," he grunted as they once more kissed tenderly and lovingly. Breaking the kiss, Charles said. "Mons, do you want the good news or the bad?" It was as if her heart came into her mouth. She panicked and her heart started to pound. 'What's gone wrong?' She asked herself. Seeing the worried look come onto her face, Charles nearly laughed, but kept a straight face as he said in a very serious tone. "I'm afraid Monica that it is quite bad news." "What is it?" She asked perplexed as they stood in the middle of the lounge naked with the iPod still blaring out the Latin music. "I have to get up at five-thirty tomorrow and will need to go to bed soon," he giggled loving the look of relief on her face. "You bastard," she said laughing and playfully slapping his chest. "So what's the good news?" "That by the time I get you into bed I will be ready again, so come on." He was true to his word and they both went to bed at midnight and he made wonderful love to her. Monica was delighted to be woken up the next morning at just after five o'clock by what felt suspiciously like an erect cock pressing in the crease of her bottom, something that had not happened to her for years. She turned, kissed Charles and whispered. "Good morning," as she reached down and grasped his lovely cock. "Morning mum," Charles grinned back cupping Monica's breast and kissing her on the end of her ski slope nose. She giggled. Rubbing his full hard on, she replied. "Now this is what I call a wonderful wake up call." Bending he kissed her breasts and nipples and slid his hand down her body to cup her pussy. That felt lovely and she knew that her juices would be leaking onto his hand. "So what would madam like for breakfast?" Lifting the duvet and slipping under it she slid her head down Charles' body until it was at his stomach. Pulling his cock away from his body she kissed the end of it, licked its length and just before wrapping her lips round it muttered. "This would make a good starter." "Oh Jesus Christ Mons," he groaned reaching down, pushing the duvet off them, running his hands through her thick, long hair and gripping Monica's head. "That's fucking fantastic." Sucking and licking him as she cupped and stroked his balls she ran her fingers up and down the insides of his thighs and between them right onto that little 'sweet spot' between his scrotum and the crease of his bum. Monica really got into the blow job and would, quite willingly have gone all the way and let him cum in her mouth if he wanted. The sensations were fantastic for Charles and it was not long before his body as well, as his mind reacted to her marvellous mouth and hands and he started to match the rhythm of her head with the thrusting of his hips. He was wondering just how far she would let him go as with Camille he was quite used to being stopped at about this point. But Monica did not stop him and if anything once he started to fuck her face her efforts were more energetic. Whilst Charles would have loved to cum in her mouth and see whether she would swallow it, he was loath to do that as this could be their last time together. "Stop Mons, please," he groaned pulling out. "What's up, don't like it?" "I like it probably too much Mons, but I don't want that now." "What do you want then." "I want you, I want to fuck you. I want you to have as much pleasure as me, I want us to share this. After all, Mons, it might be our last time together." Monica was pleased with his thoughtfulness, but saddened at what he had said, although she got what he meant. In the cold light of day when she was with Bruce and he was Camille, things might change, but she said nothing about that. Instead she murmured. "How do you want to do it?" After Charles left for work at just before six, Monica felt nervous and worried. She was nervous about facing Bruce after spending the night in bed with his son and worried about what she and Charles would do now. She spent most of the morning removing any possible signs of what had gone on between them. As Charles spent most of the week at his father's house and the weekends with Camille, there was no need to wipe out any signs of him being there. Just in case, though, she changed and then washed the linen on her and Bruce's bed, where she and her step son had made love and searched the settee where they had undressed each other very carefully. Remembering that she had masturbated him as he finger fucked her and that he had shot large spurts of cum all over her tummy and onto her tits, she checked to make sure that none was on the settee. Fortunately, there was not any. Charles felt elated as he travelled to Liverpool Street on the Central Line. He was thinking of last night and how fantastic it was that Monica felt the same about him as he did about her. He was in a near daze and was completely unaware of the women on the tube train in their tight trousers and short skirts who normally he would have ogled. He got so involved with thinking of how they had made love, how great Monica was in bed and what a fantastic time they had that by Stratford he had a raging hard on and was relieved that he was sitting down. Bruce arrived home from his supposed business trip around five. As Monica saw him getting out of the cab that had brought him from Stansted airport, she was a bag of nerves. As it happened, though, once they were together she felt better. There was nowhere near the guilt or remorse that she had imagined there would be and strangely after they had a glass of wine, she relaxed and felt fine. They had agreed that Charles would spend that night at Camille's. As he had been with several other women since taking up with her a year or so ago and had no doubt whatsoever that she had been with probably more men, he had no qualms about facing her. What he did have qualms about though was fucking her. He knew full well that unless she was off her head with the coke she snorted that she would probably want sex almost immediately he got home. He was correct. It was just after six when he got to her Knightsbridge flat, just behind Harrods. Immediately he entered the apartment he knew that was would be wasted. In the hallway there was a pile of clothes, her coat was laying on the stairs where it looked as though it had been thrown and there was half-full glass with what was almost certainly vodka. Charles walked into the lounge and saw Camille lying on the sofa watching television. She was smoking and had a glass in her hand. She was wearing a dressing gown, which probably meant that she had only recently got out of bed. 'At least' Charles thought that meant she slept here, but he did wonder whether she might have brought someone home?" "Hello darling," she said far more brightly than she looked. "Hi, how are you?" "A bit fucked up actually." "Really, why's that?" "Well last night went on a bit." "Don't most of your nights with that bunch do that?" "True, but this was exceptional, I didn't get home until seven." "Alone, I assume?" "Of course, you know me, one man woman and all that," she said smiling at him. "Come here and give me a kiss." As he was walking across the room to where she was laying on the sofa, Camille pulled her dressing gown open. She was naked under it. "On second thoughts Charley boy come here and give me a good fucking instead." * On the phone the next day, Charles and Monica had agreed not to meet or discuss that night for a few days. "Let's get used to what we have done before, deciding anything," she had wisely suggested. "But Mons I want you so much, I need you." Laughing she replied. "I am sure you can last a few days, it will be worth it, I promise." They agreed that he would stay at Monica's until Friday when they would talk on the phone. They were going salsa dancing that evening. Almost the first thing Charles said on the phone on Friday was. "So do you want to carry on Monica?" Charles almost innocently asked the question, but he was desperate for the answer. Since the sex with her, he had thought of hardly anything else than being with her again. And that was not just sexually for he wanted to be with her, hear her voice, smell her, touch her and be close to her. Monica felt pretty much the same way. She was besotted by Charles and she wanted him badly. She wanted him to hold her, caress her, undress her and make love to her in the staggeringly awesome way he had that night. But she was scared by her feelings and the intensity of them. Surely she could not be falling in love with her step son, she continually asked herself? Monica had known almost for certain from the moment they had kissed that she would want to carry on. That had been reinforced when they undressed each other, made more likely when they masturbated and became for certain when he fucked her. Monica was a determined woman. Once her mind was made up, she had few doubts and there was little anyone could do to change her mind. She had asked for the cooling off period to see whether being with the family, feeling the guilt and remorse and worrying about committing adultery might change her mind. They had not so in answer to Charles' question she simply said. "Yes." So pleased that they both wanted to carry on with their affair, they danced better than they ever had that evening. Their tango really was sex on legs as their bodies was as tightly connected as if he we was buried in her. "We can't Charles." Monica said when after the dancing he said that he wanted to make love to her and suggested a hotel "Bruce is at home and he'll be waiting." That became a feature of their affair. They had the opportunities, but rarely the location. His Porsche was useless and they could not think of an excuse to tell Bruce as to why they would go in her car. "He'll be at Arsenal tomorrow," Monica said as they drove home. "I can't wait until then," Charles said turning into a small trading estate in Woodford. "And in any case I have to go to a fucking wedding with Camille," he told her bringing home another feature of an affair, the disappointment. He found a dark car park behind a warehouse. They kissed and it was every bit as wonderful as they had hoped it would be. Monica was wearing her yellow salsa dress. It was short, some eight inches above knee, loose so that when she twirled she would flash her panties and it had tassles that moved as she did. It had thin, spaghetti shoulder straps and was fairly low cut. It took Charles only a few minutes before the shoulder straps were rolled down and Monica's breasts were bare. Joyously he stroked and caressed them before kissing and sucking her bulging nipples. Kissing continuously they lost themselves in the passion of being together again. Her hands found his wonderful bulge and could not resist unzipping him. His slid up her legs to cup her pussy through the soaked gusset of her full, dancing panties. He pushed the gusset aside and ran his fingers along her lips and slightly inside her as she started to pump his cock. "Let me come over there," Charles groaned. "No we can't. It's too crowded and we would be done for if anyone comes along. Remember we are on a trading estate and they do have security." "You are so fucking logical sometimes Mons," he smiled. "You talking to me or what you are holding?" She asked, fiddling her hand further into his trousers and cupping his balls. "Mmmm these feel nice," she murmured rolling them in her hand. "Yes and that feels nice too," he whispered nibbling her nipples and pushing his fingers inside her. Monica opened her legs wider and slid down further on the seat to allow him easier access into her pussy. He pushed his fingers deeper into her? "Is that good Mons." "Oh yes," she groaned. She had not had sex since that night with Charles and all the thinking had frustrated her so quite quickly she started to cum. "Oh my God Charles," she moaned, gripping his wrist and altering the angle just a little. "Oh my god," she went on as her orgasm roared through her body. He held her as she came down slowly from the peak of her climax. "Oh my darling," she sighed. "That was so wonderful." She kissed him and added, "But then so are you," as she plastered little kisses of love all over his handsome face. They kissed deeply and her hand found his erection again. It felt lovely. She stroked it and pumped it a few times. Looking up and despite the dimness gazing right into his eyes she murmured. "Do you want me to Charles?" "Yes Mons, yes please I do." Ever practical, she asked. "Got any tissues around?" "There's a box behind my seat." Finding the box she spread a few around saying. "Can't have you going home to your dad with that stuff on your trousers can we?" "Frankly mum, with you doing this to me I could not give a flying fuck. Oooo that's fantastic." Kissing him on the lips, she slowly pumped his, thick and gloriously hard cock. "Is that good Charley?" "Oh yes," he groaned squeezing her tits perhaps a little too hard. "Does mum do it well?" "She does it marvellously," he replied feeling his balls tighten. "So good Mons, I am cumming." "Yes cum for me, cum for Mons, cum for mummy." The tissues came in very useful gathering the massive gushes of cum that poured from Charles' cock. * Despite how awkward it was arranging meetings, the affair continued and blossomed. They had recently expressed their love for each other and neither had any doubt about that. Occasionally they could get together for a drink after Charles finished work and now and then for a few hours in a hotel room. Their favourite times were the evenings when they were due to go dancing, but when they did not and instead took a room at the Marriott at Waltham Abbey. It was, though, they both knew all too rushed. Their respective private lives did not allow them the time to conduct the affair as they would like to. Several times when they got up from bed when they were supposed to be dancing, Monica found herself crying. "Oh Charley is it worth it?" She asked as he cuddled and comforted her. "Yes my darling yes it is and it will get better." "How, if you are going to marry Camille?" "We'll find a way." Now and then in those tranquil moments as they lay in each other's arms after sex, they would talk of the future and the conversation would stray onto the near taboo subject of them 'running away.' They agreed that they had the money, that they would love to be with each other all the time and that they did not care what their friends would say. It was her daughter that was the main issue and Monica had no idea how she could handle that. Dancing Into Her Knickers Pt. 03 "Maybe in a couple of years," she lamely finished such discussions. Although Charles continued splitting his time between Camille's flat and Bruce's house, they had few opportunities there. It always seemed that when Bruce was out or away, Charles was working or had a date with Camille that Monica was finding more and more frustrating. A few weeks later they did have a night together. They had told him that they were in a competition and Bruce had said he would be staying in Manchester overnight. "So you are staying the night with her are you?" Camille slurred when he told her. "Yes and why not?" "Because you'll be in the fucking house alone with her." "How do you know?" "You told me that Bruce will be away." "Did I? I don't remember, but so what, I have been before, Bruce is often out?" "Yeah and I bet I know what goes on." "Nothing goes on," Charles replied turning away so she would not see his face. "I bet you're fucking her," she said lighting a Marlboro red. "Why do say that?" "I just feel it," she said taking a deep drag on the strong smelling cigarette. Charles ignored her and they hardly spoke again that evening as Camille drank herself almost senseless. He left early for work the next morning without even talking to Camille who rarely got up before ten or so. It was not just the row of the previous evening that made him pleased that they did not talk it was also the anticipation of a the night that lay ahead with Monica It turned out to be a really idyllic evening and night for them. He came home from work early and let himself into the house. It was very quiet and but for her car being in the drive and the fact that he had called her from the station as he got into a cab, he would have thought that Monica was out. She was nowhere to be seen downstairs so he walked up the stairs towards his room. "Monica, are you up here?" he called out feeling slightly alarmed. Then he saw that his bedroom door was slightly ajar, which was unusual for due to Bruce's near paranoia about security all doors were always kept closed in case of a fire. He walked to it, pushed it open and went in. The thick curtains were drawn and the room was lit by just one candle flickering on the dressing table. Monica was in his bed her grey, blonde hair tumbling all over the pillow. Smiling at Charles she said. "I couldn't wait so I started without you." "What a fantastic idea," he replied going to lay on the bed. "No get undressed first I want to see you." Almost ripping his clothes off, Charles was soon naked. His cock was hardening as he removed his boxers. "Mmmmm that looks wonderful," Monica sighed. "Can I get in now?" "Of course. I want to feel you," she replied as he lifted up the duvet. "Oh my fucking lord, he groaned when he saw that she was wearing a black bra. Pulling the duvet further away from her he went on. "Jesus fucking wept Mons what are you trying to do to me?" Running his eyes up and down her, he took in the complete all black, vamp's tunic; bra, suspender belt, panties and stockings. "I just thought that after a hard day at the bank you might need a little help," Monica said reaching across and grasping his erection as he got in the bed. "But I can see that I was wrong." "You are all the help I need, I have been hard nearly all day thinking about you," he said throwing the duvet off Monica's body. "You look fucking awesome," he went on burying his face in her cleavage that was made deeper by the push up bra. As she stroked and rubbed his raging erection, Charles' hands were everywhere. Like most men he was a sucker for sexy underwear and in his opinion it does not come much sexier than what Monica was wearing for him. "Take your time Mons, or you'll make me cum." "Not on my brand new underwear you won't she giggled." "I might," he growled easing each of her tits out of the restricting cups so that he could get his mouth to her waiting and already erect nipples. She stopped rubbing him as she did not want an accident and even more so did not want him to 'waste' a climax. She wanted him to use that on her and in her. Charles got his hand inside her panties and started to finger her clit and run his fingers along her slit. It was wonderfully wet and hot. "Let's get these fucking things off," he groaned. "Fucking things, just now they were fucking awesome," she giggled back. Between them they slid the panties down her legs and off and Monica held them in her hand as Charles licked her pussy. "Not too much," she cautioned not wanting to cum too soon although she knew that she would have numerous orgasms before the night was out. She pushed him onto his back, leaned over him and ran her mouth up the length of his cock smothering it in little kisses. Lifting her face up, she kissed him on the mouth and put her hand holding her panties on his erection. She rubbed the silky material all over his cock, balls, thighs and stomach. "Nice Charley?" "Oh fuck me yes." "You like Mons' panties do you?" she asked putting her stocking covered leg on top of his and rubbing it with the nylon. "Yes Mons, yes I do," he gasped loving the sensation of the panties and the stockings caressing him. Monica had done this a couple of times to Bruce, but Charles had not any experience like this and he loved it. Wrapping the silk round his shaft she started to masturbate him with her panties. He was near but was determined to hold out as he knew that Monica preferred to be fucked to her first orgasm and not fingered or licked. Charles was now lying on his back and Monica was next to him on her side lightly rubbing him through the material. His eyes were closed as he let the fantastic sensation run all over his body. Her mouth was right next to his ear and she spoke in a whisper so Charles was not at first what she said. "Pardon Mons?" Speaking slightly louder, but still in a whisper she said. "Would you like me to put them on you Charles?" * Bruce had not gone to Manchester, but had stayed in London. He was just about to get on the train at Euston when he got a text from one of his bits on the side, a particularly exciting and sexually adventurous one at that. She said that she was free that evening and night if he would like to meet up. He text straight back saying that he would and he would be back in touch in a few minutes. He called the Lanesborough Hotel, his favourite in London and booked a suite. Getting into a cab to go there he text his cancellations in Manchester including the two eighteen year old escorts he had lined up and text his dat for tonight and told her that he would be at the Lanesborough at Hyde Park Corner in, at the longest, half an hour. She text back saying why not come to her flat? Bruce hated staying in other peoples' homes at the best of times and even avoided them on holidays. He particularly disliked staying at a woman's place overnight and did not really even like sleeping with them. Having a suite in a hotel gave him options. He text back and told her that it was booked and that they could have dinner in the suite or go out to a Mayfair restaurant. She agreed and turned up at the suite an hour or so later at around seven. "Do you want to eat here or go out?" He asked after they had embraced and kissed. "Let's stay here shall we?" she replied. They had a fairly early dinner and before eight in the evening Bruce was enjoying a splendid prostate massage as he lay on his side, with his legs bent at the knees on the floor of the suite. * Their affair became more intense and had reached the point where Charles was imploring Monica to 'come out' and to leave Bruce and live with him. She was so torn and desperately wanted to take their relationship further, but was concerned about Emily, her daughter and how that would affect their relationship. She was also very concerned about their age difference. Twenty-six and forty-two was just about manageable. Charles looked older than his years and she was blessed with a youthful complexion and outlook on life so they got away with it although on the odd date when they went for a meal or drink or, on the rare occasion now that they salsa danced, she was aware of the stares of the woman and imagined them thinking 'toyboy' about Charles. What she could not countenance was the idea that when Charles was in his early and mid-forties, which many think is the prime of a man's life, she would become a senior citizen by having her sixtieth birthday. So although she knew that she loved him, wanted to be with him all the time and spend the rest of her life with him, she resisted taking the big step that Charles had no doubts whatsoever about. Charles stayed at Bruce and Monica's on average two nights a week. If they were lucky Bruce would go out and they could make love in Charles' bed. That was particularly lovely, but not always possible. When the three of them were there perhaps watching TV or surfing on their tablets, the atmosphere was very tense. To be so close to each other in the same room and not be able to touch or kiss was agony for both of them. One evening Monica and Charles were both on their iPads when she got an email. She almost burst out laughing when she read. 'I so want to fuck you that I am sitting here with a bloody great hard on.' "Mmmm that would be lovely, I would like that right now," she sent back. "Wait for me to say that I am going upstairs then ask if anyone wants a cup of tea or a drink then go to the kitchen." Both Charles and Bruce said they would have tea and Charles announced that he had to get something from his room She went into the kitchen and was surprised to see Charles there. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "Mons I can't fuck you, but I can at least kiss you, can't I?" "What if Bruce comes out." "We'll hear him open the lounge door, the sound of the TV will increase," Charles said covering her lips with his as his hand immediately went to her breasts. They could not go much further, but over the next month or so, which was the last month before Charles' one point five million pounds apartment was ready they did. Even later that evening when Bruce said that he had to make a long phone call to California and went to his study, but left the door open so they could hear him, they did. Directly they heard him talking on the phone in his loud, booming telephone voice, they were in each other's arms and Charles hand slid up Monica's sweater and onto her breast. Kissing deeply, but with their ears on Bruce's voice, he caressed her breasts and pinched he nipples. "I want to make you cum," he whispered into her ear. "No, there's not time." "But you wouldn't mind me doing it here." "No, I want you to do it." "Fuck he's put the phone down," Charles said. "You were dead right," he went on returning to his seat across the room from Monica. "I am going to have to go back on the phone in a couple of minutes and it will probably be for half hour at least, we have to go through some points on a long, boring contract. So Monica don't wait up for me, go up to bed if you want to." "I'll see, I am watching Newsnight at the moment." "Well up to you, good night Charley." "Night dad." As soon as he was ensconced in his study on the phone with the door shut, although they could still hear his loud voice they were again in each other's arm kissing. Charles pushed her back into the corner of the sofa and slid her sweater up. He scooped her boobs out of her bra and chewed and sucked her nipples. "I've got the time now mum." "What?" "To make you cum," he told her his hand sliding up her leg right onto her pussy. "No Charles we can't, what if he finishes early?" "We'll hear him saying good bye," Charles replied pressing right on her clit through the thin cotton trousers. "Oh yes," she groaned kissing him hard. And like that with neither of them undressing he made her cum. They had moments like that each time Charles stayed at the house. Sometime brief, no more than a hug and a kiss, sometimes a little longer when he might lick her breasts or rub her pussy. Once or twice they were able to find the time and opportunity where Monica could jerk him off as he fingered her. At times it was risky times, but it was worth the risk to both of them. However, the chance to actually have full sex when Bruce was around had not arisen until one Sunday. Charles had moved into the apartment, but was back at the house to play golf with Bruce and for a late Sunday lunch. Camille, as usual, could not bear the idea of leaving central London for the suburbs, particularly those grotty ones in Essex. "Look we can hear the fucking sit on grass cutter and if we stand by the window we can see him too." "But Charley this is insane." "What making love to me is insane?" "No standing up and having it as Bruce cuts the grass." "Why is it insane? It makes perfect sense to me. Come on Mons, go for it. You don't have much to take off," he said nodding at the yellow bikini with the strapless bra tied at the back. "Actually you have given me a hard on several times just looking at you." "What if he drives up to the house?" "We are in the kitchen getting a drink and we will hear and see him. Come on." Monica's heart was pounding. The sheer idea of having full sex whilst her husband was around excited her, but also slightly scared her as was to be expected. She and Charles had not seen each other for over a week and had not had sex for almost two, the longest they had gone since they started. She and Bruce rarely did anything now and she was beginning to wonder whether he was getting it elsewhere? So not only was Monica sexually frustrated, but she was also missing Charles, both emotionally and physically. Sunbathing with him wearing just shorts and her a bikini had been wonderful, but also had felt like hell. To be so near to her half naked lover yet be unable to touch, hold or kiss him was awful so his suggestion that they go in the kitchen and have sex had tremendous appeal to her. "I've got an idea," Monica said picking up her phone. "Just going to make a drink Bruce, do you want anything?" "No, I'll press on with this," he replied waving to them. A few minutes later she got up and looking to where her husband on the tractor was going away from them she looked down at Charles. She could see that he was erect. Holding his gaze she raised her hands and slowly pulled the cups of her bra down and off her breasts. "Come on then or are you all talk," she said very seriously. They went into the kitchen and kissed long and deep. Although she had felt the sensation many times her nipples against his slightly hairy chest felt even more fantastic than usual. She knew that she would take little time readying herself to be fucked and probably she would cum just as quickly. Reaching down she held his cock through his shorts. "My, my, you are ready aren't you?" "You know that I am always fucking ready when I am around you Mons, 'cos you are such a horny bitch." Although the bulk of both of their concentrations was on the other, they were still aware of the sound of the tractor cutting the nearly one acre of grass and one or the other would continually glance out of the window just to make sure. They need not have worried for Bruce was miles away thinking of his latest 'bit on the side' who did some of the rudest things he had experienced including the prostate massage, the use of the slim anal dildo on him and the suggestion that one day soon she might fuck him with a strapon. He was actually cutting the lawn with a raging hard on and was thinking where he could go to relieve himself. "Well we had better get on with it hadn't we, he might notice if we are away from the patio for too long," Monica said sliding her hand inside Charles' shorts and right onto his rampantly hard cock. "Mmmm, that feels lovely." "And so do these," Charles retorted cupping her breast with one hand and slipping the other between her legs. "God this is so deliciously rude isn't?" Monica said putting both hands inside Charles shorts and pushing them down. "And so is this," she smiled as his bloated, thick, long cock seemed to leap out at her. Charles slid the panties of his step-mother's bikini down to her mid-thigh and sounded a little disappointed when he said. "You haven't shaved yet," as he ran his fingers through the landing strip of light brown pubic hair. "No I can't think what to say to Bruce about it," she said putting her arms round her lover's neck and squashing her tummy against his erection. "Mmmmm that feels so lovely. Have I told what a great cock you have got Charles." "Yes you may have mentioned it once or twice." "You are keeping your eyes on Bruce aren't you?" "Yes and he seems to be working the bottom of the garden and the paddock so is not coming this way at all." "Good, give us longer." "But just in case Mons let's both watch out for him, so turn round, lean against the work surface and look out of the window as I fuck you from behind." It was an odd situation for both of them when just twenty minutes or so after Charles had taken Monica from behind, they were sitting in the kitchen with Bruce having a glass of wine and talking as if nothing had happened. Since that evening when ostensibly he had come to the house for them to practice for the dance competition and they had made love, it had not been easy finding the opportunities to see each other. That was made even more difficult when Charles' apartment in Docklands was finished and he moved in. It was more difficult for Monica for two reasons. Firstly she could not see him as much and secondly Camille could. She had never known jealousy like that she felt about Camille especially when she thought of her in the bed that she and Charles managed to use now and then when he could get away from work early or could take a long lunch break. The way that circumstances forced them to conduct their lovemaking also depressed Monica. Charles had changed his car for a Rangerover, so they now had a vehicle where sex was possible unlike in a Porsche, although she found it to be rather sordid. Exciting certainly and with the added element of the potential of being caught, she took what she could get and probably every two or three weeks when they were 'salsa dancing' Monica was on her back on the back seat of the Rangerover with Charles buried between her legs that were open and wrapped round his waist as he fucked her. Monica believed that sex in a car was fucking and not making love. Fortunately Bruce was away slightly more often and when that coincided with a dance night they were able to sleep together and really make love. They were also able to grab quickies at his apartment, which were ok, but somewhat unsatisfying. Charles would call or text her roughly once a week and say that he could get off early or take a longer lunch and knew exactly where Camille was. To Monica's frustration Camille as well as she had a key to the apartment and often, she wondered what Harry the concierge thought of Charles' step mother visiting so frequently. Fortunately Charles bought his silence with a fifty pounds monthly tip. Being the heavy drinking, coke and pills taker that she was, Camille was unpredictable. She ran with a fast crowd often being out until four or five during the week and would sometimes crash into Charles flat just as he was about to leave for work. Hence, Monica's opportunities to stay overnight were very limited and could only happen if Camille was away skiing or on holiday. Really having a non-job in PR that she got far more because of her social contacts than her knowledge, her timing was also unpredictable and she was just as likely to turn up at Charles' flat for a fuck in the middle of the afternoon as she was in the middle of the night. Dancing Into Her Knickers Pt. 03 Hence, when Charles could get away from work and invite Monica to his place he had to know where Camille was. Although for Monica her visits to Charles home were tainted by knowing that he had sex with Camille there and, in fact there were loads of her clothes there, overall they were some of their best times. She might get a text around ten saying that he could be at the apartment by one or perhaps four and that he would have around three hours. If Bruce was in, which he generally was not for he played golf or snooker and had business meetings most days, he would tell him she was going shopping. The drive from Loughton to Docklands was only twelve or so miles down the A406 or A 12, so Monica would usually be in the apartment within half hour or so. Sometimes she would undress and be in bed waiting for Charles and other times she would open the door naked when the video alarm announced that someone was approaching. Other times she would remain clothed and they would undress each other. At times, though they ended up making love on the huge sofa in the lounge overlooking the Thames and across that the O2 Arena. When Camille's movements could not be guaranteed and Bruce was at home they would go to hotels, sometimes in the afternoons, but mostly early evening. Whilst sex in hotels is usually exciting the glitz wore off quite quickly and the getting up and going home just when it would have been so nice to have fallen asleep in each other's arms rather took the shine off it. But they both thought, 'beggars cannot be choosers,' and in this situation they were very much the beggars. They argued occasionally. Generally that was about one of two topics; Monica's refusal to 'come out' and Charles refusal to end it with Camille. "She's a fucking no good coke head," Monica yelled at him one afternoon at the apartment. "Why don't you dump her?" "I can't, it's not that easy." "It is just tell her." "I have before and she threatened to kill herself." "Oh dear." "And in any case, if you won't leave Bruce I will need her." "Do you love her?" "In a way yes." "But she's fucking nuts and she hates me." "Well I don't blame her hating you for the reason she does." "What?" Monica said startled. "She has thought for ages that we have been having an affair." "Bollocks, I didn't know." "I didn't want to tell you." "Reckon she has told Bruce." "I doubt it she does not see him hardly at all does she?" "No I guess not." * Bruce had once tried counting the number of women he had fucked. He could recall the names or looks of about a hundred, but knew that was well short of the real total. To get to that he would have to factor in going to a massage parlour on average three times every couple of months for a at least ten years, which meant at least another couple of hundred, plus the period when he used a high class brothel almost weekly for a few years before it was closed down. Trying to take all sources into consideration he put the number at around four hundred. He had no idea what made him so greedy and unfaithful, but was just driven to try continually to see if the grass was greener on the other side. Sometimes it was, but often it wasn't. With both his first wife and Monica he knew that had women who were good in bed. Each of them was adventurous and creative and indulged his whims of anal intercourse and swallowing his cum. He had tied both of them up and had them do that to him, but both had refused to go with another woman with him watching. That said, he rarely found any other women who were better in bed overall than his two wives, but what he sought was something different and that's what his endless stream of pick-ups, old flames, hookers, escorts and masseuses provided. As he aged, he also changed. A straightforward fuck was no longer the turn on it used to be. Alright occasionally he might find a nineteen year old that amazed him or someone might be absolutely sensational, but generally speaking he now needed more than a fuck. He had experimented with S and M and BDSM, going to clubs and dungeons, but it was a little too contrived. He had tried spanking and although he did get a slight kick from seeing a woman's bum cheeks go brilliantly pink, it was not that big a deal and he soon got bored. Recently, he was finding anal sex in its various forms to be most stimulating. He adored rimming a woman and fingering her arse. He loved getting his tongue up there and, of course he enjoyed fucking those tight passages. More and more, though, over the past year or so it was the reverse that he found most exciting. He had found a woman after his own heart. On their first time together he had pressed his finger right against her anus, going in just a little way, but she had stopped. "Hey, not too far too soon," she had admonished stopping him. That was not the case the second time when he slid his index finger up her to past his second knuckle and made her cum from a finger fuck up her arse. The natural extension of this was mutual oral anal, full penetration of her with his cock and her giving him prostate massages. They both knew that they were heading inexorably for the ultimate anal sexual pleasure; her wearing a strapon and fucking him. * The party was at a banking friend of Charles house who was very rich. He lived near Fairfield in rural Essex in a massive ten or so bedroom mansion with extensive grounds. There were three marquees hosting the party, one for the meal and sitting around talking, another for a disco and a third for more sedate dancing. After dinner, Monica and Charles danced a few times and agreed that they wanted to carry on. Camille was stoned and probably drunk as well and Charles persuaded his friend to let her sleep it off ikn one of the guest bedrooms. Bruce was talking to some business associates and golfing cronies so they were able to be alone. "Let's walk," Charles said eager to get Monica somewhere he could kiss her. The dancing, although wonderful because their bodies were pressed together was also agony as they were 'so near yet so far!' It was dusk when with wine glasses in their hands they wandered as innocently as possible away from the marquees. They strolled round the corner of the pool changing room, out of sight of the party. He pushed her back against the wall and they kissed longer and deeper. "God I so want you?" Charles muttered pressing his erection firmly against her tummy. Monica felt the same; she could not remember ever wanting anyone as much as she did Charles right now. "It's impossible Charles." "No it's not, there's a back door into the pool and we can go in the changing rooms. Come on," he said roughly almost pulling her down a pea shingle path "Fuck they've locked it," he said rattling the door. "We'll have to go alfresco?" "We can't Charles," Monica groaned feeling as equally disappointed as she did aroused "We can no one will come down here and we would hear them on the pea shingle," he replied, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth. As he crushed her breasts against his chest, gripped both cheeks of her bum and thrust his erection into her tummy, Monica felt her resistance fading. "Oh Charles this is crazy, it's madness, but so marvellous," she sighed grabbing his erection through his thin linen trousers. He pulled one of the straps of the ankle-length dress down her arm and pushed and stroked, squeezed and pinched her tits, she was not wearing a bra, before leaning forward and sucking one of her prominent nipples into his mouth. She undid his shirt then his zip. She bit his nipple, quite hard. "Hey steady, that hurt," Charles groaned making Monica laugh. "Just be careful I don't leave scratch marks right down your back, you bastard, cheating on your father." They both laughed. He pulled her long skirt up; she wasn't wearing tights, just panties. He slid his hand between her thighs and lifted his thumb so that it pressed right into the gusset covering her pussy lips. "You dirty bitch, you're soaked." "Mmmm, I am and you are so fucking hard," she murmured. Charles wasn't sure whether that was due to what he was doing or, because she had taken hold of his bare, hard cock. Maybe a bit of both he thought. He pressed his erection against her and wiggled his hand into the elastic of the waistband of her panties. He started to pull them down. As her pubes and pussy were exposed to the air, Monica felt an even more urgent surge of arousal than what she was getting from holding his throbbing cock. She grabbed his hand when her knickers were half-way down her thighs. "That's far enough," she said sharply. "What don't like the open air?" He replied pushing her knickers down past her knees. "Just shut up and fuck me smartarse," Monica said helping Charles push his trousers and pants down a little. Charles smiled, but did nothing further other than push his finger right against her clit, then ease two up inside her. "Nice?" He asked hearing her grunt and feeling her body jerk. "Yes," she grunted, grabbing his cock again. She guided it towards her eager pussy. They kissed as it brushed against her lips and then she grunted and he groaned as he thrust his hips forward surging his cock deep inside her. Monica lifted one leg up and wrapped the calf and ankle round the back of Charles's legs. They were now kissing furiously as their arousal and passion grew. He was pounding into her, she was squirming herself back against him. His hands were all over her breasts, the top of her dress was now pulled down and was bunched round her waist: hers were running up and down his back, slightly scratching it, worrying Charles that she might carry out her earlier threat. "Oh fuck yes," she grunted. "Harder, fuck me harder," she moaned grabbing his arse and digging her fingernails into the pliant flesh. "You horny cow," he replied, surging himself as far into her as he could go and then holding himself rigid in there as she writhed against his hardness, in effect fucking herself. "I'm near," he grunted. "Good," she responded. "Ready?" "Yes." Several more deep, slow thrusts from him, a few more writhing, squirming movements from Monica, and they were both cumming. Each holding onto the cheeks of the other's bum and squeezing those delicious mounds they relished in their mutual climax. "Phew," Monica muttered falling against Charles. "Nice?" He asked. "Mmm, bloody lovely." "Come on we had better get back." "Oh fuck look at my panties?" Monica said. They both looked down and saw that they had slipped off from her foot and she or he had trod on them, they were covered in dirt. "Easy," Charles said, picking them up and shoving them in his pocket. * "Look it's Bruce's birthday, why not come with me and we can all go to dinner after the dance," Charles asked Camille a couple of weeks later. "You want me to come to fucking Essex?" "Yes, why not?" "I get the shakes when I leave town," she smiled lighting a Marlboro." "It won't be that bad, I promise," Charles said leaning across the bed and kissing her. "Why do you and your step-whore have to go to the fucking dance?" "She's not a whore and certainly not mine," Charles retorted a little too sharply. "Methinks you protest too much," Camille replied sliding her hand down the bed and grabbing his cock. "I bet you have fucked her." "Don't be daft Cam." "Or at least would like to." "Why do you think I would want to fuck my step mother?" "Because my darling," she went on cupping his balls and scratching gently on his perineum. "You are up for fucking anything that's attractive and sexy." "Just leave it Cam or I might start asking you some awkward questions. Anyway are you going to come?" "Let me play with this a bit more and there will be no stopping me," she giggled. "I meant to the house," Charles replied as he felt his balls start tingling. That sensation, he realised, was coming more though from thinking about Monica than what his fiancée was doing to him, nice as that was. "I know you meant that, but I also meant this," Camille said rubbing his rapidly hardening cock. "You really are a randy bugger aren't you?" "When a guy gets his dick rubbed by a bird his does tend to get hard you know." "But you only need me to look at yours and it starts to grow." "So will you come?" "Fuck me now and I will come both ways." Charles could not stop himself from smiling at Camille's phrasing. "So what time on Saturday?" "It's a tea dance." "What the fuck's that?" "A dance at teatime so that people can go on somewhere after it. We'll be finished by eight or so," he said lying by an hour to give him and Monica some time alone." "Jesus Christ what a bore, but ok, just to please the old fart." "He may be many things Cam, but my dad is not an old fart." "No that's true, in his way he's pretty cool." "And we can stay the night so I won't have to worry about drinking and driving." They left for Loughton, Essex at just after one the following Saturday afternoon. The plan was that Charles and Monica would got to the salsa tea dance in Wanstead whilst Camille went shopping in Loughton and Buckhurst Hill where there was numerous boutiques. Bruce had said that he would be going to his club to play snooker so they all arranged to be ready to go out to dinner by eight thirty. "Fuck me Monica," Camille exclaimed when her potential mother came downstairs wearing one of her skimpy Latin dance dresses. "You aren't going out like that are you?" "Of course it's what they all wear." "Bloody sex on legs as far as I can see, you look fab." "We have to go, do you want a lift Cam," Charles asked? "No I'll walk, I am told it is good for you." Charles pulled the Rangerover into a car park cut into Epping Forest. They immediately kissed deep and long. "It's been to long Mons," he groaned running his hand up and down her back noting the lack of a bra strap. "Who don't we stay here?" "No, come on we have to go, it counts towards the competition." "True, but I need you so badly." "It'll be dark on our way home." They got to Wanstead just as the dance started and were soon on the floor swirling around to a cha cha cha. As Monica strode purposefully forward to the surging beat, she slipped and her ankle turned over. "Oh my god," she cried as the pain hit her. Charles grabbed her. "You ok?" "No, it bloody hurts," she said leaning against her young lover. "Will you be able to carry on?" Gingerly putting her foot to the ground, Monica winced with the pain. "I don't think so I must have twisted it." "Let's leave it then and go home, I'll get something from the pharmacy." Charles helped her out of the hall and got her into the car. "I suppose that sods up the car park doesn't it Mons?" Laughing, she replied. "Yes I need to get something on this. Do you put a sprained ankle into hot or cold water.?" "Haven't got the foggiest, I'll ask in the chemist shop or do you want to go A and E?" Stopping at a Boots the Chemist in Wanstead High Street, they bought some Voltarol ointment and an elasticated support that was recommended by the pharmacist who told them to put it in cold water or place a bag of ice or peas from the freezer on the swelling. They got to the house a few minutes later, which was just over an hour since they had left to go to the dance. Charles let them in with his key and was slightly surprised that the alarm was not on. Smiling as he helped Monica through the front door, he assumed that Bruce had left first and that doing anything as mundane as turning on an alarm would be beneath Camille. "Let's go in the lounge and you can lay on the sofa," Charles said as he opened the door to the lounge. They both quickly realised that would not be possible for Bruce was laying full length on the sofa. He was naked. He looked round when he heard the door open and said. "Oh fuck," as he looked to the other side of the room that had been hidden from Charles and Monica by the door. They both looked to that end and saw Camille standing by a window with her back to them. She too was naked. As she heard Bruce speak she turned round and they saw that she was wearing a black strapon cock.