6 comments/ 151816 views/ 10 favorites Living Together By: axnt Why did happiness have to be so elusive for us? Comfort always seemed to be a paycheck away, and yet unfailingly, it slipped away from our grasp. My mother and I could hardly make ends meet, no matter how we tried. My father had left a few years ago, clearly he had guessed our future and had run. I suppose I should hate him for leaving us, but the truth is I hate him for leaving mom; she deserved better. My mother had grown up in an upper middle class family, away from people like we had become, and he had convinced her of the better life she could have; that she would never have to work, and that scheme after scheme after 'fool-proof' scheme would turn their fortunes around. My mother had become a homemaker, while he had taken out loan after loan in their names to finance his latest plan. When he disappeared, my mother was saddled with nearly $350K in debts, no work experience since high school and nowhere to turn. Naturally, any ambitions of attending college or university were set aside, and I did my best to help with the payments. It didn't help any that neither of us could find a meaningful relationship though, as any man who was interested in mom bolted for the door when he heard about me. It was equally as bad for me, as girls don't seem to find living at home, supporting your mother at nineteen to be much of a turn on. All this must sound like something of a whine fest to you, to be honest; we did our best and made the most of it. We never went without an apartment to live in, power or food, the TV was occasionally disconnected and we didn't have a computer or the internet, but we still made it work. In the last few months, things have started to look up a bit; I got a job working construction for a local contractor, building new homes in subdivisions. It wasn't satisfying or 'mentally stimulating', and it was hard work, but it paid double what mom was making at the diner or what I had been making landscaping. The extra money had made a great deal of difference in our lives. While the debt payments still didn't leave much of anything on the side for enjoyment, it was satisfying to know we would have the rent payment on time each month. However, I've lost track of the story I truly wished to tell, and I think it's time I got on with it... "Eric! Have you seen my purse?" I heard mom call from her bedroom. I'd been idly flipping through the channels, hoping to find a good action flick to watch. "It's in the kitchen." I yelled back absently. "Same place as always." I muttered under my breath. "Oh I hate these things." I heard her say as she scrambled into the kitchen. "Honey, there's pizza in the fridge, and..." "I'm not twelve anymore mom." I laughed. She was nervous; she was always nervous before a date. "I know honey." "Just go have fun mom. You deserve some fun." I said, turning on the couch to face her in the kitchen. "So do you." She replied, a sad look on her face. "I have plenty of fun." I replied, though I'm not sure which one of us I was trying to convince. "Hanging out with an old broad like me doesn't count." "You're hardly old mom, you're only thirty five." I countered. "Besides, you look better than a lot of the twenty year olds I know." It was true; she did look great for thirty five, though her face did show the stress she'd been putting up with over the years. Despite her taxing job, she still made time for some kind of workout every day. As a result, she was trim, slightly toned and remained confident in her appearance. "Kind words from a gentle soul." She replied, it was her way of accepting a compliment, I'm not really sure what it meant, but it sounded nice. She'd nearly made it out the door when she remembered her purse, and come running back inside to fetch it. "Have fun." I called after her, as she raced from the apartment a second time. I was alone. It was Friday night, and once again I was alone. My father left when I was sixteen, and in order to help mom keep the bill collectors at bay I'd started working after school, she always insisted I finish high school, and I did. Most of my friends couldn't understand the situation though, and one by one they became conveniently (At least for them) too busy to hang out. Before long I spent every weekend at home with mom, and it'd been like that pretty much ever since. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and returned to the couch, loosing interest in the movie I'd been watching for the umpteenth time and decided to search out some R rated movies that might have some exposed tits in it. My search went unrewarded, and when my beer was gone, I decided to give up. I think I ended up watching one of those home improvement shows where they talk about how new homes should be built. I can tell you for certain; we had done at least half the tings they talked about being done wrong by contractors... I wasn't proud that we did things the cheap way, or the easy way, but I wasn't going to screw with my pay check. I don't remember watching anything after that, I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I woke up some time later when my mother eased herself down into the couch beside me. "Sorry I woke you." "It's okay. What time is it?" "A little after nine." "In the morning?" I asked, surprised I'd slept so long on the couch. I'd become used to the 6:00am start of my construction job. "Night. A little after nine at night." "Oh. You're home early." "Didn't it go well?" "Well it was going great..." She began, but she trailed off suddenly. "Until you mentioned me." I finished for her, having discovered the truth long ago. Those men whom my mother dated that could handle her having kids lost it when they found out how old I was. Those men seemed to enjoy the thought of playing daddy to a six year old, but anything beyond that and they lost interest. "I'm sorry." "You've got nothing to be sorry about." My mother said, rather harshly and with enough of a slur that I knew she'd had just a bit too much to drink. "I'm the one who should be sorry honey." "You shouldn't have to stay home from university to support your fuckin' useless mother." She cursed; it was something she only did if she'd had too much to drink. "You're not useless." "We'll get through this." "The perpetual optimist." She said with a smile. "So another joker who can't appreciate a woman eh?" "Suppose so." She replied quietly. We sat in silence for a while before mom said goodnight and went off to bed. Two weeks later, it was my turn to head out on a date. I'd been working up the courage to ask Lindsay, who lived two floors down from us, out on a date. Things had been going great, we'd had a fair bit to drink and we'd made it back to her place after dinner and a walk at the beach. We were making out on the couch, and I had just unhooked the strap of her bra when her roommate walked in. "Oh my good Lindz." Her roommate gasped. "With that guy? He lives upstairs with his girlfriend! He's cheating on her." She hissed as she walked out of the room. It was over and I knew it. No matter how many times it happened, convincing a girl that she was my mom only made things worse. Lindsay made a pathetic excuse about having to get up early for class the next day, and I took it as an obvious hint to leave. I didn't bother to explain, or even to say anything; it wasn't the first time. I was horny as hell as I took the steps two and three at a time up to our apartment. I entered the apartment quietly, assuming my mom would be asleep when I arrived home; she worked hard during the week. When I walked into the living room, my jaw hit the floor, and my feet felt as though they were rooted to the ground. If I had been horny when I left Lindsay's apartment, I was suddenly on the verge of explosion now. The room was dark except for the TV, but I could see that my mom was spread out on the couch, completely naked with her head thrown back and her eyes clamped shut, rubbing her pussy at a fevered pace. On the TV screen, a man pounded wildly into a woman who was clearly older than him. It wasn't until that very moment that I even considered the fact that my mom was a woman at all. The proof however, was spread out on the couch. Her body was magnificent, her skin seemed flawless, the light from the TV reflected slightly from the sweat on her skin, medium sized breasts that looked just slightly larger than a handful sat proudly on her chest, one of them being massaged lightly by her own hand. The faintest patch of hair lined her pubic area and the room smelled of her sweet aroma. I didn't think I had made a sound, and yet my mom's eyes flew open and she stared directly into my eyes. Her expression did not change, nor did her actions cease. She continued to rub her pussy with at least the same intensity as before, and within a minute, she came. She moaned loudly as her entire body tensed up, every muscle seemed to contract, and yet her eyes never left mine. Her body shook violently, and she said something I couldn't hear over and over. She finally closed her eyes as she stopped shaking, and I found myself finally free to move once again. I didn't say a word, I was unsure I could trust myself in the state I was. I walked quickly to my bedroom and closed the door. I sat on my bed, and before I knew what I had done, my pants were off and I was stroking my now solid erection. "Eric?" My mother called as she knocked lightly on my door. I quickly threw the sheets over myself. "Yeah?" I asked cautiously. "Can I come in?" "Yeah." When my mother entered the room, she was wearing a cheap red bathrobe, something I'd bought her for Christmas years ago at Wal-Mart. She walked slowly over to my bed, obviously as embarrassed by the situation as I was. "Honey, I think we need to talk." I didn't say anything. "I'm not going to patronize you Eric, I'm sure you know about sex; heck, you may have even had it before." She said casually, and surprised me by her directness; until then, our home had been fairly conservative. I wondered if she'd been drinking. "But I want to explain." She added, suddenly sounding unsure of herself, as if she'd come to the end of the speech she'd practiced. "Mmm." It was all I could bring myself to say. "It's been a long time for me." She began slowly. "Since your father actually, and years before he left at that." She continued, more confidently. "I just..." "I had to..." Her eyes had fallen on the tent in my bed sheets. "What is that?" She asked, almost stupidly, as if she didn't already know. I turned a deep crimson red instantly. "Oh honey, I'm sorry." She apologized, suddenly struck by how silly her question had been. "Well of course it is..." "I mean you saw me didn't you..." "You were probably..." "Oh my I'm rambling..." "Why are you home so early?" She asked suddenly, shaking her head as if the question had smacked her. "It didn't work out." "What happened?" "Her roommate showed up." "Oh." Mom smiled teasingly, "two women too much for you?" She joked. "Actually, her roommate thought you were my girlfriend, and that I was cheating on you." I replied sullenly, I really didn't want to talk about it, least of all with a raging hard-on in front of my mother. "Your girl..." She laughed openly, clearly pleased by the mistake. "I don't see how it's funny." I snapped, more out of frustration than anger. "You're right." She grinned, trying to hold back another laugh. "I'm sorry." "It happens more often than you think." "And my display out there must have just made it worse." "You might say that." "Oh I'm sorry honey. I guess you want to be left alone to take care of that." She said, staring at the tent in my sheets again. "Doubt I could now." I admitted, sure I wouldn't have a chance at release after our little conversation. "Oh I'm sorry honey." "Please stop saying that." ... "Fine." She said, with a resigned look on her face. "Fine what?" I asked. "You can never speak of this to anyone. And it can't go past this." "What are you talking about?" "Well, clearly I've caused this." She said in a motherly voice, grasping the edge of the sheet. "So I'd better fix it." She added as she flung the sheet away from my body. "Lay back honey. Let mommy fix it." She teased as her tiny hands wrapped around my cock. The feeling was like a thousand tiny static shocks to my brain. I know I should have told her to stop, that it was my mom, that there should have been some obvious line there, yet I didn't. Instead, I moaned loudly, and bucked my hips up slightly against her hands. "Down boy." She laughed, still holding onto that motherly tone. She slid her hand slowly up and down the length of my manhood a few times before I felt the warmth of her breath against the underside of my cock, and it jumped involuntarily. When her lips touched the end of my cock, I felt like I was about to explode. She sucked as much as she could of my cock into her mouth, and when I announced that I was going to cum, she did her best to suck harder. I came with a force that I couldn't remember ever feeling before. The first shot of cum hit that back of mom's throat, and when she moaned at the feeling the vibrations took me to an even higher level. When I finished cumming, some had leaked out and rested on her chin, which she wiped with a finger and licked off. I felt drained, and yet I was still nearly as rock hard as before. Mom's eyes had become glossy, and she didn't resist as I rolled her onto her back, and kissed my way down her body. She didn't say anything until I was between her legs. "Eric, n... no... I said it couldn't go any further." She pleased, though her weak protest seemed more for modesty's sake than anything else. She may not have intended for it to go that far when she started, but it was clear she didn't want to stop. I had never gone down on a girl before, and all that I knew about it I had learned from watching little bits of porn on TV. I licked the outer lips of her pussy. It tasted different, musky but sweet. "Unngggghhhh!" She moaned, clenching her fists into the mattress. "Do you want me to stop?" I asked teasingly. No Response. I licked again. "Unngggghhhhh! Don't... stop..." I attacked her pussy, licking every part of it, trying to remember what I had seen on TV. I stuck my tongue into her opening. "Oh shit! Lick my clit baby." Mom panted, wrapping her fingers into my hair, and pulling me closer to her. She mashed her pussy against my face. "My clit baby... My clit." She begged. I didn't know what her clit was, but I tried. I licked up towards the top of her pussy against a small lump of flesh. "That's it baby, right there." She nearly screamed. I sucked the lump into my mouth, and began battering it with my tongue. "Fuck! Baby... yes... Cummmmmmiiinnnnggg...." She really did scream that time. All of her muscles went rigid again, like I had seen them do on the couch, and she held my face tight against her pussy as she gyrated back and forth, her entire body convulsing; I kept up with my attack on her clit and as she began to calm down, she pulled herself away. "Woah, ungh, woah." She sighed, holding me away from her pussy. "Too sensitive." She explained when I looked at her face. She pulled me up beside her, and we embraced as lovers. We kissed passionately, and our hands explored each other's bodies. When her hand touched my cock, he smiled widely. "I was hoping he'd be up to a little more." She teased, as she nudged me on top of her. She guided my cock to her waiting pussy, sliding it up and down her pussy to get it nice and wet. I went slowly when I first entered her. "Fuck." Mom moaned as I entered her farther. Her pussy was so tight, so warm and so wet; it was like a silky heaven for my cock. "Ungh, fuck me Eric. Fuck mommy... Oh shit it's so big." She cooed. I started fucking her faster and deeper, each time she begged for more. Before long, I was pounding into mom as hard as I dared eliciting moans and curses from her I'd never heard before. I could feel my impending orgasm building, "I'm going to cum", I announced. "Oh fuck, cum inside me Eric. Cum inside mommy." She begged, it was all the encouragement I needed, and her words sent me over the edge of an orgasm so mind-blowingly intense that I'm sure I blacked out. I remember the sound of mom's voice as she called out my name, her own orgasm striking at the same moment, and the feeling of her pussy contracting against my cock milking every drop of seed from my balls, yet I can't remember anything more. I awoke the next morning alone in bed, unsure of whether the night's events had actually taken place. I was not long in my uncertainties, as mom popped her head through the doorway. "Good morning honey." "Morning." I replied, still uncertain. "Yes, it happened." She laughed, obviously sensing my uncertainty. "And it'll likely happen again." She added with a wink. And it did happen again, many times. We didn't become lovers really, we weren't in love. We didn't sleep in the same bed, but we shared all the other responsibilities of the household so sex just came naturally I suppose. The cops found my father eventually, and the prosecutor agreed to have the state clear the debt in exchange for my mom's testimony. The bastard went to jail for 20 years; apparently, we were only one of his 'families'. Mom eventually quit at the diner after meeting a nice man who finally appreciated her for her. I found a wonderful young woman whom I married a year later. We have two beautiful girls named "Emily and Jessica." Every once and a while mom and I get together to 'reminisce'. My wife knows all about it, and has joined in a couple of times, though that's a story for another time. The End * * * * * Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who posted comments/send feedback for my previous submissions. I've tried to incorporate as many of the suggestions as possible, and I think this is by far my best story; thanks to you. I truly hope you enjoyed it. And, as always, I look forward to your comments/feedback. Living Together I was hardly inside the flat and certainly the door wasn't shut behind me when: we were in each others arms, our mouths were clamped, our hands were all over the other's body and our tongues were deep in the other's throats. We were frantically tearing at each other's clothes. He pulled my ridiculously short, denim micro skirt up round my waist, I fumbled the belt and zip of his jeans undone, his hands went into my panties and grabbed the cheeks of my bum pulling me harder against his glorious erection. I undid the buttons on his shirt, nuzzled his hairy chest and nibbled his nipple. He pushed his jeans down, he wasn't wearing pants, and I pulled my tee shirt over my head, I wasn't wearing a bra. He pushed me towards the stairs. I thought he meant me to go up them but he pushed me again so that I almost fell on them. I put my hands out to support myself. I had my feet on the floor and my hands on the fourth step. My body was bent in the middle. My bum was in the air, my tits were hanging down. And like that, me with my panties on and him with his trousers round his ankles, he fucked me doggy style. It was quick and vigorous; hard and dirty, it was exactly right for the circumstances. We climaxed together, quite noisily I recall. I collapsed onto the carpeted stairs with him lying on top of me. We hadn't exchanged a word until he said. "Welcome to Notting Hill," as he eased himself off my back and went and shut the front door. +++++++++++ "I've left her," DD had said earlier that morning. "What do you mean?" "I've left Philippa, it's over, I'm a free man." "You're joking." I gasped. "No I left on Monday." "That's three days ago, why didn't you call me sooner." "I had to make sure, I was really away and I needed to get my head in order. Also I had to sort out somewhere to live." "So where are you?" "I've borrowed Mark's place, he's on a sabbatical in California for a few months." "Well I'm gobsmacked," I said. "I can hardly believe it." "Well come round Sam and I will help you believe it, don't wear much." +++++++++++++ That was how I came to be kneeling on the stairs of that flat in Notting Hill being fucked doggy style by my long term lover David Deekins. I met him when I was at university in Bristol. He was a lecturer, but I wasn't lectured by him. No I got to know him because I was producing the end of term play for the drama society and he was the staff member responsible for vetting what we did and providing support and advice. We had decided to do 'What the Butler Saw' by Joe Orton. It's a fairly raunchy tale with some interesting bed scenes between two women. One was played by me and the other by Stephanie, the woman who had introduced me to the delights of girly sex hence, the 'girly' scenes required little acting skills on our parts! "We will be doing those scenes naked," I had told him as we sat in his flat. He was married and his wife lived in London, she had some high powered Civil Service job and travelled a lot, mainly to Brussels and Strasbourg I found out later. "Really?" He'd said, his eyes seeming to me to roam over my body, 'possibly wondering what I would look like naked' I wondered. The group of female students I mixed with often talked about the lecturers. The welter of opinion was that most were too old, including DD as we called him who we put in his early forties. Not for me though. I had always preferred older men and I very much preferred Mister Deekins. Yes I fancied him badly. And that was why I had gone to his flat alone, why I had told him that Steph and I would be naked, why I had gone on to say that there would be a lesbian scene between us and why I had said that if he needed a preview of any scene I could arrange it. It was also why just after that we were kissing and shortly later we were having sex on his green leather Chesterfield. We kept in touch after I left midway through my second year without completing my degree. Actually, kept in touch is something of a misnomer. For the next six months we had sex at least twice a week, but when I left it was more difficult, that is until he left Bristol for a departmental heads job at London. For the past three years we had seen each other whenever we could. That was mostly when the 'bitch from hell' as we came to call his wife was away on her frequent business trips. During college vacations, when both of us was free, were the best times. It was during them that occasionally we got to spend whole nights together, often in his marital bed; I liked that. I loved him and still do, no doubt about that. And he loves me, but we both know there is no real future, after all a twenty plus year age gap is very hard to cope with as are children almost my age. ++++++++++++++++++++ After the urgent shag in the hallway, we talked. We also shagged and then talked more. In fact we shagged and talked nearly all night. I didn't leave until four. I spent a lot of the next few days with DD. I had to go into college, but went to the flat after that, usually mid afternoon. And we did what two lovers who hadn't been used to the luxuries of time, availability and location, should do, we fucked. I was at a private college studying Stage and Film Production. I had enrolled there after ducking out from uni and was, generally enjoying it. My aim wasn't to be an actor, I couldn't stand the rejections. I wanted to write and produce for stage, TV and film. The three year course was going well, but I had to fund myself. I never used to have to do that and had I realised I would need to, I probably would not have enrolled; hard work and Sammi had never traditionally got on. When I started at the college after ducking out of uni, dad was doing well and I was able to live rent free with my brother in a flat my dad's company owned in trendy Islington, just off Upper Street, it was heaven. But when the development company went bust the flat went with it as did mum and dad's marriage. He went to live in Spain to try to salvage something from his 'building empire' and I went to live with mum at the family 'mansion' in Essex. I lived well there, but now there was no money from dad to pay the bills. So I had to pay my own way. I won't bore you with the details of how I started as a glamour photographic model, but that's what I did. I started posing for amateur photographers at their club nights, but by the time of DD leaving home, I had progressed to one to one sessions at a number of studios. I had also progressed from 'nice' poses, in scanty underwear, topless and nude, with legs firmly closed to anything goes as far as legs are concerned. I had also progressed to posing with my hands in action on my body simulating masturbation and orgasm; as time went on there seemed to be less and less simulation! "Why don't you move in Sam?" DD said the next evening as we lay in each others arms in bed. "It's difficult with mum." "She doesn't know about us?" "Fuck no, of course not," I replied squeezing his flaccid cock. "Can't you tell her?" "Well I could, but I am loath to do so just yet." "Why?" "Well not too many mums would be that pleased to have their daughter say they were seeing a married man twenty years older than her would they?" "Hmmm, I dunno." "Oh come on David be fair, especially one that has only been parted from his wife for a few days." "Yes I see the problem." I smiled. "And remember, darling, she is younger than you," I said rather cruelly. "Fuck off," he said flicking my nipple with the back of his finger. "You cheeky little bitch." Over the next day or so I thought of little else than moving in with him. I so wanted to do that. I had never lived with a man and I badly wanted to live with DD. But how could I? +++++++++++++++ "Open them a little more luv," he said as he stood over me aiming his camera downwards. I did. "Now get hold of the waist of the panties and pull it up, hard." I did. "Harder, with both hands so that I really get your camel's foot," he went on ripping off shot after shot of my body clad just in black, fishnet hold-ups and white silk panties. I did. He knelt down between my lewdly spreaded thighs and focused his camera right on my pussy. I knew my slit was clearly emphasised by the tight silk. My tugging on the panties not only framed my mound, but also the lips of my pussy. It also pulled the material slightly inside my lips and tightly against my clit; I wondered if he was aware of that. I hoped he wasn't and of the effect that has on a girl; it's so very hard to resist becoming aroused when you are rubbing your clit with your silk knickers. I hoped, even more fervently, that there were no visible signs on the silk of that arousal. But of course sod's law applies in such situations. "Oh my God Sam," he breathed, putting the Canon to one side for a moment. "What?" "Look," he said holding the camera so I could see the last shots. The gusset of my silk panties was darker than the rest. My wetness was on show. Oliver saw it. I knew that he had seen it and he knew that I knew that. "Oh fuck," I said as his hand reached out and cupped my mound and pussy. He had been there before so it wasn't a shock, more a relief. It was difficult being with DD an hour or so later. It was even more difficult when he kissed me and pushed his hand up my skirt and also cupped my mound and pussy. And it was as good as impossible to cope with when he pushed me back onto the sofa, pulled my panties down and started to shag me. +++++++++++++++ This was my conundrum. I wanted to live with my lover. I wanted to be with him as much as possible and I wanted to be faithful to him. And I was faithful to him in my way as he was to me in his. But I had to earn money to pay for my college and he had, until a few days ago, lived with his bitch of a wife. So he shagged her and I let photographers mess around with me. That worked. Well I felt it did. But that was when he lived with and shagged the bitch. We never talked about his sex life with her and he had no idea what I did as a model. But now he didn't live with her. And now he wanted me to live with him. Fuck and bollocks what a mess. It should have been momentous news, but instead it was a right fuck up, fuck it. Anyway, I came up with some cock and bull story for mum about a friend, who she had met, Stephanie Gordon, having a spare room in her flat in town and how much more convenient that would be for my college in Bloomsbury, near to the British Museum. She bought it, but then I think she was pleased to get me out of the house for I was sure I was 'queering her pitch' with her potential conquests, young guys of my age were her recent penchant. "I'll move in Friday if that's alright?" I told DD when we spoke on the phone on the Monday." "Fantastic, want me to help bring your stuff?" "No thanks, I can handle it," I replied not wanting him and mum to meet. After all they were about the same age and I knew she'd fancy him as I expected he might her, men always seem to go for a full pair of tits and mum had those in spades. And of course, on top of that, how could I explain who the hell he was to her; best to keep him out of sight. It was brilliant, it was amazing, it was incredible and it was totally and utterly so fucking exciting that for the next few days I felt as if I was floating through life. The fact that for most of that weekend I was on the end of DD's cock one way or the other, slightly contradicts that term is beside the pint, for my mind floated whilst my body was penetrated and pampered everywhere. I hadn't, of course, brought all my modelling gear. That would have needed both a lot more storage space than was available and an explanation as to why I needed something like a hundred pairs of panties, fifty or so bras and a range of basques, waspies and teddies. I'd used up a favour from Sandra, the woman owner of the studio where I worked, for her to store the gear for me. Actually, that was more convenient for her flat was over the studio which was in a large, detached, three story Edwardian house. That meant that I didn't need to lug a great big holdall and a hanging wardrobe carrier all the way from Essex to the studio in North London. That was a big plus, but of course there was a downside; there's no free lunches in any business. I had to have sex with her. She had seduced me when she'd 'auditioned' me for modelling a year or so ago. She was my second female lover and so different to Stephanie, my first. And I don't mean by her older, slim, almost boyish figure compared to Steph's body that was dominated by her glorious breasts. I mean more in the type of lovemaking. She was dominant, urgent, almost rough and showed little tenderness. With Steph it was loving, languid, soft, and gentle mutual sex where we both contributed evenly. With Sandra there was no doubt who was in charge and there was equally no doubt as to what we were doing and that was fucking, whereas Stephanie and I had made love during that magical last three months of my time at uni. Sandra was a tough Londoner. An astute businesswoman who had built up an 'empire' of property she had investments in the studio, a few massage parlours, some web sites and, I was pretty sure, some brothels as well. "Of course you can luv," she said when I popped up to see her. It was after I had masturbated Oliver to a stunning climax, which splattered all over my breasts whilst his fingers probed deep into my pussy. "How much space will you need?" I explained what I wanted to store and she showed me to a bedroom in the attic on the third floor. She didn't ask any questions. "This do?" She asked opening an old fashioned, stand alone, dark wooden wardrobe with a mirror on the middle door. "That'll be great." We agreed that I would drive over the next morning with all my gear. "I'll even help you put it all away," she said moving closer to me. I could smell the cigarette smoke on her and see down the front of her white silk blouse that had one or two too many buttons undone. Her small breasts were bare. "It'll be fun seeing all your lovely stuff," she said, touching my cheek with her fingers. "You won't have to rush away will you?" She asked letting her hand fall onto my shoulder. Her intentions could hardly have been more obvious when she opened the door to me the next day. Her longer than was fashionable for a forty five year old woman, black hair was down, a style she rarely adopted. It tumbled onto her shoulders framing her angular, rather hard looking, but not unattractive face. She had a pointed, quite big nose and thin lips, but lovely, smoky grey eyes. She was wearing a silk dressing gown. It was dark blue, had no buttons, just a tie and was floor-length with thin lapels. The top was gaping as she stood holding the door. I could see the edges of her small breasts. The tie wasn't done up, she was holding the robe closed. That made me gulp. "Hi, let me help," she said bending down and picking up a couple of my plastic bags, which were stuffed full of panties and stockings. Obviously the robe gaped further and as she straightened up I saw more of her breasts. I wasn't so much excited by seeing them, I'm not a lesbian, as I was intrigued by her display; it was so fucking obvious I almost asked 'Do you want to fuck me here in the hall or wait until we get to that bedroom.' I didn't have to, though, because no sooner were we both in the house than she let go of the robe and it opened all the way down. She was wearing burgundy coloured, silk French knickers and black fishnet hold-ups under it. I thought she looked faintly ridiculous, particularly at eleven in the morning. Looking at me and seeing my gaze running up and down her body she said quietly. "It's been a long time Sam," as she dropped the bags and took me into her arms. She made me cum very quickly. I was still in my jeans, sitting squashed against her on the stairs when she did that. My tee was pushed up round my neck, my jeans were open, my tits were out of my bra and her hand was in my knickers. It was quick, mechanical and urgent yet surprisingly enjoyable. It also gave me a very strong climax, but then I hadn't been with a girl for some months. I took my jeans and tee shirt off and pushed my boobs back into the white, see through bra. We packed the gear away into the drawers and shelves in the wardrobe. Handling all the sexy underwear, the thongs, little shorts, panties and bikini bottoms, the multi-coloured, mostly diaphanous bras, the basques and corsets, the suspender belts and the array of stockings got to both of us a little. I often arouse myself when I fiddle with my lingerie and this was no exception so, when she again put her arms round me, I really was up for it and was putty in her hands. Having been fucked by her three times I knew what I was in for and that it would be a tough, demanding, but probably overall, very exciting time. I wasn't wrong. She quickly had me laying on the bed on my front; she didn't bother taking my bra or thong off and she laid flat on my back. I could feel her almost negligent tits pressing into me as she wiggled her hands round to cup my boobs, firstly outside my bra, then inside on my bare flesh. She squeezed them, rather hard and pinched the nipples at the same time. She had positioned herself between my legs opening them a little and was now pushing on the inside of my knees making me open them further. I felt her sliding down my body. Further and further until she was completely off my body and was lying between my open legs. Her hands were gripping my hips as her mouth slid across the cheeks of my bottom. She was squeezing the slight excess of flesh on my hips, which gives a female her womanly shape, very hard, her fingernails were digging into me and she was hurting me. I knew that would happen and recognised that I had to go through that, for that's just how Sandra is and that's what gets her off. She was licking, sucking, kissing and biting all over my cheeks as her fingers slid up my legs and pressed on my lips through the gusset of my thong. 'Oh fuck' I suddenly thought remembering I was going home to DD and would be naked with him. I wiggled my bum and groaned, that stopped her. She pulled the slither of material away from my pussy and she ran her fingers from the base of my spine, right through the crease of my bottom, across my bumhole and on and lightly into my lips ending up pressing my clit. That was amazing and made me jerk and grunt. I felt her rolling my panties down until the waist elastic was beneath my hips, the gusset was pulled away from me and my anus and pussy were on show. I expected to feel her fingers or maybe mouth on my lips, but no, as was her habit, she surprised me. I felt her breath first, then her lips followed by her tongue, right on my bumhole. I again jumped, this time with both the surprise and the surge of sensations that roared from the sensitive puckered skin surrounding that hole to all parts of my body. She was pressing with the point of her tongue, pushing and sort of probing. It was incredible and I could feel my anus opening for her. I was gasping and grunting with a combination of excitement and pleasure, both of which were heightened as I felt her fingers sliding into my soaking cunt. I was gripping the bedclothes so tightly. She started to finger me. My bottom, automatically it seemed, lifted from the bed. She was slipping her fingers, the surrogate cock in and out of me simulating the movement of being fucked, a movement I was beginning to know so well. I was starting to cum, she realised that and slowed down. I relaxed and lay there for a moment or two and then I felt a fingertip from her other hand going right where the tip of her tongue had been. She pressed me there, then moved it away and ran it along my lips which were stretched round the two, three or fingers she had sunk into my cunt. I realised what she was doing, she was lubricating it in preparation for finger fucking my arse. And that is exactly what she did and I enjoyed every second of my anal finger fuck. Living Together +++++++++++++ So, for the second time in a few days I went home to my lover having just had sex with someone else. That was hard for me, but then, I rationalised, if I was to live like a slut, which to an extent I was becoming, that was par for the course. That said, the sex with DD was wonderful and was so different to anything else I had ever experienced. But then I had never made love to anyone who I thought I loved. Another problem started to rear its head. I had never had a particularly strong sex drive. I wasn't like other girls at college who needed a lot. I didn't have the need to cum most days as they said they did, in fact I wasn't aware of having the need to even cum once a week. I didn't really need to have a regular shag and I could go ages without feeling the urge to wank myself. Suddenly, though, I was in the position where DD wanted it all the time and I had my modelling clients to cope with as well. If I found daily sex with him hard to handle, I found more than that with the clients added in, almost impossible. I was starting to have to feign my orgasms. It worried me a great deal. We were only a week into living together, something we had both fantasised about, but had thought would never happen, when I was already wrought with problems. The main being my glamour modelling, the extras I provided and the whole thing of having such a part of my life hidden from the man I was now spending my life with. I couldn't see how it could go on, but I couldn't stop it, I needed the money. Sooner or later he would wonder where I went to on my afternoon and evening appointments, there were only so many excuses. And sooner or later I would come home, as I had after Sandra, with marks on my body. What the hell can a girl say to her lover about a big red suck mark on her tit that wasn't there when he had shagged her that morning? There had to be a way. The other side of the coin though was the truly memorable sex I had with David. A typical evening would be whoever was home first would prepare dinner, always candlelit. If it was me, I would dress provocatively; if it was him he would wear a dressing gown, a long, deep crimson silk one. We would eat dinner chatting about our respective days and then we would make love, sometimes in the bedroom, but often elsewhere: on the settee in the lounge, on the floor, him sitting on a kitchen chair me straddling him or me bent over a table. We would then bathe and shower together and either, settle down for in evening in front of the TV with both of us in our dressing gowns or, we'd pop out for a drink. We had no real social life, for we had no joint friends and none of his knew about me. Back home we would then go to bed and have sex again. I found the true pleasure of really sleeping with a man all night and not having to get up and go home in the early hours. During the three years of our affair we had not seen each other that frequently. Sometimes two or three times a week, when the bitch was away, but then maybe once in three weeks when she was home. Although the sex had always been good and I had never had to feign anything, we had never really got used to each other. Each time we were alone it was as if we were starting again. Although that was quite exciting, we didn't achieve that easy smoothness that longer term lovers I assumed enjoyed. After less than a week living together that all changed and at last I realised the real relationship between sex and love. What that meant was that, not only were we much more relaxed with each other, but also we were able to more easily experiment and try new things. In that first week DD 'Sandra'd' me for the first time, in that he licked my bum hole until he made me cum. The next night I returned the favour. I had never licked anyone's bum before and it was far from being distasteful. The grunting, groaning, moaning and sighing and the jerking and shaking of his body that my tongue licking around that crinkled flesh brought from him was a massive great turn on for me. Knowing that simply licking his arse could do that made me feel fucking great. "I'm near, I'm cumming," he groaned starting to move away. I was sucking him, fellating him as the sex manuals call it, what a great word, fellatio is. I was lying on our bed naked, propped up by a pile of pillows. He was kneeling across me, his legs alongside my tits. I was holding his cock and cradling his balls with my hands. I had licked his length, tongued all round the head and had taken it deep into my mouth; I can't deep throat so I hadn't tried, gagging, coughing and retching doesn't go down to well when having oral sex. I had slid it in and almost out of my mouth very slowly and then repeated that quickly. I had rubbed his cock all over my face and tits and I had kissed all over that his balls, stomach and his thighs. I was working hard and getting my just rewards from his reactions. "Oh yes, that's fantastic, that's fucking great," he had sighed as his hands ruffled and pulled my blonde hair. I held his beautifully hard dick as I moved my mouth lower. I licked all round his scrotum and then sucked one ball at a time into my mouth and then, going the whole hog, I got both in their. "Oh my fucking Lord," he groaned. "Doesn't the bitch do this for you?" I asked sliding a finger between his legs and into the crease of his bum. I took him back in my mouth and starting sucking, harder this time. He started to move, he started sliding in and out, he started thrusting as he found my rhythm. We had been this far numerous times and always when he said those words above he would withdraw and shoot onto my tummy or tits, or both or maybe ram his cock up me and cum there. This time, though, I grabbed his hips with both hands and held him there. Held him there with his cock buried deep in my mouth. The message was clear, the invitation was obvious. His hands immediately grabbed my head and held it still. His hips started to pump and thrust more purposefully as he most obviously started to fuck my face. That became a surrogate stomach, my mouth a surrogate cunt, in fact my entire body became just that, a temporary cunt. He was babbling almost like a child as his pace and pressure built up. I was stroking, caressing and rubbing his cock and balls, his thighs and stomach and, of course all over his arse. For the first time, I realised the power of oral sex and the pleasure and satisfaction the giver can gain, I was getting myself off on mouth fucking my lover. It was Magic. I could feel the tension increasing in his cock. "Are you sure Sam?" He gasped pushing in deep and holding himself there rigid. I, of course, couldn't reply, but instead simply nodded. He gave two more thrusts as I held my face still, my lips wrapped round him, with probably half his cock in my mouth. I could feel him straining against my lips and tongue and my fingers, which were holding his balls felt them sort of wobble or convulse as they seemed to lift up in his scrotum, presumably as they started to dispense their offering. Then, accompanied by a deep, animalistic grunt and him pulling my head forward making firmer contact with his cock, he exploded. For the first time I had a man cum in my mouth and I was so pleased that it was DD. His spunk seemed to fill the back of my throat very quickly, but the ejaculations don't take long for men do they? I held his cock as I removed it from my mouth. A little string of his cum was sticking to my lips and the tip of his cock, whilst the rest was still in my mouth. I put my tongue out and licked that into my mouth as I looked up as he looked down. Our eyes met. We both smiled. I tipped my head back and with an exaggerated gesture I swallowed my lover's cum, something I had never done for any man. +++++++++++++ Although the sex was fabulous and being with the man I thought I loved was great, it wasn't all sweetness and light. I was surprised at how messy he was, he left his clothes on the floor and rarely hung anything up. He couldn't or wouldn't iron and had no idea with the washing machine, he had always had 'ladies that do' do that for him. His cooking was ok, but he was a hopeless shopper. I could, though, I thought, handle those things in the future. I was starting to think longer term. That created another series of problems for it brought into play our ages and the twenty plus years age gap. He would talk about things as if I should know about them. "I was only three when the fucking wall came down," I snapped at him one Sunday afternoon when there was something on Sky news about the Berlin Wall. I talked about bands he'd never heard of and he mentioned groups that seemed like history to me and were made up of old men. Films would be on tele that he would say were great and I'd find out they had been made when I was a baby. Going out wasn't much better. People stared and we were both conscious that he could easily be taken as my dad. We had no friends and the prospect of making any seemed bleak. So, in essence it was just DD, me and sex. That was our relationship. It got worse. He kept getting phone calls from his two kids and, I suspected, from the bitch as well. He talked about his children and said we would have to meet. 'Bollocks' I thought 'I don't want to be a stepmother to a guy just a year younger than me!' Despite all this, the sex was still fabulous. We fucked a lot in every conceivable position and all over the flat. I got more adventurous in every way. It was a Tuesday, I remember it vividly. I'd had a session with a new client. "Ok for extras Sam?" He had asked as I sat on the bed in the studio dressed in the classic glamour model gear of all black, stockings, sussie belt, bra and thong. I'd been simulating masturbation for him so as he said that I still had my hand in my panties stroking my wet lips and throbbing clit. "What do you want?" I reluctantly asked, the lure of the money overcoming my desire to 'be faithful' to DD. He undid his zip and slid his hand between my legs. "Let me play with you while you give me a hand job, unless of course the menu has changed." "No it's still the same," I said helping him remove his jeans. "So I don't get to fuck you then," he said rubbing my clit as I slid his big, hard cock out of his boxers; he was fully erect. "No," I responded sharply getting a surge of pleasure from his pressure on my clit. He pulled my panties down. I closed my eyes and lay back letting him finger me as I, almost 'thought of England.' He was fiddling with my tits pulling them out of my bra and pinching my nipples with his other hand. "Let me cum on them," he said as I saw he was wacking himself off. That looked good, I love watching a guy do that. I raised up and undid my bra. He was standing beside the bed, I was lying on the edge. He was wanking furiously, his eyes almost closed, his mouth slightly open. He looked good. I forgot everything else, DD, the money, my partial resolve to stop extras. The slut that I am was concerned with one simple thing; getting as much sexual pleasure as I could. "Oh Sam," he groaned, obviously getting quite near. I pressed my boobs together and, as he bent forward a bit I raised myself from the bed. His first stream missed my tits. Instead it splattered across my face leaving dribbles on my eyes and lips. His second landed right in the deep cleavage I was creating by pushing them together. He pushed the end of his cock against my tits and in his sperm and rubbed it all over my boobs. "Just a couple more shots Sam," he said focusing his camera on my cum covered tits and face. After that I went home, showered thoroughly and started to think about the evening. I was to cook dinner so I popped out and bought some pasta, salad, crispy bread and two bottles of a good Chianti. Back home I undressed and slipped into a shorty, silk, tied at the waist, peach coloured robe; it barely covered my bum and I knew by experimenting in front of a mirror that if I bent forward just a few degrees my cheeks were exposed. I didn't bother with anything under it and I knew DD would like that. I guess I was sort of compensating for earlier in the day when the client had cum on my tits; sort of in a weird way trying to make it up to DD. I sipped a glass of wine and smoked s cigarette, something I rarely do with DD around. I leant out the wind to blow the smoke away. For some reason I felt hellishly nervous. The fact that I also felt terribly guilty and was full of remorse hardly helped. I was in the lounge sitting on the big sofa where DD and I had made love many times now, both lying on it and me bent over the arm, my bum in the air as he fucked me from behind. I heard the door open. I didn't get up but called out. "I'm in the lounge darling" and smiling added as an afterthought "Come and get it." I couldn't understand what was happening at first for the half closed door of the lounge suddenly burst open and a woman's voice was screaming. "Darling, I'll give you fucking darling and come and get it!" I quickly recovered and realised it was the bitch, DD's wife. 'How the fuck did she get in here?' I thought, as she stormed into the room. It hadn't occurred to me that she might not be alone, but then he came in as well. I stood up, the front of the robe gaping so that most of my tits were on view. "Look at you, you fucking slut," she screamed. I looked at David, he looked away. "What's happening?" I said to him. "David?" I implored. He didn't say anything. "I'll tell you what's happening you fucking little whore," she went on. I regained a little composure. "What do you want? What's she doing here David?" "She's got something to show you," he replied. "What?" "This," the bitch said throwing a folder onto the sofa. It seemed as if everything was in slow motion: the folder flying through the air, it landing on the sofa and opening, all three of us looking at it as some papers slid from it. They weren't papers I quickly realised, they were photos, photos of me, photos of me almost naked, photos of me I saw with cum all over my tits and face. Yes photos of me taken just that afternoon. I have never heard from or seen DD since that evening.