4 comments/ 128459 views/ 1 favorites The Teaser By: Roadrunner101 The story begins about thirty five years ago. Yeh! I know what you are thinking but it is relevant to my story. I was married fairly young to a much more mature woman, who despite being only a month older than me was much more mature in a lot of ways. Well I learnt a lot from her! we had a couple of kids and then went our own ways. As a result of being single at least in position if not the paper bit, then I met through a mutual friend a young lady who had two kids and was single in the same manner as myself. It took a while, but we eventually clicked and despite a lot of rough roads and problems are still together today. She was and still is possibly the one I should have held out for in the first place, because you see we would have met eventually anyway due to the mutual friends we had. Ah Well too late she cried. But to begin. My lady had a couple of brothers who got on really well with me and she also had a sister who seemed a bit offish, you know, nose in the air type. Anyway she was also a big teaser, always flashing her tits from low cut tops, no bra, and sliding her hands up her thighs exposing lots of flesh for all to see, including her brothers. Well after several years my lady and I moved further away from the family and lost track of then except at Christmas. One weekend we went to the old family area on holidays and called in on several of the brothers and their families. The old friendliness was still there and we and our son enjoyed ourselves. On return home we found a message from my lady's sister that she had missed us and would call in later in the week. She did, still teasing and this time aiming at our twenty year old son. Well he thought it magic that a mature woman, his aunt could show off to him and as a result tagged her at the beach several days later. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't jealous in fact I thought good luck to him. His aunt spent several days in his company and then as usual took off. I had to go to a nearby town a couple of days later and on wandering down the street after my meeting to get some lunch here was my teaser, looking like the cat that had just had all the cream. I felt that she had somehow known of my trip and waited, she showed off her legs and the flash of her white lace undies was quick but spectacular. We talked and I saw more and then we adjoined to nearby motel, where all my thirty five years of dirty thoughts fantasies and flashers were revealed. My sister stripped quickly, the time scale had been pretty kind to her, her legs not overly long were trim and lightly tanned. Her stomach was flat and her breasts were naturally a little saggy but all in all were really standoutish. Her bush was neatly trimmed and not overly thick and could see the protruding lips beneath the blondish though tinged with brown hair. She waited till I also stripped and advanced to me, taking my cock in her hand, she gently tugged on it as it grew leaning forward she kissed me gently on the lips and led me to the bed. Holding my cock she kissed her way down my chest and stomach, giggled as my coarse hair tickled her nose and then took my cock to the full depth of her throat. My fantasies, longing, and dirty thoughts meant that I could not hold back the rush of cum from my cock. She smiled at me as she felt the surge from my balls and took the full load down her throat. Wiping her lips she crawled up my body and lowered herself down straddling my chest. She never spoke a word, just turned around and leaning over took my cock into her hand and mouth working it towards a full erection again. Her pussy and buttocks were on close display to me and I leant forward and licked the full length I could reach. She stiffened as I ran the tip of my tongue over the exposed clitoris and slit of her cunt, wriggled a little as I licked her small brown puckering hole and slid back towards her cunt hole. As she sucked my length and hand jobbed it, I slide my tongue the full depth I could reach inside her cunt. I could feel the reactions that my probings were causing on her body as her body itself reacted to the touches I was able to make on her clitoris, now standing out from the hidden recesses and feeling the starting of her flows as she approached an organism. As she moaned and sucked I began to thrust my hips upwards as she continued to grip my shaft. Suddenly she stood up, moving her cunt away from my probing tongue and swivelled around. Standing a stride me she looked like a goddess, but she quickly slid down and her dripping pussy slide down my vertical shaft. She made a small sound as the cock head slide full stroke inside her. And I waited as she settled herself down on my cock. My I'm not big just average, 7 inches and about an inch and a half around, but due to an accident when I was much younger the head of my cock has a larger than normal 'rim' It has been told to me that it feels like a tickler when it is deep inside and I have learnt to use that to my benefit over the years. After she settled I began to thrust gently at first and she began to raise and lower herself in time with my thrusts gradually we built up to the fucking without thought situation, my cock buried deep inside a cunt that I had lusted, masturbated and dreamt about for years. Then she groaned deep inside her chest, her motions were raising and lowering her breasts in time to our motions. I leaned forward and gripped the underside of them holding and gripping pulling her down more as she came down from the top of my cock. She groaned again and sank down the full length of the shaft the head felt like it was fitted into a groove, the entrance to her womb and then the surge started down in my feet, surging as a hot flush, surging upward through my balls blasting its way out the head of my cock jammed as it was against the entrance to her inner body, then as she moved to accept the surge, I felt the head pop into the womb, The helmet was holding me there and the surge flooded the walls of her womb. I can honestly say that I have only ever felt that sort of grip and holding when deep fucking my lady. Sisters are so alike. She sank deeper down, pushing my balls deep into the crevice between my legs her motions were rubbing her clitoris against my pubic bone and the sensations and feelings that I could feel were beyond description. My sister screamed and collapsed downward on top of me. Her body was still convulsing and moving to the intensity of the orgasm she was experiencing and gripping a tit and the other hand holding her thigh I proceeded to fuck her hard raising her gradually limper body several feet into the air with each thrust. As my cock slowly shrank from the release of my absolutely biggest blast in a long time I felt the head rasp against the womb opening and slip free. She groaned a little still mainly limp buit the motions of her lower body continued to carry out the motions of fucking the cock still, embedded deep inside her cunt. My cock gradually shrank further and plopped free from her body, I felt a splash of cum and her juices against my legs and the coolness of the room against my cock now fully outside her. I rolled her over on her back and looked at the cunt now exposed before my eyes. The lips were puffy and red, her clitoris had shrunk back and there was still a small trickle of juices and cum from the cunt hole where I had been just seconds before. I glanced at the face and she was still out of it, I padded to the bathroom and had a quick piss. Returning to the room and slide into the bed alongside her. I slept holding a swelling breast and allowing my cock to lie against her leg. I awoke several hours later to find her sleeping and holding a now re stiffened cock. Rolling over I straddled her body and slide down, inserting my cock slowly into her cunt, feeling cum and her juices assisting me to enter the tight hole. Sliding slowly at first I gradually build up my motions and gripping her shoulders was able to fuck her deeply, She opened her eyes and watched my face as she trembled and shuddered to my thrusts, I felt her legs encircle my back as she began to fuck me back. With the two previous surges depleting me somewhat this one took a lot longer to rise through my cock. When it did she was deep in her third orgasm also and the surge of hot cum deep into her cunt and with the head against her womb again she shuddered her was through the orgasm as I shuddered and filled her. I rolled off and without thought slept again. I awoke several hours later as she was dressing alongside the bed. She kissed me gently and thanked me for filling all her needs and fantasies'. I struggled to understand, and she explained that one of the mutual friends we had from before my lady and I got together had explained about my cock head and its way of jamming into the cervix as if filled the womb up with cum. She now knew that the story was true and wished that she had met me before I met my lady. She said that my lady was lucky, but that we could never do it again. Another quick kiss and she left. As a result of some gentle inquiries at a family reunion some months later my lady and I learnt that her sister had left the country and had not left and addresses. Alas some three weeks later she was killed in a plane crash of a tourist airliner in China. But I never forgot our only time together, and I know my son really enjoyed the three days he spent totally fucking his aunt. The Teaser A relatively short stroker in this one. Jon sees an attractive woman in the supermarket, he follows her. Marion is there to tease, to show off to men. I've tried a couple of experiments in this piece. There's a shift in point-of-view – third- to first-person – between chapters. I'd be interested to see if there are any comments about it. Does it work or not, etc? Anyway, I'll shut up and let you get on. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading. GA – Burford, Oxfordshire – 13th of September 2014. One There was no mistake, he was definitely following her. Marion smirked and feigned interest in tinned soup while the pulse in her clit quickened. Just to make sure, she took another circuitous route around the big store. There was neither rhyme nor reason for the meandering circuit She sauntered from aisle to aisle, doubling back twice, pausing here and there to check a label or drop an item into the wire mesh basket. And he was always there, sometimes behind her, sometimes in front. He was quite good at it, Marion thought to herself. Not too obvious. If she hadn't been looking out for just such an occurrence, he might have gone unnoticed. Marion quite liked the look of him. She had him pegged at early twenties, which was far too young for her to entertain any serious notion of seduction, but she appreciated his attention. After all, attention was the primary reason for her visit to the vast shopping complex. She wasn't wandering the aisles of the supermarket with any intent of actually purchasing groceries, catching men's hungry stares, seeing the desire on their faces as they passed, a covetous glance or three from some poor bugger shackled to the wife was what she was after. She was a teaser, enjoyed the thrill of flaunting her body and getting a response. Not that she went out all mutton dressed as lamb; Marion was aware of her years and dressed in a manner that she thought appropriate. It didn't have to be blatant – all high hems and tits on show. No fake tan and lashings of make-up for her. No, Marion had class, good taste, exhibited a bit of style. She kept her hair coloured a slightly lighter shade than her natural mousy-brown, nothing too startling, simply a touch of the sun-kissed, lightly streaked tresses she wore tied up in a casual mess – she was just a lady out shopping for food, a busy girl dressed down for the chore in denim jeans and grey crop top with bootlace straps. Marion went for a less-is-more approach on the make-up, too. There was no getting away from the fact she was closer to fifty than forty, and she could accept a little evidence she might be getting on a bit – but she didn't trowel on the slap, just opted for a carefully crafted look. When it came to dressing she emphasised what she saw as her positive points. Succeeding by packing her derriere into tight jeans, the size of her big round tits emphasised in a grey top moulded to her bosom. Attired thus, she seemed to be the target for most male eyes, the black high heels completing the ensemble. Marion sauntered, confident she looked good, pleased with her self-discipline in the gym, glad the abstinence had paid off. Just for the hell of it, Marion turned suddenly. Her cute little stalker friend was a few feet behind her. She saw the surprise register in the widening of his eyes before his gaze flicked away, his cheeks reddening. Feeling mischievous, the tingle between her legs turning to a flood of heat, nipples throbbing, Marion beamed a bright smile into the young man's face. She paused, letting him get a good look at her breasts, the teats prominent courtesy of a quarter-bra beneath the clinging top. "Hello," she breathed, and then moved on, limbs trembling at being so daring. Shocked at her own boldness, hugely embarrassed, Marion hurried to the end of the aisle. She quickly made her way to the section of the store laid out for women's clothing. It wasn't a place she'd normally be found – the clothes just weren't her style – but suddenly mortified at breaking her own rule about never letting on she knew they were looking, she needed a place to hide. It took a few minutes of mindless browsing before Marion settled. She fingered garments with no idea of what she was really doing, not even registering colour, size, or texture of the clothes she handled. Eventually, she calmed, cheeks ballooning, her light fringe lifted by the updraught when Marion exhaled through pursed lips. She composed herself, checking her hair in a nearby mirror, adjusting the fit of her top before, with a surreptitious peep along the aisle immediately to her front Marin stepped out into the public eye. He was nowhere to be seen, and Marion couldn't decide if she was relieved or disappointed. He'd been cute, easy on the eye. She went back to it, strolled the aisles of the supermarket for a few minutes more, part of her hoping to see the boy again. When there was no sign of him she made a circuit of the mall, drifting in and out of various outlets, attracting a few looks. But, Marion decided, miffed at the dip in her mood, it wasn't quite right, she'd lost the sparkle. Her libido had cooled, set into hibernate mode. "Well, fuck," Marion cursed, muttering to herself, her disappointment turning her mouth into a fixed and thin-lipped horizontal line. She shook her head and sighed, considering a desultory drive home and a bottle of wine in front of the telly. Outside it was a glorious day, a late afternoon made for pub beer gardens or a picnic by a river. Marion slipped her sunglasses down from her hair, the great lenses covering most of her face. Her confident strut across the pedestrian crossing, boobs leading, earned her a wide grin from a man in a white Transit van who stopped to let her cross. Marion's mood lifted when she saw the cheeky smirk from the driver. She altered her gait so her breasts jiggled, throwing a sideways glance at the van, her body responding to the man's obvious interest. She hummed to herself, Beautiful Day, U2, with the van driver's stare heavy on her swaying bottom as she left the crossing. A bottle of wine and a session with her dildo, Marion thought, sexual urges rekindled. She could get a light buzz on from the alcohol before a teasing her clit with the heavier, more robust buzz of her BOB. The battery-operated-boyfriend on her tight clitoris and a thick rubber cock in her pussy was how Marion saw it. She would build up a fantasy, taking her time, maybe even including the dark-haired young man she'd seen in the shops. Her pace quickened as she approached the big silver Land Cruiser. Marion was so preoccupied with the fantasy already forming, eager to get home, get naked and a little tipsy so she could indulge in an evening of naughty thoughts that she didn't see the man until he was at her side. Two I couldn't help it. The attraction was instant, a fist grabbing my insides, a tug of desire that had my nerves singing. She was just so sexy, so hot: hair held up in a casual nest, the length of her legs exaggerated because of the heels, shapely bottom and spectacular boobs, every curve an appeal to the senses. She had it all going on. I saw confidence, a mature lady with an abundance of spirit. She was no spring chicken but, in my opinion, was still way ahead of some of the vapid, plastic Barbies strutting around the streets. The lady had personality, not just an excess of arrogance I recognised in some of the cunty-faced trollops of my own age. I didn't mean to be pervy, but I couldn't stop myself from keeping her in sight. I followed her around the supermarket for twenty minutes, shopping forgotten. It occurred to me that I should just go up to her. I could make an honest, up-front approach. Sneaking around letching at her, a hard-on in my shorts as a constant companion wasn't going to achieve anything. What was the worst that could happen? She could laugh and point and tell me to go away. It might be humiliating, but I was that far gone I was willing to give it a try. But, whenever I buoyed myself up to actually do it, my nerve would fail. I'm not the most outgoing of personalities, and to walk up to a stunner like her went against the grain. I'm more a slow lead-in type, not your flash jack-the-lad with all the patter. In the middle of an internal dialogue, as I revved myself up to make the move, she turned. The heat rose in my face when she smiled and purred out that husky-voiced "hello". I couldn't help but gawp at the cherry stones of her nipples so clearly outlined against the grey strappy top she had on. Then, when I realised she must know I was ogling her tits, my cheeks burned hotter. After that, probably because I'd offended her with my blatant stare, she was gone, scurrying away, her own face scarlet. I wondered at the colour that had suddenly suffused her cheeks, imagining she must be mightily pissed off. Despite what had seemed to be warmth in her smile when she'd turned, my mind filled with scenarios of security guards and accusations, questions as to what exactly it was I was doing in the shop, CCTV footage showing me tracking her. With all that going through my head, I made my exit, heading to the Starbucks. She came past fifteen minutes later. There I was, sitting right up close to the window when she strode past. She didn't see me, I was certain the woman hadn't noticed my presence. The lure was powerful, a strong yank at my vitals. I was up and out and following behind her, my eyes fixed on that rump swaying side-to-side. I kept a good distance from her, loitering around outside stores when she went in to browse, picking her up again as and when she reappeared. From my position behind her, I could plainly see men turning to watch her go by. Jealousy curdled my guts when I saw it happen. I wanted her all to myself. I wondered what it would be like to have that woman stripping down for me. God, to see those big boobs all bare... Wouldn't that just be the ultimate? Did she shave her muff? She looked the type. A lady who kept herself in such good nick was bound to take care of the detail. I was away, dreaming about her, picturing her vulva completely depilated. The image shifted to the lady preferring a precise strip of sculpted fluff between her legs – or perhaps something like a love heart instead? In my head I saw her grinning as she eased her knickers down, assuming she had any on of course. There was no VPL apparent in the tight fit of her jeans. The thought of her lush body slowly revealed made me worse. I was going to go crazy over it if I didn't watch out. When she left the mall, the bright sunshine hitting her, I felt a slide of bitter disappointment. She was leaving. It was over. The chances were I'd never see her again. She might be local, I might come across her in the shops again someday, but she could equally be a visitor to the town, a passing dream. Suddenly it was imperative that I didn't let her go without making some approach. She was across the road to the car park before I knew it, with some gormless wanker in a white Tranny braking to ogle her as she went. He didn't extend the same courtesy to me, just rudely – and illegally – shunted the heap of shit van forward over the zebra stripes, blocking my path for a few seconds. When the tosser had moved on, I hurried across the road, keeping the woman's hair in sight as she wove a path through the car park. She rummaged in the voluminous shoulder bag she carried on a long strap over her shoulder, pulling out the keys to a massive four-by-four. The locks had just thunked open when I made a move. Three His approach, the abrupt realisation a man was close and getting closer brought a yelp of surprise from Marion. She cried out and dropped the keys, the heavy bunch hitting the tarmac, a gasp coming from Marion's chest. "Shit," she yipped, eyes wide with fright. It was a kidnap. He was going to force her into her own vehicle, probably knock her out with a handkerchief soaked in some narcotic chemical. They would find her, used and abused, maybe alive, perhaps not. There were stories about it on the news. Always other people, she never thought it could happen to her. Marion blinked, mouth open, stunned into immobility. "Oh, God," she groaned. Then she saw the look on the boy's face. It was him, the young one she'd smiled at, and it seemed to Marion, in the midst of her surprise, he was as startled by her reaction as she was to his unexpected presence. She went a long way to calming. It was obviously no attempt to molest her, not judging by the expression he displayed. "I'm sorry," the young man said, eyes wide, throat working as he backed away, a hand in front of him as though to ward off an attack. "I ... I didn't mean to scare you. I ... uh ... I..." Relieved anger flared inside Marion. "You bloody idiot," she blurted. "I got such a fright. What's the idea of coming up to me like that?" Rounding on the boy she glared at him, fists on her hips, frowning with indignant ire. "Oh, I'm sorry," he stammered. He bent to retrieve her keys, stepping forward to offer them to Marion, keeping a good arm's length between them as he did so. "I saw you in the supermarket and..." he began, the words tapering off. Marion saw his discomfit. She watched the blush spread through his face, his eyes going everywhere, except to her that is. Marion thawed slightly, affected by his obvious chagrin. "I know," she said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "I saw you looking." A thrill of arousal shivered through Marion when she noticed his eyes flick to her breasts, his stare lingering for a few seconds. "Did you like what you saw," Marion added, the heat flooding her vulva. Surprised by the words, which had just slipped out, Marion watched the young man and studied his reaction. He blushed hotter, throat working as his tongue slid over his lips. "Oh," he replied, blinking. Then, after a look at Marion's face he instantly turned his attention elsewhere, the serried ranks of automobiles apparently very interesting. While her body thrummed, emboldened by a surge of recklessness, Marion thought she might have a little fun at the young man's expense. She would teach him a lesson for stalking her through the shops. "How come you were following me?" she asked, cocking her weight onto one hip, head canted sideways. Marion stared through the dark lenses, loving his squirming anguish. His reply, the heartfelt response, intense yearning apparent in the tone of his voice, shocked Marion. "I saw you and thought..." he stammered. His throat worked again as he swallowed heavily. Trying again, the young man continued with, "I thought you were just so ... so gorgeous." He sucked in a breath, eyes wide, with his mouth hanging slack for a moment or two. "I mean, just look at you." Marion felt a shiver of deep arousal when he gestured at her with one hand, his eyes raking her from toe to crown, his attention lingering, yet again, on her breasts before he paused again. The boy stared, his attention focussed on the lenses of Marion's sunglasses. "I think you're so sexy," he was saying as Marion tried to ignore her clamouring pussy. "I couldn't let you leave without telling you." Marion's heart hammered, her own throat felt as though a bird's nest was lodged there. Her body hummed, her nipples felt huge while her pussy clenched. If she got any more turned on she could just imagine the aroused teats shredding twin holes in the fabric of her grey top. She could feel the flood of desire siping from her opening. "I'm sorry if I've offended you," the man said, his voice breaking through to Marion's consciousness. "I didn't mean to." Then he shrugged and offered a mute appeal for understanding with his green eyes. He ran a hand over his close-cropped dark hair. "I just liked you as soon as I saw you," he finished. Marion let the keys dangle from her index finger as she studied him. She pushed her sunglasses up into her hair, squinting at him as she croaked, "What was it you liked so much?" The flick of his eyelids told Marion exactly what the attraction was. She smirked and uncrossed her arms when his attention returned to her face. "My tits, was it?" she asked, chuckling. "I don't mind," added Marion when he turned beet red once more. "I wear these kinds of tops on purpose." Marion hefted her breasts in both palms, relishing the drop of the man's jaw as he boggled at her. Encouraged by the effect she was having, the teasing making her more and more horny as time passed, Marion continued with, "I wear a quarter bra especially to show them off." Then she paused, not quite believing the boldness of what she was considering. "You want to see?" A sound came out of him, some inarticulate whine while he stood there, gape-mouthed as a stunned fish. "Oh, fuck," Marion heard him gasp, the air against her bare nipples crinkling the coins of her areolae. The expletive and the sigh on which it was delivered sent another shiver through Marion. It was a first for her. Never before had she been so brazen. Strutting around and turning the men on was one thing, flashing her tits to a complete stranger was another game entirely. But she was having fun. Marion enjoyed it, seeing the boy gulp and stare, his desire so obvious as his Adam's apple bobbed. Then, when she happened to glance down she noticed the ridge in his shorts. Oh, God, he's hard! Marion covered herself, close to panic at the physical reaction she'd witnessed. What if he lunged at her? What if the sight of her bare breasts provoked him to action? The man gulped and cast a wary eye around as though checking if there were any casual observers. "Wow," he muttered, eyes rolling. Then, grinning and nodding, he complimented the woman, thanking her for offering him the privilege. His response calmed Marion's sudden fears. He really was quite the gentleman. Okay, the circumstances were quite bizarre, but he'd demonstrated remarkable restraint. Marion imagined the urge to leap at her and maul her breasts might be quite compelling, yet he'd held himself in check, despite being so visibly aroused. The invitation came from her before she even knew what she was about to say. Marion heard the words, recognised her own voice, yet couldn't actually credit them as belonging to her. When the offer was out there he nodded and, wide-eyed, after his tongue slid over his lips, breathed, "Are you sure?" Next thing she knew, the air was cool against her bare skin again, with Marion lifting her top, her breasts exposed once more. "Go on then," she muttered. "Touch them." Four They were heavy and firm, yielding slightly to the pressure of my fingers. I weighed them with both hands, unable to resist teasing those thimble nipples with my thumbs. She closed her eyes and sighed and actually thrust her chest forward, at which it all burst inside me and I leaned in and sucked one thick, elongated teat between my lips. "Oh," she cried. "You shouldn't be doing that," but made no move to pull away. There was no effort at pushing my face from her flesh so I moved to the other nipple, squeezing breast flesh as I licked the darker circumference surrounding it. "You naughty boy," the woman breathed. "I didn't say you could do that." There I was, not quite believing just what was going on, lust spurring me on, reckless with longing when I heard the woman call out in alarm. The next I knew she was muttering on, pulling back, with those big boobs hastily covered. I had to admit, the quarter-bra thing is a great invention. It supported her tits but left most of them exposed, the line of her clothing, as she'd said, pleasing to the eye. To all intents and purposes she was naked under the flimsy top. The only clue she had a bra on at all being the black straps over her shoulders. The Teaser When I heard her gasp and felt her pull away, I looked up, the source of her anxiety apparent immediately. A couple and a shopping trolley approached, their destination, it seemed, being the car immediately next to us. "Shit," the woman spat. Then she surprised me by saying, "Get in, the car's unlocked." And that's how I found myself on the back roads around the town, with Marion driving, both of us looking for a clandestine place to park. Thoughts tumbled in my head. The scale of my response to the scene ranged from absolute astonishment to wild euphoria. I kept looking at Marion, unable to reconcile myself to our mission. I wondered just how far it would go. She handled the big motor well. Changing up and down the gears, eyes fixed on the road while I indulged myself, feasting my eyes on her breasts, the memory of their contours fixed in my mind's eye. After ten minutes of slowing for a potential spot, accelerating past when Marion discounted its suitability, she turned into a lane bordered by trees. Marion negotiated the avenue, the track deteriorating. We went through a series of turns, four-wheel-drive engaged, both of us rocking and bouncing until we finally came to a halt, a narrow track into the undergrowth off to one side. Marion had to remove her shoes. I thought it was a suicidal move to drive in those heels, but she seemed used to it, the footpath, however, just wasn't conducive to such precipitous footwear. Despite the warmth of the weather in recent days, the shade kept the soil like mulch. "I would take you home," Marion had said shortly after we'd fled the car park. I saw her glance at me and smile in apology. "You seem like a nice man but I'm a bit wary about letting you know where I live." It seemed a fair comment, and I wasn't about to say anything to piss her off and give her reason to kick me out of the Land Cruiser. I'd take what I could get, keeping it to myself that she could have always driven to my place. I lived alone, we wouldn't be disturbed. The shoes came off and Marion all but dragged me along in her wake, holding my hand, apparently extremely keen to further our physical relationship. "This will do," she said, eyes casting round a tiny glade. I had to agree. We were surrounded by trees and there seemed to be little chance of anyone stumbling upon us. A few seconds later saw Marion easing her top up to reveal her breasts, her fingers then going to the button on her jeans. "Do you have any condoms?" she asked, the question a near physical blow to the solar plexus. "No," I replied, mentally kicking myself for the lack. I'd come so close... Marion stared at me, fingers at the waist of her jeans. "Shit," she spat, and then shrugged. "No fucking, then." I decided I could live with it when, to my delight, she wriggled a bit and pushed her jeans over her hips. Then, as I pushed my shorts to my knees, my intent being to get naked as soon as possible, I heard Marion gasp and chuckle. "Oh, fuck," she breathed, chortling. "You're quite a big boy, aren't you?" And then she was on me, her fist jacking my cock, her tongue in my mouth. Five The decision came on her as a spur of the moment thing. They were in the car, she'd already gone much further than ever before, and he was cute. Marion felt particularly drawn to his shy demeanour. He wasn't out to grab what he could; she decided he wasn't a chancer. She got a nice feeling off him, and, of course, there were the other feelings: the tingling between her legs, the lingering impression of his fingers on her breasts, his tongue and lips at her nipples. "Let's go somewhere," Marion had gasped, gunning the big motor across the three-lane roundabout. "Somewhere we can be alone. "I would take you home," she said, "you seem like a nice man but I'm a bit wary about letting you know where I live." She had an idea about one or two possible sites, with one panning out, her body alive with the daring actions her mind contemplated. Marion glanced at him and introduced herself. "What's your name?" she added. "Jonathon," he replied. "Or just Jon if you like." "Nice to meet you, Jon," Marion said, smirking. He grinned back. "You, too, Marion." Nice teeth and a cute smile, Marion thought, turning her attention back to the road where it belonged. After parking the Cruiser she removed her shoes, a whirl of impressions inside her head, her stomach churning with anxiety and delicious anticipation. She led the man along the almost non-existent path, hoping to chance upon the ideal location. To Marion's delight, they found it, a private dell, a place for fairy spells and lovers. She was enchanted by the place, her mood ebullient. There she was, a cute young man in tow, pussy oiling, libido snarling with hunger. Then it dawned and she asked the question. In the little clearing, bare-breasted, her hands on her jeans, Marion felt the slam of disappointment. They had no protection between them. There were condoms at home, tucked into the drawer of the little unit next to her bed. But, since she had only been going out for a tease she hadn't foreseen the need carry any for prophylactic purposes. "Shit," she spat. "No fucking, then." But Marion was too far gone to hold off completely. There were still things they could do. He could use his fingers and tongue on her, she could wank his dick. So her jeans went down and, to her delight, when Jon yanked down his shorts she saw he was quite a hefty piece of work. Marion chuckled and complimented him on his size before, unable to resist, with her jeans at her knees, she lunged and grabbed him, fist working that length, the weight of him solid in her hand. They kissed, with Marion gasping and moaning, Jon's hands mauling her big breasts. Jon groaned and grunted, "Ah, fuck, Marion ... I'm gonna explode if you keep doing that." "Not yet," the woman replied, letting go of the cock. She stepped back, her gaze moving up from the impressive jut to the boy's face. The hunger she saw in his reciprocal stare sent another surge through her. "Wank it," Marion snarled, hauling her jeans down her shins. "Let me watch." She snorted a curse, kicking at her clothing in frustration, unable to free her foot. "I want to watch you. I'll play with myself, too, Jon." When she was free of her jeans Marion pulled the grey top over her head. Reaching back with a mischievous smirk she unclipped the bra, dropping it to the grass. The outdoor setting thrilled her. She was naked in the woods, alive, body tingling, every sense on overdrive. His words came to her thick and clotted in a mumble of absolute yearning. "God, Marion, you're ... you're gorgeous." "Get those shorts off," Marion instructed as she stepped back another pace. Her gaze lingered on Jon's cock, her expression wistful while holding her bottom lip with her teeth. "God, Jon," she breathed, shaking her head in admiration. "That's a lovely cock." The woman slid one hand between her legs, splitting her labia, the tip of the middle finger diddling her clit. "Hurry," she urged. "Let's see you nude." Marion's eyes rolled as she grimaced, pleasure creasing her features. "I'm so fucking horny," she mumbled. As if unable to truly believe what his senses were signalling to his brain, Jon closed his eyes, breath hissing between clenched teeth. When he opened them again he swallowed heavily, a fist jacking his length, stare locked on Marion slipping two fingers into her opening. "Get those fucking clothes off!" Marion snarled, nose wrinkled, teeth bared, eyes flashing fire. "Then," she added, "I want you to lick me." "I'll lick you, all right," Jon spat back. He yanked the shorts down, tee-shirt coming off quickly. "Come here," he commanded, tone brusque. "Why?" she replied, still rubbing. "So's I can kiss you and touch your tits." Jon advanced and did exactly that, mauling Marion's breasts while forcing his tongue into her mouth. It went on for several moments before Marion took hold of Jon once again. She cranked at him, one hand on Jon's dick, the other working her own pleasure, middle and third digits wedged knuckle-deep in her pussy. "We should have gone to my place," the woman gasped after pulling her mouth clear, her eyes glazed. "Are you married?" Jon asked, the thought occurring rather belatedly. Marion's head shook side-to-side in emphatic denial. "No. Divorced. And before you ask, there's nobody. I value my independence too much." Then, releasing Jon, her urgent fingering of her pussy ceasing, Marion asked, "What about you?" She saw the headshake, Jon's vehement response. "Nobody," he gasped, wide-eyed. "No wife, no girlfriend. I did have a girl, but she dumped me for my mate," he added. Marion absorbed the information, her gaze steady, eyes locked on Jon's face. Her head tilted. "True?" she asked. His expression was sincere when he said, "Honest, Marion." Marion studied the young man again, thirty seconds slipping by. Jon held her gaze as though challenging her to disbelieve his assertion. "Well," Marion smirked, winking. "In that case..." "Where are you going?" Jon asked when she turned away. Marion threw a glance over one shoulder. "Somewhere I can lie down. Come on." She waved an arm to indicate Jon should follow. "I want that tongue of your on my pussy. Give me an orgasm and I'll wank you off." Jon gaped at the woman until she urged him to get a move on. Then he grinned and went after her with enthusiasm. Six I felt a bit of an arse being naked but still wearing my trainers. However, the self-consciousness soon left me when I knelt and got a good, close eyeful of Marion's pussy. She was smooth. All lovely and bare, the crinkled folds splayed, her cunt pink and glistening. I settled onto my knees and leaned in, lowering myself down until I was full-length against the grass, my cock wedged in against my stomach and the ground. Marion leaned up on her elbows, eyes on me as she looked along the front of her body. I saw her stomach muscles tense in the moment before I dabbed the tip of my tongue at her, the thought in my mind at that time being she really was in good nick and incredibly well put together. "Fuck, yes," Marion gasped when I touched her for the first time, my tongue lapping the taut and shiny nub of her clit. "Oh, Jesus, Jon..." Marion's climax became my mission, the sole focus of my universe, with everything else fading away – parents, school, work, the faithless Cassandra binning me for someone I'd known since I was a boy. All that concerned me at that time was to give Marion her pleasure. I was going to make her come. I worked at her, refining my technique, learning what she favoured by paying attention to the gasps and moans and murmurs. Marion offered guidance, shifting her backside and tilting her pelvis to give me the best approach, muttering to me to lick in circles or up and down, mewling at me to dab at her clit or to lap at her opening. At one point she urged me to probe at her with two fingers, squealed for me to curl the digits inside her. Then she had me fucking those two fingers into her while she held my mouth tight to hers, a hand at the back of my head, her insistent tongue writhing with mine. That kiss was more a case of Marion devouring me than any real involvement on my part. She gasped into my mouth and bucked against my hand, whining for me to use my thumb on her clitoris, the fingers deep inside her. Finally, eventually, and I'm surprised nobody came to investigate what sounded like murder in that clearing, Marion got there, squealing she was coming, bestial grunts following the announcement. Her bottom came up as she ground against my hand. She became a thrashing mentalist, sobbing and writhing, fingers clawing at the ground while obscenities bubbled out of her. She hissed at me through a portcullis of clenched teeth, face twisted in a rictus of apparent hate, her expression merely a physical manifestation extreme pleasure rather than any proper ill-feeling. "Oh, God ... Oh, fuck..." Marion gasped. "God, I fucking needed that." Next, still gasping, her eyes wide, mouth open, she levered herself up onto her knees. Marion kissed me, so much emotion going into it as she grabbed for my cock. I felt the loose grass and dirt granules clinging to her skin when I squeezed Marion's buttocks. I had the same on my front, patches of compressed muck clinging to my chest and knees and elbows. Marion moaned at me while jacking at my cock, the tingle through the core of me getting more intense with each brisk stroke. She had me close, breathing into my ear that she wanted to fuck, that she wanted to feel me inside her. I croaked out a plea, a thick-throated entreaty to be allowed to put it in. "I want you to," Marion murmured. She kissed me with renewed fervour, passion apparent in the vehemence of it. "Go on," the woman growled, releasing me so she could move around and offer herself, her weight on her hands and knees. "I don't care. Just put that thing in me. Fuck me, Jon." It was an ambitious endeavour from the start. I was, naturally, given the circumstances, in a state of high agitation. Marion offered herself to me, just craned round to look, fingers against her flesh, her pussy and the smudge of her sphincter exposed. From my position behind her, while I pulled at my cock and boggled, I could see the smooth line of one breast in profile. Her eyes regarded me, a glint of mischief shining there, one corner of her mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. Everything hit me at once: Marion's maturity in years compared to me; her superb body; those big tits, shapely legs and the shine of arousal at her core. In my head I recalled the slick slide of desire against my tongue when I licked Marion's intimate places. I heard her gasps and moans and guttural grunts. It was the recollection of her all packed into denim, nipples prominent as she strolled the aisles in the supermarket that took me there. In my mind's eye I saw Marion as she had been, when her body had still been unknown. Then I looked down at her so lewdly displayed and pumped semen all over her back and buttocks. Seven The stuff spattered against her, jizm arcing in a heavy outpouring, dollops of it raining down. Marion yelped and attempted to roll clear, more spurts landing on the ground, her body already smeared with it. She should have known it was going to happen. The outcome was inevitable, really. Frustration twisted inside her: she had been so ready for it. Regardless of neither possessing a condom, Marion had decided to go for it. Bareback sex turned her on. Despite the risk of some hideous infection – which was minimal, she was certain – Marion eagerly anticipated the feel of him filling her. It had been so long since she'd had a man between her legs. It was time to put her former husband out of her mind and have some fun. A young lover might be just the tonic. But there she was with her pussy growling, ravenous for fresh meat, and the only available source seemed to be spitting its essence against the earth. She reached back with one hand, her fingers coming up smeared with goo. Marion cursed when she saw Jon's ejaculate on her fingers. Then it occurred to her he might still be able to give her what she so desperately craved. How old was he? Jon couldn't be more than twenty-two – he'd surely be able to manage two on the bounce? "Ah, fuck," Jon grunted, then went wide-eyed when Marion spun to face him. "What...?" he managed before finding himself on his back. "Keep it hard," Marion snarled, a leg going over the man sprawled on the grass. She hovered over him, squatting at first, taking hold of his cock before kneeling astride Jon's thighs. "I'm going to ride this fucker," she blurted, desire making her crude. "I can't wait to feel you inside me, Jon. "Jesus, I need to fuck..." She moved forward on her knees, mindless to the dirt. Marion cranked Jon's length, his cock oozing semen. To her delight the thing remained solid, no looseness apparent while she positioned herself over the bulging dome, easing down until the cum-smeared head slipped into her opening. "Ah, Christ," Marion blasphemed with a groan. She leaned forward so her hands were planted either side of Jon's head. "That's it, baby," the woman crooned when Jon's fingers went to her breasts. "Suck my tits." Marion went lower, offering a nipple to Jon's lips, her hips moving. She moaned, her insides filled with the man while her grinding pelvis caused the friction she needed on her clit. Jon's root rubbed her perfectly, every slide a delight, pleasure bursting through her. "Feels good," Marion breathed as she moved in to kiss her lover's mouth. "I needed this, Jon. I've missed fucking." "Thank you," Jon mumbled in response, his hands on Marion's buttocks. He held her and thrust up, hard. "I've missed doing this, too. I haven't wanted to since Cassandra, my ex, chucked me over." He winced and sucked in a breath, eyes rolling. "Shit, Marion," Jon gurgled, the tip of his index finger probing the roundel of the woman's sphincter. "I would have laughed if someone had told me we'd be doing this together. In the supermarket," he added, gulping mid-sentence. "If someone had told me you'd be so ... so..." "Slutty?" Marion finished for him, grinning into Jon's twisted countenance. "No," Jon blurted, "not slutty, Marion. You're fantastic. You're gorgeous." His fingers squeezed taut buttocks. Jon splayed Marion's cheeks and pressed up into her again. "Do that again," the woman croaked, wall-eyed as she levered upright, bouncing up and down, her breasts swaying. "Tell me all that stuff, Jon. It makes me feel good to hear it." Marion moaned and gasped and then gazed down into Jon's eyes. "Go on," she urged, "tell me about how gorgeous you think I am. I want to hear more." Jon licked his lips and winced while Marion squeezed him with her insides, her hips rocking back and forth, her fingers at her clit. "You're everything, Marion," he moaned before a sob burst out of him. Jon's hands moved over Marion's skin. The texture of her brought a moan from the young man. "You've got it all going on," he breathed. "I thought so when I first saw you." When Marion began to slide up and down, her buttocks slapping rhythmically against his thighs, Jon gasped and gulped, blinking rapidly in response. "...You're brilliant, Marion," he mewled. "Everything: your tits, your pussy ... Ah, fuck ... I think I'm gonna come again..." Marion's response was swift. "Don't you fucking dare," she hissed. Her pelvis moved with greater urgency, the rhythmic slap-slap-slap of skin on skin moved up a gear. "Not until I've come," Marion whined. "Please, Jon, try to hold it back. Let me come before you get there. Please..." The woman's fingers moved around her sodden vulva. She tickled her clit, goading herself towards orgasm, the need a flare of urgency. Beneath her, with Marion's thighs straddling him, Jon thrust up with determined effort. His hands moved over her skin, fingers moving from buttock to breast, caressing the sweeping curves of Marion's body. Jon groaned about Marion's loveliness. She rode him, concentration creasing her face while Jon babbled on. The boy's sincerity and the apparent awe in which he held their coupling thrilled Marion. "Oh, God, Jon," Marion groaned, leaning forward, boobs swinging. She gasped, "I'm going to..." Then her mouth closed on her lover's lips while her pelvis corkscrewed, with Marion's mons grinding against Jon's pubic bone. Marion sobbed her delight into his mouth, Jon's arm curling around her so he could hold Marion tight. Next, while the climax swelled inside Marion like milk boiling on a hot stove, Jon heaved and rolled the moaning, wall-eyed woman onto her back. The Teaser Marion clung to Jon, holding his cock inside her during the risky move. "Fuck me through it," she urged him, squirming. Marion moved up to meet the downstroke while she mauled at one breast, pinching a nipple between forefinger and thumb, her hot-eyed glare fixed on Jon's face. She rubbed at herself, the climax rolling on and on, snarling at Jon to use her. "Punish that pussy," Marion grunted, the last coherent sentence to come out of her before the juddering paroxysm struck. It hit hard, with every tendon straining, muscles taut while her body squelched around the piston of male gristle. Jon stared down, intimidated by the sheer physicality of Marion's climax. She writhed and groaned, fingers clawing at the ground, her nails sometimes raking his flesh. One moment Marion's eyes were open, glittering jewels of apparent hatred, her look of spite really conveying intense delight while the next second saw the lids squeezed tight, mouth gaping, bestial grunts bursting forth. With that going on, Jon got to the edge. He moved hard and deep, probing at Marion, his own face going slack when he squirted all he had left into her. It took some time for them to recover, with both of them lying sprawled, gasping like spent wrestlers, expressions as shocked as soldiers' in the aftermath of battle. Marion and Jon looked at each other, both apparently wondering what had just happened, like it was the last thing in the world they both expected. "Shit," Jon breathed on a long exhalation. Beside him, Marion nodded, a forearm covering her eyes. "God yes," she gasped, the arm dropping away. She turned her head to regard the man. "That was..." She gulped and blinked. "Jesus," Marion finished, unable to articulate her thoughts and feelings. Everything was still a jumble. Slowly, with Jon moving first, they rose to their feet, legs shaky. Patches of dirt and bits of grass were swept from bare skin. Marion's hand came away smeared with semen, Jon's diminished second climax seeping from her. "Can I see you again?" Jon asked, not looking at Marion, the wobble in his voice an indication of his concern at rejection. Marion looked at him, bra in her hand. She paused in the gathering up of scattered clothing. Following a lengthening silence, she moved to Jon, her stare fixed on his anxious visage. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't," Marion murmured. Eight It's a Friday night. I'm outside the White Lion pub. I've been sitting in the Land Cruiser for ten minutes, which is how long we said I'd wait. I haven't been inside the pub since Cassandra. It's where I used to go every Friday and Saturday. It's where they'll be. There's a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's dense, like a cannonball sitting there, a mass of anxiety and excitement, something fissile. I force the fear aside – after all, what do I have to be afraid of? Nothing. When I pull the door open and step inside and see a few regulars, faces like spoons as they shift around to look, their focus going from me to Gary to Cassandra and back to me. Marion is at the bar a few feet from the pair of them. She, inevitably, has a knot of admirers vying for her attention. I look at her and the amazement comes again. I still can't quite believe, three weeks after the interlude in the glade, that I'm actually a regular presence in her bed. I'm under no illusions this is a permanent deal. The affair will run its course, and I'm prepared for that. But, for now, looking at her holding forth, sipping gently from a tall glass – gin and tonic is my guess – those slobbering men surrounding her, well, I'm feeling pretty smug. Marion's wearing a sweater. It's tight, moulded to her torso to show off every contour. Nobody can miss her breasts, which is why she's such a hit. I can see the outline of her nipples, those prominent points dangerous enough to have someone's eye out. Marion is looking delicious, absolutely jaw-dropping. Her hair and make-up are immaculate. She has a triple-strand of pearls around her neck, the drop of which draws the eyes to her bosom, the necklace dangling there between the twin protuberances. She's in heels, naturally, her skirt, which is tight at her waist, falls to her ankles. Marion is covered, feet to neck, yet still manages to exude a potent sexual allure. She's a magnet for randy blokes with a roving eye. There's a shift in atmosphere when I walk in. It's just a subtle drop in the murmur of conversation, a few folk shifting in their seats to take a look. Cassandra catches it, her eyes finding me. Gary, typically, is a few seconds behind. It's a puerile little plan, petty in the extreme, but I decide I'm going to enjoy it. I wander up to the bar and order a pint. I'm served immediately, with Jenny the Friday night barmaid agog at the potential for drama. I think there are a few of them in there that imagine it's going to kick off. Nodding to a few of the faces I pay for the drink and sip the head off it. Then, as though noticing her for the first time, I smile at Marion. We play the game for twenty minutes as the pub slowly, perhaps a little disappointed with the anti-climax, settles down once more. I pick up a conversation with a couple of the boys. They make noises about me not having been around. We shift on to football and work, all of us hugely aware of the elephant in the room. Gary and Cassandra, with him no doubt led by her example, ignore me. Marion talks and laughs and generally entertains the knot of goggle-eyed Romeos, flirting but not leading them on too much. She deftly declines offers of drinks, easily batting away more inappropriate suggestions with an easy smile and a laugh. Then, in her own time, she excuses herself and comes to me. To all intents and purposes it's a casual pick-up. Marion buys me a pint, inveigles herself into the group, separates me from the herd and then offers to take me home. Yeah, childish and so obvious, and perhaps a few of them will figure it out. But the looks on their faces when I left the pub with Marion, our intent obvious...