10 comments/ 56103 views/ 23 favorites My Lana By: Tantala Part 1 I walk in the door at Boyrdon Pharmaceuticals, leaving behind the slightly chilly outside spring air and traverse the huge lobby in direction of the check gates to the office area. I feel good and refreshed, squeaky clean, well made-up and elegantly dressed as I walk along, collecting a few short, hidden glimpses from a couple of delivery guys over at the reception desk as I pass by. Yes, I feel good; I feel great, in fact. I wear my favorite executive suit, a grey jacket with a white blouse, with a knee-long skirt, a pair of ultra-thin cooly comfortable stockings and medium high stilettos. An elegant white scarf with blue dots caresses my neck as I walk, and my handbag match my bracelet and my light brown belt, making me feel even better because I know just how very well the colors match. Under my thin blouse my bra feels light and almost airy, lightly caressing my nipples as I draw my card at the gate and get welcomed in by a short 'donnnng' and a shift from red to green on the index panel. The glass gate slides open with a mechanical sigh and I step up to the escalator that will take me to my well- known collegial department at the seventh floor for another exciting day of demanding, but very enjoyable project work. Actually I don't know why I feel so well this particular morning. Maybe it has something to do with the weather? The temperature has been perfect for several days, leaving me the feeling of freshness all the way from my home and most of the day at work. I can never have enough of this feeling of freshness from coming directly from the shower, with well-shampooed and wonderfully smelling hair, discretely laid make-up and cool and clean underwear that simply caress and adore my body as I move out to the car and then from the garage and up to the corporate building down town. Or maybe there's a sixth sense hinting to me that this day will be special.... That it in fact will change my life forever? I practically sing my 'good mornings' at the young lady at the seventh floor reception, and sprays equally joyous 'hello's' all over my colleagues on the way to my office. Yes, this is going to be a nice day indeed, I can feel it in every nerve of my body. I work with a new corporate presentation for a few hours, until Selma sticks her head in and wonders if I'd like to join her for lunch out, across the street at Preben's. Why not, I think, looking at my watch and discovering that regular lunch is almost overdue already. Actually she saved me from a starving afternoon -- again. We go down and out into the street. We wait at the red light to cross as I suddenly notice someone about 20 yards higher up the sidewalk. It's a girl, and I wouldn't have noticed at all hadn't it been for the peculiar stare I feel almost like a glow in my neck. I look her direction out of the corner of my eyes, and then stiffen. Suddenly I turn and meet her eyes. My jaw drops and I get completely pale. "Lana..." I look at her like she should be a ghost. She looks back at me... smile a little sheepishly, like she is sorry to bother me simply by being looked at. Yes, there's no doubt whatsoever! Who can forget that dark hair, those wonderful eyes, those red lips and almost glistening white teeth? She's even smaller than I imagined, but still she's filling my entire vision, and I don't even recognize that the lights turn green, and that all the people, including Selma, start crossing. I come to myself and pick up the cell phone from the bag. As Celma turns to see why I'm not coming, I fake a call and just wave her on, indicating that I'll be along in a moment. Then I start to move in the direction of the revelation from a different world that all of a sudden had materialized at my side, here, right in front of my company's main building. I walk up to her, blinks at her and grab her arm. I guide her with me as we continue some thirty yards further up, until we're round a corner and are away from any prying eyes of colleagues or friends. "Lana," I whisper, holding her shoulders against the wall with both hands, "what on earth are you doing here?" "I -- I just wanted to see you. I just had to see you." "Really.... Um... but I..." Then it strikes me. Torben and the boys are away for another day, so that actually isn't a problem. But I have an arrangement with Brita this evening, we are going to -- I have to smile. And I bend down and kiss Lana on the mouth. The hell with Brita!! I have no one else but LANA right here in front of me. Brita can wait till the end of days. She's so incredibly boring anyway. Lana blinks her eyes. Looks up at me. Still almost staring. I realize this is the first time she actually sees me for real, up close, and I try to look beautiful for her... flash my best smile possible, but feels it stiffen like a piece of dry wood, growing completely unnatural and embarrassing. I let go of her shoulders, realizing I'm almost pushing her against the wall, she straightens a little and reaches up to stroke my cheeks with both her hands. "Tantala, I --" her lower lips shake, and a shiny tear appears in her right eye and runs wetly down her cheek. I bend down and kiss her again. Fetches my hankie from my purse, and tap the tear away just before it reaches her upper lip. Then I look around with a snug smile before I again take her by the arm and set course for a different restaurant, at the Excelsior, a place I know none of my colleagues will ever go for a regular lunch break. On the way I call Selma, excusing myself that there was an emergency call for a client meeting, and that I would just have to skip lunch today. Me and Lana sit down in the elegant restaurant and talk for a long time. We drink coffee and she orders a big ice cream, one of her favorites, as I try to settle with a small plate of mixed fruit. I drown in her eyes as we talk, immerse in their mysterious blackness, dive into her soul and bath in her beautiful interior as I admire her accordingly stunning exterior. She's just as beautiful as I imagined her to be from the pictures, even wearing the same make-up she had at the first picture she sent me. I just can't leave her alone. I touch her cheeks, her shoulder, play with her dark hair as she talks, and follow each spoon of ice cream as it disappears between those full, red lips. Those delightful lips that have already promised themselves to me a million times in her over-heated emails. I remember, all of a sudden, and feel myself getting moist down there... almost immediately. And then getting ashamed... almost immediately. She keeps talking. Telling me why she came here, how she came her. How she found me. It was easier than I could imagine, and I decide I have to be much more careful with my personal information in the future. What if this kind of information, about Tantala Ray's real identity, should get into the wrong hands? What if THAT should be known by my colleagues in the corporate office? I'd be dead and buried, that's for sure, right away, no question about that! She tells me how much she loves me, and I grab her hands and tells her my feelings for her. Her hands are small, warm and gentle, almost like angel hands. And her eyes... with those long, black eyelashes... well that's a pair of angel's eyes too, for sure. I just can't get over those eyes... I tell her I'll have to get back to the office for the afternoon shift. She tells me she understands. After all she's come here as a total surprise. She doesn't expect me to just throw away anything and run off with her. She smiles as she says so, much more confident now. She knows she will not be turned away, she knows my feelings for her are as genuine as her own, and that from here on there can't be anything but love and beauty. We agree to meet again in front of the hotel at 5:30. She's there when I come, almost ten minutes late, smiling beautifully and adoringly at me when she recognizes me out of the crowd of afternoon-commuteers. I smuggle her down into the garage and into my car, and then drive out on almost screeching tires to avoid being seen by any of my colleagues. I know the rest of the world isn't ready for this at all. How could it, when I'm not ready for it myself!? We go down town. We have a light dinner at Strøget, walk down most of it on the way there, and then up again afterward. Even though it is light, I feel full and a bit sated as we're finished, and not as fresh as I did up until lunchtime. It's not warm, but still warm enough for me not to feel fully fresh any more in my clothes. But Lana doesn't seem to notice at all. She's admiring the charms of the Danish capital at the fullest, enthusiastically asking both herself and me why she hasn't thought of visiting such a beautiful place before. Finally it's starting to dusk, and we get back to the car and head home. I cannot bring someone with me in broad daylight with my husband away and everything, even if it is a young lady. Lana is a stunning beauty, and people would be asking themselves about this, even if they wouldn't suspect anything about my sexual preferences. I use the remote to open the garage door much earlier than usual, and again get inside on almost screeching tires to minimize the chances of anybody seeing us, although the darkness is already helping it a lot by now. We're inside and safe. Family is away for two days, and Lana is with ME, in MY house!!! We sit down and have a drink. The tension between us hangs thick in the air. We've talked so much on email on what we would like to do once we would be together, but talking about it is different from actually doing something, obviously, and we both feel that difference intensely at the moment. I am thinking about preparing some dinner, but decide to call some catering service instead. Lana in fact insist that a regular pizza is okay, and I call for one with shaky hands. Then I excuse myself to the bedroom and bathroom to get a bit refreshed. The first thing I do is to wash myself thoroughly, especially down there, and then put on a good dose of my best perfume before I switch to a new pair of my best panties. I whiff at my skirt and find that it is tolerable, although I did let out a few small smellies during the day, without having any opportunity to vent it properly away on the spot, as I always try to do... When I get back out again I offer Lana the same opportunity, and she's off with her usual wonderfully warm smile. She's gone much longer than me, and when she's back I notice that she has even worked over her make-up once again, clearly indicating to me that she wants to look her absolutely best at all times when she's with me... Oh how I love that beautiful girl! How I simply adore her! We drink several glasses more of one of my husband's best cognacs. I thought of wine, but when Lana agreed without hesitation to my suggestion, we ended up with a four star 1998 Connisseur. There will be time later on to think of an explanation to Torben. Finally we loosen up a little, and I suddenly realize that I can break the ice even better by simply showing her around the house. It's really not that much to show, but she seems amazed and praises everything she sees with a well-established display of almost American-like enthusiasm. I'm intrigued and charmed, and have to control myself to not spinning her around and kiss her to the end of days. Finally we get to the bedroom, and I get shy again. So does she, apparently, because even her admiration is more reserved, and she seems almost afraid to step inside. I finally get around to encourage her, and she does, but we're out again after just a few seconds. I'm glad, in fact, because it wasn't that perfectly well organized since I didn't expect to have to show it off to anybody this evening, and especially not to the girl I love. At least one more cognac, that's for sure. We sit down in the living room again. The pizza arrives, and we eat about half of it, but none of us are very hungry yet. I can feel how Lana stares at my legs and my skirt, and I feel even the fresh panties getting moist as new heat flushes through my chest again. I know so perfectly well what she has said about this, but now that it's real, I cannot believe that she would actually like to do something like that. Down there? Between those legs? Under that skirt? Then she looks at me. Straight at me! Her gaze is firm and determined. I know the moment is here. I'm paralyzed... lamed... extremely horny and frightened at the same time. Am I going to make a complete fool of myself? Is this going to be just a big, unbearable embarrassment to both of us? And is it really going to happen... for real? Part 2 I try to speak, try to be the urban lady I thought I was, the self confident woman who snaps out orders and get things done, the one Lana surely expects me to be. But I'm not able to say a single word. All that hard-earned self confidence is like blown away, and now it is Lana who seems to be most at comfort with the situation. I never thought of it this way before, but I realize how impossible it in fact seems to me, this notion that such a beautiful girl actually would like to put her face and mouth down there, between my thighs! I'm sure that even though I've washed and washed and washed again I must be smelling... I mean really smelling. And beautiful girls notice even the slightest hints of such things, that I know from my own sensitive nose. I hate it when Torben smells of sweat or dirt, or both. It's just completely intolerable, and I can just imagine how that must be for a classy young girl like this one. How on earth can a woman ever feel prepared for something like this? I feel an intense need to return to the bathroom for another wash, at least to dry the sweat off the palms of my hands. Or are they really sweating? Maybe it just feels that way? I'm not sure, and I definitely don't want to dry them along my skirt to find out! My heart is pounding, and for a moment I feel dizzy. A chilling sting of panic shoots through me as I for a split second worry about fainting. But it passes over and I'm just plain nervous again, still struggling to think of something sensible to say to this revelation of beauty sitting right in front of me, just waiting to please me. "I -- It's so strange to have you here. I mean... unreal, in a way..." I stutter at the beginning, but the end flows a bit better. "I know," she almost whispers back, looking me even deeper in the eyes, "I never thought I would get the nerve to ever show up. But I knew I just had to..." "I'm so glad, Lana..." I sigh deeply, and that helps me a bit. Her calmness settles me somewhat too, even though it definitely should have been the other way around. Still I feel that I'm coming a little bit to my senses, and realize I have to stop my desperate search for words; try to let it flow a bit more freely. "Well, now you're here -- with me -- and I think we should have one more toast on that, don't you think so?" As we once again click our glasses, I feel like a complete fool for saying such a stupid, utterly fantasyless thing. I've got to have something better to come up with, don't I? But it must be - no, it is - this thing about the moment of truth; that realization that so brutally dawned upon me after we had finished the pizza. Now is the time in our lives that it's all really going to happen, all these things that we have talked so many hours about, those lustful hours of passionate fantasies and wicked visions. I always liked it best when we discussed our story projects and the heated scenes taking place there, but eventually we had both -- more or less unconsciously, perhaps -- gradually moved over to the relationship between the two of us, with me being the senior partner and her being exactly what she is; the wonderful, beautiful, incredible and joyfully submissive Lana. The stiff nervousness in my body is disturbed by small flushes of warm passion, and as I continue to immerse into the black depths of those incredibly beautiful eyes, the passion seems to flow into my chest and kind of wash away some of the discomfort and stiffness. It kind of clears my mind a little, and I feel a sudden capability of rational thinking again. First of all I am as clean and refreshed as I can ever be, even though I'm of course not as 100% as I was this morning. So if this is not good enough, it will never be good enough, and the whole thing will be over and done with. Of course I'm still worried sick about it, but right here and now there's absolutely nothing I can do to change anything, so it will have to be contact or bust! That helps me too... that simple inevitability about it. I'm as ready as can be, and dear beautiful Lana will have to take it or leave it. But, on the other hand she'll be well prepared for the fact that she'll be in touch with a full blown human body, won't she? A body that smells and tastes like a body and not as an expensive bottle of Chanel No 5? "You're so incredibly beautiful..." The words just drift out of me. Lana looks down for a moment, and I triumphantly think that she's finally gotten a bit shy or something. But then she looks at me again with her broadest and most heartfelt smile, and I know she's still very much on top of it all! I know she's nervous too, but she's got a wonderful capability of hiding it, at least to me. "Thank you," she muses, blowing me a kiss across the yard of air between us. "You're much more beautiful -- and much taller -- than I even imagined..." I cross my legs again, her eyes immediately drops to follow my movements and they stay down a little longer as the edge of my skirt slides a little higher. I can feel my self confidence slowly coming back to me, at least a little bit more, and the sexual arousal takes over more and more of my bodily turmoil. And as I remind myself that I really am attractive -- many people have told me so too -- I feel calm enough to finally be ready to take some kind of lead on what is going to happen. It's unlikely that Lana will make any moves, unless things get completely stuck, that is. Or maybe she would, after all? Somehow I doubt that she would be so careful in real life as she likes her submissive characters to be in our stories. Or maybe even that is not completely true? Come to think of it, many of the heroines are actually quite forward in pursuing what they want, when they want it. So maybe Lana would be too? But I don't want to find out. Somehow it feels right that I should take the lead, and at the end of the day I'm quite sure that's what Lana would like too, and I think it is what she expects. I suppress the last flush of cold nervousness and clear my throat. "Lana, what do you say? Should we bring the bottle and the glasses and move over to the couch?" Her eyes were down at my exposed thighs again, and they flash up as I start talking. "Uh... yes... Yes, that would be nice." I take my glass and the bottle of cognac and get to my feet. As I turn around, I take a deep breath and step resolutely over to the broad corner couch at the other end of our living room, working my hips and butt the best I can as I go. I just know I want to do this right... in a way that I hope Lana will understand and cherish... in a way I hope that she will love... She brings her glass and follows a few steps behind me. I put the bottle and my glass down on the glass table and turn around slowly. Then I sit down on the couch, modestly stroking my skirt down my legs as I do, realizing now that my sweating palms were nothing but pure imagination. Lana puts her glass on the table too and move over to sit down beside me. "No, Lana... there... in front of me... on the floor. Please." Part 3 Lana stiffens for a moment, and I can see the naked nervousness in her eyes as the impact of my instruction sink in with her. Talking about it, even writing about it is one thing; doing it is something entirely different though. I'm nervous again too. Will it be just intolerably awkward, or will it in fact be as erotic as we have discussed so often? She moves to bend a knee, then shifts to the other, clumsily trying to find a 'decent' decent down to the carpet in front of me. She ends up almost falling to her knees, quite ungraciously. She's a little too far away too, and has to knee-walk closer up to me with swaying arms as her cheeks redden and here eyes seems to be glued to the floor in front of me. My Lana I find some comfort in the fact that she feels even more awkward than I do, not because I wish that feeling for her - not at all - but it makes it possible for me to assume some kind of leading position again, as I know she wants and needs. I sit with my knees together, and deliberately confuse her even more by abruptly bending forward to get my drink again. Her eyelashes flick open for a moment, almost instinctively, and I meet that incredibly beautiful gaze of her once again. She must have seen something in my eyes, because after having looked down again for a brief moment, she gazes directly at me with a newfound confidence that almost surprises me as I put my glass to my lips to take another deep swig. And as soon as this infernal nervousness lets go for a moment, the heat once again flushes through me like a fireball. Lana is now sitting back on her haunches, her chest even with my decently paired knees, and her face an open study of this intriguing combination of nervousness and anticipation. The red lips part slightly, and I can see the shining, pearly white teeth and a faint hint of her tongue. That tongue that would like nothing more than pleasure me to the end of days. I gasp involuntarily as the notion strikes me, and Lana's eyes falls on my tits as my chest heaves in response to my sharp intake of air. I feel my globes press against the cups of my bra, stretching the shirt in a way that makes me feel very sexy and desirable. I know my tits are not that big, but on occasions like these I've got the feeling they even swell a little bit extra with the ardor of my passion. "Dear, beautiful Lana," I murmur, more to myself than to her. "I still cannot comprehend that this is really real... I just cannot." When she smiles beautifully up at me, I just can't help it any longer. Slowly I let my knees slip apart. Just a little at first, but then I use my hands to swipe my skirt a little higher, allowing me to spread enough for her to be sure she can get a glimpse of my silky white panties under there. Her eyes are glued to the spot and she groans almost painfully as my motion is stopped by the new limits presented by the confines of my skirt. All of a sudden we have both forgotten all awkward feelings we might ever have had. As Lana lets her torso slip very slowly forward, we're both completely breathless, breathless from real and unadulterated passion. She lets her hands touch my lightly trembling knees and then slip them up my outer thighs on both sides until they reach the edge of my skirt. Her fingers dig persistently in under the edge texture, and then slip underneath, gently pushing my skirt further up as they continue caressing the skin of my thighs. Suddenly my skirt is all up to my crotch, and the smell of my arousal hit my nose as a mental slap in the face. Do I smell that much? Am I really so aroused already? Won't she be appalled? The nervousness flares up in me, and I feel myself stiffen up once again. I force myself to relax though, hoping she hasn't noticed this latest brutal sting of uncertainty either. Lana wants a confident and strong lover, and I must do all that I can to give her what she wants... just the same way she would like to give me what I want. I will soon enough find out if she likes it or not. So I fight back my instinctive urge to hide away, to close out and shut down, and instead let myself slump slightly lower on the coach, resuming my slow opening of thighs until I'm spread almost obscenely open in front of my lover's hot gaze. In the process Lana has almost unnoticeably slid her hands up under my thighs and butt and kind of embraced my hips as I went along. She stares breathlessly at my panty-covered crotch, following the spreading of a wet patch from the centre of it with almost staring eyes. I just can't help it, even though I know it just makes my feeling of uncertainty worse. But I already feel the tip of her finger on the top of my waistband, slowly crouching inwards to get a grip, and the knowledge makes my passion mount to almost uncontrollable levels. I gasp, and as the fingers start a gentle pull, I'm almost too eager to raise my butt to allow the lacy material to slide down over my hips and butt and down my upper thighs. Obviously I need to close my thighs again for it to move further, but Lana is leaning back in an almost trance-like move, allowing for me to let it slip down past my knees and down my calves. I lift one high-heeled foot at the time to get all out of it and get on to the next exciting level as soon as possible. Then, when the final moment - the moment of moments -- arrives, the uncertainty hit us both again. I sit with my knees closed, like before, and Lana sits back on her haunches, like before, an none of us seem to know how to make the next move. Are we really ready for this? Really? Can we actually go through with it now that it is going to happen for real? Somehow we both feel that once we proceed beyond this point, there's no turning back. I feel lame, my heart thumping, and I have to stop myself from attempting to stroke my skirt down along my thighs again. But I can see that Lana feels the same way, and that she won't be able to break out of it either. Not without my help - or without a common effort, to be more precise. I get grip, really forcing myself out of my nearly paralyzed stage, and start the process of getting the final, decisive move done with. I reach out for Lana's hands and gently place them on my knees. For a moment I can feel a light resistance in her hands, but then she seems to grasp my intention and let me guide them down to cover my knee-caps with incredibly soft palms. When I start to move my knees apart again, I'm unable to look into her eyes. It tortures me, because I know she would love the eye contact as I slowly expose myself fully to her. For the very first time. But I have to look down. I'm just feeling her eyes trying to find mine as I go. But then I can sense her gaze dropping again, and I know exactly where it is now homing in. The movement I started myself is now followed up by her as she almost impatiently push my knees further apart. My heart race wildly in my chest, and passion and fear fight fiercely for the dominance of my soul. But the passion wins. I know now that she cannot dislike the smell of my arousal, because I would have noticed any signs about it already. On the contrary, she seems just as arduous as she always said she would be, and as I slip a little further down on the couch she bends forward and let her dark, beautiful head slip in between my open thighs. Her hands leave my knees with a final little push outwards and slide gently under my thighs in a swift and elegant swerve to once again cup my butt and pull me the last bit out to the edge. I'm as spread and exposed as I've ever been before in my life. Part 4 Lana is still nervous. Her fingers are still trembling lightly as they stroke my skin. But she is calmer than she was just a little while ago, and I'm not in doubt if she would really go through with it or not. And I feel that I'm getting more grip of the situation myself too. And finally the time is right for me to raise my eyes and seek out those of hers. I know how much she likes the eye-contact -- she's told me so on numerous occasions -- and I know I'll do anything to do my part to her satisfaction. I meet her dark beautiful eyes as her head slowly moves forward against me. The mesmerizing gaze is like a shock to me, and I feel the passion literally bubble up my body as she start to shape her lips for the first kiss of life, the first unifying kiss that we have been talking about and longing for such an endlessly long time. I feel the wetness push on, and for a moment I fear that it will leak out of me in rivulets even before the magical moment can occur. As she moves up close, and I can feel my pubic hair tickling her nose, I feel myself make an almost unconscious pelvic lift to meet her before I completely wet down everything, and she make a small squeal of delight as she plants her lips on me and goes in for a deep, almost sucking kiss that has me trembling all over. Her sigh of passion flatten the wiry curls around her nose, and her eyes drop down to focus her full attention to our first, worshipful kiss. My hear feels like it is bumping loosely around my entire chest, and a scorching heat spreads out from my loins and all the way out into my arms and legs. My toes curl up in my shoes from the sheer intensity of the magical touch and I feel the trembling run in uncontrollable waves throughout my body. I'm stiff like a log, and it isn't until Lana suddenly lets go with an almost purring 'mmmuuuahhh' that I sink back a little and get some control of my body again. She looks up at me with a happy smile, the wetness of me already shining on her lips and her chin, and I manage to return her smile in an almost surprisingly natural and relaxed way. "Do -- do you like it," I ask breathlessly, more in a clumsy attempt to calm further down than to actually get to know. Right now I couldn't stand another moment of awkward tension between us. "I love you," she answers with hooded eyes, almost matter-of-factly, looking me deeply into the eyes as her tongue makes a sweep along her lips to sample more of my hopefully divine taste. Then her eyes seem to almost slip slowly out of focus as her eyelids drop and she once again bend down to put her beautiful red lips against my now fully swollen vulva. She makes another long, deep kiss, adjusting her position slightly on the floor as she goes. Then I feel the tongue. That magic, incredible tongue. The very tongue she has promised me will bring me to heaven and back again a million times! At first it's just touching its tip lightly against me, then I feel her open up more and start to slide it gently up and down my cleft as she moans against my pubic bone. I start trembling again, the waves of lust getting stronger by the minutes. My clit is already bursting hard, and each time her tongue slides up close to it, it feels like my whole belly is melting in liquidized heat. Under the cups of my bra my nipples are equally erect, and I can't resist the urge to put a hand into the left cup and massage one of them with trembling fingers. My other hand move down to find Lana's hand half way under my butt, and I almost forcefully pull it free and let my finger entwine with hers as I let my head fall back to the neck cushion with a gasp. It's just too much to bear. She's doing it so incredibly good! The tongue keeps on sliding up and down, stopping right under the base of my clit, driving me stark jumping mad with the overwhelming sensations, making me twist and arch around as the passion takes more and more hold of me. I know it's not just the pleasure. It's the fact that it is Lana, the real flesh-and-blood Lana who is doing this to me. The very Lana that suddenly materialized out of my fantasy computer world just a few hours ago, and who is now kneeling on the floor in front of me, doing the thing that we have both dreamt of with such incredible passion and pleasurable yearnings. That's what's making it so unbearably exciting, and which makes an otherwise tolerable stimulation completely impossible to withstand. I can feel my juices flowing freely out of me, and I start to fear that I won't be able to control anything at all even with the gentle level of stimulation I'm exposed to at such an early stage in our lovemaking. Somehow my wetness seems to be no problem at all though. That messy wetness that always used to bother me when I should enjoy a happy little moment alone with my lovable long finger or my private little buzzer friend. It takes me another moment to realize why. I know where it is going! Her tongue captures it elegantly, like a cat at the milk bowl, without even interrupting the methodic stimulation of the base of my aching clit. I don't even notice it. I just feel her stimulation, that incredibly concentrated stimulation, now ever so gently easing itself upwards, until her tongue concentrate its work firmly under the base of my clit, right across my dribbling urethra, lapping gently but still almost greedily, making the melting sensation in my belly develop into a raging firestorm that seems to come out of control any moment now. Now I can feel her short tongue- swerves down to capture my wetness, and the short interruptions are the only thing that prevents me from losing control that very moment. Still it soon becomes very difficult to withstand, and as the firestorm increase its rage and starts to flare down my thighs and up into my chest, I suddenly realize that I'm already about to pass the point of no return. As I feel the knot start to tighten in my belly, I gasp hoarsely and reach down with my free hand to grab hold of Lana's dark head. She knows what's coming and braces herself by grabbing on to my hips and taking in all of my pussy as my other hand flies up to help the first one hold on to my sweet lover's head. The knot tightens to an almost painful level until it kind of explodes inside me, bursting all of my pent-up passion and joy out in a veritable flood wave that splashes against the back of Lana's throat as she closes her eyes in intense concentration to hang on with me through the build and peak of my gut-wrenching climax. I scream out and bounce around wildly on the couch as I hold desperately on to the dark head in an attempt to keep her in place throughout the duration of the biggest orgasm of my entire life. But I wouldn't have to worry about that at all. Lana hangs on grimly, squealing in unparalleled joy as she does, her hands like a vice around my wildly bucking hips, and she even manages to keep up her incredible tongue stimulation as she continues to drink down my deluge of passion as it flows at her. In my insane ecstasy I can feel it, and I can cherish it, but I have no capacity to marvel about the incredible devotion required to actually do it. But her mouth is like glued over my pussy, and as I sometimes even pull her head the wrong directions in the throes of my orgasm, she still manages to stay in position and follow me all the way through until I finally start to calm down and somehow get back to my senses. As I do, her grip around my hips lets go too, carefully at first, but then it transform into a soft stroking of gentle fingertips as we both sink back down onto the cushion of the couch again, her beautiful dark head still following me dutifully as her hands slide from my hips over to my belly to stroke it heaving curves with gentle, sliding movements. Her lips are still pressed against my pussy and her nose is buried in my pubic bush, and she shows no sign of letting up as she continues to stroke my belly, giving me an additional feeling of comfort from the almost painful knot that tightened up in there seconds before my orgasm struck. I let go of her head and use my hands to grasp hers, lovingly holding around them in a gesture of deep and heartfelt gratitude. Deep inside I know she probably enjoyed is just as much as I did, but at this moment it was impossible not to feel the deepest kind of gratefulness one person could possibly feel for another. And the deepest kind of love too! An intense feeling of love and compassion fills every vein of my body, and as she finally lifts her gaze and looks up at me, it is just impossible for me not to be overwhelmed by emotions. All of a sudden my tears flow freely, and a thick lump in my throat makes it impossible to utter any kind of understandable sounds at all. Her eyes overflow too, and we both cry tears of sweet happiness and love for a few minutes as the enormity of the situation really gets to us. I urge for her to come up to me, and she raises her mouth from me to meet my request. As she does, sticky strands of my generous deluge stretch out between us, and we both have to smile at the delightful crudeness of the picture as she uses her tongue to snap them over before she comes up to me for a good, old-fashioned cuddle. "I love you too," I whisper, and she smiles at me more beautifully than I've ever seen a girl's smile in my entire life... Part 5 Her mouth is still wet, shiny and sticky with my juices of passion, but I cannot resist the urge to put my head behind her neck and pull her head down for a deep kiss. I taste myself clearly in her mouth as I let my tongue travel seductively along the pearly white rows of her teeth. I put my hands on her sweet perky tits through her blouse, and she puts her hands on mine. I notice she doesn't have a bra, and her nipples protrude stiffly against the palms of my hand, displaying her trembling arousal for me, and I again have to remind myself that I in fact am an attractive woman. I really have to, because I still find it almost impossible to believe that a dark, young beauty like Lana can in fact harbor such passions for an old woman like me. We kiss long and breathlessly as our hands roam all over each other's bodies through our clothes. I feel an intense urge to pull them all off her, to feel her nakedness against me, but somehow I still feel unsure if that is the right thing to do yet. She's told me a million times how her dreams and fantasies are all about pleasuring me, so maybe I should just let things run their natural course and kind of follow the flow until that becomes the right thing to do, all by itself? Yes, that must be right. I'm sure Lana will want it, but this is the moment for the actual realization of our fantasies, not the time for a 'regular' love session between two equal partners -- as we of course are. We break our kiss and both come up for air, looking each other deep in the eyes as we gasp for breath and hold firmly around each other's tits. A drop of saliva stretches from Lana's lower lip and down into my mouth, and I devour it with a humming sound that clearly indicates to her that I'm still hot as hell and ready for more of her delightful service. Yes, that is definitely a part of the natural flow at the moment, and I smile up at her and whisper and inaudible 'again' as I let go of her tits to raise my hands and give her shoulders an ever so gentle downward thug. She understands immediately and her face again becomes a mask of sheer, unadulterated passion. Oh, how I love her like this; those eyes completely foggy with desire as she lifts herself slightly to start her downward pass, letting the tip of her nose touch the texture of my stretched shirt down between my tits and further down my body. As her face passes the buckle of my belt and the pushed-up heap of my skirt, her hands start to caress and massage my belly again. I never actually thought about it, not even as she did it after my first orgasm, but that devoted massaging of my lower tummy -- my rounded belly - is exceptionally comfortable, kind of soothing the ultimate lair of pleasure, both pre and post ecstasy; the very centre of my most divine and profound womanhood. Now her dedicated fingers do the trick again, making me almost mad with lust as they kept on caressing, accompanied by the wet trail of kisses traversing downwards toward the stray locks of my pubic bush. Oh, it is completely crazy, completely impossible to endure a second longer. I have to mobilize all my strength to fight the urge to grasp her head and just force that beautiful face down where I want it. But I really want to let her follow her own lead right now... her own mood. I know how important that part is for her enjoyment. And I couldn't stand the idea that she wouldn't be enjoying it all just as much as I do. Still, as her face nuzzle away in the taft of my wry and wiry curls, it strikes me with a hot tingling in my belly. Wasn't it on second thought exactly what she wanted? What she secretly craved for? After all? Maybe she actually don't want to have the lead in the progress of it? Wasn't that what she had told me on numerous occasions? Not directly of course, but in her own masterful way of sweet and passionate indications. Yes of course! How silly of me. Of course that's what she wants, and of course that's what I'm going to give to her... My Lana I want her mouth on my pussy, and that's where I'm going to have it. Right now! I resolutely grab her head in both hands and press her mouth firmly against my source in an almost rough manner. She squeals with joy, and I again have to marvel over how I can still misinterpret all the various signals she has given me. This is what she wants, and this is definitely what she's going to get. I need the stimulation right away, and start rubbing myself up and down her lips in short, staccato movements. But once again she grasps my passionate demands perfectly, and her tongue darts out to start lapping at my engorged labia with the same rhythm and intensity that I've started off myself. In just a matter of seconds she has taken over the whole action, and I sink back with a deep sigh of contentment as she keeps up the stimulation at exactly the level I want. She buries inward, giving throaty sounds of abandoned passion as she search patiently for the best spots, carefully observing even the slightest signs of response from me to heighten my pleasure as much as possible. I sense it and cherish it, and cannot help small uncontrolled bucks up at the delightfully working mouth as the pleasure starts to creep in on me once again. I grasp at my tits again, but I'm obstructed by my shirt and bra. With impatient, almost annoyed moves I undo some of my buttons and push the cups down to get some access. My nipples are almost unbearably stiff, and as my fingers touch them it is like an electrical spark flashing all the way down into my crotch. I moan hoarsely, and Lana responds with another throaty sound -- almost a gurgle -- and intensifies her wonderful massaging of my belly. I sense more than I feel her preparedness to grasp on to my hips if I should suddenly and abruptly start off on another ecstasy, as I did the last time. Ooohhhh how fantastic that tongue is! Working with exactly the kind of intensity I want, knowing it all almost better than I do myself. Even though she's doing it perfectly, I just can't help bucking my pubic bone against her as I intensify the stimulation of my aching tits. The passion is just too much to bear. It's simply impossible to stay still. The explosion comes so suddenly that it takes us both completely by surprise. My hips bounce up violently, and I throw my head back as I scream wildly into the air. Lana's face is bounced backwards and for a moment she loses contact with me as her hands roam desperately all over to try to grasp on to my hips. She finally finds her grip and plants her entire face back into my crotch just in time to have a completely uncontrolled spurt of my liquidized passion flooding her mouth. Her passionate shriek is drowned in my deluge, and she swallows desperately to try to get in control, knowing perfectly well that there's extremely much more to come in a split second. I once again grasp on to her head with both hands and press her against me as I feel my whole crotch explode in a torrent of liquid that would have overwhelmed anybody attempting to keep up with it. Ooooohhhh, I come and come into her wonderful mouth. She's so skilled, so thirsty, so insatiable... so incredibly insatiable for me. I can feel it in every nerve of my body. It's an almost unreal situation; we met just a few hours ago, and now I feel no inhibitions in letting my bodily fluids gush into her mouth without the slightest attempt s of holding back. Even though she must be nervous herself, she makes me feel so free and unrestricted I can sing out in joy as we trash along in ecstasy all over the couch. It keeps leaking out of me long after my orgasm has subsided, but her gently lapping tongue catches it all so masterfully I hardly feel the wetness at all as I sigh and breathe heavily in my wonderful transition into languid recovery. We lay like that for quite a while, talking about our discussions, our dreams and fantasies and how we had finally been able to see it through. She tells me she has asked for a whole week off from her work to have some available time in case it would be difficult to find me. But she got hold of me already the first day. And I'm soooo glad. That means we will have several days together before she has to leave. The only problem is that my husband and my kids will be back late tomorrow night, so this is in fact the only night we can stay together at my home like this. And not only will they be back, they'll be requesting a lot of my presence for helping along with organizing everything from their trip and so on. Part 6 I wake up almost ten minutes before the buzzer on the night stand. It's dark still, and on my side Lana is sleeping like a baby, breathing deep and regularly as she lay on her side with arms and legs sprawled to both sides, and her beautiful black hair fanned out over the pillow. The last thing I remember is how we both fell asleep with her sweet lips still nuzzling tenderly at my sated pussy and her fingers toying around the curls on my pubic bone. During the night we must have twisted and turned many times, finally ending up the way we were right now. She is so beautiful. So incredibly sweet and beautiful. Her face a classical portrait of innocent faithfulness. I feel the warmth in my chest and the moistness in my eyelids just thinking about all the good she did me last night... and all the good she's promised to do me all the time we'll be able to spend together. I slide out of my bed as quietly as I can, and she makes no sign of noticing my moves. I realize she must still be tired from her transatlantic flight, and I decide to try to sneak through my morning routines and get to my job without waking her at all. I do, and before I leave I prepare a plate, a glass and a knife on the table for her, make a fresh pot of hot water and a tea bag, boil an egg and put it under an isolation hood for her and then finish it all with a note to be waiting for her at the warm water can on the table. Dearest dearest Lana. I want to thank you sooo much for everything you've given me! Please don't be upset that I left you sleeping. You slept so well. Completely like an angel... as you are! When you're up and had your breakfast please give me a call. I'll be awaiting you in my office. You know where I am! ;-) I love you more than anything!! T I leave my number and even an instruction which tram to take to get there. Before I leave I peek into the bedroom again, seeing her naked butt as she still sleeps in the same position as before. I can't help it but have to tiptoe in as a shadow and give her a soft little peck on her cheek. I can sense the peculiar smell of me and her on her face and see some dried stains that clearly tells me how wild our love session had been last night. She didn't wake up even now, and I quietly slide out again, grabbing my handbag and locking myself out. My wonderful girl deserved as much beauty sleep as she can possibly get. If anybody on this world should deserve that, it would have to be her! ------ I work for about two hours, until 10:30 before the call come. My heart sings as I hear her drowsy voice at the other end. I expected she'd sleep so about till lunchtime, so I've made sure to do as much as possible till then, and organized to clear my entire afternoon for 'interviews,' as I have told the department secretary. Her drowsiness seemes to disappear in a heartbeat as she sets about reading my note once again, properly. I can hear her crunching on her müsli slowing down and then stopping all together. Then the sound of one hard gulp. "Tantala.. do you mean... can I... can I really come over to your office? Like... now?" I have to smile to myself at her surprise. "Yes indeed my dear, wonderful girl, you can! In fact I'm waiting quite impatiently for you, so please hurry!" "Yes... oh yes! I'll be there as soon as I can." Her voice got so eager that I was afraid she'd drop her phone. "Great. But finish your breakfast first, will you? And prepare yourself properly! I want it to be a really beautiful girl that comes to see me for my interview session, right?" "Will do," she confirms in an almost military response. But I can sense her good-natured twinkle all the way through the wire, and feel quite comfortable that I haven't gone too far in my demanding instructions to her. We hang up and I grab a quick lunch and take some good time off in the lady's room to freshen up on my make-up and perfume my body to be as delightful as I possibly can for her when she arrives. I can feel my hands start to tremble lightly again. It's almost like I should be preparing for a really great meeting, but I try to calm myself down again by telling myself over and over again that it's just Lana coming to see me. Just my wonderful beautiful and extremely lovable Lana... I realize my nervousness is more about how we should be able to be together -- 'properly' -- in my office than anything else. I've already more or less given up on the possibility of doing anything more intimate in there, with glass walls out to the heavily trafficked hallway outside. But then, all of a sudden my cover of an 'interview' gives me an idea. Of course, we have the designated interview offices on the eleventh floor! She doesn't actually have to know, does she? If I just bring up my laptop, put it in the docking station there, bring up some pictures and other things from my locker room... I can make it my second office for the day, just for her. Yessss, that's it. That office is perfect. There's three of them up there, and all three are designed to be elegant and impressive for any potential employees being interviewed. I jump into the elevator to get up for an inspection. Looking at the board at the empty front desk, there's no interviews scheduled for today or tomorrow. I look into the offices, and two of them are tidy and clean and just perfect for the purpose. The huge desk is shiny dark and the comfortable black recliner behind even smells of fresh leather. Behind it there's an impressive view to the city and the busy harbor and even quite a glimpse of Øresund further out. I jump out, get down to the wardrobe and get a few personal things from my locker room, put them in a big bag and bring them upstairs. On the way I pass by my office and reconnect my phone to the interview office and leave a message about the interview on my door. Well up again I put everything on my desk, along with my laptop, hook everything up and check that it works with the two huge flat screens on the desk. Finally I step back and look at it as I rub my palms against my skirt-clad hips to calm down and relax. It looks perfect. Of course I will tell her -- eventually -- that it's not really my office, I know I could never lie to her, but for a beginning this is perfect. Let's just wait till she asks. I simile to myself. She's bound to find out anyway, since she'll understand that I'm a way top social person to be able to stay on a floor all by myself. Should I tell her that I'm so important that I need a separate floor for my deep and intelligent thoughts? Tell her that I in fact AM the CEO of the company? Now I even laugh at myself. She will of course never believe me, and it won't even be important to her. So why bother about that? Noooooo, I'll just wait with telling her that it's not my office, that's all. The important thing is actually what we're doing her, not who's office it is... Isn't it? Part 7 The message pings in about 20 minutes later, and my heart jumps of joy. "A visitor in the reception for Miss Ray." I take the elevator down and try to be as professional as I can in front of the front desk ladies, without being straight out distanced. Lana gets her card on her shirt and signs in with a slightly shaky hand. Once in the elevator, with its melancholically played 'Misty' piano tune, I hug her hard and passionately before I kiss her on both cheeks and tell her how much I've looked forward to see her again. She's a little startled about my transition from a cold professional to an overheated female predator, but she smiles her angelic smile up at me and my heart melt into a pound of hot, passionate love. I see my regular floor number pass by on the door display until we arrive at floor eleven. The door pings open, and I take my girl by the hand and bows in front of the sliding door as I gallantly guide her out into the conference room hallway. "Is this where you're working?" she asks with awe as she looks around with wide eyes. "Ummmmmmmmyes... yes," I stutter, not expecting to have to lie to her the first thing I do as I welcome her to my company. "This way, please." I guide her with a light touch at her spine and we walk the hallway down to the offices. I swing the door to my selected 'home-office' open and she gasps as she sees the elegant interior and the magnificent view from the windows. The sun just broke properly through, and its warm light form long strips onto the soft carpet behind the desk. "Nice, isn't it?" I ask as we both stand there in the open door, taking in the impressions. She nods and we both stay there for a moment, without moving. I realize it's supposed to be my office, and I stiffly walk around the huge desk and take my seat in the recliner. I even tap my keyboard key to get my screens up before I look up at her still standing in the door. "Please come in and sit down," I say, pointing to the interview chair on her side of the desk. She's just as stiff as me as she moves over to sit down, and the modest way she keeps her knees together is almost a little bit ridiculous considering the way we made heated love yesterday night. She seems to realize that too, and she smiles again and tries her best to let her shoulders down. Why is it so darn difficult to be unrestrained about love? We look at each other again, not knowing what to do next. I cannot ask and she cannot do. Should we just... Would she want to simply... Is it okay to do anything in here? "We can do anything in here," I say, trying to smile warmly and relaxed. I remember the door-opening control panel on the desk, and press the red button, locking the door. "It's safe now, and we're alone. How... did you sleep?" "Uh... good." She seems to be torn out of her own thoughts. "Was the breakfast okay? Did you like the tea I normally use?" "Yes... yes, it was good... it was perfect." She seems to get grip and relax more. Her smile is warm again, like my Lana. Warm and beautiful and the best and most lovable person ever. My Lana. We're silent for a moment again... looking at each other. Then we both, simultaneously, burst out laughing. A very relieving laughter, that gradually transfers in to a girlish giggle as we feel the intolerable tension slowly giving way to the same relaxed atmosphere of confidence we found together last night. "I look at her... intently. Searching for a clue in the depths of her beautiful eyes. We've talked about this so many times... fantasized about it... and now we're here. Can I just ask her? Tell her? Is she ready? Are we ready? Suddenly I feel the familiar wetness in my panties, the unmistakable sign that I'm ready indeed. It is like all the orgasms from last night are weeks away, and as I start to realize that even our ultimate dreams are about to become sheer and unadulterated reality, I cannot help gasping as the passion grips me right out of my slightly chilled state of previous nervousness. I can see that she can see it in my eyes, and her gaze flairs up as well, from slightly awkward discomfort to raging heat, a silent roar of resurrected passion. Without a word I get up from the chair and grip the waistband of my panties under my skirt. I pull them down and off my stockinged legs in a swift movement, and purposely leave them on the floor next to my chair. Then I sit back down again and look at her. "Lana, you know, I cannot sit very long like this... the back of my skirt will be stained. Will you... I'd like you to come over to me and... do something about it..." I manage to stop the 'please' that so naturally follows the end of my request. I don't want to ask, I want to tell. Because I know that that's what she wants. She rises slowly, almost too slowly. As she comes around the desk, I realize I have to push myself out to the edge of my recliner. The wetness is already out of control, and I either have to do that, or find some tissues to wipe myself down there. How's it possible to be so desperately horny in no time at all? When she kneels down in front of me I feel like I've destroyed everything. My black straps and garter belt were supposed to be a nice surprise to add to our common enjoyment. But now she can see almost everything at once because I have to push myself forward in order not to wet down the whole chair! The back of my skirt is now under my butt, wrinkled but safe, but the classy, very distinctly female undergarment is now just hidden by my closed legs. I realize I'm pressing them tightly together, afraid that once I open up, the dam is going to burst and I'll spill myself all over the place. But of course I have to open up... sooner or later... and the sooner the better... My new-gained confidence is shattered by this extremely annoying problem. Why on earth didn't I keep my panties on? I could have done this exactly as slowly and erotically as I had planned for. How should I do it now? I'm getting almost desperate as I feel the first sign of wetness seeping out of me, and I put a hand down in between my thighs in an instinctive move to try to plug the leak. But it's to no avail, of course, even when I try to squeeze my knees even tighter together. "Lana," I breath, "Uh..." I cannot help it. There's no other way! I abruptly open my thighs to her with my hand still frantically clutched over the seeping wetness of my pussy. "Please..." Here face is a mask of intense sexual arousal, and her mouth drops open as if on pure instinct. She flashes as split second glimpse up at me at my strained plead, before she swiftly moves forward to place her lips on the back of my hand. For a moment I'm afraid to take it away, but I realize, of course, that she's the only one who can help me out of this silly situation. As I put the other hand to the back of her head, I slowly slide my protective hand upwards to clear the path for her, feeling her wet lips trailing down along my fingers as I do. Then, as it's finally out of the way, the wetness bursts through, and I almost jerk the beautiful face in against me, all up to its ears - and beyond, in a clumsy attempt to keep it in control. She growls out of sheer joy as she opens up wide to take in all of my drenched vulva into her wonderful mouth, and I hear her swallow heavily as it fills with my uncontrolled passion. She does it exactly the way I need it, so completely perfectly in order for me to relax and get the feeling of being in control again. I feel deeply ashamed and overwhelmed at the same time, but as I come back to my senses once again, I know that she really don't mind drinking me, not even this way -- quite the contrary, in fact -- and if nothing else, this definitely is a token of my incredible passion to be served by her! And she knows it. Her jaw moves up and down in a rhythmic motion as she feeds on me to get on top of my very liquidized passionate tribute. Then her wonderful tongue scoops out and traces all the contours of my vulva with languid sweeps, and soon she has brought everything back to normal and I suddenly discover that I'm still holding on to the back of her head in a vice-like grip. I let go, of course, again a little ashamed of my instinctive selfishness, but she compensate by letting her hands slide in under my upper thighs to grip my hips right under the belt of my skirt to be able to keep herself pressed to me with the same delightful nearness as before. My Landlady Part 1. When I was 22 years old, I began boarding with a woman in a city distant from my hometown. I had just begun a new job, having been laid off for a few months in my own town. I was trying to rebuild my funds to pay for my own apartment and pay off some old bills. My mother had contacted an old friend and arranged for me to live with her until I got back on my feet financially. I was obsessed then with females of any kind. Mary, older than me, was certainly not a sex goddess. She was a bit more than twice my age and was very matronly in form with wide hips and large, pendulous breasts. Her only child, a daughter, was working and living in California. Mary was also a widow of more than five years, and my board payments helped her increase her income from her own wages. What shocked me, when I arrived, was that Mary bore a very strong resemblance to my own mother. She laughed when I mentioned this to her and told me that people used to think that she and my mother were sisters when they were young girls. Within a few days of moving in, I perceived that Mary was treating me like her own child, increasing the motherly image in my mind. "Do you mind if I call you 'son?' instead of Walter," Mary asked one day while setting out our breakfast. "No, not at all, but why?" I replied. "I always wanted a little boy, but I had only my daughter." "Could I call you 'mom'?" I asked; an inner perversity had caused me to ask for that right. Just a slight pause, then she said, "Of course, son." I had recently read some stories about younger guys and older women having sex; some even dealt with guys fucking their own mothers. I was fantasizing at times about having sex with Mary, and I would let my eyes roam over her when she wasn't looking. All I dared was look because I was afraid that she would kick me out and tell my mother if I tried anything. Perhaps I was attracted to her because I had no friends yet, male or female, in this new city. My former girlfriend had split soon after I had been laid off. I was horny as hell, I was obsessed with Mary, and I constantly thought about pressing myself against her ample naked curves. These evil thoughts only increased my horniness and helped me masturbate with greater pleasure, and now we were "mom" and "son." When Mary would serve our supper in her kitchen, I would sneak looks at her while pretending to read the paper. I could watch her body move under her clothing as she bent, reached, and turned. Breakfast was even better. She was always in a robe over a thin nightgown with bare legs and feet. Just two thin garments lay between my eyes and her naked body, and I could detect large nipples under the cloth. Sometimes I had trouble rising from the table due to an immense boner. We had somehow started referring to each other as "mommy" and "my baby boy." I could imagine her large breasts hanging over my face as she rode my hard cock. Mary probably had giant nipples, like thumbs, that I could latch my mouth onto. She could suffocate me with those large, soft boobs, and I would die willingly in a state of erotic bliss. Her mothering me and her resemblance to my own mother gave my obsession a stimulating incestuous twist. I realized quickly that this made my fantasy even more exciting. My lust was driving me nuts. I had to have her soon, no matter what the risk. I even began to think of ways to rape her or drug her and schemed how I could get away with it. Mary was a quiet, somewhat reclusive woman, and other than her work, she never got out much except for shopping or a dinner and movie with a few lady friends. She had never married again because she was a bit shy and didn't take many opportunities to meet men. She would often tell me that one friend or another would talk about fixing her up with someone, but she would always say that she believed herself to be too unattractive. If she had only known her effect on me! I imagined that Mary needed to have her pussy opened up again, like a virgin, after so many years of disuse. My fantasy now contained the double excitement of fucking both my new mother and a virgin at the same time. Mary had occasional headaches, and I began offering to massage her neck and shoulders to help drive them off. My eager manipulations were, although amateurish, successful, and soon my hands roved over her neck, shoulders, and back whenever she needed my attention. Usually Mary would be seated for these massages, but occasionally she would be standing and I would be pressed against her back. By keeping my mind on my fingers, I avoided probing her buttocks with my hardening cock. Mary, having lived alone for so long, often bathed or dressed with doors partly opened. If I were careful, I could see her now and then as she undressed or washed herself. A couple of times I could see her in the tub from the crack of my door. I would masturbate there, watching her wash her body and shooting my load onto the back of the door. My obsession was really driving me crazy, I began jerking off a couple of times a night, and I just couldn't get her out of my mind. I didn't care about the young babes any more. I was awakened in the middle of the night by the light in the bathroom. When I pushed open the door, Mary was standing there pressing a wet washcloth against her head. I noticed that she was dressed only in a thin nightgown, which clung to her curvy body, showing me the heavenly shapes beneath. "Baby, my head hurts again. Could you please rub my neck for a while?" she whispered, seeing me standing there. "Of course, mommy," I answered. I moved behind her and began kneading her neck. We were now both facing the mirror over the sink, and I could see her eyes were closed as she enjoyed my fingers on her neck. After a few minutes, Mary began to make little purring noises, and my fingers roved widely over new areas of her soft, smooth skin. "My baby boy, you always make me feel so good," she sighed. "Yes, mommy dear." I slipped my hands inside the top of her nightgown to extend my massage to her soft shoulders. Mary leaned back against me. Up until then my cock was behaving, but her ass, brushing against it through my thin pajamas as she shifted her balance, was causing my penis to become increasingly erect. "This is so good, baby boy. Am I bothering you too much by asking you to do this?" she asked. She was bothering me; she was definitely bothering me. I answered, "No, mommy, I don't mind, so long as it makes you feel better." My hands and fingers kept working her soft flesh. "I love you so much, mommy; I want you to feel good." Suddenly she leaned forward, causing her ass to press hard against me. I felt my hard cock slip between the cheeks of her ass. "Oh!" she gasped. "I'm sorry, baby; I lost my balance." "It's OK," I answered, but my cock sprang out through the fly of my pajama bottoms. Before I could do anything about it, she turned toward me and then lowered her eyes to my crotch, which now had a large, fleshy hook for her to see. I felt my face flush, but Mary's eyes were staring at my cock. "I'm sorry..." I started to say, but Mary interrupted me. "I didn't know that I was having this effect on you," she said. Now she looked up at me face, examining my expression. "Yes," I replied. "You are a sexy, lovely woman." "Do you actually think I'm attractive?" "You are driving me crazy with desire." "Really?" "Yes, mommy, really. I'm crazy for you because you are so beautiful. I want you; I want you now." There, now it was finally out in the open, and I didn't care. She stood there silently for a moment. Then she lifted her hands to the top of her nightgown and undid a bow. The gown, assisted by a few wriggles, slid down her body and lay crumpled at her feet. I had been right; her erect nipples were as big as thumbs and jutted out from her rosy areolas, making my mouth water in anticipation. "Now do you want to have sex with me?" she asked. "Now that you can see my sad, old body, do you still want me?" I stepped back and looked her up and down. I saw her fleshy thighs, her protuberant belly, her thick pubic hair, her soft, drooping breasts, and her anxious, pretty face. She was all I had imagined her to be. I wanted her so bad. "If you only knew how much I have wanted you," I replied. I let my pajama bottoms join her nightgown on the floor and lifted my top off. I could see her eyes examining me. I put my arms around her and hugged her to me. Our naked flesh met at last. "More than anything else in the whole world," I whispered. "I love you so much, mommy." Her face turned up to mine, and we kissed lightly, then more deeply. My hands were stroking her back. Her hands clutched me against her tightly, and I felt her shudder. At last she pushed me back, so she could look into my face again. She was silent for a moment. "You understand, my baby boy," she said, "that no one must ever know about this." "This if our special love," I replied. "This is between you and me, and no one need ever know of it." She smiled at me. "Then it is all right," she said in a quiet whisper, but the calm of her voice did not match the emotion in her face. "I can't become pregnant," she said. "We must be so careful. I can't let you enter me tonight; we might make a baby." I looked at her face and she lowered her gaze. She could see my cock pointing right at her eyes. I knew that she wanted it inside her as much as I did. I did love her, and my fertile cock could do harm to her. I could never permit that. "We will need to be very careful then," I promised. I knelt before her, reached up with my lips and took a big nipple into my mouth. I massaged her ass with one hand and fondled her second breast with the other. Mary leaned into me and put her hands on my head, fluffing and stroking my hair. After I turned my mouth to her second nipple, she began to moan faintly. I let my hand slide down the crack of her buttocks and slipped it between her legs. Mary slid a foot across the floor to spread her legs farther apart. "You are making me feel so good, my baby," she said while she caressed my head and shoulders. "Am I being a good mommy to you?" she asked. Her words were revealing something to me. Perhaps she also had the same incestuous thoughts. "Mmmmm," I replied, nodding my head yes as I filled my mouth with her soft tit. My fingers were now between her damp labia, stroking her inner lips and probing her vagina. "Oh, my baby, this is so bad, so wicked, but so awfully good," Mary moaned as my fingers and lips stimulated her. I knew something really bad I wanted to do. I picked her up and put her down, seated on the counter edge, and began kissing her pussy. I felt her hands grab my hair. "Baby, no! What are you... oh, my god... ohhh... ohhhhh!" Before she could object further, I was well into lapping her wet cunt. Soon the fingers, which had started to pull me away, were pushing my face against her furry mound. Her curvy legs lifted and wrapped around my head, her heels digging into my back. My lips and tongue worked her sweet pussy enthusiastically. "OH! OH! OHHHH! AAAGGHHHH" she cried and became rigid. I had not yet finished with her and stroked her pussy again and again with my tongue lapping up her sweet juices. Mary grunted and shook a few more times as I ate her out. Finally, Mary, gasped, "Oh god, my sweet baby... I can't take any more... I'm not used to this." I gave her one last lick across her clitoris before pulling away, feeling her body shudder. I kissed and kissed her inner thighs. Mary stroked my head. "I love you so much, mommy," I murmured. "I've never done that before," she admitted quietly, "but it was so good. It seemed so vulgar, but I couldn't stop you." "I've heard that many women really like it, so I wanted you to experience the pleasure of my lips on your pussy," I answered. "We can enjoy each other with our mouths, and no babies will ever happen." I was gently caressing her body. "Can I please you somehow?" she asked. Mary, I realized, had somehow been sheltered from the arts of love. "I want you to suck my penis, mommy," I said. Mary acted surprised. "You want to put it into my mouth?" she asked. I nodded yes. I helped her down from the vanity counter and then pressed on her shoulders. Mary understood; she knelt down in front of me. She took my penis in one hand and my balls in the other, looking up at me, not understanding my need. "Suck me, mommy; suck me off with your lovely mouth. I whispered. I edged my hips toward her, placing my cockhead just in front of her lips, urging her on. She took the head into her mouth and start sucking and laving me with her tongue. As I directed her, she took me in deeper and then licked me like an ice cream pop. After I had suffered enough, I had her wank on me while she sucked. With a loud groan I began to squirt my semen into her mouth. Mary gulped down each spurt and sucked all my cum out. Finally I eased her mouth from my waning cock. "Was that good, my baby?" Mary asked as I pulled her up to me and hugged her close. "Oh god, yes, mommy," answered. I kissed her lips, and she probed my mouth with her tongue, now flavored with my semen. "I like this new game, baby boy," she said. "Come on to bed now; we need to get up for work in a few hours." She led me to her bed, leaving our nightclothes on the floor. Soon we were asleep once again, nestled together. My Landlady My divorce really put me off ever having a permanent relationship with another woman. The courts were so obviously biased in favour of the woman even although she was the guilty party that I swore I would never go through this again. I had to sell the home that was given to me by my parents as that was the only way I could pay the lump sum the courts demanded I pay my wife. It did her no good either, for two weeks later she was killed in a car crash, in the sports car she had bought herself with the money. From that day I knew someone was working in my corner. After the house was sold I took rooms in an old friend's wife's home. He had died only a short time before when he was in his seventies and was a lot older than his wife, but she was no spring chicken. She was afraid to live in the big house all on her own and offered me the rooms. Maria was Spanish and had that lovely Latin look about her, her long hair was tied up in two buns either side of her head. But she dressed in the traditional country Spanish dress which looked odd in this modern age. Five years, I have lodged with Mrs Gomez; I have my own suite consisting of a bedroom, lounge and bathroom, it is all I need. In the evenings I usually go and sit with her and watch TV for an hour or so but other than that and Tuesdays when I take her to the shops we don't socialise. Her English isn't the best even although she has been in this country for over thirty years. I've had a few departmental trysts with other female members, but only for sex, there were no long or suggested partnerships. At the age of 34 I was getting less sex than my age group but enough to stop me abusing myself. Anyway enough of the background; about six months ago Maria started calling me Juan and talking to me about things I knew nothing about. I just sat and agreed with her, maybe I shouldn't have, but it was the easiest way out of the problem. Also she started to forget things that happened in the short term and become confused with dates etc. I was that worried that I took her to see her doctor, who told me she was in the early stages of dementia, physically she was almost 100% it was just the mental thing. As she had no children or relatives that I knew of, it was left to me to take care of her. So now instead of an hour I was spending all the time I was off in her company. The only thing wrong with this was that she no longer called me by my name, but the name of her dead husband, the strangest thing, only in the afternoons. In the mornings she was her old self and as she got tired, the memory seemed to go and she slipped back to a time span in the past. The whole thing came to a head one warm summer's night as I lay naked asleep on my bed, stretched out lying on my back. I was suddenly woken by a weight on my hips and when I opened my eyes Maria who was in her early sixties was impaled on my rigid cock smiling down at me with her hair flowing down over her naked breasts. The feeling I had was sensational buried in a moist and warm pussy and being woken in this situation was something I had never experienced before. "Do you like this Juan, do you still love your Maria?" she asked whilst sliding up and down my shaft, gripping it in her velvety passage. "Yes that is lovely Maria, but I'm not Juan," I said, but I must admit the last bit was said rather quietly for I was loving this unexpected pleasure. "Why don't we do this more often, what have I done to offend you Juan?" she asked looking straight at me. "As often as you want Maria, God I think you are fantastic," I said playing along with her. "You always said I was the best fuck you ever had Juan, do you still think so?" I reached up and parted the hair hanging down her chest to take a look at her breasts and what I saw would have made any woman younger than her envious at the lovely firm breasts she had on her body. The aureoles were easily 3 inches in diameter with her nipples standing out about half an inch and as thick as a pencil, dark brown against her olive skin. I had never seen her body because of the baggy dresses she usually wore, but now I took her hands in mine and opened them out and really took a good look. She was still moving her body up and down my shaft and I was admiring her at the same time. How could a body like this be impaled on my cock I wondered, she looked delectable. The inevitable happened I just spurted my load into her and she lay down on top of me pressing her hair covered breasts onto my chest as I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight. Man she felt great as I held her, to think all this time I had been living here and here was this delectable piece of womanhood hidden by the dresses she wore. I thought I would have felt a heel taking advantage of her mental state but I had no such feelings. Gradually I felt myself getting hard again for she was gripping and releasing her muscles and it was just like being massaged. Maria sat up and started pumping herself on my now erect cock once more. After about a couple of minutes she stopped and just looked at me. "You're not my Juan! Oh Peter what am I doing, I thought you were Juan," she said with her hand to her mouth and the other across her breasts. "Maria, I don't know who you think I am but you're sure one good looking woman and I have no objection at all for what you are doing." God I was putting the blame on her, but after all she was the one who came and impaled herself on my cock, I just lay back and enjoyed it. Even although she knew it wasn't her Juan she still sat there with my cock firmly held in her warm womanhood "You don't mind Peter, want me to continue?" "Maria I don't want you ever to stop," I shot back. I rolled her over and now I was between her legs and looking down at her spread-eagled beneath me. Her hair no longer covered her breasts and I lowered my lips to the proud nipple and sucked it into my mouth. Her hand came up and she held me to her by pressing on the back of my head. I disengaged my mouth reluctantly from her breast and slid both hands under her soft bottom and raised her hips up making my entry easier as I slid my cock into her eagerly waiting body. Now I am no small built man but God she took me so easily as I pounded my meat into her willing flesh. "I think you are really fantastic Maria," I said meaning every word. "We do this every night now. I really like you Peter and you make me feel so happy," she said whilst thrusting her body into mine. "Anytime Maria, wow anytime you want," I said in return, loving the feel of this silky passage clasping my cock as I sink in to her depths. Now I had no need to go hunting for relief, I now had a willing sex partner without any of the attached hassles and no fear of pregnancies or competition. El trabajo está terminado Adios My Landlady "So, you understand the Terms & Conditions of your stay?" She asked the quiet young man across the table as he finished his Coke and stared at the contract before him. "Yes ma'am, I do." His south Texas drawl was soft for such a big man. He picked up the pen next to the document dated it and scrawled a barely legible signature across the bottom of the page. "Last chance now 'boy." She emphasized the word boy in her special tone. "You are all mine for one week, thereafter on a week by week basis, your service is to be 24/7 all under my instruction and control. You will have a room, the one you have seen, and that is all. So either get up and leave right now before the ink dries on this contract or get up and strip and put all your clothes in the box in the next chair." He paused for but a moment then stood and removed his clothes. As he stripped he could not help but glance over at his new owner for any reactions. He was fairly muscular and rather well hung, he thought. This, with his long hair, in a ponytail as usual, generally got the women in his life hungering for him. His clothes he carefully folded and put in the box. They were not much, but they were his. The past year had not been kind to him. He had gone through two jobs after his last girlfriend had left in a huff. He seemed to just drift with no direction. It wasn't that he didn't have the brains or the skills, he just lacked motivation and will. This setup in Phoenix seemed ideal. Free room and board and all he had to do was take care of the place and once in a while jump the old girls bones. Hell, she was even good looking in an older sort of way. Very well preserved he thought as his gaze crossed over her lovely legs and took in again the set of breasts that he had been noticing ever since he walked in the door. Here, he thought, I can get my head together, have some sexy fun and then when I am ready I can move easily without any encumbrances. B&D? S&M? He had gotten around those issues by making stuff up as he went through the interview. Hell, she would never mess with him anyway, she was just a little old dreamer. She watched as he put his past life away in the box. He was not nearly the stud he thought he was. And 'really', did he think she was daft in the head? She had caught him out in minutes during the interview. Of course she had been questioning his honesty ever since reading the resume he had sent. Subtle research and a few questions with relatives in the area he came from served to satisfy her of his real situation though and she felt he could be molded. She smiled though as she wondered if he would survive the molding process. When done he turned to look at her and receive his first instructions. "Seal the box with the strapping tape and put it by the door for now boy." Taking the tape he sealed the box well and placed it at the door near his two suitcases, garment and gym bags. "Those will be attended to later boy. For now come here and lie down." He moved to do so and placed his head, as directed, near her shoes. "You may begin by licking the soles of my shoes and then the heels, when you are finished you may remove them and massage my feet. I want you to kiss my peds, lick them and smell them deeply as you massage them. Is that all clearly understood boy?" She finished and without waiting for a reply she placed her 3" heel directly on his face and picked up the phone. As he started in on the shoes he thought to himself, "Not too bad, I can handle this." In the meantime the phone conversation went on above him. Over his head, so to speak. "Yes dear I am all set here." "No, the project will move along as planned and I expect no troubles whatsoever." "Of course sweetheart, I will have insurance that will secure me." "Yes, if you could take the rubbish out later that would be fine." Piece of cake he thought. No rubbish duties, and the lady was getting more insurance. Who knows, he thought, as the first shoe came off and the smell of well worn nylons engulfed his senses smothering him with womanly earth scents, maybe I can work just enough to have her list me as the beneficiary. Now that her phone call was done she was ready to teach this young boy how to really work with a Lady, all he was doing right now was getting her foot wet, hardly good foot worship at all. No tongue between her toes, no sucking of each digit like the little cock just some of many of hers he would have to get used to. So much work, so little time. "Up boy." She spoke abruptly, commandingly, after all she now owned his ass. Once standing she had him spread his arms and legs and then with a flirtatious smile began to run her strong hands over his body. Soon he was aroused and that was what she was waiting for. She started rubbing a soothing, warming lotion over his whole body. Legs, arm, chest, buttocks, every crack and crevice was thickly covered with the gel. He never even noticed, his head tipped back in an erotic fantasy of his own, that she was now wearing thin surgical gloves as she spread the permanent depilatory over his frame. However, soon he noticed the soothing rub and the warming lotion were getting too warm, almost hot to the touch. Then it became really uncomfortable and he looked at the lady and saw her little malicious smile looking back at him. "Quickly boy, move into your bathroom." She shooed him away slapping him almost playfully on the buttocks, almost playfully. He had never realized that his attached bathroom was so specially outfitted as she pointed him into a corner. He now noticed that there was no conventional showerhead in the enameled and tiled area only a powerful hose setup. This she began to unreel off the spool and then pointing the nozzle directly at him began to rinse his body with a blasting spray. "Spread those legs boy." She commanded and when he hesitated she continued, "Better to let me clean you with this than to develop the blisters that will come if you don't let me get it off." Reluctantly he complied and soon the hard stream was crushing his balls and bruising his cock. She made him peel back the skin over the head so as to thoroughly cleanse the entire area. Then he was turned about and the spray went down his crack almost forcing itself inside his anus like an enema. Speaking of which, he now noticed, in a quiet moment, that his landlady was hanging a full bag from one of the many hooks 'decorating' the walls and attached to it was a sizeable enema nozzle. "Assume the position." Legs spread and arms against the wall he waited as she approached and then felt the nozzle pressed against his rectum. Slowly, firmly, it penetrated him and he was so embarrassed. Yet he would go along with this, he had agreed to it and after all, he had been through enemas before in the hospital. "You will be cleansed now inside my boy. This is a one-gallon enema bag. You will take half now, half again and then one full gallon. The mixture is my own concoction of salts, soaps and unguents that causes certain scrubbing sensation you will come to enjoy, for I insist on assholes being clean." She laughed as she opened the clamp and let the fluid fill her new tenant, her slave. The mixture bubbled and churned inside of him, scrubbing the walls of his colon and filling him with a flatulence he had never felt before in his life. Soon he was begging for release, the words music to her ears. Finally when release was granted it was again before her and the release was loud, embarrassingly so, and smelly and just plain disgusting. She however, just kept on with her stated plans and soon he had endured the next enemas as well, followed by a hard cleansing again with the iron hard spray of his shower. At last the trial seemed over and he looked at his denuded body, red and sore from the water beating, sore inside from the enemas and he felt spent. He was so tired and he felt as if he had been beat on for hours. "Now boy come here." More directions to follow, it was all he could do to even move. His head was spinning. He was not certain of anything. She smiled delightedly as he allowed her to dress him in the female clothes she had picked out. The small amount of alcohol in the enema had gone directly into his bloodstream and the research she had done bore fruit in his complacency. He was a tired, winsome drunk. Of course the physical stress of the shower, the depilatory and the enemas had taken their toll as well. The flesh colored teats glued to his chest looked real, even in normal light and the earrings, garter belt, stockings and 'fuck-me' heels made him look like a real TV. His hair had dried and she had made it fluff as well as applied a bit of make-up. Here she could have used his cooperation but the boy was indeed a bit tired. She smiled at the results of her efforts. Next out came a camera, the slave had not realized that every moment of his life was being taped and recorded. This was done thanks to his predecessor and that one also had the ability to professionally edit this into ANYthing she wanted it to look like. For now though she placed limbs thus so and used the toys of her liking, a large dildo for instance stuck between rouged lips, even with his eyelids closed merely made it look like she was in rapturous ecstasy. In his stupor he was easily positioned against the wall, bent over head facing back between his legs, ankles spread, in a "come and take my ass" look, especially with the seams of his stockings so straight. The addition of a realistic looking and VERY large dildo up his ass was hardly noticed by the slave, certainly he was not in a position to refuse. The picture with the dildo half-in and half-out told the whole story. Ultimately she led him to his bed and removed the comforter. He would never being using it anyway. This revealed a very sturdy cast iron bed with welded rings around the head and foot boards. Other features were out of sight for the moment but would come into play later. For now she laid him on his back and secured his hands and feet to the corners most competently. Patting his rosy cheek she left him to recover. Moments after making a call the door opened and two women came in and greeted the landlady with a mixture of deference and eagerness. One of the ladies was perhaps 20 and the other well over sixty, but a spry sixty from the glint in her eyes. Coffee awaited them at the table and all three sat down to discuss the new project. After they finished talking the young lady rose and took the man's bags out to his car. She then drove off to a secluded garage area and locked the car and its possessions away. Walking back to the apartments she couldn't help smiling and thinking of what her aunt had in mind for this new 'tenant'. She was glad school was out for the next two days and she smiled more as she felt her thighs dampen in her anticipation. She quickened her stride as she realized he was going to be up in about 4 hours and they still had things to prepare. Monday morning.. He woke to the feeling of heavy thighs sliding over his face. His arm and leg muscles had atrophied from the night of bondage and he felt as if he could barely move. He knew to open his mouth and greet the warm pussy settling about him with his tongue, still sore from the previous day's activities. "Now boy," She began, "this is your first wake-up call.I have saved my toilet for you. Be certain not miss a drop dear. For this first session I will go slow with you." She began to release herself in short steady spurts, placing small pauses between them. This control exercised muscles that inevitably made her hot and by the time she was finished she was frantically riding his face in wanton passion. Always controlled in the presence of her friends alone she was a sexual tigress. Her appetite was virtually insatiable which was why the 24/7 servitude arrangement was specifically mentioned in her ad. The boy was hardly ready for her climax, for when she did she came copiously, gushing cum all over his imprisoned face. Unprepared he had no way to keep up with the volume that swamped his senses. When she was done she rose and let her night dress fall and cover her. Turning to his bonds she released him, and in a display of kindness actually rubbed the blood back into his extremities. Eventually he sat up and then, with her assistance, stood up and stretched his body out completely. Before he could get too comfortable she led him to the bath area and had him strip off the feminine apparel and complete his morning ablutions. These however had the one added chore of taking his enemas. "You know my sweet pet," she began to inform him, "These enemas can be terribly habit forming. In fact, after regular usage there will come a time when you will be dependent upon them. Isn't that interesting. Something you will always remember me by boy." Her evil smile tore into his brain as his bowels emptied into the bowl. Then it was time once more for his 'shower' and once more the forceful spray beat him near unconscious. Then he was led to the bed and allowed to stretch out on its frame. During his recovery he could feel her manipulating his manhood and family jewels. He smiled in exhaustion, to beat to even care. That is until he heard a soft 'click' and then his limbs shot straight out from his body and a mighty "GOD DAMN" was torn forcibly from his lungs. Thereafter he immediately went into a fetal position, his body shaking uncontrollably, bile rising in the back of his throat. Involuntarily his hands reached down to cup his scorched balls, not expecting to find them, only to find them still there and apparently well, though bound now by a sterling metal ring and small metal box. "Boy, what you just felt was setting three of ten on this remote unit. The effective distance is about 100 yards." " Of course then what happens is that the unit just fires off repeatedly at its highest setting until the battery unit expends itself." " Maybe 15 to 20 minutes under a full charge. Certainly enough to complete fry your balls." "You see this is a modified Taser unit delivering around 75,000 volts. You just felt maybe 25,000 tops." "There are three of these Behavioral Modification Control Units and each of your new owners has one in their possession. Breaking one, or all, causes the override feature to take effect as well." She sat next to him on the bed and continued. "So let me summarize for you boy. Do you understand what I am telling you?" She jostled his arm and heard his faint, almost sobbing 'yes' in response. "There, there boy. You are all right, for now." She turned his naked body over and spread his arms away from his scrotum. She then began softly massaging the tender flesh as she told him his circumstances. "So you must understand there is no running away. This box and band are locked on with a special pick-proof lock the key for which is no where on the premises." "They are also electronically daisy chained and so stealing one does you no good, get beyond 300 feet from two units and your balls will fry." To punctuate that comment she squeezed his balls hard and grinned as he squirmed in her grasp. "And as to running, that is what you will have to do. You see your car is nowhere to be found.: "As for my transportation I have those that run and fetch for me or will come and take me out if required. But I am perfectly happy to remain here at home and have you care for and pamper me." "Lastly, you also have no male attire to wear. All your clothes were disposed of yesterday while you slept." "You will find in your small closet and dresser all the clothes you will need while you remain here." "All distinctly feminine in nature. I doubt you would want to be seen in public dressed in them. Not yet anyway." She rose from the bed and walked to the closet and dresser gathering certain items from each. Motioning for him to rise she held the items out him one at a time and had he don them. Soon he stood before her in red. Red sheer bustier, red skimpy panties and red thigh highs. Now she directed him to the corner setting. There he sat, as instructed, before a lady's vanity complete with all manner of make-up and basic jewelry. His head nodded forward in tiredness, SMACK, SMACK, twice she slapped him upside the head to gain his attention. "PAY ATTENTION BOY!" she shouted at him, not loudly, but intensely and for reason that all the more scary to him. "I will, I will pay attention." He murmured ducking an anticipated blow that never fell. "You will be told this once, demonstrated once and then Lady Atheris, on her next visit with you will help you ONCE." "Thereafter you will be expected to fix your make-up perfectly each day." "You also have a video, the only one you have I might add, that covers make-up techniques and acting like a young lady. How to walk, to talk, to sit, to stand, basic proper decorum and manners." "In short, from now on you will be treated and used as a slut but expected to conduct yourself as a lady. Do you comprehend all of this?" She asked him, turning his face to her so she could look him directly in the eyes. His shoulders slumped in defeat as it finally registered within him. What had he done? What had he gotten himself into? He was caught, he tried to think, but couldn't come up with a means of escaping these devil women. His eyes left hers, falling towards the floor, as he told her "Yes." "Good. Then let us begin for you need to start breakfast soon. I am famished after last night." She kept up a constant dialogue as first she took a small gun-like instrument from a drawer and pierced his ears. The piercings she quickly filled with fashionably small zirconium studs. Next she took a set of specially made 'permanent' nails from the drawer. In addition to their own adhesive she applied a small drop of SuperGlue. She showed him how to form the nails, apply a sealing coat, then a base coat and finally a top coat. During this transformation process she talked with him, and treated him like a girlfriend. Here in this woman's world, his own little corner, he was safe. The transforming was not complete though. His face needed work. She began with a small sponge and a creamy base. This was smoothed over his entire face rather thickly. Next powder was applied and highlighter to accentuate his cheekbones and reduce skin glare. A bit of eye-shadow and lip lining followed by a red gloss and he was almost ready. Standing behind him now she took his new brush and pulled it through his hair, his tresses. He was staring at himself in the mirror. He could not believe it, where did I go? He could only stare and wonder to himself. The somewhat good looking woman staring back at him looked lost. Above him Lady C watched the process take place and smiled in a most satisfied and devilish way. My Landlady My life fell apart after Karen's death. I went in to nearly total seclusion. I met her at the State University campus in North West Ohio and fell in love with her. She was a beautiful and vivacious young woman. After dating two years, she agreed to become my wife, Mrs. Tim Larson. She would tell me that our children would have brown hair and brown eyes, like me. We bought a nice house just before getting married. Two years after we got married, we were planning on starting a family, when she was killed by a drunk driver who was driving the wrong way at a high speed; she was going to work early that morning. Two years after Karen's death, her older sister suggested I move to Central Florida because her former neighbors, Anne and Fred Oster, an older couple, who moved there, liked the area. Further, she suggested I may be able to rent a room in their home. After I sold my home, I moved to Central Florida. With the money from selling my home and the life insurance payment on Karen, I felt I could live without working fulltime for couple of years and get my life in order; perhaps, try my hand at being a writer. I met Anne and Fred at their home in a town outside Orlando. Anne was an attractive woman with light-blue eyes and blonde-gray wavy hair, about 45 years old; later, I learned she was 47 years. Fred was older than her, by about 15 years, and used a wheel chair to get around with Anne's help. Anne, who was 5-ft, 5-in, and about 130 lb., looked vaguely familiar, but I was not sure where I met her. Luckily, as my sister suggested, Anne and Fred had a studio apartment they were glad to rent to me. The one large room was airy with large widows and it had a separate entrance. It was also connected by a door to the much larger section in which Anne and Fred lived. At the rear of their home, there was a two-section ramp for Fred's wheel chair. At the back of the property, there was a small pond, which was home to a few water fowl; when Anne saw me taking photos of the birds, she said, "Please take photos of Fred also." On the other side of the pond, there was a home with tall trees on two sides. A hedge on Fred's property provided good privacy for Fred and Anne. I saw a lady about 55 years old hanging wet clothes on a line. Between the clothes line and the home, there was a swing for, I assumed, the lady's grandchildren. Fred explained, "That's Sara, a retired music teacher. She still offers piano lessons, but not during the summer. She is a friend of Anne." ---- One evening, Anne and Fred invited me out to dinner to a diner. Anne drove us in a handicap-accessible van. It was a warm evening and Anne wore a white sleeve-less halter top and beige shorts; she also had on light make up, costume jewelry: short, dangling ear rings, and a necklace. During dinner, I learned that Anne retired after teaching English and that she had a 26 year-old daughter, Jess, a nurse, who has a four-year-old son, and a fiancée. Fred retired after teaching Physical Education and coaching the boys' basketball team. It was second marriage for both of them. Fred suffered a stroke and began to use a wheel chair. I complemented Anne on speaking English with no accent, even though she was about ten years old when she and her family moved to the USA from Norway. Fred spoke with difficulty and had to be fed by Anne. Anne asked me numerous questions about Karen and my interests. After dinner, we went to a park where Fred was able to enjoy the fresh air; Anne was glad I wanted to push Fred's wheel chair. I took several photos of Fred and of Anne, especially when she was on a swing. I got a glimpse of her panties when her skirt went up while swinging; she blushed when she saw me staring at her crotch, but opened her legs a bit wide to give me a better peek. Later, Anne said, "I am working out at the club, but still need to watch what I eat. Do you exercise?" "I have resumed running and just about reached my weight goal of 170 lb. on my 6-foot, 2-in, frame." "My club has several young women members." "I like to swim, but I am not yet ready to meet young women." Fred interjected, "You can go to our club as a guest." Late in the evening, as Anne drove home, she said, "Would you like to have a cup of coffee or something stronger?" "Like what?" "Scotch on the rocks, Fred's favorite drink." "Sure." As we were sipping our drinks and talking, Anne noticed Fred was nodding off, and said, "It's Fred's bed time," and wheeled him to the bedroom. When she returned, I was looking at the photos on a long table, and said to her, "You and Fred were a handsome couple." "Fred was a very handsome man. I miss that man I married," and tears welled up in her eyes. I said, "I'm sorry," and, as I gently pulled her towards me, she sobbed softly and hugged me. I tried to break away from her embrace, but she held on to me in a bear hug, and whispered, "Please hold me for a few minutes." I felt Anne's large boobs pressing against my chest and, being celibate for a long time, my cock became very stiff immediately. I was hoping Anne would not feel my hard on, but she didn't seem to care and pressed her lower belly against my stiff cock. She planted small kisses on my neck. I tilted her head up, wiped her tears, and softly kissed her red lipstick-coated lips. Anne returned my soft kiss with a long, passionate, kiss; she also slid her right hand to my crotch and grasped my cock lump. Slowly, Anne slipped out of my embrace, and said, "I'm sorry. This is going too fast. Actually, you're the first man I hugged passionately since Fred's stroke two years ago. I don't even know if you like me." I said, "You're a very attractive woman. I like you lots, but I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. I know you love Fred. I'm sorry he is not the person you married." Anne said, "I like you, too. I also know that Fred will not become the man he was before his stroke. I don't want anyone to find out that I like you." "I won't tell anyone about us. I promise," and left for my room quickly. ---- Twice a week, a physical therapist and an aide came to work with Fred for about four hours; that was when Anne got her shopping and other chores done. One day, when the weather was nice, I drove Anne and Fred to their club. At the club, we all lounged by the pool in our swimming gear. After changing in to a two-piece bikini, Anne got in to the swimming pool. While Anne swam, Fred and I talked about the latest sports news; Fred knew a lot about sports, especially about basketball. Using the zoom lens of my camera I took several photos of Anne in her skimpy bikini: narrow waist, wide hips, still flat tummy, shiny skin, and succulent boobs. My cock got stiff watching Anne in her wet, clinging, bikini Anne called to me, "Tim, I'm ready to get out. Please bring my towel." Holding the towel in front of me to cover up my erection in my swimming trunks, I walked over to Anne. After she took the towel from me, Anne saw the tent my cock had caused in my trunks, and smiling whispered, "Looks like you like my bikini," making me blush. It was Anne's turn to blush, when I said boldly, "I would like to see the puppies covered up by the bikini top." "May be you will get lucky; until then, dream about them. In case you are wondering, they are 36DD." She blushed when I whispered, "They are magnificent." ----- I had finished a long article for a national magazine and decided to take a day off. I agreed to drive Anne and Fred to a morning appointment at a clinic. After Fred's appointment, we picked up take out lunches, and returned home before midday. After lunch, Fred said, "I'm tired. I need to rest." Anne said, "I need to change in to comfortable clothes and do a load of laundry." A short time later Anne returned dressed in skimpy shorts and a low-cut tank top, her lips painted red, hair pulled back, and carrying a hamper full of dirty clothes, and said, "Fred is already asleep." "I'll carry the hamper," and followed her to the laundry room. As she loaded the washer, she bent down and stuck her sexy ass out. I whispered, "You look too sexy." "You are pretty sexy yourself," and, while pressing her pillowy boobs against my back, hugged me tightly from behind. Slowly, I turned around to face Anne, hugged her, and planted numerous passionate kisses on her neck and sexy cleavage. Gently pushing me away, Anne said, "I changed my mind about us and decided to give you another chance. I worried about loving a younger man. But, I think I'll able to keep you satisfied." "Yes, you're the perfect woman for me." "I was moved watching Sara, my neighbor and friend, loving her young boyfriend. His name is Ron. I was doing yard work near the hedge at the back. Being several feet away, I could see some of what was going on. I wish I had been lot closer to see more and hear the two lovers." "I know Ron well. He owns a landscaping business. Fred mentioned that Sara is about 55 years old." Anne said, "Sara is my friend. She has a good body as a result of exercising several hours a week and plastic surgery. Anyway, Ron is about 20 years younger than her. He has been coming to her home for about a year." I said, "I saw Ron last year at the Thirsty Owl bar. He was depressed after his wife left him. One year later he told me he met Sara, a special lady. He said she was a divorcee 20 years older than she looks and that much older than him. With Ron's encouragement, Sara had breast augmentation surgery. He confided that he is turned on looking at Sara's big boobs and the small wrinkles on her neck, arms, legs, thighs, and pussy. When she wants him to fuck her, she goes bra-less, and wears tight-fitting blouses and leaves the top three buttons open. He loves making love to Sara especially that she throws her head back, her hair spread on the pillow, her silicone-enhanced boobs jiggling, and her long legs and arms around Ron's firm, young body. He is lucky that Sara willingly gives herself up whenever he wants her. They are fucking twice as often as they did before her breast surgery." Anne said, "I should confess I had my breasts augmented from C to DD cups before Fred's stroke. Let's go to the living room, in case Fred calls. Also, I like to watch my favorite TV show." I followed her like a puppy and sat next to her on the couch. She turned on the TV to watch her show. I pleaded, "May I suckle them, please. All that talk about boobs turned me on." Giggling, Anne said, "You are eager, like a teenager. Of course you can, but don't make too much noise. I would like to watch TV. You can put your head on my lap." After I put my head on Anne's soft lap, I felt her stroke my hair. I also felt Anne's plump left boob touching my face; slowly, I turned my head toward the left nipple breathing into the tank top Anne was wearing. During a commercial, she mumbled, "That feels good," and planted a passionate French kiss on my cheek. Emboldened, I opening my lips and closed them on the hard bud of her nipple. "Your suckling is turning me. My tank top has soaked through with your saliva," and then Anne blurted out, "My pussy is throbbing and it is full of juice. Keep suckling and fondling," and lifted up her tank top and lacy bra to free her firm boobs. Anne no longer watched TV. She threw her head back and closed her eyes. Still suckling her left boob, I began to knead both of Anne's boobs with my fingers and hands, and exploring their curves and their smoothness. Underneath my head, Anne's hips and thighs began to move. Suddenly, Anne pushed me away, and, while peeling off her shorts and panties, hissed, "Take off your shorts and underwear. I got to have your stiff cock in my pussy." "I don't have a condom with me," as I peeled off my clothes. "I don't care. I'll take a shower and wash your cum off," and after pushing me to sit on the couch straddled my crotch, impaled herself on my rock-hard cock, and rapidly humped on it. "I feel an orgasm rushing through. I can't stop it. Keep suckling and fondling," and, pressing my head against her boob, she moaned loudly as her body shook. "I have sensitive boobs," and was grinning happily as jets of cum flew out of my cock and flooded her womb. After resting for a short while, Anne said, "I have not made love in over two years. Your cock is big; it stretched my passage nicely." "You can be on top. If it hurts, back off." Later, Anne said, "I don't want to wake up Fred. I'll take a shower in your bathroom." "I'm all sticky; I need a shower too," and followed her to my apartment. Watching Anne's large, undulating, buttocks, made my cock hard. After, I got in the shower with her, Anne saw my hard cock and said, "My God, you ready so soon?" "It's your fault. If you weren't so beautiful and sexy, I wouldn't be like this. I can't help getting hard every time I look at you." Giggling, she said, "I know it's my boobs." "It's all of you from top to bottom," after nudging her to face the shower head, I bent down to kiss her large buttocks, and said, "You also have sexy hips." While I was passionately kissing her meaty buttocks, Anne said, "You're an ass man, too." I stood up, grasped Anne's magnificent boobs, and pushed my hard cock in to her sexy buttocks. Anne moaned with pleasure, but said, "I better get back home before Fred wakes up." After I dried her, she put her clothes back on and hurried off to her home. ---- Anne said, "On Wednesday, I would like to go to a dinner of retired teachers. Would you take care of Fred while I am gone? You can have dinner with Fred: pasta, salad, and rolls." "Yes. It would be my pleasure." On Wednesday evening, Anne looked elegant, dressed in a sleeve-less, print, blouse, a matching skirt, a thin sweater, and short-heel dress shoes. A day before she had her hair done to look lustrous. After she left, Fred and I had scotch on the rocks and then the pasta dinner Anne had prepared for us. Afterwards, at Fred's request, I gave him a second scotch on the rocks. Afterwards, while we were watching TV, Fred said he was tired and I helped him get to bed; he suggested, "You could look at the photo albums and year books in the living room while waiting for Anne to return home." I scanned several year books. As I looked at the photos in the school year book of seven years earlier, I recalled that, at the age of 40, Anne was a ripe, mature, beautiful woman. I had just turned 18 years old and fell in love with Mrs. Anne Oster, my teacher. I ogled her for the previous six months as she taught Advanced English. With raging hormones in me, I imagined that Anne and I had eloped to live in a large mansion, and we made passionate love in every conceivable position in every room of the mansion. I hung out as much as possible near her and I was very unhappy when she told me, firmly, "Tim, get over your crush on me. I am a married woman and your teacher. I like you. But, there is no way I'll leave my husband. He loves me very much." With tears in my eyes, I said, "My feelings for you are deep. Go out with me once to show that you like me." "That would result in a huge scandal. I will be a chaperone at the senior prom and I'll dance with you once." Anne went to the prom with her husband. She dressed conservatively in a black, short-sleeve full-length dress; pearl ear rings and necklace added to her elegant looks; her shoulder-length blonde hair looked lustrous. She was a good dancer and, as she promised, danced with me once, but to fast music. Surprisingly, later, she agreed to dance with me to slow music; she blushed, when I whispered to her that she was the most beautiful woman at the dance. As we danced, I held her tightly against me, feeling up her boobs and buttocks. Towards the end of the prom, my date told me that Anne and Fred were having words because Fred was flirting with a young teacher. ---- After returning home, Anne said, "Thank you for taking care of Fred. I had a great time with my friends," and asked, "What are you looking at?" I showed her the school year book and as I turned to the prom photos, "I remember dancing with you at the prom, Mrs. Oster." Anne said softly, "I recall you told me that I was the most beautiful woman at the dance. Those words meant a lot to me, especially after I found out Fred has been having affairs." "You are still a very beautiful woman, Anne. I'm sorry Fred had affairs with other women." She smiled and said, "Life goes on. Pour me a glass of Zinfandel. Let me check on Fred." With the bedroom door open, a pretty white kitten bounded in, stopped, and was staring at me; Anne said, "This is Cumulous." I mumbled, "She's pretty. I love to kiss a pretty pussy." Blushing, Anne said, "I'm glad you think so. Fred loves her too." Anne returned wearing a crimson, silk, robe. She stood in front of me and let the robe fall to the carpeted floor. She had on sexy underwear: a light pink, silk, pushup bra that barely covered her large, pink, nipples, and a light pink thong that barely covered her hairy pussy and highlighted her meaty buttocks. I slid to my knees, pushed my head in to her covered crotch as I grasped her buttocks. When she felt my mouth on her covered pussy, she said weakly, "You sure? It's full of juice. I've been oozing for a while." I mumbled, "I love it," and I began to lick her covered gash and scooping as much love nectar as my mouth could suck in. Holding my head in her hands, slowly, Anne lifted her left foot and placed it on the couch; her gash became wider and her aroused, prominent, clit popped out. I pushed her panties aside to expose her pussy and licked her clit as she had an intense orgasm, and later pushed my head away from her sensitive clit. A short time later, sheepishly, I said, "I don't have a condom with me. I have them in my room." "I can't get pregnant, but I can't sleep next to Fred full of your semen." "Please come to my bed. I'll make sure you return before he wakes up." "Let me check on Fred once more," and, after tip toeing to her bedroom and returning, said, "He's fast asleep." Holding her hand, I led Anne to my room. After locking the door, I hugged her passionately. Quickly, I removed all my clothes, and, while pushing my stiff cock between her buttocks and kissing her long neck, I grasped her covered boobs. "Your cock is leaking cum." "Your buttocks feel great around my cock. I am very excited and close to blowing my wad." Anne grasped a wad of tissues from the box next to my bed, placed them near the tip of my leaking cock, and said, "I think they will absorb most of it." When Anne bent forward slightly, my cock went deeper in to her crotch valley, and the new sensation triggered my climax. My cock was still stiff, as I rolled a condom on it. Anne straddled my waist and, after grasping my condom-covered cock, placed it at her vaginal entrance, and slowly pushed against it until nearly the entire length went inside her vagina. As she sat still, I grasped her bra covered boobs and pinched her pink nipples. A short time later, she leaned forward and, as her hanging tits swayed back and forth, she fucked my cock; when she stopped to rest, I fucked her pussy vigorously. She said, "I should be in my bed by 2 a.m. We have another hour for fun." I nudged her to lie on her back and, after she raised her toned thighs, fucked her slowly, pausing often to kiss her lips, neck, and boobs. In the warm, humid, night, we perspired, as we loved each other. Anne went wild and continued to groan into my mouth and strained against me as pleasure tore through her. "It had been too long since I felt the wonderful feelings you have given me." "I am excited too and ready to cum again," and French kissed her as I plunged my cock repeatedly in to her pussy. My Landlady Later, after my climax and her second orgasm, I lay on top of Anne who had a big smile on her face as she stroked my neck and back. After I got off of her, she took a quick shower and left for her home. ---- Fred suffered another stroke and Anne, on the advice of her daughter, moved him to a nursing home. I did all the tasks Anne asked me to do, such as driving her to the nursing home and taking care of her yard, but stayed in the background. After another month, in October, Fred went in to a coma and died. I stood by Anne and consoled her as best as I could until Jess came from Orlando. Soon afterwards, Anne told me, "I am going to Orlando to be near my daughter and grandson for some time. Please stay here. Take care of yourself and this house." ---- Anne and I kept in touch via text messages and also phone calls. She was happy to know that I got a part-time job to teach Creative Writing at the local community college; I taught on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. After a month or so, Anne called on a Friday evening, and said, "Jess is staying with her fiancé tonight. She is getting married in another month and you are invited to the small wedding. Try not to jerk off for at least a week before you come. I would love to have you fill up my pussy with your cum." "Sounds like you are getting sentimental about me." "Yes, I am. Sara told me that Ron was very attached to her after she went away for a week to attend the funeral of an aunt. Her plane landed late in the afternoon and she was glad to see Ron at the baggage pickup. She felt his hard on when he hugged her and told her he missed her. She was touched and her pussy began to get wet. While Ron was grilling hamburgers for dinner, Sara changed to a short skirt and a white tank top. As she was setting the picnic table, Ron grabbed her from behind and hugged her. Giggling, Sara turned, and removed his shorts and underwear. When Sara saw his engorged cock waving in the warm air, she realized Ron wanted her badly. She bent over the picnic table and let Ron lick her buttocks and pussy. She was pleasantly surprised when an orgasm washed over her. Ron wanted to fuck her almost immediately, but Sara insisted they eat their dinners. Got to cut you off; Jess is calling me on another line." ---- I drove to a sprawling hotel/resort in Orlando on a Friday evening and checked in to the room reserved for Mr. and Mrs. Larson. The door to the adjoin room was not locked. I joined Anne before the rehearsal dinner. She looked gorgeous in a pink, strap-less, dress. During dinner, I touched her bare shoulders and bare back as often as possible. That my cock was hard all evening was not lost on Anne; she whispered to me, "So you want to fuck the bride's mother. Why?" I whispered, "You have a beautiful and fuckable pussy. You're a cougar." "I didn't know that definition of a cougar. I hope you can wait a bit longer. Joey, my grandson, is staying in the room next to us," and, after placing her hand on my thigh close to my crotch, added, "I missed you lots, lover. My pussy is very wet. You are welcome to take advantage of this older widow later tonight." "Hope I can see you alone for a few minutes this evening." About an hour after dinner, Anne said, "I'm going to our room. Joey, come with me; you have to have your bath and be in bed by nine. Tim, you can bring up my bags and also Joey's from my car." After I spent several minutes greeting Jess and her fiancé, I moved all the bags in Anne's car to our room. In the adjoining room, Anne, who had changed in to a bath robe, was giving a bath to Joey. Anne said, "Bring me a pair of Joey's pajamas. He is almost done with his bath." Later, I heard Anne read a story to Joey, promise to take him to a pancake breakfast, and kiss him good night. After locking the connecting door to Joey's room, Anne removed her robe and whispered, "Take off your clothes, lover. We have about an hour before I have to meet Jess." After I removed my clothes, and Anne's bra and panties, she stretched out on the bed; lying next to Anne, I mumbled, "You're a gorgeous woman," and began to suckle her boobs. Urgently, Anne said, "Enough sucking on my boobs and lick my pussy. I've been thinking of you all evening." As I was getting on my knees to lick Anne's pussy, she said, "While you lick me, I want to hold your beautiful cock," and, gladly, I scooted to lay next to her with my feet near her head. Before I started to lick Anne's pussy, I inserted my right two fingers in to it, scooped her love nectar, and licked it off of my fingers. After Anne opened her thighs wide, I buried my face in her crotch. As I licked her pussy and sucked on it, she thrashed wildly and had a long and intense orgasm. While her pussy was still spasming, I moved to place my knees on either side of Anne's head and held my crotch and my throbbing rock-hard cock well above her face. Anne lifted her head and took my cock head in her mouth and sucked it. When she got tired of keeping her head up and sucking my cock, she lowered her head and played with my cock and balls. "Keep sucking my clit, I'm cumming, cummming, cumming, again." Anne's orgasm, together with her repeated sucking of my cock, triggered my climax. Lovingly, Anne swallowed all of my cum. The phone rang in the room and, after listening to the caller, Anne said, "Thanks, Jess. Good night. See you in the morning." With a big grin, Anne sucked my still erect cock, and, after snaking it in to her well-lubricated pussy, leaned forward and passionately kissed my mouth transferring some of my sperm in to my mouth. She continued fucking me until I had a long climax. Anne put on a short, red, silky, nightie, and fell asleep with her back to me. A few hours later, I woke up with my hands on her smooth hip and succulent boob, and my cock was hard." Anne sat up, smiled and said, "You're poking my ass insistently with your cock. You might as well fuck my pussy after I check on Joey and pee." After Anne returned and removed her nightie, she sucked on my hard cock to coat it with her saliva, lay on her back, bent her legs at the knees, opened her thighs, and cooed, "Lover, fuck me. Other than lipstick and ear rings, I'm totally naked. You can see my wrinkled skin and hairy crotch." I crawled on all fours to hover over her body between her wide-spread thighs and arms to view her succulent boobs, sexy curves, alabaster thighs, thick patch of pubic hair, and glistening pussy. I gazed into her glowing eyes. Anne pulled me down to rest on her voluptuous body and sought my lips with hers and, after a few sensual kisses, our tongues began to dance. My cock began to prod and poke, searching for her entrance. Finally, after finding it, my hard cock sank down into her jelly-like paradise. "It feels big. I think you are turned on by my old body." "Yes, by your beautiful and voluptuous body." "Go slow." After her lubricated walls stretched to accommodate my hard, thick, lance, I began to fuck in long, deep, strokes, rhythmically. Quickly, Anne adjusted to the rhythm I established and began to meet my down strokes with her lewd upward thrusts. Every time she was about to have an orgasm, she would tighten her love channel around my shaft and let go after her orgasm washed over. I think she had at least three orgasms over a period of about 40 minutes. Anne looked lovingly in to my eyes, as I had my climax; my cock throbbed uncontrollably and multiple jets of my cum were deposited deep in Anne's pussy. My body covered with sweat, I collapsed next to Anne. When Anne felt my flaccid cock, she giggled and whispered, "It is no longer hard." As I fell asleep, I could only grunt. ---- Because Jess was getting married for the second time, her wedding ceremony was relatively simple in front of about 40 close friends and family. Later, after a reception, a top local band provided music for guests to dance. Anne and I danced most of the evening. After Jess and her new husband left on their honeymoon in the Caribbean, Anne said, "I'll come home after Jess returns from her honeymoon. I promised Jess I would take care of Joey while she is away. I'll miss you lots, my lover." Late that evening, I drove home. I was so infatuated with Anne that I created an album of her photos and text of my desires for her; a few of the photos were taken out of the albums in her home, but most of them were prints of those I took with my camera. Many of them showed her sexy cleavage and upper arms, and her well-toned legs. I arranged the photos from face to feet. I added sexy description of each photo and how I would love Anne. I noted several times that I would make love to her in a leisurely manner while I was seated in a cushioned chair; I also noted that very likely I was only dreaming about my sex goddess. Not being a good writer, my prose was more graphic than poetic. ---- I was very excited when Anne called me and said, "I'll be home on Valentine's Day." Softly, she added, "I made a dinner reservation at Mario's; after all, it's Valentine's Day. It's a busy day for restaurants; we need to be on time if we want our reservation honored. "It will be my treat. I want to also celebrate finishing my first book." "Great. Congratulations." "If you don't mind being seen with me, after dinner, we should go to the dance at the club." Giggling, Anne added, "It's time all my friends knew that we have been lovers." ---- It was a warm day when I returned home after teaching. I saw Anne's car in the garage at the back of her home; I went inside looking for her. I saw her at the kitchen sink dressed in a white, low-cut, tank top, and pink, loose-fitting, shorts; she had on pearl ear rings and necklace. When she heard me, she turned to face me, and she ran in to my outstretched arms. I hugged her and could not stop kissing her face and neck, as I mumbled, "I missed you. I missed you, very much," again and again. After more hugs and kisses, as she squealed happily, I picked her up and carried her to the living room. After I set her down on the sofa and, as I looked at her from head to foot, she whispered, "I have been thinking of your young and hard body all morning," and slowly removed her tank top and shorts to reveal her sexy body clad in a lacy, lavender-colored, push-up, bra, and panties. Sexily, she lifted her arms high above her head to expose her smooth armpits, and pushed her crotch forward. "You look lovely, Anne. Your boobs lift up sexily when you raise your arms." "My upper arms are not as firm as they used to be." "I love your upper arms and sexy arm pits." Quickly, I slid to my knees on the floor and pulled her panties to her ankles; after seeing her pussy was glistening with love juice, I clamped my mouth on to it. Moaning loudly and repeatedly, "Oh, Timmy," Anne kept fucking my mouth and pumping love juice in to my mouth. She had an intense orgasm as she mumbled, "Awesome, awesome," and her pussy convulsed uncontrollably on my mouth. "I brought you a present; it's on your coffee table." I went to my room to get dressed, and found Anne's present, a chocolate cake she had baked, on the coffee table. Also on the coffee table was the album of Anne's photos I left. The restaurant was filled with loving couples. Anne wore a sexy tight fitting sleeve-less, short, black dress with a plunging neckline, which showcased her sexy cleavage; she wore her favorite pearl ear rings and necklace. Her blonde hair looked lustrous and she applied light make up. After glancing around the large room, Anne said, "The few women about my age in this room are with old men. I'm here with my stud." I said, "You are the most beautiful woman here; lucky me, you are my date. Actually, you're my goddess," and handed her a box containing a three-strand pearl choker necklace and matching ear rings. After looking at the pearl jewelry, she said, "You remembered I love pearl jewelry. I will be your sex goddess, definitely." "You read my album. I dream about you often. I hope you are not mad at me." "On the contrary, I'm very flattered you want to fuck me so passionately. We better skip dancing at the club. Let's go home." ---- When Anne entered my apartment, I saw she had put on a garter belt, stockings, a thong, lacy demi-bra, and a sheer robe—all in red; she also had on the pearl choker and ear rings. Her clothing enhanced her allure. After she removed my clothes, she rubbed my chest, grasped my stiff cock, and, smiling said, "I see you have a raging hard on to fuck your much older former teacher. I don't think you can catch me with that monster swinging at your crotch," and, after looking at me over her shoulder mischievously, ran out of my room. I followed her to her living room where, before she disappeared, she gave me a look that said, "You get to fuck me, when you catch me." From the dining room, I heard Anne giggle and say, "You have an awesome-looking cock. After a climax, because you are young, you recover quickly," before she moved out of my sight. From the kitchen, I heard Anne exclaim, "Wow, Ron is following Sara around as she is dusting the living room with the lights on. It looks like she is wearing a French maid's uniform. You got to see them, Tim. They can't see us in the dim light." I moved to stand behind Anne, amorously grasped her succulent boobs, and, positioned my hard cock in the crevice between her buttocks. When I looked in to Sara's home, I saw Ron was kissing and fondling her large boobs, and Sara had his engorged cock firmly in her grasp. Anne whispered, "Please, I need your dick inside me, Tim." After I positioned my stiff cock at the entrance to her juicy pussy, as I hugged her tightly, I felt my cock slowly penetrate her tight love channel. Anne tightened her pussy wall around my cock; I felt the walls of Anne's vagina rippling along my cock, triggering my climax as I groaned and my cock deposited several jets of cum deep in her pussy. END I will appreciate constructive comments. Please vote.