0 comments/ 36478 views/ 47 favorites The Recluse By: TheFlaneuse If you're looking for just sex, you've come to the wrong place. if you're looking for a story and sex, you've come to the right place. * In my town there is a house on a hill that lay derelict for years. It actually isn't in the town, so much as just on the town border, but it had the melodramatic air of an early horror film as it loomed over us. You could almost smell the dust and rot when you looked at it, and it even seemed to have bleached itself to black and white over the years. Then one day, with no warning at all, a rumble was heard throughout the village. It was a convoy of trucks trundling up the gravel road to the hill estate. Work began. And we watched the slow progress. Scaffolding was put up on every side of the house, and then men clambered all over it. They scurried over the sloping gables, replacing roof tiles and blasting off the ancient moss. A team of painters slapped the mouldings with a vibrant new coat of paint. Much work must have gone on inside too, though we never saw what it was. All we saw was a parade of shiny things entering and a train of junk leaving it; rotting wood, broken chairs, that sort of thing. The place was humming with electricians and plumbers and plasterers and all sorts. Landscapers eventually arrived, the savagely overgrown yard was completely dug up, and a lavish, verdant garden grew quickly in its place, overhanging the fences and giving it a far more inviting atmosphere. Eventually came what the town had been expecting for months, the removalists, who carted furnishing after furnishing after box after box into the house, to create some environment that not a one of us in the town had seen. They were accompanied by two flamboyant men, identified easily as interior decorators, who flounced inside one day and out the next. Rumours abounded about famous people moving in, although I never bought it. Then there was suggestion that it was becoming a museum, which I also flatly rejected, as not even an idiot would put a museum in our dinky village, let alone at the edge of it. Besides, I thought I saw a flatscreen television go in. No, the rumour I believed to be true was that it was a recluse of some kind, who had moved from a larger, more brazen city to our quiet little hamlet. I knew how unlikely and romantic the notion was, but I couldn't bring myself to believe anything else. To my surprise, my notion was confirmed by Alvin, of course. Alvin was one of the only local taxi drivers, a big-gutted bloke with a hearty bellow of a laugh that was completely overpowering, but a good man nonetheless. He knew all the comings and goings of our town and three others nearby. "You're not going to believe it," he said jovially as he leaned on the counter in my cafe, tearing a Danish, "But a real person's finally moving in to that big house, you know?" "Really?" I replied, "Did you drive them?" "No," Alvin replied, "Davy drove them this morning, said it was a sullen sod, Didn't say very much at all. All dour and flat, like." "I suppose I was right then," I said confidently, "It is a recluse we'll be having." "I suppose so," Alvin said with a guffaw. "Alvin," creaked Mrs Simm, who had been sitting in the window all decade for all I knew, "Do you think I might trouble you for a lift home?" "Of course Mrs Simm," Alvin said gently and unpatronising, in a way that made me love him, "Let me help you to the car. I'll be seeing you," he said, nodding to me. I nodded back and then called after him, "Oy, Alvin, did Davy get a name?" "Err, I think he said it was Haverbrack." He yelled back as he led Mrs Simm to his taxi. I leaned on the counter and rested my head on my hand as I fantasised about a Beethoven-esque character rumbling out a sonata on the big grand piano I had earlier seen put in. The wind chimes by the open window jingled mockingly in the breeze. The town buzzed for the next week with the arrival of this mysterious new inhabitant, Haverbrack. Only Davy had actually seen him, and Davy hadn't been in town, so we all tittered childishly with speculation. When would he come down to town? What would he look like? Would he be a nice bloke? Would he be a high and mighty prick? Was he good for us or was he bad for us? It was all terribly amusing, to hear every single person in town, from the priest to the plumber, having out their opinion on the matter. Of course, nothing came of it. But, with some supreme sense of timing, just as intrigue was turning to annoyance, the mysterious Haverbrack descended from the house on the hill. I was probably the first to see the tall figure striding down toward the village, as my shop has a corridor from front to back with a window looking right up the hill. I always kept that door open to admire the view. And today I couldn't suppress or deny the little peak of excitement that quivered in me at this view. I supposed the image must have tapped into some Brontean fantasy I had invented; this dark stranger now traversing the moor. But my excitement was soon joined by a chorus of others who happened to be in my cafe, all staring up the corridor with wide eyes. But all our eyes grew wider, because as the figure grew closer, we realised that Haverbrack was not a man, as we had assumed. Haverbrack was a woman. She stepped onto the cobblestone lane that wound round my shop and out of sight, and our eyes all flew to the front window that looked onto the main street. In moments she appeared there, her coat fluttering wildly with her hair. Despite her very short honey-coloured crop, intense blue eyes and richly tanned skin, she had an air of darkness about her. Perhaps it was the way she held her face in a scowl. She had a striking face, and I was shocked when I realised she reminded me of Beethoven. She didn't actually look like Beethoven at all, but she had the same menacing stare. She maintained her purposeful stride and stepped through my door. But when she saw every face was turned to her, her scowl seemed to deepen, not with anger, but with frustration, I thought. Or perhaps fear. I realised it must have been fear, for when she next made a move, her shoulders were hunched, she had made herself seem half the size, and when she arrived at the counter she did not bring her eyes to mine. "I wonder," she murmured with a pristine accent, "If I make an order, could you bring it up to the house tonight?" "Depends what you order," I said, with some dissatisfaction at her failing to introduce herself. She tucked a trembling hand into a pocket and withdrew a slightly wrinkled piece of paper. She was apparently very daunted by the prospect of my refusal. To make her food. "Is this possible?" She asked, handing it to me, still not meeting my searching eyes. I looked it over. All pretty ordinary stuff, most of it I made on a regular basis, and nothing that would require much extra trouble, just that a lot of things said "without this," or "without that". "Seems alright," I replied with a nod. "What time?" "Six o'clock, if possible." She mumbled, and I only just caught it. "Alright then, six o'clock it is." "Thankyou," she said, and she looked into my eyes. I nearly fell over as a flash of something streamed through me. I barely knew what had happened. But by the time I'd recovered my composure, she was gone. And now everyone was looking at me. My panel van pulled into the gravel courtyard a minute before six, just when the last remnants of sunlight were fading. I withdrew a large crate with the order inside, and readily proceeded up the stairs and rang the doorbell. It was an electrical system, but it was clearly rigged to the original, ancient bell that tolled cheerfully. The house wasn't nearly as foreboding as it once had seemed. I heard Haverbrack (though I was now uncertain that this was her name) barrelling down the corridor and saw a shadow of her in the frosted glass window of the door. It trembled, and then opened, and there she stood, flushed with activity, and yet still scowling. A huge black wolfhound scuttled up behind her and butted its head through the space between Haverbrack and the door. I was never one to be afraid of a dog, but as this beast's head bobbed comfortably at Haverbrack's hip, I wondered how tall it was on its hind legs. "Come in," she said, already turned from me. As I followed Morse and the enormous hound, I was torn between indignation at being refused an introduction a second time, and wonder at seeing this beautiful house. It had certainly been restored to its former Georgian glory. Despite its prior gloom, the whole house was light and rich. It had been revived with great love, and it sang with some kind of luxuriant homeliness. Room after room of it. I even glimpsed the grand piano through a half-open door. She led me to the kitchen which was expectably downstairs, and in the original rustic style of stucco walls and wooden bench tops and saucepans hanging from the ceiling. It was glorious. "Very grateful." She said inelegantly as I put the crate down, "I mean, thankyou for coming... thankyou for going out of your way." "It's not a problem." I said. The massive dog loped toward me and poked his nose at my hand, snuffling at it. Then, rather strangely, it sat by my side and stared at Haverbrack. And after an expectant moment, I extended a hand, and said, "I'm Lenore." She seemed to stare blankly at my hand for a moment, then at me, and I felt that rush again. And then she rushed to take my hand. "I'm Morse, I'm so sorry, I didn't introduce myself, did I?" she said wincing, "I'm Morse. Morse Haverbrack. I'm sorry." I smiled at her fumbling. "That's alright. No harm done. And... the dog?" "That is Lev." "Hello, Lev," I said sweetly, lightly patting his head. Lev moved a little closer to me. "I'm afraid I'm... n-not very good with people," Haverbrack stammered, staring at the Lev. "I'd noticed," I replied dryly. She winced again. "Everyone thinks I'm a horror, don't they?" "They don't think anything, really." "I don't mean to be rude, only I'm just so bad at it. People frighten me. When they look at me I feel as if I'm being eaten." I was surprised to see such a creature so terrified of the world. "I don't think you've anything to worry about." I said, trying to be reassuring. She shrugged sadly. "Anyway," she said as her hand went to her pocket, "How much shall I pay you... I mean how much do I owe you?" "First time, on the house," I replied, now feeling a little sorry for her. Although now when I think of it, I don't know if I should have. "Really? Oh. Thankyou. Actually, I was hoping we could make this a regular order. Is that possible?" "Of course. Might get expensive though." She seemed not to notice this comment at all. "I'm not very good at cooking you see, but I like good food. But I can't live in a big city any longer. So I moved here, but now I don't know what to do about food." It seemed like money wasn't a major concern, so I said, "Well, as it happens, I'm very well qualified, so if you want me to make something, it's not a problem. Or... I could teach you." "Really? You think you could teach me?" "I'd be happy to." I smiled, looking around at the lovely kitchen. "I should warn you I am a bad student." "Well, I should warn you I'm a good teacher." "Thankyou," she said awkwardly again, with a strange, rusty smile. An awkward silence pooled around us. The questions flew hard and fast at the café the next morning. I don't think I served anyone who didn't ask me about Haverbrack. Obviously the "news" of the order had made the rounds, and everyone wanted to know everything about everything. But I had nothing distinct to tell them, no great insight into her character, no revelation of her past. I couldn't even tell them what she did for a living. How she'd made the money to buy and fix that house. I could only say that she was shy and civil, if a little strange. It was certainly a disappointing situation for everyone, and as the weeks passed, it grew ever more disappointing. Morse left the house once a week with Lev to visit the supermarket, and occasionally to attend to some sundry business. But she never spoke to anyone. She barely looked up from the pavement. She could barely stutter out a passable greeting to a stranger on the street. On the other hand, she was warming to me. Often on her little ventures into public she would stop at my café and I would accompany her. This seemed to put her at ease a little, and it also gave her the opportunity to be introduced to the townsfolk by proxy. I would point subtly to people and explain who they were and what they did and their funny small-town quirks. We had also arranged cooking lessons twice a week, and we had reached the point where she no longer needed to frown or huddle in my presence. She even occasionally made a joke, and they were actually funny, which was a blessing. Even so, she never spoke about herself, and she never asked about me. It wasn't, I don't think, that she had no interest. Rather I think it didn't occur to her that she could do it. And I'm sure had I asked she would have answered, but I didn't think she wanted me to. She wasn't a bad student, as she had said, only she had a wandering mind, and so I would occasionally have to call her name to get her back. She was otherwise very quick, and willing to learn. Nevertheless, while Morse learned to cook and I learned to teach her, no one in the village had learned anything. It was a pity she was so shy, for I was certain people would like her, and that she would like them. I thought that perhaps over time, she might get to know the town better. I, however, only seemed to be getting more insistently questioned, despite my complete lack of anything interesting to reveal. Perhaps the only thing worth revealing was how fond I was growing of Morse, though I didn't dare mention that to anyone. I looked forward to teaching her more than I should have, to the point that I would spend the whole day thinking about it. It had become a ritual now, after a couple of months. We'd cook dinner, eat it, and for some weeks Morse had been teaching me piano, although I was a terrible student. We'd increased lesson nights from two to four, so I ate dinner with Morse more than I ate it alone. Which was lovely, perhaps more lovely than it ought to have been. I wanted to be in that house all the time. I wanted to cook in that kitchen, listen to that piano, be near that woman. And it scared me. A lot. Mainly because Morse never showed any similar feelings. One Saturday evening, when Morse and I were drying the dishes, Morse nudged me. I must have looked sullen and miserable, because she said, "Is something wrong?" Yes. "No, I'm fine." "Are you sure? You look unhappy." I am miserable. "I'm fine." "You have to tell me the truth, Lenore, because I am not able to tell if you are lying. Please say something if there's something you want to say." I want you. "I'm just tired." "You can stay here tonight... if you'd like. You can sleep in the guest room." Can I sleep with you? "Thanks, but I'd better go home." "You look... sad, Lenore, I think there is something wrong. Please tell me. Maybe I can do something." "No, there's nothing. It's nothing." We finished the dishes and put them away. Lev trotted through the kitchen and into the darkness of the corridor beyond. And as I folded my tea towel and hung it on the rack, Morse approached. I turned to her and she came closer and closer, until she was too close for friends. Now it was my turn to be meek and shaky. When her lips touched mine I felt as if I was falling apart. All I could do was hold on to her for dear life. She pressed me gently backwards against the bench as her hand found its way to my shoulder and her tongue found its way to mine. All I could do was pray she didn't stop pressing me against the bench, or I would have fallen down. She kissed me unbelievably gently, almost to the point where I couldn't tell when her lips left mine, but it drove me wild, I grabbed frantically at her, and I prayed that she would take me to a bed soon. But then it stopped. I opened my eyes and saw her stumbling away from me. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, retreating into horrified meekness, "I'm so sorry." I shook my head and went to her, and even then she shrunk from me into the opposite bench. "Why are you sorry?" I asked half-chidingly, "You've got nothing to be sorry for." "I kissed you." "But I kissed you back." "I shouldn't have done that." "Why not?" "I don't want to... inflict myself on you." "You make yourself sound like a knife-wound." "I am a knife wound," she said sullenly, "I'm awful." "How?" "Look at how I live. I can barely speak to people. I'm afraid to leave my own house." "You speak to me. You leave with me." "You don't count." "Why not?" "You're different." "How?" "I... no, I can't. I can't do this." "I love you." I said. She winced. "No but you don't understand. I'm in love with you. I'm in love with you. "I am too." "Are you?" "Yes." "Please don't make fun of me." She said wearily. "I couldn't bear it." "I'm not... I'm not." I said, now putting my hands to her face. "Do you know why I was looking sad tonight? It was because I thought you didn't feel the same. I didn't know what to do. I thought I'd never be able to tell you." "Really?" "I've felt this way for a long time. I just didn't realise what it was." She looked up at me, and said nothing, despite pleading eyes. "What?" I prompted. "I want to kiss you. Will you let me kiss you again?" I took her hands and put them on my hips. "Do anything," I murmured, putting my head to hers. "Anything." Her lips fell on mine again and I had to lean into her otherwise I would have been on the ground again. Her arms snaked round me and I had the distinct impression that I was falling. I broke away from her with a sigh. "You have got to take me to a bed." I whispered, and she grabbed me, and carried me out of the kitchen. She walked slowly and steadily up a set of stairs and through some dim corridors to an open door. The bedroom was dark, but Morse effortlessly found her way to the edge of the bed and lay me down. My ears rang with the embarrassing accuracy with which this moment mimicked my fantasy. This feeling faded though, as my head hit the pillow and Morse's lips found mine again. I writhed against her now, begging for her body against mine. I whimpered as she drew away, but shivered when I felt her hands untying my cardigan. She was surprisingly deft with it, and it seemed to fall away even more easily than the simple singlet that lay beneath it. She ran her fingertips over my stomach, and it quivered desperately, halting my breathing for a moment. The fingertips made their way across my back to my bra, and that fell away equally simply, exposing my breasts to the slight chill of the household air. I had a momentary warning of hot air before soft lips and fingers were on my nipples, and I actually cried out. She was so delicate, it was almost unbearable. I felt those fingertips now crawling toward my jeans, and a wave of anticipation crashed through me. They were off in a second, as were my panties, and her mouth had now moved to tease my inner thigh. My chest heaved with the effort of breathing through this experience, and I clutched at the bedclothes. With almost no warning, her lips curled around my clit and her fingers slipped inside my furiously wet pussy. I moaned and unceremoniously spread my legs wider. It took only moments of gentle sucking and fingers thrusting for me to tumble into a tremendous orgasm. When I came down, it was to the feel of Morse's lips on my neck, sliding up towards the spot behind my ear, her arm round my waist. I shivered gleefully and turned to face her, and she put a hand on either side of me and said, "I'm a writer. I write. Books. And music." The Recluse Lisa Clarke was living the dream life. She was the twenty five year old trophy wife of a forty year old billionaire. Her stunning beauty was only exceeded by her naiveté. And that was saying something because Lisa had a face and body that models spend their life savings on to attain. Having such attributes, along with a husband willing to lavish her with anything she desired simply to keep her around, didn't require much in the way of intellect. Perhaps it was this lack of mental prowess, or perhaps it was a general proclivity to being a recluse, that her reputation in society was indisputable: Lisa Clarke was eccentric. Her eccentricity was the bane of every man who thought they would swoop in and save Lisa from her station in life. Well, maybe they weren't so much interested in saving her. All any man that ever laid eyes on her wanted to do was fuck her. And Lisa would have no part of it. Or so everybody thought. Andrew White—who despised being called Andy—lived in the house closest to Lisa and her husband. By close, I mean about a quarter mile away in an exclusive, gated community on the outskirts of town. Andrew was eighteen and his parents were merely multi-millionaires. Lisa could not pick Andrew out in a lineup if her life depended on it. First, there was nothing extraordinary about the teenager. Second, she rarely saw him and never gave him a second thought when she did. Unfortunately for her, Andrew recognized this fact. Andrew was brilliant. He was studying astrophysics in college after graduating from high school two years early. Astrophysics involves the physical properties of celestial objects. At the moment, Andrew was enthralled by the physical properties of the celestial object that lived next door to him. Over the years, Andrew accumulated some pretty fancy, and expensive, telescopes. All of them were capable of having a camera attached. Not always were the telescopes pointed to the heavens from Andrew's makeshift observatory in an upstairs corner room of his parents' mansion. Within the past year, Andrew perfected the science of aiming one particularly suitable telescope at Lisa's manor and, over a matter of weeks, determined which room was which. Just as importantly, he had an unobstructed view of her back yard. Lisa Clarke's back yard was likely not similar to yours. Hers was a sprawling expanse of cabanas and whirlpools surrounding a massive swimming pool and acres of greenery. Lisa always thought it was private. The only thing that was private was Andrew's collection of thumb drives containing images of her topless or nude, sunbathing or swimming, eating or drinking. She was always alone. These pictures were not the blurry, mile-away images of movie stars you see from paparazzi in magazines. In Andrew's pictures, you could count the freckles on Lisa's chest. Countless loads of cum were pumped into towels in that observatory as Andrew watched her. He imagined what her perfectly firm, full tits would taste like. He dreamed of his tongue sliding up and down her pussy, savoring her sweet juices. He could feel his hard cock opening her from behind as she bent over. Thus were the statuses of eighteen year old Andrew and his twenty five year old neighbor Lisa at the time. Things were about to change. A lesser mind than Andrew's may have missed it. But his memory was almost photographic. Besides, visitors to the mansion were so rare when the old man was out of the country that anyone driving in other than the pool cleaner and cleaning ladies was noticeable. For the same Porsche with the same male driver to appear twice in one week was the same as setting off an alarm for Andrew. Also, the man and Lisa were never together outside of the house when he was there. If he had been a relative or business associate of the husband, they would likely go out back at some point where all other entertaining seemed to take place. Instead, they stayed inside. That meant Andrew had to conduct a room-by-room search using the telescope. It was on the visitor's second visit that Andrew struck gold in a most unexpected place. A room on the uppermost floor of the mansion was often ignored by Andrew because it was never used, or so it seemed. But this time he focused in on two figures moving about in the center of the room. Clearly it was Lisa and her guest. The moment he saw them embrace, Andrew's mind began to fill with schemes. He begged them to remain in view so that he could capture as many images as he could. He nearly shouted with glee when more lights came on and he realized the walls were virtually swathed in tall mirrors. The couple kissed and groped for over a minute. Then the man grabbed the front of Lisa's blouse and viciously ripped it open, buttons flying in all directions as Andrew watched and repeatedly hit the remote shutter button. Lisa was roughly turned in place and the man tore off her bra. So, they were going to fuck and Andrew might or might not have an angle to see it, he thought to himself. He watched with delight as the man reached above him and pulled something down. Then Andrew saw Lisa's arm being raised and tightened into a wrist strap. Then the other arm went up. She stood there, topless, in the dead center of the room in full view. In the mirrors, Andrew saw that she wore tight jeans. These were quickly stripped off her by the man and Lisa hung in just a pair of tiny panties, not much larger than a thong. The man circled her, apparently talking as he moved. Andrew judged him to be about thirty, maybe a little less. He was rugged, handsome, and very athletic looking. His clothes were still on. He tugged on Lisa's blonde hair, yanking her head back and causing her bare chest to thrust out. Andrew saw Lisa's mouth open in an exclamation of either pain or...something. Her captor lowered his mouth onto hers and smothered her in a kiss while she struggled. Then he disappeared for a few seconds. Andrew didn't panic. The man wouldn't leave her there. In time, he returned with something in his hand and Andrew squinted to make it out. Suddenly, it thrashed across Lisa's tits and Andrew recognized the thin braided bands of a leather whip, similar to the type he'd often seen in online BDSM videos. Andrew was fascinated as much by the expressions on Lisa's face as he was on the redness of her nipples and tits. Each subtle strike of the whip brought a new contortion of her facial features that, unmistakably, were not indicating pain alone. His dilemma was how to capture the images of what he was witnessing while, at the same time, taking care of the huge erection growing in his shorts. An easy, temporary fix was to pull out his cock and he did that, never taking his eyes off Lisa's body and the whip assaulting it. Andrew could see down to about her knees without using the mirrors on the wall, and down to her feet if he focused the camera on that spot. Therefore, he was able to see when the man moved the whip down to her pussy and ass. Inch by inch the man's actions began to pull her panties lower until she was exposed. Lisa writhed within her constraints the entire time until, finally, the man ripped off the last of her clothing. Andrew lost sight of the man for a while, but hints from the mirrors told him the guy was undressing. That ultimately proved to be correct when he stepped back into Andrew's view, running his hands up and down the front of Lisa's body, and then slowly walking around her. There wasn't an inch of her body the man didn't touch at some point during the journey. By the time he was done, the man's cock was pointing up like a pole. But it wasn't that cock that Andrew next saw against Lisa's nude frame. The man had vanished, only to show up again with a massive vibrator in his hand. It looked to Andrew like a bowling pin, the head was so big. It was that device that was used against her and Andrew could practically hear her squeals. Some of his best pictures so far included the ones of the vibrator massaging her tits and taunting her clit. Andrew frantically pulled on his cock, thinking it totally unfair that a piece of plastic was doing what his rigid hard on could be doing. Meanwhile, Lisa squirmed and wriggled as the man smiled. Then it was time for Andrew's money shots; time for the fleeting rapture that would haunt Lisa forever. Lisa's secret lover moved in front of her, nothing in his hands but his own cock. He got into position. Lisa wrapped her legs around him and the man held her by the ass. Andrew captured the scene of the man's cock sliding into her pussy. The rest was predictable and Andrew took a few seconds away from the telescope and camera to find a towel. Then he watched. The fucking was fast, furious, and entertaining. Lisa's tits bounced in delightful uniformity. The man's arm muscles bulged as he embraced her. His hips thrust forward and upward with violent regularity. It was obvious when they simultaneously came. Andrew had seen enough porn with the audio turned down to recognize an orgasm when he saw one...or two. He held the towel in place and deposited his own cum into it in a prolonged climax, envisioning himself in the man's place, unloading into Lisa's tight little pussy. Lisa was eventually let down. The man eventually drove away in his Porsche. Andrew had his evidence. Life was good. The next day, when Andrew at last had the time to peruse his photos of Lisa and determine which ten or twelve he wanted to print out, he fully realized the excellence of his collection. No sane woman—and he hesitantly included Lisa in that category—could refuse listening to his offers of silence on the matter. There would be a price, of course. Later in the week, on a day when he saw Lisa roaming the back yard, he picked up the manila envelope containing the pictures and headed to the Clarke residence. He was casually dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, but made sure they were clean and presentable so she might at least let him inside the house without Andrew having to resort to unseemly means right off the bat. Upon arriving, he rang the doorbell, and he waited. He rang it a second time a minute later. Reaching for the button one last time, he heard the immense wood door being unlocked and opened. Andrew thought he was prepared for the moment of truth, but the sight of Lisa just a few feet away, wrapped in a long, white robe over what he assumed was her bikini, was almost too much. He simply stared while automatically mouthing the word 'Hi.' "Hi," she answered with a thoroughly expression-free face. She was magnificent. Her blonde hair was windblown and tousled. Even under the robe, her exquisite figure was obvious. "Uh, I'm Andrew," he managed to stutter. "I live in the next house over." He pointed weakly in that direction. Lisa had already noticed the envelope, and said, "Oh, did you get some of our mail?" Andrew saw her gaze. "No. No, that's not it. I wanted to talk to you, Ms. Clarke. Can I come in?" "Talk about what?" Andrew gathered what strength he had left after first seeing her, and replied, "A private matter." He could not have possibly chosen a better phrase to place in front of a woman of suspect astuteness. She was instantly interested. Lisa never answered, she simply opened the door wider and stepped back. Andrew entered and let his hostess close the door behind them. "In here," she said, leading Andrew from the ornate foyer into an even more ornate library of some type. She closed the door to that room and looked at him. He recognized the querying eyes and said, "What should I call you, Ms. Clarke?" "Lisa is fine," the young woman said calmly. "Good. Uh, Lisa, I have something I wanted to show you and perhaps afterwards we can talk. Are we going to be disturbed?" She shook her head. "I'm the only one here." Andrew looked around, concentrating on the large windows. "Is it possible to pull those curtains?" Lisa did it herself, her curiosity growing by the second and Andrew's cock reacting to the sight of her stretching across to secure the curtains. Then she faced him again. Andrew cleared his throat and began to open the envelope. "Lisa, I have something you may be interested in. Perhaps you'll recognize, um, some...things...in here or remember the circumstances," Andrew said. He handed her a single photo showing her hanging from the wrist straps, topless. The second one he gave her included the mysterious man dragging the whip across her tits. The tiny muscles in Lisa's precious face twitched. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Andrew handed her a third photo of the nude man fondling her, quickly followed by a fourth showing them fucking. "You're a fucking pervert," was her unexpected response. He gave her the entire set of photos to examine and she thumbed through them one by one, getting a little quicker with each one until she barely looked at the last one. "I should call the cops," Lisa said in a shaky voice. "And charge me with what?" "Stalking," she exclaimed. "And the evidence that you would produce in the public trial would be...what?" Lisa angrily threw the photos at Andrew, who felt obligated to begin to pick them up. "What do you want?" she nearly screamed at him. "Money?" Luckily, Andrew had time to organize his thoughts as he picked up the last of the photos, stood up, and put them back in the envelope. "Nah, I can get money elsewhere," he told her. "Then what?" Andrew's eyes gazed around the room. "This is quite a place you have, Lisa. The back yard alone is probably worth staying with your old man. And I do mean old. You obviously like them younger." Her face blushed from anger. "Is he the only one?" Andrew asked. "Who else knows about that little room you used?" "What do you want?" she repeated. He paused. Andrew took a step closer to her and said, "I want you." Lisa let out a nervous little laugh, clearly attempting to sound sarcastic. "You little asshole. I wouldn't have you if you were...," she began to say. Andrew held up the envelope. "I know where your husband lives," he said coolly. "I can find out his email at work in five minutes. I have dozens more of these pics. The really good ones." Andrew stepped even closer and said in a low voice, "The ones where you wrap your legs around his waist and he shoves his big cock into your soaking wet cunt." "Stop it!" Lisa cried out. "Stop it! Tell me what you want. Just don't send Michael the pictures." Andrew grinned. "Much better. If you are ready to listen, here's my plan." She bit her lip and nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "There's no need to cry. You might even enjoy it if you let yourself," he told her. "I think today might even be a good day to begin. And then once I see you are on board with the plan, we can discuss future endeavors together, OK?" She could only nod once again. "Take off your robe, Lisa." Andrew laid the envelope on a nearby table as Lisa untied and removed the robe. She did, in fact, have a bikini on underneath. A petite, brilliantly colored one. "Turn around," he told her. Lisa was tall, with the rare combination of both long legs and a long torso. While her tits may have been disproportionally large for her frame, her ass was perfection with tight little cheeks just begging for hands to hold them. She didn't allow him an extended view. But once she was facing him again, Andrew said, "Get naked." "Pervert," she hissed. "Whore," he shot back. Andrew could see her hands shaking as she untied her top. All the pictures in the world and the best telescope he owned could not prepare him for the splendor of Lisa's bare tits. He wouldn't put his mouth to them today, but he would think of little else until he did. Then she was removing the bottom of her bikini and he had new realms of perfection to explore. Lisa tossed this last little piece of material aside and stood in apparent disgust. Andrew duplicated her previous visitor's routine of circling her, lightly touching her ass, her tits, her thighs and her pussy. "Very nice," he murmured. "Very nice. You have chosen wisely to obey, Lisa, because, as you now know, I own you." He was staring into her face, just inches away, as he said it. Her lips trembled and he ran a finger across them. Then he took one of her hands and placed it on his hard cock. "This is what you do to men," he said, rubbing himself through his shorts with her palm. "How you decide which ones get to you and which ones don't is your business. But you WILL let me visit you, Lisa. You WILL do as I say. Is that clear?" She nodded. He continued, "Tonight, at eleven, go up to your secret little den of iniquity and turn on a light. Stand naked directly under the wrist straps and use that vibrator I saw Mr. Porsche use on you to make yourself cum. Don't fake it, Lisa. I'll know if you do and you'll pay for that. I want a good, long orgasm. Understand?" "You're sick," was her answer. He smiled. "We'll see in the end just who is the sickest among us, Lisa Clarke." Andrew took the pictures and left, the image of Lisa's naked body imbedded in his mind forever. The appointed hour of Lisa's private show for him came slowly, and he wondered if she would actually show up. But Andrew must have sent his message loud and clear because, right at eleven, the light came on. Then she appeared within sight of his telescope. He chose not to take pictures this time; just watch. He watched without pants on, giving him easier access to his budding erection. Lisa didn't appear to be any too pleased as she faced the window and timidly ran the vibrator over her clit, but if Andrew had to guess, he would have said that any woman who apparently loved sex as much as Lisa did would soon give in to her need to cum. The longer the vibrator hid her pussy, the harder Andrew got. He watched her change angles and the rapidity of her strokes. Soon, he saw just a hint of her body responding in the form of involuntary quivers around the stomach. Andrew masturbated slowly the entire time. The next major indication to Andrew that Lisa was following his orders was the fact she put a hand on her tit, playing with the nipple as she worked the vibrator below. He picked up his own pace when Lisa's eyes closed and her face showed the effects of her ministrations. Things happened quickly after that. Andrew saw her bend forward at the waist a little bit and open her mouth to let out a swift sigh. Then she did it again, but with more urgency. The vibrator was being frantically rolled over her clit and Lisa was clutching at one of her tits. Her entire lower body twisted and turned as her orgasm approached. Andrew thought she was going to do the impossible: shove the gigantic head of the vibrator up her cunt. But she returned to her clit and Andrew suspected it was time. Sure enough, Lisa began to cum, and there was no faking it. She squirmed in obvious delight as wave after wave shot through her body. She rocked back and forth on her feet while simulating a fucking by the vibrator. Andrew anxiously reached for a towel, but the first shot of cum flew from his cock before he fully had the towel in place. All the rest—and there were plenty—he seemed to capture. Lisa had completed her task and disappeared. Andrew finished cumming and searched out the remnants of that first shot to clean it up. Lisa had passed the test and Andrew could now proceed with the essence of his plan. Andrew fully intended to have Lisa all to himself for as long as he could blackmail her with his stockpile of photos. But there was to be another unsuspecting beneficiary of Andrew's evil scheme. The day Andrew chose to kick off his campaign was a bright, sunny, and hot one, perfect for spending the afternoon in Lisa's plush pool area. In order to underscore his influence over her, he showed up unannounced and got assurances from Lisa that they had the afternoon alone. The only potential visitor would be the pool cleaning guy. The Recluse That was all Andrew needed to hear. Scenarios immediately formulated in his brain while they walked into the house. "Get into one of your bikinis," Andrew told her. She wasn't gone more than five minutes before returning in a sensuous little suit and a look of helplessness on her face. "Now, let's find your favorite cabana nearest the pool," Andrew said. "It's going to be a long afternoon." The cabana Lisa selected was a large, three-sided affair with white drapery-like material enclosing the entire thing, including the roof. Dominating the inside was a tan chaise lounge, plenty big enough for two people to lay on. Around it were a couple tables and small recliners. "This is perfect," Andrew told her. "We'll need some drinks. Do you mind playing hostess?" Following a wicked glare from her, Andrew watched Lisa walk across the stone floor to a beverage refrigerator near the house. As she got out the bottles, he stripped down to the bathing suit he wore under his shorts. Observing Lisa as she came back to the cabana was almost enough, in itself, to get him hard. She looked superb in her tiny bikini and, as she laid the drinks on the table, he couldn't take his eyes off her. "Take off your top, Lisa. I know you like to be out here nude," he said. She untied her top and tossed it onto the ground next to her chair. Andrew thought to himself that he could be with her forever and never get tired of looking at those delicious tits. "So, when do you expect the pool dude?" Andrew asked. "Within the hour. It depends on what else he has on his schedule today. But it shouldn't be long," Lisa said, taking a long drink of her Sangria. "Good," Andrew said. "Don't let me keep you from swimming if you want." "Oh, you won't," Lisa said, as if she had much say in anything that would happen during the next few hours. After a short pause, she looked at him and said, "Andrew, I can give you any reasonable amount of money you want. Let's not keep this game up any longer. Just name the price." Andrew grinned. "It's not money I want you to give me, Lisa. You have something far more enjoyable. You forget that I, too, have money in my family and I expect to make plenty more in my lifetime. It's not your money I want." He could see her body slouch in resignation. "What distresses me the most about you," Andrew went on to say, "is that you pick and choose who gets to enjoy it. I mean, if you're going to be a slut, you need to broaden your horizons. You invite the Porsche guy over to abuse you, but you won't give the time of day to me...or the pool cleaning guy. C'mon, Lisa. That's hardly fair." "Hey, I did the vibrator thing like you asked. I'm sure you came all over your precious telescope. And you've got pictures to whack off to. Leave me alone," she stated. Andrew laughed. "Oh, we've only just begun." They sat and drank in silence for a few moments, Lisa fuming over the impertinence of her teenage neighbor and Andrew taking in the glorious surroundings, including his hostess' body. The stillness was broken by the sound of the front doorbell. Lisa reached for her top. "No. Leave it," Andrew commanded. "Let the guy in and then be prepared to do whatever I say. Do you understand?" "He'll come around to the side gate once he knows I'm here," Lisa replied. "Fine. Just come back here. No fucking with me or all deals are off and the pictures go straight to Michael," Andrew said sternly. Lisa glared at him before getting up and striding into the house. She opened the front door to a very pleasantly surprised twenty year old man. "Hi, Brian. Come on around," Lisa said as calmly as she could. Brian had seen Lisa in her bikini many times. He had imagined each time what the woman would look like naked and spent many a trip to the next assignment rubbing his cock to that mental image. Today she welcomed him topless. What did it mean? As he lugged his supplies around to the pool area's gate, his cock hardened at what he could only assume was her intention of finally letting him have her all to himself. Brian was the prototypical youthful, well-built, tanned male you would see cleaning any pool in a porno. He probably wasn't the brightest person Lisa ever met, but he did his job and went away. Andrew simply nodded with a meaningful smile after Lisa had rejoined him and he saw Brian entering the area. This guy was too perfect, Andrew thought to himself. And did he have ANY clue how much better his day was about to get? Lisa sat down, decidedly unhappy at the whole scene. She and Andrew watched Brian begin his work at the far side of the pool. Brian may not have been a genius, but he had enough brains to at least face the cabana that Lisa and Andrew were in. He didn't have to wait long for something to gaze at. "Come here and sit in my lap," Andrew told Lisa. When it appeared to him that she was about to sit sideways, he said, "No. Face me." She straddled his legs and sat on his knees. "Closer," Andrew said. Lisa slid closer. Brian was prepared to move down the pool to get a better angle if Lisa's back had blocked his view. But he didn't need to budge an inch in order to see Andrew lean forward and begin to lick one of Lisa's tits. Brian slowly skimmed the bottom of the pool with his vacuum, never bothering to change position the entire time as he watched Andrew take the tit into his mouth and suck on it while putting his hands down the back of Lisa's bikini bottom. Without looking right at him, Andrew made sure out of the corner of his eye that Brian had a view. Assured that he did, Andrew worked on each of Lisa's tits, sucking on her nipples and taking each tit in his mouth as far as possible. Both men were growing harder by the second. "Reach in and take my cock," Andrew told Lisa. He licked a tit and then, when her hand was firmly in place, he said, "Take it out and stroke it." Andrew leaned back and let Lisa follow his orders. He was completely hard soon after she had the cock free from the swimming suit and was giving him the handjob he ordered. Brian was leaning on the handle of the long vacuum, no longer pretending to be cleaning. He moved his erection so it hurt less and then unabashedly rubbed it through his shorts. Andrew grinned and returned his eyes to Lisa's chest. "Now pull off my shorts." Lisa was glad to release the cock, but she knew she was far from done. She removed the shorts and looked down on the naked teen. "Get on your knees and suck it, Lisa. Let's give that guy a real show," Andrew said. Both men gazed carefully as the beautiful woman got into position between Andrew's legs and lowered her head onto his shaft. Brian pulled on his own cock without shame at the sight of the couple on the other side of the pool. He could see her tits as they swung. He could see her ass and the tiny bikini beginning to disappear between her cheeks. For several minutes, Andrew made her perform. He could have exploded into her mouth at any time, but he waited, and then said, "OK. Get up." Lisa leaned back and stood in front of Andrew. "Get naked." Brian could hear every word. He massaged his cock through his shorts with increased vigor while he watched Lisa take off the bottom of her bikini. "Holy shit," he muttered under his breath once she was naked. His imagination had been unfair to the perfection he now saw in real life. Andrew got up and told her, "Get on the chaise lounge, facing the pool. On your hands and knees." He then looked over at Brian and signaled for him to come over to them. Lisa suspected she was in for a long afternoon as Brian approached and the bulge in the front of his shorts became even bigger. "Take off your shorts," Andrew told him. "Lisa loves to give head and you're next." Brian didn't need any further instructions. He was standing in front of her in a matter of seconds, his huge cock just inches from her lips. Andrew, meanwhile, was climbing onto the small bed, behind Lisa. "C'mon, guys. Get started," Andrew said. Brian shoved his cock between her lips with such sudden force that Lisa's head tilted back, but he put his hand behind it and pulled her closer. Instantly, he began fucking her mouth. Andrew was a little more thoughtful, but not much. He spread Lisa's legs, placed the head of his thick cock at the entrance to her pussy, and sought out her clit. A couple of strokes caused her to moan. Then Andrew was ready for his own 'dream come true.' He drove his cock into Lisa's surprisingly wet pussy with abrupt force. He heard her gasp once more, but she had no choice except to accept both cocks without further protest. Brian was holding her by the head. Andrew clung to her hips. The chaise lounge creaked under the weight and efforts of the trio on and around it. Andrew was not surprised by the tightness of her pussy. She was a goddess in his eyes and he expected her to be faultless. So far, she was. He watched Brian bend over and play with her tits, at the same time driving his cock forward until nothing was left outside her soft lips. Andrew pounded her harder and faster, clutching at her ass cheeks or reaching around to finger her clit. The minutes passed quickly. The two men felt their orgasms building. Andrew saw the grimaces on Brian's face grow more obvious and his own cock leaked precum. Not a word was said; just a series of guttural moans as Brian started to cum and Lisa was forced to take it. Andrew saw cum dripping from both sides of Lisa's mouth as the young man's climax seemed to never end. Then Andrew could hold back no longer. He grunted, thrust his cock into her violently, and began to pour his own cum inside her cunt. The slapping of Andrew's legs against Lisa's ass combined with the men's groans of delight. Her chin and pussy ended up drenched in the excess cum that was deposited in her. Andrew and Brian eventually pulled out their hard, soaking wet cocks and Lisa found a towel to clean up. "I didn't hear you cum, Lisa," Andrew said in a mocking voice. "Fuck you," she replied. "We'll give you a break today," Andrew said. "If you go over and use that vacuum for a few minutes, I think your friend here will be more than happy to repay you and let you cum. Does that sound fair?" Lisa knew not to bargain with him. She walked over to the vacuum and resumed the job Brian had left behind. The result was just what Andrew had hoped for. The sight of her working the vacuum in the nude soon had both guys yearning for more. They let her work her way around to their side again. That was all the time it took for Brian to be ready. His erection was at least as big as before. "OK. Come here," Andrew said to Lisa. She came back into the cabana. "Lay on the chaise lounge. On your back this time." The moment she was spread out in front of them, Andrew simply nodded at Brian and motioned for him to take his place. Brian pulled on Lisa's legs to bring her a little closer, and got his cock in position. He was a little gentler this time, but his cock disappeared inside her pretty fast, in any case. Lisa's mouth opened in soundless response. Her eyes closed and Brian began fucking her. Andrew moved over to the side of the bed and leaned down, close to Lisa's head. "I want you to cum, Lisa. You've wanted this, I just know it. You've wanted this guy's cock in you for a long time," Andrew said in a low voice. "He's fucking you now. And it's OK to cum, Lisa. Feel his thick cock inside your pussy, bringing you closer and closer." He paused. "Touch your clit, Lisa. Rub it." She did. Her body began to rock up and down to meet his thrusts. Her face contorted the harder she rubbed. Andrew stood up and began to masturbate. He, too, had one more orgasm in him and he wasn't going to waste it. Lisa was moaning louder. Her stomach quivered and she massaged her clit frantically. "Ohhhhhh yes," she murmured. "Yes!" Brian held her up by the ass. Andrew stroked his cock faster. Lisa squirmed on the bed. "Fuck, yessssss! Oh my God! Ahhhhhhh...." And she came...wildly thrashing on the bed. Brian clung to her the best he could, until he himself was cumming once more inside her. Andrew watched the two in delight, pumping his cock in his hand and feeling his cum rising from his balls. Just as Brian and Lisa were ending their orgasms, Andrew let loose with shot after shot of cum onto Lisa's tits. All three of them delayed relaxing, not wanting to end the incredible session. But their bodies told them it was over. Lisa laid on the couch. Brian and I fell into chairs. "Well, I think the pictures are safe for now, Lisa," Andrew said. "I'm thinking there's no need in mailing them if you just let me know when the pool needs cleaned." He turned to Brian. "You don't have any girls working with you, do you?" he asked. "We just hired one." "Cute?" Andrew inquired. "Very. I'm training her." "Bring her with you next time. She'll love Lisa." The Recluse: Version One The Recluse : Version One For as long as Jeremy could remember, women had always ignored him. They seemed to never be aware of his presence. In a bar, when he was with his friends, no matter what the situation, he was always invisible to women. He was a virgin, and had not even kissed a girl before. Jeremy was 31 years old, he worked out of his living room, playing around with and repairing people's broken computers was his specialty. Customers would call him up and he would go to their home and pick up their PC and bring it back with him. It was a profitable business. Kept Jeremy at home so he wouldn't have to deal a lot with the outside world, and it allowed him to keep busy with his favorite pastime, playing online. It also gave him the odd interaction with a female, which was always great for feeding his fantasies. Because of Jeremy's bad luck with women he especially loved the anonymity of being online. For the first time Jeremy was able to talk to women by typing words to them, and to his surprise they spoke back to him. The women on the other end had no idea of how thrilling it was for Jeremy to even get a hello back from them. He was in heaven, although he had no one person that he talked to for more then a few days, Jeremy was happy with his situation. He wasn't offensive to look at. In fact, Jeremy had a beautiful face. His eyes were a piercing dark green, his hair brown and short. He kept himself well groomed, and certainly did not look like the type of guy that could not hold a conversation with a woman in real life. He just didn't seem to have that gift. That thing that made other men capable of being so comfortable with women. Jeremy loved women. He fantasized about them all the time. He thought about sex almost every waking moment of the day, and longed for the chance to be able to touch one. One day after collecting all the computers to be repaired that night Jeremy received a phone call from a girl frantic on the other end of the phone. "Hello? Is this Jeremy?" The girls voice called out quickly. "Yes this is." Jeremy quietly spoke back at her, not recognizing the voice of the young girl on the other end. "Jeremy its Christine! You just picked up our computer from our house today from my brother, you are going to install a CD drive for us, but I need to get some files off of it! It has my homework on there!" Christine's voice was almost in sobs as she explained her situation. He felt sorry for the girl, yet also slightly aroused at the way she spoke to him. Her voice was breathless, and Jeremy imagined her sweet cries calling out his name. Begging for him to fuck her harder with that whine in her voice. His dick began to swell as the thoughts ran through his head and he quickly got back to the conversation. "Which house were you at? I can probably try to get back up there tomorrow afternoon, but I can't make any promises, I have customers with priority orders." Jeremy tried to calm her down, but was not about to bend over backwards for some girl. He didn't really have any idea of how to make her happy. Christine paused for a moment on her end then carried on, "That isn't going to work. I have an assignment that is due tomorrow morning and I wasn't home in time to save it to a disk, can I come over there and just bring a disk with me? Maybe you can save it for me and my ass will be saved!" Jeremy thought about the chance to see this voice in person and jumped at it, "Yeah ok, get a pen and paper and I'll give you my address." He told her the address and gave a few instructions on how to get to his house. He didn't live within the city. It was just outside of the city and would take her at least half an hour to get to his house. After hanging up the phone with the extremely grateful girl Jeremy thought for a moment again about her voice when she spoke to him at first. She was so desperate, he thought to himself, as he looked into his lap and took his hand gently over the hardness in his pants. He undid the button and zipper and pulled his hard dick up so just the tip was above the waist of his boxers. He took his finger and wiped it across the precum that had collected on top of it. Then he rubbed it back and forth over the top. Thinking of that voice over and over in his head. Trying to imagine what her body would look like. How her eyes would be as they welled with tears begging him to do her a favor. What would that favor be? Did she want him to lick her pussy harder? Did she want to suck his dick more and he was holding her head back from doing it? These thoughts danced through his head as Jeremy rubbed tip of his dick in anticipation of her arrival. He quickly tucked himself away and stood up to survey his small house. It was neat and tidy, nothing out of place. He thought about where she would come in, and where she would be standing. He wanted to keep her near him as he saved her work to disk. If she was a younger girl he would like to be able to drink in her smell as she stands by him. Maybe she would whisper something to him, or maybe he could make her beg for something while she was there. No, what a crazy thing to think of. No wonder you can never talk to a girl you idiot. Jeremy scolded himself as he went to the bathroom to fix himself up. He thought a shower might be in order so when she arrived he would be clean and well presented. After a nice hot shower Jeremy pulled himself in some jeans and a T shirt and glanced up at the clock. She would be there any minute now. His stomach was staring to do somersaults as he thought about what was going to take place. A girl coming into his house, maybe a pretty girl. He went over to his pile of 4 computers he had picked up that day and took hers from the counter. He moved it onto his work desk and was about to begin a series of plugging everything in when he heard footsteps onto the front porch. Then a tender knock at the door. He cleared his throat, combed his hair down with his hand and walked over to his front door. He opened it up and saw her there. She was more amazing then he could of ever imagined. She looked to be about 18 or 19 and had beautiful light brown hair, it hung just over her shoulders which were bare. She was wearing what appeared to be some sort of tube dress. It had no sleeves and it clung to her body, her breasts were small but very perky. The material of her dress was white and Jeremy could see the outline of her nipples through it. He drank in every detail of her body that he could before saying anything. He wanted to enjoy the view for as long as he could. The girl watched him staring her body down and took a step forward to introduce herself. She extended out her arm and offered him her hand, "Hi there, you must be Jeremy? I'm Christine, I called you a little while ago." Her eyes had a certain sparkle in them. Jeremy found it playful and sexy. She smiled at him and grasped his hand and shook it. "Yeah, umm, hi, uh, what did you need to do with the pc?" Jeremy's voice staggered a bit as the warmth from this girls hand messed with the messages his head was sending to his mouth. His boyish charm showing through as he looked down at his feet for a second and hid a little smile. "Well, I need to save my homework onto a disk, I forgot to do it before I went to school this morning." Christine smiled warmly at Jeremy, and flashed him one of her seductive, please do it for me glances. Jeremy was melting as this girl talked to him, he watched how her eyes moved around as she spoke. The way she blinked and her hair would slide slowly from her shoulder to her chest as she changed the position of her head. He loved the smell that came in with her. She was flowery and clean. He wanted her for his own, but he knew that it wasn't the time for this now, he had to try and help her. "Lets go take a look at your pc, I just have to plug it in. Can I get you a drink or something?" Jeremy shuffled his feet and looked around a little nervously as he spoke, not wanting his gaze to meet hers as he needed to trust his voice to work in front of her. "Yeah, just some ice water please, it is burning up outside." Christine fanned her chest quickly with her hand to demonstrate how warm she was feeling. Jeremy wanted to blow on her nipples and take ice over her body, but he just nodded to her and went to the kitchen to fetch her a drink. "Uh, here you go." Jeremy handed her the glass of cold water and told her she could have a seat at his work desk, "Just sit right here and give me one second to go under here and plug a couple of things in." Christine sat herself down at his desk and watched him as he moved around to the back of the desk and then underneath it to figure out the wiring. From where Christine was sitting, Jeremy was about a meter away from her, and was playing with wires. Christine felt a surge go through her as she watched this guy. He was clearly not used to having a girl around him, she could pick that up by the body language he was showing her. He was so cute though, Christine thought to herself. I'm going to give him a little something to remember me by. Christine sipped on her glass and started looking around the room, her attention to some of the posters on his wall keeping her stare, she could see Jeremy out of the corner of her eye looking intently at her knees under the table. Christine slowly spread her knees open, just slightly. Enough to separate her thighs and give him a glance at the pink thong she was wearing. She started talking about the posters to be light and casual and show him that her actions were not intentional. Making Jeremy even more aroused at this girls 'accidental' free show. "That poster on your wall with the dolphin's," Christine began, "It's so pretty! I love the angle the picture was taken at." Christine looked under the desk to where Jeremy was kneeling with the pc wires. His gaze was right between her legs, he could barely move his eyes away to meet her smiling face. "Yeah, uh, it's nice." Jeremy's voice was quiet as he searched for something to moisten his throat, his tongue drying up as he felt his body getting weak at the sight of Christine's smooth legs open in front of him. He had only seen this kind of view in a magazine and in a strip club. He had never had his own private show. "I especially love the sayings under these posters, they are just so cool." When Christine spoke she sat up in the chair, straightening her back and moving herself forward. As she did, she slowly moved her legs completely apart, resting her elbows on the desk in front of her, and pushing the chair back with her bum she was spread open entirely for Jeremy to view. Her dress moved up her legs as she spread her thighs open, her pussy was thrust into his line of vision. The thong tightly strung down the middle of her pussy he could visibly get drunk on the site of her lips swollen around it. "Uh, yes, um great." Jeremy had no idea what he was agreeing to, he just couldn't believe his luck. This beautiful girl opening her legs for him! He knew what had to be plugged in and he dreaded getting it done because then he would have to come up from under the desk. He wanted to just rub his nose along the inside of her thigh and close in on her tempting pussy. He held himself back and made his way up again, discreetly pushing his hardened dick down trying to hide his enormous hard on. Christine flashed him a big smile as he made his way up again, "Hey there, thought I'd lost you!" Christine giggled as she watched Jeremy's face turn a shade of red. Her eyes made her way down his chest and stomach to his jeans. She saw what appeared to big a hard dick in hiding. She smiled and looked back up to Jeremy's face. His eyes met hers and he quickly looked away and began stuttering. "N-n-now we have this th-th-thing plugged in, so let's g-get going on it." Jeremy wanted to disappear, he was so embarrassed for losing his cool in front of this pretty girl. He moved along side her and pushed the on button to the pc. "You lead the way Jeremy!" Christine moved her chair over so that Jeremy could get in beside her to look at the screen also. I wonder how old this guy is, Christine thought to herself. He doesn't seem to be making any advances on me, she thought, but he certainly did enjoy my little show under the desk. Jeremy moved slightly in front of Christine so he could type on the keyboard. As he did that Christine moved her head down slowly and breathed into his ear. Jeremy felt the breath and it sent chills through his body. This girl seemed to be taking such an interest in him. It surprised him, and he didn't quite know how to react to it. "You can go ahead and find your stuff now." Jeremy told Christine, and she moved up and began typing away to find her files. Jeremy stood above Christine as she typed. He stared at her chest to where her nipples were hard as she click clicked at the keyboard. He became mesmerized by them, wanting to take his hand and just move it over them, feeling them harden further. She was asking for it wasn't she? She was showing him her pussy and wearing such revealing clothing. She must want to have sex, Jeremy's lewd thoughts racing through his brain, this girl didn't really need to come here for this, she just wanted to have sex with him, Jeremy thought. His mind going wild now, none of his reasons actually making sense, but to him they were justifications for the things he wanted to do. She reminded him of a cheerleader, her bouncy walk, her sunny disposition. Jeremy would use her visit to fuel his masturbation fantasies for the next year. "Oh perfect here it is," Christine said, "I just need to save this file to my disk now." Christine reached into her purse beside her and pulled out her disk. She popped it into the computer and began saving. As Christine took her hand to the side of her she felt Jeremy's hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him. "Umm…Hi Jeremy." Christine was a bit nervous as she looked at him. The look on his face had changed. He wasn't looking as friendly as he had just before. Suddenly Jeremy grabbed Christine by the arm and pulled her out of the chair, he slammed her into the wall behind him and held her arms above her head. He leaned into her, his dick hard and eagerly pressing against the material in his pants. He pressed it against her, along with the rest of his body. His face was right in front of hers. He could feel her breathing, he looked into her eyes, they were wide open and scared. She seemed to have lost her voice after he grabbed her, her body going into some sort of shock. "What's wrong little one?" Jeremy leered at her as he pressed himself into her harder, grinding his dick near her pussy, he bent himself down to position it between her legs and rose up, moving his hips from side to side as he did, dry humping her as she stood there not able to move from his grasp. Christine found her voice and began to quiver, "J-Jeremy, j-just let me go ok? I won't tell anyone about this, please, just let me go home. Please!" She was terrified of what could happen now. The phrase kept playing over in her head. 'You play with fire you're gonna get burned', she knew too well that this was a possibility for her. Flirting and showing her body off in front of a man. "You're not going anywhere!" Jeremy yelled into her face as he struggled with his pants, his fingers fumbling everywhere trying to undo them and let his wet and hard dick out. Her begging was driving him further, hearing her say his name with her voice, the way her words ended on a high note it made him crazy with desire. He watched Christine's face as her eyes welled up with tears. "Jeremy, please let me go, I-I-I don't have any protection, you can't get me pregnant!" "Wanna bet?" Jeremy held his dick in his hand and with his other hand he clasped Christine's arms over her head. His strength unreal as he held her back. Her legs tried to kick out at him, he just dodged around them. He took his hand and felt under her dress. His fingers rough as he felt her smooth pussy lips, then the material of her thong between them. It was his only obstacle at this point, he grasped it hard and yanked it down, getting to his knees he pulled the thong off of her legs, she came down to the floor with him, her arms still held by his hand. Jeremy pulled Christine back up to her standing position, and his dick was swinging around trying to find her spot. He took it in his hand and led it to her pussy, he rubbed it back and forth over the small smooth lips and then found her entry. He carefully guided the top of his dick into her. He let out a low groan as her warmth surrounded the top of his dick, then he stood up taller, and pushed it in further. "No! Jeremy Stop!!" Christine's last yelp and plea before Jeremy began slamming into her. He felt her getting weak under his hold and her knees began to buckle. He pulled her up by her arms and used his other hand to lean on the wall and steady himself. "You wanted this, you Slut!" Jeremy's words lashed through Christine as she sobbed through his violent pumps. He was throwing himself into her as he pushed his face into her chest, biting through the material of her dress he found her nipple and began nibbling on it. He moans getting louder, he bite down hard and Christine let out a shriek, "Fuck!" She tried harder to free her arms so she could take her hand to her nipple, but he held her too tight. Jeremy felt as though his dick was going to explode, he slowed down on Christine and took his dick out to watch it. As soon as he let it out he began cumming. He and Christine both looked down and watched as his dick pulsated and throbbed while the white creamy fluid dripped out of it. Jeremy's body shuddering with each round of cum that shot out. Jeremy looked to Christine, then looked again down at his work. His cum was stuck on Christine's pussy and her stomach. He released her arms and she dropped to the floor. He pulled his boxers up and buttoned his jeans. Jeremy left the room and went into his bedroom and slammed the door. Christine grabbed her disk and ran from the house. (Dearest readers: I have worked on two versions of this story, one with a younger girl with whom Jeremy takes by force, and another with an older woman who seduces Jeremy and guides him through the love making process in a mothering way. Enjoy) The Recluse: Version Two For as long as Jeremy could remember, women had always ignored him. They seemed to never be aware of his presence. In a bar, when he was with his friends, no matter what the situation, he was always invisible to women. He was a virgin, and had not even kissed a girl before. Jeremy was 28 years old, he worked out of his living room, playing around with and repairing people’s broken computers was his specialty. Customers would call him up and he would go to their home and pick up their PC and bring it back with him. It was a profitable business. Kept Jeremy at home so he wouldn’t have to deal a lot with the outside world, and it allowed him to keep busy with his favorite pastime, playing online. It also gave him the odd interaction with a female, which was always great for feeding his fantasies. Because of Jeremy’s bad luck with women he especially loved the anonymity of being online. For the first time Jeremy was able to talk to women by typing words to them, and to his surprise they spoke back to him. The women on the other end had no idea of how thrilling it was for Jeremy to even get a hello back from them. He was in heaven, although he had no one person that he talked to for more then a few days, Jeremy was happy to have the contact. He wasn’t offensive to look at. In fact, Jeremy had a beautiful face. His eyes were a piercing dark green, his hair brown and short. He kept himself well groomed, and certainly did not look like the type of guy that could not hold a conversation with a woman in real life. He just didn’t seem to have that gift. That thing that made other men capable of being so comfortable with women. Jeremy loved women. He fantasized about them all the time. He thought about sex almost every waking moment of the day, and longed for the chance to be able to touch one. One day, after collecting all the computers to be repaired that night Jeremy received a phone call, it was a woman on the other end. “Hello? Jeremy?” The woman’s voice called out quickly. “Yes.” Jeremy quietly spoke back at her, not recognizing the voice of the lady on the other end. Her voice was low and breathy, Jeremy found it wildly erotic. “Jeremy, its Elaine Bradford, your mom‘s friend, I‘m sure you remember! You picked up our computer from our house today from my son, you are going to install a CD burner for us, but I need to get some files off of it. It has some of my unpublished work that I need to submit.” She sounded concerned about it and Jeremy racked his brain to form a solution, but she spoke up again and solved it for him. “Maybe I could pass by there Jeremy? I have to do a couple of errands but I will have some time this evening, if you don’t have any plans then I can come there and save the files I need.” Jeremy felt some excitement in his stomach, “Great, just give me a call before you come by and I’ll see you then.” “Ok, bye Jeremy.” “Bye.” Jeremy sat down in a chair in the kitchen and stretched his legs open. He let his head rest back and he closed his eyes. Thinking about Elaine made him so wild. She had been a friend of Jeremy’s mom’s for a long time. He remembers growing up seeing her around. As a young teenager she would be in many of his nighttime fantasies. She was much more exotic then Jeremy’s own mother, and she had a great body and loved to show it off. One time he remembers sitting across from her while she was talking with his mom, she was wearing a skirt and she seemed to be opening and closing her legs right in front of Jeremy, he loved it, and ran to his room after she left and jerked himself quickly. She was one of the only women, aside from his mother who seemed to be able to talk to him freely. He moved his hand onto his lap and then up to the waist of his sweatpants. He pushed his hand inside and began to play around with his dick. Elaine’s voice echoing in his head. Only now she was telling him things he wanted to hear. She was coaxing him on to stroke his dick. He swallowed hard and got himself up. There’ll be enough time for that later he thought to himself. He walked over to the bathroom and got in the shower to relax for his evening visit. His nerves were starting up at the thought of having her come over, he just settled back into the spray of warm water and took a long shower. A couple of hours later Jeremy was working away at one of the computers in his living room and the phone rang. He felt his stomach turn into knots and he leaned over and grabbed the phone. “Hello?” Jeremy spoke quietly into the phone, then heard the incredibly sexy voice of Elaine Bradford on the other end. “Jeremy, It’s Mrs. Bradford here, I’m all finished my errands and if it’s ok, I ‘d like to pop over and retrieve that stuff I told you about. That is of course if you don’t mind me poking around in your official headquarters.” Elaine gave a little laugh at the end of her sentence and Jeremy felt his dick harden instantly. Her laugh was light and airy and incredibly sexy. He couldn’t wait for this woman to make her way over here. “That’s fine, you remember how to get here right?” When he hung up the phone he felt like he needed to go to the bathroom and throw up. He didn’t know why he was so nervous about this woman coming over. Maybe it was because she had always been able to cast a spell over him, and now she would be coming to his house for the second time. The first time was just a brief appearance and his mother had lead her around the whole time. Almost an hour later Jeremy got the knock at the door. He was sitting and watching TV trying to calm his nerves. He peeked through the curtains and saw the SUV parked outside. That’s her, it’s her, here we go, he rallied under his breath, he jumped off the couch and walked over to unlock the door. He pulled his sweatpants up and smoothed the front of his white t-shirt and opened the door. Elaine was standing there holding the screen door open on her hip. “Jeremy! Hi!” She gave Jeremy a warm smile and came forward to hug him. Jeremy stood there with his body stiff. She was a beautiful woman, looked to be in her mid forties, her figure was voluminous, her breasts held back by her red zipped up hooded sweater which was unzipped enough to show a little cleavage to every young mans extreme pleasure, immediately Jeremy‘s thoughts began to wonder if she had anything on underneath it or not. She had on a casual pair of matching red pants, they were snug and hip hugging. “It‘s been too long since I‘ve seen you! Growing up into such a handsome man aren‘t you?” Jeremy blushed and looked down at the floor. “Come in.” He quickly asked her to come inside. She came in and Jeremy allowed her to walk past him and he turned to the door to close and lock it. She was taking off her shoes in front of him as he turned back around, and he soaked in the sight of her from behind. She clearly took care of her body, her ass looked fit and delicious as she bent over slightly to help her feet out of her shoes. Her longish brown hair falling forward as she struggled to get the last one off. Jeremy gave his head a little shake as he realized he was staring intently at a woman who was his mothers close friend. In an attempt to make Elaine comfortable Jeremy offered her a drink, “Can I get you something to drink?” Jeremy asked as he walked past her into the hall leading to the kitchen. “I would love some water, thank you Jeremy.” Jeremy made his way into the kitchen and Elaine followed after him, she walked slower and looked around at his décor. She made her way into the kitchen and sat down at the table and watched him getting her water. He seemed to be so shy Elaine thought to herself, she knew he was. She remembered how he was babied by his mother. She knew how her intentional actions when he was younger drove him to run to his room and stroke himself off. She fantasized about it. Elaine also knew that Jeremy was a virgin, that he hadn’t been able to catch a girl yet. She watched as he reached into the cupboard for a glass, his shirt lifting up a bit, she could make out the side of his stomach, her heart fluttered a bit with the tiny glance she got. Lately she had been having a lot of mixed feelings about watching her son grow into a man. Jeremy had a humble build like her son, but he wasn’t as confident. It was as though he needed to have someone overtake him and show him the way. Elaine’s mind started to wonder as she watched Jeremy go to the freezer to get her some ice, and then to the jug with water on the counter and pour it out for her. She imagined herself on the counter, her legs spread before him, and him shyly taking his hand and touching her, as though for the first time. It could very well be the first time Elaine thought to herself. Jeremy walked over and handed the glass to Elaine, she thanked him and took a sip from it as he watched her. She allowed a drizzle of water to slip out. It trickled down her chin and fell to her chest. She clumsily held her hand under her chin and laughed. “Oops! My goodness, just can’t take me anywhere. Jeremy would you be a dear and get me a napkin please?” She looked up to Jeremy whose eyes were following that single droplet of water as it glided between her cleavage and out of sight. She smiled to herself, I’ll bet he wants to see where that ends up, she thought. “Yeah, here you go.” Jeremy broke out of his locked gaze and reached behind for a napkin. Elaine took the napkin from him and laughed as she cleaned herself up. “I’m just as clumsy as ever.” She dabbed the napkin over her lips then took it to her chest. She undid the zipper a little on her top as she cleaned up. She made sure that quite a bit of her cleavage was showing now and she dried herself up. She looked in front of her to where Jeremy was standing, his hard on obvious in his pants . He noticed her looking and quickly turned around and walked toward the sink, he shuffled about pretending to be doing something. “Jeremy? Is something wrong honey?” She asked in a questionable tone, knowing full well that the poor boy was having a difficult time concealing his excitement. “No Mrs. Bradford, I-I-I just need to clean this place up, it’s such a mess.” Elaine knew what he was doing, and she saw it as her perfect chance to move in on him. Move in on the boy she had watched grow up, move in on this innocent man who longed for a woman’s touch. She got herself up and walked over to where he was standing by the sink. She curled her body right up against his and tilted her head to the side so her lips were right beside his ear. “Now, now. You tell Mrs. Bradford what’s wrong honey.” She took her hands and placed them on his waist, then she slowly slid them forward, toward each other, so they both ended up sitting on his stomach. She could feel his flat stomach beneath her hands and it was making her crazy. She sent more pressure to her hands and pulled him toward her, squashing her breasts into his back. Jeremy began to stutter a little as he spoke, his voice quiet, “M-M-Mrs. Bradford, W-What are you doing?” Jeremy looked down at her hands on his stomach and he thought she could surely feel his heart beating a mile a minute. “Jeremy, I saw you looking at me, and I saw that you have a hard on in there. Isn’t that true?” Elaine spoke directly into his ear and then backed off a little, releasing her hold on him, wanting him to turn around and face her. He turned to her, slowly, his hands clenching and unclenching his face flushed as he tried to make eye contact with her. Instead he stood shyly, “Mrs. Bradford, I know you are my mom’s friend and, I shouldn’t be looking there but, It’s just that you are a very pretty woman and, I am a man now you know.” Elaine was so touched by his innocence, he just melted her with his words. She held out her arms to him. “Jeremy you are so sweet! Come here honey.” He walked into her arms and she held him close. She could feel his hard dick up against her and it made her slightly lightheaded. She pulled herself back and looked into his sweet eyes, “How about we go into the living room, where its more comfortable?” Jeremy just nodded and Elaine took his hand and guided him into the other room, he shyly followed like a young boy being lead by his mother to his room for being naughty. She sat him down on the couch and sat down beside him. Once they were both sitting Elaine turned to Jeremy and took his hand from his lap and squeezed it. “I’m sorry for what happened back there in the kitchen Jeremy, that was bad for me to do, it’s just that I see the man you have become now, and I find it very sexy.” Jeremy blushed as she spoke to him. This beautiful woman found him sexy? He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe how warm her hand felt as it held his own, he couldn’t believe how soft and inviting her breasts look as he took a side glance toward them. Elaine noticed him looking at them and quickly spoke up, “Jeremy? Would you like to take a closer look at them honey?” Her voice sweet and caring as she asked him the question he had longed to hear for over a decade. He coyly looked up at her and nodded his head, “I would love that.” His voice was quiet and his eyes not even looking up to meet hers, they just rested on her breasts. She took her hands up to her top. Grasped the zipper, and began to tug it down. It smoothly slid down to the bottom, proudly showing off that she wore no bra underneath. She didn’t open it up yet, she wanted to enjoy making him wait. Then she slowly opened it up. Revealing her round bust, her nipples large and hard, staring right at him. Jeremy licked his lips as he watched her open her top up. This was just like when he was a teenager, she was teasing him. Putting it all out in front of him and then covering it up again. Except this time she didn’t cover it up. She let him sit and look, and that he did, but he wanted so bad to put her nipples in his mouth. He wanted to feed from them, they looked so big and tasty, he moved in his seat as his dick got hard as steel watching her nipples hard for him. Elaine noticed the hunger in Jeremy’s eyes as he gazed on her nipples. They were only a couple of feet from his mouth now. She took her hands to her breasts and squeezed them. Then held her nipples in her fingers for a few seconds. She allowed a little gasp to escape her mouth as she did, she looked into Jeremy’s lap and saw his dick jump a bit. “Jeremy? Would you like to suck on my nipples honey? I would love for you to try.” Jeremy looked up at Elaine, “Oh Mrs. Bradford I would love that!” He wasted no time and moved toward her nipples quickly. He clumsily began licking and kissing and sucking on the ends of them. He had no idea what to do here, he just knew that he had sucked on imaginary nipples for so long he couldn’t wait to get the real thing in his mouth Elaine placed her hand behind his head and helped to guide him to where he needed to be. “Right here honey… that’s it, take it all in your mouth…yeah like that… now suck it baby, suck it hard.” She held his head onto her nipple as he sucked away at it. She watched his cheeks sucking in and out as though he were feeding from her. He was moaning constantly as though his greed was being fulfilled with every suck he had. Elaine moaned out again and again, Jeremy listened to her and felt the precum begin to ooze from the head of his dick. He moved his mouth from one nipple to the next pulling before he let go with a loud smack sound as the suction broke from one to the other. His hands fondling them as well, lifting each nipple to meet his lips as he swapped them regularly. “Mmmmm…yes baby…you are so good at this Jeremy…you are making me so wild…I’m so wet now…you want to feel how wet?” Elaine looked down at him to see his reaction. “Yes, let me in.” Jeremy wasted no time now. He was already pulling her pants down, grabbing here and there eager to feel just how wet he had made her. Elaine laughed at the boy as he was so full of energy now, he was going to go in feet first she thought. “Now take your time Jeremy, nice and easy.” She didn’t want him to rush anything, she wanted to feel every movement he made down there. Jeremy removed Elaine’s panties. Her pussy was groomed nicely, the sweet brown curls sitting so tidy he shook a little as he took his fingers down to feel it. He began to pet it softly, on the top at first, then he caught on to where all the real action was. He swept his hand through her pussy, feeling how wet it was. His dick was on fire now, he wanted to release it, take it out and show her. “Take your dick out now Jeremy, let me look at it.” Elaine spoke to him in a mothering tone. There was no fooling around. She wanted to see how hard and how big he was. She wanted him to put his young hard dick into her pussy and fuck her until he cried. Jeremy tore his pants down his legs quickly, then he let his boxers drift down and his dick came bouncing out. Elaine ravished the sight of it. She spread her legs wide and took her fingers down to her pussy in front of him. She began to rub it. “You see this Jeremy? You see my pussy honey?” She was rubbing back and forth on it, her fingers getting wet from her steady flow. “Yeah, it’s so wet.” Jeremy was just staring down at her hands moving around on it. It was so erotic to see her touching herself like that. Jeremy took his own hand to his dick and began to stroke it as he watched her. Elaine’s held rolled as she saw him take his dick into his hands. “Oh Jeremy, stroke it for me baby, let me see how much you enjoy watching me. You do like my fingers in my pussy right?” Elaine asked Jeremy, wanting to make him talk to her. She wanted to hear the dirty words escape his mouth. “I love it, it’s so fucking hot.” Jeremy’s teeth were clenched as he continued to pump away at his dick, he was getting more into it now, keeping his eyes steady on her pussy. Elaine watched him and brought herself close to the brink and then stopped. She let out a long low moan as she held back the orgasm and opened her legs to him. “Come Jeremy, come and put that hard dick inside me.” Jeremy leaned forward into her and held his dick in his hand, trying to figure out where to put it. Elaine moved in and took his dick into her hands, she smiled up at him and pushed it into the right hole. Her pussy was soaked and waiting for him. Jeremy let out a low growl as he slid his dick into his first pussy. He felt the walls of her close in around his dick and hold it there. He didn’t move at first, just content with the feeling of being wrapped around her. “You feel so good inside me Jeremy, I love the way your big dick feels in me. Now pump it honey, push it in and out of there.” Elaine controlled his actions with her words, soon he was pumping it at full force, slamming his dick back and forth he felt his balls hitting her ass as he pounded on and on. Elaine was about to cum, she clenched the sides of his arms, holding him tight as she pushed her hips up to meet his. Slamming it harder, she felt her clit hitting him, sending her though the roof as she fell into orgasm. Jeremy followed right after, his body going into a series of convulsions as he shot his load up inside of her, he trembled afterward and couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes just yet. He didn’t want to wake up from this amazing dream. The Recluse My smile widened, and I kissed her. "I'm a chef." She smiled at that, and it was a smile I had never seen before. It was unburdened, weightless, and simple. And then it all came out. She told me everything, all the things I wanted to know, she now told me. Where she was born, who her parents were, where she'd gone to school, what she'd written. And when I asked her questions, she answered. And then she asked me. We spent most of the day entangled in the bedroom, finding out all these things. Occasionally we stepped out for some food, but returned always to the same places. And the more I knew about her, the more she knew about me, the more desperate I became for Morse to fuck me. Not make love, as we had done last night, but proper fuck me. I could barely believe the thoughts I was having as I told Morse about opening the café. I imagined myself sprawled across the counter, legs splayed wide, with Morse in between them, thrusting with her hand, between us, hard and even. I saw myself gasping for breath, eyes shuttering and flickering with overwhelming pleasure, and finally screaming out my climax, making Morse's name. "Lenore?" I felt Morse's arms around my waist shake me a little, "Lenore? Are you ok?" "Yes... why?" "You suddenly stopped talking. Where did you go?" I turned to look at her, her blank face now begging me to tell her. "I was just... fantasising." "About what?" There was a note of panic in her voice, as if I had been fantasising about someone other than her. I slid my arms round her neck and kissed her on the cheek. "About you... and me... in my café." "What?" "I want you to fuck me," she flinched, "In my café." "You...are you serious?" "Come on, it'll be fun." "Someone might see us," she replied seriously, "What if we get caught?" "No one's going to see us. It's already dark. And besides, there's nothing they can do if they do catch us." "I can't." "Yes you can. Don't you want to fuck me?" She flinched again but the look in her eyes betrayed her. "See? Come on, let's get dressed." I leapt out of bed, and Morse slowly followed me. She shucked on her jeans and a shirt, and then disappeared into the bathroom while I straightened my hair and pulled on my dress. I hurried down the hill, Morse unwillingly in tow, and dragged her across the moor to the backdoor of my shop. As I fumbled with the keys, Morse kissed my jaw and said, "Are you sure about this?" "I've never wanted anything more than I want this." I grabbed her hand as I opened the door and took her to the counter where we'd first met. I leaned back against it and pulled Morse's waist toward me. And as her hips hit mine, I felt something between her legs, something inside her jeans. I frowned in confusion and looked at Morse's face, and there was a mischievous grin fixed there. I opened her fly and my jaw dropped as my hand found its way to something long and thick fixed to Morse's hips. I withdrew a strap-on from her pants, a big one. "I can't believe you have one of these." I whispered with breathless delight. "You said you wanted me to fuck you," Morse replied, and she thrust her hips towards mine, the strap-on pressing against me in a most delicious way. It flooded my pussy like nothing else. I wasted no time. I jumped up onto the counter and slipped my legs apart as Morse moved between them. I felt the thing again, this time Morse was pushing it slowly into me, filling me. I lay back on the counter and sighed as the Morse filled me, and retreated slowly, almost coming out completely. Her hands found heir way under my top and to my breast and she gently pinched my nipples as she thrust in and out, steady and strong as a piston. I began to moan desperately, and Morse increased her rhythm, thrusting and pinching faster. Then one hand went down to my clitoris, and she worked it gently while her hips worked hard. I was so enthralled by the pleasure of it I barely remembered my own name. I began now to scream and clutch at Morse, my orgasm rising quickly as she drilled into me, fucking me hard with the strap on and teasing my clit, until I wailed out my orgasm like an animal, all arrant limbs and twitches. The next few months, I thought, were as close as real life can be to properly idyllic. As the stormy winter was seduced by spring, Morse began to understand the town better and she began to see just how much feeling I had for her. Thus she began to emerge slowly from her shell. She came out into public with me more, so I had the opportunity now to really introduce her to the townsfolk, face to face, not through description and pointing from afar. She was still twitchy and stammered, but she was very civil and affable too. And despite Morse's disinclination to socialisation, everyone seemed to like the weird, beautiful, puzzling stranger that they met. Morse even paid for the ballet school's end of year concert, which made her the all-round darling, and her quiet kindness was revealed. From then on she became the sort of fairy-godmother of the town. Whenever anybody needed something, they would come to me, and I would ask her, and it would miraculously happen. She never said no to me. What surprised me was how well people seemed to be taking our relationship. Although the village isn't fervently religious or puritanical, nobody in it ever does anything out of the ordinary. I had expected someone to sniff haughtily at me or perhaps a gob of spit at my feet, or perhaps just a subtle stare every now and then. But to my disappointment, there was not a whisper of anything. Everyone seemed quite pleased actually. Maybe they were worried I'd die alone, and were just relieved I'd found someone to save me from that. I had to admit I was. On the other hand, I did often wondered how fate had transpired to land me with a woman. I pored over my own past, looking for some sign, some indication of this inclination, and yet found none. I considered calling my mother for a period, to see if she had ever suspected, but reconsidered after realising that this would be followed by a rather awkward conversation about why I was asking. After bouncing it all around in my head, I decided it best to forget these questions. They really were irrelevant. It didn't matter why such a turn had taken place, only that it had, and I ought to be thankful for it. One Sunday afternoon, after an indulgent morning in my bed with the paper, I decided to pop down to the café and do a bit of a clean-up. I threw on some jeans and a shirt and made the short trip down the road to my café. As I unlocked the back door, I couldn't help but glance up at the house on the hill, and I couldn't help but smile. It no longer loomed over the village like an awful spectre. It was a comfort now. Not just to me. To everyone. I set about my work intently, (though not enthusiastically) wiping down the tables and resorting the store room. I grinned lasciviously as I wiped down the counter and remembered what fun we'd had there. I proceeded to the kitchen to give the whole thing a good scrub down, and then attended to the fridge. I was kneeling by the fridge, surrounded by assorted vegetables and fruits when I suddenly felt someone's arms round my waist. I jumped a little and made a weird noise, but with a kiss on my neck I realised who it was. "Jesus, Morse, you scared the life out of me," I whispered as I put a sweet potato on the correct shelf, "What are you doing here?" "I wanted to ask you something." "Mmm?" I replaced a hefty wad of steaks. "Do you like my house?" I furrowed my brow and turned to look at her. I thought it was an odd question, but she seemed to be serious. "Of course I like it. I love it. It's beautiful. It's amazing, actually." "Do you like Lev?" "Of course I do." I replied, yet more baffled. "Morse, where is this going?" "I just wanted to check you liked...everything... before I asked you to move in." My jaw fell wide open. "Are you serious?" "I had a key made. I was going to just give you the key so you could get in. But I want you to stay in." I squealed in delight and grabbed Morse in the tightest hug I could manage. She fell to the floor, I on top of her, and I giggled deliriously as I repositioned myself on her hips. She delicately as ever put her hands on my hips and asked, "So, will you... move in?" I pressed my forehead to hers and replied, "That's the stupidest question you've ever asked me. Of course I will." She took my face in her hands and kissed me intensely, and I slid my hands up under her t-shirt until they tickled the underside of her breasts. Morse suddenly broke the kiss as her eyes fell back and a moaned escaped from her mouth. Knowing how amazing this woman was and knowing I could do this to her was unbelievably erotic to me. I didn't let her mouth go without my attention for very long. I covered hers with mine again, and she came alive enough to kiss me back in a vague way, but she was clearly more focused on my fingers gently rolling her nipple. I proceeded painfully slowly down her neck and made her sit up long enough to shuck off her coat and slip her t-shirt off completely. She slumped immediately back down and I immediately sent my tongue to her nipple and my hand to the top of her pants. Morse put a languid hand to my head and ran it through my hair as my mouth proceeded south and my hand deftly undid her fly. As her hips bucked I took the opportunity to slip her jeans and her panties off, and in one fell swoop she was naked on my floor, lying on her coat and surrounded by the contents of my fridge. I restarted my progress just below her ribs, licking and slightly flicking at her breasts while my fingers just grazed her pussy. Her breathing picked up as my mouth descended and she cried out when it found her clit. I played with it in my mouth, rolling it around and sucking at it gently while my hands crept back up to her nipples. She bucked and rolled wildly and her hands roved over mine and down to my head. She was wordless, but she groaned with a force that spoke volumes. My ministrations on her accelerated, and two fingers pressed into her, quickly flitting in and out. Morse continued to surge her hips until her back arched stiffly and her face strained to form a silent 'o' on her mouth. I continued tonguing until she went limp and came back to normal breathing, then slid back up to lie beside her on her coat. And as I slid my hand across her belly, Morse seemed to suddenly awaken, and she put her hands on my shoulder and threw me down, lunging on top of me. She assaulted my mouth with animal ferocity, and as I ran my fingers up her naked back I could feel the muscles tensing and relaxing. I gasped into Morse's mouth when her fingers ploughed into me, and sighed when her thumb found my clit. She quickly drummed up a rhythm, and I found myself bucking desperately against her hand while her tongue found all kind of interesting things to do in my mouth. Still, without warning, my orgasm reared up inside me, and I cried into Morse's mouth as I left solid ground. Morse fluttered kisses all over my face as I came back down to earth, and for a little while we simply lay there, intertwined and exhausted. But eventually I gained the presence of mind to get up and shut the open fridge. As the door shut, I felt Morse behind me. She laid her hands on my shoulders and kissed me where my hair met my bare neck which made me shiver. Her hands slid down to my shirt buttons and she delicately unlooped them until she could slip my shirt off. Then they scuttled up my back and unhooked my bra, and I sighed as the bra fell away and my breasts were freed. Morse's mouth made a track down my shoulder as her hands attended my fly. Within a moment my jeans had fallen away and Morse's hands were on my breasts, while she nuzzled my neck. My orgasm was fantastic, but this was having an effect too. I wrapped my arms round hers and held onto her waist while her fingers proceeded to my waistband. She probed inside my panties, tickling the spot just above my lips until I moaned, at which point she slid the panties off. Now, as she stood behind me, her hands roaming my body and my heart out of control with the effort of beating, Morse whispered in my ear, "In love. With you." Morse wrapped us both in her coat and we sat huddled together amongst the vegetables. Even though the floor was hard and the air was quite nippy, it was just so lovely to sit quietly, being held, feeling Morse's slow steady breath. There was a riveting peace about Morse when she was like this for me. This was her doing what she did best. Sitting quietly, showing love. After the silence Morse turned to me with a furrowed brow, making her look like Beethoven again. For a moment she just stared at me, as if she was searching my face for something. But she just put her face in my neck and murmured, "I hope you know what this means." "Tell me, what does it mean?" I said playfully. "There are two things in this world for me," she declared calmly. "Those I need and those I don't need. If I need it, it can be found in my house." I pulled her back and looked her in the eye again. "Are you saying you need me?" I asked. And with a quick wan smile Morse replied, "That's the stupidest question you've ever asked me." And with a shiver, I smiled. "Are you cold?" Morse inquired with concern, "Shall we get dressed and go home?" "Yes. Let's. Home." The Reclusive Beauty I knocked on the front door of the well-preserved Victorian home and waited. A few minutes early for my five o'clock appointment, I carried the tools of my trade: clipboard with notepaper, ampmeter, insulated screwdrivers, and a few other items. Mrs. Miller had called the day before, asking if I would give her a bid to add some lighting and receptacles to the second floor of her home. I'd driven this street in Olympia many times and often wondered who lived here. Surrounded by newer post-modern homes and a few futuristic glass-and-metal monstrosities, the place seemed like the house that time forgot. Once while doing electrical work a block away, I inquired about it. My client could only say the woman who lived here was "reclusive" and people almost never saw her. She had her groceries delivered and never seemed to go outside. So I was braced to meet an eccentric, cat-hoarding lunatic. The door opened. "Mister Dustarr?" asked a woman standing partially behind the opened door. "Yes, ma'am," I replied. "Please come in," she said I stepped into the living room. As I removed my slip-on shoes and glanced around, I said, "This is a beautiful home." The house was not the only thing well-preserved, I thought as we shook hands. She held her slim body erect. With short, stylish, strawberry-blond hair and a regal face, she may very well have been a model when she was younger. Full but not over-size breasts and an hourglass waist. The sparkling blue eyes, high cheekbones, and slightly upturned nose gave her the look of an aging movie star or heiress. The years showed on her face; I guessed her age at late-sixties or early seventies. It was obvious she took care of herself so she might have been even older. "I love the cove ceilings and wainscoting," I continued. I would have preferred to comment on her firm ass but I knew that would not go over well. "Is this the original wallpaper?" "It is, thank you," she replied. "May I get you some tea or coffee?" "Tea, please," I said, feeling it appropriate that I accept even though I wasn't thirsty. I followed her into the kitchen, admiring the rich variety of antiques and sneaking peeks at her curvaceous backside. She wore a cream-colored knee-length dress of a sheer material but it was lined so I could not see though it. The sleeves came almost to her elbows and revealed strong-looking forearms and lined hands. Her delicate fingers were tipped by perfectly manicured, peach-color nails. She wore white hose and pumps with three-inch heels. Who wears high heels around the house, I wondered. The dress clung to her curves in a most tantalizing manner. My dick started to swell and I had to force my attention elsewhere. Sensing that she expected a certain decorum to the proceedings, I sat with her at the dining room table and chatted. She explained about the history of the house- built in 1894 by ancestors of a prominent local family -as well as anecdotes about the antique armoire, davenport, and dining set. "Sounds like the furniture's had a more exciting life than I have," I offered. Giving me a smile, she said, "Oh, I doubt that. I'm sure a young entrepreneur such as yourself has many stories to tell." Was she flirting with me? I'm in my forties so being called "young" was a pleasant surprise. I smiled back at her and said, "Well, shall we take a look upstairs?" "You may look wherever you like," she said. Unconsciously my eyes flicked down to her breasts. I glanced away, hoping she hadn't noticed. Rising, I picked up my clipboard started sketching a floor plan of the house. "Where is the electric panel?" I asked. "This way," she said, and strolled back into the kitchen. Many of these older homes have the panel in the kitchen, or even mounted to the outside of the house. She removed a gilt-framed oil painting of a tall ship in high seas, revealing a metal door. I opened the door and took more notes. "This panel has been upgraded," I said, looking at the faded permit on the inside of the door. "Looks like 1976. A full 200 amp service. That's good." "So you can do the improvements we discussed?" she asked, standing close behind me and peering over my shoulder. I could smell her perfume, a vaguely floral scent, not overpowering like so many older women favored. My dick started growing again. I wanted to step back and "accidentally" brush against her but I didn't. She'd probably seen every advance and come-on ever invented, I thought. "There's plenty of room in the panel," I said, turning to face her. "The issue now is how do we get the wires from here up to the second floor with the least amount of disturbance." "What do you mean?" Instead of answering I said, "Let's take a look upstairs," and I was careful to keep my gaze at a professional level. "This way," she offered. We walked past the mahogany dining room set, past enough antiques to open her own store, to a narrow staircase in the corner. She ascended the stairs, not trudging or clomping like so many elderly folks do, but gliding effortlessly. She almost seemed to float, and if I hadn't heard and felt the vibration of her footsteps I might have thought she was a ghost. From behind I would have sworn her narrow waist and firm butt belonged to a woman of thirty. Maybe it was the pumps and the clingy dress, but Mrs. Miller sure looked like she'd taken care of herself. I took the opportunity to quickly rearrange my dick, now straining uncomfortably in my underwear. As I neared the top of the stairs I glanced up and saw a large, ornate mirror. She had reached the landing and paused to wait for me. Had she seen me fussing with my cock? But she just continued down the hall. I've been around many attractive women but I felt flustered and self-conscious by this quiet older lady. Sexual energy radiated off her like sunlight. It had an almost physical force, like a desert wind. I took a breath to re-focus my attention on the job. She showed me around the second floor, pointing out the lack of electrical outlets and overhead lights. We chatted about where new outlets might go, what style of lights she wanted, and so on. Eventually we stopped at an elaborately carved antique divan in one of the bedrooms. She moved aside some throw pillows and we both sat. Her left thigh brushed my right. I continued sketching. "Okay, you've got a few options," I said. "Oh?" Her nearness made my cock spring to life again but I tried to ignore it. Still drawing, I said, "You should probably re-wire the entire house, but that would be quite expensive and involve a lot of intrusions." "Intrusions?" "See, the hardest part will be running the wires. I have to cut multiple openings in the walls and ceiling to fish the wires into position. On a newer home I can just repair the drywall over the openings, re-texture, and paint. You'd never know I was there. But you have vintage wallpaper and wood paneling I'm sure you don't want to disturb. There's no way hide the repairs." She shook her head. "That won't do." I said, "I agree. Your existing circuits, while not grounded, are still pretty safe. I'd leave them alone if I were you." "And the other choice?" she prompted. Flipping to another blank sheet, I drew a side view of her house. "I can get a couple of circuits to the upstairs with minimal fuss." Suddenly distracted, I paused. I smelled a faint, musky scent that wasn't there a few minutes ago. What that her? Like a wisp of wood smoke it drifted to me, a tantalizing smell that brought to mind a much younger woman wearing far less clothing. But maybe I was wrong. I went back to my drawing. The top floor was basically a triangle with the sides and top cut off. The walls came up about four feet, then ran at a forty-five degree angle before turning horizontally to form the ceiling. I drew in the location of the panel and explained how I could route the wiring through an inside wall, up into the triangular side attics, and then to each location. "If I bring the wires this way I can do almost everything in these side attics here and here," I said, my hand flashing over the paper as I sketched. "That's much better," she said, and then added, "You have very skilled hands, Mister Dustarr." Before I could think, I said, "You should see the rest of me." "Oh?" "My elbows are second to none," I said with a grin. She gave a high, fluttery laugh like delighted princess. Indeed, she struck me as someone who might have been royalty earlier in life. Her quiet reserve and proper bearing combined with her barely restrained sexuality to make her quite appealing. The twenty- or possibly thirty-year age difference seemed to dissolve. I took a moment to study her face. She looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place where I might have seen her. While she did have a fine web of lines around her eyes and lips, she seemed full of life. The high cheekbones and thick-lidded eyes again reminded me of an aging movie star. Her reddish-blond hair, obviously colored, still looked appropriate, not like some old ladies who favor the most outlandish purple that science could create. She caught me looking at her and I glanced back at my sketch. "If I do it this way," I said, tapping my pen on the paper, "I can put four receptacles in each room, plus an overhead light in these three places, and only have to make three intrusions." "That sounds much better," she said, "but where would these intrusions be?" I pointed to the side-view drawing again. "I can get the wires into these side attics, but to reach the ceiling I have to cut holes in these angled parts, here, here, and here." "I suppose that would be acceptable." "It's lathe-and-plaster, not wallpaper or paneling, so the repairs will be almost invisible," I said. "Some homeowners like to do the repairs themselves, or I can take care of your holes for you." I froze, realizing what I'd just said. I really hadn't meant it come out that way. She must have sensed my innocence, or maybe it was the look of terror on my face, but when I glanced at her she gave me a sultry smile. Long-lashed eyes drooped half closed as she appraised me. "I would prefer you take care my holes, young man," she said, putting a hand on my knee. In spite of her upper-crust manner, it was one of the most blatant come-ons I'd ever heard. I had only a second to decide what to do. Should I apologize? That might offend her, make her think I didn't find her attractive. Should I go for it? What if I've totally misinterpreted her meaning? Then I would really be stepping in it. I looked into her smoldering blue eyes. They held a world of promise, an invitation only a fool could miss. So I did what I'd wanted to do since the moment I first saw her. I kissed her. Not rushed, but slow and deliberate, giving her every chance to pull away. Cupping her cheek with my left hand, I leaned in and pulled her to me. She fell toward as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I slipped my right arm around her narrow waist. As our lips played together, my cock swelled. I tried to ignore it. Neither of us spoke. The passion of her kiss absorbed me and all other thoughts fell away. I sensed her need by the way she pressed against me. For an old lady her lips felt remarkably soft. We kissed some more and my hand began to stray. I closed my eyes and took in her aroma. She definitely smelled different now. The reserved, floral smell had changed into something more earthy, more primitive. Scent is a powerful tool for stirring up old memories. Thoughts of my first girlfriend popped into my mind: the two of us making out in the front seat of my Mazda, kissing and stroking, the desperation to do more almost painful. Farm-girl pretty, Sherry spread her legs for me and her essence filled the car. Partially her dripping pussy and partially pure animal lust, the smell had driven me wild. Suddenly it seemed like only yesterday. I stroked Mrs Miller's knee and she responded by sucking on my tongue. Her hand rubbed my pecs, fingers snaking between my shirt buttons to stroke my hairy chest. I kissed her harder. Right hand on her neck now, I pulled her to me while caressing her smooth thigh with my other hand. The increasing ardor of her kisses told me I was on the right path. Her leg felt soft and supple, evidence of regular exercise and body lotion. My hand crept upward. Knees spreading wider in invitation, I kept going, well under her dress now. Mid thigh...upper thigh...almost there. My fingers made the transition from leg to crotch and I expected to feel cotton or silk. Instead I felt pubic hair. No panties, I realized. The thought of this distinguished lady greeting me bare-pussy thrilled me. Had she planned this, I wondered. Maybe she seduced all the service techs and salesmen who came by, but I didn't think so. I had sensed a connection, a genuine attraction that was powerfully erotic. To be accepted by this regal woman, who no doubt had her choice of men even at her age, made me feel like I'd passed some sort of test. I was in charge now, or at least I believed she wanted me to be. My fingers drifted through the short-cropped pubes and caressed her pussy lips. Spreading her legs a bit more, she suckled my tongue with more vigor, pulling my life into her mouth. I ran a finger over her clitoris and stroked her wet slit. Gently I slipped it inside her, like a boy exploring a girl for the first time. I only gave her half its length, sensing that anything more would be too much, at least for now. Pushing slowly into her moistness, I let the underside of my finger glide over her clit. She kept her arms around me, pulling me closer and moaning softly into my mouth. I felt like I was on fire. Merely kissing and fingering this woman had me close to cumming. We carried on for a few more minutes. Her lips and tongue seduced my mouth while I explored the warmth of her most private place. She became hotter and wetter, her clit expanding along with her passion. Slipping the full length of my finger into her, I slid it in and out, faster now, but still restrained. I felt her desire like a psychic bond. No words were exchanged but I knew what she wanted. Almost unconsciously I found myself sinking to the floor, kneeling between her legs. Her Patrician face beamed, suggested she was pleased with my new location. I pushed the hem of her dress higher. She lifted her ass off the divan and hoisted the fabric up until it bunched around her narrow waist. Her magnificence spread before me. Lingerie-model legs of a woman half her age, encased in silken white thigh-highs, led up to a pussy that must have stunned men for decades. The lips were like angel wings framing her slit, nestled between two petite mounds. Reddish-brown pubic hair graced her curves, trimmed into a neat triangle, with tapering stripes of hair flowing down the soft contours of her labia. Moisture glistened at her opening like the promise of treasure for anyone lucky enough to enter. I ran my hands over the tops of her stockings and she spread even further, scooting her ass forward so her crotch rested right at the edge of the cushion. Leaning in, I kissed the length of her inner thigh, stopping just short of her pussy. My hands glided up and down her silk-clad legs. She moaned, so softly I could barely hear it. Moving to the other thigh, I again kissed slowly upward. The silk felt glossy against my lips. The change in texture as I transitioned from slick fabric to smooth skin was electric. At last I pressed my lips against her supple labia. Gently I stroked it with my tongue, first one side and then the other. Her succulence drifted to me, an enticing mix of her juice with a hint of perfume or body powder. Kissing on either side of her lips, I wanted to tease her a bit, make her yearn for release before I finally, slowly, brought her there. I felt her stroke my hair and heard her moan again. Sliding my tongue between her labia and pussy lips, I licked up and down, staying in the warm folds and barely brushing her clitoris. A minute or two of this and I could sense her impatience. I sucked at her lips, first one and then the other. Her hand pulled at the back of my head. Feeling I'd tormented her long enough, I gave her clit a single lick. Softly, with lots of saliva, I traced a path from her moist hole and through the fleshy hills that covered her most sensitive part. "Ah," she gasped, her fingers now tangled in my hair. Slowly, I reversed course and made my way back to her hole. Hardening my tongue, I probed her slick opening. I slid inside and thrust full length into her wetness. My mouth open wide, I fucked her with my tongue, slowly at first, and then faster. My cock strained against my pants and I could feel a slippery patch of pre-cum on my underwear. She gasped again and tugged my hair. I felt she wanted me back on her clit so I again turned my attention to her engorged bump. With a bit more pressure I slathered her clit up and down, up and down. "Oh yes," she whispered. "Just like that." I happily obliged, working her throbbing clitoris for several minutes. Not too much pressure, just a gentle lapping, slow and steady. Her moans grew more intense though not much louder. It seemed there was a decorum to be observed even while being pleasured by a total stranger. Her spicy scent grew stronger and I felt her liquid running down my chin. I truly love bringing a woman to climax with my mouth. Who gets more satisfaction from this is debatable. I've had more than a few women howl like banshees under my oral attention. One girlfriend loved to wake me up by straddling my face, using my mouth to bring herself off before I was even fully awake. "Breakfast in bed" is what she called it. What a wonderful way to start the day. I decided to take Mrs. Miller to the next level. Clamping my mouth over the upper half of her pussy and leaving her hole just outside my lips, I applied gentle suction. This pulls blood to the surface of the skin and stimulates the nerve endings, sort of like a woman sucking on my cock. The combination of suction and moderately firm licking sure got her attention. "Oh yes," she said, holding my head firmly between her legs. "That is...mmmmm...exquisite." "Exquisite" was just what I was going for. I kept this up for another couple of minutes, enjoying the moist suppleness of her pussy as well as the contented groans getting higher in pitch and closer together. "Mmmmm," she said, pulling my hair. "Yes...ooooooh..." I sensed she might be getting close so I increased the suction and went a bit faster and harder with the licks. My arms looped around her slender legs, my hands caressing her inner thighs. I could feel her legs starting to tense up. I wanted to give her that extra push that would bring her right to the edge. Bringing one hand up between her legs, I slipped a single finger into her moist hole. "Oh, yes," she groaned. "Keep...ah...going..." The finger gave her something to clamp onto, which she did with vigor. Her vaginal muscles clamped and released, squeezing me in a firm, moist grip. She started moving her hips up and down, moaning and holding my head between her legs. I increased the suction and speed of my licks just a bit more, thrusting my finger in and out of her dripping hole at a moderate pace. Her pussy squeezed and released and I sped up my thrusts to match her rhythm. I felt the slightly ribbed contours of her slippery tunnel. She was very tight. "Oh yes, oh yes," she moaned, grinding her crotch into my mouth, "Just...ah...like...ah...that..." Her legs grew even more tense as she held my face against her pussy. This is where the most exquisite pleasure resided, at the very precipice of climax. I could back off a bit and pull her away, teasing her for as long as I wanted. Or I could maintain my steady movements, let her fling herself from the cliff, my lips and tongue and finger giving her that final push and riding all the way down with her. The Reclusive Beauty "Ah! Ah!" Bucking her hips more fervently, her pussy pinched my finger. She needed this release desperately and I sensed she would not take it kindly if I backed off now. Hardening my tongue into a firm point, I lashed her clitoris. My finger plunged in and out of her sopping hole and I sucked her swollen mounds, forcing her right to the edge. Would she go over or balance on the precipice, drawing it out? Some women jumped eagerly while others required a vigorous push. Focusing my sucking directly on her clit, I gave her that push. "Oh yes!" she exclaimed, "I'm going to-" But I couldn't hear the rest of it because her thighs suddenly clamped around my head. Her pussy squeezed my finger and her ass came up off the cushions. I felt both of her hands clutching my head now as spasms racked her body. I wanted so much to please this elegant lady. I felt in tune with her needs and I suspected that, unlike some women, she needed more stimulation at the moment of climax. So I cranked the suction up to the max and licked furiously at her engorged clit. "Ah! Ah!" she shouted, all sense of decorum gone. "Oh god, yes!" Sucking like a lamprey, I licked her most sensitive spot as fast and hard as I could. My finger, trapped by her clamping vaginal muscles, could only move about an inch, but I jackhammered her dripping hole as best I could. "Oh my god, oh my god," she moaned, ass hovering a few inches above the divan. "Don't stop...mmmmmm...I'm still...ohhhhh..." I just hung on as she released her orgasm all over my face. Her juice and my saliva coated my chin, warm and redolent of her pent-up lust. Her hole tunnel felt hot and slippery. Beneath my slavering tongue, her swollen clitoris grew even harder. On the verge of climax myself, I pleasured her with all the fervor I could muster. She bucked and writhed beneath my mouth. Her heels ground against the hardwood floor and the divan squeaked from her thrashing. Her chest heaved with her panting breaths. It felt like she was tearing my hair out but I didn't stop. At last she let out a long, "Ohhhhhh..." like a deflating balloon. I tasted her spicy essence as I slowed my tongue. Her legs relaxed a bit and her ass settled back to the cushions. She relaxed the death-grip on my head but still held me in place, grinding shamelessly against my mouth. I slowed my licks further and pushed my finger fully inside her, flexing it a bit to give her a new sensation as her ardor cooled. "Oh yesssss," she whispered. Moaning, she made hip-circles against my dripping face, quieter now that the bulk of her orgasm had passed. I relaxed my lips and let the suction vanish. Slowly I withdrew my finger. My tongue continued its work, gently gliding through the folds of her flesh, no longer on her clitoris, bringing her down slowly. Spreading her legs wide, she gazed down at me with those simmering blue eyes. Looking into her old, wise face as I licked her labia was incredibly erotic. I was proud to have satisfied this woman properly; I could see the appreciation in her expression. I ran my tongue over her swollen mounds for a full minute, never taking my eyes from hers, before finally pulling away. I sat back on my heels and grinned at her. "Delicious," was all I said. She gave me a coy look, her breasts rising and falling as her breathing slowed. "It's been so long..." she said wistfully, looking at me but, I suspect, thinking of a time many years ago. "The pleasure was all mine," I said. "Not yet it isn't," she replied with a wry half-smile. She closed her legs and I felt a twinge of sadness as her flushed, glistening pussy disappeared from sight. Standing up, she shimmied her hips and her dress fell back into place as if nothing had happened. She held out her hand and I looked up at her, feeling a bit like a knight kneeling before his queen. The confidence of a woman whose beauty had controlled men for decades radiated from her, almost visible, like heat distortion waves on a desert highway. I took her hand and wobbled to my feet. She stepped close. Her animal aroma wafted to me again, along with the intoxicating scent of her pussy juice on my hands. There's no way she doesn't smell it, I thought. My cock felt like it was about to burst. One button at a time, she slowly opened my denim work shirt. She pulled my shirt tails out of my jeans, watching my expression. Her fingers slithered through my chest hair. "I like a natural man," she said. "In my day the stars were real men, like Clark Gable or Clint Walker. Today they all wax themselves. You can't tell the men from the women any more." I just stood there, dick throbbing, waiting to see what she would do next. She slipped the shirt off my shoulders and tossed it aside. Moving closer, she breathed into my pecs as she ran her hands up and down my torso. I'm a pretty muscular guy. Not a bodybuilder or anything, but I spend a lot of time working outdoors and I'm naturally burly. Mrs Miller is not the first woman to appreciate my "natural" physique, but her attention had me fighting the urge to hurl her to the floor and fuck her senseless. I sensed her unspoken rule: She was in charge now. With agonizing slowness she unbuckled my pants, then unsnapped them. Then unzipped them just halfway. She slipped a hand inside my jeans but outside my underwear, eyes locked on mine. I was hard as a baseball bat and a little self-conscious at the huge slick of pre-cum on my briefs. "Ooooh," she cooed as she stroked my hardness through the damp underwear. I started to tense up. She took a half-step away and pulled her hand out of my pants. Nails tracing up my body, she took my nipples between thumbs and forefingers. I wondered what she was up to and then she gave them both a hard pinch. "Ow," I said, wincing. "Distracting, isn't it?" she asked, now rubbing my chest again. "I know you're close. My climax got you quite excited, hmmm?" I could only nod, my nipples still stinging. As she unzipped me the rest of the way, she said, "I intend to enjoy you at my leisure, Mr. Dustarr. You will not get release until I'm ready." "I think you can call me David now," I said. "David," she replied as she knelt before me, tugging down my jeans as she went. I stepped out of them and kicked them aside. Her face was now level with my bulging crotch and soaked underwear. She ran a single, manicured fingertip along the slippery patch over my dick. It looked like I'd peed myself but she just smiled. Then her fingers were in my waistband. Her nails drifted along my hips as she tugged the underwear down. Freed at last, my cock sprang out and slapped against my stomach before settling in at a forty-five degree angle. The head was shiny with pre-cum. A long string of viscous fluid dangled from the tip, twitching slightly in time with my pulse. Placing both hands on my thighs, she brought her face close to my dick. Not touching it, but near enough that I could feel her hot breath. Looking up at me, her tongue slithered out and scooped up the drop of liquid that dangled from my cock head. She slowly lifted it, gathering the pre-cum, until her tongue just brushed the underside of my dick. Holding my penis steady with a single finger on top, she pushed her hardened tongue underneath the base of my throbbing cock, pressing it against my urethra. Still maintaining eye contact, she pulled her tongue along my seven-inch length, drawing out my liquid. I stood there, entranced, as this exquisite lady extracted a puddle of gleaming pre-cum from the engorged head of my cock. A shining pool of clear fluid shimmered in her cupped tongue, which she slathered over her lips before pulling the remainder into her smiling mouth. My dick twitched and I felt my balls start to tighten. "Oh no, David," she said. "Be a good boy and spread your feet for me." I wasn't sure what she was planning but I complied, widening my stance until my feet were a bit more than shoulder width apart. She reached up between my legs and I felt her fist press against me, pushing into my shaft between my balls and butthole. I knew this spot was called the perineum but I thought of it as my "pause button." I've used this trick myself, reaching back to mash my fingers into it while fucking if I wanted to put off my orgasm. Seems she knew about it too. She pushed harder, forcing me to relax. I felt my balls drop and the pressure subside a bit. My dick stayed rock hard but I regained my control. "Very good," she said, then leaned in and engulfed my cock. The shock of her warm, moist mouth had me throbbing again in an instant. She mashed her fist into me, lifting me up on tip-toe. Her sapphire eyes twinkled as she took two-thirds of my length into her mouth until it hit the back of her throat. I closed my eyes just stood there, letting her work me. Back and forth she bobbed, massaging my shaft with her lips, sucking lightly. Her fist stayed firmly in place. I wanted to grab her head and skull-fuck her until I drowned her in cum but I knew she wouldn't let me do that. This was about control, and I was happy to let her have it. After a while she withdrew her fist as if sensing I had restrained my urge to spew. She stroked me with her surprisingly soft hand, licking the underside of my shaft, pausing at the end to slather and suck at the head. A few minutes passed, but it could have been longer. Her attentions drove me to a state of delirium and I suspected my sense of time was not to be trusted. Still, I stood there and let her work. Calling her an excellent cocksucker would be like calling Shakespeare an excellent writer. Her magical mouth did things I'd never felt before, and I've had more than my share of blowjobs. How many men has she been with, I wondered. Eventually I felt her hand and mouth leave me. My erection bobbed in mid-air, unattended. I opened my eyes and looked down at her. She patted the divan and said, "I think you should sit down now." I wondered what other tricks this naughty lady might have. Maybe she thought I couldn't take it standing up? I struggled to figure out what to say. I knew I'd cum soon and my balls held enough semen to choke a porn star. She'd probably be pissed if I spooged all over her antique divan. "Maybe you should put down a towel," I said. "I...I make a really big mess." She stroked my heavy balls, looking at them as if trying to measure their volume. "Mmmmm," she purred. "Don't you worry about that, David. I can assure you not a drop will be spilled." Feeling a bit dizzy, I sat my bare ass down. Had she just promised to swallow my load? This mild-mannered lady had already proven herself more skilled than most of the women I've know. Hell, the last couple of blowjobs I'd had were from a chick who would crinkle her nose while she stroked my enormous load onto the floor or a towel. Not a swallower, not a spitter, not even a facial. A cum dodger. Any blow job is better than none, but Mrs Miller was putting that other woman to shame. "Scoot forward, sweetie," she said. "Prop yourself up with some pillows." I crammed a couple of throw pillows behind me, leaned back, and let my balls dangle over the edge of the cushions. My dick pointed at the ceiling, beet red and dripping. Putting down a pillow for her knees, she knelt between my legs. Now our positions were the reverse of a few minutes earlier. Leaning forward, she stroked my thighs and brought her mouth within a few inches of my cock. I could feel her beguiling breath on on the underside of my damp dick. I let out a soft moan, wishing she would get on with it. Again her mouth engulfed me, warm and moist as a tropical storm. I laid back and reveled in her attention. As before, she slathered my cock with her tongue while sucking it and working the shaft with her hand. And again she brought me right to the edge. My balls started to tense up and I knew I was close to cumming. Apparently she wanted to delay me further because I felt her fist mashing into my perineum again. I tried to relax and think about something else. The urge to spew abated. "You tease," I groaned. She let my dick drop out of her mouth and gave me a coquettish smile, saying "You did such a nice job bringing me off, it's only fair I do the same for you." "I think you're doing a fine job already." "Don't be so sure," she replied, slowly stroking my shaft while she kept firm pressure on my pause button. "This old lady has a few more tricks up her sleeve." I said nothing. After a moment she brought her mouth back to my cock. She sucked and bobbed for a minute or two, the head of my cock bonking into the back of her throat. Taking her hand from my shaft, she slid it around my waist. I suspected what she was up to, but it was still a shock when she pulled herself forward and my cock popped down her throat. "Oh god," I moaned. Her nose buried in my pubes, she took my entire length into her mouth, past the epiglottis, and into her throat. Bobbing gently, she impaled her head on my rock-hard dick. She'd pull back until it almost popped free, then she'd go back down again. Eventually she removed her fist from beneath my balls. I just closed my eyes and let her have her way with me. The bouquet of her juices and my own musky scent reached me, the smell of passion almost overpowering. A wave of delirium swept over me as I abandoned myself to her. I don't know how long she sucked me or how many times she took me in her throat. At one point she started humming, the buzz of her vocal chords stimulating me like a vibrator. How many men has she had, I wondered again. She should write a book on cocksucking, it would surely be a bestseller. Then she pressed her fist into my perineum again. I suspected she was about to try something different and wanted to keep me under control. She started swallowing. I wasn't giving her my load yet but she gulped away, massaging my cock head with her bobbing throat muscles. Together with the warmth, moisture, suction, and humming, she drove me right the edge of orgasm yet again. I felt my load churning in my balls, growing bigger by the minute. I gasped. She pressed my pause button harder but even that could not stave off the inevitable for much longer. "Oh god, what are you doing?" I managed to croak. My breath came in quick gasps and my cock twitched in her throat. I clutched the cushions, battered by the waves of pleasure, dizzy and panting. After some unknown amount of time she finally backed off. My shiny, throbbing cock bounced in the air, inches from her mouth. She smiled up at me and said, "Had enough?" I was so delirious I could barely think, but I had enough sense to realize she was taunting me. Maybe she was getting tired, or she just wanted to see if I would give in and go for the orgasm. I said, "Have you?" She raised one delicate eyebrow in acceptance of my challenge. I'd basically told her to do her worst, but I had no doubt what the outcome would be. Running her tongue along her upper teeth, she removed her fist from the spot that had been holding me in check and began caressing my balls. "You know you'll give it to me, David," she said. "You'll have to..." I groaned as she engulfed my cock again. In one smooth motion she took every inch past her lips and straight down her throat, never taking her eyes off me. "...work for it," I finished. I knew I couldn't last long and I'm sure she knew it too, but the sweet torture of the duel took everything to a higher level. She stroked my balls and slathered my shaft with her tongue. I closed my eyes and thought of electrical diagrams. She slurped harder and worked me with her throat muscles. I bit my tongue, the pain distracting me from the awful pleasure of her mouth. She started humming again, vibrating my cock with her vocal chords. I bit harder, tasting the coppery flavor of my blood. She began to moan, as if my cock was the most wonderful thing she'd ever had in her mouth. I opened my eyes and looked down at her. That was my downfall. Between my legs, her glamor girl face gazed up at me. Eyes drooping half closed, she moaned in orgasmic despair. But it was those azure eyes, as inviting as a tropical beach, that did me in. The sucking and humming and licking brought me there but her eyes...they told me she wanted my climax more than anything in the world. My orgasm boiled in my balls, terrible and wonderful, demanding release. I let out the groan of a tortured man begging for death. Her lips smiled around my shaft. I felt my balls churning and knew I'd only last another few seconds. I managed to grunt, "Look out...uhh...can't take much more..." She pulled away, my cock slipping from her mouth. She started stroking me and said, "You just let it go, sweetie. I'll take good care of you." The way she said it was so sexy, like she knew exactly how I felt and how close I was to cumming. Her hand kept stroking and her lips clamped back onto me. My massive load started bubbling, unstoppable now. The glorious helplessness of orgasm overtook me. I could hold back no more. Clutching the cushions and groaning like an animal, I fired an enormous spurt of semen into her mouth. I thought she would gag but she just gulped it down. Without slowing, she extracted my load like we were psychically linked. She went back down as another spurt erupted. She pulled back, lips and hand squeezing in perfect time to milk my ejaculation. Just as her lips reached the end of my cock, the spurt filled her mouth. She swallowed as she went back down again. Three times I fired into her mouth, moaning with the unspeakable pleasure of long-delayed release. In a moment between spurts she impaled her face on my cock again, taking my full length into her throat. Then her tongue scooped my testicles into her mouth. Now every part of me was bathed in her warm moisture. She sucked and slathered, pulling the very life out of me. Pleasure overwhelmed me, washing away all reason. I grabbed her head and held her face in my crotch, ejaculating straight down her throat. With her mouth in my pubes it was hard to tell but it looked like she was smiling. The corners of her eyes crinkled with amusement and she just stared up at me with those luminous blue eyes as I emptied my balls directly into her stomach. I held her face against me, cramming every millimeter of meat into her mouth and down her throat. Her hands stroked my thighs. She seemed completely comfortable being throat-fucked and taking my monster load. I gave her two more blasts before I had enough presence of mind to let go of her head. Didn't want to suffocate her. But she stayed right there, kneeling between my thighs, massaging my cock with her bobbing throat and gulping every spurt. Eventually my squirts got weaker. How long had she been down there? Doesn't she need to breathe? But she just slurped and swallowed, over and over, until she drained me completely. I'd never felt anything like it. Finally she pulled away enough for my cock-head to slip out of her throat. Taking a quick breath, she slathered me with her talented tongue, then pressed it into the underside of my dick and pulled back to extract the very last drops of my liquid. Panting and drained, I slumped backwards. Her mouth continued working me, gently sucking my softening cock, bringing me back to earth as I had done for her. My head flopped back on my rubbery neck and my eyes slid closed. Time seemed to stop. It was probably only a minute but it felt like an hour. My very essence had been drained. Not a mere orgasm, it seemed like I'd communed with a force of nature. Mind reeling, I opened my eyes and tried to remember where I was. "David," I heard her say. When I didn't reply, she repeated, "David?" "Uhhhh," was all that came out, but I managed to look down at her again. The Reclusive Beauty She smiled at me, victorious in her quest for my orgasm. But I sensed something more, like she'd re-affirmed her womanliness. How a lady like that could feel unattractive I'd never know, but I've found the most beautiful women are sometimes the most insecure. I smiled back at her and stroked her hair. She sat back on her heels, brushing at a few strands of reddish-blond hair that had fallen over her face. Her sapphire eyes peered at me through half-closed lids. A single fingertip glided over her chin, pushing stray trickles of semen into her mouth. She was right: not a drop had been spilled. My cock pulsed with spent passion and I worked to get my breathing under control. For a couple of minutes I basked in glorious post-blowjob bliss. She politely waited for me, still kneeling on the pillow. At last I staggered to my feet, unsure what to do next. Standing there, naked except for my socks, my damp cock and balls felt cool and thoroughly drained. Mrs Miller gazed up at me. Looking into her worldly face, I felt the heat of her passion radiating as if I were standing in front of a blazing fire. Her volcanic blue eyes burned into me, saying all the things she would not speak aloud. She extended her hand. I helped her to her feet, though it seemed like two drunken sailors trying to steady each other. Her oral ministrations had drained me, body and soul. I suspect I had done the same to her. As I dressed, I struggled to regain my senses. It seemed like some impossible dream. She descended the stairs and I followed, using the hand rail to steady myself. After what felt like an eternity I reached the ground floor. We paused at the bottom. "David," she said, as we stood among the antiques. Turning to face her, I said, "Yes?" Smiling up at me, she ran a finger across the back of my hand and said, "You will bring my bid to me, correct? Not by e-mail or any of that foolishness?" I wanted to tell her I'd re-wire her whole damn house for free for another blowjob like that, but I sensed she would be offended. She wasn't hurting for money and I needed the work. Trying to appear cool, I said, "No man would e-mail you if he could deliver his message in person." "And I can count on your discretion regarding our...encounter?" "Absolutely," I assured her a devilish grin. "Both now and in the future." She graced me with a beaming, pin-up girl smile. Her gaze smoldered with the promise of more earthly pleasures to come. Bathed in her radiant sexual energy, my cock began to harden again. She must have sensed this because she moved closer and slid a hand between my legs, gently cupping my half-erect dick. Stroking me through my jeans, she looked into my eyes. I felt like the most privileged man in the world. I started to speak, "Mrs Miller..." "Shhh," she said, stepping closer. Her breasts touching my chest, she released my crotch, stood up on tip-toe, and draped both arms over my shoulders. I slid my hands around her narrow waist, holding her close for a few more precious seconds. I bent over a little and she brought her mouth to my ear. Her breath felt warm on my skin as I inhaled her scent one last time. Her voice smoky and deep, she whispered, "Call me Marilyn." (Author's note: Thank you for reading! Some may say that this belongs in the Celebrities category but I didn't want to ruin the surprise. This story is copyright 2013 by David Dustarr. Please feel free to vote and comment...)