63 comments/ 138623 views/ 36 favorites Infidelity and Retribution By: The Big Bopper This is a twist on the cheating spouse story. Malcolm is hurt and deceived by his wife's actions in taking a younger lover, so he embarks on a course of revenge – not against her – but against those closest to her lover. This may not morally endear him to many readers, but could any man say that he wouldn't achieve the satisfaction of doing the same? As with all of my stories, there are detailed descriptions of intense sexual activity between consenting adults. If this is likely to offend you, do not read on. Do not waste your time and energy in telling me that I am a misogynist … I most decidedly am not. I do really love women … this is just a story about a man who decided to cheat back. It didn't happen to me, but I heard about it … it may or may not be true, you be the judge. Chapter One My name is Malcolm Anderson … last week I celebrated my 40th birthday with my family … my attractive wife Jill and our two children, a daughter 15 and a son 17. I will not name them or the city we live in to protect the family's full identity. Jill and I are what, these days, is called a power couple. I am a very successful banker, specialising in consumer loans. Jill has reached the heights of the TV industry, being producer and director of the country's most successful TV soapy. Our parents and our kids, as well as aunts, uncles and cousins, helped me celebrate my big four-0 on a Saturday afternoon. My wife even rescheduled the weekly script meeting for her TV series, just to make it a great family celebration. Here I am, only one week after that great party, sitting in my large garage, out at the back of the house, sifting through bags of accumulated stuff that, to my mind, is destined for the Rubbish Dump. I had designated this Sunday morning to be clean up day, rounding up what I considered to be bags of rubbish from all over my house and I was now sorting through it. I rummaged through a black plastic bag and found a few items that identified the contents as mainly pertaining to Jill's work. 'I better leave this lot for her to go through,' I thought to myself. But something on a sheet of paper near the top of the bag caught my attention and I dug around a bit deeper. 'What the hell is this?' I asked myself as I scanned through what appeared to be pages and pages of e-mails, stored in a blue folder. I read a part of one of the e-mails out loud to myself, "Randy, I never expected a man's tongue could have such a reaction on me. Seriously, a man going down on me has never before triggered such a fire inside me. You could see how violently I came and you were the one solely responsible for that. How does that make you feel, Randy? I would think pretty good. You have developed an art in the way you use that magic tongue of yours. You've hooked me, no man has ever made me cum like that, you glorious hunk." I searched to the top of the page, looking to see who had written this and to whom. I immediately recognised my wife's e-mail URL as the sending address, but I was at a loss to identify who stud69 @ etc. etc. might be. I checked the date … my wife had sent it six months ago. I shuffled through the thick pile of pages, stopped at another. The date on this one was only ten days ago. It read, 'My beautiful Randy, it breaks me up that I won't be able to see you this weekend. It's Mal's 40th birthday and all the family is coming over. It will be hard going without my weekly dose of your wonderful thick cock. I don't know how I will get through next week. Randy my love, the only consolation for me is that by being forced to exist without having you fuck me stupid this Saturday, my need for your hard driving cock will be twice as great by next week. So you better be up to it, Saturday's matinee will be so much more intense.' "What is this?" I asked aloud, "Saturday matinee … your wonderful thick cock … fuck me stupid … Jill doesn't talk that way, she couldn't have written this. And Saturday's, she has the script meeting every Saturday to prepare for taping the next week's scenes. She surely wouldn't have time to be doing something like this with whoever this Randy character is." I leafed through the pages, there must be over a hundred and the messages were similar on each e-mail page. It was bizarre to me that my wife – who I thought to be my perfectly devoted and loyal wife – would write such lurid messages of enjoying sex to another man. 'What's more,' I pondered, 'why would she run such a risk by printing them out and leaving them in a bag in our home?' I put the blue folder to one side and rummaged deeper into the garbage bag. There I found a red folder and opened it up, discovering another thick sheaf of A4 pages. At the top of the top page, I saw that the sender this time was that same stud69 email address and these were all sent to my wife's work e-mail. These must be the other half of this clandestine relationship. I read part of the first message, 'Pumpkin, your cunt is like a liquid velvet-lined sleeve that sucks my cock into it and won't release me until I have pumped my life-giving nectar into your vital parts, giving you the energy to exist through another week. Every day without experiencing your carnivorous cunt is like being consigned to a prison away from all life's necessities. I crave for our Saturday's together.' "What a load of crap," I muttered to myself out loud, then looked around me to check that neither my wife nor kids were close enough to hear my disgust at reading the thoughts of this man whom I assumed must be my wife's lover. But who was this Randy with a pompous stud69 title? Obviously a pseudonym and I assumed that Pumpkin must be his name for my wife, since I had noticed on all of her e-mails to the lover, she had signed them just P. 'What am I going to do about this … and how long has this been going on?' I mulled over these important considerations. 'Why would she be so blatant as to leave these around where I could find them? Although, she didn't really, I did have to climb up into the top of the closet to get this bag down. She must have thought they were well hidden. But still, why leave such damaging evidence of an affair lying around?' My next task was to try to find out when this had started. I sifted through both folders, finding the earliest dates that seemed to be common in both. It looked to be 18 months ago. In fact, this earliest e-mail from my wife to Randy read: 'To tell you that I was surprised would be an understatement when you took me around the back of the set last night. What a strong young man you are, to be able to hold my body up like that and still give me two of the most powerful orgasms I have ever felt. I am going to call you Randy in case anyone should find this message. Only I will know your true identity. I know I shouldn't put anything like this in writing, but I had to tell you how wonderful and alive you made me feel. That was so exciting, I have never had sex like that, suspended in a man's arms, clinging on to him while his magnificent thick cock plundered me. You know I am going to want it again – and again – and maybe even again. When do you think we can get together next? Randy my love, please don't boast to anybody else on the show that you fucked the director. I cannot afford to have any friction on the set. You truly are my leading man.' 'You are my leading man,' I questioned, 'does that mean her lover is the leading man in the series? That would make him Jeremy Jackson, but surely not … he's only late twenties, maybe thirty at a pinch. What would Jill and a young stud like that have in common? Stud, there's me calling him a stud, because his looks do fit the mental picture one would have of a stud. Maybe that's why his e-mail is stud69.' I continued scanning through the pages, speed reading the paragraphs, trying to confirm the identity of the man who had captured my wife's affections. 'The prick, I'll teach him a lesson if I can establish who it is. Surely they have been careless in one of these messages.' At last, I found a reference to the lover's 29th birthday and how Jill was going to give him his present when they met on the following Saturday. 'Your clue is it's something that you've wanted to do with my body since we met. I have decided that you have earned the honour of taking my sole remaining virginity. At last, my darling Randy, my arse will be all yours. No man, not even Mal, has been inside my virgin arse. I am a little bit scared, but I know you will be gentle. I have saved this something special just for you. Treat it with care.' 'Oh shit no, the number of times that I suggested to her that we try something like that, and she goes and gives it away to this young prick. Well, at least I now know that his 29th birthday was on August 5, so I only need to check Jeremy Jackson's bio on the soap's website to check his age and birth date.' I carefully put everything back where I had found them in the bag and walked back into the house to switch on the computer. I passed through the kitchen where my wife was cooking. "What are you up to, Mal?" she asked cheerily, even giving me a peck on the cheek as I went by her. 'How could she do that, how can she still be so warm and friendly to me when this time yesterday she was in the arms of her young lover, muttering things to him, like I have just read, as if he is God's gift to married women.' I wanted to blurt out something hard and aggressive and vengeful, but I held it all back for now. "I'm just getting some rubbish ready for the tip, honey." "Oh great, I must have some junk under the stairs, don't leave until I've dug it out, will you, darling?" I went directly to the computer and clicked on the website address of my wife's TV production. I went to the bios of the star's section and there was the grinning face of the very handsome young actor, Jeremy Jackson. 'Surely Mrs. Jackson didn't call her son Jeremy, that must be a stage name,' I thought as I searched for his birth date. There it was, August 5, born 1980. 'Twenty nine years old, just a kid! The bastard, rotten young stud shit! And it says he was born Jeremy Alan Jackson. What's' more, the shit is married, been married two years to Nicole Richards, says here they met in high school.' I closed the computer down and headed back outside. To avoid again passing by Jill in the kitchen, this time I cut through the laundry. The basket of dirty clothes waiting for my wife to put them into the washing machine caught my eye. 'I wonder if she would be careless enough to leave the evidence lying around. Maybe, if this affair has been going for 18 months, she has become careless.' I looked around to ensure that neither Jill nor the kids were nearby and then I began sifting through the clothes hamper. I was nearly to the bottom of the container before I pulled out a pair of my wife's panties … they were her only panties in the hamper so I assumed they must have been from yesterday. I checked the inside of the crotch and, sure enough, they were caked with what looked to be an ample quantity of dried cum. Yesterday would have been her Super Saturday with Randy, making up for having missed the one before because of my 40th birthday party. All the signs were there. I went back into the garage and continued poring over the contents of the e-mails. I had become so absorbed in reading the lovey-dovey mush transmitted between the two that I almost didn't hear Jill approaching. I just managed to get the folders back into the bags as my wife entered the garage and dumped some items that she had brought out from under the stairs. "We're never going to use any of these again, darling. Will you take them when you go to the tip?" "Yeah sure!" I answered, finding it hard to be civil toward my wife after all that I had just read. "What's the matter, darling, you seem distracted," she asked, coming right up close to me, so close that I could smell her perfume. She was standing beside the chair I sat in, bending over me, an affectionate hand on my back. "No, I'm fine, honey," I forced himself to smile back at her. She moved around to stand directly in front of me, between my legs, hugging my face to her clothed belly. "I know what your problem is, you're not getting enough good loving. Is that it, darling? Would you like to slip into the bedroom and we'll have a matinee?" 'Matinee, damn her … I had never heard her refer to daytime sex as a matinee before. But there it was, the word she used regularly throughout her e-mails to Randy.' I cringed at hearing her address me similarly to the way she writes to him – her lover, 'How can she do that, talk to me like she talks to him … without any guilt?' I wanted to pull away from her affectionate hold. "So what do you say, Mal? You haven't answered me, don't tell me you're losing your horny disposition. You've always been such a randy bugger. Are you going to knock me back for a quickie?" 'Cheating shit, now she was even using that word randy … the word by which she identified her young lover.' I pulled myself together, "Sorry honey, maybe when we go to bed tonight. I'd feel a bit awkward doing it with the kids around." "Never seemed to bother you before, still it's your call. I could have done with a bit of your stiffie." 'Stiffie … where did she get that word, it had never been in her vocabulary before her affair. And how could she be wanting it today when, according to her e-mails, her Saturday lover fills all her needs, even her newfound anal preference, according to that birthday e-mail.' Jill looked around the mound of rubbish bags in front of her husband, "Are you sure these are all rubbish, darling. Should I go through them just to make sure?" "No, no!" I was quickly insistent, "I'm only discarding stuff of mine." "Well, if you say so. It's just that I've got some personal stuff stored away in bags like that. I'd hate to think that you might discard some stuff that is precious to me." She turned to go and I watched the movement of her still great arse in the summer dress, although the only picture I could conjure up in my mind, was of her bare arse filled with Randy's thick cock. Damn! I realised that Jill might now be heading to the closet to check whether her bag of stuff was still there. I had to get her black garbage bag of incriminating e-mails back into the closet. I called after her as she headed back into the house, "Tell you what, Jill, we will have that quickie. I want you right now." "Oh really, what made you change your mind?" "I caught sight of you with the sunlight coming from behind that dress you're wearing, the outline of your legs and your panties and that untouched arse of yours turned me on. How about I meet you in the bedroom in a couple of minutes. We'll go in separately so it doesn't look suspicious to the kids." "Now you're talking, Mal, see you in there." I watched her go, knowing that I needed to get her into the bedroom to prevent her checking the hall closet. She appeared not to register any reaction to my use of the words 'untouched arse', yet she would know herself that it was no longer untouched by a male organ. She just never expected me to know that. I followed about thirty seconds behind my wife and stopped off long enough to return her black plastic garbage bag, containing her incriminating e-mails, to the closet. Then I entered our bedroom and closed the door behind me. I was alone with my wife for the first time since discovering that she had been cheating on me nearly every Saturday for the past 18 months. Could I do this … could I really get into bed and make love with my sneaky, conniving, cheating wife? I had followed so soon behind her that she was still standing beside the bed taking off her watch. Her dress and bra had already been discarded and she looked up, wearing only her panties. "Do you want to be the one to take these off?" she asked teasingly, her thumbs tucked into her waistband. "No, looks like you've got it," I told her, removing my shirt as I went to my side of the bed, unbuckling my belt. She shed the panties down over her hips and clambered into bed totally naked. "Ooh, I like this, darling … we never do anything impromptu like this. We need this sort of spontaneity to keep our marriage fresh." I found myself dwelling on every word she said, comparing the words she used with what she really must mean, given that she was now committed to a lover. I kicked my trousers away, dropped my boxers and was surprised to see that I already had half an erection. "Umm, what have you been reading out there in the garage?" she teased. "What do you mean?" my guilt-laden over-reaction nearly bringing me undone. Jill looked at me with suspicion, "Only that you're already half big. I wondered if you'd found something raunchy to read that would make you randy." 'There she was again, using her lover's nickname … damn her!' Looking down at my semi-erect cock, her observation made me curious. Indeed, why would I be in an aroused state after reading of her infidelity with Randy. There should be nothing to get turned on about in learning of your wife being with another younger man. She slid her body into my arms when I got into our bed. I didn't feel like making love to my wife, given the revelations that I had just uncovered in the garage. But I was here to keep her from checking that her secret stash was still in the hall closet. Her face and her parted lips told me that my wife wanted to be kissed, so I reluctantly obliged. While I felt that I was being hypocritical in kissing my wife, the melding of our tongues did wonders for my hard-on that had now sprung up to full erection. Wanting this done quickly, I rolled my body on top of Jill's and pushed my legs between hers. "Boy, what's the rush?" she asked, anticipating a longer foreplay that was normal for us. Undaunted, I used my fingers to place my hard round knob at her vaginal opening and pushed. "Can you give me time, darling? I need a minute, we're doing this from a standing start." Shutting out her voice and ignoring her request, I thrust my hard-on into my wife without care or concern. She grunted at the premature entry and tried to adjust her legs around mine to open up her passage. I had gotten it all the way into her vagina with only limited moisture. Still not caring to wait for her body to react, I pulled back and thrust hard again, sinking it once more to the hilt. "Oh Jesus, Mal, what's got into you? Please, not like this … you're always so gentle and caring." "Not this time," I told her as I quickly got into a hard driving rhythm with my cock. Jill was forced to make the most of a bad situation, hanging on for the ride. She didn't have to put up with it for long. My single selfish pursuit this time was getting off inside my wife … and the quicker the better. Jill was even more stunned when she felt my cum blasting at her uterus … too soon it was over. I guessed that she wanted to say a lot to me, starting with how could I be so uncaring, so thoughtless in ignoring her needs. But she held back, watching my face. She had never seen me like this in all the years we had been married. She wouldn't like what she saw here in our bed this Sunday. I imagined that she would be thinking, 'Just as well for Randy, it's just a shame that I've got to wait all the way until Saturday for him to do me like I deserve to be done.' Infidelity and Retribution Chapter Two So my wife of 18 years is cheating on me … a lying, cheating adulteress. How should I handle this information? Do I challenge her about it, bring our marriage to a bitter end. Strangely, I don't want to do that, because she wins. No, what I seek is retribution … I want revenge on the young smart arse who has alienated my wife's affections. I am actually angrier at him than I am at my wife. My first chance to again access the black plastic garbage bag of damning evidence was Tuesday. My wife was at work, but I came home through the day … my work hours are sufficiently flexible through the week that I can disappear from my office for long periods without an inquisition. I again removed the folders of e-mails, took them to my office and photocopied them all before Jill got second thoughts about keeping such revealing information in our closet. I hired a private detective to follow my wife when she left the house, ostensibly heading for her script meeting, the following Saturday. The investigator called me within an hour to advise that she had checked in at a suburban motel. Ten minutes after she arrived, a young man, who the private eye identified as the well known star of the TV soap, drove into the motel and went straight to Jill's room. I immediately left my house and drove to the motel where I took a photograph of the two cars – my wife's and Jeremy's (aka Randy) parked alongside each other, just as their bodies would be in that motel room. I downloaded two pictures that the pi had taken of my wife and Randy arriving at the motel room and thanked him for his work. Then I drove on to Jeremy's house … my wife had once pointed it out to me when we drove past it. I arrived there just before noon and rang the bell. His young and very attractive wife, Nicole, answered the front door. We had met before, but only once. I wasn't sure if she would remember me. I was quite surprised when she greeted me with "Mr. Anderson, what are you doing here?" "Nicole, I need to talk to you about something very personal, have you got time to talk to me now?" Without hesitation, she threw the screen door open, "Yes of course, please come in." I did and began to follow her into the lavish beachside house that came with the success that her errant husband had achieved in TV stardom. This young woman was stunning, blonde hair that looked like it could be long, but was all piled up on her head. She had a fabulous figure that curved in all the right places … and long legs that went all the way up to that arse. As I walked behind her, I wondered if that arse could be her best feature … the way it moved. I pictured it naked and I admired the cheeks that rolled separately … she wore a summer dress that seemed to cling to her body. "I was about to get myself some lunch, can I offer you anything?" "That's very kind of you, but I'm okay. I've sort of lost my appetite," I told her, not wasting time on getting to the reason for my visit. "Oh, why is that?" We reached the living room and she pointed me toward a lounge chair. "I'll get to that in a moment, but first of all, I am honoured that you remembered me … we only met once. Did I make a lasting impression, or am I known as that famous TV director Jill Anderson's husband?" "No, not at all … I remember you because I thought at the time that you were quite a handsome man. And you seemed to have a good sense of humour, I think that is so important in a man. I remember us talking about writing, you said that you used to do some. I had always wanted to pursue a career in journalism, but then I met Jeremy. His star was on the rise and the idea of me developing a career took a back-seat to his fame." "Do you resent him for that, Nicole … that his success deprived you of making a name for yourself?" "No, not at all, I admire all that Jeremy has achieved, but I do have occasional what-if moments when I ponder what I might have been able to do." "You never know, circumstances might make it possible for you to follow your dream one day." "That's a funny thing to say, why would you suggest that?" I fidgeted uneasily in the chair, sitting across from the attractive young woman. "Nicole, I don't quite know how to start this … I really wish that I didn't have to tell you, but now that I know, it seems only fair to you to tell you what's been going on … behind our backs." "What … what's going on … what are you talking about?" "Infidelity, Nicole … that's the reason for my visit. My wife and your husband have chosen to ignore their marriage vows and cheat on both of us." "What are you saying … no, Jeremy wouldn't do that." Despite her instant denial, Nicole's eyes had quickly welled up with tears. "Don't say something like that unless you are totally certain … I won't listen to any rumours." "I am sorry, sweetheart, I have wrestled with this all week, I only found out myself last Sunday. I wouldn't dare to tell you unless I was one hundred per cent sure. Where do you think he is right now?" "He's at a script meeting with the production team, like he is every Saturday." I pulled the camera from my pocket and hit the review button, quickly locating the pictures I had from the motel. I got up and walked across to where Nicole was sitting and sat down alongside her, "I took this picture on the way over here. It's the Twin Towers Motel and he's in Room 22 with my wife and I would imagine by now they are fucking each other's brains out. You will see your husband's car and my wife's car conveniently parked alongside each other outside Room 22." I flicked the button to bring up the other two photos, that I got from the pi, of Jill and Nicole's husband arriving at the motel room. The cars hadn't made as much impact as her actually seeing the couple going into that room. She reeled back, her hands clasped over her face as the tears began to roll down her cheeks. "How did you learn about all this?" she asked between sobs. From my bag, I produced a folder full of the photocopied e-mails, "Jill was stupid enough to keep every e-mail she has sent to Randy…" "Who's Randy?" "Oh sorry, Randy is my wife's pet name for your Jeremy … she is Pumpkin to him." "No, I'm Pumpkin, I've always been Pumpkin to him." "Well, in that case, he's not very original, he's given her your name." Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she struggled to wipe them away so she could look through the pile of paper on my lap, "Has he sent e-mails to your wife too?" "Yes, they're all there, she kept them separate though, in two different folders. When I copied them, I threw them all in together." "Do you know how long this has been going on?" she asked, wiping more tears from her cheeks. "It would seem to be 18 months based on the start of the e-mail collection and the wording of that first e-mail." "The lying prick," she was getting angry now. I folded my arm around her shoulders and pulled her head to rest on mine. She was very emotional and she didn't resist. "Let it go, Nicole, I feel your grief too, we're both in the same boat." She did as I suggested and then broke into sobs. We had been sitting forward on the lounge. In the midst of the worst of her sobbing, I gently eased us both against the back of the lounge. For a moment, she tensed in alarm, and I expected she might ask what I was up to. But then, she went with it and just let it happen. She smelled good … real good. I couldn't believe that I was sitting here on the lounge, with my arm around such a beautiful young woman. I brought my other hand up and ran my fingers gently over her hair. "I wish that I didn't have to be the one to tell you … in fact, what I wish more is that there was no story to tell. But you have a right to know before he makes a fool of you, just as my wife has made a fool out of me." Nicole was trying to control her tears now. She brought one hand up to wipe her eyes and then she did a strange thing, her hand played with the buttons on my shirt, appearing to now be encouragingly comfortable with my arm around her. "No Malcolm, you did the right thing … as much as it hurts, I had to be told. So what's going to happen now?" "Well honey, I consider my marriage is shot to bits, even though I haven't confronted Jill yet. I don't know if she has a plan for when she got caught. It's probably too early for you to know what you'll do about it. As for the two of us, I guess we should try to console each other … try to forget about what they're doing with each other in that motel room this very moment." She pulled her head back to look into my eyes, giving me a strange look of suspicion, "What do you mean by consoling each other? And if it means what I think you might mean, how could that do either of us any good?" "Might make us both feel a bit better, physically and mentally," I suggested, "and revenge wise, we could both feel satisfied that we're giving them back some of their own medicine." She still looked at me with suspicion, like maybe I was taking advantage of a bad situation … I guess I was. But to my surprise, she let her head fall back into the crook of my neck, seeming to snuggle herself in a bit closer to me on the lounge. We sat there in silence for many minutes, it might have been ten, but it had to be at least five. "So I'm just curious, Malcolm, you seem to think that we should do the same as them. But what would happen if you and I did do it now? Would we each confront them when they get home and tell them what we'd done?" "I haven't thought it through that far," I confessed. "So are you saying that you did or didn't come here with a plan in mind?" "It wasn't cut and dried, Nicole. I really came here to tell you what was going on because it was only fair that you should know … and to offer you a shoulder to cry on. And I'm real pissed at your husband, so I guess, if the circumstance arose, then yes, I thought maybe we could do it." "Do you feel anything for me, Malcolm … or are you just an opportunist taking advantage of a bad situation?" "Obviously, I find you to be a beautiful young woman so I have to admit I desire you greatly. I am also hurting big time by the way my wife has treated me, as no doubt you are by what Jeremy has done. So revenge is a key factor in my mind at this time. In the cold light of day, it possibly won't do anything to remedy the situation, but for an hour or so, it could make you and I feel extremely good." "Can you guarantee that, Malcolm?" "I'd say so, Nicole," I told her, relishing the chance to try. She pulled her head up off my shoulder once more and eyeballed me from one foot away, looking deeply into my eyes. I wondered what she was thinking … was she weighing up the prospect of vengeful adultery that I had just put to her? Without uttering one word to me, she stood up and held one hand out toward me. I took it and she began to walk, towing me along like a recalcitrant schoolboy. I didn't know the layout of their house, so I was unaware if I was being taken into a bedroom or out the front door. Until we reached the stairs that led up to what I assumed would be the bedrooms would be. At the top of the stairs, we turned and entered what had to be the master bedroom, the room she shared with her Jeremy. As the two of us passed by the bed, she let my hand go and I stopped there … that's where I wanted to be. She continued on alone to the window where she drew the curtains closed. Once upon a time, I would have been supremely confident at this stage, sensing that I was about to get laid, but many years of marriage, and the familiarity of only being with one woman, had altered my perspective. Now, finding myself alone with a beautiful woman - at least a decade younger than me - was placing unexpected pressure on me not to stuff this up. This young woman would be feeling extremely vulnerable and needed me to act responsibly. Damn it, if I was acting responsibly, I wouldn't have come here and hit on her … but this was my half-baked scheme to get back at the young man – her young man - who had stolen the affections of my wife. I wanted to see this beautiful young woman while I made love to her, yet she had just darkened the room, shutting the daylight out. I switched on a bedside lamp and turned to face her as she returned from the window and walked right up to me, standing to one side of her bed … the massive bed that she shared with her husband. She lifted one hand and did something at the back of her head that caused her hair to suddenly tumble down to her shoulders. She shook her head the way women do when they have just freed their long hair and it cascaded back and forth around her shoulders. "That's nice," I told her, anxious to break the silence of the bedroom. "What is?" she asked, appearing to be nervous too. "Your hair, I like it down … I like the shine … I like the way it flows down around your shoulders. You look even prettier now, if that's possible." "Thank you!" she acknowledged, appearing to blush. She lowered her face and buried it against my chest, giving me a chance to place both hands on her back, holding her to me. "I'm very nervous," she mumbled against my chest, "I haven't had another man since I married Jeremy … I'm not sure if I can go through with this." She lifted her face and, up close, looked into mine, "Would you be very disappointed if I have to stop?" "Of course I would, but I don't want to make you do anything you're not comfortable about." We still looked intently into each other's eyes, looking for signs, our faces close. "It might help if you kiss me … would you do that?" she asked. Without hesitation, I did. It was a positive sign, but I felt inept that she had to tell me to do it. The kiss began with just a touching of closed lips, so chaste. But then my lips began to nibble on hers and she let them part. The space was just enough for me to squeeze the tip of my tongue through, making electric contact with hers. She opened her mouth wider … and the kiss became much more passionate. My hands roamed over her back, gripped her arse and pulled her against me, urging her to feel the bulge in my trousers like a teenager would. Her hands were active too, they wrapped around my back, content to hold me to her while our lips and tongues clashed torridly. I continued to hold her clothed arse cheeks in my hands, pulling her against my groin. She seemed to push back, grinding her pubis into mine. This seemed encouraging and I wanted her naked as soon as possible. Our mouths and tongues were still interlocked in rapturous passion, but I wanted more … and now. I tore my mouth away and transferred my mouth to her neck, planting love bites and looking down her back, able to now watch my hands slowly tugging her light summery dress up higher and higher. Drawing the hem up her thighs, out over the prominent twin mounds of her arse, eventually scrunching the material of her dress into one of my hands at the back of her waist. My other hand pushed into the waistband of her panties, my fingers at last able to lightly caress the smooth soft skin of her pale arse cheeks. She whimpered at my caressing touch. Emboldened, I pushed one finger into the crease of her arse, insinuating it into the tightness between her cheeks until my fingertip touched her anus. "You're a very naughty man," she told me as my mouth continued to work on the skin of her neck. "Why?" "For touching me there," she whispered sensually and I felt her arse cheeks clench tightly on my probing finger. "I'm only doing what feels good to me," I told her, giving my lips and tongue a short break. "That's some fine tight arse you've got, I can't believe he doesn't appreciate it." She tensed and I was fearful that I had said the wrong thing. "You don't need to talk about him. I don't want to be reminded of where he is … and what he might be doing." I felt her hands moving from around my back where they had held my body tightly against hers. They slid around each side of my hips and met again at my waist, managing to squeeze between our bodies. I felt her fingers busy at my belt and eased myself back away from her, giving her hands more room to move. I knew that she had unzipped my trousers because, to do it, her fingers needed to pass down over my hard-on that was squashed upright within my underpants. My middle finger was still wedged into her arse cleavage, the tip clamped against her tiny anal opening. "Do you touch every woman like this?" she asked. "You mean on her arse," I checked. "Feels like you're almost in it." "Would you like me to be?" She pulled her head back away from mine so she could look up into my eyes, "Umm … not now … maybe a bit later. Can I take a rain-check?" What was that fool Jeremy doing in that motel room with my wife when he had such a hot sexy woman here at home? I felt her hand pulling the top of my underpants out and over my erection, freeing it from the confines of my clothing. She wrapped her soft warm hand around it, holding it gently and with respect, "Feels really nice," she said, fondling it. I eased my finger out of her arse, letting her dress fall back down, transferring my hand's attention to the buttons at the top of her dress, in front. I managed to get it to part down the front and quickened the process of undressing her by pushing the dress off her shoulders. Only her bra separated my lips from her nipples. For a moment, I was content to kiss them through the sheer material of her bra before lifting the cups out of the way and suckling on her orbs. The lovely young Nicole was obviously feeling weak from my oral attention to her breasts … I could feel her body pulling back away toward the bed. I allowed myself to go with her. Within seconds, she was on her back, one leg up and bent at the knee, the other hanging over the side of the bed … but she was still wearing her panties. Her move to the bed had caused her hand to lose its hold on my hard cock. Prominently stiff, it waggled above her, capturing her avid attention. "Umm … that looks as good as it feels," she told me, her words seeming to fulfil my expectations. "I'm glad you approve." "Would you like for me to suck you?" she asked as if she was offering me a cup of tea. "That would be nice," I agreed, not wanting to miss out on anything. She lifted her head and shoulders, supporting her upper body on her elbows. I eased my body forward, bringing the tip of my erection up to her parted lips. She closed those succulent lips around the head of my cock and with mouth and tongue, began to give me a near perfect blow job. How good could this get? She was sensational … she was ten years younger than my wife … but she wasn't my wife. I could very easily let her take this to a logical conclusion, but there was so much else I wanted to share with young Nicole. When I sensed that the feel of her mouth around my cock was becoming way too addictive, I pulled back my hips, causing my hard eager cock to plop free of her grasping mouth. "Please, let me do it all?" she pleaded, obviously wanting to go on with what she had started. "Plenty of time for that later," I told her, pushing her back onto the bed once more. I hovered above her hot body, gazing down on all that was displayed before my eyes. I reached down and grasped the waistband of her panties and tugged them down. She willingly – albeit eagerly – raised her hips to let her final covering slip away. Infidelity and Retribution Nicole resumed the previous position, one leg raised and bent at the knee, the other straight out, falling over the side of the bed. She slowly spread her thighs as I watched, the moistened lips of her labia opening, parting to expose the pink inner lining. It took all of my restraint not to position my now hard cock and plunge it into this receptive young woman, but I controlled that lustful wanting and instead began lowering my mouth toward her awaiting pubis. "You don't have to…" she warned. "It's not expected, just because I sucked you." "Are you kidding me? This is my favourite thing, I love the taste, the aroma, I love to feel all the good bits under my tongue and between my lips." Her whole body shuddered at my words, "Umm … that's good, because some men don't like to do it, you know." "So I've heard. Well, don't count me as one of them … and I don't think it smells fishy, either." She talked of some men as if she was highly experienced. Had she enjoyed other men since marrying Jeremy, or was she referring to men she might have known before him. I made a mental note to ask her later. My tongue tip touched down and her body jumped in reaction to it. I then swiped the flat of my tongue up along the spread of her labia and was met with an even stronger reaction. She moaned and her body wriggled under my oral contact. "Oh my God, that's so nice!" My tongue laved her all the way to the top of her crease and I licked her emerging clitoris too. That got an even stronger response, "Oh yes!" I lifted my lips from her clit momentarily, "Sounds like you approve…" "Don't stop," she screamed at me, "Not even to talk … just do it!" Her hands took a firm hold on my ample supply of hair, tugging my face in tighter to the inverted vee at the top of her thighs. I found difficulty in breathing with my face mashed against her mons. I stuck out my flattened tongue to swipe it once more up over her clit. She shuddered in response, emitting a sensual moan … but otherwise said nothing. I pressed on to bring my wet lips into play, sucking as well as licking her hardened clitoris. Her lower body humped rapidly up at my face that was squashed between her clamping thighs, my tongue riding her all the way to a peaking arousal that culminated in a powerful throbbing finish for Nicole. When I lifted my mouth from her delectable pubis, I looked up to her face to see her smiling appreciatively. "Perhaps my excuse for enjoying it so much is that no man has ever done me as effectively as that before. Can you accept that?" "If you tell me that it's so," I told her. Her wonderful breasts were within range of my vision … and within range of my mouth as I moved down to devour them, intent on bringing Nicole's arousal back to the surface. My cock was pulsing too from my own arousal. Her nipples became very hard, my lips and tongue gorged myself on them. Her eagerly responsive body was close again … and I was more than ready. I left her breasts and concentrated on lining up my firm erection for entry into this delightful young woman. Her body was highly active and into this from the moment the head of my cock slid all the way home inside her vagina. Nicole gave off the impression that she was a highly sexual woman. No wonder my seduction of her had seemed easier than I had anticipated. In spite of her grief at my devastating news about her marriage, she was going to get the most out of this casual sexual encounter. My wife had certainly never been like this woman … her supple body moved around beneath mine, making her more than just an active participant. It was like she was trying to run the show from under my body. Her next two peaks of orgasm were enormous … she was loud and breathless … and looked to derive maximum satisfaction from the act. When I could no longer hold myself back, I took my pleasure inside her body without guilt. I was just a mature man enjoying a unique sexual experience in the body of a woman ten years younger than me. I never held back, blasting my cum deep inside her, not even conscious that this was a woman in the midst of her child-bearing years, who may have preferred I use some form of protection against pregnancy. She never raised an objection as she felt my warm cum spurting up inside her, so I assumed that she had long-term protection well in hand. We lay together in the after-glow … neither of us spoke. I guess we were reflecting on the fact that we were both now as guilty of infidelity as our respective partners. One coupling seemed to be enough for this first day of adultery between us. As we dressed again, we discussed how we each intended to handle the newly discovered 18 months long conduct of our spouses. Nicole's initial reaction was to confront Jeremy tonight, while her anger was at its strongest. I urged her to consider sleeping on it for a few days, reflecting on how she could achieve the best outcome for herself. "Do you want him back … do you want him to stay with you? If you do, then you need some time to work out the best approach to achieve that aim. On the other hand, Nicole, if you can be certain that your marriage is over, that you cannot forgive him for regularly fucking my wife, then confront him as soon as you want, and kick his arse out of the house. Go get yourself a lawyer and secure your financial future." "You're right, I need to think about this first, maybe talk to my mum and dad…" As I slipped my shoes back on, she walked across to me, "…maybe even have you come here again next Saturday." She was smiling warmly, like she had thoroughly enjoyed her hour or two spent in the arms of another man. I was pleased with what had happened here today. I had come here, bent on revenge against the young man that had stolen the affections – and maybe even the love – of the woman who I had ostensibly married forever. Although, given the current circumstances, forever was looking extremely shaky. We made a firm commitment for me to come around for lunch the following Saturday – and whatever accompanying condiments that might entail. Chapter Three My pursuit of Jeremy's wife was only the first step in alienating the affections of the women around him. I sent the private investigator out on a second mission, to uncover the movements of Jeremy's mother. On Thursday morning, he called me to report, "Can you get away, Mr. Anderson … I mean right now?" "I think I can swing that … why, what's happening?" "Your target is out on her own, she appears to be food shopping … I just followed her to a supermarket on Glen Street, not far from your office." "I'll meet you outside in ten," I told him and left my office immediately, telling my pa that I had an urgent client meeting that might also involve lunch. "I'll see you when I see you," I informed her non-committally. I met the investigator outside the supermarket within eight minutes, he showed me a photo he had taken of Jeremy's mother a few minutes ago. I noted the clothes that she was wearing to help me identify her. I thanked him and proceeded inside, taking a trolley to push around to look like a genuine shopper. Although how typical would I be, in my smart and neat suit and tie with crisp white shirt? I spotted her down the fourth aisle I had tried, she was walking away from me so I was able to approach her from behind. This was the loving mother of the adulterous prick who was fucking my wife, and she had quite a good figure for a woman of, I would guess, around 55. She curved in all the right places and, wearing a skirt, not slacks, I could see that her legs still had a good shape about them. The plan had seemed easy in my mind, that was warped by the actions of my wife in spending every Saturday with her lover Jeremy … I would simply respond by seducing every woman that was near and dear to him. I had his wife and looked like having her again on Saturday, but now I was standing only a trolley's length behind my second target, his mother. I became nervous, unsure if I could do this now. She stopped in the Toiletries aisle and I pushed my still empty trolley alongside hers that was now half full with assorted groceries. "Excuse me," I said to the surprised woman, "Can I just lean across your trolley to get something." She turned and gave me a warm, engaging smile, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be blocking the aisle." "No problem, I could have stood back and waited for you … but I find where there's an attractive mature woman, you take the opportunities that are presented to you." "What exactly does that mean?" "Just what I said … I like talking to lovely women and if one is standing in front of one of the items that I came in to buy, why not go right ahead and tell her that she is attractive." "Well, thank you very much, that's very nice of you. I don't hear that sort of comment much these days." "Well you should." "I particularly don't hear it from men as young as you." She had already looked at me closely enough to deduce that there was a considerable age gap … could she see that it was as much as 15 years? "I'm older than I may appear," I suggested, not wanting to discourage her by appearing to be too young for her. She glanced down at my empty trolley, "You don't appear to have bought much in here." "I hadn't seen anything I wanted…" I paused while I pointedly looked her up and down, "…until now," I added, giving her a warm smile and stretching across her trolley to take a bottle of male deodorant off the shelf. I wasn't that subtle, she would have to pick up on the double entendre. "And now you have," she said, watching me take the deodorant bottle off the shelf. "Have what?" I asked, feigning ignorance. "Seen something that you want." "I sure have!" I told her, my look laced with innuendo. "Surely you're not that enthusiastic about a bottle of deodorant?" "The deodorant is just an inanimate object … no, what I saw when I came down this aisle - and what I desired - is a living, breathing mature woman." "Really!" she smiled with assurance, accepting my compliment. "That's a very nice thing to tell an older woman … but what did you really come in here looking for?" "I could say an exciting adventure, but the supermarket seems an unlikely place for that." She looked bemused, but was probably even more so when I reached across her again and my fingers handled one of the condom packs on the shelf in front of her, "I wonder if these come in extra large." She had to laugh this time, "How often do you try out these lines?" I placed my hand on my heart, "I swear, this is the first time … never before," and I gave her my most genuine look. "Why me then? Look around you, check out all those pretty young housewives, your own age or younger … they might buy your pick-up lines." "They probably have gym class to go to after this, maybe even screaming kids at home. But you, I walked up behind you, checked out your figure … I must admit that I thought you had the figure of a younger woman. Then I saw your face, you're so beautiful. I had a sudden urge to talk to you … I promise that I have never done this before … it was a spur of the moment thing. Now you can tell me to piss off if you want, but how about having a coffee with me?" "I can't believe this … are you serious? Are you really trying to pick me up? You must be twenty years younger than me." "I'll bet I'm not … I had my fortieth birthday not two weeks ago. How old are you?" She looked to be taken aback, "You don't ask a woman her age, particularly not a woman of my age." "Why, what are you, late forties, I should think?" She looked at me unbelievingly, not accepting that I might consider that she looked under 50, "You're still chatting me up, aren't you?" "No, seriously, there's not such a big gap between us." She looked around her nervously, as if fearful that someone may hear this conversation. "I'm 53, so there is a gap of thirteen years." That was good, she was now assessing how big the age difference was. Her thought pattern seemed to be crossing the path of my illicit intentions. "So what about that coffee?" I was pressing her for a commitment. "Here at the mall, or back at your place?" "My place?" she almost screamed it at me, probably in shock that I would suggest invading her personal space. I chose to read it the other way, "Good call, your place it is," I responded quickly and with confidence. "No, no! I didn't mean that to sound like I was agreeing by saying my place. I was just repeating what you had said … I was shocked that you would suggest it." "Why shock?" "I was genuinely shocked that a man I've never met before would dare to chat me up in the supermarket … that this man would be more than ten years younger than me ... and that he would actually invite himself to my home." "Don't you find the prospect exciting … alone in your own home, with a younger man that you have only just met. All the time wondering what he might expect from you … and you, considering what you might have to give to him." Jeremy's mother again looked around nervously, wondering if other customers in the supermarket could hear this young man attempting to seduce her without even having touched her yet. "So shall we go then?" I asked of her. She looked apprehensive, "Err … oh dear, I don't know if I should." "It's just coffee," I explained and I thought that she looked disappointed by that. I peered into her trolley, "Have you got everything that you came in for?" "Oh, I guess so … what about you? You don't seem to have bought much." I reached across her again and took the 12 pack of extra thin condoms off the shelf, "Am I going to need these?" "Please yourself," she responded, but with a glint in her eye. I leaned in close to her ear, "I'd like to please someone more than myself." Her nervousness returned, her eyes revealing that she was tempted, but that she was still unsure of what she wanted. We both headed for the checkout, then walking from the supermarket through the mall to her car. I helped by placing her bags of shopping on the back seat of her car. "Do you want to give me your address, or should I just follow you in my car?" "You really are serious, aren't you? You're expecting to come to my house for a cup of coffee … or whatever?" "I'll have a serve of whatever please," I said, trying to give her my most engaging smile. She still appeared nervous, but she managed to express a laugh at my attempted humour. She paused to look all around the vast car park. I didn't know if she was apprehensive whether somebody she knew might see her, or if she was using the time to contemplate whether she wanted this. It seemed an eternity before she turned back to face me and make eye contact, "How about you follow me?" So I did, I hurried across to my car and drove it back to where hers was parked. She was still there. I had thought that she might experience a moment of guilt and take off before I had brought my car around. I followed her for about three kilometres to a nice looking house in one of the better suburbs. She pulled into the driveway, but I drove one house beyond and pulled up at the kerb, respecting any concerns that she may have about neighbours seeing us. I sat in my car, watching through the rear-view mirror as she bent over into her car to retrieve her bag of groceries. Her skirt rode up to mid thigh at the back … she had good legs for a 53 year old. My thoughts wandered for a moment, wondering what the sex with her was going to be like. Would she be hot and participate fully … or lay back inactive and worry about what her husband might say if he knew what she was doing? This was a whole new experience for me, I had never had an older woman. Watching her walk to the front door of her house, I quickly got out of my car and hurried across her lawn to the same door. She had left it open and I stepped inside, closing it behind me. The house was quiet and there was no clue as to which way she had gone. I checked out the front living room but she wasn't there. I walked down the hallway, looking in and passing the dining room, then found a kitchen. Her bag of groceries was sitting on the kitchen table, but she was nowhere to be seen. I continued on down the hallway, peeping in doors until I at last spotted her up ahead of me, standing in the doorway of the last room at the end of the hall. She was leaning back against the doorjamb, her body thrust seductively forward by having her hands and arms back behind her. She looked to be playing the game now. "You don't really want coffee, do you?" she asked. "No!" I admitted. "What do you want then?" "You!" "That appears to be obvious, but why … why me? Do you do this often?" I placed my hand on my heart, "I swear that I have never done this before. I went into the supermarket just to buy something," I lied, "but I have to admit that I was quite horny this morning. Walking up behind you, I really liked what I saw…" "What in hell did you see?" "Just what appeared to be a good looking woman … good figure, nice arse, good legs." "Thank you, that's very nice, but what would your wife think about you being here?" By now, I had reached her, standing myself directly in front of where she lounged back against the door jamb, placing my hands on her waist, our eyes each probing the other's. "I recently found out that she's been cheating on me, so I don't give a fuck what she thinks." Her face showed sympathy toward me, "Oh you poor man, I am so sorry. Do you know the man that she's been doing it with?" "Yes I do," I told her, wondering what she would say if I added, 'It's your arrogant shit of a son.' "Have you confronted them?" "Not yet." "Are you going to?" "I will when the time is right." "So you thought you'd take similar action. Have you thought about whether your retaliation might affect another marriage … say mine, since we're both standing in the doorway of my bedroom." "I did give that a thought … is there a husband?" "Yes there is, we've been married for 31 years." "God, that sounds like a life sentence … do you still love him?" "Yes I do actually, after all these years … and that probably makes you wonder why I am standing here, letting a strange man into my house … into my bedroom." "Since you've mentioned it, yes … what do you want from this?" She brought an arm around from behind her body and ran her hand up and down one of my arms that held her waist quite firmly. "I want to feel good … I want to feel the way I used to feel when he and I made love. We don't do it much any more and it hasn't been fulfilling for years. I've thought about whether he's doing it somewhere else, and I think that's highly likely." "Do you care if he is?" "I did … but I don't think I will anymore if you can make me feel good." "Wow, thanks for heaping the pressure on me." "I have to admit that I'm very nervous about this, about having a younger man in my house, a man who has already signalled his intentions about what he wants. I nearly drove the wrong way coming home, to lead you on a wild goose chase until I could lose you at some traffic lights. That's why I didn't give you my address, just told you to follow me. I was leaving myself an out in case I changed my mind." "I am pleased to see that you didn't." "So am I now," she said and she brought her other arm around from behind her body and used both hands to reach up and take my tie off, undoing the buttons on my shirt. When she had my shirt open down the front, she pushed the two sides apart and ran her hands over my bare chest, "You've got a good body, that's nice." Infidelity and Retribution I ran my hands up from her sides, passing them over her breasts until they met at the top button of her blouse, beginning to release the buttons. "It's been so long since any man other than my husband touched me intimately … would you mind touching me a lot?" "I will," I assured her. "…and kissing too! I want lots and lots of kissing," she added to her needs. I had her buttons open now and I spread the blouse to see the bra that encased her ample breasts. It was cotton and white and had seen better days. She looked down at my hands fondling her bra, "Oh, this is so embarrassing, this has to be my oldest and crappiest bra. I wish I could have worn something sexy and alluring for you. But of course, when I got dressed this morning, I didn't know, that within hours, I would be back here with a younger man – a stranger - feeling him touching my breasts." "Don't stress out, I'm not fussed about the covering, I'm more interested in what's underneath." I pushed my hands around her back and fumbled beneath the tail of her blouse to unclasp her bra hook. The bra fell forward and my hands returned to the front to push the material out of the way so that I could gaze upon her 53-year-old breasts. Obviously, they were no longer perky, but they were quite good, didn't sag too much. I ducked my head forward and latched my lips onto her left orb. She sighed appreciatively. "Oh, that's so nice, can you do plenty of that?" There was no need to answer her, I intended to do plenty of that. I intensified the efforts of my lips, tongue and teeth and she brought her hands up to hold the back of my head to her body. Jeremy's mother was responding eagerly, her loud panting breaths told me that she liked what I was doing to her. The fact that she kept thrusting her chest forward, encouraging me to devour more of her fine breasts confirmed it too. We were still in the doorway to her bedroom. She had told me that sex with her husband was no longer fulfilling. I assume that she meant that she no longer came. But had she come when she and her husband were younger … or was she not an orgasmic woman? From the sound of her breathing, I wondered if I might be able to get a climax from her before I even touched her clitoris. Her body was issuing a challenge to me … was I up to the task? Despite the loud panting breaths, whenever she sounded like she was getting close, the arousal died away. I needed to use more ammunition. Without removing my mouth from her nipples, I dropped both hands down to the hem of her skirt and began to slide them up her bare legs under her clothing. First my fingers stroked up the outside of her thighs … then I dropped them back down to her knees and began again, this time on the soft smooth insides of her thighs. In eager acceptance, I felt her shuffle her feet wider apart, opening up the access for my hands to reach her pubis easily. She was hot! My fingers traced up over the smooth skin of her thighs, not stopping until they touched her panties. They felt damp to my touch … this woman was getting wet, just from my touching and my kissing of her breasts. "Umm … I'm feeling good," she murmured to me between gasping breaths, "but I want to feel better." "You will," I promised. "The bed, it would be better in bed," she urged, wanting to change our location. "Wherever you want," I agreed. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in bed too?" she sounded like she wanted me to share in the complicity of this adultery that was about to take place … as if it might free her of any guilt she might feel later. "I didn't know if I could come in?" She opened her eyes wider, "In my room … or in me?" she asked with suggestive eyes. "Both!" "I wasn't sure back at the supermarket if I wanted this … but I know I want you now." I withdrew my hands from under her skirt. "Don't stop," she almost screamed at me, "Oh God, please don't stop. I haven't felt this good in ages." I took her hand in mine and pulled her into the room, her own bedroom, across to her large bed. I turned to her and fumbled at her waist, looking for some clasp or button that I could release that would shed her skirt. Her hand came up to help mine and the skirt dropped to pool at her feet. Her cotton panties were as tatty as the bra. "My God, I never wanted any man to see me in these, not even my husband, let alone a lover," she was blushing as she removed them herself, trying to get rid of them quickly, hooking her thumbs in the waistband and pushing them down over her hips. "Is that what I am now … your lover?" I checked. "Well, aren't you … isn't that what we're about to do … make love?" "You got it!" I confirmed. She was almost naked and she made it complete by allowing the blouse to slip from her shoulders. "What about you? I've been married for so long that I don't know who does what these days. Do I take your pants off, or will you?" I pushed my shirt from off my shoulders the way she had removed her blouse … my trousers were all that was barring total nudity. "I've got them," I told her as I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my trousers. They fell at my feet. Her eyes noted the tenting of my boxers and she backed herself onto the bed, her eyes never leaving my bulge. "That looks promising. I've only ever seen the same one for thirty years, I'm fascinated to see if there's a difference." "Surely the difference will be in how it performs for you … not in how it looks." She was lying back on the bed now, resting on her elbows, looking up at me as I stood beside the bed, her eyes nervously flitting between my eyes and the bulge in my shorts. I dropped the boxers and heard her gasp … was this going to be a compliment? "What's wrong?" I asked. "It is different!" "What do you mean … how is it different?" I asked, my eyes dropping down to look at what she could see, wondering to what she was referring. My cock was hard and erect, it looked normal to me. "Is that circumcised?" "Yes … yes it is! Haven't you ever seen one like this before?" I was incredulous that a mature woman's knowledge of sex might be so limited. "No I haven't, my husband wasn't done, and neither was…" she paused, seeming to be reluctant to finish the sentence. "Neither was who or what?" "I'm sorry, I realised how stupid I'm sounding. I just didn't want to say that I've only ever had one other man besides my husband. Isn't it amazing … a grown woman of 53 has only had two men in her entire life. God, what a sheltered existence I've had. What must you think of me?" "I don't think anything at all about that. It's been your life. If you didn't feel the need for any more than two men, then so be it." "But that's just it, I should have had more … because those two men have not fulfilled my needs." "Are you sure about that?" "Yes I am, because friends of mine have told me how the earth moves with a good man. I've never felt the earth move." I stepped forward and kneeled on the side of the bed, my hard erection waving to her as I got closer. "I shouldn't be putting pressure on you," she said, looking up at me, watching my approach anxiously, "but do you think that you could try to make the earth move for me?" I bent down over her naked body, bringing my mouth up close to her lips, my cock with a wet tip touching her bare belly, causing her to gasp and flinch nervously. "I'm sure I can," I told her. I kissed her with passion, open mouths eager and adventurous, tongues wrestling within while I moved my cock without any assistance from my hands to have it slot into the groove of her parted labia lips. She was making whimpering sounds that I took to be expressing her pleasure. My hard-on was sluicing through her wet nether lips, her body felt responsive. I wanted it to be inside her and now … but I also wanted to be good for her, to give her what she wanted from this experience. For that, I knew there had to be a long foreplay. I was still filled with fury over Jeremy alienating my marriage and I was lashing out, attempting to capture the affections of those nearest and dearest to the young shit. Rampant urgent sexual fulfilment won out over all else, I pushed my hard cock into her deep passage, pausing for her to adjust for it to probe inside her painlessly. She sighed and moaned and I knew from that that she wanted this too. I gave her long, driving strokes that played on all the right parts … her g spot up on the roof of her vaginal wall, her extended clit that was being rubbed by the overall movement of my body over hers. I pushed and pulled inside of her body … but I soon came to realise that this woman was going to be different to all the others I had known. My wife, Jill would be about to cum by now … so too would my recent conquest, Nicole, the hot wife of my wife's lover and daughter of the mature woman that lay spread out beneath me, taking only the third man that had ever possessed her body. This was becoming quite a challenge and my confidence was waning. She seemed to want this, I know I certainly did. Yet no matter how firm and deeply enveloping my strokes were, her arousal just didn't look like peaking. "Let yourself go," I whispered to her. "I want to … oh God, how I want to … but it's always like this," she wailed. Without warning, I jerked my cock right out of her body, leaving her body humping up at nothing, "Don't stop now, please … I'm trying, I really am." I moved my head quickly down along her body, my lips leaving grazing pecks at her naked skin. I ducked my head in between her spread legs, my mouth latching onto that protruding clit. "No, not that way … please, not like that." Her hands were trying to push my head out from between her legs. Jeremy's mother was trying to get her legs closed, but my head was already between them and she could only manage to clamp her thighs around my ears. I began licking on her good bits, trying to fire up her interest. "No please, I've never liked having a man's mouth touch me there … I've never liked it this way," her hands were pushing at my forehead, attempting to dislodge me from within the inverted vee at the top of her thighs. "I have never let my husband do this, he gave up trying long ago." I was ignoring her pleas, having no intention of giving up on my quest to switch her body on. I managed to get my hands up above my head, prising her hands away from my forehead, allowing me to settle my face into the clutch of her crotch. Did I hear a sigh … was that a moan? It was hard to tell with her thighs clamped around my ears. I listened above the steady suckling sound my lips made as I gorged on her clitoris … she seemed to have ceased her pleas for me to stop. With my hands no longer having to fight hers off, my fingers slid around under her arse and I stretched them up so I could lick them between my tongue strokes on her spread labia lips. Then I allowed my wet fingers to stroke the inner cheeks of her arse on both sides, running teasingly close to touching her anus. I feared this might be another no-go zone for her. Still, I seemed to have overcome her resistance to my going down on her. I listened to her gasping breaths, it sounded as if her body was building up some arousal once more. I was having more success with my tongue on her pubis than I had done with my cock in her vagina. I pursed my lips, closed them around her clitoris and sucked deeply. I could definitely hear the signs now … she was sighing and moaning. I pressed on, a combination of licking and sucking, I could hear her arousal cresting. Something big should be about to happen deep inside her body, she was humping up at me again. I dared to softly touch her anal ring with two fingers … her whole body jumped. I was sure she wanted to stop my anal invasion, but the throbbing that was building behind her vagina must have been too powerful to resist. If I were to believe her assessment of her sex life to date, this would be a new experience for her. There were no words, either for or against what I was doing to her body … but her loud gasping, panting breaths told me all I needed to know. This woman was in heat and her long awaited climax was close. It had taken every sensual seductive gesture and touch I knew to have her reach this point. Her body seemed to have almost resisted her response. This orgasm would not simply be many minutes or an hour coming … no, it could have been many years in the making. I kept licking and sucking, pushing her body to the limit. She was right, she was not easily orgasmic, although I was now convinced I could get her there at least this once. My own cock that had been happily ensconced inside her vagina, was now wagging around in mid-air, eager to push back into that warm velvet glove. I licked longer strokes along her inner lips, I sucked deeper on her clitoris … and at last, Jeremy's 53-year-old mother achieved an orgasm … a momentous moment for her. Her pubis throbbed and pulsed at my lips and her whole body humped us both up off the bed … vocally she was loud and appreciative. She had been a challenge, but I had managed to get her over the top. I pulled my head up and watched her peak ebbing … then quickly moving my whole body, I thrust my pelvis forward, lodging my cock back into that widely split labia and plunged my hard-on all the way home inside her. There was no holding me back now, I went for gold, driving my cock into her supple body in a series of hard piston-like thrusts, resulting in my cock-head spewing my cum deep inside her. She seemed to be still having little mini spasms that had rejuvenated within her body when my warm cum splashed the walls of her vagina. I collapsed upon her mature body, my cock still firm and filling her admirably as it jerked the last of my creamy discharge. It seemed an eternity until both bodies were still again and our breathing dropped to a steady level of contentment. She was the first to break the silence, "Amazing … that's my only word for it … that was truly amazing." She took my head in her hands and kissed me with enthusiasm and with passion. "You never gave up on me, even when I tried to stop you kissing me down there. I really didn't want you to, I've always hated even the thought of a man's mouth and eyes and nose being there … tasting and seeing and smelling all those secret parts of me." "You did good," I told her, "I knew that you had to have that in you … somewhere. I just had to bring it out." She smiled warmly at me, "You did … and how." She looked to have a moment of reflection, "Those women were right, the earth did move. That's what I've waited most of my life for." "I am pleased that I was able to be the one to unleash your inner fire." Her hands were still holding my head, she kissed again with passion … and open mouth and tongue. "So when can we do it again?" "I could try and get away from the office again this time next week," I offered, eager to arrange a weekly commitment with Jeremy's mother, just as I had with Jeremy's wife. "No silly, I meant now. How long until you can recover? Ten minutes … thirty minutes … an hour? I have to have that sensation again." "Hold on, don't get your hopes up too high. You were right, you don't cum easily, maybe you don't relax enough. That took everything I had to get you across the line." "I believe in you, I know you can do it again." And so we tried. For nearly an hour, we lay alongside each other, working on the foreplay of our next encounter, just affectionately talking, cuddling, caressing, kissing, sucking, licking, touching … until my mouth was at her pubis once more. There would be no objection from her this time … instead of her hands trying to push my head away from her crotch, now they gripped my head firmly and tugged it hard against her pubis. It took a long time, but at last, this woman who had seemingly never had an orgasm before, experienced her second within two hours. I must say that I doubted that she had gone through her entire life to now without having one … maybe she did but with minimal intensity. Nevertheless, she swore to me that she had never experienced a finish anything like these two. This time, after going down on her until she came, I flopped on my back on the bed alongside her and insisted that she sit astride me and ride me until I came. With one cum already under my belt, this second time was longer lasting and with her on top, I was able to lie back and take my time. She worked her body hard above me and I was able to fondle her breasts, occasionally pulling her body down to me so I could suckle her nipples. By the time that I came, she was experiencing little mini trembles, sort of like after shocks from an earthquake. To say that she looked to be enjoying herself was an understatement. The look on her face expressed exquisite pleasure as I finally blew and my cock spasmed up inside her clutching vagina. She struggled to hold herself up. Looking down into my eyes, perspiration trickling down her body and pasting her hair to her forehead, she smiled broadly. "I have become a wicked, sinful woman. You have just done me twice and I don't even know your name." I had to laugh, she was right. My seduction of her was so swift, so complete that we hadn't even introduced ourselves. Of course, I knew who she was, but she didn't know that. "Sorry, I am Malcolm … and besides being an incredibly sexy woman, you are…" "I am Marianne … and am I pleased to meet you." With that, her upper body collapsed onto my chest. I am sure that Marianne would have slept right there, on top of me, with my cock still deep inside her … but I had to be back at work, I had an obligation to my employer. So, after about 20 minutes, I rolled her off me and extricated myself from the bed. "My husband won't be home until seven, you're welcome to stay all afternoon, Malcolm." She said my name for the first time. "And that would be very nice, Marianne, but I do have a job and I do have to get back to it. Please excuse me." I stood up and began to retrieve my clothes, donning each item at the spot where I found it. "When can we do this again? You were so good with me, I have to have you again." "How about this time again next week, I think I can get away from the office." Chapter Four And so my life took on a new routine. On Saturdays, when my wife, Jill left for her supposed script meeting, which was really her Saturday matinee with Jeremy, I would immediately drive over to Jeremy's house and crazily bonk his hot wife, Nicole for hours on end. Then, every Thursday, I would leave the office about eleven, ostensibly with a list of client calls to make, and go round to Marianne's house and give the mother of Jeremy her weekly orgasm. I found I was getting more regular sex now than I had when I was happily married. In fact, Jill obviously still believed that I knew nothing of her affair with the leading man in her TV series, so she tried to maintain regular conjugal events with me. Shame about that, I was getting so much hot sex that I had to refuse quite a bit, claiming a headache or such other malady usually the province of the woman. I would have thought that would make my wife suspicious, but she never showed it. My plan to win the love and affection of every woman Jeremy held dear to him had gone off without a hitch. But after weeks of this sexual merry-go-round, my anger dissipated. I began to question what this was going to achieve. Sure, it would be sweet revenge for me to have both his wife and his mother reveal the name of their lover to him on the same day, preferably as he was about to give it to my wife in his weekly sexual tryst. But in the cold light of day, I began to worry about the effect it might have on these two women when they realised that I didn't really love them, that I had just been using them to get back at Jeremy. Sure, the sex was great with both of them, but certainly not love and not worth ending my marriage to Jill, in spite of her behaviour. Infidelity and Retribution Then, one Thursday, five weeks after meeting Marianne, I was relaxing in her bed after our first sexual encounter for that day. It was quite unseasonably hot and she had elected to have a cool shower between orgasms one and two. She told me she didn't like having a residue of sweat on her body when we got down to our second session. It had been about an hour since I had first cum and my cock had responded favourably, particularly watching the nude Marianne as she walked away from me to the shower. I had almost been tempted to join her there, but instead lazily stayed in her bed, the top sheet thrown back. I never heard the front door, nor a voice calling out, above the noise of the shower running. Suddenly, a young woman appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. "Who the hell are you?" she shouted at me, tentatively walking into the room. "What are you doing in my mother's bed?" I saw her probing eyes darting between my face, my firm and exposed upright erection and the door to the bathroom from where she could hear the water running. I had never heard a mention of a daughter, not that we had a lot of time to discuss families in our fleeting weekly meetings. "Are you Marianne's daughter?" I asked. "At least you know my mother's name…" "Not the first time we did it," I mumbled, never intending for her to really hear the comment. "What did you say?" "Nothing, forget it … so what's your name?" "None of your friggin' business. How long has this been going on?" "About five weeks now." "Does my father know about it?" "I doubt it … I'd say your mum is happy to keep it to herself … that is, unless you have other ideas." "They've been married 31 years, did you know that? And they're very happy together." "Obviously not as happy as you thought. Listen, what is your name, I do like to call someone by their name, particularly if they have as much interest in my cock as you seem to do." "How dare you, I do not … I'd wish that you'd cover it up actually. That's disgusting, lying there exposing yourself like that." "Yeah, yeah … so what about the name?" "I'm Aleesha." Her head turned toward the bathroom when we both heard the water stop in the shower. "So you are Jeremy's younger sister, is that right?" As soon as I said it, I realised what a slip I had made. I had not let on to Marianne that I knew her son's name, or who he was and what he did. We had never discussed her children, which is why I didn't know about this one, the very attractive Aleesha, who was now standing beside the bed in which I lay … and still stealing glances in the direction of my rampant cock. "Yes I am, has mum told you about my successful brother, Jeremy the TV star?" I didn't know how to answer, what if they compared notes later? "Err no, she hasn't actually … but I have seen the photos of him lying around the house. I recognised who he was." At that moment, Marianne slid the bathroom door open and came into the room, stark naked. "Oh shit!" she exclaimed, "what are you doing here, Aleesha?" "I had some good news to tell you, mum … but as always, I'd say your news has topped me again. I've just been talking to your toy boy here." Fancy me, a 40-year-old being referred to as a toy boy. I didn't know if I should take that as a compliment. "I'm sorry dear, I certainly didn't want you to find out like this." Marianne reached the side of the bed and suddenly noticed that my body was completely uncovered. She darted between her daughter and the bed and reefed the sheet up to my waist, lecturing me in the process, "You should have covered up as soon as she found you in here." "She appeared to like it, couldn't take her eyes off the motivator of mummy's orgasms." "Don't be so disgusting," Marianne admonished me before turning back to her daughter. "I was going to tell you, honey, when the time was right." "But why mum, don't you love daddy anymore?" "I do, honey … well, I did, I'm not so sure now. You see, our love life has been pretty barren these last few years. I am sure he's getting it some place else. It's long and involved, Aleesha … but simply put, I have never had any sexual satisfaction from your father." "It must have taken you a long time to find that out." "I have always been prepared to put up with it … grin and bare it, as they say. But I met young Malcolm here and he has brought me intense sexual pleasure for the first time in my life." "Where did you meet him, mum?" I couldn't help myself, I laughed out loud ahead of this revelation to her daughter. "Shut up, you!" she said to me with a wave of her hand, then turned back to her daughter, "He picked me up in the supermarket." She paused for maximum effect, then added, "Between feminine hygiene and condoms." Then she too was laughing with me. "Oh mum, you are so disgusting." "Yes, but happy now," responded her mother. "So tell me honey, what was your good news?" Aleesha ignored my presence in her mother's bed now that my erection was covered … she went on to tell her mum about a new job she had just got. As the discussion went on, Marianne steered her daughter toward the door, taking her out into the kitchen on the pretext of preparing some lunch. After a few minutes, Marianne reappeared in the bedroom and asked if I would mind if we didn't have our second fuck that day. She said that she didn't see her daughter very often and she didn't want to brush her away just for a second bout of sex, no matter how appealing the prospect of that was to her. I dressed and came out of the bedroom and lunched with both of them, managing to overcome some of the initial hostility that Aleesha had shown to me. But all of the time that I watched the mother and daughter talking, my mind was whirling about the prospect of yet another conquest … another dagger to plunge into Jeremy's back when the time came. How good would it be that on the day that Marianne and Nicole would each separately reveal to Jeremy their affairs with the same man, that his little sister Aleesha would come up with the same story and same name to haunt the egotistical prick. A new challenge was emerging … and pulling this one off would delay the revelation of the other two to Jeremy for many more weeks. I figured that there was still some room on my weekly calendar. I had Tuesday open for Aleesha, but achieving this latest goal might be the most difficult yet. As the three of us finished lunch and I prepared to leave, a sudden window of opportunity flashed before my eyes. Aleesha told both her mum and I that, in addition to the new job – or even because of the increased take-home pay – she intended to buy an apartment. I pricked up my ears, now this sweet young 25-year-old was crossing my path. My position as head of home borrowing at one of the leading financial institutions would make me indispensable to her. Marianne asked the relevant question before I even had a chance, "All very commendable to purchase property, honey, but where are you intending to get the money?" "Now come on mum, don't put a dampener on this. Sure, I don't have a big deposit yet, but now with the new job, I'll bet I can handle the repayments." "It just so happens," I interrupted, "that I may be able to help, ladies. Sitting right here in front of you, is the manager of the Home Loans division at Greater Western Bank." Have you ever seen the jaws of two women drop at the same time, virtually in unison? "Get out of here," said Marianne, "you're kidding us!" "No, that is right, I guess I never had a chance to tell you. We've been a bit busy getting to know each other," I told the older woman. To my surprise, Aleesha sidled over to me and seductively slipped onto my lap, putting an arm around my neck quite affectionately. Up that close, she smelled really good. "What would I need to do to get a loan from you, Uncle Malcolm?" I appreciated her addressing the lover of her mother as uncle … and she was doing all my groundwork for me. I looked nervously across at her mother, who fortunately was smiling, seeing it as the gag that Aleesha probably intended it to be. But I hadn't needed the young twenty-something to sit provocatively on my lap, almost squashing my still erect hard-on … my mind was already whirling with the possibilities. "I might need to give you a few conditions to meet." I guess that neither woman realised how serious that last comment was. They both gave slight smiles, but there was no laughter from either of them. Marianne was possibly concerned that her new-found adulterous sexual adventure with the younger man could now be threatened by the financial needs of her daughter. Aleesha was already, I suspect, considering just what she was going to have to do to pull off this deal. I arranged to meet Aleesha on the following Tuesday (already choosing the night that was most appropriate) at the apartment that she wanted to buy. I told her that I would need to value the property and that she should bring sufficient documentation about her savings and her new salary details so that I could assess her ability to pay. Marianne quickly cut in, offering to come along too, but her daughter thoughtfully repelled her mother's suggestion before I had to. Chapter Five Aleesha called me at the office on Tuesday afternoon to confirm a time for our meeting that night at the apartment that she was anxious to purchase. She told me that the realtor had entrusted her with the key rather than having to work overtime and come out at night. We agreed on 7pm for our meeting. She was already there when I knocked on the door just a minute after seven. She swung the door open and stood back for me to enter. The 25-year-old looked great - even sensational - was she dressed up like this just to talk over her mortgage possibilities, or was this how she dressed at work every day? "Wow!" I exclaimed, my eyes roaming over her near perfect youthful body from top to toe. She wore a slinky black dress that was shortish to about mid thigh and revealed a fair amount of cleavage up front. "What … what's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong, Aleesha, I just wasn't expecting a fashion model to open the door." She touched her dress as if to say 'What, these old rags?' but I just couldn't buy it. She had to have dressed for the occasion and that was a good sign. "I'm learning to dress a lot better now that I have the new job," she attempted as an explanation. "What about you?" she threw back, trying to turn the attention back on me. I was still in my customary business clothes, crisp white shirt, tie and three-piece Italian-made suit. "You're at least wearing a bit more than when we first met." That was good, it implied that she was replaying in her mind a vision of me lying in her mother's bed with an impressive erection. I followed her inside and tried to look interested in the empty apartment, despite stealing a peep at every opportunity at her magnificent arse and the good legs in the tight black number. That was when I was standing behind her. When we were facing each other, it was difficult for me to lock eyes with her … mine kept drifting down to her magnificent twin mounds and the cleavage between them. After we had checked out every room, we settled on the bathroom to have our meeting. Since there wasn't one item of furniture in the apartment, we used the bathroom vanity to lay out her paperwork. Aleesha sat on the toilet seat, the hem of her dress hiked up to mid thigh, and I stood alongside, going over her papers, reviewing the state of her finances. I was soon able to tell her that she didn't stack up well, particularly with only about half of what we usually required for a deposit. Her face turned forlorn and, for a moment, I feared that she was going to cry … but she managed to hold it together. "There might be a way," I suggested after allowing the negative aspects to roll around in her head for long enough. "Really, what's that?" "Well, fortunately it's not just a computer's arbitrary decision. In my capacity as manager of the home mortgage division, I am given some leeway solely in granting approval for an occasional special case, whereby the applicant just doesn't measure up to all the criteria." Her face brightened immediately, "Would you do that for me?" She tilted her head to one side in a 'what have I got to do' type gesture. She was smart enough to be playing the game. "Well, I could consider approving it for you, but I'm taking a huge risk. Because if anything went wrong and you were to default on your loan, I'd be in deep shit for going it alone and approving it against the advice of our computer modelling." Her face seemed to indicate that she knew where this was heading, although verbally she was still playing naïve, "So what does all that mean? Are you saying you would approve it … or just that it's possible?" I was guessing that she didn't want to come onto me – her mother's lover. No, she wanted me to be the one to suggest what she would have to do for me to approve the loan. I turned to face her squarely, my eyes less than a metre in front of hers. She was looking at me with keen anticipation, I wondered what reaction I was going to get. "It's such a huge risk for me … for my career … that I would want to draw some tangible benefit from you for sticking my head on the block." "Do you mean what I think you mean?" she asked and I nodded an affirmative without words. "What about my mum then? What happens to her? Would you break it off with her?" "I don't think that's necessary?" She looked puzzled, "Are we talking about the same thing? I thought that you meant that you wanted me to put out for you in return for approving the loan?" "You got it right," I confirmed. "So how many times would I need to do this with you?" "Every week … Tuesday nights, starting in the next few minutes." "What? Tonight? You want to do it tonight? Where … here?" "Sure, why not? We might have to do it standing up since you don't have any furniture in your apartment yet?" She picked up on my emphasis on your apartment and realised that I was intending to approve her loan conditionally. We were about to agree to terms and I could feel my cock already beginning to stiffen. She jumped up off the toilet seat and threw her arms around my neck, hugging me and flattening her body against mine. But then she pulled her head back and looked at me up close, "So as I said, what about my mum, what happens to her?" "No change, Aleesha, I will still visit her every Thursday as if nothing had happened. It would be better if neither of us said anything at all about us to her." "Oh my God, so you would have us both, every week, mother and daughter … I can't believe it." I thought to myself how much more unbelievable it would seem to her if I added, 'and your sister too, she gets me on Saturdays.' It was obvious to me that she had come here to this meeting, resigned to having to give me something to get what she wanted. So it was perfectly natural for me to take advantage of the closeness of our bodies and bring my face forward and kiss her at that very moment. Our bodies were still pressed together and I could feel my erection building … her body was pressed tightly enough to mine that she would feel it any moment, if not already. There it was, I felt her push her tummy toward me, obviously having felt the bulge of me against her clothing. Our kiss was passionate with plenty of tongue from the outset. Despite her age, we both knew what I expected to happen and she was going to be compliant and a willing participant. Both of my hands dropped to her arse, moulding the cheeks through her tight black dress and pulling her tightly against me, although she couldn't get her body much closer without my cock burning a hole through our clothes. We were both breathing heavily by the time that I pulled my lips off her and my mouth moved to attack her neck, kissing and sucking little love bites around the line of her collar. She was whimpering her emotion now, but her hands seemed to not know what to do as they aimlessly wandered up and down my sides, my arms, occasionally wrapping around my back. I brought one hand up off her arse and undid the catch on her dress at the back of her neck. I grasped the zipper and hauled it down, parting the back of the dress to her waist. My hand and my eyes roamed over her smooth tanned back, confirming that she was bra-less. I now had more skin exposed below her neck and my mouth ravaged all of it, turning the young woman on. When my kissing needed to venture lower, I eased my body back away from her and pulled the dress from off her shoulders, sliding the sleeves down her arms, a move that brought her arms down in front between us. At last, her hands found something to do, immediately claiming the bulge in my trousers as I let the remains of her dress slide to the floor. Aleesha wasn't content to just fondle the bulge of my cock through my clothes. Her fingers immediately went to work on unbuckling my belt, lowering my fly zip and discarding my trousers. I had no particular preference in underwear, today was a briefs day and she removed them in much the same cavalier way. Her arousal had brought this young woman to the point of being on a mission to copulate quickly. I liked the lust that I saw in her eyes. She looked back up at me approvingly after she had studied my hard-on in the harsh light of the bathroom, "Just as I remembered it," she told me. "You know, I might have hated you that first day because of discovering how you and my mum were cheating on my dad, but I couldn't help admire this," she added as her hands stroked my smooth shaft. "I did notice you staring at it a bit, I'm glad my gear met with your approval," I said, soaking up her compliment. "Oh it certainly did, mum and I talked about it after you'd gone." "Really? Why would you do that?" I was keen to know more. "Not as many guys seem to get circumcised these days. I haven't had one before and I have to admit that I am keen to feel if there's a difference." "Your mum told me that she hadn't experienced one before either, although she has apparently had very limited exposure to guys." "Yes, isn't that a quaint thing … for a woman to be in her fifties and to have only had two men." "Three now," I corrected. She laughed, "Yes, three now, you're right. My God, I'm over three already … does that make me a slut?" "No, not at all," I reassured her, but hesitated, "Although I suppose it depends on how many over three." Her heavy breathing had eased while we talked, I would have to arouse her to a peak all over again, but it would be fun doing it. I was enjoying the youthful carefree nature about sex of today's 20-somethings. This one reminded me of her sister, Nicole, my regular Saturday date. "When I say over three, I guess I'm already assuming that we're about to fuck … you will be my fourth." Aleesha had not given up on stroking my cock and balls with both hands and it felt damn good. In fact, it was becoming too good. I would need to get them out of her eager hands in a hurry or this seduction could end up a disaster. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from me. "Hey, don't stop me, I was really getting into that." "So was I, too much into it, I'm gonna need to calm down while I raise your temperature." She stood before me now, tanned and naked except for a tiny pair of pastel blue silk panties. Her breasts looked good, near perfect to my gaze and with the firmness and up-thrust of youth. My head dipped and my mouth devoured one nipple, working her body into a frenzy before switching to the other. Her breathing was coming in pants again. Her lower torso was thrusting outward, trying to meet my horizontally firm cock that I held just out of her body's reach.