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Mrs. G

By: SanVital



I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday. From the first contractions, the anxious rush to the hospital and the many exhausting hours until he was finally born. My son, twenty three years ago. Every time I look at him I feel a sense of pride. He turned out great. Handsome and smart, with a genuine zest for life. Since the day he was born I lived my life through his eyes. When he was sad, I was sad. When he was excited, I was excited. When he was heaeenrtbroken, I was heartbroken. He was always in control of my emotions. It's the one thing most women don't understand unless they have children of their own. When they take a beating, you get the bruises! Ever since he left for college I felt empty and alone. 

It literally took years before I came to grips with my 'Empty Nest Syndrome'. I found the best way to deal with it was to spend more time working at the hair salon and less time looking at the phone contemplating whether I should call him again. But there was no need to call him now. School is out and my Jamie was coming home for the summer! I couldn't wait! I stood by the door for almost an hour until he arrived. My husband Tom was also excited, although he shows his excitement by sitting on the lazy boy with a newspaper in front of his face. When I see his car pull up the driveway I ran out of the house to greet him. I was so excited to see him that I didn't even notice the other person sitting on the passenger side. He got out of the car and I ran to him and gave him a big hug and kiss. I missed him so much. He returned the hug and introduced me to his friend.

"Mom, this is Tony," Jamie said.

"Hi! Mrs. Gardner, nice to meet you," Tony said, and stuck out his hand.

"Hi, Tony, nice to meet you and please call me Diane," I shook his hand all the while giving Jamie a look that simply said, "explain."

"Tony's parents aren't going to be home for another week. Their flight was rescheduled and they won't be back until next Saturday. I told him he could stay with us until they come back. It was a last minute thing. I hope it's ok?" Jamie asked. 

"Of course it is. We got plenty of room Tony. Go grab your bags and come inside, I'll make you guys something to eat."

I honestly didn't care. I was just happy my little boy was back and the house seemed whole again. Jamie made the introductions to his father while I went in the kitchen to make some dinner. I could hear them all talking and laughing and I couldn't help but feel slightly jealous not being in there with them. But I immediately shrugged it off. I'd have lots of time to spend with Jamie, we had the whole summer. We had dinner together and Jamie and Tony shared some college stories that made us all laugh and I shared some stories about Jamie when he was a kid that made him blush with embarrassment. It was the perfect evening! There never seemed to be a break it the conversation. It flowed free and easy. 

While my son was telling a story about one of his professors, I couldn't help but notice how much he'd grown. His chestnut hair was a little bit longer and a little bit lighter then I last remembered. It was still shaggy and almost covered his eyes depending on his expression, but under that shag was every bit my son. His facial features resembled my husbands and his skin had a glow that only youth can produce. Tony had that same glow. He had dark blonde hair that was styled as if he just got out of bed. He had a young chiseled face with beautiful blue eyes and a perfect white smile. He looked like a surfer with the same free spirit demeanor. He was cute. The girls must be falling all over him. 

When dinner was over Tom and I went to bed while the boys stayed up watching TV. I wasn't tired and would have rather watched TV with the boys, but a good mother knows when to give his kid some space. I wasn't tired, so I just sat in bed reading. I could hear the boys laughing it up about something on the TV. I really wish I could be there with them. I wonder what they were laughing about? It didn't matter, their laughter brought life back into an otherwise quiet house. I looked over at Tom and he was fast asleep. As he gets older he goes to bed earlier. But I guess that's normal right? My mother actually warned me about this when we started dating. Her exact words were "Diane, he is way too old for you. Think about the future. He's on his second wind and you just barely took a breath!" Of course, I cursed her and followed my heart. But she was right and I was blind. Tom is 15 years older than me. I'm 45, so that would make Tom ...in bed by nine! 

We met while I was in college, working part time as a bank teller. He was the Branch Manager. He helped me out a lot with my student loans and giving me extra shifts when I needed it. Everybody at the bank loved him. He talked to everyone as an equal and genuinely cared about the personal life of his staff. He would give me advice on love, life and how to reach my goals. Having been married and divorced himself, he seemed a lot wiser than most guys my age and he became someone I could trust. 

One day at work I burst into tears having just broken up with my boyfriend. He called me into his office and let me vent and cry and let me stay there for the rest of my shift. He said the right things and made me regain my perspective on life. About a month later, we were having sex on his desk. Initially, I was attracted to his mind and the fact that he looked really good in a suit, but he wasn't much of anything else. I know that's bad for me to say, but it's true. He wasn't funny, wasn't adventurous, wasn't athletic and the sex was pretty lame, but I still stayed with him in the hopes that things would eventually change. I became pregnant a year later and had to drop out of school. After Jamie was born I got a job working at a hair salon and learned the trade. 

Now I have my own salon and I couldn't be happier. Tom ended up becoming a district manager and retired a year ago. When he retired, I thought that we would be doing more things together and creating more excitement in our lives, but I was wrong. It seemed that when he retired from work, he retired from life! Our sex life turned from being lame to being down right pathetic. We would have sex maybe once a month if I'm lucky and it was all choreographed to end within 8 minutes. I would give him oral for the first five minutes until he became hard (once again, if I'm lucky) and then I would ride him for the next three minutes. Then we would simply roll over and go to sleep. The only difference between now and then, was that back then he used to like be on top once in awhile. Sad, I know. I knew something was missing in my life when I would hear stories from the girls in the salon. If you think men liked to talk about dirty details, take it from me, women are a hundred times worse! 

Most of my clients are regulars and I pretty much know everything about their lives including their 'Sexcapades'. What they do in real life I have only fantasized about. They would talk about role playing, dressing up, different positions, oral sex days and affairs with coworkers or friends. I haven't done any of these things, but I always enjoyed hearing more of their tales. In fact, when I'm fantasizing I'm usually thinking about one of their adventures. Tom was never adventurous in bed. He didn't like performing orally, he only liked one position and the sooner it was over for him, the better. To him, sex was like a bad habit that he was slowly trying to wean himself off completely. And it was working. 

The next morning I woke up early, took a shower, got dressed and started making breakfast. I wasn't normally like this, but we had a guest in the house and I thought it would be more appropriate than wearing my usual bathrobe, slippers and bed head. Of course, the boys never woke up until noon. So much for breakfast. They must have had a late night. Typical youth, the night was always more exciting than the day. Jamie came into the kitchen first, gave me a kiss on the cheek and they both took seats at the table.

"Morning, Mom! What's for breakfast?" Jamie asked.

"Don't you mean lunch?" I replied.

"Ha ha ha," Jamie smirked.

"Hey, Mrs. Gardner! Remember me?" Tony asked. 

"Good Morning, Tony and how could I forget? And it's Diane by the way. Stop calling me Mrs. Gardner. I'm not one of your professors," I snickered.

"Sorry Mrs. Gardner," Tony replied, and they both giggled like 4 year olds.

They both sat at the table as I piled food on their plates. The only way you could tell they just woke up was from their messed up hair, but then again, they could have just styled it like that. They both looked great and full of energy; I guess sleeping until noon has its benefits.

"So what do you two have planned for today?" I asked.

"We're gonna head over to the courts and shoot some hoops and then I'm gonna take Tony around and show him the neighbourhood," Jamie replied.

"Sounds like fun! I'm going to work. I'll see you both when I get back. Can I expect you guys to be here for dinner?" I asked the both of them.

"Yeah, we'll be back for dinner but we'll be going out later tonight," Jamie said.

"Where you guys going later?" 

"Don't know yet," Jaime responded.

"You don't know?" I said. I looked at Tony and he avoided my glare. I knew something was up but I wasn't going to push it. They were adults after all.

"Something always comes up mom. You know how it is," Jamie explained, while looking in his plate.

Actually, I didn't know 'how it was' but I didn't have time to play detective.

"Alright you two have fun. Do you guys need any money?" I asked thoughtfully.

"No mom, we're fine," Jamie said half embarrassed.

I kissed Jamie on the top of his head and playfully rubbed Tony's hair. Then I left the kitchen but not before I heard Tony say "Thanks for the food Mrs. Diane!" and they both giggled like kids. On the way out I stopped at the closet, pulled out Jamie's coat and stuffed twenty bucks inside. 

At the salon it was business as usual. The salon is relatively small, but it makes for a more intimate setting. There are three high chairs with facing mirrors, a wash station and a hair drying station on the opposite side. I had appointments all day and usually the time just flies by, but today took forever. All day I was staring at the clock waiting to go home and have dinner with my kid before he went out with his friends. So as soon as my last appointment left at 6pm, I headed for the car and headed for home. I just got on the freeway when traffic came to a complete stop. Just my fucking luck! I wasn't going anywhere. 

After twenty minutes of no movement I turned the car off and just sat there. There must have been an accident and all I was thinking was 'Someone better be dead!" Of course, I didn't mean it. I was just frustrated. I called home and told my husband that I'm not going to make it for dinner and to order a pizza for the boys. Three hours later, I arrived home. They were all on the couch watching the baseball game.

"Hey guys! Hope you saved some pizza for me?" I asked.

"We sure did Mrs. G!" answered Tony.

I sat down on the couch in between Tony and Jamie. It was a tight fit but I wanted to be close to my boy. I gave Jamie a quick kiss on the cheek while Tony grabbed a couple of slices from the table and put them on a plate for me. I smiled a thank you.

"So it's Mrs. G now? What's wrong with calling me Diane?" I asked.

"There's nothing wrong with that. Diane's a nice name. But you know...I figured Mrs. G was more appropriate," said Tony.

"Hmmm...more appropriate huh? Just shut up and eat your pizza!" I playfully snapped back.

Tony and Jamie both laughed with their mouths stuffed with pizza. Tony was obviously raised right. He had good manners and always showed respect, even if it came in the form of 'Mrs. G.' I grabbed Jamie's arm and pulled him closer to me. We sat like that for the next hour watching baseball, the game that I never understood and hated to watch. Tony and Jamie both had to explain certain rules as the game dragged on, but they didn't mind. It was then that I realized something was missing.

"Jamie, Where's your father?" I asked.

"Oh, he went to bed a while ago," Jaime replied.

I didn't remember him leaving. Actually, I didn't remember him even being here. How bad is that? But that's usually what happens when Jamie comes home. He always gets my full attention. 

"Sorry mom, but we have to go," Jamie said.

"What? Already? I just got here," I whined.

"You've been here an hour mom." 

"Since when did you learn how to tell time?" I shot back.

Tony managed a chuckle but Jamie just shook his head as if to say "That was lame"

"If you gotta go, then go. I just miss you is all," I said.

"You could always come with us mom?" Jamie asked.

"Yeah Mrs. G, it'll be fun!" Tony said.

"You really want your old mom, hanging with you and the boys. I don't want to cramp your style," I said, trying to sound hip.

"We're not going to a party, and you're not gonna cramp...whatever it is you said. We're just heading over to O'Tooles for a couple of drinks," Jamie said.

O'Tooles was like a community bar not too far away. It was popular hangout for kids coming home in the summer and a popular spot for men to get away from their wives during the school year. It had more of a pub feel than a club atmosphere. It was a nice place. I was always close to my son, but I always knew when to stay away, and this was definitely one of those times. Although the thought of spending time with my boy or spending the night in bed with the grim reaper made it an easy decision.

"Gimmie five minutes to get ready!" I said.

The bar was packed. It was a great ratio of girls to guys, all in their twenties and it seemed as if Jamie and Tony knew everyone there. Either Jamie or Tony took the liberty to introduce me if they had a conversation with someone that lasted more than two minutes. Everyone was polite and really nice, but I'm sure most of them were wondering who the old lady was. I was beginning to think that this was a bad idea. Call me naive, but I was expecting a relative quiet bar with a secluded table where I would be able to sit and talk with Jamie. It was the complete opposite. It took us at least a half hour to reach the bar and there were no seats available, so we just stood uncomfortably. Well, at least I was uncomfortable. 

They had a live band and the music was loud and the dance floor was packed. The women, or I guess I should say girls all looked amazing. They had fresh faces that required little makeup and you knew that they would look hot no matter what they wore. They were all so young, fit, full of energy, full of life. I felt old. Real fucking old! Even though I like to think I look better than most people my age, there clearly wasn't any of them on hand to hide behind. I really wish I choose something different to wear. I ended up grabbing a pair of comfortable jeans and a snug fitting blouse with my black everyday boots. Like I said, this wasn't what I had in mind. I felt as if I was sticking out like a pimple on prom night. 

Maybe I'm just overreacting. I'm 5'6, have shoulder length light brown hair, curvy with more than a handful upstairs. I would say I have a medium build when surrounded by the average person, but in here, I simply felt fat. I shouldn't be here but seeing Jamie interact with others was a wonderful sight. They way he spoke, the way he made others laugh, the way everyone wanted to be around him. He was like a conductor and these people were his orchestra. The only thing I didn't like were all the floozies touching him, kissing him on the cheek and getting too close to take pictures with him. It made me sick as it would any mother. I hope he uses condoms. Does he know enough about protection? I really shouldn't be here. I was just about to tell Jamie that I was going to leave when Tony came by with a couple of mixed drinks. 

"Here Diane, have a drink with me," Tony said.

"Thanks Tony. And thanks for finally calling me Diane," I said as we clinked glasses.

"Are you having a good time?" Tony said.

"Let just say, that I'm enjoying watching you guys work the room."

"Jamie's the one that knows how to work the room, I'm the one that's usually on the sideline. I'm actually not very good at parties, so hanging with Jamie makes it easier."

"Really, I would never have guessed," I said surprised.

"No one ever does. He's like Batman and I'm more like Robin, but it works for us!"

Tony was very sweet, quite charming actually. I didn't know how tall he was until now, when I noticed I only came up to his shoulders. He had the cutest smile with dimples and that messy blonde hair made him adorable. I wonder why I didn't notice it before? Why am I noticing it now? 

"Listen Tony, I'm going to be leaving now and let you guys have your fun. Do me a favor and tell Jamie that I left. I'll take a cab home and leave the car for you guys. Just make sure he doesn't drink too much, ok?" I lectured.

"Sure ok. You wanna dance?" Tony replied.

"What? Didn't you hear what I said?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure I'll tell him. I just thought you might like to dance before you leave."

"Tony, I haven't danced in ages, I'm too old, and I'll look like a fool," I confessed.

"If it makes you feel better I don't know how to dance either," Tony admitted.

Tony didn't say anything after that. He just looked down at me with those soft sad eyes. A part of me didn't want to let him down, another part of me couldn't resist.

"Alright fine, let's go make fools of ourselves, but don't say I didn't warn you!" I said.

We both downed our drinks and he grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor. After weaving through the crowded gauntlet of gyrating hips, elbows and arms we found our way to the center of the dance floor. We started off slow trying to catch the rhythm of the music and awkwardly began move our bodies to something that we thought resembled dancing. 

We were both laughing hysterically at our lack of coordination. We were both terrible. I could sense other people around us laughing. Even the singer of the band was suppressing his laughter throughout the song. It made it hard to concentrate on dancing, but we managed by focusing only on each other. We were still a dancing train wreck, but we were able to let loose a little. I couldn't believe how much fun I was having. Is this what I missed when I was young? Song after song we stayed on the dance floor. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if Jamie was all right just like I used to when I took him to the playground and I sat on the bench. Tony noticed this and simply said "He'll be alright, he's Batman remember?" I slapped him playfully on the arm and we continued to dance in random fits. I felt bad for taking up all his time on the dance floor. Surely he must want to hang out with his friends? Or at least someone his own age? 

"Tony it's ok if you want to hang out with your friends, you don't have to keep me company all night. I don't want to ruin your fun," I said.

"You're not ruining anything, I'm having a blast! Besides, no one ever wants to dance with me." 

"I can't say I blame them. You really suck at this!" 

Tony playfully shoved me and we continued dancing like fools. We must have danced through ten songs before the band announced that it was almost last call and that they were going to take it down a notch. Instantly, they began to play a slow song. Everyone seemed to pair up with someone else and the dance floor was packed tight again. Tony and I just stared at each other for a minute until he stretched out his hand. I took his hand and accepted the dance. I put my arms around his neck and he put his hands on my hips and we rocked slowly back and forth. We were much better at this then fast dancing. 


Mrs. G Handles Us Both



Saturday mornings are pretty much the same for me and my friend Luke. We get up at around noon with pounding headaches for our hangover, get some lunch and go over to our friend Vick's house. We usually just sit around, watch tv, and talk about our lack of a sex life.

When we pulled up to the mansion that Vick lived in we noticed that his Corsica wasn't out front. We went to the door anyway, expecting to find an empty house. Vick's parents went to their beachouse every weekend, so our Saturday morning lounging was usually done alone. We knocked on the door just in case someone was home and to our surprise Vick's mom, Mrs. G answered the door. She was wearing just a bathrobe and I could see all she had on underneath was bra and panties. I had never thought of Mrs. G like that, but suddenly felt aroused.

"Is Vick home," I asked.

"No, he had to drive his father to the airport this morning. His father had an emergency meeting and has to leave town for the weekend. But Vick told me to just let you guys in."

We followed Mrs. G into the kitchen and I could tell by the look on Luke's face that he was just as impressed with Mrs. G's body as I was.

"Would you boys like me to fix you something to drink," Mrs. G asked when we stopped in the kitchen.

"Sure," Luke replied

"Well, You boys just go on into the living room and I'll have something for you in no time," she instructed in a voice that was turning me on more each time I heard it.

Luke and I went into the giant living room that was intended for Vick's exclusive use. It was furnished with two big couches and a leather love seat, that was the site of many of Vick's sexual escapades. Although Vick had lost his virginity nearly a year ago, Luke and I were still waiting for our first big score. After a couple of minutes Mrs. G walked into the living room with two beers. Even though the three of us (me, Luke , and Vick) were only 19, Mrs. G always let us drink. She had changed from her robe to a pair of tight shorts that showed off her great ass. She was wearing a black v-neck on top that showed ample amounts of her cleavage.

"So boys, what did you all have planned for today?" she said as she arched her back and adjusted herself. I felt a twitch in my shorts and cursed myself for wearing boxers and mesh shorts.

"Well just the usual, but since Vick's not here we'll probably head out in just a minute" I said hoping she would object.

"No, you boys stay as long as you like. Actually I have this movie that I rented for Mr. G and myself, but since he'll be out of town tonight...we should watch it." I didn't object.

With that she went into the other room and came back with a video. She went to the VCR shaking her ass, and making me hard as hell. I couldn't believe this. I had never in the 5 years I'd known Vick ever imagined his mom as a sexual being. But now, bending over in front of the VCR was enough for me to realize that she had no underwear on, I began to realize how damn hot she was.

She came back to the couch me and Luke were sitting in and plopped down right in between us. I held my breath as she made herself comfortable and almost gasped when I felt her left hand on my thigh and saw her right had go to Luke's.

We stayed in the same position for another 10 minutes until the screen started showing a man and a woman kissing passionately and then going further. At the sight of the couples kissing wildly and groping each other I began to feel my cock on the rise. Mrs. G soon noticed it too.

"Ooh" was all she could muster as she first just stared at my 8 inch cock barely being restrained by my mesh shorts. I was scared as hell, I could get in deep shit for this and I just knew she would jump up screaming any second. But she didn't

Instead she just ripped my shorts off and took my raging member into her mouth . She began licking and sucking my shaft in a relentless manner. It was like animal instincts had taken over as she began to lick my precum. I couldn't believe the blowjob I was getting, and from Vick's mom to boot. Then to my greater surprise I saw Luke behind her ripping off those slutty little shorts she was wearing and preparing to fuck her doggy style.

"Oh yeah, ummm, more, more," Mrs. G mumbled while she continued to devour my cock.

She began to move faster and faster and then rhythmically with the thrusts that Luke was applying to her pussy. I realized I was about to blow and began thrusting into her mouth, at the same time I felt the increase of Luke's thrust and knew he too was about to cum. We continued the chain of sex for a little longer until in unison Luke and I let out loud cries and blew our loads. Mine into the back of her throat, and Luke's into her pussy.

"Holy shit." Was all I could manage as I gave Luke an unforgettable look of joy.

But our celebration was interrupted by our little slut.

"Boys were not done yet. I didn't even get off, so this time no holding back." Nothing this woman was saying now surprised me. All of us quickly stripped off our remaining clothes and set to work.

Mrs. G guided me in between her legs and to her pink, clean shaven pussy, and I began whaling on her. The she grabbed Luke's cock and put it between her tits and told him to fuck. It was my turn for animal lust and I hit her pussy with reckless abandon. I guess Luke was thinking the same thing because he was ramming her tit flesh with all his 7 inch prick could muster.

After about ten minutes of this fucking where I was facing my best friend, I heard a low groan coming from Mrs. G. She increased her thrusts and finally topped off her moans with one loud yell that the neighbors probably heard. Nearly simultaneously I blew my wad into her woman hood and fell back gasping. Luke took a little longer but finally let it out all over her tits and face.

We all got up and dressed, smelling like sex and sticky from all the juices we'd passed around.

"Mrs. G," I said nervously," Do you think we could do this again sometime."

She nodded and proudly said" I got plenty more to teach you boys."



Mrs. Gallagher's Pool Pt. 01



When I answered the ad for the rental flat, I was very impressed by the place. The available unit was part of a duplex located behind the landlady's main house, in a nice older neighborhood not far from the city center, where my new job was based. Each unit was a spacious and nicely appointed one bedroom. Both units faced onto the pool and patio area, and had parking access from the alley in back. Nice gardens separated the pool from the main house, and all was bordered by hedgerows of tall shrubs giving seclusion from the neighboring homes. Only one window of a garage apartment next door could overlook a portion of the pool. Everything was well-kept and the rent was fair.

The landlady was Mrs. Gallagher, about fifty-ish and of medium height and build, a slightly graying brunette. She was businesslike but pleasant as she showed me around.

"Yes, you may take the unit as of Tuesday," she was saying, "it is ready except some minor painting to be finished on Monday. You may use the pool, of course, but please observe the rules and keep it tidy. My daughter lives in the main house with me, and her friend, Annie, rents the other flat. They use the pool a lot, so please be respectful and don't leave a mess. Oh, you'll meet the young man who lives there (she pointed to the window next door). He maintains the pool for me, in exchange for using it. He has a gate key and comes in as he likes."

Tuesday was a busy day, moving in and getting sorted out. Wednesday was hectic with work and I got in very late, soon ready for bed. Tiredness helped me sleep well in my new surroundings, but I awoke early. Maybe an early swim before work would be nice, I thought, and slipped into my trunks.

Stepping out onto the patio I was startled to find the aforementioned guy from next door (the window above the hedges), in the midst of cleaning the pool - stark naked!

"Morning, dude! Mrs. G told me someone had moved into that flat. My name's Matt, and I live up there." He jerked a thumb towards the garage apartment window. 

"And do you usually service the pool naked?" I asked, a little astonished. "There are women on the property, you know!"

"Oh, that!" he said, as though just now aware of his bare state, "Do it all the time. I never wear any trunks over here. No need to - its not allowed."

"Huh? What do you mean, not allowed? The girl in the other flat was having a swim when I was moving in, and..."

"Yup. The girls wear swimsuits. But no guy ever wears a suit out here. Its a rule. Didn't you see the pool rules sign?" (I actually hadn't bothered, figuring it was the usual stuff) "Mrs G. is pretty strict with all the house rules, you'll find. Kind of 'old school' from the days when men swam nude at the Y and boys' swim classes prohibited suits to protect the filters. The pool is ready now. You can join me for a swim, but ya gotta ditch the trunks."

I glanced around, realizing how secluded the pool was. Only Matt's window above, and Annie's and my kitchens had a view of the pool. And I really did want that swim.

So, I quickly shed the trunks and slipped into the water. Matt swam a lap, splashing noisily. "Hey, can we keep it quiet? Annie may be awake by now," I said, glancing nervously at her window.

"Don't sweat it, man! Annie sees me naked out here all the time. So does Renee, and even Mrs. G herself," Matt responded with a shrug.

"Well, I'm not really used to going naked around women. I mean, a lot of women would give you some trouble if they caught you bare-assed outdoors."

Matt assured me that wasn't going to be the case at this pool. Guys are expected to be naked when swimming or sunning, and the hedges are tall and thick for a reason - to keep curious noses from poking over them.

Just as I was getting a bit more relaxed about it, I heard a click and turned to see Annie's door open as she stepped out onto the patio in her red and yellow bikini. My heart pounded and jumped in my throat as I felt 'caught' in the buff. I glanced from her to Matt and back again. He didn't seem bothered at all. So this would be the moment of truth, and there was no escape. My trunks were at the other end of the pool, and out of reach of the water. I would have to let it play out however it did!

Matt vaulted onto the deck and greeted Annie with a cheery 'Good morning' and while totally naked and wet, he met her halfway. She handed him a tray of muffins and coffee cups, which he placed on the table.

Annie made a beckoning gesture and said, "Come join us for coffee, and introduce yourself," pointing to a chair. I was about to introduce more of myself than I was used to in mixed company, but there seemed to be no alternative. I took a deep breath and thought 'Well, here we go - bare ass naked!' and heaved myself out of the pool. At least the combination of nerves, wetness, and the morning air was keeping me from springing a boner as I met this girl for the first time, officially. She watched as I crossed the few paces to the table and quickly sat down. Crap! The table top was crystal clear - no refuge offered by that!

"It seems that our new friend is a little insecure without his pants!" she flashed a grin at Matt. "It's always fun helping a new guy make that adjustment at this pool!" Then, to me - "What's your name, sweet cheeks?"

"It's Will. And pleased to meet you. I do admit I am at a little disadvantage at the moment. I'm not used to being among nudists," I replied.

"Oh, well, we are not nudists, Will. As you can see, I am not nude. In fact, I never go nude out here. Nor does Renee, nor her Mom. We don't think it is proper for a lady to go nude in the presence of males," she asserted, holding her head a bit higher.

"Um, so then, it is rather a double-standard, isn't it? Matt tells me that he and I are almost required to go nude in the pool. Is that right?" I asked, feeling a bit puzzled.

"Actually, that isn't correct at all. You, Matt, and any other male guest you or we may invite, are absolutely, not 'almost', required to be naked anytime you use the pool or tanning area. You are responsible to make sure that any buddy you invite over understands the rules, and obeys them, just as Matt informed you about them. No male suits! Obey, or don't use the facilities - simple as that." Then she gave a sly grin. "See, Will, you WILL be seen, naked! But you won't see me."

"And you don't see anything improper about guys being naked around ladies, then?" There was a clear disparity going on here.

"Nothing whatsoever! It is actually very natural for males to be naked. The original Olympic games were performed by nude males, and Celtic warriors often went into battle naked. Males often skinny-dipped in farm ponds, at the Y, and in school swim practices. Sometimes they couldn't afford swimsuits or the culture didn't think they were needed. Renee's mom thinks it should continue that way, and we agree. Even the very nature of your male anatomy (she leaned forward, looking at my groin through the clear table) is obviously more comfortable to be unconfined when swimming or in other active pursuits. Your manly parts can move freely and adjust themselves to whatever position is most natural and comfortable for the state they are in. And you dry faster from water or sweat," she explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

"The 'state' they are in?" I asked, blushing at her frankness about masculine details.

"Don't be silly, Willy. Women are well aware that males get frequent changes in the condition of their genitals. You have many and sometimes persistent periods of arousal, for any or no reason. Swimsuits bind and constrict the natural movement. Without such an encumbrance, your phallus will expand to its fully erect state, and then return to its restive position unhindered. No silly fumbling needed to adjust your shorts. We have observed this happening often at this pool, and it is just the nature of a penis!" Annie was very nonchalant about openly discussing male anatomy with two very naked men.

"Annie, I am sure that women understand what we have in our drawers! But don't you see that guys can be embarrassed to show it off in mixed company? It puts us in an awkward position, to say the least!" I persuaded.

She giggled. "We know all about that. It can really be rather funny, too!"

"Let me get this straight. You know very well that men can get highly embarrassed to be totally naked and exposed among women. Yet you actually expect us to forfeit all privacy and cavort around in the buff, in a very unequal situation, at that!"

"Now, Will. Male embarrassment about the phallus is a construct of recent making. The basis is almost totally psychological, though it exhibits physical signs - blushing, nervousness, cowering to hide oneself. They are outward signs of mental discomfort over violating a taboo built into your mind by a mother who babied you, a sister who teased you, or schoolboys who mocked the size of your goods. And by the social norm of wearing clothes. You feel out of place to be naked even when permitted, or required - as you are now!" she said with firm conviction.

Matt then spoke up. "You will soon get over all that. I was nervous at first, but I wouldn't want it any other way now! I can't stand a swimsuit anymore."

Annie nodded. "Right. Matt has made the full psychological adjustment to the rules we use here. He understands the practicality and simple beauty of it! Any male can do so if he gives it a fair try. And it is the rule at this pool, so just embrace it and do it. The male..."

"Male! Why do you keep saying 'males' and never men or guys? Always males!" I interrupted.

"Well, it is a more generic term. It covers any age or status, and it neutralizes any ego or macho attitude that might attach to other terms. It keeps it on a better par with females." she offered.

"But you do say 'woman' and 'lady.' So isn't that being unequal?" I argued.

"Those terms don't usually have bragging associated with them. They just carry a social grace element, they just remind us to remain feminine and conduct ourselves in a civil and appropriate manner. Everyone, male or female, can benefit from that," she said, chidingly.

"Well, this is all very interesting and new to me, I must say! But we will have to discuss it more later. I must be off to work soon, if you'll excuse me, now?" I stood up to go, highly conscious that I was unable to avoid full-frontal exposure. My penis swayed in full view as I moved past her to go to my flat. The experience of sitting there naked, and the subject of the conversation had fluffed it a bit, and I was aware of a more pronounced swinging motion as I strode buck naked towards my door. I could sense her eyes studying my unclad bum.

"Oh, Will!" Matt called out, and I turned around, exposing my now half erect dick to their full view, the little helmet aimed right at Annie's unflinching gaze. "Don't forget your trunks, dude!"

"Put them away. We don't expect to see them again. Just a lot more of you!" Annie commented.

By the time I scooped up the trunks and crossed back to my door, I was sporting a full mast erection, wagging stiffly ahead of me. Both Annie and Matt were chuckling merrily as I went through the door.



Mrs. Gallagher's Pool Pt. 02



"Ah, the weekend at last!" I was thinking as I finally made a move to get out of bed. While the coffee brewed and I was turning my fried eggs onto a plate, I heard voices from the pool area. Still wearing only briefs, I looked out the window. Matt was just putting away the pool equipment, and laughing over some joke of Annie's. He was naked again, looking just as confident about it as the morning I first met him. I stepped out the door with plate and cup to join them on the patio.

"Really, Will? White briefs! Isn't it time to ditch those for a better style?" Matt ribbed me.

"Oh, I still like them. I usually wear red or blue, but white is still in the mix occasionally," I responded, "anyway not many people ever see them."

"So you wore them today, just for us! How nice!" Annie joined in. "You really didn't need to put them on at all, not to come out here."

"Well, I just got up a few minutes ago, so I'm still in nightwear mode."

"Nightwear? What's that?" asked Matt. "Do you wear those in bed, and you live alone? I never wear anything in bed - except the sheets!"

"I'm progressing, I suppose you could say. I gave up the PJ's since moving out of Mom's house. But I still wear undies to bed, just for security I guess. You know, any disturbance in the middle of the night."

"In case your Mommy pops in to check on you? Or to impress the cat burglar with your up-to-date fashion sense?" Matt was having fun with it. "Anyone coming into my place in the night has to take me the way I am. It's my space and I always sleep in the raw - always! Anyhow, we don't wear anything poolside around here, kapeesh? How 'bout losing the kid briefs and coming back all naked and proper!"

"I guess it will help me get used to it, the more often I experience it," I allowed. I went back to the kitchen, shucked off the briefs and tossed them at the laundry basket.

Walking back to the patio table, I saw Annie was watching my pecker oscillate from side to side as I approached the chair nearest her. I was keenly aware of my cock, still slightly tumescent from as yet unsatisfied morning arousal, that constant male companion. It was lolling heavily from thigh to thigh with each step, and seated, she had a good level to view it from. Just the awareness of her gaze upon it had it rapidly levitating to a semi-hard state. With each step, it made an arc and at the apex of its swing, it was pointing directly at her.

"Looks like someone is coming up to bat!" she said with a smirk, looking directly at it as I pulled back the chair to sit down.

"Maybe even hit a home run, considering the swing of it," a new voice commented merrily. I turned to see a gorgeous brunette in a black and white bikini. She had come through the gardens from the main house. This unexpected arrival of a new pair of eyes caused me to shield the unaccustomed nakedness of my aroused member with my hands. 

The lovely creature laughed gaily with a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh, jolly good, a shy boy. Hiding his boy-toy! It's so much fun to break in the novices," she said, joining us at the table. "Good morning Annie. Hi Matt. Will, just stand there a bit longer, and maybe it will grow a bit longer. Nothing sprouts like morning wood!"

"Wow! You girls aren't shy about dicks, are you?" I said with astonishment at her brazen comments.

She laughed heartily. "Why should we be embarrassed about dicks? We don't have them. Those things are you guys' problem! And you can't imagine how much we lo-o-ove to enjoy your little problem!"

My jaw dropped, and I just stood there amazed. And Willy junior was twitching to an even higher angle, now staring up at her.

"I just love it when a naked guy obeys a simple request! And he doesn't even know me yet! By the way, I am Renee, and Mom owns the place. I live in the house. You'll see me around - a lot."

"You can have a seat and finish your breakfast, Will. And get used to Renee seeing your prick, because she will - a lot!" Annie giggled, as I sat down, somewhat red-faced now. "Look, Renee! His cheeks are now as rosy as his prick!"

"So nice when a guy can master color co-ordination in his finest fashions!" Renee quipped.

Just as I was grappling with the mental adjustment to accept that two lovely young women would be freely ogling my personal assets all summer, another surprise jolted me. Two more women came onto the deck. Mrs. Gallagher and another lady of about her age, whom I did not know. Here I sat, a bare ass naked 23 year old guy with a hard prick that wouldn't wilt, in the presence of tow 21 year old lovelies and two fiftyish women. Matt had gone into Annie's kitchen to refill his coffee, so I was the only penis-owner present. It was presenting itself grandly, at full attention, its corona flaring with each beat of my heart. The clear table top was offering no refuge at all. But then it got worse.

"It is customary for a gentleman to stand when greeting ladies," Annie said, patting my arm. Sheepishly, I arose with a red face and bobbing erection. What else could I do, when put on the spot like that?

"Your new tenant is providing us with some gallant entertainment, Mom. Isn't he a darling?"

"I can see that, indeed. You girls are having a good time helping him feel at home, I am sure. And he is obviously enjoying it, himself." She looked up and down my nakedness, a little suppressed grin on the corner of her mouth. "Will, this is my neighbor, Mrs. Marlowe. She owns the house next door. Matt rents the garage apartment from her," she introduced us. "Will is my new tenant in flat A. He seems to be such a pleasant and vibrant young man."

"He does have a pleasing air about him, and he's certainly in a vibrant mood at the moment. But he does appear to be in an unsettled state!" Mrs. Marlowe replied. "Lovely to meet you, young man!"

"Well. as you know, a virile youth does go through a difficult adjustment, psychologically, when placed in such a position. He is feeling so many conflicting stimuli and it can be perplexing to him," Mrs. Gallagher surmised.

Perplexing indeed! I am naked as a newborn, and not a stitch within reach. Four women are openly examining my masculine attributes and discussing me very frankly, along with my psychological and very obvious physical reaction! My face was hot with blushing, and my penis was staring straight up at them, twitching vigorously in tune with my racing pulse. I was giving a very blatant show, and each of them was enjoying it, even relishing the confused web of emotions they could see battling within me! A wild mix of panic, shame, arousal, elation, and pride tumbled across my mind. It seemed to me that they could see each and every one of those as separate entities, and as a combined whole; yet, to me it was a moment of helpless confusion in which I strove to maintain some type of composure. I could only stand there, feeling lost, naked and stupid. 

Then it hit me like a bolt of light cutting right through the fog - every one of these women believed in the marrow of their bones that they were something superior to the mere male that stood naked and confused under their appraisal. And I was standing there NAKED, simply because these women had decided it should be this way - and in doing so, I had conceded to their decision and validated it.

They smiled as one when they saw that this reality had dawned on me. Shame descended on me like a bucket of cold water, washing over me from head to toes! Shocking, yet fresh somehow, as it passed. Like that first plunge into a cold pool, bracing at first, until you adapt. They saw it. They felt it. They triumphed in it. Then looked at each other. I could see them drawing together in unity, without moving an inch. Another male had begun the transition. But this was only to be the first phase!



Mrs. Gallagher's Pool Pt. 03



There I stood, buck naked, no clothing in reach. The ladies were casually assessing my exposed maleness. Sure, I could have bolted to my flat and covered myself - and abandon my last shred of pride. To stand there and endure it was the only avenue to recovering any sense of respect, from any of them or myself. Buck up and be a man. An embarrassed naked man, but at least a man! Grin and 'bare' it, as it were!

I was shivering, but not from cold. It was nearly 80 degrees by now in the summer sun. This was purely from nervous tension, and the gooseflesh must have been telling! Just as I thought it couldn't get any more intense, it did. Big time!

The chatter of female voices could be heard in the garden. Suddenly twelve (count 'em - twelve!) vivacious co-eds came through, and now sixteen pairs of female eyes were perusing the finer details of my totally unclad masculinity!

No one seemed surprised, other than me. They almost seemed as if they were expecting to find a naked man awaiting their arrival. The situation was at the same instant as terrifying and arousing as possible. My trembling legs could not have fled if I told them to, but I would have stumbled over my own feet. By now, I was completely surrounded by lovely young ladies who were eagerly eyeing me from all angles and had no intention of allowing me to evade their analysis! Trapped naked in a bevy of beauties, only yards from my own open doorway, yet no chance of refuge.

Annie introduced me to each one, and it became obvious they all knew about me already. This was to be a sorority party, and I was to be the featured attraction, the entertainment of the day.

"Lovely Will, and his perky willy, will be spending the day with us, ladies! And he will be remaining naked for our pleasure, of course. As if we were giving him a choice, hey? So by all means, please enjoy all that he has to show us. Remember that he is very new to all of this, so we must help him adjust. Okay, girls?"

A round of applause and cheers confirmed their approval.

No one asked me if I was interested in being their naked scenery. I had simply been volunteered, conscripted, and confirmed by the choice of fourteen young ladies and two women, who bore a decided air of authority. I saw no option but to face my predicament as valiantly as I could muster.

Matt had returned from the kitchen, and strode out to join us, his uncut schlong wagging carelessly before him. At least I have another guy for macho support, I thought. But Matt was to prove totally complicit in the plans of the girls. My plans to maintain dignity and composure were about to be dissolved again.

Each of the girls was now wearing a wrap over her swimsuit. The increased coverage served to make my nakedness stand out all the more, and I felt it keenly. It was as if it made me even more exposed. I could feel the tingle of gooseflesh all over my ass. I had always thought my bum was my best feature. It had often gotten me some compliments, the way it looked in jeans. But I was definitely not used to showing it off in the altogether! I couldn't have felt more exposed if I had been in the street!

The girls showed no hesitation in looking me over and discussing me in detail. The two senior women were the patrons of this sorority, and Mrs. Marlowe was the art instructor at the city college. They were happy to provide an educational and artistic experience for the girls and seemed to get as much amusement out of my display as the co-eds did.

Matt's total, carefree acceptance of his nudity contrasted with my discomfort. He bantered back and forth in good humor, and blissfully ate up the attention he got from the ladies.

Annie and Renee escorted me by the arms to a center-stage position, preventing any attempt to use my hands to cover my distended member's pendulous swinging. My keen awareness of my display made me feel more timid, yet my swinging dick began to tingle and prickle with greater excitement. It jerked jauntily before me as they guided me into position.

"Say hello to little willy, girls," Annie announced.

"I would like to debate that. I'd say 'not-so-little' willy!" said the girl introduced as Lucie. "He sure does rise to the occasion, doesn't he?"

Lucie reached out and playfully stroked the tip of my anxiously twitching erection with her index finger, sending shivers of delight up my spine and weakening my knees. I was not used to having women touch, ogle, and discuss it so flagrantly. They all dismissed any notion that it deserved any privacy. My most personal part was becoming very much public property among these bold women. I never felt such a mixture of embarrassment and elation at one moment before. It was becoming delightful exhilaration! As exposed and aroused as I was, I no longer wanted escape or cover - I now wanted them all to look and appreciate!

Annie and Renee were each rubbing my legs and buttocks as each girl was introduced, even tickling the little hairs of my ass cleavage, sending a thrill that made me gasp a little. They knew how to drive me closer to the brink of delirious ecstasy. My dick was throbbing and jerking with the intensity of on-the-brink horniness and was as hard as I had ever known it to get.

The girls carefully kept my own hands away from my highly charged cock, managing my arousal with expertise to keep me from reaching the climactic release that was so perilously close! They were superbly in control - my masculine hunger so completely stirred up, yet reigned in by their feminine talents. They were masters - or should I say mistresses - of ruling the phallic organ, and I was under the spell. Under this intensity, my embarrassment had reached a peak and was kept suspended there until it began to morph, to transform, to mutate into a form of exhilaration so much beyond my experience that it seemed magical and electric!

Mrs. Marlowe led her young buck Matt gently by his penis to join our little group. Mrs. Gallagher stood near us and the other girls gathered closer as she began to speak. Matt's penis throbbed and quivered in Mrs. Marlowe's controlling grasp as his blushing cheeks framed a delighted grin. He was as aroused as me!

Mrs. G spoke: "Ladies, you are familiar with my theories. Observe this evidence before you. Understand how important and precious and deep the entwinement of a male's penis is with his ego. His sense of self, masculinity, his self-worth, and his sexual power - even his economic power, is intimately connected with his sexual organ, especially here..." she very gently rubbed a moist fingertip around the highly sensitive tip of my lurching, straining dick head. I absolutely gasped for air, my knees went weak, and my butt clenched and quivered. I almost came, if she hadn't withdrawn her touch. My piss hole was drooling pre-cum like never before!

She went on, "He is always fighting an internal struggle between pride and shame. He wants to be so proud of this very symbol of his maleness, his 'manhood' - yet at the same time he fears your disapproval of it, your criticism and dissatisfaction or rejection of it, or even your preference for the 'manhood' of one of his rivals. That his most glorious part will not be judged glorious enough - oh, the shame!"

Now she fingered the tip of Matt's raging erection, sending him to similar heights of rapture. "Young Will is hoping I will prefer to enjoy his offering over that of matt. That I will return to him and reward his pleading phallus over this one," she had the twin lobes of the underside of his rosy glans resting on her fingertips, displaying the slit that was drooling onto her fingers. All the girls eyed our pricks closely. She put her slickened fingers to his lips. "Lick!" was her one-word command. He lapped her fingers clean.

"Both of these virile studs are in desperate need of relief, both dicks are drooling, weeping, begging to be taken over the brink they are teetering upon. And both know that I am controlling and deciding at what moment they may have that glorious ecstasy - delaying and withholding it until I alone am ready for it to happen!"

She turned and sat in a chair that one of the co-eds had placed for her. Like a regal queen on a throne, she surveyed our two pleading naked forms. There was no recourse from our rampantly horny predicament, naked for all to watch. The two older women were in full command of the scene. Mrs. G spoke, 'Tell us, young Will, just how much you want to cum for us now. You must beg permission for it!"

My cock was aching and yearning to blow a load. my balls heavy with need. "Oh yes! Please! I do need it... want it... please let me cum! I can't wait any more! Have mercy on my sore need, my aching balls! I beg of you all!" I moaned in supplication, knowing she held the key to paradise.

Matt was groaning, "Me! Me, Mrs. G! Please let me cum for you! Let me cu-cu-cummmm for all of you - puh-leeze ladies!"

We both competed to convince them we had the greater need. The girls were spellbound with delight to watch us squirm with pent urgency, as we begged womanhood's permission to gush our splooge before them, confessing our male needs.

Bra tops were pointy with erect nipples, crotches darkened by dampness. All were waiting expectantly for that moment.

Mrs. Gallagher nodded. Annie released my right arm and cooed in my ear "Do it, stud muffin!" I quickly grabbed my bobbing, throbbing cock and pumped it with reckless abandon! It didn't matter who was looking while I jacked it furiously - I just needed to cum!

I bucked my hips and my knees gave way. I would have fallen on the deck if Annie and Renee had not been holding my trembling naked form steady. I felt the surge rising in me, and then my cock erupted violently and shot huge jets of hot, creamy jizz into the air, splattering the deck at Mrs. Gallagher's feet. I heard Matt groan loudly, and give a throaty sigh. Instantly I was smacked in the chest and belly with gobs of his gooey cock juice. It didn't matter. I had finally shot my load, and knew his need had been as unrelenting as my own. We both sank to our hands and knees, breathless and spent. Our eyes met. Amid a riotous storm of feminine laughter, I barely heard his words, "Welcome to my world, buddy!"

We both sighed, and grinned!



Mrs. Gallagher's Pool Pt. 04



Annie called me at work a couple of days later. She explained that Mrs. Marlowe had a problem with her art class. That night's class was in nude painting and their usual male model was ill and couldn't attend.

"Would you please be a dear, and stand in for us? We want to keep on schedule and the anatomy sessions are so important," she pleaded. "You've already met several of the girls in the class, and they like you. Most of us have seen you naked already, too. Could you help us out, Will?"

I was reluctant, but it would be hard to let Annie down. Besides making points with the girls! Annie and Renee were becoming my good friends, and I was getting used to them seeing me in the buff. How difficult could this be?

"Just have a quick shower, and I'll see you by the pool around six!" she said breezily and hung up.

After work, I grabbed a quick burger on the way home. I showered and shaved, then pondered what to wear. Hell, I will just be stripping it off again for the posing, so why bother! I sauntered out poolside in my birthday suit, enjoying the afternoon warmth and bracing myself for another naked appearance for girls.

Annie soon popped in at the gate. "Why are you naked? We have to get going or be late!"

"It's nude posing, right? I thought it was happening here! Where are we going?" 

"No, no! The class is in the arts building on campus. I came to drive you there," she explained.

"Okay. Let me get dressed, then. I won't be long."

"There's no time. We've gotta go now, or the class will be delayed!" she urged.

"I can't go there undressed. It's a public place!" I protested.

"You'll be in the car. No one will even notice. I'll park in the back lot, and close to the door. No one is likely to be around but the art students. Come on!" she was pulling me towards the gate, now, holding my wrist.

We hopped into her shiny red BMW convertible, and the top was down. It was such a gorgeous day. 'No one will notice? Riding naked in a flashy red Beemer that screams for attention!' I thought as we sped down the alley and spun into the street.

Everything felt surreal as I sat there naked, the distance between me and my clothes growing greater by the second. I was very aware of the warm leather seat under my bare bum, and the breeze wafting all over my exposed flesh, even down in the nether reaches between my thighs. But no one seemed to be paying us any unusual attention, and I started to relax.

After a few blocks, she turned onto West Grand Avenue, one of the busiest streets in town.

"Why are you going this way? Keep to the side streets so there's less chance of anyone seeing me!" I insisted.

"The Avenue is quicker. I'm not worried that anyone will notice anything," she replied.

"You aren't the one who's naked! And I can't cover up if I'm spotted like this!"

"You should have been ready - and dressed. It was a silly goof, so don't blame me for it! We'll soon be there, anyway, and you'll be fine. Stop freaking over it!" she argued.

The Avenue is a wide 4-laned street that is usually very busy, even in the evening, and it was at that hour. We came to a stop, third car back in the inside lane, as a light turned red. A big jacked-up pickup stopped beside us, and the driver looked right down into the open car. Lovely Annie in a hot sports car would turn anyone's head!

"Hey! She's got a naked guy in her car!" he called out to a buddy. They both laughed loudly. "Hey, nudie boy, can't you keep your pants on 'til ya get her home? Can't really blame ya, though. She's a hottie, man!" They were still laughing when they turned at the corner, but at least they were gone.

In the next block, we were parallel to a bus. Some of the passengers noticed me, and were pointing and joking. About half the bus got a look at me anxiously covering my goods with my hands. There was nothing more I could do, but give Annie a red-faced scowl and urge her to hurry up. It seemed she was taking her time after claiming such a tight schedule. Was she really enjoying my panic?

Thankfully, we soon turned into the entrance drive of City College, and drove to the side lot at the arts building. No one was in view at this secluded lot, as Annie put up the top and locked the car. I followed her into the building, cock and balls dangling freely in the late afternoon air. A titter of giggles went through the room as we entered.

Mrs. Marlowe greeted me with a smile. "Thank you, Will, for agreeing to help us tonight. We didn't really expect you to arrive naked, though. That is quite unusual! But you'd be disrobing anyway, so I suppose it saves time?"

"He was confused about the location. He thought it was by the pool. We didn't have time to correct his mistake," Annie told her. I felt a little foolish.

"Okay. It's fine. Just stand on the platform, there, and try to relax. Class, this is Will Barrett, and he is gracious enough to substitute for Marcus, our usual model, who is ill tonight. Please welcome him," Mrs. Marlowe introduced me, to a round of applause.

"Now, Will, please turn your back to the class, left hand on your hip... back a little more to show the curve... turn your knee a bit, yes... that's good... head left, up a bit... great, hold that!"

She moved through the room, watching the work of each student, and giving comments on body form, painting techniques, and making suggestions on their work. She commented on my physique and skin tone, advising on color blending and other details. I was thankful to be facing away, as the discussion of my body kept me very aware of my state of exposure, and I began to have a slow stirring in my groin.

'Oops. Not now. Not here. No. No! NO-O-O! Think of something else! Don't get aroused now. It's not listening to me. Stop it!' I tried to stem my gradually increasing growth before anyone noticed it.

Mrs. Marlowe went past me to consult one of the art books on her desk, and saw my slowly levitating appendage, now almost horizontally protruding into open air. She smiled, but made no comment as she returned to assist a student. Knowing that my condition was no longer my secret made it all the more difficult to stop thinking about it, so I was rapidly losing the battle to control it. My love rod angled higher and higher, growing longer and firmer by the moment.

Then Lucie noticed it! She was on the left flank of the class, and had a more advantageous angle of view than the others. "Should I include his penis in my painting, ma'am? It is peeking out past the curve of his hip!" That caused a few giggles.

"It is your canvas, so you can paint it as you see it, my dear!" was the answer.

"Then I will have to blend a pinker shade, because it is a different tone from the rest of him!" she remarked.

"I'll bet it's no redder than his face! Lisa challenged. "I can't see it from here. Is it a big one?"

"Showing good potential, and getting nicer and nicer!" she smirked, as I grew to full bloom, my twitching and tingling cock totally refusing to obey my efforts to diminish it.

"Now I must re-do his face. It has gotten much more florid since I painted it!" Susan lamented.

"And his dong is now long!" Lucie informed, with a howl of laughter that made even Mrs. Marlowe chuckle.

"Now, ladies! We all know how amusing the male anatomy is, particularly that most special part of it! But do try to maintain some composure, for the sake of the model's comfort."

"I am sorry, ma'am. But I could see how hard he was fighting to keep it down, and it just kept rising up and up! It's so funny that he can't get it to do what he wants!" Lucie had everyone laughing openly over my embarrassing predicament. Only the two male students looked sympathetic, but probably glad it was me having the problem and not them.

"Well, I was about to call a break. And normally the model would put on a robe at that point. But since Will didn't bring a robe - or anything else - and since this situation has... ahem!... arisen, shall we say... we will make good use of this occasion." Mrs. Marlowe then paused to decide her next words.

"Some of you are taking this course to become more familiar with anatomy for your medical major. So, as our model has developed a glorious example of what happens to our favorite part of the male physique, we will study it now. Mr. Barrett, if you would please turn to face the class, and display your penis for us now."

Whoah! I had an erection that looked like it could uproot trees! She wanted me to turn around and openly point it right at everyone? My mind was reeling and my stomach was fluttering. But I was turning, and every eye was focused directly at what I was now bringing into full view of their mirthful gaze. I took a deep breath!

"Class - behold the male sexual organ in all its masterful glory! Our model has reached the prime of his masculinity and virility. He cannot contain his very normal, youthful hormonal response; the results are highly obvious to all of us. His penis is at peak arousal! Please take up your sketchbooks and make some detailed drawings. Mr. Barrett, please move around the room and present your erection to each student, so they can get a proper view for their drawings."

"I think we can take our time! It doesn't seem to be going away anytime soon," Rachel suggested.

"True. When a male is highly aroused, he can remain erect as long as his sexual urge is being stimulated and not satisfied. Any number of things can cause or enhance that stimulus. Fortunately, this environment is providing very favorable conditions for Mr. Barrett to maintain his tumid state, and he is giving us an excellent display to study. Thank you, Mr. Barrett!" She was totally unabashed in her discussion of my throbbing erection.

As I paused in front of each student, everyone became very familiar with my most intimate details. I almost skipped past James and David, but the instructor insisted they needed to draw it as well. I flagged a little bit under their scrutiny, and Mrs. Marlowe held it aloft so they could examine it. Her touch had it raging to full engorgement again by the time I presented myself to Annie and Renee, the final two sketchers. They winked at each other, and at me! It lurched, much to their delight.

As the class ended, and everyone departed, Mrs. Marlowe thanked me again. "We did so much appreciate you for standing in, Will. And you gave us a much more delightful session than we had anticipated! I hope your arousal was not too distressing to you? I'm sorry we don't have a robe for you. I suppose you have to go away as naked as you came."

"He will be just fine! I will see to it personally, and get him home safely," Annie asserted. "It was a marvelous class!"

At least it is dark now, I thought as we went out the door. At the car, Annie fumbled in her purse. "I can't find my keys. Must have dropped them in the classroom. Everyone has gone and the building is locked. I will have to phone campus security to let me back in."

Great! There I stood naked in a parking lot, with no cover at all, and a massive hard cock, while she phoned, wondering what the security officer would think!

An eternal five minutes later, the campus car arrived. Officer Charlene was highly amused by my situation, as she opened the door for Annie to retrieve the mislaid keys.

"We get streakers on campus sometimes, as pranks, but they don't usually stand around and allow our perusal of the goods. I hope this signals a new trend! You've made my day!" she said cheerfully.

Annie patted my arm. "He's been a real sport and filled in as model for our art class tonight."

"A real sport, indeed! I hope he sports that again!" the officer smiled, with a parting glance below my waist before driving away.

----

On the way home, Annie took the side streets through the residential neighborhoods. Sure, now that its dark, she takes the quieter route! I sat there trying to will my erection to subside, and she reached over and gave it a friendly petting. It leaped back to full mast again. She obviously was loving my helpless plight, and having so much control over it. 

Suddenly, a pizza guy backed out of a driveway where he had just finished a delivery, and grazed Annie's bumper. The damage was trivial, but the guy insisted on a police report. Annie wanted to dismiss it, but he persisted. So I was stuck there in the buff, waiting for the cops to arrive. In a few minutes the cruiser pulled up behind us. Just grrreat! Another lady copper.

"First things first. Wait over there on the sidewalk until I write up the accident report, then I want to deal with you!" she instructed me.

"Could I please sit in the car while I wait?"

"No! Do as I tell you. Just stand there, where I can keep an eye on you, sir!" she ordered sternly.

It just wasn't my day! There I stood, stark raving naked on a public street, right under the glare of a STREETLAMP! For crying out loud! And then DAMN! A family cruises by, slowly, mouths gaping as they take in the incredible sight of me standing there in the raw! I heard the mom tell the teens in the back seat not to look, but that was too late... they were snapping pics with their phones, and texting to their friends! Now my bare ass was truly going public!

The officer finally turned to me. "Okay, buster. Name, please. And then tell me why you're gracing us with your birthday suit!"

"I'm Will Barrett. And this is all accidental."

"Well, you are living up to your name. What an unfortunate double entendre! You decided that you 'will bare it' tonight, on the public streets. Some of the homeowners around here might not appreciate your choice of un-dress." 

Annie intervened to vouch for me, explaining the series of events that led to this situation. She assured the officer that she was taking me directly home.

"Well, don't let it be said that I'm not a friend of the arts! I'm letting you off the hook this time, but do remember your clothes next time you are feeling artistic," she said with a sly grin.

Annie drove us home. I walked in the gate, my still firm erection gyrating stiffly before me. I had given up on concealing it from Annie, and she thanked me again for my participation in the very revealing art class. She patted my salivating rod, kissed me on the cheek, and said "I think we had better take care of this, or you'll be 'up' all night!"



Mrs. Gallagher's Pool Pt. 05



A few days had passed since my experience with nude modeling for the art class. My nerves over the public exposure had returned to a more normal state, especially with the relationship with Annie growing increasingly close and intense. It seemed to have my libido on a 'high' and I was sporting erections almost at the drop of a hat, much to the amusement of the girls around the pool each evening. Nude time by the pool was becoming a daily ritual, both to relax and wind down the day, and to be close to Annie. It also was giving her many occasions to wear down my inhibitions about nudity, since there were usually more than the two of us present. She was enjoying the fact that I was essentially required to be nude, and my frequent arousal allowed me no excuse to retreat. If I wanted time with her (and I surely did) it meant hanging out bare-balls naked at the pool, no matter who else was with us. And since I was usually sleeping in her bed, my clothes were left next door in my own unit. So, I was often in her flat with not a stitch of clothes at hand, all night long. 

On this particular night, Matt and I were taking a cooler back to his apartment next door, as the evening was wrapping up. The section of alley between the two properties was bordered by homes with privacy fencing or hedges, so it was not difficult to walk from the pool gate to Matt's garage apartment in the buff without drawing any attention. Matt routinely came over to maintain the pool, walking over naked and leaving his clothes at home.

As we carried the cooler between us, I heard a noise behind me, and turned to see someone ducking behind Annie's car. A prowler in our parking area!

"Matt! Some guy's messing with the cars!" I hissed, and we quickly sat the cooler down and sprung into action. The unknown guy ran down the alley, and we were in hot pursuit. Our anger at that moment made us virtually forget our state of undress as we sprinted after the fleeing intruder.

A couple of houses up the alley, he cut into an open driveway, running along it toward the street on the opposite side of the block. Crossing that street, we followed as he ran through the side yard of another house, cutting through another alley and lawn, until he bumped into a lady who was removing a box from the back seat of her car, sending him sprawling on her lawn. Before he could recover, I tackled him. We rolled and scuffled onto the curb until I could pin him. Matt was calming the startled lady, who then called the police.

"I've got this dude, Matt. Run back and bring us some clothes, buddy, before a crowd collects!" I didn't really fancy the thought of a crowd of onlookers, and the police, while I was buck naked again, in public, two blocks from my clothes! But I wasn't about to let this guy get away.

There I was, jaybird naked, pinning this prowler to the pavement, under the glare of a streetlamp. And sure enough, there came the police cruiser - and it was the very same female officer that I had encountered during the fender-bender the night of the art class! Not again! And now some of the neighbors were beginning to come out and see what the disturbance was. Caught bare-butt naked, in public, again - and absolutely no refuge!

At least a dozen people were gathering as the officer exited the cruiser and approached us. What could I do, but sit there naked on my captive, until surrounded by the officer, the lady, and a mostly female audience? Oh, Grrrreat!

"You can let him up, now, Mr. Barrett. I'll take over from here. I see you're very bare again. Seems like I'm never going to meet you while you're wearing anything other than your birthday suit. Another art class, tonight?" the officer chided me, in a half-humorous tone.

"N-n-not really, Officer. I j-just saw this guy prowling around our cars in the alley and had to chase him down. There was no time to do anything about my... um... nakedness," I began to explain.

"Oh, Officer! I'm Sandra Nelson, the one who called this in. Please give the young man a break. He and his friend are to be commended. They came to my rescue as that oaf practically knocked me down as he ran through my driveway. I think he is the same man who was prowling around here a caught him," the lady said.

"It will be okay, Mrs. Nelson," the officer assured her. "I've met Mr. Barrett before. I know he is harmless. Just prone to wander away from home with no pants, apparently!"

As I rose and released the captive into the officer's custody, Mrs. Nelson noticed that I had sustained a scratch on my right arm and scuffs on both knees due to wrestling our suspect on the pavement. She retrieved a first aid kit from her car and offered to attend to my abrasions.

At that moment, Matt returned with Annie and Renee, but no clothes! He had a towel from the pool wrapped around him. Annie hastened to my side, and I assured her I was okay other than the minor abrasions from the scuffle.

"It seems your friend is the hero of the evening, but without a cape or tights... or anything else!" the officer commented. "The prowler he nabbed is a guy we've been looking out for. He is a suspect in several incidents of theft from an auto in this general area, and was obviously up to more of the same when your guy spotted him and gave chase."

Annie was holding my left arm and Mrs. Nelson was bandaging my right one where the scratch happened, rendering me unable to cover any part of my naked anatomy. The group of onlookers was taking in a bountiful eyeful of my more vulnerable regions, and beginning to enjoy the show, now that the commotion had settled down and the suspect was secured in the back of the squad car. I was now the number one point of attention.

Annie's long hair tickled my shoulder as she leaned in close to me, still holding my arm. Mrs. Nelson was now kneeling to tend my scraped knees, her face just inches from my totally exposed manly assets. Combine all of that with the smiling female observers, and it is no wonder that I began to feel that familiar and delightful sensation start down below. My balls began to crawl upward as my scrotal sack tingled. My cock began to lengthen and inflate slightly. I tried in vain to will it away, but of course it was not obeying at all. It persisted in growing and slowly rising until it was pointing straight out in front of me, displaying itself brazenly to all who cared to gaze at it. Mrs. Nelson couldn't possibly avoid noticing my stiffening sex tool - it was practically in her face!

Annie gently grazed my buttocks with her long fingernails, sending thrills through me. She was looking down at Mrs. Nelson's ministration of my knees, and had to fully know what she was doing to my already ascending libido! My mounting attachment was rising more with every pulse, gradually twitching and lurching higher, like the hand of a clock ticking upward. My breathing was becoming deeper and harder, as the arousal spread through me.

"I think he is recovering his stamina quite rapidly!" the officer smiled. "It seems he will be in fine shape very soon!"

Just then, a news car had arrived from Channel 5 and a reporter and cameraperson had approached us. They were both attractive females, and looked startled when they realized I was completely nude and growing fully aroused.

"Is this the suspect?" the reporter asked.

"No, no! This is our hero in the case. The suspect is in my squad car," the officer answered. "Did you want to interview anyone?"

"Yes. I'm Channel 5 reporter Cindy Crisp, and I would like to cover this incident on the Crisp Morning Report," she replied. "I didn't realize anyone involved was naked. That wasn't mentioned on the scanner."

"Well, I didn't want to add extra difficulty for our young man here, but it looks as if he is 'up' to it now!"

"Indeed!" agreed Miss Crisp, with a grin. "Amazing how rapidly a virile young man can rise to the occasion, even under strained circumstances!"

"Do you think you could speak to us about what happened tonight, sir?" she asked me, casually looking up and down the full length of my nakedness. She smiled with amusement as my growing rod suddenly lurched to its full upward position, locked and loaded. It was rocking and throbbing noticeably with every pulse beat, like a racehorse eager for the gate to open. 

"I... um... well-l-l..." I stammered uncertainly.

"He'd be happy to have an interview, that is, if his first aid is complete?" Annie looked down at Mrs. Nelson, inquiringly. As she looked up to answer, my pulsating erection was directly in the line of sight between them. They shared a moment of feminine understanding, silently enjoying the predicament in which they held a virile, naked and horny male! Surrounded by females, expecting my cooperation with their requests, and totally devoid of any possibility of hiding any detail of my anatomy - and now offered up on a platter by my gorgeous girlfriend to a female reporter and camerawoman! 

"All finished. He is quite ready for action!" Mrs. Nelson assured with a wink, as she gave my right thigh a gentle rub. She stood up and stepped back, but remained nearby to watch the interview. Annie remained attached to my side.

"Good morning, viewers! Cindy Crisp here, with a story that broke during the late evening. A thief was nabbed while attempting to break into some cars. There has been a rash of such activity in the Parkside neighborhood, and an amazing turn of events has cracked the case. A bold and daring young man has captured the suspect, who is now in custody. And our hero, surprisingly, apprehended the thief... while totally nude! Not your average crime-buster!"

Carmen, the camerawoman, zoomed in on my face as I was introduced. "This is Mr. Will Barrett, who ignored his own risk of exposure to chase down and apprehend the suspect. How do you feel about this late-night victory, Will?"

"I, um... well... that is, I mean... I just sorta sprang into action, when I... um... saw him poking about..."

"Something else is 'poking about' right now!" a girl cat-called from the crowd, causing giggles all around.

"Perhaps we should lend him some cover?" asked Mrs. Nelson.

"He's okay, just flustered by the excitement," said Annie. "Let's just finish up, so I can get him home, okay?" She glanced at the officer.

"It's okay. No one seems to have any objection to his lack of dress. I've heard no complaints. Go ahead and finish up," the officer agreed.

No one seemed concerned with asking if I had any objection to remaining naked and aroused, with a TV camera in my face, on a public street in front of a mainly female crowd of onlookers. Everyone seemed to actually enjoy my discomposure!

"Will, the community certainly congratulates and thanks you for gallantly intervening to stop what would surely be another theft, if not for your bold action," Cindy was saying. I was mainly aware of my bobbing and throbbing dick, on full display for this local celebrity reporter. And the camera, which was now honed in on my erection. I gulped hard, and stared at the camera with my mouth gaping open. Carmen was filming my ragingly horny dick! What the fuck!! My mind was reeling - they can't put that on TV news!! I groped to cover it with my free hand and tried to free my other one from Annie, but she held it firmly.

"Don't worry, Will. Any intimate parts will be blurred when we edit. It won't go public on the morning show!" Cindy assured me.

"Then why is she filming my crotch?" I gasped.

"Carmen is working on a documentary about male sexual attitudes and responses in our culture. It is for her journalism finals. It isn't for public airing on TV." Cindy asserted. 

I looked around. All the women seemed to be in agreement that this was okay, that I should be allowing this to continue. That a naked man is fair game for female eyes. Their attitude seemed to be that my resistance was being overruled by their numbers, and the fact that I had no clothes and was on a public street.

As they wrapped up the scene, and the news team and squad car pulled away, Annie thanked Mrs. Nelson for attending to my injuries. She patted my shoulder and said, "My pleasure, after what you did. It's getting cool out, you should probably be getting home."

"Exactly where we're pointing now!" Annie responded, gesturing at my rod, which was now pointing directly ahead as we faced the driveway we had come through earlier. She gripped me by the penis, with her right hand, and gently led me back to her flat. It had returned to full mast by the time we crossed the first alley and remained that way until she had me moaning wildly in her satin sheets at home!



Mrs. Gallagher's Pool Pt. 06



I only know about this conversation because Annie told me MUCH later, after it was over.

Annie - I talked Will into taking a few days of vacation, so we're on for the beach trip. It's gonna be fun!

Renee - You bet! Will still doesn't know the 'details' about our beach, does he? It's best to keep him in the dark until we spring it on him.

Annie - He doesn't suspect a thing! Completely in the dark about it. I've been keeping him thinking with his prick lately, and you know how easy that is!

Renee - Right! Switch on a prick, and the lights go dim upstairs. Tee-hee! It's a splendid trick Mother Nature plays on men. Clever old girl, Mother Nature!

Annie - And I have a clever trick up my sleeve, too! He is going to end up at the beach house with nothing to wear. Totally starkers the whole time, and no way out of it!

Renee - How will you pull that off? Won't he pack a bag? I doubt he'll go for another naked drive, after being caught naked in the street twice!

Annie - Don't worry about how. Just know he will be there, and his clothes won't! In fact, he won't have anything AT ALL. Just his cute naked ass!

Renee - I can't wait to see that lovely plan unfold, but I'm still a skeptic.

Annie - These will get him there, and my sweet persuasion. (she waved a blue Speedo in the air and grinned)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Why do they call it Longlegs Beach? I haven't heard of it before," I questioned, while packing my beach bag.

"Maybe you need long legs to walk it. Parts of it are pretty remote. Mrs. Gallagher's beach house is in a beautiful setting. You're going to love it! Oh, by the way, I have a surprise!"

Annie dug into her bag and pulled out a blue Speedo suit, and twirled it on her index finger. "I want you to wear this!"

"Um - a bit skimpy, that! I prefer my board shorts. (sigh) Oh, well. I know you'll get your way. Here, I'll toss them in my bag," I resigned myself to wear them at the beach.

"Not so fast, my stud. I want you to wear them now! Go put them on, and I'll put the bags in the car. Don't fight me on it, babe. I'll make it worthwhile to you later. Besides, it's good tanning time in the convertible!" she insisted.

"Okay. At least it's a conservative blue one." I went into the bath to put it on, so I could see how it looked in the big mirror. It had a center seam to form a pouch for my bulge. A bit racy, but tasteful. A good pick if I had to wear one.

----

"Where's my wallet and keys?" I asked as I emerged in the swim brief. " I left them here on the kitchen table."

"I tossed them in your bag. We're all loaded up and ready to roll. The Beemer's warming up now - let's hit the road."

I closed the door and we ran out to her gleaming convertible. She had the top down, and we hopped in and cruised out. After a few blocks, she spun in to a gas station on the avenue.

"Fill it up, Will. I'm gonna grab us some sodas for the drive," she said breezily, as she hopped out, giving no chance to argue. So there I was, pumping gas in a skimpy swim brief right out on busy Grand West Avenue!

When she returned, she gave my butt a squeeze, winking at the lady in the next car, who was taking in a good eyeful of me.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The beach house was a full hour out of the city, on a secluded stretch of coastline. It was the last house on the street, separated from the next one by a stretch of dunes under preservation. There were also some low dunes between the house and open beach, offering a sense of privacy. From the deck in back, it felt like the only house in miles. The beach ran away to the north of us for a mile, backed by the pine forest of a timber company. Beyond that was an inlet to a shallow marshy area, cutting beach access from that end.

South of us, a quarter mile, were several other cottages, a small motel, and another dune preserve. It was quiet and other beachgoers seemed far distant to us. A splendid getaway!

Renee and Matt had arrived earlier, and had stocked the kitchen. Renee glanced at my brief and gave Annie a curious look. Annie just winked. More female secrets, I thought. I should have taken more notice - my mistake!

Matt and I got busy cleaning and firing up the grill while the girls prepped some food in the kitchen. While the coals were getting ready, we grabbed beers and headed for the hot tub.

"Hold it, guys!" Renee called out from the doorway. "The same rules apply here as at the pool. Lose the swimwear. If you own a wiener unwrap it before you dunk it!"

"Aww - give us a break today, girls! We're only planning to soak while the coals burn down,' I began to protest. "You get to see us naked plenty!"

"Nothing doing! Off with it!" she insisted firmly. "Mom will be here soon, and she's solid on the rules." Matt shrugged and doffed his shorts and tossed them on a chair, where Renee scooped them up. "We may as well tell them now, Annie. Are you ready for the fun to begin?"

"Sure! Guys, this is going to be your first ever, but not your last, all-naked vacation. Not only will you be nude in the tub and deck area, but full-time for the next few days. Nude sunning is common on this beach, so no one will blink an eye over it. No one will give you any trouble - except us! Hand over the briefs, dear!" Annie announced.

"That's why it's known as Longlegs Beach! Your long legs reach right up to your ass! A lot of naked ass is seen on these sands, to be sure," Renee added. So that's the reason behind the name - cute!

"Honey! I've been nude for you a lot lately, and in some scary situations, so let me hang onto these. You never know when a gawker or whoever may turn up," I argued.

"Absolutely not!" she asserted. "I'm simply confiscating the Speedo. It is my property, after all. I said that I wanted you to wear them on the drive. I never said they were yours!" She crooked her finger in the 'hand it over' signal.

I stripped off the flimsy garment and tossed it over. It wasn't really a problem to be naked around them, I was used to that. I just didn't know how many others might be seeing me bare-balls for the next few days. 

"I suppose my bag will remain locked in your trunk, then?"

Annie grinned triumphantly. "Actually, your bag is in my flat at home! Your natural assets are the only thing you have here at all. I will lend you the Speedo for the drive home - IF you're a good and obedient naked boy while we are on vacation!"

"Obedient?" I raised an eyebrow.

Smile. Nod. Yes.

"For the duration of our stay, you'll not only be totally naked, but completely exposed, more than you've ever been yet. Every detail is for open viewing of anyone who is present- ANYONE! No hands over the groin. No hiding behind anything. No sitting in positions intended to obscure your manly goods. In other words, I want you to flaunt it openly as if without a care. Shield your weenie, and you risk not seeing this again, scanty as it is! (holding up the brief)

She and Renee both looked like they had found a winning lottery ticket. Even Matt, as comfortable as he was with nudity, wasn't expecting this! This was stepping things up to a new level.

We were both inescapably bereft of all access to clothing, and specifically forbidden any means of bodily privacy. A four day holiday from any state of decorum. Our cocks and balls were under their control and command. I had been getting a lot of very horny erections since the relationship with Annie intensified. That would surely continue to happen here, and I saw that she meant to have a lot of entertainment at my cock's expense! She was going to make the most of it, and shred my last inhibitions about my intimate regions. They were now hers. She practically claimed to own them and was making decisions about them while overruling my objections and resistance. Both girls giggled - I was now saluting Annie's assertiveness with my most masculine token - a rock hard, quivering erection pointing gallantly upward in tribute.

Behind her, in the doorway, her Mom stood and took stock of her future son's most intimate assets, and chuckled merrily. How long had she been standing there? I knew that I had nowhere to retreat.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Hi, Mom! I'm so glad you're finally here. This is Will, the lovely hunk I've been telling you about. Isn't he just such a peach?" Annie introduced us.

"I was thinking about bananas at the moment, considering the condition he is presenting!" Mrs. parker replied, grinning broadly and giving my jutting tool a visual examination as she stepped forward to shake hands. "Nice to meet you, young man! All of you at once, so it seems!"

What a brazen group of women I had come to be among, lately!

"I'm sorry about this..." I began to explain, feeling sheepish about my erection.

"Well, I'm not. Quite natural in these circumstances. Nice to get matters right out in the open, don't you think? A penis is not exactly the 'pink elephant' in the room, around us ladies, despite the convenient entendre. We really quite enjoy the show. Call me Betsy, hon."

"It often just feels a bit too un-equal to me. Like right now." I sighed.

"Well, life can be that way, very often. I've heard you've been adapting quite well to the standards we expect of you. Are you faltering a little today?" she asked, with a look of compassionate concern. She was still looking me over. I felt like a garage-sale item.

All the women were amused, watching me struggle to maintain composure while interacting with my girlfriend's mother, while hopelessly naked and fully aroused. The women clearly had the upper hand, and were relishing the complete advantage they possessed.

"The male body is such an interesting piece of work, isn't it Betsy?" Renee asked.

"Oh, certainly. As is the male ego, or self-image. So very fragile, once the body is unwrapped and presented au naturel, without any protection for his imperfections. All things exposed for examination," she answered.

"Such a delicious joy for us, and so nerve-wracking for them!" Renee observed. She was holding Matt's arm and caressing it gently. Just enough stimulus to keep his pecker bobbing at a horizontal position.

"Such a gloriously powerful young body. And rendered so lost and helpless without a flimsy piece of cloth to hide behind! Yet, it is his most natural and comfortable condition, once he has learned to shred all his paper tigers of embarrassment. They stand between him and his ideal state."

"Well, we are going to help him tear apart some of those tigers this week! A lot of surprises are in store. But now, these studs need to grill some beef while we sip wine and study their beefy backsides!" Mrs. Gallagher said, stepping onto the deck. The house was filling up with females.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

As we finished the meal and cleared the table, the ladies gathered around us. There was an official air to the moment. Mrs Gallagher spoke.

"Just a few rules, boys! We want a productive as well as fun time while enjoying our beach vacation, so listen carefully. First, you have already been deprived of clothing. A necessity to set the stage for the other rules. You remain totally nude at all times.

Second, immediately and politely respond to any request or instruction from any of the women now present. The Marlowes will be joining us tomorrow. She will assist us also and is also to be obeyed. 

Third, you boys will do the grilling, the dishes, and the housekeeping. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of beach time. Attend carefully to whatever needs your girlfriends may ask of you, as gentlemen should. Lack of clothing is no excuse to fail as a gentleman. Act sharp! Obey quickly!

Next, the more difficult issue. Especially considering the recent degree of arousal you've both been exhibiting. Your ladies will help and supervise in keeping this rule. NO ORGASMS will be allowed during this trip, without direct approval. No matter how horny you are, no matter how much your erection is demanding relief, do not masturbate in any manner, nor do anything to facilitate an ejaculation. Do not ask permission to play with your penis - IT WILL NOT BE GIVEN! You will be experiencing many arousing stimuli, and it will not be possible to avoid them, but you are expected to endure it. Annie and Renee may intercede with me if they think you need and have qualified for relief. It will then be decided when, where and by what manner you shall receive it. Regard the girls as the new owners of your penises. Look at your firm cocks - but don't touch. Will, that stiff rod rising from your crotch now belongs to Annie, not to you! She has COMPLETE authority over it. Matt, that plump prick belongs to Renee. Keep your hands away from what is no longer yours! Even when you piss, you will be supervised and limited in touching it. This rule helps a penis-bearer to learn to use it to please a woman, not the man who carries the duties and liabilities of a penis!"

Annie's mom then spoke. "If you violate these rules, you are subject to punishment. You will be spanked with this paddle, in the open, bending over that picnic table. The sting in your ass may outweigh the tickle in your pickle!"

"Mrs. Marlowe will be bringing penis cages tomorrow. If your arousal is granted relief, it will be followed by a period of time in lock-up, so remember that when deciding to seek relief. If you don't want it caged, strive to maintain the 'hands off' rule. And of course, remember, you cannot conceal your penis under ANY circumstances - no matter WHO is present! No matter how horny you feel! No matter how embarrassed you may become!"

"Yes! Two fine pricks! Two sets of balls! And two sexy asses! Ours to enjoy, to tease, to show off, and to control." Renee squealed with delight.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I spent a very sleepless night. The abstinence had been imposed suddenly and without warning, and I had been a little horny all afternoon, with no opportunity for dealing with it. Annie was not going to budge on her tight enforcement. She was much amused by watching my dick and my reactions. She would tickle the tip or the frenulum, enjoying it as if it were the first time. Relishing the sense of power she held over it - her brand new toy! She sent shivers of ecstasy through me as she teased and withdrew, allowing it to subside, then tantalizing it again. It was incredible! Reminding me that she now owned the key element of my manhood, she cupped my balls in her palm. Cuddling them softly, she claimed title to them as well.

When she was ready to sleep, she cuffed my wrists to the headboard. It was now impossible to reach my yearning but denied L'il Willie, as she teasingly called it. I couldn't break the rule and she was making sure of it. So I finally subsided into sleep.

***



Mrs. Gallagher's Pool Pt. 07



Hi, this is Annie. I am taking over the narration for this part of the story. That's to make sure you get all the juicy details that Will might omit. You know how males can be! You DO know, don't you? Yeah, thought so!

Waking up to Mrs. Gallagher calling for "all pricks on deck," I pinched Will's naked butt to rouse him. He was finally snoozing well after his long, horny night. I unlocked his cuffs from the headboard and we had a quick shower. He was suffering that frequent condition among males, known as 'morning wood' and sharing a shower didn't help him any. I dressed quickly in a provocative outfit so I could keep him 'alert' down there, while he, of course, could only watch. I'm sure he would have been happy to just have the skimpy speedo suit at that point, but it couldn't have hidden his condition at all!

I made Will precede me onto the patio, to insure that the other ladies were greeted with his full display. I was quite enjoying the effect I could have over Will's intimate regions, and loved showing him off.

"He sure gives a new meaning to the expression 'rise and shine' doesn't he?" Renee quipped with a giggle as she studied his perkily swaying rod.

We all enjoyed Mrs. G's strawberry pancakes, a beach house tradition, along with scrambled eggs and steaming mugs of coffee. The morning was a little cool, and our naked guys appreciated the warm breakfast while waiting for the sun to burn off the cool mist of the early morning.

The two men were assigned the clean-up duties after breakfast. Mrs. G loves to prepare a meal, but insists that cleaning is male work, and we shouldn't let two idle hunks go to waste. We relaxed and watched their naked bottoms with amusement as they performed their work. As soon as Mrs. G and Mom approved the quality of their job, Renee and I took our guys for a beach walk.

She and I had both conspired to wear our form-fitting workout shorts, which hugged every detail of our derrieres, and loose halters that allowed our bosoms to move freely within. We were allowing nothing to distract Will and Matt's libidos from attentiveness. We wanted to make sure there was a hefty load of manhood swinging from their groins as we strolled in the morning sunshine.

Emerging from our dune path by the beach house, we turned north along the shoreline, heading towards the more remote section backed by the forestry plantation. Both guys were obviously feeling very exposed as we left the relative privacy of the patio behind us, every step now taking them further from any notion of hiding any aspect of their totally exposed assets.

We passed an occasional man fishing on the beach. Each was naked as he cast in the surf, relaxing the guys a little to see that nudity was indeed common on Longlegs Beach. "Legs right up to your ass!" was indeed the motto, but it was mostly male nudity, so not much eye candy for the guys. That kept their eyes on us.

Then we met the dog-walkers! Two local mavens of the beach community, Rita Hadley and Gloria Tucker, were having their morning walk, while allowing Muffin and Tonto to roam and explore. Both were conservatively dressed in capri pants and button-down tops. A strong contrast with the very un-dressed state of every male in sight. And ours were sporting two very stiffly erect appendages, wagging like wooden broomsticks in front of them. And absolutely nowhere to hide them! We kept them walking directly into the line of approach of the ladies, and they knew we would not tolerate any hands clutching at crotches. They were under strict rules not to touch their privates at any time without our permission, which they were not about to get!

The two ladies feigned indignation and shock over the aroused state of our boyfriends.

"Rita, can you believe the brazen flaunting of arousal by these young bucks!? I know this beach has a tradition of being clothes-optional, but these two have no shred of modesty left!"

"I agree, Gloria! Young man - have you no shame? Shouldn't you cover that- that- 'thing' of yours when it's in that state, at least while passing others? You're so aroused it looks like you could orgasm at any moment!"

"Rita, I don't think they can cover up! They don't seem to have a shred of clothes with them at all."

Will and Matt were caught in an enormously uncomfortable predicament, for them. And a very delicious one for us! And little did they know how much the two ladies were enjoying 'dressing down' our two very undressed hunks. Every one of us KNEW there was nothing whatsoever they could do, except stand there and take the experience that was being dished up! 

Matt was more used to nudity than Will, since he had been around us longer, but even he had not yet been subjected to this level of total immersion in the one-sided nature of this context. He also did not know these ladies, or that they were in on the arrangement. They were caught in a totally exposed, helplessly naked, ball-crawling, rock hard, cock-throbbing, full-frontal, electrically-erectingly embarrassing face-to-face confrontation with two women of their mothers' generation who were verbally berating them for their horny display of manly parts in public, with no avenue of escape, while the two women were secretly lapping it up with delight! 

Matt was looking lost and unsure of himself, while Will looked like he could bolt from the scene if I would have allowed it. Then he saw the wink I got from Renee, and it dawned on him, uncertainly at first, then like a wave washed over him - he realized! The ladies were complicit with us. It was part of their training to surrender their privacy completely into our control. To trustingly be naked whenever and wherever we required it of them. And in the presence of whomever.

They both actually looked relieved when all four women began to laugh. They were not in any real trouble at all, just the butt -pun intended- of an inside joke. Muffin and Tonto bounded up from their frolic at this point, and it was hysterically funny when Tonto put his wet nose into Will's bum to check out who this newcomer was on his beach.

We all then turned and walked back towards the distant row of beach cottages, our naked bucks pointing the way with their bobbing erections as we followed, comparing their lovely backsides. Will has a smoother butt, with a few curly hairs showing in his cleavage and a cute covering of peach fuzz on the bottom of each buttock merging into his leg hair. Just where you would cup a buttock with your hand to caress it. Matt has a thicker crop of darker hair in those areas, gradually thinning out as it fans across the muscular curves of his manly bottom. Different from each other, but both delectably cute to observe. We could tell they both were blushing deeply as we four women openly discussed every detail of their completely bared asses, in lovely motion just steps ahead of us.

Before we had gotten half-way to the house, Will had to pee. He insisted he couldn't wait to reach the house. Matt agreed that he needed to go also.

"There's no need to wait. Just go ahead and take care of it here," Rita said. "People have to pee on the beach all the time."

"I think they are hoping for a moment of privacy," suggested Gloria.

"Nonsense! Just pee. We've seen your maximumly engorged and rampantly horny erections, a much more personal and private function of your manly part than simple urination. There is no place to offer privacy anyway." Rita responded, looking Will in the eye. 

Renee and I agreed that they must pee openly for us all to observe, or not at all. They really needed to do it, so their resistance collapsed and we gave them permission to touch their shafts enough to aim their streams. Renee drew a target in the sand and told them to aim at it. It took a couple of minutes, even with full bladders demanding to be emptied, for them to get things flowing under the scrutiny of four females avidly studying the intricacies of the male psyche as much as the male plumbing.

Matt spurted a brief shot of golden liquid, faltered, then another, then a more steady and strong stream surged and overshot the target. He adjusted the aim of his rigid, horizontal hose until it was drenching the sand at the center of the circle.

Will began a few seconds after, a dribble, then a spurt, then a full stream. He aimed and was hitting just short of Matt's mark.

"It is so interesting that men have to be so competitive. Even peeing doesn't escape it! They have to try to outdo each other. And a moment ago, they wanted privacy from us. Now they are competing to impress us!" Renee remarked, and all the women shared a hearty laugh at the nature of males.

After they had drained their little hoses, the awareness of our examination caused them to return to a fully erect state, with a few rapid lurches upward. We were presented with two sky-pointing specimens of gallant masculine equipment, helmeted glans flaring, bright sun-glistened pink knobs pulsating with a mix of arousal and elation, of shame and pride dancing together within them. Saluting us, but nervously still.



Mrs. Giggles' Gang Shag



Last week I got an unwelcome call from Mrs. Giggles, one of them I receive periodically. "George," she ordered me in her whiny, nasal voice. "I'm horny again. Bring yourself and four other authors over to take care of it. Be sure you bring that sexy Raven; you know how much I want to eat her hot little cunt."

"Yes, Mrs. Giggles." Because of her prominence as an erotica critic, I and all the other Literotica authors had to do her bidding and when she said she was horny, that meant we would have to go and attend to her needs. I didn't like having to do it and I know most of the other authors didn't like it either but we realized that taking one for the team was something that sometimes had to be done. 

I decided to call Raven first. She is one of the few, maybe the only one, who would actually go willingly. She has a very sensitive and juicy pussy and Mrs. Giggles, whatever you might say against her, would do a really good job of eating her out. Because of the reviewer's known skill, Raven agreed with alacrity.

Besides myself, I would need at least one other man. It had to be somebody really hung because he would fuck the old broad's pussy while I was fucking her ass. I decided on Belegon, because he is young and strong and would be able to really fill her up and get her off, at least once, hopefully more than that. With some reluctance, he agreed. His chore and mine would not actually be all that onerous, nor would Raven's, so the easy part was done.

Because she is so sweet, I decided to call Honey for one of the other openings. "Aw, Geez, George, do I gotta?" she asked me when I told her what I wanted her to do.

"Yes, Honey, I'm afraid you must. After all, somebody has to, and you are the best suited for the chore. I'm going to be there, and Raven and Belegon and you don't hear us bitching, do you?"

"That's different. Raven is gonna sit on her face and have her pussy eaten and you and Belegon will be fucking the old battleaxe. You guys got it made. What she'll want to do with me is play with my ass and pussy with her bony fingers. If I wanted that, I could do it a hell of a lot better myself."

"I tell you what, Honey. Just go along with the program and let her frig you and get you off and I will edit the next story you submit. What do you say to that?"

She thought about it for a few seconds. "Make it the next two stories and you got a deal." 

I don't really mind editing Honey's stories but I couldn't give in too easily. "Okay, two of them, but make them short stories. No more than 5,000 words."

Honey agreed to that and I needed one more. Mrs. Giggles has some pretty definite ideas of what she wants, and I would have to go along with her demands. For one thing, she insists on a DP and Belegon and I would be taking care of that. She also wants a pussy to eat or a cock to suck and, on that occasion, it would be Raven's pussy. Two people would be masturbated, preferably one man and one woman. One would be Honey, which meant I would have to find some male author who was horny enough to be willing to be jerked off by her cold and bony old fingers. I was going to talk to the ones who had already agreed and ask for suggestions but, before I could do that, Hugo Sam volunteered for the job. Apparently, one of the others had contacted him and suggested he do so.

With myself and the other four set, I called Mrs. Giggles again so she could tell me the day and time. After we set it for the following afternoon, she sprang a very unwelcome surprise on me. 

"That's when the other four get here, George. I want you here to eat me out earlier than that, and get me off a couple of times so I can enjoy what you and the others do for me later. I've read enough of your stories that I know you like eating a juicy cunt and I want you to give me as much fun as you give the women in your stories."

I gulped at that and tried to beg off. "Mrs. Giggles, that's just fiction. I'm not really all that good at eating pussy."

"I don't believe you, George, and you'd better be here and do it right, if you know what's good for you. Now, I'll have no more whining. I'll see you tomorrow." After that, she hung up without saying good-bye or anything else.

I was stuck, and I knew it. Although I really like eating pussy and all the stories I have written about myself are true, I hated the thought of getting my face between Mrs. Giggles's bony thighs. Her crotch is about the skuzziest one I know of and, to make it worse, she covers up her own foul odor with strong perfume. 

Since I knew what was good for me, though, I was there at the appointed hour the next day. Raven and the other martyrs were scheduled to arrive later, after I would have already suffered the tortures of the damned. She was waiting for me, naked, reminding me of a skinny spider, and she led me to the bed that waited in her lair. Once there, she removed her dentures and put them in a glass on the nightstand. Obscenely, she sprawled on the silk sheets and pillows, grinned lewdly and gave me my orders. 

"Get to work, George. And make it good. Start on my tits like you always write about." 

Sometimes I wish I weren't so transparent in my writings, describing what I like to do. Tentatively, I stroked her first nipple with my tongue. It wasn't bad; I've certainly had my tongue in worse places than that. At first it felt flabby but after licking it a few more times, it started to become erect, and I could feel the tiny ridges pleasing the sensitive tip of my tongue. I continued licking, using broader strokes.

"Come on, George. I've got two of them, you know."

Her complaint was too obvious for me to respond to, except for starting to lick the other nipple. It also felt rubbery at first and there were several very stiff, black hairs that had sprouted around it. Licking her there was certainly not something I really wanted to do but, after a few more strokes of my tongue, the second nipple became erect too, making my chore less unpleasant. For as long as I could get away with it, I switched back and forth between her nipples, licking sometimes with broad strokes and sometimes just using the tip of my tongue. I knew very well what Mrs. Giggles would want me to do next but I was delaying it as long as I could.

Finally, she got tired of the delays. "That's enough of that, George. Start sucking on my tits. You know what I want."

Although I had never been together with her, I was well aware of what she wanted, having done it with so many women, and written about it so often. With some distaste, I drew one of her flabby dugs into my mouth and started gently sucking. My lips formed a seal on her wrinkled flesh and my tongue flicked against her nipple, which was still erect, and her areola. I sucked and licked on the first tit for a few seconds before starting do the same thing for its equally unappetizing twin.

"That's better. Keep doing that and I'll let you know when I want you to go down farther on me." 

I really hoped it would take a long time because I was extremely loath to start licking her unsavory pussy. For as long as I could, I switched back and forth between her tits, trying not to arouse her too much but it was no use. The acrid smell of her juices assaulted my nose and I could see her pussy squirming. I knew full well that, any second, she would insist that I bury my face in her crotch and start eating her out. 

That time arrived. "Eat my cunt, George," she demanded. One of her hands was holding a pillow and the other was pressing on the top of my head, pushing me down lower on her body. Usually, I kiss and lick and suck my way down a woman's belly, frequently stopping to probe my tongue into her navel, but I had no wish to do so with the wrinkled expanse of skin presented to me that day. Instead, I got off the bed and got back on to kneel between her legs. She lifted her ass and handed me the pillow so I would place it under her, raising her pussy to the best level for eating.

As I wrapped my arms around her legs and started to lower my face so I could get started on the disgusting chore, Mrs. Giggles had another demand for me. "Stick your finger in my asshole," she insisted. "You know damn well how ladies like you to do that when you eat their cunts.

She was right; I do know that, but I was trying to avoid doing it with her. Even through the foul odor of her pussy, I could smell that her asshole was a place I didn't want to put anything that I wanted to keep. Later, after the others had arrived, I would be fucking her ass, but there would be a condom on my cock during that ordeal. Nevertheless, I stuck my finger into the squalid place she wanted it, and started fucking it in and out. "At the first opportunity," I vowed, "I will wash my fingers with Clorox and a scrub brush."

Usually, when I eat a pussy, I start by licking up the fresh juices, knowing how delicious they are, but I couldn't bring myself to doing that with her. Just from the odor alone, I believed the taste would be foul beyond belief. As Mrs. Giggles had said, she was horny, so I decided to do what I often did when with one of my lady friends who was extra horny. After licking her pussy lips for a few minutes, I peeled the clit hood back and wrapped my lips around the swollen button that had been exposed. As I sucked, my tongue caressed the sides and top. Although her pussy was probably the most distasteful in my experience, her clit was not all that bad and I intended to lick and suck her there for as long as it took.

"Yeah! Yeah! Right there! Suck my clit!" 

Mrs. Giggles was really enjoying what I was doing. She was moaning from the pleasure and her pussy was fucking up into my face while her upper body thrashed on the bed. It wasn't really much fun for me, but I knew I had to continue until she climaxed. With any luck, she wouldn't want any more until the others arrived. 

"Yes!! Yes!! I'mmmmmmm COOOOOMMMMIIIING!!" she cried joyfully. I have always thought of her as something of a drama queen.

"Big, fat, hairy deal," I said to myself, but I clung to her leg with one arm; my finger continued going in and out of her ass, and I kept my mouth firmly affixed to her clit, sucking and licking for as long as it took. 

"Yes! YES!!" she cried a minute later as she climaxed. Her back arched, slamming her pussy extra hard into my face. After her orgasm, she completely relaxed on the bed. I hoped she would be satisfied but I had some doubts.

From reviewing my smutty stories, Mrs. Giggles is well aware that, when a woman is extremely horny, I often bring her to a quick climax by sucking almost immediately on her clit. I then take my time and bring her to a second orgasm much more slowly, taking my time and thoroughly licking her everywhere. I fervently hoped she wasn't going to expect me to that with her.

"That was good, George," she told me. Before she could say anything else, the doorbell rang. She looked at her clock.

"That can't be your friends. They aren't due for another 45 minutes."

I smiled inwardly. I had instructed them to arrive earlier than Mrs. Giggles had wanted them, hoping they would rescue me. Assuming that was them, my plan had worked.

I hadn't bothered getting undressed, although I would be naked later, as would everybody else. "I'll get the door," I told her, hoping it was the friends and colleagues I was expecting. By leaving like that, I was also spared having to lick up the foul smelling pussy juices she had just produced.

It was, but none of them seemed the least bit happy. Even Raven wasn't actually looking forward to the encounter, apparently having been told what a skank we would be dealing with. They were even less happy when they entered her bedroom and saw just how repulsive she was, lying there on her back in her nest of pillows, with her dentures on the nightstand. Mrs. Giggles knew Raven by sight, but not the others, so I introduced everybody to her.

"You're early," she told them. "But, since you're here, get undressed and start pleasuring me. You first, George. Take your clothes off and lay on your back here." Although a writing critic, her grammar isn't very good. 

For tactical reasons, I undressed slowly and, as I had advised them, so did Belegon and Hugo Sam. None of us were the least bit turned on by Mrs. Giggles's nakedness but, as we watched Honey and Raven exposing their beautiful, voluptuous bodies, the effect was what it would be on any straight man who was not blind. From ogling the two gorgeous, naked women, all three of our cocks grew stiff and ready. Mrs. Giggles, of course, noticed it too and knew what she wanted to do and with whom.

Having a good idea of what I would be getting into, I had brought a condom with me, one of the lubricated kind because Mr. Giggles might not bother to use any other lube. Before lying on her bed, I put it on; I certainly didn't want to put my bare cock into her nasty asshole. As I lay on my back, holding my cock ready, she spread her ass cheeks, squatted above me and began lowering herself until the tip of my cock was pressed against the opening it was supposed to go into. I rubbed against it, spreading the lube from my condom, and finally thrust upward, making penetration.

"Ahhhh," she sighed, and began squirming her ass, wanting to take my cock in deeper. I'm not very well hung and her ass is quite loose so my cock was able to squeeze its entire length into her. For a few seconds, she lay happily on top of me, stroking her ass back and forth, fucking herself on my erection.

"Squeeze my tits," she demanded of me, before turning her attention to Belegon. I had seen how her eyes had lit up when she had seen his big, stiff cock and now she wanted to do more than just look at it. "Stick that big tool in my cunt," she ordered him. 

As I gently squeezed Mr. Giggles's flabby breasts, Belegon got on the bed and walked on his knees until he was between her legs. Honey and Raven had observed Belegon's big, stiff cock too. They were looking at it in much the way as Mrs. Giggles had, and thrusting out their luscious breasts toward him. He, of course, was avoiding looking, any more than he had to, at the woman he was going to fuck, much preferring to alternate gazing at the lovely bodies and beautiful faces of the two authors. I was looking at Honey and Raven too, thereby enabling myself to keep my cock erect inside the unsavory place where I had been forced to put it.

Although Belegon's cock is big, it slid easily into the loose and wet pussy of Mrs. Giggles. "Okay, George and er, Belegon. Fuck me good, now. Really give it to me. Both at once. We quickly established our rhythm and were driving our cocks simultaneously into her ass and pussy. She moaned from the pleasure we were giving her and fucked down to meet our strokes.

"Okay, Honey. Sit on my right hand so I can play with you." Distaste clear on her pretty face, Honey did as she was told. 

"You're sure not very wet, are you?" Mrs. Giggles chided her. 

She bit back a retort that might have gotten us all in trouble. Knowing what was needed, Belegon raised his upper body so Honey could see his big, thick cock driving in and out of the porn critic's pussy. That erotic sight, combined with her active author's imagination, was enough to start her pussy juices flowing.

"That's better," Mrs. Giggles responded to her lubricating. "Okay, Hugo, or Sam, whatever your name is. Get on my left side so I can jack you off.

Bravely, Hugo Sam knelt within reach of her hand, but I could see him shudder when the bony fingers of Mrs. Wiggles were wrapped around his cock. Seeing a possible problem arising, Honey called out "Hugo" and, when he looked in her direction, started writhing and squirming, causing her succulent breasts to undulate provocatively. With this delightful view, he had no problem keeping his erection while Mrs. Giggles masturbated him.

Raven was the last of us to get into position. Although she was facing away from the rest of us, her arousal was not expected to be a problem. However ugly and disagreeable she might be, Mrs. Giggles is good at giving head, to either men or women. Minutes after Raven got into position, she was cooing in pleasure and her body was squirming on top of the pile of nakedness as her pussy was caressed by a skillful tongue. In fact, the sight of Raven provided visual stimulus to the men there. I was lying on my back and looking up at her succulent breasts swaying just inches away. My view of Honey had been mostly obscured but the lovely globes right above my face were enough to keep my cock hard. Although it was inside possibly the foulest place it had ever been, I looked up and imagined that I was stroking my cock in the delightfully pillowy channel formed by Raven's breasts.

Although Belegon had an unobstructed view of Honey's beautiful face and body, he had an even better view of Raven's ass as it moved atop Mrs. Giggles face. Remaining true to our mission and our common good, he kept his body upright, giving Honey a clear view of his cock thrusting in and out of the pussy of the woman we were there to pleasure. Later, after we had left, he told me of what a strong urge he had to lean forward just a few inches and start licking Raven's gorgeous ass. I admired his forbearance and am not sure that I would have been so loyal to our cause as to refrain from that incredible pleasure.

Raven was not the only one enjoying herself, of course. I was holding onto her breasts and Belegon's hands were on her bony hips but neither of us was attempting to keep Mrs. Giggles from moving as freely as possible. And, that is how she was moving. From the cocks surging in and out of her ass and pussy and the marvelous sex organs she was fondling and the delectable pussy she was eating, her body was thrashing between me and Belegon as she moved closer to a climax. As writers of pornography, we were all aware of what a woman does when she is about to start cumming, and we could all tell her orgasm was imminent. 

Although her face was pleasurably covered by Raven's pussy and she was not able to announce the fact, we all knew when she started cumming. Hugo Sam and Honey were quick enough and clever enough to remove their private parts from her hands, and they both watched in horror as her bony fingers knotted and twisted themselves around where a cock and a pussy had been. Permanent injury would have been the result if those two hadn't been so alert and moved so quickly. 

Raven stayed where she was although she later told us how Mrs. Giggles had stopped eating her pussy and had started rolling her head from side to side. I already knew that because her head was resting on my chest. Belegon and I continued fucking her pussy and ass, increasing the speed of our strokes but otherwise continuing what we had been doing. The body between us was thrashing more wildly than ever and her arms and legs flailed aimlessly for the entire time she was cumming. Abruptly, all her muscles clenched and relaxed as she climaxed. After her orgasm, Honey and Hugo Sam continued to avoid her hands and Raven stayed in place on her face. Belegon and I continued slowly fucking her, believing she would want to cum another time.

We were right. After a minute of rest, she pushed Raven up off her face and spoke to us. "That was pretty good, all of you, but keep doing what you were doing. I need to cum again."

After his narrow escape, Hugo Sam was reluctant to place his cock once again in such jeopardy and it had softened anyhow. Honey noted this and smiled at him while she cupped her hands under her lovely breasts, and leaned forward, pointing her nipples at him. That was enough to give him a full erection again, as it would have been to any man, and he allowed the bony fingers to once more close around his cock. Honey had no real problem, except for the distasteful problem we all had. Her pussy was still wet from staring at Belegon's cock as it did its job, and she moved back onto Mrs. Giggles's other hand. Minutes later, the movements of Raven's ass and breasts were once more keeping Belegon and me erect, and it was obvious that her pussy was being expertly eaten again. 




Mrs. Grace & I



My name is Richard Price, usually known as Ric. I think I must have been about four or five when I first became aware of Mrs.Grace. She lived alone three houses along the street from our house. My parents were quite friendly with her, and were the only people in our street who called her by her given name, Catherine. It was never Cath, Cat or Cathy, but always Catherine.

Mrs.Grace is a beautiful lady, but not in the popular advertising way, or like on TV and films. She is tall for a woman; I think about five feet ten inches, with long black hair, and with what people call, “Slightly hawkish looks.” She has almost black eyes and a slightly curved nose. Her mouth, which is not overly wide, has full red lips – the red is natural not lipstick – and they turn up at the corners and this seems to soften her otherwise austere face. 

Her neck is a particularly attractive feature, being long and slender, like a slim marble column. Her shoulders over which her hair tumbles when it is free – it is mostly tied back – are wide but softly rounded, and her arms when bare, display the same round smoothness.

Her breasts push out the shirts she mostly wears, and as she seems rarely to wear bras, they move as if with a life of their own, their nipples seen through the cloth. 

Her hips swell out to match her breasts, and although she has no children, she gives the impression that if ever a woman was built for baby making, it is she.

Her legs are long and slender without being thin, with strong calf and thigh muscles. She walks and sits very upright, always looking dignified.

Overall, one could say she is a “well-made woman.”

In addition to her physical attractions, Mrs.Grace speaks with a beautifully modulated contralto voice that one can listen to for hours without tiring of it. 

One other feature that has always fascinated me is her smell. Unlike most women she does not douse herself with perfume or deodorant, but always smells very clean and hygienic

She is very fond of gardening and when seen in her front garden during the week, she is almost invariably clad in a shirt, corduroy trousers, soft flat-heeled shoes and gardening gloves. Sometime she wears one of those sleeveless jackets dear to fishermen and hunters, with masses of pockets. In colder weather, she changes this jacket for a padded coat. In very warm weather the corduroy pants are replaced by very tight shorts that display her legs beautifully, and shows her plump mons and high, tight buttocks.

On Sundays, she goes to church in the morning and the weekday clothes are replaced by a simple linen dress in the summer, usually dark red or green that seems to emphasis her black hair. In winter, she adds a long woolen coat, also either red or green, but occasionally she wears a black one.

I think it would be true to say that Mrs.Grace must be infuriating to most women, as she is the sort of person who could dress in an old sack and make it look elegant.

My parents are the only people in the street who are on reasonably intimate terms with Mrs.Grace. As I have said, they call her by her given name. The rest of the people seem to be a bit in awe of her, or even a little scared. I suppose this is because of her somewhat pensive manner.

Another thing I learned about her was that she was what adults called a “widow.” I had no idea what this meant, except that it seemed to make her a bit different from other people. Like most of the things I have related above, I did not gather them all at once aged four or five, but observed or heard about them over the years.

The tragic story of the death of her husband I heard from Mrs.Grace herself when I was fifteen. I think I was and am the only person in the street who knows the story. In brief, she told me how they had been married less than a year when he was killed riding his motorbike to work one morning.

I first got to know her when, escaping from the confines of our garden through the front gate being left accidentally open, I ventured down the street and reaching Mrs.Grace’s house I was attracted by her garden. Looking through the wooden bars of her garden gate, I saw, not an orderly, highly drilled garden, but a wild sort of place.

I do not mean that her garden was a mess or littered with garbage, but it was laid out to give the impression that it was as nature intended, and not a human construct. When my mother read Kenneth Grahame’s “Wind in the Willows,” to me, the description of “The Wild Wood” was for me Mrs.Grace’s garden.

As I looked at her garden, I became aware of the tall figure of Mrs.Grace looking down at me from the other side of the gate. I stared up at her towering above me like all adults seem to when you are little. The black hair and dark eyes were scary, but she smiled and said, “You’re Richard, aren’t you?”

I think I said something like, “Yeth.”

“Does your mother know you are out in the street?” she asked.

As best as I can recall, I made no reply.

“Come along Richard,” she said, “we’d better take you back to mummy.”

She took my hand in hers and it felt safe and strong. We walked back to my house and I was taken up to the front door. When my mother answered Mrs.Grace’s ring on the bell, I was admonished, “You naughty boy. How did you get out?” You know, all that parental stuff!

Mrs.Grace departed followed by my mother’s thanks for bringing me home.

From then on, having once escaped from my place of confine, I took every opportunity to go out into the wide world and look through the gate at the Wild Wood.

Mrs.Grace took me home several times until my parents got used to the idea of my moving beyond our garden. They must have told Mrs.Grace, because the next time she saw me peering through her gate she asked, “Would you like to come in and see my garden?”

I believe I made my usual monosyllabic response, “Yeth.”

Unlike most adults, she did not treat me as if I was a young tourist to be conducted round the garden. She said, “I’ll be working over here, you look around.” She seemed to understand what a little boy needed; the freedom to roam, letting the imagination soar as I crawled under bushes, hid round trees, swung from branches and adventured along magical pathways. And what a wonder to come upon the pond that was made to look like an authentic stream of flowing water. It even had real fish in it!

In the following years I made many visits to the garden and I was Mole exploring the Wild Wood. There were stoats and weasels and Badger, Rat and Toad. Above all, there was the river (pond), on which Rat and I rowed our boat.

Looking at the garden now, it seems quite small, but then, long ago, it was a vast wonderland for exploration.

Mrs.Grace became my friend, and whilst never interfering with my escapades, she was always ready to answer any of my questions about plants and trees, and wash my grazes and cuts. 

She added another dimension to my world of boyish fantasy when she read “Treasure Island” to me. The pond became the sea surrounding the island that swarmed with pirates whom I defeated in battle repeatedly.

Then there was the first time I entered her house. After playing in her garden one day, she asked me in for a glass of lemonade. The house was almost as fascinating as the garden. There was old carved furniture, pictures on the walls that looked very mysterious. There were books everywhere, mostly, as I found out later, history books. 

An unfamiliar fragrance pervaded the house. The source of this I found to be the kitchen that had herbs suspended from the ceiling. The house had dim corners that I knew must harbour ghosts, and this enabled me to enjoy those thrills of fear that children often delight in.

When I started to walk to school unaccompanied, Mrs.Grace always seemed to be near her gate to bid me “Good morning Richard.” Every birthday and Christmas, there were presents from her, and my parents used to admonish her, “You spoil him.”

I came to love her almost as much as I loved my parents, and looking back now to those days, I can see what was happening. I was the child she had never had with her husband. I helped to fill the gap of her loss. This can be an unhealthy relationship, but she never imposed herself on me. She never sought to hug or kiss me as many adults do with little children. It was I who initiated such additions to our relationship. 

I can remember the first time I kissed her on her cheek. I was thanking her for an unexpected unbirthday and unChristmas gift. I was seven at the time, and the gift was a watch, my first ever. It had belonged to her husband and years after I learned that the occasion of the gift was the anniversary of his death.

I am not sure why she gave it to me, but I think it was symbolic. After years of grieving for him, she was finally letting him go. Even today, she still loves his memory, but it is without pain.

My little kiss, inspired by the excitement of getting a watch, evoked from her the response, “Thank you, darling, that was lovely.”

It was two more firsts – the first time anyone had thanked me for a kiss, and the first time she had called me “Darling.”

I still wear the watch.

The years of my “Wind in the Willows” and pirate fantasies passed and I entered that phase in life we call “Puberty.” 

It is a difficult time in that we begin to grow physically at a fast rate, and our sexual development frustrates and bewilders us. We approach the peak of our sexual powers at a time when we are legally denied their fulfillment. 

Of course, we know what goes on between young people in hidden places and the backs of cars, but denial seems to be the order of the day. Relationships between older women and young men especially, are now receiving statistical corroboration, but still we close our eyes, or, if exposed, the lovers are taken to court.

I went through the struggle to deal with my sexual drives by masturbating. My peers were busy fucking when opportunity presented itself and while I had a few connections with girls in my high school, they never seemed satisfactory.

Another feature of that time in our lives is the struggle to disconnect from our childhood relationships with adults and the taking on of a new relationship. This is hard for both the adults, especially parents, and the young person. The old relationships die hard.

My parents, being wise people, handled this time in my life well, as it is said; they gradually “let me go.”

In my between childhood and adult state of confusion I did what many teenagers do, and withdrew from contact with adults, trying to establish a life that would go on for ever as a rebellious youth. I avoided adults as much as possible, with one exception, Mrs.Grace.

I shall now cease to write of her as Mrs.Grace because on my fifteenth birthday she said; “I think its time you called me Catherine.” 

This was an surprising honour since my parents were still the only people in the street who called her by that name. To be allowed at fifteen to use that intimate name was to change something in our relationship.

In fact, something had begun to change before the matter of her name. 

Because of the confusion I was passing through, it is hard to express the exact nature of the change. When I was with my male peers and an attractive older woman came along, there would be comments like, “I’d like to fuck that,” or “I’d like to get onto that and fuck it.”

Undoubtedly I began to develop sexual feelings for Catherine, but they did not seem to be of the same order as those expressed above. Had Catherine walked past a group of us, I would not have dreamt of saying, “I’d like to fuck that.” Had any other member of the group given forth with such an expression about her there would probably have been a fight. No one would speak of my mother goddess in that way and get away with it. Catherine was not a “That” or an “It.” She was “The Woman.”

I can now see that Catherine handled my teenage moodiness with skill and love. If I answered her greeting in a surly manner, she would simply ask, “Everything all right, Richard?” Often, if there was something on my mind, it was Catherine I would tell, and her advice was that which I was most likely to follow. 

A significant contribution Catherine made to my life at this time was concerned with my future. I have already commented on the history books that abounded in her house. I learned that she was a history graduate from university, and she had continued her interest in the subject and wrote historical articles for a number of magazines.

About age ten I began to browse through her books, and that, together with the stories from history that she told me, led eventually to my decision that I wanted to be an historian. Whilst not minimising the difficulties that lay ahead, Catherine encouraged me in this ambition.

The upshot of this decision was that when time came for me to go to university, I decided on a history honours major.

This led to my spending more and more time at Catherine’s house as she had many of the literary resources I needed and discussing history matters with her was like having an extra and pleasant tutorial. 

The love I had for Catherine from childhood had now grown into feelings of adult love for her. I make no pretence; my love had a powerful sexual content. Until entering puberty, I had not taken much interest in her appearance. Once that tangled time arrived I became ever more aware of her beauty.

She is about twenty-two years older than I am, but the years had been more than kind to her. If anything, they have enhanced her looks by softening them. Perhaps this was because once she ceased to mourn her dead husband, the austerity she had affected began to diminish.

As far as I could tell, there had been no other man in her life. As I became aware of the male-female aspects of life, I was puzzled by this lack. “Surely, I thought, men must find her very desirable,” and with that thought, feelings of anger and jealousy would arise in me. 

Catherine must have been aware of what I was feeling, and the changes taking place in our friendship. There were many times when we were supposed to be discussing some historic point, and I would get lost in lustful desire for her. My attempts to hide erections were, I am sure, not always successful. She must have noticed, yet never by word of gesture did she ever hint at knowing of my desire for her, or make any sexual advance from her side.

I had come to understand over the years of our acquaintanceship that advances or changes in our relationship were mostly left to my initiative. The only one she made that I can recall is the change from calling her Mrs.Grace to Catherine. So as I approached my twentieth year I found that I not only loved Catherine in the companionable sense, I was also in love with her in the sexual, man to woman sense.

I had no idea how to deal with these feelings. During my teen years, I had engaged in the usual sexual activities with girls, and had often to masturbate to relieve myself of Catherine inspired arousal, but none of this seemed to assuage my appetite for her. To my mind she was the “Real Thing,” all else a substitute for her.

I told myself that the age gap was too wide for us to bridge. Catherine would think me ridiculous for harbouring such thoughts about her. My peers would laugh and my parents berate me. 

A slight change in my thoughts and attitude came about when I, together with two of my male friends, met up with Catherine as she was shopping in the high street. I had never spoken to any of my friends about Catherine, much less introduced her to them. Now introductions were unavoidable. I simply said, “This is my neighbour, Mrs.Grace,” and then told her my friend’s names.

There was a brief and courteous exchange and then Catherine went on to do her shopping.

When she was out of earshot one of my friends burst out, “My God, she’s a stunner.” The other picked up the theme saying, “I could take Mr.Grace’s place in her bed any time.” I said nothing about Catherine being a widow. The first speaker now turned on me, “Have you ever tried to…you know…have it off with her?”

I was boiling with anger inside at what I saw as a slur on my angelic Catherine, but I controlled myself and simply said, “I’m sure she’s not that sort of lady,” and the matter was dropped.

This incident seemed to pull me out of a rut where my love for Catherine was concerned. My two friends had been instantly drawn to her. I am sure that if opportunity had presented itself, they would have bedded her without a thought about age differences, in fact, they would probably have been delighted to have an older woman. Just how passing their desire for Catherine might have been I did not know, but my own desire was I believe much wider than theirs.

Yes, I wanted to bed Catherine, but was that all? Admitting to myself the truth of my longing, it was certainly much more than the occasional bedding of Catherine I needed. I went so far as to admit that it was marriage I wanted.

Of course, all this contemplation of a future with Catherine took place without any idea that she would slot neatly into my designs. In any case, I doubted whether I would have the courage to approach her.

I also considered another extreme possibility: I would break off my connection with her; Not go to her house or use her books; No longer engage in conversations with her. At the end of these reflections, I felt physically sick. The thought of breaking with my beloved was horrifying. Come what may, I had to press on, even if I did not know where I was going.

It seems to be a rule of human nature that there comes a time in stressful situations when something has to give. It is as if a demon arises in the psyche that sweeps aside all the arguments, doubts and anxieties and says, “Step aside, I’m taking over here.” This “demon” seems to be part of us, yet somehow independent of us. In the actual critical situation, it is as if we are observers of its action rather than participants.

Still unresolved about what to say to Catherine, if anything at all, I had reason to go to her house to look up a passage in a book I knew she had. Catherine was as usual welcoming, exchanging with me a chaste kiss that had become our custom on my arrivals and departures.

There was something different about her on this occasion. She was dressed as I had never seen her before. My throat went dry and my legs actually felt as if they would not support me. What the garment was intended to be I did not know, perhaps a nightdress, a negligee or some reckless casual wear? 

It was black and covered very little, and what it did cover it revealed more of than it hid. It was see-through in the extreme. Not only had I never seen Catherine, I had never seen anyone in such a garment.

She was naked almost to the nipples, and these and the rest of her breasts could be clearly seen. At the other end, she was visible to the tops of her thighs, her sex organ being only just covered, and again, the pubic hair was plainly visible.

We were standing just inside her front door our bodies almost touching after our kiss. The next stage in my bewilderment was when Catherine said very softly in her contralto voice, “I thought you might come this evening.” Touching the cloth of her garment, she went on, “I got this just for you.”

I felt dizzy, and I heard a voice that did not seem to belong to me say, “O God, I want you so badly, Catherine.” The “demon” had taken over.

I heard Catherine’s voice: “I know darling. Come to bed and love me.”

It is not my intention to give any explicit details of that night with Catherine. What happened has always been somehow sacred to me. It was an act of love in all its purity in which we bonded with each other, fulfilling what we had both long known; we belonged together. It was also a promise of things to come.




Mrs. Grace & I



In that night, I learned in a decisive way the difference between fucking and lovemaking. In the morning, we knew that we had established a strong union.

I had been away from home all night and I felt guilty at the anxiety I must have given my parents. I did not want to leave Catherine, but felt I must put my parents minds at rest. I hastened home, only to be given another shock.

My father was sitting in the kitchen, and looking up as I walked in he said, “About bloody time too.”

I thought he was referring to my all night out, but he went on, “You made the poor woman wait long enough.” 

Mother came in and said her piece. “You’ve come to your senses then? I should think so too. If ever two people were made for each other its you and Catherine, and she’s been so patient.”

I finally found my voice: “You mean you both knew this was going to happen?” “Of course we have,” mother snapped. “Who do you think selected that black thing she was wearing last night? You don’t think Catherine would have chosen it, do you? I went shopping with her and persuaded her to get it.”

“It was my idea,” laughed father. “That’s how your mother caught me.”

“Do you mean that you two and Catherine have been plotting this all along?”

“Course we have,” said mother. “We didn’t want our son marrying any old girl. We wanted the best for you, and if you ask her to marry you, you’ll have the best. Now start getting your things out of here and into Catherine’s place. 

I did not start “moving my things” immediately. I rushed back to Catherine, burst in through the door, grabbed her and said, “Will you marry me?”

She paused for a moment and my stomach turned over; “She’s going to say ‘No’”.

I was wrong. She said quietly, “Move in with me, darling, and if in twelve months time you ask me to marry you again, I shall say ‘Yes.’”

“But…but why not say ‘yes’ now?” I protested.

“For all the reasons you have held back from me for so long,” she replied. “In twelve months you will have answers to the questions those reasons give rise to. There is one other thing you should think about. I shall not be able to give you babies. Now come along, let’s start moving your things.”

Mother, father, Catherine and I spent the morning moving my goods into my new habitat.

Two things did not turn out as Catherine had stated them. First, and much to her surprise, she became pregnant. I think our first night together fixed that. 

Second, in the light of her pregnancy and because I was so persistent, we married in three months. 

As I write it is now three years since we married, and now within our bond of love we have our little Alicia as well.



Mrs. Grace and Me



"Alas! That all we loved in him should be, /But for our grief, as if it had not been, /And grief itself be mortal."

(Percy Bysshe Shelley)

To the people of Rosella Grove Mrs. Grace was something of an enigma. She lived alone yet she wore wedding and engagement rings and used the title "Misses."

The window peepers of the Grove kept her under surveillance in the hope of some scandal, like a man or men visiting Mrs. Grace. No such visitors were ever seen apart from people making deliveries or optimistic Jehovah Witnesses. 

What was factually known about her was very slim; she worked at the university in the classics department. This was known because Arthur Wainright who lived in the Grove was studying at the university and he'd seen her there. He added, "She's got a PhD and they say she's a real brain." 

She shopped at the super-market late every Wednesday afternoon; she went jogging every morning at 7-30 a.m., and when meeting people she was polite but a little remote. 

At 1 p.m. every Sunday afternoon she was seen to drive her car out of the Grove, to return around 5 p.m. This gave rise to the rumour that she went to see a lover. 

Her house, or more accurately cottage since it was called "Rosella Cottage," was an oddity in the Grove. It was of mid-nineteenth century vintage and had been built by a market gardener. In the nineteen sixties the developers moved in and put up what they described as "Executive Residences," one of which was eventually occupied by me and my parents. Mrs. Grace's place, "Rosella Cottage," was the only evidence that the district had once been all market gardens.

Whoever the owner of the cottage was when the area was "developed," must have frustrated the developers by refusing to sell the place that stood on about half an acre of valuable land.

Mrs. Grace, so I learned, had moved into the cottage in the late nineteen eighties and, as the locals said, "She's done a good job on the garden."

She must have been very young when she moved in, because when I and my parents moved into the "executive" house next door in 1993 she appeared to be in her late twenties.

I shall return to Mrs. Grace and her appearance, but it will help the reader if I give some background about myself and my circumstances, because it is associated with how I first met her and how our relationship developed.

* * * * * * * *

I was fifteen when we moved into the Grove. My father, Edward Haines, was a competent architect but no more than competent. He was not destined for great things. My mother, Valerie, was also competent in her chosen profession, a librarian, but was never likely to rise to the dizzy heights of State Librarian. The local library was her portion in life. 

On the other hand, I Trent was, according to my parents, destined for great things. Unfortunately their view of my future did not accord with mine, and this I'd better explain.

When I was six years old I fell passionately in love with curly dark haired Judy, a girl in my class at school. I never told her of my love, in fact I was an incredibly shy child and never spoke to her at all; I simply adored her from afar.

That part of my life came to an end the following year when Judy was no longer in my class – she was not even in the same school because her parents had moved away from the district. Nevertheless I always associate Judy with the establishing of my zeal for history.

It came about because in that year of my Judy adoration our rather pretty teacher, Miss Hunt, drew on the chalk board a picture of boats on the River Nile in the time of ancient Egypt. She was a damned good drawer and I've often wondered since why she wasn't an artist instead of a teacher. The point is, however, that from that moment on I was hooked and have remained hooked ever since on things historical.

Oddly, ever since I have associated my infatuation for Judy with my zeal for history.

At first my parents were surprised at my sudden interest in things ancient, and mother, at my request, brought home books from her library about, as I put it, "Those old things." As birthdays and Christmases approached my request was always for history books.

All went well until I entered high school, and that was when parental attitudes changed. 

Since in their view I was to become an engineer, architect, physicist, doctor, or at worst a dentist or lawyer, I was told "It's about time you stopped reading all that rubbish, it'll get you nowhere." 

Like most teenagers I only listened to parental advice and admonitions so that I knew what the opposite was, and did it. I think beneath my incredible shyness was a very determined streak that only emerged in times of adversity.

This determination is perhaps illustrated by recounting my confrontation with Gorilla Thoms.

* * * * * * * * 

The principal of our high school was Colonel Bransden, known to us boys as, "Old Brandyballs," one year, no doubt under the impression that he was still with his regiment, he decreed that all we boys should learn to box. 

Learning usually implies teaching. If that is so our teaching in the pugilistic art was sparse indeed. It consisted of us being marched to the gym, our names being written on pieces of paper, and the teacher drawing them out from a bowl in pairs. This determined who we would have to fight with.

I naturally hesitate to say I was scared, but I had never had a desire to batter anyone or to be battered. When I saw that I was drawn to fight with Gorilla Thoms I had a nasty sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

Gorilla was the biggest, strongest and stupidest boy in our class, plus he was the class bully. I had always managed to steer clear of him, but he was popular with most of the other boys in the sense that they saw it was best to keep on the right side of Gorilla.

Being shy, and therefore among the least popular boys in my class, there was much amusement when it was revealed I was paired off with Gorilla. All, including myself, were anticipating the battering I was about to get.

Equipped with boxing trunks and gloves we stood in the middle of the gym and were instructed to begin.

I was the same height as Gorilla but much slimmer; he was built like an army tank. I had one advantage over him; my sport was running, and that meant I could run away from him faster than he could catch up with me. Eventually however, he got me cornered.

The onlookers were cheering Gorilla, "Give it to him Gorilla," "Go on, give him one." 

He did give me one – a stinging blow that because I managed to move slightly landed on my shoulder. 

I've heard of people seeing red, and I suppose that's what happened to me, or at least I got fed up with backing away. Gorilla was distracted by the cheers of his supporters and was grinning at them. I suddenly sprang on him and started to hit him anywhere I could reach. 

I saw the look of amazement on Gorilla's face and he momentarily lost whatever concentration he'd had. I landed a punch on his eye and Gorilla snorting with fury swung a punch at me that if it had landed would have sent me to the other end of the gym. 

Luckily it missed so I hit him again, this time on the nose. To my horror blood started to run out of his nostrils. For a moment Gorilla didn't seem to notice this, and took another swing at me that once again missed. Then he noticed the blood and started to yell, "Sir...sir...'es broke me dose."

Gorilla was taken away to have his "dose" fixed and not long after that event the boxing lessons were cancelled. I never learned the full details, but apparently Gorilla's parents threatened to sue the education authorities, the school, the principal, the teachers and my parents because I'd broken their son's dose (I mean nose). They also suggested that I should be sent to a sort of kid's detention centre because I was a menace to society 

Thus ended my one venture into the art of pugilism.

* * * * * * * *

My victory over Gorilla did not exactly add to my popularity, but thereafter I was treated with some caution. The positive aspect was that I gained in self confidence, and this led to my first foray into experimentation with females.

Word of my bout with Gorilla got around the school and some of the girls were very impressed. I do not wish to boast, but I had the choice of several willing girls, but I'm afraid I chose badly, no doubt because that choice was the easiest.

Mavis Bird was my first choice. She was in fact the first choice of many of my male peers, and so I had to take my turn in her hectic schedule. 

Here I must explain the arrangements for sexual contact among us students. 

About two minutes walk from the school was the remnant of what had once been an extensive forest. All that now remained was a small patch of woodland with dense undergrowth; its official name was "The Copse." To we high school students it was "Bonking Wood."

During the lunch recess and after school students, usually in pairs (mostly male and female but not necessarily so), could be seen making their way to Bonking Wood. Anyone passing the wood on foot could have heard groans, moans and squeals emanating from the undergrowth. 

It was thither that I went with Mavis to learn yet another art; that associated with the female body. 

The problem with Mavis was that she would not go, as she put it, "All the way." She was, she said "Saving that for Mr. Right."

Deep kissing, breast fondling, nipple sucking and genital licking were permitted; the latter I did not particularly enjoy but Mavis insisted because as she said, "It's only fair."

The grand finale was for her to suck my penis until she felt I was about to come, and then she'd stop sucking and finish me off with her hand.

Those who have experienced this arrangement will know of the frustration it engenders, and I'm afraid I disgraced myself with Mavis when on one occasion, just as I was about to come, I put my hands behind her head and made her take my sperm into her mouth.

When I released her she screamed at me somewhat thickly, "You filthy beast, I'll never let you near me again." Fortunately she kept her word and I was permanently off her hectic schedule.

Mr. Right turned out to be Spotty Drake. The appellation "Spotty" derived from the suppurating pustules that adorned his face. He was in the final year of high school and head prefect. He made Mavis pregnant and under pressure from her parents he married her. I believe he has made her pregnant four times since then and blames her for ruining his life.

* * * * * * * *

My next visits to Bonking Wood were in company with Louise Probert. She in her way was as frustrating as Mavis.

True she went "all the way," but there was no foreplay. Any attempt on my part to deep kiss, breast fondle, etc. received the reproach, "Stop the mucking about and get on with the fucking or we'll be late back to school," or, "Hurry up, my mother will be wondering what I'm doing."

Louise served my youthful purpose for some time and at least I wasn't sharing her with a dozen other guys. 

Things took an unpleasant turn when one day Louise told me she was pregnant. She said that we might as well go on fucking because I couldn't make her more pregnant than she already was, but for me the charm had suddenly gone out of the relationship. 

It was further de-charmed when she pointed out that after the baby was born she would go on the pill until we got married, and then I could give her more babies, because after all, we were made for each other.

All this led to some sleepless nights, and when I did sleep, I had nightmares about being married to Louise. 

It ended well – more or less – when Louise told me it had been a false alarm, but I wasn't to feel disappointed because there would always be a next time.

I made sure there was no "next time" when, as delicately as I could, I ended the relationship.

Louise did not take this at all well and accused me of having taken advantage of her. When this did not get the sought after response from me she went on to say that she would charge me with rape.

Fortunately she did not carry out her threat, and the following week I saw her heading for Bonking Wood with Gorilla.

If you are wondering what the school staff thought about all this Bonking Wood sexual activity; without being privy to their thoughts, I suspect that they were happy to have afternoon classes of peaceful hormones. After all, it did make for easier class discipline, if not concentration.

My narrow escapes with Mavis and Louise led to me making the decision that I would in future lead the celibate life. If there was to be any future copulating, then it would be with "Miss Right."

With that explanatory digression I can now return to Mrs. Grace.

* * * * * * * * 

We had lived for a couple of years in Rosella Grove and I'd had little do with Mrs. Grace. Like her I always took an early morning jog along the river bank and frequently met her. We did no more than bid each other good morning.

I was vaguely aware of her as a reasonably attractive woman but no more than that, and so, if I now give a fuller description of her it must be understood that it derives from my later experience of her. 

There was a quality of intangibility about her. She was of medium height, say about five feet five or six. Contrasting strongly with her dark complexion, which was rather like a permanent tan, she had golden blonde hair which she wore in a single plait or, occasionally set free to hang like a curtain on either side of her face and spilled over her shoulders. The golden hair and dark complexion made an interesting and eye-catching combination.

Her features were small and regular, a straight little nose and with what people call, "a generous mouth," set in an oval face. 

Her most striking feature was her eyes, an unusual grey in colour, and when turned to gaze at you, rather disturbing.

For jogging she wore tight shorts and what I thought looked like a man's singlet, but which my mother insisted was a camisole. Since while jogging she wore no bras I could see that her breasts as they jiggled up and down. Not overly large, they were about the size of half grapefruits with rather sweet looking nipples. Her legs were elegantly long and slim. 

To my youthful eyes she was neither ugly nor beautiful, but there was a quality about her that could not be denied or ignored and drew your eyes to her again and again.

To my ears she had a singularly lovely voice; soft and clear like a small silver bell.

Truth to tell I did have the occasional enjoyable fantasy about her, but I was naïve enough to believe that with what was probably a thirteen year age gap between us nothing sexual could ever eventuate even if I'd had the courage to make an approach; and besides, there was my vow of celibacy only to be broken when Miss Right arrived.

My closer acquaintance with Mrs. Grace came about through our jogging. One morning as I jogged I came upon Mrs. Grace sitting beside the path nursing her ankle.

The path was bitumen but near where she sat the edge of the bitumen had crumbled away and on putting her foot on the non-existent bitumen Mrs. Grace had twisted her ankle badly.

I asked if I could help her and she said that she didn't think she could put any weight on the injured ankle.

Remembering some rudimentary first aid I took my top off and dipped it in the river, and then wrapped it round the ankle.

I said I would help her back to her place and with her leaning heavily on my shoulder we slowly made our way back along the path. The closer we got to her cottage the more heavily she leaned until her body was pressed to mine. Since my torso was bare this pressure proved to be rather seductive, and in addition she had a delightful fragrance.

My vow of celibacy did not mean I was no longer susceptible to females, and by the time we reached the cottage that susceptibility was making itself very evident. 

I started to wonder if the stories Tubby Weekes told about older women and younger men were true. But then, the way Tubby told it, the women were all "Dirty old sluts who are gasping for it." Somehow Mrs. Grace didn't seem to fit that description. 

Having got her as far as her front door I thought that would be the end of the matter, but still clinging to me she said, "Would you mind helping me in and making a cup of tea?"

I helped her in and found myself before the gates of paradise. The mildly salacious thoughts I'd been having about Mrs. Grace fled. Every available wall was lined with bookshelves crammed with books. At a glance I could see that many of the books were on the subject of my heart, history.

I settled Mrs. Grace into an armchair and raised the injured ankle on an ottoman.

Under instruction from Mrs. Grace I found some towels and wetting them began to apply them to the ankle that was now swollen and discoloured. Following further instructions I made the tea and sat down opposite her.

There had been no time for social niceties up to that point, but now Mrs. Grace said, "Your name is Trent, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Your mother has talked about you to me. I suppose we should have got to know each other before this."

I didn't respond directly to that but said, "You've got a lot of history books."

"Have I?" she said, "yes, I suppose I have; I just haven't noticed, I buy what I need and...are you interested in history?"

I then talked enthusiastically about books and history while occasionally replacing the towels.

Mrs. Grace said that it was unusual for a young man to be so interested in the subject, and that most of her students only did classical studies as a sort of filler subject.

I displayed my ignorance by asking if classical studies involved history and received a mini-lecture on ancient literature.

Mrs. Grace said that I could borrow any of her books I was interested in and that was indeed to pass through the gates of paradise.

* * * * * * * *

Mrs. Grace having given me virtual carte blanche where her library was concerned, she seemed to take an ongoing interest in me. The fanciful image I had of her was of someone who, dying of thirst in the desert suddenly comes upon an oasis. 

This was confirmed when one day she told me she got so sick of students with their lack on any real enthusiasm for her subject. And so it seemed that there was a fair exchange; she loaned me her books and I provided her with an enthusiastic learner.

I not only became a regular visitor to her house, but almost a daily one. I had never met a woman like Mrs. Grace before; intelligent, well educated, knowing her subject thoroughly and wanting to give in the intellectual sense. I was always welcome even when she was working, just as long as I limited myself to browsing her library for the next book I would borrow.

I suppose my experience with girls and women was somewhat limited at that time in my life. My sexual adventures with Mavis and Louise had been just that, sexual. Beyond that they had nothing to talk about apart from raving about the latest pop star. The other girls I knew at high school followed the same pattern. They might be good to look at, or not, but from my perspective they had nothing to talk about worth listening to.

As for older women, there was my mother, but once I'd started high school she, like my father, had repeatedly discouraged me from pursuing that which interested and absorbed me most. 

Then there were the other women in the Grove, none of whom interested me particularly, except perhaps Mrs. Patterson who was blonde, big breasted and buxom of figure. 

I'd had a few fantasies about her, but her husband was built somewhat like Gorilla Thoms, but I think he was more intelligent than Gorilla and, so I was told, he was extremely watchful where his wife's communication with other men was concerned. If there was ever a next time for fisticuffs I might not be as lucky as I'd been with Gorilla. In any case I wouldn't have had the slightest idea how to approach Mrs. Patterson to ask her to help me fulfill my fantasies. 




Mrs. Grace and Me



If you think that I was somewhat arrogant about my own intellect in relation to that of the girls and women I knew, you'd be right. But in youth most of us think we know the answers to all possible questions, and if everybody did what we told them the world would be put to rights. It's only later in life you discover you don't have all the answers, and in fact you're no longer even sure what the questions are.

That aside, Mrs. Grace's interest in me took on a subtle form of guidance. My reading over the years had been somewhat serendipity. Gradually she led me to more structured reading and I virtually became not only her friend, but her private student; so much so that by the end of the first year of our growing friendship she was teaching me Greek and Latin which, she said, would enable me to read some ancient texts in their original language.

By that time I was heading for my final year at high school, and it was then that the conflict at home heated up. I was doing poorly in most of the subjects that would lead to my fulfilling my parent's ambitions for me, but with history and geography in particular I was doing extremely well.

My relationship with Mrs. Grace came in for much of the blame, but they did not go as far as trying to forbid me to visit her. It wouldn't have worked anyway because my life had become so intertwined with hers. If her library was paradise, she was the angel in paradise.

I had spoken with Mrs. Grace about the conflict over my future, and she had said nothing very much at the time, except to say that it was obvious where my future lay. 

As I later discovered she at some time when I was not present spoke to my parents about me. What exactly was said I don't know, but whatever it was, my parents, if somewhat grudgingly, finally agreed to my taking university subjects in line with my own wishes. 

* * * * * * * *

On the one hand it could be said that I'd developed a close relationship with Mrs. Grace. We were frequently in each other's company and we shared interests; she even suggested I stop calling her "Mrs. Grace," and called her Asha. On the other hand I knew virtually nothing about her more intimate personal life.

Apart from me she seemed to have no other acquaintances or friends who called on her, yet she must have had some association with her university colleagues. 

There was one time in the week when I couldn't visit her, and that was when she went off on her Sunday afternoon jaunts. As I've already indicated, if Asha was not the most beautiful woman in the world – whatever that may mean – she was certainly one who drew your attention; and so along with other residents in the Grove I suspected that she went to a lover. Little did I suspect how close I and the Grove residents were to the truth, although that truth turned out very differently from our salacious imaginings. 

That she was married, or had been, I was certain. This knowledge came from the one photograph she had on display. It stood on her desk in a silver frame, and it was obviously not a professionally posed picture but a snap shot that had been enlarged.

Two lines of soldiers stood facing each other with swords raised to form an arch. Beneath the arch was a young man, handsome in his army officer's uniform, and his bride who was unmistakably Asha. 

Since Asha chose not to talk about her private life, I felt I could not ask her, but I was extremely curious. Where was her husband; where they separated? Divorced? Was he dead?

* * * * * * * *

My high school career came to an end. This coincided, more or less, with my eighteenth birthday. A modest party was held to celebrate both events, and the guests, mainly uncles, aunts, grandparents and some family friends, including Asha, came bearing gifts.

Asha's gift to me was a beautifully bound copy of Homer's "Odyssey" in Greek.

There was a long break before I was to begin university, and during that time, between preparing her lectures for the next academic year, Asha continued to tutor me. 

This preparation included going with her to performances of Sophocles' Oedipus Rex, and Oedipus at Colonus (in English). 

I shall not deny that the more time I spent with Asha the more sexually attracted I became. I can remember the first time this attraction was heightened. 

Asha's cottage had become almost a second home to me, and it had long been my habit, instead of ringing her front door bell, to go round the back of the cottage and simply walk inside. On the afternoon in question I had gone round the back of the cottage and had been brought to a halt by the sight of Asha lying on a banana lounge under an apricot tree. 

There was a book lying beside the lounge together with a pencil. She had a habit of making margin notes in her books. Asha had obviously dozed off in the warmth of the afternoon. She was wearing what I can only describe as a longer version of the singlet (or camisole) she wore when out jogging. 

The singlet had ridden up her thighs and I could see she was naked under the garment because there was a hint of blonde pubic hair visible. The neckline of the singlet was lower than the ones she wore for jogging, and along with the usual vision of her breasts there was extensive cleavage on display. 

What I felt as I stood gazing at her bore no resemblance to what I had felt with Mavis and Louise or my fantasies about Mrs. Patterson. It passed through the sexual to something deeper; a yearning for a fulfillment I had never experienced before. I wanted to know her – yes, in the sexual sense – but more, much more than that. 

The emotions were complex, but I suppose they can be summed up by saying that I knew at that moment I loved her deeply. 

As that realisation began to dawn on me Asha stirred and looked as if she was about to wake up. Not wanting to be caught staring at her I hurried into the cottage and started to browse blindly through the books, my mind too full of the newly experienced emotions to be able to take in what I was looking at.

I had, as it were, crossed a frontier in my relationship with Asha, but at that time I thought it a hopeless crossing because as far as I knew Asha had her Sunday afternoon lover, and she had never shown any interest in me beyond a desire to teach and guide me. In any case there was the age difference, and along with that, I still wondered what had become of the handsome army officer she had married. 

As I saw it Asha and I could never be more than friends; very good friends perhaps, but nothing more than that.

When I began attending university I was of course majoring in Asha's department, Classical Studies, and the History Department. Being a first year fledgling I did not attend Asha's lectures or tutorials since she dealt only with the second and third year students. However, I continued to get private coaching from her and I still borrowed her books.

Being a first year student and therefore all knowing, what I have called "coaching" was more inclined to become argument as I disputed points of interpretation with her. That was not a wise move if I hoped to win the argument since in her subject she was a rough equivalent of an intellectual Gorilla Thoms, although I must say she struck her blows very gently.

I sometimes wondered if she knew how I felt about her, but if she did she gave no sign. She was always warm, friendly and encouraging, but there was that little distance she kept between us.

* * * * * * * *

It was during my second year at university that what I always think of as "The Great Revelation" occurred. The marriage mystery was finally exposed, but in what for Asha were tragic circumstances.

It was on a Friday evening and I went to her place to borrow a book on Greek syntax. By that time Asha's place had almost become a second home for me and so as usual I simply walked into the cottage via the backdoor, and it was to find Asha sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee and the wedding photograph before her on the table; she was weeping.

I'd had little experience of weeping females – or weeping anybody for that matter. I wanted to say something, and so ineptly I asked a question to which the answer was obvious.

"Is there something wrong?"

She looked up at me but it was as if she wasn't seeing me and she said, "He's dead."

"Who...who's dead?" I asked.

"David."

I knew of no David in her life, but then I knew very little of anyone in her life. I thought it might be her putative Sunday lover, and so I asked cautiously, "Er...who is David?"

"My husband."

"You're...you're husband?" I stuttered.

She rose slowly and said, "Hold me Trent...hold me...I need someone to hold me..."

I went to her and put my arms round her, holding her close. She seemed to want to bury herself in me as she said in a muffled voice, "It's been so long, so long for him...oh...oh Trent..."

"What happened?" I asked her softly.

"Not now Trent...not now...later...soon I'll tell you...I've never told anyone...but not now..."

I don't think she fainted but I felt her body sag against me and I picked her up in my arms and carried her to the couch in the lounge. There I sat beside her and held her hand. Her eyes were open but it was as if they were seeing nothing; she was far away seeing – what? A wedding day with soldiers making an arch with their swords; a handsome new husband; their love making; what was she seeing, what was she feeling? 

We stayed like that for a long time until finally she seemed to become aware of things around her. She tried a pallid smile and said, "I'm sorry Trent, you are just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I...I...I'm glad I am here...here for you Asha."

"But you didn't know David, so why should you..."

"I know you Asha, and that's enough."

She touched my cheek with her hand and said, "Yes...yes...I suppose it is."

I wondered where this David had been all those years, why had he never appeared as part of her life.

She broke into my thoughts saying, "He was a good man and we loved each other very much, and then his life was destroyed."

I wanted to question her but I had enough sense to see that it was better to let her talk when she was ready, and so I sat on with her, still holding her hand.

After a while and in a very low voice she said, "He was destroyed trying to make it safe for others."

Puzzled I risked a question.

"What was he doing?"

"Clearing mines from a war zone."

"What?" I asked, taken aback by her reply.

"Clearing mines," she repeated. "There had been a request from that country for help in clearing mines and David was with the Engineers and a specialist in mine clearance."

She began to sob again and said, "He trod on one."

"And it killed him?"

"No...no...not then only now."

"I don't understand," I said.

"He...he lost both his legs, and he only has...had the stump of one arm left, and he was blind in one eye. They saved him but...but...he couldn't come home...couldn't come back to me. He...he was just a torso and a head really."

"Where has he been?" I asked, horrified at the vision of someone who was simply a body without limbs.

"He has been in" (she named a veterans hospital that I knew cared for the servicemen and women who had been completely broken physically or mentally in wars).

"Was he....did he still...?" I didn't know how to ask it but she seemed to know what I wanted to ask.

"Yes, he still had his mental faculties, and that was the terrible thing."

"Terrible?"

"Yes, he could remember how he had been - how we had been and he could still feel...feel what he used to feel."

"You mean how he felt about you?"

"Yes, it was still there and he felt...felt as men feel but could do nothing about it. When I visited him I tried to help him."

I suddenly realised and said, "That's where you go on Sunday afternoons?"

"Yes, to see him...to help him."

"To help him?"

She looked at me for a moment as if wondering if she should go on. Deciding she continued, "You see he still had his genitals. He often said it was about the only thing he had left that worked properly and so I...I...I helped him."

She didn't need to go on. I had a vision of her sitting across this limbless man, his penis in her vagina as she met his sexual needs.

There was a long pause as she seemed to go off somewhere in her mind again. When she broke the silence it startled me.

"He wanted to die; he told me not to visit him...to divorce him and get another man, but...but..."For better, for worse, in sickness and in health," she quoted quietly.

"How strange it is," I thought, "that these days when people break up their marriages for the most selfish and even trivial reasons, this woman who had very good reasons for seeking a divorce, would not do so for the sake of marriage vows, or was it more than that; she had loved him."

She continued, "This past couple of months I could see the changes in him. He couldn't...couldn't do it with me any more and he seemed to be fading away. I think he was willing himself to die. I spoke to some of the hospital staff and they said it often happened like that and no amount of medical or psychiatric help made any difference; they just want to die, and they do."

She fell silent again, and the silence seemed to hang heavily in the room. Then she asked a question that took me by surprise.

"Was I selfish Trent?"

My thought was, "How in hell could she have been selfish? She had stayed married to David; she has visited him regularly; she had even helped him sexually; how did that qualify as selfishness."

I asked, "How were you selfish, Asha?"

"I didn't want him to die."

"But...but of course you didn't want him to die, none of us want the people we love to die."

"No Trent, we sometimes need to love them enough to let them die. Do you know they told me at the hospital to stop visiting David. They said...said it was my visits that were stopping him from dying." 

"But you didn't stop."

"No; was that because I didn't love him enough?"

I must admit that I was out of my depth. It seemed to me she had given all that love could give and I couldn't comprehend how she believed she hadn't loved him enough.

Not knowing what else to say I said, "Perhaps you loved him too much."

She made no response to this. It had grown dark but no move was made to turn the light on. It was as if the darkness matched the grief that Asha was feeling and which I shared on her behalf. 

So many words – so many useless clichés that people use on such occasions came into my mind and were discarded. Such grief as hers demanded silence. The healing of the wound was distant.

I sat with my arm round her. We sat on in silence, and in that stillness I came to know for certain how much I loved this woman – loved her for the love she had given when many would have turned away in revulsion – had given and given until this time when there was no more need to give.

Asha stirred slightly and said, "I think I'd like to be alone now Trent but would you visit me tomorrow, I'd like your company again."

I understood that she had so many things to work through in her mind and so I rose to leave. 

"Trent," she asked faintly, "would you kiss me?"

I bent to give her a virtuous kiss on the cheek or forehead, but she moved so that our lips met. They were soft, warm and salt with her tears, and putting her arms round my neck she held me to her for a few seconds and then releasing me she said, "Thank you, Trent."

I left her still sitting in the dark as I went home to tell my parents what had occurred.

* * * * * * * *

That night I had nightmares that involved Asha having sexual intercourse with dead bodies. Several times I awoke sweating and relieved that it had only been dream, but on going back to sleep the dream was repeated.

In the morning I wondered how it had been for Asha. My first instinct was to go and see her but my parents got in ahead of me and so I waited until their return. They were both very sympathetic but I don't think they really understood how things had been for Asha.

Outside Asha's place stood a grey car; the funeral director had arrived. They were in her study making the funeral arrangements and Asha seemed relieved to see me. Normally a very capable woman she now appeared lost and confused.

In soothing tones the director was trying to sell her the most expensive funeral his organisation provided. "We all want the best for our loved ones and I'm sure you want the best," etc.

Asha looked dreadful, as if she hadn't slept all night, which was probably the case. She seemed unable to take in what the director was saying, and she looked at me helplessly.

I'd had no experience with funerals and their directors, but I said mildly, "Perhaps Mrs. Grace can visit your establishment and we can decide then what's best to do."

Asha said, "Yes...yes...Monday morning."

The director looked somewhat huffy but beyond that he made no objection, and so it was left at that. He departed knowing that at least he'd hooked a client.

After he'd gone I sat down and Asha said, "Thanks for rescuing me Trent. I didn't really know what to do. I know I should be able to..."

"Well let's work it out," I said. "Did David ever say he wanted to be buried or cremated?"

From that moment on I seemed to become embroiled in all the business and administrivia that seems to go with death and funerals. 

A few people, mainly from her department at the university, came to offer their condolences, and since most of them knew me by sight they must have wondered what a second year student was doing organising things. I wasn't sure why my self, but Asha seemed happy to leave me to it.

Wednesday was the day of the funeral. Asha's lectures and tutorials had been cancelled for the week and I didn't attend lectures, spending most of my time with Asha, or if not with her, racing off on some business on her behalf.

David's body was to be cremated, and the service was held in the crematorium chapel. I found myself sitting next to her in the front pew. Behind us sat perhaps twenty to twenty five people, including my parents, some university people and a representative from Veterans Affairs.

Not having known David I didn't expect to be deeply moved by the service; I was there for Asha. It was not until right at the end of the service I became involved in a meaningful way. 

It was at the end of the service and we were asked to sing, "The day you gave us Lord is ended." I couldn't claim to be a regular church attendee but I knew that hymn as an evening hymn, not a funeral hymn. Now I saw new meaning, perhaps a meaning the writer did not intend, but for me it was there.

David's day had ended, ended like the lives of so many young men and women, and like David so many who would carry the scars, physical and psychological, of their war experiences. In a sense David had ended his own day, no longer wanting to live the life of a limbless body.

"So be it Lord." I was not given easily to tears, but they came then. 

As the service ended and the coffin passed through the curtains to its fiery end I glanced at Asha. She had not cried since I had come upon her in the kitchen, but now the tears were streaming down her cheeks. She took my arm and we went to what was called "The Annex," where tea and coffee were served. 

I brought Asha a cup of tea and then stood back as people came to her mumbling their condolences.

As I stood looking at her I had a sense of wonder that she had, as people say, "Stood by her man" even to the end. Not only had she stood by him, but had continued to be his lover.

I thought then, and still think, that David willed himself to die as much for Asha's sake as his own. He had wanted to free her from the bondage of his ruined body and life; wanted to free her to begin life with another man.




Mrs. Grace and Me



Perhaps I had been near the truth when I told her she had loved him too much, and it might be added, he had loved her too much.

* * * * * * * *

As might be expected with a psychologically healthy person Asha's grief over David's death gradually diminished. Having been made privy to some of the personal details of her life I expected our relationship to become closer, but if anything I felt it became a little more distant. 

There is of course the tendency for people who have shared intimate details of their lives in times of stress, to try and physically avoid the person with whom they had shared, but Asha did not avoid me in that sense. 

Her library and scholarly help were still available to me and I continued to have free access to her cottage, but she seemed bent on keeping a little physical and emotional distance between us.

As the time of my undergraduate studies drew to a close, Asha, anticipating that I would pass with first class honours in her subject, started to talk about my going on to study for my PhD. 

I was not sure about this, my own inclination being to undertake studies in education with a view to qualifying as a teacher. 

I had maintained my vow of celibacy in part because my energies had been absorbed by my studies, and in part because "Miss Right" had not yet appeared. It was not the case that I had become a sexual neuter, and I had to engage in frequent self-relief in order to preserve my celibacy.

There was a further problem that I recognised at the time. Asha had become the model for Miss Right. I know that for many young men the model of a wife or partner is often their mother, but in my case it was Asha.

As she, and by then my parents, had anticipated, I passed with first class honours. There was a celebration but not of the sort that had taken place on my graduation from high school. At my request it was a quiet affair. I wanted to celebrate with the people who had been most significant in my life; my now supportive parents and Asha.

We went to a rather exclusive restaurant and I'm afraid I came close to disgracing myself. I had never been much of a drinker of alcohol, but on this occasion I cut loose with the red wine.

I've heard it said that a little alcohol can elicit a lot of truth, and on this occasion a large amount of alcohol elicited a considerable amount of truth. 

Since things got a bit blurry I cannot be sure at what stage in the evening I said what I no doubt should have said long before. In front of my parents and within the hearing of those at nearby tables I said, "Asha, I love you."

If those were not the exact words, and if they did not come out quite as neatly as that, I know I must have made my meaning clear because of what followed later.

Poor Asha, she must have felt horribly embarrassed, and I don't think my parents would have felt too comfortable. 

I know I went on to say things in a similar vein and can recall being helped out to the car, being driven home and somehow ending up in bed. I must have ended up in bed because that's where I was when I woke up the next morning.

My mouth felt like a sandpit; my head ached, and I had a somewhat jaundiced view of life in general. I had only the vaguest memory of my declaration of love. That was soon remedied by my mother when, after showering I made my way belatedly to the kitchen for a breakfast that I couldn't eat anyway.

Mother's opening salvo was straight to the point.

"That was a terrible thing you did to Asha last night."

"What?" I asked mendaciously, pretending I didn't know what she was talking about. 

"In front of all those people, and at the top of your voice," mother said, not answering my question. "After all she's done for you over the years, to humiliate her like that in public."

"What did I do....what did I say..." I asked, still playing the silly game. 

"You made her cry, you know. How could you...such a lovely woman...how could you Trent?"

"I'm...I'm sorry," I stuttered, my headache now throbbing like the beating of a pile driver."

"Ah!" mother exclaimed, "So you do know what I'm talking about. Well your father and I have already apologised to her and you'd better do the same – if she'll have anything to do with you."

"But mum..." I started to say, but she went on, "I've got to get to work and if you're thinking of going to see Asha then don't waste your time because like most of us she's got her work to go to. By the look of you you'd better take a couple of aspirin and go back to bed. I'll leave the washing up and vacuuming for you to do when you come-to properly; disgraceful Trent."

With that she stomped out leaving me trying to work out how what I'd said could have been so devastating, which only goes to show that I still hadn't grasped exactly what I'd said.

I took mother's advice and swallowed a couple of aspirin and went back to bed vowing I would never touch alcohol again – a vow I did not keep. 

* * * * * * * *

I slept and woke about four hours later, this time with a clearer memory of my love declaration. The declaration had been true, but the occasion for making it and the drunken state I had been in, made it a singularly blundering attempt at a declaration of love.

I set about the jobs mother had left me, all the time wondering how I could face Asha. That of course was to assume that she would see me after such a public exhibition on my part.

The painful thing was it was true that I loved her, and it had been true for a long time, but it had taken over-indulgence in red wine to give me the courage to say it. That realisation only added to my feelings of self-disgust.

Then came the terrible thought that Asha might not want to have anything more to do with me. She had loomed so large in my life for so long I found it hard to imagine life without her. Twenty four hours ago I had been on top of the world; there had been a bright future ahead of me, but now I saw only a dark Asha-less future.

Once the domestic chores were done I had nothing in particular to do. I wandered round picking up books and putting them down again. One of the books I picked up belonged to Asha, and in the vain hope that she would be at home I screwed up my courage, and taking the book went to apologise. 

I couldn't bring myself to use the backdoor and simply walk in. I knocked on the front door instead. Of course, as mother had said, Asha wasn't home.

Back in our house I sat at the front window watching for Asha's car to enter her drive, and all the while composing the speech of apology I would make to her. 

In the late afternoon mother arrived home followed soon after by father. I seemed to have been sent to Coventry because beyond a gruff greeting they did not speak to me. 

It was only after the evening meal that my mother opened fire, and in a way that took me in the flank.

"Trent, if you love Asha then tell her so when you're sober."

I started to say, "But mum I can't..." when my father let go a broadside.

"Trent," he said sharply, "do you think your mother and I don't know what's been going on between you and Asha."

His way of putting it made my hackles rise and I said angrily, "Nothing's been going on between me and Asha, and if you..."

"Your father didn't mean it that way, " mother cut in quickly, "but it's been obvious for some time how you feel about Asha and we think..."

"It's about time you started to behave like a man instead of a boy," father interrupted.

"Tell her," mother added brusquely, "she'll be home by now."

"She wouldn't want me to tell her," I protested.

My father snorted and said, "You need to be drunk to tell her, do you...?"

"Edward," my mother said, "There's no point in rubbing it in," then turning to me, "Trent, Asha was terribly upset last night, and you can at least apologise to her."

"Yes," apologise, father added, "if you haven't got the courage to..."

"Edward!" mother said threateningly. 

"Oh...oh clear off Trent," father said dismissively, and picked up the evening newspaper and pretended to read.

I looked at mother. She nodded, and so I made my way to Asha's place.

* * * * * * * *

I stood outside the front door for a while trying to rehearse what I'd say to Asha, and then screwing up my courage I knocked. There was a pause, and the door was opened and Asha stood there looking at me.

"Asha, I...want...er...I've come to..."

The speech I'd made up seemed to have vanished. I tried again. 

"Asha, I know I behaved badly but...er...I...er..."

"You'd better come in," Asha said wearily, "I think we need to talk."

Without another word she made her way down the passage through the lounge into the kitchen, and then turned to look at me.

Once more I tried.

"I didn't mean to upset you Asha and I'm sorry...sorry...for..."

What was I sorry for: because I'd got drunk; because I'd spoilt the evening; because I'd upset her? Yes, I was sorry for those things, but for what I'd said about loving her I wasn't sorry. My only regret was that I been drunk when I said it.

I made another attempt.

"I was drunk last night and..."

"Yes, you certainly were," Asha said softly.

"I know I said something that upset you and..."

"People often say things when they're drunk they wouldn't otherwise say," Asha interrupted. 

"Oh but I would say it when I'm sober," I protested.

"Would you?" Asha said, looking at me solemnly. "Would you really?"

"Yes...yes I would," I replied, and then screwing up my courage I said, "I love you Asha." 

"We'd better sit down," Asha said, indicting a dining chair. We sat opposite each other, the table serving as a sort of no-man's-land between us.

There was a long pause as we sat looking at each other. 

It was Asha who broke the silence.

"Trent, there's something I have to tell you."

There was another silence as Asha seemed to be making up her mind what she was going to say. 

Trying to break what I felt was a verbal deadlock I started to say, "Asha, we..."

"No Trent, I would never have told you this if you had not spoken, but since you have I want to say 'I love you.'"

"You...?

"Don't say anything just now Trent, let me speak. You know David and I never had a child?"

"Yes."

"We wanted to badly, but before it happened he was posted overseas to that...that...work."

"Yes."

"That day when I injured my ankle and you helped me, that's when it started."

"What?"

"I know it sounds foolish, but I thought that you were just the sort of son David and I would liked to have had...oh I know it's ridiculous, I'd have had to be a very sexually precocious little girl to have a son your age, but once I learned of your interest in history I wanted to have a part in your life, I wanted to do for you what I would have done for my own son if I'd had one."

"You wanted to be my mother?"

"I said it was ridiculous, and however I felt I knew I wasn't and could never be your mother, but I wanted you in my life, I wanted to give to you."

"And you did Asha," I replied, "Without you I don't know where I'd be now."

She smiled faintly and said, "Yes, your parents did take a bit of persuading but they finally saw where your future lay."

I managed a cautious grin and said, "It couldn't have happened without you."

Asha suddenly seemed the change the subject.

"I'm a one man woman Trent and it may sound old fashioned, but I'm also a believer in marriage vows."

"Yes...what...are you...er...David..."

"As long as David lived, and no matter how much he tried to persuade me to divorce him, I never would. I would even have brought him here to live with me, but they told me at the hospital that I could never handle all the things that David would need me to do for him. He told me that as well."

"I stayed faithful to him Trent."

"Yes, I know Asha." That wasn't quite true of the past because along with the rest of the Grove I suspected for a long time that she had a Sunday lover.

"I'll be honest with you Trent, the times I helped David did nothing for me; do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, you loved him and wanted to...to help him, but it couldn't work for you."

"I was physically faithful to him but was unfaithful to him in my mind."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not made to lead a chaste sexual life and I was unfaithful to David because I started to have sexual feelings about you before he died."

"Me!"

"Yes Trent, you; oh I know about the age difference and all that, but after what you said last night and this evening I had to tell you how I feel."

"Even though I was drunk?"

"Yes, even though you were drunk. I was sorry you had to be drunk to say it, but the alcohol pushed aside your inhibitions regarding me, and you said what you really felt, and now you've said it again."

"Yes."

"If you want to take those words back, please, do it now." 

"I'll never take them back, Asha."

* * * * * * * *

She sat looking at me searchingly for what seemed an age, and then rising she came to me slowly. My chair was a little way back from the table, and Asha stood in front of me looking down.

"There is something my love wants to give you," she said, and then pulling up her skirt she sat across me. Still looking at me she felt for the zip if my jeans and pulled it down. I felt her hand take hold of my penis and start to stroke it as she kissed me softly on the lips.

When she felt my penis was erect she moved forward, pulled aside the cloth where her panties passed over her genitals and inserted my length it into her vagina. 

Its head passed over her pubic bone and then entered a warm, moist silky paradise. With my full length in her she stopped still for a while, kissing me with lips parted, our tongues meshing, probing.

In the first few moments of our coupling I knew the difference between Asha and my experiences with Louise and Mavis. This was an act of love, of true giving and receiving. 

Still kissing me Asha began to move with a slow withdrawing and then thrusting motion. With every downward motion I felt her vagina gripping me and sucking me deep into her.

She was very quiet, and the only signal that she was about to come was a quickening of her movements and a low cry of, "Oh my darling" followed by soft sighing sounds; "Ah...ah...ah..."

I groaned as I released my sperm into her and for a few seconds we beat frantically together, locked in the exquisite embrace of mutual orgasm.

I emptied myself into her and began to relax as she continued to move on me, murmuring, "I love you..."I love you..." until she too relaxed and pressed soft wet kisses over my face."

She kept my flaccid penis in her vagina as if unwilling to let me go, and I certainly wasn't in a hurry to withdraw from her. With one last butterfly wing kiss on my lips she said, "Would you like to stay the night with me?"

I wanted to say, "I'll stay with you forever," but that sounded a bit corny so I simply said "yes," but then had second thoughts. 

"Asha, my parents know I'm with so they'll..."

She finished what I'd been going to say; "So they'll know what we're doing."

"Yes."

"Are you ashamed of it?"

Ashamed! I was glorying in it; I wanted to tell the whole world that I loved Asha, that I'd – oh my God it sounds such a cliché now – I'd found Miss Right. She was woman...all woman...and she would always be my woman if I had my way.

"Ashamed?" I said fervently, "I'll never be ashamed of what we've done."

"Then why don't you go and tell you parents that you're spending the night with me?"

"You mean be honest about it?"

"Yes, I'll come with you if you like."

I knew that if anything could make me ashamed it would be to have Asha hold my hand as I told my parents. It had grown late but I said, "I'll go and see if they're still awake and tell them," I said with a decisiveness I did not completely feel.

"Thank you Trent," she said somewhat ambiguously as she removed herself from me. It was a sort of delightful agony to be separated from her, especially as I thought about the night to come.

I left her and went to my house that somehow no longer seemed to be the place where I belonged. The gods must have taken pity on me because my father had retired to bed and mother was waiting up for me.

"Did you tell her?" was her first question.

"Yes, I told her," I replied.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Don't be so obtuse Trent," mother said with a sigh, "what did she say?"

This was the moment; "She said she loved me."

"Ah, mother sighed," as if with pleasure. "What else?"

"We...we...we made love."

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, "That's been inevitable for some time. It wasn't 'if,' only 'when.'"

"Asha asked me if I wanted to spend the night with her."

"And are you going to?"

"Yes, and more than tonight if she'll let me."

"She'll let you," mother said softly, "she's not the sort of woman to give herself easily, and when she does it's for the long term. What about you, Trent?"

"For the long term," I replied.

"You're sure?"

"Very sure; surer than I've ever been about anything."

"Then be sure you make her happy."

"I'll try, mother."

She kissed m on the cheek and said, "And be happy yourself; now go to her."

"Father..." I began to say, but mother laughed.

"You're father expected this as much as I did Trent, but he thought you'd be too afraid to ever say anything to Asha. I'll be able to tell him he was wrong; now go to her."

* * * * * * * *

I returned to the cottage not sure what would happen next. I looked in Asha's bedroom but she wasn't there, and as I headed for the lounge to see if she was there she came out of the bathroom wearing a dressing gown.

She smiled and said, "You told them?"

"Yes, and it's what they've been expecting."

Asha gave a tinkling laugh and said, "Why don't you have a shower, we might as well make a fresh start."

With that she disappeared into the bedroom and I went to the shower. 

When I'd finished showering and had dried myself I realised I had nothing to put on since I'd brought nothing with me. I had to make my way to the bedroom naked.

As I entered the room I saw Asha naked, standing with her back to me. I had always thought she had a good figure but now I could see its softly flowing outline I thought it superb, but it was as she turned to face me I was overwhelmed by her beauty: her long slender neck; delicately moulded shoulders; firm breasts capped with pink nipples and the little triangle of pubic hair that led the eyes to the hint of a firmly cleft vulva. Below that were her strong looking thighs and her shapely calves terminating with small feet. 

It was strange that I had once thought her only reasonably attractive, because now I thought her infinitely beautiful. Is that what love does for you – make you see beauty in a way that you cannot see it without love?

She came to me and putting her arms round my neck she pressed her body to mine. I felt the soft yielding warmth that only the body of an aroused female can communicate. 

Standing on tip toe she kissed me, long and tongue probingly, and while still kissing me she drew my firm penis between her legs and started to draw the lips of her vulva along it.

I wanted to explore her, taste her, smell her, to consume her. 

I suppose my experience with the "I'm-saving-that -Mr. Right" Mavis had at least taught me some useful things. With Asha still clinging to me I drew her down on to the bed. 

Slowly, almost analytically, I began my exploration of her. Beginning by stroking her hair as I licked and kissed her face. She lay almost supine as with hands, lips and tongue I searched every recess of her body.

It was only as I touched her breasts and began to suck her nipples that she stirred slightly and murmured, "Oh my darling."

I lingered long over those delicious mounds, but from my Mavis experience I knew there was one thing that females delight in almost above all else. 




Mrs. Grace and Me



I worked my way down her body until reaching her genitals I gently stroked them with the flat of my hand before inserting a couple of fingers into her virginal canal. Again she stirred, and whispered, "I love you Trent."

That I took as a signal. Placing a coupler of pillows under her buttocks I moved her legs apart and knelt between her thighs, and then placing my fingers on the lips of her vulva I parted them, to expose her inner lips. 

I had always hesitated to do this with Mavis because I had found her smell and taste unpleasant; there was no hesitation with Asha, I longed to smell and taste her. I ran my tongue over her wet inner lips until she began to moan. 

That was the moment; I raised the hood to expose her clitoris. That little centre of pure pleasure was standing up firmly. I began to circle it with my tongue, and for the first time during the exploration of her she began to cry out.

"Oh darling...no...no...it's too much...you'll make come...oh...oh...yes...yes...don't stop...oh God...oh God...I'm coming...ah...ah...oh...naaaeeeow..."

I had to wrap my arms round the thighs to keep in contact with her as she writhed and leapt, weeping with ecstasy. 

It was after she had climaxed that she began to moan, "Come in me...come in me...I need it...come..."

I lay over her and inserted my penis into her vagina; I was already desperate for her and as I frantically speared into her the agonising tingling began until reaching a peak I jolted my sperm deep into her.

She was now whimpering, "Oh yes...oh yes darling..." and having emptied myself into her we both began to relax.

Peace, that wonderful post-coital tranquility that follows deeply satisfying sexual intercourse, now embraced us. We lay together, my penis still in her vagina, unspeaking for a long time, for what was there to say that had not been expressed in our act of love.

It was all so different from the vaguely unsatisfying aftermaths in Bonking Wood – so much more wonderful, so fulfilling.

Then Asha took me by surprise for I knew nothing about multiple female orgasms. 

My penis had become flaccid immediately after I had ejaculated, but now it had grown firm again, and Asha began to work herself over it, raising and lowering her hips. 

Soon she was crying out again but I did not come into her; my sperm recovery rate was not apparently as rapid as that of James Bond or the heroes of the pornographic stories. My reward was the pleasure of seeing how ravishingly beautiful she looked as she orgasmed.

When she had finished I withdrew from her and we lay in each others arms in silence, looking into each other's eyes.

After a while I felt Asha's hand take hold of my penis. She started to masturbate me until it was erect, and then she moved down my body and took it into her mouth. 

I was amazed that she should want to take it into her mouth since it was coated with our mingled fluids. It was after I had come into her mouth and she had wiped her lips with some tissues that I questioned her about this. 

She smiled and said, "Well, you tasted me and I wanted to taste you, but I got a bonus, I tasted myself as well."

"I'll have my revenge," I grinned.

"How?" she asked, a little apprehensively. 

"Like this," I said as I plied my lips to her sex organ and made her come again as I had my taste of our sticky cocktail.

After that we slept and it was not until we woke next morning, that lying on our sides facing each other, with one of Asha's thighs over mine that I came into her again. After that there was something of an awkward hiatus.

We breakfasted together unspeaking, and it was not until I could stand it no longer that I broke the silence.

"Asha, we've known each other for a long time."

"Yes a very long time."

"We know quite a lot about each other."

"Yes, a great deal I suppose."

"We have a lot of interests in common."

"Yes of course, that's what brought us together."

"We love each other, don't we?"

"We said so last night."

"My mother said that you're for the long term."

"Trent," Asha said with simulated patience, "is there something you're trying to say?"

"Yes."

Simulation was dropped and the impatience pushed to the fore.

"Well for God's sake say Trent."

"It was just...well I thought that after last...what we did...and...and this mor..."

Asha grabbed a handy tea towel and flung it at me yelling, "If you don't get to the point I'll murder you." 

"I...I..." 

"Trent," Asha said threateningly, looking around for another tea towel or perhaps a little more lethal to throw.

"All right...all right..." I said. "I want to know if we can be long term." 

"Ah, I thought that was what you were going to say, or something like it."

"Did you, then why didn't you say so?"

"Because I'm a bit old fashioned and expect the man to do the asking, and because I'm quite a bit older than you."

"Does being older than me bother you?"

"More to the point, does it bother you, Trent?"

It was my turn to become impatient. 

"If it bothered me I wouldn't have asked you."

"Yes, I suppose that's true, well, the answer is no and yes."

"A negative and a positive!" I exclaimed, "In philosophy we..."

"Never mind about philosophy," Asha said sharply. "What I mean is, if you would like to move in with me as my lover we can find out just how much you want the long term, as you put it."

"As my mother put it," I contradicted.

"Don't quibble Trent."

"I wasn't quibbling," I protested, "and I don't need to find out how much I want the long term, I already know."

"You think you do. Lot's of men think they do when they get their hand in the plackets, only to find out later they've made a mistake."

She sighed and went on, "A lot of women find they've made a mistake as well. Sex can be a very devious guide to, as you put it, the long term."

"What's a good guide then?"

"I'll let you know eventually if you stay with me. So what's your answer, do you stay or not?"

Long term or not I wasn't prepared to lose Asha so I said, "I'll stay."

"Good," she said, "I was hoping that's what you'd say. Now shall we have a shower and then go back to bed – we can discuss your PhD while we continue some mutual investigations."

* * * * * * * *

Asha's hesitation over committing to a long term relationship lasted no more than seven weeks. She was found to be pregnant and it took little persuasion to convince her to marry me. She did however issue a final warning.

"I've been married once and stayed married even though I had a husband who urged me to divorce him. If we get married then don't expect me to agree to a divorce; if you want one you'll be on your own."

"But Asha," I protested, "we're not even married yet so why are you talking about divorce?"

"Just warning you," she replied.

There was one thing that puzzled me. We could not be sure when she had first conceived, but we always jokingly talked of it as one of the few conceptions that had been achieved on a dining chair. What I wondered was, why she had never conceived with David. 

I found the courage to ask her once, and she looked at me as if I was a simpleton and said, "After he was hospitalized I always put a condom on him; I didn't want a child growing up with an absentee father."

David has rarely been mentioned since then, but I know that Asha still keeps the wedding photograph. Some might think I should be jealous, but I feel it augers well for me. If she was capable of that sort of love for David, then the chances are that she has plenty of love left over for me.

"The supreme happiness of life is the conviction we are loved."

(Victor Hugo)



Mrs. Grant's Daughter



The Life of Ian Devure: P.I.

Ian was in over his head. Things had been getting sticky on his present-case, and there were more people involved than he felt comfortable with. This tight-little dame named Maessa Grant, had hired Ian at a welcoming wage, to find her missing husband. He wasn’t kidnapped, that was disproved by the bank accounts being empty the day he skipped town. He left behind a grief-stricken wife, and a beautiful daughter. Ian had sunk a few leads, one of those that took him to El Paso, a province of Mexico. He found nothing but dirty trails of where Mr. Grant had been, leaving behind a path of drugs, prostitution, and more drugs for the hell of it. 

Gayla paged him on the speakerphone. 

“Mr. Devure? Mrs. Grant is on the phone…” her voice was smooth and clean. 

“Thanks, Gayla.” he replied before cutting her off and picking up the other line. “This is Ian…” 

“Mr. Devure?” the voice was young and soft.

“Yeah?” he wasn’t sure who it was, but it wasn’t Mrs. Grant. 

“This is Lexia…Maessa Grant is my mother?” she was waiting for him to acknowledge her.

“Uh…okay. What can I do for you?” he replied.

“I know we haven’t really spoken before, and I hate to do this but…I need a ride home from school…and I can’t get in touch with my mom…” he could hear her smiling. Maessa had told him before, amidst mild socializing, that her daughter was eighteen, and he wondered why the girl didn’t have a car of her own. He thought about it briefly, and sighed into the phone. She heard this sigh and replied to it.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Devure…look, I’ll give you some gas money…” 

He laughed and rubbed his eyes. “No, that won’t be necessary, Lexia.”

She smiled on the other line and he continued.

“Which school is it?” 

Clinton Memorial High, on the outskirts of the city, where mostly rich kids attended. Ian pulled into the parking lot in his craft, as a flood of kids were coming out of the building. Everywhere around him there were soccer moms, and beautiful teenage girls. He felt like a creep, waiting in the parking lot for a completely unrelated young girl.

A tall girl came walking towards his car. She had long, straight-blonde hair, and her eyes were lean and mature for her age. Her skin looked soft and full of color, and her jeans hung down around her hips, and there wasn’t enough shirt to cover her belly button. 

Ian coughed violently when he saw her approaching the car, stunned by her beauty. 

She leaned down and looked through the opposite window.

“Whats your name?” she asked.

“Uh…Ian..Devure…” he replied strangely.

Without speaking she opened the door, and sat down in the seat next to him, placing her knapsack in her lap. He looked at her silently, as she stared back with a faint smile.

“I’m Lexia.” she said, and held out her hand.

He shook it slowly and grinned.

“Okay…where to?” 

“My house.” she answered. “You know where that is, right?”

“Yeah.” he replied, and sped out of the parking lot. 

“So what, your like a real private investigator?” she inquired, looking him over.

He thought about his answer before delivering it.

“You could say that, yeah.” he answered, not looking away from the road.

“You find my dad yet?” she asked, and he felt awkward.

“No, not yet.” he answered, and glanced over at her.

“I hope you don’t. He’s a prick…” she replied, looking down at her bags. Her shirt was a pink tank-top, and her bra straps were exposed on the shoulders. The straps were red. Ian loved red underwear. And she was wearing that glossy lip-balm---shit makes their lips look luscious. Her breasts were small, but they hung-off of her tiny frame nicely. 

“That’s what your mother tells me, anyway…” he mumbled and she laughed. 

Then she looked at him with a different composure.

“How old are you, Mr. Devure?” she was cute as hell, and he hated telling her that he was old.

“I’m thirty-nine years old.” he sighed, looking out of his window casually.

She didn’t seem phased. 

“Were you in the war?” 

“Yeah…yeah I was.” he answered quietly, and his voice was rugged and cold. 

“Was it as horrible as they say?” she was intrigued now. Ian paused for a good ten seconds before answering her.

“That all depends on how well you handle war…” it was the right answer for a man like himself. She thought it to be profound, and a show of strength within him. He was a gorgeously-rugged man, and his eyes showed echoes of pain that had been overcome but never extinct. 

“And you handled it well?” she asked, and her voice was sassy now. She was beginning to grow comfortable in his presence.

“I don’t talk much about it. But I’m here, and I’m alive.” he replied, and she smiled. 

“Do you mind if I throw my bag in the backseat?” and she was already turning around to throw it back.

“Go ahead.” he mumbled, and looked down at her waist, for as she twisted around, it pulled up, showing a large portion of her toned stomach. There was a white anarchist symbol on the top of her pelvis, a novelty of tanning. 

“You a practicing anarchist?” he almost laughed.

She smiled coyly, and sat forward once again. Then she pulled her shirt up to her ribs, and looked down at the symbol Ian to the liberty to catch another look as well.

“Oh no…that’s just for the hell of it.” she giggled and caught him staring at her stomach before she pulled the shirt down. He quickly looked away and lit a cigarette. She watched it with pleading eyes.

“Uh…can I have one of those?” she asked quietly. He frowned his eyes towards her.

“No. They’re shit on your health…” 

She laughed at this and moaned, “Please…I’ve been needing a cigarette really bad…” 

“What troubles do you have?” he scoffed.

“What troubles? I’m eighteen. This is the pariah of life, Mr. Devure. Its horrible. I’m about to be tossed into the real world, fresh out of the closure of high school…”

He laughed. She was intelligent for her age.

“You should be anticipating the leap…” he replied.

“Hell no. I’m dreading the hell out of it…” she was certain and stern in this.

“You shouldn’t. You’re young and beautiful. You’ve got life ready to lie down for you already…” he replied, and she watched him closely. She liked his remark, especially the beautiful part. Even before she met Mr. Devure though, she had always hated guys her age. Not saying she necessarily liked Mr. Devure, but as far as attraction went, it was certainly there. 

“You think I’m beautiful, Mr. Devure?” she asked, and her hands opened onto their palms on her legs. He took a nervous breath, fearing what may come, and didn’t look at her.

“I was generalizing, Lexia…” he wasn’t sure how to take the girl.

“So I’m not?” she replied with a cocky grin.

“I didn’t say that.” he answered, sticking to his guns. 

“What did you say?” she replied, and she slid her fingers on the insides of her thighs, very inconspicuously. Still, he noticed.

“I said you’re beautiful and young…” he replied, licking his lips and tossing the cigarette out of the window. 

“And it was a generalization? Or an observation?” she was witty, and it made her mature, which caught her up with the rest of her body. 

“It was an observation. You’re a lovely girl…” he replied, and only glanced at her. She bit her bottom lip and smiled. Then she released her seat belt, leaned up, and pulled her tank-top over her head. He swerved the wheel nervously, and looked over at her plump little tits, hanging in red-silk cups. The tips of her blonde hair hung around her chest and shoulder blades. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he almost yelled at her and she giggled.

“Come on, Mr. Devure. I’m not being shy…” her voice was taunting and sexy. He tried not to look, but failed frequently. And she loved it when he did. “And you shouldn’t be either...”

“Its not about me being shy, Lexia. Now put your shirt on..." he was nervous at her almost-naked body, and she laughed at him in defiance. 

“Geez, Ian! Loosen up a little! Its just you and me!” she laughed again, raised her ass up from the seat, and unbuttoned her pants. He saw and glimpse of red panties that matched the bra, before he reached over and pushed her hands away.

“No! Hey!” he swerved the craft again, and another person honked at him. When he released her hands to grab the wheel again, she slid the frayed waistband of the jeans under her ass, exposing her panties. She held them where they were, and made her eyebrows dance with anticipation. 

“Wooo-hoooo, baby!” she yelled, and wiggled her hips excitedly. He was glancing over more often now, and she pulled the jeans down around her ankles. She put her seatbelt back on and put her left hand on his shoulders and his chest. He took a deep breath, and looked over at her.

“Stop it…” he was trying hard to be a strong man. He had never been a good man, but he felt like this was as good of a place as any, to draw a line. 

She pouted her lips playfully, and slid her hand down his stomach, on a course for his pants. 

He slammed on the brakes and pulled off of the road. They were in a residential area, with a fair distance between each house. Her eyes were large and he pushed her hands off of him.

“Listen, Lexia. Don’t take this wrong, but…I can’t do this. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Actually, you’re off by about four years…” she replied.

“Assume I had you young.” he replied, and she giggled. “We can’t do this! You are a very beautiful girl…and I should say woman…but I have to refuse this! And please don’t uh…let it…ah…be of any regard as to how you view yourself.” he was extremely nervous, and fighting his urges.

“Mr. Devure, please. Its no big deal. I think you’re very sexy…and I’m young…and so easily-taken advantage of…” she moaned the last words, and leaned towards him slowly. He looked down at her breasts, and almost grabbed one, but clinched his hand into a fist instead. 

“And that’s why we can’t do it…” he replied, and leaned against the door. She rolled her eyes, and laughed conclusively. 

“Well…we don’t have to have sex then. We can just…mess around, you know?” she was so fucking eager that it made him hurt. And she had her hand on his chest again, rubbing it softly. Her nipples were making protrusions through her bra, and the fat of her breasts was swelling proudly. He actually felt sweat on his forehead, and found himself breathing heavily. 

“Damnit, Lexia…I’m taking you home now…” he replied, and promptly pulled back onto the road. 

“Awww…” she was being sexy, but annoying. 

“Don’t patronize me…” he hissed, and she giggled again. This time, he hadn’t removed her hands from his chest. She leaned over the console between them, and her right hand rubbed the crotch of his pants. There was an erection rubbing against her palm, and she noticed that it felt thick.

“Ohhhh God, Ian…” she moaned, and continued to fondle him. He raised a proud eyebrow and took another breath, trying to maintain normal speed on the road. 

“Don’t, please…” he was mumbling now, and he had completely given-in. She stretched her neck out and kissed his neck softly, as she took her time, palming his erection through his pants.

“I want to play with it, Mr. Devure…” she whispered, and reached for his belt. With one hand, she unfastened the belt, unbuttoned his pants, and unzipped them. She saw white boxer shorts beneath his slacks, and thought that they looked good on him. What was better, was what lay beneath the cotton undies. He gripped the steering-wheel tightly, and groaned loudly when she wrapped her hand around his cock, and pulled it free of his pants. It stood up tall and proud in his lap, and her hands went back down to retrieve his balls. She pulled his scrotum out, and it hung neatly beneath his shaft. Her hands were soft and smooth, as she took a good grip of his staff, and began to slide the skin up and down. 

His penis certainly met her expectations. It was tall and fat, at least eight inches. By far, the biggest that she had ever seen. And she hadn’t seen many at all, to be exact. Now she stroked him gently, kissing his neck, and she felt warmth spreading between her legs. Her breasts felt swollen and tight, and she could feel her nipples stretching to their limits. 

“See, Mr. Devure? There’s no harm in a little playfulness…” she whispered between kisses, and his face was red now, and he was breathing hard. He didn’t reply.

“Why aren’t you talking, baby?” she asked, and she was picking up her own breathing now, as her hand picked up a faster pace. 

“I wish you wouldn’t do this…” he groaned, still death-gripping the wheel.

“You’re lying, Mr. Devure. Look at your fat cock…its standing up for me…and my wet little panties…” she was taunting him, and he wished that he could just orgasm right then, and get it over with. 

She stopped kissing him, sat back into her seat, switching to her left hand, but never missing a beat on his cock. Her forearms were starting to burn a little from the exertion. He looked over curiously, as she was reaching across from her seat to beat him off. And sure as shit, she was touching herself. Her fingers were sliding down the front of her panties, and he could see them wiggling beneath the crotch of her red panties. Her legs opened, and her ass slid forward in the seat, and she watched his cock with lust in her eyes. 

Then she put on a hell of a show, and he couldn’t help but wonder how she learned it. She propped one foot on the dash, giving just enough liberty to see her pussy. Just enough of it anyway. Then with one hand on his cock, and the other buried knuckle-deep in her snapper, she began doing both simultaneously. She would stroke his cock down, and at the same time, slide three fingers into her pussy. Stroke her hand slowly up his penis, and at the same time pull her fingers out of her box. And she was acting like it was his cock. She moaned incessantly, and bucked her hips upward with each thrust of her fingers. He began trying to watch the road, and her display at the same time. She put this show on for a long while, and would speed up the pace occasionally, jabbing at her own pussy, bucking her hips wildly, and screaming at the top of her lungs. It created a wonderful illusion of actual intercourse, and he wished that he had taken her up on the actual offer. Regardless though, he felt a surge rushing to the tip of his penis, and he jerked violently, as a spurt of semen literally exploded into the air, and landed on the steering wheel. She moaned with satisfaction, and slowed down the pace, as she pumped out the rest of his semen, one slow, tight stroke at a time.  

His face was flushed, and he was breathing heavier than ever. She tickled her pussy for a little longer, with a face that looked as if she had been fucked. She moaned and whimpered wearily, before she pulled her fingers out, straightened the crotch of her panties, and looked at the slime on her fingers. He saw it as well, and didn’t know what to say. She grinned coyly again, reached over, and wiped her juices on his slowly-deflating cock. 

“Next time…maybe I won’t have to use my fingers to get it on there…” she whispered, and reached down to pull her pants up. 

He groaned deeply, and with one hand, stuffed his penis back into his pants. It was sticky and slimy, and tip of it was burningly-sensitive. He looked over to watch her slide her pants on, and then the shirt, and she smiled at his observation. 

The craft turned onto her street, and within a quarter of a mile, stopped in front of her house. She was fully clothed now, and was pulling her knapsack from the back seat.

“Well…” he said quietly, and very awkwardly.

“Mr. Devure, really. Don’t act so weird…” she smiled and chuckled, and opened the door to get out.

“Okay. Well…uh…thank you. It was pretty good…” he grinned and nodded his head.

“Pretty?” she asked, shockingly.

“Yeah. You need a little work…but you’re on th’ right course.” he replied, and she raised her eyebrow at him.

“Fuck you, Mr. Devure. Are you in the office everday around five?” she asked and he immediately grew uneasy.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I can’t have that. Not in the office!” he replied and she laughed victoriously.

“Yeah, we’ll see…” she was getting out now, and he leaned over to yell.

“No, Lexia! Don’t come by my office!” 

“Bye, Mr. Devure. Oh! I almost forgot…” she ran around the front of his car, and he watched her breasts as they bounced with each step. He rolled down his window, so that she could lean in and give him a friendly kiss on the lips.

“Thanks for the ride…” she replied. He looked at her house nervously.

“Look…this is exactly why I didn’t want to do that. Your mother can not know about any of this!”

“Yeah, no shit, Ian. Don’t worry. I get my craft back from the garage on Tuesday. I’ll stop by…” she replied and immediately trotted towards her house. 

He was nervously yelling after her.

“Not the office, damnit!” he realized that she couldn’t hear him, and most certainly would be stopping by the office. Gayla, his jealous secretary would see her, and quite possibly, it would get around to Mrs. Grant. And what if the girl went psycho? Young dames were bad about blackmailing over-eager, over-aged pricks. She wasn’t outside of the law, but her mother would most certainly have his ass. So he figured, anyway. And just to think, he had thought about banging her mother the first time she stepped into his office. He never thought that she had a daughter that rivaled her in beauty and finesse. 

And still there was Gayla, on top of the angry mother. She was jealous and prying, and would have no doubts as to why young Lexia Grant was visiting him privately. He would have to send her to lunch or something. 

"No, damnit! You’re not going to touch her!" 

Why did she have to play like that? All of the young ones did it. He hated his hormones, and even more, the lack of control over them. 



Mrs. Green



I had always been fond of Mrs. Green. She was an elderly woman I guessed always to be about 45. She was my English Teacher and was very good as a teacher. I was 18 at time and very mature. We have known each other for 6 years since I was 12. I was currently having her for my A-levels. She was in good shape for her age and she had a trim figure. She was about 5ft 9 and she had blue eyes and brown hair. I have to admit her face had started turning wrinkly but that didn't matter. I had fancied her for a couple of years and I was called the teachers pet because she was very fond of me.

One day thought hat all changed. I was asked to stay and help with the display we were putting up. I was putting up one side and she put up the other. She came across and reached for the stapler and brushed against my cock and it I went into shock she just smiled I noticed she was wearing no bra and she had a nipple erection. I suddenly became erect as well. She noticed this. 

"Oh Luke you look as if you need some help!"

"Yes miss."

I was near to crumbling. She walked over and as I held part of the display up she pressed her tits up against my back and cuddled me. With that she gripped my manhood. I could have exploded there.

"Come to the storeroom there is something I want to show you."

I couldn't wait I was that close to fucking my English teacher. I walked in shut the door, and locked it. I turned and to my total surprise she looked serious and said:

"Look Luke I don't know if we should do anything because I have been teaching for over 20 years and I have a reputation to uphold."

Shit she must be in her 40's. She is in good condition for that. 

"Miss don't worry no one will see us and I wont tell anyone. Why would I be here if I would."

"Oh Luke I was hoping you were going to say that."

She approached me and kissed me on the lips. I was expecting her to taste of bad breath but she had he most wonderful aroma. I just didn't know what to do. So I opened my mouth and she slid her tongue in We must have stood there a while playing with each others tongues and exploring each others mouths. I was surprised then when she unzipped my flies and I pulled away.

"Don't you want this? Do you not find me attractive."

"No Miss I find you sexy but do you want to?" "Don't fuck about just satisfy me."

I took off my trousers. She pulled down her dress. I have to admit her breasts weren't firm but no where near saggy. Her body had hardly any ageing signs.

"No bad for a 47 year old grandmother. Eh."

I stood there gawping for a few seconds and pulled off all my clothes I stood there naked with a 6 ½ inch erection. She slid down her panties to reveal a well trimmed pussy. I reached down and pulled out a condom.

"Down worry about that I wanna have your cum inside me."

It then hit me how old she was and I was going to fuck her

"Luke if you think I'm too old then put on your clothes and go."

I didn't answer I just walked up to her and stuck my tongue down her throat. My hands were groping her ass but hers went further she put her middle finger up my ass. I breathed in sharply as she pushed it all the way. She started playing with my ass and I groaned.

"You like that?" 

"Oh try two fingers."

She did and they fit fine. She played for a little longer before pulling out and licking her fingers clean.

"My turn." I said as I got on my knees and kissed her pussy. She sat on the desk behind her and spread her legs. I nearly cummed there and then. I buried my face into her pussy and licked it a and licked it. I slid in two fingers and I was playing with her. Then I found her G-spot. I spent 3 minutes licking and fingering. I felt her muscles tighten up as I rubbed.

"Luke oh I'm gonna cum please stop they'll hear me orgasm."

"No cum all over me just cum."

She was breathing heavily and I knew she was going to cum. She grabbed the nearest thing to her. My boxer shorts. Then with no haste they were in her mouth and she was gagged and screaming at the top of her voice as the cum started flowing. The muscles of her pussy were going frantic as the cum still flow and she still screamed. She was tossing her head and her eyes were rolling.

After she had stopped I pulled my damp, shorts out of her mouth.

"Good?"

"Amazing I haven't came like that in 30 years."

"Miss stand up and take it like a bitch."

"Oh, give it to me hard Luke."

With that instruction I backed her into a book case and she jumped and wrapped her legs around me I lowered her onto my cock. It made a squelching sound. She chuckled and pushed my face into her breasts. All I could do was suck on them as she moved up and down on my manhood. I couldn't believe I was here fucking my 47 year English teacher. 

After 10 minutes of ravaging her pussy I felt the urge in cum. 

"Ohhh miss I'm gonna cum."

"Go on Luke pump it deep inside me go on."

I then released a huge load inside Mrs. Green. The cum just kept flowing.

"Ohhh Miss how does it feel to be fucked by someone a third of you rage."

"(Groan) how do you think. Luke go faster please go faster."

Abiding by her orders I went faster and faster. After 2 minutes I let her down and put her on her hands and knees facing the wall. I gripped her hips and slipped my cock into her already well cum lubricated pussy. It was amazing how much more pleasure she was getting and I have to admit I came in under 10 minutes. But then kept going because I could feel her coming to an orgasm.

I kept pumping and pumping. I could feel her muscles tighten around my cock and her whole body go rigid. She started breathing heavily and groaning very loudly. So I slipped my cock out and put my whole fist inside her. I felt her muscles move aside as my hand went further and further. She said.

"That is fabulous. Now work on my ass."

"You mean fuck your ass."

"Luke, I don't think it'll fit."

"It will."

With that I eased it in inch by inch. It was so tight yet it could take it. Then I hit my fist. It had stretched the muscles so much it was taking up the space for her ass. I only had 5 inches of it in. Just over an inch to go. Shit. I couldn't get it any further.

The I nearly had a heart attack. Miss Forger knocked on the door and tried to open it.

"Oh ummm sorry Anita there's a lot of books pilled up there. Ill be out soon."

"Oh sorry I just wanted to ask where Luke was I need him."

We heard her walk away. I pulled my fist out and slammed my manhood the whole way in. Mrs. Green breathed sharply.

"I bet she needs me."



Mrs. Green



My best friend Nick had gotten me a job with him working at a local, Mom and Pop Grocery store. It was small, but then again, so was the town. One of those places with a population that hadn't as yet reached a thousand, though there was hope of that happening sometime during the year.

I had just turned 18, and didn't as yet own my own car. Which was one of the reasons I had taken on a near full-time job while still attending school. I was in hopes of eventually saving up enough money to buy one, even though I knew it wouldn't be anything even near what I really wanted to own. Still, 'wheels' meant a certain amount of freedom and independence from having to rely upon friends. Though Nick was never one to complain as he more than willingly took us everywhere we, or I needed to go in his car.

One of the nice things about living in a small-sized community, was you pretty much knew everyone who lived there. Especially as most if not all, eventually made their way into "Ernie's & Eva's" Grocery store as everyone knew it to be called. 

Most of the time, Nick and I were the only night-clerks available, along with Denise the checker, and Eva herself who helped out if things ever got busy. Which they rarely if ever did. There was one other younger guy who generally worked during the days, though he sometimes worked nights if either Nick or I had the night off for whatever reason. I didn't mind working there either. I made pretty good wages for what I did, and the work wasn't all that bad. Stocking shelves, sweeping up the occasional mess, and helping most people out to their cars with their groceries wasn't a bad way to make a living, especially for a young kid with a goal in mind for himself.

Another part of our jobs was keeping an eye on things of course. Especially whenever other kids, most of which Nick and I knew, who came into the store. Mr. Slater, or Ernie had had a number of petty thefts take place. All of which we knew had been from most of the kids that came in and never bought anything. The difficult thing, was having to rat on them. But rat on them we did whenever Nick or I caught someone trying to make off with this thing or that. We had plenty of secret little places to go and spy on people whenever they came into the store. Though thankfully, for the most part, we didn't need to go and do that very often.

I had just signed for a delivery of produce at the back dock when Nick came running up to me. He'd been working there for well over a year now, which is how he'd saved up enough money for his car.

"Rick! Rick!" You gotta come see this!" he told me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Mrs. Green. She's here!" he said excitedly.

Like I said, I pretty much knew everyone who lived in our area. And I didn't recall ever hearing of anyone with the last name of Green.

"Who?"

"Mavis Bumgirgle, or whatever the hell her name is," Nick stated.

"You mean Mrs. Boregard," I said correcting him. Now that name, I had heard. Though I hadn't as yet ever seen her. The only thing I knew about her was from the bits and pieces of gossip I had heard on and off during the course of the last few month's since she had moved here with her husband. They had purchased the one true piece of really expensive property that encompassed several acres. Mr. Boregard was some sort of business tycoon who had recently purchased the bank. Mrs. Boregard was supposedly a real "looker" from what I'd heard. Though again, I had never seen her personally myself.

Still, interested in what she did look like, I figured she wasn't going anywhere at the moment and decided to finish putting away the fresh lettuce that had just arrived.

"Come on dude!" Nick pressed. "You're gonna miss it!"

"Miss what?" I asked in exasperation. "She can't look that good."

"It's not just the way she looks my friend," Nick said evilly. "But what she sometimes does when she thinks no one is looking." 

Now that did grab my attention. "What do you mean...what she sometimes does?"

"Bob told me about it once. I didn't believe him until I saw it myself. Bob's the one who nicknamed her Mrs. Green, because of her fondness for vegetables!"

Bob was the daytime guy, and all around decent sort of a fellow. Though several years older than either Nick or myself, he'd grown up in this town like everyone else and had a bit of a reputation for being a wild one back in his high-school days.

"Come on, there's a perfect place to watch and keep and eye on her without her knowing we are." 

I followed him along the backside of the store until we'd entered into the refrigeration area just behind the fresh fruits and vegetable section. Peering through several gallons of milk containers, I could indeed see the entire isle where she was standing. "Mrs. Green" as I now began to think of her myself, really was a very attractive looking woman, easily twice my age perhaps, and certainly worth a whole hell of a lot of money. I watched as she stood there fingering and pawing through several fruits and veggies, finally arriving closer to the cucumber bin.

"Oh! This is gonna be good!" Nick exclaimed expectantly. But I still had no idea what he was talking about.

"What is?" I whispered back, even though I was fairly certain at this distance she couldn't have heard either one of us talking.

Mrs. Green might have been twice our age, but she certainly looked a lot younger, and was far better looking than any of the cheerleader types at the high school we attended. Her nearly coal-black hair settled just below her shoulders giving her a sultry look, even from behind when you stared at her. Her eyes were equally as dark, and though I couldn't see what color they were at this distance, I assumed they were either a very dark brown, or a cobalt blue. But at my age, it was the pair of boobs that she was sporting that first caught my attention when she finally turned around facing in our direction.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed almost a little too loudly. "Man, is she built!"

"Shhh!" Nick cautioned me. "She might hear you. And you don't want to miss this, if she does what I'm hoping she'll do," he added.

We continued to watch Mrs. Green fondling the cucumber pile, which is the only way I could describe it.

"Ok Nick. I admit, she's good looking. But you really getting off on watching her fondle a few veggies?"

"No, but with luck, she might," he answered giddily. "Look! Look!" He said a second later.

Turning back around in her direction, I saw that she was carefully scanning the store to ensure that no one was close enough to see her. In the next instant, she picked up one of the cucumbers she'd been handling. In a state of shock, I saw Mavis lift up the front of the skirt she was wearing. Even at this distance, it was obvious that she wasn't wearing any panties. We both watched as Mrs. Green, whom I would fondly and forever now call her, positioned that long fat cucumber at the opening of her sex.


"Sweet...."

"Jesus!"  Nick finished for me.

Inserting the dark green naturally shaped toy inside the opening of her pussy, we sat mesmerized as she slowly managed to slip a great deal of it inside her. Taking another look or two around the store, she stood there, fucking herself with the cucumber, a rapturous look of pleasure clearly outlined in her face. Finally pushing most of it inside herself, she lowered her dress, and then pushed off with her grocery cart to finish doing her shopping.

"What the hell?" I asked to no one in particular.

Nick punched me in the arm however. "Yep. Just like last time," he told me. "Only then, it was a yellow banana."

"So now what's she going to do?" I wondered aloud.

"Finish her shopping. And get off like she did last time," Nick stated. 

"Did you see her do that?" 

"No damn it. Too hard to follow her without being obvious about it."

I laughed, wondering. "So, does she shoplift her veggies?"

"No. In fact she really does take them out at some point. I saw her last time, and she really did pay for one single banana!"

Nick and I both made our way up front, trying as carefully as we dared to keep an eye on Mrs. Green as she continued pushing her shopping cart up one isle and down the other. It was soon obvious that she was just about finished as she reached the last isle, and turned.

Nick and I all but sprinted towards that last isle, hoping to catch a glimpse of her as she removed the cucumber from her pussy. But she was too careful for that, obviously stopping at the end of the isle to do so before continuing on.

"Nick?" We both heard Denise calling out. "Would you mind bagging please?" 

An older woman had reached the checkout line well ahead of Mrs. Green. And as luck would have it, Denise spotted Nick first.

"Shit!" he exclaimed under his breath, already heading off to help bag her groceries. Catching a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, I knew it had to be Mrs. Green. As it happened, there were several items on the shelf that needed straightening, so I made some pretense of doing that as she passed behind me. Turning, I looked directly at her and smiled. She smiled back.

"Hello," I said with a smile that split my face open wide. And worse, I felt my cheeks blushing crimson. "Find everything you need?" I asked hoping the tone of my voice wasn't giving anything away.

"Yes. Thank you," she replied. "You going to bag me?" 

I swallowed. Not sure I had heard her correctly. "Excuse me?"

"You going to help check me out?" she asked again. I felt like telling her I already had.

"Yes, yes of course," I said now following her up front. And as I did, I noticed a single large green cucumber lying in the bottom of her cart. I caught myself staring at it...as she did. My face exploded into a beet red, and I felt like running off into the night with embarrassment.

"I really do enjoy a nice big cucumber," she said innocently. 

"Yes mam," I said, watching as she rolled her eyes. 

"Please. Don't call me mam. Makes me feel like an old woman. You don't think of me as an old woman now do you, uh...what is your name anyway?"

"Ah...no ma...miss." I corrected quickly. Then she re-corrected me.

"Call me Mrs. Boregard." She stated. "Or, if we're ever alone, you can all me May. Which is short for Mavis." 

I didn't know what to call her. So I simply nodded my head and followed her up to the checkout line. Nick was already heading out the door with the cart full of groceries he'd just bagged. Throwing me a knowing look, as well as a teasingly angry one, he soon disappeared just as Mrs. Green and I reached the counter.

"How are you today?" Denise asked in a less than friendly tone of voice. "Find everything?"

"Yes. Thank you," May responded. "And by the way. You never did tell me your name," she said talking to me directly.

Once again I blushed, feeling more and more stupid all the time. "Rick," I said simply.

"Well Rick," she said emphasizing my name. "Would you mind carrying out these bags for me after I'm done here?" 

"Ah, sure," I responded, still uncomfortable in calling her anything, though I'd nearly called her Mrs. Green. Especially after watching Denise reach down inside the shopping cart, retrieving the cucumber. After weighing it, she tossed it inside a plastic bag. I watched as it traveled the short distance down the conveyer to where I was standing...waiting for it. Even thought it was wrapped. I knew secretly where it had just been. I ensured that I grabbed nothing but plastic before tossing it into one of the other sacks. Glancing up, May was grinning at me.

"What? Don't like cucumbers?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah, matter of fact I do," I said finding my voice. Denise was looking at the two of us as though we'd both gone goofy. Mrs. Green stood there waiting, without saying a word.

"Rick? You going to help her outside with these? Or not?" Denise questioned. 

Relocating my wits, I snatched up both bags of groceries and followed Mrs. Green outside to her car, passing Nick as he walked past us on his way back in.

"Need any help?" he snickered just under his breath.

"No thanks. I've got it," I retorted back.

"Lucky fucker," he mouthed at me. I was glad that May had walked on slightly faster ahead of me. She was already opening the door of her car and couldn't have possibly heard Nick's comments or see his silent statement to me either.

"This isn't my big shopping," she informed me as I placed both bags on the back seat of her car. "I usually do that on the weekends. But it also happens that I have a lot going on this weekend too. I don't suppose if I sent over a list of things, that you could do the shopping for me and bring them over later would you?" she asked. "There would be a nice tip in it for you if you did."

I knew that we sometimes did that for customers from time to time. But it all depended on how busy things got at the store. "I can check with Mr. Slater if you'd like. If it's ok with him, then sure. I can do that."

Mrs. Green pressed a five-dollar bill in my hand. I immediately handed it back to her. "No reason to tip me," I said. "It's all a part of the service."

"Keep it. And there will be a lot more for you than that for doing my shopping for me," she said with a wink.

I stood there watching her drive off in her silver BMW. Now I was lusting after two things. Her, and her car.

#

I'd arrived at work as usual early Saturday morning before the store even opened. Denise met me moments after I had clocked in. 

"Mr. Slater wants to see you in his office," she said smugly. Denise seemed to get a twisted kick out of seeing either Nick or I get called on the carpet for anything. Which really was rare. Obviously, she was dying to know why too.

"If I can do anything," she left off bating her eyelashes at me. One thing Denise wasn't...was attractive.

"Thanks. I'm sure everything's fine," I told her. And immediately headed upstairs to his office.

Mr. Slater was busy working at his paper-covered desk when I first knocked before entering. It was a wonder he knew where everything was, though he always seemed to.

"Come in, come in!" he announced without even looking up at me. Holding out a sheet of paper, he waved it at me. "Mrs. Boregard would greatly appreciate it if I would have someone do her shopping for her," he said somewhat disgustedly. "Like I have time to spare anyone to do it.  Here, get what she needs and hurry back to the store as quick as you can. You won't get paid for anytime you're away from the store mind you, but I will let you keep whatever tip you get out of it." Only then did he look up in my direction, "Now go! And be quick about it!"

I glanced at the list he'd handed me the moment I left his office. Most everything was easy enough. And then I spotted an item half way down her list. It said: "Two not quite ripe, large-sized banana's." She'd even placed a 'smiley-face' next to that entry. I wondered briefly if she knew, that I knew. After our past encounter, I had my suspicions, and especially now. I quickly located everything.  Luckily, I had plenty of room for the things she had asked for so they would fit in both of the baskets I had mounted on my bike. I hated riding it, but as I really had no other means of transportation, I had little if any choice. And Nick wasn't due in to work until later than afternoon. As it was easily a three-mile ride to her home, I headed off pedaling as fast as my legs would go. A reasonably short time later, I pulled up into the circular drive-way of their expansive looking home, and began looking for the back door as I expected that's where she'd prefer for me to go. I located it a few moments later and knocked.

"Come in!" I heard her calling out.

The doorknob twisted easily in my hand. I opened the door, stepping into the kitchen/pantry area. Walking over to the kitchen counter, I put the first two bags down and headed back outside to grab the other two. When I returned, she was waiting for me.


"Did you get everything I asked for?" she said. 

I noticed she hadn't as yet gotten dressed. Still wearing some sort of silky looking bathrobe, she otherwise looked like she'd showered, put on her make-up and made herself ready for the day. All except for dressing of course. She looked spectacular.

"I think so," I commented.

"Did you get the bananas I asked for?"

Once again we locked eyes. "I'm pretty sure they're in one of the two bags I just brought in," I stated. I watched as she quickly rummaged through one, locating them a moment later.

"Would you like one?" she offered.

"Oh. No thanks." I said feeling more than a little weird at the moment. I had no doubt at all now that we were playing some sort of "trippy" little head-game with one another. And I was becoming more than a little curious to see just exactly how far she was willing to push this.

"But if you want one, help your self," I challenged, hoping I had said just enough to let her know I wasn't as dumb as she seemed to be taking me for. I watched as she began putting things away. Opening one of the kitchen cupboards, she made some pretense of trying to reach the upper shelf where several other can goods were stored. As she did, her bathrobe parted, revealing a goodly portion of one of her obviously bare breasts.

"Can't reach," she said simply. "Do you mind?" Handing me the canned goods, I easily placed them on the upper shelf. When I had finished, I turned around to find her sitting down at her kitchen table, peeling one of the bananas. "Sure you don't want to share one?"

The way she peeled it, slowly, then inserting just the tip of it inside her mouth before nipping it off was the most sensual, erotic thing I had ever witnessed. Her robe was still parted, still concealing her breasts, though not by much. When she crossed her legs, my eyes immediately followed that movement. I'd seen the movie 'Basic Instinct' with Sharon Stone in it. It was one of the few sex movies as we called them that our local video store actually carried and rented. I had paused that particular scene over and over, watching Sharon spreading her legs, actually baring her pussy. But even that was nothing in comparison to the way Mrs. Green did it. When she first uncrossed her leg, she literally spread them apart for a much longer moment, before lifting it up, giving me an even wider panoramic view of her blushing split. And, there was absolutely no doubt where my eyes were still focused when she finished doing that either. Looking up, she licked her lips, and then inserted the banana deep within her mouth without taking a bite, obviously sucking it.

"Ever had a woman do that to you?" she asked bluntly.

The fact of the matter was, I really was still a virgin. I'd gotten to second base a time or two with a few girls, but never past that.

"No. Never have," I said surprising myself, though my voice sounded a whole octave higher. I wondered if she could detect the nervousness in my voice.

Taking the second, as yet unpeeled banana, she playfully passed it back and forth between her hands.

"So, did you see me in the store the other day with the cucumber?" she asked pointedly.

Admittedly, I was excited as hell. I began to wonder if she was actually going to shove that second banana inside herself for me. Something I now found myself desperately wanting to see. Her question had also made it obvious. She wasn't just fishing here. She knew I had seen her of course. What she was doing, or so it appeared, was an attempt to find out if I was brave enough, bold enough, to tell her that I had.

"Yes. I did," I said smiling, even grinning a moment later. "But not as good as I would have liked too," I added, surprised at my sudden newfound courage. I saw both of her eyebrows raise over that one. Obviously, I'd scored a few points.

"Oh really? You liked seeing that did you?" she asked me, once again doing her Sharon Stone routine.




Mrs. Green



"I liked it a lot," I said, trying to give her a Michael Douglas look, though at the moment, I couldn't for the life of me remember what he even looked like. I finally decided to throw caution to the wind, swallowing hard as I screwed up my courage. "I'd enjoy seeing you do that with your banana."

I had to find some moisture inside my mouth to say that one however. Nearly choking over my own statement as I wasn't sure how far she was willing to let me push this with her. By way of an answer however, she then lowered her crossed leg, lifting the other, where she placed the flat of her foot directly upon the seat of the chair. In so doing, she spread herself far more than lusty old Sharon had done. I then watched as she lowered the banana, licking her lips, and ran just the tip of it up and down the furrow of her near hairless mound.

"Was that more along the lines of what you had in mind?"

I felt my prick lengthening. As I tended to wear fairly tight Levi jeans anyway, I knew it was pointless to cover my rapidly growing condition. And May picked up on that as well, seeing the sudden bulge in my jeans as it continued to develop. She began to slowly insert the green-tinged banana inside her pussy. Moaning softly as she did.

"Bet you've never fucked a woman before either. Have you?" she stated as she slid nearly the entire length of that banana inside her wet quim. It wasn't necessary for me to answer her either, as she did for me. "No. I'm sure not. But I bet you've wondered about it plenty of times. Probably played with yourself a number of times too, just thinking about it. You have...haven't you." 

It wasn't really a question, more of a direct accusation. I merely nodded my head in acknowledgement of that fact. Mrs. Green continued to slip the banana in and out of herself until I began hearing a real moist 'squishy-wet' sound emanating from within her pussy.

"You like the way that sounds?" she asked, making it even louder somehow as she did it.

My prick was painfully wedged against the front of my Levi's now. "Awesome," I commented. Which made her laugh out loud.

"Feeling a little uncomfortable are we?"

She was glancing at the front of my jeans again. It really was painfully obvious the condition I was in. "Would you like me to take care of that for you?"

My moment of truth had arrived. I'd wondered on and off all the way over if something like this might actually happen. And up until that very moment, I truly had no idea how I'd respond, or what I'd do if it did.

"Yes," I said meekly. 

"Yes what?" she demanded. "Tell me exactly what you'd like me to do for you." 

"I'd like you...to, to touch me," I said somewhat hesitantly.

"Is that all? Just touch you? I can certainly do that. But if that's all you really want, then I must say, I'm very, very disappointed in you."

Finding my courage once again, I drew in a deep breath, though I blurted more than told her what it was I really wanted.

"I want to fuck your pussy!" I said.

"Oh? You would huh? In other words, you're offering me your virginity. Is that right? Is that what I'm hearing you asking me?"

"Yes. I want you to take my virginity!" I retorted. "And, I want you to suck me. And, I want to lick your pussy. And..."

Now she really was laughing. "Whoa there boy. Hold on for a moment, one thing at a time. Why don't we both go upstairs to the bedroom where we can get a lot more comfortable?" she asked coquettishly. Which reminded me almost immediately, just where the hell was her husband at anyway? I almost lost my erection when I thought about that.

"Aren't you worried someone might catch us?" I asked.

"He's out of town on business. And, not that it's really any of your business, but he and I don't have sex anymore. He can't. So he knows about my tiny little indulgences. Including my 'veggie-fetish'. As long as I provide him with a good home-cooked meal, look good hanging on his arm at dinner parties, he looks the other way, and could care less about what it is I do in order to satisfy myself sexually. 

I still thought that was pretty weird, but I followed her upstairs to the bedroom anyway.

"Nick's never going to believe this!" I thought to myself.

"Undress," she said the moment we stepped into her room. She began doing so, which didn't take much as she merely finished undoing one or two button's on her silk gown before allowing it to drop to the floor revealing her nakedness. As I began removing my shirt, unzipping my jeans, hopping up and down on one leg while attempting to remove them, I continued to eye her as she moved over to sit down on the edge of the bed, watching me. She began toying with her split while I stripped off my socks, finally pulling down my briefs revealing my erection to her for the first time.

"Oh my. That really is a nice specimen of a cock Rick. Why don't you bring it over here so I can kiss it?"

Like one magnet drawn to another, I followed my erection the short distance across the room until I was standing before her at the foot of the bed. I was enjoying the sight of those incredible knockers of hers, wanting badly to reach down and play with one. But the sensation of her mouth as she surrounded the head of my prick put that last thought on hold for the time being.

"Holy fuck!" I exclaimed. "Shit that feels good!" 

May continued mouthing my prick and I began to worry that I was going to give her an unexpected mouthful if she continued. "Enough of that for now," she said removing it. Obviously, she was very well aware of a 'first-time' experience, especially for someone as naïve as I was.

"Why don't I show you how to lick pussy?" she stated, already sliding back up on the bed, spreading her legs apart as she did. "After you give me an orgasm, we'll see what we can do about your virginity."

Like a duck to water, I moved up between her legs, extending out my tongue tentatively, totally unaware of what to expect, and unprepared for what awaited me as well. Locating her nubbin of pleasure without any help or direction, I began flicking it with the tip of my tongue. May grabbed a hand full of my hair, pressing me even more firmly against herself, nearly suffocating me. But I latched onto her clit, sucking it. 

"Damn Rick. You're a natural borne pussy-eater!" she exclaimed joyously. 

What I lacked in experience, I certainly made up for in enthusiasm. I continued to suck her clitoris, alternating between doing that and tonguing her split. 

"Stick a finger in. Finger-fuck me!" she now demanded. Slipping in my middle finger, I palmed her, slipping my finger in and out of her cunt rapidly, matching the tempo with the continued assault upon her clit with my tongue and lips.

"That's it! That's it! Make me cum!" she wailed. "Oh...fuck yes. Make me cum Rick! Make...me...CUM!" she cried out in pleasure as she certainly did.

My face was drenched, slick with her pussy juices. Rolling over onto the bed next to her, I fought briefly trying to catch my breath. She however, had other ideas, immediately rolling over, and then sitting on top of me. Before I even knew what had happened, I felt my penis slip far more easily inside of her than I would have ever expected. But then again, she was extremely well lubricated. 

With her positioned as she was, I finally got to place my hands on both of her luscious looking tits. I began playing with them to my hearts content, all the while she slowly fucked herself up and down against me. The feel of that succulent silken passage was already threatening to unleash a torrent of cum-cream from my balls. But...she knew that too. Expertly, she stopped, biding her time, waiting patiently for the sensation to pass before starting up all over again.

"Don't worry. After you cum the first time, you won't come nearly as fast, or as soon the second time."

"The...the second time?" I asked.

"Yeah, you would like to know what it's like to cum in a woman's mouth wouldn't you?" she asked me.

A very short time after that, I was filling a woman's pussy with my cum-juice for the very first time. Twenty minutes later, I was squirting another heart-felt delicious load inside her mouth too. I was way past the time where I knew I was expected back. And figured I would indeed be in a hell of a lot of trouble with Mr. Slater. Denise would certainly enjoy knowing that. But as Mrs. Green lovingly fondled my prick, once again bringing life back in to it, I figured it was certainly well worth it. That, and the fifty-dollar tip I got for making the trip out to her place.

Every Saturday thereafter, I shopped, and delivered her groceries. The only thing I did differently, was ensuring I did so after putting in my regular shift. That way, Mrs. Green and I had all the time in the world to explore our sensuality with one another. That, and whatever selection of 'veggies' that I had decided to bring with me.

"By the way Rick?  Tell your friend Nick, that if he still wants to see me use another one of those cucumbers again sometime, that he should pick out something special and bring it along with him."

I told him that. But he didn't believe that one either.



Mrs. Green & Her Son Bobby



Author's Note : This story is a response to the many readers who asked for it. I hope it pleases them. To those who have not followed the previous stories, this is the seventh in the series about Mrs. Green. You may want to read the series Denny & Mrs. Green first. 

* * * * *

Joanne Green arrived back at her suburban home 15 minutes after leaving Hooker's Alley. She was hoping to sneak into the 2 storey back-split without her son, Bobby, spotting her. She knew that she would never be able to explain the hooker outfit that she had on. He already had called her a whore and a slut when he had caught her fucking his best friend, Dennis. Indeed, she would have had no defence, as Dennis, her young lover, had somehow coerced her into acting out the part. 

On top of that she had allowed herself, while still playing the role, to do it with that young college student, Brad, which in turn had caused her to be blackmailed into having sex with the despicable Bill Drake. Even the taxi ride back to her car had resulted in her being forced to give a blow job to the cab's 62 year old driver. 

She felt totally ashamed of her actions. Not so much that she had been forced into making love to strangers but that she had somehow actually enjoyed the sex acts. How could she face Bobby if he ever found out her mother secretly was a whore or at least acted like one! She promised herself that if she could just get into the house without Bobby catching her she would never put herself in such an untenable position again. Indeed she vowed that she would go back to making Bobby proud that she was his mother just as he had been before that mistake with his young friend, Dennis. 

She knew that she had been weak but was determined to keep her libido in check. That meant of course that she could not carry on her affair with Dennis. She hoped that she could keep herself from desiring his hard young body in the future. 

As luck would have it, the house was deserted when she arrived. Breathing a sigh of relief she quickly raced up the stairs to her bedroom and divested herself of the provocative clothes. She picked them up off the floor and hung them in the deepest part of her walk-in closet before heading in to have a shower. 

As the warm spray teemed down on her 38 year old body, the events of the past few days started to run through her mind. Unfortunately, as much as she tried to fight it, she started to remember the tender touches and kisses that her two young lovers had given her. She started to visualize their long hard cocks and unknowingly, she started to lick her lips. Her pussy started to get wet and she started to finger herself. Playing with her clit led to her spreading her pussy lips apart and inserting first one, then two and then three fingers into her cunt. 

Her free hand massaged her firm tits and the nipples became hard. She couldn't believe what she was doing. She was masturbating! She had not played with herself since she had been a teenager. At first she felt disgust at what she was doing but as the waves of pleasure rushed over her she consoled herself by noting that this would be a good way to keep herself from feeling the need to contact Dennis. She marvelled again at how easy it was for her to justify her sexual activities now. 

Joanne let her senses take over and her fingers brought her to a particularly vocal orgasm. "Fuck!! Oh fuck!! OHHHHHH!" she cried at the top of her lungs and then panicked. "What if Bobby was home now and had heard her?" She turned off the water and listened. Hearing nothing she figured that she was safe but scolded herself nevertheless. 

Unknown to Joanne, Bobby had arrived home minutes before and had heard the sound of the shower running. In fact when she was having her loud, intense orgasm, he was actually just outside the bathroom door listening. For a brief second, his anger soared as he figured that she must be in the shower fucking some guy. He had a sudden image of his former best friend, Dennis, sticking his cock into his mother's cunt. He almost broke down the door but thought better of it. 

"What if I'm wrong?"he thought. "If I break the door down and she's by herself, I'd look awfully foolish! Besides, " he continued, "she'd be in the nude and I'd totally embarrass myself and her for over-reacting. " Bobby decided that he would just wait by his bedroom door and see if she came out by herself or with someone else. Then he could decide what course of action to take. 

Figuring that Bobby was still out for the night, Mrs. Green emerged from the bathroom into the hallway with a towel wrapped around her wet, long, blonde hair and her terrycloth robe opened. Seeing Bobby standing outside her doorway startled her so much that she forgot that her robe was open. 

Bobby's eyebrows rose sharply as he saw his mother's breasts bounce as she stepped into the hallway. As she came to an abrupt halt, his eyes couldn't help but gaze downwards to her golden pubic hair that sparkled with a few remaining water droplets. They both froze with sharp intakes of breath and at that moment time actually stood still. 

Neither of them moved. The tension in the air was formidable. Finally, Mrs. Green seemed to come out of her stupour when she noticed that Bobby's eyes were glued to her pelvis. She looked down at herself and screeched, "Oh my god!" and pulled the sides of the robe closed as fast as she could. 

"I... I... thought.. you... weren't.. home... I.. I.. didn't... "she sputtered but realized she didn't know what to say. 

Bobby looked devastated. He was totally embarassed when he realized he had been staring at his mother's bush and she had noticed it. "I'm sorry mom, " was all he could get out of his suddenly very dry throat. He turned quickly and retreated into his bedroom closing the door behind him. 

Silence filled the house as Mrs. Green stood there looking at the closed door. She didn't know what to do. Should she go to Bobby or should she retreat to her own bedroom? Standing there holding her breath she was amazed that she started to visualize what she would do if she went to her son. She started to get moist between her legs and her nipples hardened again. "What am I thinking?"she chastised herself. "How can I be aroused by my own son? I've got to get a grip!"

With that she turned on her heel and forced herself to go back into her own bedroom. Breathing uneasily she started to towel dry her hair but images of Bobby kept appearing. When had these incestuous sexual feelings started to appear in her subconcious mind she wondered and what was she going to do about it? 

Once again she started to caress herself. She was lost in a dream world when her eyes opened and she observed herself for the first time in the mirror. She was horrified at her own behaviour and stopped immediately. "You're out of control!"she admonished herself. "You're supposed to be the adult. Start acting like it. " With that she threw off her robe and fell into the bed and under the covers. 

It took her over an hour to finally drift off to sleep but it was an uneasy sleep as she dreamed erotic scenes involving many different faces. First it was Dennis in her bed who was replaced by an angry Bobby. Then the face in her dreams was Brad who was forced out of her blissful embrace by the violent Bill Drake. His laughing was shared by the face of the elderly cab driver. This finally forced her to wake up in a cold sweat. 

She lay there for the rest of the night unable to fall back to sleep. Tossing and turning, she anxiously awaited the morning light while she tried to decide how she was going to face Bobby. How would she end her relationship with Dennis? What if that bastard Bill Drake broke their deal and suddenly showed up ready to expose her via the porn video that she had unknowingly made with Brad?

Joanne wasn't the only one in the house who was having difficulty getting to sleep. After rushing back into his room, Bobby had tossed and turned for hours. He couldn't get the vision of his mother's pubic hair and her exposed breasts out of his mind. Things were happening to his body that he had no control over. He had an erection that wouldn't quit. He knew it was a sexual perversion to lust after one's mother. Yet since catching Dennis fucking his mother, he couldn't look at her without feeling this way. That's why he had started to drink excessively and to avoid her. He felt ashamed. 

He knew that it was normal for a teenage boy to have urges but everyone condemned incestuous relationships. The term motherfucker was a damaging and derogatory insult and he feared what his friends might think if he were to tell them of the thoughts and urges he was having. Society condemned anyone who thought that way. Yet he couldn't help himself. 

He had started to daydream about her. He was having difficulty concentrating at school. These thoughts had been occurring for a year now and that was why he was so livid when he caught his best friend Dennis screwing his mother. He wanted to do it. Dennis had beaten him to her and he was jealous. Dennis had taken something that should have been his. His mother belonged to him!

Although considered good-looking, girls his own age considered him weird because even though they had tried to interest him in them, he remained aloof. 

Bobby had commented to Dennis that Dennis' mother was a fox but he really had been secretly comparing her to his own mother. Both were attractive middle-aged women that had borne children in their teens and had looked after their figures as they grew into their thirties. 

Bobby scoped out his mother at every opportunity but his shame kept him from doing anything more than secretly looking in her underwear drawer. He tried to watch her at every opportunity but was paranoid that she would notice and take offense. He had tried to visualize her in the nude but that's all it had been – a fantasy. Until he had caught them in bed together using the language that only the women in porno flicks used. He hadn't seen much that day because he had been so mad but tonight he had seen it all. He was not disappointed. 

He had her image in his mind as he wacked off under the covers that night. Normally after he masterbated he would fall off to sleep. That did not happen this time. Within minutes of shooting his wad into the tissues that he kept by the bed, Bobby was hard again. He fought the urge to play with himself again but it was a losing battle and he ended up cumming again. 

When he did finally nod off he dreamed that he was a knight in shining armour arriving to save the fair damsel, Joanne, from that villain Sir Dennis. After slaying the double-crossing friend, his mother Lady Joanne, climbed aboard his white stallion and they rode off to his castle where he made passionate love to her all night long. When he awoke in the morning he found himself lying in a wet spot with sticky remnants of his cum on his thigh. 

Mother and son avoided each other that day. Mrs. Green left him a note saying that his dinner was in the microwave and that she was going to go to bed early as she had been having trouble sleeping. 

Bobby moped around the house trying to find something to take his mind off what was happening. He read a little but found that he could not concentrate so he turned the television on. Unfortunately the only thing that got his attention was an old movie called THE GRADUATE. In it a young man is seduced by an older woman. Needless to say this got a rise out of Bobby. 

He debated going up to his mother's room and forcing himself on her. His need was getting the best of him. He made his way upstairs and stood outside her bedroom trying to fight off the urge to burst in. He listened and thought he heard her breathing hard and calling out his name. Perhaps he could use this as an excuse to enter her room but then there was silence and he figured that he had probably just imagined what he wanted to hear. Disheartened and once again ashamed of himself, Bobby returned to his own room to seek release again. 

Meanwhile, Bobby's ears had not deceived him. Mrs. Green had given in to her primal urges and had just finished masturbating again. She had pictured her son Bobby making love to her when release came. Without realizing it, she had murmured Bobby's name out loud. 

Mrs. Green, after another long sleepless night, dressed and left for work earlier than normal. She feared that Bobby would be able to read her mind and never forgive her for her wicked thoughts. 

When Bobby awoke he was determined to face his mother and attempt to get their lives back to normal. He would apolgize for staring at her, forgive her for her indiscretion with Dennis and try to move on. He knew that his desire for his mother could lead to nothing but trouble and if he could only lust after her from afar than that's what he would do. He decided to tell her that he was going to move out of the house and into one of the dorms for the rest of the school year. 

Finding that she was already out of the house, Bobby grabbed some toast and headed off to the college to look into making dormitory arrangements. He hoped that getting into a dorm part way into the school year would not be too difficult. 

With the arrangements made, Bobby arrived home well before his mother. Now that he had set himself a course of action he found himself in a good mood and decided to surprise his mother by cooking dinner. 

He had just put on the potatoes when he looked out the kitchen window in time to see her climbing out of her Volvo. His breath was taken away when he saw her short skirt ride half way up her thigh as she stepped out. To make matters worse she leaned back into the car to reach for her purse which was on the passenger's seat. The tight skirt slid up until it barely covered her behind. His eyes took in the black garters that were holding up her dark stockings and he could almost see her panties but stunned he realized, "My god! She's not wearing any panties!" 

When she stood up, she smoothed down her skirt, turned and caught him staring at her. The raw look of lust on his face must have scared her as she looked frightened. They stood like that for a few seconds each wondering what the other was thinking. Finally, Mrs. Green although flushed recovered her composure and headed into the house. As she wondered what to say to him, she hoped that the events of her day were not apparent. 

Upon arriving at work she had read and signed quite a few but boring legal papers. After checking and sending out several e-mail messages, her mind had started to wander again. 

Try as she might she couldn't prevent her mind from imagining sexual scenarios. Telling herself that she was only going to do some research and knowing she shouldn't, Mrs. Clark started to search the internet for information on sexual urges. After seeing many graphic pictures she ended up at an x-rated story site. At literotica. com she scrolled through many stories dealing with incest. As she read some of them she hiked up her short skirt, removed her panties and started to play with herself. She fantasized that it was she and Bobby in these stories. 

She was breathing heavily from her first orgasm when the ringing of the phone startled her. Upon picking up the receiver, she found herself pleasantly surprised to hear Dennis' voice. Much to her dismay, her resolve to end her relationship with Dennis flew out the window when he started smooth talking. She couldn't believe her own ears when she suggested that he meet her at a client's house in half an hour. She knew that the client was out of the country because she had been left with the house keys and the responsibility of trying to sell their home. 

Rushing to the home, she had just gotten in the door when the doorbell chimed. Dennis must have been waiting nearby. Opening the door, she found herself taking a quick look around to see if anyone was watching then pulled him inside and plastered herself against him. She was a woman on fire! She needed release! At this point in time, she truly believed that she had become a nymphomaniac and that it wouldn't have mattered who was at the door. She would have fucked anyone even if it had been the postman. 

The sudden assault had taken Dennis by surprise but he was equally aroused as it had been a couple of days without sex for him. The beautiful older woman dropped to her knees, pulled down his zipper and started to suck him off. She was in a feeding frenzy and as he looked down at his erect 8 inch cock disappearing into her mouth, he could see her fingering herself. 

It didn't take long before he was blowing his load into the deep recesses of her mouth. She didn't release his cock until she had swallowed every drop of cum. 

She knew that he would last longer now that he had had his initial release and she wanted, no she needed, him to satisfy her. She fell backwards pulling him on top of her and she felt his cock's resurgence. She realized that she wasn't wearing her panties and wondered for a millisecond when that had happened. 

In a flash they both tore off their clothes and each one's mouth reached for the other's sexual organs. They found themselves in the classic 69 position. This was new to both of them but they lapped each other as though they had been doing it forever. 

Dennis rolled them from their side position so that he was above her. He loved the feeling that he was fucking her mouth while he was spreading her cunt lips with his tongue. It didn't take long for the young mother to cum in his mouth. 

She sensed that he was getting ready to explode again so she pushed him off and told him that she wanted his cock in her. At this time he would have fucked any hole that was available. She pulled his cock into her womanhood and the fucking continued at a frenzied pace. Finally they both screamed as they came at the same time. 

Neither said anything and Mrs. Green felt totally ashamed of herself again. She made excuses that she had to get back to work and they left the residence separately. 

Now that she was about to face Bobby she hoped that he wouldn't ask her what she had been doing this afternoon. The memory of her afternoon's activities left her pussy wet again and she feared that he could smell the sexual fragrance that was coming from her pussy. 

Upon entering the kitchen she was pleasantly surprised to smell the aroma of dinner but before she could say anything she noticed the front of Bobby's pants. "My god!"she thought, "My son's got an erection! He must have been looking up my skirt when I reached back into the car. How will I explain my lack of panties if he asks?"

Fortunately, Bobby pretended that nothing was amiss and proceded to tell his mother about moving into the dorm. This news completely unnerved her and she asked that he reconsider. Over dinner they discussed the pros and cons but steered clear of the real reason that he felt the need to leave. The sexual tension in the air caused discomfort for both of them. Each caught the other ogling while they cleared the table and did the dishes together. When finished, Mrs. Green suggested that they watch a movie together. When he agreed, she told him to get a video ready while she went up to change. 

Bobby responded too quickly when he told her that she looked fine and not to change on his account. As soon as he had said it, they both remembered that she was not wearing undies and both blushed. Now she didn't know what to do. 

Before she could make up her mind Bobby grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room. Leaving her on the couch he crossed over to where the video collection was and picked out his mother's favourite movie Love Story. She almost cried right then because she knew that Bobby preferred action movies. The motherly pride she felt at the considerateness of her son warmed her heart and she fought the urge to leap up to hug him. 




Mrs. Green & Her Son Bobby



She was surprised that Bobby chose to sit in the arm chair off to her side instead of on the couch with her but then decided that it was probably a wise move on his part. Even though they had not spoken about it they both knew that the sexual tension in the air might be disastrous if they acted on their desires. Without discussing it they both sensed that they needed to control themselves or they might do something irreparable. 

The movie had its usual effect on Mrs. Green and she became so engrossed in the tragedy that was unfolding that she soon forgot that she had no panties on and curled her long legs under her butt. This was not lost on her son. 

He started to sneek furtive glances towards his mother and could not believe that this sexy woman was forbidden to him. His eyes devoured her heaving breasts as she started her usual crying jag. The short skirt had ridden up her thighs exposing the tops of her stockings. He couldn't believe that his mother was wearing a garter belt and wondered how long she had been wearing one. He certainly never remembered her doing it before. 

The movie was finishing and Bobby was sporting a huge hard on which he tried to conceal when his mother looked teary-eyed across at him. They both looked embarassed and the room became very quiet except for the white noise coming from the television now that the movie had ended. 

Mrs. Green finally got her feelings under control and jumped up saying that she was tired and was going to head for bed. She crossed over to Bobby and leaned over to give him a quick good-night kiss on the cheek. When she did she saw his eyes looking down the front of her blouse. 

Bobby turned his face upward at the wrong time and his mother's lips landed smack on his. Even though the kiss was innocent it embarassed Mrs. Green and caused her to lose her balance and while trying to keep from falling over her right hand fell into Bobby's lap. He couldn't hide his hard on now. Her hand had landed right on it. Dislodging her hand too quickly out of embarassment, Mrs. Green totally lost her balance and tumbled on top of her son knocking both of them onto the floor. 

Her skirt had risen above her waist now and Bobby couldn't miss it because her exposed bush was only inches away from his face. There's only so much a young man can withstand and Bobby's hand shot out and started to touch her exposed pussy. Mrs. Green groaned and remained in this position momentarily enjoying his fingers massaging her womanhood. 

"No Bobby, " she admonished. "This isn't right. I'm your mother. You shouldn't be doing this. It's not right!" Her words belied her actions however as she suddenly felt an orgasm building in her loins. She locked his fingers between her legs even as she spoke the words, "Please Bobby. Don't do this. Please... " 

Unfortunately he couldn't have stopped even if he'd wanted to which by now he realized was impossible. What was going to happen was going to happen. He rolled her onto her back and while continuing to finger her he started to kiss her neck and fondle her breasts with his free hand. 

She struggled half-heartedly knowing that there would be no going back if she allowed this to happen. Things would never be the same. "Oh but the feeling is so wonderful!"she thought as she tried to convince herself to give in. 

Bobby kissed his way down her body. Somehow he had opened her blouse and he gave soft kisses to the exposed mounds of her breasts. The half bra that she wore only pushed up and emphasized the round firm boobs. For a brief moment he wondered how she had received the hickeys that stood out on each breast but this thought was quickly replaced by the realization that he was about to suckle one of his own mother's breasts that he had fed on as a baby. 

He tried to swallow the whole tit and got great joy out of going from one to the other. He was so turned on by the fact that he was sucking his own mother's breasts that he wanted to devour them. Indeed she had to plead with him to be more gentle. He looked down into her beautiful face as he cupped a breast in each hand. "I love you mom!" he cried. Instinctively her hands automatically went up and around his neck to draw him closer as she caressed him. 

Her resistance was waning but she knew she had to try again to stop him. "Please Bobby!" But Bobby misunderstood and took her statement as a sign that she wanted him to continue. Indeed her actions certainly encouraged him. She moaned and opened her legs to let him lie between them. The inside of one of her legs started to caress his leg pulling him into her. His mouth left her breasts and kissed her tanned flat stomach while one hand searched out her womanhood again. 

While rolling on the carpet her skirt had slid up over her buttocks. Kissing his way farther south, Bobby finally found his face only inches away from his mother's golden pubic hair. She smelled wonderful and he buried his face in her bush. His tongue flicked out to taste her clitoris and she groaned again. 

The battle against her conscience was over. She knew that she had to give into the intense sexual feelings that Bobby had awakened. She completely lost any semblance of propriety. She wanted her son to fuck her. She spread her legs as wide as possible totally exposing her son to her womanhood. She pulled his head toward her cunt and encouraged him to "Eat me Bobby! You've got me so turned on! Suck my cunt! EAT ME... MUTHERFUCKER!!"

Such language from his own mother shocked Bobby initially but he was spurred on by the knowledge that his own mother was begging him to do her! He lavished kisses on her outer lips and parted them with his tongue. He was totally caught up in the excitement of the moment and he started to fuck her cunt with his tongue. He continued to knead her tits and to stroke her clitoris at the same time. He looked up into the wanton eyes of this jezebel who happened to be his mother. 

Faster and faster he licked and he could see his mother's eyes roll back in her head as she started the first of her orgasms. "OHHH... BOBBBYYYYY... SWEET... JESUS... YOU'RE.. MAKING... YOUR... MOTHER... COME!!OH.. FUCKKKK!! SUCK... MEEEEE!!"

With that she arched her hips and pushed her pussy into his face while pulling his head down into her crotch. She locked her thighs around his head like a vise and released a torrent of pussy juice. Perhaps it was because what they were doing was so illicit but somehow her little boy had brought her to the most intense orgasm of her life!

Perhaps, due to his naivity, Bobby just carried on licking and sucking but she started to cum again. Still he didn't stop! Finally she pleaded with him to cease and literally had to pull his mouth away from her pussy. "Please Bobby! Give me a minute!"

Bobby sat back on his haunches and admired the provocative pose laying before him. His cock jutted out and up in front of him. He looked at it with pride thinking that it had never been bigger. He knew that it had certainly never been harder! He couldn't wait to stick his manhood into his own mother's pussy! He had been dreaming of this and now it was about to happen!

His mother's hands moved from her sides to her labia and softly caressed herself. Bobby took this as a sign that she was ready for his cock and he fell forward with his cock ready to enter the place that he had come from. 

Mrs. Green came out of her blissful state as Bobby's cock started to spread her cunt lips apart. "Oh no Bobby! We can't do that! We'll never forgive ourselves! Please Bobby stop!" With these words she reached down and grabbed his rod and kept him from penetrating her. 

The look on his face was incredulous. "Please mom! I've got to make love to you! Nobody will ever know! It'll just be our little secret! I love you, mom!" His sad eyes and wailful request almost got her to give in but somehow she held out. 

"No baby! No! It's a sin! I would never forgive myself and eventually you would hate me! We can't take that chance!" She started to pull herself out from under his muscular young body. 

"Please mom! Please Mom! It won't be like that!"he pleaded. This was not going the way he had envisaged it. He forcefully held her in place and moved his still raging hard-on back to the entrance that he coveted. He debated driving his cock in and living with the consequences but just as he was about to give in to his darkest desires he looked into her pleading blue eyes and saw the tears forming. Something inside his head forced him to realize that he was about to rape his own mother! This woman who had given birth to him and had raised him basically by herself. Was this how he was going to repay her? Force himself on her?

"I know you have needs Bobby. I'll help you but please I can't let you fuck me!" She shocked herself with her own choice of words. It was one thing to use language like that in the throes of passion but she had never used that word with Bobby. Of course they were into the realm where they had never gone before. Mrs. Green looked at Bobby's forlorn face and then down to his still rock hard cock. She grasped his tool in both hands and started to pull on it and wring it with her fingers at the same time. "Let me do this for you, Bobby!"

As much as he wanted to fuck his mother watching her give him a hand job certainly was having an effect on him. He grew even longer and harder if that was possible. His mother grabbed his scrotum and started to roll his balls around while she played with his cock. As much as he wanted to hold off he knew that he was close to cumming. The feeling grew with more intensity. Her hands were marvellous. They flew up and down, around and around, faster and faster. He was starting to feel the impending release. Sperm was already on its journey when he cried, "Oh fuck mom! You're making me cum! I'm... going... to... shoot!! Pull my cock faster!! Faster!! Oh god!! Squeeze my balls!! I'mmmmm... cummmm.. inggggg!"

As he finished this statement a white spray of cum shot out of the tip of his cock and flew right into his mother's face and into her blonde hair. The sudden force and intensity shocked Mrs. Green so much that her mouth opened in awe and as it did a second jet of cum blew from his dick and splashed against the roof of her mouth. This caused her to gag as a reflex and she couldn't stop herself from swallowing. The sticky cum slithered down her throat. A third jet though not as powerful as the first two hit her squarely in the eye. 

She recoiled slightly but did not release her son's spewing dick. She continued to pull on it and the last few gobs of cum were deposited on her bosom. Finally he was drained and she rubbed the last few drops around her nipples. 

"I love you mom!" were the last few words uttered by Bobby as he rolled onto his side totally spent. 

They both lay side by side cuddling for several minutes without either saying anything. Finally Mrs. Green broke the eery silence by saying that what they had done must never happen again and they must never speak of it. What they had done was a mistake – a wonderful mistake but it could never happen again. 

No matter how hard Bobby pleaded with her she couldn't be swayed and she finally grabbed her clothes and raced off to the safety of her room. Bobby followed and talking through the door continued his pleadings but she was adamant and he finally gave up and headed off to his bed. 

He didn't know that while he was pleading his case, his mother was standing right on the other side of the door fighting her own demons. She wanted him but could only see disaster if she gave in. They had gone too far tonight and it must never happen again but as she tried to sleep the vision of his hard cock hovering over her and the memory of how he had made her come with just his tongue was impossible to forget. 

The next morning was extremely awkward. Bobby tried to grope his mother at breakfast when he approached her while she was at the kitchen sink. He put one hand on her breast and his other hand on her butt. Both felt marvellous and he had an immediate erection which he pushed into the crack between her ass cheeks. But as tempted as she was she eluded his hands and begged him to stop. Taken aback after what had happened last night Bobby was hurt. 

As hard as it was, she knew that she wouldn't be able to keep herself from making love to him if they continued to stay under the same roof so she grudgingly told him that moving into the dorm might be the right thing to do. It would give them both a chance to re-evaluate what was happening. They couldn't destroy their mother and son relationship by having sex. 

He pleaded with her to give it a chance but she remained adamant. Finally in a rage, he stormed upstairs and threw some clothes into a duffel bag. He glared at her as he passed her on his way out the front door. He didn't even notice her tears. 

The next few days went by slowly. Mrs. Green even forced herself to keep from seeing a displeased Dennis. She couldn't work and was miserable. The house was like a tomb. Finally she knew she had to contact Bobby just to see how he was making out in the dorm. That's all she was interested in she told herself. Not trusting herself to see him at home, she phoned the dorm and invited him to meet her at Waldo's Restaurant for dinner. He was ecstatic to hear her voice and readily agreed. 

Bobby arrived first and was shown to a booth near the back. A few minutes later he looked up from his menu to see his beautiful mother coming his way. He saw the admiring glances that came her way from many of the male patrons. He could certainly see why. She looked fabulous. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her bare shoulders. She was wearing a short blue cocktail dress that was only being held up by two thin spaghetti straps. Her ample bosom was exposed just enough to tease any male in the place and it did. The short dress swayed back and forth as she strode towards him in the clear open-toed high-heeled pumps. That now familiar stirring rose in his loins. 

He stood up to kiss her and both felt awkward when she turned her cheek for the buss. They complemented each other on their appearance but it took a few drinks before they both started to relax. After dinner the band started to play some old standards that Mrs. Green started to hum along with. Seeing his chance Bobby stood up and offered his hand and asked, "Would m'lady care to dance?" Not giving her an opportunity to answer, Bobby prodded her up and out onto the dance floor. 

At first he held her at arm's length but as the evening wore on and after they had had a few more drinks, she moved in for a closer embrace. She started to feel a little tipsy and rested her head on his solid shoulder. She closed her eyes and swayed to the music. This only brought their groins into contact and Bobby, being a typical, horny young male started to get an erection. Since she didn't pull back, he took it as a sign and when she raised her arms up and around his neck, his hands slid down her back until they cupped her buttocks. 

He looked around to see if any one else was watching but every one else seemed to be in their own little worlds. He started to feel her ass and to pull her even tighter against his rapidly inflating cock. They danced like this for several songs and she started to nuzzle against his neck. Her erect nipples were pushing through the thin material of her dress. 

It was like she had forgotten that she was dancing with her son. This young man was making her feel like a desireable woman. Could it be wrong when it felt so good? Couldn't she for one night pretend that she was out on a date? Finally the band announced that they were playing their last song and Mrs. Green wished that the evening would never end. 

Bobby broke her dream-like state by whispering, "Come on, mom, it's time to go home. " as he escorted her to her car. 

After helping her into the passenger seat and starting the car for the drive to their house, she seemed to realize what was happening and said, "No Bobby. Don't spoil such a beautiful evening. We can't go to our house. Take me to the dorm and I'll drive home from there. " As much as he protested, Mrs. Green stood firm. 

Arriving at the dorm she shocked him by saying, "Well, aren't you going to invite your old mom up to see your room?" Without waiting for an answer Bobby's mom jumped out of the car and literally ran into the dorm with Bobby in hot pursuit. "It's Room 308 right?"she cried out as she raced up the stairs. Bobby could only follow but as he did he could see right up her short skirt to see that she was wearing the tiniest of black thong panties. 

As they passed 3 young college guys coming down the stairs, one of them said to Bobby as they passed, "Wow that's some hot foxy chick you've got there Bobby! Looks like she can't wait to get to your room to fuck! Throw one into her for me!" He laughed as he said it and Bobby almost stopped to wipe the smirk off his face. 

Another boy, while looking up at the ascending woman's displayed ass added, " Man, can I come up too? She looks experienced enough to handle both of us and probably all four of us. She looks so fine I wouldn't even mind sloppy seconds or thirds or fourths!" The laughter came from all three guys. 

Bobby answered with a raised one-finger salute as he passed them. 

Finally he caught up with his mom who was catching her breath just outside his door. Her magnificent breasts were heaving from the exertion and she was bent over at the waist which of course exposed the valley between her breasts to Bobby's prying eyes. 

Looking around Bobby quickly opened the door and they escaped into his private sanctuary. Complimenting her son on the spartan accomodations, Mrs. Green plopped down on the couch and Bobby landed beside her. Soon he was all over her. His hands massaged her breasts through the thin material of her dress and he started kissing her neck and then her ears and finally her lips. 

She cooed in response and her hands reached down to stroke his cock through his jeans. They sucked on each other's tongues like two lovers who had been separated for years. He pulled down the bodice of her dress and licked both tits. He couldn't get enough of these firm kissable breasts. He placed his nose in the valley between them and squeezed both breasts simultaneously. He was in heaven. He drank in his mother's fragrance. Obviously she had placed drops of her perfume in the valley while dressing. 

While suckling on a breast he reached down and rubbed his mother's crotch through the material of her dress. He could tell that there was only two pieces of thin material separating him from his goal. He pulled her dress up over her waist and started fingering her clit through her panties. She was sopping wet and he knew that she would not deny him tonight. He was going to fuck his mother finally!

When Bobby grabbed her panties and started to push them to the side, Mrs. Green said, "Wait Bobby let Mommy take them off!" With that she stood up and pulled her dress off over her head. Standing in front of her son she beamed with pride when his eyes devoured her mature body. "Do you like what you see, Bobby?"she asked. All he could do was nod and reach out for her. 

Her stepping back made him think for a second that she was going to back down again but this time she slowly pushed her thong panties down her legs and posed seductively in only her stockings and high heels. 

Kneeling at her feet, Bobby looked up past her prominent chest into her sparkling blue eyes and said, "God you're beautiful!" With that he reached forward, grabbed her hips and pulled her mound into his face so quickly that she almost fell over top of him. His tongue started to taste her womanhood and before long she knew that she was about to have a spine-tingling orgasm. 




Mrs. Green & Her Son Bobby



"OH... GOD... BOBBY... YOU'RE... MAKING... MEEEE... CUMMM!!" 

With that she locked her fingers in his hair and pulled his face even tighter into her groin. Once again his face was covered in her cum juice. Her legs felt weak but her son wasn't finished. He turned her around and bent her over towards the couch. Then Bobby attacked her pussy with his tongue from behind her and before long she was having yet another orgasm. 

All of Mrs. Green's good intentions were long forgotten. She had figured that as long as they met in a public place and stayed away from being together in the privacy of their home, she could keep their unnatural feelings towards each other at bay. The drinks to cover her nervousness had had the opposite effect. The sensuous dancing had brought her incestuous thoughts to the surface. She mistakenly assumed that by going back to his dorm would keep her from acting on the desires that had been building up in her loins. She knew by the feel of his hard cock against her body while they were dancing that she would have to be the one in control. 

However her resolve had disappeared probably due to the drinks but also because her son looked so handsome. When they had arrived at the dorm she suddenly became the aggressor! She knew that no matter what society said she was going to fuck her son. She decided not to hold anything back and to worry about the consequences later. The fact that her son was such a considerate and capable lover prompted her to want to make this experience one that he would never regret because she realized that he of course would never forget it. No boy ever forgets fucking an older more experienced lover and certainly no boy would ever forget fucking his own mother. 

Bobby had not rushed her. He had brought her to several orgasms already. She was determined that now she would service him like no other woman could. For a split second she wondered if she was Bobby's first. He certainly knew how to please a woman. Where had he learned his breathtaking skills. Had he been taught by an older woman just as she had tried to teach Dennis? They had never discussed his girlfriends or his having had sex. When this escapade was done she promised herself that she would take the time to learn every intimate detail of his life. 

"Sit on the couch Bobby, "she ordered. "I want to do you! Your tongue has given me incredible pleasure and I want to do the same for you! I want to taste you. Forgive my language but I want to suck the cum right out of my little boy's cock and then I want you to fuck me until I beg for mercy! This will be a night we will both treasure because we're not just fucking, we're making love!" 

The goofy grin on Bobby's face as he pulled his pants off made him look like he had looked the day he told her about his first kiss. He looked so young and so handsome. His rock hard cock stood up at attention and getting on her knees, Mrs. Green started to lick her way up and down the shaft. She playfully squeezed his testes and tenderly touched the purple tip. Pre-cum was leaking out and she lapped that up. Opening wide she slowly engulfed the head and started to suck as much as she could into her mouth. 

"Look at me while you do that Mom, " he urged. 

Her eyes devoured his as she lovingly looked up. Gradually she was able to accommodate more and more into the cavity. When it seemed to be too much she would slide her lips back towards the glans and then start the process all over again. Somehow she was able to lick his cock while it was still in her mouth and he started to groan. 

He was getting closer to blowing his wad and he warned his mother that she should release him or he would cum in her mouth. 

She let his cock slip out of her mouth only long enough to encourage him. "It's okay, son, I want you to cum in my mouth! I want to taste your juice like you tasted mine! And when you've finished giving me your hot cum I want you to rub your cock all over my face!" Without further ado, Mrs. Green started to suck her son's young cock into her mouth again. This time she relaxed her throat muscles sufficiently and she was able to get his entire 9 inches into her mouth. 

Her cheeks were swollen outwards with his cock and when his pubic hair was rubbing up against her cheeks Bobby knew that he was going to release his load. He grabbed the back of her head and held it firmly so that she could not move as he drove his loins forcefully into her face. 

"Fuck... oh... fuck... Mommmm... I'm... cummm.. inggg! I'm... fuck.. inggg... my... own... mother's... face!! SUCK IT ALL BITCH!! EAT YOUR SON'S CUM!!" With this mighty roar he released a floodwater of cum deep into her throat and as he continued to pump even more in and out of her mouth, he could see her throat swallowing it. Small amounts started to escape from the corners of her mouth and ran down her chin and onto her hand that had been holding his cock. 

When he was spent she continued to suck and he groaned almost in pain. Finally his cock fell out with a plop and he was treated to her licking his cum off her hand. Refusing to release his semi-flaccid cock she rubbed the end all around her face. 

Bobby collapsed back onto the couch and looked down at the wanton woman kneeling between his legs. He could see that even as she continued to pull his cock up and down she was fingering herself at the same time. This beautiful woman was his mother and he loved her. He now knew why his former friend, Dennis, had fallen victim to her charms. She was incredible! He knew that he couldn't wait to fuck her. He didn't have to wait long. 

"Bobby, I know I said we shouldn't and I know we're playing with fire but if you still want to fuck me I won't try to stop you. I seem to have lost my ability to control my sexual needs lately. Don't think badly of me please. It's not too late to stop and I know I'm the one that should not be allowing this to happen but if there's any chance that you won't love and respect me afterwards I'll respect that. I couldn't live without your love. " She waited breathlessly for his response. 

Her son's penis started to refill with blood and stood straight up from his crotch. Both of them looked at it and laughed. "What does that tell you Mom? I'll only love you more not less. This will bring us even closer. Please fuck me Mom! I love you and I always will!"

His mother raised his legs up over her head and started to lick his hair covered testes. She shocked him by taking first one and then the other right into her mouth and rolling each ball back and forth like a marble. After pleasuring him like this she forced his legs up even higher and ran her tongue from the testicles to his anus. She still couldn't believe that she was about to stick her tongue into his ass but more importantly that it was a turn-on for her as well. When she started to force her tongue into his asshole he groaned in ecstacy. 

"Mom what are you doing? Oh my god don't stop! That's so fucking good! Lick it Mom! Eat your son's asshole!"

The obscene language which they both normally abhorred served to turn them both on even more. 

Finally, Mrs. Green rose up off her knees and rubbed her breasts across his hardened cock. Drops of pre-cum lubricated the valley between them and she started to hump herself against his wet dick. Bobby was in his glory as he looked down at this blonde goddess tantalizing him. 

With a wanton look and a sexy smile she rubbed her breasts right up his chest until they were in his face. He lavished kiss after kiss on each of them and tried to swallow each one as far into his mouth as possible. Mrs. Green raised her hips up, grabbed his cock and placed it at the entrance to her cunt. "Now Bobby! Fuck me now, Bobby! Fuck your mother like she's never been fucked before!" She lowered herself onto his manhood and they both groaned with pleasure. Although she still felt guilt about fucking her son the feelings were just too wonderful to stop. 

Up and down she raised herself on his organ. Over and over again. Meanwhile Bobby had latched his mouth on a nipple and sucked and sucked. He realized that he was finally fucking the woman that had given birth to him and despite what society might say he was going to do it at every opportunity. 

Mrs. Green started to cum but Bobby kept plugging his tool into her. She came again and he still continued. He was trying to make this last as long as possible and the blow job that his mother had given him had enabled him to hold out far longer than such a young stud would normally be able to. But nature finally started to win out and he could feel the cum start its epic journey from his balls. 

"HERE... IT... CUMS... MOM!!I'M... FUCKING... MY... MOTHER!!I'MMM.. GONNA... CUMMMM... IN... YOU... MOM!!"

He drove his hips up into her warmth as she ground her pussy down onto his shooting cock. "CUMMM.. INNNN.. MEEEE... MUTHERFUCKER!! FILL YOUR MOM WITH YOUR HOT JUICE!!I'MMMM... CUMMINGGGGG.. TOOOO!" 

Her central being was rocked by wave after wave of jets of cum filling her pussy. She shuddered with her own orgasms. Bobby kept pushing his hips up into her now cum-filled cavity until he felt totally drained. Finally she was spent too and he could feel wet rivulets of his cum escaping her cunt and sliding down the insides of his legs. 

They were both out of breath and it took several minutes for their breathing to return to normal. 

"That was fantastic Mom! It was better than I had ever imagined! I love you Mom when can we do it again?"

This brought another giggle from his mother. "Bobby, don't you need a little rest? The sex was so intense that you've tired out your old mother! Besides that it's late and I have to drive home. "

"You're not old Mom and I don't want you to go home tonight. I want you to share my bed and maybe after you've had a little sleep, we could do it again. As you can see, my cock is waking up again. "

They both looked down and Mrs. Green was astounded to see that Bobby's prick was indeed standing erect already. She laughed and agreed. "Well this old broad needs at least a little shut-eye before she tackles that fountain of youth again. Let's go to bed and after a little rest I promise I'll make love to you as often as you can keep that monster up. There are lots of different ways to make love and I can't wait to teach you them all. After all it's a mother's duty to teach her son new things. "

Mischievously like he was still a little boy, Bobby giggled, "We're already in bed Mom. This is a pull-out couch. "

To be continued...?