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A Slow Seduction of Jasmine Pilcher Ch. 01

By: atkins



I know I'm going to hell for what I tried to do and what I did.

I've learned to live with the guilt just as I live with the sad, sweet, depraved and glorious memories.

I don't figure I'm ever going to get over either. And maybe that's my real hell.

A few years ago I set my sights on Jasmine Pilcher, a most ordinary woman who came to my attention in a most unusual way. She was walking up to the choir loft at the Sunday 11 o'clock service offered by Pastor Ryan. She and I sing together – or used to sing together – every Sunday and sometimes at special Wednesday services too.

You couldn't meet a sweeter woman than Jasmine or a better friend. Although she had little money herself, she was always eager to help out a friend in need of a little extra cash, or a last-minute babysitter or to cook a pie at the last minute if needed for a church social.

Jasmine used to be a really fine singer in her youth and now she was just okay. Although Jasmine was a friendly, outgoing person, when she sang she was all earnest intensity. No smiles and no joking. She had a cute little way of clearing her throat in a barely audible way when she finished a song. I liked that.

She was divorced from her first and only husband more than 12 years ago and now lived in a small home not too far from the church. She grew roses in the backyard, talked a lot with the neighbors and sometimes laughed in a way that was positively heart warming. Jasmine had two children and four grandchildren who lived about an hour away. She worked at a nearby production line assembling small wooden furniture pieces.

Despite her friendliness and great laugh, there was a real air of sadness about Jasmine. I don't think she ever got over her divorce and it was pretty much understood by everyone who knew her that she had nothing to do with men ever since the divorce.

And that seemed to be okay with her. I don't think the sadness I saw in her was due to loneliness. I think it was sadness at a life that had gone astray.

Jasmine was a heavy woman. Okay, she was fat. It's hard even now to write this because I like her so much and "fat" seems as much an insult as a description. But she was a heavy woman. She was only about 5-3 but she was big. She had puffy cheeks even when far thinner but now her heaviness seemed to accent them so that they almost looked like they were closing in around her eyes. They were pretty eyes but I've got to tell you: there were times when I looked into them and wondered if her face cheeks would close up over them and she would be sightless.

Good old Jasmine. Oh, yeah. I didn't say how old. She was about 57 or 58 at the time of my – how should I say it? – revelation.

You're probably wondering a little about me. Believe me, you'll be wondering a lot more before this story is over. My name is . . . let's just call me Fred. I'm in my early 30s and I'm vice president of a small company that produces specialized medical equipment used in large X-Ray machines. My father is the president and, some day, the good Lord willing and the creek don't rise, I'll be the boss. For now, I'm making some decent money but keep a pretty low profile. 

I have girlfriends but none at the time this story begins. I'm pretty active in the church, was defeated in a run for the local town council last year and am active in the local chamber of commerce and a few civic organizations. It's fair to say that everyone likes me but no one is overly impressed with me. I wish it were different, but that the way it is.

There is a dark side to me, however. I used to convince myself that it was just "my way" and that I was eccentric but now I'm pretty sure it's just a darkness. 

I'm well versed in these things, you see, and when I say darkness I'm simply talking about selfish disinterest in others. I hope you don't think I'm talking about being in league with the devil or murder or anything like that. I had to laugh out loud as I wrote that. That's far too ambitious a darkness for me. Heck, once when I was ticketed for driving 15 miles over the speed limit, I had to take the afternoon off I was so upset.

But the darkness is there. Lurking.

Frankly, I'm far too cautious to let it boil over. I mean, who knows what might happen? I keep a pretty tight rein on this "my way" thing. It bubbles and whistles and makes noise but I would never let it boil over. Not ever.

At least that's what I thought.

I hope you forgive me for getting off track. I have a hard time coming to the point. Sometimes this works to my advantage, as you'll see but I've been avoiding writing down the very thing that prompted this . . . bubbling over.

But I know what it was. I know exactly what it was.

It was me watching Jasmine Pilcher's very overweight ass climbing the steps to the choir loft. It was seeing the pantyhose clinging to the chunky legs. It was the hint of a white girdle leg far under the long red and black cotton skirt. It was the swish of her fat thighs rubbing against each other as she grabbed onto the handrail.

It was this sense of fleshy ordinariness combined with the sweet delight that is Jasmine Pilcher which ultimately led my dark pot to boil over. It was at that very moment that I knew I could never put a lid on this boiling. It was just too powerful. I remember that and I remember my face glowing. That's how it started.

"You look as tired as I am," said Jasmine, smiling. I was breathing hard, but not because of the climb. "I may not get my breath back until the sermon is over," I said. "I guess I'm getting old."

"You're a young man," she said, smiling. A little wistful, I thought.

Pastor Ryan was talking energetically about sin in his sermon. There was lots of motion today. Hands flying over his head showed the muddled, wanton mind of the sinner.

I knew exactly what he meant. My wanton mind was muddling over Jasmine Pilcher. I wanted to get my hands on her, to feel her soft, almost virginal flesh under my probing fingers. But it was more than that.

The truth is I wanted to debase her. God help me, that's the truth. I wanted to see this sweet, saintly woman hungering for me, thinking and doing things with me she couldn't even imagine.

The scale of this endeavor and the incredible challenge was daunting and quite seductive in its own way. Of course there was the obvious risk that I would be rebuffed, that our relationship would be forever uncomfortable or, worse, that word would get out. I would be ruined in the community.

On this last point, I wasn't much worried. Jasmine would never bring any kind of shame to herself, even if she was completely innocent. At most, she might tell a close friend but I even doubted that.

No. The real challenge in taking this great, innocent prey down to my dark level would be getting by her formidable defenses. And I'm not talking about her bulk in this case.

Unlike most women, Jasmine ('Jaz' to her friends) never flirted with men. She seemed intimidated by them, especially in one-on-one situations. There was no teasing. There were no sly grins. No one was going to misinterpret her intentions.

And her intentions were pure as, well, the driven snow. And, ironically, that very snow was going to help me out very soon.

On Wednesday, our choir practices in the church for Sunday's service. I had checked the weather and determined there was a situation that might work to my advantage. Snow was forecast. Lots of it.

There weren't too many at choir practice and by the time I got there, flakes were already falling. Jasmine was there wearing a big green and white sweater and a brown corduroy skirt that went down to her ankles. During a break, the choir director looked out at the growing snow on the ground and decided to cut practice short. I hadn't counted on that but decided to put Plan A into action anyway.

Jasmine looked out the window and seemed worried. "I'll take you home, Jaz," I said.

She smiled. "I appreciate it but you've got to get going yourself or you could get stuck in this stuff. You've got a long way to get home."

I shrugged. "Don't worry about it," I said. "You can't walk home in this. Get in the car while we can still find it in the parking lot."

Despite her bulk, Jasmine had a certain grace about her. She moved easily, sort of flowed, in fact. Still, she didn't want to fall on the sidewalk getting to the car. When we got outside, the sidewalk to the parking lot was snow-covered and I held out my arm. "Hang on," I said and she tentatively put her chubby paw through my arm. I quickly clamped it with my hand to hold her steady and she seemed to stiffen a little. This was one shy woman.

The snow was falling even harder by the time we got to her house. I helped her to her door and she didn't stiffen this time. That's progress, I decided. She offered me coffee, probably assuming I would pass so I could head for home. But she was wrong.

"Coffee? Yeah, you bet," I said. "I could use some warming up. Thanks."

I think I was in her home once before with some other members of the choir after a practice last year. Today just as then, it was neat as a pin. There were little craft-y things hanging all around. No dishes in the sink. Every pillow in place on the sofa. Doilies. Pictures of the grandkids. You get the picture.

"I love this place," I said. "It's so homey, so comfortable."

"Oh, it's nothing," she almost seemed embarrassed. Jasmine made some coffee while I watched the snow fly out the window. It was quite a storm. She poured me one cup, then another. She wasn't going to say anything but I could tell she wanted to get me out the door, for my sake if for no other.

I had anticipated my actions in this situation. The weather was just luck, of course, but this scenario was among my many plans for taking down Jasmine. Fortune, as they say, favors the prepared lecher.

We talked about this and that. It was all safe stuff. Grandkids, the new organist. At some point when she started to pour me another cup of coffee, I reached out and gently put my hand over hers. "No, that's enough for me," I said. She didn't jump when I did it. It's with such small steps that you mark progress in these matters.

There was no way I could go home in this weather. I knew it even if she didn't realize it yet. I said my good-byes before opening the door, then gave her a nice little A-Frame hug and thanked her for the coffee and the company.

She sniffed at this. "A young man like you must have lots of friends. You don't need to keep a woman old enough to be your mother company." I think she reddened a little at even saying this. "Anyway," she patted my cheek with her hand. It was soft but very cold. "You better be on your way. Gracious."

When I pushed open the door, the snow was piled up against it so it would barely open. My car, which I could barely see, was completely covered. It was obvious that I could not go out in this stuff.

"Oh, Lord," I said. "Can I use your phone for a minute, Jasmine?"

Now I had my cell phone in the car but that wouldn't work for the little game I wanted to play next. I took out the phone book and opened it to motels, then called my home phone and talked to my answering machine. "Yes, I'd like to get a room for the night. Just one night. Oh, anything, I don't care. Nothing? You've got nothing? Are you sure? Okay, thanks anyway."

I turned to Jasmine. "The Day's Inn down the street is booked up with people stranded in this storm. It's my own darned fault. I shouldn't have stayed so long. Stupid. STUPID." Yeah, sure. 

A Slow Seduction of Jasmine Pilcher Ch. 02



There were a hundred things going through chunky old Jasmine Pilcher's brain. It was obvious to anyone looking at her but I pretended I was wrestling with my options when, in fact, there were no options. I knew what had to happen and, eventually, so did Jasmine.

"You'll have to stay here," she said and promptly went to the closet to get out sheets, blankets and a pillow and put them on the sofa in the living room. It may have been subconscious but she was making it clear to herself as well as to me where I was going to be sleeping.

I protested. I touched her again and said 'there is no way' and on and on and then, finally, I relented.

So far, things were going as planned. I just had to bide my time. Haste, I knew, was my enemy. Caution and deliberation were my friends. And if I were lucky, sweet, innocent Jasmine would never be the wiser.

We talked some more and then I visibly yawned although it wasn't actually that late. Good old Jasmine took the hint, however.

"I guess you're tired," she said. "All this must be quite a strain on you."

Yeah, I thought. Practically a near-death experience. "A good night's sleep and I'll be fine," I said, patting the stiff sofa, then I stood up. I gave her a big hug and felt those great boobs pressing against me. "Thanks Jaz, this is really sweet of you." 

She seemed a little more comfortable and held me a little bit and patted my back, then she headed off to her bedroom. I wasn't sure what was going to happen next, maybe nothing, but I was going to stay on my toes.

I don't normally sleep in the nude but tonight I made an exception. As I stripped down, I felt a sense of freedom and even dominance. I know it was crazy but here I was naked just a few feet away from the fat old woman I most wanted to ravish.

There was a little nightlight illuminating the bathroom and I stretched out on the sofa so I could easily look in. After about 15 or 20 minutes – by which time I'm sure Jasimine thought I was asleep – I heard Jaz's bedroom door open and then saw her padding toward the bathroom.

In the dim glow of the nightlight I could see her form pass between me and the door. She was wearing a floor-length nightgown and I could briefly see her legs and tits when the bare light shone through. It excited me and emboldened me to the next step. I just needed an opportunity. Fortunately, Jaz gave it to me.

After a few minutes, the door opened. The overhead bathroom light was on which gave me an even better view of her voluptuous body. I could see her belly and huge, but very round, ass. She then turned out the light and something interesting happened.

Jasmine went back and turned off the nightlight. Interesting. And then, as soon as my eyes adjusted to the now total darkness, she stood in the doorway of the bathroom looking in my direction, staring at me lying naked in the dark. I saw her rub her right hand along the side of her nightgown. Before she could move, I determined a course of action.

In an instant, I was off the sofa and walking briskly toward the bathroom. Jaz was still there, apparently too startled to move. I reached out as if I was fumbling for the light and placed my hand on the expanse of her great right tit and felt around for a moment as though I was confused, then I brushed her neck and finally, I found the light switch and turned it on.

I apologized. I stammered. I tried to look as embarrassed as I should have felt.

But there I was, stark naked after ever-so-briefly feeling up the sweetest lady I've ever known and acting as though it were all an accident.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I said over and over. "I didn't see you standing there."

"It's okay, Fred," she said. "Don't worry about it. I was just, well . . . ."

I looked down at my cock as though realizing I was naked and Jasmine's eye quite naturally followed mine. She held it there a moment and then looked away. She may have been flushed, I couldn't tell in the darkness but I quickly ran back to the sofa and threw on my underwear.

"This is really embarrassing," I laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

But Jasmine had gone into the kitchen. "Listen, we're both up and I'm not really tired. What if I just make some more coffee and have some of the cookies I made for my daughter. It will be naughty, but she'll never know."

Something about her taking me into her confidence and being "naughty" aroused me. I threw on some pants but left my shirt off and headed for the kitchen. The snow was still falling and everything was quiet except for the pounding of my heart.

The coffee was on and making little snapping noises. Jaz peered out the window into the darkness briefly, then looked over at me and my bare chest, then up at my face.

"I know you don't . . . love me," she said but at that moment, I almost did. I almost forgot about all my desires, my carefully laid plans. She had gotten the advantage. I was shocked. There she was, standing there like some great formless column, all her curves buried in her nightgown. But she continued to speak. Quietly. "But for some reason, you want me." I was startled but she looked up at me earnestly as though she were explaining how to solve a simple problem to a small child.

"Oh, I know the difference," she said. "Just because I'm old and fat – don't say anything (she raised her hand) – I know that I am, doesn't mean I don't understand, well, wanting, desiring . . ."

I stood up. God she made me hot and I didn't know why! But this was moving in a positive direction. I walked over by her as if to console her, but I suspect she knew better.

"Many, many years ago, shortly after I married my husband, we were driving along the Interstate and we both realized we were incredibly, well, excited. You see, we were both virgins when we married and these feelings were most strange to me, certainly, and probably him. We got home and we didn't even unpack. That was the first time I really understood desire, hunger."

"I understand," I said rather dumbly.

"Do you?" she asked, and then walked over to the coffee which was done now. She poured two cups and everything was deadly still again. All of a sudden she seemed to realize she was walking around the house with a man – not her husband – and all she was wearing was a nightgown, even if it did hide everything pretty well. She looked like she was trying to cover herself and turned away from me. Or maybe she was just uncomfortable with the discussion. I decided to say nothing but moved closer to her and idly mixed some sugar into my coffee.

"I've seen the way you look at me sometimes. At first it made me nervous but then, well, it was kind of flattering, actually. I don't get many looks these days."

I smiled, surprised, and a little nervous myself. My hand was, as it were, caught in the cookie jar. "I didn't know."

She turned back to me with the same childlike explanatory look in her eyes. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. I know something about men, about young men. I don't always understand everything about them, that's for sure but I know, well, like I said, I know something about hunger."

"Jaz . . ."

"I guess that's why I had to stop and look at you sleeping on the couch before. It wasn't very nice of me, I know. I mean, you had no clothes on and I saw, well, I saw you all, if you understand me." She turned away from me and faced the kitchen cabinets. The snow was falling harder outside.

"Did you like what you saw, Jaz?"

"Goodness, what kind of question . . .it surprised me," she whispered. "It surprised me that it affected me so." She was whispering now.

I walked up behind her and touched her shoulders. There was a brief, instinctive stiffening, and then she relaxed. I was touching her bare shoulders although a thin strap of her nightgown stretched across her flesh.

"There can be nothing, you know, between us even though it's true that I have feelings for you, certainly more than you have for me. I guess I've always thought of you as something special," she said.

"Jaz . . ." I whispered and then I kissed the back of her neck. Her skin was cool to my lips. Although she did nothing to help or resist me, Jasmine waddled over to the light switch and turned it off. I know what she was thinking. Even though it was quite late, she didn't want anyone outside looking in to see what was going on – even if nothing was going on.

I walked over to her and kissed her full on the mouth, briefly. "Thank you," I said. "Thank you for everything." I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her to me tasting some coffee, toothpaste. Her mouth was open and I flicked at her tongue with mine. She responded briefly, tentatively and then, for a moment, I could feel release in her body and her tongue attacked mine and she held onto me tighter. 

I reached around and gingerly touched her right breast through the nightgown. So round and so full. I could almost feel the nipple hardening under my touch. She started to shake and then she abruptly pulled herself away and turned toward the cabinets again. She was breathing heavily.

"Fred, I can't do this. It's not right. Not for me."

"You feel wonderful," I said and for once, I meant it. "You are a beautiful, desirable woman."

"I know you need . . . relief, but I can't give it to you," she said, still breathing hard and then she did something that really surprised me. Jasmine, pulled up her nightgown to her waist and held it there. Even in the darkness, I could see the panty-covered ass before me now. "Press against me and relieve yourself." 

An unusual term but I didn't have to be asked twice. I pulled off my pants and rubbed my hardening member along her fat, panty-covered ass. "Jaz, Jaz . . . ." I whispered again and again, kissing the back of her neck, sliding my cock along her crack, my arms around her waist, unable to meet across the expanse of her belly. I probed with my fingers but she reached down to stop me. There would be no pussy groping here.

Faster and faster I pounded at her ass. At first, she did nothing but then she jiggled a little and leaned against the counter for support. And then she did something most unexpected. Fat, sweet, innocent, church-lady Jasmine took my hand from her waist and held it to her breast. That did it for me.

"Oh god, oh god, " I said as I pumped loads of hot semen against her panty-covered ass, squeezed her breast again through the nightgown and whispered "thank you."

Jasmine dropped her nightgown so that it covered her completely again. She turned around and looked at my rigid cock, still dripping cum from one of the most powerful climaxes of my life. Surprisingly, she smiled. "I guess you do like me, Fred. Good night now."



A Slow Seduction of Jasmine Pilcher Ch. 03



ON THE GENTLE HUNGER AND SLOW SEDUCTION OF JASMINE PILCHER

(If you haven't read chapters 1 and 2, you might want to look them over first. . . .)

The first thing I heard the next morning was the radio in the kitchen talking about a winter storm and the gentle sound of Jasmine Pilcher singing a church hymn – and a crackling. Not coffee this time but – I sniffed the air – sausage on a griddle.

I looked out the window. It was as white as it could be, not unlike Jasmine's panty-covered ass that I exploded my cum upon last night. It seemed a century ago.

Jaz saw me stirring. "Get up sleepy head," she called out without missing a beat in her song. "I've got breakfast cooking."

For some reason, I decided it would be more appropriate if I covered up completely. I pulled on my pants and my shirt and wandered into the kitchen. "Sleep well?" she asked cheerfully.

I looked around, then smiled back at her. "What do you think?" I said and Jasmine blushed. She remembered last night, it was clear, even if she was unwilling to bring it up in discussion. Fine. I've lasted this long. I'm nothing if not patient.

She was wearing a pretty red robe with white piping along the border over the nightgown of last night. I could see it peeking out from the bottom of the robe and I could also see the great expanse of chest above her breasts and below the fat folds of her neck.

I went up to her and kissed her on the cheek. She pretended it didn't happen – but started singing again. I smiled in anticipation of the delights and challenges of this day.

Looking out it was clear I was going nowhere. My car was covered completely and even the neighborhood kids were staying close to their homes. The streets were impassable and the snow seemed to be falling harder than ever.

"I hope the radio didn't wake you," Jasmine said as she pushed the sausages along the griddle. "When I saw the snow I just had to find out how long it would last. They're saying it could last all day. Do you believe it?"

"I better call work and tell them I won't be in today."

"No need," said Jasmine as she picked the sausages from the griddle and put them on a plate. "Everything is closed everywhere. Nobody is working. I hope you like omelettes. I made some for you." She opened the oven and cut a fat, fluffy omelet in two and put half on a plate for me.

I had to admit it was quite a scene. The snow, the warm smells of a home-cooked breakfast and the grandmotherly figure of Jasmine moving quite easily around her kitchen. So it's pretty amazing that all I could think about was how I could fuck her.

I could see the fat ankles in pretty slippers and the neatly painted toes peaking out from the ends. I wondered how she reached them. Last night, her fat warm belly was intoxicating under my fingers even if she didn't let me burrow under her panty to the mysteries there.

And her tit was massive and soft, like a great pillow except alive. Oh, yes. I remembered something now, something I needed to store away. When she had taken my hand and placed it on her breast, her breathing increased immediately, even more than when she bucked ever so slightly against me as I came on her ass. Her breasts, it would appear, may be the lightning rods of her passion.

I went to her phone. "I better call dad and tell him what's happening. Mom and he will be worried."

Jaz smiled again in that same earnest, open-faced way. "No need," she said. "I called your folks from my bedroom before you got up. I told them how nice you were to take me home from choir practice last night during the snow storm and how you got stranded here. They were relieved and told me to tell you to stay off the roads today."

I gulped the breakfast down in an instant and swallowed the glass of orange juice Jaz placed in front of me just as fast. "You sure were hungry," she said.

If you only knew, I thought.

She began eating in a more civilized manner. Her manicured fingers worked the knife and fork as she stared out the window. "I love snow storms," she said. "When I'm home that is, and the people I care about are safe. I don't like to worry."

"So that includes me?" I offered.

She blushed again. Cute. "Yes, you too, Fred. Of course."

Of course? What did this mean?

"It's nice to have someone here with me, especially during a storm. It's been a long time and I've forgotten how nice it is," she said.

"It is nice," I said. "It's especially nice being with you. You're a sweet and wonderful lady."

"Oh . . ."

"No, I mean it," I said, and I did. "You're just a good person to be around and, well you're not judgmental. You understand things, you know."

"We're all just people."

"But last night . . ." I whispered, as though to myself, then looked up at her. "That was special."

The woman's face was going to remain a beet red if she didn't stop blushing. "Last night was . . . was just last night. I lost my head, that's all. It'll be our secret. So enough about that" and she picked up her plate and took it to the sink.

This wasn't going to work. There was no way there would be 'enough about that.' Not while I was here. I got up and took my plate over to the sink and put it down, then took her hands from the warm dish water and held them, looked into her eyes. She looked, at the same time, distant, afraid and vulnerable.

"You were right last night," I said. "I do want you. And I want you to want me."

There. It was out. Now how would she play this ball? And again, Jasmine surprised me.

She kissed me on the chin, as though she couldn't quite bring herself to kiss me on the mouth, then she said. "It's true I've thought about you. Not just last night. I've thought about you before. I've seen the way you looked at me at church and, I'll be honest, it stirred me some. At nights I would think of you while I was lying in my bed and . . ."

The thought of her pudgy fingers jamming in and out of her snatch while thinking of me was almost enough to make me cum but I maintained control and didn't even state the obvious.

"Jaz," I said and pulled her close to me, wiping her wet hands on my shirt. "You sweet, sweet thing. You are the most exciting woman I know."

At this she practically sniffed and pulled away from me. "I'm serious," I said. I don't know why either but there's something about you that drives me crazy. I mean it."

Jasmine turned to look at me again, studied my face for a while as if trying to determine if this could actually be true. Apparently she decided it could – or she wanted it to be – because she smiled broadly and threw her arms around my neck. I could feel the bulk of her warm, sweet-smelling body against mine. And I could feel my cock hardening against her. She either didn't notice or paid it no mind.

"It can't happen, honey," she said. She looked away and whispered. "I'll admit that thinking of you at night got the juices flowing again but it's just not right. And I'd hate for our friendship to be destroyed because of this. . . this thing we feel for each other.

Friendship, schmendship, I thought. I wanted fat old woman nookie.

"That would never change," I lied and I kissed her full on the mouth and watched as her eyes closed and felt her tongue dart at mine and begin a langorous dance. I wanted to move my arms down and feel her ass but I couldn't reach that far. All I could do was pull her to me and ram my cock into her fat belly.

"Oh, sweetie," she moaned as she pulled from me, stroking my head. She took my hand and led me to the couch I slept on last night. We sat down and she looked at me in an almost motherly way before she gently kissed me again. Then she looked down at the tent created by my expanding tool in a way that was most un-motherly. She touched it gently then looked up at me a little guiltily, smiled.

"You need . . ." she started.

"I need relief again," I said using the odd words from last night. She nodded in the weary, determined way that a mother might tell her child she needs to get that splinter out.

I stood up quickly and pulled my pants down to my ankles while she watched in an almost trancelike way as my now naked rock hard dick swung left and right like a compass searching for true north. It felt deliciously decadent to be naked before her and to see her reaction. She reached down and stroked the tip lightly.

I kissed her again while she slowly massaged my cock and then I eased my hand into her robe and beneath her nightgown and for the first time, felt the flesh on flesh of her huge tit against my groping hand. At this, her kissing became more insistent and, as before, her breathing picked up. She began stroking my dick faster and faster, grabbing at my balls and touching my genitals in every conceivable way, now using the other hand too. God I was in heaven and in a lust frenzy as I felt her nipple hardening against my open palm. I kissed her neck and while I couldn't push my lips into her nightgown, I licked and sucked at her chest.

For her part, Jaz was breathing faster and faster, stroking my dick and then the little mews that I couldn't even discern began and finally they turned into words "Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes" in time with the stroking and then "sweet jesus, sweet jesus" as I reached further into her nightgown and pulled the huge mammary as if I was uncovering a great melon from the bottom of the pile. I couldn't get enough of her but it would have to wait because my relief was just about in sight.

She was watching her hands do their important work around my cock while I was clawing inside at her tits and trying to feel up every inch of their massive glory when I exploded. She was stunned and so was I, to tell the truth. It was a roman candle of cum shooting up and she kept rubbing and rubbing the semen into my dick, into her hands and her arms until I finally had to pull her hands away because I simply couldn't take any more. The rich scent of raw sex filled the room.

Jasmine stood up without saying anything and went into the bathroom where I heard either hysterical sighs or crying. I think it was the latter. 



A Slow Seduction of Jasmine Pilcher Ch. 04



(Read chapters 1-3 or you'll be a little lost here)

The snow had finally abated and the sun shone brightly and blinded me as I stepped outside Jasmine's front door.

There was no way I could go anywhere. The roads were thick with snow and there was no sign of a snowplow. I found a snow shovel and started digging my way toward the white box that was probably my car.

Whether Jaz was deliriously happy, depressed or somewhere in between, it didn't much matter. The tension was pretty high inside which was another good reason to be outside and away from it. It felt good to breathe the cold, fresh air and as I dug through the snow, I thought again about Jasmine's chunky hand around my cock and how, for the third time, she had been responsible for getting my rocks off in spectacular fashion.

Part of me felt bad about her hasty departure. Her world-class hand job must have left her with a feeling of shame afterwards but her excitement when I pawed her tits beforehand convinced me that I had found the magic button to light Jasmine's rocket. I just had to do it slowly.

I grinned a little evilly now. I wanted to fuck her. I knew I would too, if I was careful. But I wanted more than that now. I was already well pleased with my patience so why not persist a little longer? I was going to shift the rules a little. Chasing her was fun but if I really wanted to possess this fat old woman, I had to have her chase me.

That thought warmed my heart on this cold day and almost inspired another boner. Yes, things were going my way.

I finally tunneled to my car, then cleaned it off and dug some tracks I might be able to follow when the roads were clear. I also cleaned off Jasmine's sidewalks and by the time I was finished with all this, I was hot and sweaty, despite the frigid temperatures outside.

I wasn't sure what would happen when I went back inside. Jaz had taken a shower and was dressed in a blue sweater and long black pants. Lord, she was a fat woman although she cleaned up well. She ignored me when I came in and when she turned to go into the kitchen, I could see the huge hams of her ass struggling against the pants. It took all my self control to keep from lunging at them.

If she wasn't going to say anything, then neither was I. I took a shower without asking or saying anything to her about it, washed out my cum-soaked underwear and hung them over the shower rod and was about to pull on my pants when I realized they were soaking wet. So I wrapped a towel around my middle, then took the pants, my shirt and my cum-soaked underwear out to the kitchen and threw them into the washer.

Jasmine seemed surprised but didn't say anything as she cleaned up some dishes.

I turned to look out the window with the towel wrapped tightly around me. I could feel her eyes on me. "That was one heavyweight snowstorm," I said, then turned to her and smiled, as though everything were okay.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Pardon?" I said.

"Thanks for shoveling the driveway."

"No problem," I replied. "I was glad to do it but it doesn't look like I can go anywhere for awhile. The roads are impassable."

She spoke softly again and, for the first time, I could smell the scent of violets about her even as a bare hint of cum also filled the air. "The radio said everything is closed down and that some of the snow shovel trucks can't even get out.'

I plopped down on the couch and spread my legs against the towel. "I guess I'll have to stay here a while. I hope you don't mind."

"You have no choice," she said, then looked very sad again.

I walked over to her. "What wrong, Jaz?" I asked, but she stiffened like yesterday as I touched her shoulders, so I withdrew them at once.

She said nothing for a few moments, then began crying slightly. I would have been touched and even ashamed if I didn't want to fuck her so much. "What we did – what I did – was wrong," she said. "That can't happen again. It won't."

I nodded. "Of course. Of course. I'm sorry."

She turned around quickly with those same wide-open eyes. So innocent. So gullible. "It's not your fault. It's MY fault. It's up to the woman to control these things. Men aren't able to."

Interesting, I thought. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Jaz," I said. "I take a lot of the responsibility. I was the one who started this."

She shook her head and backed away. "No," she said quietly. "I was almost hoping something like this would happen. I've had a kind of crush on you, I guess. It's my fault."

I shrugged, going with the flow. "And I've had a crush on you, Jaz."

"I still don't understand that," she said. "Why would someone your age find someone like me the least bit attractive."

"Are you kidding? I can't wait to dig my teeth in that fat old ass of yours and lap at your cunt juices while you scream for more. Your fat toes playing with my dick while I jab 4 fingers up your twat. Chewing on your huge tits until you beg me to fuck you. Who wouldn't find that attractive?"

Okay, that's what I WANTED to say. I didn't actually say it. What I REALLY said was "you're the sweetest person I know. You're soft and you're warm and very exciting. Age and size has nothing to do with that."

Jasmine touched me lightly on the cheek, then smiled half to herself. "I'd forgotten how excited I get when you touched my . . ." she paused and tapped her upper chest. "It's been a long time."

"Yes," I said. "But don't worry, it won't happen again. I'm going to show you that men CAN control themselves."

"You're so sweet," she said. "You're such a thoughtful man and, goodness, so exciting when I, you know."

I nodded and tried to look sheepish. "Yeah, you have that effect on me."

She looked at my bare chest, then looked away and then back at me again. I stood there now, smiling. She touched my chest then removed her hand quickly. "You look like a young boy standing there except, well, you're bigger."

"You're right," I said. "We're too far apart in age. I can take a hint."

"Oh, no," she said, as though correcting me. She was sweet, but dumb. "No, I didn't mean that at all. Some men are big and hairy but you're hard and your skin is very smooth and soft." She touched it again and her voice faded off then she walked away and talked over her shoulder.

"When I was much younger, a girlfriend and I went to Bermuda together and a man about 20 years older than me invited me on his yacht. I was pretty naïve and went with him. He tried to, you know, have sex with me but I wouldn't let him. He got pretty mad and eventually took me back to shore. It was frightening."

"Hairy?"

"What?" She turned to look at me.

"Was he a hairy man?" I asked.

"Oh, yes he was! I didn't think about it until now. Maybe that's why I don't like hairy men."

I smiled.

"But that wasn't my point. My point is he was much older than I and he was interested in me. Why shouldn't it work the other way too?"

"I can't think of a good reason, " I said.

The washer stopped and she started putting my clothes in the dryer. She lingered over the underwear. "These are pretty, " she said. "I didn't think you'd wear boxers."

"I like my boys swinging free," I said and she blushed so I apologized again.

"No need," she said, laughing. "After what we've been through, I think we can talk, well, frankly, can't we?"

I nodded. My heart was starting to pound a little. As she bent over the dryer, her great fat ass shook before me. I wondered if she knew what she was doing.

"Why can't we be friends?" she asked, half to herself.

"We're more than friends, Jaz."

She walked up to me and whispered a little conspiratorially. "What I meant is, why can't we be MORE than friends?"

"Because . . . it hurts you," I said, doing my best to look open and honest. "And I understand that."

Jasmine then reached up and, putting a fat arm around my neck, kissed me lightly on the lips and then on the chin. I did nothing.

"You're allowed to kiss me back," she said, her voice breaking a little.

I put my arms around her and slid one hand up her sweater and felt the great, soft back.

"Honey, honey," she said. "You feel so good" and she shamelessly pressed her lips to mine and explored my mouth with her tongue then slowly pressed herself to my crotch until I was hard again. She moaned slightly then reached down while still kissing me and pulled the towel free.

It was at that moment that I understood that I had her. Oh, I could still lose her but within certain parameters, I could pretty much do what I wanted. I decided to take the chance.

Her hands were on my ass and as she pulled away, she brought them to the front and held my cock and balls in her soft, fat hands like they were newly hatched bluebirds. She looked down at them almost without expression.

"Take off your sweater, Jaz."

She looked up at me, surprised but still holding my cock. I could fee pre cum seeping out on her fingers.

"Take it off," I said again, quietly insistent.

She dropped my dick and I started pulling her sweater off over her head. She looked almost sad now but said nothing. But there she was in front of me. Her white bra covered the two biggest tits I had ever seen and I reached out to gently stroke them and as soon as I did, she grabbed my cock with ferocity.

Quickly, I reached behind her and unhooked the bra to free the package I had waited so long to see. There they were. Glorious, huge tits with saucer-sized aureole and hardening nipples. Jasmine looked up at me as though seeking advice on what to do next. I was naked before her and she was naked from the waist up, her great tits overwhelming the masses of flesh surrounding her belly.

I bent down and took a tit in my mouth and sucked like a newborn at which point she threw her head back and held my head to her chest.

"Hurt me," she whispered. "Bite them. Bite them, Fred."

I squeezed her other tit with my free hand and took to gently biting her nipple with my teeth.

"Oh, jesus god, jesus god," she moaned. "Harder," she whispered.

I chewed as hard as I dared as my teeth bit into the spongy nipple while I slobbered her with saliva and hot breath before finally pushing her down. I mounted her at the waist and forced my cock between her tits. Jasmine was breathing so hard now that she had stopped talking.

I was huffing pretty hard myself but I was in a lust frenzy. "Fuck me with your tits," I managed to say. I could see her left tit where I had sucked was red from the biting. I was excited beyond all experience.

Jasmine understood exactly what I wanted and she pressed her tits against my hard dick while I slammed between them, just grazing her chin with each stroke. Obscenely, she seemed to be trying to lick the tip on each cycle but her tongue couldn't reach so she looked more like a snake, flicking at the air.

I had come a number of times in the last few hours but there was still more there. I could feel it roiling up inside of me as Jasmine's fat tits jiggled with each thrusting. I held my hands over hers, pressing her great mammaries against my thrusting cock.

"Here it comes," I said. "Here's what you want, baby. Here's what you want." I was practically incoherent.

"Give it to me," she whispered in that sweet little singing voice of hers and that pretty much did it. For the third time, my hard-working cock shot cum, this time against her chin and her lips and close to one eye and she shivered and licked at the white juice and I even think she came herself.

I massaged the cum into her chest with both palms, staking my claim on these great mammaries, then stood up, brushing her crotch on the way and thought I felt wetness soaking through her pants.



A Slow Seduction of Jasmine Pilcher Ch. 05



(If you're just joining this story, you really should read at least the first chapter to understand what's going on. Scroll to the bottom of the page and click on my name to view earlier chapters)

*

Amazingly, it started snowing again later that day.

It wasn't a hard snow like the storm that had inspired all the recent cummings and goings. It was kind of gentle and just barely covered my car, then the windows and, finally, my automobile was just a white hump. I smiled.

I watched the snow fall a long time. It was so gentle. Naturally it made me think of Jasmine who had remained in her bedroom all day. Like Jasmine, I liked the easy way the snow wrapped itself around my car. It reminded me of the way Jasmine grabbed my hard cock in her soft, fat hand and later enveloped it between those two huge, delicious tits.

Ah, Jasmine! Where are you?

I thought I heard a gentle snoring coming from her room once. I decided the events of recent hours must have taken an emotional and physical toll and that she was resting. Sweet Jasmine. If she only knew. I was just getting started.

This was my house now – at least as long as the snow kept us in isolation. I checked with my home and work. Everyone was fine. No business being done. Storm of the century. Blah blah blah.

I didn't care about any of it. I had made Jasmine my own as much as if I had already fucked her. I had to smile. So much energy. So much cum happily splashed around the house and I still hadn't put the meat to her. I laced my fingers behind my head after stripping down to my boxers. Yep, this house was mine just like she was.

I would have her when I was in the mood – and had recovered some from my enthusiastic cum explosions. We both needed a rest and I was glad to have her in the other room while I was recuperating.

I found a beer in the fridge and made myself a ham and cheese sandwich. Before long I was able to watch a bad soap opera on television while a boner sprung out my shorts in anticipation of future pleasures with my fat fuck whore, Jasmine Pilcher.

I looked over my shoulder. Still snowing. Life is good. All I had to do was wait.

It was almost dark when Jasmine finally came out of her bedroom in a robe. She went into the bathroom and when she came out she looked, well, almost attractive. She was wearing a just too-tight sweater and a pretty pink skirt that flicked at her fat knees. It was when I saw her showing herself in this most un-Jasmine way that I knew there would be no more coy game playing. My hardon sprung into view again but I willed it away. I didn't want to spoil things.

"Did you get anything to eat?" she asked, smiling over at me and completely unconcerned by my simple attire.

"A sandwich," I said. "Are you hungry?"

"Don't worry, honey. I'll fix myself something. You sure you don't want anything?" She had a mischievous little smile for a moment but it went away so quickly I wasn't sure if it meant anything. It didn't matter. I definitely wanted something.

"Would you like a beer?" she asked.

"I had one earlier but I didn't see another. I'm okay, Jaz."

"They're in the back. I don't need to get to them too often . . ." and Jasmine bent over and reached waa—yy in the back of the bottom of the refrigerator and waved that incredibly huge and round ass directly in my face while the skirt hiked up mid-thigh, then higher . . .

I walked over to her and lifted her up, then kissed her full on the mouth and tasted the freshness and eagerness there. Her eyes closed as she held me at the waist and I took a hand, ran it along her fat face cheeks, then boldly began stroking her bra-covered breasts oh-so gently until she moaned and reached into my boxers.

I simply had to touch that fat ass she had tempted me with. While my left hand kneaded her tits, my right dove under the waist of the pink skirt and I felt her bare skin. No panties! It took every bit of willpower I had to keep from shooting my load right there while her pudgy fingers worked my prick like a flute and her tongue seemed ready to consume me from the inside out.

I broke the kiss and backed away. Her lips were red from our long kiss and she was breathing heavily. I pulled her into the living room. The snow was still falling and the evening news was reporting another storm coming into the area.

Jasmine made no attempt to adjust her skirt or sweater. She just looked at me. Hungry.

"On your knees," I said as gently and insistently as I could. She obeyed after leaning against an end table and easing herself down. Now she was at my feet, looking up at my face. Pleading. For what?

I pulled off my boxers and tossed them on the couch. My erection was full and almost pointing to the ceiling. Jasmine gasped and reached out looking up at me briefly (for what? permission?) before lovingly taking my balls into her two hands and stroking them.

"Such wonderful balls," she said in a throaty, otherworldly kind of way. "They are huge balls and so soft. You can't help but produce sons with great balls like this. . ."

"Take me in your mouth, Jasmine. Suck on my cock now."

I'm not sure she had ever done this before. For a moment she looked almost apprehensive but grateful someone had ordered the deed to be done. I didn't want her to think about it too long.

Grabbing the back of her head, I forced her lips on my knob. At first she just flicked at it, a little unsure, it seemed. Sweet old Jasmine. She didn't know how to give a decent blowjob.

Frankly, I wasn't interested right now in giving her lessons but I knew enough about Jaz to realize that all she needed was a little inspiration. The woman was a passion furnace if someone just stoked the flames. Fortunately, I knew just how to do that.

She was massaging my balls and flicking at my cock. I reached down and pulled up her sweater, than unhooked the bra and flung it over on my boxer shorts. Then I lifted her sweater up over her tits. They were so huge, even though somewhat droopy, that the sweater stayed around her neck like a scarf.

I started working her tits while she licked my dick and her nipples immediately became hard. She moaned and grabbed my ass, pulling my cock more fully into her mouth. She sucked half the length of it with her lips and ran her hands all over my ass and legs while I pulled and squeezed and rubbed her mighty mammaries until I thought she was gagging on my prick then realized it was only moaning.

Jasmine started making little whelping noises that grew higher and higher in pitch and increased with the frequency of her sucking. She was almost ready to cum.

"Enough," I said with some difficulty. I realized I was breathing pretty hard myself. Jasmine was quite a sight. She looked up at me with sad eyes, her huge breasts heaving with the passion she was feeling and a pink rose bud had formed on her bulbous cheeks. "Lay down."

She did as she was told and lay on her back in front of the TV. I mounted her 69-style and pulled up her skirt, then dove into her sex with my face.

Jasmine was shocked and almost screamed in protest but I would hear none of it. I pushed my face past her fat, veined legs to the soft and surprisingly young-looking upper thighs. In the glow of the nightly weather report I could see the modest bush hiding my prize.

My god she was fat! I actually had to move a huge roll of belly to get to her cunt but this act and the smell or her arousal brought me to an animal-like ferocity. I forced my whole face onto her cunt and began lapping away like a puppy slurping milk.

In the meantime, Jasmine had found my cock and was taking it into her mouth, this time all the way. Yes, she was on fire now – and she didn't last long. I practically had my chin between her vaginal folds and my tongue was deep in her womb when she came and pulled my cock even further into her while holding tight onto my ass. She was bouncing up and down like a bronco and I had a hard time keeping my mouth on her fat, sloppy twat throughout -- but I did.

Smells of her arousal, my sticky precum, our sweat, the old beer on the end table seemed abnormally intense as were the sounds of – honest-to-god – the falling snow outside.

She screamed something, I think it was "oh, jesus, god!" but I'm not sure and then the bucking stopped. Now she was breathing very hard and fast, her breasts splayed across her naked chest, rising with each inhalation. I quickly jammed three fingers in her cunt and she grunted, then I wiped my fingers on her skirt and turned around, sticking my still hard and un-expended prick in her mouth.

By straddling her face I was able to watch her take every stroke. At first she looked at me hungrily, then her eyes closed but finally she opened them and in a feral and almost frightening manner, her eyes went to the top of her head like a shark ready to consume its prey and that did it for me.

I shot my load with even greater force than earlier ejaculations. She kept my cock in her mouth for a moment, then pulled it out and spread the cum on her cheeks, eyes and hair and rocked her head from side to side sticking my dick in every hole of her face, painting herself with me until the brush, finally, was dry.



A Slow Seduction of Jasmine Pilcher Ch. 06



I was glad and relieved when the snow stopped falling and the plows had done their work.

I was spent, having splashed, spilled, smeared or pumped my jism into, over and on fat, old Jasmine during the last couple of days. Oddly, I think she was just warming up but I was flat done in. I needed a rest.

This was interesting because I never actually put the meat to her. It would have been – if you'll pardon the expression – almost anti-climactic but I had degraded her plenty already. Still, she wanted more. I decided she could wait just a little longer.

During the next couple of weeks I went to choir practice as usual. My fat sex buddy was more dressed up than usual and even wore perfume (too much) and bright red lipstick to the practices. I smiled at her like nothing had ever happened between us.

On the second week, Jaz got closer to me and touched my arm as we were all drinking coffee after the practice. She mumbled something about needing some help with something and could I stop by and . . . I looked at my watch and glanced at her chunky knees and the red lipstick (a little bit had dinged her front teeth) and got an idea that made my restored cock squirm in anticipation. Nevertheless, I shook my head no to Jaz.

She just nodded and moved off to speak with someone else and I wondered if I had overplayed my hand. I shouldn't have worried. She returned and whispered to me.

"I . . . need . . . to talk . . . ."

I looked at her then nodded absently. She left to go home and I lingered for a while and spoke to Pastor Ryan who dropped by to talk to the choir members, all the while thinking of Jasmine Pilcher's sweetly sensitive tits, the fat knees and the obscenely red lipstick.

It was dark when I arrived at her home and she pulled me in quickly, then kissed me full on the mouth with her chunky tongue doing a sloppy dance with mine. Yes, Jasmine had evolved quite a bit in the last few weeks.

Her red lipstick was smeared on my face and her mouth looked like a recent scar or a newly ravished cunt. I squeezed her left tit harshly and she closed her eyes and instantly started panting. I was both aroused and stunned at this reaction. The thick scent of perfume hung in the air.

"On your knees, Jaz," I commanded simply.

Without saying a thing, she knelt down before me then looked up like a puppy, eager to please. That brought my cock to ramrod attention. I unbuttoned my pants and dropped them to the floor. My cock sprung out like a serpent looking for prey and I took it, then wiped it around the edge of her mouth, cleaning up the smeared lipstick while her tongue tried vainly to catch it.

"I want you to suck my cock with your red mouth."

"Anything, Fred. You know I'll do anything. Anything you want."

"Are you mine, Jasmine?"

"Yes, yes, whatever you . . ." and the rest was lost in a big cock mumble as she took my member in one great gulp and I could feel the warmth and the warm saliva coat my dick until I thought I would blow. I forced her head on my cock and she took it all, kissed it, licked it, bit it timidly, tongued the tip, the bottom and my balls. It took all my will power to pull away but I did.

"Up," I said.

She nodded, a little disappointed, I thought, then stood up, hunger in her eyes. I wanted to test out my fat filly.

Moving closer to her, I began licking her neck folds and she moaned, then I ran a free hand inside the back of her skirt and felt her great, white panties and the warm bulk they contained. I felt inside and she moaned anew.

Standing in front of her now and looking her directly in the eyes, I reached under her dress and felt for the warm, moist spot where her twat was dripping in anticipation. I reached down and pulled her skirt over her head so I was looking at the bright white panties and the moist spot over her sex.

"Hold," I said and she took the dress and held it up so it was covering her face and her upper body, then I pulled her panties down and, for a moment, her knees buckled. I pulled the panties off and threw them in a corner. I could smell the wetness of this old woman's lust.

"Floor," I said.

She surprised me a little by undoing her skirt and opening her blouse, but not removing it. She may have been the prey but she did know how to tempt me. I reached up and caressed the huge left boob, then pulled up the bra until the tit plopped out before me and I sucked and bit and pulled at her and all she would say was "anything . . . anything . . ."

I stood up and pulled off my shirt, kicked away my pants and looked down at my half-naked prey. Panting, her free tit rose and fell faster and faster.

"Jasmine, I've wanted to fuck you for a long time. And now I'm going to do it."

She took off her bra and removed the blouse until she was finally naked – for the first time – the two of us, and then she nodded again.

"Do it, Jasmine," I said. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to do whatever you want to me, Fred. I want you to use me, to ride me, whatever you call it. Just take me." Her fat, eager form was sprawled out on the carpet and she slowly spread her legs for me and reached out with her chunky fingers.

"Say it," I said. "I want to hear it!"

When she spoke, it was calmly and quietly but the effect was like thunder. "Fuck me, Fred. I want you to fuck me hard. I want you to fuck me so hard it hurts."

I fell upon the mass of her and instantly jammed my cock into her yawning cunt, reached behind to grab a chunk of fat, Jasmine ass and pulled her to me. She was doing the same thing and my entire length was instantly in her. When I bottomed out, she came in an instant.

"Oh, god, oh, jesus, god," she said. "Take me, take me, Fred. Ohhh . . . more, yes, harder, faster . . . hurt me, Fred!" There was the scent of lipstick and perfume and sex pervading the room.

I sat up, still deep within her and pumped her more slowly, my rock hard cock bottoming out with each stroke. I pinched her ass, I pulled on her nipples.

"Bitch," I said. "Cock sucker! I'm going to fuck you until you can taste it."

"Yes, yes," said the 50+ woman who had been so coy only a few short weeks earlier. "Fuck me with your big cock. Oh, I feel it, I feel it. You're cuming!"

Jasmine's twat was not as tight as I would have thought and I lasted quite some time. She was rocking her head left and right and using the vilest language, urging me to fuck her, to take her, to use her, over and over.

At one point, I fell on her and wrapped both of my sweaty hands against her equally hot and sweaty ass. It was so big and so round. I felt for her asshole and was amazed at its smoothness and softness. I jammed one finger in, then two while fucking her.

She came at least once more but said . . . "you can't, you can't fuck me there."

"Oh, you're quite wrong, Jaz. I can do anything I want and I played with her ass and virgin asshole with both hands and she came yet again and finally, blessedly, I spilled my seed into her in consummation of this beautiful, ugly, glorious feast.