3 comments/ 94114 views/ 5 favorites Alison's Younger Man By: LiChelle “Mr. Thompson? Are you home? Hello? Mr. Thompson, it’s Alison Campbell. Hello?” Alison Campbell, real estate agent to the extraordinary, lifetime member of the Million Dollar Club, let herself into the condo of Peter Thompson, the writer to whom she had made her latest sale. She had knocked and then used the key she had come to deliver. Not that this was common practice, mind you. She had called first and he had told her to come around after work and let her self in if he wasn’t at home. He had a few errands to run, he explained, and would return before too long. Alison released a big sigh and stepped through the door. What was she doing here? She could have very easily mailed the key to him. It wasn’t like she didn’t know the address. But for some reason, she felt the need to see him again. And she wasn’t sure why. Was it because he was a writer, a profession she herself had aspired for in her younger days? Was it because he was young, 26 if she remembered correctly? What was it her daughter called men who were so good looking? Eye candy? “Yes”, Alison muttered to herself, “look but don’t touch.” Alison walked through the condo’s living room, spacious and absent of furniture, and into the kitchen. She planned on placing the gift basket she had brought into the refrigerator. Another one of her hobbies (or wastes of time, he ex-husband had said) was gourmet cooking and basket making. She had included a variety of foods for Peter Thompson, marinated shrimp, coriander chicken, black bean salsa, pasta salad and a bottle of chardonnay. She was attempting to impress the man for future sales, she reassured herself. Alison opened the refrigerator; it was empty except for a few bottles of wine and a six-pack of beer. “This man’s going to need more than what’s in this basket” she said to herself. Turning from the kitchen, Alison noticed a note on the counter. It read: Alison, Back in 30 minutes. Make yourself at home. Open a bottle of wine. Peter Well, thought Alison, a glass of wine would be nice, and she wasn’t in any hurry. Ever since her daughter started driving, she was never at home. And with her son at college, it wasn’t like there was a man waiting for her anywhere. Alison opened a bottle of white zinfandel, poured a glass (a paper cup, actually), and decided to look over the condo’s layout. She was going to have to move soon, as the house was being sold as part of the divorce settlement. These condo’s, more like lofts actually, were a bit expensive, but she did have an image to uphold. Alison’s first stop was the bathroom. She studied her reflection in the lighted mirror. Not bad for almost 40; large breasts, curvy hips, a bit too much padding here and there but what did you expect after two kids? And why had Eric left her for that bimbo? Oh yes, she remembered his words clearly; “it’s become old hat. There’s nothing new anymore and you make me feel old”. Well, he was 50; and at 11 years his junior, she had made him feel young once. Weren’t they supposed to grow old gracefully, together? Apparently not. Alison sighed again and removed her jacket. She smoothed down her powder blue silk shirt, allowing her hands to linger at her breasts, posing for herself (who else was there?) in the mirror. Her long, curly blonde hair was pulled back loosely. She removed the combs and allowed her tresses to cascade across her shoulders. She turned her head over, fluffing her hair as she went. Maybe a little lip-gloss? She retrieved her purse from the kitchen and returned to freshen her makeup. Alison paused. What was she doing? Setting a trap? “As if.” she said aloud. The first glass of wine was gone. Alison went back for another and decided to look through the rest of the condo. Off the living room and already established was an office. A desk littered with papers, a computer, a bookcase, all were already in place. In the few days Peter Thompson had inhabited his new home, it was clear that this was his personal space and where he spent most of his time. Alison backed from the room, feeling like an intruder in a sanctified space. “What the hell”, she thought, “ I might as well take the grand tour.” She passed through the kitchen, refilling her cup, and made her way to the bedrooms. The guest room was empty of furnishing. The master bedroom didn’t fare much better. There was a mattress (on the floor), an end table and nothing else. “Well” said Alison, a bit tipsy at this point, “Mr. Thompson needs an interior decorator”. “Actually, I do”. Startled, Alison turned and collided into Peter Thompson, giving them both a bath in wine. “Oh, god, I’m sorry”, Alison managed to stammer. “No, I’m sorry for startling you. Here, let me get a towel.” Peter moved toward the bathroom and returned with a hand towel. He began wiping the wine from Alison’s face and shirt, only to turn red with embarrassment as his hand crossed her glorious breasts. “Here”, he said, handing her the towel. “Let me find you another shirt. I’m afraid all I have to offer at this point is a t-shirt. I hope your shirt isn’t ruined.” “It’s nothing,” Alison managed to reply. “I’m so sorry to be in your bedroom. See, I’m actually thinking of buying one of these condo’s myself, and I was just attempting to reacquaint my self with the layout. “No problem” said Peter as he handed Alison a t-shirt that read ‘Writers-By-The-Sea 2000’. “And you’re right. I do need some help with this place. It’s the first place I’ve bought on my own. I lived with my parents, or a roommate or a girlfriend before now. I’d welcome your ideas.” As he spoke, Peter removed his own wet shirt. For a moment, Alison could not speak, but only stare at the Adonis before her. He had almost shoulder length black wavy hair, piercing hazel eyes, a well-defined jaw line, and a body that looked as if it had been chiseled from marble. Without thinking, she reached out and ran her hand across his chest. “Oh, god. Oh, god. I’m sorry, I just…”Alison managed to stammer. “It’s alright”, Peter said as he leaned forward. His lips lightly brushed across hers. “I’m almost old enough to be your mother” Alison whispered. “But you’re not” Peter replied, as he enfolded her in his arms, pulling her close to his bare chest. He kissed her, softly at first and then again, harder and with more passion. Alison moaned and pulled him closer and closer still. Her lips parted and she felt his tongue dancing across her teeth, and they melted into a passionate kiss that seemed to last for hours. Alison felt weak with desire. She hadn’t felt this way since, well, maybe ever. “You may want to remove that wet shirt”, Peter whispered in her ear. “May I help?” “Mmm”, was all Alison managed as Peter began unbuttoning her shirt, kissing her neck as he pulled the shirt from her waistband and burying his head in her hair. “God, you’re beautiful. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. So sexy, so glamorous.” “Mature, yes, glamorous, no”, Alison laughed. “You, on the other hand…” His kisses trailed from her neck to her breasts. His hands moved to her waist and he pushed he skirt downward. Alison tried not to think too hard, but to go with the moment. At least her underclothes were nice. That was the one treat she allowed herself; lacy bras, camisoles, and panties. These were dark blue, to match her suit and, she mused, the color of her eyes. Peter’s hands caressed her body, moving from her breasts to her hips, and coming to rest on her ass. She was wearing nothing now but a bra, underwear, thigh-highs, and heels. He pulled her close and his intentions were made clear by the bulge in his jeans. Alison reached forward, unzipping the young man’s jeans. She reached through his boxers and released his glorious seven-inch cock. How good it felt in her hands! She pushed him away and pulled his jeans and boxers to his ankles. He moved toward her, but she pushed him back to the bed. “Sit”. He sat on the edge of the bed as she knelt between his legs, licking her lips. She kissed the head of his penis, tasting his pre-cum before taking all of him into her mouth. Her tongue rimmed the head of his cock and then she sucked back, lovingly taking him all the way into her mouth. This time it was Peter who moaned, as she moved up and down, fucking her mouth with his cock. Slowly, and then faster, at times almost inhaling his cock, tracing the shaft with her nails. He felt the head of his cock hit the back of her throat before she pulled away, licking the shaft. Alison shifted her focus downward, licking Peter’s balls and then his ass, her mouth making love to his body, like a woman consumed with passion and need. She repeated these motions again and again and then took his cock into the back of her throat again as he came, filling her mouth. She continued to suck his cock as he filled her mouth, swallowing all he could give her. Peter pulled her toward him, kissing her mouth, tasting his cum on her lips. “You’re a dream”, he whispered, as he laid her across the bed and kissed her neck before moving to her ear lobes and further down. Alison arched her back, grinding her body into his. Her breathing was heavy as she pulled his head toward her chest, her breast quivering with anticipation. Peter removed her bra and began kissing her right nipple while his hand found the other. He flicked his tongue across the tip of one and then moved to the other, gently at first and then harder. Alison was writhing in what was almost pain. She needed this man’s touch, his tongue, his cock. She had been with no one since her divorce and Eric had not touched her the final year of their marriage, and only sporadically before then. Her need was building and she thought she would explode! Peter moved downward, kissing her stomach, his hand coming to rest on her underwear. He eased it down slowly, kissing his way down her legs to her feet through her stockings. Finally, his mouth worked its way back to her pussy, his tongue flickering on the outer edges. Alison came just from his hot breath on her body. She pressed her body forward, his tongue separating her pussy lips, his mouth finding her clit. She moaned, not able to control her own body. Peter licked, sucked and fucked her pussy with his tongue. Alison wrapped her legs around Peter’s neck, pushing her pussy further into his mouth. “Oh, eat my pussy”, she yelled, to her own surprise. Eric had never liked it when she was verbal or unladylike. But the moment was beyond her control. “You know what I like. Mmm, that feels so good.” The more she spoke the more excited Peter became, licking and sucking harder. Alison’s body shuddered in ecstasy as she came, spraying cum on his face. “Oh, Peter, fuck me”, Alison yelled. She turned over, backing her ass up to his now rock hard cock. His cock entered her sopping pussy and Alison began rocking back and forth as hard as she was able. He fucked her pussy hard, as she moaned, “fuck me” and “give me that cock” again and again. Peter wrapped his hands in her long blonde hair, pulling her head back towards him. “I’ll fuck you”, he said, “I’ll fuck you like you have never been fucked. I’ll make that sweet pussy cum just for me”. “Oh, yes”, Alison moaned, her hands playing with her clit as her pussy was being pounded. She came once again, an orgasm that seemed to consume her entire body from head to toe. Peter came with her, his cock filling her pussy with come. “Oh fuck, oh Baby”, he yelled as he came. They collapsed together in a wet, sweaty heap, Peter kissing her neck, her ears, her mouth. They lay there, snuggling, catching their breaths. “God, that was incredible”, Alison said when she was finally able to speak. And then teasingly she added, “Why did I never know about younger men before?” “You’re just at the right age to appreciate us.” Peter answered. “More specifically, me.” “So do you want to talk about decorating your condo now?” Alison teased. “Well, I’d like to get your opinion on other rooms.” Peter answered. “I do think,” Alison mused, “the prime view is from on my back. Looking over your shoulder of course.” “Of course.” Peter laughed, kissing her hair. ‘I’m starving. I saw the spectacular food you made. Shall we start with the kitchen?” “No rest for the wicked.” Alison whispered, as she removed her stockings and pulled on her underwear and Peter’s t-shirt. “Hmm?” asked Peter. “Oh, I’m coming.” She said. “I’m planning on it,” said Peter with a boyish grin. Alison's Younger Man Ch. 02 Alison made every attempt to look interested in what her broker was saying. These monthly sales meetings were so boring and she had other “activities” requiring her attention. She felt her pager vibrate again. Damn! If she could only get to a telephone. Surely this meeting would be over soon! Mr. Carroll had to be through talking before long. There were only so many houses to review and only so much real estate to sell. And did he really think his speeches were motivating? Maybe to the new agents but not to those who knew how to sell. And where did he get off admonishing her before the meeting. “Not putting enough time in Alison. Your loyal customers won’t be so loyal if you don’t give them that time and attention we promise. Here at Carroll Realty…” He was only pissed because she continued to ignore his advances, Alison thought. Mr. Carroll had seemed happy, elated even at the breakup of her marriage to Eric. Yadda, yadda, yadda, Alison thought earlier when Mr. Carroll was speaking directly to her and again now. Alison’s eyes roamed the room, looking from the face of one bored agent to the next. Her mind began to wander to Peter and the morning they had shared before work. Peter and his luscious 26 year old body. Had they really been together for almost a month? She felt more alive than ever before and she had Peter to thank. They couldn’t seem to get enough of each other! She understood her attraction to him: tall, dark curly hair, gorgeous hazel eyes, beautiful skin, muscular arms and a body that wouldn’t quit, not to mention a phenomenal mind. He was mature, intelligent, and an Adonis. But he seemed to be equally enamored of her. He genuinely wanted her at age 38, over women his own age! He went on and on about her hair, her skin, her eyes, her mouth. No man had ever made Alison feel this way, not even her husband. And this morning! Peter had called her, begging her to come by his condo before she went to work. She had already been late for appointments three times this week, but couldn’t resist Peter when he called. Against her better judgment and almost against her will, she rang Peter’s doorbell at 7:30 a.m. Peter met Alison at the door with nothing on but his boxers and a smile. “Hello, you”, he said with a boyish smile. “I made you breakfast, if you have time to eat…” “It’s not food I’m hungry for.” Alison managed to reply. Her heart melted as it did each time she saw this sexy, young writer. He moved her beyond belief, and not only physically. Without hesitation, she moved into his arms and they embraced. “What a long night it was without you.” Alison whispered into Peter’s ear. “Same here.” He replied, kissing her ear, moving downward to her neck, up to her eyes, before lighting on her lips. “But, morning is here and so are you.” Peter kissed Alison deeply, leaving no doubt of his passion, of his desire. Slowly, he reached for the zipper of her pants, rubbing her body through the material, sliding the pants over her hips and allowing her to kick them and her heels away. Next his hand moved to her blouse, slowly, teasingly unbuttoning one button at a time. Alison moved her hand to his crotch and felt his hardness brush against her body. Oh god, she thought. I am dreaming and I never want to wake up! Peter’s kisses began at her neck and moved downward, to her breasts, to her stomach, and then to her pussy. Alison allowed herself to be pushed against the wall as Peter’s skilled tongue found its mark, dancing across her clit, his mouth sucking her pussy lips, making Alison literally gasp for air. She immediately climaxed, pushing her body into his for even more. This man seemed to live for giving her pleasure… Peter’s kisses found their way back up Alison’s body, past her navel, her breast, and to her mouth, which he kissed deeply, running his tongue along her teeth and into the back of her mouth. Alison tasted her own juices and felt a thrill move through her body. She moaned loudly, pressing her body into his. “I missed you”. Peter murmured in her ear. “Show me.” Alison replied. Peter and Alison shifted their bodies to the floor of the living room still void of furniture, their mouths intertwined. Alison gently pushed Peter to his back and shifted her body, her pussy aligning with his cock. She slowly guided him into her wet, steaming cunt. His dick slid into her body with little effort as she worked her way up and down his hard shaft. Peter bucked his hips, thrusting forward, slowly at first and then with passion and wild abandon. He moaned, grabbing Alison’s hips and pulling her further into him. “Fuck me”, Alison hissed. “Give me that cock, fuck my pussy.” “I’ll fuck that pussy.” Peter managed to reply. “I’ll fuck you and make you beg for more.” Alison couldn’t believe how Peter brought out the wanton women in her. She never would have dreamed of using such language with her ex-husband. Eric was more of a “slam bam thank you ma’am” type fuck. Peter was into the moment, every moment, as it came and as Alison came. And Peter matched whatever Alison gave. She talked and he answered. The words alone between them were enough to make Alison come. The orgasm they both experienced was phenomenal. And Peter never seemed to tire! They had played out this same ritual multiple times in the past four weeks, never tiring of each other. And now it was 4:00 p.m. the same day and he was paging her again and again. His text message read, “Waiting for you. Wanting you.” Alison felt she had died and gone to heaven. “Excuse me Mr. Carroll?” Alison interrupted her broker. “I’m sorry, but I’m receiving an urgent page from an important client. I’m sorry, but may I be excused?” “Well, Alison, as one of our Million Dollar Sales Women, I believe you know how important such clients are. Now, as I was saying…” Alison slid out the door and down the hall to her office. She rushed into her office, reaching for the telephone, before she realized she was not alone. Flustered, she turned. With relief, she fell into Peter’s arms. “What took you so long?” Peter asked as he planted kisses on her face and in her hair. “Sorry.” Alison replied, returning his advances. “Business meeting.” “A man could starve waiting for you.” Peter replied. “Wait”. Alison replied, leaning over to the window and shutting the blinds. “Let me lock the door, too.” “Lock the door? But Alison, that’s half the fun.” Peter swept Alison into his arms, his mouth on her mouth, his hands exploring her body. “I want you, Alison, so bad I can taste it.” With his right hand he unbuttoned her pants, as his left hand massaged her back, moving down to her ass. He pulled her closer into his body and whispered into her ear, “Woman, see what you do to me?” He urgently pressed his cock into her thigh. Alison moaned. “Oh Peter. I need you to fuck me.” Alison wiggled out of her pants and kicked them to the side. As she was wearing no underwear (Peter’s suggestion), her lower body was bare except for her thigh highs and heels. Peter kissed her passionately then turned her toward her desk. He gently splayed her body across the desktop, pushing her legs apart with his own feet, his fingers exploring the wetness of her pussy. With his other hand he released her hair from the constraints of a bun. Wrapping his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back towards his own body. “I’m going to fuck you, Alison. I’m going to fuck your pussy and then I’m going to take your ass.” Alison’s body writhed in passion in response. Peter briefly released his grip as he removed his trousers. Without warning, he slammed his cock into her wet, steaming pussy. Alison bit her tongue to keep from crying out with extreme passion. Her body shuddered as she came, her pussy constricting across his dick. She could not suppress the moan that escaped her lips. “Oh yes, Peter, fuck me. Make me your slut. Fuck that cunt! But don’t forget my ass!” she managed to say in a loud whisper. Peter shifted. Alison almost protested before she felt his mouth on her backside. His tongue crossed her ass and moved to her sopping wet pussy, and then back to her ass again. Alison could barely control herself as his tongue went back and forth, lapping her asshole one second, her pussy the next. She thrust her buttocks out as far as she was possibly able. “Oh Peter, now, fuck my ass now.” Alison hissed, trying hard not to beg. Slowly, Peter stood, his hands massaging her ass checks. He dipped his finger in her hot, swollen pussy, and wiped her juices across her ass. He positioned himself behind her and she felt the tip of his cock brush against her asshole. Slowly, he pushed his cock into her ass. Alison pushed backward, impaling herself on his hardness. It felt so good! Her ex-husband, Eric had only fucked her ass a few times and only when he was drunk. He thought it made him queer, he said. But Alison had loved it, even though Eric made her feel like a pervert. The act seemed so natural with Peter! Peter’s seven inches were all the way in Alison’s ass. He alternated pushing in and pulling out all the way. Alison’s fingers found her cunt. She fingered her pussy and played with her clit as she pressed backwards on Peter’s hard dick. “Fuck my ass, Peter, oh please, fuck my ass. Your cock feels sooo good. I need you in my ass. Oh god, I’m cumming!” Alison felt herself cum over her own hand as Peter came in her ass. “Oh Alison, oh baby.” Was all he could say. Exhausted they fell against each other on the desk. Peter kissed her neck, burrowing his head into her hair. “Alison”, Peter said hesitantly. “Oh, yes, Peter?” She answered. “Alison, I love you”. Alison sighed. “Peter, I love you, too.” She turned, looking into his gorgeous hazel eyes. “Can we go back to the condo now? I’m starving! That was quite a workout.” ‘Sure”, he said. “But,” Alison added, “when we pass Mr. Carroll in the hall, act like you’re wanting to purchase more real estate. He’s been on my case lately. “Really?” Peter replied. “I don’t see a ‘For Sale’ sign on your ass?” “Fuck you.” Alison said playfully. “I intend to.” Peter replied, kissing her on the nose.