0 comments/ 20911 views/ 5 favorites An Older Man By: prevacker My fantasy is different from the ones I have read so far. I really get turned on by it, but I wonder sometimes why I have it. I described it to a friend, which was a mistake. She suggested that something like this must have really happened, but I am certain I have no memory of it. You need to know a lot of my history: My mothers parents died in a car crash when I was only 2, so I only remember my other grandparents, who lived only a mile away. They always made me feel so very loved. My parents were too busy fighting with each other and then got divorced when I was about 8. But through it all, both my grandparents were just great. They cheered my efforts and were so pleased with my successes. They never condoned misbehaving, but I knew it was what I had done which displeased them, never me- because I knew that all I had to do was stop misbehaving and all would be OK. They always gave me the feeling that there was noplace in the world they would rather be than with me, listening to me, talking to me, loving me. And I truly loved both of them. It was just so great and the way I imagined my life would be, but that hasn't happened. I guess I have been looking for that feeling ever since they died, my grandmother when I was 15 and my grandfather only a few months later. I like to believe that their spirits still watch over me, encouraging me, and loving me, and preventing me from doing anything they would not approve of. My fantasy is long and I actually spend a lot more time on the details than I will write: In my fantasy, my mother has divorced my father and I am living with her although I am 18 years old and could move out and get an apartment. She has a "boyfriend" (Eddie is not a boy, he's an old man) who arrives to take her to a fancy play, but she claims she is too ill to go anyplace. She decides that I should go with him, because the tickets to this play were very expensive and they shouldn't go to waste. I was excited about the prospect of seeing it, and her boyfriend Eddie is really nice to me. Eddie is a lot older than my mom and had lots of money. He dresses very well and drives a Mercedes. It does not occur to me at the time that she is doing this to keep him from taking someone else to the play! And it does not occur to me that he would not want to take me to the play, but he doesn't. He sits and fumes as I try to get dressed in a hurry. I wear my moms dressiest black dress and my mom let me wear her pearls too. I had my hair up off my neck- it looks really nice, or at I think it does. I love the feeling of nylons on my legs, I rarely wear them. When I come down the stairs in high heels (mom's shoes, I didn't own any (even though I AM EIGHTEEN 18 ), I am holding onto the railing and wobbling a little, but I am gratified to see the smile on Eddies face, he obviously is impressed. The evening is a dream. We go to dinner and he helps me order and it is really great. And the dessert is even better, we split it and he gives me the "big half". He listens to me and comment and admires, just the way my grandfather did. The play is fantastic. I laughed and cried and laughed again. I found myself constantly leaning against Eddie and he did not seem to mind. I would grab his arm and once I just reached over for his arm without looking, and my hand fell into his lap, without any special intent. Even though I removed it immediately, what I had felt there really got my attention. I had learned about sex, but it never occurred to me that Eddie is a male, and although I had seen my fathers penis when I was younger, what I felt seemed a LOT bigger. I found myself wanting to feel it again, but I knew that would not be "right". When the play is over, Eddie suggests we get split another dessert. Everything is just so perfect: the weather, my appearance, the way he listens to me and talks to me, the way he looks at me as if I were the most beautiful girl in the world. And the most interesting. I want him to hug me the way my grandfather did. I want him to know how happy he makes me feel. I want him to love me. We get in his car and he drives me home, but I don't want to go home. My mom will talk about how miserable my dad is, and how great Eddie is. I would rather just stay with Eddie and find out for myself. I tell Eddie I want to see what the park is like this time of night since I never get out after dark. He doesn't argue, but turns off to the park about 4 blocks from our house, and parks there. One other car is there, and we park far away from it. I note a couple in the car and I ask Eddie in a playful voice, "What are they doing here this time of night?" He does not answer immediately and I realize he is struggling to think of an answer. Before he answers, I slide over next to him and put my arms around him and hug him really hard, and say, "You are SO great. I have never had so much fun. Really! Everything was just perfect!" He still seems at a loss for words, and I let my head move against his chest. It is so comforting to be close to him and I feel so loved and appreciated, even though I assume he is only being polite to please my mother. With my face against his shirt and silk tie, I notice how wonderful and sexy he smells. I can't get enough of it. He places his hands on my shoulders and I worry that he is going to push me away, but instead he says, "You are really a most beautiful young lady. He says, "It really was a very perfect night, I had forgotten what it was like to date someone who did not complain about anything." His hands are now caressing my arms and my back, and I fell so good all over and wish he could caress every inch of my body. That thought makes me warm in my private place and it is a wonderful feeling. I wonder if he would caress me THERE. That thought makes those feelings increase dramatically, and I squeeze my legs together to make it even better. I just let my head slide down into his lap, and was surprised to find that my ear is right against the bulge in his pants, and the bulge is very solid and pulsating against my ear. I wonder if I am hurting him but I decide he can move me if I am. I find myself wishing I could just stay here in the car with him close to me. He shifts somewhat and I shift my head a little, which results in it being almost lifted by the pulsation of what I realize must be his penis. I wonder if this is normal, so I ask, "Is this what you do with my mom?" He laughs a wonderful laugh and squeezes me against him, saying, "Sort of...but not exactly". "What can I do so you know that I love you every bit as much as my mom does. You make me feel so good, do I make you feel good too?" "Yes, you make me feel very good. I have had a wonderful and memorable night." "My mom and dad used to touch each other under their clothing, do you do that with my mom?" "Sometimes" "I love to have you touch me, would you touch me the way you do my mom?" "I don't think I should." "Please, I really like to have you hold me." He doesn't take any more convincing than that, and his hands slide under my clothing, along my nylon covered legs and unzips the back of my dress so his hands can caress my skin. I undo my bra clip so it doesn't interfere. His hands are magic on my back and legs, and he slides up across my lower abdomen. I know I want him to touch me the way I touch myself sometimes. I know it is "wrong", but I know it will feel so good, and I want it so much. Why does he avoid doing that, I wonder. Maybe my mom won't let him? I will. Maybe he wants me to ask him to do that? I can tell my panties are very wet and I wonder if that will upset him if he does touch there, so I say nothing, but tighten my thighs to push my excitement even higher. I know I am breathing hard, and when his hand brushes against my bare nipples, which are already as stiff as they can get, it is like electricity all up and down my body. I want him to do that again, but his hands move on. When they start up my thighs again, I reach down and push his hand into the wetness. He does not seem to resist this, or mind at all, and suddenly he slips under the elastic and is pressing against my swollen wetness. My back arches, my legs stiffen and I get that fantastic feeling which I can do myself, but this is ever so much better because I know how much he must love me. His fingers have moved away, but as I come down from the incredible release, they return to gently probe and stroke me in ways which are better than I had discovered myself. And it happens again, making me tighten almost like a seizure and then totally release. He stops again, and I wonder if he will touch me again. I pray for him to touch me again, and I hear myself whispering, "again!"... And he does, and it works again. I collapse, my breathing still almost gasping. He has released me and I slump on the passenger side of the beautiful leather seats. I notice him pushing at the bulge in his pants, and realize that he seems nervous. "That was amazing. I wish I could do that all day long! Do you think that would hurt me to do that all day long?" That makes him laugh, and he does not seem so nervous. "I guess I don't know." Everything was just so great, but when he pushed again at his bulge, I asked "it 'it' OK? Am I supposed to do something to make you feel good too?" "I feel very good, you are a lovely young lady. I am very happy you feel good and are having a good time." "WOW. Good time doesn't begin to tell the story. Maybe you should show me what to do to let you know how much I love how you make me feel? What does my mom do when she wants you to feel loved and appreciated?" He pauses, obviously thinking.. and conflicted. I find myself realizing that he knows it is "wrong" to touch me, and "wrong" for me to touch him. But I know how good I felt, how loved I feel, and how much I want him to feel the same way. "You don't need to do anything, I know you enjoyed the play." "The play was good, but everything was great, and the best part was having you touch me. Can I touch you? Would that feel as good to you as your touch did to me, or don't you want me to?" He laughs again, and says, "OF COURSE I WANT YOU TO". But don't do anything you don't want to do. He unzips his pants, and adjusts something, and his penis springs out. It is as big as a banana, I realize. I though a penis was like a thumb! The tip is all pink and it has a sort of "head" with an edge. I slide over so I can hold it. My hand does not even cover half of it, so I squeeze first near his body, then move my hand and squeeze the end. I ask, "Is this right? Am I supposed to squeeze it?" His voice seems shaky as he says "that feels just fine... just keep squeezing the end gently like that... " I have only squeezed it about 10 times when he stiffens and suddenly it starts spraying all over. I let go and think maybe he has lost control of his bladder, but then I realize this must be sperm that I learned about in health class. He quickly has his handkerchief over it, but not before some hit the windshield and dashboard. I realize he is gasping and moaning, and he continues rubbing his penis for a few moments. I realize I should not have let go but continued when that happened. Then he tucks himself in, wipes the windshield and dashboard a little and starts the car. "Thank you, that was really fantastic!" "Really?" "Well, you saw the results... I'm glad I didn't get any on you! I don't think your mom would approve, do you?" I don't answer. I don't care about that. We are close to home, and when we park in the driveway, I expect my mom to be waiting, but she isn't. I have pulled my skirt down, but I am still thinking about how good Eddie had made me feel, and I don't want to go inside. I know what I want, but I am ashamed to tell Eddie. I don't want him to say no. So I just tell him how really happy I am that he took me to that play. And then I just say, "I really want you to make me feel good like that again, is that ok?" Eddie laughs and says, "anything you want is going to be OK...you are a doll" His comment makes me feel happy, loved, and also seems to go straight to that place between my legs! I am emboldened and ask, "Will you touch me again?" "I think I can do something even better, if you want me to, OK?" Before I can answer, he has lifted my left leg up so my foot is on the seat, my skirt slides up my thigh, and he can see between my legs. He pulls me over to him, and upward. I am amazed at how easily he lifts me and realize how strong he is. I want to feel him touch me, and he lifts my pelvis up and up, my left leg going behind his head and he pulls my panty crotch aside, and presses my private place against his lips. I feel his tongue moving across me, finding the most sensitive places, building the pressure, more and more, and .... the earth shakes and the world explodes and I seem to disappear into pure pleasure. ... that is pretty much the fantasy... by this time I have had each of the orgasms I have in the fantasy, the one imagining his tongue is often the best... and I am pretty much exhausted. I worry that this fantasy will stop working some day, but it has been pretty reliable for the past 4 years. Maybe I will meet a well dressed, loving older man and want to try it out with him. That would be fantastic. I realize it is just because I really want to feel loved and appreciated, but the orgasms are great too. Maybe if I met an older man and he smelled good and treated me nice, I would want him touch me and lick me. Actually, I would want him to marry me too! And love me completely and forever, just the way my grandfather did my grandmother. Anyway, that is my fantasy. An Older Man "... He dared to explore her withered neck with his fingertips ... her hips with their decaying bones, her thighs with their ageing veins." Gabriel García Márquez: "Love in the Time of Cholera" * When people are young, they have not a care in the world. Death is but a fleeting thought more appropriate to someone else's life, and the rigours of old age are glazed over with the myopia of youth. As you grow older, the onset of your fading beauty and ailing health prompts you to exercise and diet, to wax and colour, to nip and tuck, in order to stave off the stranger you see in the mirror with each passing day. Immortality is secured with your children and you carry the foolish notion that this growing family will compensate for the loneliness ahead, more so when your partner dies. But you forget about touch and the myriad of life-affirming senses it brings. The warmth of a man's breath as he nuzzles his face into the nape of your neck. The tingling sensation in your groin when he wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes so gently as he takes possession of your body. The exquisite pressure of his thrusting penis when he enters you and temporarily subdues the cacophony of life. Oh, what you would give now to subdue the solitude of life! Iris appears to be of that indeterminable age which so often accompanies one's middle-to-late years. Since her husband died seven years ago, the lines on her face have deepened and the mauve shadows under her eyes no longer disappear with restful sleep. Her once slender and golden countenance is now slight, ashen, and the whisper of a slump in her neck hints at the melancholy within her heart. She slowly crosses the hallway of her modest cottage to pick up the mail off the doormat. The usual assortment of utility bills and flyers promoting the latest, greatest eatery litter the floor but there are no personal letters or postcards to breach her isolation. Her children and grand-children moved abroad several years before James passed away and the paltry state pension she receives can ill-afford the inflated air fares each year to the other side of the world. Iris trudges into the kitchen and puts on the kettle. Even a strong cup of tea cannot lift her lethargy these days and not for the first time does she consider switching to coffee. She catches her reflection in the chrome body of the kettle and contemplates how accurately the warped impression of her face portrays her inner bleakness. How funny, she thinks to herself, that an older man loudly laments his failure to find his companion amongst the multitude of nubile women frequenting the haunts of his yesteryears, whilst a woman of her substance and experience who could so easily match this man is overlooked simply for being too old. And yet, Iris muses, how are these men to know of her existence if she does not show herself? These forlorn men seeking someone to cherish will never discover her if she remains closeted in her monastery and refuses to step out into the daylight, to sashay her rusty charm for all to appreciate in wonderment, despite her twilight years. She rifles through the flyers and stops to examine one depicting a newly opened brasserie on the high street tempting punters with an assortment of wines from intense Malbec, to the fragrant New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc or a refined Chablis. There is also on offer a ceviche of coconut and lime marinated sea bass with avocado salsa or alternatively a slow-roasted belly of Gloucestershire Old Spot. Iris fondly reminisces her weekly date-nights with James, which only fell by the wayside once the cancer had taken a firmer grip of his pancreas and refused to let go. She looks carefully at the flyer and her heart flutters at the possibility of finding affection again and the sensuous touch of skin on skin. **** Iris nervously enters the fashionable brasserie and surveys the place rowdy with the chatter of people and the clatter of plates. Lipsticked women and suited men laugh and flirt with pseudo confidence and Iris is acutely conscious of how displaced she looks in her maxi-length patchwork skirt with a white peasant blouse. She pulls her light cotton shawl tighter across her shoulders and is about to leave when a waiter approaches her and coaxes her to wait at the bar until a table becomes available. She catches sight of a man sitting on the bar-stool, advanced in years with thinning silver hair but a straight back and the composure of someone who has not yet been defeated by life. A flicker of excitement rushes through her belly as she takes the stool next to him and he turns to acknowledge her presence with a wide smile. "It's like riding a bike," thinks Iris as she tilts her chin flirtatiously and coyly accepts his offer of a glass of wine. They spend the next hour drinking and discussing the decline of the country's education system and the rise of its brash adolescents when a lean dark-haired man suddenly materialises, flushed and damp from the rain outside. "Sorry I'm late, darling," he exclaims breathlessly as he slides an arm around her companion and brushes his lips against the silver fox's cheek. "The traffic was simply atrocious!" The dark-haired man notices Iris and beams curiously. "Well, who do we have here, Seb?" he grins. Turning to Iris he adds, "I do hope my Sebastian hasn't been boring you with too many details of our humdrum lives!" Sebastian slips off the bar-stool and kisses the man on both cheeks, then turns to introduce him to Iris. "This is Clem, my life-partner," he says with a flourish of pride. "Iris, if you're at a loose end, please do join us for dinner," he offers graciously. Iris is unsure if the air escaping her lungs is due to the discomfiture of her delusion or the futility of her preposterous pursuit for some physical human contact. Heat rising in her cheeks, she clumsily makes her excuses and almost trips as she lurches for the door to escape the humiliation of her encounter. When did it become so difficult to make a connection with another person? When did it become so impossible to simply fall into the arms of a willing recipient and meld into a sweaty passionate heap of tangled limbs and heaving sighs? The rain has slowed to a faint drizzle in the darkness outside and Iris inwardly curses as she sees her bus pull out from the stop. She can wait half an hour for the next one or she can start walking off her anxiety and be home within forty minutes. Clasping her handbag to her chest and cloaking the shawl over her inclined head, she takes the short-cut home across the deserted shadowy playground and almost stumbles straight into the two hooded youths lazily swaying with long legs outstretched on the children's swings. Iris begins to apologise to them for her blunder, but something about the predatory gleam in the taller boy's opiated eyes and the sickly-sweet smell exuding from them perturbs her so wrapping her arms tighter around her handbag, she hastily moves away towards the refuge of the trees. She can hear footsteps behind her and even before her instincts warn her to run, the youths are upon her. She drops her handbag to the ground as the thinner boy with dirty blond hair peeking out from his hood wrenches her arms behind her back. "Take my money!" she screams at them, "just please don't hurt me!" The taller youth is looking inside the bag and pockets what little money he finds. He tosses her bag to the ground in frustration and disgust at his menial gains and closes in towards Iris towering over her. "We no' done yet, ya rinsed bitch," he whispers menacingly. "Me 'n' mi bruv gonna mash you up for messin' us ..." Later, Iris barely remembers lying alone on the damp muddy leaves beneath the cover of the trees, completely naked, arms restrained by her cotton shawl, her mouth stuffed with her pretty white peasant blouse now torn and caked. She has trouble recalling the exact details of how she crawled home, raw and exposed, or even having had the competency to find her handbag with her house-keys still intact following the maelstrom of the assault. But the next morning over a cup of tea in the comfort of her kitchen, she clearly relives each and every second of the feverish heat she had felt when Tall-Boy viciously groped her wilting breasts and slapped them from side to side to see how long it would take for the bruises to appear on such thin skin. She closes her eyes and recaptures the violent fluttering in the pit of her stomach when Dirty-Blond had savagely parted her labia and laughed cruelly as he stuck his filthy fingers into her cunt to see how long it would take for the old biddy to get wet. He had spat on her face with contempt, then had lunged at her breasts with bared teeth, clamping and sucking her hardened nipples with such ferocity that Iris convulsed between delirium and pain. Iris shifts languidly in her chair at the memory of Tall-Boy pulling down his trousers and her awe at his enormous erection springing out from its confines to begin its assault on her. How long had it been since she was so near a bare penis she could smell it, almost taste it? Tall-Boy had sniggered at her trance before rudely shoving his seeping cock into her willing mouth which had engulfed it unreservedly with the hunger of a famished widow savouring the almost-forgotten delectable taste. Her cunt juices had spewed at the promise of a deep hard fuck and when Tall-Boy pulled his cock out of her mouth and entered her like a crazed dog pounding a bitch on heat, she immediately felt the rapturous waves of an orgasm shudder through her body as he cleaved her cunt with the vigour of a young man galvanised by his sin. Throughout the ensuing lassitude, Iris calls to mind how she had been pumped repeatedly until a strangled cry and heavy slump on top of her signified the spilling of Tall-Boy's seed into her fruitless womb. She rolled easily onto her front as Dirty-Blond forcefully prodded her with his foot and boorishly embedded his stiff prick into her sullied hole as he tugged at her hair forcing Iris to face upwards toward the dark sky and arch her back in exquisite torment. He came too quickly and Iris was dimly aware of the chill creeping into her skin as the blaze that had emanated from her assailants dissipated with their departure. Iris gently slides her fingers under her dressing gown and dreamily probes her damp clit with a smile, thinking how absurd to have set her sights on an older man for comfort when a younger man, even two, can offer the gratification she craves. THE END An Older Man and a Young Lady How do the older man and the young lady in this story know each other? Are they role playing or...? That is left to the reader's imagination. When the man checked in at the front desk, the woman on duty assumed that he was the father of the young lady beside him. She smiled because they were such a sweet pair. He looked distinguished and she was pretty and vivacious. When the man asked for one room with a queen bed, she realized that he must be out visiting his daughter at college. It was so cute the way the young lady took his arm as they went over to the elevators. After they got up in the room, the man and the girl looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then the man said, "Okay, we said we'd review the rules at the beginning. I'll tell you how to pose and take pictures of you. We can say anything we want to each other. We can touch ourselves. But no kissing on the lips and no fucking." The girl just gulped and nodded. The man continued, "We never really decided whether we could touch each other at all, though." The girl shrugged. "Can't we hug?" The man smiled paternally. "Of course we can hug. But what about other touching, as long as it isn't kissing or fucking?" The girl sounded impatient. "I don't know. Whatever. Let's just see how we feel." The man's eyes narrowed as he said, "Don't get petulant with me, young lady." She blushed. "Sorry." "Sorry...who?" She blushed even more as she said, "Sorry...Daddy." He smirked as he said, "You're a whore for doing this, you know." The girl looked weak in the knees as she answered, "I know." He took out the camera and said, "Okay, first, get on your knees in front of me." She looked up at him sweetly as he snapped pictures. Her face was fresh and beautiful. She was a natural redhead with lovely fair skin. From her face, she could easily pass as a much younger girl, but her tits were full and womanly. Her top was tasteful, but from this angle the man had a good view of her ample cleavage. "Do I look pretty, Daddy?" "You're gorgeous, Sweetpea. You always are." "Good. I like to look pretty for my Daddy." She reached over and tenderly stroked one leg of his slacks. Her face was uncertain now, looking for reassurance. The man nodded and said, "Yes, I think that's okay. You're just touching your Daddy's pant leg after all." She hugged his legs, her face just inches from the bulge in his pants, and said, "Thank you, Daddy. You're so wonderful. You teach me so many things about life, and culture and science and...just everything." He smiled. He enjoyed how much she admired him. "You know, Sweatpee, Mommy's not here." "Yes, Daddy." "So I think you can even touch me like this." With that, he took her petite right hand and put it on top of the bulge in his pants. She instinctively started stroking it. "I like making my Daddy hard like this." He moaned and ground his hips against her hand for a few moments, but then suddenly stopped and pulled her hand away. "Did I do something wrong, Daddy?" "No, but Daddy wants to take more pictures of you. Did you bring the lingerie?" She got up happily, grabbed her bag, and disappeared into the bathroom. A few moments later, she came out wearing a black babydoll and matching high heels. The babydoll was semi see-through, so her large nipples were partially visible, as was the outline of her bare pussy. She bit her lip and said, "How do I look, Daddy?" The man groaned, "Oh yes. That's good. Good girl." He took a few pictures of her just standing up with her hip cocked, then lying on her side on the bed with her head on her hand. Finally, he looked her in the eyes and ordered, "Spread." Trembling, she opened up her legs, making the babydoll slide back over her hips, so her pussy was fully visible. "How come your pussy is all wet and open, Sweetpea?" "I can't help it, Daddy. Showing you my pussy makes me so excited." "Rub your creamy slut-pussy." Her fingers slipped over her pussy lips, fingered her cunt and then gently rubbed her clit. Her hips began to twitch. She was so aroused that she forgot for a moment about the flash of the camera. But then she looked up to see the man taking pictures from various angles, trying to get the sexiest shot. She loved being watched. She loved being enjoyed. She loved being admired. And most of all she loved pleasing him. "Do you want to touch yourself too, Daddy?" She licked her lips, excited by the thought of seeing him stroke his hard cock. "Not yet. First I have a present for you." He reached into his bag and pulled out a vibrator. "I got this just for you, Sweetpea. Mommy hasn't used it." She reached for it, but he gestured for her to stand up. Sitting down in a chair, he handed the vibrator to her and said, "Stand in front of me and fuck yourself with this." It was an awkward pose. She had to squat slightly and hold up the edge of the babydoll with one hand while she used her other hand to slip the vibrator in and out of her hole. She felt the orgasm building up inside her, but then she heard the man say, "Don't you dare cum, young lady." "Oh please, Daddy! I need to!" "Filthy, disobedient whore! You'd better listen to your Daddy!" "Yes sir," she whimpered. "Look at me while you fuck yourself." She obeyed, even though it was excruciatingly humiliating. But she noticed that her humiliation was making her even wetter. Tell me what kind of a whore you are!" "I'm a dirty, masturbating, exhibitionist slut!" "And is it your fault that Daddy is so hard?" "Yes, Daddy. I'm sorry for making you so hard. Do you want to fuck me, Daddy?" The man was rubbing himself through his pants now. "Yes. Fuck you, you filthy Daddy-fucker!" "I want to touch you, Daddy. Don't you want to touch me?" "Yes...it's so hard to hold back...but we mustn't...it would be so wrong..." The girl was still masturbating with the vibrator, trying to hold back from cumming. But now she looked him in the eyes and started licking her lips with her long, agile tongue. She even stuck it far out and flicked the tip, showing him what it could do, and how much it could please him. The man snarled and said, "Take out the vibrator and suck it." She quickly obeyed, hungrily fellating it. She sucked it sensuously, flicked her tongue across it, then shoved it deep to the back of her throat. "Bitch-whore!" the man growled. "You've done that on other men, haven't you?" The girl looked chagrined as she nodded and said, "Yes, Daddy." "Who have you sucked off?" "Lots of guys. My favorite was my freshman English professor at school. He was so smart and so accomplished. Every day, if I did well in class, he let me come back to his office and get down on my knees and suck him off. I have to admit that I loved it. But I especially loved it because he reminded me so much of you, Daddy." With a groan the man stood up and opened his pants. He pulled out his hard cock and began to slowly stroke it. "Take the lingerie off and put down the vibrator," he ordered. The girl obeyed, leaving the high heels on, and then stood in front of him expectantly. "Play with your tits." She smiled, knowing how men were mesmerized by her natural d-cups. She caressed them gently at first, cupping them in her hands and coyly biting her lip. Soon she was squeezing and rubbing them more firmly. Then she began to pull on and tweak her nipples, till they were even harder and more erect than before. It wasn't long before she was pinching them really hard, the way she knew he wanted to. Her hips twitched with excitement at the mild pain. "Get on your back on the floor." She felt the carpet underneath her as she spread her legs, trembling at the thought of what he might do to her next. "Now lift yourself off the floor and arch your back, with your cunt way up in the air." She couldn't see him from this angle, but she knew he was taking pictures of her in this exquisitely humiliating pose. She whispered, "I'm such a whore...so dirty...I'm so fucking filthy...." Her arms and legs were starting to tremble from the stress of holding herself up in this gymnastic pose. But even harder to endure was the hungry throbbing of her pussy, aching to be filled. "Please," she begged. "please fuck me, Daddy. I know we said we wouldn't, but your little girl needs it so badly." His voice was trembling too. "You horny bitch." "Yes I am, Daddy. Are you going to punish me for it?" "Get up and bend over the bed." Presenting her perfectly rounded ass to him, she looked expectantly over her shoulder. She watched as he quickly pulled his clothes off and approached her. She felt him grab her hair in his fist and jerk her head back. She arched her back, ready for his cock. But then she yelped as his hand swatted her ass. He spoke to her with every smack: "Filthy smack horny smack cock-sucking smack whore smack!" Tears of pleasure and joy started to roll down her face. But the man stopped spanking her and began to gently caress her ass. His voice became soft and soothing. "There, there, Sweetpea. You know Daddy loves you." The girl's head was spinning with lust as she said, "I know, Daddy. Show me how you love me. Show me you love me the same way you show Mommy." Instead, the man went back to stroking his cock and ordered, "Reach under and frig your sweet pussy. Let me know when you're about to cum." She wanted to cum desperately. But not by her finger. Disobeying him for the first time since they had arrived, she reached around and pulled open her ass cheeks, displaying the sweet bud of her ass. "Haven't you always wanted to fuck me up the ass, Daddy? I know you have." "You teasing bitch," he growled. "Am I a bad girl for teasing? Why don't you punish me for being bad?" "You cunt! If I start and you say No, I'll rape your whore ass." "Oh fuck! I've fantasized about that so many times! About how you rape me, so it's not my fault." She couldn't resist putting her fingers into her slit and frigging. He pounded his cock with his fist, just inches away from her luscious ass and creamy pussy. "I should gag you so you can't scream, and handcuff you behind your back so you can't resist. You'll cry while I rape you. That would be the best part, knowing that it hurt and that you were saying No, but it was making you cum at the same time." She couldn't hold back any more. That thought put her over the edge. "Ohmigod! Yes, Daddy! Yes! I'm cumming! I'm cumming HARD!" She collapsed, panting, onto the bed. But she quickly noticed that the man was about to cum as well, so she rolled over and said, "Don't waste it. Cum on my tits." He got up on the bed and straddled her. As she licked her lips sensuously, he stroked his cock until his hot cum spurted over her tits. She smiled at him as she rubbed the cum over her chest. Both spent, they moved to the head of the bed and gently held each other. They whispered endearments into each other's ears, sometimes kissing on the cheek...forehead...neck.... They couldn't help caressing each other just a little. She smiled at how she could make him hard again, and blushed when he pointed out that she was wet again. Eventually, though, the man looked at the clock and said, "It's getting close to dinner time. We both have to get going." The girl nodded sadly, gave him one last hug, then got out bed. As they got dressed, she asked, "Do you think you'll feel really weird around...you know, her?" "I don't know. I hope not. Are you going to feel guilty around your boyfriend?" She shrugged. "I'm not sure. But I just know that there is something missing sexually from that relationship, and he could never give it to me." She smiled at the man. "But you did." He smiled back and blushed, just a little. "Well, however we feel later and whatever happens, I'm glad we finally did this." "Me too...Daddy." An Older Man Experience "Have you heard about Ross, Lorna and Ross' wife at lunch?" "No, Cindy, what happened?" "I interrupted them having a threesome in Ross' office." "Gee, too bad it wasn't me. I would have loved to see that." Young Natalie blushed as she spoke to her friend, the office receptionist. Nat was a mere twenty-two year old summer student, handed a job because her Dad owned the company which Ross the Boss ran. She had instantly bonded with Cindy, who was only a few years older, but was the permanent receptionist. Cindy also had entertained Nat with true stories of her boardroom romp with Ross and Elena, a reserved but excitable older office worker. Nat had refused to believe Cindy's claims. "I bet you would have loved to do more than watch," Cindy replied. Redness travelled down Nat's throat, colouring her upper chest, plainly visible in the deep V of her T shirt. She spoke quickly, breathlessly trying to cover her excitement, but really just highlighting it. "Well, you know how sexy I find Ross. I think it's an older guy sort of thing. My own Dad is so powerful; any guy my own age seems very pale in comparison. Especially my boyfriend, Ryan. He's incredibly good looking, has a cool car and his folks are as wealthy as my Dad, but, every time we make out, as I give him a hand job, I think to myself 'is that all there is?'. Somehow, we never get past that point. Not only does he not have what I think of as a big cock, but he comes in about three seconds. And I figure if he's not better at fucking than he is at fingering me, it's just as well we never get past third base. I need to learn from someone experienced, so I can teach Ryan. Or find out if he's a keeper." Cindy leaned in close to Nat, crowding her in the little store room. "You know I'm experienced." Nat felt her friend's sweet breath warming her tiny titties. For a second she hoped Cindy would just end the flirtation and reach up to cup those breasts, rip them free of the supporting uplift bra, and make them her snack. Instead, Nat said, "if only you had a cock, dear Cindy, I'd fuck you right here right now." "Oh, sweetie, I have a nice rubber cock right here in my purse. And two or three others in my desk if you don't fancy this one. I left my strap on at home, or I'd be able to fuck you for real right here right now." Cindy opened her purse with one hand as her other slid up Nat's miniskirt, stroking her quivering thighs. Nat was almost unable to stand; her knees were shaking so much. Cindy's fingers reached the warm center of Nat's desire. On the verge of melting and succumbing to her first Sapphic experience, Nat recovered and said, "I need real meat, not rubber." Cindy chuckled, her palm now cupping her friend's pubes. "If that's how you feel, Ross is a great choice. He has great meat, and knows how to put it in motion. I'd ask to join in, but I think your first time needs to be straight up. We can always try a three-way later." "What? Are you kidding?" "Not at all. There's a fax on my desk for Ross. He's in his office working. Lorna's at lunch. Take it to him now; you'll have lots of time before she gets back." Cindy abruptly ran her hands up under Nat's shirt, deftly unsnapping her bra. As Nat, without conscious thought, cooperated by shrugging it off, Cindy reached down and hiked the straps of Nat's thong above the waist of her skirt. "Make sure you bend over and give him a really good view. He won't be able to resist." Nat felt the resistance flow out of her as Cindy tweaked her nipples to full erection. "The final touch," Cindy laughed. "He'll never be able to take his eyes off these puppies. Even though his wife and I have big boobs, his favouring Lorna and Elena means that he like firm little titties. Yours put theirs to shame." Nat started to shrug, but found herself proudly thrusting her chest out. She was always embarrassed that she barely needed a bra. The boys at school, and even some of the mean girls, always teased her. Ryan basically ignored her boyish breasts. Cindy's tender caresses and encouraging words suddenly warmed Nat to the reality of their potential as weapons of mass seduction. Or at least, the seduction of one older boss. Cindy's 'final touch' reference left Nat shocked when her chum quickly bent forward and briefly suckled each nipple. "Now you're ready. Totally irresistible," Cindy giggled, and then she slapped Nat on the butt and swept her out the door into the hallway. "Go get him, girlie." Nat grabbed the fax and, emboldened by Cindy's support, floated to Ross' office. The door was ajar, but Nat knocked anyway. Ross invited her in. She was unsure whether to close the door behind her or not. Ross must have sensed her unease, "Leave it open. We can't have anyone thinking I'm up to anything with the Big Boss' daughter." Nat blushed, but quickly recovered enough to shoot back. "Up to something? What sort of girl do you think I am? That's sexual harassment just saying something like that. And I'll have you know I'm still a virgin, so my reputation is very important to me." Remembering Cindy's coaching, she leaned forward slowly, teasing Ross with a leisurely peep down her shirt. Despite what she had heard about Ross the Boss being randy, the rapid response as his penis grew rock hard still shocked her. She turned away a bit rapidly, trying to hide her embarrassment. She was excited that she could trigger that sort of reaction from a man old enough to be her father, indeed her Dad's right hand man. Fortunately, Nat's twirl drew Ross' attention to the bands of thong displayed high on Nat's slim hips. He admired how they met at the small of her back, just below a tattoo of a Chinese character. "What is that symbol?" he asked, buying time to look at the way the lace strips met, merged and disappeared under Nat's almost non-existent skirt. "I was told it was 'Friendship'. But I've always wondered if it really means 'Foolish Drunken White Girl' or something." "Foolish Drunken Tart?" Nat turned back to meet Ross'glare. "I am not a slut, so quit acting like I am." It struck Nat that perhaps this was not how Cindy would have advised her to seduce a man. Time to regroup. Ross meanwhile was more wary than ever about the risks he was running here. His chance encounter with Lorna had lead him on a series of adventures, but sometimes he worried about company policy, and the law. Was Nat about to be his undoing? The very word 'undoing' though just made him think of undoing her clothes - not that they looked like they had buttons. From where Ross sat, it looked like they would just easily slide off. Or he could leave them on her and slip his hands.... He shook his head, trying to clear those images out of his brain. Nat looked at his swollen member and grinned again. "Is this a new plant?" she asked, turning towards the window and bending over to smell the flowers. Cindy may have meant for Nat to tease Ross with the top of her thong, but this manoeuvre treated Ross to a full on look up Nat's mini skirt. In the reflective glass, designed so Ross could see out but no one could see in, Nat saw Ross instinctively cup his balls, his fingers brushing the length of his cock. She confirmed that Cindy was correct - Ross had quite enough meat to suit her. He certainly had Ryan beat. She turned, grinning. "If you walk around the office sticking out like that, you might break something." Now it was Ross' turn to blush. He recovered well and quickly. "By the looks of the points drilling through your shirt, I'm not the only one bursting out of the office dress code." "Maybe we should help each other out with our violations?" "I would hate to have to punish you." "I think you should. I've been a naughty girl. Daddy used to spank me if I dressed like a slut." Nat pouted. "He says I'm too old for spanking now. Is that what you think, Ross?" She turned and flipped her miniskirt over her waist, steering her tiny panties almost to his nose. "Never too old, especially with a tender rear like yours. I think it's been neglected too long." "Do it." "What?" "I've been naughty. Spank me." Ross reacted tentatively, rolling his hand gently around the bare curve of Nat's bum. He was not really experienced in spanking games. Adding this hot young dream to the mix almost scared him off. Only thoughts of how Lorna, or his wife, Molly, would respect him more if he took charge drove him forward. He sharply smacked Nat's right buttock hard enough to raise a red welt. She grunted and threw her hands against the desk as the sudden blow almost knocked her over. "Again. Harder." Ross slapped the left side. This time, Nat was braced to receive the blow, but still arched her back in response. "Look how hard that's made my nipples. I'm afraid you'll have to punish me harder than that." Ross reached forward. Left hand on her hip, he tore her thong away with his right. He stuffed the wet panties in Nat's mouth. "There, now no one will hear you scream." Quickly he slashed his hand across her buttocks once, twice, thrice. Each blow drove a grunt through Nat's gag. Tears stained her face, mascara ran down her cheeks. If she had entered Ross' office with romantic notions of an 'older man experience', she was learning about a whole other sort of sex. This was raw and animalistic, but still ritualized by the discipline play aspects. Ross pawed at Nat's swollen sex, his hand getting drenched by her wetness. He roughly spread her labia with his fingers, drawing his hand along her cunt and down around the curve of her thighs. His baby finger tickled her anus as he brought his fingers to his lips. Natalie watched his reflection in the window as he methodically licked each ounce of ooze off his hand, even licking at the webbing between each finger. "You taste sweet for a naughty girl. And you are very bad if you are so wet." Meanwhile, Ross ran his left hand up under Nat's shirt and mauled her breast, pinching the nipple hard enough to make her jump back. Her rear bumped against his erect cock, which he had freed from his pants just in time. "Not there," Nat panicked as his tip brushed her anus. "Who's the boss?" "You are." But then Nat thought, 'no, actually, my Dad is. I can take control once I have enough to blackmail Ross.' "You need to beg better than that, if you have any chance to avoid more punishment." As he spoke, Ross rubbed his cock along the crease of Nat's ass. He ran his left hand down the length of her torso, cupping her sex again. This time as he kneaded her pubes, he slid a finger inside her well, stopping quickly when he bumped against an unexpected obstruction. "Don't tell me you're a virgin," he exclaimed, shocked that this lusty babe was not experienced. "What's wrong with that boyfriend of yours? Ryan, that's his name, isn't it? Is he a pansy boy? He looks gay to me." All the while, Ross was rolling Nat's clit between his thumb and forefinger, while duplicating the motion on her right nipple with his other hand, and his erection continued to tease her rear. "Not that gay is evil or anything, mind you, you mean?" Nat taunted Ross, usually the master of political correctness. In punishment, he roughly squeezed her clit with one hand and her tit with the other. "Curious are you?" he asked. He ran his fingers to the gaping opening of her cunt. "I want to experience many things." Nat moaned and sighed as a small teasing orgasm rolled through her body. Ryan had never excited her like this. What amazed her most however was that she could almost never make herself come manually - it seemed always to need a bit of tongue. There were moments when Ryan let her down that Nat felt like going lesbian. She had engaged in tentative sex play with Cindy and other bi girl friends, but getting to this special place required a lot more effort than she had allowed in those petting sessions. She often was tempted to allow Cindy or another bi girl to lick her to heaven, but never had gotten up the courage to try it. But, as she had just said, there's nothing wrong with a little bi action. 'Hmmm. Maybe another day,' thought Nat as she focused on what Ross was doing to her. Ross' fingers spread Nat's labia and he slid his hand into her. Suddenly, he was surprised to encounter an obstruction. Ross could not recall ever experiencing a true virgin. This one had apparently not even tried a cucumber, a carrot or a dildo. He paused a moment, his fingers just toying with the walls of Nat's pussy as Ross reflected on the consequences of his actions. Deflowering her might lead to remorse on her part, in which case, Nat might complain to her Dad. That could cost Ross his job, one which not only paid well but presented ample opportunities for sexual adventures. Or, she might let Ryan have sloppy seconds. The young man might ask who got her cherry. Then everyone might hear. Or the jealous boyfriend might pick a fight. 'How high school, to even worry about it,' Ross thought. At that moment, Nat's pelvic muscles clenched down hard around his hand as she grunted through the gag, releasing the pressure of a stronger orgasm. "Fuck it," Ross finally said, not really meaning to talk aloud. Nat mumbled through the gag. Ross allowed her to spit the soiled panties aside. "Fuck what?" Nat asked, "Or is that 'fuck who?'" "Fuck everyone. Fuck the risk. I'm going to fuck you. It's high time you stopped being a virgin. You're such a tease, as a virgin you're a worse hypocrite that Britney Spears in her 'virgin whore' mode." "Yeah, well these days she just acts the whore. I resent the comparison; I'm no whore - ouch, what's that?" "You're also no longer a virgin. The chatter distracted you just enough for me to pop my hard cock in your nice wet pussy." "Ohh, it feels even bigger inside of me. I'm so glad I waited for a real man with a decent cock instead of settling for that dork Ryan." Nat gyrated her hips back and forth, instinctively drawing Ross' shaft deeper into her pussy. The tightness then allowed him to withdraw almost completely with no risk of sliding out. Ross grasped Nat's tiny tits, the modest swells of flesh just filling his palms. He dug his fingers in for a better grip and used his strength to rock Nat vigourously against his groin. They moaned simultaneously as Natalie's strong abs clenched around Ross' shaft, slowing his thrusts but increasing the intensity for both of them. "Twist my nubs, Ross. We...I mean I... always do that when Cin...when I'm by myself." Ross grinned above Natalie, enjoying the thought that his fantasies of these two twenty something girls being more than just friends might be correct. 'Well,' he thought,' not really shocking given Cindy's eagerness with Elena. Not sensible that she'd limit herself to older women.' He grasped Nat's tender points, using a thumb and forefinger for each. He pulled them taut, stretching them as he drove his cock deeper than earlier. "Oh, Ross," Nat moaned, "you're stretching me all over." "I'll stop if it hurts too much." Ross began twisting her nipples, rotating them towards each other. "No. Don't stop. It hurts, but it hurts so....so...good." Nat was gasping for air, Ross' hands lifting her as they kneaded her tits, forcing her hips harder back towards his groin with each stroke. Ross timed his next move carefully, waiting until his cock was almost out of Nat's cunt, only the tip balancing her middle. Using her tits as handles, he quickly and smoothly flipped her onto her back. She winched a bit as her back thudded against the hard wood of the desktop, but Ross' resumed thrusting stilled any real protest. "Sorry about that. I just had to do this," Ross explained, bending forward to descend on Nat's nipples, swallowing each in turn. Settling for the moment on the right one, he flicked the nipple with his tongue as he maintained suction, drawing her flesh into his mouth. All the while, Ross was fucking like a stallion locked into a brood mare. Nat was shocked that her pussy seemed to enlarge with each thrust, allowing him deeper into her womb. Her walls stretched, and then contracted to milk him. As Ross switched his mouth to her left breast, Nat massaged her right nipple, twisting it, momentarily ashamed that she was fantasizing that Cindy was her doing this while Ross fucked her. That sensation passed as a new series of miniorgasms rocketed through Nat's body, making her shake and shimmy up off the desk, almost hovering above the surface. Once she calmed down, she realized that there was another way she could put her fingers to good use. After all, she had lots of hand job practice, and lunch would soon be over. Leaving her right hand to continue matching Ross' mammary work, Nat reached her left hand awkwardly between their bodies, snaking behind Ross' thigh and grabbing his balls. Ross winched at the initial shock of the grasp, but once Nat found a solid rhythm with which to knead Ross, he resumed fucking her even more boldly. They both felt the cum marshalling in his testicles. "I didn't take the time to put a condom on." Ross warned. "Then you better hope she's on the pill," said a voice from the doorway. Ross and Nat both twisted their heads, for the first time noticing that Ross' wife Molly and his mistress/assistant Lorna were leaning on either side of the doorframe. Molly had one hand up her panties and the other stroking Lorna's nipples, which were flopped out the front of Lorna's open blouse. Lorna's own hands duplicated Molly's actions. Molly continued her thought, "It's a bit late to stop now, and if you don't cum, is she technically deflowered?" "To hell with that," said a fresh voice from outside the office. It was Cindy. "Let him cum on her belly and we three can lick them both clean. But he better be quick. I was Nat's lookout for this nooner, and other staff will be heading back soon. Lorna and Molly both laughed heartily at Ross' obvious embarrassment. "I guess you thought you seduced a blushing novice, sweetie?" Molly observed, stepping into the room. "She might be a virgin, but she's shown you that women are always the real bosses." "You stopped pumping into her Ross, that's not nice," Lorna added, "I hope our interruption didn't...oh, I see it did leave you a little soft." The boldest of the group, Lorna leaned over and kissed Ross' cock right at the junction where in entered Nat. Licking her lips like a cat; Lorna said "Honey and cream. Two of my favourite tastes. But Cindy's right, we need heavier cream." Lorna wrapped one hand around Ross' shaft, thrusting it into Nat, while she used her other to shove his ass, overcoming his inertia. Molly meanwhile stripped completely, leaned over to kiss Nat, and crawled atop the desk. Nat instinctively raised her head to lap at the older woman's already soaked pussy. "Doesn't she taste great, Nat?" Lorna asked, "I just finished eating that in the ladies room at the restaurant." "Turn about is fair play after all - I did go down on you under the table," Molly replied as she lowered her head between Nat's thighs. Her tongue focused on Nat's love bud, but incidentally teased Ross back to full hardness. Not to be left out, Cindy loosened her clothes and stepped behind Ross. Her hand joined Nat's massaging Ross' scrotum. Lorna and Cindy leaned together, tongues wrapping around each other. Cindy broke the kiss and started licking Lorna's exposed chest, swiftly homing in on her throbbing nipples. Cindy was the first to notice Ross' return to his prior excitement. "Here he comes," she shouted, forgetting for the moment that others might here her voice in the hall. She stepped back, pulling Ross with her. Molly managed to catch some of his ooze in her open mouth, allowing it to run down and coat her jaw, but most of the gism puddled on Nat's belly. An Older Man Experience Nat continued eating Molly, who lifted her face up. She kissed her husband sharing his own flavour with him. "Mmmm," Ross said, "I think I still recognize Lorna's taste here as well as Nat and I." Molly was grinning as Lorna leaned over and licked her chin clean before sharing a kiss of their own. Cindy moved around to make sure Natalie was all right, but quickly noticed that Nat still had a mouthful of Molly's wet cunt, chewing eagerly on the older woman's clit. As Molly rocked with her own orgasm, Cindy squeezed her head under Lorna's torso to do as she had promised, cleaning the ooze off Nat's stomach. Just the taste was enough to make the receptionist wet, or maybe it was the weird circumstances. Shaking her head to force the nervous conventionality away brought Cindy's tongue in contact with the tip of Ross' cock which still rested against Nat's throbbing clit. Cindy decided Nat needed a really big finish, so she teased Ross' member back to fat fullness. He resumed thrusting into Nat as Cindy tongued both of them where they joined. Lorna was an experienced group lover, so was able to split her attentions. Still kissing Molly, Lorna reached a hand inside Cindy's skirt, fist fucking her aggressively to force a rapid orgasm. Ross sensed Lorna might be left out, so he imitated what Lorna was doing to Cindy, glad his sexy assistant had worn her shortest skirt today. Within minutes, all four came, not quite together, but rather in an overlapping chain of convulsions. This time, Ross almost forgot to pull out, but Nat's feverish hip thrusts knocked his cock loose just in time for Cindy to receive his second load into her mouth. With that, Cindy sank to the floor, taking a quivering Lorna with her. Molly rolled off the top of Nat, twisting to kiss her husband again, and then gently kissed the recent virgin. As she caressed the girl's hair, Molly said "well, I hope you enjoyed that older man experience. Now, how about we set me up to give that Ryan of yours an older woman experience. I bet he could use one." Nat just smiled, not so innocently.