****** Mrs. Hamilton's New Workout by Digital Pleasures ****** =============================================================================== Mrs. Hamilton's New Workout ************************************************************************ DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story containing sexually explicit material, and dangerous and/or potentially criminal conduct. It is intended for the entertainment of adults only. If you are under the age of 18 or are offended by such material, please discontinue reading this immediately. This story is web- published fiction. The author grants full rights for download, distribution, duplication, and re-posting of this story, so long as the author is credited, this disclaimer is included, and the story is unaltered. ************************************************************************ As the birds chirped under the soft shine of the Saturday morning sunlight, Mary Hamilton was completing the third lap of her daily power-walk. After a large insurance settlement from her husband's death in an auto-collision and some wise investments she ended up leaving her high-stress job as an attorney and her life had become quieter and more peaceful. She honestly couldn't say she missed James--their demanding careers having significantly frosted their relationship the last few years of his life. James Hamilton put the lion's share of his passion into his work, rather than his wife. Mrs. Hamilton's new-found leisurely existence had given her the time to finally get back into shape, and between her power-walking, yoga and Dr. Weil's books, she'd built a figure at age fifty-one that would put any college girl to shame. Looking at her certainly didn't bring to mind the typical image of a widow. Her slim, toned, 5'7" body was a perfect hourglass with shapely breasts and a firm butt which just begged to be touched. Her Spanish and Native-American heritage showed in her very long, lustrous wavy jet-black hair (which she was wearing up at the time), brown eyes, and very dark skin complexion. People said that her face resembled a younger Sophia Loren (minus the cleft chin). All-in-all, she turned heads everywhere she went (or raised them, depending on what sort of head we're talking about). Lately though, the ravishing widow's workout routine had been becoming a chore- -boring and monotonous. Normally, she enjoyed morning walks like these--her confident stride and the feeling of being so graceful and light on her feet-- but today she was just counting the laps and waiting to be done. Only two more to go, she thought. * * * That same Saturday morning, Eric Robbins was engrossed in a game of basketball with his new friend, Pete, under the driveway hoop at Pete's house. He was new to the neighborhood, his family having moved there only two weeks ago, and certainly glad to have made a new friend so soon. Pete was facing him dribbling the ball in an attempt to drive to the hoop. Suddenly his concentration was broken by the sight of a beautiful brunette walking on the other side of the street. Pete zipped right by him, laying the ball into the hoop easily and chiding his new friend. "Eric, man, you've gotta keep up your 'D' better than that if you want to make the team around here. I don't know how it was back in Idaho, but around here, losing your concentration like that will get you cut." Pete then noticed his friend's blank stare, "Eric? Earth to Eric..." He looked over to where his friend's gaze was directed, and smiled. "HI MRS. HAMILTON!" he shouted. "GOOD MORNING BOYS!" came the reply from the mature beauty. "Damn, she is hot!" Eric said as his gaze was fixed on her awesome butt. "She's old enough to be your biological grandmother, you pervert," Pete teased his friend. "Don't tell me you don't think she's hot..." Just then, an idea popped into Eric's head, "Tell me about her." "Well, not much to tell...she used to be a lawyer and her husband bought it about a year ago, and people say that she's loaded like anything. I see her around a lot before school. She really likes to stay in Shape." Seeing his friend's eyes light up, Pete grew curious, "What're you thinking, Eric?" "I'm thinking I might just take some goodies to 'grandma's house,'" he replied grinning. "I'll see you later..." and with that he began discreetly tailing Mrs. Hamilton. * * * Mrs. Hamilton had stepped into her front door and kicked her shoes off. Heading into the kitchen she opened the fridge and poured herself some orange juice. Just as she had settled down and relaxed she heard the doorbell, and looking through the eyehole she recognized the blond-haired teenage boy who she had just seen playing with the Smiths' son. She had a pretty good idea what the young man's intentions were, but was curious to hear what his excuse would be. This ought to be rich, she thought. "Hi, Mrs. Hamilton? I'm Eric Robbins." "Yes, Eric, I saw you just bit ago. Nice to meet you. Now, what can I do for you?" "Well actually, I thought maybe I could mow your lawn or something?" he said, knowing how lame that must have sounded but hoping she'd buy it... "Nice try, little boy, but it looks pretty trim to me...maybe you should tell me the real reason you're here," she said tauntingly. "Uhh...umm," Eric stammered, knowing how stupid he was making himself look. "I think you'd better run along, now little boy...Mommy might start worrying about you..." "Hey don't call me a 'little boy'!" Eric snapped. "Well, let's see...you're shorter than I am, which makes you little, and well, I guess with how incompetently you played basketball with your friend, maybe it's not accurate to call you a little 'boy'." Eric was getting pissed beyond belief by now. He would show this old wench what kind of a MAN he was! "Listen, you smug bitch!" he shouted shoving her from the doorway into her living room. To his embarrassment, she kept her footing and her lovely, full lips were still in a mocking grin. "Bitch!" he shouted again, this time, punching her in the stomach. This wiped the grin right off Mrs. Hamilton's beautiful face, and her eyes widened in pain and shock as the wind got knocked out of her. "Not laughing now, are you, BITCH?" he taunted, emphasizing the "BITCH" with a kick to the thighs. Mrs. Hamilton's shapely body dropped to the ground, limp. She howled in agony, starting to sob. Eric figured that he'd broken her and leapt down onto her, straddling her hip, and pressing his hard-on into her groin-effecting a dry- fuck and simultaneously fondling her breasts. "Damn, Mrs. H., your boobs are awesome!" Eric said in delight amid Mrs. Hamilton's flailing and struggling. Eric couldn't believe how hard it was getting to keep her pinned. The old bitch was strong as fuck! He moved his hands from her breasts to her arms, in order to maintain more control over her, but the hot old bitch kept trying to buck, which served to excite him even more. Deep in the back of his mind, he knew that he was doing something wrong-something illegal, but in his aroused state it never totally registered. Mrs. Hamilton continued writhing in her young aggressor's grip trying to get free. Damn! She cursed herself. Even after he'd shoved her, she didn't get her guard up and she'd let him get a dominant position. His grip on her arms still wasn't 100%. She could tell that he didn't quite outclass her strength, but she didn't know if she could get free. She could feel his erection against her pelvis and could tell that if she didn't do something now, he'd rape her, and probably be none-too-gentle about it. She was a proud woman--the last thing she'd stand for is being raped by some goofy kid. Her sense of indignation at this kicked in, and she started thrashing more and more violently. Eric's grip on her wrists began to weaken and feeling this she jerked free of them and jammed her right palm into his chin--snapping his head back. She then got her legs out from under him and quickly wrapped them around his waist in a reverse straddle, and began squeezing the teenager's upper body with her shapely thighs. Eric couldn't believe it! Just a few moments ago he had this bitch under control, but now he felt the life being squeezed out of him by her legs. With a quick thrash of her hips, Mrs. Hamilton swung the captive boy to her left and reversed their positions, with her now in control from the mount. She quickly grabbed his wrists and held tight. Eric felt the circulation being cut off to his hands under the older woman's iron grip. "It's time for the old lady to teach little sissy boy a lesson: REAL MEN don't victimize helpless ladies!" she scolded, her brown eyes flashing with anger. Eric's face grew red with fear and humiliation. How was it that a red-blooded American boy like him was getting his ass handed to him by this hot old bitch? For the life of him, he couldn't free himself from her grip, when he suddenly thought to thrash his hips and try to free his legs like she did, but unfortunately, she was one step ahead of him and had begun riding him higher and bouncing on his ribcage--constantly knocking the wind out of him. He came to the dreadful realization that in her angered state he was no match for her and she was going to obliterate his male ego piece by piece, and yet he found that through all of this, he was only getting more and more aroused. He looked up at Mrs. Hamilton's face and saw that during the struggles her hair had come down. His mind fixated on that to suppress his beating and humiliation. He couldn't believe how beautiful she looked, with her long black hair framing the features of her dark-complectioned face. He felt the strength seeping from his body under the physical dominance of this sexy old woman. She felt him weakening too and at that time removed her hands from his wrists and placed them around his neck, squeezing tight. Eric could feel his vision blurring and his head growing lighter and lighter. He tried to keep his mind on the beautiful face in front of him, but as his vision continued to blur, he found his eyes growing heavy...until his consciousness left him. When Mrs. Hamilton saw that she had put the boy out cold, she removed her hands from his neck, caught her breath, and admired her handiwork. She stood up with one foot gently placed on his stomach in victory, flexing her biceps, and blowing kisses to an imaginary crowd. She then walked over to her guest bathroom and looked into the mirror to take stock of herself. She hardly recognized the messy, disheveled, warrior-woman standing before her. Seeing her undone hair, flushed face, and sweat-soaked body filled her with an immense narcissistic arousal. She then had an idea. Tying the boy up, she left him and went to her bedroom to clean herself up. * * * When Eric "came to" he found himself tied up, and still in Mrs. Hamilton's' living room. His body ached horribly; both from Mrs. Hamilton's bouncing on him and from the unusual position in which he'd been lying. "Oh, you're awake," Mrs. Hamilton said when she noticed his eyes open. Eric looked at her and his jaw dropped. She stood over him like a mighty goddess. Her long, rich, wavy black hair down over her shoulders. Her beautiful face, made up, and now hiding the few lines that were in it. Her generous lips, coated in pink lipstick. She had a tight fitting blouse on which wonderfully showed off her breasts, and she had a mini-skirt, displaying the smooth, dark skin of her shapely legs. He almost had the funny feeling that she had dressed up for him. Mrs. Hamilton pulled Eric's head up by the hair, and bent down to speak into his ear. "Don't worry, I'm not mad at you, actually, I want to thank you. I was getting bored with my workout routine, but you know, I think I've found something that might just do for jazzing it up, but there's just one thing missing from it." With that she put his head under her skirt. He saw that she wasn't wearing any undergarments. "I think you know what to do..." she remarked smugly. Eric's probing tongue teased her pussy lips and went into her vagina, eliciting low moans from her. He slowly and steadily built up her arousal and then pulled his tongue out and went up to her clitoris which he began circling feverishly. Mrs. Hamilton's body began writhing in pleasure as she gripped the teen's blond hair even tighter and forcefully fucked herself against his face until her climax built and she screamed and screamed in delight, gripping the young boy's hair so hard that she almost tore it from its roots. Eric greedily lapped up the beautiful old woman's juices until her orgasm subsided. After catching her breath, Mrs. Hamilton untied the boy and pulled his face up to hers. "You're a very good little boy," she said patronizingly. "I want you to some back again tomorrow morning, so we can have another 'workout', ok?" "Yes, ma'am," Eric replied, still dazed from the morning's events. "That's a good boy," Mrs. Hamilton said, smiling. She pulled his face to hers for a deep, long, passionate kiss--tasting herself in his mouth. "Now go home, like a good boy." With that Eric left the lovely old lady's house, the soreness hobbling his every step, but through it all, he had a broad grin on his face. NOTE TO READERS: I like getting feedback, both positive and negative. Don't hold anything back, be as harsh or kind as you like. My email address is digitalpleasures@seductive.com Yes, I know that this story is very similar to my first one ("For the Love of Mom"), but don't worry I'll think of a new concept sooner or later.