Loading...After I graduated from university I’d been pretty lucky, having walked into a very well paid job within a matter of months. However, the one thing that I wasn’t prepared for were the property prices in London, which made it impossible to get a mortgage on somewhere decent. Needing to find a place before I took up my new job, I was faced with a couple of options.
The first was to look through the paper and find a house share, but after three years of sharing a place with a bunch of other people in their early twenties (with the accompanying mess, noise and arguments), I was certainly not going down that route. Option two was to get a mortgage on my new salary which, impressive though it was, would only afford me a rabbit hutch in London.
I’d sat wasting another afternoon in a bar trawling the property to rent/buy section in the paper, and was lighting my umpteenth cigarette of the day when I spotted a small line advert at the foot of a column.
‘Lodger required. Comfortable house with all amenities, use of phone, bills included, close to bus route…’
I exhaled and took another gulp of my pint. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Peace and quiet, a handy location and the money was well within my range – a lot lower than I thought I was going to have to shell out, so I’d be able to save too. Fair enough, the lady who owned the house – a Mrs. Jameson, according to the ad – might be some old battle axe, but what the hell. I pulled out my mobile…
The phone was answered and I explained that I was calling about the advert. Mrs Jameson certainly didn’t sound old (middle aged, yes) and certainly not like a battle-axe. She told me that I was the first caller, as the advert had only first appeared in the paper that day and that maybe I’d like to come around to look the place over, and see if we got on…
‘Okay, so we’ll say seven o’clock, then? You’ll need to knock, as the bells’ not working. Oh, and by the way…what’s your name, love?’
‘Tom.’
‘Okay Tom – see you at seven. I’m Pamela by the way…Pam, if you like. See you later.’
And that’s how it began. Pam was great, the best landlady anyone could wish for. Well, that any bloke could wish for, anyway. Although it wasn’t in the original agreement when I began lodging with her, Pam cooked a lot for me, and even did my laundry without me asking. The first time she did this I protested, telling her she didn’t have to do it, but she wouldn’t hear of it. After all, she said, she only worked part-time, and since splitting with her husband a couple of years prior, hadn’t had to run around after a man, so it was a novelty – and at least I appreciated it!
I was bowled over. I knew how lucky I’d been, and to show my appreciation, I nipped out to the shops and returned with flowers, a bottle of wine and a peck on the cheek to say thanks. Blushing, she rubbed my arm, returning my kiss on the cheek and told me that I shouldn’t have. But, as you know, we’re always that much more appreciative towards someone when we find them attractive. I’ll explain…
Pam was, well…you know how lads always fancied their mate’s mothers? Pam fell into that category. Early fifties, full curvy figure, shoulder length brown hair, full lips, nice big juicy-firm breasts and a lovely round bum that had just the right amount of wobble. The icing on the cake was her style of dress. Invariably, this consisted of two things: tight skirts ending just above the knee and a pair of high-heeled knee length leather boots.
We got on very well. I’d moved in during the Autumn, and as the nights drew darker, and as my friendship with Pam grew, I stayed in most evenings. We lounged around on the settee, watching tv, drinking wine and chatting, and as time went by, we seemed to get closer and closer together on that settee, sharing the occasional hug or goodnight peck-on-the-cheek.
One cold dark Friday, I had made the usual attempt to battle the rush hour traffic, but my bus got caught up in a traffic jam. Combined with the onset of it snowing, by the time I got home at 7.30, I was cold, wet and pissed-off. Hanging up my raincoat, and kicking of my shoes, I noticed that the house didn’t seem much warmer than outside.
‘Pam?’
‘In here, darling. The boiler’s packed up. I rang the engineer, but he won’t be here ’till tomorrow.’
Pam was sitting on the settee, watching tv, wrapped up in a blanket. ‘You’re soaking love. Sit down and I’ll get you a towel. Do you want a cuppa?’
‘You read my mind’ I answered.
With that, she shrugged off the blanket and stood up, as did a part of me when I saw what she was wearing. A tight red sweater which outlined the curve of her ample bosom, a tight red skirt, which ended mid way between her knees and thighs and my favourite pair of her boots. Long, stiletto heeled leather boots, the toes nice and pointed, the leather black, soft and shiny.
As she passed me to go to the kitchen, she rustled my hair. ‘Get out of those wet clothes and get under that blanket before you catch a cold.’
I watched her walk down the hall, her bum swaying in the tight fabric and her boot heels clicking on the floorboards. Jesus, she was so…I blanked my mind. I was 22, she was over 30 years older than me…probably looked upon me as a son…stop thinking what you’re thinking, I told myself.
I slipped off my wet trousers, unknotted my tie and covered myself in the blanket, thinking that as well as keeping me warm, it would hide anything embarrassing that may come up…
Pam returned a few minutes later with a towel, a bottle of brandy and two glasses. ‘I thought we deserved something a little stronger than tea. Now budge up and give me half of that blanket!’
‘Yes miss!’ I said, giving a mock salute, and pulling back the blanket so she could sit down next to me.
‘Less of that cheek my boy, or I’ll put you over my knee and give you a spank!’ she replied, sitting down and handing me the towel.
‘Yes please!’ I laughed, adding ‘As long as you keep your boots on while you do it.’
She smiled, arching an eyebrow and giggled. ‘You cheeky thing!’
Pam poured two large brandies, pulled her half of the blanket over her lap and passed me a glass, all the time smiling. She looked like she was going to say something, but then just began sipping her brandy while focusing on the tv.
We sat like that for a couple of hours, watching tv, chatting and knocking back the brandy. Eventually, we were two tired – pissed – people snuggled up. Her with her head leaning on my shoulder, her arm wrapped around mine, me with my hand gently caressing her right knee. The brandy had taken affect – we were drunk and warm. The blanket had slipped off of Pam, and her tight red skirt had ridden up around her thighs. My hand wandered, and soon I was slowly stroking her leg, touching the top of her shiny leather boot, moving over the knee, and gently touching her thigh.
Suddenly, I froze with panic as Pam placed her hand on mine, as it was inching towards her skirt hem. I’d overstepped the mark…
‘Tom…’
My mind spun. Shit. What had I done? I’d felt-up my landlady. Oh Christ…
‘Tom…you do know you’re like a son to me…’
‘I know, Pam, I don’t know what to say, it just…I’m ashamed, I…I…’
‘Shush…’ she whispered.
Squeezing my hand, she kissed me on the cheek. The shiny leather of her boots squeaked as she uncrossed her legs. Moving her thighs apart, she guided my hand and pushed it under the tight fabric of her skirt. My cock stiffened underneath the blanket, and I turned my face towards hers.
‘It’s okay, darling. It’s okay…touch me…please?’
I pushed my hand up between her thighs, expecting to come up against her panties, only to be surprised by the fact that she was not wearing any. Her pussy was sopping wet, and as I lightly touched her lips, she moaned quietly. I slid a finger inside her, whilst pressing on her clit and at this, she spread her legs wider, lifting her left leg up and resting her shiny booted foot on the coffee table.
I leant in to kiss her, her hand pulling my head in towards hers as our mouths met, her lips engulfing mine. We kissed, and as we did so, my fingers slid out away from her pussy and reached out towards her boot. My hand rested mid-calf, and I slid my fingers slowly down wiping her pussy juices on her shiny black leather, before feeling my way around the stiletto heel and the pointed toe, finally resting with a grip around her ankle.
We separated to breathe, and Pam nuzzling her face next to my ear whispered.
‘Do you want my pussy, darling?’
‘God yes!’ I panted.
We kissed again, deeply, as Pam undid my belt, unzipped my trousers and began to stoke my stiffened cock.
‘You really want to fuck this old lady’s pussy!?’ She smiled as she wanked me.
‘I’ve wanted my cock inside you since I moved in here, Pam. The fact that you’re the age that you are, and the way you dress…and the boots you wear…just made it…harder…so to speak.’
‘So if my hunky lodger here – who’s been like a son to me – were to have his way, he’d like to…fuck mummy in her leather boots…?’
I gasped. ‘Please…!’
‘And would you like mummy to dig her stiletto heels into your bum cheeks while you fuck me?’
She didn’t wait for an answer, but took my hand, stood up, and led me into the hall and up the stairs. I watched her round arse cheeks swaying in her tight red skirt which had ridden up around her thighs and gazed at her long black boots…the stiletto heels, the long shiny leather on her leg, and the boot tops where they met the back of her knees.
We walked into her bedroom. Pam stood with her hands on her hips, smiling while watching me strip. I then reclined on the bed, my legs spread out as I wanked myself. She peeled off her sweater, before reaching back and unhooking her bra, letting it fall to the floor. My mouth fell open, as I viewed her big beautiful tits, the long brown nipples hardened, awaiting my attention. Pam then unzipped her skirt and pulled it down. There she stood with only her boots on. I was in awe.
She strutted towards the bed, and crawling drunkenly across it, positioned herself astride me. Pulling her cunt lips wide she slowly, tantalizingly lowered herself onto my thick engorged cock, gasping as she took my full length inside her.
‘I’m too old, tired and pissed to ride you darling’ she laughed. ‘I think you’ll have to do the hard work, baby.’
‘Roll over’ I whispered.
We rolled over as one, before I parted her thighs, drove my hard swollen cock into her, and gripped her booted legs around the back of mine. I slowly stroked in and out of Pam, and knowing what I wanted, she took her cue and raised her knees, clamping her shiny black boots alongside my waist. The heels dug into my sides as the leather stuck to my sweating body.
‘Is that what you want love? Fuck me nice and hard…come on…fuck me…fuck me in my boots’
‘Oh fucking hell, yes…in your boots…your dirty leather boots…’
‘Fuck mummy in her boots…fuck me…oh God!…I’m a slut…I’m a dirty fucking slut…come on darling…I’m in my slutty high heeled boots for you…’
Pam moaned and whimpered as I fucked her harder and faster, and as her long nails dug into my back, I felt her leather boots clamp harder against my sides and the sharp stiletto heels dig further into my flesh.
‘Oh fuck…yes…!’ she gasped as she held me tighter and I felt her pussy juices wash around my cock as she came. She flung her arms back against the pillows and tried to catch her breath. At this point I was so, so close to cumming too.
I gripped her ankles and lifted her legs up, bringing the soles of her boots right against my face so I could smell the heady scent of polished leather and sweat as I fucked Pam’s sopping pussy harder and harder.
‘Cum inside me love…please…cum in me…’ she whispered breathlessly. At that moment, with my cock taken to the hilt inside her, hearing those words from her was all it took. I pumped my cum inside her, my body juddering with the sensation, and collapsing into her arms, my prick seemed to pulse, shedding every last drop of spunk.
We lay like that for what seemed like hours, her arms around me, and her hands stroking my hair as I nuzzled against her breasts, my cock limp inside her juicy spent wet pussy.