Loading...When she crossed over I-80, Nancy snuggled her lean frame into the soft leather that was wrapped around the driver’s seat and kicked off her heels. The countryside and farms blurred beside her and she day-dreamed as the car continued its course, almost on autopilot, down I-57 towards Champaign, Illinois.
She enjoyed these drives. They represented the only time during the week when she could shut down, block out the irritations of her life.
No clients calling. No secretary disrupting her. No kids asking her for spring break money. These hours were hers and hers alone.
As she passed through Kankakee, Nancy considered her life. A single woman — well, divorced, actually, but it soothed her ego to think of herself as single — with two sons, one a junior in high school, the other a senior and just about to graduate.
Her husband had left her two years ago, but the divorce proceedings took about a year to conclude. He had filed for the divorce, the papers saying something about “irreconcilable differences.” The truth was their differences weren’t irreconcilable. Tom just wasn’t willing to work at the marriage. He had given up. Or so she had thought at the time.
But then a month or so after the divorce was finalized, she learned of his real motivation: he had a little bimbo on the side. In the year since the divorce, Nancy had yet to meet or even see the woman. Not that she wanted to. She would surely have torn her throat out, given the opportunity.
At the thought of Tom and Bimbo sharing a condo together in the Gold Coast, Nancy’s thumb absently rubbed the place where her wedding band used to rest
For all the pain the divorce had caused, for how it had upset the balance of her family, Nancy had weathered the storm fairly well. In his rush to get the divorce completed, Tom had given up any fight for the home in Winnetka and agreed to pay her $8,000 per month in alimony and child support. He also agreed to liquidate certain investments and to distribute a significant amount of the proceeds to her.
The divorce had also motivated her to improve her physical appearance. She was young and didn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone. She’d spend an hour-and-a-half at the club around the corner from her office three days a week; two hours on Saturdays. She had her breasts, which had sagged somewhat after breast-feeding two children, lifted. Her dirty blonde hair was always done and she visited the manicurist once a week.
She also changed her wardrobe. Gone were the mid-calf-length work skirts and high-collared blouses. Now, all her work attire stopped just above the knee and was open at the neck, revealing the full swell of her marvelous breasts. Sundays around town were spent in tank tops and tight jeans instead of sweat pants and loose tee-shirts. She had filled a trash can full of flats, replacing them with three- and four-inch heels that, in the summer months, revealed her gleaming, cherry red toenails.
“What an asshole,” she murmured to herself, recalling her ex-husband’s statement to her a few months after the divorce was final.
‘You know, Nancy, if you had dressed like this and taken care of yourself during our marriage, we might still be together.’
She shook her head at the memory, but then a sly smile parted her full, red lips, creating slight creases in the lightly made-up flesh surrounding her sensuous mouth. A few months after Tom’s ill-advised comment, she sent him an e-mail.
‘Thanks for sending me the check from the sale of the IBM stock. I bought a new BMW with it. I was sorry to see the mini-van go, though. I’ve had so many good times in the back of it in the last year or so. Ce la vie. I was a little embarrassed when Matt — you remember Sean’s friend? — and I dropped the mini-van off, though. The guy who inspected it before giving me the check must have noticed Matt’s cum stains on the floor because he gave me a knowing look. If I was thinking on my feet, I would have fucked him, too. Oh, well. Lesson learned. Thanks again.’
It wasn’t true, of course. The part about buying a new car with the stock proceeds was true, but Nancy hadn’t slept with her son’s friend. But the thought of doing so began fueling her fantasies.
On the weekends, after Sean and Jay had left for the evenings with their friends, she’d slink up to her bedroom, undress, and crawl between the sheets. Soon, an engorged nipple would be trapped between two manicured nails while the fingers of her free hand danced across her inflamed clit, her eyes screwed tightly shut. The backs of her eyelids were movie screens and on them young men with pulsing cocks and sperm-laden balls were fucking older women and dropping their cum all over them. Well, one older woman in particular: Nancy was always the star in these movies.
Out of embarrassment, she refused to divulge her wicked desires to her therapist. She knew the diagnosis anyway. At the age of forty-four, newly divorced and facing the prospect of decades alone, she was reaching back for a snippet of youth. She wanted to feel young and fresh and desired.
Despite recognizing the source of her cravings, they persisted. They became more lurid. More explicit. And she began putting herself in situations where they might actually come to fruition.
When her sons’ friends would hang around the house on the weekends, swimming in the pool, she would do yard work in her bathing suit and a pair of shorts. Nothing so daring as a skimpy bikini, mind you. Just a one-piece, but provocative enough that her breasts might bulge from the top or sides if she moved just right. Afterward, she would retreat to the sanctuary of her bedroom, lock the door, and stuff two or three fingers in her sopping, downy-covered vagina until her body shook and trembled with release.
Occasionally, Nancy would join friends for dinner or drinks downtown at places like Gibson’s or Tavern-on-Rush. She always dressed well for the occasions, donning sexy but conservative clothing. She’d stand at the bar ordering a drink and close her eyes in lust as she felt the young-bodied men rubbing against her on their way to the bathroom or to their tables. Beneath her bra, her nipples would thicken and she’d rub her thighs together before returning to her staid friends.
But for several months, her fantasies remained just that. She could never imagine being so brazen as to seduce her sons’ friends. She wasn’t a slut and could not contemplate waving goodbye to her friends as she sauntered from some pick-up joint on the arm of one of the young studs that occupied her fantasies. And she never worked up the courage to jump in her car on a random Saturday night and go to Jilly’s by herself, in search of a twenty-something to satisfy her lustful yearning.
In time, Nancy’s fantasies began to consume her personal time. While at work, she was focused. But on the drive home? Forget it. She’d daydream about getting bent over her desk by the young kid who delivered the mail. At night, while watching television, a groan would escape from deep in her slender throat when she imagined her lithe body being ravaged by one of the fresh-from-the-academy crime scene investigators. Her fingers became her best friends as her mind created ever more audacious scenarios to quench her thirst for young men.
Then, about six months ago, she was packing for an overnight trip. As an auditor for a national accounting firm, she traveled often. Her business kept her mostly in the Midwest, in towns like Champaign, Illinois; Madison, Wisconsin; Indianapolis, Indiana; Columbus, Ohio. Most of these places were college towns.
And then a thought occurred to her: colleges had bars and they had fraternities.
Then another: put a fraternity boy in a bar and . . .
Nancy abruptly stopped packing. She paced around her bedroom, gently chewing her lower lip. She went into her closet and surveyed her wardrobe. She put a short skirt and a tight blouse in her suitcase, and grabbed a pair of open-toed heels. She paced more and stopped before the sliding glass door that led to a terrace overlooking the manicured back yard. She was lost in thought, staring at her darkened image in the window.
Then she hurriedly turned and removed the inappropriate clothes from her suitcase and threw them back in her closet, chastising herself.
But then she retrieved them.
Put them back.
This cycle repeated itself several times before, exhausted, she curled up beneath the sheets and slipped into a fitful sleep.
The next morning, refreshed, she tossed her suitcase in the trunk of her car, jumped on the expressway and made the four hour trek to Ann Arbor, Michigan. In the dark recesses of the trunk, the short skirt, revealing blouse and vixen heels were tucked away in the suit case.
That night, after Nancy had spent a few hours on the beginning of an audit, the bed in her hotel room remained empty. In the wee hours of the morning, she dozed off to sleep in Room 8 of the Sig Ep fraternity house. And so began Nancy’s fervent efforts at satisfying her predilection for college boys.
As it continued over the following months, she was sure to keep her ex-husband apprised. He had heartlessly thrown Bimbo in her face, exposing her boys to the little tramp every other weekend. She therefore made it a point to let him that she, too, was capable of robbing the cradle, as it were. Every few weeks she’d send him an e-mail, taunting the philandering bastard:
‘I asked Jay to stay with you and Bimbo Friday night. I hope you don’t mind, but I have to be in Columbus at the end of the week for an audit and may not get back until Saturday afternoon. If you need to reach me for anything, call my cell. If I don’t answer, start calling the fraternities. I’ll likely be at one or another.’
As she guided her car toward Exit 240, Nancy rubbed her thighs together, her vagina beginning to moisten. She wasn’t expected at her client’s offices until 10:00 the next morning. Glancing at her watch, she calculated that she had almost eighteen hours within which to find a college boy, fuck him silly, and get some sleep.
An hour later, her conservative knee-length skirt, white silk blouse and suit coat hung on hangers in the hotel room’s closet. Her work heels sat neatly beneath them on the floor. Nancy strode through the lobby of the Hilton in their replacements: a pair of three-and-a-half inch Blahnik studded sandals. Figure-hugging, black rayon pants hid her bright red, silk thong. A soft, fuzzy cashmere sweater — matching her thong in color, incidentally — accentuated all-natural breasts encased in the 36D bra.
On her way past the front desk, her heels click-clacking against the floor with each purposeful stride, she vigorously shook her head to give her brilliant locks a little volume. She gave the clerk a playful wave, her cherry red nails gleaming in the soft light of the lobby, before pushing through the revolving door.
Finding her car, she wheeled it through town toward one of the college bars she had discovered during her last few visits to Champaign. “Located conveniently in the heart of the University of Illinois’ fraternity houses,” she intoned, a broad smile lighting up her beautiful face. She chuckled to herself at the e-mail she had sent to Tom the night before from her home computer.
‘Please call Jay tonight and check in on him. I’ll be in Champaign for two nights doing an audit. I’m staying at the Hilton if you need to reach me, but I probably won’t be there too much. I’ll probably go over to one of the college bars for a few drinks. If you’re ever in Champaign, you should check these places out. Lots of college kids (right up your alley, huh? Though I doubt Bimbo ever went to college). Anyway, my favorite is right in the middle of a bunch of the old fraternities. I know how much you love old architecture; I’ll let you know if the ceilings have retained any of the old styles.’
Nancy chuckled again as she parallel-parked her car a few doors down from the bar. After locking the doors, she pushed through the front door and strutted down the length of the bar, her heels slapping down on the dull hardwood floors, the lacquer having long since been dissolved by spilled beer and the ashes from thousands of cigarettes.
She took a seat on one of the barstools and leaned her elbows on the bar, careful to ensure that her large breasts rested atop the rail. When the bartender approached, she ordered a beer. Not her usual drink, but when in Rome . . .
‘Mmm. I love Rome,’ she thought to herself, her soulful eyes locked on the tight rear-end of the twenty-something bartender as he bent to retrieve a cold bottle of Budweiser from the cooler.
When the young man placed the bottle before her, she gave him a coy smile and slid a five dollar bill his way, telling him to keep the change. Taking a sip, savoring the cool liquid as it coursed down her throat, Nancy glanced around the bar. It was still early, only 6:00, and it was only Wednesday, so it wasn’t too crowded yet.
A tall kid who looked like a basketball player was playing pool. After his shot, he stood upright and Nancy caught the fraternity letters adorning the chest of his sweatshirt. ATO. Imperceptibly, she shook her head. ‘Nope. Been there already,’ she thought.
A muscular black kid with a shaved head and a butchered tattoo poking out from beneath his oversized tank top stood before the jukebox, feeding it dollar bills. She again shook her head. ‘Already saw the black fraternity houses,’ she mused, her mind racing back, albeit momentarily, to the last quarterly audit for this same client.
She had completed the work on Friday afternoon but didn’t return to Winnetka until late Sunday. She had a hard time explaining that one to Sean and Jay. Tom knew the reason, of course, and he had chastised her for the disappearing act when he dropped the boys off that evening. ‘Where do you get off not calling all weekend?’ he had whispered hotly.
With Sean and Jay upstairs, Nancy leaned into her ex-husband, placing her soft lips against his earlobe. ‘Getting off is exactly what I was doing, you fucking prick. Two nights. Two black fraternities. My jaw’s too sore to talk to you anymore, so get the fuck out of my house.’ That had shut him up in a hurry.
Nancy continued her survey of the bar. A group of four kids were at the dart board. Every time a dart missed its intended mark, the shooter had to do a shot. One of the kids, his hat turned backward, turned away from the dartboard and downed what looked like tequila. “Theta Chi” was emblazoned across his chest. Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘Brad? Brett? Something like that. Small cock, if I remember correctly.’
She twirled the barstool around to face the front of the bar, where tables were neatly arranged along the wall. At one of the tables sat a fresh-faced kid, facing her way, and two others with their backs to her. The one facing her had his sandy hair cut short. He wore no letters.
The three boys finished their mugs of beer at the same time and Fresh-Face rose, grabbing all three mugs by the handles. The barstools near his table were taken so he walked down a few stools, toward Nancy, before bellying up. He held the mugs up for the bartender to see.
While the mugs were being filled, Fresh-Face strummed his fingers on the worn bar. He glanced Nancy’s way, smiled nervously and looked away, but not before her shiny lips parted into a smile of her own.
“Why don’t you let me get those for you?” she offered.
Fresh-Face turned back to the stunning woman, his face blank while he tried to think of an appropriate response.
“Uh, thanks, but that’s . . . that’s all right.”
“Come on,” she insisted, reaching into her purse for a twenty dollar bill. “I have yet to meet a college kid that can’t use a free drink.”
Fresh-Face looked at the bill clasped between her manicured fingers, then back at his friends, who were watching him. One of them gave him a not-so-discreet thumbs-up, and Fresh-Face laughed, turning back to Nancy.
“Fine. Thanks. I really appreciate it. I mean, we. We really appreciate it.”
When the bartender returned with the mugs, Nancy slid the twenty across the bar. “These are on me,” she announced as the twenty disappeared.
Fresh-Face turned away from the bar, three full mugs of beer clutched in his fists. He took a step and stopped, turning back to Nancy.
“Uh, wanna join us? It’s the least we can do after you bought us a round.”
She pretended to consider the offer, her head rocking from side to side as though she were weighing the pros and cons of it. Truth be told, she hadn’t really considered rejecting the invitation.
“Sure. Why not? Just for a drink or two, though,” she accepted, sliding her firm bottom off the barstool. “I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”
She followed Fresh-Face back to his table and took a seat next to him.
“Guys, this is . . .” he began, realizing he hadn’t asked the lovely woman for her name.
“Nancy,” she informed them, reaching out to shake the hand of the kid seated on the left, opposite her. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m . . .” he began before Nancy cut him off.
“Don’t even bother,” she said to Kid-on-the-Left with a playful smile and a wave of her hand. “I’m terrible with names. You can tell me, but I’ll never remember.”
The three kids shrugged as a group and put their drinks to their mouths, swallowing a few gulps of beer.
Over the next fifteen minutes, Nancy and her prey made small talk about their majors and college life in general. When the four Theta Chis that had been playing darts at the back of the bar passed the table on the way out, Nancy leaned close to the table, her large breasts squishing against the top and bulging against the tight-fitting cashmere top. Kid-on-the-Right’s eyes bulged, too.
“So, guys, I noticed that the group that just left had fraternity letters on their hats and shirts. In fact, a lot of the guys in here have fraternity letters on their clothes. Are you guys part of a fraternity?”
“Not yet,” Kid-on-the-Right answered.
“What do you mean, not yet? Don’t people generally join the fraternity as freshmen?”
“Yeah,” Fresh-Face said, his voice low. “Most people pledge as freshmen. We’re freshmen.”
Nancy sat back and raised a finely trimmed eyebrow, considering this before leaning forward again. “If you’re only freshmen, how’d you get in here?”
Kid-on-the-Right laughed and leaned in close. His handsome but youthful face was only a foot or so from Nancy’s. “Fake IDs,” he mouthed.
A smile crept across her face and she sat back again. She crossed her right leg over her left, the spike of her heel digging lightly into Fresh-Face’s denim-clad thigh.
“Really?” she said, drawing the word out. If Nancy had been a cartoon character, a light bulb would have appeared in a bubble above her head. She brought the bottle of Budweiser to her shiny lips and pursed them, drawing the head of the bottle into her mouth and allowing the amber liquid to flood her throat before swallowing.
Placing the bottle back on the table, Nancy scooted her chair closer to the table, her long, manicured fingers using Fresh-Face’s muscular thigh as leverage. She put her right elbow on the table, retrieving the bottle, and leaned in close to continue their conspiratorial conversation. Her left hand never left Fresh-Face’s muscled leg.
“So tell me,” she whispered. “I have two sons about your age. One’s a senior in high school, the other a junior. I don’t even know if they have fake IDs. Where would they even get them?” As she asked the question, Nancy’s elegant fingers tightly squeezed Fresh-Face’s thigh, her nails digging into his young flesh.
He squirmed a little in his seat before responding. “Well, I got mine from my older brother. We kinda look alike.”
“Hmm,” Nancy acknowledged, tipping the bottle between her full lips.
“Mine’s just a piece of crap,” said Kid-on-the-Left. “Got it from some guy off-campus that makes fake IDs. Sometimes works, sometimes doesn’t.
While he spoke, Nancy smoothed the palm of her hand down Fresh-Face’s leg to his knee cap and then back up. She didn’t stop where her hand initially rested, but instead continued up his thigh, closer to his crotch. “How about you?” she asked Kid-on-the-Right, dragging her nails down Fresh-Face’s thigh again, feeling him shudder beneath her touch.
“Mine’s pretty good, actually. My cousin turned twenty-one last summer. He gave me his birth certificate and an old driver’s license and I went to the DMV.”
Nancy feigned a look that said she was impressed. She wasn’t. She didn’t really care where these kids got their fake IDs. She just wanted to keep them talking so that she could play with Fresh-Face beneath the table.
“Wanna see?” Kid-on-the-Right asked.
Continuing the farce, Nancy nodded her head vigorously. Sliding her hand up Fresh-Face’s thigh and cupping her palm over the bulge in his pants, she scooted her bottom toward the edge of the chair. Through the din of the bar, she heard him groan at her touch.
Kid-on-the-Right pulled his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and extracted his driver’s license. Nancy took it between her fingers and pretended to inspect it closely, her eyes shifting from the picture to Kid-on-the-Right. Her slender fingers continued to massage Fresh-Face’s thickening cock through his pants.
The fake driver’s license still in her hand, she turned to look at Fresh-Face. “Amazing, huh?” she asked.
His shaft hot against his thigh, he merely looked at her, not sure if the woman was referring to the fake ID or her palm grinding into his groin. “Uh, yeah,” he finally managed, nodding his head slowly.
The smile on Nancy’s face became brighter, her eyes sparkling. She turned back toward the table and gave the fake ID back to Kid-on-the-Right.
“So you have kids our age, huh?” Kid-on-the-Left asked.
“I sure do, young man. Well, not quite your age, but close enough.” Nancy allowed her palm to glide off Fresh-Face’s crotch and back to his thigh. She didn’t want the kid cumming in his pants. “Now tell me: do you all live in the fraternity house as pledges?”
“No,” Kid-on-the-Right responded. “Pledges can’t live in the house. He and I are roommates in one of the dorms,” he finished, the back of his hand whacking Kid-on-the-Left on the shoulder.
“And where do you live?” Nancy asked Fresh-Face, her eyes playful and dancing.
“In the dorms, too. A different dorm than them.”
Nancy nodded once, slowly. A smile broke across her pretty face and she let out a short laugh. “That is delicious. Just ab-so-lutely de-licious,” she said slowly, the joy evident in her voice.
The three kids all wore confused masks as Nancy brought the bottle to her lips again. As she turned it upside down, draining the remainder of the contents down her slender throat, her eyes floated to Fresh-Face who was staring wide-eyed at the spectacle of this older woman almost shoving a beer bottle down her throat.
“Uh, delicious?” Kid-on-the-Left questioned. “Why’s that delicious? What’s so delicious about it?”
Nancy put the bottle back on the table and considered the question, her glittering eyes wet with amusement. She leaned into Fresh-Face, her full breasts squishing against his lean arm. Her left hand slipped from his thigh but was quickly replaced with her right hand, which promptly traversed the young musculature to grind against his crotch. She brought her soft, shiny lips to his ear and whispered to him lightly. When she was done, his eyes bulged and then he nodded his head eagerly.
Nancy stood atop her heels.
“What?” Kid-on-the-Right asked, still confused. “I still don’t get it. What’s delicious?”
Nancy tossled Fresh-Face’s hair with her slender fingers and bent over the table toward Kid-on-the-Left and Kid-on-the-Right. Her large breasts swayed from her trim torso, visible down the loose neck of her sweater.
“What’s so delicious?” she asked rhetorically, her voice dripping with lust. “What’s so delicious is I’ve never fucked an eighteen-year-old pledge in his dorm room and that’s about to change. That’s what’s so delicious.”
Nancy righted herself and retrieved her purse from the table. She bent at the knees and grabbed Fresh-Face’s hand, pulling him, stupefied, from his seat.
“Come on, Fresh-Face,” she commanded. “Time to show me some dorm room architecture.” She playfully tugged at his motionless body until he followed her out the front door of the bar, struggling to keep up with the older woman.
Nancy pulled the awestruck kid behind her as she strutted down the sidewalk to her car. She beeped the doors open and quickly circled to the driver’s side as Fresh-Face, his legs numb and quaking, fell into the passenger seat.
“Where to, Fresh-Face?” she questioned, a glint in her eye as she turned the ignition key.
“Uh, up here, and take a right, then go a few blocks. I’ll point you the way.”
Nancy pulled the car away from the curb and accelerated hard to the next intersection. As the light turned yellow, she pushed the car through a right-hand turn and again accelerated, her mind singularly focused on reaching her destination: a college dorm room. She barely noticed the stoplight before her change to yellow then red, and screeched the car to a halt, its nose protruding into the intersection.
“Um, why do you call me fresh-face?” he asked as they waited for the light to turn green.
Nancy momentarily stopped strumming her manicured fingers on the steering wheel and turned to face him. She gently placed her cool palm against his warm cheek and pulled him closer to her.
“Because you have such a fresh, innocent look about you, silly.”
“Uh, well, I guess,” he stammered as the light turned green.
Nancy floored the accelerator pedal, pushing both her and Fresh-Face tightly against their well-padded seat backs.
“And I can’t wait to rub my wet cunt all over your lips,” she muttered, her focus again narrowed to the road before her. Beside her, Fresh-Face remained silent, struck dumb by the older woman’s blatant sexual references.
“Uh, it’s up here on the left. There’s usually spots right in front.”
Nancy slowed the car and nosed into a large gap between parked cars, almost running the front tire up onto the curb in the process. She slammed the gear selector into neutral, pulled the keys from the ignition and was out of the car before Fresh-Face was even able to release his seat belt.
Not hearing footsteps following her, Nancy paused in the middle of the street and turned back toward the car. “C’mon,” she waved, anxious.
Fresh-Face bounded around the front of the car and caught up with her as she stepped up onto the curb. The pair walked up the sidewalk toward the main entrance to the dorm building and, minding his manners, Fresh-Face sped up and opened the door for her. She smiled a thanks as she breezed by the young man and he led her across the lobby to the elevator bank and pressed the “up” button.
A moment later, the elevator dinged and Nancy and her college-boy treat stepped through the doors. Before they closed, another young man joined them in the elevator.
“Hey, Rob,” Fresh-Face greeted him, somewhat sheepishly, as the elevator began to rise. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Not much. Just got back from the gym.” He paused to look at the beautiful woman with his friend, and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Rob. I live down the hall from your son.”
Nancy took the young man’s hand in hers and held it, a lecherous smile spreading across her pretty face. “My son? He’s not my son. That would be gross.”
Rob’s brows furrowed in confusion while Fresh-Face chuckled nervously. “Uh, gross?” Rob asked.
Before she could respond, the elevator chimed its arrival and Fresh-Face stepped toward the doors as they slid open. Nancy moved to follow, but paused momentarily before Rob.
“I wouldn’t let my son fuck me,” she whispered to him, tracing a manicured nail along the line of his jaw. “And that’s what this kid is about to do.”
Nancy then stepped from the elevator, leaving Rob’s jaw hanging open, his neck craning to watch the sway of her tight bottom as she sashayed down the hall after Fresh-Face. She caught up with him as he slid the key into the door.
Nancy eased into the dark room behind him, shutting the door behind her. A harsh overhead light flicked on, revealing a small galley kitchen immediately to her right and a door to a bathroom to her left. She stood, her back against the door, in a small living room. A cheap, fold-out couch rested along the wall to her left, a big television with an x-Box 360 attached to it — she recognized it as the same model she had recently bought for her sons — stood atop a veneer stand against the right wall. Just beyond them were doors, one to the left one to the right, presumably leading to individual bedrooms.
“Hmm,” she grunted, taking it all in. “A little nicer than when I went to college.”
Remote control in hand, Fresh-Face clicked the stereo on. “Nice? This place is a dump.”
Nancy pushed herself off the door and eased along the galley kitchen, running a manicured finger across the countertop. “Young man, you don’t know the meaning of ‘dump.'” She stopped and turned toward him, leaning against the counter. “When I was in college, I had a roommate and we shared a room the size of this living room. And a private bathroom?” She let out a short chuckle. “Right. We shared a bathroom with forty other girls on our floor.”
Fresh-Face’s lips curled in exaggerated revulsion and he was about to ask her how long ago she had been in college. He caught himself but Nancy seemed to have read his mind.
“Don’t you worry about what decade that was,” she intoned, a sly smile creasing her beautiful features. She moved back across the suite, pausing in front of the door. “So, where’s your roommate?”
“Uh, I dunno know,” he stammered, shifting awkwardly as he stood before the couch. “Prolly at his fraternity getting hazed. It’s where he usually spends Thursday nights.”
“Mmm,” Nancy responded. She reached for the deadbolt and twisted it, the lock sliding home with a resounding “clack.”
She turned back to Fresh-Face and threw a lecherous smile his way before continuing toward the bathroom. She leaned in to take a look and crinkled her nose at the mess. A box of condoms — opened and slightly crushed — had been left on the bathroom countertop. “Nice box of rubbers you got there. They yours?”
Fresh-Face reddened and he shuffled again, awkward in the presence of this aggressive woman. “Uh, yeah. Well . . . we share . . . my roommate and I . . . well, not like that . . . just . . . you know?”
Nancy smirked at him as she sauntered toward the middle of the living room. She paused when she was about five feet away from the young man. Facing him, her smoldering eyes bore into his.
His eyes darted away, then back again.
A coy grin created faint lines at the corners of her sensuous mouth. Slowly, Nancy bent and dropped to her knees. Her hot mouth was parched and her soft pink tongue absently swiped across her full, bright red lips.
The dorm room was silent.
“Unbuckle your shorts,” she ordered the kid, almost in a whisper.
He jerked as though unsure of his next movement.
“Unbuckle your shorts.” Nancy repeated herself, a little louder this time.
Fresh-Face fumbled clumsily at his belt, eventually managing to pull the tongue through the buckle. Without the support of the belt, the baggy cargo shorts slid to his ankles with barely a whisper. His boxers were tented by what appeared to be a substantial slab of college cock beneath them.
Nancy leaned back on her haunches and beckoned the young man closer with a crook of a finger. Speechless, overwhelmed, Fresh-Face shuffled forward with his shorts still pooled at his ankles. He stopped, his crotch about a foot from the older woman’s face.
She tilted her head back, a warm smile lighting up her eyes. With one hand, index finger extended, she reached toward the front of his boxers. She gently ran the pad of her finger up the fabric that bulged over the length of his thickening shaft.
“Oh, gawd,” she heard him mumble.
Her bright eyes dropped to the fabric-encased cock and the tip of her manicured finger dragged back down its burgeoning length. She felt him tremble at her touch before the bright red nail slid up the slit at the front of his boxers, easing the fabric aside.
His knees nearly buckled and his heavy balls lurched beneath him.
Nancy eased her hand into his underwear and her cool fingers tenderly wrapped around the overheated tube of flesh.
“Oh, fuck,” Fresh-Face grunted, trembling still.
“Lovely,” she muttered, almost to herself, when the bright red nail of her thumb failed to make contact with that of her index finger. With practiced ease, Nancy coaxed the veiny shaft from the confines of his boxers.
A fat, angry-purple head protruded from the hole, six inches from her widened eyes. A milky, viscous fluid seeped from his slit and threatened to drop to the carpet that covered the dorm room’s floor.
“Closer,” she muttered, tugging softly at the thick shaft.
Fresh-Face shuffled forward a few inches, the shiny cockhead poised at the entrance to Nancy’s hot mouth.
She tugged a little harder and Fresh-Face shuffled again. The purple head brushed against her soft lips and a low, rumbling moan escaped his throat.
Nancy’s lustrous eyes eased shut, almost overwhelmed was she with the humid scent of the young man’s cock. As the head swept slowly across her full lips, it left a small trail of boy-cum on them. Her pink tongue darted out and captured the thick, heady sperm before retreating to the warm, now salivating confines of her mouth.
“Now that, young man,” she began, her eyes drifting to his, “is REALLY delicious.”
Her bright red nails tightly gripping the shaft, she guided it back across her crimson lips, then beneath her nose and she inhaled deeply.
Fresh-Face’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head, before screwing tightly shut in an effort to ward off a pre-mature blast of cum.
Nancy chuckled inside, knowing she had the young man on the brink of an orgasm. And she hadn’t even given him the privilege of her lipstick-smeared lips forming a seal at the base of his cock, or her strong, wet tongue slathering along the underside of his shaft.
She licked her lips, wetting them liberally, and then pursed them. She leaned slightly toward the young man until the super-hot flesh of his cockhead prodded at her mouth. She relaxed her lips a little to allow the spongy head entry. Above her, Fresh-Face trembled and grunted and groaned. Nancy felt him quake through his shaft as she slid her tightly-squeezed lips toward his pubic hair, pulling his foreskin taut.
“Uuuggghhh,” she felt him groan, and a hand dropped to the top of her head.
Nancy pulled her mouth off the young man, a string of saliva connecting the head of his cock to her smeared lips. “You gonna cum?”
“Oh, gawd,” he could only manage.
Nancy placed her fingers around his shaft, tugging gently, the soft pad of her thumb massaging the sensitive underside of Fresh-Face’s cock. “If I let you cum in my mouth, will you be able to get it up again?” she inquired, her head tilted back and to the side, studying his reaction.
Fresh-Face bit his lip and, despite his wobbling knees and trembling body, managed to nod his head.
Nancy opened her lips wide and took the length of his cock in the back of her throat, stopping only when she felt the rubbery head bump up against her tonsils. She dropped her gripping hand to his balls, kneading the sperm-filled sacs in her slender fingers. She then closed her full lips around his girth. Her tongue washed over the pink, veiny flesh trapped in the hot, wet cavern of her mouth.
Fresh-Face bucked once. “Uugghh.” The sound that came from his voice was a mixed groan and squeal, and he bucked again.
With her free hand, Nancy reached behind the young man and dug her manicured nails into the flesh of his ass cheeks, pulling his groin into her face. His cockhead slammed against the back of her throat and the heat of it seemed to sear into her gullet. Her soft tongue — slick with her own saliva and his leaking pre-cum — slathered over his shaft and she swallowed, feeling the tip of his cock slide into her esophagus. Her eyes threatened to water as she swallowed again, her throat constricting around him.
“Oh, fuck!” he groaned, his body spasming, fighting against his knees’ desire to give way. “I’m . . . I’m gonna . . . cum!”
Fresh-Face lurched again and Nancy, her elegant fingers squeezing his fleshy sperm sac, felt a stream of scalding sperm splash against her tonsils and ooze down her esophagus. A second, more forceful blast almost caused her to pull back, but her tightly sucking lips and her nails clawing into his ass kept the young shaft firmly planted in the back of her throat as he emptied the remains of his cum into her stomach.
“Holy . . . shit,” he muttered, his athletic body threatening to curl into a fetal position despite the fact he was still standing.
Nancy backed her pretty face away from the college kid’s groin, mourning the loss of the fat shaft buried in her throat. When the cockhead cleared her mouth, a thick rope of boy-cum hung perilously between her lush lips and the still-erect shaft. She released his balls and wrapped her slender fingers around the base of his cock, pulling her fist up its length. Cum continued to ooze from the spongy head and she collected it, and the thick rope, in her palm. She bent her head at the neck and allowed her full lips and tongue to slurp the sperm into her mouth before swallowing.
She sat back on her haunches again and looked up at the young man, finding him sweating profusely now. “God,” she laughed, fisting the slippery, hard tube again. “That’s what I love about you college guys. Dump a gallon of cum in a girl yet you’re ready to go at it again.”
She licked the remnants of cum from her fingers and gingerly got to her feet.
“On your back, young man.”
Fresh-Face moved toward the couch but Nancy stopped him.
“Uhn, uhn. Nice try,” she clucked, grabbing his hand and preventing his retreat. “On the floor. On your back on the floor. And get that shirt off.”
The kid did as instructed and was soon lying prone on the floor of his dorm room, his thick cock halfway to full hardness.
Nancy reached beneath her skirt, hooked a finger into the crotch of her thong and pulled it down, absently dropping it to the floor beside her. She moved toward Fresh-Face and stepped over him, her heels straddling his head.
Her eyes cast downward, her full lips parting into a wicked smile at the lust that clouded his eyes, Nancy slowly bent at the knees, her thongless vagina slowly coming into view as her skirt slid up her taut thighs. Her now sopping vagina a mere foot above his clean-shaven face, she paused.
“Let me see it,” she whispered, her strong thighs quivering in anticipation.
“See . . . what?” he grunted, his eyes wide at the image greeting him from above. A few drops of vaginal fluid leaked from Nancy’s waxed lips, a thin strip of blonde pubic hair beginning at the apex of her clitoris and disappearing up into her skirt. He shuddered at the sheer beauty of it.
“Your tongue. Let me see it.”
The college boy let his wet, pink tongue slip from his mouth, running it anxiously over his parched lips.
“Make it stiff,” she ordered, and he stuck it straight into the air, like a mini-cock.
Satisfied, Nancy allowed her thigh muscles to relax a little and slowly lowered her dripping vagina inexorably closer to the protruding tongue. She stiffened when the tip of it brushed against her clit, but lowered herself imperceptibly.
“Slowly wiggle it.”
Fresh-Face moved his tongue from side to side, causing it to swipe at her engorged nub, and Nancy gasped at the sensation. Blood rushed to her nipples, thickening them inside her bra.
“Up . . . and . . . down . . . too,” she huffed.
Beneath her, his fat cock throbbing now, Fresh-Face slithered his tongue from left to right and up and down, then in circles, toying with the older woman’s tender clitoris.
“There you go,” she whispered. A chill ran up her spine as fluid leaked from between her labia and dripped down her perineum.
“Make it stiff again,” she commanded her boy-toy.
She immediately felt the strong tongue cease its fabulous manipulation of her aching clit. Her thighs quivered at the exertion of holding herself over the prone college boy and she placed one of her hands on her knee, trying to steady herself. Her angelic face glowed with perspiration and she dipped her chin, looking down her lustrous body to ensure that Fresh-Face’s tongue was still, stiff and upright.
She shifted her weight forward a little and then lowered herself again toward the kid’s upturned face. His tongue, stiff as instructed, eased her swollen labia aside. She lowered herself a little further and his tongue slipped between the outer folds of her cunt. She shuddered at the intrusion and felt her feminine juices release.
“Yesssss,” she hissed, just above a whisper, satisfied in the knowledge that her pussy juices had just flooded Fresh-Face’s hungry mouth. “Wiggle . . . it . . . again.”
Like all good college boys should, he obeyed her command without hesitation, his hips involuntarily arching up off the floor, his lust-addled brain wishing it was his cock rather than his tongue penetrating the beautiful woman. His slick, pink tongue swirled around her inner walls, gently loosening the flesh of her labia. Nancy’s thighs ached and trembled and shook and finally could not hold her weight any longer. Her knees gave way and she dropped the few inches to his face.
“Oh, fuck,” she mewled as the kid’s strong tongue skewered deep into her inviting vagina. Her nipples throbbed and ached within the confines of the constricting bra. She reached between her legs and grabbed the back of his head, pulling his face tighter against her leaking pussy, grinding his lips against her, his nose against her inflamed clit.
Her force took him by surprise. Fresh-Face had been reveling in the sweet nectar that oozed into his mouth as his tongue probed the velvet interior of the older woman’s vagina. Then, with no warning, her pubic bone crashed into his nose, bringing tears to his eyes.
Nancy fell forward to her hands and knees but jammed her overheated vagina back on the kid’s face. Her large breasts hung from her torso as his tongue resumed its gentle investigation of her almost hairless pussy, easing her labia apart to sip again at the flavorful liquids pouring from between them. Her body heaved when the kid’s tongue swept across her fiery clit so softly that it almost tickled.
She pushed herself off her hands, again squishing her smooth pussy against Fresh-Face’s sucking lips and agile tongue. She urgently pushed the sweater up and over her jutting breasts, tearing at the front clasp of her bra. When it popped free, she filled her palms with her magnificent breasts, trapping her neglected nipples between her knuckles, pulsing them gently.
His arms, trapped now beneath her legs, bent at the elbows, the strong but relatively inexperienced hands coming to rest underneath her skirt, squeezing the firm cheeks of her ass, pulling her hairless labia harder into his slobbering mouth.
“Soooo sweeeet,” she muttered, her entire crotch now damp in her own juices. She released her swollen breasts but her thumbs and forefingers closed around her turgid nipples, pinching them lightly at first, then a little harder.
“Faster,” she panted, her hips jerking against the young man’s face. “Faster . . . lick me . . . faster . . . harder!”
She increased the pressure on her nipples, pausing occasionally to tug them away from her, distorting the ample breast flesh.
Fresh-Face’s tongue picked up speed, thrashing over her clit again and again and again. Fluid poured from between her pussy lips, saturating his cheeks and his chin and his lips.
Nancy’s hips bucked faster, more urgently, her clit slamming into the kid’s nose, almost making him cry out. Her slender, manicured fingers tugged at her nipples, more fiercely, then twisted them savagely. Her clit tingled and her nipples throbbed and her knees went to jelly.
“Oh my god!” she cried out, her body convulsing atop the young man. “Ohmigod . . . ohmigod!”
She felt herself fall forward and her lithe arms stretched out before her, breaking her fall. She trembled and shook and quivered in orgasm, loving the feel of her substantial breasts swinging pendulously from her trim torso as Fresh-Face’s tongue continued its assault against her clit. She jerked against his face, once, twice, a third time, as the orgasm washed over her athletic body, liquefied her muscles.
Still straddling the young man’s face, her dripping vagina still fastened to his lips, Nancy’s upper body collapsed to the floor. She took deep breaths, trying desperately to fill her lungs with oxygen. After a few moments, her heart rate began to return to normal despite Fresh-Face’s tongue making lazy circles around her sore clit.
She rolled off him and got to her feet, somewhat unsteady in the three-and-a-half-inch heels, her skirt falling again over her taut thighs. Her bright eyes locked onto the young man’s thick cock, looking like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but then he moved to get to his feet, as well.
She tapped him softly on the head. “Un-uh, again, silly boy. No one told you to get up, did they?”
Fresh-Face collapsed back on the floor, his thick, veiny cock swaying back and forth. Nancy watched it intently until it steadied, then her lustful eyes drifted up to his.
“You done?” she teased. “Want me to leave now?”
His eyes went wide and he vigorously shook his head.
“No? I didn’t think so,” she said, moving slowly around his prone figure. She stopped when she reached the opposite side of him and swung a lithe leg over his trim frame, straddling him, her heels poised at his hips.
Nancy lifted her skirt again, revealing her swollen labia. The insides of her thighs glistened. A manicured finger rested at the top of her clit, pointing downward.
“You want this?”
Fresh-Face, his eager eyes hooded in lust, just nodded his head.
“I can’t hear you,” she coaxed him along, in a sing-song voice.
He swallowed hard and croaked, “Yeah.”
“Yes what?” she teased him, again allowing her knees to buckle, lowering her sodden vagina closer to the kid’s towering cock.
“Yes,” he began, his eyes locked on the beautiful pussy as it neared the tip of his cock. “Yes, I want that.”
Nancy’s manicured finger tripped over her tender clit a few times and she shuddered. “What . . . do you . . . want to do . . . with it?” she panted.
Fresh-Face groaned in frustration, but his left hand found his cock, stroked it once. “Put this . . . in . . . it.”
She lowered herself further, stopping only as she felt the superheated cockhead graze against her still dripping labia. “‘Put this in it’?” she laughed. “Come on, Fresh-Face. You can do better than that. Tell me. Don’t hold back. Tell me what you want.”
“I . . . I wanna . . . have sex . . . with you,” he panted.
Nancy wiggled her hips a little, forcing the young man’s cockhead between the folds of her vagina. She smiled sweetly as his eyes rolled into his head.
“Have sex?” she asked. “That’s what you wanna do? Have sex?”
“Mm-hm,” he muttered, his eyes screwed tightly shut now. Her vaginal fluids ran down the length of his veiny shaft, collecting in his soft pubic hair.
“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me?” Nancy inquired, sweetness dripping from her glossy lips.
Fresh-Face could only whimper and nod his head.
Nancy enjoyed this. The power. The hold she had over the young man. That’s why she liked him. Why she liked all young men. She could control them. Make them beg and whimper and moan.
“Then say it,” she whispered, softly touching his cheek with her free hand, the manicured nails scraping lightly across his flesh. “Say it. Beg for it!”
“Uuuggghhh, pleeeeaaassseee,” he moaned, his body squirming, his hips arching off the floor in a futile effort to bury his aching cock in the older woman’s dripping vagina. “Please let me fuck you . . . please . . . let me . . . fuck . . . you!”
Nancy allowed the college kid to writhe beneath her for just a moment longer, drawing out his agony.
“If you insist,” she whispered with a chuckle. Before the words escaped her lush lips, she relaxed her thighs and allowed her body to fall atop the young man. His fat, pulsing cock shoved her labia aside, stretched the walls of her overheated vagina and impaled her to the root, his pubic hair tickling the sensitive, hairless flesh around her clit.
“Uuuugggghhhhhhh,” he groaned, his hands reaching for her firm ass.
Nancy held him there for a moment, twisting her hips and grinding her clit against his pelvic bone. Then she pushed up, slowly, dragging her slick vaginal lips up the entire length of Fresh-Face’s glistening shaft.
“Is that how you like it, young man?” she asked, the bulb of his cock still ensconced in her wet hole.
“Yeah,” he managed, arching his hips again.
“Or, do you like it like this?” Nancy slowly lowered herself on the fat pole, taking forever and a day before she felt the tickle of his pubic hair, his nut sac squishing against her ass. Fresh-Face squirmed beneath her.
“Mm-hm,” he sputtered, his strong hands on her ass trying to push her up so that he could impale her again.
“Or maybe,” she teased, kicking her feet out from underneath her and going to her knees, “maybe you like it this way better.” She leaned forward, the young thick cock still buried in her, and let her substantial breasts fall against the soft features of his face. She twisted her torso left and right, her breasts swinging against his face.
Fresh-Face responded, his lips searching for a thick nipple. He couldn’t quite capture one as Nancy’s breasts floated left then right. She chuckled inwardly, watching between her swaying tits as his lips pursed, like a newborn, searching for an engorged teat. But she steadied herself after a moment, pushed up a little. When her massive breasts stopped swinging, she lowered a fat nipple directly into the kid’s waiting mouth.
He slurped it up, sucking the thick bud between his teeth, and his hips arched, pushing his thick stalk deep into Nancy’s willing vagina.
“There you go, young man,” she cooed, luxuriating in the sensation of her cuntal walls stretching to accommodate the thick slab of college-aged cock. “Suck my nipples . . . harder . . . harder . . . there you gooooo!”
Nancy’s hips maintained an even, controlled rocking while beneath her, Fresh-Face jerked and quivered, his mind overloading with lust as her tight cunt pulled and tugged at his fat cock, her full tits and turgid nipples filling his mouth.
She slid a hand beneath his head, pulling him tighter into her cleavage, and his teeth nipped at an aching teat.
“Uugghh,” she moaned, tossing her head back, her lustrous locks whipping over her shoulder. “Yesssssss! Bite . . . ’em . . . bite . . . ’em.”
A chill shot up her spine as Fresh-Face’s teeth sank gingerly into the raw flesh of her nipple. Her clit tingled and her asshole clenched.
“Har . . . der,” she managed, her sweaty body losing control of the even pace she had kept up on the young man’s bloated shaft.
She jerked violently as the kid’s teeth closed tighter on her nipple. It felt as though he’d nearly broken skin and Nancy’s body ceased all movement. The moan built deep in her gut, wrenching, painful almost. The muscles along her spine were paralyzed but working all the same, quivering as an orgasm tore through her lithe body.
“Uuuuuugggggghhhhhh!!!!!!” she bellowed, her body jerking haltingly now. She felt her cunt flood and her fluids gushed out from the tight seal her labia formed around the kid’s shaft. She jerked again and collapsed against him, her tits molding to the contours of his smooth face as his teeth continued to nip at raw flesh.
“Oh . . . fuck . . . you . . . sweet . . . young . . . man,” she panted as her hips slowed their erratic twitching atop him and his cock slipped from the saturated and loosened confines of her well-used cunt.
Nancy pushed herself up on her hands and then down the young man’s thighs, his crotch well lubricated by their combined fluids. She rested her perspiring ass cheeks on the carpet between his thighs and smiled sweetly at him, taking his pulsing length in both of her hands.
“You . . . did . . . well . . . Fresh-Face,” she rewarded, her breath returning to normal.
Trapped in her fists, the college kid arched his hips upward, trying to send his full length through the make-shift cunt she had formed. His stomach muscles rippled with the effort and Nancy hunched over, running her soft, wet tongue along the washboard formed beneath his glistening flesh. His cock nestled between her sweaty tits and Nancy began to stroke him in her cleavage.
“So . . . fuckin’ . . . delicious,” she groaned between swipes of her smoldering tongue along his flesh.
“You like that young cock between my big tits?” she taunted him, removing one of her fists from the fleshy stalk and resting it across the top of her breasts, forcing the soft, warm flesh tight around the shaft.
Beneath her, Fresh-Face’s eyes slammed shut, so exquisite was the sensation of having his cock buried in this older woman’s tits. His hips jerked involuntarily, sending his shaft deeper into her cleavage and his cockhead against the soft underside of her chin.
“Oh, yeah,” she cooed to him. “Fuck my tits, college boy! Fuck ’em!”
“No,” he whimpered, his body squirming beneath her ministrations.
“Yessss,” she hissed back. “Fuck ’em! I wanna feel your cum on me, young man!”
“Uugghh.”
“Cover those tits, Fresh-Face. Cover ’em with your thick, young sperm!”
The kid couldn’t withstand the heat of her cleavage and the filthiness of her mouth and jerked his hips hard against her breastbone, burying his cock deep in her again.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” Nancy moaned from her gut when she felt the thick shaft expand in her fist.
The head of his cock lost its texture, became shiny, and took on a deep purple hue. Thick sperm shot from its tip and splashed against her chest, just above her heaving tits. The young man trembled beneath her and twisted his body this way and that as Nancy kept up her assault on his spitting cock, keeping it planted firmly between her full tits.
A second and third burst of college-boy cum spewed from the slit that winked open at the crown of his cockhead and Nancy manipulated the shaft between her sticky tits, spreading the viscous pearlescence around her overheated chest and over her thick nipples.
Fresh-Face’s twitching slowed and his ass cheeks settled once again to the carpet. He lifted his head to peer down his body and groaned from deep in his chest as a long rope of his cum dripped from one of Nancy’s obscenely thick nipples to pool on his thigh.
“Amazing,” she whispered, her glittering eyes boring into his. “So much fucking cum.”
Nancy leaned across Fresh-Face’s prone figure and reached for his shirt, wiping it between and over her dripping breasts, cleaning the boy-cum from her sinful body. Dropping the shirt, she re-fastened her bra and pulled the sweater back over her breasts before standing and smoothing her skirt down.
“Thanks for the sperm bath,” she whispered with a wink, stepping over the kid and moving toward the door.
“Uh, Nancy? You forgot these,” she heard from behind her. She turned and found Fresh-Face rolled to his side, his spent cock lolling against his thigh, reaching for her thong.
“Keep ’em, Fresh-Face.” She reached the door, flipped the deadbolt, and pulled it open, but turned back to him. “So, do you think if I went back to the bar, your friends would still be there?”
A broad smile lighting up her pretty face, Nancy strode from the room, leaving the kid’s mouth agape.