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Mother Follows Daughter

Category: Mature
15.01.2021
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My preference is for stories are all about the sex rather than with vast amounts of background, so this is in that vein. The plot is based loosely on a story I read many, many years ago; I don’t recall the author or title. I’d love to say this happened to me but that would be ludicrous: the scenario is a sexual fantasy and not meant to be completely realistic.

I was nineteen years old and in my first year at university. Away from home for the first time, I had joined a number of societies and clubs, largely in order to meet new people and make new friends — particularly female friends. My fellow students and I were free from the shackles of parental control; hedonism was the order of the day and I quickly found that any fears I may have had about sowing my wild oats were unfounded. I was lucky enough to be possessed of a certain charm and no little good looks, and the callow virgin I was at the start of the academic year had, nine months later, transformed into an experienced and, dare I say it, expert lover.

In late May, the debating society of which I was a member was holding its end-of-year dinner party, a somewhat fusty occasion held in the grand hall of the college and requiring attendees to wear formal attire. To be truthful, it wasn’t really my kind of event. I hadn’t actually attended any of the debates over the course of the year and was only going because I’d been persuaded to by my friend Charlie, who had his eye on a girl who was a leading light of the society.

Come the evening of the event, I was somewhat annoyed when Charlie told me that his hangover from the previous night of excess meant that he wasn’t going to be coming after all. I considered dropping out myself, but as I’d paid £30 for my ticket and gone to the trouble of hiring a dinner jacket, I decided to go along. I fully intended just to stay for the dinner and grab my money’s worth of booze, before heading back to the hall of residence for a night watching television and perhaps a solitary and unenthusiastic wank.

At around 8.15pm I arrived at the party and found my place at the table, marked by an elegant place card. Most of the other guests had already arrived; looking round I recognised a few faces but there was no-one I’d call a friend or even a close acquaintance. Next to me, on my right, was a corpulent and slightly sweaty fellow who grudgingly noted my attempt to introduce myself and immediately went back to regaling his companion with talk of how he would be joining his father’s investment bank after graduation. I resigned myself to an evening of boredom, and hoped that the expensive wines on offer would go some way toward relieving my ennui.

The seat on my left was as yet unoccupied. I looked at the name on the place card:’Lady Lavinia Rogers’. “I hope she does,” I thought, but couldn’t help but feel disappointed, as she would no doubt have the kind of equine features that my then-prejudiced mind associated with the nobility and what’s more, would consider me to be the kind of dreadful oik more suited to cleaning the ancestral ovens than being engaged with in conversation.

Some minutes later the Lady arrived, and immediately I realised that the first of my fears was misplaced — wildly so. She was stunningly attractive: slim and lithe with hair of a deep auburn shade, that fell in ringlets about her face. And that face! Mouth, nose and eyes almost perfect in form and yet with an other-worldly hint that denied any blandness that that perfection might imply. A smattering of freckles danced across her cheeks and an impossibly cute, but slightly enigmatic smile played across her lips. She wore a dress, which appeared to my untutored eye to be made of silk, burgundy in colour, with thin shoulder straps. My eyes, controlled almost entirely by my libido, noticed that she didn’t appear to wearing a bra, but then she had the kind of small but perky breasts that rendered such support unnecessary.

I stood to introduce myself. That smile again, this time with a hint of flirtatiousness?

“I’m Lavinia. Awful name. You can call me Roj,” she informed me in unsurprisingly posh tones.

“Very pleased to meet you Roj,” I replied, “I’m John,” and with that opening gambit, we sat down and started talking.

She, it turned out, had no more interest in formal debating than I did, but her father had been president of the society and his father before him, and it was therefore considered compulsory for her to be a member. Her family was minor nobility — apparently she was 317th in line to the throne. My suggestion that we plot together to bump off those ahead of her, one by one, was met with more grace than it deserved, and indeed after very little time we were chatting away like long-lost friends. No doubt the food was of Michelin star standard and the wine like nectar but it passed unnoticed, such was the intoxicating liquor of her company. To my pleasure, it was clear that she was as much as enthralled by my company as I was by hers. This was confirmed while we waited for dessert: I felt the touch of a stockinged foot on my leg, and saw that smile flicker across her lips yet again. This time the flirtatiousness was unmistakeable.

“That was you, wasn’t it? Or should I be making a move on my neighbour to my right?” I asked, pointing my thumb at the portly banker-in-waiting.

“Why don’t we skip dessert, pop outside for some fresh air, and you can find out?” she answered.

I don’t need to be asked a question like that twice, and less than a minute later, we were standing outside in the evening air. The street in which we stood was bustling with throngs of revellers and tourists taking advantage of the early-summer warmth, but we were oblivious to them. I looked into her mesmerising azure eyes, held her by her waist and pulled her strongly towards me. Our lips met and we kissed passionately.

Time seemed to stand still. Continents could have formed and re-formed, mountains could have been thrown up and eroded back to sand; I wouldn’t have noticed. The taste of her lips was exquisite, the touch of her skin so soft, the feel of her breasts as they pressed against my chest so erotic, that my cock began to spring to life almost immediately. As she felt its hardness against her stomach, her breathing became more hurried, and her embrace tightened around me. Then she pulled her lips away from mine.

“Let’s go back to my house,” she said, insistently. “My parents are away this evening and we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“Your wish is my command, my Lady,” I responded — rather calmly, I thought, considering how rapidly the events of the night had unfolded. I turned round and hailed the first cab that came past. We slid into the back seat and she told the driver our destination, which was a street in one of the more upmarket neighbourhoods in the city.

“Lovely evenin'” said the driver. I began to reply, but got no further than “Certainly…” before Roj had once more clamped her face to mine. I noticed in the rear-view mirror the driver rolling his eyes and smiling. “I’ll be as quick as I can”, he laughed.

But Roj had no ears for him. Our kissing became yet more passionate, making my cock harder still, so that it strained against the fabric of my trousers. As if she sensed this telepathically, she moved her hand down to touch it, and I almost exploded there and then.

She pulled away from our kiss and moved her mouth to my ear.

“In a few minutes, this is going to be inside my cunt,” she whispered.

I didn’t believe it possible for my cock to get any harder, but I swear it did on hearing that. I had only known her for two hours and already she was talking to me like that — was I the luckiest man alive? She then licked my ear and moved her tongue down my neck, setting the hair on my nape on end. Her tongue was like electricity. Not caring about what the driver could see, I slipped one of the straps of her dress off her shoulder and pulled the top of the dress down to reveal her breast. She gasped as I took it in my hand and squeezed it, at first gently but then ever more firmly. I took hold of her nipple, already erect, between my finger and thumb, and toyed with it so that it stood out even more proudly. Her fingernails dug into my back and she began to gently nibble my earlobe.

“‘Ere we are,” announced the driver, “where d’ya want me ter stop? I could drive round the block a few times if yer like.”

“Just here will be fine,” said Roj, rather breathlessly, as I clumsily replaced her breast within her clothing. She shimmied out of the car and I followed.

“Cheers mate,” I said to the driver as I handed him a twenty. “Keep the change.”

“Cheers to you too, guvnor,” he replied. “and thanks for the show.”

I laughed, but by this time Roj was tugging on my arm, and soon we were climbing up the steps towards her house, an imposing yet elegant four-storey town house which would have had the pound signs spinning in front of any estate agent’s eyes. She fumbled for her key in her purse impatiently, although I confess I didn’t do much to help as I held her around her waist from behind, dabbed delicate kisses on her exposed neck and shoulders and thrust my raging erection between her pert bum cheeks, the gossamer fabric of her dress providing no protection whatsoever.

Opening the door at last, we more-or-less stumbled inside. Roj threw her purse to the ground and leapt on me once more. Our kisses were, if it were possible, even more passionate than before. We tore ourselves apart from each other just long enough for Roj to take off my jacket, rather violently loosen and remove my tie, and begin unbuttoning my shirt. I was still planting kisses on her cheeks, which were flushed rose-red, almost as if they had been slapped.

As soon as my shirt was off, I had the rather easier job of slipping the straps of my lover’s dress from her shoulders and letting gravity do the rest, the dress then forming a magenta puddle on the ground. A vision of beauty, such as I could not have envisaged I would ever see, stood before me. She was not tall, and while slim was not skinny. Her skin was pale, almost creamy, and was made to seem like porcelain by the rich red of her hair. Her breasts were not large — my not inexperienced eye estimated them as a 32B — but they stood up proudly, were shaped as if carved by Michelangelo himself and were capped with small but delightfully pink aureoles. Her torso curved inwards to her belly, out again to her hips and had all the athletic and nubile comeliness one would expect from the young woman of nineteen that she was.

I’d hardly had a chance to take in fully this beauty when she leant forward and began kissing, then nibbling on my nipple, the nibbles on the cusp of being painful and all the more erotically charged for being so. I thanked the gods that I had gained so much experience in matters sexual over the previous few months, as had I not I would surely have blown my load in my pants there and then. She proceeded to undo my trousers, and slid them to the floor.

“Get those fucking shoes and socks off!”, she whispered frantically, and I obeyed as if my life depended on it.

Now we stood in front of each other, wearing nothing but our underpants. There was a brief pause while we looked at each other, and I saw such a fire of lust burning within her eyes, which I knew was mirrored in my own. Then, without any further words, she grabbed my pants and pulled them down, allowing my rampant cock its freedom at last.

There was a gasp, perhaps of pleasure, perhaps of apprehension. I don’t feel that I’m boasting to say that my cock is larger than average, being some 8 inches long and very chunky with it. Was she beginning to regret the forwardness she expressed in the taxi? It appeared not, as she fell to her knees and took my penis in both her hands. Her hands were small and delicate and this served to make my cock seem even larger. Poking out her tongue, she licked the end of my cock, in doing so removing the droplet of pre-cum that was gathering there. She then proceeded to lick all around the head, paying particular attention to under the rim of the helmet and the frenulum. There was no doubt that she had taken time to learn the art of turning a man on — this was not beginner’s luck. As if to confirm this, she looked up at me and smiled — while still tonguing my cock — and then drew back and spat a big glob of saliva onto it. This was not the work of an amateur! Using the lubrication she had just provided, she began wanking me with both hands, then alternately removing one of those hands and using it to cup my balls. Again she spat on my cock, looked me in the eye once more, and then greedily began to devour my shaft. The feeling was as intense as any I had ever experienced: my cock seemed to completely fill her mouth, to the extent that I was worried I might injure her, but the act clearly held no fear for her. She took me into her mouth as far as she could — my cock was too long for someone so small to take in all the way without having first had training from a sword-swallower — but by God she was trying! Knotting my fingers into her hair, I began — slowly at first, — to fuck her mouth. With increasing speed I continued, as she spread my buttocks with her hands and grunted, as well as she could with a mouth full of cock, her appreciation.

It was taking every reserve of my willpower to keep from coming into her open mouth, and she must have sensed this. “Don’t you dare come!” she said, pulling away from me, “I need that cock inside me first!”

I needed no further encouragement. I lifted her back to her feet, put my thumbs into the sides of her knickers and slowly pulled them down over her hips as I got down to my knees myself. As I removed them a triangle of pubic hair came into view, but as I revealed yet more it became clear that she had had the hair around her vagina neatly waxed. I pulled the knickers completely off, tossed them to one side and spread her legs slightly, so better to afford access to her swollen and puffy sex. With my fingers I spread her labia, revealing her wetness and exposing her small, pink clitoris. Her pussy was as perfectly formed as the rest of her body — porn stars would have paid thousands to their Hollywood plastic surgeons achieve this level of shapeliness. I ran my finger between her folds, picking up some of her copious juices and put it to my mouth. “You taste like honey,” I told her, and she responded by grabbing my head and pressing my face to her sex. “Lick me then,” she commanded.

Holding her firm buttocks in my hand, I began to flick her clit with my tongue, first teasingly, then slowly more firmly. I felt her whole body shiver. Before long I was sucking her clitoris between my lips, pausing only to run my tongue along and across her labia.

“Ooh! Right there!” she moaned, grasping the back of my head and grinding her hips against my face.

I returned my tongue to her clit, which by now was standing proud and moistened by my saliva and her juices, and slipped a finger into her open and willing pussy.

“Oh God!” she exclaimed, “put it in me! Fuck me with your fingers!”

I began to move my finger back and forth within her, slowly probing and feeling her deepest recesses. As my finger rubbed against the ridged wall of her vagina, and my tongue nuzzled her love button, she grabbed my head even more firmly and began to shudder over her entire body.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ I’m coming!” she shouted.

I felt the convulsions of her vagina as she came and I swear I felt a wave of heat against my face as she screamed “Oh my God!” with no thought for what the neighbours might hear.

I stood up and we paused for breath. I held her to me, her delightful breasts pressed against my body and looked into her eyes. Her face, flushed with post-orgasmic ecstasy, looked so pure and innocent that it seemed incredible that such filthy language could have been uttered by her just seconds previously.

“Are you going to fuck me then or what?” she panted.

“I can honestly say that there has never, in my entire life, been anything I would rather do,” I responded.

With that I lifted her feather-light body onto the dresser that was stood next to us in the hallway. Grasping her by the thighs I opened her legs and pulled her towards me, so that her pussy was perched at the edge of the dresser. I took my cock in one hand, pressed it against her pussy lips and began to gently rub it up and down. She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me towards her, increasing the pressure I was exerting on her already swollen labia, but she was so wet that my penis was still able to slide across her pussy as though protected by a layer of Teflon.

Releasing me slightly from her grasp, she took my rock-hard cock in her hand and presented its head to the entrance of her vagina.

“I told you that this was going in my cunt, and I’m always true to my word,” she said with a wicked grin.

With that she gripped my again with her legs and pulled me towards her, forcing my member into her open and inviting hole. The feeling was remarkable — it was like I’d had an injection of adrenaline directly into my brain. Her love tunnel was so tight and yet so wet that we were like a freshly-oiled machine as I pistoned my cock in and out of her.

“That’s it,” she exhorted, “fuck me hard. Make me come again.”

I responded by increasing the speed of my strokes, making the dresser shake in time with the little moans that were escaping from her mouth with each thrust. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as I continued to pound her, my hefty balls slapping against her arse.

“Oh god John, that feels so good,” she told me, looking me in the eye once more.

I knew that if this carried on for much longer that I would be unable to stop myself from coming, so I picked up her petite body and told her to hold on to me.

“Which way’s the living room?”, I asked.

She giggled:”The door to your right,” and I proceeded to carry her through the doorway and then toward the sofa which sat in the middle of the room.

“Don’t drop me!” she pleaded, but I was fit and muscular and her small weight was no burden at all.

With Roj still impaled on my cock I sat on the sofa, which was easier said than done, but the manouevre was carried out without injury, and now she was sitting on me, my full 8 inches inside her. She paused for a while, slowly swivelling her hips as if she was getting my penis to explore every square inch of her insides. Then, putting her hands on my chest for purchase, she lifted herself up, then down again.

“Mmmm. I feel so full,” she purred. “I’ve not had a cock this big before and I fucking love it!”

There is something intensely erotic about a girl talking dirty, and the effect was heightened not only by her butter-wouldn’t-melt demeanour but also by her delightfully upper-class accent.

Once again she raised herself a few inches, and then slowly let herself down, rotating her hips a little with each motion. My swollen cock was as big and hard as it had ever been. I took one of those perky tits in each hand and gently tugged on them in time with her movements.

“Keep on doing that,” she said, as her thrusts became more rapid.

Her brow was studded with beads of sweat as her speed increased to almost a blur. The stimulation was so intense that it took every reserve of my willpower to stop myself from shooting my jizz deep into her cunt. Eventually I had to take hold of her by her hips and stop her from bouncing on my cock.

“I don’t want to come before you do,” I told her. “Let’s slow it down a little.”

With that, I took one of her butt cheeks in each hand and lifted her off me a little, while still keeping the tip of my penis inside her. She leant forward and began nuzzling my neck and planting little kisses on my lips and face, as I spread her cheeks with my hands. Very slowly she gyrated her hips, sending waves of intense pleasure through my cock and balls, but never enough to make me lose my self-control. I took one of my hands away from her bum and put my fingers to her lips, gently prising open her mouth. She sucked and licked my fingers, leaving them wet, while I began tracing the fingers of my other hand up and down the cleft between her buttocks. Initially I stopped short of her anus, but with each downwards movement I got a little closer. Eventually I was touching her arsehole, and each time I did a little shiver convulsed her. Taking my other hand from her mouth, the fingers now sodden with her saliva, I returned it to her arse and placed the tip of my middle finger on her anus. She gave a little gasp. I drew circles around her anus with my finger, occasionally teasing her that I might break the barrier leading into that taboo place.

“Go on then,” she said, looking me directly in the eye. “What are you waiting for?”

With great care I applied a little pressure against her anus, and felt her ring part and allow my finger entry. Little by little I pushed it further in.

“Oh Jesus,” she exclaimed. “You’re in my arse and it feels good! Don’t move it — just leave it there while you fuck me.”

I began slowly thrusting into her. She got back up to her knees, allowing me to see my cock pumping in and out of her open pussy. On each upstroke she was taking the full length of my shaft, up to the hilt, inside her, and with each stroke she voiced her pleasure: “Oh fuck… oh fuck… oh fuck…”

With the sound of her ecstasy and the intensity of the feeling of fucking her, I knew it wasn’t going to be long before I emptied my balls inside her, and it was clear that it wouldn’t be long before I felt the waves of her orgasm on my cock either. She dug her fingernails into me, threatening to rip my nipples from my chest, her moans rising to a crescendo: “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!”

“Oh FUCK!”

She leapt off my cock and finger as though she’d been shot.

And then I heard why.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD IS GOING ON HERE?!” It was the voice of a woman, a voice so posh that it seemed that its owner must shit diamonds.

I twisted round to see the owner of the voice. She was a woman in her late forties, with hair the same shade of auburn as Roj and wearing a long silk dressing gown.

“Mummy! What are you doing here?” exclaimed Roj as she covered her breasts with one arm and her pussy with the other. “I thought you were in Suffolk!”

“Your father was acting like a spoiled child again so I decided to come home,” replied the woman who I now knew to be Lady Rogers Snr. “And what do I come home to? My daughter acting like a slut and using my house like some kind of knocking shop! Get to your room at once — I’ll deal with you later!”

“Oh for God’s sake Mummy, I am an adult you know.”

“Don’t answer me back young lady!” This was a woman who was not used to being disobeyed. “This is my house and I won’t have it being used like a brothel! Now go to your room like I asked!”

Roj looked at me, her cheeks bright red with anger, surprise and shame. “I’m sorry,” she said, and with that she got up and ran from the room, hands still covering her modesty.

I then stood up, heart pounding in my chest from the sex and the shock, both hands covering my rapidly deflating cock.

“Please forgive me Madam,” I stammered obsequiously. “I suppose I ought to be going.”

I was half expecting the formidable woman in front of me to whip out a kitchen knife from beneath that dressing gown and set about my manhood with it.

“You stay right where you are, young man.” The authority she projected was mesmerising: I felt compelled to obey. “You have some questions to answer before you’re going anywhere.”

She walked up to me and with one finger poked me in the chest, and I fell back on to the sofa. She towered above me, her red hair seeming almost aflame. She had her hands crossed beneath her breasts which had the effect of lifting them and revealing a most impressive cleavage. It was clear to see where Roj had inherited her beauty, although she was a nymph and her mother was 100% Amazon.

“So,” she barked, “you think you can go around shagging innocent girls with impunity, do you?”

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered like a naughty puppy, “I didn’t realise we were doing anything wrong.”

“When it’s my daughter and in my house, then it most certainly is,” she retorted. “Now: uncover your cock. I need to see if you might have damaged her.”

“Madam!”, I protested, “I assure you no damage was done!”

Her voice became more icy: “I’ll be the judge of that. Now show me your cock before I call the police!”

Hollow though her threats certainly were, I could not help but do as she asked. I was as if hypnotised, and truth be told, was starting to be more than a little turned on by being told what to do by her, despite my vulnerable position. I lifted my hands away from my penis, which, though by now flaccid, was still swollen from its earlier exertions.

She stood for several seconds, staring at my exposed genitals, and then her gaze returned to my face.

“Make yourself hard.” There was steel in her voice.

“I’m not sure if I can,” I answered. “I’m in a bit of a state of shock at the moment.”

“If you don’t, young man, I shall not be answerable for the consequences! Now do as I asked and make yourself hard!”

I wondered how many maids and footmen had trembled in fear at that voice, but I felt a strange compulsion to push my luck.

“Perhaps I could, if I were given some assistance,” I ventured, for all I knew taking my life into my hands.

“Oh yes,” she glowered, “and what sort of assistance might you be talking about?”

“Well: you have a magnificent figure. Perhaps if you were to reveal some of it to me that would relieve some of the tension that’s stopping me from performing to your required standard.”

I couldn’t quite believe my bravado: was I really asking the mother of the girl I’d been fucking not ten minutes previously to strip in front of me?

“Don’t try to flatter your way out of this situation, my boy. However I do need to make sure that my little girl was not harmed. If this is what is required, then so be it.”

And with that, she undid the belt of her dressing gown and slipped it off her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. I couldn’t help but think of the similarity between that move and that of her daughter’s earlier, when I removed her dress in the hall, and this alone was enough to start my cock stirring towards tumescence. What I saw in front of me only served to increase the stirrings.

She was wearing a silk baby-doll negligee, largely sheer but with artful embroidery that covered enough to leave room for the imagination. Her hourglass figure was stunning, with an athleticism that was clearly the result of hours spent in the gym. Her breasts, though unsupported, rode high on her chest but appeared to be all her own; the negligee revealed a cavernous cleavage that I was already envisaging slipping my cock between.

“I see this is having the intended effect,” she smiled, looking down at my rapidly growing phallus, “but perhaps we can move things forward yet more quickly.”

She turned round to face away from me, and smiled with a glint in her eye as she looked over her shoulder. Then she parted her legs a little, leant forward and lifted the bottom of the negligee up to reveal the most incredibly plump and rounded bum cheeks I had ever had the privilege of seeing in my short life so far. My eyes almost popped out of my skull as I viewed them and the silken sheer knickers that covered them. The cleft of her buttocks was clearly visible; the gusset of the knickers was opaque and denied me a view of her pussy. Despite this, my manhood was standing to full attention, all eight fat inches of it.

She took one of her buttocks in each hand and began massaging them through her pants, still leaning forward all the while. As she moved her hands away from each other I swore I was able to see the puckered ring of her anus, but at this point it was difficult to tell if this was dream or reality. Although I hadn’t touched my cock since she’d ordered me to take my hands away from it, it felt like I was about to release my load at any point, and so powerfully that I would have shot myself in the eye.

She stood up again and turned back to face me.

“This is worrying.” she opined. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a penis this big in the flesh, so to speak. A girl of my daughter’s inexperience could almost certainly be harmed by having it penetrate her.”

I didn’t stop to analyse where this crazy talk was coming from — I was too flattered, for a start. She continued.

“You, Sir, should not be having sex with young girls such as my daughter. Only a mature woman has the necessary experience and skill to handle a weapon like the one you wield.”

“I’m not sure…,” I began, but she kneeled in front of me, leant forward and silenced me with a “shhh!” and a finger pressed to my lips. Leaning back again, my huge, rock-hard erection was now inches from her face. She looked down at it, her mouth directly above it, and let a large gobbet of drool fall from her mouth onto my raging purple cock-head. She watched with clear pleasure in her eyes as the spit enveloped my penis, and then she grasped my cock and massaged the liquid into my shaft and glans. Without ceremony she dived down onto my cock with her mouth, taking it straight to the back of her throat in one easy motion. I felt her soft spongy breasts squashed against my legs as she raised her eyes to look in mine, and I realised that she must be able to taste her daughter on my cock. Was she aware of this, I wondered? With my full length still impaling her, she took hold of my arms and ushered me to her feet. Her tongue was playing wild tricks inside her mouth, seeming to explore every millimetre of my cock from urethra to the base of my balls. How she was able to do this with her mouth stretched so wide was a mystery to me, and it was no surprise when she eventually came up for air, even if it were only to say “Fuck my mouth, you shit!”

Once more her wish was my command. I took hold of her by the hair and proceeded to pound my cock into her mouth without regard. With each stroke she gagged, and her eyes were watering, but the way she scratched her nails across the cheeks of my arse made it clear that she was not wanting me to stop. At that point she gave me an experience I had never before had: she splayed my cheeks with her hand and I felt the touch of her finger at my anus. Without waiting for my opinion on the matter, her finger was inside me, and almost immediately was buried completely up to the knuckle. The combination of pain and pleasure was almost unbearable and, after the initial shock, served only to make me pound yet harder upon her mouth. Eventually she could take no more and pulled away from my cock, replacing it in her mouth with first one, then the other, and then both of my swollen testicles. She sucked on them like they were toffee apples, fingering my arse all the while and pausing only to lubricate my penis with her spit as she wanked it with her spare hand.

By now, my cock was virtually numb from the beating it had taken this evening, and although I was turned on like I had never been before, I was unafraid of coming except when I wanted to. I felt like a veritable sex god.

“Did my daughter suck your cock as well as me?” she asked.

“Christ almighty, this is one dirty woman!” I thought. “A gentleman doesn’t make such judgements,” I responded to her. “Let’s just say no-one could do it better.”

“Very well,” she went on. “How do her tits compare to mine?”

With that, she removed her hands from me, and slipped off the shoulder straps of her negligee, revealing the most magnificent pair of breasts. They were large — probably a 36DD — but with no sign of sagginess. She squeezed them together to accentuate the cleavage yet further, and then lifted one up to her mouth in order to tongue the nipple. As she released the breast, I took them both in my hands and felt their heft.

“They are amazing, perfect even,” I told her, and I wasn’t lying. “May I fuck them?”

“You may.”

Once more she drooled on my cock, leaving a string of saliva between it and her mouth, which only broke as she then spat on her own cleavage, leaving her tits wet and sticky. She rubbed the spit into them, took hold of my cock in her hand and introduced its tip to her nipples, each in turn. Pre-cum left each nipple glossy as the rubbing made them erect. Then, still on her knees in front of me, she lay my cock between her fantastic orbs and squeezed them around it. I began thrusting up and down between her tits. At the top of each stroke she licked the pre-cum from my cock, occasionally allowing its tip to enter her mouth. The tantalising warm wetness of her mouth felt even more erotic than when I was rampantly fucking it, but I wasn’t about to blow my load now, not even as she spat on my cock once more to keep it properly lubricated.

“Now,” she said, removing my penis from the clutches of her breasts, “I need to be sure whether this penis of yours really is too big for my girl.”

She stood up and slipped the negligee off her body, leaving her standing in just those sheer knickers. Standing on tip-toe, she took hold of the back of my neck, pulled my face towards hers and kissed me passionately. Our tongues entwined as they explored the inside of each other’s mouths; she moaned with pleasure as I squeezed her voluptuous buttocks, having slipped my hands inside her underwear in order to do so. I massaged those firm and ripe arse cheeks, from time to time touching her between them and naughtily allowing their tips to touch her intimate hole. With our lips still locked together, I removed her knickers from her hips, allowing them to fall to the floor.

I broke the kiss.

“Let me look at you,” I requested, took a step back and gazed in awe at her beauty.

She was athletic yet with a softness that made her body even more sexy than it otherwise would have been. Her perfectly formed breasts and slightly rounded belly were set above a neatly trimmed bush and I could see that — just like her daughter — the area around her vagina was completely bare. Averting her gaze, for a moment she seemed almost shy as I took in the wonderful sight, but then she broke that spell.

“If you don’t put your cock in me now I’ll break it off!” she barked. “Come here!”

She walked over to the mantelpiece which stood over an impressive vintage fireplace and under a large, ornately framed mirror. Facing the mirror, she leant forward against the mantelpiece and spread her legs slightly so as to afford me a view of her pussy and arse. I could see the wetness oozing from between her labia and knew that I should not stand on ceremony. Grabbing her by the hips I entered her cunt, burying myself fully inside her.

A load moan came from her lips: “Mmm, that’s big. Don’t move. Let me feel it.”

I remained still as she languidly circled her hips, allowing my cock to penetrate every part of her sex.

“Oh yes. I could get used to this,” she said.

In the mirror I could see that her eyes were closed and she had a look of contented pleasure on her face. Her mouth was slightly open and her breathing was short and quick. I could feel the muscles of her pussy gently pulsing around my manhood, trying to coax it, as if it were possible, to become even harder than it already was. I moved my hands round slightly to take her buttocks in my hands, and spread them apart. Her pretty rose-bud of an anus became visible and I wondered whether I would be allowed to play with it later.

Her circular hip-grinding, bit-by-bit, turned to a pumping motion, and I responded by thrusting back into her. Gradually our speed and vigour increased, to the point where nearly my entire length was moving in and out of her with each stroke. There was a resounding slap of flesh against flesh and my weighty balls were bouncing against her clit. She was moaning so loudly that it was surely impossible that Roj couldn’t hear what was going on. I tried to keep the thoughts of our betrayal from my mind and continued fucking her tight hole with all my strength. Sweat was pouring from my forehead as she implored “Fuck me harder! Fuck me harder! Make me come!”

From some hitherto unknown reserve I found the energy to thrust into her even more vigorously, causing her moans to become a whimper.

“Oh God, I’m coming!” she exclaimed, and as I continued to pound her pussy she let out an almighty wail of pleasure: “Oh yes! That’s so fucking good! God I love cock!”

I stopped my thrusting and just savoured the feel of being inside her wet tunnel, as once more she squeezed my cock with her internal muscles. Reaching forward, I took her breasts in my hands and massaged them softly, as I tenderly kissed the back of her neck. Wanton abandon had turned to gentle love-making.

After some minutes she reached around and pushed me away from her. Turning round, she fell to her knees and began licking my throbbing cock, which was slick with her juices.

“I can taste myself on you,” she said as she looked up at me.

I knew then that she must have been able to taste her daughter’s pussy when she sucked me earlier.

“I love to taste myself,” she continued, and to prove it she put her hand between her legs, inserted and withdrew two of her fingers and put them to her mouth to suck off her nectar.

“Does it turn you on to see me do that?” she asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

“You need to ask?” I replied.

“Well no,” she answered, “but it’s nice to have confirmation.”

“In that case, yes, it fucking turns me on incredibly!”

“Good. Now prove it by coming for me.”

She took hold of my cock and started to masturbate me energetically. Although I was still numbed by the pounding my manhood had taken, I could at last give in to the intense pleasure I was feeling. As she worked me with her hand I could feel my balls tightening as my orgasm neared.

“Come for me,” she implored. “Come in my mouth.”

Those words were enough to send me over the edge. Like an unstoppable tidal wave my orgasm hit, exploding from my very core and shooting a hot gush of spunk over her face and into her open mouth. “Oh Jesus!” I moaned, as the waves of pleasure washed over me and the stream of jizz sprayed over her tongue. An intensity of ecstasy such as I had rarely experienced flooded through my entire body. My balls were still contracting, pumping a ridiculous volume of seed into her open mouth, so much that it couldn’t be contained and began dribbling out and down her chin. After what seemed like an eternity, my coming eventually subsided.

She had not swallowed and I could see that her mouth was still full of my cum. She lifted her heavy breasts with her hands and dribbled my spunk over them, allowing it to drip both into her cleavage and over her proud nipples.

My mind was swimming with what it had experienced over the last couple of hours and I had virtually lost the ability to speak. I just stood there watching her massage my sperm into her voluptuous tits, as she looked up at me, still with a look of lustful abandon in her eyes.

After some time she got to her feet. Then she grabbed the back of my neck, pulled me towards her open and willing mouth and kissed me deeply. I wrapped my arms around her and pressed her breasts into my chest as our tongues mutually explored each other’s mouths.

Suddenly she broke our embrace. “You have just been fucked by Lady Euphemia Rogers, an experience you will never forget. Now put your clothes on,” she ordered, her dominant tone restored, “you will need to leave.”

“Bloody hell,” I said, “you don’t mess about, do you?”

“No I do not. Now please do as I say.”

I really should have felt insulted by her desire to be rid of me so soon, but in truth her dominance was invigorating, and much as I would have liked to stay, I had to confess that I didn’t really want to have to face Roj the next morning. A feeling of regret came over me at that thought, knowing that we wouldn’t be seeing each other again. She was an amazing fuck, but more than that she was beautiful both physically and spiritually. I felt like I’d sacrificed a potential lifetime of happiness for one night of lust — exquisite lust though it was.

Roj’s mother left the room and returned shortly afterwards with the clothes I had earlier abandoned in the hallway. I proceeded to get dressed. I stood at the mirror to adjust my tie — although why I felt the need to wear it I don’t know — and to my amazement, I saw Roj, standing completely naked at the door, her hand touching her pussy. She lifted her fingers to to her mouth and licked her wetness from them, and then gave me a smile both demure and wicked at the same time. Had she been watching us all this time? I turned round, but as I did so, she shut the door and was gone.

I was about to follow when Roj’s mother interjected. “I said you will need to leave. Please do so.” Her manner was so matter-of-fact I could barely believe that only minutes previously I had been shooting a wad of my seed into her willing mouth.

“But…” I began.

“No buts!” she retorted. “You must leave. However I shall need to make sure that no harm has come to Lavinia, and I shall require you to return if it has. Here is my card. Please give me your name and contact number.”

Despite the surreally businesslike nature of this request, I felt completely unable to disagree, I did so, as her Ladyship stood in front of me, still completely unclothed and with my semen congealing on her ample chest.

“Thank you,” she said, and walked to the telephone and called a taxi.

Five minutes later I was in the cab and on my way home. I could not believe how bizarre my evening had been. Was Roj in league with her mother? Had she brought me back as some kind of sex toy? Did her mother know that Roj was watching us? Would I see them again? Either way I knew that this was a night I would never forget for as long as I lived.

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