Loading...I awoke early this Saturday morning, just like I did every other morning. Not having an active social life left plenty of time for “early to bed, early to rise.” Don’t get me wrong, I very much wanted an active social life, but I was shy. To tell the truth, I was painfully shy at times, especially those times when meeting or socializing with girls was on the agenda. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a virgin, I had had some experiences with girls, but to this day I suspect that the two girls who did it with me were more motivated by sympathy than true feelings of romance, or even lust for that matter. Let me tell you, being the object of a sympathy fuck did nothing for my self-esteem or my shyness.
Anyway, it was Saturday and Saturday morning was when I worked for Mrs. Webster. I liked Saturday mornings. No more bicycle rides to her house, however, I was now a college boy with a great ’56 Chevy, two door hardtop. I had saved every dime I could through high school to buy a great looking car. I thought it would change my luck with the girls but I spent more time alone in it than I ever imagined. Still, it was better than the bike.
I arrived at Mrs. Webster’s house at 9:00 AM, just like every other Saturday, and just like almost every Saturday, she was already at work in the flowerbeds. I called a “Hi” to her and went to the garage and rolled out the mower and trimmer. As usual, we worked mostly at our different jobs without too much conversation other than the usual banter about the weather, it was going to be a hot day, and how nice it was to be out of school for the summer. This was true for both of us. She taught sixth grade at an elementary school across town.
After doing the front and back yard lawns, raking the grass cuttings and leaves from around the backyard trees, cleaning the pool, sweeping the sidewalk, and returning the equipment to the garage we stood side by side and agreed that, together, we had done a great job. And we had, in fact. The yard looked wonderful. Actually, I thought it was Mrs. Webster who looked wonderful. Even covered with sweat and dirt, she seemed to glow. Then she did something she had never done before, she invited me to stay for lunch.
“Tell me Bob, if you don’t have anything else to do right now, would you like to stay for lunch?”
“That would be great,” I said, “I don’t have anywhere else I need to be today.” My friends could surf without me this afternoon and I would be happier taking covert looks at Mrs. Webster than at the girls at the beach.
“Great,” she replied. “I am going to take a quick shower, and then while I fix a couple of sandwiches, you can take one too, if you would like to that is?
“Sure, a shower is definitely called for right now, and I have an extra pair of swimming trunks in the car. I can switch into those after I clean up.”
“OK, you know your way around. Make yourself at home while I get this dirt off of me. If you want to, we can eat by the pool and maybe take a swim.”
Well, I wanted to do anything she suggested so I agreed to a poolside lunch and was delighted to be staying for more than just the yard work.
Showers over, sandwiches eaten, glasses of iced tea refreshed, we sat comfortably at her back yard table. Throughout lunch we had talked of school, both hers and mine, plans for the summer, my career path, the health of my family, and the prospects of a bigger US involvement in Southeast Asia. Throughout it all, I had been very gentlemanly and avoided directly staring at her. This took a superhuman effort on my part because she was wearing a pair of white, very short, shorts and a white tee shirt that maddeningly suggested she might not be wearing a bra. For my part I was just grateful that the table at which we sat did not have a glass top and that my swimming suite was the baggy surfer type that was in style those days.
Then came the second surprise.
“So, how’s your love life, Bob?”
I kind of gasped and then felt myself blush what I was sure was a crimson red. This was territory into which we had never ventured. For all of the three plus years I had been working for Mrs. Webster we had chatted about a lot of things, but never anything this personal. I didn’t know how to answer and just looked at her.
“Did I embarrass you,” she asked. “I know it’s a rather personal question, but after a year in college, especially that party school you’re going to, I would think such a question would be welcomed. You know, give you a chance to brag a little. So, tell me, how’s your love life?”
I quickly reviewed the three years of conversations I had had with Mrs. Webster and realized I knew very little about her, other than she was divorced. I knew nothing about her ex, the reason for her divorce, nothing about her past or present social life, really nothing personal about her at all. Yes, she had made comments about some plays and movies so I assumed she was at least dating, but how often and with whom I had no idea. Really, her personal life was a mystery to me. And now this question from right out of left field. Left field maybe, but asked as a simple, matter of fact question. I decided I would tell her the truth. “Truth, justice, and the American way,” that’s my motto.
I looked her right in the eye and said, “I have no love life.”
“Really? You are a good looking, intelligent young man, I would think the girls would be swarming around you like bees to honey. I for one can say I have certainly enjoyed your company all the times you have been here to do the yard. Actually, as you have grown older, I have grown to look forward to our Saturday mornings.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate your saying that, I really do, but to tell the truth, I have a real tough time with girls. I get really nervous when I am around girls. Being with just one girl is even worse. I say stupid things, or do something really ridiculous. I end up being so embarrassed I have stopped trying.”
“You don’t seem to have trouble with me. You seem relaxed and at ease and I can’t recall your either saying or doing anything stupid or ridiculous.”
“No, but you are not a potential date. And, you are at least twice my age, well maybe not twice, but there is no chance of us going out together, so I don’t feel nervous around you.”
“Thanks for backing off on the twice your age comment. Just for a moment you made me think of myself as a dinosaur. OK, I won’t push. Help me clear the table and I will set you free to enjoy the rest of the day.”
“Mrs. Webster, you are the most beautiful woman I know. I sure don’t think of you as a dinosaur.” And it was said. Why I said it I had no idea, but it was out there now, and I felt another bout of crimson rush onto my face.
With a big grin she said, “Thank you Robert, you just eliminated the dinosaur feeling.” And with that she picked up our plates and took them into the kitchen. I followed with the glasses and napkins.
After putting the plates on the counter she turned and looked at me. “Have you always been so shy? You’ve told me about some of your dates in high school. What is it, the college girls intimidate you?
“It’s not the college girls, it’s all girls. I’ve always been shy. The dates in high school, and both of my dates in college, were only because the girls asked me, and then only the one time. A social butterfly, I am not.”
As I said this, she leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms. The effect was to accent her breasts and even with her arms crossed there was still some tension in the tee shirt material that was stretched between them. Her nipples were clearly outlined beneath the white fabric. I couldn’t help but look and she couldn’t help but notice my looking.
Without thinking I said, “Please don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Cross your arms like that, it makes it difficult for me to maintain eye contact.”
She smiled and let her arms drop to her side. I thought the outline of her nipples was just a little more prominent, but I quickly looked directly into her eyes. Neither of us spoke for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally she said, “You’re right, that was unfair of me. I’m sorry. I know I have a nice body, and I know you have noticed it many times over the years. I want to thank you for being such a gentleman about it. That’s why you have kept this job all this time. Believe me, there were others before you who couldn’t keep their eyes in their heads. It can become very distracting, even insulting at times.”
“It’s been difficult. Especially those times when you wore a bikini while you worked. Those Saturdays were both the worst and the best times I had working for you.”
She laughed and said, “How about this? You said you have no commitments today, so why don’t you come back for dinner, say 8:00 PM. I think of you as a friend, and I would like to help you feel more comfortable around girls, women. We can call it a practice date, or am I being too bold, again?”
I was dumb-struck. I just looked at her. My brain was reeling. I blushed again, big time.
“I’ll take that for a yes. Now, off you go. I have some things I want to get and you should go to the beach. You need to cool off. See you at eight.” With that she pointed to the door, and I left.
Eight o’clock. That was seven hours from now. Time enough to do a lot of surfing and time enough to do a lot of thinking. What could she have in mind? She said she liked me, but that was such a benign comment I didn’t feel I could read anything into it. Hell, I couldn’t read anything into anything. I had mowed this woman’s lawn and raked her leaves for three plus years. She was a nice lady and she was just being nice to me, a shy kid who found it extremely difficult being around girls. She was just trying to give me some practice being with a female type person hoping it would help to lower my anxiety about dating. I decided Mrs. Webster was just being kind. Don’t read anything into it.
So, I spent the afternoon surfing and failing completely in my attempt to not read anything into it.
Around 7:00 PM I showered, very sparingly applied some cologne, and dressed in a pair of tan slacks and a light blue cotton shirt with a button- down collar. Brown penny loafers completed the ensemble.
As I was leaving, my mother and father gave each other a questioning look and my father asked, “Have a date, son?”
“Not really, just going out with some of the guys.”
“Well, have a good time,” said my mom, and I was out the door.
There must have been a party in the neighborhood because Mrs. Webster’s street was full of cars. I had to park over a block away. At exactly 8:00 PM I knocked on her door. What greeted me took my breath away.
Mrs. Webster was wearing a black cocktail dress, cut low in the front. There was a lot of cleavage.
“Hello, right on time,” she said not missing a beat in response to what must have been a look of unbridled lust on my face. “Come on in. I don’t see your car, did you drive over?”
“Yes,” I said, managing to keep my voice calm. “I had to park down the block. I think someone is having a party.”
“Oh, that’s good,” she said.
I didn’t really understand what she meant. Good for the party or good for the parking down the block. Remember, Bob, don’t read anything into anything.
But I became a speed-reader when she turned to go into the living room. The back of her dress was missing. She was bare to the waist. That meant the cleavage was real. No foundation garments, as they say. But there was more, her great legs were encased in black stocking with high heeled pumps, and she was wearing her long blond hair up, revealing her very sexy neck. My cock started to rise. I started to panic.
“Now, don’t get excited,” she said, not knowing how prophetic her statement was, “I just wanted to dress up a little to help compensate for the age difference. I thought looking like this would make this “date” more like a real one, at least as far as you being under pressure, and you would have to focus more on yourself than if it were just me, even me in a bikini.”
“Wow, you look wonderful,” I stammered. “For some reason that dress seems a thousand times more sexy than any bikini ever could. You look great!”
“Why thank you sir, now have a seat while I get some hors d’oeuvres.” And with that, she left the room.
None too soon for me. I quickly took a seat at one end of the sofa and adjusted my rising cock to help conceal it in my slacks. I was thinking I should have worn something less revealing when Mrs. Webster returned with a plate of chips and a variety of dips. She leaned over in front of me, offering both the chips and an excellent view down the front of her dress.
Looking me right in the eye she asked, “Is this unfair of me, too?”
Rising to the occasion, in more ways than one, I said, “Yes, but I really like the view.” I was surprised by my boldness.
Standing up she simply said, “Thank you.” Then she put the plate on the coffee table and sat beside me. “I think you handled that rather well. Or more accurately, you responded rather well. I must be good for your shyness.”
“Mrs. Webster, I have to be honest. I have never been more nervous in my life. I just decided that tonight, when you answered the door, I would be as honest as I possibly could, no matter what. I have the feeling I will learn a lot more on this practice date if I’m completely honest with you.”
“Good for you. Honesty in a relationship is always the best recipe for success, and if being honest kills the relationship before is begins, all the better. That way you will have saved all that time waiting to discover all that’s wrong with being together. Now, I think that after letting you look down my dress, you can call me Paula and not Mrs. Webster. What do you say?”
“OK, Paula it is. Actually, I have been thinking of you as Paula for a long time, so I don’t think I will have much trouble calling you Paula to your face.”
“Oh, you have been thinking of me as Paula, but calling me Mrs. Webster to my face. When, exactly, have you been thinking of me as Paula? And remember, you said you are going to be honest.”
I knew where she was going with this although I couldn’t believe she was pursuing it so strongly. This was not the same lady I had worked for all these years. More accurately, this was a side of the lady I had worked for all these years that had been kept hidden from me. I thought I might get to like this side of her.
“I think of you as Paula…when I masturbate.”
“I know,” she said, and then, “let’s eat.”
During dinner, lasagna with bread sticks and a green salad, we discussed our personal lives. I told her about my uneventful love life, including what I categorized as my two sympathy fucks. She told me about her ex-husband and the reason for her divorce. She said he was verbally abusive and she decided to get out of the marriage before he started getting physically abusive. She also told me that she dated from time to time, but that being a teacher put limits on her social activities and she was uncomfortable trolling, that’s the word she used, for men in bars or clubs. As a result, she had had only two longer-term relationships in the four years since her divorce.
I asked her how her husband had taken the divorce. She was, after all, a very attractive and desirable woman and I thought any guy would be upset at loosing such a great looking wife. This is when she told me she could not have children, something to do with the quality of her eggs, and that he was almost happy to be out of the marriage. He wanted kids but she couldn’t produce. End of story. End of marriage.
By this time dinner was over, we had cleared the dishes, twice in one day, and we were back on the sofa, sitting very close together.
“What now?”
“That depends on you,” she said. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to kiss you.”
“OK, stand up. I think kissing is best done either standing or lying, but not sitting side by side.”
As I was standing I said, “Aren’t you being kind of cold blooded about all this.”
“Sit back down,” she said, “and I will explain how I feel about this evening. You deserve honesty just as much as I do.”
I sat on the couch and she sat on the corner of the coffee table, crossing her legs and revealing a lot of nylon clad leg. I swallowed hard.
“Bob, I am very much aware of the difference in our ages. I am also very much aware of the difference in our lives and in our circumstances. For three years you have come to my home almost every Saturday to mow my lawn and trim my trees. For three years I have watched you mature into a really good looking young man, and for the last year I have thought about you the same way you have thought about me. I think of you when I masturbate.”
She must have seen the shock on my face. A woman masturbating was something I had never thought of, although now, after she said it, it seemed logical enough.
“Yes, women masturbate just like men. Well, not just like men, the equipment is different, but we do enjoy the feelings of pleasure masturbation provides. As for me, I have learned that a pragmatic attitude towards sex is a good thing. Sex is sex, love is love, and sometimes the two intermingle and other times the two are mutually exclusive. Tonight, with you, sex is sex, with me, if you want it.”
I had hoped for this but never believed it would ever happen. Even after the crossed arms and the appetizer view I thought she was only playing with me. Now here she was, the woman of my dreams, telling me she would have sex with me, if I wanted it. Of course I wanted it.
All I could do was nod. Finally, “Yes, I would like very much to make love with you.”
“No, not make love, have sex. There is a difference. With you it’s sex not love. Don’t confuse the terms or the feelings. Although at your age we could maybe compromise a little and say ‘make lust.’ So, let’s make lust. Do you want to lead, or would you like me to set the pace. I have to tell you, if you let me set the pace you may get frustrated after awhile.”
For this angel I would do anything, and if she wanted to set the pace I was willing to go along. “OK, you set the pace.”
“Thank you, we’ll both have a better time. Let’s go into the den. There’s no carpet on the floor and we can dance a little.”
She must have been confident of her plan because it looked like she had the music ready to go. Once in the den she turned on the hi-fi and Glen Miller’s “String of Pearls” came from the speaker.
She turned, smiled, and came up close to me, putting both arms around my neck. I in turn held her by the waist and we met in a full body hug.
“Now, let’s have that kiss,” she whispered.
Our lips met for the first time and I was in heaven. Then heaven got even better as I felt her tongue brushing against my lips. Parting them, she delicately played her tongue over my lips and then inserted it into my mouth. I knew about this, it was called French kissing, and I liked it. Soon we were in a loving battle of tongues. All the while I could feel the heat of her body as she held it against me. Her breasts felt wonderful as they pressed against my chest. My hands instinctively left her waist and dropped to her tight little butt. Yes, I was in heaven.
“That was nice,” she sighed as our lips parted. “I notice you are glad to see me because I know that’s not a pistol in your pocket.”
Embolden, I pushed my now completely erect penis against her. She in turn leaned back and actually ground her pelvis into me. It was great.
“Do you think you can last? I know at your age even a little excitement can produce serious results.”
“So far so good,” I more exhaled than spoke.
“Well, let’s not push it too far. I want you involved for the night and I don’t think you will be able to keep your mind on me as much as I want if you are always on the brink of ejaculation. Follow me.”
With that she pulled away from me and walked toward her bedroom. On the way to the bedroom she grabbed a towel from a hallway closet and then spread it on the floor in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door. I had no idea what she had in mind, but whatever it was I wanted to be part of it. Following her into the bedroom, looking at that lovely back, the stocking covered legs, the heels…I knew I would do anything she wanted.
“Stand on the towel.”
When I was in place, Paula came up behind me, this time pressing her breasts into my back. She reached around me and gently stroked the material covering my penis. I reflexively pulled away, I was so close to ejaculating, another touch would be all it would take.
“Just as I thought, you’re not going to be able to hold it.” With that she started to unfasten my belt. “Don’t talk, just listen and do as I tell you.”
She then unfastened the clasp on my slacks, slowly lowered the zipper, and holding the waistband in her hands knelt behind me and said, “Step out of your pants.”
I saw her toss them on the bed in the reflection in the mirror. There I was, as hard as I had ever been, in only shirt, boxers, shoes and socks.
“Don’t worry, you look fine and the boxers are perfect for the occasion.”
Still standing behind me, she reached into the fly of my shorts and gently removed my engorged penis. The reflection in the mirror was metaphysical, real and dreamlike at the same time.
“Now, I am going to jack you off. That’s right, jack you off, and while I do it I am going to give you a vocabulary lesson. I know you know the words, so really this is just to give you permission to use them with me.
“What I am stroking is your cock. What you feel rubbing against your back are my tits, boobs if you like, breasts if you must. Earlier you were rubbing my ass, and what you want to get into is my pussy.
You must remember it’s my pussy, not my cunt. If you call it, or me, a cunt, ever, this comes to an end and I find another man to do me and my yard. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“And what you are about to do is cum. So cum for me baby, cum for me now!”
It was an order, barked in a throaty, husky voice that was filled with lust. It put me over the top and I shot my load toward the mirror, and hit it too. One then another, then a third rope of cum hit that mirror as I came with more energy than ever before in my life. This was eroticism beyond anything I had ever experienced, heard about, or even fantasized about. I was weak kneed and ready to collapse when it was over.
“Very good. Put your pants back on and then join me in the living room. You can use the blue towel in the bathroom to clean off any excess cum, but don’t touch either the towel or the mirror.”
With that she left me staring at myself and wondering, again, if this was all a dream.
Once back in the living room she grabbed my hand and let me back into the den and the music. We danced slowly but this time our embrace was much more intimate.
“Did you like that? I wasn’t too bold was I?”
“Like it? My god, it was fantastic! That was the best, most intense sexual experience I have ever had. Saying ‘thank you’ seems somehow totally insufficient.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance.”
We danced for awhile without talking, me with my thoughts focused on what might come next, and Paula thinking I don’t know what, but hoping it was about something equally exciting as being jacked off in front of a mirror. All the time enjoying the feel of her body, the smell of her perfume, the closeness.
“I feel you are recovering,” she said with a grin.
“Yes, just thinking about your hand stroking my cock is getting me hard again.”
“Want to try something else, something with more of me than you?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Go into the living room and move the coffee table away from the sofa. Then move the brown chair, the one without arms, and the easy chair to where the coffee table was but leave about three feet between them and the sofa, then sit down and wait. I’ll be right along.”
Table and chairs arranged, I waited but not patiently.
Within a few moments of completing the furniture rearrangement I heard the music from the den. She had raised the volume and changed the record. Glen had been replaced with Elvis.
Paula walked into the living room and sat on the brown chair, very lady like, knees together, legs crossed at the ankles, and hands in her lap. Only the hem of her dress was at mid thigh revealing a lot of leg. A big grin decorated her face. I sensed mischief and I was breathing hard.
“I am pretty sure you will find this interesting. Watch, but don’t talk.”
With Elvis singing “Blue Suede Shoes” in the background, Paula slowly allowed her legs to part, but only enough to give me just a peak of bare skin above the tops of her stockings. Then she crossed her legs, letting her dress ride up a little more, showing stocking tops, and a lot of thigh.
“I know how much men like to look up a woman’s skirt. Even the boys in my class try to get a peak when they think I am not looking. It’s too bad polite society dictates against such shameless displays of feminine exhibition. Don’t you think life would be more fun if women were allowed to sit with their legs spread like men? We have all this sexy lingerie and so few men to show it to. It’s a crime, don’t you think?”
I nodded my agreement, remembering her admonishment not to speak. While she had been talking she had uncrossed and crossed her legs while using her hands to slid the hem of her dress almost to the top of her legs. I couldn’t quite see her panties because her legs were together, but the tanned skin I had seen on so many Saturdays below the hem of a pair of shorts, or a bikini bottom, was now on display in a way so much sexier. My heart was pounding and I knew I had started to sweat.
Again that wonderful smile, “So, you agree with me, women should be allowed to show off their dainties, at least to the men who a girl thinks might appreciate an uncompromised view.”
Then she parted her legs and gave me exactly that uncompromised view of her panty covered pussy. My cock twitched.
“I see you are enjoying the view. Do you want to see more?”
A nod from me.
“Don’t feel like you need to make eye contact. I am enjoying displaying myself to you more than I thought I would. I want you to watch closely, I what you to see everything.”
Another nod from me.
Elvis was now crooning “Heartbreak Hotel” and Paula abruptly put her legs together and stood. She reached behind her, worked some magic with her dress and sliding the straps down her shoulders, let the garment slip to the floor. Stepping out of the dress she again sat on the brown chair. This time instead of the lady like posture she spread her legs and clasped her hands behind her head, completely exposing her panty clad pussy and her naked breasts. Her boobs were magnificent, firm with just the hint of gravity. Her nipples were erect and extended slightly above the pink areola. I was overcome with lust!
“Like ’em?”
“God, yes!”
“You weren’t supposed to talk.”
I tried to look contrite while I nodded.
“That’s better. Now watch carefully and do exactly as I say.”
Standing again, she moved directly in front of me and then turned around showing me her absolutely perfect ass, which was exactly at eye level and less than a foot in front of me.
Then Paula made me fall in love with her forever. She bent forward at the waist and said, “Take off my panties.”
With shaking hands I grasped the elastic top of the panty and slowly pulled them down over that fantastic ass, inch by inch, slowly revealing more and more naked skin. This was great, beyond belief.
A few more inches and her pussy came into view. I almost came in my pants. This was so much more than I had hoped for. This was beyond dreams.
“Pull them all the way off,” she commanded as she stood up straight.
I did, thinking the show was over, but again, Paula surprised me. With her back still toward me she stepped out of the panties and then spread her feet apart and again bent forward at the waist. This, of course, gave me a full view of her pussy. Nothing was left to the imagination. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
“Just look, don’t touch.”
And I looked. From where I sat she was hairless. It took me a second to realize she must shave her pussy. The lips were full and slightly parted. They glistened with a thin layer of moisture, the hint of the pink below. Rapture!
Without warning she stood and stepped forward. Then she turned, smiled, and asked, “See anything you liked?
Watching this fantasy woman of mine standing in front of me wearing only a garter belt, stockings and heels, brazenly exhibiting her shaved pussy for me was almost more than I could take. I knew it if moved I would cum in my pants, and I didn’t want to do that.
I nodded.
“Good. I’m glad you like it. But tell me, how’s your cock? Feeling confined?”
A nod.
“Well, the best way to solve that problem is for you to get naked. Switch places and I’ll watch.”
I stood and she sat. But she sat with her legs far enough apart giving me a great shot of her pussy, which was by now showing signs of being really wet.
“Strip for me, baby, and don’t take too long.”
I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and threw it onto the back of the chair. Next came my shoes and socks and then my slacks.
As I stood in front of her in only my boxers she chanted, “Take it off, take it all off.”
Instead of complying, I stepped in front of her and said, “You take ’em off.”
“Good for you,” she said and without hesitation she pulled my boxers down my legs, exposing my raging hard-on which was only inches from her face.
She looked at it closely and said, “I like your cock. Now sit back down here.
I thought she meant we would be sitting side by side, but as I sat, she rose.
“You’re gonna like this. Sit back and relax, but keep your legs spread so I can see your cock. And whatever you do, don’t touch it, understand?”
Back to nodding.
With a smile on her face and her eyes fixed on my cock she sat this time in the easy chair and spread her legs. Then she cupped her breasts with both hands and twirled her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. Closing her eyes slightly, she moved her left hand to her right breast and slowly lowered her right hand to her stomach, and then to her pussy. She then inserted the middle finger of her right hand into her pussy and gave an audible sigh. This was too much! Paula was masturbating for me. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was one happy camper.
As I watched her stroke her finger in and out of her pussy I must admit that keeping my hands away from my cock was about the most difficult thing I had ever been asked to do, but I knew she was right. If I had touched myself I would have cum for sure. Why, just watching Paula pleasure herself kept me on the verge of orgasm.
It must have kept her on the verge of orgasm, too, for she was making small moaning sounds and quivering every now and then. I thought she was having multiple orgasms and I leaned closer to get the best view of her pussy and the finger that was providing her with so much pleasure.
Just as I was thinking I had seen it all, Paula removed her finger and raised her legs so they were resting on the arms of the chair. Now she was truly exposed to my view. Her pussy lips were filled with blood and parted, exposing her inner lips. I could see her clit protruding from beneath its protective hood. I leaned further forward.
As I did our eyes met and we looked directly at each other. It was a very intense moment for me. I had never before seen so much of a woman so clearly and the eye contact made the moment so much more erotic.
“God, Paula, you’re perfect.”
“Glad you like it.”
“Did you cum? I think you did. It looked like you had a lot of little orgasms.”
“No, I haven’t cum yet, I’m waiting for you.”
“You want me to cum first?”
“No silly, I want you to get me off. Come on over here and kneel down in front of me.”
What I thought couldn’t get better suddenly did. I quickly got up and knelt before her. My cock was sticking out proudly and I mentally measured the distance between it and her pussy. I was ready to fuck.
She read me like a book and said, “No, not that, not yet, anyway.”
“If not that, what?”
She looked me right in the eye and said, “Eat me.”
My breath escaped in a rush.
A look of concern came over Paula’s face, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“You misunderstand, I want nothing more, well almost nothing more, than to eat your beautiful pussy.”
“Good for you, eat me till I cum, make me cum baby, make me cum.”
With that she used the fingers of both hands to spread her pussy lips, giving me a view of her sex that was erotic, crude and wanton, all at the same time.
Focusing on that lovely sight I put my hands on her knees and slowly caressed the fabric of her stockings, working down to her naked inner thighs and then to the flesh just on the outside of her pussy.
“Go ahead, put your finger in me. Put in two fingers. Put them all in if you want.”
I inserted one finger into her now sopping pussy. It felt wonderful. She was warm and tight. I pulled it out and slid in two fingers. She sighed and I bent forward supporting myself by putting my free hand on the seat cushion. As I came close to her pussy I could smell her sex and I was transfixed. She smelled lovely. I moved closer, still with two fingers imbedded in her vagina, and extended my tongue, gently running it across the top of her clit.
The effect was electrifying. She shuddered and groaned, “Oh God, YES!”
From her reaction, I knew I had gotten that part right. I had also discovered she tasted as good as she smelled. This was going to be fun.
By now Paula had released her pussy lips and was gripping my head, encouraging me to greater depths of participation.
“Lick it! Lick it all the way from bottom to top. Aha, yes, that feels so good, do it again.”
And I did, again and again and again. Then I went to work on her clit. For some reason it seemed only natural for me to suck her clit as if it were a nipple, and suck I did. Not too hard, but harder and harder till I could determine what level of stimulation excited her the most. This was the first time I had ever had my mouth on a woman’s pussy and I was determined to get it right. To do that I would have to practice patience while I stayed aware of her every reaction.
I really wanted to pleasure her. Whenever she responded positively to something I did I took note of it and resolved to do it again. Whenever her response was lacking, or even hinted at negative, I resolved not to do that again. As my tongue continued to stimulate her, I felt as if I had a powerful hold over this beautiful, sexy woman. It was a great feeling. For the first time in my life I knew I was worthy of any woman, any time.
“Oh, baby, I’m so close, just my clit now, just my clit.”
And her clit I did. First lightly licking, then lightly sucking, and then sucking harder and harder till she started to cum. And cum she did. Her whole body seemed to stiffen and she griped my head between her legs and squeezed. I mean squeezed! For awhile I thought I would have to use force to break away, but she soon relaxed and I could take a breath. I was really impressed with the strength of her orgasm. I had cum like a dynamo earlier, and now I realized that a woman could have the same powerful response to sexual stimulation. This was good news. I felt like a participant in a wonderful adventure. No spectators allowed here, not tonight.
In spite of the energetic climax she had just experienced, I still had her clit close to my lips. As she relaxed I extended my tongue to lick it one more time and in doing so, I set off an unexpected reaction.
“No, no, no, don’t touch me. Don’t move, everything is much too sensitive right now. I have to rest.”
She was breathing hard and as I pulled away I could see that her entire body was covered with a light layer of moisture, sweat if you like. Evidently, an orgasm was an extremely energetic thing for this lady of my dreams.
I sat back on my heels and looked at her. She made no move to cover herself and her pussy fascinated me. It was very wet and the lips stayed open farther than they had before. The inside lips were also parted and I could see a little way into her vagina.
“How do I look? Wet I suppose. Even wetter than your lips and chin, I bet. God, Bob, that was intense, better than I ever thought you might be, without any training, that is. What got into you?”
“You are going to have to sit up and close your legs if you want intelligent conversation,” I said. “You can’t imagine how difficult it is for me to think with your lovely pussy staring me in the face.
“OK, this is getting a bit uncomfortable anyway.”
And with that she stood up and held out her hand indicating I should rise, too. When we were standing close together, Paula reached out and hugged me, and then gave me a most tender kiss.
“Thank you, baby, that was the best, most intense climax I have had in a very long time.”
All I could think of to say was, “You’re welcome. I didn’t know I had it in me.”
Without warning she pulled away from me saying, “Oh, my, you are still hard. I can’t believe you could keep a hard-on during all that. Poor baby, that must be very uncomfortable. Sit down.”
As I sat I said, “It is a bit uncomfortable, but how could I not keep a hard-on during the most erotic experience I have ever had?”
“I thought you would think being jacked-off in front of a mirror, by a fully clothed lady, would have been the most erotic experience of your short but happy life?”
“That was the best till I got a taste of your pussy. Paula, eating you was great. I have never felt better about anything I have ever done with, or to, a woman. Somehow it gave me a feeling of power. It was very seductive. Eating pussy is something I am going to want to do whenever I can, and eating your pussy would be the best thing of all.”
As I was speaking she was kneeling in front of me. Once on her knees, she gently spread my legs and took my cock in her right hand.
“Let’s see if you still think eating pussy is so good after I finish sucking your cock. And let me make two things perfectly clear, I know you are not going to be able to last very long, and it’s OK if you cum in my mouth, just give me a little warning so I can get ready, Ok?”
I was unable to verbalize a response to this statement, so I nodded, again.
“Good, now scoot down a little and let Paula suck you dry.”
I scooted and she sucked and I was never better. I’ll tell you, the first time a girl sucks your cock, it’s a milestone in your life. When that girl is an experienced, willing, wanton, woman, it’s a monumental milestone. To my delight, Paula was all of the above.
She first took me completely into her mouth, devouring my cock almost completely. I was overwhelmed by the sensation of this woman’s mouth on my cock. It felt like nothing I had ever experienced. If you remember the first time a woman lowered her mouth over your cock you know what I am talking about. If you have yet to experience this, I can’t adequately describe the sensation. Simple words like marvelous, or fantastic, just don’t pack the punch necessary to convey the feeling.
After the first dive, Paula held my cock by its base and licked it like a Popsicle. She did this over and over while keeping eye contact with me. I was beyond pleasure. Maybe she was right, this could easily be better than eating pussy.
Once again she slipped her mouth over my cock but this time she let go with her hand and used only her mouth to stimulate me. Placing both hands on the sofa to support her body she raised and lowered her whole torso as she pleasured my cock with her mouth.
I went to the verge of orgasm in no time flat and tried to hold off as long as I could. Within a few minutes I knew my climax was imminent.
“Paula, I can’t hold off any longer, I’m gonna cum.”
Without breaking her pace she nodded acknowledgement and looked into my eyes, then she winked at me. That was it, I exploded into her mouth. It felt like I was blowing as much cum into her mouth as I had blown on the mirror. I could feel two, then three contractions of my cock before I could relax even a little. We maintained eye contact through out the whole thing and I could see her work to swallow my cum as it pumped into her mouth from my cock. It was mind blowing.
This may have been my first blow job, but I knew I had been blown by a woman who knew her business. I thought of Ben Franklin and I, too, was grateful for older women.
As my cock softened, Paula let it slip from her mouth, took a deep breath and let it out. Then she said the most erotic thing I have ever heard.
“Baby, you can cum in my mouth anytime you want.”
I reached down and helped her to sit on the sofa, beside me.
“Seated kisses are perfect for occasions like this,” I whispered to her, and turning her head toward me, I kissed her hard on the mouth.
I could taste my cum on her lips, and smell it on her breath. I kissed her again, this time extending my tongue to lick her lips. She responded by opening her mouth and we once again made sweet love with our lips and our tongues. Life was good.
Finally, Paula pulled away a little and said, “Let’s get cleaned up a bit.”
We walked hand and hand into the bathroom where she first cleaned my cock and mouth, and then I cleaned her pussy and wiped her face with a cool cloth.
Back in the living room she seemed revitalized.
“That was great! I love your cock, I love the taste of your cum. The only thing is, we have to figure out a way to make you last longer. Give me more time to pleasure you, give you more time to enjoy having your cock in my mouth. So, which is better, eating pussy or having your cock sucked?”
“It’s a tie,” I replied.
“Very diplomatic,” she said. “Have you ever thought of a career with the State Department?”
“It’s not diplomatic, it’s the truth. Both are great but for different reasons. Like I said earlier, eating pussy is pleasurable, but even more than that I love the feeling of power it gives me. I loved having that kind of control over you. Being able to bring you to orgasm was a real trip. I loved it, and I loved the way you gave yourself to me, the trust, the openness, the intimacy.
“This is not to say your sucking my cock was not appreciated, it was. If fact, while you were sucking me, well, I never felt anything better. It was great, you were great. Can we do it again? Sometime soon, I hope.”
“Of course we can do it again. How else can I train you to last longer? Now, you know what’s next, don’t you?”
“We switch from Elvis back to Glen?”
“OK, and then we fuck. You want it out here or in the bedroom?”
“In the bedroom, I think. I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
“Then the bedroom it is, but don’t worry about comfort. This is what I call ‘sport fucking’ and with sport fucking, comfort takes a back seat to pleasure.”
When Glen was again playing his big band hits, and we were both in the bedroom, Paula did a twirl with her hands raised above her head. She was still dressed only in garter belt, stockings, and high heels.
“Do you want me to keep these things on, or take them off. But before you answer, I must tell you, I feel sexy with them on.”
“You look great, don’t change a thing.”
She quickly drew back the covers on the bed and tossed them to the side.
“OK, it’s slut time. Let’s fuck!”
As she said it, she jumped on the bed but stayed on her hands and knees, with her knees wide apart. The view of her pussy was terrific. She dropped her shoulders to the bed and reached back with her hands, spreading her pussy lips for me once again.
“This would be a great place for a hard cock, don’t you think?”
It was only about 15 minutes since I had cum in her mouth, but I was up and ready in seconds after this brazen display. I climbed up behind her, but instead of going for the gusto, I bent over to lick her pussy.
“Oh, you want more oral do you?”
“More oral would be nice.”
“OK, but just for a few minutes, I really want to feel you inside me.”
She told me to lie on my back and then she spun around and positioned herself over me in the “69” position.
“Eat your fill, sweetie,” she said as she lowered her juicy pussy to me waiting mouth.
At the same time she took my cock into her mouth and swallowed the whole thing, right down to my balls. This was better than on the sofa. As she stroked my cock with her mouth, I reacquainted myself with her pussy by sliding my tongue as far into her open vagina as I could. In between thrusts with my tongue I licked her lips from top to bottom then used my fingers to explore further inside as I sucked on her clit. I was intent on giving her a second orgasm, if I could.
After about five minutes of this, she stopped sucking my cock and put her head on my thigh.
Softly she said, “That, just that. Keep it up, it feels so good. My god, baby, you eat my pussy so good, I can’t believe it. You make me feel soooo verrrry good.”
Then she came with the same initial shudder followed by the rigid muscle contractions as the first time. But this time she didn’t squeeze my head between her thighs. Instead she pushed down on my face, forcing my nose and mouth into her sopping wet hole. This time I was thinking ahead expecting some sort of intense reaction so while she was in the early throws of her orgasm I had the good sense to reposition my hands, leaving them free to pry her legs away from me, if necessary. I also took a deep breath just before she clamped down on me. Thankfully, she started to relax before I ran out of air and needed to push her away.
She lay limply on top of me saying, “Good, good, very good, very fucking good.”
I thought if only her sixth graders could hear her now. What a time to have such a thought.
After a few minutes she raised her head, licked my cock and climbed around so as to position her pussy above my cock.
“Now,” was all she said as she slowly lowered herself onto my swollen member.
When my cock was fully incased within her, she lowered her upper body to mine and kissed be deeply.
“Bobby, can I call you Bobby? If I had had any idea you could be this good at sex, I would have invited you over for dinner a long time ago.”
“You are too kind, m’ lady. And as far as calling me Bobby, well, you can call me anything you like when my cock is buried in your pussy.”
She laughed and said, “Let’s go slow now. I don’t want to sport fuck any more, I want to make love to you, and I want you to make love to me. After what you have done for me, I want you for more than just sex, I want you for intimacy as well.”
“I can go along with that,” I said and then kissed her full on the mouth.
“You want to be on top?”
“No, I want to fuck you doggie style.”
So we changed positions and I entered her from behind. It was a different view and a different feeling. If I pushed hard I could feel resistance at the end of my thrust.
“Easy there, don’t hurt me.”
“What do you mean, am I hurting you?”
“When you push really hard, the head of your cock hits my cervix, and it hurts.”
“Oh, OK. I’ll be more careful. Actually, the reason I was pushing so hard is that I thought I might not be big enough to satisfy you.”
“Oh lord, that size thing. Listen and learn, but don’t stop pumping me while you learn. Women do not have bottomless pits for vaginas. Big, long cocks are not comfortable and any woman who tells you differently is either trying to make you feel bad, or she’s a freak. Guys average six inches because evolution has selected for six in cocks. Women like six inch cocks, they fit nicely, don’t cause pain, and cum just as much as any other size cock. Anyway, all of the sexual oriented nerves in the vagina are in the first two to three inches. Going deeper doesn’t add to a woman’s pleasure. Now, just fuck me will you?”
“Yes ma’am.”
And fuck we did. Doggie style, me on top, her on top, doggie style lying on our sides, me standing holding her in my arms. And with each position change we would return to the mutual oral stimulation, each time spending longer and longer pleasuring each other with our tongues and lips.
After what seemed like a long time Paula looked at me and asked, “Are you ready to cum?”
“God yes! I’ve been holding back for as long as I can.”
“OK, fuck my tits and when you cum shoot it on them and on my face.”
I straddled her chest and she squeezed my cock between her breasts. Another layer of heaven revealed itself to me. I stroked between her globes for another minute or so and then felt the pressure rising.
“I’m ready,” I breathed as I took my cock in my hand and stroked it a few more times to bring myself off.
All this time Paula was shifting her gaze between my face and my cock. When I told her I was ready to cum she lifted her head and gave me a look of crazed sexuality. She really wanted me to cum on her.
“My face, cum on my face first, then my tits.”
She opened her mouth and I came. The first shot hit her on the forehead and trailed down her nose and into her mouth. She kept her mouth open waiting for the next shot. The second was almost a direct hit, right into her open mouth. I could see my cum pooling on her tongue as she finally swallowed my load. She opened her mouth again but I knew there was not enough left for another shot to her face so I pointed my cock toward her boobs. She understood immediately and used her hands to hold her tits up to receive what was left of my cum. What came out fell between her boobs and she rubbed them together, spreading my precious bodily fluids between them. All and all, I thought it was a very sexy way to cum.
Leaning back onto her stomach I let my cock rest on her chest. She stroked it gently for a moment and then I lay on the bed beside her.
“This is the best day of my entire life,” I said. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You could come by next Saturday and do my lawn.”
“And will I be able to do you, too?”
“Think of me as a fringe benefit.”
“Benefit yes, fringe no.”
“You’re sweet.”
We rolled toward each other and embraced, then she put her head on my shoulder and said, “This was a good beginning. Next time we can explore some new territory.”
“What other territory could there be?”
Dreamily she said, “Remember when we talked about my ass?”