Mrs Howard spanks both Ellie and Marsha as she takes on discipline for the household
Showing posts with label breasts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label breasts. Show all posts
Mrs Howard Spanks Mother and Daughter
Mrs Collins brought Ellie home from camp knowing she had promised Mrs Howard she would give her 16 year old daughter a really hard spanking. “Put all your clothes in the linen basket Ellie, and then come straight to my bedroom” she instructed her daughter.
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Ellie knew her Mother had threatened to spank her and fully expected to have her knickers taken down and make the trip across the maternal lap, but it was her Mother of course, not Mrs Howard. A few spanks and it would be over. She knew Mrs Howard would be over later on and hoped she would give her a proper spanking, and afters.
Ellie did as she was told and walked into her Mothers bedroom.
“Knickers down and over my knee Ellie.”
Ellie huffed a bit but went across her Mother’s lap.
“I hope this teaches you a lesson” and she gave her daughter a spank.
Ellie cried out “it hurts Mum.”
“It’s supposed to” her Mother replied and gave her six more spanks.
“Why are you so naughty Ellie?” she asked.
“Dunno Mum, I just can’t help it. I’m sorry.”
“Are you really Ellie?” she asked.
“Sure Mum, promise.”
“I do so hate having to spank you. I know Mrs Howard doesn’t mind so maybe we’ll leave the rest of your spanking to her, eh? At least I did some.”
“Good thinking” Ellie replied.
Her Mum sighed with relief. “OK then, go on, pull your knickers back up. Mrs Howard will be here soon.”
Ellie walked back to her room, not believing what had just happened. She quite fancied being spanked, but her Mum never did keep her promises when it came to discipline. Mrs Howard did of course.
That afternoon Mrs Howard came to clean. The three women stood in the kitchen when she arrived.
Mrs Howard asked Mrs Collins “so, did you spank Ellie this morning as you said you would?”
“Oh, well, actually, I gave her quite a few spanks and then she really was apologetic.”
“How many spanks?” Mrs Howard asked.
“Oh about six or eight. Hard ones of course” she added trailing off.
“You are kidding me aren’t you?” Mrs Howard said. Ellie smiled.
“Erm well, no. I did say that you would spank her as well though.”
“I see” Mrs Howard said, looking cross.
She looked at Ellie dressed in her sleeveless pink top white shorts and thought how cute she was, as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but she knew better. The little minx has a sharp tongue and a bottom that needs constant reminders about how to behave, and a tongue that did wonders when let loose between Mrs Howard’s legs.
For now though she was her strict self and asked “let me get this straight Ellie, you were rude to your Mother on the phone when still at camp, she said she would spank you today, but she only gave you a few spanks?”
“I guess Mrs Howard,” Ellie said.
“But she said I would spank you as well?”
“Uh huh” Ellie responded.
“Right. Then I suppose it is up to me to discipline Ellie again. Ellie, go upstairs to your room. Get undressed, I mean everything, and stand facing the wall with your hands above your head and think about how naughty you were and what you deserve. I will be up shortly.”
When Ellie left the kitchen Mrs Howard turned to Mrs Collins. “So Marsha, you have failed again to take proper responsibility for your daughter’s discipline.”
“Sorry Mrs Howard” she said. She held her breath when she heard Mrs Howard call her Marsha. That meant she was in trouble, probably ending up across her knee herself.
“Right Marsha, I will go upstairs and deal with your daughter. You will do the cleaning downstairs as I can’t do both today.”
“Oh, but”
“No buts. I will spend an hour or so dealing with Ellie and then you and I will have a little heart to heart. Understood?
A downcast Marsha nodded and said quietly “yes Mrs Howard.”
“And Marsha, if you come upstairs to listen I will be really cross. Do you understand that as well?”
“Oh yes Mrs Howard, I won’t interfere at all.”
“Good.”
Mrs Howard watched as Marsha started to clean the oven before going upstairs. She walked in to Ellie’s room without knocking and found the 16 year old undressed, facing the wall and with her hands on her head.
“Good girl Ellie. Now come here” Mrs Howard demanded.
Ellie walked over to Mrs Howard and stood in front of her, not scared even though she knew she would be spanked very hard. She stood quite still and waited for instructions.
“You understand this will be a discipline spanking as well young lady.”
“Will there be anything else Mrs Howard?” Ellie so hoped she would use her strap on.
“Yes of course girl, don’t be dim on purpose” she snapped, then added “I do so enjoy the afters Ellie when you give me a present for disciplining you.”
Ellie was delighted. She had spent a whole week at camp and so needed her pain fix. She watched as Mrs Howard opened her bag and took out her strap.
Then Mrs Howard said “you know Ellie, I think this time I’ll get undressed as well. Just for a change.”
Ellie watched as Mrs Howard removed her short sleeved black blouse and unclipped her bra, and as the bra slipped down her arms Ellie smiled at the sight of Mrs Howard’s womanly breasts. Then Mrs Howard unbuttoned her off white linen trousers and pulled them down over her thighs, stepping out of them, followed by her skimpy knickers.
When Mrs Howard stood back up and looked at Ellie she snapped “take that smile off your face young lady. You won’t find my lap any more comfortable just because my legs will be bare.”
“And everything else” Ellie said.
“Enough Ellie, over you go” Mrs Howard demanded as she sat on the chair.
Ellie bent down across her lap and felt immediately how different this was. Her own skin touching Mrs Howard’s cool thighs. She squirmed around just to feel more of her skin.
Mrs Howard looked down at Ellie’s smooth back, her legs, and of course her pert little bottom which without doubt was her favourite bottom to spank. Ellie took the hardest spanking of everyone and whilst she cried like the best of them she also recovered the quickest and enjoyed the soreness as she gave Mrs Howard her present. This time she loved the feel of the 16 year olds bare flesh against her own bare thighs, as she knew she would, and felt the wetness begin between her legs.
Mrs Howard placed her hand on Ellie’s bottom and as she rubed so she slid her hand between Ellie’s legs and brushed her shaved hair mound, quickly telling that Ellie was moist as well, like herself, in anticipation of what will follow.
Ellie just knew she had surrendered control and Mrs Howard could decide whatever punishment was needed. The loss of control added to her satisfaction. Not knowing how long, how hard, just that she would be in tears and her bottom would be sore. She left it all to Mrs Howard.
The spanking started and Ellie was soon squirming as her bottom was warmed up by the indomitable Mrs Howard who was once again relishing inflicting pain on her young charge. The small bottom soon turned pink and then red, the 16 years old eyes soon filled with tears that ran down her cheeks, and the youngster forgot she was lying across bare thighs as the pain took over.
Mrs Howard enjoyed the sight of the naked Ellie. She spanked her bottom with one hand whilst stroking her back with the other, moving her hand around to her front and covering the 16 year olds breast, caressing it, squeezing her nipple for her own enjoyment as she continued to thrash the teenager, inflicting the pain, disciplining her.
Ellie became unaware through the pain that her breast was being caressed and stretched her arms out straight so she didn’t hinder Mrs Howard’s hand, but the pain was greater than the tender feel of her hand. She did squeeze her left arm behind Mrs Howard’s back and put her open palm of her waist. The bare skin felt good.
The hand spanking soon changed to the strap and much of the caressing stopped. The strap was harder to handle and caused Ellie rather more pain, especially those spanks across the tops of her legs. Both ladies focussed on the spanking now, the giving it and the receiving of it. Tears flowed, cries were yelled out, the lesson was being taught.
Mrs Howard put the strap down when she decided Ellie had indeed had enough. The crying continued. The reddened bottom stared up from her lap, her hands wandered around Ellie’s bottom, her legs, her inner thighs, and between her legs. Once Ellie started to think more about the hand between her legs than the spanking Mrs Howard eased her up so she was sitting on her lap.
“Kiss my breast Ellie” she said quietly and breathed heavily when the teenager’s lips encircled her nipple and kissed and licked and sucked as Mrs Howard stroked the teenager’s breast.
“On the bed Ellie” Mrs Howard commanded, tenderly now, as an equal rather than the disciplinarian.
They smiled at each other as they slid on to the bed and hugged, kissing, their tongues finding each other as their lips clasped each other.
Ellie stroked the older woman’s stomach, and her thighs until Mrs Howard whispered “go on Ellie, your fingers, put them inside me, use them, find my clit, work me.”
Ellie kept kissing as she fondled Mrs Howard’s vaginal lips and when they were moistened she slid two fingers inside and as Mrs Howard gasped with joy so she worked her fingers deeper, and longer, and soon enough Mrs Howard gasped with elation, shuddered in climax, and groaned with satisfaction.
Slowly she recovered, smiled at Ellie, kissed the teenager’s breast, and moved her own fingers down to Ellie’s pussy. It was her turn to bring her companion to orgasm and she did, expertly, smoothly, lovingly. Ellie was gasping for breath. Yes she had masturbated many times before but having someone else do it was so different, so exciting.
It was over too soon. Ellie lay on the bed and was only vaguely conscious of Mrs Howard standing up and getting dressed. She opened her eyes to see Mrs Howard, a dressed Mrs Howard, standing over her, hairbrush in hand, waiting. Ellie realised. Her discipline spanking. It was going to happen.
Ellie stood up and waited for Mrs Howard to tell her what to do. No hard feelings of course. She earned a discipline spanking and was going to get one.
“You have earned this Ellie. You were rude to your Mother again.”
“Sorry Mrs Howard, but I can’t help it, it’s just that it’s so easy.”
“I know Ellie. Your Mother is weak, remarkably so really, but I have a job to do and I will do it now. Get over again, and this time it will be rather harder than before.
When Ellie was in place Mrs Howard asked “how many of these did I give you last time Ellie?”
“120 Mrs Howard” Ellie said with a slight quiver in her voice which Mrs Howard heard and gave her cause to smile. The little brat wasn’t so smart now was she?
“Right then, so if I add a few for good measure let’s call it 125 shall we?”
Ellie had received a hairbrush thrashing several times before and the pain was horrendous. She gasped, which again made Mrs Howard smile as she looked at the naked teenager again lying prone across her lap, her bare bottom beautifully placed to allow maximum leverage. She was so going to enjoy making this 16 year old cry again.
“You do know it will do you good don’t you Ellie?”
“Will it Mrs Howard?”
“You take your spankings very well Ellie. It’s nice to have someone so receptive Ellie. You just grit your teeth and take whatever I give you. You can cry but that’s ok. The main thing is you see it as a lesson as much as anything else.”
Ellie wasn’t sure what to say so Mrs Howard just said “Ready?”
Ellie put both her arms behind her knowing Mrs Howard would bend both in to half nelsons and grip them hard so she couldn’t protect her bottom even if she wanted to.
Before Ellie could say anything the brush was raised high and brought down hard on the tender creamy bottom lying across the older woman’s lap and soon the room was filled again with the sound of Ellie’s gasps of pain. It was so much worse than the strap, being spanked with the hard unforgiving wooden paddle.
Soon Mrs Howard was keeping up the rhythm, Ellie was crying out in pain knowing her bottom was being smothered in bruises and was being turned bright red. She had lost count of the number of spanks but didn’t care. She just needed to get through all the spanks without begging to be let up. She never wanted to beg.
The spanking stopped without warning and Ellie was crying harder than she could ever rber. 125 spanks with the hairbrush. Just what will her bottom look like when she eventually gets in to the bathroom?
Slowly she recovered and Mrs Howard let her get up. She stood in front of Mrs Howard with her hands on her head waiting for her instructions, tears still streaming down her face, her bottom stinging, throbing even.
“You really are such a good girl Ellie” she said, as she slid her fingers between the 16 year olds legs and smiled as she felt her vaginal lips were much moister than before.
“Now listen young lady. I have to talk to your Mother about how come she didn’t spank you properly.”
“I don’t care about that Mrs Howard. It’s just a shame you can’t be my Mum and always be the one to spank me.”
Mrs Howard gave the 16 year old a hard stare, then softened and smiled and said “you may not enjoy that as much as you think. I don’t have any patience with naughtiness. You might just get spanked more than you expect. Now listen Ellie. I need you to stay upstairs whilst I go and discuss things with your Mum. You can listen but don’t come down. Understand?”
“Sure. What are you going to do? Why can’t I watch?
“Because it’s your Mum. Don’t make me say it again or you will go back over for another 125 with this” she snapped shaking the brush close to Ellie’s face.
Ellie recoiled.
“Now why aren’t you so well behaved with your Mum young lady?” Mrs Howard asked.
“Because I know you mean it Mrs Howard” she answered with some serious respect. “I really would like you to be my Mum and spank me all the time. I know you said I might not like it but I bet I would be better behaved” Ellie said with a sly smile.
“Too right” Mrs Howard agreed. “Now young lady don’t mess around any more. Go to the bathroom and then come straight back here, or else.”
Ellie nodded and left the room, still naked, and went to the bathroom whilst Mrs Howard went back downstairs. She found Mrs Collins in the lounge who looked up when Mrs Howard entered.
“Keep going Marsha, I didn’t tell you to stop did I?” She snapped.
Mrs Howard pulled out a chair and sat down and looked at Mrs Collins, wondering how a woman of 37 could be so weak when it came to discipline. Not like herself who was sexually aroused by giving a spanking someone particularly to someone she had feelings for. She knew though that not everyone enjoyed giving a spanking. Many people much preferred to be spanked, like Ellie. Even so this woman was weak.
“OK Marsha, come over here please” Mrs Howard ordered after watching her clean for several minutes. She wasn’t even good at cleaning she thought.
“So Marsha, tell me why you didn’t spank Ellie properly, after you and I discussed it and you said you would.”
“Well, I suppose I just didn’t like to, not with her having been away for a week and all and she did apologise.”
“You mean after half a dozen spanks knowing if she didn’t she would be likely to get lots more.”
Marsha knew the sense in that reasoning. “I suppose” she said quietly.
“I see. What happened to being a responsible parent? You can’t be a responsible parent and let your children get away with insolent behaviour you know.”
“Well, I don’t really think …”
“No you don’t do you” Mrs Howard snapped, then continued “Well I do, and I think that you need to be taught another lesson and one in fact I have just given your daughter.”
“Oh dear, I heard. There was a lot of screaming up there.”
“Yes Marsha, there was, but only from the Ellie who deserved every last spank. I wasn’t screaming was I?”
“Well I guess not.”
“Right then, take your skirt and knickers off, I am so cross with you so I’m going to spank you again and you know you really deserve this one, a lot.”
“Oh please don’t” she pleaded whilst at the same time taking her skirt off and pulling down her knickers. It hadn’t struck Mrs Howard before just how quickly Marsha got ready to be spanked, but yet again she had her bare bottom ready quick as a flash. That made her think.
“Stand in front of me Marsha, with your hands on your head please” she said quietly but with a firmness Marsha had no intention of disobeying. She stood quietly, respectfully, and waited. She breathed deeply as Mrs Howard started to stroke the inside of her thigh, edging her legs apart to invite her to stroke higher. She was enjoying this bit, even when she felt Mrs Howards hand brush her hair mound, even slide along her vaginal lips.
“I thought so. Looking forward to being spanked are you Marsha?” Mrs Howard suddenly asked.
“Pardon me …” Marsha started, stopping when she realised she had said too much.
“I knew once I felt just how moist you are. You’ve masturbated haven’t you, at the sound of me spanking Ellie. Answer me” she snapped as she drew her hand back and landed a forceful spank on the outside of Marsha’s leg.
Marsha let out a gasp and when she saw the hand drawn back again she cried out “yes, yes, I did masturbate. I’m so sorry.”
Mrs Howard let Marsha calm down before asking “why are you sorry?”
“Well, because it is wrong, to masturbate I mean, especially over my daughter.”
“Over your daughter or over me spanking your daughter?”
“Well, … oh, I see what you mean” Marsha said thoughtfully.
“There’s no shame in wanting to be spanked. Ellie likes to be.”
Marsha suddenly realised what Mrs Howard had said. “Does she like to be spanked?”
“Oh yes, but properly, not the way you do it, or not do it as the case might be” she added sarcastically.
“I didn’t realise. What about you?”
“I enjoy spanking people. Like Ellie, and others.”
“So you enjoy spanking me?”
“Well, not so fast. There is a difference. You can’t take a very hard spanking. Not like I enjoy giving. Ellie can.”
“You can teach me can’t you?” Marsha was entering territory she hadn’t properly thought through. She knew she had a hankering to be spanked though.
“I can. But that will take time.”
“Please Mrs Howard. Please teach me.”
Mrs Howard realised Marsha was seeing the green grass but didn’t know what she was letting herself in for. Maybe she could have some fun at her expense, and give Ellie the pseudo Mother she was looking for.
“Maybe I will, but I don’t just spank once or twice. If you want me to teach you then you have to accept my decision on your discipline all the time, not when you choose but when I say. Agreed?”
“Oh yes Mrs Howard.” Marsha was reaching the point of no return.
“What about Ellie? If you can’t bear spanking her then you need to accept that and make other arrangements. She still needs to be disciplined.”
Marsha thought for a moment and then suddenly had the best of ideas. “Yes you are right. I tell you what you can do it. All the time.”
“What, spank Ellie whenever she needs to be? Now that could work I suppose” Mrs Howard said trying to look thoughtful. She continued “Yes, that can really, but I would need to be in control, and make all discipline decisions.”
“That works for me. You can spank Ellie whenever she is naughty.”
“No Marsha. I mean I have to make the discipline decisions for both of you. I decide when you each get spanked, for how long, how hard, and with what implements.”
Marsha stopped a moment but decided she had to agree. Mrs Howard was making perfect sense and anyway if she wanted to be spanked she had no choice really did she? It wouldn’t work otherwise would it? “Yes of course” she said.
“Good” Mrs Howard said “in that case I will discipline you and Ellie from now on. Expect me to be strict.”
“Oh yes Mrs Howard, you must be very strict.”
Mrs Howard knew Marsha was getting carried away. Would she still think the same after her next spanking she wondered? Probably not, but she was going to make sure this weak woman couldn’t wriggle her way out of it. Mrs Howard despised weakness. Ellie had strength. Marsha was going to be just her whipping horse, at least until she found out if the 37 year old can withstand one of her hard spankings. She looked at the woman standing with her hands on her head, her knickers around her knees, discussing how she wanted to be thrashed like a little girl, not realising her daughter got afters and all she was going to get was a sore bottom.
“Don’t worry about that. You just worry about how much your bottom is going to hurt afterwards. I will start with what I gave Ellie. Get across my lap.”
“Oh right” Marsha enthused as she willingly bent across Mrs Howard’s lap. It felt good she thought as the carpet came up to meet her face and if Ellie could take it then there was no reason why she shouldn’t be able to.
Mrs Howard smiled at the back of Marsha’s head knowing Marsha wasn’t going to enjoy this one little bit. “125 spanks with this hairbrush Marsha, just like I gave Ellie upstairs. Bend your arms behind your back. Quickly.”
Mrs Howard didn’t mention the hand spanking she gave Ellie nor the strap. It was going to be a cold hairbrush spanking, and a painful one at that.
Marsha obeyed, and once Mrs Howard had her arms gripped firmly in half nelsons.
To rub in the barrassment Mrs Howard asked “Marsha tell me how old you are”
“I am 28 Marsha so you are being spanked by someone much younger than you. How about that?”
“That’s OK. I respect you.” Marsha said but her voice betrayed her lack of confidence.
“And you will respect all my decisions won’t you Marsha.”
“All your decisions Mrs Howard. Really I will, so you teach me well.”
Mrs Howard said “You know if I am going to spank you regularly I reckon Ellie should watch.” She knew once Marsha was spanked in front of her own daughter she would find it even harder to wrest back control.
“Surely not” Marsha pleaded. “I’m her Mother.”
“I thought you were going to be obedient Marsha?” Mrs Howard said brusquely.
“Sorry Mrs Howard. Of course. Whatever you say.”
Marsha was being really compliant now but was also feeling uncomfortable, lying across her cleaners lap, her arms pinned behind her back, her bare bottom about to be spanked, and still the discussion taking place, How much longer before she started she wondered?”
“Or do you simply mean, yes it’s my decision?” Mrs Howard demanded sharply.
“Yes, yes. It’s your decision Mrs Howard” Marsha conceded.
Mrs Howard shouted out “Ellie, down here, quickly.”
Ellie sprinted downstairs and stopped short as soon as she saw her Mother draped across Mrs Howard’s lap. Ellie took the view in. Her Mother hands held firmly in half nelson’s, her toes about three inches off the floor, her bare bottom neatly perched on Mrs Howard’s right thigh ready to be spanked, her knickers down around her knees.
Marsha looked up as Ellie walked in. Ellie noticed her Mother was blushing, the deepest reddest blush she had ever seen on her Mother’s face. Even then she knew that no matter how red her Mother’s face was with that blush, her bottom was going to be an even deeper red when Mrs Howard had finished thrashing her.
Ellie was the first to speak. “So you do spank Mum” she said in awe.
“Yes” Mrs Howard said “just like this” Mrs Howard added as she raised the hairbrush and brought it down smartly on Marsha’s left bottom cheek. Marsha screamed out. Ellie put her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.
Mrs Howard pursed her lips, rested the hairbrush on Marsha’s bottom looked up at Ellie and said “I have agreed with your Mother that I will take responsibility for your discipline in future. Well actually for both you and her.”
Ellie’s mouth dropped open.
Mrs Howard continued “You will both have to behave in future or else suffer the consequences. If you are naughty you will get a spanking with this hairbrush and spend time in your bedroom facing the wall. Understood Marsha?”
“Yes Mrs Howard” came a quivering reply.
Mrs Howard looked at Ellie and smiled when she saw Ellie’s wide grin. “Do you understand as well Ellie? You will get exactly the same discipline spanking I gave you upstairs.” Mrs Howard asked sternly but still smiling. Marsha was looking at the floor and so did not see the smile, but just heard the stern tone.
“Oh yes Mrs Howard. Definitely” Ellie answered trying to use her most deferential voice, but knowing she could now look forward to many more spankings across Mrs Howard’s lap. It didn’t matter that many would be discipline spankings, as she reckoned there would be plenty of the other type, with afters and all.
“Good” Mrs Howard said, smiling, almost laughing, as she raised the hairbrush again, studied Marsha’s bottom, and thrashed it down relentlessly time and time again until the 37 year old was blubering like a child and her bottom was a very nice shade of bright red.
Mrs Howard said sharply “There have only been a couple of dozen spanks so far Marsha and there are dozens more to come, but here you are, crying already. I guess you will need much more training before you know how to take your punishment as well as your daughter does but don’t worry because I will be your cleaner for years to come so there is plenty of time.”
What do you say Marsha?”
Marsha gave a very wet reply as she said with a whimper “Yes Mrs Howard.”
Ellie had gone to stand by the wall away from the view of her Mother and when Mrs Howard looked across she saw the 16 year old had her hand down the front of her knickers and was getting off on the very sight of watching her Mother being spanked. She then made a motion at Mrs Howard with her hand, her thumb and finger in a circle massaging an imaginary penis. Mrs Howard knew that meant Ellie wanted her strap on, she smiled and nodded. Yes she would give the little minx the pleasure she desired straight after dealing with the same little minx’s Mother.
Mrs Howard looked down at Marsha’s bottom. It was now a burning red and she loved the way her bottom cheeks bounced when she thrashed the hairbrush down. Marsha was taking her punishment far better than she had expected, blubering for sure, but taking every spank. She felt her breast and realised her nipple was taut so was enjoying the experience, sexually if not the pain, and Mrs Howard thought she might just have got herself a new toy. A 37 year old woman who takes a hard spanking, and who knows what she will enjoy afterwards. Will it be a strap on, or a butt plug, maybe a vibrator. It will be fun finding out she thought. It always was.
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Lindsey Leicester knew exactly why this meeting had been arranged, while her mother on the other hand had nary a clue. This whole affair had an impish deja vu feeling of a dreaded trip to Principal’ s Office which had placed Ms. Leicester on edge. As all single working moms know, conferencing with scholastic ‘professionals’ is always knotty. These types of summonses as a rule are meticulous orchestrated toward academia’ s favor and there was every reason to expect that today’s conference is arranged in similar fashion. Anticipating her pool of sympatric colleagues to augment appears a totally wasted effort, as once her divorce decree was made final “Mr. Co-Litigant” has seldom been obliged to show up at work let alone make an appearance on behalf of his daughter. Consequently today’s assbly will have to be addressed with the presently assbled cast of two and like lambs to the slaughter Mrs. Leicester and her daughter marched along the bookish corridor. Both women were primed for the worse and had come very inappropriately attired for a strident melee. Lindsey was wearing a slinky black dress featuring a plunging cowl neckline that nosedives all the way to her midriff eager to accent her influential amenities to a favorable advantage. While Mom arrived outfitted in a flirty yet officious pin-striped periwinkle jacket, matching pencil skirt, a harmonizing blue blouse accented with seamed stockings and complimenting high heeled shoes indicating this curvilinear lady was not a woman to be trifled with and she was abundantly prepared to prove it.
Together, mother and daughter stepped through the lecture hall door and as per formal protocol waited at the back ingress to be recognized. Ever so slowly the mesmeric twosome considered the cavernous atmosphere of the semi-circular Lecture Hall as their vision adjusted to the murkiness of the space. This titanic sanctuary of higher learning offered rotund theater seating for the sunken mahogany balustrade that had been sagaciously endowed with a multi-paned sliding whiteboard appliance, cleverly integrated theatrical lighting applications and also incorporating a high-tech over-head projection option for Power Point presentations, all mingling in design to encourage scrutiny upon any apprentice foolish enough to venture onto this theater of the cultured. The ladies’ calculated panoramic inspection pressed on, taking account of the unique seating arrangement that assimilated a massive writing table complete with an emerald shaded reading lantern tactically sited dead center among the congregational incumbency. This impressive work station was outfitted with a state-of-the-art sound system, Corinthian leather ink-padding, an Alienware Aurora m7700 laptop computer and,,, HIM!
The seated Professor was locally highlighted by the jaded glow cast from the author’s lantern upon his desktop that found this academic dressed in exemplary gloomy shades of fabric. Classically outfitted with jet black, front pleated, imported Boby Jones golfing pants, a long sleeved hand-tailored Ralph Lauren Bistre shirt and an understated amethyst hewed Jerry Garcia silk tie with Windsor style spectacles balanced half the way down the bridge of his nose. He was hot! With a fish or cut bail, no nonsense, graying at the temples, alpha male manner about him that can make women tingle just below their belly buttons. Surrounded by term papers, black-line sketches and Blue Books while referencing information from the LCD screen this multi-tasker of the highest order intentionally let his scheduled callers stew at the edge of his pedagogic realm to cement the picking order for this pre planned conference.
Then without even a word and using only a double twirl of his wrist that set his upwardly pointing index finger circling until a whip like gesture of his dialing-digit steered the two women down the stairs and onto the plinth of his scholastic forum. Descending the theater’s set of precipitous steps in such a vaguely lighted fashion proved a complicated exploit without any safety precautions afforded from banisters. The self-conscious descent by the long-limbed famine brace become disturbingly evident in the professor’s periphery vision and collected the professor’s attention as glimpses of thigh flesh encouraged his methodical inspection. By slowly raising his head from his pressing formalities and staring down his nose the female forms improved their focus once centered within the teacher’s Windsor lens. While he carefully monitored the ladies’ wobly downward journey the instructor’s decolletage assumed an uncomfortable slant necessitating the readjustment of his wire-rimmed spectacles into a more conventional pose that was skillfully accomplished by nudging the bridge-rest of the corrective lens along his refined proboscis.
Stumbling into the brightness of the center stage illumination, both women were forced to squint aloft in the direction of the professor’s lofty arrangement. Shading their eyes and leaning forward did little to alter the glare as their feminine structures received a leisurely scrutiny from above. Uncomfortable silence ruled the moment as both parties struggle to brace the voyeur’ s opportunity. The fidgeting with hems and the tugging at dipping necklines by of the gals demonstrated their awareness of their ineffectual circumstance. The mired seconds reluctantly conceded to potential opportunity as time enjoyed a holiday. Self-consciously the women scrutinized their sparse surroundings as the learned tutor made delicate adjustments to the lighting applications, enhancing the tinge of illumination to accent the attractive suntanned skin tones both ladies were sporting. This suspended occasion gave way to the startling sound of the amplified voice of the officious teacher as he directed his neglectful student to compose a proper introduction.
After hurried formalities were extended, the women were genially offered access to a pair of wooden barstools stationed center stage and the dialogue began. Once the stilted chairs had been provocatively mounted, the Professor sternly lectured both highly seated women concerning the agenda for today’s meeting by explaining that Mrs. Leicester and her daughter had been summoned here today in the interests of full academic disclose. Further, as the custodian of Lindsey’s education at this institution of higher learning it is a teacher’s assigned responsibility to report any improprieties pertaining to this scholastic stewardship. Unfortunately this morning’ s visit had been predicated upon just such a regrettable occasion and could very well negatively affect Lindsey’s academic standing by depriving Lindsey of her endowment. The professor summarily elucidated how his exhaustive assessment of the Leicester household’s financial statement obliging attached to Lindsey’s scholarship application identified how alimony allotments, tenancy codicils and Lindsey’s trust fund distributions are all contingent upon Lindsey’s uninterrupted enrollment and graduation from this university and had provided ample motivation for Mrs. Leicester’s offspring’ s unseemly suggestion of exchanging carnal knowledge involving her instructor in favor of him constructively augmenting Lindsey’s mid-term score, thus removing the threat of her scholarly disentitlement.
The professor reassured a very shocked Mrs. Leicester that in spite of the ample opportunity, lesions in the company of apprentices of imperfect fluency were not his practice. Nor was it his intention to cavalierly rupture the Leicester Family’s delicate fiscal equilibrium without extending an addendum to Lindsey’s very attractive and uniformly inappropriate proposal by upping the ante with a triangular muse concerning a maternal complement that upon capitulation would secure a negotiable midterm mark capable of saving Lindsey’s pedantic entitlement.
The instructor explained how he fully intended to have his way with this desperate single mom and even projected incorporating her enthusiastic initiate to boot. The pair of women had just been schooled by this lecherous teacher in every implication of the word competitively, intellectually, esthetically, monetarily and biologically. The professor’s victory was as devastating, as his terms for their feminine surrender had been scandalous. Raison d'etre for this educator was deemed as warranted under his sblance of following stringent systematic guidelines for his independent scientific research into the various motivational factors prompting contradictory behavior with regard to a woman’s material commitment to their progeny. And as such, Mrs. Leicester had been deliberately manipulated towards this pivotal life altering occasion owing to the incapacity of these two pampered woman to absorb the cost of the 35k tuition that Lindsey’s expulsion would create.
Submitting to the moment, ever so grudgingly Mrs. Leicester’s hand went to work at the top button of her adorable periwinkle jacket and then leisurely progressing lower to the bottom one as the front of her jacket was disengaged unfettering her generous torso upon this scholarly venue. The business coat was only the first garment to depart from the Mother’s frame as piece by reluctant piece her outfit would be transferred into her daughter’s charge and draped upon the mahogany balustrade. Mrs. Leicester’s awkward hip-high tussle eventually gained the release of the protrusion holding the side of her matching periwinkle skirt waistband tightly together at her middle. Next the singing zipper announced her skirt would soon follow the jacket and decorate the mahogany railing by creating an opening just large enough to wiggle those MILF hips all the way through flaunting the lacy trimmings of top of her hoary leggings as the pencil shirt fell onto the floor at her ankles. After stepping out of the fabric tangled around her feet Mrs. Leicester used a coquettishly demure gesture when crouching down with both knees tightly fussed together in her endeavor to collect the soon to be forfeited article of clothing from off the floorboards and placing it into the hands of her waiting offspring. Having only her accenting azure blouse remaining at the post guarding the matron from his depraved scrutiny added to the ignominy of the oral reprimand Lindsey’s professor insisted upon administering. As he served equal portions of scolding towards the two women alternately admonishing them for lack of parental regulation and poor study habits then referencing the absence of maternal character and the junior’s indifference drawing to a close only once Ms. Leicester applied her nible fingers to the task of unfastening the twelve buttons holding the back of her azure blouse together. Button by button the lecture ground to a screeching fault until only silence filled the outsized homily hall as the Mistress gradually revealed herself as dorsally entirely suntanned shoulder to hips. Forfeiting the silk chemise recognized how Mrs. Leicester was in attendance minus upper body tan-lines and all her intimate undergarments as she now wore only a pair of silk stockings and a suspender belt with her an assortment of naked trophies uncovered to him to analysis and doubly laid bare before her daughter’s gaze.
The Professor’s suggestion was wrong upon so many levels and Mrs. Leicester’s mind was spiraling at the unadulterated volume of sins; Public Nudity, Incestuous Contact, Menage-tri, Age Inappropriate, Exhibitionism, Dominatrix and Servitude. The look of total emused resignation that crossed Mrs. Leicester’s face was confirmation of her measured capitulation to his abnormal demands. The shock of discovering herself standing before both, her treasonous daughter and Lindsey’s accommodating tutor, totally exposed head to shoe top in this buff manor, promptly sealed the deal as far as Mrs. Leicester was concerned upon discovering herself as a casualty of familiar duplicity.
From the onset of this scholastic ‘get-together’ Mrs. Leicester was doubling outmanned and now three are about to be joined as one. Without exchanging words the women made ocular conversation as Mom shot a look at Lindsey that could melt lead. Sheepishly Lindsey’s head tilted toward the left and she smiled her hackneyed “oops, I did it again” expression before shrugged her shoulders upward sufficiently enough to allow them to slip through the large cowl collar that was holding up her little black dress allowing it to descend the length Lindsey’s bare naked silhouette falling into a ringed quantity about her ankles divulging how the junior female too, had clandestinely attended today’s affair commando style.
Love in the Library
A young woman looking for fantasy fiction finds reality better
"Good morning, Miss. I've got your usual station reserved for you, if you would just like to follow me."
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Damn, it's the school ma'am; Tuesday is usually The Angel at this time. Oh well she might be in later I suppose.
I don't wait for the librarian and head off on my own, I've been coming here at least three times a week for the last 5 years and can find my own way to the warm oak desk that has almost become my own. She tags along just to be sure, I suppose it's part of the job, but I'm too tired to join in the whispered small talk. I place my hand on the back of the leather upholstered chair, my index finger resting in the place where the missing metal stud should be and I feel at home.
With a curt, unfelt 'Thank you, ' I dismiss the school ma'am and move to the rack of books behind my desk and find the tome I was reading the last time and heave the heavy, leather bound book back to my desk and settle down to read.
"Don't stare." I hear a voice whisper to my left and a young child's voice answer "But mummy, that lady is following the words with her finger and her lips are moving, you said only little girls do that when they read."
I ignore the brat as it is dragged away, hopefully to be chided for its grossly uncivilised behaviour. Self consciously I try to stop myself mouthing the words as I read, but the flow dries up and I make a conscious decision not to let the miserable kid ruin my pleasure, but the spell is broken and I stop to take a drink from the bottle of water in my bag.
Sitting back I let my mind wander as I take the roll call of my fellow bibliophiles. To my left and 3 stations behind is Bruno, his tweed jacket smelling of damp from the rain this morning, mixed with the heavy pipe tobacco that gave me his name.
To my right is Florence, named for the way she speaks with a slight Italian accent and her apparent insatiable love of tomato sandwiches.
I wasn't surprised that Miss Marple was missing, she was an infrequent visitor on Tuesdays, presumably having to make time to go to the post office to collect her pension, and anyway this morning's rain would have set off her cough so I am not disappointed she has gone awol.
Until Bruno pushed back his chair and snapped his book closed, and from the sound I knew he had finished his novel, I wasn't aware of time passing, the words flying off the page to create a world in my mind. He shuffles to the desk and speaks sotto voce to the librarian, although with this old buildings acoustics he may as well have been shouting, and in some ways it would have been easier to ignore if he had, there was something about a whisper that just cried out to be listened to.
I check my watch, the hands making the perfect vertical line of six o'clock and I decide to stay a bit longer and return to my fantasy world in the pages of my book.
I roll my head and feel a crick in my neck, but I'm not ready yet to go home, especially as I hear the sound of metal tipped heels on the tiled floor, The Angel has arrived. I continue to try to ease the stiffness in my neck as her voice floats across the room, like water rushing breathlessly over submerged rocks as she apologises to the school ma'am for being late.
In comparison to The Angel's voice, the other woman's is harsh as she berates her colleague for being so inconsiderate and proceeds to put things in her hand bag in a way that just screams her bad temper before stomping out.
Although I've never actually heard her, I'm sure in her mind The Angel hums to herself as she click clacks round the shelves replacing books in their proper place, and I'm sure the school ma'am disapproves of it, in fact she probably disapproves of The Angel per se. But I don't; I love to hear her heels making a staccato statement that she is a woman as well as a librarian, her long cotton dress swishing against nylon clad legs pronouncing her femininity.
"Well zat is enough for tonight." Florence say's, stifling a yawn; and her chair scrapes backwards and her soft leather boots muffle her steps as she leaves, the wind whistling for a moment as she opens the door to the outside world I came here to escape.
I try to return to my book, but my mind is elsewhere, following the sound of The Angel as she moves between the stacks, then I realise I haven't heard her for a couple of minutes, she was in the travel section and now there is just silence, the sort of silence that is impossible to ignore.
In an instant I'm back in my parents garden, the scent of roses my mother held for me to sniff, their soft, velvety petals brushing my nose and cheek transporting me there in a flash; and I know she is behind me, her perfume so sweet and heady it almost masks her natural musky odour, almost but not quite, the two combining in a wonderful way that robs me of my ability to concentrate.
I read and re-read the same line over and over but the words don't form a coherent whole in my mind, each one an island, isolated from its neighbour and the scent grows stronger and I can hear her soft breathing as she moves ever closer on her silent stocking covered feet.
I wait for her to speak but the deafening silence remains and I flinch involuntarily as I feel her hands rest gently on my shoulders, her thumbs pressing lightly just below the nape of my neck finding the knots that have settled there as I read. The thumbs press a little harder and I feel the long nails of her fingers against the top of my collar bone.
The thumbs move as mirror images up beneath my bob cut, her palms sliding forwards until her little fingers are just beneath the open neck of my silk blouse. I let my head loll to one side, my cheek caressing the smooth skin on the back of her hand and her perfume becomes stronger and for the merest instant I feel her hair brush my other cheek.
I want to speak, but her silence makes me mute and I just fall back against the chair, my shoulders cushioned against her cotton covered stomach.
She's bolder now, her little fingers following my bra straps downwards towards my already aching breasts and any tension I had felt was dissolved beneath her expertly gentle touch.
Her hands come together, her index fingers touching as they move down between my swelling breasts, the other fingers flowing over the lacy material of my bra, before her nails scrape back, having not quite reached my nipples as I so long for them to do, and heaven, they move back and I feel her hair again, prefacing the warm lips that are now kissing the side of my neck and I moan, softly, but it echoes around the high room as her teeth close lightly on the lobe of my ear.
I press her hands against my breasts with my mine, only the gossamer thin material of my blouse separating them as her warm wet tongue slips inside my ear and I am unable to suppress a shudder and I'm scared she will think I don't want her to continue, but she doesn't stop, her lips now landing velvety kisses on my cheek before vanishing only to resume on my other side, repeating each practiced, enchanting touch and I squeeze my thighs together, trying to magnify the delicate tingles that are tickling my dampening pussy and I know my aroma is mingling with hers just as I want our bodies to mingle.
I whimper as her hands withdraw, leaving mine to fondle my breasts through my blouse. I feel her take hold of my glasses and remove them and I'm afraid, vulnerable without them and I start to protest but her hand holds my chin, her index finger lying horizontally across my lips, forbidding me to speak, and I taste her, my lips parting and my tongue exploring the length of her finger. She tastes clean, a mixture of soap and moisturiser and the hint of varnish on her nails and I want to bite her digit but it is removed, leaving her taste in my mouth and the forbidding in place.
Soft silk covers my eyes and it smells of The Angel, as if the scarf had been around her neck and I let her tie it behind my head. I am hers now, I know whatever she wants The Angel can have and I shiver to think that what she wants is me.
I ache for her touch, but the hands have gone, only her fragrance remains, filling my mind like a fog and I hear the unmistakable sound of silk swishing against nylon and I know she is taking off her panties and my heart races as I feel them caressing my cheek, the silk warm and soft against my skin.
They smell of her, her musk infusing the material and I taste her as she presses them against my lips. I open my mouth to let my tongue feast on her and her fingers push them between my lips and I want her so badly. Wait it's too much, she's filling my mouth with them, pushing my tongue down and back, my mouth full of her scent and taste, too late my cries are muffled by the silky panties.
Her hands are caressing my shoulders as I try in vain to push her knickers out of my mouth, but they fill my void and I can't as she gently guides me to my feet and I hear the chair being moved away.
I lift my hands to my face to try and remove the gag, but she takes my wrists, not harshly, holding them only by her fingertips as if taking my pulse, but I stop moving and let her move my arms to my sides. Powerless to resist her, I leave them there even after she releases me.
I feel her cotton covered breasts against my back and her soft clean hair once more against my cheek and I am no longer concerned about the gag, I'm content to feel her close, and to have my mouth full of her taste.
Her arms encircle me and I hear her nails click against the pearl buttons of my blouse as she unfastens them, exposing my body to the warm air and I think I am going to melt, to puddle at her feet into a quivering pool of desire.
My blouse slips down my arms to lie discarded at my feet and now her hands are on my hips and the zip of my skirt sings as it is slowly, oh so very slowly drawn down, held now only by the button at the waist that she is already twisting through the buttonhole and my skirt joins my blouse around my booted feet.
With an obviously practised skill, her fingers unfastened my bra and my nipples cry out their pleasure at being released from the confining cups, before I'm ignited as her nails scrape against the sensitive nubs, electrifying me with lust for her.
Her hands leave my breasts and slide over my firm stomach, moving outwards until they once more hold my wrists and I offer no resistance as she pulls them behind me leaving the wrists crossed, the backs resting against my silky French knickers
I know what she is going to do, and yes the satin feels warm against my wrists as she binds them in place. I whimper softly against her panties that have soaked up my saliva, and my mind is as full of her as my mouth is.
I'm turned, once, twice, three times, the heels of my boots tangling with my discarded clothes, and still I'm spun. I only stop when her hands leave me and I am a little afraid, totally disorientated, I don't know whether I am facing her or not and she is as silent as a ghost and the taste of her in my mouth masks the source of her scent.
I've lost track of time, have I been stood here seconds or minutes? My heart is pounding so fast I can hardly breathe and I flinch as the back of a nail traces across my ribs, vanishing just as quickly as it appeared.
Now I feel her warm breath blowing against the nape of my neck and then into my ear, a finger tip slides up the outside of my thigh as she teases me, knowing I daren't move from where she has placed me for fear of falling.
She's lifting me; her hands either side of my waist and I'm sitting on my desk, my panties sliding across the wood that has been rubed to a shine by years of use. I splay the fingers of my bound hands and steady myself even as I feel her pull my legs open and stand between them, her cotton dress against my skin as she leans towards me, her pussy pressing lightly against mine and I want to cry out as her warm moist mouth finds my breast; but her panties still fill my mouth and I just whimper softly as her tongue dances across my acing tit, spiralling around my hard nipple.
Her fingers squeeze my other nipple as she plaits her other hand in the back of my hair, pulling my head back and now she is covering my mouth with hers and I long to push my tongue inside her but I can't.
My hips grind in counterpoint to hers, her cotton dress swishing against my silky knickers and I think I'm about to explode and I hear her ripping open her dress, the buttons down the from popping slightly as they escape their holes and she is naked save for her stockings and I feel her flesh against mine as she returns to teasing my breasts and my head buzzes with desire for my Angel.
Both her hands are now kneading my soft mounds, nailed fingertips squeezing my nipples as she kisses her way down my stomach, her tongue exploring my navel before travelling further downwards, her mouth now over my dripping pussy, her saliva soaking into the silk covering panties, the material slicking to my skin, dampness added from outside and in.
I need to scream my passion for my Angel.
Long nails scrape my hips as she starts to pull down my knickers, I sense her eagerness and try to help, to lift my arse, but my legs are dangling, my hands bound and in any case The angel is managing quite well on her own. I sag back, but only for a moment until she has thrown away my panties and I feel her warm breath on my pussy, her lips hovering just above and I try to push myself into her, but she maintains the separation.
My minds screams silently as her tongue touches me, flicking like a butterfly drinking nectar at a flower and I squirm uncontrollably as her teeth hold my clit before her lips surround it, sucking it into her warm orifice and I cum, I cum, I cum.
My body is on fire, and she is feeding the flames and I no longer care where I am or even who I am, my Angel wants me to cum and I do so for her, again and again until I no longer rber anything other than cumming. I am an orgasm, it is what I am here for, to cum and cum again as The Angel wills it.
When did it stop? She is still kissing me, her warm tongue lapping my juices and my body aches, my bound hands pressing into the small of my back where I have collapsed unnoticed on to them.
She must know I have returned for her tongue stops and her hands are on my shoulders lifting me, she wants me to stand, but my legs are shaking and I gladly let her lower me to my knees.
I hear the scrape of the chair's legs and then fingers pushing past my dry lips, the panties being pulled free from my desert dry mouth and I want, no I need a drink, and my Angel knows it, for her hands cover my ears, her fingers knotting into my hair and she forces my head towards the sweetest source of moisture I could ever imagine.
I coat my tongue and lips with her, smear her juice around my mouth and I want more, and she has more than enough as she bucks her hips, pressing herself against me, and each time my tongue dips into her the liquid sweetness is renewed and the whole building reverberates to the sound of The Angel's pleasure.
She's kneeling now and our mouths are locked, each tasting ourselves in the others mouth and the world is a wonderful place to be as our breasts press against the others, damp pussies conjoined as they quiver.
We part, both gasping air and I hate myself for it but I have to ask. 'Why did you blindfold me, Angel?'
"Because." She says and my heart leaps at the sound of her voice. "I blindfold all my lovers the first time, so why should I treat you any differently?"
Even had we not just made heavenly love, I would have adored her for all eternity for those words.
"Would you like to see me now?" She asks and I nod, a poor representation of the desire I feel.
Once more our breasts meet as she reaches behind me, delicate fingers slipping the knot and the silk scarf falls to the floor and I see her; my fingers that can read small raised dots on paper trace over her baby soft skin, rising over high cheek bones and being tickled as her long lashes flutter. Her mouth is warm with full lips lifting into an easy smile. "You are beautiful." I gasp and I know I have pleased her with my homage for the smile broadens and we kiss again, slower now, more lovingly and I am the happiest woman alive, for in a place a blind woman had gone to find escape from a cruel world, I had found my hearts desire.
An infidelity. Tired of my boring husband
Hi, my name is Monica, a Spanish woman from Argentina, South America. This story I’m about to begin is 100% percent true and happened only just two years ago when I still was married, save for I‘m a divorced woman now.
Well, before I start on this account, I’d like to describe myself: 36 yo., black straight hair, a white and meaty lips; big breasted thanks to a boob job, a gorgeous ass that stand out a lot. Besides, I have received lots of flattery and compliments, they throw a bouquet on me saying oh, darling, oh my darling bitch, etc., while I’ve enjoyed that but pay no attention, never look back, only go straight, pretending I’m not listening.
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At the beginning of this story Alberto, a Spanish guy too, proposed me matrimony. He’s a 57 yo. guy, and despite I had refused any engagement after got divorced, we began to get along very well, and became good acquaintances, I didn’t want any fucking relationship though. At first I became conscious I was going through a bad time, out and down, not a fucking penny, out of work, and was determined to marry this well off man, with good economic status like that of a well heeled middle-aged American male.
We became friends; he owned a law office where he got me a job with a good salary, as his junior. After three months in this job as a helper, he dated me and while in a luxurious restaurant having dinner, he proposed, and my answer came quickly: “yes.” No doubt this guy was a good man, not to mention his good financial position.
I married Albert and everything was ok at the beginning. We apparently would succeed in our relationship, but the sexual stuff. We married and immediately I lacked or didn’t have a lot of gratification, fulfillment at sex; he either would feel asleep on top of me while doing love or got home too late; soon some ideas came up to my mind about cheating my husband, but never dared, despite a thousand opportunities had showed up on the way: I can tell about the many instances in which I boarded an overcrowded bus and I got hard rods pressed to my ass, while riding this bus; they would give me their cell phone number to me. This has happened to me with males ranging all ages, well built ones, with good complexion, and all that.
While I’m not especially smart, but I’m built, a woman with a sturdy and attractive body, esp with large
Everybody would stare at me having images of me naked at the gym and dared to address to me in a pervert manner, taking dirty in front of my couple. He’s quite jealous and therefore gets annoyed, irritated easily, but he would take it easy, like a submissive and obedient man. On the other hand, I’m happy at being complemented, especially if I’m living with a well heeled husband.
%%%%%%%
One day I decided to make my move because my husband had fallen behind and had failed to fuck my brains out. We had gotten up early to go to the superstore, so I wore my tight jeans, fucking tight, indeed, and a top with low neck with my marvelous thong under my fucking tight white jean, whilst I used more make up than usual. I no sooner stepped in the supermarket than I noticed all men staring at me with curiosity and interest while I checked the stands –racks- for cereal. I came up with the idea of bending over to grab an oil bottle, so that boy at work in the supermarket who was arranging the merchandise on one shelf could see my nice thong. Albert seemed not to be paying attention, so I played fool. I was happy this way and so was the clerk.
As we were going out of the mall, I saw a handsome guy leaning against the wall. He had a certain charm; noticing he was smoking I asked for a cigarette and smiled gladly at him while he lighted my cigarette. This was enough for Abert to go mad and said:
“Damnit, have had enough. How could you do this?!!” I replied:
“I did what?”
He said:
“Don’t you play foul, Monica. Let’s go home now!!”
I was happy shivering with this kind of funny situation, coz this only would screw up my audacity. As we got home he began to scream at me saying:
“I can’t take this anymore, you no longer are going to dress up like that, you hear me?”
I played the victim here, pretending I was fucked by the fickle finger of fate, and rushed to my bedroom crying, making believe I was suffering. A little while later Alberto was trying to comfort me and apologized, asking what he could do about this to please me and make me happy. Well, I only needed a caveman, a strong man. He asked:
“Oh, darling, how could I possible please you?” I said:
“Oh, I don’t know. I want to have fun.”
He said: “I don’t get it.”
I said:
“I just want to have a good time, go to a disco.”
I wished I had said I needed a real caveman, a crude man, one who was sexually rough to fuck my brains out. I needed a real macho.
“Ok, my queen, wanna party? Let’s go.” He said.
&&&&&&
This week Albert would hire a gardener to perform a good job at the front yard, and told me someone would come so I had to be at home to give gardener’s directions -meet him.
Somebody rang the bell in the afternoon and, as I headed to the front to open the door for him, I saw a virile, young man I reckon 26 yo., physically powerful, well built, beautiful muscles, with tattoos –I like this- the perfect man ideal, a model, to stroke my vulva.
“Hi” he said. “I’m Alex. Nice to meet you, ma’am. Your father just hired me to fix a problem in the garden.”
I interrupted him laughing: “Mr. Albert is my husband. Get in and check what you gotta do here.”
I saw Alex took off his shirt while working. Didn’t believe my eyes. “I’d fuck this guy now” I thought.
I began to touch my pussy which was too wet by now, but Albert, my husband, would be here any moment. In fact, he arrived, I said:
“Hi, darling.” He replied:
“What’s the matter with you, Monica? You’re sweating, like agitated, tense”
I said:
“It’s nothing, darling, just a little dizzy.”
“He said:
“Oh, it’s ok. Hasn’t the gardener arrived yet?”
I replied:
“Oh, yes of course, the macho… sorry, the gardener is here.”
My couple left for work and I dressed up in an exciting way for Alex to see me, in an outfit consisting on short skirt, short tight pants, low neck, high heels, etc., in fact, any kind of insinuation or hint that would assist me to arouse him. In that particular day, Alex had been gardening outdoors. I noticed he was doing a tough job there so I didn’t hesitate in asking: “Would you like to come in for a soda?”
Alex said “Yes” immediately.
I was so horny I couldn’t tolerate this anymore while wearing my mini blue jean skirt, a gorgeous thong, low neck blouse and red lipstick… in fact, a very attractive eye catching woman.
Alex stared at my well built body. Oh, how I wished I had his big head at the door of my ass, to run my hand up his leg, coming close to his penis, then start to lightly rub his rod through his pants, start licking his cock head. Oh, yes, please, fuck my face, the taste of my ass on his cock.
I had been day dreaming while seducing Alex, showing off my ass, shaking it for him, my thong too evident through my tight pants while looking for stuff to drink coffee.
&&&&&&
We had a wonderful chat, inquiring about his private life, what you do for a living, etc. It’s at this moment I ask for a cigarette, light it, take a deep puff and threw smoke in his face at times. Fuck!! I was wishing to devour this young guy with my pussy hungry for cocks. No doubt this was a cocksman and it would be was advisable to dance so I’d warm up for a good hard-core.
Alex stood up and braced me firmly, kissing me while his hand run along my legs and tummy, but never touched me between my thighs. I felt as something wet run down my legs, with juices dripping… I hadn’t been yet touched here, though I had been moaning loudly like pervert bitch, even before penetration.
Nonetheless to say, I was urged for a good rod right away to grind that eager cunt. He suddenly introduced his damn wonderful piece of meat, and a loud scream was heard around the room. He nailed me to the deep end.
“Ooh,” I cried out again. My pussy hole stretched to accommodate his plunging dick In and out his cock thrust as I slipped up and down his cock.
“God, yes.” I squealed.
We spend hours fucking that evening, and I cummed four times. I’ll never forget how well this young man had fucked me over.
Finally, I divorced Alberto, and later he realized that Alex had been trimming the garden quite well, and but Alex also kept on visiting me, not exactly to have the grass and plants trimmed but to care for the other garden, the bush between my thighs and have it trimmed it with a good finish!!
THE END
