Title: Slut Next Door
Keywords: mF, mdom, cheat
Author: Caesar
Slut Next Door
by Caesar, copyright 2002
$Revision: 1.1 $ $Date: 2002/04/26 17:04:40 $
I'm the luckiest seventeen year in my town - and I can't even tell
anyone. Don't think I haven't tried, just that my closest buddy
started to turn real squirrelly when I started to tell him about
Dixie, I immediately changed the subject.
You see, Dixie is the slut that lives next door. Well, that does not
properly describe her - Dixie is my personal slut next door. That in
itself is a great thing. What would you say if I also tell you that
Dixie is fifty-eight years old?
I'm no longer a lucky guy but some sick pervert right?
Well read this short written diarrhoea about when we first fucked and
how she became my slut and then judge me. Its the only form of
bragging I have, as I can't actually talk with anyone about what is
going on in my sex life.
Lets start with Dixie - or her real name, Diane Caraway. Before our
relationship really took off, I would have classified her as a frumpy
luckless woman who never smiled. She was simply a neighbour and I
rarely gave her a second thought. Dixie was a name I gave to her
after reading about a retired stripper, from the forties, by the name
of Dixie. So that became her 'title' between us. If truth be told, I
would guess Diane rather enjoyed her life as Dixie much more than the
latter.
Her looks then are different than they are today, though some things
stay the same. For one, Dixie always wears skirts or dresses. That
was one of the things I noticed about her first - her legs. Back then
she never showed her legs bare, but encased mostly in nylons. The
skirt, much to my disappointment, was always past her knees back then.
Then, one day, her skirt was the type that ended just around the
knee. The first time she noticed me admiring her in a sexual way, I
think it shook her up quite a bit. Here I was, a fourteen year staring at a woman enough to be my grandmother. If you don't know
anything about teenage boys, then let me tell you that everything was
sexual. So when Mrs. Caraway crossed her legs and her knee-length
skirt was accidentally pulled half-ways up her thighs revealing more
of her legs than ever before - I could I not help but gaze in lust.
I remember very little except admiring her nylon covered legs while
time disappeared. From what I have gathered though, is that Diane sat
there staring in near-shock between her crossed legs up to my
wide-eyes and back again, numerous times. It puzzled and amazed her
at first - why was this looking at her legs so intently?
Over fifty she may be but no one in her whole life, even before she
married, looked at her with such open sexual admiration as I did just
then. Finally, minutes later perhaps, she pulled the skirt back down
to cover her knees. The spell was broken - or at least I was able to
turn my gaze away.
Diane did not know much about teenage boys, only having three grown
daughters, or she would have realized that that one look was a
sampling of my building excitement. If she had more experience with
boys and their single-minded desire for anything sexual she would have
cut off my interest immediately and turned me out of her home.
Instead she returned to the receipts before her, adding the totals
before I took the papers to my to do the same. It was for some
neighbourhood garage sale or something - its meaningless now.
The next time Diane looked up I was standing over her left shoulder,
as if patiently waiting for her to finish her task. Except when she
looked up she found my eyes staring past her shoulder and down the
cleavage that was revealed.
Seeing her legs had started my hunger, seeing soft white tit-flesh
added to the fire building in my loins so that I stood again
mesmerized gazing at her.
It was not like she was flashing me. Heavens no! The proper woman could never consider such an indiscretion! Her were
well encased beneath a huge white bra and white silk blouse. The
buttons were done nearly to her neck - but the natural thrust of her
large pushed the blouse out so that a shadowed tunnel lead to
the promised land.
Diane suddenly stood and lead me to the door without even a look in my
direction.. I followed silently, not even experienced enough to be
embarrassed, I did not know I had been caught.
Standing in the foyer, she handed me the bundle of receipts and
mumbled something about me going straight home. I tried hard not to
look at the pointy bosom before me but when I finally looked up into
my neighbours face, I saw that she was very as if she was about to
be sick.
The first thought I had was that she had caught me, the second that
she looked ill. My eyes, though, trailed naturally downward - as the
second place I always looked after a woman's face was her chest - and
saw two very distinct thrusting nipples beneath her white blouse. In
those first seconds, as I stared, they seemed to enlarge and point
directly at me.
For the first time I realized that I was staring, nearly panting
huskily, as I gazed openly at my neighbours chest. My face began to
flush and I felt just a little dizzy but I still stared at those
thrusting nipples for several more lengthy seconds.
Diane stood there as if a trance, her eyes glassy as she simply looked
into my own brown eyes, seeing my hunger within.
I was starting to get nervous and, as was my way, began to break this
awkward situation by a little humour. The way I was going to do this
was bring up a hand between us and wave it before her eyes - as if to
see if she was awake. Instead of making the stupid joke I brought my
right hand up and even before I began to wave it before her - Diane
suddenly hissed as she in air, closed her eyes and thrust out
her chest toward me. I stood there stunned, with my hand mere
centimetres from her bountiful chest.
All my inexperience, my naive gray matter told me to turn and
run... it was my painfully thrusting dick against my jeans that took
that first definitive step toward a new outlook on life for me. For
Diane as well, if I should be so bold.
It translates so cold - that simple little movement forward of my open
hand and the full that it suddenly grasped - yet it was a
momentous occasion for me, for us. It changed our lives, from that
moment on.
Even as my hand pressed forward, Diane mewed with pleasure and pressed
her torso toward me firmly. The flattened slightly in my
strong hand and I felt the unforgiving thrust of the nipple directly
in the middle of my palm.
I look from the aged, but attractive, face to my hands holding the
first of my life. Writing it now, it reads as so incredible,
impossible - and to me, it was. Yet, not so incredible for me to lift
my second hand and grasp the other thrusting tit before me. Though
too big for my hands, I remember chuckling to myself that they were a
perfect fit.
My hands squeezed and held those globes for some time until it was
Diane's deep sighs and the quivering of her flesh beneath my hands
that brought me back into focus.
It was the first, but most certainly not the last, time that I
realized that the gray haired woman before me was enough to be my
grandmother. And though my dick was hard and my hands full of her
covered-tit-flesh, it was just not right.
Right?
My hands fell back to my sides and I starred up into Diane's face.
Slowly she opened her eyes and looked at me with such a pitiful,
sorrowful look that I wondered if I had done something, besides the
obvious, wrong. Then that look changed slightly, into something one
of the at school reveals when she looks at her boyfriend. The
jock had stood there in the middle of the busy hallway, a group of
guys ogling his gorgeous girlfriend as he slipped one hand beneath her
sweater and fondles her chest brazenly, while she just looked at him
with something like love, submission and acceptance all in one long
gaze. Turning toward the general direction of the crowd he brags
matter-a-fact, "What can I say, the slut will do anything I tell her!"
That was the look that Diane was giving me right then.
This time I was trembling, my hands quivered as I again brought them
up. When Diane saw them approaching, she in a lungful of air
and held it while watching my advance.
My trembling fingers, god was I embarrassed that I was not calm and
cool as I thought I should, began to unbutton the round pearl buttons
on the white silk blouse. The womans eyes were watching me but I
ignored her - else I may not have had the fortitude to complete my
chosen task.
As I pressed the blouse wide, all the buttons undone, and awkwardly
pulled the tails from the waistband of her skirt - I was confronted by
a white undergarment that was both functional and rather unappealing,
to my innocent eyes. Diane wore what I thought was a bra, like my
mother wears, but instead it was like a bra on top but the bottom went
down her stomach and disappeared beneath the edge of her skirt.
Diane cleared her throat and said rather huskily, "Do you want to
leave?"
Had I shown disappointment at seeing the hopelessness of, at least,
getting to to her naked chest in the next few moments? The
undergarment was functionally and not overly attractive but I knew
with a certainty that it would be a bitch to remove! I looked again
into her eyes, and though they held the same contradictions as before,
I saw, with a certainty, that she thought I would leave.
She was wrong.
There was a dark brown shade beneath the white flowered fabric
of each thrusting nipple, it was enough to cause the trembling to
reach my shoulders so that my torso shivered. My hands, also
trembling, again reached up, and I felt the woman's surprise and
pleasure as I again grasped her chest firmly in hand. This time I was
more brazen as I kneaded them roughly, trying to press them together,
to flatten them to squeeze them into cones - all while Diane gasped
and sighed in response.
A new self assurance began to take hold in my brain and any thought of
embarrassment or of flight was not in my conscious. Here was a woman,
a live breathing woman that not only allowed me to touch her in ways
that I only fantasized about but seemed to enjoy and even desire more.
It was like a ten year getting handed the keys to the candy store.
My body was trembling violently now - out of desire. Those wild
barely-contained teenage hormones were breaking free and I found my
mind starting to cloud over with my white hot lust.
By rough handholds I pulled Diane toward me by her covered and
thrust my face before hers. I had kissed before, but never so
violently so carefree. Diane in her favour, took it all and accepted,
nay, enjoyed my ravishing inexperienced attentions. I speared my
tongue past her dry lips and raped her orally while I felt my teeth
randomly grind into hers painfully.
My hands though, had not been idle. I gave a earnest and useless
attempt to ripe the front of that god damned contraption that hid her
large sexy chest, then gave up in frustration. Then I reached down
and non-too gently pulled her knee-length skirt up to her waist so
that my hands could reach beneath. Using aggressive and totally
amateurish fumbling I pushed down both, her hose and panties,
undergarments in a single shove.
That most impossible of fantasies, what seemed so distant yet desired
so often by myself and by so many of my peers was there naked before
me.
My hands slipped between us and I fumbled with my jeans.
Forcing her head to the side, as I was distracted with getting my own
sex free, she gasped into my ear, "Not here... please... in the
bedroom...?"
Diane's request was not only denied but I barely registered those
words till afterwards. Instead, we became a tumble of limbs and
clothing as I found myself above and between Diane's spread soft
thighs upon the cool spotless hard-wood floor.
My dick was free and painfully hard as I held it as if my hand knew
the path better than my one-eyed hungry love pole! The skirt was
getting in the way, my jeans and underwear down around my knees
hindering my movements... and Diane just lay there watching me while
breathing rapidly and deeply.
Suddenly the circumcised head of my cock felt the rough tickle of
coarse pubic hair. It had to be her right? I pressed forward
and little more and felt the warmth envelope the head of my
dick. Using my hand, I moved myself, with difficulty, downward and
suddenly I simply slid into what I had always known in fantasy, as
heaven.
I was not disappointed. Rather it was a magical moment - rather
humorous in retrospect, but one that I would never have changed, given
a chance.
Diane seemed to find pleasure in that moment as well, as she had
screamed out and then stared at me in wide-eyed and open mouthed
surprise - as if she too were a virgin. She watched me as I roughly
jack-hammered in and out of her rocking body - her sex boiling and
anxious, though in my innocence I took that for granted.
I lasted less than a minute until I ground my sparse pubic hair
against the shaggy bush between Diane's legs and groaned as I felt the
explosion take control and release within that elder body.
My load spurted again and again, feeling as if every nerve of my body
was radiating with fantasy-like pleasure as I collapsed upon the top
of my half-naked neighbour.
The first realization, after my senses returned to near-normal, was
that I could hear the fast beat of Diane's heart. Then I felt the
warm liquid envelope of her sex clench my soft dick as if she did not
want me to leave her.
Guilt - that was what hit me, more than the realization that I was no
longer a virgin, that I seriously enjoyed the last few minutes - that
I may have raped Mrs. Caraway... on her fucking foyer floor for gods
sake!
I quickly rolled away from her body and fumbled with my jeans,
suddenly embarrassed and feeling way out of my league. Stealing a
quick look, I saw Mrs. Caraway slowly and carefully roll up to a
kneeling position facing away from me and begin to return herself back
to normal.
I certainly had gone a little crazy, not including the obvious the sex
stuff, as her nylons and white lay in disarray around one leg,
about her thigh. Her blouse was still upon her shoulders, the rear of
it tucked into her skirt, but it appeared very wrinkled. The back of
her normally well groomed gray hair was messy and from the side I
could see the worried look upon her face coupled with the soiled
lipstick, saliva covered lips and chin - all making her look her age.
Her posture was less than her normal perfect, but of course I had
never seen her sit on the floor half-dressed before. She looked tiny,
old and humiliated.
Mumbling my fear, I said, "You won't tell about this will you?" I
was thinking of jail, of the embarrassment of my peers learning about
this single loss of control, about what my would say... I also
realized I may be carted away in handcuffs for having sex with a woman
whom I had not even seen naked!
Mrs. Caraway did not stop in trying to achieve some sort of normalcy
in her appearance as she half-whispered her reply, "I will not tell
anyone what happened here today."
Other than my immediate relief at her words, I realized that she had
said them with such conviction that I knew she did not want anyone
else to know what we did with as much conviction as I did.
My jeans were quickly re-buttoned and my soiled cock back in its
place, as I knelt upon the floor and began to gather the long
forgotten receipts that had sent me over for. At some point
Mrs. Caraway had dropped them from her hand and they had scattered the
width of the room.
As if age was a weight of burden, Diane slowly rose to her feet and I
stopped in my gathering to watch her in pity. What I had done to her
could never be forgiven and I had no idea what to say or do to make it
better - or even if I could.
A whisper even as she was doing up the buttons on the front of her
blouse, "I'm sorry what happened here today."
Even though she was not even facing me and the words were barely
audible, I knew they were for me. My eyes filled up and watered in
guilt as well as pity, "I'm sorry too Mrs. Caraway!" And I was - I
truly was!
"I am sure your next time will be more memorable for you...!"
What? Memorable. What does that have to do about having forced
myself upon her. Why did she not stop me even before I had half-torn
her blouse off? Those nipples though, they were indeed hard and
Mrs. Caraway has certainly sounded pleased as I played with them.
Then why did she not even move as I fucked her, not a finger or a
foot, as I slammed in and out of her body?
I just had to ask, "Memorable?"
Her hands trembled and she was having trouble with the last button,
"Someone your own age... pretty...?" I had seen photos, about the
walls of her home, and Mrs. Caraway was never a pretty woman - plain
yes, but never noticeable in any sense. In some ways I would say she
was more attractive now that she had been twenty, thirty years,
before.
Mrs. Caraway had given up on the last button and started to step out
of the room - and she had to go past my kneeling form to do it. I
reached out and grasped a smooth soft naked calf just beneath the edge
of her skirt. She stopped immediately and sobbed, "Please go!"
I almost let go of her leg, so desperate was her plea, until I saw the
discarded tangled brown nylons and white on the floor where
she had left them after pulling them off her leg. I held upon the
calf of the woman I had admired so brazenly earlier, and that leg lead
upwards to a treasure trove where I had sacrificed my virginity only
seconds before. And it was now bare!
I had to know, "Did you enjoy it Mrs. Caraway?"
What I expected was an immediate denial and a rapid retreat from the
room, or at least from my grasping hand. The seconds turned into a
minute and I knew that it had not been rape after all, that she
desired... no, needed the attention I gave her. The truth of it made
me feel dizzy with awareness.
My hand moved up to the back of her knee and rubbed it openly. "I
enjoyed it Diane."
A single trembling wave rolled through her but she never gave me any
other indication that she heard me. Yet I knew she had - in fact I
was guessing that it was my own sexual awareness of her, the
excitement I received from her, that caused her own pleasure. She was
an woman - but still held and secret volumes of potential
eroticism. Perhaps Diane was a woman who had never been allowed, who
had always thought it dirty to feel ... pleasure?
The receipts dropped, yet again, forgotten to the floor about her feet
and my hand moved up further to the back of on thigh. It was warm,
soft and smooth and I enjoyed it immensely. I knew, with a certainty,
that she was mine for the taking.
I had to force myself past this barrier of hers, "I remember how hard
your nipples where Diane?" Nothing. "Do you realize how hard I got
from seeing you like that?" Another rolling shiver, good. It was
also more proof that she received pleasure from seeing my own.
A whisper that lacked any conviction, "Please... you must stop...!"
My hand had turned to the inside of her warm thigh and suddenly felt a
slick dampness. My god, that was our mingled juices leaking out to
slick up her soft thighs. The other, free, hand came up and tried to
push the skirt up so I could see her soiled thighs but to no avail.
Diane's head was down and she was looking at an single point on the
hard wood floor without moving. I thought about that look in her eyes
as I had opened her blouse earlier, so desirable so trusting... so
submissive. Like that jock's girlfriend, willing to do anything... a
slut.
Clearing my throat, mostly to gain confidence as I tested my
hypothesis, "Lift up the back of your skirt...to your waist, Diane."
I had almost called her a 'slut', but I knew it was too early to push
that blatant label upon her.
Nothing for several seconds and I started to doubt my conclusions,
until two aged, trembling hands came around and slowly and carefully
lifted her skirt. I sat back, my hand on the inside of her
thigh forgotten, as I watched her legs and then her naked ass appear
before me. Diane held it steady about her waist as I looked upon the
first naked female bottom in my short life.
My first reaction was that it did not look as good as the pictures on
the Internet, those sexy twenty-something models in lingerie with
air-brushed photos. The second one I vocalized, "You have a beautiful
ass Diane." And it was - pale white, smooth and not even a small hair
upon it. No blemishes or age marks. It was curved proudly and
abundantly, her thighs wide and soft, her calves thick. It was the
backside of an aged woman, a sexy woman and I for one found the
sight very pleasurable.
I leaned forward and softly placed a kiss upon one cheek of her ass,
the response was immediate. Diane groaned with pleasure and bent
forward slightly at the waist, this pronounced her voluptuous rear
toward me, opening it so that the crack opened to reveal a tiny pink
wrinkled ass hole.
My free hand came up and grasped a cheek and pulled it from its
brethren while my other hand renewed its fondling of those soiled soft
thighs. There was a fine sampling of dark brown hair between her
cheeks - the same hair that sprouted from beneath her anus, from her
pussy. She was clean, which I was thankful for, and her wrinkled
little anal was sticky with the same clear juices that coated the
inside of her thighs.
I studied it for a long while before I aimed a cool breath upon it -
Diane clenched her rear and groaned rather loudly. Bringing the
hand from her thighs up, I touched my index finger gently against her
anus. It was hot and very hard, wrinkled and it looked nothing like I
had expected in my fantasy - it looked better.
That finger pressed gently but firmly inward and I watched intently as
it disappeared past my nail inside Diane's rectum.
This was totally amazing to me. Here I was with a finger in the woman's ass - my neighbour for as long as I can remember. My
fantasies never included her, never thought about what I was doing
right that moment - but they should have, they will from now on!
When I reached my first knuckle, the tightness became almost painful
as it constricted my index finger. God damn - Diane would do anything
I told her, I just knew she would. "Bend over further Diane!"
She did, letting go of her skirt which sat above her backside, as it
was bundled about her waist and holding it was no longer needed when
she stooped almost to a right angle to her legs. With hands now on
her thighs, above her skirt, she panted and waited for what else I had
planned for her.
There it was, practically frothing before me. Even the abundant brown
hair, that bore not a single trace of gray, could not hide its wet
boiling crack. Her vagina, her cunt. I had already fucked it,
shagged it, poked it... and now it sat at eye level waiting with its
dripping mingled juices for whatever I wanted to do with it.
Later I would learn that no one, never, had ever spend this much time
looking at her, studying her. It turned her on something fierce - and
I would learn, in much more detail and with oft renewed proof, that
this was the path to her wild submission. It turned Diane on when she
had evidence that I was attracted toward her, at that particular
moment I only guessed at part of the truth. Who knows where Diane's
low self esteem came from or why I was the lucky guy - probably
because I had been the only one to actually show my attraction toward
her. She wanted me to be excited, turned on by her ageing and average
body - it turned her on, so much so that she was powerless toward my
attentions. On the other side of the coin, it humiliated her that she
only had her body for me, that she was not very experienced
in sexual matters. In some strange psychological soup, what came out
in the ladle was a woman who would do anything for me and who found
pleasure every moment.
Though, I would also discover much later, that there was no regret in
anything that would happen between us - she craved every second
between us. Cursed her prior life for not finding such pleasure
earlier.
My finger, not long from the binding confines of her ass hole, slipped
lower and effortlessly sunk into Diane's cunt.
It too was hot, but like liquid lava, as it sloshed into her body. I
was fascinated at how easily it seemed to accept my invasion, seeming
to flower open and suck my digit into her. "Oh god", hissed Diane. I
snickered, without taking my eyes off that invaded sloppy before
me, at the power that was flowing through me. I've read about such
women on the net, only thinking such things were games, played out by
horny people. Yet Diane seemed just like that jocks girlfriend, a
total submissive slut.
I added a second finger and Diane hissed as it entered her body - this
time I felt how snug the fit was, even with as much of our mutual
juices lubricating the invasion.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I started to move my two fingers in and out of
her body. At first I was simply experimenting, watching what it all
looked like, how it felt. Simply enjoying every second. Within
minutes, and after Diane's very positive reaction, I was fingering her
so as to experience more of her response.
I mean the slut simply loved what I was doing. The initial gasps
and sighs turned to grunts and little wordless whimpers and then to
screeching to god! I kid you not! My fingers were moving rapidly in
and out of her, making such a deliciously bawdy sound and I was
certainly not enough for the sight before me... if only
knew!
I was doing this, I was making Diane enjoy this.
Suddenly, her bent body started to twitch violently even as her
sex clenched my two fingers in a new and delicious vise. I saw that
she was about to fall, and rushed to the side to catch and then ease
her down to the cool hard wood floor. Diane lay gasping and sighing
loudly as the twitching eased away.
I learnt later that this was Diane's first orgasm with another person,
as hard to believe as it sounds. Her husband, I also learnt later,
was rather conservative, in the early years of their marriage, he
would roll on top of her in the dark of their bedroom and pound away
until he slipped off and fell asleep. In fact Diane had thought that
was what sex was about till that fateful day in her foyer - that she
was only to lay silent and let the finish and leave.
That explained our first fuck.
Mrs. Caraway opened her eyes and turned her head toward me. She woke
a few minutes after I had eased her to the floor, feeling my hand and
damp fingers fondling her generous soft ass. I didn't stop touching
her intimately even after our eyes met. It was like some wordless
communication was happening between us - that I shall touch and do
with her how I will and she would accept, and enjoy whatever I do.
Her look was filled with surprise and thankfulness. My earlier
assessment had been correct, this woman would do anything I asked.
And for a teenage boy, 'anything' was a lot. Up till that moment, the
Internet had been my teacher in all matters sexual - every kinky
fucking thing can be found, if you look hard enough, on the net - and
I felt a need to try at least a few things. I needed to discover what
I liked, after all.
"How do you feel?" I could not keep the smug grin from appearing on
my face.
Swallowing heavily before answering, "Good".
I slid my busy hand from her ass, over her naked hips and across her
covered torso to hold one harnessed breast. "I would like to see your
breasts now."
A flash of surprise crossed her brow and then a short pause before
Diane slowly sat up onto her naked ass and began to unbutton her
abused blouse. As soon as it slipped from her shoulders, it was
forgotten as she awkwardly reached behind her back with both hands
before I heard a small zipper being undone. Seeing the work involved
in removing this undergarment, my earlier assessment that it was a
hopeless task for me to attempt it, had been right. Hell, I did not
even know there was a zipper in the back!
There was no ceremony, no fanfare, nor a bawdy striptease - Diane
simply pulled the white harness from about her torso and tossed
it on the floor a few meters away. There before me were the first
naked of my life - very white and shiny smooth, with small
blue veins running through and a light brown four centimetre wide
nipple topping both mounds delightfully that pointed slightly
downward, toward the hardwood floor.
Diane watched me anxiously, nervously. I know now that she wanted me
to be pleased, to not find fault with her and loose interest... not
yet. Though these were noticeably low on her chest, and I could tell
they were not the of a twenty year lingerie model, I knew
them to be magnificent.
Slowly I eased forward and took her left nipple into my mouth and
sucked it hungrily. Diane hissed at first, in pleasure or pain I was
not sure, then slipped one of her own hands beneath her teat to hold
it up for me, the other hand gently stroked my head. Diane fed me her
breasts eagerly!
For a long while I suckled her until they were covered in
saliva and must have been raw by my aggressive pleasure. All the
while, though, I stole small looks up to the woman's face and saw
her small happy smile and closed eyes. Diane was effectively cradling
my head in her lap like some over-sized baby as I her - though
this was far from innocent. Those wide nipples had quickly tightened,
becoming hard and wrinkled, the aureole tightening and enlarging like
the pinkie finger of my hand.
As suddenly as I had leaned forward, I let go of her dripping wet
nipple and slowly sat up. would be wondering why a ten minute
chore was taking so long. And then there was Mr. Caraway, when was he
due home? Yet I could not finish this day without one more example of
my dominance, one more time to enjoy this woman who I found to be
mine, totally.
I stood up and quickly shoved my jeans down to my knees. There before
Diane was my hard thrusting proof of my desire for her and her eyes
grew large and nervous as I shuffled closer toward her.
Later I would learn that she had never been confronted in such a way
with a man's penis before. And though she understood what was about
to happen, she was not scared, only nervous at my reaction to her
ineptness. In fact, Diane wanted nothing else than to pleasure me -
to prove to me that she can be a sexy and desirable woman for my
desires.
Just before my dick hit her lips, Diane opened her mouth and leaned
forward to engulf my hard prick. I took her gray head of hair in both
hands and held her steady as I began to move my hips forward and back.
Diane closed her eyes and hard and steady, rolling her tongue
along the head of my prick and on the underside. What she lacked in
experience she made up in enthusiasm, not that I knew it at that time.
It was my first blow job, as it was also Diane's, and both of us
enjoyed it immensely. In the future, whenever time was short, Diane
would never hesitate to suck me off - claiming to enjoy the act as
well as the taste like a child who just discovered candy.
When I was sure of her acceptance in this act, I let go of her head
but kept thrusting with my hips. Diane seemed to find a natural
experience with cock and soon her head was bobbing in time to
my thrusts. I was watching it intently, enjoying the new sight of my
hard dick moving in and out of a woman's face. It was the one act,
after actually fucking, that I had spend much of my time fantasizing
about.
I lasted much longer than I had when I pumped my virginity away with
her, but the intense pleasure I found between her lips forced the
natural conclusion to advance much too rapidly toward me. Again I
grasped her head in my hands and pulled her so that my dick was
pressing against the back of her throat and my sparse pubic hair was
tickling her nose. The blasts of sperm began immediately afterwards
and I closed my eyes to enjoy. The explosions lasted for some while,
testimony of my enjoyment of this first time with a woman... this
slut.
Finally I sunk down to sit upon my heels and opened my eyes to see
Diane looking at me while her sperm covered tongue darted out to lick
the white come from the corners of her mouth. She looked like a
woman, an woman of course, that was enjoying herself.
With the loss of my hard dick, I became naturally anxious about what
was to happen next. All my bravado about Diane being a submissive
slut anxious to do whatever I asked started to seem unreal, another
fantasy for a teenager that, till that day, had nothing else. "Can we
do this again?" I was watching her intently.
Diane stopped trying to get a white glob of sperm that was now running
down to her chin and seemed to become conscious of where she was and
what she had just done. Quickly she found her blouse and held it
bundled before her, covering her chest completely. Her face became
bright and she could not meet my eyes as she whispered, "Not if
you don't want too." She paused and added, "I would understand."
Before I could tell her that I wanted nothing else but to enjoy each
other, I saw a tear appear in one of her eyes just as she rolled onto
her knees and quickly, though awkwardly, stood up and rushed from the
foyer. There was a quick flash of her naked ass before the skirt
dropped back down to her knees... and then she was gone. I was
speechless. Remember that I still thought of Diane as an adult, and
adults are supposed to know everything and be confident in themselves
and in others.
Slowly, I began to think of this day with Diane had been only a one
time thing, I fixed my clothing and then, again, retrieved the
discarded receipts. Most of which, were worst for wear.
My bewilderment and, yes even, sorrow turned to anger even as I
grasped the door handle to leave. What was wrong with that bitch
anyways? It certainly had not been rape, as I had earlier thought,
and my hypothesis about her being a submissive reminded me of all that
she had done for me. I could not have been wrong about her, about
this!
I shoved the receipts into my pocket, immediately forgotten yet again,
and strode back into the bowels of the house to find Mrs. Caraway.
Throwing the door to her bedroom wide, her husbands bedroom being down
the hallway, I saw her standing there next to her bed in a white
terrycloth robe looking startled and suddenly scared.
As I advanced Diane's hands came up and she uttered, "No", but without
conviction. I stopped just before her and we stared into each others
eyes for a pregnant minute before bringing my hands up and ripped the
robe apart.
There she was, completely naked before me, as I held the robe wide.
Openly I looked down, still enjoying the sight of her elder nude body.
For the first time I saw that Diane had a small role to her stomach,
one that had been beneath her clothing. It humoured me if
anything - she was indeed aged and even used by time and children but
she was also a woman that I had just found immense pleasure with. I
did not want it to stop simply because of a few wrinkles about her
face, the low hang of her or the small role around her middle.
Letting go of the edges of her robe, I slipped one hand down between
her thighs and moved it up to cup her hairy sloppy sex. I wanted to
tell her that she was my slut and that I would fuck her any time I
wanted - but I felt that to be redundant, this woman did not need to
be reminded of the obvious. No, what she needed was to be reminded
how I felt about her, how I desired her.
Diane gasped loudly as I slipped my two middle fingers up into her
body and began to move them slowly in and out. Her eyes were
fluttering and she was swaying but I asked calmly, "Any reason I can't
come over Saturday afternoon, say, around one?" I knew this to be
Mr. Caraway's golf time, he has been passionate about golf for as long
as I can remember. His loss that he did not feel the same about his
wife, though, of course, it was my gain.
It appeared difficult for Diane to talk but she finally managed,
behind a embarrassed smile "I would like that."
Yanking my digits from her body I pushed her robe aside and lifted a
single heavy breast, "Good!" I leaned over and kissed her nipple
which immediately began to harden, yet again.
Suddenly I stepped back, away from her body and moved toward the door
of the bedroom. I felt Diane's eyes on me the whole way. I stopped,
within the door-frame and looked behind me over my shoulder toward the
slut next door. She was standing just as I had left her, the robe
wide open, and off one shoulder, so that she was fully exposed to me -
panting. I gave her a wide reassuring smile, then slowly looked down
to her and finally to her brown bush between her legs.
My look was unhindered and unrestrained lust, Diane shivered violently
but otherwise did not move.
Turning I left without another look behind me - I would return any
time I wished.
A short while later, I caught hell with when I got home, she
assumed I had run off and met up with some friends. When I pulled the
very disorganized receipts from my pocket, some still damp with
Diane's or my sex juices, yelled at me and sent me out of the
study and her presence for the rest of the day.
Damn she was furious. I wonder what she would say if she knew what I
really had been doing?
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