Sister and the Other Mister

 Sister and the Other Mister

A daughter, a best friend, a father, lust, and love

February 1

"Hey Bestie! You know what's coming up?" Kaylee came to a sudden realization and immediately had to share.

"Oh God! What?" Hope wasn't sure what was coming, but she was eager to hear what her friend had cooked up this time.

"Only the first Valentine's Day since we were 17 that both of us are single!"

Hope laughed. "Oh my God. That's right! So...where are you taking me?"

"I'm taking you to Botticelli's. And you can take me to...this super-cute little Italian place...I think you know it...Botticelli's! How does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect, Then after, howz about we head back to my couch for a quart of Haagen Dazs and a cheesy Rom-Com we can make fun of."

"It's a date!"

The two friends laughed. Kaylee said, "We're going to have way more fun together than we would with some stupid guy, anyway."

"At least more fun with the lights on." They both laughed again.

"You know, it seems like guys come and go, but at least we always have each other."

"That's right. I'm your forever valentine. You can't dump me. I won't go." Hope smiled warmly at her friend.

Kaylee smiled back. "Like I'd ever."

Kaylee and Hope had been friends since first grade. They knew practically everything about each other's lives. They were closer than a lot of sisters. Sometimes, they even called each other sister.

Both girls were now 25. Hope and her most recent boyfriend had broken up a couple months before. Kaylee had been single for almost half a year. After college, they found jobs only about 60 miles apart, Kaylee in Advertising, Hope in Benefits Administration. Being so close, they still managed to see each other once a week or so.

On this particular afternoon they were standing in the kitchen of Kaylee's one-bedroom apartment, sharing a bottle of wine and just generally catching up and passing the time. The world always seemed a little bit easier to take when they were together. It didn't matter where they were or what they were doing.

"I'm kind of worried about my dad." Hope brought it up offhandedly after a brief lull in their conversation, but Kaylee knew it was something she needed to respond to so they could dig in.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He's been even more mopey than usual lately. He's gonna turn 50 this year and I think it's getting to him."

"Shit. If he's 50 that means we must be..."

"Old." They both laughed.

"He looks good, though, I mean for 50. Like he could pass for 45, easy. And he doesn't seem too "mopey" to me."

"He perks up whenever you're around."

"Well we've always gotten along."

"I think he loves you more than me." Hope smiled as she said it. This was something Hope had teased Kaylee about before. In fact, sometimes Kaylee said the same thing to Hope. Growing up, they each had spent so much time over at the other girl's house, that their parents came to treat each of them like one of the family.

"Maybe that's because I'm nicer to him."

"Well right now I'm about ready to revive the daughter exchange program." That was another private joke. When they were 12, the girls had actually persuaded their parents to let them trade places, and each lived at the other's house for an entire week.

"No deal. Mine's been pretty quiet lately. I don't want to ruin it."

"Ha ha. It's probably my fault, mostly. I've been pestering him again about getting out there and dating. It just bugs me that pretty much all he seems to do is go to work, come home and either watch a ball game, or fix up shit around the house. Problem is, since he and mom split, he's fixed up basically everything there is to fix. That place is perfect. Now he's moving an entire wall to create a walk-in closet. But the man only ever wears the same three pairs of pants and maybe six shirts!"

"I think it's cute. Maybe he's just trying to improve the nest to help him attract a mate."

"Well she's not gonna see it unless he actually brings someone over, which I'm pretty sure ain't anywhere close to happening."

"That's my dad too. He seems perfectly happy fixing up that old Chevy. He's finally got it running and looking pretty good, so now he's talking about getting another old beater. He's definitely not meeting any women at the wrecking yards or the swap meets."

"Also, I found out my dad's into porn."

****************************

February 14

"Hey Mr. D!"

"Hey Kaylee. What's up? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh not much. Just wanted to ask your advice about something is all."

"Sure. Why don't you c'mon in?"

"Thanks."

Brad held the screen door open and Kaylee squeezed past. She had to arch her back so her boobs wouldn't touch him when she passed through the door. He didn't create the close quarters on purpose, at least not consciously. It was just a little thoughtlessness in the moment, but as it happened, he didn't exactly regret it.

"I need some Valentine's Day advice from a more 'sophisticated' and 'worldly' man such as yourself." She laid it on a little thick. They both understood she was playing, setting the tone and keeping it light.

"Sure, Kaylee. You know you can ask me anything. But why me? Why not your dad?"

"You and I have always been able to talk. And this is the kind of thing a girl can't ask her dad. It's about s-e-x."

"Oh. I see. Wait. And you're coming to me?" Brad laughed. "I'm not sure what help I can be, but I'll try my best."

Most people would say Kaylee was an attractive girl. Brad always thought she was cute. There were a few times over the years when she'd caught his eye and he had to force himself not to stare. Kaylee knew it. Truth be told, Brad was one of the first men she'd ever caught noticing her "charms." It was kind of a thrill for her at the time. She'd teased him a little, but only a little. Brad had always kept a respectful distance, physically and otherwise.

******************************

February 1

"What?!!! Hope! What do you mean your dad's into porn? What happened?"

"I had to go over there and borrow his computer to copy some old photos he had saved on a CD and my laptop doesn't have a disc drive. They were photos of us, actually, from when we were kids. It was for the Valentine's Day present I was planning to give you. I saw that his hard drive was almost full, so I just thought I'd clean out some old junk files and free up space for him, but then I saw what it was."

"Bad?"

"Not like kiddy porn bad. Nothing like that, thank God. But still a little shocking."

"Like how shocking?"

"A few video clips he must have downloaded off of porn sites, and a lot of stills, probably screenshots. Most of them were of pretty, blue-eyed, dark-haired girls with big tits giving blowjobs and then letting the guys cum in their mouths and on their faces. I guess that's his favorite, or something."

"Oh my God, Hope. I don't know what to say."

"Yeah. I mean on the one hand I know he's a guy, and guys watch porn, and he's been alone a long time. It's not like he's doing anything illegal. But still..."

"Yeah. I can see how that's gotta be tough. For what it's worth, it wouldn't surprise me if my dad had something similar hidden somewhere. It's what guys do. We both know it."

"I know. I mean I like blowjobs. Maybe not as much as you, but you know I like blowjobs. I even like a little porn now and then, but I guess I just kind of had a little bit of an unrealistic image of my dad, is all."

"He's still a great guy, you know, secret porn-hound or no."

"Yeah, I know. I just wish he wouldn't waste it. There's so many women out there that would be great for him, women that would be happy to have a guy like him if he'd only give them a chance. He could probably even find one who's into the same stuff he is, or who'd at least play along, if that's his kink."

"Trevor liked that too, and you said you were happy to do it cuz it made him so happy, remember?"

"Yeah. I remember. Trevor! Don't remind me!" Hope shuddered.

"Sorry."

Nobody spoke for a couple of seconds, then Hope did. "I wish I could get past the taste, like you. I still don't know how you do that."

"I tried to tell ya, either take it deep and straight down your throat so you don't even taste it, or else let it gush back out all over his cock with plenty of saliva. You can't think about it too much. Just act like a complete whore for his cock and cum."

Both girls laughed. "I know. Probably I just need more practice with a guy I'm crazy about enough to blow—and one who doesn't eat so much beef. Shit. This whole dad/porn thing has got me all turned around a little too because I'm so fucking horny. Trevor was an asshole, but the sex was mostly good and I miss it. I need to get laid."

"Tell me about it. I think this is my longest dry spell since high school."

"So...I hate to say it. I really do. But I did notice and you're probably wondering. Yes, those dark haired girls with blue eyes and big tits did kind of tend to look like you."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Could be coincidence, but also probably not. Look. I know we're not in college anymore, but you did say it once. I know that was a long time ago and I'm not holding you to it, but all I'm saying is, if you do still want to fuck him, then I've changed my mind. I'm O.K. with it now."

Both girls were silent for a moment. Kaylee looked hard at Hope. Then Hope spoke again.

"We're not in school anymore. We're not virgins, not even close. I don't know if he'd even want to do it with you. Before, I would have thought, no way. He'd never go for it. But now after the porn thing I'm not so sure. He is a man, and Kaylee, let's face it, you;re fucking beautiful. He just might. And if you want it, then there's nobody I'd rather have blow my dad."

"Hope!"

"I can't believe I said that! But you know what I mean. I love you. Always and no matter what. So I know I said it would never happen. But now I've changed my mind. If you do him, maybe that will help shake things up with him and get him out of his shell and back into the game. If you want it, go for it."

Kaylee was silent. She just looked at her friend, who she loved probably more than anyone. She was thinking about all they'd been through together over all those years, about what they meant to each other. Then more and more, the love began to show in Hope's eyes, and Kaylee gave it right back. "I know that wasn't easy for you. And just that you would even say it means so much. God Hope I love you so much!" The two hugged.

"So you're going to do it?"

"God I'm so tempted! If I did, how would I do it? How could I make it happen?"

"Fuck! I don't know! How do the girls in the pornos do it? Just take off your shirt and drop to your knees!" Hope snapped at Kaylee a little, but then quickly she softened. "I'm sorry. I don't know. I can't help you plan out how to seduce my dad. I just can't. You're going to have to figure that out for yourself if this is something you really want to do."

Kaylee smiled at her lifelong best friend, and started to think.

**************************************

February 14

"Sounds to me like you better have a seat." Brad motioned to the couch in the living room just off the front entry. He sat down nearby in the overstuffed chair where he always sat, and leaned forward to listen.

Kaylee started to explain. "You see, I have this friend—no, don't worry, it's not Hope—it's this girl at work. She's in-between boyfriends right now and it's been a while, so she's getting kinda 'squirrely,' ya know? I don't need to spell that out for ya, do I?"

"No. I think I get your drift. Still not sure where I'd have anything to say about it, though."

"I'm getting there! Anyway, there's this guy at work, an older guy, about your age, and she's kinda got the hots for him."

"Huh. And the girl is younger, like you and Hope's age?"

"Yeah. So she's single. And he's single too. And basically, she's not looking for a relationship. She just likes his look and his overall vibe and she really wants to bone him."

"Jesus Kaylee!"

"Sorry. I know this is serious. I should be more serious. Anyway, she's always wondered what it would be like with an older guy, and he seems perfect, like just the kind of guy she's been fantasizing about. But he's also kind of a nice guy, like not the type to do that, but more the type who'd want a relationship, and she doesn't want that and she also doesn't want to lead him on."

"Hmmm."

"So the question is, how should she approach him to get what she wants? Is there a chance? Should she even try?"

"You said this guy is single, and he's like what, 40-something? Is he never-married? Divorced? How do you know he's not gay? Are you sure he's really single?"

"Divorced a long time ago. This other woman at work has known him for years and she says he's single and lives alone. He's quiet, kind of keeps to himself mostly, really nice, keeps in shape, but not a player at all. That's what makes it harder to approach him for something like this."

"So kind of like me, basically, and that's why you're coming to me for advice?"

"Exactly."

"Hmmmm. Of course it's hard to say without knowing the guy. There's so much I don't know. He could be religious. Divorced doesn't necessarily mean he's not gay. You haven't said if your friend has any reason to believe he might be attracted to her. She might be just not his type for all kinds of reasons."

"She's pretty sure she caught him looking at her a couple of times. They chat around the coffee maker. He always seems happy to see her, and he doesn't really react to anyone else that way. But that's about it."

"Hmmm. Well it's a good idea to never underestimate the perverted heart of any man, sometimes especially the quiet ones. And any middle-aged guy that would tell you he's not attracted to younger women is probably lying—at least to look at, that is. There are genuinely a lot of guys, I think, who don't want the drama, or the immaturity, or that would just rather have someone they could talk to. But on a purely physical basis I think men are most attracted to younger women. So she's got that going for her. That's no news flash. Plenty of older women like to look at hot young guys too."

"Oh sure. Even for my friend, it's not like she's into only old guys. It's just more of a thing she's always been curious about and then there's something special about this one guy in particular. She's not a slut. And she doesn't want to wreck anything for herself or for him at work or otherwise. She just wants a little casual, no consequences vacation in the bone zone with this guy."

"You make it sound so simple. It was certainly different in my day, at least for me anyway."

"I know it's not quite like that. But you know what I mean. Do you think it's possible? If so, how can she make it happen?"

"Possible? Of course. Anything is possible. It's probably better as a fantasy though. Real life is messy. There's always a chance things might go wrong, maybe even badly wrong. Still, the most likely outcome is things would only go a little wrong and it'd all just be disappointing for both of them. So it's definitely a risk, a bit of a longshot bet. Your friend has got to decide if she's willing to take that risk, if it's worth it."

"Oh she's willing. She likes adventure. No risk, no reward, right? Plus she's more than just a little bit horny. That's part of it too."

"Well...I'd say that almost no matter how she does this, for sure the older guy is going to be flattered. And if he has any class at all, if the answer is no, he'll likely try to let her down easy."

"So what's the best way?"

"I think the best way is straightforward. Just tell the guy what she has in mind, and ask him if he's interested. Make her terms and conditions clear. Most guys don't like to play games. Maybe you were thinking of some elaborate plan or strategy to maneuver or manipulate him into making the first move, or thinking it was his idea, or something like that."

"Well...kind of..."

"That's too complicated. There are so many ways a complicated plan could go wrong. Just try simple, direct, honest, and sincere. Your friend will get her answer, and it'll be cleaner that way. Then everyone can move on to what's next. Either dive in or get past it."

"So just go up to him and ask if he wants to fuck, no strings attached?"

"She can be a little more subtle than that, but essentially, yes."

"I think she'd want to be a little bit classier than that, at least."

"I'm sorry. Of course she would. Look, all she'll have to do is basically tell him she likes him and thinks he's attractive. She doesn't have a boyfriend. She doesn't want a relationship, but she would be very interested in a sort of 'friends with benefits' situation and ask if that's something he might be interested in too. He might want to think it over. He might not want to just go for it right away. She should encourage him to think it over. Because the more he thinks it over, if he's like most guys, and he's already attracted to her, as you say, then the hornier he'll get."

Kaylee thought for a moment. "Yes. Simple and direct. I like it. I think she could probably do that. That's what I'll tell her. If I put it like that, I think she'll take my advice." Kaylee stood. "Thanks Mr. D! I still want to get your ideas on a few more details. But first, can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure, Kaylee. You know where it is."

Kaylee went off to the bathroom, while Brad thought more about the situation she'd been describing. It definitely struck him as "unusual," to say the least, that she'd come to him for advice about something like this. Nevertheless, he had given his honest opinion, as she had no doubt known he would. Still, it felt a lot like there was more. There was something different about her today. He couldn't stop his mind from racing to some very dirty and exciting places, even though he was trying not to let himself go there. He felt himself getting hard. Could it be...?

When Kaylee came back, she'd let her hair down. The top three buttons on her blouse were unbuttoned, and the red lace at the top of her Valentine's Day bra was clearly visible. She was barefoot. Her demeanor had noticeably changed. She was softer, smiling, and sultry as she walked deliberately toward the big overstuffed chair where Brad was sitting.

"Hey Mr. D, did you think any more about my situation?"

"A little." Brad was noticing the change in her.

"Did you guess that I don't really have a friend who needs advice?"

"I wondered. But I wasn't sure."

"Everything I said was mostly true, except the girl is me, and the guy I've got my eye on...is you." She paused to let it sink in. "So what do you think?" Then she remembered Brad's advice. "Take your time. Think it over." Kaylee smiled.

Silence hung heavy in the room while they looked at each other. Kaylee took a deep breath and tried to let lust show through her face, her body, her eyes. Brad tried to let his mind wander through the door that had just been opened. It had been so long since he had been with anyone. But she was so lovely, beautiful really. Her lips looked delicious. He felt her allure working its magic as he took her in. Of course he had fantasized, but never in his wildest dreams did he think...

Kaylee saw the way he was looking at her and a thrill shot through her. She could see that Brad was on the hook. The thing to do now was reel him in. Kaylee looked straight into his eyes and willed her mouth to form the words filled with her power, deliberate, unmistakable. "Would you like to fuck me?" She paused, then added, "Help a girl out on Valentine's Day?"

Read More

Glamour

 'I had an amazing time last night.'

'Me too,' I reply. That's fair, I think. The three used condoms in my bathroom bin can vouch for that. Still, it's now the morning after, and I'm looking forward to a Saturday to myself as I walk the girl down the stairs of my building and across the foyer.

'So, when can I see you again?' she asks.

'Well, you know I have this thing to do, so it will be a couple of weeks, I guess. I'll call you when I get back. We can pick up where we left off last night.'

Her face lights up, and I feel a momentary pang of guilt for what will probably turn out to be a lie. We had a nice night, but at 23 she's almost exactly a decade younger than me, and I'm not sure that we have the same sort of future relationship in mind. I can tell that she's already mentally picking out wallpaper for our new home together, while I'm just wondering what positions I might fuck her in if we meet up again.

We stop by the mailboxes and kiss goodbye. There's a woman with her back to us, going through her post; I don't recognise her so guess that she's the new tenant in the penthouse, directly above my apartment. The building's been awash with chatter about her, although no-one seems to have any solid information to share.

'I'll miss you,' the girl says, waiting a couple of heartbeats for the sentiment to be returned. When it's not forthcoming, she turns and skips from the building and out into the early October sunlight.

'So that's who was making all the racket last night,' I hear someone say, and it takes me a moment to realise that it's the woman checking her mail. She turns to face me, and I instantly recognise her from somewhere, although from where exactly I can't tell. She's lovely, whoever she is; a little older than me, perhaps in her late thirties? Thick blonde hair falls in loose curls around her shoulders. Her clothes are the very definition of "smart-casual"; a dark blazer over a white t-shirt, tight blue jeans, and a pair of bright red high heels. The V-necked collar of the t-shirt dips low enough to give a fantastic view of her impressive cleavage.

I hear a gentle cough and force myself to look up at her face. An eyebrow is raised sardonically but she's clearly used to the attention; I can already tell that this is a woman who has made the most of her beauty for her entire life. I look past her at the name on the mailbox she's now closing up - "Caroline Raymond". Again, there's something just below the surface of my memory struggling to announce itself.

'I figured you were either torturing her or she was having the time of her life. I didn't know whether to call the police or just ask if I could watch.'

'Well, no-one knocked at my door, so I guess you decided against both of those ideas.'

She smiles. 'Mmm. I came up with a third option.'

The woman walks past me, leaving a tantalizing wave of expensive perfume in the air behind her. Turning, she motions towards the stairs. 'Going my way?' she asks.

I nod and fall into step beside her.

'You're in the penthouse?'

'That's right. I've moved my business into new offices, and I wanted to be closer to them,' she replies.

'Oh? What do you do?'

'I'm an agent.'

An image of my new neighbour dressed like a cartoon spy flashes through my mind; the long black leather trenchcoat, thigh-length boots, trilby pulled down across one eye, and not much else. The seductive smile and a smoking pistol.

'You?' she asks, before my imagination can get carried away with itself.

'Office work. Nothing that I could explain in less than half an hour,' I reply. It's true; I have one of those 21st century jobs that are almost impossible to describe to someone outside of my own organisation. I find it's best not to try.

We arrive on my landing, and I'm suddenly conscious that my apartment is probably not fit for polite company after last night's activities. The sheets are certainly in need of a wash. Oh well, in for a penny...

'Would you like to come in for a coffee?' I ask.

She laughs. It's a good laugh, bright and friendly.

'No thanks. I'm sure you have some laundry you need to attend to.'

Dammit.

She winks and is gone, her high heels click-clacking on the marble stairs.

----

It's a few days later when I see her again. I'm travelling home from work on the Tube -- there's a small branch of the Northern Line that ends at Battersea Power Station, just a couple of minutes from my flat. Generally, I tend to zone out when I'm on the Tube -- there are only so many advertisements that are worth paying any attention to, and my journey is too short for me to bother taking something more substantial to read. As the train leaves the penultimate station before terminating at my stop, I happen to look down the carriage and spot Caroline seated no more than half a dozen metres from me.

It's worth saying again quite how stunning she is. Seriously, she's gorgeous, and as I try not to stare at her, it's clear to me that I'm not the only person in the carriage on whom she's made an impression. Some guy, I'm guessing in his fifties -- all beer belly and greasy hair, wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt that's seen better days - is holding onto one of the straps that dangle from the ceiling. The motion of the train causes him to sway, and he's making the most of the opportunity to encroach on Caroline's personal space. It's pretty gross, and I'm about to get up and say something, when I see Caroline fix him with a look that could have made the Thames freeze over. I almost feel sorry for the guy as he mumbles an apology and shuffles further down the train.

Caroline returns her attention to the newspaper she's reading -- it's a broadsheet, not one of the free newspapers. I toy with the idea of approaching her, but something -- maybe the thought of becoming the object of another of her stares -- stops me.

The train pulls into my stop, and I step off and make my way along the platform and onto the escalator taking me up to street level. About halfway up, I hear someone give a polite cough behind me.

'I thought you might have come and said hello once you'd noticed me.'

I turn and look down at the step below me. There's Caroline; breathtakingly beautiful up close. Where do I know her from?

'I thought about it, but you seemed kind of busy. You know, between your newspaper and Bruce Dickinson back there,' I reply.

She cocks her head to one side in confusion, then laughs.

'Ah, Iron Maiden t-shirt? Barely gave him a thought.'

'I have to say, that was pretty impressive -- how you sent him packing without saying a word,' I continue.

She sighs. 'I've had plenty of practice, Nick.'

Umm?

'How did you know my name?'

She gives me a mysterious look. 'I have my ways.'

Of course. 'You read the name on my mailbox.'

'See?' she laughs. 'I told you I have my ways.'

We reach the top of the escalator, and together clear the ticket barriers and walk out into the street. I wonder if she would be happy to walk with me the rest of the way to our building, and am about to say something when I realise that she's no longer beside me. I turn and see her a couple of paces behind, looking at a bar a little way down the road on the other side of the street, and clearly trying to make up her mind about something.

'Are you ok?' I ask.

She looks to me, and I can plainly see a hesitancy -- a nervousness -- that's completely out of place on her beautiful face.

'Have a drink with me?' she asks, motioning to the bar.

'Sure. Sounds good,' I reply, resisting the urge to punch the air in celebration.

----

It's a nice bar; probably a former bank or something. I've been in here a couple of times before, although I tend to do most of my drinking with my colleagues after work in pubs and bars near to our office. We order drinks at the bar -- a pint of IPA for me and a Diet Coke with a straw for her -- and look for somewhere to sit.

'Will this do?' Caroline asks, pointing at a small table tucked right out of the way at the back of the room. For the briefest moment I find myself wondering if she's ashamed to be seen with me or something, before realising that her choice of table is probably more to do with not wanting any more Iron Maiden fans making an appearance. I'm a little embarrassed, but just nod and motion for her to lead the way.

There's a little awkwardness for the first couple of minutes, but I guess that's to be expected. After all, we're almost complete strangers and at this point we know of nothing that we have in common other than the fact that we live in the same building.

'Have you lived here long?' Caroline asks.

'A couple of years. I was living in a houseshare near Clapham Common, but then my parents died. Only child. Sole beneficiary. It made sense to buy, and I like Battersea.'

'I'm sorry,' she says. 'About your family.'

'Oh, thanks.' That's it, idiot, I tell myself; keep it light. 'What about you? You said you moved to be closer to your work?'

'Mmm,' she nods. She takes a quick sip through the straw of her Diet Coke, and I am entirely jealous of that straw. 'That's right. We moved to new offices near Borough Market a few months ago.'

'Someone's doing well for themselves,' I joke. 'Offices in an up-and-coming area, penthouse apartment in Battersea.'

'Ah yes, the penthouse,' she sighs, happily. 'Living the dream.'

It's time to take a risk, I think. 'That's a big place for just one person.'

She flashes me a smile -- a smile I'm sure I know from somewhere. 'Oh, and what makes you think I'm on my own?' she asks.

'Just a guess.' Come on, Nick, go for it. 'Maybe I'm just being hopeful.'

Our eyes meet, and she holds my stare for a few heartbeats.

'You don't think that I might be a little old for you?' she finally asks.

'What? You're only a few years ahead of me. Half a dozen at the most.' It sounds like I'm being gentlemanly, but I'm pretty certain that she's no older than 38 or so.

'Let's see,' she replies. 'You're... 32? 33?'

'33. Nicely done.'

'Thank you. And "half a dozen" years on top of that would make me 39. You think that's right?'

Oh god, I think, please tell me that I haven't suggested that she's older than she actually is.

'At the absolute most,' I insist.

Caroline shakes her head, and takes another sip of her drink. Is she blushing?

'Not even close, sweetie,' she says. 'The desperately sad fact of it is that I won't see the first half of my forties again.'

What?!

'Fuck off!' I say, certainly more loudly and more assertively than I intended. An elderly couple enjoying a post-shopping coffee at the table across from us look at me disapprovingly.

'I was forty-six in February.'

I try to ignore the elderly couple and lean forward. 'No way!' I whisper.

'I can show you my driver's license, or my cellulite, if you like.'

I'm too stunned to speak. Instead, I search her face for any sign that she's the age that she says. There's none.

'So, I'll repeat the question,' she continues. 'You don't think that I might be a little old for you?'

----

We finish our drinks and walk home together. We're not saying much, but that's mostly because we both have plenty to think about, I guess. Don't ask me what I said in response to Caroline's question; it was soppy and embarrassing and entirely complimentary. Suffice it to say that I left her in no doubt that the difference in our ages meant absolutely nothing to me.

Now we're once more on the staircase outside my apartment.

'Would you like to join me for dinner on Friday evening? My place. Seven thirty?'

Fuck, yes!

'Let me think. Yeah, I can do that; sounds great. I'll see you then, Caroline.'

She pauses. 'The last person to call me Caroline was my dear-departed Nana. Everybody calls me Carrie.'

And then my memory finally kicks into gear.

----

There was a time, not all that long ago, when it was common for certain British tabloid newspapers to feature a half-naked woman just inside their front cover. These "Page 3 Girls" were nothing short of an institution. Household names. Some of them went on to have careers in acting or music, or married rich and famous men sometimes twice their age. The actor Greg Kinnear married one. So did Jeff Beck, the musician. The women were sometimes extremely pretty girl-next-door types, but more often than not they were out and out gorgeous. They invariably had magnificent bodies. And for many men, certainly in the era before the internet, these were the first naked women they ever saw.

Carrie Raymond was one of these women, and I don't mind admitting that she formed the basis of many of my earliest teenage fantasies. That was twenty years ago. A few minutes ago, she invited me to have dinner with her in her apartment. Not tonight, or tomorrow night. Friday night. One of the two nights in the week when you don't have to worry about getting out of bed to go to work the next morning. That means something, doesn't it?

These next two days will be the longest of my entire fucking life.

----

Clutching a bottle of mid-priced Sauvignon Blanc, I knock on the door of the penthouse at seven thirty sharp. My palms are sweating.

Carrie answers the door after a few moments and I'm immediately put at ease. She's wearing dark blue, loose-fitting trousers and a cream-coloured blouse. Her blonde hair is tied back in a pony-tail and her beautiful face is only very slightly made-up. The overall effect is that she looks great -- fabulous even -- but certainly not like she's out to seduce anyone. I smile awkwardly and accept the invitation to enter.

It's the first time I've stepped foot in the penthouse of my building, and I can immediately see that it's worth every penny of the eye-watering amount she must have paid for it. The open-plan living and dining area alone is probably bigger than my entire apartment, and a large sliding glass door opens out onto a balcony overlooking Battersea Park. Already, the place looks more homely - only a couple of weeks after Carrie has moved in - than my place looks after more than three years.

'Make yourself at home,' Carrie calls through from the kitchen. As I take a seat on one of two immense couches, she re-emerges with a pair of glasses and a bottle of wine which I have no doubt costs considerably more than the one I brought with me. She pours the wine and we drink. I'm itching to have a look around; it's not every day you find yourself in the home of a former glamour model.

Carrie smiles kindly. 'If you're looking for photos of me from my earlier career, I don't tend to leave those out on display. Especially not when I have guests,' she laughs.

I blush once more.

'I have to say that I didn't recognise you until you told me not to call you Caroline,' I admit.

'I'm much older now,' she says, without bitterness.

'No, not at all,' I protest. 'It's just that I...'

I pause, realising the full horror of what I was about to say.

'Had only ever seen me before with my tits out?' she finishes for me. She takes a seat next to me on the couch, crossing her legs towards me. Her arm rests along the back of the couch, almost behind me. Again, I catch the intoxicating aroma of her perfume.

'You were my favourite,' I tell her.

'Yeah yeah. I bet you say that to all the former topless models.'

'True. Some day one of them might even fall for it.'

'Maybe tonight,' she murmurs. 'The night is young.'

I'm getting an erection. There's no delicate way of saying it.

'Your agency,' I say, desperately trying to avoid making a fool of myself. 'It's for models?'

Carrie takes a sip of her wine. 'Uh-huh. There's less demand for glamour photography these days, and girls are less inclined towards proper modelling anyway. They all figure that they would do better with an Only Fans account. But there's still a need for catalogue modelling, or fashion. The girls still need looking after, and I can do that. I retired from modelling pretty early, but I know the business as well as anybody. The days of sitting in a draughty studio, in front of some half-arsed plastic plants and with a stuffed lion next to you, peeling off a cavegirl costume for the tabloids, are looooong gone.'

'I remember that cavegirl outfit. You looked stunning. There was a caption with it -- some awful pun like "we'd be lion if we said Carrie wasn't the hottest thing in the jungle".

'Oh my god. That's word for word! Fuck, tell me I haven't invited my stalker home for a drink!' she laughs.

'Like I said, you were my favourite,' I say, more than a touch bashfully.

'Ah, that's sweet,' she coos. Her left hand reaches over and rests on my knee; even something as innocent as this feels more sexually-charged than I could have ever thought possible.

'It must have been an exciting job,' I say. 'I guess you got to meet plenty of famous people. And not many people get to have a career that can be considered quite so sexy.'

Carrie scoffs. 'You think it was sexy for me, in the studio? Trying to make myself as desirable as possible, knowing that on the off-chance that I did get turned on, I'd have very few outlets for it?'

I can't believe the direction this conversation is going in. 'Very few?'

'Well, the reputable photographers were usually women or gay or married. If I got worked up, my only hope was to get myself back into the changing room as quickly as possible and take care of things myself.'

I suppress a groan. She knows what she's doing to me, and I can't help but feel that it's going to get worse.

'Do you like the idea of that? Me, alone in my changing room, all turned on and no-one to help me?'

'Uh-huh.'

'Weren't you wondering what that third option was that I chose when I could hear you fucking that silly young woman last week?'

Her hand has moved on from my knee and is now stroking the inside of my thigh. A few inches higher and she'll discover for herself quite how much I like the idea of the image she's describing.

'What about you?' she murmurs. 'Did you wank yourself off over my pictures?' She says it softly, almost shyly, and I realise with a start that both of us feels out of their depth. It hasn't occurred to me until now that this gorgeous woman might need some reassurance; that she might be nervous about making a fool of herself in front of a younger man.

I nod. 'And if I had owned pictures of you then, just as you are right now, I undoubtedly still would.'

The words are barely out of my mouth before Carrie's on me, her lips pressed against mine. We both fumble to find somewhere to place our wineglasses, then our hands are on each other. I cup her beautiful face and kiss her again and again, while she places her hands against my chest before swinging her leg over and sitting astride my lap. Her new position has her above me, and I tip my chin back and pull her face down against mine. I can taste the wine on her lips, and her perfume fills my nostrils. Carrie tips her neck back and I push my face into the soft skin of her neck, peppering her with kisses.

'Oh god yes,' she whispers, taking hold of the back of my head and dragging it forward into her cleavage. She's starting to grind herself against me. I can feel her need; the warmth and pressure of her body against me is provoking a stiffening in my trousers that she can't possibly have failed to notice.

Her skin is so soft. As Carrie holds me against her chest, it's like I'm being smothered by a satin sheet and I can't get enough of it. My lips press against her again and again, more and more and more and more until I need to break away to take a breath.

She looks down at me, my chin in her hands. I feel like she's reading me, testing my unspoken intentions, and I pray that she finds me worthy. Then she pushes herself away from me and stands up. I reach out to her, I need more, but she smiles as she steps back away from the couch.

Read More

A Little Extra Sauce

 Kyle was busy in Victoria's room on Monday morning, bashing his hard cock into the slut's tight ass while he groped her big soft tits. Victoria screamed and bucked back at him, Kyle groaning as he watched her ass squeezing his thick shaft.

"Oh fuck!" he yelled, spurting his huge load into her.

"Holy shit..." she then panted, feeling as his cum filled her stuffed her asshole. He pulled out and she sucked him clean, fucking his dick again with her tits until he came hard on her rack and face.

"Shit, I'm gonna be late," Victoria said as she stood, globs of Kyle's jizz still running down her thigh.

Kyle laughed. "Don't worry. Mary will understand. I had to go and fuck that slut of a principal enough times when I was in school."

Victoria laughed and rolled her eyes, rushing into the bathroom to take a shower. He stood and returned to his own room, finding Emily there, fast asleep with cum flooding from her pussy and asshole, having been gangbanged the previous night into the early morning.

He got above her and slid into her ass, his slut of a wife moaning as he fucked her, harder and harder until she was fully awake and fucking him back.

"Oooh yeah!" she cried, "give me all that fucking dick!"

"Take it bitch!" Kyle yelled, "open that juicy ass!"

He slapped it, Emily crying out in pleasure as they fucked until the sun rose, both of them well fucked out.

******

Once Kyle had gone to film a movie, Emily had the house to herself. Everyone was either at school or various hookups around the city. After taking a hot shower, she lounged around for a while, watching several extremely X-rated videos on the big screen, cumming hard on her dildo as she watched Marie get railed by several big black dicks.

After she recovered, she felt hungry and went to make something to eat. Living in a house which was predominantly male and where fucking nonstop was the main goal in life, no one had been shopping recently so a quick sandwich wasn't an option. Shrugging, she got some pasta and set it to boil, getting some ground beef and tomato sauce and began work on her famous spaghetti.

Cooking naked was her favorite thing to do as most often her husband or someone else would be drawn in by the aromas and couldn't resist but to shove their dick into her ass and fuck her as she cooked for them. The oil cracked and sometimes popped onto her tits which, though it would've made most women grab something to put on, turned Emily on, her pussy getting wet as she yelped as the heat danced across her perfect rack.

Once her water boiling, she added the pasta and stirred it slowly on a low heat. The aroma made her mouth water. Just as she about to prepare some garlic bread, she heard a knock at the door. It was barely noon and Kyle wouldn't have been home this early. Wiping her hands, she went to the door and opened it, coming face to face with an understandably shocked teenage boy.

"Hello," she said with a bright smile.

He didn't respond, his mouth wide open as his eyes were glued to her magnificent tits. He finally realized what he was doing as drool dropped from his chin, making Emily giggle.

"Umm... hi," he said in his pubescent voice, "I'm Christian. Our family is uh... moving in down the street. And my mom um... wow..."

Emily laughed again and nodded. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Christian."

She extended her arm and he hesitantly shook her hand, his eyes watching as her tits bounced slowly up and down.

"Well, I'm cooking right now. Come on in."

Christian gulped and entered, following her into the massive kitchen which more than rivaled their own.

"It's always fun to meet to new neighbors," she said, her back to him as he sat at the table eating a warm cookie. He ate it absentmindedly however as his focus was now locked on her ass and wet pussy, his dick swelling in his jeans. As long as she didn't ask him to stand up...

"Christian, would you come and taste this? I mean I seasoned it to my own taste but I could use a fresh young tongue. You know what I mean?"

Christian felt his mouth go dry but he approached, trying some of the beef. It was hot but tender, seasoned to perfection.

"It's incredible!" he said, loving the flavor.

"Perfect!!" Emily cheered, doing a little bounce, feeling Christian's eyes on her body. "The meat has always been my absolute favorite part..."

He felt his dick twitch, a small breath escaping his lips. Emily grabbed the tomato sauce and tried to open it, the lid screwed on tight.

"Christian, could I borrow your muscles?"

Christian, a computer nerd was renowned for almost anything besides athletics. But he decided to try to help his new neighbor.

His new... beautiful, sexy, nudist neighbor...

He grabbed the bottle and turned, but the lid didn't budge. He kept trying, finally twisting it hard and the bottle lurched, shooting the sauce onto Emily's tits, painting her beautiful rack in red tomato chunks.

"I am so sorry!" Christian stammered, Emily looking down at the mess and starting to laugh.

"It's fine," she shrugged, chuckling softly, "mistakes happen."

He nodded and couldn't help but laugh himself.

"Care to lick some off?" she asked, a mischievous grin on her face.

"I... I couldn't... I mean, I couldn't possibly..." Christian stammered.

Emily giggled and got closer. "I won't tell if you won't."

He nodded and smiled, lapping his tongue through her sauced cleavage. Her aroma and taste made his dick even harder, swelling as it rubbed against her thigh through his pants. As he cleaned as much as he could, he tried to back away but Emily grabbed his arm.

"You can't be too comfortable in those..." she said seductively, suddenly yanking his pants and underwear in a single swoop, his throbbing dick hard and firm. He practically yelped as she took hold of it, stroking it slowly.

"Mmm..." he began to moan, this being the first time a woman had handled his cock.

"Such a nice and hard cock..." she said softly, her hand slowly stroking it from root to tip, "so big on such a small boy... You are 18, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"Oh good," she chuckled lightly, "I forgot to check."

He smiled nervously, Emily using her other hand to rub his chest beneath his shirt before leaning in to kiss him tenderly, Christian's hands suddenly finding her soft juggs, squeezing them softly.

Emily moaned, Christian kissing her back as she continued to slowly pump his dick, his precum oozing out onto her hand.

He moved down to suck and lick her nipples, now squeezing both in his hands as he alternated between each, sucking them both.

Emily moaned softly, continuing to stroke his dick as she caressed his large balls, practically straining under the weight of jizz in them.

They kissed again before he decided to taste her, moving down to sample her delicious pussy next. Emily moaned loudly, running her slender fingers through his hair as he lapped and slurped at her wet cunt.

"Oooh, my my you have a skilled tongue..." she moaned.

He continued to lavish her sweet wet pussy with his tongue, Emily gripping his hair tightly in her fist as he discovered her clit, attacking it with a lustful fury.

Emily let out a yelp as an orgasm rushed through her. She shuddered as she came, Christian seeming to actually be shocked as she came hard into his mouth, her flavor immaculate as she released her juices.

He then stood up again, returning to her tits, licking and sucking her stiff nipples yet again as she jacked him off. They met in a deep kiss, their tongues probing each other's mouths before she lowered herself down.

"You're such a good boy, Christian." she whispered, "how about a nice reward?"

He nodded eagerly, Emily smiling up at him as she took hold of his dick once more. It was thick, about 6.5 inches long and glistening with precum. She gave it a lick, a warm tingle shooting through Christian's body, Emily fondling his balls.

Her sexy pink lips then passed over the head of his dick, enclosing it in her hot and wet mouth. She sucked him lovingly, Christian moaning and holding her head as he experienced his first ever blowjob.

"Oh my god..." he groaned, Emily looking up at him as she nastily sucked him off.

He gripped the marble countertop as he was in heaven, watching the sexy MILF go to town on his rock hard cock, playing with his heavy balls as she slobbered and slurped on his shaft.

"Fuck..." he moaned loudly, Emily taking his cock now between her big soft tits. Christian thought he'd melt to the floor as she began to glide them up and down along his slick member.

He watched in awe as his head rapidly went in and out of sight. It was by far the absolute best experience he'd ever had, like his cock was being shrouded by two clouds.

She soon pulled his cock back up and attacked it, slurping on the head with passion. She sucked him down further and further, Christian unable to tear his eyes away.

He began to thrust into her mouth, watching in shock as she took it like a champ, the dick sliding down her throat but she swallowed every inch, loving the flavor of the virgin boy meat.

"Mmm..." she moaned as she released him, continuing to stroke him, "You like that?"

"I fucking love it..." he moaned, Emily smiling and putting him back in her mouth.

Christian watched as she deep throated him, his dick disappearing down her throat as she moaned and gagged a little. She pulled off and took a deep breath before doing it again, her throat muscles working hard to suck him off.

Christian felt his knees wobble and knew he was close, his balls tightening. He pulled out and she looked at him with those piercing green eyes, her face covered in cum and tomato sauce.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm about to cum!" he exclaimed.

Emily smirked and took his cock in her hand, stroking it again. "Where would you like to cum, Christian?"

He looked around, unsure. "Wherever you want me to," he said, his voice shaking.

Emily leaned back on the counter, her legs spread wide open. "How about on these?" she asked, pointing to her tits.

Christian nodded frantically, jerking his dick in her direction. Emily leaned in and took the head in her mouth again, her hand moving up and down his shaft as he stroked himself off.

He felt his orgasm approaching, his hand moving faster. She pulled off and began to stroke him, her eyes locked onto his. "Cum on me, baby. Cum all over my big MILF tits!"

Christian's cock exploded, sending ropes of white cum flying onto her chest and face. She licked her lips and leaned in to kiss him, sharing the taste of his cum.

He pulled back, breathless and amazed at what had just happened. Emily took his hand and led him to the kitchen table, her tits bouncing with every step. She sat him down and began to clean up, her hand gently wiping the cum from his chin and onto her tongue.

"You taste good, Christian. So fresh and young," she said with a giggle.

He watched her, his dick still hard and his mind racing with what he had just experienced. Emily went to the sink and washed her hands before returning to him.

"Thank you for helping with the sauce," she said, sitting on his lap, her wet pussy pressing against his thigh.

Christian's dick was still pulsing, and she noticed. "Would you like to fuck me now?" she asked.

He nodded, his heart racing. She turned around and bent over the table, her ass in the air. "Take me from behind, baby. Take me like a man!"

He positioned himself and slammed into her, Emily's wet cunt wrapping around his thick cock. She was tight and warm, her moans filling the room as he pounded her.

Her big tits bounced with every thrust, and he reached around to squeeze them, her nails digging into the wooden table as she felt herself climbing to another orgasm.

Christian's thrusts grew faster and more erratic as he felt his second orgasm approaching. "I'm going to cum again!" he warned.

"Cum inside me, baby!" she begged, her voice thick with lust. "I want to feel your hot cum filling me up!"

He didn't hold back, letting go and filling her pussy with his seed. She screamed in pleasure, her own orgasm crashing through her body like a wave.

They collapsed onto the table, panting and sweaty, the kitchen a mess of sauce and cum. "Well, that was unexpected," Emily said with a laugh. "But welcome to the neighborhood, Christian!"

Christian couldn't believe what had just happened. He had lost his virginity to the hottest MILF in the world, and she was his neighbor. He was definitely going to enjoy living here.

The smell of the burnt sauce brought them both back to reality. "Oh no, I forgot the pasta!" Emily exclaimed.

They both laughed and cleaned up the kitchen, their newfound bond only growing stronger as they worked together, their bodies still humming with pleasure from their spontaneous encounter.

They decided to make a new batch, this time with less distraction, but both knew that their secret rendezvous would be far from the last. The day had started out mundane, but ended with an explosion of passion that neither of them would ever forget.

Christian soon returned home, bringing a small casserole dish of spaghetti for his family. He just couldn't wait until he was able to return it.

Read More

Cougar on the Corner

 Victoria stepped out of the Chevy Suburban and smiled one last time at Dante, a hung black drug dealer and ex-con who had rented her out for the night so he and his buddies could celebrate his court victory. Dante was a major pusher and favored client of Kyle who had pulled some strings and had his case thrown out.

"Don't forget to bring that juicy ass around for my next kickback." he said with a gold-toothed grin.

"You know it baby," Victoria said, wiggling it before he laughed and drove off.

She leaned against the cold brick wall and lit a cigarette, waiting on her next customer. She looked sexy in her tight black dress stopping just beneath her huge ass.

She smiled as saw a car pull up and she walked up to the driver side door and smiled seeing a young man, his eyes eager and innocent.

"Oooh a young pup..." she said upon seeing him.

He grinned nervously, his eyes glancing into her massive cleavage. She followed his eyes and smiled at him.

"Looking for some fun?" she asked.

He nodded quickly and smiled as she rubbed the bulge in his jeans and he groaned.

"So... what's your name?"

"Mmm... Q-Quentin..."

"That's a nice name," she said continuing to feel on him as she enjoyed his discomfort, "do you have a girlfriend, Quentin?"

"N-no..." he stammered, "I had one but she was tired of me wanting to wait until my 18th birthday to lose my virginity."

"Oh you poor thing," she said sweetly, "come here."

SUMMARY^1: Victoria exits a Chevy Suburban after a night with Dante, a wealthy client. She prepares for her next customer, a young and inexperienced Quentin. She teases him, noticing his nervousness and his attraction to her 34G tits.

Before he realized it, Quentin found his face in Victoria's cleavage, inhaling the vanilla scented tits as she undid his jeans and fished out his cock, stroking it.

After a few moments, she released his face, Quentin panted as she continued to stroke him.

"So what are you looking to do with his big dick of yours?"

"Umm... well, one of my friends was telling me about uhh... Crystal."

"Crystal?!" Victoria laughed, "she's barely able to give a decent handjob. And she definitely doesn't have tits like this..."

She grabbed Quentin's hand and put them on them, a gasp escaping his lips as squeezed them, Victoria giggling as dick swelled in her hand.

"Damn they're incredible," he said nervously.

"You can get to experience these babies and a lot more..." Victoria said seductively as she slowly released his dick, "but it's not free."

Quinton groaned at feeling the loss of her hand and nodded, grabbing an envelope stuffed with cash and handing it to her.

Victoria counted it and smiled. "Looks perfect."

Quinton smiled, Victoria walking around and getting in on the passenger side.

"Well lets get out of here," she said, "I know a nice hotel up the street where I can take that dick to heaven."

"Okay," he said with a nervous smile as he pulled from the parking lot. He tried to focus on the drive, struggling to resist her tits bouncing as they drove down the night street.

SUMMARY^1: Quentin nervously interacts with Victoria's large breasts. She mocks his inexperience and sets the price for her services. He hands over an envelope of cash and they drive to a nearby hotel for the encounter.

Fuck, they were so soft and smooth that he couldn't wait to get his hands on them again, to suck on them and feel those melons wrapped around his cock.

Victoria slyly cast her eyes at Quentin. He was sweating and tense, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. She had to ease him a little.

She reached over and placed her hand on his swollen cock, still exposed and throbbing. Quentin moaned as he gripped the steering wheel.

She began stroking him, just watching the boy squirm in his seat as he accelerated onto a side street headed for the hotel.

Victoria took in the extravagant building as he pulled to the front, a valet rushing out to take the car.

"Fancy place," Victoria said to Quinton as they made their way inside.

"Yeah I know," he said with a slight shrug, "my dad got this place too. He said once I lost my virginity it shouldn't be in some rathole."

"Can't say I disagree," Victoria laughed, the two going to the checkin desk before Quentin acquired the room key and they got on the elevator.

The doors shut and she immediately turned to him, pressing him into the wall and kissing him, her tongue invading his mouth as she grabbed his cock again.

Quentin felt a mix of shock and pleasure, his hands instinctively going to her ass, feeling the soft flesh beneath her dress.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, they stumbled out and into the room, Victoria pulling him onto the bed. She sat herself at the edge, her legs spread wide, his cock standing tall and proud.

Quentin and Victoria arrive at the hotel, and she begins to tease him in the car. Inside the hotel, she strokes his cock in the elevator, then pulls him into the room and sits on the bed with her legs wide apart, ready for the intense sexual training she plans to give him.

"You want to fuck me don't you?" she said, stroking it lightly, watching as precum leaked from the tip.

Quentin nodded, his eyes glazed over with lust.

"Say it," she demanded, her voice taking on a firm tone that was a stark contrast to her sweet demeanor from earlier.

"Yes, I want to fuck you so badly," he said, his voice shaking slightly.

Victoria smirked and leaned in, taking his cock into her mouth and swallowing it whole. Quentin's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt the warm wetness of her mouth, her tongue wrapping around his shaft as she deepthroated him.

Her throat muscles contracted around his dick, the pressure was intense and he knew he wouldn't last long. She pulled back, smacking her lips and wiping her mouth. "You're a quick one, aren't you?" she chuckled.

"N-no, I swear," he protested, his voice hoarse with arousal.

"Don't worry, I'll teach you to last longer than five seconds. Now, get those pants off and lie down," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Quentin obeyed, his cock bobbing as he climbed onto the bed. Victoria stood, peeling her dress off, revealing her naked body in all its glory. His eyes widened as he took in her massive, firm tits and the small bush of brown hair between her legs.

"You've never seen a real woman before, have you?" she teased, stroking her clit. "Let's get that cock in me before I get bored, shall we?"

Quentin nodded eagerly, his cock pulsing with desire. Victoria climbed on top of him, lowering herself onto his shaft, inch by inch. He groaned as he felt himself fill her up, her pussy stretching around him like a glove.

Her cunt was tight, and she was wet, so wet that it was making sloppy noises as she began to ride him. He watched in amazement as her tits bounced and her ass jiggled with every bounce.

"Fuck me like you mean it, boy!" she growled, slapping his cheeks with her tits.

Quentin's hands shot up to her hips, pushing her down harder onto him. She threw her head back and moaned, her pussy spasming around his cock.

Her nails dug into his skin as she began to grind, her hips moving in a circular motion that had him seeing stars. He could feel the tension building in his balls, the pressure becoming unbearable and he began to groan softly.

"Not yet, not yet, you need to last longer than this. We've got all night, baby," she whispered into his ear, her breath hot and heavy.

Quentin tried to focus on anything but the intense pleasure, but it was no use. Victoria was a sexual beast, a creature of desire that knew exactly how to manipulate his body to give her what she wanted.

As she rode him harder, she began to talk dirty, whispering vile things into his ear that had him blushing, but also made him want to fuck her even more. She called herself a whore, a slut, a dirty cunt that needed to be filled with cum.

The words were like a symphony to his cock, and he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"You're going to fill me up with that hot, sticky cum, aren't you?" she hissed.

Quentin nodded, unable to speak as she leaned down and kissed him hard, her tongue invading his mouth once again. He felt her pussy tighten around him and knew she was close too.

With a final grunt, he released his load deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her. She moaned into his mouth, her body shaking with the intensity of her own orgasm.

They broke apart, both panting heavily, their eyes locked as she slid off of him, his cum dripping out of her and onto the bed.

"Good boy," she said, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Now, let's see how much of a man you really are. Can you keep up with me?"

Quentin looked at her with determination, his cock already beginning to harden again. This was just the beginning of a night that would forever change him.

Victoria licked her lips, tasting his cum on them, and then she straddled his face, pushing her wet, swollen pussy onto his mouth.

"Eat me out, boy," she ordered, "and don't you dare stop until I'm satisfied."

Quentin took a deep breath and tentatively stuck out his tongue, licking her slit. She tasted like a mix of sweetness and musk, a flavor that was both intoxicating and a little overwhelming for his inexperienced palate.

But Victoria was relentless. She began to grind her pussy against his face, smearing her juices all over his nose and mouth, forcing him to inhale her scent deeply. He could feel her thick, meaty folds against his tongue as he started to explore, his hands instinctively grabbing her hips to keep her in place.

Her moans grew louder as he found the right rhythm, his tongue circling her clit and dipping into her depths. She was so wet, so hot, and her pussy clenched around his nose as she rode his face. He could feel the tension in her thighs as she approached climax, and it only spurred him on.

"That's it," she cooed, "just like that."

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing him deeper. He didn't know if he was doing it right, but he didn't care. All he knew was that he was making this woman, this goddess of depravity, feel good, and that was all that mattered.

With a final, guttural groan, Victoria's body went rigid, and she came, her juices flooding his mouth and dribbling down his chin. He swallowed greedily, not wanting to miss a drop, as she collapsed onto the bed beside him, panting.

"You're a fast learner," she said with a wink. "But we're not done yet. There's so much more I need to teach you."

He watched as Victoria grabbed her purse and then she rolled him over onto his stomach and began to kiss her way down his spine, her teeth nipping at his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. He moaned, his cock now fully erect again, and he felt her hands spread his ass cheeks apart.

"You're going to learn how to take it like a champ," she murmured, her voice thick with lust.

And with that, she started to lick his asshole, her tongue probing and teasing him in a way that had him squirming with both pleasure and a hint of fear. He had never felt anything like this before, but he was eager to please, eager to learn from his new, depraved mentor.

Her tongue grew more insistent, and Quentin felt his body respond, his ass pushing back against her face, begging for more. Victoria chuckled, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through him.

"You're going to love this," she whispered, her hand reaching down to stroke his cock, keeping him on edge as she continued to lick and kiss his ass.

And then, without warning, she slammed a finger into him, and he yelped, his body tensing.

"Relax," she ordered, "you're going to need to get used to this if you want to be a real man."

Quentin took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, feeling her finger slide in and out of him with ease. She added another, then another, stretching him out, preparing him for what was to come.

As she worked him over, her other hand stroked his cock, keeping him right at the precipice of orgasm without letting him fall over the edge. It was a delicious form of torture, one that had him writhing and begging for more.

"Please, Victoria," he panted, his voice muffled by the pillow beneath him, "please fuck me."

With a wicked laugh, she sat up and straddled his back, her wet pussy pressing against his asshole. He suddenly felt the tip of her strap-on nudging him, and a shiver of anticipation ran through him.

"You want this, don't you?" she asked, pushing the tip in slightly.

"Yes," he gasped, his voice shaking with desire. "I need it."

With a firm push, Victoria buried the strap-on into him, filling him up in one swift motion. Quentin's eyes rolled back in his head as he moaned, the sensation unlike anything he had ever felt before.

It was tight, and it hurt, but it also felt incredible. He could feel every inch of her as she began to ride him, her hips smacking against his ass cheeks as she picked up speed.

"You're going to be my little bitch tonight," she murmured, her voice dark and seductive. "And you're going to love every minute of it."

Quentin nodded, his body moving in sync with hers as she fucked him harder and faster. He could feel his cock rubbing against the bed, the friction adding to the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside of him.

Her hand found its way to his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp for air as she fucked him mercilessly. The pressure was intense, but it only served to make him harder, his body responding to her every whim.

Victoria leaned down, her breasts smothering his back as she whispered dirty things into his ear. She talked about how much she enjoyed his tight little ass, how much she wanted to use him, to make him her own personal fuck toy.

And as she talked, he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body begging for release.

"You can cum," she said suddenly, her voice a sharp command that cut through the haze of pleasure. "But only if you can make me cum first."

With renewed vigor, Quentin bucked his hips back, meeting her thrusts with his own, desperately trying to push her over the edge. He could feel her pussy getting wetter, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and knew he was close.

But then, she pulled out, leaving him empty and desperate for more. She flipped him over onto his back, her strap-on still glistening with lube, and climbed back onto the bed.

"You want to cum?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with lust. "Then you're going to have to work for it."

With that, she straddled his chest, her clit over his mouth. "Suck it," she demanded, her voice like a whip crack.

Quentin didn't hesitate, wrapping his lips around the hard nub and sucking with all his might. She tasted faintly of latex and lube, but mostly of sex, and it was intoxicating.

Victoria leaned back, her hands on the headboard, her tits bouncing with every bounce of her hips as she fucked his face. He could feel himself getting closer, his cock begging for release, but he knew better than to touch it without her permission.

Her moans grew louder, her movements more erratic, and then, with a scream that echoed through the hotel room, she came, her juices spurting all over his face.

"Swallow," she ordered, pulling out of his mouth, and he eagerly did so, feeling her warm cum slide down his throat.

Victoria climbed off of him, her legs still shaking, and looked down at him with a mix of satisfaction and hunger.

"Now," she said, a wicked smile playing on her lips, "it's your turn."

With that, she straddled his cock once again, sinking down onto him until he was balls deep inside her. Her pussy was tight around him, squeezing him in a vice-like grip, and he knew that he wasn't going to last long.

But he didn't have to. As she began to ride him, her massive tits bouncing and smacking him in the face, Quentin felt something snap inside of him. He grabbed her hips and began to thrust upwards, meeting her with every downward movement.

The feeling of her tight cunt around his cock was driving him wild. He had never felt anything like this before, and it was all he could do to keep from cumming right then and there.

"That's it," Victoria growled, her voice deep with lust. "Fuck me like you own me."

And fuck her he did. Quentin's inexperience didn't matter in the face of his raw, primal need. He pounded into her with a ferocity that surprised even him, his hips moving in a blur as he tried to fill her completely.

Her tits smacked his face with every thrust, and he couldn't help but bite and suck on them, his teeth grazing her nipples until they were red and swollen. She threw her head back and screamed, her nails digging into his chest as she rode him like a wild animal in heat.

"Harder," she panted, her eyes glazed over with lust. "I want to feel you in my throat."

Quentin obliged, his hips moving faster and harder, his cock slamming into her with every thrust. The bed squeaked and rocked, the headboard banging against the wall in a rhythmic beat that matched their moans and grunts.

Her cunt was so tight, so wet, and so warm that he could feel every inch of her as he fucked her. Her pussy was like a glove, made to fit him perfectly, and he knew that he was going to cum soon.

"Fuck, you're getting so good," she moaned, leaning down to kiss him, her mouth hot and wet, "I'm going to cum again."

And with that, she did. Her body tensed up, her pussy clamping down on his cock as she came, her juices spilling out around him. He felt her spasm and quiver, her orgasm milking his cock, and it was all he could take.

With a roar, Quentin came, his cum spurting into her in hot, thick ropes. She sat up, her pussy still clamped down on his cock, her breasts heaving with the effort of her climax, and he watched as his seed filled her up.

For a moment, they stayed like that, panting and sweaty, their bodies slick with sex. Then Victoria slid off of him, his cum dripping from her pussy onto the bed. She looked down at him with a smile that was both proud and hungry.

"You're a natural," she said, her voice a purr, "but we're not done yet."

With that, she grabbed a bottle of lube and a small butt plug from her bag. "It's time for your next lesson," she said, her eyes gleaming.

Quentin's cock twitched at the sight of the toy, his body already craving more. He knew that this was going to be a night he would never forget, a night that would redefine what he thought was possible.

Victoria smeared the lube onto the plug and pushed it into his ass, her fingers working it in and out until he was begging for more. Then, with a wicked grin, she straddled his face again, her pussy hovering just above his mouth.

"Lick me clean," she demanded, "and don't you dare stop until I'm satisfied."

Quentin didn't need to be told twice. He eagerly lapped at her pussy, tasting the mix of their juices as he cleaned her up. She moaned and squirmed above him, her hands gripping the bedpost tightly.

He had never felt more alive, more like a man than he did in that moment, with Victoria's pussy in his mouth and his cock still throbbing from the intense fucking she had given him. He was hers, completely and utterly, and he loved every second of it.

As she climbed off of him again, he felt the plug pop out of his ass, and he whimpered at the sudden emptiness. But Victoria was already onto the next act, her hand wrapping around his cock and pumping it back to life.

"Look at that," she said, a wicked smile playing on her lips, "you're already ready for round two. I knew you had it in you."

Quentin could only nod, his body already craving the intense pleasure that she had shown him. He watched as she lubed up the plug again, her eyes never leaving his as she pushed it back in, filling him once more.

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