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Forbidden: phtlc & lowblow emma

The way she looks at me, it's almost like she's mocking me, like she thinks I'm lying? Why would I lie?. She stares into my eyes, looking as though trying to analyse me. I'm not sure what she's thinking but she does not let go of my erection, instead holding on and looking at me intently. I actually find the moment a bit intimidating, not sure what to expect from her. While she maintains the closeness, keeping her arm around me so I may not pull away, she keeps her face close to mine. As she does this, I try to relax and bring myself back from the brink.


When she speaks she talks about a person's "first time". First time? Surely she doesn't think we are about to have......sex?. Saying that word in my head causes the reality of this situation to hit like a train. I'm crossing some very serious lines with this woman. This is real!.


I open my mouth to say something, and at that second her grip tightens on my flesh and instead of words I just gasp audibly, my whole body jerking from the sensation. My mouth gapes wide open as I try to catch my breath from the sensation. Before I can recover, she starts slowly moving it up and down, causing such pleasurable sensations to course through my body. My whole body tenses as I struggle for control.


As her lips close in on mine again her hand starts moving faster, as she talks about "plunging ahead" while I gasp, as her thumb glides over the head with only some thin material between them. For the briefest second, I imagine her hand grasping me bare without the shorts in the way, and immediately I feel the orgasm coming back again and urgently.

Breaking the kiss, I reach for her hand, wanting to push it away.
Mrs Thorpe....wait...we have to stop....I'm about to...." I can't even say the words!!! "I'm going to.....you know.." as I fumble, wanting to remove her hand from me.
 
I remember when I first felt like Bill does now. The guys I’d been with before had all been concerned to get their rocks off as soon as they could. But this one - do you know, I can’t remember his name – he took me right to the brink and then backed off, let me cool down before building me up slowly again. and again. It seemed to last all night. When it was over, I lay totally exhausted. It had been torture, but exquisite.

That’s how Bill is feeling now, having that experience of being taken to the very edge. He’s eager to cum, but desperate to make it last. I can see it in his face, hear it in his voice, feel it in the tension in his cock.

I smile and ease off, slightly, slowly the rhythm now, releasing the pressure gradually. Power surges through me as I feel the control I have over him. without realising it, I release his neck and run my free hand over my body, pressing hard on my hips, rubbing my belly, pushing my tits up and squeezing my nipples. My breathing increases. My chest is flushing. My tongue is stroking across my lips. I am conscious of every inch of my skin, every contact with my clothing or Bill’s body. My crotch is aching, but I deliberately don’t touch myself there.

Taking Bill to the edge, I’ve taken myself there. Only my own self-control is keeping my hand away from my crotch. If he were to touch me there, I would be lost. But he doesn’t. He has an instinctive understanding of how to manipulate me, without even touching me.

My hand finally stops massaging his cock. I smile at him.

‘Bill, I understand how you feel. It’s these shorts that are too restricting for you. You’ll be more comfortable if you take them off. Let me help you.’

My hands go the waistband and begin unfastening him.
 
She slows down a bit but still continues to rub me, and at the same time rubs her chest, stroking her breasts and squeezing them in a manner I had never expected to see a woman doing at this stage in my life.

When her hand finally lets go of my erection, I feel a surge of relief go through me as I manage to refrain from climaxing at the last second. I don't think she realized just how close I was to going over the edge.
Sure it did feel good physically but I was simply not ready for that. I liked her, and had to admit that it was great for my ego that a pretty woman like that wanted to touch me like that, but fantasy and reality are two separate things, and the reality of what she was doing was just too much too fast.

My relief was short lived though as she started to undo my shorts. this is way too real.....way too fast!I thought, fearfully.

"Mrs Thorpe.....maybe we shouldn't be doing this...please" I say weakly, yet don't have the courage to actually physically resist as she continues to undo my shorts.
 
I told him I understood and I do. I’ve made my husband squirm from wanting to cum but always being held just back from the brink. But Bill’s finding it much more difficult. At his age, he’s not yet got the self-restraint that maturity and experience will bring. I don’t buy this ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’ crap. He just means that he’s terrified of exploding too soon and embarrassing himself. Well, there’s no chance of that. Not only am I a lot older, I’ve got plenty of experience at controlling men.

The best way to help him is to get these shorts off. The buttons were straightforward, but I need to be careful with the zip. I pull the material away from his cock so that there is no pressure as I slide it down and peel the flies open. I’m not looking down, just maintaining eye contact, proceeding cautiously by feel, and one thing I can feel is the dampness. I roll the material away from his cock and use both hands to prise his shorts over his buttocks and down below his balls to his thighs. Still I haven’t looked down. My eyes are holding his, trying to read his thoughts.

The way he talks, he’s one of those insecure guys who’s afraid of being compared and found wanting. But he doesn’t come across like that to me. He’s probably secretly proud of what he’s stacking in those shorts. I can just imagine him standing in front of a mirror viewing himself from all angles as he wanks away thinking of how he’s going to torment his latest victim or remembering how she writhed beneath him as he pumped her. He probably can’t wait to stand up and let those shorts fall away to reveal his manhood in all its glory.

I’ve got an idea of his dimensions from holding him, but I resist looking, leaving him uncertain of my reaction. But it’s unfair to torment him for too long.

‘Bill,’ I say, ‘I’m sure that’s much more comfortable for you already. Why don’t you stand up and let me get those shorts off you properly?’
 
Her response is gentle yet firm; she's going forward with this whether I'm ready or not. She maintains an uncomfortably intimate eye contact, while explaining to me about how she understands what I'm going through. How could she possibly understand what I'm going through? I frightened; sure physically excited but I've never done anything like this in my life.

Then she continues to undo my shorts, determinedly pulling them down over my hips, sliding them under my buttocks as she exposes my nakedness to the cool air of the basement, as her eyes remain locked on mine. There's just no turning this lady off I muse in amazement. It was like she disregarded all my concerns and just went ahead as though she hadn't even heard me ask her not to.

She actually has the audacity to ask me to stand up and assist her in taking the shorts off. Of course it might be easier to get them back up if I stand. nervously, I stand myself up, and in doing so the shorts start to fall to the floor, but I react quickly and just catch the waistband with my fingers. Then I start to try to pull them up.
 
This is too much. He’s teased me, tormented me, flaunted his cock at me, and now he wants to hide it away. I’ve had enough. Taken more than I can. I want him to touch me. Not in that caressing way he’s been using, all soft hands and massage, all warm breath and gentle pressure of his lips. That’s all very well. All very nice, for a start, but there comes a point when I can’t take any more.

My husband would know I’ve reached that point, ages ago. He’d torment me a bit more, before he’d move on, show me the power of his arms as he holds me down, show me the power of his thighs as they force mine apart and thrust his cock into me.

If I were with him, I’d show him how I was feeling. Ripping off my clothes and tossing them away, rubbing myself, squeezing my tits, pinching my nipples, forcing my hands down my belly to claw at my crotch. He’d be on the verge too by then, as desperate as I am, rubbing his cock, waving it at me, showing me the sperm dangling off the tip. And so it would go on, and on, until one of us could take it no more and would beg, beg for it to finish.

But how can I beg Bill? He’s so much younger than me. It would be humiliating to admit that he’s got me into this state so quickly. And so my desperation comes out in irritation. I grab the waistband of his shorts, wrench them from his grasp and push them to the floor. Then I snap:

‘Bill, no, this has gone on long enough. Will you please stop playing around, tormenting me and coming on the innocent? We both know perfectly well what you’ve been doing all along. You hardly let your parents drive off before you started pretending not to notice me, then pressing against me in your room, letting your fingers drift down to my buttocks as you massaged me, peeking up my skirt, sneaking to see my tits when my bra was off, touching me, breathing in my ear and down my breasts, kissing my neck. This is too much. I’m older than you and I’m entitled to more respect.’

Now for the first time I allow myself to look down at his cock.
 
Before I can pull them up she snatches them and drops them to the floor, leaving me standing there fully exposed, which causes me to blush crimson red. The look she gets on her face is intimidating, as is her body language as she seems to lose her temper a tiny bit with me.
She begins a lengthy trade at me, pointing out angrily how I had apparently been leading her on

Leading her on? I thought How? I was just trying to be nice. I felt terrible, and confused as everything I had done had been at her request, and I just wanted to be polite. I certainly didn't mean to lead anyone on.

Grabbing your butt? Looking up your dress? I was shaking my head at this, wanting her to please believe that I had done no such thing and that I just wanted to be nice, which was the truth.
Then she drops the hammer " I’m older than you and I’m entitled to more respect".

I'm supposed to just submit? Let her touch me, however she wants because she's older? Does being entitled to respect mean she's entitled to unbridled access to my body?.

Swallowing, I stare silently, afraid to speak up, not wanting to anger her further.

When she realizes I've given up resisting, she looks down blatantly at my erection. I wish I could just disappear right now I think in my shame and humiliation as she looks at my nakedness almost like a predator sizing up a meal, while I stand there meekly.
 
Can you believe the arrogance? He’s just standing there, waggling his cock in my face. Typical male. They all think they’re God’s gift and hung like a horse. Well, actually he’s neither. It’s OK size-wise, although not as long or thick as my husband’s. A bit on the thin side for me, but he’s proud of it, obviously.

Why doesn’t he say anything? He’s just let me rant on, pouring out my feelings and yet he doesn’t respond. I’ve just got as close as he’s going to get to an invitation to move in and finish me off. Can’t he see how fucking close I am, how much I need him to reach out and touch me? What do I have to do, strip off and spread my legs for him? He’ll be wanting me to help him mount up as well probably.

I bunch my fists together, thrust them into my crotch and grip tightly with my thighs, rubbing myself as he should be rubbing me, grinding my pussy with my knuckles as he should be.

My chest is tight. I’d be able to breath more easily if I loosened my bra, but that would mean taking off my dress. Does he actually expect me to undress myself? I cross my legs and hook my feet around my ankles, pulling my fists tighter into my crotch.

‘Bill,’ I hint, ‘I’m getting rather hot, would you mind unzipping my dress for me?’
 
For some reason, she seems to get angrier despite my submission. I don't get this. I've been nothing but polite to her, yet here she is glaring at me like I'm acting rude.

What am I doing wrong? I wonder.

As she stands there looking at me in frustration, she suddenly starts rubbing her own crotch, masturbating herself through the material of her dress and panties as I stand there in shock.

Of course this causes me to get even more aroused as my erection strains so hard I swear it will tear through its own skin as it twitches and fluid builds up at the tip.

Part of me is shocked at this blatant act of depravity, yet at the same time my body screams with excitement at seeing this woman grinding away at her own crotch. And then she asks if I would mind undressing her.

Would I mind undressing you? Well, kind of....I'm feeling a bit vulnerable here. But I know she's not asking. She's telling.
"Ok Mrs Thorpe" I say, my voice quivering with nervousness and despair.

As she is still on the couch, I carefully kneel and reach around her neck, and undo the clasp of her dress. Then taking the zipper in my hand I slowly slide it down, the sound of it exciting me as I try to control myself until it is all the way undone. Upon completing the task, I sit beside her, and place my hands in my lap in a way that partially covers me as I shiver nervously and blush.
 
If only I could get inside his mind, I might then have a chance to understand what he is thinking. He just stares at me, his eyes drifting down to my hands as they grind into my pussy. Surely he can see my desperation, sense the frustration that is making me tremble and my breath come in gasps. He’s feasting on my anguish. His cock is actually getting stiffer as he watches; I can actually see it growing and pushing more upright. It will soon be flat against his belly.

And when he eventually moves, it is again with apparent hesitation and reluctance. He stares at me for a while, pretending that he doesn’t understand what I am saying or asking him to do. Then, when he finally acts, he slides the zip down teasingly slowly. I can hear it pass each notch on its way to my waist. And, of course, he doesn’t miss the chance to touch my flesh along the way. Intermittent strokes as he approaches my bra, then a pause as if he is wondering whether to unfasten that as well, before moving on, his hand brushing against the vertebrae.

And then he stops. Does he think that this will make me cooler, just to have a draught down my back. He doesn’t even slip the dress over my shoulder. Which leaves me no better off than before. But at least he sits down now. He’s no longer standing waving that cock in my face, enticing me forward. What did he expected me to do? Was he waiting for me to throw my clothes off for him or was he waiting for me to drop on my knees and gobble his cock?

I turn towards him and he’s sitting trying to cover his cock, or at least pretending to, because he isn’t succeeding. A thought begins to nudge at the back of my mind. Suppose I’ve got this wrong. What if it isn’t an act? Could he really just be innocent and inexperienced? How the hell would I get out of that? But no, no, that can’t be, he’s showing too much control of himself and mastery of me for that. I’ve met the odd virgin in my time, not many I grant you, but in my teens I came across some, and they all tried to pretend to be more experienced than they really were. I always tried to come over as a woman of experience, even when I’d only done it a couple of times. But he’s just the opposite. Casual, almost nonchalant. No, he’s behaving just the opposite of what would be normal for a virgin.

Anyway, I couldn’t be that wrong. I’d know; my brain would sense it. My body would know too; it wouldn’t respond to him like this. And respond it is. I can feel the dampness in my panties as I press them against me. No virgin would have this effect on a woman of my age and, let’s be honest about this, experience. How could he have learnt it? Did his mother teach him? She certainly had plenty of experience to draw on, a lot more than me. She visited the dressing room for our team before one match and one of the guys told me later that every single one of them had got a hard on by the time she left. They had to delay going out in order to calm themselves down.

I can take it no longer. I stand up in a rush and shrug the dress off my shoulders and down over my hips. As it lands around my ankles, I kick it away and turn on Bill. I’ve had enough. With my hands on my hips, I confront him, standing there in just my underwear.

‘Bill, it’s time we stopped playing games. You know what you’re doing and so do I. It’s time to stop this, right now.’
 
I try to think how I can explain this to her, how I can make her understand. I am genuinely afraid of what she is initiating. Sure I feel arousal, and my body wants to engage in this act with her yet I feel hesitation due to my inexperience. I just want to slow down.

She's gorgeous, and in a few years with a little more experience I might even want to do this but I'm just not sure I'm ready yet. The swollen erection shamefully sticking out tortures me with the knowledge of what my body and base instincts want, yet my upbringing says no.

I don't want to upset her and I want her to like me, it's just that this is moving way too fast for me.

But she loses all patience, and stands, stripping off everything but her underwear and accuses me of playing some game.

"Mrs. Thorpe....I swear, I'm not doing anything here...I'm just ...I'm just trying not to upset you. I swear! Please believe me." I say.

"Look, I'm sorry if I'm nervous, it's just that I've never done anything like this before" I say. blushing crimson at that admission. "Please...try to understand".

I look at her, not wanting her to be upset, willing to do what she want if it will please her.

"I'm...I mean I think I like this it' just that ....I've never even kissed a girl" My face glows crimson red at that admission.

"I'm just a bit nervous...please can we just maybe take it slow?" I ask, looking at her pleadingly.

"I just want you to like me"
 
So, this is his game. Pretend to be innocent and get me to teach him. it can be quite effect with women of a certain age, or so I’ve heard. They like to take a virgin under their wing all protective like and pluck his cherry. I’ve heard women bragging about it, but usually ones a lot older than me, the mother-figure sort who don’t pose a threat at an impressionable age.

Well, OK, why not. I don’t mind a bit of role play if that is what he likes. I’ll go along with his little game, let him think I’m not onto him. Come over all teacher like, gently guiding him, but to my advantage of course.

‘Well, Bill,’ I say as I settle down next to him on the sofa, ‘it’s obvious to me that you are in full working order, so you’re not going to have any trouble on that score.’ I take hold of his cock. ‘And let me tell you one of the most important things to remember. getting hard like this when you are with a woman is the biggest compliment you can pay her. We pretend sometimes to be offended, but that’s just a front, a pretence. We actually enjoy the power that we have to cause this sort of reaction in a virile young man.’

His cock twitched, but I released it.

‘The next thing to remember is that your role is to give the woman pleasure. It’s a mutual thing of course; we’re not selfish. It’s just that it takes us longer to respond, so you need to work on us. It’s like getting to the next level of a computer game. You have to work harder, but it’s more satisfying in the end.’

I hope I hit the right note with that computer game analogy. He plays on his computer, so maybe he understands. My guess he understands already, because he’s been taking me through the next levels at a cracking rate.

‘So let’s make a start, Bill. Most men like breasts. So why don’t you feel mine, See how they feel in your hands and then take my bra off gently, letting them fall out. Get used to their feel, how heavy they are, how I respond to your touch.’

After being tormented for so long, I’m certainly going to respond, but I mustn’t let him see how much of an effect he has had so far. I need to keep myself under control for as long as I can.
 
Smiling she sits beside me, moving in close after having spent a few moments contemplating my response. I couldn't tell exactly what was going on behind those eyes, because she almost seemed to be looking at me as though she didn't quite believe me.

Suddenly the most pleasurable sensation rips through my body as her soft hand grabs my hardness, causing me to gasp almost as though in pain as my whole body jerks in response to the exquisite pleasure of feeling a woman touching me down there, skin on skin. As good as it felt when she felt me through my shorts it did not compare to this.
At that moment, despite my shame and humiliation, al I could think of was her body, her smell, her touch and the feel of her hand on my naked flesh, torturing me with pleasure I would never have imagined possible. The sight of so much exposed skin, only her bra and panties now on had my mind going crazy with a desire to see what was under those.

I felt myself starting to twitch as I felt an orgasm approaching and at that exact moment she released me, just at the last microsecond. If she had waited any longer, something very embarrassing and messy would have happened.

She starts going on about me giving her pleasure and relating to some sort of points reward system like in a videogame. Somehow her words, left me feeling powerless in her clutches, my body's needs starting to overpower my sense of right and wrong.

Touch her breasts?

I knew this was so wrong, and that taking off her bra would increase the likelihood of this going too far, but somehow a switch had been thrown as the semi naked woman sat beside me, talking about me touching her breasts. I had never even kissed a girl, much less see or touched breasts. My friend Greg insisted that he had touched a girls breasts once but we knew he was lying since he claims he met her when he was at summer camp.

I don't know why I did what I did next, but my hands tentatively reached out, trembling nervously as I tried to control my breathing and I felt around the back of her bra. Having never actually removed a bra before in my life, I actually found it to be a more complex procedure than I would have expected, but eventually my efforts were rewarded and the bra fell away, revealing a pair of breasts one would not expect from someone her age.

Oh my god...they're beautiful.

I was afraid to touch them, terrified that if I crossed that line, I might lose all my resolve and do something I couldn't reverse.

I really shouldn't do this

Part of me wanted to get up and run out of the room, to spell it out for her but the sight of those soft, well round mounds seemed to cause a switch to be thrown.

My hands started to move towards them, and I paused at the last second, looking at her as if to ask if she was sure that this was OK.
 
Bill just can’t give up teasing and tormenting me. He fumbles around with my bra like he’s never undone one before. Why do all guys have that problem? Is it genetic or something. Women are from Venus and Guys can’t cope with Bras. Anyway eventually he masters the basic idea of unfastening a simple hook. And the, just when the average guy would dive straight in, hands groping, sucking and slobbering like he’s suckling at his mother’s tit, what does Bill do? Nothing, that’s way, sweet nothing.

He just looks at my tits. Admires them and makes like he’s going to reach out and touch them, but then draws back. Bastard. Can’t he see that I’m going mad here waiting for that first touch. His first intimate skin to skin contact with one of my most erogenous zones. Tweaking my nipples or massaging my breasts will have me purring, kneeling at his feet and gobbling that cock down my throat. My thighs are clamped together. Squeezing hard. My hands are itching to get down there and get that little guy our his boat and give it an airing and some serious rubbing. My breath is coming faster, I’m fidgeting, I’ve held his cock in my hand, which lots of guys I know would pay good money for, but not Bill. He’s just waiting.

I’m getting irritable. It’s building up. I’ve already snapped at him once, but that didn’t have any lasting effect. he likes me, he wants me, he’s desperate for him. you only have to look at that cock throbbing and swaying to tell you what’s he feeling. And yet he just stands there. What is he wants? Does he want me to throw him back onto the sofa and just mount up, like a cowboy jumping onto his stallion outside the salon in the old wild west. My legs astride him, thighs stretched wide across his bucking hips and I bet you they’d be bucking when his cock got a sight of my pussy all wet and glistening, waiting for him to get in there and start pumping.

But all he’s doing is groping me with his eyes, massaging my tits with his gaze, lapping at my nipples with the flick of his tongue across his lips, twisting them with his fingers that clench and unclench as he stares at me.

Can’t he read body language? Doesn’t he see that my body is crying out for him to touch, just a quick touch, a passing stroke of a finger tip brushing by. I’m not asking much. He doesn’t have to grab my ass, or rip off my panties, grab my ass, finger me, fist me, fuck me. I can wait for that, there’s no hurry, what’s another minute or two. But please, please do something before I scream.
 
I want to touch he, but I'm afraid. Afraid of where she'll want this to go, afraid of the fact that this is wrong, afraid I might like it. Her body screams out to me, tortures me, like a tantalizing dessert you know you shouldn't eat yet can't resist devouring. I struggle, wanting nothing more than to touch her, yet I feel restraint.

What would my mother think?

Yet I still want to touch her. It's shameful, I hate myself for wanting to, but I find it so inviting, her tender orbs, so well formed, so soft yet without any sag. I've never seen this in my life.

I so desperately want to ask her to back off, to tell her that I'd rather we just cuddled, yet, at the same time, she has me trembling with excitement, wanting to engage in the very sinful carnal behaviour the church warned me about.

My instincts say yes, yet I think of my morals, and what my mother would think if she saw this.

yet Mrs Thorpe looks at me with such commanding authority, that I don't dare disappoint her. Combined with the fact that I am already trembling with excitement at the thought of what I am about to do, I can't help myself.

Reaching a little further, I make contact! Oh my god, the feeling of them was incredible! breasts! A woman's breasts! I'm touching the breasts of a beautiful woman! I suddenly realize I'm not breathing and I have to gasp some air in as I feel the soft warm orbs beneath my hand.

Looking her in the eye, I await instructions, lost in the moment, willing to give myself to her.
 
At last, at long last, he finally reaches out and touches me, flesh on flesh, skin against skin, body in contact with body. The suddenness of it makes me sigh with relief. At the same moment and for the same reason, he lets out a gasp. My breath is coming faster. He must see my chest rising and falling; he must feel through my breasts how I am responding to his touch. With his skill at manipulating me, he’s managed to hold off so long that his first gentle touch was going to make me want to mount him or pull him on top of me. But I’m too mature to fall for that. I fight to maintain my composure, determined not to let him know the full effect he is having on me.

My legs are quaking. My clit is tingling in anticipation. My hands keep drifting down there, eager to bring myself some relief, but I fight to pull them back, knowing that I would explode at just a touch. I divert my hands to rub my hips, but they wander again, so I stroke my belly, but that invites them to drift down, so I rub my thighs. I must do something with them, so I reach out to Bill.

I’ve not touched him much, although I have held his cock. I leave that well alone. It’s throbbing and waving and oozing. There’s no doubt about how he’s feeling right now. And he has to last, no way can I let him blow off and leave me like this.

I put my arms under his and touch his chest, just rest my hands there, letting him feel their warmth, pressing gently against him. Not enough to push him away, just enough to make him notice. Then I dig in my nails and drag them down his chest, scratching at his nipples on each stroke. Feeling them stiffen. Sensing his response to the pain. Keeping my eyes on his to see him flinch. Wondering if he’ll see this as a challenge and see how I respond. Or will he carry on with his own devious plans and not allow me to gain any control?
 
Touching the soft orbs, I struggle to keep my breathing under control as she writhes under my touch. In my entire life I've never experienced anything even 1% as erotic as this. I'd never even kissed a girl before today and now I have Mrs. Thorpe gyrating and moaning as I feel her breasts. I still struggle with shame of course as this is eerily inappropriate, despite the fact that my body is trembling with excitement.

To add to my torment she starts rubbing herself excitedly, first her hips, then her thighs. It's almost like a scene from an x rated movie and I'm the star. Sitting here naked next to this sensuous woman has every nerve ending in my body on fire as I struggle to maintain some semblance of self control.

I want to look down at her thatch of pubic hair, as she sits with her legs still together next to me, while I massage her breasts yet I refrain from doing so.

We shouldn't be doing this!!! I keep repeating to myself.
When she reaches out to touch me, I feel an electric jolt as her hands slowly apply pressure to my chest. When she starts applying her nails, I don't know how to respond.

Is she trying to hurt me?

It hurts a bit, but not too much, so I remain transfixed, not sure what to do next as I continue massaging the tender breasts.
 
There comes a moment in every seduction – and there is no doubt in my mind that this is what is going on here – a full blown seduction by an expert – well, like I was saying, there comes a moment when I feel it right that we should both be on equal terms. Each exposed to the other. Of course, there’s a lot of fun to be had while both parties are still fully clothed, and even while one is naked, but there has to come a moment when each is fully exposed to the other. When we are both, as it were, so that each can see the other, roam wherever they want, with fingers, tongue, lips, teeth. Each is totally open to the other.

So far Bill has been the only one to expose himself fully to me. that’s unusual. The seducer usually remains fully clothed, while skilfully removing the victim’s protection layer by layer. Not so with Bill. Which is just a mark of his skill and experience. He’s been naked for ages now. And he’s maintained that hard on with no signs of flagging. Flaunting himself at me. Showing off his prowess. Teasing me with his control and power. Taunting me with what I know will come.

I’m naked now, but sitting here he had barely see me. I’ve been feeling reluctant to expose myself. I’m so much older and my body’s starting to show signs of wear and tear. That’s not at all what he’s used to. He’ll have been working on girls his age or maybe a bit older. Unless, no, surely not. Unless he’s always gone for the more mature woman, servicing his mother’s friends. That’s a thought. It might explain his sure touch. Speaking of which, he is working hard on my tits, sending tingles deep through my flesh and along my nerves. My chest is tight, my breath coming in gasps. This is the moment. I take it.

Removing my hands from his chest, I stand up and turn towards him. He can see me now, for the first time. He had snatches when he was massaging me. He’s been casting sidelong glances for a while now. But here I am. No need for you to pretend not to be interested, Bill. Here I am. Standing over him, I look down and wait to read the reaction in his express as his eyes take me in.

Here I am with my thick thatch of pubic hair. If I’d anticipated this happening, I’s have trimmed that so it was tidier. I move my thighs slightly apart. Let him see my lips through the hairs. His face is close, close enough for him to move forward and bury himself between my legs. I tilt my hips, giving him a better view, inviting him in. Let him notice the dampness there, matting the hair, glistening on my labia, moistening my inner thigh. I push forward, enticing him to make contact. Let him smell me. Fuck, I can smell myself. I stink like some wild animal on heat. He can’t miss that. How can he mistake the signals I am giving off.

While I wait for his reaction, I watch his cock. So tempting, swaying in the air. Strong and proud. Ready and waiting. A single thread of sperm hanging. All I need do is take one step forward, push him gently back and climb astride. Mount my steed. Ride my stud.
 
We continue this for some time, as she scrapes her nails along my chests while I gently fondle her breasts. It still amazes me that I am in fact touching a woman's breasts for real.

This is real!!!? I wonder in shock and amazement. How I went from having never even kissed a girl to being naked with an older woman, touching her breasts was beyond me. She was beautiful, very sensuous and she drove my body crazy just with her warmth and closeness.

As we sit there, touching each other on the couch, her mind seems to be drifting, as though contemplating something. I wish I knew what she was thinking because her every action tonight seemed irrational. Was she being devious? Was she nervous about what she was doing? What would happen if she was caught? What was it about me at my age that she found attractive anyway? Has she done this before with other younger boys?

Suddenly her hands withdraw and she moves off the couch with a commanding deliberateness.

Are we done? I wonder, feeling momentary relief at being able to escape this situation.

Of course she is not done. Moving up towards me, she stands closely so that my face is quite near the juncture between her legs. The curly pubic hair is so close, I could almost be tickled by it and the way she juts her pelvis forward, she gives me a clear view of that mysterious lady part that was so secretive.

Oh my god! I can see her vagina! That's her vagina! I think rather shocked.

There it is. That place, a lady's "private place", that most guys even my age had some curiosity about. It looked soft, with swollen lips, moist, and gave off a scent. Not a bad scent, oddly a rather exciting one. With this my erection starts twitching and straining painfully as I feel some of the accumulated moisture at the tip start to drip down.
Why is it so close? I wonder. Is she expecting me to touch it?.

Nervous, and feeling vulnerable I just look up at her, not knowing what to do next.
 
While Bill watches me, I watch him, watch him watching me. He seems fascinated, almost mesmerised by what he sees, this mature woman with a small belly already developing and, nestled beneath it, a damp patch of matted hair. It’s as if I am the first naked woman he has seen and he is absorbing every detail, the contours of my body, the tones of the flesh, the smells.

Is he aware of me watching him as I am of him watching me? My eyes are fixed on his cock. Fascinated by his control. His shaft is rigid and vertical as it can be, the skin stretched tight across the head as if it will burst if he becomes more aroused, the lips slightly parted to allow a drop of sperm to ooze out and dangle tantalisingly, always threatening to fall but always somehow hanging on. His balls must be aching, full to bursting. Sitting there must be like riding a rocket that is throbbing as it is approaches launch. How would he feel if he stood up? With those balls hanging, dragging his crotch down. That’s probably while he’s sitting still, unable to take the strain of those balls dangling between thighs.

This has become a competition to see which of us will hold out longer. I could break him, no doubt about that. His cock tells me all I need to know. If I went down on him and gobbled it, he wouldn’t stand a chance. All that smug self-control would soon disappear. His sperm would burst down my throat in a hot stream. Maybe that’s it. He’s waiting for me to move in on him. Well, I won’t give him the satisfaction of showing that he’s been able to control and manipulate me. No way. But, hold on, no, maybe that isn’t it at all? Maybe he knows he wouldn’t be able to last and he’s afraid to show how much effect I’ve had on him. He’s holding off as long as he can, hoping maybe to gain more control. Now, that certainly puts a different perspective on what is going on here. And, after all, that is just what I would expect. He is so much younger than I am, he can’t have had much experience with women of my age. He can’t handle it and that’s why he’s behaving like this.

Well, that puts a whole new perspective on what is going on. All the time I was thinking he was the one with the upper hand, controlling and manipulating me, when all along it was the other way round. I was the one with the power, which is just as it should be. So, Bill, it looks like I can have some fun tormenting you, doesn’t it? Where do I begin?

I lift my right leg and my right foot onto the sofa next to his left hip, pushing my hip closer to him face. My nails slowly part my hairs and open my outer lips, showing him my clit red and glistening and throbbing. It’s quite a big one as these things go, so he can’t miss it.

‘There she is, Bill, my front door bell. Do you want to ring it? See if anyone is at home. See if anyone will answer the door.’

My finger slip on my slime as I part the furls of my inner lips, showing him the sodden interior.

‘Look, Bill, someone is at home. They’ve opened the door. Do you want to go inside and have a look around.’

A nail circles around my cunt hole, pushing slowly inside, moving back and forth, round and round. Too late I realise I have made a mistake. While priding myself on the effect I have had on Bill, I underestimated the effect this has had on me. The sudden penetration makes me gasp, my muscles clench around my finger. I need to fuck, right now I need his cock to pump me, help me get relief from this torment that I have been struggling to control.

‘Please, Bill,’ I whisper before I can stop myself, ‘please, now, please.’
 
At this point I can't even pretend to have any self control, not that I ever did at any point. Something deep within me stirs, something I don't fully understand. It's bit scary and exciting, yet it is here to stay. As much as I want to say I'm not like this, I can't take my eyes away from the sight in front of me; it's mesmerizing. I feel my erection straining painfully, and blush self consciously at the level of fluid starting to build up at the tip. Mostly I worry that even the slightest touch will cause me to orgasm, as I am teetering on the brink, terrified of the consequences of falling over the edge.

When she raises her leg, bringing her sex closer to my face I gasp, sighing helplessly while trying to suppress it as the experience overwhelms my senses while I quiver at the sight. Slowly her fingers slide between her legs as I stare, transfixed on the site I never imagined seeing at this stage in life. Part of me still wonders if this is some sort of dream.

Her words, they coax me, taunting me, tempting me as she starts sliding her fingers through her soft hairs, gliding between her legs, and touching her sex as though it was the most normal thing in the world to be doing this in front of a boy my age. When her fingers slowly parted the soft flesh, I saw a bump protruding, which based on my sex ed classes I knew to be the clitoris. Naturally my mouth dropped open. I couldn't stop thinking about that tantalizing flesh, so close, inviting me.

As she teases her womanhood with the tip of her fingers, her heated moans get me excited beyond comprehension until she suddenly cries out. That sound will live with me the rest of my life, so erotic, sending a chill of excitement down my spine that almost caused me to climax right there.

The instant she starts begging me, she owns me. I can't control myself. Values, religion, morals...they're all gone. All that exist in my universe now are her body, her sex and my burning urge to give myself completely to her.

Opening my mouth, I pause, blushing not even sure how to say it. "What do you want me to do?...I don't know...I mean I've never...I don't know what to do. Tell me what you want?". I look at her giving myself to her completely yet my face pleading with her to not judge my complete lack of knowledge or experience. I want to submit completely to her needs, yet I'm terrified she will be disappointed.
 
‘I want you to fuck me,’ I screamed at him. ‘Don’t sit there tormenting me any longer. Can’t you see I’ve had enough. You’ve been playing with me since I came through your front door, teasing me, arousing me, withdrawing and coming on all innocent and unsure of yourself. Don’t fuck me about any longer, Bill. Just fuck me. It’s no good pretending you don’t want to. It’s what you’ve wanted since you set eyes on me. It’s what you probably had planned right from the moment your mother told you I’d be coming.’

How could he just sit there staring at me? How could he still pretend he didn’t know what I wanted? Did he really want me to rape him, because that was going to be the way this ended up if he didn’t get fucking fast. Maybe a different tone was what was needed here.

‘Look, Bill,’ I sank down onto the sofa beside him, ‘you’ve won, alright. Is that what you want to hear? If it is, I admit it. You’ve won. OK? Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me. I’m a grown woman. Your mother’s age. More than twice your age. No man has ever treated me like you have. No fully grown, mature man has ever got me in this state. You can see how I feel. You must be able to smell it.’

I waved my fingers, still glistening with my juice, under his nose.

‘There, smell me, smell the scent of my sex, the stench of my cunt. Here,’ I pushed my fingers into his mouth, ‘taste it, taste me, taste how much I need fucking right now.’

But still no reaction. What could I try next?

‘Alright,’ I rose and stood over him, ‘act out one of your fantasies if you want. Anything you like. I’ll dress up if you want, play the whore, pretend to be one of your teachers, put on your mother’s clothes if that’s what turns you on. You can do anything you want with me. You’ll not get a better offer than that, not in your whole life probably. Tell me your hottest fantasy and we’ll do it, right here, right now. Go on, Bill, tell me what it is. But please fuck me. I can’t take this any more.’
 
I flinch at her aggressive response as she tells me she wants me to..... fuck her? I'd never in my life heard an adult using that kind of language, and certainly never experienced one acting like her.

Everything about this night was very strange. I was both terrified and aroused. Terrified at the implications of what was happening here, even a bit frightened of her, her power, her desire, yet at the same time unable to resist the effect she was having on me as she stood there naked in front of me, talking lewdly and demanding sex.

Again I started struggling with my breathing. Bill get control of yourself I admonish myself. She looks at me, intently. All I want to do is reach out, to touch her body, to feel her warm flesh in my hands, to give myself to her, yet I tremble nervously, frozen in one spot.

When she sat down beside me, just the feel of her thigh brushing against mine almost caused me to climax, as I struggled to maintain control. When she starts pleading with me, I find myself confused. What does she mean "I've won"? She's been calling the shots from the start. Heck, I'm afraid to say no to her.. I sit there listening to her talk about how humiliated she feels as I sit there buck naked beside a woman her age.

As she waves her finger under my nose, I finally realize where that mysterious scent was coming from. As I open my mouth to say something she jams them in gagging me. It's not that she tastes bad it's just that... she's sticking her fingers in my mouth after having rubbed herself down there? Is that hygienic?

I start to worry if maybe she might harm me, yet at the same time all I want to do is touch her and even...have sex with her? I feel vulnerable and even exploited or violated, yet my straining erection says my body wants it...bad!

But she keeps acting like I actually know what to do!

I want to please her so I stand carefully on trembling legs that threaten to collapse out from underneath me.
My body is screaming for her touch, but I'm terrified. Terrified that we are going too far, that we are crossing a serious line, yet also terrified that in my inexperience I will disappoint her.

"Mrs. Thorpe.." I say with a trembling voice;

"I want to....you know...do what you want me to do" my face is burning crimson red with embarrassment;

"I want to make you happy, I really do it's...just..." I swallow, looking away in shame not able to say it....

"I've never....done it" My face burns even brighter crimson at that admission. "I've never even kissed a girl".

I look away in shame at that admission.

"I don't really even know how....I'll do what you want but......can you help...I mean....show me?"

I can't believe I just said that.

"I'm afraid that I won't be very good and, that...maybe you'll be disappointed." I look down again. "If you show me what to do, I'll do my best anything you want but.....try to be patient and understand ...this is my first time even touching a girl. I'm a bit nervous".

I look at her pleadingly thinking Please stop assuming I know more than I do. Just do what you want and stop getting frustrated with me
 
I can’t believe it. I can’t fucking believe it. he wants to play virgin taken by older woman. That’s a fun game, but it takes ages going through everything, explaining it all in detail, letting them try it out, helping as they pretend not to know what to do and fumble around. But I don’t have the time for all that. Can’t he see the state I’m in? Can’t he smell it? Didn’t he understand what I just told him? Well, it’s just to bad, because I don’t have the time. There is no way I am going to last. Long enough to play out that scenario. And what’s more I don’t think he’s in any state to last either.

I feel bad about this, just a little bit anyway, because I promised we could play out his fantasy, but I never expected him to tell me that he wanted to carry on playing the game he’d been teasing me with since I arrived. Enough is enough.

I stand up and confront him. His face is level with my crotch and he’s not sure where to look for the best view. My legs are shaking, sweat is forming under my breasts, my mouth is dry. I grab him by the chin and pull his face up.

‘So you want to play, Bill. OK, fine. Well, this is my version of virgin taken by MILF, OK? It’s the rape version. The one where the older woman has been driven to distraction and knows she needs to fuck, right away, because if she doesn’t she’ll go stark raving mad. And she’s got this innocent guy and he’s what’s available and she’s going to take him no matter what. There are only two rules. One is that anything goes. And the other is that if you cum too soon, I’ll rip your balls off. I trust that is clear.’

I push him back onto the sofa and climb astride him.

‘Now, I’ll give you some basic instruction, just to get you started and then you’re on your own. You’ll find it isn’t too difficult once you get into the swing of it.’

I take hold of his cock, pull it away from his belly and lower myself over him.

‘So what happens next,’ I adopt a school mam tone, ‘is that I slide down your cock until your balls bang my ass. Then I climb up your cock and slide down again. Things can get a bit more complicated, but we’ll play it by ear as we go along.’

I rub the tip of his cock between my lips to give it a bit of lubrication and then pushed down hard, forcing him inside, deep inside, in one long swift stroke, letting out a long sigh.
 
I wasn't sure how she would take my response, but something didn't feel right about the look on her face when I confided in her. She seemed to have the wheels spinning in her head and looked rather antagonized by my response. What did I do wrong? I've completely submitted and given her what she wants....yet she looks ready to explode?

She stands assertively, her crotch right in my face as I stare in wonder and fear, both at the sex so close to my face and her new mood. Something has definitely shifted in her, and to be honest, I'm not sure I feel comfortable right now, despite my physical arousal.
She grabs my chin tightly, hurting a bit and yanks my face upward to look at her, causing me to flinch and gasp. Looking up at her nervously, pleading with my eyes I try to avoid angering her as she starts to speak.

As soon an she starts, her words concern me. I'm not playing anything! this is no....game! You've been in charge since you came in here and this is all of your doing! ........Rape?...Why....... I'm confused and nervous now. Rape has never been seen as a good thing, and while I'm not sure I'm even ready for sex, If I have to do this....and evidently I have to.....I don't want it to be rape.
Her reference to "anything goes" is disconcerting, but even more so is her threat to rip my balls off. Clearly she won't go that far as my family expects to come home and find me intact, and she doesn't want to go to jail but....maybe she'll hurt me?

I yelp at the roughness with which she pushes me back, dominating me physically as she climbs above me while I lay on my back. I open my mouth to speak but at that moment she grabs my erection, causing a gasp, as she lowers herself over me.

Her description of the act we are about to engage in is highly erotic, adding to my lack of control but then the second thoughts start hitting me. What about protection?. It suddenly occurs to me that we are about to do that thing that gets people pregnant. Pregnancy?!. Suddenly the reality crashes into me hard. I'm nowhere near ready for sex. I'm not ready to lose my virginity!

I open my mouth to speak, just as her labia touch the tip of my erection and all that comes out is a high pitched gasp. I lay there open mouthed trying desperately to control my breathing as she slides the delicate sensuous lips over the sensitive head of my tortured organ, creating a physical sensation unlike any I have ever felt before. I also feel my body about to lose control on the edge of climax.

I try to regain my senses to try to speak and say something, starting to shake my head but then she places her weight down, and for the briefest of moments, barely a second her outer lips resist, before parting and allowing my head to slide past those delectable lips, and inside the grasping inner ring of her womanhood. I literally cry out in shock at the unexplainable pleasure, of feeling her insides grasping my sensitive bell head. My mouth wide open, as are my eyes I grasp the material of the couch with each hand, gripping tight as my knuckles turn white and my whole body tenses. She continues to slide down as I can only release a high pitched gasp, overwhelmed by the exquisite sensation of her incredibly soft inner sheath, slowly sliding over my straining young organ. The soft warm wetness indescribable, something I never could have imagined as I feel the flesh on flesh contact, her gripping womanhood sliding over my sensitive flesh until she rests seating on me, her buttocks on my pelvis as her weight presses down and her inner sheath grasps me, embracing my sensitive flesh.

I'm inside a woman!!!! I lay in shock for the briefest of a second. I'm...my penis is inside....a woman's private par.....vagina!!!. The sheer physical pleasure, and oddly emotional intimacy of this physical act has me helpless under her looking up at her physical beauty, and feeling every sensation, taking in every smell. This all takes place in a second or so...but it starts to push me over the edge. I gasp shallow breaths, trying desperately to stop the orgasm that seems determined to explode out of me, when intentionally or otherwise, her insides squeeze ever so slightly around my quivering erection and the battle is lost. Unable to restrain it, the tingling sensation builds up and then rips through me like a tidal wave, a current going through my body as I quiver helplessly, and feel my scrotum tighten almost painfully, while my erection spasms sending jets of semen flying up into her womanly depths as I stare up at her, open mouthed, lost in the moment. I can't describe the physical intimacy of releasing ones bodily fluids inside of a woman's body, as I never could have truly understood the sensation until now, but it was incredible. I pumped every last drop of my seed inside her body, and then sagged, soaking wet with sweat, breathing hard trying to recover, when suddenly it hits me. I just ejaculated inside a woman! Oh my god, please don't get pregnant!...Looking up I apologise, because she also wanted my not to do that.

"I'm sorry....I just....I didn't mean to.....I...." I look up at her, blushing crimson and ashamed, hoping she'll understand.
 
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