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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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There was no point in denying it to herself anymore. She had been told many times over recent months by both men and women alike and she took nothing but pleasure from looking at herself in the mirror these days. She was in her early fifties but she looked much, much younger. 'Good genes' she thought to herself.
"And good jeans," Caryn said out loud as she spun around in the mirror, admiring her long legs and impossible, 'bubble' ass that she was able to poke out at an impossible angle to capture the eyes and minds of her many new admirers.
To top this vision off, she had tits that didn't belong on such a petite frame. She had been measured for new underwear recently and the shop assistant was aghast (and not a little jealous, she surmised) that Caryn had eye-popping 34DD tits with a tiny 23 inch waist. Her red hair had slowly evolved, at her choosing, to blonde and as she admired herself again, she liked what she saw. She was blonde, had huge tits, an arse that made men trip over themselves and toned and shapely legs that would stop traffic. Her new purchase of figure-hugging, spray-on jeans was just one of many purchases that she'd made in recent months as her inner belief had steadily grown.
This confidence had occurred only quite recently.
Caryn had been married for fifteen years to Steve and they had a son, Josh. They had all enjoyed the money that had started to roll in once Caryn had gone back to work when Josh was old enough to be looked after by a nanny or relative. A villa in Spain cemented her thoughts that she was a woman who had everything. A gorgeous if roguish husband, a wonderful house, a bolt-hole in Spain and a happy and contented son who was popular and would invite all manner of boys to come round after school.
When she looked back on that blissful period, she often wondered if she had made the best of herself and that if she had done things slightly different then...
Her husband hadn't ever complimented her on her curves (she hadn't realised at the time) and a year after they'd bought the villa in Spain, she found out that he had had numerous affairs and had finally run off with a girl much younger than she. She had been devastated when he had left. Her confidence hit rock-bottom. They had to sell their Spanish villa and it had been touch-and-go as to whether she could afford to keep the family home. She managed it somehow but life wasn't the easy ride she had once enjoyed. Most of her money was accounted for before it came in to her account but after eighteen months of struggling to deal with the financial fall-out AND coming to terms with her emotional turmoil, she had finally started to turn a corner. A new health regime had seen her drop a dress size for the first time in ten years and a new exercise regime and a brand new outlook saw her transform herself from dowdy victim to power-dressing, self aware MILF.
Yes, MILF.
Part of her 'therapy' (of the self-help variety) had been pornography and she was now quickly able to rattle through the categories: She was a connoisseur of BDSM, Huge Tits, Anal, Interracial etc. But she had started to particularly enjoy the idea of younger men finding older women attractive and this had translated into her category of choice being 'MILF'. It was, she supposed, as a direct result of being dumped by her husband for a younger woman; revenge, if you like. But her husband's departure was now nearly two years in the past (and anyway the last she had heard, the girl was now a hopeless crack cocaine addict and his money (her money!) was running out fast. 'Good. Serves him right' she would would say to herself.)
The young men on the internet were 'ripped' and 'hung' (to use the parlance!) As she watched more and more, she started to become quite fussy and anyone with a less than truncheon-sized dick would be dismissed. What she had noticed was that all the guys with the largest cocks were usually black (sad but true.) Also, she particularly enjoyed the 'money shots'. She understood that someone cumming in a pussy wasn't terribly entertaining in a porn movie, but she loved the idea of being so 'in the moment' that one wanted to sprayed with hot, sticky jizm (it was certainly something she had never done with any of her previous boyfriends or husband.) She had never been with a man with an over-sized cock and she had DEFINITELY never been with a black man having had a fairly sheltered upbringing in a predominantly white area. She would fantasise about the possibility as she masturbated herself to a frenzy practically every night.
Her family home had felt like winter for nearly two years since her husband had left, but now she was coming into spring and, she felt, was about to burst into summer.
Her son's friends started to visit again. (Josh had very kindly warned them off as her moods swayed this way and that during the separation and divorce.) In the past, they would usually dash straight to the computer and play video games. Her appearances among the boys, to deliver pizza or drinks at Josh's behest, were usually met with a collective grunt, such was the intensity of her son's friends' gaming. But in the intervening months, some of the pre-pubescent boys had started to turn into young men and she would notice them looking at her differently. Some of this was to do with their journey through puberty but she also was wearing clothes that really accentuated her faultless figure. She supposed she was even 'dressing up' for when they arrived; subconsciously seeking approval from young men just like the ones she observed nightly on her computer.
One boy in particular, Errol, appeared to make no secret of his interest. When she entered the room, for whatever reason (admittedly, she'd occasionally invent reasons) he would either stop playing and stare or pretend to play and stare. And she had noticed how he took more breaks from the video games than most and would accidentally take a wrong turn and spy her in the kitchen, turning away with a not-so-embarrassed 'sorry'. He was black and 'built'. He was just over six feet tall but she was sure that he'd go way beyond that once he'd finished growing (his father, she had heard, was a former Marine and stood at an impressive 6ft 5inches.) For some reason, the boys and Josh were always joking about Errol's size 14 feet and big hands, a conversation she thought she understood but she couldn't work out if this was a double-bluff. But she would watch him as he swaggered away and wonder what it would be like to experience such youthful energy. At times like this, she would sometimes take herself up to her room and turn on her laptop.
But the sad truth was, she had not dated since her husband had left her and her only sexual release came courtesy of her rampant rabbit vibe. As she watched more and more pornography, she had become more and more curious and had started to order other sex toys until she had quite a collection of dongs, butt plugs, anal beads and vibrators of every size. She'd also started buying shoes and boots with much higher heels than she had ever worn before. She liked what they did for her legs; her perfect calf muscles straining as she clomped about in them. Initially, she had only dared to wear them around the house but had started to 'trot' into town in them and could feel the eyes of both men and women (for different reasons) burning into her as she strutted around town on an errand. She would usually match her towering heels with shorter than normal skirts and figure hugging tops. She was really getting off on the silent attention but this was no substitute for a hands-on experience. She was becoming quite desperate to be fucked.
* * * * * *
She heard the door open and close.
"Hi. I'm in here." She was looking at her computer in the kitchen but switched to a more appropriate page on hearing her son arrive home from school.
"Great," said Josh, not bothering to come into the kitchen but starting to clomp upstairs to his room. "Some friends are coming round to play Black Ops shortly. I'll be in my room. Will you send them up when they arrive?"
"Sure."
She went back to her computer, resuming where she had left off enjoying for the umpteenth time the sight of a particularly well-endowed black man pounding a MILF in every available hole.
There was a knock at the door. She thought about closing the computer but left it open and walked to the door. She opened it and two of Josh's friends shuffled in.
"We found this by the plant pot outside, Mrs P."
"That damn postman. Why doesn't he just knock on the door? Thank you, boys," said Caryn and ushered them upstairs to Josh's room.
She went back to the kitchen and hungrily unwrapped the package. It was a dress she'd been following (and had naturally bought) on eBay. It was a lycra sleeveless mini dress in powder blue with a high neck but with a cut out that would show her cleavage. The back was scooped and the hemline was shorter than was probably decent for someone of her age. They had also only had it in a small size but it had seemed such a bargain.
She listened to make sure the boys were still upstairs and slipped out of her clothes. With some effort she got the dress over her head and with even more effort she pulled it down over her voluminous breasts before finally smoothing it down. She walked to the hallway and looked in the full length mirror. She gasped and then giggled. She could NEVER go out in this, surely. Her huge tits were causing the material to strain alarmingly to the point of exposure and she could see her bra plainly above and through the material. Expertly, she unclipped it through the cloth and pulled it through one of the arm holes throwing it on the floor. Her breasts were gravity-defying anyway, but the tightness of the material held them in place perfectly. She clearly liked what she saw as her nipples were erect and visible through the thin lycra. She turned and looked at her ass in the mirror. She could see the outline of her thong. After checking again that the boys were not about to come down the stairs, she quickly pulled up the hem of the dress, whipped her thong off, threw it to the ground and lowered the hem again.
She checked herself in the mirror again and stood on tip toes to give the effect of being in high heels but then spotted that there were some ankle boots at the bottom of the stairs; a pair of platform, light brown leather ones with a stiletto heel. She slipped into them and looked again. She felt so sexy. She felt as though she were just about to star in her own porn movie. She felt...
There was a knock at the door.
Caryn froze. Her eyes widened. She was panicking. A moment ago she imagined herself as a super-MILF porn star and here she was panicking that someone might see her in her new outfit.
She looked about and wondered whether Josh would come to her rescue but after a few more moment's hesitation, she could see no alternative but to answer the door in her 'inappropriate' clothing.
She opened the door slightly and saw Errol.
"Oh Errol, it's you. Come in."
Errol came in and unashamedly drank in what he was seeing.
"Sorry, I was just..."
"Mrs P! You look...I love your..."
"Thank you! I was just trying it on. It was from eBay. I thought all of Josh's friends were already here. Sorry, I..."
"Don't apologise, Mrs P. You look..."
"Embarrassed?"
"No. You look amazing!! I...I..."
"That's sweet, Errol. The other boys are upstairs..."
"Errol!" she heard her son shout from the top floor. "We're coming down to play Black Ops. Turn the Xbox on."
"OK," said Errol, his eyes not leaving Caryn.
"I'll leave you to er..."
"You forgot these."
Errol bent down and picked up her discarded thong and bra. Caryn flushed red, grabbed her underwear and turned and trotted to the kitchen. Errol didn't move and she could feel his gaze on her.
She got to the kitchen and turned the corner, safe at last from his gaze. She let out a long slow breath but was giggling to herself. What must he think? She was also aware that she could feel some heat in her pussy.
She waited until the boys had filed into the lounge; waited until she heard the familiar sounds of their gaming and then waited some more before she finally gathered up the clothes she had discarded earlier. Still wearing her high platform ankle boots, she clip-clopped across the marble floor of the kitchen to the hard-wood of the hall, heading for the stairs to get herself out of her new purchase in the privacy of her own bedroom. As her foot reached the bottom step, the door opened and Errol appeared.
"...OK Boys."
He turned and smiled. It was the smile of someone who was confident and assured (confident way beyond his years, Mrs P pondered again.) The smile of someone who liked what he saw. He closed the door to the gaming room.
"I just have to use the bathroom, Mrs P," he whispered.
"OK." Said Caryn. "Oh, you can't use the downstairs toilet because it's not working properly. You can use the..." Caryn's voice trailed off as she saw his smile broaden further. She gestured upstairs.
"Well, after you, Mrs P."
She paused for a moment before turning and climbing the stairs. The house was quite old and the stairs, though grand, were quite steep. She heard him on the bottom step. He seemed in no rush to follow her and she realised that he was checking out her ass. She also realised that he was able to check her out in more detail as she was devoid of underwear!
She turned the corner on to the landing. Her bedroom door was at the end.
She heard Errol downstairs. He was opening the front door and then immediately slamming it shut again and she wondered if she had scared him off. However, she suddenly heard him as he stealthily bounded up the stairs and he was beside her in less than two seconds.
"Which bathroom should I use, Mrs P?" He was whispering again.
"Take your pick. There's the main bathroom or you can use the one in Josh's room."
"Thanks, Mrs P."
Their eyes locked. So much was said in that momentary gaze. She looked up into his dark eyes and wondered whether she could (or should) really consider having sex with someone so young; someone so obviously infatuated with her; someone who clearly felt that he had the tools to take his lusting to the next level. He looked down into her pale blue eyes and saw only that he could have her. She was ready. She was his. His years of porn training were about to culminate in realising a dream that he had had many years previous. A dream that featured the woman now stood before him as the central character. It was time.
She broke the gaze and turned to move along the landing to her room. All the time she was aware of him unashamedly staring. She turned into her room, glancing briefly back to see him standing like a statue, drinking in her curves. She got into the room and closed the door, leaning heavily on it and exhaling slowly again, trying to calm herself down. The room was carpeted and she silently moved inside a few steps. She looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was...she wanted to say 'nice' but the words 'tarty' or 'hooker' sprung to mind. The words of a close friend of hers also materialised.
"There are only 5% of women that can carry off wearing the clothes that you are able to wear. So you go girl!"
This gave her some comfort and confidence but she knew she was playing with fire here.
The family bathroom was next door to her own en suite room and she moved into her own bathroom, deciding suddenly that she needed to 'freshen up'. In the main bathroom, Caryn heard the toilet being flushed. She waited and heard what she thought was the tap being run.
She waited. Listening all the while.
Then she heard the front door slam shut. She left her bathroom to look out of her window. Josh was leaving with his friends. She watched them without seeing them, trying to make sense of what was going on. Why had they left without Errol? Though she had to admit that she had lustful feelings for him, her son and his friends being downstairs was her safety net. Then she remembered Errol's bizarre ritual at the bottom of the stairs and realised that his friends were under the impression that Errol had left already. She turned slowly, looking in the direction of her en suite bathroom and the family bathroom beyond, almost expecting Errol to burst through the wall any moment.
She walked on wobbly legs back to her bathroom and pressed her ear to the wall. Then she thought she heard the shower door being closed and not long after that, the familiar sound of water splashing at the bottom of the shower tray.
"What the..."
She listened for a short while before she decided to walk out of her en suite and confront Errol. She opened her bedroom door. The family bathroom door was wide open ('Such confidence,' she thought again.)
She edged along the landing and peeked through the door. Standing in the double shower was Errol. He had shampoo in his hair and it was streaming down his face. The white soap suds contrasted with his ebony skin as they slid down his impressive, fat-free torso. She was able to drink everything in but she took a step back when she saw his cock. The internet porn index in her mind was hovering between 'Huge' and 'Monster' in its description of what she was seeing. He had clearly given it some attention already but to all intents and purposes, this was a flaccid, 9inch penis with an eye-watering girth. She could only wonder how it would look when fully engorged. She stared in wonder. The porn stars had started to meld into one but now that she was faced with a real live 'monster' she started to doubt her abilities to ever be able to conquer such a beast.
Caryn was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Errol staring at her. She almost wasn't aware as he turned off the faucet.
"Enjoying the view?"
Caryn snapped back to reality. Again, his super-confidence was surprising for someone who had only just turned 18. It actually annoyed her but as she started to 'pump' herself up, ready to scold him, she realised how ridiculous the situation was. Her son's friend was naked in her shower and giving her what was unmistakably an invite and she was standing in sky high heels, a dress that barely contained her perfect body and no knickers or bra. Also, she now noticed, her body felt hot and she had started to feel squirmy in between her legs.
"Sorry. I er...you were...I..."
She gathered her thoughts before saying. "What the hell are you doing in my shower?"
"I thought you'd appreciate me getting myself clean for you, Mrs P".
He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world to say.
"You do want me to be clean before I fuck you, don't you Mrs P?"
He ran his hands through his tightly shaved head and then down his body to get rid of any excess water. He took his cock in his hands and gave it some experimental tugs. She watched in awe as it sprang into impressive life. She gaped as it started to grow.
She heard him laugh.
"You can take a much closer look if you like, Mrs P."
She ripped her eyes from his cock and met his eyes through the slightly steamed up glass of the shower. After a few seconds of hesitation, she moved into the bathroom. As he saw her move, he opened the door to the cubicle and stepped out, the water running in rivulets down his ripped torso.
Once she was stood beside him, his massive body towering over her, she felt overawed and her knees started to tremble anew. She decided not to look into his eyes for fear that she would see in them her son's friend. She didn't want to see a 18 year old boy whom she'd known for several years. She wanted no reminders that she was skating a line of decency (who was she kidding, she was hop, skipping and jumping over that line!) Instead, she wanted to focus on her needs as a woman. She wanted to focus on this body and this cock and what it would do for her. |
