Wendy Ch. 08

"Don't stretch them," her head came off the pillow; she was watching me move the underside of her lace panties aside in order to gain access to her pussy lips. I looked to her for a better plan.

"Just pull them down," she smiled, lifting her butt for me. Our four hands and her two legs worked feverishly to free her of the lace panties which, only a few minutes before, had been the object of our attention. She flung the tiny piece of lace toward the lamp.

Her dark pubic hair had been trimmed neatly and had been drenched in an aromic scent that I did not waste time trying to identify but it was gratifying to think that she had prepared for this moment. Her lips parted with the slightest pressure from my tongue and turned inside out, yielding the sensitive softness of her wetness.

Lydia's legs changed positions without warning, neither of us knew which direction their movements would take, from straight up in the air to wide open to bent back to her armpits, then over my shoulders to capture my head. She expressed herself with her leg movement and with husky, halted utterances coming from deep within throat, "do... do that... don't... do... ah... do... yes... ah... tha... " Her butt danced from side to side and jumped from the cot with abandon.

When I flicked her clit there was a stream of unintelligible blabber, "coz... mos... cu... mmm... go... god... do... don'... sto... plez... " as her thighs gripped my head. "Ahhhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh," then her legs went limp, freeing me.

Lydia's chest heaved, rising and falling in an effort to refill her lungs with air and to regain her composure. There was a half smile on her face as she stroked and patted the top my head, contentedly.

"Let me... let me catch... oh, Cotton, that was so nice... let me, then we'll fuck... okay? I want to fuck... we'll fuck... okay?" Her hands were firmly fixed to my head, holding me some two inches from her pussy.

I stuck out my tongue, playfully. This was returned by a frightened gaze and increased pressure on my head. "Cotton, no. My period lasted until Thursday, I'll be sore, let's just fuck, okay honey, we'll fuck." Her eyes pleaded with me but I was in a jovial mood. My tongue darted out again, harmlessly.

"COTTON, I SAID NO!"

"MOM," followed by knocking that rattled the door, "MOM, are you all right?"

{to be continued}

According to Lydia

I tried, God knows I tried to stay in character but it didn't work. Reminding myself that I was the 'Reining Queen Bitch' and owed it to myself and my followers to act accordingly. But seeing the forlorn figure standing across the street in the light rain like a young pup with an itch, and knowing it was Cotton, made me want to be the young pup's bitch.

As I watched the figure stand on the wall I wondered if he could smell my inflamed labia and if he was getting a whiff of my desire for 'One More Time.'

The smells allured him, first to my kitchen and then to my sewing room where we had fantastic sex on the floor, after which we talked like adults, disregarding the difference in our ages.

"We mustn't," I warned him but I could see that he would persist. 'I'm so weak,' I thought, knowing I was close to giving in. I even practiced, in my mind, what I would say. "Take the other condom out of your sock and we'll do it once more, then you must leave." But I didn't say anything.

"I'll pull out," he said, with so much confidence that I almost fell for it. I joked about having heard that line before. His hand roamed my back, making my skin tingle and his cock bounced around my most sensitive areas.

"I'll pull out and come on your back," he whispered in my ear and I nearly crumbled. 'I must be strong, this can not happen, why am I even considering letting it happen?'

With resolve, I placed a hand on his shoulder in an effort to lift myself to my feet. I would stand, I thought, and if he got to his feet to pursue me I would insist that he use the other condom. Otherwise, I would show him to the door.

But just as I put my weight on him I felt his lips on my nipple and a hand on my other tit which seized my being and forced my body to shrink back into his arms. Without deliberation, I bent to his ear and whispered, "are you sure?"

Getting his assurance that he could pull out, which now I realize was not audible; his continued flicking and sucking on one of my nipples while mauling the other was convincing. I crawled across the coverlet and invited him to follow, to mount me from the rear.

Nothing else mattered, I wanted him in me. I even turned my head and mouthed, "fuck me!"

And he did. I wanted it hard and that's what I got. I urged him to take my tits in his hands and that's what I got. I announced to my neighbors and anyone else in the vicinity how good it was and that I was coming, coming, coming. From his position, Cotton could not control my exuberance but he tried to control the erratic movement my butt was making. I felt his hands on my hips, holding, freeing, holding, freeing in an effort to match the timing of our thrusts.

Cotton kept his word and spilled his seed on my back but I didn't hear his warning and kept pumping, fucking air for a time. We spread out on the coverlet and celebrated the pleasure we had bestowed upon each other. I let myself, and him, revel. But as they say, everything must come to an end and that is what I told Cotton. Clearly and with resolve, I made him understand that this was the last time. He was not to return. At the door we kissed and I told him, "Go!"

*~*

The warnings came late Sunday night and by early Monday morning it was there; that time of the month, that makes a woman irritable, quarrelsome and a pain to be around. I was overjoyed! I counted my blessings.

On Tuesday I sat with a cup of tea, thinking that I should be proud of myself for laying down the law, there would be no more visits. 'Cotton had understood that,' I told myself.

On Wednesday I had second thoughts. 'What if he did not believe me? What if he comes around trying to see me again? What if I let him?' That's simple, I won't let him in, I'll be strong,' I thought.

Thursday was a day of decision. I considered and reconsidered the risks and consequences of seeing, what I really meant was fucking, Cotton again. Was I crazy or just acting that way? What was I thinking? I walked from room to room, wondering how I had gotten there. Being found out would be my demise but so would not acting on my desires. I had needs and there was a young man who was willing and able to fulfill them. Deliberation was futile; the decision had already been made. One more time.

On Friday I drove fifty miles from home to make a purchase and ended making two. There were only two people in the small drug store, a young female clerk who I walked past as if she was a mannequin, daring her to question my presence or to follow me, and a pharmacist who looked to be about age 50.

He wore a white jacket with pens in the pocket and had a thin mustache with one unruly hair that dragged on his lower lip; something I found disconcerting. He had observed my entrance, I was dressed in riding pants and boots, a flannel shirt and a hat that I had found in a box in the back of my closet: it was what we had referred to as the 'Al Capone' hat during its short lived popularity, and he came from behind his pill boxes to greet me.

Directly, and in my 'queen of bitches,' tone I announced, "I'm here to buy prophylactics."

Without hesitation, the man in the white jacket showed me his selection of latex protection devices. He described the various materials, strengths, qualities and even the colors of different packages which he produced, one at a time, from a locked showcase as if he was selling me a new automobile.

I chose two packages containing 12 condoms each, which the pill man described as thin, yet durable to afford enjoyable, yet secure pleasure, because I liked the slick black packaging, not because of anything the druggist had said.

The clerk was bent down behind the perfume counter when I made my exit, expecting, I was sure, for me to produce a riding crop and swing it wildly if she showed her head.

At my car a block away from the drug store I threw the hat in the back seat, unpinned my hair to let it fall and took several deep breaths to satisfy myself that I was still alive. Then I crossed the street to a lingerie shop to purchase two sets of black lace underwear, so shear and skimpily they were 'naughty', personified.

When I got home I hid my purchases in the sewing room and my bedroom. Then I telephoned friends of mine who had children the same age as Lisa and Junior. Casually, I arranged for my kids to spend Saturday night with their families. While I surmised that they were suspicious of my requests, the mothers did not ask questions. In fact, they were honored to be entrusted with my children in their homes for an entire night.

Junior was pleased to learn that he had been invited to a sleep over but Lisa complained that my friend's daughter was not one of her friends and furthermore, spending an entire night with the girl could cause her own social status to take a serious downslide. How did I know? It was too late to make other arrangements. I was desperate. Breaking one of my most strict parenting rules, I bribed her with the promise of a shopping excursion to an exclusive clothing store.

Saturday was a day for preparation. I spent the morning with the kids, helping them plan how to dress and what to take with them. The guilt that I was feeling for pushing them out of the house so that I could cavort with Cotton nearly caused me to cancel our plans, the children's and mine. But in the end, my craving to satisfy my own needs won out.

After delivering the children to their respective host families I took a long hot bubble bath and pampered my body with lotions and powder. While in the tub I shaved my legs and neatly trimmed my virginal hair.

It was only 6:00 P.M.; two hours to wait. I had second thoughts. My plan was to call him and invite him over but what if Marcie was there? What excuse could I use for calling her employee? There was, I decided, no plausible reason for a 35 year old divorced mother of two to call an 18 year old high school student at 8:00 P.M. on Saturday night.

All would be for naught, the trip to the drug store for condoms, the purchase of sexy underwear and coaxing my children out of the house had been done in vain. I went to my room to change clothes, I would scrap the idea.

As I removed the simple house dress that buttoned down the front I looked in the mirror. My reflection looked strange as if I was looking at myself for the first time. I rubbed my hand over my tummy and thought, 'he's touched me there.' I turned to see the flesh of my ass cheeks extending below the black lace. Cupping the smooth skin I thought, 'he's touched me there.' Soon my hands were flying over my body and thinking, 'he's touched me here, here and here and I want him to do it again, one more time.'

Marcie answered the phone and I hung up. 'Why was she still there? Did she not have the usual Saturday night date with Tad? Some said that he would never marry her, others said she would not marry him. There was an age difference and Tad, the state senator, had been married before. Marcie was nearly as old as I was. Why was I even thinking about this? All that mattered was that Cotton answered my call and that I could lure him to my home.' I would wait and try once more.

He arrived somewhat out of breath. I noticed his wet hair and there was a cut on his chin. He wanted to know if my children were there and I told him no. I had told him on the phone that I had a surprise for him. I lead him to the kitchen and gave him the choices: we could go to my bedroom with no lights or to the sewing room with a small lamp. He chose the sewing room.

I didn't lock the door because there would be no one to disturb us. He noticed the dim light and thought that was the surprise. I stepped to him to tell him the surprise, "you're not going to be a papa, isn't that good news?"

At first I didn't think he understood but later he sighed and I could see how relieved he was. We sat on the cot and talked. I wanted to make sure that he understood how foolish we had been. I told him how vulnerable I was, how I might be swayed to let him enter me without protection. He promised that he would not ask me again.

However, when he said he would never do anything to jeopardize me I blew up, saying, "what did you think that was?" pointing to the floor where we had done it doggy style only a week before.

It took him a long time to settle me down but soon we were in each others arms. He soon had four buttons on my dress undone and my bra unfastened. I told him to undo the rest of my buttons while I undressed him.

But I wanted him to see me in my new underwear. I refastened the bra as I went to get the condoms. As I turned I could see how excited the new underwear was making him. I did a little sexy song: "An... oth... er... sur... pr... ise," and strutted for him. I even turned to give him a view of how my ass cheeks filled out the narrow band of lace.

He was quite taken back when I handed him the condoms. He was overwhelmed, not knowing what to say.

"Put one on," I ordered, rocking back and forth from my toes to my heals, anticipating what was to follow. I took his cock in my hand to inspect its cover and felt it throb. This is what I wanted, what I had dreamed about, what I had schemed for.

"Time's wasting, let's get to it," I said, a woman possessed with desire. Why was I rushing things? We had plenty of time, I had arranged that. But I wanted to make the most of it, to squeeze every drop of cum out of my young lover. I deserved it. Besides, this would be the last time, I thought, already regretting my vow to end it.

As I reached for the coverlet to spread it out on the floor as we had done before he touched my shoulder and motioned toward the cot, smiling. He was reminding me that tonight, we could make noise and why not use the cot. 'Why not,' I thought.

I jumped on the cot and remembered how old it was as the springs made a squeaking sound when my butt hit the mattress. Cotton joined me on the cot, pulling me down to the end where he knelt. He begins to kiss, from my ankles to my cunt.

"Don't stretch them," I cautioned as he started to remove my panties. But I really didn't care if he tore them off and they were ruined, so be it. This would be the last time and I would have no more use for sexy underwear. If this was so, 'Why had I bought two pair?'

"Just pull them down," I said, lifting my butt to help him and noticing that the crotch was wet as I tossed them behind me. I was glad that I had spent time making my legs and virginal region smooth and sweet smelling. His face was buried in my pussy and I was going wild.

Everything was working to plan. This was what I had waited for and I wanted to enjoy it. With the children out of the house I could let myself go. I didn't know what I was screaming, I just wanted him to know how good he was making me feel. The poor little cot must have taken a beating as my butt bucked and my legs slammed down against the mattress, trying to capture the pleasure that I was receiving. My hands held his head to my cunt as I screamed, "do... do that... don't... do... ah... do... yes... ah... tha... "

"I'm com... I'm... Cot... ton... I'm... " I kept coming and he kept licking, I couldn't make him understand. He flicked my clit again, "Ahhhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh." My legs went limp and I couldn't catch my breath. I finally got his attention when I took him by the ears and lifted his head.

"Let me... let me catch... oh, Cotton, that was so nice... let me, then we'll fuck... okay? I want to fuck... we'll fuck... okay?" My hands were firmly fixed to his head, holding him two inches from my pussy.

I was covered with sweat and the bra was restricting my breathing. My arms were so tired that I let his head go. I looked down to see him watching me, grinning.

He stuck out his tongue again as if he was measuring the distance to my clit. I pleaded with him, "Cotton, no. My period lasted until Thursday, I'll be sore, let's just fuck, okay honey, we'll fuck." I couldn't take anymore. When his tongue darted out again, I screamed,

"COTTON, I SAID NO!"

"MOM," followed by knocking that rattled the door, "MOM, are you all right?"

{to be continued}

{my thanks to Patrick}

{my thanks to readers, double thanks to those who vote, triple thanks to readers who vote and provide feedback}