What Do You Need, Mrs. Mayfield?

Her fingers too strayed again and again to her mound and fleshy bud inside her bottoms as she modeled topless the tangerine suit. She brushed her erect nipples with the juices that seeped from between her diminutive lips and then blew them dry so as not to stain her top, the sensation of need soon becoming so strong that she had to force herself to cover her boobs and busy herself otherwise as she awaited his return, finally rubbing the clear essence right behind her ear lobes.

Had he masturbated? She had hoped not; she wanted every drop of him and every ounce of his energy. She finally decided to move things ahead a pace and, well, take the bull by his one very large horn. On his return she poured a glass of lemonade and climbed the stairs to the front room, her lips viscously gliding against each other as she walked. She had to fight the urge to drop her bottoms and jam her curled fingers into depths to scratch the itch she had been building all day. How long would this take, she wondered, as she silently eyed him through the doorway for what seemed like minutes. Before entering, she shamelessly added one last slutty touch by squatting slightly and tucking a thin fold of material into the moist slit of her pussy. Her nipples were already hard as rocks; no need to pinch them she realized with a smile. She gave him fifteen minutes to start work before she entered the room with a subdued "hello."

"Something to cool you off" she questioned as she strolled into the room, the sweat and coconut oil making her skin glow while around her body hung an aroma that by now included the juices she had dabbed onto herself. Her fingers smelled of their excursions to dab at the clear, warm fluid that seeped from her; after tasting herself, rather than wash her hands, she hoped that some of her scent would mingle with the condensation on the glass of lemonade she brought to him, perhaps subconsciously arousing him as he raised glass to lips, or brought his lips to hers, as she could taste her pussy on her tongue as she advanced. He was seated and didn't rise; he waited for her to bring the drink to him as it appeared that his state of excitement had grown somewhat, and on her reemergence was now again developing. Indeed, she couldn't tell if he had worked since he returned to her house. Maybe he hadn't relieved himself when he changed after all.

"Thank you" he said, not looking her directly in the eye as he gulped the liquid like a man dehydrated, hoping the cold would distract him and deflate his erection. She moved about the room so he could feast on her some more, standing just in front of him eventually, her ass at the level of his face in his seated position, stretching, motioning and talking of how she wanted to redecorate, but it seemed as if she were speaking a foreign language for all the response he offered, her hips moving in a slow and lubricated dance about the room as her cheeks bounced tightly with each stab and gesture she made, her stomach flat and aching to be licked. "I'm going to head back down to the pool" she finished pointedly, "come on down when the spirit moves you. Rome wasn't built in a day you know."

His eyes locked on her body and seemed at first unable to rise above her navel to meet her eye. Barely able to control her delight she moved within a foot of him, inside of his personal zone and looking down into his eyes, a tad too close for conversation unless the parties were planning to touch intimately, given the proximity of his head to her crotch, so close that she could feel the heat of his body and his breath on her tummy.

She took his hand and slipped him a bottle of baby oil: "Gloria left an hour ago, would you be a sweetie?"

Turning without another word she bent forward over the ladder, her body assuming the position where one could comfortably take her from the rear, slightly on tiptoe, her legs parted, her back arched and her butt pushed out and upturned, each a tad more than necessary for a mere suntan oil application. Reaching behind her, she undid the clasp on her top while one hand kept it from falling from her boobs in the front, her one free hand soon balancing her on the ladder. He stood slowly and paused for a moment to adjust the bulge in his shorts as she pretended not to notice.

Her tan was unbroken from hours of nude sunbathing at her home pool; the thin tendrils of her top hung down her sides, graphically matching the wisps of hair that framed her face. She was growing increasingly wet and horny too, freely seeping through the cotton panel between her legs, and as he began, her hips enticingly began to sway ever so slightly from side to side.

Warm oil squirted liberally across her back before a strong hand tentatively massaged it from her shoulder blades to her lower back, stopping high up her spine and avoiding her sides leading to her breasts. No word passed between them as he did this; all he could do was think about her ass, pushed out to him like an offering. She straightened, reached a hand behind her, then another, and held together the back of her top. She turned to face him and to behold the throbbing monster pushing insistently against his denim shorts, one hand clumsily in front of him in a futile attempt to disguise the size and the uncontrollable pulsing that had overtaken it.

"Thank you Joey" she said, amused at the effect he had on him. She still had it, she thought. By now the snake trapped in his shorts had her near to drooling. The bottle of oil was still held at chest level in his other hand as he looked wide-eyed at her, pretty aware by now that he was either being seduced or mercilessly teased.

She let her top fall to the floor, her eyes never leaving his as he dropped his head to feast on her perfectly shaped breasts, deep red small nipples and areola, the skin of both crinkled and pulled tight with exhilaration on the tips of her firm round boobs. Grabbing his hand and the bottle of oil he held in it, she squeezed it hard, sending two warm streams of oil back and forth across her brown breasts like she was guiding his cock as he pissed on her. His hand was shaking perceptibly as she let go of the bottle and felt the oil running tantalizingly down over her globes.

"I sunbathe nude" she said rather nonchalantly, her eyes never leaving his, and his finding it hard to hold hers.

"Uh, sure" he said, obviously overcome.

"I'm sorry. I can put on a top for you if you want, Joey. But I usually oil myself; it's so nice to have someone do it for you" she said with a teasing pout as she took his free hand, pulled it up and just short of her left breast, initially touching his erection with the back of her hand as she grabbed his hand and pulled it into contact with her, "and it feels so. . . much. . . better. . ." she finished by slowly hissing each word like an understated Mae West.

"Mrs. Mayfield," he stuttered, torn by a bevy of emotions, "I'm sorry, it'll take a while to get used to, I mean, no, I don't mind at all, I'm just not used to it. They look great; I mean, you do too. You know what I mean"

"To boobs" she smiled, enjoying his display of discomfort, "Not used to boobs."

"Well not really, but, I mean, I've held some, I mean, and lots of pictures on the internet" he continued to stutter incoherently, finally asking "Did you really want me to paint your room?"

She took the bottle from his other hand, slipped it into the loose waist of his shorts like she was holstering a pistol and lay his other hand on her other breast as she leaned back against the ladder, asking with a husky sigh as she pushed out her chest: "well this isn't Connie'sBoobs.com, but you can figure it out from here, can't you?"

His hands timidly began to spread the baby oil over her taut breasts, first avoiding her nipples and finally realizing that he could not. He gave in and touched them. She encouraged him with a throaty exhale, her eyes fluttering as she drank in the sensation, her chest heaving upward to increase the force behind his startled massage as nature took over and he finally began to fondle her boobs, first one thumb to a nipple and then his hands kneading them as he stared mesmerized at his neighbor.

"Mmm," she growled as she dragged her nails over the muscles of his chest, focusing on one of his nipples, which she pinched lightly. She leaned into him for a kiss and softly bit his lower lip with her teeth, finally kissing him and enjoying his overheated, adolescent response to her overture.

"Slowly," she smiled as she pulled back, "gently, use your tongue and lips. Rough is, hmmm, nice, later, maybe."

They again kissed, this time softly, her in control with her hand behind his head on his neck, his hands now moving behind her to the small of her back as he pulled her slight frame into his and up onto her tiptoes, pushing his cock into her belly as they both exhaled throatily through their kiss, her hips grinding in a measured way into his as their embrace became fevered, their oily skin gliding chest on chest, flecks of dried paint pleasurably scratching them.

Grabbing the bottle of oil in a fit of inspiration she backed up a foot, pulled it from his shorts, inverted it, and pulling his waist band out an inch squirted the oil into the front of his pants, down over his briefs and tortured cock like she was squirting ketchup onto an unseen hotdog. As he closed his eyes in reaction she moved behind him and, pulling out the rear of his shorts, her fingers found the inside of his briefs as well this time and she again squirted oil into his shorts, this time straight down the crack of his bare ass. She smiled and moved back in front of him as she dropped the bottle to the floor, rivulets of oil now running down his legs.

Taking hold of the button on his shorts, she undid it, unzipped his fly and pulled his shorts down with both hands, three or four inches of his slick member jutting awkwardly out of and at an angle from his drenched underwear. She knelt and pulled his shorts down around his ankles, lifted his legs and pulled them off, one leg at a time. Unable to resist, she removed his Birkenstocks and bending prostrate with her ass in the air kissed the tops of his feet, each in turn. Staying submissively on her knees, she rose up and kissed the part of his cock still hidden in his underwear, inhaling the sweat of his crotch like it was a drug.

Shifting to his side, one hand on his cock, still trapped in his briefs, she slipped the other up and inside of them to grab a handful of his greased butt, her fingers deftly stroking up and down his ass as he began to breath heavily and his hips started to undulate and mimic haltingly the thrusting of sex.

Returning to his front, she stripped from him the sodden briefs, his cock heavily falling forward as the sweaty material resisted her attempts to slide gracefully from his legs, finally forcing her to kneel and pull them down to his ankles as they bunched and rolled, slapping against her face his remarkable manhood on the way back up to a standing position, his eyes drinking in the image of her rising from her knees in front of him while her hand luxuriated in his long, thick and glorious stiffness. She moved to his side and, one hand on his cock, one on his ass, deftly massaged him as she kissed one of his nipples and moved to face him. He groaned like a bull calf at the attention, his body not quite sure of whether to stiffen or melt into a puddle in her hands.

"Mrs.," he started to say as she touched the head and stroked his glans with her thumb, finishing with a growling "ooooo" as she did this, his abundant precum having amassed in a line of clear ooze plentiful enough to drip, helping her thumb to glide over his entire head, the large purple bulb swollen and imprinted with the cotton weave of his briefs.

She no longer thought she had to move quickly for fear he might bolt from the unnatural situation. In her hand his long hard cock was straining and near to bursting, and he looked so sexy standing there and, in a way, so innocent, his legs a creamy tan and hard with muscles from years of competitive swimming, and his butt; she couldn't wait to work on those globes and blow his inexperienced mind.

"It's ok" she said as she continued to stroke her thumb through the viscous fluid that oozed even more plentifully from his little hole, taking the time to taste it on her finger before returning it to his cock. "And, Constance" she whispered in his ear, answering to his attempt again to call her Mrs. Mayfield, as she nibbled on the lobe before swirling her tongue around and sending gooseflesh to bloom all over his upper torso, "remember, call me Constance. And after you cum in my mouth you can call me Connie" she finished with a conspiratorial purr in his ear and a wiggle of her wet tongue as if she were tongue-fucking him. He shuddered at the frank vulgarity as she bit her lower lip and rubbed her oiled nipples back and forth through his soft chest hairs.

"You know you can touch them again" she said; "they won't break" she continued as he stood frozen, apparently unable to summon the words to respond to her. Taking his hands in hers she again placed them on her breasts, one on each, whispering "be gentle at first. Later you can be rougher. Like your mouth. Ok sweetie?"

She could not imagine a more perfect body, especially from navel to knees. His stomach was like a ribbed washboard, hard and soft at the same time. She wanted him just to stand and pose for a bit so that she could lick him from his feet to his ears, pose like a model or a Greek god allowing his submissive slave the pleasure of cleansing and pleasuring his soiled body. Soft light brown curls trailed a path from his navel to his pubic hair, which was full and slightly darker than those that saw the light of day. Below his cock large balls hung low in sacks of darker skin that resembled aged leather. And then there was the main attraction, 8" or more she thought—she wondered if he ever had measured it--and thick with a large head, long and slightly curved, with one or two prominent purple veins wrapping slightly around and running almost the full length.

She felt the blood pulsing through these veins, the involuntary muscle spasms from her touch. He looked so long and powerful in her petite hand; her fingers looked tiny wrapped around his shaft. He almost had enough cock for two men. I'm going to be sore after this she mused as her hands danced over his body and she contemplated her next move.

Gripping him at the base only covered several inches, still leaving a long, beautiful shaft. Two hands covered over half of him; three of her petite hands might still leave his head unwrapped at the top she daydreamed as she stroked, saving the large head, the big plug of warm meat for her throat. And Constance Mayfield loved to suck. At home alone sometimes she would masturbate with her fingers while she corked her mouth with a fleshy, lifelike dildo she had first dipped into her pussy, always wishing it were larger and that it could cum along with her and squirt down her throat at the same time.

Looking up and into his eyes she said as she played, turning away from him and backing into his cock, moving her hips back and forth as she wiggled her tangerine butt on his dripping meat and then turning full circle again to face him, taunting him mercilessly, her voice in a husky whisper "you have a beautiful cock Joey. How many girlfriends have you had? Intimate ones."

He seemed to snap out of his reverie, his hands again resting inertly on her breasts like he had suddenly been given a quiz: "just two, both at college; one local but we went there together" he quickly responded, "But a couple of girls have used their hands on me before. They weren't really girlfriends. They sort of picked me up at parties."

So she wasn't the first local girl to have the pleasure of this dance. "Tell me what you did with the serious ones" she said as she moved her hand to the tip and wrapped it just below the head, now stroking his full length to feel it. He moaned and closed his eyes, his fingers and eventually his hands finally moving to slide across her nipples in the slick oil as he drank in the sensation of her stroking, "how many fucked you" she finished, "how many sucked your cock. What did you do with them?"

"Just normal stuff" he said, returning to her question, like maybe he feared what abnormal activities his neighbor had in mind for the day, activities that he obviously was not running from.

"Well, I pretty much like normal stuff too."

She paused for effect, one hand now tickling his large dangling sack, saying the words 'lick' and 'balls' with a hard edge to jolt him: "Did those girls ever lick your balls Joey?"

"That's all I did with one, just once. She was kinda' new at it, I think, so was I though. She said I was too big to put in her mouth. One did me with her mouth; she had a big mouth" he said matter-of-factly. "The other we did it for real. She was kinda' noisy and had a big pu. . . you know. Shouldn't I have a rubber on now" and here he paused, "Constance."

"You can say pussy, Joey. Relax. I guess too she was noisy; you have a big, beautiful cock, Sweetie. I bet she screamed her full head off" she said, moving to whisper the words into his ear. "And there's no need for that here honey. Would you like to feel your bare dick sucked" she said as her hand fluttered up and down his shaft, barely making contact with him, as he began to react by squirming and thrusting his hips in her direction, a moan escaping his lips.

"I'll take that as a yes" she smiled as she went down onto the dirty floor, her knees resting in the plaster and paint chips like a whore in a crack house blowing some stranger for a dime bag. The thought excited her. They smelled like a man's balls smell after he has exercised, an odor that both repulsed and excited her. James, when he was younger, would work out at the gym, only to come home and make her kneel to 'lick his sweaty balls' before she sucked his dick. She developed a taste for such subservience and gravitated eventually to wrist restraints and slight humiliation—very occasionally more in the shower, more to her liking than James'--that she and James would trade off doing to each other. But this one was too young to do that with she mused.

"I'm a mess right now; you don't have to do that if you don't want" he said chivalrously.

"Oh but I do want to" she whispered throatily before she popped his balls into her mouth one at a time, her nose buried in the flesh at the base of his cock that rested on her forehead in that position, one hand between his legs dragging her nails down his cheeks to grab a hand full of skin and muscle. He groaned and his hips flexed almost involuntarily as she licked the salty sweat from his sack and reveled in the weight of his dick as it rested on her head.

"Just watch me for a second" she said, her eyes heavy-lidded, "just watch me."

She backed away and stayed on her knees, oiling her breasts some more as she began to play with them, her arms and her armpits, closing and opening her eyes as she became more aroused and her breathing hastened, her eyes becoming heavier lidded as he looked at her in astonishment, his hand absentmindedly wandering to the base of his dick as he leaned against the ladder and watched her masturbate for him and he began to respond in kind.

She let her hair down and leaned back, her ass resting on her heels, loosening and removing her bottoms. His eyes grew wide as he watched in astonishment, like a virgin watching a porn movie for the first time. With one hand she traced a trail in the oil, between her boobs and soon through her navel and down to her clit, where she closed her eyes and her breathing became rapid as her fingers dredged through the lips of her pussy. She brought her hand to her mouth and cleaned her fingers like a cat, now dropping her hand again to service her needs and stroke her wet lips, her head starting to roll on her shoulders like a stripper off of the pole and about to give the audience a look at her orgasm, one hand behind her and tickling the crack of her ass.