An English Matron Ch. 03

We'd obviously missed what we were watching on the telly so we turned in for the night. We lay there naked, she caressing my chest. I was a bit drained after such a fantastic session and not desperately eager for another go. Elizabeth had other ideas and of course wanted some action herself as I'd not really touched her in our evening play. My chest is moderately hairy and she moved her hand across it ruffling the hairs and circling my nipples with her nails. Sometimes she would move lower to stroke my belly and then back up up my chest. She started very gently rubbing my nipples without tweaking them. I started to harden as her hands got a little more adventurous. So far it was just a massage but an incredible turn on.

She leaned over and started kissing my chest and then my belly and then even lower when she took my balls in turn into her mouth and then kissed right along my shaft. She moved up again and climbed up. Straddling me she leaned forwards and we kissed long and deep and passionately. She broke off only to nuzzle each side of my head, nibbling my ear lobes and dragging her teeth gently down my neck. She returned for another long wet kiss. My tongue ached and I thought my cock was going to burst it was so hard.

"Take me please," she murmured as she adjusted her hips and moving backwards impaled herself on my dick which felt as if it was made of tungsten steel. I raised my thighs slightly and we started a comfortable jog. Leaning forward on her forearms she kissed me again, her soft large breasts dangling low and brushing my chest. They felt as they always do slightly cool against my skin. She let me dictate the tempo of our motion and we rocked away for some time. Having been drained only a couple of hours earlier I felt I could go on all night. The bedside light was on low so we could see each other and she gazed steadily into my eyes. Her lined face looked quite beautiful with her red lipstick, slightly smudged from our passion, adding to her aged loveliness.

Then she got distracted by what was happening inside her. She started gasping and I increased the pace slightly. She sat back. My dick was more at right-angles to me so a little uncomfortable but the extra tension and friction took her to the next level. I played with her tits, pulling her nipples ever so slightly. She was starting to go in her own little world at this point and then I had an idea. I took my hands from her breasts and put one forwards under the folds of her lower belly finding her clit and gently pressed on it with my thumb. It seemed like a booster rocket for her orgasm and she bounced up and down moaning as she came. She came back down on her forearms to embrace and kiss me again and I grasped her buttocks for one last heave as I emptied myself into her.

After we'd cleaned up she wanted to talk lovey-dovey stuff but I let myself drift off to sleep as soon as I could. The subject of the bloody wedding was bound to come up and the way she was behaving my resistance was crumbling. Besides she'd completely emptied me and my balls were aching slightly. I needed some sleep to recover.

The next day we decided to go out to the country. Birmingham is a big city and not particularly attractive although about this time the city council had just redeveloped the centre and had made quite a good job of it. The surrounding countryside was very pleasant. Tolkien had grown up here nearly a hundred years ago and many of the more pastoral scenes in the Lord of the Rings were based on his childhood memories of the villages, farms and woods just outside the city. We got there late morning and Elizabeth took me on one of her favourite walks. It was a pleasant and sunny spring day.

One of the great advantages about going out with a woman of her generation was her preference for stockings over trousers or tights or even bare legs. Elizabeth had very shapely calves and tended to wear loose skirts (sometimes dresses) that finished just below the knee and swirled provocatively around her legs. Today she was wearing sheer very light brown stockings (and suspenders I had good reason to believe) and a floral print dress that flared and moved just how I liked it to do. She was also wearing a simple white top that showed her well upholstered breasts to great advantage and of course a knitted white cardigan - not really sexy at all but beloved by English women of her age.

We strolled for an hour often hand in hand talking of this and that but not the wedding and came through the wood we'd been ambling in to a small village. It was a typical English scene, not picture postcard, but pleasant enough with a couple of pubs and an old church. We had lunch in the pub and then another desultory stroll to walk off the pie and the pint. Our walk was circular and it brought us back to the church. Elizabeth said she liked churchyards and we wandered in. It was deserted - no funerals today although all the graves were quite old and I couldn't see any new gravestones.

We stood beneath an old tree, probably yew as I think they are common in English churchyards, and started to kiss: gently and affectionately at first and then more passionately. We had made love that morning (nothing special to report, I'd brought her off with my fingers and then rolled on top and gave her a good old-fashioned missionary position fuck) but now I was ready for more. I started to gently caress her breasts.

"Not in a churchyard!" she whispered

I did not reply but peeled off her cardigan and carried on gently moving my hands over her bosom trying to tease the nipples into standing up and never taking my eyes off her face. Soon she got too aroused for this and taking my hands down reached up to kiss me as if this would cool me down! I returned the kiss, slowly and passionately and moved my ever-straying hands down to her hips and then her buttocks. She raised her thigh slightly pressing between my legs where she must have felt may hardness. I raised her skirt and slip and put the back of my hand against her crotch, enjoying the bare flesh of her thighs above her stocking tops and the soft satiny feel of her panties. I rubbed the knuckle of my big finger over the material feeling her hair underneath and her warm moist cleft within.

"Really, really we can't," she said but made no effort to stop me.

I started rubbing her a little bit faster and harder but not roughly and she clutched my dick underneath my trousers. At the same time were kissing with abandon but I slowly broke off. I reached under skirt with my other hand and pulled her panties off. I stuffed them in my coat pocket before returning to her wonderful warm and now quite wet pussy. By this time she had unzipped me and had her hand round my shaft although she had not yet brought it out into the light of day. The tree had too many branches to lean against and I manoeuvred her against some stonework as my dick came free. It sloped a little so we had a slight angle to lean against. I raised her skirt again and my cock glided in her - she really was sopping wet. It was a little bit tricky as my cock was still a little encumbered by my zip and pants but I thrust away, my legs slightly bent to accommodate the difference in height. Elizabeth squirmed against me, wrapped both arms around my neck whilst I picked her up by her thighs which she clasped around mine. I hoped both of us would come soon because at her age she wasn't too athletic and although I was quite strong she was also quite heavy. We rocked and squirmed for a few minutes establishing a not quite steady rhythm. I could hear from her slight gasps and feel from the pressure from her arms that she was well on the way to satisfaction. A couple of erotic squawks from her let me know that she had indeed arrived and I followed only a couple of thrusts behind her. This was quite hurried sex by our standards but we were right in the open and quite conscious that at any moment we might be disturbed.

We straightened ourselves out and smoothed our clothes down. Elizabeth draped her cardie over her handbag and did not put it back on as we were quite warm now. I then noticed what would have been obvious had we not been otherwise distracted namely that the "stonework" we'd been leaning on was actually a gravestone. It had moved slightly over the years and was not perpendicular and the angle had given us a slightly easier hump than if it had been straight. The lettering was a little weathered but I could make out it belonged to one Albert Edward Swinney, born 1852, died 1894. Various other family names were inscribed as well. I'm not pious but I did feel a little uncomfortable at the disrespect we had just shown.

As we were leaving we came across the vicar! Elizabeth, quite shamelessly I thought, struck up conversation with him. He told us how old the church was (late 17th century) and how it had been mentioned in some poem by an English poet I'd vaguely heard of (Congreve or Coleridge I think). Elizabeth, who was very well read, was quite intrigued and talked to the old boy at some length about it all. I stood by amused and quite shocked at her brazenness having just profaned sacred ground in the way we had. I idly wondered whether I could write a poem about our experiences. The first line could run: "I shagged her on the gravestone of Albert Edward Swinney" I gave up after that because I couldn't think of anything to rhyme with "Swinney" except "skinny" and that word didn't really apply to Elizabeth.

We said our goodbyes to the vicar and went back through the woods to where we had parked our car. I ticked her off for being so two-faced.

"I'm not ashamed and anyway you led me on. Besides I'm sure that he did not suspect anything," she said completely illogically.

It was then I noticed that the lichen and moss from the gravestone had rubbed off on to the back of her pristine white top. It looked like she'd definitely been up to something. I pointed it out to her and we laughed heartily although she was a little annoyed about the smudges.

We went home. Elizabeth was very fastidious and changed out of her dirty clothes. I noticed she'd put on a different darker pair of stockings. We had a good meal and the turned in early. It had been a good day. A good sleep, sex, exercise, good food, exercise, sex and good food. What better to end the day than some more sex? And she hadn't pestered me about going to the wedding at all.

"Keep your stockings and suspenders on tonight please," I asked her and she obliged.

The stockings were really nice ones, very smooth and a sexy smoky grey colour. As we lay in bed together with the covers down Elizabeth moved her feet up and down my legs. She moved one foot all the way up and started caressing my cock. I got very hard. She moved forward, grabbed my cock with one hand and planted a slow deep kiss on the end. I remembered last night's blow job. Was I going to get another one? She went to work expertly, on her knees by my side, her head over my cock, one hand grasping the throbbing member and the other propping her self up on the bed.

"It will be easier this way," she said as she swung one leg over and straddled me with her back to my face.

Her feet were near my face and I started licking her toes and rubbing my face on the soles of her feet. I moved my hands up her calves, lightly raking the skin without ruffling the sheer stockings. She wasn't just sucking my cock now. Her free hand had reached down below my balls and touched my perineum and then lower still towards my butt. I raised my thighs to give her freer access and started to move my hands over her thighs above her stocking tops.

Elizabeth started fingering my butt hole then pumped and sucked my cock slowly. Not to be outdone I started fingering her pussy and I was soon able to get two fingers inside her and start pumping her. She returned to my rose bud and circled it with her fingers, pressing in without actually inserting. I gazed up at her white thighs with little blue veins in them and then up to her wrinkly hairy pussy and raised my self up to kiss it. I tried to find her clit with my tongue and pulled her hips down so that she was more or less squatting but not sitting on my face. I found her clit with my fingertips and ever so gently caressed it. Soon I saw or felt it contract and quiver as she orgasmed and moved in with my tongue again. I was now totally immersed in her femininity as I wallowed in her taste, her smell and the closeness of her sacred parts and I emptied myself into her mouth.

We cuddled a little but I soon drifted off to sleep. Outwardly she was a respectable English matron but she was acting like a whore in the bedroom and milking me dry. I hoped I had some sperm left for tomorrow.

I woke up the next morning in an even more relaxed and good humoured state than I had the previous morning. Elizabeth's bed was very comfortable. The room was not at all to my taste -- far too much chintz and frills and I particularly objected to the frills on my pillow. But the bed itself was soft and easy to sleep in and the room warm. Elizabeth was half awake too. Old ladies don't look their best in the morning but her sweet, if lined face was a pleasure to see and she still had her lipstick on from the night before. Anyway she didn't look too bad and I was turned on even more when she snuggled up to me and started caressing my chest again.

"I wont need a new suit anyway. I've got one that's perfectly good for the wedding," I said boldly and probably foolishly

"You mean you will come?"

"Might as well I suppose."

"Oh, thank you, thank you!". She was really, really pleased and snuggled closer.

I knew as soon as I said it that it was a mistake. I knew also that she had been extra sweet to me this weekend to persuade me to go. Well it had worked. There was no long term future for Elizabeth and I and going to weddings and things like that would only make the eventual break up even harder. However I was committed to this at least and as usual I put off any disturbing and uncomfortable thoughts for later.

Another reason for not thinking uncomfortable thoughts was that Elizabeth's hands had started to wander again. She was stroking my cock and my balls. "Christ ,she's insatiable!" I thought although part of me knew that this was also part of her stratagem to make herself as desirable and accommodating as possible. I turned on my side towards her and we kissed while she continued to massage and caress my member. I stoked her large white breasts and moved my head down to take one in my mouth. Our difference in heights meant that this move made her lose contact with my cock but meant that I in turn could massage and caress her private area.

When she was wet enough I moved on top of her -- my cock was begging to get inside her again. An observation, but not a criticism I would make about Elizabeth is that she did not have a tight pussy. After all she'd given birth to two children and she was getting on in years. So there was quite a bit of room - as I said before not a criticism just an observation. One way to make her a little tighter was to get her to close her legs so that she lay between my legs and not the other way round. This produced the desired increase in tightness for both of us and I thrust away with gusto. She lay back smiling at me and never taking her eyes off mine. Her big boobs wobbled and quivered in the periphery of my vision as I thrust away. I broke off our gaze and watched them undulate on top of her chest. Her nipples were big and pink. I looked her in the face and she smiled that sexy and quite dirty smile she wore in our most intimate moments and that triggered my eruption inside her. I rolled off her wondering whether she had also come but she seemed very content.

Eventually she got up to make breakfast and I had a shower. She had some housework to do so I went and got the Sunday papers. After hoovering and dusting or whatever it is that women do when they do housework she went off to get washed and dressed as well. We were going out to lunch before I went home but it was still only mid-morning so we had plenty of time. While she was gone I reflected on our early morning lovemaking. I doubted now whether she had orgasmed. She had moaned and made the sort of right noises but I didn't think she had gone all the way. Now I know that there is more to sex than just some orgasmic score-keeping and I'd certainly given her what she wanted and needed in all our other lovemaking sessions. Moreover Elizabeth was not the sort of person to resent it if she missed out on the odd occasion. Nevertheless my honour was piqued and I determined to address the situation if I could and soon.

Elizabeth came back into the room fully dressed and smart with it. She always dressed elegantly (if at times a trifle old-fashioned). She didn't really do casual and she certainly didn't do scruffy -- unlike me for whom casual and scruffy was what I did best. Perhaps it was the attraction of opposites that made it work for us. Today she had on a white knitted top which I did not like. It was too loose to show off her ample figure to any advantage and it was a bit boring. The lower half was not boring at all. She wore a black pleated skirt that unusually for her came just above the knees and sheer black stockings. This was definitely a turn on. I wondered what colour underwear she had on. She normally did white but black was also a possibility.

I've mentioned that Elizabeth lived in a flat in a big old house. It was a Victorian terraced house and had had a lot of work done to it over the years and had some architectural peculiarities. One of these was the window of the living room. It had originally been a bay window, two stories up and it overlooked some quite attractive parkland. However the entrance to the bay had been walled or boxed up to about 3' 6" in height so that you could not walk into it. A large shelf sat on top and Elizabeth kept some plants and ornaments there but otherwise it was dead space. I've seen it done in other large houses and never understood why. Anyway the point of this architectural diversion is that Elizabeth often used to lean against it and look out the window. It was high enough for her to rest her arms on it as neighbours might do on a garden fence whilst chatting. However it was not very high and she was quite a tall woman so she had to lean a little lower to get comfortable with her butt sticking out more than it otherwise would have done.

So she was quite innocently leaning on the shelf watching the world go by while I read the paper. As she leaned forward I caught more of her thighs than I normally did outside of the bedroom. I came up behind her and put my arms around her, she stood up and I nuzzled her neck.

"What can you see?" I asked.

"I just like looking at the park -- its very peaceful"

I stood by her side and looked out. A woman was exercising her dogs. They were high-spirited Irish setters and gambolled and raced all over the place. I moved to Elizabeth's side with my arm still around her waist and watched the scene. After a while I dropped my hand and started moving my hand over her broad hips and fondled her bum. This went on for some time and she eased herself forward leaning with her elbows on the big bay window shelf. I took this as a sign to proceed with my dirty plan.

Dropping on my knees behind her I raised her skirt and under-slip to rest on her back and knelt back to gaze with erotic wonder on the awesome and cock-stiffening sight that was Elizabeth's butt. Her legs encased in her sheer black stockings gave way to her white thighs and then her white panties which were made of some sort of elasticated satiny material that gave support to her tummy. A white garter belt held up the stockings. From an aesthetic point of view I'm not sure the white garters and panties went with the black stockings but my cock told me aesthetics be damned! I put my hands on the great globes that were her buttocks and lightly stroked and caressed them, making sure that my finger strayed to her cleft and between her legs as often as they could. I put my teeth a against each bun and nibbled and nuzzled and rubbed my face against them. Although sensuous the elastic material was too tight and inhibiting me from getting any closer to the object of my desire. They had to come off but before I did that I drew the back of my finger repeatedly between her legs and massaging her bush and the other cleft beneath until the slight friction told me that things were getting a little damp there.