tagMatureCarol Ch. 01

Carol Ch. 01

byvelvet hammer©

It was my Mom's friend Angelique who introduced me to Carol, incredibly enough.

"You're a fully grown man now, Sean," she said. "You'll be graduating college soon, and you're going places. My friends Hank and Carol are looking for the right kind of young person for their business, a kind of a protege.

"Play your cards right and this could be the right kind of introduction into the world of business; the kind of opportunity that comes along once in a lifetime.

"Opportunity knocks but once, you know."

Angelique took me to a cafe downtown, nice but not too ostentatious, expensive but not swank. Decor was minimalist; the focus was on the menu and service. The place was laid out, acoustics were such the impression was of privacy, in a big, low-lit hall.

The maître d' seated us in the upper loft area, which afforded them even more exclusiveness. I looked around; the walls were covered with a sort of burlap-type fabric that seemed to absorb sound, objets d'art were displayed in niches, individually spot-lighted.

"Oh here's Carol now," Angelique said.

I was able to drink her in as she climbed the stairs to meet me; a stunning brunette, with sparkling gray-green eyes. A very pretty face, I wouldn't say big in the chest but a pleasantly full, slender waist, well rounded hips and a nice pair of long legs that went from well-muscled thighs down to a dainty set of narrow ankles. I guessed she was about five foot eleven, more in her high heels; a very hot item, even for a woman in her middle-age.

Her outfit screamed money, especially the perfect cream silk skirt and jacket. Her skirt was short but not too short, tight over her ass, showing the lace tops her stockings. A low cut tight blouse under her top revealed a glimpse of lace; where her generous pair filled out the scalloped of her bra.

A simple strand of pearls disappeared into the valley of her cleavage.

The glimpses of lace - her stocking tops, the edges of the cups of her bra - were a pleasant distraction, almost a tease. Carol carried herself with a definite sense of style; sophisticated, experienced, almost seductive. I envied her husband - her figure spoke of exciting things in the bedroom department.

She offered me her hand, in such a way it was almost as if she expected me to kiss it. As a prospective mentor, I was unsure if this was the correct thing to do, and so we just did one of those girl-type handshakes, where you just hold the fingers.

Angelique and Carol did that kissee-kissee thing that women can get away with, and soon afterward Angelique excused herself.

"Here, sit next to me here," Carol said, patting the seat next to her. "There's a glare behind you and I can't see your face."

As I moved around the table Carol revealed the kind of tactical sense that obviously helped project her to the higher echelons of business. "When you're with me you needn't be sitting with your back to the door."

"I've been talking to Angelique about you," Carol continued, "She tells me you are just the young man I'm looking for."

Her hand dropped to my lap and went straight to my cock. Her bold move took me by surprise.

I jumped. Her reaction was to grip my stiffening member lightly through the cloth of my trousers.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No" I exclaimed

"I didn't think I was hurting you, it feels excited to me," she said as began a light, tantalizing stroking of my cock through my trousers. She leaned forward, dropping to hushed, urgent tones.

"I'm married to a sixty-year-old man, whom I love: I will never leave him.

"But I'm forty and horny; I need sexual release. I want discrete no-strings-attached love.

"If you can give me what I want and can keep your mouth shut about it, I am willing in return to give you wild, uninhibited sex.

"You can do what ever you like with me in the bedroom."

She continued rubbing my now highly-excited, hard boner, "I will be for you everything every man wants or desires in a woman. I will be your slut, your fuck-toy . . . as long as you satisfy me . . ."

By now I was squirming in my seat; my hard-on was straining against the cloth of my trousers as she continued to stroke me under the table. I moved to unfastened my belt, to unzip my fly.

"Not here," she said quietly, "I have a place."

She glanced down at the wet spot at the bulge in my trousers, caused by the pre-cum that was flowing freely from the head of my cock. My balls were in a uproar. The gentle touch of her delicate fingers was torture on my hot rod.

"Hmmm. Will you last?"

"Not much longer," I whispered furtively.

"Hmmm." Carol looked about, then reached down with both hands and freed my straining cock.

The feeling was almost as good as an orgasm as my swollen, red cock sprung forth, free at last. The cool air felt fantastic on my tortured flesh.

Carol regarded the hard cock poking straight up from my lap, bold, impudent. She traced her delicate fingertips up and down my length.

"You're beautiful," she whispered. She looked about once more, then parted her lips and slowly she lowered her face into my lap.

Carol wrapped her lips around my cock, taking me deep into her wet mouth. She let her saliva drool down all over my cock to slicken it up as she slowly began to gently jack me off into her mouth. I was putty in her hands.

The waitress chose this very moment to appear. Her eyes grew wide as she became aware of what was happening: the distinguished, well-dressed lady bent over, head in my lap with my cock in her mouth, going down on me like a professional prostitute.

I was dying; I was in heaven. I gave the waitress a glassy-eyed grin, almost shrugged, like, "What the hell can I do?"

The girl beat a hasty retreat.

Carol continued with her stroking and sucking - I was very near, it wouldn't take much more – Carol delivered a series of butterfly licks, drooled some more slobber all over it, then a few quick flicks of the wrist and I was spurting in her mouth.

Carol swallowed, kept her lips sealed around my rod and continued with her gentle stroking as I pulsed a few more times into her mouth. She kept me in her mouth for a while, sucking me clean. At long last she sat up, leaned back and smiled at me. A glob of jizz lay splattered across the side of her cheek; a shiny, glossy line.

Carol inspected herself in her compact mirror. With a dainty finger she scooped the dollop of jizz into her mouth, licked her finger clean. It was a gesture that was incredibly crude, and yet incredibly ladylike all at the same time. Finally she turned to me and spoke.

"As long as you satisfy me, I will be a generous lover.

"But that's all we will ever be - lovers."

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