Flatmating

After a few minutes he pulled away and pushed me back onto the bed. I swivelled so that my legs were on the bed an I parted them, offering myself to him. He gestured to my knickers and made a 'gimme' gesture. Without a moment's hesitation I hooked my thumbs into their waistband, wantonly lifted my arse and pulled them under, then down my legs and off. I tossed them to Zac and, smiling, he caressed his cheek with them and said "Mmmm...nice and warm".

Then he was on top of me. His hard young cock was pressed against my belly as his lips met mine and our tongues danced together. His firm hands were caressing my skin and my arms were around his well-toned muscular body, pulling him to me, gripping his strong arms. His mouth moved to my neck, then down to my breasts, nibbling my now rock-hard nipples and sending shockwaves of pleasure lancing to my groin.

Slowly, slowly, agonisingly and deliciously slowly he kissed his way down the loose flesh of my belly, his hands drifting down my flanks to my hips, anticipation building, heightening, swelling; my breath getting faster along with the pounding in my chest until, at last, his tongue insinuated itself between my pussy lips and I let out a sudden gasp. God, I must have been so wet! Rolling over my clit before driving down to the entrance to my pussy over and over and over again he was making me feel like a teenager again, experimenting, learning how different guys treat you and seek out what makes you feel good. More than that, though, his tongue was driving me closer, closer with every lap or tease or roll, closer to an orgasm that promised to be a proper explosion. I was rolling and panting on this young man's bed.

Then he stopped

He sat up on his haunches, his hard gorgeous black cock standing proud and priapic from his groin. "So, Mrs Field", he said, stroking that sensitive parts in my hip cage. "What do you want?"

"I want you inside me," I replied, my eyes on his cock.

"You can say it simpler than that," he said with a grin.

I held his eyes with mine and stroked his firm abdomen and said, aiming for 'huskily', "Fuck me".

He guided the swollen head of his rigid shaft up and down the cleft between my pussy lips for what seemed like an age, wringing sensations of pleasure and need from a part of me that had felt too neglected for too long; singing to me of the nights when I was young and sometimes went back with the guy I'd been dancing with after a party. And then, with a gasp-inducing gentle but insistent thrust, he was inside me. I thrust my legs wide apart, my toes already curling, and let him take me; fill me; fuck me.

I remember biting my lip, as if this was my first time, as he began to move inside me. I cupped his arse with my hands, feeling it dimpling and flexing as he drove himself into me then relaxing as he retreated; as every movement jangled nerves in my already stimulated pussy. He started so slowly, so tenderly and so teasingly slowly, eliciting gasps from me responding to to the signals I was sending as I raked his back with my nails: "Harder!"

His pace picked up and he started pounding his thick young cock deeper and deeper into me. Shit, it was good. With every thrust he stretched me a little more inside - not so it hurt, but that it filled me; filled me like surgeon's hand fills his glove. It's been a long time since that happened. Dimly I was aware that I was panting, yelling out, yelling out my need for him to bring me to where I hadn't been for way too long. Surges of pleasure were welling up from my clit as the base of his cock ground against it and I was dimly aware that I was yelling out my need for release and keening out the pleasure that was rolling out of my groin.

And then I was there. Fuck, I came so hard. I have no idea what I was yelling, what I was begging for. I just know that it felt so damned good; it felt good in a way I haven't felt since - well, way too long.

Then he pulled out of me. For a moment I was confused. Had he seen to many porn films involving older women like me? Was he going to cum on my face or my tits? My mind was whirling. How did I feel about that? It had been a very long time since I had had to process and deal with questions like that.

As it was, though, his strong, dark hands planted themselves on the crests of my hips and guided me onto my stomach then, coaxingly, lifted them so that I was on all fours. "You want more?" he asked casually. Right then I wasn't sure. I was still quivering and my pussy was so sensitive. He was stroking the head of his cock up and down, past my entrance and teasing my now so sensitive clit, eliciting jolts of insane pleasure or, at least, sensations I hadn't experienced for a very, very long time. "YES!"

Then he was inside me again. His thick, hard shaft was ploughing me. God! That was when I remembered what it was to be fucked by a young, strong man who just wanted me; who wanted to have fun with me without all the reservations that come with with relationships. The fun that comes with the primal need for sex. Almost immediately I collapsed onto the bed. Maybe, at first it was my arms that gave way, but my legs went slowly after. Soon I was a juddering , shaking, gibbering body floundering as he ground my clit against the sheets of his bed and as his cock thundered into my pussy. Oh God how I was loving it! I was loving the sheer, uncomplicated thrills of pleasure. I was loving the scent that had gathered in the air of sweat and sex and need. I was shrieking and laughing and filled with sheer incandescent joy.

When he came he collapsed on my trembling body, roaring into my left ear as with thrust....thrust....thrust he propelled himself all the way to my cervix and I felt the heart-warming warmth of his young, vital seed coursing into my quivering, married pussy summoning sensations I hadn't felt since Steven was conceived. We lay there gasping and he tumbled off me to my right. His strong arm wrapped itself over me and cupped my left breast and I snuggled into him, my ass to his softening cock.

I think I nodded off. Whatever, it seemed a moment later I felt him hard between my buttocks and so warm curved around my back. I rolled over and pushed him over onto his back. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and said, "You want something, Mrs Field?"

"I think you can call me Kelly now" I said as I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and threw myself over his slim young hips, rising up over them and guiding the head of night-black head of his cock to my still-wet entrance. "You fucked me, so fair's fair". With that I impaled myself on him, my still-tingling channel singing as it stretched around him, my ample arse planting itself on his thighs. I shuddered with lust and delight as slowly I started to ride him.

Slowly, deliciously at first, guiding his hands to my breasts, gasping as his fingers tightened around my nipples I rose and fell on his shaft. He chuckled and started thrusting upward to match my movements as sweat beaded on his chest. I stroked them away and ran my hands over his firm young abdomen and laughed with sheer unbridled joy as we fucked the way I remember fucking after parties and nights out when I found myself in strange flats and strange beds all those years ago.

Then faster, grinding forward and back, guiding his hand again, this time between us to find my aching clit. His strong finger curled upward and over it and teased it, cajoled it, fell aside and ground it between its neighbour. My arse was grinding back and forth faster and faster, more and more urgently as thrills and sweet sensations soared from my groin, up my spine and began to shine behind my eyes. Oh My God, I thought, I am going to cum so hard.

"Kelly!" He gasped, his fit trembling young body bucking under me, "I'm gonna cum". He was tossing from side to side. And I threw myself harder onto his thrusting cock, sensations swelling and growing and swirling and surging from my groin to my abdomen to my chest to my brain and I howled out my orgasm as felt him swelling inside me and pumping yet more semen into my undulating spasming pussy.

Panting I fell off him and laughed lustfully "Oh my God!" I gasped, panting on the bed beside him. He was breathing heavily next to me, his sweat covered chest rising and falling, a sheen of refracted light on his black skin. "Oh Shit, Kelly. That was amazing," he said and smiled a broad white-toothed smile.

"I'd better go" I said at last. "I have stuff I need to do at home. Can I use your shower before I go?"

"No," he said, and laughed. "It runs a bit hot at first." I got up from his sweat-soaked bed and staggered to the shower. As I stood under its jets of hot water I started to feel twinges of guilt. I started to think about Sam and about our marriage and about how I'd just bedded my son's flatmate. It was wrong - so wrong - but the tremors that reverberated in my groin and in my stomach still thrilled me as the water cascaded over my body.

I came back to Zac's bedroom. He was still lying there on his bed, his dark young body standing out proud from the white sheets. I looked around the room. "I can't find my knickers" I said, my face flushing.

"You gave them to me," Zac said. "They're mine now. Feel free to take a replacement pair". He pointed to the top drawer of the dresser and I opened it. I took out a pair of grey boxer shorts and put them on. "These?" I asked and we both laughed. I got dressed as Zac phoned for a taxi. A few minutes later Zac's door buzzer rang. "Taxi for Mrs Kelly".

"Look," Zac said, taking my arm as I walked toward the door. "After Steve comes back, if your husband's away and if you want...if you want.. you know... give me a call." Then his door was open, the taxi driver was outside and I was following him down the stairs to his cab. All the way home I felt the cab driver's eyes on me in the rear view mirror. Did he know what had gone on in that flat, that bedroom, between me and that young man? Was that a smirk I could see in the rear view mirror? Could he see the hem of Zac's boxer shorts under my short skirt? Could he smell - No! I'd showered, right?

So that was a week ago. Since then Sam's been been back. We slept together in our bed. He's rolled over a couple of times and said he's tired. So have I. And I've got to wondering if he has - you know - women at the places he drops off his loads. Of course he does. Maybe he doesn't. I don't know! All I know is that a few minutes ago I retrieved Zac's boxers from their hiding place under the mattress and held them, pensively, in my hand. Now my phone is in my hand and there's a deep brown voice replying, "Hi, this is Zac. Who's calling?"

"Hi. This is Kelly. You know what you said...?"