Fuzzy Flight Pt. 03

We peeked out of the crack between the fibreboard plates looking for a slack in the traffic outside of the small cubicle and tried to make as discreet an escape as possible. My mature friend proved remarkably adept at this and soon strode on alongside busy travellers in a very confident manner with me struggling to keep pace behind her.

My eyes were transfixed on her lovely round bottom and her swaying hips, now decently covered by her soft sweater-dress, but only a few minutes ago bare and available for my kisses, my tongue and my roaming hands. She had used her panties to clean my semen off her boots, and it was and added thrill for me to know that she was now bare "down there".

We soon found our luggage on the conveyor belt at the baggage claim area -- we were the last passengers from our flight there. I handled the trolley, hiding my soiled trousers behind the knitted mohair coat that I had folded over the handle bar.

Any plans I might have had for my arrival in this town and accommodation near the campus were soon forgotten. She had taken control, and I eagerly followed. She seemed so confident.

She expertly hailed a taxi and I shared the back seat with her with her lovely soft coat in my lap. After having given the taxi driver the address, she explained to me that she lived not far from campus and did, in fact, have a spare room that would be perfect for a young student like me.

"The rent will be minimal," she assured me. "You will have your own room and the freedom to come and go as you please. I will only need your assistance with some trifling matters - that is all. I will not take no for an answer."

I stuttered my thanks and stroked the coat in my lap. It felt so warm and lovely. I thought about her nakedness under her sweater-dress, admired how the knitted material formed itself after her shape and showed off her full bosom. I would love to stroke her -- her arms, her thighs and especially her breast covered in that soft, fluffy wool. But for now I just held on to her coat and fantasized.

She reached out and pulled me closer to her, gently scratching my neck and my chin with her long red nails, thereby removing any misgivings I might have had.

I loved her long nails. Their blood red colour contrasted lovely with her deep blue shade of her woollen dress, and their considerable length made them extra conspicuous. I once heard some psychologist maintain that women wore high heels and grew long nails to look vulnerable and helpless and thus appeal to the "knight" in us males.

With me it is the other way around. I find women in really high heels taller, mightier and somehow more frightening and more domineering, and long, brightly painted fingernails of course attract attention, but also look like they could hurt you and be used to subdue you.

When the woman in question is significantly older than you, more worldly-wise and considerably more experienced -- in short, much more mature, like my new-found friend here -- how could you resist them. I could not. I felt my own will evaporate and be replaced by a decided need to subject myself to her wishes. Yes, that would be best and so exciting. I let myself be enveloped by her soft arms and surrendered myself to her embrace, resting my head against her soft, yielding bosom...

---

She had a spacious penthouse flat with a commanding view. The furniture was modern and expensive, much stainless steel and leather, and the decor was held in bright colours. Very nice, but a tad impersonal, I thought. I was curious to find out more about this woman.

I looked around me and my gaze stopped when my eyes again rested on her. To my surprise, she had taken her fine knitted coat on. Only her high-heeled boots prevented it from reaching all the way to the floor. It was of the wrap-around style with a large hood that she had lifted over her head, and it was held together with a knitted belt. She looked a bit sinister, but also very, very soft, lovely and huggable. I took a few steps towards her...

"Remove your clothes! All of them! Now!" she ordered.

She pointed at the lush carpet in front of her with a long red fingernail. I was a bit shocked by the transformation, but not entirely surprised. I hastened to rid myself of my clothes, though. It proved to be quite cold in the flat, and I felt very vulnerable as I stood there before her with my hands covering my private parts, which was a bit ridiculous, really, as they were not so very private any more. I started to shake; from cold or apprehension, I do not quite know. Changing mood again, she smiled gently at me:

"Yes, it is a bit cold in my flat. I like to keep the temperature low and wear nice woollen clothes to keep me nice and warm," she explained

She hugged herself and stroked the soft wool of her thick coat, admiringly. I admired it too. She looked so nice.

"Come here, let me warm you," she said softly.

She loosened the belt and held her coat open. Under the coat she still wore the matching figure-hugging sweater-dress. I stepped up to her and let her embrace me in her coat. I was surrounded by soft wool all around, held close by a soft woman, snug and warm. Her full breasts were poking my chest. I felt so good. She rubbed my naked skin with her coat, warming me and caressing me.

When I had stopped shaking, she once again applied gentle pressure on my shoulders and motioned me to kneel down. I, of course, instantly knew what she wanted. Still inside her coat I found my way down on my knees, down under the hem of her sweater-dress and settled in a kneeling position between her round thighs. Here, under all the wool, it was warm, cuddly and cosy, and the smell of her sex functioned as an aphrodisiac in my nostrils.

Curly hair from her trimmed bush tickled my forehead as my tongue searched for the crack between her blooming lips. The outer lips had been shaven recently, but were now covered with fresh growth giving them a coarse, rasping feel as she ground her hips against my face. I liked that. It gave my worship of her cunt a raw character that heightened the sensation. The inside of her cunt lips, on the other hand, was smooth and wet. I licked her slit lovingly.

She rocked her hips from side to side, alternating between the raspy outside and the soft inside of her pussy against my chin; harder, faster.

Her sharp talons were digging into my neck, egging me on. I gripped her hips and sucked and licked on her inner lips, grinding my face against her exposed flesh. Her knees buckled, and she pushed me back and fell on top of me. As I lay there on my back on the lush carpet, she straddled my face and ground her most private parts against my eager mouth.

Her heels were digging into my side, almost unbearably sharp, but adding to the wild sensations as she was riding my face. Soft wool, strong, jerking thighs and a wet pussy covered me. She used me, exploited me, tormented me for her own purpose, oblivious to my needs and pains. And I loved it, struggling to avoid the heels digging into my sides and the sharp talons scratching my head, but never stopping my worship of her wet, wide, wild cunt. My purpose, right here and right now, was to give her what she craved for, to satisfy her longings.

Spasms surged through her transplanting themselves to my body. When she at last relaxed in a wet, perspiring heap on top of me, I was rock hard once more, dripping pre-cum on my belly. But I was also spent. My balls ached, but it would be impossible for me to come. Or so I thought. But she crawled down my body and rested on my crotch. I wanted so much to enter her, but she would not let me.

Any movement from my hips trying to push my stiff cock inside her was met by the teasing grinding of her crotch against mine. I tried to use raw power to gain access, but was met with firm resistance and sharp nails holding me at bay.

She held me down, punished my every movement with her sharp nails twisting my sore nipples until I lay still. Her hood was still over her head as she crawled further down. I was covered in the soft, but also slightly scratchy wool of her coat from my navel down. The hood made it impossible for me to see what she did, but I could all the more feel the tip of her tongue teasing the bulbous head of my prick.

Warm wetness enveloped my sensitive, stiff member, and by the bobbing movement of the hood it was obvious that she was giving me head. I knew what it was from erotic literature, but had never experienced it myself before. It had sounded exciting, but I would never have imagined that it could feel so good. I was so grateful.

Her tongue was doing strange things to the underside of my cock as it slipped in and out between her lips. Occasionally she would take almost all of me into her mouth, and I could feel her teeth scraping dangerously against the base of my cock. Simultaneously she was caressing me with the soft wool against my belly and my thighs, and sometimes she would combine it with scraping her nails down my naked skin.

My nipples were sore from being twisted and tormented. Some of these sensations brought me closer to the brink and others made me shrink back from the abyss. They all served a purpose -- to excite me further and heighten my sensitivity. Again and again I was so close it was almost unbearable.

Eventually, she bundled a lot of fuzzy, fluffy wool around my cock, burying it in a tickling mass of softness, stroking me with the woolly material, letting only the tip of my cock exit from the wool at short intervals and then lick it, kiss it and nip it with her teeth. Suddenly, the pressure became unbearable and the dam burst so that a volley of sperm erupted from my cock. She managed to catch most of it in her mouth, but when she lifted her head, pulled back the hood and smiled up at me, I could see blobs of semen on her lips and her cheek. What a fantastic feeling and what a wonderful sight.

"You are going to stay with me for a long time, aren't you?" she asked.