Mature Mrs. Hallam's Photos

I was sucking in air, the residual excitement still on me while Mrs Hallam surveyed the damage.

As I looked on, she tutted and rolled her eyes, shoving her underwear down to her feet before she stepped out of the insubstantial scrap.

"I do adore a youngster who comes like a fountain," Mrs Hallam continued. "What did you do? Store it up for a week?"

I'd come but the arousal was a fire inside me. Seeing her naked had the effect. Mature, incredibly sexy with her bald vulva and large breasts, Mrs Hallam was like a drug. I thought she was wonderful as she looked at the cum, the goo dribbling over her skin. Then, in an action which is another enduring memory like a tattoo on my mind, Mrs Hallam scooped spunk with a forefinger, held the dollop up so she could examine it and, after making sure I was watching, she slipped the finger between her lips.

Then she did it again.

Then she chuckled, the sound rich and dark. It was the dirtiest laugh I'd heard in my life. And with good reason because what she did next was show me the grin, get down so she was knelt on the cardboard again, reached for my cock, and then sucked every trace of ejaculate from the bell-end and shaft.

"We're going downstairs," Mrs Hallam said when she stood up.

I gawked and said, "We are?"

When she smirked and turned I felt the arousal rush through me again. It was her feminine shape that did it for me. I saw her shoulders and the sweep of her body down into her waist. Her buttocks and thighs were taut, the skin elastic in the way only a woman's skin can be. Her calves, sculpted and shapely, were under pressure because of her shoes. The blue high heels, to match her briefs and her dress, exaggerated the length of her legs, muscles tight.

"Come on," Jason," she said as she started to move.

When she turned to look back over one shoulder, her ash-blonde bob shimmered, hair straight and almost perfect, with only a couple of flyaway strands from where I'd pushed my fingers through her hair when she sucked my cock.

My insides lurched and my cock jerked with renewed vigour when I saw the sway of her hips. I even gave my dick a few quick, encouraging strokes, my eyes set on her rump.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"My bedroom," she said.

I paused. "But what if Bernie comes back? Or your husband?"

She was at the top of the ladder, naked except for her shoes and her bra. "I'm not expecting Bernard until four-thirty," she said. "He's picking you up. Why would he have any need to come back?"

I shrugged, unsure. "I dunno. He might,"

"He'll knock. He won't come into my bedroom. Don't worry."

I watched her boobs sway as she grabbed at the robust rail and put a shoe on the ladder.

Mrs Hallam paused and looked at me. "And my husband would only take pictures," she added.

#

Excited and nervous, I took a quick look around the room. Her bedroom, the most prominent object in there, of course, was the marital bed. I thought about that, but only for a brief moment. I was nineteen, had my hard dick sticking out of my flies, and was gawking at a desirable, supremely attractive and naked older woman who was unclasping her bra while still wearing those high heel shoes.

"You might as well take your clothes off," Mrs Hallam said. "You need to be comfy, and I don't want buttons and things poking into me."

I did think about saying I'd love to poke my dick into her but thought better of it. She'd made it clear that full sex wasn't going to happen. It was a disappointment for sure. There wasn't anything more in the world I desired than to fuck into Mrs Hallam's meaty cunt right in that moment. But having her suck my cock was already more than incredible. I might have been desperate for her but knew enough to keep my mouth shut.

"What are we going to do?" I asked as I pulled my tee-shirt over my head.

I stopped, paralysed with shock and surprise when Mrs Hallam first sat on the bed and then eased back to take her weight on straight arms angled behind her, legs coming up so she could fold them at the knees and spread her thighs. That's when I first saw the ungainly, ugly-beauty of her cunt, the thick folds loose and crinkled as they parted with a tacky reluctance as she splayed them with the tips of her fingers.

"Don't be frightened," she said, holding her flaps back like butterfly wings. "It looks big but it isn't. It's tight inside."

I boggled, lust a heavy drag at my guts while Mrs Hallam smiled at me, half-shy, half-vixen as she swung her knees side-to-side in short little arcs.

"But-" I started, and then had to cough. The word came out as a croak because need, desire, and a dreadful, aching yearning had swelled my chest and blocked my throat. I coughed and cleared it and then managed to get the words out. I said, "But I thought you said I couldn't fuck you."

To which, after pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and she stared at me for a few seconds, Mrs Hallam said, "I did. What makes you think I changed my mind?"

Confused, I felt foolish, heat warming my cheeks. "Yuh-you said it's tight..."

"It is, but I thought you might be put off." Mrs Hallam gently slapped the flats of her fingers over her sex, the sound thick and sloppy. "Piss flaps like elephant's ears my husband says," she went on with a roll of her eyes. "I was just saying you don't need to be scared. In case you were. You know, because of these."

Her labia shivered when Mrs Hallam teased the folds with her fingers. She stretched them and I saw her scarlet core glisten. Then she slid the tip of a forefinger over her clit.

"I don't usually do this," Mrs Hallam said. "But, well, I quite like you, Jason. First impressions are you're a decent lad. I've got an instinct for character and I reckon you're nice. You're not pushy like some of them are."

Mrs Hallam's upper lip curled with disdain as she paused and looked at me with that feline look behind her eyes again. Then she flicked her clit with her thumb a few times, gasping and wincing as her tummy tensed and her boobs shook and rolled.

"You were shy at first. And it was really sweet the way you blushed."

Mrs Hallam glanced at my hard-on and then looked me right in the eyes.

"I don't know if you're aware," she said. "But that's quite a big cock. It's really made me feel quite fruity. I'm randy and my cunny's wet."

To prove it, Mrs Hallam spread her flaps again. She even forced her thighs wider, holding herself open to expose the cerise mystery of her glistening centre.

"So," she added as I gazed, mouth slack, "what I thought, as a special treat, is you might like to lick me right here."

Mrs Hallam indicated exactly where she wanted me to focus my attention by teasing her clit between her forefinger and thumb before she slid the middle- and ring-fingers of her left hand into her body.

I gasped and moaned, eyes on the sight of it while the symbols of marital fidelity glinted and winked, the finger inside her squelching twat in almost up to the knuckle. As I stared, Mrs Hallam worked those digits against her insides. When she did, she grunted and closed her eyes and shifted position to bring her weight onto her side, legs wide as she rested on one hip and an elbow, left hand uppermost as she carried on mining her cunt, right hand mauling her tits.

"Jason, fuck, don't just stand there. Take your fucking clothes off," Mrs Hallam said, moaning the words. She looked at me through heavy-lidded, lust-glazed eyes, tit-flesh squeezing through her fingers as she grabbed at herself, fingers working her sex. "I need you to lick it. I need to have a sweet little orgasm, darling. Do that for me and I'll suck your cock. How does that sound?"

I thought it sounded like an excellent fucking idea! I couldn't believe she was going to let me get my face on her big floppy twat, but I worked past the doubt by toeing the heels of my trainers to get them off my feet at the same time as I unbuttoned my jeans and unzipped he flies.

I got my shoes, jeans, and underwear off, erection waggling around, the jib wild as I all but jogged to the bed.

"Socks, Jason, please," Mrs Hallam said. "A modicum of fucking decorum, darling. Don't be an oaf."

That stayed with me. The socks. I never went to bed with the girlfriend I was destined to meet a couple of months in the future while wearing my socks. It was a girlfriend I would actually marry. But that's another story because I was weeks away from meeting her in one of the market square pubs. Right then, on that afternoon, it was all about Mrs Hallam and her comfortable body. I was mad for her bald mound and wonderful pussy. I was eager to get my lips and tongue on those big loose folds and oversized clit.

"Ooh, fuck, yes, suck on my bean, you naughty, gorgeous boy," Mrs Hallam said on a groan as I tasted her essence.

I had limited experience at pleasing a woman with my face at that time. For sure, I was full of enthusiasm, but that didn't quite make up for style and finesse, or so Mrs Hallam informed me. I first went at her all slurpy and giving big licks. I slobbered and lapped, my hands moving over any part of her body I could reach. I wasn't sure if she'd let me touch her at first. There were no clear boundaries except for the frustrating, "I'm not letting you fuck me," thing. But, as I flicked her clit with my tongue, I slid my hand over her tummy and went for her boobs.

The spongy-firm texture made me squirm against the bed to get some friction on my dick. I didn't have enough hands for what I wanted to do, which was wank my cock while grabbing and squeezing Mrs Hallam's boobs, her bottom ... anything I could get hold of.

So, there I was, wriggling around, hands full of womanly flesh, her pussy slick on my tongue while her essence siped from her scarlet opening.

Then Mrs Hallam let out a gasp. She said, "You're doing a lovely job down there, Jason. It's lovely, darling, but..."

#

Mrs Hallam moaned and grunted. She gasped out my name and said I was lovely.

Then the judders began. Her orgasm hit her and she squirted a viscous spurt of honey against my tongue. At the time I was licking the elastic skin between her vagina and pee-hole. I also had two fingers inside her, teasing the spongy walls within, the tips of two fingers working against some small, irregular patch of rougher skin which made Mrs Hallam writhe and burble obscenities whenever I rubbed it.

That was something else which shocked me about her. For all her style and elegance, the more aroused Mrs Hallam became, the deeper into the gutter her language dropped. She wasn't shy when it came to the sweating. There was no rationing of obscenities. She called me names and described parts of her body with a crude litany of synonyms not even a sailor could match. As I licked and lapped and probed, Mrs Hallam begged me to worm my tongue deeper into her slippery cunt. She urged me to finger her slutty twat and also growled at me to finger her 'til she pissed cum over my face.

Her words, I swear.

Mrs Hallam started off gentle as she guided me with verbal instructions and the way she positioned her body. I was eager to learn and tried really hard, the result being she started with the sewer-mouthed filth, writhed, gasped, and came.

Hard.

Then, when it was over and she was sucking in air, huge eyes on my face, she pulled me up from between her legs and pushed her tongue into my mouth.

It took me by surprise, but I returned the kiss, my hands full of her ripe curves.

"Suck my tits," Mrs Hallam said with a grunt. "Yes, baby, yes, suck on my nipples. Play with my tits. You love those things, don't you, Jason, my lovely?"

Then it happened. I'd sucked on Mrs Hallam's long, thick teats, my fingers playing with her labia - not her clit because that felt like electric shocks if I touched it she told me - and had kissed her mouth for ten minutes or more while she sighed and moaned.

"You know I said I'd suck you," Mrs Hallam said as she pulled away and sandwiched my cheeks between her palms.

I nodded as best I could while she held my face that way, her stare locked with mine.

"Well, I lied," she added.

"Mmf," I said.

"No, listen." She held my face, eyes wide while she slowly nodded. "I'll still suck your cock," Mrs Hallam added. "But later. If you still want me to."

I gasped and pulled free. "But-" I said.

"No, shush," Mrs Hallam put in as she placed a forefinger over my lips. "You don't understand. You see, I know I said I won't let you fuck me, that fucking is against the rules..."

Mrs Hallam removed the finger. She shrugged.

"But I like you, Jason. I like you a lot."

I gawped as it percolated through and Mrs Hallam moved over the bed until she was resting with her shoulders against a couple of pillows propped against the headboard.

Next, Mrs Hallam spread her legs. She held herself splayed and licked her fingers before she used them to split her folds, a digit slipping into the opening before she worked circles around her clit.

"Come on, Jason; come here, my darling. Just come and fuck me," she sighed.

#

I was between her thighs, up on my knees, I stroked my cock, sensations swirling inside me as I looked at her vulva, framed as it was by the smooth skin of her taut inner thighs. Mrs Hallam rested with her torso inclined at sixty degrees. She was still wearing the shoes, straps buckled around her ankles, knees folded, and even from that elevated position looking down at her I could see a hint of her anus in the shadow where the undercurve of her buttocks swept in and up. Her big boobs jiggled when she again sawed a finger between her substantial flaps, her eyes slits as she looked at me, teeth clenched. It was another sexy expression, all about relentless, desperate need, a raging fire of arousal she could only extinguish through sexual fulfilment.

"Come and fuck me," Mrs Hallam urged.

I knee-walked in closer, slowly working my hand over my cock as I leaned over her body to take my weight on one straight arm. With the other hand I aimed my bulb at her body, excitement a hot rush when I surveyed her frontage and marvelled at how, only thirty minutes earlier I'd been measuring sheets of ply.

I gulped, swallowing down on the surge of emotion. "Mrs Hallam, you're lovely," I said on a murmur.

She nodded, eyes wide and staring. "Put it in, Jason. But put it sweet and slow. Don't go charging off. Not yet. There'll be time for you to show me what a man you are. But when you first put it in, just make it lovely."

I knew what she was talking about because I felt it, too. It was sex but there was also more to it. I understood she was breaking the rules with me, that this was a betrayal. Regardless of her husband being complicit in the cocksucker photos, what we were doing broke the agreement she had with him.

So, it was up to me to make it worthwhile. She didn't want me to climb on and start banging away. Mrs Hallam wanted romance - or at least as much as I could offer. She wanted to love, for us to be tender and warm.

There might even have been love sparking between us. Not that it would be a long-lasting flower, but at least it could flourish and bloom for a short while.

That's why, as I shifted my weight onto both arms and gave Mrs Hallam control of my cock, I held her gaze when she offered the dome to her body.

"Oh," she sighed when the bulb popped the faintest, slick resistance and she took half the length in one quick, liquid glide.

I gasped and looked down to our conjunction and saw her labia clinging to the shaft. When I looked at her face again, I gave the slightest nudge with my hips and her body took me all the way in.

When she had all of me in her molten embrace, I moved down onto my elbows and offered a kiss.

"Mm," she breathed.

"Ah," I sighed as we started to move.

I loved her for as ling as I could. Then, when the urges surged and we both seemed to burn with passion simultaneously, the fucking started and I was up on my hands, my cock moving like a greasy piston, her body taking me until my pubic bush flattened against her bald pubic mound.

We grunted and sorted, rutting with bestial vigour as our bodies collided with thick meaty thwacks. I shifted around at her instructions, changing the depth and angle of the thrusts as she clung to my shoulders and fucked her hips so her cunt took every squelching stroke.

"Mm-hmm, oh yes. Fuck, baby, fuck. Love me and fuck me," Mrs Hallam gasped.

I ducked in and slobbered a kiss against her mouth, after which it descended into us licking each other's tongue, moving together in synchronised lust which had us both moaning and urgent.

"You like it, Jason?" she asked.

"Yeah, I love it. You're incredible."

"Is tight like I said?"

"It's perfect," I told her with no word of a lie.

"We shouldn't be fucking."

"I don't care about that, Mrs Hallam."

"Me neither," she said through a snarl. "I want this. I want your gorgeous cock."

"You've got it," I moaned.

"Oh, Jason, are you going to come?"

"I don't want to," I said on another low moan.

I was working hard at holding it in. I didn't want it to end. It enthralled me to watch her breasts as they shivered and rolled. I wanted to watch her face and see the expressions shifting from joy to desire to what looked to be something like wonder before she winced and gasped and urged me to fuck her.

"You shouldn't but I want you to do it inside me."

She was looking at me, eyes wide, awe behind her eyes.

"Nobody has come inside me since I got married," Mrs Hallam went on. "I've sucked hundreds of cocks. I've had spunk over my stomach, my breasts, even my face and in my hair. I've had dresses ruined when men have gotten carried away, but you're the first one I've let fuck me. You're the first one I'll let come inside me besides my husband."

She was working herself into a climax by saying all that. I knew it excited her to say it because it excited me, too.

Mrs Hallam groaned and clawed at the bed, grabbing the sheets like she wanted to tear them loose while she brought her calves up to my flanks, hands going to my shoulders while she shunted her pelvis and stuck her chin on her chest.

She called out a thrilled, "God, look at how fucking gooey you are!"

At which I looked down and saw my shaft smeared with buttery gloop when it appeared on the outstroke.

"That's you," I said, mesmerised by the sight.

"It's us," she moaned, hips working hard.

We went at it with frantic energy, grabbing each other and kissing, bodies moving with liquid squelches until, at last, on the back of a long, low moan, I sobbed I was coming.

Whatever I had left in the tank I squirted into Mrs Hallam. I came, mumbling nonsense about love and how she was so beautiful as she took it all from me. I grunted and slumped down, holding her to me while I emptied myself and, when the fog cleared I realised Mrs Hallam was there with me for the ride. As I'd dumped my lust, she'd had a hand down there between us, the fingers on her clit so she could rub herself through those final few paces.

We climaxed and kissed, panting into one another's open mouth while we cooled. Then the shrivelled giblet slid from hr body in a quick, slippery rush.

"Oh, God, there's cum sliding out of me, Jason," she said with a dark, lascivious chuckle.

"Sorry," I said.

She held me and grinned. "Don't worry. I rather quite like it."

We kissed some more, slower and loving. Then, after several minutes and we were both recovered, Mrs Hallam told me it was over.

"Better get dressed and get back to the attic," she said. "I've got to clean myself up..." She paused and moved off the bed. I watched and felt a quiver of desire when I saw her body. "And I need to change the fucking bed," she added, then grinned at me.

I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay and look at her until I got hard and we could do it again. Her shape, the texture of her skin, the kissing, and my youthful vigour meant I'd could easily manage another tumble on the big bed. But Mrs Hallam wasn't having any of it so, with the greatest reluctance and some petulance, I dressed and went back to work.