Mrs. Honeyman's Chin

It was a long drive home but the weekend away had been very entertaining. I was one of a group of friends who had rented a holiday home at a well-known lake and we had spent the long weekend water skiing and swimming and generally having a good time. We were a pretty homogenous group, early twenties and college educated. Catherine, who was travelling home with me, was an exception. While very beautiful, wealthy and well-connected socially, she was just one sandwich short of a picnic. Not outright stupid but prone to making remarks that show questionable perception. There was also an air of privilege and arrogance that I found distasteful.

Catherine had been a little grouchy at the start of the trip home but by the end she was almost belligerent. I couldn't understand what had happened. To be honest, I a little surprised when my friend Kate asked me to drive Catherine down to the lake. I had already offered a lift to another couple but they pulled out at the last minute so it was just the two of us on the road.

When we pulled up outside her mother's home, where Catherine lived, I carried her bags up to the door of their house. "I enjoyed your company," I politely but untruthfully offered.

"Fat lot of good it did me," she replied. I processed her statement. She was clearly disappointed. In what? What had she expected? It slowly dawned on me that, over the course of the weekend, she had expected me to initiate a relationship. The travel arrangements had been a set up to force us to spend time together. Now, don't get me wrong, she is a very attractive young woman; dynamite figure, gorgeous, fresh complexion, immaculately groomed. Unfortunately for her, she was A. Not bright enough for me to be interested in a steady relationship. And B. Too self-important and conceited. A real deal breaker.

The other point was that, from my perspective, she had given me no indication what-so-ever that she was interested in me romantically. I usually need a few cues before I take a first step. If anything, I thought her demeanor towards me had been aloof. I think because she is so beautiful, she is used to having men falling all over themselves to impress her. I had been responsible for a nasty little bruise on her ego.

Returning to her appearance, as I have said, she was a complete stunner but there was one idiosyncratic aspect to her appearance. She has what could be described as a strong chin. Not necessarily masculine but if you broke down her looks feature by feature, the chin would certainly be noted. As I said, not unattractive, but somewhat conspicuous.

A mature woman with a very similar facial feature opened the door. This had to be Catherine's mother. The resemblance was remarkable. Our eyes caught and I watched as she gave me the vertical scan. Always a good sign when a female flicks her eyes up and down your body. I have a theory that it is actually an involuntary response to the stimulus of a potentially attractive male. If they like what they see in the face they follow it up with the visual swipe from head to foot and back to head. Easy to miss but delightfully satisfying for the scanee. If the scanner is attractive it invites an approach.

Mrs. Honeyman reminded me strongly of one my favorite porn stars. Google image search "Kristina St James." There you have her. Maybe add in a solid measure of Stormy Daniel's chin and you are getting very close. OK, maybe Mrs. Honeyman was a little smaller but otherwise the facial features, general body shape, bouffant hair and the coloring were very similar. A genuine, bonafide milf in all respects. She was not tall at around five foot four but very well proportioned. Her figure and face were remarkably youthful for a woman with a 22 year old daughter. She must have been somewhere in her mid-forties by my estimate.

She smiled warmly at me and thanked me for looking after her daughter. The daughter pouted and marched inside. Mrs. Honeyman looked quizzically at me and I smiled and withdrew. As I walked away I abruptly turned and found Mrs. Honeyman's attention was firmly fixed on my ass. She started when she realized she had been busted. I saw her blush, weakly wave and then beat a hasty retreat inside.

I was earning my keep while doing post graduate study by doing odd jobs for friends, family and acquaintances. I was a bit of a "jack of all trades" and was much cheaper than a genuine tradesman. It was all word of mouth referrals. So it was not completely unusual to get a phone call from Mrs. Honeyman asking if I could install a set of flat pack shelves in her laundry.

While I knew that this was simply work, there was a little titillation in the thought that I was going to see that exquisite milf, the recently divorced Mrs. Honeyman. I knew any chance of a connection was as remote as finding buried pirate treasure in your back yard but I still made the effort to shower and shave and to wear rather more presentable clothes than I normally do when working. When I knocked on their door at the arranged time, it was opened rather more quickly than I expected. She looked sumptuous in tight fitting slacks and a sleeveless top that offered a generous slice of cleavage and some slim, tanned arms.

She seemed ill at ease, nervous even as she welcomed me in. I asked if Catherine was at home and was mildly relived that she was not. I could still feel the chill from when I had dropped her off.

I was ushered into the house and led to the rear. Mrs. Honeyman indicated the shelves and where she wished them to be installed. I made some measurements and penciled in some positioning marks on the wall.

I turned to face her. She looked like she was going to burst. Her face was flushed. She blurted out, "I wish to have a private word with you. Could you please follow me?" She seemed relieved that she had managed to get that out.

I followed her down the hallway, relishing the view of taut little bottom twitching from side to side, and entered what appeared to be a guest bedroom. She shut the door behind us and lent back against it. She was definitely anxious. Her eyes would dart towards me and then as soon as she made eye contact, they would dart away. Taking a deep breath she stood erect and nervously stammered, "I am asking for you to assure me that, what we are about to discuss, must never be mentioned outside this room. I am requesting your complete discretion."

I nodded dumbly in agreement. I was wondering if it was something to do with Catherine.

She continued. "Thank you. This discourse would never have occurred if you had not explicitly, if a little coldly, made it clear that you are not interested in a relationship with Catherine."

So it was about Catherine. Was she going to entreat me to date her daughter, to try and kick start a relationship?

She took a step closer to me. Her face was pinched up which made it look as if she was in pain. She was obviously very uncomfortable. "Do you find me attractive?" she suddenly blurted.

Didn't see that question coming. Without thinking I immediately nodded my head. It was a reflex response to her query. Her look of discomfort eased. And she took another step closer. We were now about a yard apart.

"Do you find me sexually attractive?" There was a very pronounced emphasis on the word "sexually". Her voice had become lower, more sort of husky with each passing remark.

Again I instantly nodded my agreement. Another pace forward and we were definitely in each others personal space and I, for one, was relishing it. I could smell her. It was a delicate but musky aroma. It made for a heady assault on my sense of smell. I could see that her pupils had dilated another trustworthy indicator of sexual attraction.

She gently placed the palms of her hands on my chest and then slowly ran them up until they were tickling the hair at the back of my head. She seemed to be purring. In an even more gravelly voice she announced, "I find you very sexually attractive." Her look was now predatory. She had caught something and wanted to devour it. All pretenses of anxiety were overwhelmed by what appeared to be an intense sexual desire. As if in affirmation she licked her plump, pouting lips and then drew my neck down to her face. I heard her inhale deeply, taking in my own musky smell. She exhaled in a manner that spoke of pleasure and undisguised sensuality.

It was about time I made a more meaningful contribution to this dialogue other than my inane nodding in agreement. I forcefully clutched her body to mine. She gasped, but then smiled lecherously up at me. I had just confirmed that I was feeling an erotic enthusiasm matching her own.

Looking down at her face from a distance of six inches, I could see her eyes flicking from left to right, repeatedly looking at my eyes. Her look became softer, more vulnerable. Her lower lip quivered and I knew it was time. I joined my mouth to hers and we both moaned in unison. Our tongues swirled and roiled while our hands roamed over the others body. One hand of mine delighted in a firm handful of derriere, while another ran through her voluminous mane of fine, golden hair.

She too had been exploring my ass, both her hands grasping and pulling. This had the outcome of grinding my achingly hard penis into her lower belly. This made her flinch momentarily but this swiftly morphed into a grinding motion of her own. I grunted with pleasure. Raising a hand to her chest, I was thrilled by the hefty weight and dimension of her left breast. I kneaded it in slow but deliberate manner which caused her to moan into my mouth.

This inspired her to up the carnal ante. One of her hands released my butt and insinuated itself between us. It ran down the front of my trousers until she found the unmistakable bulge that represented my adamantine penis. Again she groaned in a purely lascivious manner. Given that we were still lip locked, it was a very satisfying experience to witness her desire in such an intimate manner.

After a few more moments of exploratory handwork, I sensed a change in her approach. She started pulling my shirt up, untucking it and then fumbling frantically at the buttons. She smiled up at me in a slightly nervous fashion which became more confident when I began undressing her. Once we had both helped each other shed our tops, I took another moment to admire the weight and substance of her bust. Her black bra held two very generous handfuls of creamy flesh. I joyfully squeezed and hefted them. Abruptly she sank to her knees whisking away my two new play pals. Her hands flew to my belt and, with a little difficulty, she had my trousers at floor level. She now paused. Once again a wave of nervousness came over her. She looked timidly up at me, took a deep breath and lowered my underwear.

I do not wish to sound immodest but I was rather proud with the way my member swung into the limelight. Mrs. Honeyman's gasp was music to my masculine ego. She did not immediately touch it, seemingly initially content to merely observe. She looked at it from several angles and then quietly said, "It's pulsing." Indeed, such was my arousal that you could see my prick pulsating in time with my heart beat. After a few more moments, which incidentally seemed like an eternity to me, she delicately grasped it with her left hand and gave the tip an experimental lick. She seemed to savor the taste, and thus encouraged, took the head of my cock fully into her mouth. It was now my turn to be the moaner and groaner.

After a few minutes of delectable oral action, she looked up at me and made a demand no man can turn down, "I need you inside me."

She scrambled up onto the bed and eagerly took off her bra, trousers and panties. I surveyed her naked glory. Smooth almost glossy skin. Maybe there were a few small blemishes on her legs but I was not in a mood to be picky. Quite a trim waist although there was maybe a small hit of a pot belly but I found that quite appealing. I think the most striking feature was the way her breasts rose proudly even though she was lying on her back. The way they defied gravity and age was stirring, although my admiration was later dimmed a little when I learnt that they were, in her words, "augmented." She was a genuine blonde though. Her pubic region was crowned with a delightful little flak burst of golden hair. I kicked off my pants and climbed on top of her. She mewed with pleasure as I kissed her deeply. My cock snuggled into a very strategic furrow and she wriggled her hips in an effort to further entrap it. I teased her with small shallow jabs which she attempted to counter by grabbing my piece and directly guiding it into safe harbor. I again resisted but gave her another inch as a reward.

"Give it to me. Give it to me now!" she pleaded. I stopped moving altogether and asked her what she wanted. She looked at me with a feral look on her face. She panted out her desire, "I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me hard and fuck me deep!"

At that instant, I lunged into her with all the vigor I could muster. She was so wet that the entry was effortless. She exhaled violently like she had somehow been punctured. As I continued my hearty assault, she became more and more insensible. Her motions slowed until she was slowly flapping her arms and her legs were quivering. Her eyes were rolling unresponsively in their sockets. I buried my head in her sweet-scented, gilded hair and went about my work with steadfast determination. I have always prided myself on my stamina so I knew I could keep up this bowl busting barrage for quite some time.

As I roared into the home straight, I became a little concerned about Mrs. Honeyman's lack of participation. Was she not enjoying it? I slowly brought my pistoning motion to a halt. This quickly brought her back to reality. "What... Why... Why have you stopped? That was wonderful. I was just about to come again." Well I'm glad that's cleared up but I was a little disappointed that I had missed witnessing the moment of her orgasm.

I thought this might be a good point to introduce a game changer. I slithered down her body until my face was adjacent to the sodden mass that was her crotch. It was clearly reddened by my rather whole-hearted pussy pounding. It was a thoroughly degenerate vision. She struggled up onto her elbows and looked down at me. In a rather garbled voice she repeated, "Why... why have you stopped. I need... need more." I answered with a long swipe of my tongue from her perineum to above her clitoris. She sank back down flat again and gasped. "Oh my Goddddd!" As I continued to slather my tongue up and down her slit, I could sense that she was nearing completion. I decided to up the ante and try a little anal play. I moisten my index finger in her sopping quim and then applied it to the little crinkle of her anus. She flinched but said nothing. I took this as acquiescence and gently but firmly pushed forward. Her butt accepted an inch of finger. Her anal ring was exceptionally tight and I could feel little spasms as her body adjusted to this anal intruder. Her body started to tremble erratically and she was emitting a guttural gurgling sound. I redoubled my efforts and was rewarded with a tremendous eruption of movement and sound.

She abruptly convulsed into an arch so that only her shoulders, head and feet were touching the bed. In the process I was pubis-punched right in the face. My momentary surprise at this genital jab was compounded when I witnessed a four second spurt of liquid discharge itself in a neat little arc onto the bed. Now I had heard about women squirting and the term female ejaculation but I had never had any firsthand experience. That was a really seismic orgasm in all respects.

Mrs. Honeyman sank back onto the bed and was panting noisily. "What, what did you do to me?" she stammered. "I mean I know what you did, but how did you do it?

I leered, "I think you just had a ball breaking orgasm and in the process, you squirted."

She looked down at the not insignificant wet patch between her legs and shuddered. "I have never done anything like that before, but then, I have never felt anything like that before. My entire body was caught up in the sensation of orgasm. It was the most intense sexual event I have ever experienced."

I must have been smirking because she gave be a gentle slap across the face and commented, "Stop looking so pleased with yourself!" Her smile was affectionate.

"We had better do something special for you." she generously added. I was intrigued.

To this point, it was a little unclear to me how sexually experienced and/or adventurous Mrs. Honeyman was. What happened next cleared that question up.

She bade me to lie back and then, grabbing a couple of pillows, gestured for me to raise my hips. With the pillows inserted under my lower back she then motioned for me to pull my legs back towards my chest. I was not terribly keen on this as I felt very exposed and somewhat vulnerable. I had never bared my bottom to anyone in this fashion.

She grasped my member in her hand and gave it a few experimental strokes. I will admit that my disquiet with this new position had taken a little of the steam out of my erection, but when she sucked one of my testicles fully into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, there was an instant rejuvenation. She too noticed the recuperation of rude rigidity and grunted with vulgar satisfaction. The look on her face had that voracious expression again. I was prey to be consumed.

For my part, I was downright delighted to be devoured in this depraved manner. I lay back and reveled in the sensations her hands, mouth and tongue were administering to my nether regions. She kept switching backwards and forwards, swapping mouth to penis and hands to balls and then back again. It was a delightful rhythm within a rhythm. I was so focused on these sensations that the next sensory input made me gasp and buck on my mound of pillows. Her tongue had gentle grazed across my exposed arsehole. This was new territory to me. One of my sexual partners had lightly fingered my little pucker in the past, but full blown rimming was virgin territory. Further exploratory licking and lapping had me moaning with pleasure. Emboldened by my obvious enjoyment, she began to include an experimental darting motion with her tongue that actually entered my anus. I felt like I was rising up off the bed, made weightless by sheer carnal pleasure.

I don't know how long this continued because my sense of time had become distorted but when she began a to demonstrate a convincing impression of a Dyson vacuum cleaner on my cock and then, crucially, inserted what I assumed to be a finger up my rectum, I had a very emphatic time stamp. Her other hand was flying up and down my shaft and she was making muffled sounds that spoke of effort and determination. Now I knew about the mechanics of prostate massage but this was beyond the theoretical into the realms of the surreal. I had Mrs. Honeyman, my friends Mom, slurping voraciously on my cock while she had a finger up my ass, sensuously kneading that most sensitive gland, the prostate.

I rapidly realized that things were getting precipitous. I warned Mrs. Honeyman that the countdown had begun and that she should retire and take cover. Rather than using the warning to withdraw, she redoubled her efforts which resulted, only a few moments later, in what I can only describe as a volcanic ejaculation. The strength of my orgasm induced an involuntary full body shudder which dislodged her mouth from my erupting penis. She took the first blast in her mouth but later volleys arced up in to the air and fell back onto my body. I watched her eyes follow each of the 4 following barrages being flung up and then fall down onto me. Gratifyingly her hands kept up their work which agreeably finalized the orgasm. She seemed to have forgotten that my first broadside was still in her mouth as some of it trickled out of the side of her mouth and down onto that strong, wide chin.