Mrs. Robinson's Quid Pro Quo Ch. 01

Pam Robinson has been dressing seductively in heels, bustier, stockings, garters, crotchless panties, dark hose, studded collars and arm bands for her husband the last two years, and in regular lingerie all their marriage. She had always loved to fuck, demanding it more than once per week, John enjoying the fruits of her appetite for cock.

John would joke she was the living embodiment of Ludacris's song Nasty Girl - "Lady in the streets, freak in the sheets" or Usher's Yeah! - "Lady in the street but a freak in the bed."

That digression and separation severed them both well as community leaders and professionals - Pam an award winning elementary teacher and John a long time firefighter, now one of three assistant chiefs at a large suburban fire station. Neither had stepped out with an affair, and other than some flirting at the bars, or at work, their eyes hadn't strayed far.

They satisfied each other keeping it spicy in bed, through almost 30 years of marriage having and raising four kids and being visible in the community. Now empty nesters with kids were in late stages of college, with jobs or living independently and one married with a grandchild on the way, they were beginning to branch out more sexually.

Her body a fit 5'6", sleek 120 lbs., with long beautiful legs that proportionally melted into her thin waist, flat stomach, nice shoulders, a long lovely face, brown shoulder length hair, great smile and a modest 32a bust. John loved her shape, often joked her nipples were her 'freak controls' and sent her into a frenzy when rubbed, pinched or even bitten.

Two weeks ago, on a milestone birthday trip together, John said, "I've never wanted you to get a boob job," laying beside her spent, having satisfied her a fourth time that day celebrating her 50th and his 60th birthday in Nashville. "I love the size and their sensitivity."

They flew United, spent the weekend on Broadway, drinking, dancing and fucking, having a VRBO close by to indulge (or rest) their bodies while taking short breaks. She loved her gin and tonics (G&Ts), fueling the passion that would have her push John onto the couch and drop her mouth on his cock or dancing against his crotch for a hour making him wait for his climax.

Naughty country girl was the look Pam perfected that weekend, her braless, low cut sleeveless concert Ts and short shorts, bangles and large feathered earrings, cowgirl hat were all deliciously coordinated.

That night in Kid Rock's bar on Broadway they met and chatted with a large, athletic 'Cowboy' who Pam rubbed up on, flirted with, danced closely to and let steal a kiss in the hall by the bathrooms, telling John immediately.

Many nights, usually after hot sex, they were open to chat about each other's sexual thoughts and THAT night at 2 a.m., with an 9 a.m. flight looming, she brought up a familiar fantasy.

The conversation started after John was fucking her from behind, came to the cries of Pam's climax, collapsed on the bed, and she rolled onto his strong chest obviously with the 'Cowboy' still on her brain.

"We've talked about another man before," Pam said immediately, her breathing still elevated, watching John's cock flop out on the bed sheet. "Is it time?"

"Dunno," John said, a small amount cum trickled out on his side the bed, a competition they would have while switching positions.

"Ha! You get the wet spot!" was Pam's patented victory cry.

"Not that there's much left after last night and today!" John acknowledge the shear # of orgasms he'd had to dole out, faking a couple.

"If it is time, I'd prefer a darker skin tone if you know what I mean. I brushed in between 'Cowboy''s legs and felt he wasn't really packing much." Pam said starkly.

"Is 50 everything you imagined?" John said, sorta changing the subject to her age, his usual way of not moving forward from the topic's uncomfortable nature.

"Is 60 everything you imagined?" Pam said throwing it back on him frustrated he dodged HER question, sliding out of bed, John's eyes following her ass into the bathroom, swinging side to side, her pussy visible between a perfect 1" gap.

She was disappointed heading to the bathroom but this time something different happened...John brought it back up...with a twist.

"We've joked about sharing you many times," He said loudly in her direction, the toilet flushing sound disappearing in the background.

Pam bounded back onto the bed, then into his arms.

"Can I admit I'd love to hear your moans getting it from a large cock?" John confessed holding her, a caveat he'd never revealed.

"You just did," Pam said smiling then slipping her hand below the covers, massaging John's spent dick, looking into his eyes mischievously. Pam dove below the sheets, taking his cock in her mouth and sucking on the limp flesh until it sprung to life 15 minutes later.

He loved it when she took control.

Pam fucked him cowgirl and reverse cowgirl (getting her cowgirl hat back on) before orgasming and falling into his arms again and blissfully to sleep.

----------------------------------------------------

Life happens.

No sooner did the Robinson's get back from Nashville, a trip of earth moving reconnection and new discovery, then John received a promotion with a hitch. Make Fire Chief, but devote the next 6-12 months of your life to training - weeks, weekends and a several month long stints all away from home.

"You can't turn a $50,000 a year pay raise down, I understand," Pam said, sitting in the kitchen. "You can give them at least five good years at chief, that's all you or anyone, being in that position, could handle anyway. It will be a great addition to our retirement portfolio."

Firefigther, pardon the pun, is a high burnout profession regardless.

Early in their marriage John was on the fastback at the station, but he loved the job, not the politics, had always been asked to move up in rank, but never pursued it. At 60 he was 10 years older than most men becoming chiefs, having been an assistant over the past five. They were having trouble keeping a chief, and the powers that be thought highly of John and that he could be the stability they needed.

Two weeks after Nashville, Pam was home alone.

The first week long training flew John three hours away and three nights in Pam was already lonely.

A long day with her 3rd graders had her beat, she walked up to her house, finding a package that gave energy and a big smile. She placed the box on her bed, patiently ignoring it until the proper time, changing into some sweats, getting her lesson plans done for the next day (first things first), dinner and finally returning to open the package.

She texted John - "FaceTime me when you can be alone...a package arrived."

Pam enjoyed showing off her body.

She has drawers and a couple boxes of expensive lingerie, hosiery, stockings that she had collected over the years. The obsession had morphed into a fetish collection of leather, or black lace, black stockings, headdresses or hats, collars and arm bands.

She used Victoria's Secret and other high end online stores evolving to include "Lovegood", "Esty Lingerie - kink inspired" and "Darkest Fox".

Pam pulled out the new piece she ordered Sunday fall in love with new colors - Classic red lingerie with intricate straps, bra, panties, belt and garters. It was so shear and showed off her smallish tits perfectly. She put everything on, her phone positioned on a selfie light, their 49th and 59th birthday present to each other, and she did her hair up in a messy bun.

Her desire to show herself off led to snapping sexy photos and communicating live online with others through chat, and anonymous cam services. Three times total she's shown her body off to strangers live, and had probably 300 photos on an old iPhone they gathered on sexy shoots, culminating in hot, Pam directed, sex.

Her phone jumped to life while she admired herself in the mirror, John's FaceTime call and answering saw him smiling seeing her in the latest purchase.

She started dancing for him live, not even greeting him. Pam turned her backside to the phone then her front, bending in front of the camera, showing her face, torso and legs, sticking her tongue out, running her hands over her face, breasts and body.

"Strip naked..." Pam commanded John and ran her hand over her pussy, trimmed, but still a nice triangle bush showing some, the fabric hiding some, just a couple mm in length. "Lay back, let me see how much you like Momma...Mmmm yes, nice, big...don't touch..."

John's hand had wrapped his cock and wanted to stroke immediately, but this was night number four alone and Pam was going to get off several times, punishing him for not being there. She had a couple dildo/vibrator combinations she used in front of him, letting John only stroke for a minute or two then ordering him to stop.

"Mmmm, Momma wants her big boy..." Pam moaned dropping the toy and inserting fingers, he helpless, the precum drizzling out of the head of his cock. "Taste yourself."

Eagerly John dolloped the clear fluid, tasting his readiness, finger brushing the tip, his eyes closed, Pam's moaned and cried louder inserting her fingers deeper.

"Stroke with to Momma's rhythm..." Pam began to squat and push, her hips bouncing to the insertion in and out of her cunt with her hand.

John began to stroke his cock, keeping the tempo, they moved isync.

"Yes! YES! JOHN! NOW!"

He stroked fast and soon sent his load shooting high into the air.

"I wish you were here," John's wife said and hung up abruptly.

----------------------------------------------------

"Mrs. Robinson, could you stop in my office?" Principal Gentry Phillips asked passing her in the hallway. Pam Robison, freak in the sheets/bed was prim, proper, and still an alluring 3rd grade teacher at Washington Elementary at 50 years old.

She had been teacher of the year twice and is now getting the children of students she had 27 years ago when she first started.

"Mrs. Phillips, how can I help you?" Pam asked, sitting down, her modest dress opened slightly to her boss, still allowing her bust showing without much scandle.

"We've gotten another student teacher request," Principal Phillips said in a prideful, matter of fact way. "You turned down last year's saying you needed a break."

"I'm going to have more time on my hands this semester, so I could handle another one," Pam said, then joked. "I'm getting closer to retirement, you'll have to find someone for me eventually."

"I'm not going to let you retire, Pam," Gentry said, a true friend who had been her boss for the past 10 years, though she was only 42. "At least not until I leave."

"They'll email me again, I imagine?"

"Actually, I don't know," Principal Phillips said, slipping back into her boss's role. "It's from the community college and it's their fast track program, so you'll have to let me know what the process is for this one."

Mrs. Robinson got hugs from the 4th-6th graders at her school, they truly loved her and the affection was genuine both ways. Traversing the school she felt the pride of her work and what she, and Gentry, had built together with the staff. Pam had mentored many of the the newer staff and they had a dynamic mix of old and new teachers.

Her 3rd graders were still at art when she pulled up her email and saw the correspondence introducing her to her student teacher, set to start next month.

"Tyresse Franklin Goodman" his resume with picture showed, and told, of a viral, young African-American who was set to do his orientation next week.

"Oh my...." Pam said softly and her consciousness disappeared into his bright smile and eyes.