Nancy and the Author

This story was written for Nancy. We've never met but…

I hope she enjoys it.

Prologue

Nancy is 56. She has always maintained her fitness and good looks. She probably doesn't realise that over the years there have been hundreds of youngsters at her school who fantasised about her. Even today, there are a number who would just love to see her naked.

She comes across as strait-laced, some might even say severe. She believes in standards, setting high ones for herself as an example to others. The trouble is that this is a carefully constructed veneer. Sex for her husband has become an occasional duty -- almost a chore, whereas Nancy's libido has increased with age. Masturbation helps, but is no substitute for real sex. Not able to get it at home, she has resorted to looking elsewhere when her husband is away on business.

Trawling through the Literotica website is a pastime that helps when she wishes to pleasure herself. She'd read many stories on there that made her hot, but one day she came across an author she hadn't read before. It was almost as if he had written about her. The woman in the story was fancied by her Son-in-Law and eventually they ended up fucking. She was so impressed by the tale both emotionally and physically, that she decided to send feedback to the writer.

*****

Chapter 1

Ronnie (or Rolland Rock as he was known to Literotica readers) had only started writing eight months before. It was idle curiosity at first, wondering if he could actually pen something good enough to submit. His first effort took three attempts before it was accepted. When it was, the first he knew of it was that he received an e-mail containing encouraging feedback. He continued writing stories, attempting to achieve as high a standard as wit his first. A difficult target, as it turned out to be an Annual Award Winner.

The sequel to "Mother-in-Law's Tongue" was in the process of being written when the original story itself was released. Ronnie was at work and had just clicked on Send and Receive in Outlook to pick up his personal e-mails (as well as the business ones). He saw that a new feedback message had arrived and opened it. When he started to read the contents he had to quickly shrink the screen in case somebody could see over his shoulder. He had to wait a couple of hours before he could read it again.

Nancy wrote:

"I really loved this story. I'm very wet and dressed for school. I'm a 56 year old school teacher. Very fit, very proper but I crave sex. My husband doesn't know that when he is gone I cheat on him. To be honest I have been fucking my son-in-law for two years. Love, Nancy"

Ronnie was stunned. Of course, he had received some 'interesting' feedback in the past, but for some reason this particular message made his pulse race. How on earth could he have the hots for somebody he had never met, seen or even spoken to in his life?

Having spent most of his time writing, Ronnie hadn't been to the Literotica chat rooms for quite a long time. Tonight he was on his own and the family was away for the week. He'd run dry of plot ideas, so instead he decided to login and see if there were any interesting people there. He wasn't particularly enamoured of role playing or erotic chat, but preferred intelligent conversation. Although academically an under-achiever himself, he seemed at ease with people of a higher intellect. Frequently, he would find his co-conversationalists were teachers.

It took a few attempts before he could get in this time, but eventually he gained entry. Seeing a number of people were in the Literary Salon, he decided to go there. "Hi everybody," he wrote. The usually polite members in the room responded in turn. The light-hearted banter kept him amused for a while. A few new people came in and then left again, some not even responding to greetings. Then, just as Ronnie was thinking of shutting down and going to bed another person appeared.

"Hello Rolland," she wrote. "Are you the author of Mother-in-Law's Tongue?"

"That's me," he replied. "Why, have you read it, then?"

"Oh yes. It's one of the best I've read."

"Thanks. Have you read the sequel?"

Ronnie was taken aback when she failed to answer the question, but instead said, "Can I PM you please?"

"Sure," he answered simply.

The message popped up on his screen, outside of the chat room. "Sorry about that, she said. But if I was going to answer your question honestly, I thought that it had better be in private."

"Why?"

"Well, before even reading the sequel I had already gotten worked up realising that you had written another episode. It took me by surprise.

"As I read it, I got more and more turned on until I found myself masturbating furiously."

Ronnie's dick had started to become uncomfortably swollen, his mouth dry. He was still trying to work out what to say when she wrote again.

"I hope I haven't shocked you? Perhaps you were shocked by the feedback I sent you after the first story?"

"Sorry, had to calm myself down there. You sent me feedback?"

"Yes. My name is Nancy."

"Nancy, of course! You wouldn't believe the effect your message had on me. I'm really pleased to be talking with you."

"I can't believe that I'm conversing which such a talented writer."

"Now, stop that. Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I've started reading all of your stories now and they are thoroughly entertaining."

"All of them?"

"All of the ones that I've read have made me come -- at least once."

Ronnie had absolutely no idea that his scribblings could have such an effect on a woman. "At least once?" he asked.

"Well, your longer stories take a while to read and the way that you write brings me to a number of peaks.

"Sometimes I'm unable to hold back and I let myself go, then I continue reading again."

"Er.. So, what's your record for a story?"

"Four."

"Wow!" The idea of Nancy having four orgasms while reading one of his stories was simply mind blowing. She was clearly a very sexual woman, something like the characters he often wrote about.

"Tell me, do you get turned on when you're writing?" she asked.

He welcomed the interruption from his reveries. "The way I see it is that if it does it for me then it should do it for others.

"I do try and write for women more than men though."

"Why?"

"I've never thought about it before, but I guess I like the idea of turning women on."

"So you like turning women on, do you?"

"OK, I guess I'm going to have to come clean here. I'm really not very experienced. I wouldn't have a clue how to turn a woman on in real life."

"Wouldn't you? What if I was to tell you that right now my hand is inside my knickers and that I've got two fingers slipping in and out of my pussy?"

It was as if the whole world had just stopped. The only sound that Ronnie could hear was his heart pounding and the blood rushing in his ears. It was true that he didn't have a clue how to turn women on. However, in his worldly innocence he didn't realise that as he had matured towards his fiftieth year, he had become more and more desirable to those around him. He simply had no idea just how many women had fantasised about him.

He wondered how she was able to type one-handed, until he realised that his left hand was wrapped around his cock and his right hand was taking care of his own communication. All he could think of to write in answer to Nancy's question was, "Mmmm."

"I read your profile. I had no idea how old you were from your writing. I picture you in my mind as being tall and strong. What are you really like?"

"Tall and strong is probably fairly accurate. I'm not fit by my own standards, but I walk a couple of miles a day and keep fairly active.

"I'm carrying a bit more weight than I'd like to though."

"What colour hair and eyes?"

"Hazel and brown."

"Hazel hair and brown eyes?"

"Lol. You vaguely described yourself when you e-mailed me. Tell me more about Nancy."

"Well, at the moment I look pretty wanton with my skirt up and my legs spread like this.

"I'm about 1.68. My hair is dark (although I use a colouring). I exercise regularly and keep my weight the same.

"My breasts are 34C, with large nipples.

"I like to keep my pussy hairless because I enjoy the feel of nice underwear on my skin.

"My clit is quite swollen at the moment and I'm rubbing it."

Ronnie was almost ready to burst. As Nancy had continued her monologue, he had pulled his shorts down and had begun to wank in earnest.

"I'm rubbing it with my thumb while finger-fucking my pussy."

Ronnie managed to interrupt her, "You're going to make me come, you naughty girl."

"Come for me then! Come for me now. Rub it until you shoot everywhere. I'm coming too."

He lost sight of the screen as he had to turn away to prevent keyboard damage. He hadn't produced a fountain like this for many, many years. Fortunately he had some tissues to hand and quickly mopped up.

Nancy hadn't written anything more. He felt a little disappointed at the thought that she may have cut the connection. He wrote, "If you're still there, thank you. I hope yours was as powerful as mine."

There was no reply. The message screen just sat there. Ronnie sighed and was about to logout when the message flashed up. "Sorry about that. I've only just recovered. That was fantastic, thank you."

"I've never done that before," he admitted.

"What wank? I doubt that! ;-)"

"Lol."

He decided to get back to more normal (or rather less erotic) topics. "So, where is home for you Nancy?"

She told him, but only roughly.

"Are you kidding? We can't be more than 25 Kilometres apart!"

"We could have passed each other in the street."

"I wish I could be passing you in the street right now." Where did that come from? The incurable romantic within him was taking over.

"Do you really? Do you think we will ever meet?" she asked.

"It would be nice, but it can only be a dream, can't it?"

There was a pause, as if Nancy was thinking. "Why only a dream?" was all she said.

"Because we've all heard the horror stories and we all know that we shouldn't meet with people we talk to in chat rooms."

"Considering our ages, I hardly think that you are grooming me! :-)."

"But you don't know anything about me. I could be a convicted rapist."

This didn't seem to deter Nancy. "OK, but what if we arranged to meet somewhere public, say a bar and that I looked you over first?"

"But that won't tell you a lot, will it?"

"I think I already know a lot about you from your writing. But aren't you worried that you might not like the look of me?"

"I've never been shallow enough to worry about someone's looks. I've always been more interested in their personality."

"So, we both go to a bar. You dress in such a way that I will be able to recognise you, but I don't reveal myself unless I'm happy to do so."

Nancy's directness was a highly attractive quality. "I guess that would work," he said.

She took a deep breath and began typing again. She told him the name of the bar she had in mind and gave him directions. She then asked him how she would recognise him and what time he would like to meet her.

"8pm. I'll be the tall, dark handsome one looking rather lost.

"No, seriously, I'll bring a book with me to read. It'll be a Terry Pratchett novel."

"It's a date then," she wrote. "See you tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. Sweet dreams."

*****

Chapter 2

Ronnie was still pondering how the arrangement had come about. Was he really going to meet somebody that he had been talking to on-line? What did he know about her? Absolutely nothing! He spent the next day trying to decide if he should go or not. Eventually he convinced himself to meet Nancy, assuming that she didn't chicken out.

He kept busy at work and as a result the hours passed quickly. He left the office promptly and made his way home. He hadn't thought to ask Nancy if they would be eating or not, so got himself a snack to keep him going. Afterwards, he went upstairs to have a shower and change.

The journey in the car was quicker than Ronnie had anticipated and he arrived fifteen minutes early. He parked the car and headed for the bar.

Nancy had arrived early too. Having obtained a drink she made her way towards the back of the premises, where there were some secluded alcoves. She sat down on a bench seat that afforded a good view of the entrance, but allowed her to remain partially concealed.

She had just taken a sip when the door opened and a tall, dark haired man, seemingly in his mid forties walked in. "I wish!" she thought.

The man walked with an easy gait and headed directly for the bar to get a drink. She watched him carefully. His hair was greying slightly at the sides and he wore rimless glasses. He wore a dark suit with comfortable yet smart shoes. He took his drink (a bottle of Beck's) and turned to look around the place. Almost immediately his eyes locked on hers. He cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrows. Nancy's mouth dropped open.

The deceptively casual stride ate up the distance between them. He stopped in front of her, smiled and then said, "Would you by any chance be Nancy?" She nodded and he continued, "I know that I should have waited for you to approach me, but I forgot my book. If you like I'll walk back down the bar and wait for your decision."

"No! I mean, no. Please sit down. I'm sorry; it's just that you've taken me by surprise!" She moved along the bench seat to allow him to sit next to her.

Nancy stared at him. "Wow," she said.

"Wow yourself."

Conversation seemed difficult. Nancy tried to say something, anything. "It's really good to meet you Rolland."

"Ah. Actually that's my pen name. My real name is Ronnie."

"You said that you were tall, but I had absolutely no idea. I can't believe that I'm sitting in a bar with somebody as good looking as you."

"You didn't exactly warn me of what to expect either. I mean, you look absolutely fabulous. You must have quite an effect on your students."

"Me? You're joking! I've heard that they nicknamed me 'Iron Knickers'."

"What? And you think that that means they don't fancy you? Come off of it. I'm sure loads of young men dream of being dominated by an older woman, especially when it's an older woman as gorgeous as you."

"Do they?" she asked. "Do they really? You mean that they… Oh!" The idea was astonishing, yet suddenly she realised that what he said might be true. There had been occasions when students had almost deliberately caused themselves to be given a detention punishment with her. Her mind suddenly flashed unbidden fantasy images of her being laid across her desk. She shook her head to clear it. "I must say, I wasn't expecting you to dress so smartly."

"I toyed with the idea of smart casual, but I'm glad that I went with the suit." He openly looked at Nancy and admired the way she had dressed. A matching black jacket and (not too tight) skirt were worn over a white blouse. The jacket was unbuttoned, allowing tantalising glimpse of the attractive and lacy bra visible through the fine material of the blouse. He couldn't help but notice the tell-tale bumps on her thighs, which revealed that she was wearing stockings and suspenders under her skirt. He began to feel a stirring in his trousers.

"You really do look very… sexy indeed." He wondered if he had over-stepped the mark with this comment, but Nancy simply smiled. She too was feeling a stirring in her panties. She felt it was best to get him to relax, he was still fairly tense. Clearly he was very shy, unlike his characters.

"Your stories always have good plots. How do you come up with them?"

"They just come to me, I guess. Sometimes I have difficulty coming up with a story, but I've never started one that I couldn't finish. I have made major structural changes while in the process of writing. For instance, a story which had two halves; I'd started telling the tale from the male character's perspective, but during the second part I realised that it would be better to write that from the woman's side. It meant two separate stories, which required re-building events slightly. In the end I actually wrote five stories involving each of the main participants."

"Oh, yes, I've read them. It was clever the way that you tied them all together in a series."

"I usually think through a story before I start writing. By then I've got a good idea of how I want to start and where it's going to. I try not to think about the erotic parts until I'm actually writing them. That way I can gauge what other people's reactions are likely to be by my own."

"I see. And what exactly turns you on?" she asked in a deliberately sultry voice.

Ronnie initially thought that she was play-acting the flirting, but decided to go along with it, "Sitting in a bar next to a beautiful, sexy woman," he said. The atmosphere suddenly became highly charged. He heard his voice continue, "A woman who's wearing an attractive suit and blouse with sexy underwear beneath. A woman who understands just how much of a turn-on it is to let the man she's with know that she's wearing stockings."

The flush on Nancy's cheeks was reflected by the reddening of her neck and chest, clearly indicating her current state of arousal. She took hold of one of Ronnie's hands -- they were so big! -- and then placed it on her leg. She rubbed the tips of his fingers across the straps holding her stockings up. "Can I kiss you?" she asked.

"Yes." It was actually Ronnie that kissed Nancy. He leaned in close and gently touched her lips with his own. He marvelled at the soft wetness and moved back in for a longer, firmer kiss. He moved away a few centimetres and looked deep into her eyes. She felt as if she was falling into a well. When their lips met again he opened his mouth and his tongue entered. Their tongues began to intertwine, tasting, testing. When they finally broke apart they were both breathless.

Nancy swiftly checked that nobody was looking at them and slipped her hand onto Ronnie's leg, moving it quickly up to his crotch. "Oh good," she said. "It isn't just me then."

The couple managed to pull themselves back to more normal conversation, interrupted by only occasional kissing sessions. After a while, Ronnie went back to the bar to get more drinks. She watched as he walked away and realised that he had an absolutely adorable backside. He returned with a soft drink for himself as he was driving. While he was gone, Nancy raised her skirt a bit more, revealing the start of the lacy stocking tops. In the darkened alcove and beneath the table, nobody but the man she intended would be able to see.

Ronnie's powers of observation hadn't diminished with age. As he moved to sit on the bench seat Nancy moved slightly further in, but turned her body more towards him. As he sat down he could see the entire expanse of lace, together with an area of creamy white flesh above. He couldn't see her panties, but had to stop himself from pushing the skirt up to her hips to have a look.

Nancy hoped that he would get the hint. Her panties were soaking wet and she desperately needed to be touched, but his shyness was holding him back again. She leaned forward taking hold of his hand again and kissing him. She moved her mouth to his ear as she placed the hand on her inner thigh and breathed, "I need you to touch me there."

Ronnie checked that they were unobserved and slid his hand up the silky-feel nylon, over the soft lacy fabric, onto the smooth, warm flesh at the top and on. Onwards towards the heat that he could feel emanating from her crotch. He could feel the dampness as soon as his fingertips made contact. Where they first touched they found Nancy's clitoris. She gasped and began jerking uncontrollably. Never in her life had she come to climax so quickly. As she leaned back against the seat Ronnie withdrew his hand. He raised it to his mouth and, looking directly at her, he began to lick his fingers. Nancy moved closer, caught his hand and brought it to her lips so that she could share the taste of her own come.