Picked Up On the Prom

I was nearing 20 years old and had no real life plan.

At my Aunts suggestion, I accepted her invitation to use her coastal cabin. I was her favourite nephew and she thought I could make use of the solitude, the wide open space and the fresh sea air to gather my thoughts.

The village near her cabin was a lovely old place. Set in a valley between rolling hills, the narrow, cobbled lanes leading to a small, walled harbour. The historic fishing village with its old stone cottages pushed so close together, they looked like they were almost cuddled up against the elements.

Nowadays, the fishing industry had all but gone and the village was more geared toward tourism. Its long, sandy beach and it's unspoiled dunes are a magnet for day-trippers, whilst its open, often wild, seascapes provide inspiration for artists and romantic dreamers.

It being the end of October tourists were scarce, though life could easily be found on the small, vibrant, high street with it's craft boutique stores and shops, it's friendly village coffee house and the obligatory pub, naturally, maritime themed, with an always blazing open fire and enchanting bar staff.

Outside of the village ran the Promenade, a broad pedestrian pavement with a low wall seperating it from the beach. The seasonal booths that sold ice-cream, bucket and spades, and flip-flops which lined the other side, were all shuttered up at this time of year.

The Promenade ran for about a mile and a half, bordering the beach edge before abruptly ending when it reached the picket fenced gateway to the, locally famous, dunes.

At this time of year, it was so peaceful. The early autumnal wind blowing directly in off the sea, whipping up the salt and sand and providing a natural, refreshing, cheek reddening exfoliant for the skin.

One afternoon, I took a walk. Warmly wrapped up against the brisk wind and immersed in my surroundings, totally alone. I was soon lost in my own thoughts.

Suddenly. I became aware of something skirting around my legs. A smallish dog, full of circling energy, bumping into me, panting wildly, tail whipping from side to side as it sought my attention.

I bent down to pet it and it immediately started licking my hand before playfully rolling onto its back and inviting me to rub its belly, an act which nobody with a heart could ever refuse. I bent over and happily gave him what he so desperately wanted.

"He's made a friend I see."

Looking up, I met the eyes of a smiling, older man, I returned his smile as I looked up at him, the twinkle in his eyes, his wind reddened cheeks and full lips, I felt an unfamiliar lurch in my belly.

We started chatting and I immediately warmed to him. His name was Michael and the excitable, adorably cute, ball of chocolate brown curls was Rocky.

We started walking in step together and I noticed how easily our conversation flowed, I found him utterly charming and before we knew it, we'd walked the length of the promenade.

"I normally go for a coffee after our walk, would you care to join us?"

"Oh yes, I'd be delighted."

Again our eyes met, inside, another tummy lurch and between my legs an electric tingle.

We'd been so caught up in our conversation that we must have been strolling along very slowly. Eventually, when we reached the coffee house, the lady who owned it was pulling down the metal window shutters, with an apologetic look on her face she told us it was closed for the day.

"Oh what a shame."

The disappointment in his voice was obvious.

"Would you care to come back to my cottage? I'm not very handy around the kitchen but I'm sure I can manage to make us a coffee."

"I'd love to."

I noticed the corner of his full lips curl softly upward, and again, my insides responded.

Michael and I ambled slowly to his cottage, chatting away about everything, university, life, art, music. He was a very interesting gentleman and seemed genuinely interested, he listened, he joked, quite frankly I was smitten.

On top of a hill, in perfectly manicured grounds, his cottage was a picture postcard. An unspoiled, unencumbered view over the sea that must have added thousands to its purchase price, it was delightful and it left me quite speechless.

He explained how he used to vacation nearby when he was young, about how he had spent idyllic summers here making wonderful memories. When the opportunity arose for him to purchase this cottage he was financially able to do something about it and couldn't resist the lure of returning.

"The best decision of my life."

Inside was equally impressive. The kitchen was beautiful, the fading light from the windows on three sides, colouring the pale oak of the cabinets.

Michael started opening and closing doors, looking for what he needed make the coffee.

As I bent over from the waist to tickle the belly of the happy ball of fur that was wriggling on the tiled floor below me, I didn't hear him come over toward me.

I felt Michaels large palm cup my slim buttock. I felt his fingers spreading wide over my ass, smoothing themselves over the fabric of my trousers. I froze, my mind buzzing, was this actually happening? Panic immediately set in, then my hidden nature took over. Lust overcame my apprehension and fear.

I pushed back against his hand, purring quietly. His thick, strong fingers glided down from my rear, down to my thighs and through my trousers he felt the taut straps of my suspender belt.

I slowly straightened up, with my back against him and pushing my butt against his excited groin.

His hands moved up to my waist and he pulled me tightly against him. I could feel the heat from his erection push against me, his hard cock pressing firmly between my crack, I pushed further back into him.

Turning my head slightly to one side, I allowed his lips to gently kiss my neck and I felt his bristle scratching against my soft skin.

His hands found their way beneath my shirt, slipping under its thin cotton and onto the shimmering black satin of my Aunts' lingerie and his hot breath haltered against my skin.

Without a word he took my hand, leading me down the corridor towards the back of the cottage.

His large bedroom had two huge windows framing the landscape outside, casting shadows in the dimming light. A huge iron bed dominated the centre of the bedroom with an unvarnished, antique oak locker at its foot and some nautical prints on the white painted walls.

We stood beside the bed facing each other.

The moment I touched his face with my fingers I could feel a change rush through me, the natural dynamic between us slipped into place, he was in control and I didn't want to stop him, I was putty in his large hands.

My willing submission, my compliance, it felt instinctive and normal. I desperately wanted to please him.

He was so handsome, refined, cultured and old enough to be my grandfather.

We kissed, we stroked each other and when I could take no more, I knew what came next. I knew what my man expected. Slowly, I eased myself down his body and onto my knees.

I felt his fingers in my hair as I unbuckled his belt, the light moan that came from his mouth as I pulled down his zipper. I was so excited, I couldnt believe it was me, that it was my eyes that were staring at his crotch, inches from that which I had long fantasised about.

Easing his trousers from his waist, my eyes widened as I saw what was in store for me behind his near transparent, white, silky, tight briefs.

My eyes traveresed the throbbing outline of his stiff cock, pulsing against the straining fabric, the tell-tale sign of wet excitement at its tip.

I thrilled feeling my manhood slipping further and further away as wave after wave of greedy, gurly cock-lust ripped through me.

With shaking fingers, I eased down the waistband of his briefs and an uncontrollable gasp escaped as his thick penis, 8 or 9 inches long, completely smooth, sprung free.

The silvery thread of pre-cum which roped from his pulsing head to his briefs broke as I pulled them down his strong thighs.

Lowering my head, I inhaled him, his musk driving me wild, the smell of sweat and testosterone, the most intoxicating of perfumes, the more it filled my nostrils the more I fell under his spell.

I dropped my mouth onto him, his velvety head pushing down onto my tongue and filling me up.

Greedily, I took as much of his pulsing length into my mouth as I could. When I started to gag, I felt the pressure of his hand on the back of my head and with an almost inaudible pop I felt the rest of his delicious meat slide down into my willing, naughty throat.

Coming up for air. I licked the saliva stream from his shining veined shaft and l sucked gently on his silken, satin smooth balls with my lips.

Then, after a few moments of sucking his large balls, a fingertip nestled beneath my chin, it gently lifted my head, guiding m back onto his hot, gorgeous prick.

I sucked him, I licked him, I heard him moan as my tongue dove into his pee hole.

Up and down my cock-greedy head bobbed, tightening my lips around his member whilst my fingers slowly wanked his foreskin up and down his delicious pole.

Eventually, I started to hear his breath shorten, I knew he was close and I knew I was ready. I looked up into his eyes, he looked down into mine, then his eyelids began to flicker.

Without further warning and with a loud grunt, he shot his cum into my mouth. Stream after stream of his salty man cream left his body and filled my filthy mouth.

I gobbled up as much as I could, I had yearned for a mouthful of cum for years after always licking myself clean after masturbating. I didn't want to waste a drop, but it was copious, it overflowed my mouth, it leaked from the corners of my lips and ran down my chin.

He fell backwards onto his bed, milked, sated, smiling up at me, content. I had never felt so horny in my entire life.

Still on my knees. I untied his laces and removed his shoes, took off his socks and pulled his trousers down and off from his legs. As I did this, he unbuttoned his own shirt and together we threw them all into a pile on the floor with a giggle.

Standing up in front of him now, his eyes fixated on me as my fingers pushing the remnants of his cum from my chin and into my mouth. I loved the taste of his seed more than I ever thought I would.

I unbuttoned my shirt, throwing it onto the same pile as his, followed swiftly by my own shoes and trousers until I stood before him, exposed, in my feminine form, before a naked man for the very first time. I was lightheaded with arousal and legs felt weak.

"What should I call you?"

Although shocked at the question, I was thrilled that he would ask.

"Deborah."

I continued to tremble with arousal, watching him as his eyes drank me in.

My Aunts lingerie fitted me perfectly. The shimmering jet black satin camisole with its white, delicate lace trim and the tiny spaghetti straps, one of which was now falling off my slender shoulder. When I found it in my Aunts drawer I couldn't wait to wear it, so exquisite, delicate and obviously expensive.

The matching French knickers were almost moulded around my slender butt, the lace trim defining the high cut leg. They were so delightfully feminine, but, they did little to contain my swollen clitty.

The tight suspender straps of the black garter belt, with the cute roses over the clasps, that emerged from beneath the hem of the knickers were holding up expensive, sheer, black nylon stockings that felt exquisite against my long, freshly shaven and smooth legs.

Michael lay back, his eyes watched me as I circled my hips, pouting and purring, pushing my clit toward him, turning around and teasingly offering my boi pussy.

I saw the effect I was having on him, saw his beautiful cock twitch back into life, it was a unique, unimaginable thrill. My head swam, I just couldn't comprehend this situation, that it was me that was causing this handsome, older man's fat cock to get hard again so soon after he'd already ejaculated.

Trying to be as feminine as I could, I sashayed over toward him.

I laid down beside him, my fingers found and wrapped themselves around his splendid, stiffening girth, slowly I eased his foreskin up and down his pulsating man meat. When I had him really hard again, I put my lips to his ear, nibbling on his earlobe.

"Please Fuck me Michael. Please, I want you inside me. I need you inside me."

I whispered, I begged.

Then in one motion, I was on my back, french knickers hanging from one ankle, suspender straps straining on my stocking tops. A pillow beneath my butt and my legs wide open. My experienced, mature, lover positioned himself between my open, stocking clad thighs.

Greasing my boi pussy with the slippery lube, he gently slipped first one and then another finger into me, his strong, violating digits, stretching me, making me gasp.

"Mmm such a tight pussy Deborah."

Then he moved, adjusted his position, pushing his gorgeous, thick, fat cock against my pussyhole. Slowly, gently at first, he slipped his cock into me, making me gasp and moan loudly as he unknowingly took my virginity.

What heat, so hard, so thick, I felt myself stretched, deeper and deeper, I knew my mouth was open, I knew I was making a silent scream as my body struggled to accommodate his manhood.

Suddenly, it passed, the ache eased and it got much easier. I began to enjoy it and every feminine strand of my body, every gurly sinew, sang out in delight.

I felt his wondrous hot length as it deliciously violated me, in, out, in, out, he built up his erotic rhythm. I felt my clitty bounce against my stomach, my legs spread wide open, beautiful man between my thighs.

"Fuck me Michael! Ooh yeah baby! Fuck me hard daddy! Fuck me!"

"Mmm you like that slut? You like daddy's cock?"

"Oh yes daddy, oh yes daddy, I am your slut daddy."

"Your cunt is so tight, I love it, my cock loves it."

When he came, I think he came harder than he did when I sucked him off, if that was possible.

He seemed to spasm forever as he ejaculated his seed deep, deep inside of me, his entire body jerking as each stream left him, his eyes closed his mouth open.

I felt his warm jizz squirt inside me, filling me, his fat cock jerking with every spurt. It was exquisite, it was amazing. I knew that I would love it but wasn't prepared for this, this was on a different level. Every fibre in my body was tingling with feminine emotion.

I was finally the sissy bottom slut I had masturbated over for ever and I had never felt so alive.

Then his big strong fingers found my clitty. His prick still inside me, his erection slowly deflating, he began working me, teasing my smooth boi pussy with his delicate touch, driving me wild.

"You're a dirty girl Deborah, a filthy, dirty slut. You stink of cum my naughty cock whore."

"Dirty Deborah."

"Cum for daddy Deborah."

I orgasmed, again and again the jets of juice flew from me, the waves of climax washed over me, the trembles ripped through me and I moaned loadly in absolute ecstasy.

We collapsed onto the bed, Michael still between my thighs and my feet wrapped tightly around his calves.

Eventually he rolled off, his softened prick sadly leaving me with a quiet plop, a stream of his juice leaking out of me and onto the sheets.

We fell into a satisfied, contented doze, him spooning me in his hairy, strong arms.

I awoke in those arms, safe, warm and absolutely covered in our animal scent.

I knew I wanted to be his gurl forever.

Michael and I spent lots of time together, taking Rocky for lots of walks and having lots of adventures in the dunes.