The Ladies Circle 03

The Princess

My name is Roger Cox, an active single man of 34, very fit, keen on sports, and even more keen on meeting interesting older ladies. My situation is a very pleasant one, in that I enjoy my job as a personal fitness trainer at the local Gym. I also enjoy my work as part-time warden of the 13th century church, in this picturesque English village where I live.

Both these appointments provide me with ample opportunity to meet some of the local older ladies, some of whom are very interesting indeed. To a few of these discreet female friends, I am also known, privately, as 'a very naughty boy'.

Perhaps I should explain that these particular ladies form a very select group that I refer to as my 'Ladies Circle'. When I visit the members of the circle, as I do, it is by invitation only, and with the utmost discretion that is required and expected of all parties involved.

Many years ago, there were two sisters living at the vicarage, named Elizabeth and Margaret Barton, who acquired the nickname 'The Princesses' when they were young. Their father was a Clergyman, who had chosen to name his daughters after the children of the King and Queen of England, hence the nickname.

The sisters grew up in the village, and eventually, they met and married local men, and moved away to live elsewhere. Margaret was widowed fairly young, so she decided to return to live in the village, soon after her husband had died, a few years ago.

I first met Margaret Barton when I was introduced to her at a church social gathering, and found her to be an elegant, stylish, and very attractive lady. I got to know her better as time went on, and I felt that a mutual attraction was developing between us, despite our age difference. Margaret eventually invited me to visit her at home, an invitation that I was very pleased to accept indeed.

Thus it was that I found myself standing outside her charming cottage at the appointed hour and rang the doorbell, in anticipation of seeing this mature lady alone for the first time.

"Mr Cox, how nice to see you again," said Margaret, on opening the door. "Please do come in." Then stepping aside as I entered, she added, "Go through to the lounge on the left," as she turned to close the door.

The lounge was bright, feminine and tastefully furnished, with a sofa and two comfortable looking armchairs, arranged in front of a wood burner stove, that stood in a large brick fireplace. The oak beams supporting the ceiling were very much in keeping with the character of this traditional old English cottage.

The impression I had gained, on first meeting the widow Margaret Barton, had been of an attractive, educated, and well-spoken woman in her mid fifties. She had brown hair, was of medium height, and well dressed, in clothing that enhanced her mature full-breasted figure. My first impression was confirmed again, as we stood in her lounge, and she asked if I would like some tea, which I accepted.

I was seated in an armchair when she returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray with the tea things, which she placed on a low table between us. Sipping my tea from a delicate china cup, we made small talk about nothing in particular, as she sat on the sofa opposite me.

Margaret looked really lovely, wearing a short dark coloured skirt and white blouse, that she filled out most pleasingly to my lecherous eye. Also, my mind had been somewhat distracted, by the amount of shapely leg that was revealed when her skirt rode up as she sat down.

After finishing the tea, there came a pause in our conversation, then she quietly said, "Perhaps I should explain why I invited you here this evening Mr Cox." I remained silent, then, looking somewhat embarrassed, she continued, "If I said that I have spoken about you at some length with your friend Mrs Randall, would that help you understand?"

I was beginning to understand, because Annabelle Randall was an active member of my ladies circle. But was it possible that Margaret also wanted to join the group, I wondered?

"I know Mrs Randall very well of course," I replied. "But what aspects of me did you discuss with her?" I asked innocently, while my heart thumped, and my cock began to stir in my trousers.

Blushing prettily she said, "Well she told me of the discreet service you provide for her, and I would be interested to know if you could provide the same for me, from time to time?"

"I would be delighted to do so, but I need to be sure we are talking about the same thing, so please be more explicit if you can."

With her face blazing, and eyes downcast, she whispered, "Since my husband died, I have had little opportunity to satisfy my sexual desires, and I would like your help to do that, if you would be so willing?"

"I would be more than willing to satisfy an attractive woman like you," I replied. "But may I ask what interests you sexually, as it would help if I know what you like?"

Almost inaudibly now she mumbled, "I get very excited by touching and sucking a big cock, such as Mrs Randall told me you have, and by dirty talk while I do it."

After a long pause during which my cock began to harden I said, "Why not close the curtains, and you can do that now if you wish?"

By way of an answer, she rose from the sofa, went to the window and pulled the curtain cord, plunging the room into semi darkness.

Turning from the window, Margaret moved to sit in an armchair as I rose to stand beside her. Then slowly opening my flies, I lifted out my fully erect cock, for her to see and feel. We were both breathing heavily now, as she raised her left hand, and began to touch and gently squeeze my exposed pulsating rod with her delicate fingers.

She soon began to tease me by gently trailing her fingernails and fingertips up and down the length of my cock, as I gasped and shuddered with intense pleasure. She continued to indulge herself in this manner, by stroking and frigging my cock for some time, as I closed my eyes in ecstasy.

Then in her educated English accent, she said, "I did say that I like dirty talk, so would you be shocked if I said I love to play with big hard cocks like this, and I can't wait to suck you off?"

It was incredibly erotic to hear such crudity spoken by this high-class lady.

"I love dirty talk too," I replied. "So would you be shocked if I said, "Tell me if your pussy is wet, because I want to finger and lick you there?"

"My pussy is dripping wet, you very naughty boy, and how dare you say things like that to me, the daughter of a Clergyman?"

So saying she bent forward and guided my cock into the warm soft cave of her wide open mouth. causing a sensation like hot tongues licking up and down the full length of my throbbing cock.

After some time of this delightful play, she took my cock from her mouth then looking me in the eye she said, "I'm old enough to be your mother, you naughty mother fucker. "And this disgraceful young cock is going to make me come very soon."

"Enjoy yourself mother," I whispered. "You can have this young cock anytime and any way you want it. In your hand, in your mouth, in your cunt or deep in your bottom."

"You dirty bastard," she replied, as she returned to her delightful task of sucking my cock.

Margaret was bringing me close to orgasm now as she continued her frigging and sucking. Very soon, I felt my knees tremble, and my hips jerk in spasms, as I shot thick jets of come down her throat.

She began moaning, as a few pearls of my spunk spilled from her mouth. It was then I realised that she too was coming, as she bucked and gasped in her chair.

When we had recovered our composure, and I had adjusted my clothing, she astonished me further by saying, "Thank you Mr Cox, that was a most enjoyable evening, and I hope you will visit me again before too long."

"The pleasure was all mine, and I would love to visit again very soon," I replied.

With that, the 'Princess' escorted me to the front door, and bade me goodnight.

The End