Young Love

It was almost two years after I had stayed at the guest house in Devon and had sex with the neighbour's son when out of the blue he phoned me on my mobile. At first, I didn't recognise the number and no name came up on my screen so I almost didn't answer it, but something, fate probably, prompted me to.

"Hi it's Ellis," a guy said with a faint burr to his voice.

It didn't register at first. "Sorry?" I replied assuming it was someone trying to sell me something.

He laughed. "Devon Mrs West, Mrs Dawson's B & B, bingo, car puncture and us, remember?"

It all came flooding back. I had been in Devon on business staying at a guest house when my car had a puncture. I had phoned the guest house and the landlady had said her next-door neighbour's son, Ellis, who I had seen and chatted to a couple of times would help me. I remember that at the time I had thought that he was a nice guy.

He had driven to where I was stuck on the edge of Dartmoor and had tried to help but the jack in my car was faulty so he had phoned his friend who owned a small repair garage. He said he couldn't come for an hour so Ellis and I had a drink in a pub. He had a couple of pints, I had two gin and tonics and I guess we flirted; I had thought he was both a bit of a player and quite a hunk but only twenty or so, the same age as my daughter and a few years younger than my son!

He drove us back to my car that I had pulled off the road into a small car park when I had the puncture. Just as we pulled up in the near almost darkness his mobile rang and it was his friend saying he would be another half an hour at least.

Like many women in their forties I had a bit of a thing about younger men and as I was living apart from my husband at the time it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world that when he came onto me I let him kiss me. It seemed just as natural that later that evening when his mum and Mrs Dawson went to bingo to let him into the B & B, come up the stairs and into my bedroom for the inevitable to happen, twice actually. It was just as inevitable the next afternoon when his mum and my landlady went shopping that we spent the afternoon in my room where we made love three times in just under three hours.

So, I had good memories of Devon, the B & B and Ellis but was surprised when he said.

"I've moved up to London and wondered whether I could buy you a drink or something, you said to give you a call."

"Did I?"

"Yes, just before I went and got mum and Mrs Dawson from shopping."

As I had lain in bed naked watching him dress I did vaguely remember saying something along those lines. But then they are the sort of things women say after sex with a near stranger who she is unlikely to see again.

My recall of the sex between us was very positive. Not only did he have the stamina and recovery powers of a young buck but also he was a great kisser, good at oral and generally, he was a considerate lover as concerned about my pleasure as he was his own.

I wasn't seeing anyone at the time so the idea of meeting him quite excited me. That said, like most women I didn't want him to think of me as being too easy so I had strung him along a bit asking where he was living and what he was doing in London. His answers all made sense and as he was not too pushy I agreed to meet him for a drink despite having some reservations.

Over the years, actually since I was in my thirties, I had been attracted to younger men and had been with three but had felt uncomfortable being seen out and about with them. Being honest with myself my reasons for agreeing to meet Ellis were purely sexual and, of course, revolved largely around his stamina and recovery powers which I recalled were impressive. More and more as I had got older the idea of having sex two, three or four times in a session took on a greater appeal. In fact, my number one fantasy was to be the woman in a six-guy gang bang, something that was most unlikely to happen but a nice fantasy when in bed alone and feeling horny!

So, the idea of having sex with Ellis was exciting but being seen in a pub or bar and having the stares of others who I assumed would be thinking 'older woman with her toy boy' was daunting. I considered saying to him come to my flat, but thought that might look rather too come on and, in any case it was some time since I had seen him and he may have changed so I stuck with the plan of meeting him in the bar he suggested in Covent Garden on a Friday evening.

*

It went well. He was as nice as I recalled from Devon, very attentive, not at all pushy and apart from being over twenty years my junior he was bloody good company. That said, though, I saw the looks people gave us and I noticed one girl nudging her man and whispering something about us. In part I guess that was due to the bar he had chosen as it was one that attracted a younger crowd and I could well have been the oldest in there, something I didn't at all savour!

"A mate got me an interview and I passed, as simple as that. I don't really want to work in a car dealership but it's just like a passport to get me up here," he had told me over our first drinks.

It turned out that he was working in Highgate booking cars in for service and living in a house with six others in Forest Gate in East London.

"How do you get to work then?"

"I cycle only takes forty minutes or so and keeps me fit...," he said pausing before adding. "Builds up my stamina Jayne," as he looked at me and smiled.

I didn't make any of the obvious remarks but I couldn't help smiling as I looked at him and we both got the message that he didn't really need to build that up.

We drank, not a great deal just a couple of white wines for me and two San Miguels for him.

I was wearing a blue, shortish, a few inches above the knee, fairly loose skirt and a white button up blouse, no tights as it was still warm and my legs were tanned from the nice weather recently and strappy four-inch heels. He was in a baggy, dark blue, heavy cotton shirt and beige chinos, no socks and loafers; he looked good. I had washed and styled my blonde, spiky hair before coming out and was wearing dark rimmed, oversized glasses as opposed to the rimless ones that I prefer as they are lighter but less fashionable; I'd been told that the heavier, larger glasses were sexier and a I'm a sucker for such compliments.

We left the bar at just after nine and walked along the crowded piazza.

"So, what do Londoners do to end the evening Jay?" he asked slipping his arm around my waist.

Resting my head affectionately on his broad chest I replied. "It varies so much Ellis, but probably quite similar to people in Devon."

As quick as a flash he came back with. "Shall I get a cab then, Docklands isn't?"

We laughed and quibbled joking over whether I would let him 'take me home' as he called it but of course I did.

We had hardly got out of Covent Garden when he moved across the seat of the black cab and pressed his leg and side against me; we were only bowling along the Strand when he put his arm round me; we had only just turned off that towards the Thames when he kissed me and we were only approaching the Limehouse Link tunnel when he squeezed my breasts and fiddled his fingers inside my blouse. And it was just as we turned off the tunnel towards the Isle of Dogs that he pulled me half onto my side with my body pressed against his and slid his hand up the outside of my bare leg almost to my knickers. Had we been going much further god only knows how far we would have gone but we didn't and pulled up outside my maisonette where we got out.

"Wow this looks cool Jay," he said looking at the gates and the four-storey apartment block inside them.

"Well what would you expect," I grinned zapping the gates and leading him across the cobbled courtyard, up the six steps and into my duplex apartment.

Once inside he took me into his arms, we kissed long and deep and almost immediately he gripped the cheeks of my bum through the thin skirt and pulled me firmly against him. He was completely erect and felt wonderful. It had been such a long time since I had felt so intoxicated and aroused by a kiss; it was making me feel young again!

As he slid his hands up the back of my legs under my skirt and grasped the bare cheeks of my bum in the flimsy blue thong I fumbled a couple of buttons on his shirt undone and ran my fingers over his bare chest.

"Your daughter's not here is she?" he whispered into my ear.

"No and you wouldn't be if she were."

"Why not?"

"Well funnily enough I like my men friends to be rather older than my daughter," I replied smiling and kissing his chest that looked as though it was shaved.

"Why, do you bring many young men home then?"

"Hmmm," I said smiling. "Chance'd be a fine thing."

We kissed more and my blouse came undone. Rather unceremoniously but probably appropriate for the occasion he eased my boobs out from my bra as I undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt and pulled it out of his trousers. He kissed each of my boobs and sucked on my nipples as I fumbled my blouse off. Where he had pulled my breasts out from the D cups of my white, diaphanous bra the underwiring on each cup was pressing into each tit and hurting me so, reaching behind my back I unclipped it and shrugged it off.

"Oh fuck Jay I had forgotten what a rack you had," he said burying his face between them as he mumbled.

"Forgotten my crowning glories," I smiled adding. "How could you?"

"They are gorgeous," he muttered as he shrugged his open shirt off.

I was now seriously aroused and I knew that I would not need much more stimulation to make me cum. It had been over two months since I'd had full sex and my body was beginning to react to that.

As he was licking and kissing each boob he was also pulling the thin, blue skirt up and bunching it round my waist. It felt rude and rather wanton being topless with my blouse and bra on the floor and my skirt round my waist as I kissed a guy younger than my son.

"Jesus Jay you look fucking great," he whispered pulling on my bum, writhing his cock against me, squashing my tits against his bare chest and kissing me.

That did it. It was just too much. The appeal of this young man, what he was doing to me and my frustration at not having been made love to other than by myself for a couple of months put me over the top and I started to cum.

"Oh fuck Ellis, oh Christ."

"What?" he said sounding alarmed.

"You've done me I'm cumming," I groaned feeling both excited and embarrassed as my body shuddered and shook uncontrollably with the pangs of my orgasm.

It went on for some time, certainly longer than usual. My arms were around his neck and I was clinging to him as if for support as I shuddered and shook with the physical and emotional torment of my climax. He slid a hand down from my bare breasts, into the front of my thong, across my shaved pubic mound, onto my clit. That made me jump even more. I grabbed his hand and pulled it away.

"No Ellis not now, it's very tender there right after an orgasm," I groaned as wave after wave of, now diminishing feelings went through me.

"No good?" he asked.

"Oh no baby quite the contrary," I sighed, kissing him.

"It was ok then?"

"Yes, very much so."

"I thought I had cocked up somehow."

"Not at all, it's me that's done that. I was frustrated and came too quickly, my fault not yours."

I kissed him again and taking his hand said. "Come on Ellis let's go to bed."

*

That was the start of my affair. My love affair with a twenty-two-year-old young man from Devon.

I had thought that after that first date we might not see each other again or if we did it might be for the occasional afternoon shag. But I was wrong. He came to my apartment on the Sunday after that Friday night date and we had sex pretty much continuously from mid-afternoon to midnight. I am not sure how many times he came or how many times I orgasmed but it was like something from a porn story.

Again though, as on the Friday I wouldn't let him stay although my resolve was weakening.

"Next time," I said standing naked by my front door kissing him when the uber cab arrived adding with a smile. "If there is a next time Ellis?"

"What are you dumping me then?"

"Not at all but I was wondering the same with you."

Taking me into his arms and crushing me against him he kissed me, fondled my bum and then said.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

It went on from there.

It wasn't like the flings I'd had with guys around my age or older as I was loath to let him take me out. I didn't like the stares and the obvious distaste some people had or I imagined they did, for seeing a mid-forties woman with a young man; cradle snatcher was the term that came to mind. Also, he could not take me to where he lived as he shared a house with a number of others and did not have his own bedroom. So, the bulk of our affair took place at my flat with the occasional drink in a pub followed by sex in my car but sometimes we forgot the drink!

Before Ellis I had been with other younger guys. They were different to this though. They were either just one-nighters or short, a few days fling, a quick bonk then nothing until the next time or longer but infrequent meetings. This was different though. Yes, it largely revolved around sex and most of our time together was spent indulging ourselves in that but there were other elements to it as well. We telephoned each other, exchanged emails, texts and whatsapps and we facetimed each other. I cooked for him and we spent time together watching TV, mainly Netflix box sets and we talked. He was the first younger guy I had been with who I could have a sensible conversation with.

So physically it was different to any other. More importantly, though, it was also emotionally different. After the first couple of weeks when I saw him five or six times and we had discussed in some depth my aversion to being seen in public with him especially around Docklands where I lived, I realised that I was developing feelings for him. Almost continuously he was in my mind. I would find myself wondering what he was doing and imagining him at work in the car dealership in Highgate or in the house he shared with several men and two women of whom I became mildly jealous. I found myself wanting to talk to him, see him, touch him, kiss him and, of course have sex with him. I wanted to hear his voice so I would phone him, sometimes four or five times a day or more if his work would have permitted. I was finding reasons to see him and we would meet at lunchtimes sometimes for a drink in a pub but more often to go to a quiet spot and have sex, albeit usually limited to mutual masturbation. We sent each photos and videos and, of course, he wanted me to be undressed. I was ok up to a point with that and got quite a buzz out of taking selfies in my underwear, topless and then later naked.

Naturally, I couldn't tell anyone about him, although I desperately wanted to. My son, Peter was older than Ellis and Sara my daughter was a little younger. Whilst I think both would have gone along with it as they wanted me to be happy following the divorce, they would not have been happy, but then how could they be? Ok, a couple of my friends who I know had been with younger guys would have given their tacit approval but I didn't feel comfortable confiding in them; after all secret is no longer one when shared!

Was I falling in love, I asked myself recognising that my feelings for him were powerful and getting stronger!

I couldn't put my finger on just what it was. It certainly was not what I felt for my long-term fwb who had been transferred to South Africa with his job. Without a doubt he was the love of my life and who I would willingly have been totally faithful to and spent every living moment with. A wife of over twenty-five years, four children and him being a strict Roman catholic made that impossible but didn't stop me feeling the way I did. It was also not how I had felt for my ex or the several lovers of the past few years. And spectacular though the sex was proving to be it was not just that, well I tried convincing myself it wasn't. When not with Ellis I thought a lot about us and my feelings. Was it possible I wondered to fall in love with sex? Was it feasible that I was in love with how he fucked me? The few times we had made love when I was in Devon were spectacular but not though, as wonderful as they were now. You hear of women falling for a guy because of his personality, his charisma, his power or his intelligence so why not his sexual prowess?

The other feelings, though, were not so savoury. Wasn't it all rather silly a middle-aged woman having such feelings about a man under half her age? How could such a relationship work and last? Was there any future? Or maybe I shouldn't think that way and just live it day by day? On top of all those thoughts about me I wondered what Ellis was thinking and feeling? Nothing longer-term had been discussed and neither of us had expressed our love for the other. For all I knew I might just be a bit of fun for him. So, I guess the overriding feeling was one of confusion!

These feelings or beliefs had, of course, started that Friday we had first dated and the Sunday when we spent the afternoon and evening together having sex.

After standing in my kitchen area on the Friday in just my skirt bunched around my waist, my thong and strappy heels as Ellis had rather embarrassed but nevertheless thrilled me by making me cum so quickly, I had taken him upstairs to my bedroom. It was lit by just the streetlights in the courtyard that although a bit of pain when sleeping did create a rather romantic atmosphere for sex. I didn't switch any other lights on as we could see clearly enough standing beside my bed looking at each other.

Gazing right into his eyes I turned the crumpled-up skirt round so the zip was at the front and slid it down. He got the idea and slid his fly down. We removed my skirt and his trousers at the same time and looked at each other; me in just the skimpy, blue thong and him in his tight, white boxers the full erection of which made a delicious bulge right up the middle. He raised his eyebrows, I nodded and simultaneously I slid my knickers off and he his boxers.

His body took my breath away. In the two years since I had last seen it he had filled out and built it up with gym work he told me later. His muscles were clearly defined everywhere and were quite, but not body builder style, bulky. The light from outside lit him up well so that I could see there were no tan lines and that he was completely bald. I remembered his lovely thick but not overly long, circumcised dick and interestingly dangling balls like old friends!

"Oh Ellis you're beautiful," I sighed as we embraced .

As we kissed so I could not resist reaching down and holding his cock. It felt gorgeous. In each other's arms still with my shoes on we got on the bed. We didn't mess around with foreplay or teasing each other. We had done that downstairs and what we both needed now was a passionate, urgent fuck.

"Shall I wear something?"

"When did you last have sex?" I asked him.

"Last week?"

"How many women you been with in the past month or so?" I asked using the questionnaire I had read about in Cosmo.

"A couple or three."

"Then yes love you'd better."

I know men say it's better for them going 'bareback' and perhaps it is but it makes little or no difference to me.

"Oh fuck they're downstairs."

"Don't worry I've got some," I said rolling over and opening the bedside table drawer, pulling a pack out and throwing them to him and smiling said. "With my compliments."

Odd though it might be, I find watching a guy putting a condom on very sexy and I have often wished I could do that porn star trick of putting it into my mouth and fitting it on that way but I can't so I waited patiently as he got the condom out and slid it on.