Monday afternoon.
I’ve been out walking for a couple of hours and Lorraine’s car is parked in front of the house when I get back. She’s not in the house but the coffee pot is still hot, I fill a mug and wander out into the back garden.
I can see her, she’s sitting on the far edge of the garden at the table just inside the trees.
I wave and walk over, sit down beside her. ‘Had a good day?’ I ask.
‘I’ve had a lovely day thank you. How’s your’s been?’
‘Good thanks. Great walk, saw a stag way over on the other side, we’ll have a look over there tomorrow if you want, see if he’s still around. Like the hair by the way.’ I’d seen straight away that she’d had it done; it’s slightly shorter and much glossier than this morning, more full as well.
‘Ooh yes please, I’d love to see him. And thank you.’ She starts tapping the nails of one hand on the table.
I look down at her long, slender fingers: I’m reminded that I’d once asked her if she played piano: she didn’t. Her nails have been manicured and are now a deep gloss black, they definitely hadn’t been that this morning.
‘And you’ve had your nails done.’ I laugh.
‘Oh well spotted David.’
I’m not sure they suited her but they certainly matched her hair, and on a second, more surreptitious glance, I’m certain that she’s had something done with her eyebrows: they look shaped, sculpted even. She’s had quite a makeover.
‘Looks like you’ve had a bit of a pampering, good for you.’
She smiled but didn’t say anything.
‘I’ve been thinking about you. On my walk.’
She looked sideways at me. ‘Oh really? And what have you been thinking?’
I look back at her. ‘Well actually, I’ve been thinking about what I’d like to do with you, to you.’
She didn’t reply to that either, but her eyes narrowed and her tongue flitted across her bottom lip.
Putting my mug on the ground, I stand and move round to the opposite side of the table to her. Reaching out, I take her manicured hand in mine and pull it towards me, she has no option but to get up and stretch over the table, even when her thighs come up against the table edge I keep pulling. Until she’s stretched face down over the scrolled ironwork.
Trailing a hand down her back I retrace my steps until I’m standing behind her. She’s wearing her usual attire of loose fitting slacks, pullover and flat shoes,
‘You seem to have a thing about tables David.’ I hear her say.
Pressing up against her bum I stretch along her back, whisper in her ear. ‘It’s a domination thing Lorraine.’
She giggles. ‘You like dominating tables?’
‘Hmmm.’
Standing back upright I squeeze her bum then swat it, just once, but hard enough to shift the table half an inch.
Finding the zipper on her hip I pull it down then, tugging her slacks out from underneath her, I let them drop to her ankles.
Pulling a chair round I sit myself down behind her, might as well be comfortable, I’m planning on being here for a little while.
I run my hands up her legs and up onto the cheeks of her arse, pull her knickers off her pale bum then down her legs to her bunched up slacks. Lifting her feet I slip them both off and put them on her chair.
I ease her ankles apart, wider than I really needed to, but it means that she can’t stand, has to put her weight on the table.
I’d love to tie her down but I’ve nothing immediately to hand, I’ll have to save that particular pleasure for another time.
Her arse is perfectly placed; her hiking toned legs pale and smooth, the thick, rounded peach of her pussy on full view, her bum, equally pale, is stretched tight, the cheeks very slightly parted, the darker ring of her sphincter peeking out.
‘Still got a nice arse step-sister.’ I mutter.
I’m not interested in her pussy, well, I am, of course I am, but not this minute, much more interested in this.
And I dive in.
Straight in.
‘Ooh!’ She jumps in surprise. I’m not sure what she was expecting, but I’ve obviously caught her out.
I’d speared my tongue straight into her hole. It hadn’t got very far, she was far too tight for that, but we’ll work on it. Extensively.
And I start immediately. Prising her cheeks apart I burrow in; pushing my squirming tongue against her ring as hard as I can.
She groans and reaches back to grip her own bum cheeks, pulling them as far apart as she can. It would seem that she’s recovered from my surprise assault.
And I spend the next ten minutes eating her arse.
Very slowly it begins to give, the tip of my tongue easing through the ring of muscle. Little by little I burrow into her. She doesn’t resist but neither does she give easily.
Push and relax, push and relax, twisting and humping, my tongue continually assaulting her defences. Until I’m through. My tongue isn’t particularly long, but it’s long enough to get through her sphincter and beyond.
But it aches, aches to the point of pain.
I pull out, I got through, that was what I wanted, so far.
Start chewing on her: nibbling around the tender flesh. Nipping Magosa Escort and biting, pressing my teeth into her.
Sucking against her, pulling her against my face, sucking her bum into my mouth, pushing my rested tongue back through the tenderised ring of her anus, burrowing deeper still.
Sucking, chewing, biting, stabbing her for all I’m worth.
And always, Lorraine is pulling herself apart, trying to get her ring open for the taking.
A leg twitches and kicks out as her groans get louder.
And I pull harder, my fingers digging into her flesh, imprisoning her against my mouth.
Her leg quivers as she whimpers at my continuous rampage.
And my tongue goes deeper, her sphincter stretching.
Her leg quivers again, and again. Feel the heat and her cum on my chin.
Suck harder: a final, almost frenzied, attack that has her shaking and jumping.
Then I pull my tongue out, ease my aching face away from her, let her go and sit back, take a breath.
Stand.
She’s slumped across the table, legs hanging, arms draped over the edges.
I stroke her bum. Her arse is red, swollen, sopping with my saliva. I suck my middle finger and twist it to its full length into her ring. She doesn’t seem to notice until I hook it and rub around the walls of her bowel. She groans but otherwise doesn’t move.
I pull it out, suck it again.
Walking past her I look down, her eyes are open but unfocused, her gaze vacant, her mouth open, a pool of spit drips through the ironwork.
Leaning down to her ear I say, ‘Think you’d better come inside.’ And walk off towards the house, leaving her draped across the table.
She stops on the landing and looks at me sitting naked against the bed head. She’s fully dressed again, she looks a moment longer then turns and goes into her own bedroom. Minutes later she reappears, naked but for a pair of black hold-up stockings and black shoes.
Maybe I’m wrong, but I imagine that these are a product of today’s excursion, but you never know, perhaps they accompany Minnie on all her travels.
I don’t know if she’d seen the two leather cuffs hanging from the crossbeam of the four-poster, but she’s certainly seen them now, her eyes are fixed on them.
As she walks in and stops at the end of the bed.
Lorraine looks damn good. She’s not athletic or gym fit, she’s told me on many occasions that she hates going to gyms, but her walking and, I’m guessing, a decent diet have kept her this trim. She looks after herself, and it shows.
Those loose fitting clothes have been hiding a lot. Her pale skin is smooth, her curves where they should be. She has quite narrow hips, a slight waist but quite wide, almost bony, shoulders. Her legs look longer in those black stockings, the lace trim almost touching the junction of her thighs and her pubic hair has been trimmed to a perfect black triangle. Her stomach has a slight curve to it, her boobs are wonderfully shaped; not large, but not small, rounded and just touching with very small, dark areola and nipples.
She looks down at me, then her eyes flick down to the couple of things I’ve placed on the end of the bed. Definitely the first time she’s seen those.
She licks her lips again. There’s a hint of nervousness this time.
Standing, I take the few steps across the bed towards her.
This time her eyes are locked on the bouncing head of my cock as it advances towards her. It had wilted since my reaming of her, but, as I’d hung the cuffs and then sat thinking about what we were going to do with them, it had fully recovered to this throbbing bar of steel.
It stops an inch in front of her face.
I hold out a hand, catch her attention, she looks at it then up at me, I look back but don’t say anything. She lifts her hand and places it in mine.
Lifting it to the cuff I secure the buckle around her wrist. She’s still looking at me, a look of mild curiosity now in her eyes, she gives me her other hand without any prompting and I wrap the other cuff around the wrist and fasten the buckle.
Her arms are now spread wide above her head.
The obvious thing to do right now would be to fuck her face. But that’s not what I want, partially because I don’t think I’ll last long but mostly because I want something else.
Hopping down off the bed I walk behind her: I’m not going to delay matters, tease it out, she’s had the foreplay in the garden, although she might not call it that.
I take the blindfold off the bed, it’s black leather, padded, shaped like a pair of wide sunglasses, it really does block out everything. I settle it carefully over her eyes and fasten the small buckle.
The next item off the bed was perhaps the one Lorraine was most curious about. A gag.
It’s a thick, perhaps an inch in diameter, rubber tube, again black, with a narrow leather strap running through its centre.
I touch the rubber tube to her lips: having seen it on the bed, and probably expecting it after the blindfold, she opens her mouth, I slip it between her teeth and Kıbrıs Escort fasten the buckle at the back of her neck.
Lastly, I pull a spreader bar from under the bed and, despite not expecting it, she offers no resistance as I spread her feet and attach a cuff to each of her ankles.
I look up at her. She seems to tower above me, completely helpless to whatever I want to do. She has offered no resistance or uttered the slightest of sounds as I’ve restrained her; her arms stretched wide above her head, her ankles spread far apart.
But I’m not here to hurt her, don’t want to cause pain. I just want to pleasure.
And maybe a little……discomfort.
I touch my face to her shoe. They’re new, the smell of leather strong.
I brush my lips across her ankle, rub up and down her leg: her stocking is silky smooth, feels delicate, expensive.
Keep moving up the back of her thigh, reach the wide lace trim, keep moving onto her warm flesh, reach the crease under her bum, push my tongue into it. Then across to her other cheek, stroke my face up and down her other stockinged leg.
Then back to her bum.
I stand up and my rampant cock goes straight between her thighs.
She twitches in her shackles.
I press myself against her, wrap my arms around her. Run my hands over her, trail my fingers everywhere they can reach; from her stocking tops to her face, all the flowing angles and curves.
And her nails aren’t the only things that have been manicured. Around that trimmed and shaped triangle it is velvet smooth, her armpits satin soft.
Her stomach is equally soft, I feel a fluttering at my touch.
Her breasts have lost that elasticity of youth but now have that lustrous, slightly looser, feel, they’re not so big that they’re beginning to drop and their warm pliability feels delicious in my hands, her small nipples perky under my fingers.
Her face is all angles and flat planes. My fingertips follow each one; from her chin to her ears, her cheekbones to the point of her nose. In a spur of the moment decision I push the blindfold off. Trace her new eyebrows, the hollows of her eyes, brush across her eyelashes, down the sharp ridge of her nose. Stroke along her lips, then the saliva wet rubber of the gag.
I begin to move my hips, a slow back and forth that drags and pushes my cock along her pussy.
Her hips move in response, her bum softly bumping into my hips.
Then I stop, reach down and take the last item off the bed. She watches, moans into the gag.
I squeeze a bead of lube onto my finger and, pushing my hand down between us, rub it around her anus.
Her breathing starts to hiss.
‘I’m going to fuck your arse Lorraine.’ I whisper into her ear. She moans around the gag.
More lube on my finger and I press against the resistance. Her ring, already punished, gives, and my fingertip slips into her.
She groans and her sphincter grips at my finger.
I slide it in and out, deeper and deeper, all the way in, all the way out. A second finger joins the first, she resists, surrenders, and I ease her apart, slide in.
Her groans turn to growls as I fuck my fingers into her body, twisting and hooking them, stroking the walls of her rectum.
I touch my cock to my invading fingers, slather myself in lube.
Touch my cock-head to her stretched ring.
Slip my fingers out and push with my hips.
An instant of pressure and my cock sinks in. Just the first inch, the widest part of me, pushes into the ring of muscle.
I stop, relish the feeling as Lorraine’s groans get louder and she pushes back against me.
Put my lips back to her ear. ‘Mmmm that feels good.’
Take hold of her hips and rock mine. Slowly pump that inch, my cock-head popping in and out of her gripping sphincter. She moans around the gag, her breath still hissing.
‘Mmmmm, can you feel that step-sister? Sooo fucking good.’
Her sphincter squeezes and she pushes her bum back.
‘Mmmmm, you want more?’ I start to lengthen my strokes, pushing further and further into her arse.
She mumbles wetly.
‘And even more?’ My strokes get longer and then I’m all the way in, pressed up against her arse, the tip of my cock deep inside her bowels, my face pressed against hers, the gags strap digging into my cheek.
Then I start again. Long, burrowing strokes that feel as though I’m all the way up inside her arse.
I reach round and down, down between her thighs, down to her pussy.
Find her wet heat, rub my finger up and down, slip inside her, one finger becomes two.
Rubbing up and down, squeezing her in my hand; fingers from inside, palm from outside, squeezing back and forth.
Her body trapped between my cock and my hand. I pleasure myself and I pleasure her. Screwing her arse and screwing her pussy. It’s such a different feeling; between an arse and a pussy. The tight grip of the sphincter that slowly gives as the muscle stretches, and the liquid tunnel of a rectum that swallows your invading cock until you’re ready Lefkoşa Escort to fill the void with cum.
She starts to squirm against me: my cock pumping her arse, my hand squeezing her pussy. She’s gripping the chains of the cuffs over her head, bouncing against the cuffs binding her ankles, I’m holding her with one hand, fucking her with the other as I pound her from behind.
And I’m about ready to unload: the soft, wet enveloping heat of her arse is bringing me closer and closer, the elastic grip of her sphincter is drawing me out. It feels as though my own arse is tingling, the beginnings of an orgasm building.
I’m suddenly aware that she’s gurgling, that my hand is sopping with her juices.
‘I’m going to cum Lorraine, going to pump it into your arse. Fuuuuuck.’
And she gets the first burning jet of cum. I’m as far inside her as I can get. And that’s where she gets it. In fact, that’s where she gets it all. I don’t move for minutes. Just my arse clenched, my cock ejaculating time and again, thick spurts of cum as far inside her as I can reach.
Until the high falls away and all my body wants to do is slump to the floor and go to sleep.
I stand, still pressed up against her, until the urge passes. Then gently step back, letting my already slackening cock slither out of her.
Carefully I undo the buckle at the back of her head and ease the gag from her mouth. Then release the bar from her ankles and make sure she’s standing before unfastening each of the wrist cuffs and letting her hands down.
She slowly slumps forward and rolls onto the bed, her eyes closed.
I watch her, slightly anxious.
She pulls her knees up to her chest, and I get a view of her ravaged arse, a dribble of cum seeping out, a longer dribble down the back of one thigh.
Her legs rock to one side and she looks at me, opens her mouth and stretches it, eases the ache. ‘Fuck David,’ she croaks, ‘where did that come from? Fuuuuck.’ Her voice trails away to a breath.
I grinned in relief, knowing that I hadn’t gone too far.
Tuesday morning.
It’s late morning and we’re at the kitchen table. It’s a bit drizzly today and we’re just back from a short walk: wet boots at the door, sitting in our socks drinking coffee.
‘You’re not what I expected David, this……sex, isn’t what I’d expected, what I’d planned.’
She’s caught me out here, caught me on the hop. ‘I hope I haven’t overstepped the mark?’
She sat for a moment, considering what to say. ‘I did wonder if I’d started something I shouldn’t have, after my bath; when you came in. And I was a little anxious the next morning, wondering what we would say to each other. But then it all seemed to happen, unrehearsed. I hadn’t planned any of that; what I said, trying to catch you out, it just came out. And then yesterday, wow! Maybe we’ve both overstepped something, but I don’t care, I’m glad, I needed this. And I don’t want to stop.’ She looked at me. ‘Please.’
I smiled at her, nodded gently. We’d made a pact. A secret. ‘That’s good, because neither do I.’
She blew out a breath, as though she’d said something that she’d needed to say, and was now relieved that she’d said it. Then. ‘But tell me, just how much sex do you get?’
I wondered, was this now a jealousy question? I looked at her and thought about how to respond. I don’t need jealousy, if that was what this was leading to then I needed to stop it now rather than have to deal with it later down the line.
‘I get more than enough. A surprising amount really, considering my age. Why do you ask?’ See what she said.
‘Honestly David, I’m just curious.’ And you know what they say about people who say “honestly”.
She must have guessed my thoughts. ‘No really, I really am curious. I know that sex isn’t everything but it’s still a big thing. And I know that you’ve always been single but you’re clearly a sexual person, so I really am just curious.’
She paused, in thought, then. ‘Sooo, is it just women?’
I laughed, blimey. ‘Now you’re conducting a study?’
‘No, no, noooo. I’m just……, you know.’
I laughed again. ‘I know, you’re curious. I’m sorry, for teasing you. And no, it’s not just women, occasionally men as well, but hardly ever, I really have to be attracted to a guy to have sex with him, I mean really attracted.’ I decided not to tell her about Nicky, Nicky was a million miles from being a man, but, to Lorraine, she might just be a little too complicated, for now, maybe another time. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I have to be attracted to a woman as well, but it’s a purely physical thing with a man, for me anyway. But with a woman it’s far more than just that. So I don’t chase every woman in the street, there has to be some kind of attraction, a connection, it’s quite hard to describe really, it’s nowhere near love but it’s deeper than just lust.’ I grinned. ‘Mostly anyway. Sorry, I’m rambling.’
‘No you’re not. I love how you describe it; “deeper than lust”. I’m jealous, of your sex life. I love sex, crave it even, and it used to be good, not brilliant, but good. But over the past few years it’s just died. I needed to know how much I missed it, and you’ve done that, shown me, but I really didn’t plan this, didn’t come here for sex, I really did need the break, and, somehow, I knew that you wouldn’t judge me. But, thank you anyway, for showing me.