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Previously: Jinny, a very young woman began a sexual relationship with a man in his late sixties that culminated in consummation on his marital bed and his wife’s discovery of their sordid secret sex. This Chapter: Making It Up To Miriam.
A final dew-drop of milky gloop formed at the tip of Larry’s cock as he stood holding it; he was motionless, coming to terms with his wife’s discovery of his infidelity. I too was shocked into inaction, lying on the bed, besplattered with his jism. He seemed to shake off his wife’s departure with a shrug and wiped the final drops of his liquid essence up and down my nylon-covered legs. I felt a secret thrill, which I didn’t comment on, at how sexily dirty it looked to watch his cum soaking into my torn, black, patterned pantyhose. He crossed to his bedroom window and looked out at the recently vacated driveway.
“Shit, Larry, I’m sorry.”
“What will you do?”
I was trying to appear all grown up and caring but my pussy was throbbing like a bitch and I couldn’t help fingering myself in my post-orgasmic bliss; troubled though I was by feelings of guilt I was still as horny as a beast in heat. My pussy knew no shame, I learned that day. Larry joined me on the bed and we lay together in our ruffled mess.
“I’ll, er, own up, be completely honest and accept whatever wrath she decides on,” he said, flatly.
He turned to me with saddened eyes. I kissed him, I couldn’t help kissing him, even at this traumatic moment.
“I may have to agree to never to see you again,” he said.
“Fuck. Yes. I understand. But… fuck.”
We lay in our disordered bed of woe and looked up at his bedroom ceiling.
“Do you think she’ll be gone long?” I asked.
“I… I don’t know, this has never happened before. She’ll probably need a while to cool off. Or maybe she’s gone to buy a handgun and box of bullets.”
I felt him turn to look at me, I kept my eyes glued to the ceiling.
“It’s just that, um, if this is maybe the last time…”
“Do you think we have enough time for another go?”
Larry chuckled. I placed my hands on his chest then leaned my chin on my hands and fixed him with my sultriest pout.
“I’m serious,” I said.
“I know you are,” he laughed then kissed me, “You’ve had a taste of luscious Larry’s lovin’ and now you can’t get enough!”
“I know you’re joking but you’re not wrong. I wanna do it some more. C’monnn.”
I whined like the petulant teen I was. I snaked my body over his, I could feel my cum smeared skin sliding on his belly.
“Don’t deny me Larry’s lovin’,” I said as my hand sought out his cock and balls to tantalise.
“Hey, I’m not objecting. If you can get it up, kid, you can fuck it.”
I swivelled around on top of him and rubbed my wet pussylips on his face as I began a series of kisses and licks and dextrous manipulations of his prick. I could tell he liked kissing my cunt, even if we did both now taste of lubricated latex, but after a few minutes of this mutual canoodling he was only partially stiff. I swivelled back around and snuggled in close to him. I kissed his face, his neck, his chest. I hooked my leg over his and I stroked his dick, rubbing the sticky head against my tattered tights.
“What more can I do to help it, Larry?”
“Tell me what’s on your dirty mind.”
“You mean other than that you were the first ever to violate my innocent young body? You broke me in for all other lovers with your big sexy dick.”
“Mmm, I did, didn’t I?”
“And…” I pondered, “How about the fact that I’ve been kissing you even though you were eating my ass?”
“Yes, yes you have.”
“And I can smell my butthole on you when I kiss you?”
We kissed, softly and sensuously, our lips mashing gently together as my hand moved his dick against my nylon thigh.
“What else are you thinking?” Larry asked with a glint in his eyes.
“I found it thrilling when… when you said I was your whore.”
“You liked that, huh?”
“Mmm umm,” I said as we kissed.
“You filthy little whore.”
“Mmm mm. Cheap too.”
“You cheap teenage cunt.”
“Did you like breaking me in? The first man inside my virgin cunt? Was I tight, Larry? Was my dirty little cunt tight enough for y-is it working?”
We both looked down to see his fat old dick had grown to full length and thickness, the head swelling and darkening to its blood-red hue, the colour of my lipstick (chosen not accidentally).
“Why don’t you jump up on it and see if it’s working?”
Larry lifted my body up and my hand guided his shiny and erect prick up inside me. I sank down on his proudly probing penis and began to work my pussy up and down on it, circling my hips as I fucked him like a cheap whore (not that I knew how whores fucked). My hands were on his chest and I leaned my weight upon him as I rubbed my cunt along his long dick and back again, again and again, building on the increasingly warm and lovely feelings of happiness. My brain had one thought and one thought alone: I like fucking, I’m going to have to do more of this!
“I love your dick, Larry,” I purred as I screwed the old man.
“And my dick loves you,” he laughed.
“Am antalya escort I a slut for liking it so much?”
“Right now you are, my gothic teenage slut.”
“All yours, Larry.”
He groped my boobs and molested my nipples perfectly with his agile fingers. My pussy was creaming his cock with my every movement. I leaned back and pleasured myself on his thick, hard shaft, using him like a flesh dildo.
“Jinny, you look amazing!” he said.
I opened my eyes to see him gazing in awe at me and I saw myself through his eyes; I felt glorious. I saw him admire my naked majesty and it made me so powerfully horny that I owned the fluttering fluid-like spears of pleasure that were coursing up through me. I tried to speak but I merely gurgled, my voice trembling. He held my hips and began to shove violently upwards, up into my body, into the velvet void inside me, up into my soul. His cockhead was banging on just the right part of me to make my brain spin. I thought to myself that I must remember where that is, within the canyon of my cunt, I needed to find that spot again, on my own, to revisit the outrageous quakes that wobbled my muscles like jelly and stretched my tendons taught. I dared not alter my position as I screwed myself down hard on his dick. This was the spot! This was the right fucking spot! He banged it again and again and again and my first fearsome, brain-spangling, blood-curdling, seemingly life-threatening orgasm overtook me. I had come before, but not like this.
My rude exclamation was lost in my panting as I climaxed on his fat cock. My eyes were closed as I watched a cosmic firework display that lit up my skin from some interior source of volcanic heat. I rode his dick until my tremors and trembles began to subside.
“Shit, the condom! Jinny, I’m sorry, I clean forgot.”
I looked at him, screwing him slowly, my breathing slowing down. I smirked and skewed my eyebrows sceptically.
“Genuinely,” he said in response to my look of disbelief, “Truly I forgot.”
He looked distressed. I leaned my body down, ever-so-slowly working my pulsing, throbbing pussy on his still raging hard-on.
“Shhhh, it’s okay,” I said, “I forgot too.”
“We should stop before you make me spunk again.”
I laid my head on his chest and fell still and quiet, gazing at absolutely nothing. My pussy had other ideas and contracted around his dick.
“Yes,” I said weakly, “We should stop.”
I made no move to get off him so, being the gentleman he is, Larry’s strong arms lifted me up and he wriggled around to manoeuvre his prick out of my tightly clenched slit. My wet cunt let out a small ‘plop’ as he pulled his swollen helmet out and it sent a shiver of desire through my entire being.
“Mmmm,” I sighed and rubbed his big beer-belly.
I walked up Larry’s street with a firm resolve but when I got to his house my confidence drained from me like dishwater down a plughole. I almost turned around and walked away. I forced some steel into my nerves and instead walked up his drive and rang the doorbell. Larry’s wife opened the door, holding a cup of coffee; her crystal-blue eyes blazed with incredulity.
“What the hell’re you doing here!? He’s at work, you spastic little whore!”
She slammed the door and I took a moment to reel from her spewed bile. I thought: That’s fair enough. I deserved that. I rang the doorbell again. The door whisked open and the contents of her cup was flung in my face. I was thankful it wasn’t a hot, freshly made drink. Cool coffee dribbled down my forehead and ski-jumped off the end of my nose.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re twisted little game is,” she spat, “Or what you want, but just piss off!”
“I wanted,” I paused to wipe my dripping mouth, “I wanted to apologise.”
She looked at me, clearly confused. I wiped my eyes free of some coffee that had ran down my hair.
“To you,” I added, wanting to be precise.
“Go on then.”
Larry’s wife tilted her head back imperiously and waited. She glared at me like a gorgon. I shuffled my feet and felt like a sky-diver about to jump out of an aeroplane with no parachute.
“I, um, got carried away… with what I was doing, with feelings I’d never felt before. I gave no thought to how you would feel, or how cruel it was, or, er, well, I gave you no consideration at all really. And I’m sorry for that. I feel terrible. I didn’t mean any… harm.”
Larry’s wife assessed my intentions for a minute then invited me inside. I followed her into the kitchen where she threw me a dishcloth. I wiped my face and hair.
“Come here,” she said then took the cloth from me, “You’ve smudged your make up. And you wear a lot of make up.”
She wiped my lips and eyes with a maternal care. I hadn’t planned on getting a faceful of coffee when I’d carefully applied my gothic eyeshadow and mascara that morning.
“Thank you,” I said, just centimetres away from her face.
“You’re a pretty little thing, I can see why he likes you.”
I blushed. She turned away and looked out of her kitchen window.
“I was a skinny bitch like you once, believe or not. Now I’m just a fat middle-aged frump.”
I felt she was fethiye escort fishing for a compliment. She was as graceful and attractive in real life as in her photographs. I thought she had a statuesque beauty that would never fade with age. She was elegant and enchanting. Her cascading, long, jet-black, wavy hair made me conscious of my own scruffy, disobedient black spikes. Her boobs, I noted with envy, were perfectly round and very large (and invitingly touchable). I couldn’t keep my eyes from following the curves of her long, shapely legs, accentuated by opaque black tights and only partially concealed by her thigh length skirt. The only incongruous feature of her appearance was the pair of worn, fluffy house-slippers she was wearing. She must’ve felt my enemy gaze upon her body because she flashed me a defiant look.
“How did you two even meet?” Larry’s wife asked.
“We worked together at Harringtons. I was assigned to his delivery van.”
She sat down at her dining table and beckoned me to join her. I sat opposite, still feeling very much like a guilty child.
“But… how did it begin? I mean, I can see why he would fall for you, you’re lovely and the gothic thing? I bet men find that very kinky. But, but even to me he’s an old man, to you he must seem ancient.”
She waited for an answer. How could I explain something for which I had no explanation.
“It began as flirting,” I said, “And, er, just playing around. Then there was some touching. Some… kissing. And more touching.”
“What kind of touching?”
I flushed a deep crimson and couldn’t answer. Her eyes were boring into my soul.
“How many times did you fuck my husband?”
I don’t know why but I thought maybe telling her it was only once may somehow mitigate my offence.
“I’m sorry we did it on your bed. I… that… that was the first time. That was my first time.”
“Really? Then we have that in common. Larry popped my cherry too. I was still in highschool, he was few years older. We got married when I fell pregnant.”
I looked at her, she did seem to be a lot younger than him.
“I need a coffee,” she said then looked at my besmeared face.
I thought for a moment she was considering apologising for throwing her previous coffee all over me but she shrugged it off and stood to operate the expensive-looking coffee machine.
“What did he tell you about me?” Larry’s wife asked without looking at me.
“He said he loves you dearly, but that you… haven’t, erm…”
“Had sex in a long time?”
“He said it was coming up to ten years.”
“I suppose it is, yes. Life flashes by at my age, you know? You’ll find out. If you aren’t murdered by an irate wife before then.”
I let her threat hang in the air.
“He, erm, doesn’t know why you stopped,” I said, “He’s still crazy in love with you but… he figures you just don’t find him sexy anymore. He puts it down to being a wrinkly, chubby old geezer.”
“That didn’t put you off though, did it?”
I had no answer to that. She sat down as her percolator percolated audibly.
“It’s not that I’m not interested in sex,” she said, “I’m just not interested in sex with him.”
“The truth is, I don’t find him remotely attractive. Not just him, I don’t find any men attractive.”
I felt ashamed that my mind instantly raised a series of images of his naked body, of his big old dick, of his grey pubes and chest hair, of him banging me in a variety of positions. Luckily, Larry’s wife could not read my fetid mind.
“As our marriage wore on and our kids grew up, I stopped thinking of myself as The Wife, The Mother. I found my natural, um, inclinations reasserting themselves. To be blunt, I’m a lesbian.”
She dropped the word like a bomb and was a little disappointed by my lack of reaction. I’d had a girlfriend in highschool but we never took it to a physical level and she kind of broke my heart when he wanted to start dating boys; I couldn’t fathom why on Earth she’d be interested in them. Liking girls just seemed completely natural to me.
“I had to ask myself: Do I want to keep having sex with someone I don’t want to have sex with?”
“Of course you shouldn’t,” I answered quickly.
“Quite. I suppose I should’ve divorced him, so he’d be free to pursue my replacement but, in all other aspects, we are happily married. Or we were.”
That last comment was barbed in my direction.
“I’m… sorry,” I said.
My eyes were downcast, I’d almost forgotten I was here to grovel.
“I’ve had nine affairs and two casual flings during our marriage.”
“I don’t think Larry has any idea!”
“Really? I thought… I thought we just had an unspoken agreement. You surely can’t be his first, um…”
I could tell she didn’t want to use the unkind words that had formed in her mouth.
“You want some coffee?”
I declined politely. She got up, made her drink then leaned back against the kitchen counter and sipped from her cup, watching me. I saw the steam vapour and hoped she wasn’t going to throw it over me.
She frowned as she asked, “Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You look awfully familiar.”
“Do kaş escort you shop on Robson Street?”
“Sure, sometimes, why?”
The words caught in my throat, “I’m the ‘Eat My Doughnut’ girl.”
Larry’s wife burst into a malicious cackle. I smiled ruefully, this was often people’s reaction when I told them my job.
She was still chortling as she asked, “Do guys ask if they can eat your doughnut?”
“Only about five hundred times a day.”
“Do women ask you?”
“Once or twice, yeah.”
“Do you mind that?”
“No, of course, they’re much more, um, they ask nicer than the men.”
She walked across the kitchen, her slippers shuffling on the hard floor, and stood in front of me. I recognised her perfume from inside Larry’s car. It was delicious, I wanted to ask her what it was but I reminded myself that we weren’t bosom buddies. She put her coffee cup on the table and ran her fingers through some curls in her coal-dark hair.
“So you don’t mind women coming on to you?”
“Um, no, I…”
She gently touched my chin, lifting my face to look up at her (over the mountainous vista of her seemingly enormous breasts).
“How old are you?”
“When I implied I only like women, that wasn’t entirely true. You see, my actual preference… is for young girls.”
“How much do you want to make it up to me?”
Using only the lightest of touches under my chin, she lifted me up out of my seat and brought me closer to her. I was under her spell. Her dark eyes swallowed me whole. Her full, rosy lips were disconcertingly close to mine. She kissed me. A tingle ran through my entire body. Her lips were sooooooo soft. I kissed her back eagerly then she leaned back to view my reaction and I saw her wicked smile for the first time. I returned a smile and we kissed again, longer, softer and more meaningful than the first. Her firm breasts pressed against my own inferior bubs. After a few minutes of delectable and sensual kissing and stroking my arms and touching my face, she, again with the lightest of touches, put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me down.
I was flying by the seat of my pants as I knelt on her kitchen floor. I looked up at her even more wicked smile and was bewitched. I looked on in wonder as this mature woman scrunched up her skirt at the sides, raising the hem until she wore her skirt like a belt. I took the longest time in gazing in wonder at her beautiful body. The revelation of her long, graceful legs closely wrapped in thick tights was causing my heart to stop beating. As her pantyhose stretched over her ample curves, they became transparent enough to reveal further her chubby thighs and the curve of her mound decorated by a trimmed, neat, dark, curly bush.
“Did he even tell you my name?” she asked.
It felt like she was pushing an extra spike of shame into my guilt.
“I’m Miriam, what’s your name?”
“I know, I know. I don’t look like a Jinny, it’s too cutesy a name for me.”
“It’s a lovely name. Jinny, pull down my tights.”
Even if she hadn’t just ordered me, I couldn’t have held back much longer. My hands sailed slowly up her legs and she adjusted her stance so they parted. I was careful not to scratch her with my nails as I hooked my fingers into her warm, moist waistband and tugged. I had my own wicked smile as I exposed her. This was like Christmas morning as I unwrapped my present. When I got her hose down to her ankles she lifted her feet to allow me to remove her fluffy old slippers and then the tights. Once naked from the waist down, I couldn’t resist her any longer. Eagerly I pressed my face to her furry pussy and washed my tongue in her flowing honey. I was gratified that she was obviously as excited by me as I was by her. I lapped like a grateful pet at her juicy slit. I felt her patting my head.
“Good girl,” she said.
My tongue pried open her labia and I probed deeper as I licked. She leaned back and I lowered myself, crouching so I could worm my sneaky tongue even further into her.
“Mmm, good girl,” she repeated.
I swivelled my tongue amateurishly for a long time, pausing only to swallow her viscous warm juices with delight, until she touched my face and I looked up. She looked so serious. Was she displeased? Was I a joke to her? Some vengeful prank? A sudden crisis of confidence broke me down and I dropped on my ass and hugged my knees.
“Why’d you stop?” Miriam asked, “Don’t you like it?”
“I, er, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You were doing fine.”
We both looked away from each other, the awkwardness was palpable.
“Teach me?” I said, quietly.
Her wicked sexy smile returned and she held out her hand. I grasped it and she pulled me to my feet. She kissed my cummy lips and lead me by my hand upstairs. I watched her glorious naked, sixty-something year-old asscheeks wobbling as she walked before me. She lead me into the bedroom I had violated. We kissed as we undressed each other. There were no words. I felt a deep understanding with this woman, even though I barely knew her. I beheld her nude splendour and she seemed satisfied by my adoration. I kissed her voluptuous breasts and then she kissed mine and for a while we took turns suckling on each other’s nipples. It was during this mutual nurturing that I felt for the first time another woman’s fingers push up into my pussy. She fingered me expertly, my knees were weakened.
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