Erotic – Hot Stories

March 29, 2010

Erotic Hot Stories – Lolling with Laxmi Ch. 01

Filed under: Erotic Hot Stories — erotichotstories @ 10:08 am
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If you enter my office, the first thing you are bound to notice is my secretary Laxmi. She sits right outside my cabin facing the main door and has been refusing to be moved from there.

You will notice her not just because she is out there in the front, but because she has a personality and body which no one can ignore. She is petite and very fair, has large black eyes and jet black hair. She can say so many things with her eyes, just looking at you. That is why a shy person like me… But wait, let me not get ahead of the story.

The next thing(s) which you are bound to notice depends on whether she is standing or sitting, and whether she is facing you or has turned around. You know what I mean. Well, now let’s move on…

One Sunday afternoon, I was alone in the office. I had been away on tour for almost a week and had returned only the previous evening. Usually, when I work on a holiday – which I often do – I lock the outer office door and work in my cabin. I have a rather large couch in the inner area of my cabin to rest when I feel tired.

But that day I had left the outer door open on purpose for I was waiting for my secretary. The previous evening, when she was leaving, I had requested her to come on Sunday to attend to some urgent work.

As I sat there, going through the pile of papers on my table, I saw a shadow on my table and looked up to see my secretary Laxmi, peerping through the cabin door. As I looked at her she said, “May I come in, sir?”

“Please come in, Laxmi,” I said, “I have called you for some personal work today.” I said.

What I did not say aloud was that she was welcome any time. She was a watcher’s delight and, every day as she sat in the outer office, I watch her beautiful behind whole day through the one way glass of my cabin. I get to see the front view, only when she comes in :). Her presence always excites me sexually. I had sensed that she felt the same in my presence. However, matters had not progressed beyond flirting when our fingertips touched during the course of work, sending electrifying waves to my brain, which my wife says, is located in my groin:) When this incident happened, Laxmi had been with me for six months, minus the 1 month leave she had taken recently and had joined only a week back.

Now as she entered my cabin, her pallu slipped a few inches down from one shoulder. I realized that she was wearing a beautifully embroidered bra under her semitransparent white silk blouse. The edges of the bra and spaghetti thin elastic straps formed a beautiful pattern, and were visible through the thin transluscent blouse material.

“I learnt from the office staff that you often come alone to office on Sundays.” Laxmi said. “You wanted to meet me alone?”

“Yes. Please lock the door, so that we are not disturbed and then take a seat.” I invited her. She turned the key in the lock without a question and came and sat in front of me, resting her elbows on my tabletop and joining her fingers under her chin. This way I had a closer view of her white-clad boobs – one was partially hidden under the pallu but the beautiful pattern on the other one was now clearly visible at close range.

She saw where I was looking, and her eyes quickly looked down at her own bosom. But without making any move to lift the pallu back in its position she looked back with smouldering eyes straight in my eyes. She knew I was watching her breasts and she was clearly challenging me to squeeze them. With that glance, that moment I knew that she and I were going to be fulfledged lovers before we left office that afternoon. This immediately set things rolling.

“Laxmi,” I began, and surprisingly my voice had become a little hoarse, “You remember what you had said when you had come to me to ask for the month’s leave?”

“Ofcourse, I do. I rember how I blurted out to you the real reason for the leave. I had come when all the staff had left and you were sitting alone in your cabin that evening too.” answered Laxmi. Her eyes flashed electric sparks, and the silky smooth pallu slid further down her shoulder. This way, I had visual access to the pattern on the other round beauty too. “those days I was getting frequently pregnant, almost every time I had unprotected ….” She left the phrase unuttered “I wanted to get tubectomy done and wanted leave from the office.”

“That is exactly what I want to discuss with you today. I want my wife Pam to undergo the same operation, but I have some apprehensions. I want to know some facts about a woman’s sex life after the operation. Since I do not know any one who can give me first hand experience, I thought of you. Do you mind discussing?” I began. For a second, I thought she might tell me to consult a gynec.

“With you I am willing to discuss every thing about it. I myself had some apprehensions, and had discussions with my …partners.” I noticed the use of plural in the last word.

“I need information on some very intimate topics…” I said, feeling happy that she had not outright rejected the discussion.

“Sir, with you I am ready to share intimate matters.” My secretary’s answer was more than encouraging.

“Laxmi, thanks again. I feel very comfortable discussing my sex life with you. To start with, my wife too gets pregnant every time I have unprotected … intercourse with her.” I used the word she had left unuttered. Color started rising in her cheeks and I could feel the discussion was exciting her as much as it was exciting me.

“So do I.” she dropped her voice to a confidential whisper. But her cheeks were now a rosy pink and her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “I enjoy the direct contact of …” again she left the word unuttered again.

She announced in the conspiratorial tone again. “There is nothing more pleasurable than the direct feel of …” she again left the words unuttered but the meaning was not unsaid.

“There were times when I used condoms with Pam many times when we were young college-going students…” I was saying, but Laxmi had caught on to the real meaning of my sentence. She interruped with,

“Oh, so just like I did, your wife too had started before marriage?” she seemed to be excited by the idea.

“Yes, but it was only with me.” I said. A look of obvious disbelief came over Laxmi’s face.

I continued, “But the same can’t be said of me; she wasn’t the only one I had before marriage. I had other women much before I started with her. My first one was with a matured lady, when I was only fourteen years of age. Before that I had regularly explored our anatomy with a couple of boys.”

“Like you, I too started in teen-age” she volunteered. “But,” she then asked, “how can you be sure that Pam did not have her urge taken care of by some one before you?”

“I just know it.” I replied.

“How did it happen?”

“I want to ask you some questions about your sex life before and after the operation.” I interrupted, avoiding to bring my wife further in to this discussion, any more than was absolutely essential.

“Please do ask me what you want to ask.”

“Laxmi, I can guess that you had a very strong sex urge right from your young age, and you yourself told me you were having it before marriage; now has your sex urge decreased due to the operation? Because, that is one thing I do not want to happen to Pam. I need her every night at least once.” I said.

“Oh, no sir, my sexual urge has not at all decreased, on the other hand it has increased several fold. Because now I can have it any time, any where, with any one, without fear of getting pregnant. And I don’t miss a single opportunity.” Laxmi declared.

“Laxmi, tell me,” I noticed the words ‘any one’. I decided it was high time to take the initiative that in most cases, even a sexually aroused female wants the male to take. All of a sudden I leaned forward across the table and inserted my index and middle finger underneath her blouse and bra; I felt the soft yet taut, fair surface of her boob, but withdrew my hand quickly before she could react. Although my movements were a surprise to her, her body had reacted involuntarily and thrust her breast forward in anticipation. As I quickly withdrew my hand a gasp escaped her half-parted lips, it seemed more out of disappointment than surprise.

“I think an insect, most probably an ant, has entered your bra. But it moved deeper, before I could catch it.”

“My god!” she exclaimed, “what will I do now? What if the ant bites my soft breasts. You must have felt how soft I am there.” It was obvious that she was responding to my ploy positively.

“We will have to look deeper under your bra to catch it.” I said.

“Please look whereever you think it is necessary to look – but please remove the insect, please.” she begged and inserting her hand under her blouse bra began searching.

I got up from my chair and walked over so that I was behind her chair. She leaned backwards and looked at me with her head thrown back. I held her small but firm boobs in my palms and started feeling under the fabric.

“I will check both your breasts simultaneously,” I said, “so that it should not run from one to the other as I try to catch it.”

“This is a very good idea,” said Laxmi, “please take both of them and check thoroughly.”

I cupped both her boobs in my palms and started rubbing them gently. However, I did not touch the area of her nipples directly.

“Did you catch it?” she asked, “please catch it as early as possible.”

“I think the fabric is coming in the way…” I said.

“Then remove it forthwith,” she gave me full permission.

Standing close to her, and with her face turned up towards me, I noticed a tiny mole on her upper lip. Her lips were half parted and her breathing had become faster. My own breathing had become rather heavy in anticipation of the promise of the wonderful afternoon of sex awaiting me.

Suddenly I placed my lips on hers and put only a slight pressure on them. This again was not anticipated by her. In the brief second she realized that I was kissing her, her lips had already started reacting involuntarily by pressing back against my lips. The moment I felt the pressure of her responding lips I removed my lips, once again leaving her panting with desire.

“Sorry, Laxmi,” I said, “I mistook the mole for the ant. I thought the ant had realized that it had left your sweet lips untouched before proceeding in to your bra, and realizing its mistake had come back to taste the wonderful honey on your lips.”

“And how did you know my lips were sweet?” asked the darling fluttering her eye lashes.

“I just tasted them.” I said smiling.

“And how did you know what the ant wanted?” she asked again in a low husky voice.

“I think it is a male ant, judging from its eagerness to get into your bra,” I replied, “and I know what a male, any male would think about your body… exactly what I myself as a male would love to do with your body…”

“Then tell me what would be your… I mean the male ant’s… next move?” Laxmi invited me into further action. Without a word, I instantly moved my hands to her pallu and removing it out of my way, undid all the buttons on her blouse. My action was so quick, she was left gasping. Then slowly and deliberately, I pushed the two open front pieces of her blouse aside, and pushing them a few inches off her beautiful round shoulders, started examining her bra-clad breasts methodically.

An exotic perfume filled my nostrils. She must have applied it under her arms. I touched the skin between her clevage tentatively with my fingers and then moved them all over her bra as if feeling for the wandering insect. Blood rushed to her cheeks. I bent forward to get a better view and my cheek almost touched hers. A few stray curls of her hair which had come loose from her braid brushed against my cheek. Very tenderly I squeezed her boobs.

“Please check them thoroughly,” she whispered, “I am really scared of insects.”

Without warning, I caught hold of her blouse fronts and quickly and roughly pushed them back and down. She responded with a small yelp of excitement, saying,

“How violent you were after all the tender squeezing, I felt as if some one was undressing me to rape me…” But the manner in which she said it would have encouraged any prospective rapist! She raised herself from the chair, so that I could slide the blouse down her arms. In doing so her boobs jutted forward and outward. I took off her blouse it had the exhilirating mixture of the scent of the sweat from her armpits and the scent she had applied.

I caught her upturned chin and once again placed my lips on hers. This time her response was quick and complete. Before I had time to pull back, she started a very wet and passionate kiss. Losing control, I too started kissing back with equal fervour. Our lips curled against each other and tiny sounds escaped at intervals from our moist mouths. I started moving my palms over her shoulders, which were now naked except for the bra straps. I traced the straps down to the bra cups. Her boobs were not as large and as full as my wife Pam’s, but they were much more perky and hard. It has always surprised me that hard boobs have very soft skin. I moved my hands all around them and then squeezed them again. She let go a sigh of desire and slumped back against me.

I moved my hands down towards her flat belly and started circling her navel in a slow gentle motion.

She abruptly shifted away from me disengaging our kiss.

“Did you get what you wanted form my lips … the ant?” she asked with a smile.

“No, not yet,” I replied, “I think after tasting your lips, it must have gone deeper to lick your tongue.”

“It’s possible, but I have another idea. Supposing it was not a male ant, but a female one then…?” Laxmi’s eyes were twinkling as she too started contributing to this overt sex-play with me. “Then it could have jumped on you when you came close…now I am in a position to predict what any female would want to do with your body.”

“And what would you, I mean the female ant like to do to my body?” I asked encouragingly.

“If I were the female ant, I would have jumped on to your chest, when you held me so tightly from behind after taking off my blouse.” she replied, then added, “Now I will take off your shirt and see that she is not heading to nibble your nipples, for that is what I would certainly do if given a chance.”

With this she moved out of the chair, with a flurry of her dropped pallu showing me her beautiful slim feminine figure. Her behind was flared slightly at the hips. I had a full erection by this time, and she glanced directly at my trouser front while closing in with me.

After she had unbuttoned a couple of my shirt buttons, she inserted her palm inside and started caressing my chest, whilst she murmured, “The female ant must have got excited in the shrubbery here.” Now it was my turn to gasp with excitement as she lightly touched the auriola around my nipples. Her own lips twisted with anticipation as her fingers reached one nipple. I reached down and put my hand over her exposed waist and started caressing it.

At this she looked up at me; her light brown eyes were filled with a simple, pure, unashamed but innocent desire for sex with me; it may sound strange to call the desire for sex ‘innocent’ but that is the only word I can think of for what I saw in her eyes. As she confessed truthfully, she had a more than average sexual urge and she did not find anything amoral in having it satisfied from another woman’s husband in the office, or from ‘any one and any where’, as she put it, for that matter. On my part I too was just like her and whole-heartedly had sexual union with any sex partner who was willing.

“I don’t want to let the ant, if it is a male, enter your sari, while you are busy checking my chest.” I explained.

Distracted, she let go of my nipple and completed unbuttoning my shirt.

“Do you think it will enter my sari?” she asked, when the last button was off.

“You don’t know how very attractive your sexy waist is for a male.” I countered as my hand went further ahead into the folds of her sari. She responded by thursting both her hands on my chest and gripping each of my nipple between the forefinger and thumb of each of her hand. As she did this she raised her face and looked up at me longingly. The next moment we were kissing like mad. This time she opened her mouth and my tongue went into it tasting the salty taste of her mouth. Our tongues met hungrily, twisting and coiling against each other like two snakes making love.

I moved my hands holding her just above the buns and held her tightly pressing her crotch against mine. She too moved closer and pressed her crotch and moved it against my erection. I responded by dipping my hands under her sari at the back and top of her panties and felt the rising slope of her buns.

She disentangled quickly at that.

“Could it have reached there?” she asked with mock fear.

“I must remove your sari to know that.” I answered.

“Then what are you waiting for?” she asked.

“Well, if you were my wife, I would have had you fully naked by now. But is it not better to take permission, before undressing another man’s wife?” I said.

“Not when your intention is to catch an ant offending her modesty and on such an occasion you can make her totally naked.” she replied, smiling in that innocent way of hers.

With this I brought my hand to the front of her waist and pulled out the end of sari that was tucked under her petticoat. She twisted around so that I could unwind her sari from her torso. Soon it was lying in a heap on my table.

I ran my hands all around her and checked for the ‘ant’. Lastly, I cupped her buns in my palms and started caressing them.

“What if the female has entered your trousers…?” she asked. And without my permission, put her hand on my trouser belt.

“Hey, you are going ahead of me. That is not fair.” I said.

“How do you mean ahead?” she asked.

“See my chest is already bare, if you remove my trousers, I shall have only my shorts on me. Whereas you still have bra on and a petticoat above your panties.”

“Okay, then don’t waste time. Otherwise the ant will accomplish what it wants before you even reach there.” she said smiling naughtily.

I started reaching for the cords of her petticoat, but she held my hand and said, “First make me like you… bare-chested and check it all.”

“Fair enough.” I said and turning her around reached for the clasp at the back of her bra. But at the last minute I changed my mind and hugging her from behind placed my hands on the cords of her peticoat again and said,

“Laxmi, a sexy woman usually matches her bra with the panty, should they not be viewed together? Let me open your peticoat first.” I had started feeling her thighs with my hands as I said this. I could feel the smooth skin all over the front and back of her thighs through the thin silk fabric of her peticoat. But I was unable to trace the edge of her panty through the fabric! Was she not wearing a panty? Hurriedly I felt all over again, but no panty inside.

“Now I realize you are the expert in undressing females, only a man with lots of experience with women will know how we dress underneath” she surrendered, “do as you think fit; but catch the insect before it finds my p…”

“Actually, I think I shall change my mind and go for the bra clasp first…” I started saying, but she interrupted with a short laugh and said,

“What you are thinking is wrong, do open my petticoat first, you will get a surprise.”

Now I did not want to see her lower half naked before taking off her bra. I enjoy foreplay and wanted to arouse her before making her nude for a full-fledged session. But since she had guessed my thoughts and still wanted me to go ahead, I decided to do it her way. After all she was as much, if not more, experienced in these matters as I was.

Part 2

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March 24, 2010

Erotic Hot Stories – Learning from a Teacher

Filed under: Erotic Hot Stories — erotichotstories @ 10:08 am
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The dark holds him close, like a lover maybe, he thought with a grin. The dark is his friend, his protection. It is a summer night. There is no moon. The stars twinkle above him as he waits in his hiding place.

His name is Jimmy. He is an eighteen year old senior at Hay Long High. He is hidden, waiting as he has before, waiting for Mrs. Johnson to appear.

Jimmy is an athletic kid. A little over six feet tall with a strong body from playing basketball at school and on any playground where he could find a game. His brown hair is cut close, his brown eyes reflective of intelligence and a sense of humor. Tonight he’s wearing jeans, some old basketball shoes, no socks, and his favorite t-shirt. The t-shirt is black with a great abstract design on the front. J.C.Q., it says, for John Coltrane Quartet, his father told him. His father had picked it up on a trip into the City, a shop in Soho. Jimmy liked the t-shirt but knew little about J.C.Q. He thought they were a band similar to the Dave Matthews Band.

Jimmy is patient while he waits. The binoculars hanging around his neck are ready, willing partners in a special experience.

Mrs. Johnson usually comes down to her family room around 9:00 p.m. She is always alone. He had found her to be a pretty predictable person.

Jimmy knows a lot about Mrs. Johnson. She teaches English at his high school. She is divorced. She lives alone. Her only child, her son, Alex, is away being a freshman at Ohio State. Jimmy and Alex had played varsity basketball together last year. They had been good friends. I suppose we still are, thought Jimmy. Jimmy guessed Mrs. Johnson to be a little less than forty years old. Close, maybe. She has brown hair cut short, and brown eyes much like his own. She works out. Jimmy has watched her working out at the local YMCA. She usually runs on a treadmill for twenty or thirty minutes then goes through the Nautilus machines hard. In fact, it was at the YMCA where Jimmy first started taking an interest in Mrs. Johnson. He had been in and out of the Johnson home for years as he and Alex grew up moving from playground to playground for pick-up basketball games.

Mrs. Johnson had always been nice when she’d seen him but Jimmy really hadn’t taken much notice of her. But in the gym it had been different. Mrs. Johnson worked out hard, pushing herself. Jimmy liked that. Jimmy also liked the look of her frame. Her legs are strong, firm, shaped, her ass tight and just right, a high jumper’s ass, her middle tapered, flat, her shoulders perfect in a strong yet feminine way, her breasts not too large but having a fullness that he could really get into. And her pubic hair is dark brown and untrimmed. Jimmy hadn’t seen her pubic hair at the gym, but he knew about it. He had seen it many times when she came down to the family room alone in her white cloth robe.

Jimmy had come to recognize that Mrs. Johnson plays on the internet.

Most nights after 9:00 p.m. or so she comes downstairs to the family room wearing only her white robe. She sits in front of the computer reading then typing, reading then typing, reading then typing. Sometimes, most times lately, she eventually opens the robe and plays with herself. And Jimmy watches through his father’s expensive binoculars.

But tonight Jimmy hoped things might be a bit different. Tonight it was actually nearly 9:15 when she came down the stairs and into the family room. As always she is wearing the white robe. There are monogrammed initials on the sleeve, maybe from a hotel or something, but Jimmy can’t quite read what they are. She is carrying a mug of something to drink, tea or coffee, perhaps. As she walks by the computer on the desk, she turned it on, continuing to walk past it to the table with the lit lamp.

She dims the light and turns. In her turn, Jimmy catches a glimmer of her leg moving through the front of the robe. Her tanned smooth leg makes him remember her working out. Jimmy has actually stood behind Mrs. Johnson in the gym while she did squats with weights. He watched her ass move back and down, dipping low before powering the bar up. Jimmy watched in the gym and he remembered seeing that same ass here in her family room. That same nice ass, naked, straining, moving seductively while her fingers worked between her legs.

Tonight Mrs. Johnson clicked through various places on her computer. Jimmy could see the screen shift and pause to change. He is thankful for the lamp by the couch. Without it the dim blue light from the computer would only give him shapes and shadows to see. The lamp cast an amber light on Mrs. Johnson where she sat.

Jimmy guessed that she usually ended up in some sort of chat room on the internet. He had seen a few of those but not spent enough time to really discover how to use them. Tonight she seemed to find what she wanted pretty quickly. Maybe it’s just that she got a late start, he thought.

Mrs. Johnson sipped from her mug and appeared to be reading. She sat the mug down and began to type. Jimmy watched her fingers move gracefully over the keyboard. He looked at the shape of her neck rising out of the pillow of the robe’s collar. She wore no earrings, no jewelry that he could see. She must have just taken a bath, he was thinking.

It’s starting, he said to himself. He watched her hand now free of the mug move into the top of the robe. She is caressing her breasts, he could see. Her hand moves back and forth giving each breast equal time, equal arousal, equal touching.

Mrs. Johnson moved away from the computer, surprising Jimmy. This is new. She sits on the couch and reaches for the phone. She dials, waits, and begins to talk. He sees her smiling, appearing to be whispering in spite of no one else being in the house. Then he sees her hand move into the front of the robe at her waist. Her hand moves downward. And then he knows she is touching her pussy. She has to be, he thinks.

Her left leg moves up, her foot to the coffee table, and he can see her hand pressing into her. Her fingers are flat, moving slowly over her clit. Her untrimmed full pubic hair bunches around her fingers.

She is still talking on the phone. Her head is back against the couch, her eyes closed. Jimmy sees her middle finger push inside her to gather moisture before it returns to her clit. Her hand moves up from her pussy and pushes back the robe from her breasts before slowly circling each nipple with her wet finger. Then it’s back to her pussy, rubbing more urgently, faster, harder.

Jimmy’s nerves were challenging him. If you ever, he told himself, if you ever. No one had to tell him, no one had to be there to coach him or push him. He knew.

Jimmy rose from his hiding place and began to walk toward the front door of Mrs. Johnson’s house.

Jimmy finishes knocking a second series of taps and begins to wonder if she will come to the door. His hand rises to knock one last time when a light comes on in the vestibule. Mrs. Johnson, holding her white robe closed at her breast, peeps through the glass window beside the front door.

“Jimmy?” he hears her say.

“Yes, Mrs. Johnson,” he calls back trying to smile.

The dead bolt lock clicks and she pulls the door open with a quizzical look on her face.

“Jimmy,” she says, “What is it?”

“May I come in, Mrs. Johnson?” Jimmy asks

“It’s late, Jimmy,” she answers, “and I just got out of the bath.”

“I won’t take but just a minute,” he smiles.

She steps back offering him passage inside. He steps through the door with a sense of achievement. He smells the faint smell of soap, shampoo, and sex. Or maybe, he thinks to himself, the sex smell is a vanilla candle or something. Jimmy hadn’t smelled the smell of a woman’s sex enough to really recognize it with certainty.

Mrs. Johnson stands with her robe pulled tightly together obviously trying to figure why Jimmy would be on her doorstep at such a late hour.

“I talked with Alex by phone today,” he began. “He sounds like he’s having fun at State. Anyway, he mentioned some music, a few CDs, he’d let me borrow. You mind if I go up to his room and get them, Mrs. Johnson?”

“You came here to get some CDs?” she almost smiles.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responds with his best bullshit look.

“Okay, come on.” And with that she starts up the stairs, that nice ass working in naked bliss under the well-washed white robe.

Jimmy followed but not too closely. He wanted to be able to see that ass moving.

In the upstairs hall, Mrs. Johnson stops at Alex’s old bedroom door. She steps back wordlessly and watches as Jimmy steps inside. The room was already lit. Alex’s old brass double bed stood between the door and the bookshelves under the window. Guessing, Jimmy moves to the bookshelves and begin to search through the CDs. While he looks he tries to ad lib his next move. Just leave, he wondered? Try to talk with her maybe?

“Jimmy?” Mrs. Johnson says from the doorway.

He turns to see her staring at him.

“Why do you have those binoculars around your neck?” she asks quietly.

“Oh, these,” he smiles. Oh, shit, he thinks. “They’re for, ah, comets, shooting stars. Supposed to be a lot of them tonight.”

“Do you watch them from your knees?” she asks evenly.

“Ma’am?”

“From your knees, Jimmy,” she continues. “The knees of your jeans are muddy. You’ve been kneeling somewhere. The mud is wet so it wasn’t long ago.”

Jimmy looked down at his pants wondering if all mothers went to some secret agent school of interrogation and analysis.

“Jimmy,” Mrs. Johnson says firmly but still quietly. “Have you been looking in my windows at me?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Jimmy?” she presses.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He knew nothing else to say.

Jimmy is frozen kneeling beside the bookcase in Alex’s room. Mrs. Johnson has fixed him with her schoolteacher stare. What seems like an eternity to Jimmy is unfolding. She must be thinking about the police, my parents, the CIA, he tells himself.

“Jimmy,” she began, “I know your reputation around school. Kids say they know nothing about you. Even the girls you date say you don’t really tell them anything. I’ve heard all that.”

He only nods. Privacy is important, he thought.

“So,” she continues, “my hunch is that you’ve told no one about watching me. Have you?”

“No, Ma’am,” he admits.

Mrs. Johnson leans back against the door and sighs.

“Did you like what you saw, Jimmy?” she almost whispers.

Jimmy only nods his head, yes. He is afraid to speak.

“If I were to let you see more, do more, could I count on you to keep it to yourself, not tell anyone?” she asks.

Yes, again he nods.

“I’ll show you, Jimmy,” she whispers, “but you can’t touch unless I ask you to. Understood?”

Again, a nod, yes.

“But I don’t know you well enough to trust you not to touch me,” she says hurriedly, “so one condition.”

His eyebrows ask the question.

“You have to stretch out on the bed,” she says, “and let me tie you down to make sure you won’t touch without permission. Then I’ll show you more, maybe do more, than you could ever have seen through my window. Agreed?”

It was a no brainer thought Jimmy as he moved to lie down on Alex’s brass bed. Mrs. Johnson turned and left the doorway. She was back before he could make sure he wasn’t getting the bedcovers dirty. She had four men’s neckties.

She stands at the foot of the bed, the robe fitting her more loosely now, showing the cleavage he had seen in the gym. She smiles at him. “Ready?” she asks.

“Yes,” is his weak reply.

Mrs. Johnson begins tying his ankles with the men’s neckties, securing each one to the brass footboard. She moves up to lean over him, beginning to secure his wrists the same way. He could smell her well now. The smell of soap and gentle perfume. She finishes and stands surveying him, convincing herself that he is secure.

He looks up trying to anticipate the next move. Would she drop the robe for him? But she walks back out the bedroom door and is gone without a word.

When she comes back, she has a few things with her. He sees a pair of scissors and a Polaroid camera. And he knows that he may have made a error in judgment.

Mrs. Johnson looks down at Jimmy and smiles. “It’s time for some fun, Jimmy,” she almost coos. “And by the way, Alex hasn’t been at school for about a month now. He’s in Europe.”

Mrs. Johnson drops her robe to the floor and picks up the scissors.

Mrs. Johnson stands naked at the end of the bed. She has the scissors in her hand. She begins to wordlessly cut the shoelaces from Jimmy’s shoes. Jimmy looks at her without thought to his situation. Her breasts are nicer than he had thought looking through the window. Her shoulders are indeed strong, her middle slightly wash-boarded with muscle. She is beautiful, he tells himself.

She has the laces out of both his shoes. The shoes are pulled off his sockless feet and thrown toward the wall.

“My name is Judy,” she says. “And I don’t want you to speak. Agreed?”

Jimmy nods, yes.

Judy begins to cut a path up the side of his jeans pant leg. Jimmy can feel the underside working parts of the scissors. Judy works fast but he still feels safe. His jeans are cut off and gone collected in a pile in the floor. She moves up to his t-shirt and begins the same cut-away procedure. He gives no thought to his favorite t-shirt dying this defamed death. He could only watch this beautiful naked woman as she works.

His cock has already risen to the moment when Judy arrives at his briefs. She lays her hand on him testing his hardness before snipping away his underwear with the scissors. Her hand takes his cock testing it again, stroking it slowly before she steps away from the bed and picks up the camera.

She begins snapping away, taking pictures as she walked around the room to get different angles and distances. “These pictures are going in a safety deposit box at the bank,” she says. “If you ever, if you EVER tell anyone anything about tonight, these pictures come out in the open. You had better understand me.” Jimmy nods, yes, with real conviction. She puts the camera down and leaves the room to put the pictures in a safe place.

She comes back quietly. Jimmy’s cock is still standing straight in the air, throbbing, weaving around as if to find a lover or Jimmy’s hand. Judy walks to the side of the bed and slowly begins to crawl up and over Jimmy.

“You are going to please me,” she murmurs, “and you are going to do it well.”

Jimmy watches her pussy, excited to be seeing it so close. Her hips rise above his chest. She rests her weight on one knee and steps across him to plant a foot on the bed. She takes his head in her hand, holding him by his hair, and pushes her pussy hard into his face. Instinctively Jimmy sticks out his tongue and tries to lick but Judy is using him to fuck herself, not relying on him to know how or accomplish anything. She is already very wet. Her wetness passes to Jimmy’s face wetting him. His nose brushes against her clit and makes her jump but she keeps humping him, fucking his face for all she is worth. He has no technical clue but he senses that she is cumming. Her body begins to shiver and tense until finally she grabs his head with both hands pulling him hard against her spasming lips. He pushes his tongue out as far as he can in hopes of pleasing her and catching any of her essence. She slowly pushes his head back to the bed and settles down on him, resting. He can barely breathe but who would complain?

Judy seems to rouse out of a sleep beginning to move. She moves up toward the head of the bed a little higher on his face. He thinks for a moment she is getting off him but then he hears her say, “Lick my asshole now. Do it.” And he does, tasting the wetness from her pussy spread over her puckered ass. He pushes his tongue hard toward her, the tip getting just inside her ring.

Without a word, Judy eases off him. “Good boy,” she whispers.

She turns and straddles his face. He thinks she intends to take his cock in her mouth but he feels nothing happening down there.

“Look at my pussy,” she says to him. “Is this the pussy you’ve been wanting to see? Look at it. She is almost shouting now.

He can feel her hot breath on his cock, his balls, his legs. She isn’t touching him only blowing on him first with heated breath then with cooling air. Her pussy is right in his face just out of reach. Its lips are swollen and thick. Her hair matted with her cum and his spit. Her asshole shining from the same mixture.

Jimmy could feel his cock lurching, jerking. He had no control over it. Judy quickly steps over him taking away her pussy. She gracefully settles between his spread legs looking up to him. She alternates watching his eyes and his jumping untouched cock. With a grin she dips her head low and runs her tongue over his balls. That is all it takes. His cock begins to shoot cum up in an arch across his belly, the first splat landing on his chest, others, many others, following to build dripping puddles on his stomach.

Judy moves up the bed slowly running her fingers through his cum. She holds her fingers to his lips and begins to spread the hot salty liquid over his face and tongue.

“You are a good boy,” she smiles. “But tomorrow is a school day. We both need some sleep. Session over.”

He starts to say something to object but her glare stops him. He can only hope there will be other lessons.

THE END

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