hand over his to show him I liked it. He pressed harder. Then I licked my finger, ran it down the crack of my cleavage, stroked the soft swell, then pushed the bra down to expose my breast and to show him how my finger, wet from my mouth, was teasing my nipple.
He followed the movement, so now his finger was inside my bra, too. He circled that nipple, then hooked his thumb over the bra to push it down. Now they were both out, proud, tingling in the cold air. Nipples stiff as nuts to show him my excitement.
I came to my senses and walked into the house, pulling my blouse closed.
‘I think maybe I do need that lie-down,’ he croaked behind me.
Desire stirred in my belly. Think quickly, but carefully.
‘More peaceful up in my room,’ I murmured, rearranging some lilies in a vase. ‘I mean, in case the others come crashing back and disturb you.’
I started to walk up the crooked little staircase that leads only to my own private quarters.
‘All women should be motherly, and sexy, like you.’
I started to blush like a schoolgirl and laughed, much too loudly. I nonchalantly opened the door to my private quarters.
‘I could put you across my knee for saying things like that, boyo.’
‘I’d much rather take you across mine.’
Wow. These boy-men have a way of pulling the rug out from under you. One minute helpless babies, the next coming on like a practised lothario. The way he said it, his voice so low and rough and rude, was all the more thrilling for being so unexpected.
I responded in the best way I know, which was to beckon him into my bedroom under the eaves.
My B and B is immaculate, but from the mess you’d think a slut lived in the attic. And you’d be right.
By now I was creaming for him. My breasts were aching to be sucked, nipples hardening just thinking about it. I didn’t know if he was following me, but still I checked my reflection. I looked like a gypsy. My hair had fallen in messy ringlets round my flushed face.
I wriggled out of my skirt, let it drop to the floor, and there he was, behind me in the mirror. My hunk walking right into my bedroom and flinging himself down on the sofa.
‘You said I could lie down?’
I nodded, swaying towards him. A button popped comically off my blouse as if unable to contain itself, or my cleavage. He was right there, his hands on my buttocks, pulling me against him. His nose pushed into the soft give of my pussy lips, barely concealed under my silky knickers, and I parted my legs a little. He closed his eyes and sniffed at my pussy, then ripped the tiny knickers off with his teeth. Three-quarters man, one quarter boy. Then I felt the tip of his wet tongue. Like he was striking a match on my clit.
I froze, but he mistook my silence and hesitated. I gently touched the top of his head, and that was it. He grabbed me round the waist and tumbled me on top of him. I landed, skin on skin, my blouse dropping off my shoulders like falling petals, and now I could feel all the warmth of his gorgeous young body spread out under me but mostly the battering of his heart and the urgent hardening of his cock inside his jeans.
I tried to land on my hands and catch my own weight, rather than knock my elbows into his face and ruin the moment, but it was my breasts that fell forwards, bouncing against his face. I languished for a moment, then raised myself up to look at him.
He was mine. All mine. My prize on a cold, lazy day. A feast of young manhood laid out on my sofa, comfortable as you like, not going anywhere, any doubts knocked out of the ring by the force of his lust. I was rubbing myself against him without knowing it, hungry to get him inside me. Everything about him was irresistible, his eyes, his full lips, the little bubbles of saliva at the corners like a kid impatient to tell you something, the pulse pummelling in his tanned neck.
And that big young cock barging up in his shorts. Any minute now, at a time I was going to choose, I was going to have a damn good look at it. I was going to touch it, hold it. I wouldn’t be able to help myself sliding on to it –
It makes me horny even now, can you tell? Remembering the sight of him, the smell, the heat burning off him that first time. I wasn’t his first, but I was going to make sure he’d never forget me.
‘Oh, my God, those tits, good enough to eat. Oh, God, I want to fuck you.’
I cupped my breasts, massaged them together, licking my lips like a porn star. ‘You seen breasts like mine before? Full, generous, begging to be touched?’
He shook his head, watching me fondle myself.
‘Different, aren’t they?’ I whispered. I was chancing it, but I knew he was hooked. His little girlie friends would have cute white baps. Not even a handful each.
‘Dark, aren’t they?’ I said softly, leaning nearer, dangling them over him, juicy like fruit. My nipples had turned the colour of raspberries. He couldn’t take his eyes off them. They were inches from his mouth and lips and tongue and teeth. I wanted him to suck me. The tension was so electric you could hear it.
I arched my back to thrust my breasts towards him. His Adam’s apple jumped again. His hands came up from my hips, where they’d tried to steady me in falling, and slid up my ribcage until they reached the outward curve of my breasts. I breathed in tiny gasps as his hands slid closer. The room was so quiet. His body was straining up under me. My nipples were stiff and burning, each one now the size of the tip of his little finger.
‘Let me,’ he groaned. I rubbed one across his mouth. I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach. His face flooded with red heat. Did he flush like that with his little floozies? Did he get rushes of excitement when they gave him a flash? Or a full-on erection like the one banging out of his jeans right now?
I let my nipples hover just above his mouth, torturing us both. I ran my hand over the front of his jeans, felt the rigid outline. I reached inside to cup his warm balls.
Outside it was getting dark. The kettle needed boiling. The guests would be back soon from the beach.
I picked up one of his hands, placed it on one swollen breast. My nipple spiked up, poking against his palm. I went limp as his fingers closed round. I spread my knees to lower myself, my pussy opening, my breasts jumping into his face with each heartbeat.
I had a boy here with the body of a god, just waiting for me to show him. So much for being bored in the countryside.
My stomach tightened as he played with both breasts, moulded them, squeezed until I could bear it no longer. I lay on him, smothering him, so that he had no choice but to nuzzle in between, press each breast against each of his hot cheeks. I took one breast, so heavy with wanting, and rubbed the taut nipple against his mouth again and again. Just the sight of me holding it, offering it to him, made me want to come. I jammed myself against his legs, but my pussy was twitching with frustration.
His tongue flicked out and I angled the tit right into his mouth. His lips nibbled up, tongue lapping round, then, aah, at last, he drew the burning bud in, pulling hard, and began to suck. Sparks pricked at me. I looked down at his tousled hair, at the salt water dried in granules and flecked white across his cheekbones, and I closed my eyes as the sensation nearly finished me off.
He brought the
