Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Anal Sex, Slow, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A big-bottomed MILF

Rich had been crushing on Rosalyn for months, and he'd finally worked up the nerve to ask her ... if she wanted to study with him. She shrugged her shoulders and agreed to it, but she didn't seem particularly excited, so he wasn't sure if it was a turn of fortune when she offered to host their study session at her house. Rosalyn wasn't particularly catty, or mean, or cliquish, but she also wasn't as approachable as Rich would have wanted her to be. She had a "leave me alone" expression on most days, even when she was hanging out with friends, and her shredded jeans and fingerless gloves were as trademarked as they were indicative of someone rough around the edges. He was pretty sure she'd dyed her blonde hair black, but he didn't hold it against her, as he couldn't imagine her looking any other way. As he got to know her, he realized that she wasn't as violently loner as he'd first expected, but she was hardly warm. He wasn't sure if she was interested in him at all, and suspected that she wasn't, but his heart still started to race when she leaned in close to him and whispered to him as they approached her house.

"My mother's home. Just try to ignore her, or she won't leave us alone."

"Is she ... overprotective?" he said, unsure.

"No, not really. She just has a tendency to exaggerate wildly whenever I have a friend over, like it's a major event. I have to cut her down early or she'll smother us, so try to act douchey if you can."

He'd heard it, even if he didn't think she did. Friend. He felt a twang of disappointment, but he wasn't about to give up all hope.

He followed a step behind her as she approached her front door, wrangled around in the chaotic contents of her purse for her keys, and shoved one in the keyhole. She had to jiggle it a bit to get it loose, but she seemed to know the trick. She pushed the door open with her shoulder, sighing with the effort, and preemptively rolling her eyes as she called out "I'm home!"

He followed her into the front room, where she kicked off her flats, and slipped into a pair of incongruous bunny slippers, and offered him a pair of sensible toe-covering men's slippers, which he took with some suspicion.

"They were my dad's. Never threw them out, I guess."

He put them on without saying anything, and she rolled her eyes again and yelled "Ma, are you home or not?" as she stomped her way into what he assumed was the kitchen. He followed her in, and a girl with golden blonde hair down to her ... legs, was washing a dish. He tried not to let Rosalyn catch him looking at the girl's figure, which was considerably fuller than her own, if a bit on the heavy side. It slowly dawned on him that Rosalyn never mentioned having a sister.

"Rosie, you don't like it when I call back at you. You say my voice is too sugary sweet," she said, inflecting 'sweet' upwards in a sing-song manner. She turned around, spotting Rich for the first time, and he noticed that she wasn't a girl at all, but a full-grown woman. He tried to resist letting his mouth hang open when he noticed that she looked a lot like Rosalyn, but maybe ten years older, with big green eyes that she didn't have, and what he still assumed was her natural blonde hair. His eyes wandered down to her top, a modest blouse that she'd strangely taken to smuggling watermelons in. They bobbed up and down as she breathed, but it seemed more like she was trying to cover them up than show them off. He looked up to her face, suddenly aware that there were two women in the room that were probably going to be watching him for such displays of eye-wandering, but what he saw was the brightest, most innocent smile in the world, friendly and caring, trusting and hoping. He found he had to look away, ever so slightly, while smiling dorkishly, in the hopes that she wouldn't notice the utterly devastating effect her smile had on him. If she had noticed his perving out, she certainly didn't let it show. She seemed genuinely happy to see him, as if they were old friends.

"And I don't like it when you call me Rosie, either. It's Rose or Rosalyn."

The woman shook her head and laughed a small laugh. "I know, honey; I named you," she said, and Rich had to bite his lip to stop himself from boggling. It was impossible. "But everybody calls you Rose. You'll always be Rosie to me."

"Mom, can you not embarrass me in front of my friend?" she said, spitting out the "b" in "embarrass" like a curse. Rich didn't know what threw him more: that she'd called him a friend, again, or that she called her older sister "mom".

"I'm sorry ... I don't mean to. Hello, what's your name?" she said, looking back to Rich again, who averted his eyes to the floor rather than face her smile again.

He tried to bear in mind Rosalyn's advice to "act douchey," but he found he couldn't bring himself to it. Instead, he smiled goofily, endured a second of eye-contact, and said "I'm Rich," offering his hand for a handshake.

"That's good news," she said, wiping her hand with a towel and then taking his hand. He felt her hand, warm and soft, and saw her playful expression, and he almost didn't want to let go. When she got closer, he realized that she smelled of lilacs, and it was the first time he ever really noticed a woman's smell. It wasn't perfume, so it must have been either the real thing or a soap or something like it, but he didn't care. He now loved the smell of lilacs. For a fleeting moment of insanity he considered caressing her wrist with his thumb, and playing it off as a satire of an overconfident ladies man, but then he nervously laughed instead. "I'm Lily, Rosie's mom."

He withdrew his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. White."

"Call me Lily," she said, still beaming at him. She turned to Rosalyn. "You make sure he doesn't go around calling me 'your mom' now, okay?"

"Okay, mom. We're going to be studying in my room. Without mom."

"Do you guys want me to make you something?" she said, looking between the two of them, before settling on Rich. "What do you like to eat?" she said, sweetly.

He fought the urge to say what he wanted to say. "Anything's fine. You don't have to, though."

"If I don't cook anything, Rosie won't eat anything," she said, and he found himself looking at Rosalyn, who was considerably leaner than her plump mom.

"I'm fine, mom. Just leave us alone, okay?"

Lily looked hurt for a second, but then her smile, somewhat sullen, returned. "I'll try to keep busy. If you guys need anything, just ask me."

Rosalyn was about to cut back, so Rich hastily replied "thanks, Lily." Her somewhat sad stare quickly flicked to him, appreciatively. Rosalyn slinked away without another word, and Rich followed her, trying not to look back at her mother one last time.

When they'd settled into her room, which was cleaner than he expected, she dropped a math tome between them. "She's always like that."

"She seems nice," he said, trying to keep her smile out of his mind's eye.

"She is, I guess. It just hasn't been the same since my dad ... she cares too much, I think."

He didn't know what to say to that. Instead, he decided to say the first dumb thing that popped into his head, with exemplary results. "Your mom's really pretty."

Rosalyn stared daggers at him, and his mind reeled trying to think of a way to backpedal out of it, but then she just laughed. "Don't you mean 'Lily' is really pretty? You don't have to call her that if you don't want to. I wouldn't," she said, flipping through the pages of the text. "She had me pretty young. And she's always looked young. Too bad I take after my dad, huh?"

Rich nodded politely. If her dad had any influence on her appearance, it was her eyes, and that was it. But he wasn't about to refute her.

"I used to have blonde hair, like her. Last year, even. I was a cheerleader, if you can believe it." He couldn't. "Sort of ... reinvented myself. And I think she wants me to go back," she stopped flipping pages, and looked up at him. "Do you think I should change back?"

He knew this was his chance. He knew there was a suave answer to her question, that would show that he really understood her. But he didn't. And he realized that, suddenly, just in time to give the honest, horribly moment-shattering answer, "I don't know."

She looked like she was about to cry. "I ... I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have dumped this on you. You just wanted to study and now I've got you caught up in my confused bullshit."

He wanted to console her, but he wasn't sure if she wanted to be touched. "It's okay. You're really not that bad."

She wiped her eyes. "Thanks. I feel kinda dumb now. I'm freaking out about nothing. Could we ... take a rain check on this?"

Rich nodded rapidly. "Sure. Uh, when do you want to try again?"

"Tomorrow. Uhm, I'm meeting up with my band after school, but you can come chill here until I get back; I know you live a ways off. 'Lily' will let you in," she said, tongue in cheek.

He stood, and she led him to the front door. He looked around for Lily, but he didn't see her. He went home, fell to sleep, and thought, upon arrival at school the following day, that he'd never woken up.

Rosalyn wasn't exactly dressed like the student council president, but she wasn't in her usual punkish attire, either. He didn't really cross paths with her much throughout the day, but from a distance he spotted her, wearing a halter top and a skirt, and most shockingly, her hair was bleach blonde. She looked like a completely different person, and his heart beat twice in one when he realized who she looked like.

She reaffirmed their engagement as class ended, climbing into a beat-up minivan that was undoubtedly her bassist's parent's car, and he made his way to her house on his own memory, alone. He had complimented her hair, and she had, smiling, thanked him, and he felt pretty good about that, but there was an extra bounce in his step all the way to her front porch, at which point he became suddenly timid. He rang the bell, and tried to find a good place for his hands, only to discover that at moment's such as the one he was in, there are no good places to put your hands. He settled for his thumbs in his pockets, his shoulders shrugged, his back straight.

She opened the door and he could smell her immediately. She was sweating lightly, and he could smell that too, but the scent of lilacs was the same as the day before, and just as sweet. She was wearing a running shirt and possibly the most powerful sports bra known to man, he assumed, while keeping his gaze at eye level. Sweat pants and running shoes confirmed his theory, even before she said anything.

"Hi, Rich! Sorry if I'm a little exhausted; I just got back from a run. Come in!"

He stammered out a "Hi, Mrs. White" only to be corrected to "Lily" again, which he then followed with "Hi ... Lily." He followed her inside, letting his gaze droop well below eye level, only to have it snap back up when she turned to him over her shoulder.

"I must look terrible. I just got in when you rang the bell. Do I smell?"

'Like sweet flowers' would have been his response if she were fifteen years younger, but instead he just said "I don't mind."

"That's kind of you. To tell the truth, I'm sort of embarrassed to let anybody see me run. I stick to the old train tracks so nobody spots me. Guess I don't have to tell you now that you've seen the new Rosie, or the old Rosie, I guess, that I used to look just like her," she said, taking a seat on the sofa in the living room, gesturing for him to sit down opposite her.

"You still do," came his response, automatically, and he was horrified to hear his voice was less casual flattery and more emphatic declaration.

"Thank you! That's so sweet. But we both know that any mirror that made us look the same would be in a funhouse. I've gotten a little fat ... you can be honest."

"You look good," he found himself saying, again a little too strongly.

"And you've earned yourself some free tips," she said grinning like a cat.

"Tips?"

"For wooing my baby. You're interested in her, right?" she said, twirling her hair in her finger, watching him for his reaction.

"Um ... I mean, I was, but..."

"Don't give up!" she said, suddenly getting to her feet. He watched her breasts take the long way up, and then bounce in place. She sounded a little full of energy, and a little desperate. "I know she can be a little cold, but she's a really nice girl."

"I think ... I think she just wanted a friend. To talk to. I'm okay with that..."

"Are you?" said Lily, smiling at him in admiration, melting his resistance. "You really are a gentle boy. But she hasn't told you no yet, right?"

"Well, no, but..."

"When a girl doesn't know if she's in love, you've got to let her know how you feel! And with me on your side, you can't lose," she said, full of youthful energy, offering her hand to him. "Deal?"

Without thinking, he took her hand, and said "deal," shaking his head and laughing at her good-natured spirit.

She walked over to the pantry and took out a towel. "Alright. She won't be home for at least another few hours if she's practicing. I'm gonna take a quick shower, and then we can put our heads together."

At the mention of Lily showering, Rich suddenly wanted very much so to put something of theirs together, but it wasn't their heads. He watched her walking towards the bathroom, and knowing that no one would see him staring, he stared. Her running shirt had a racerback, and he watched her neck and her shoulders with some fascination. If Rosalyn would look like her some day, maybe he really shouldn't give up, he thought.

She disappeared into the bathroom and he heard her turn on the shower. She emerged a second later, and he felt stupid when he realized that he had been hoping that she'd already taken her shirt off when she did.

"We could roleplay," she said, eyes bright.

"What?" he said in a scared monotone, as a very different kind of roleplay came to mind.

"I could pretend to be Rosie, and you pretend I'm Rosie, and maybe you'll be able to work up your courage that way."

"Oh. Uh ... okay, I could do that."

"Sorry to jump out at you like that. It's just Rosie hand-washed some of her old clothes, and I just saw them in there with all her old jewelry she stopped wearing. I forgot I didn't have any clothes in there, so I'm just going to run and grab some," she said, and went to go towards her room.

"Wait," said Rich, his mouth ahead of his mind, "why don't you wear her stuff?"

"Why would I ... oh. Oh! Hey, that's a good idea," she said, and he tried not to chuckle at just how blonde she appeared when she said it like that. "But ... there's a problem."

"What?"

She pointed to her hip, and he jumped at the invitation to look. "It'll never fit me."

"You think so?" he said, diplomatically, and he couldn't help but smirk when she blushed at him. Then, in a moment of either evil genius or pure dumb luck, he said, "I mean, Mrs. White, we don't have to do this if you don't..."

"What was that?" she said raising an eyebrow.

"I said you don't have to..."

"Lily," she said, walking over to him.

"Lily," he replied, dutifully.

"Say, 'Let's do this, Lily!'"

Images burned in his retina as he watched her smiling eyes and she watched him. "Uh ... let's do this, Lily."

"I'll make them fit," she said, disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. He could see the steam of the shower starting to seep out at the top of the door frame. In spite of himself, he waited a few seconds, and then he slowly approached the bathroom door. It was opposite Rosalyn's room, and so he readied the excuse that he was just looking inside her room; a lesser sin that he could readily confess to.

He listened at the door. He heard Lily's clothes hit the floor, and then her soft footfalls on the tile, and he knew that her body was bared. He heard the water stop hitting the ground for a moment, and knew she had stepped into the shower. He heard the splashes as water accumulated on her and fell, and he heard her pick up a bottle of what he assumed was lilac-scented soap or shampoo.

He saw in his mind how her hands caressed her own body, her neck, her breasts, and even ... he was woken from his trance by the sound of her humming, and he could hear that her voice was lower than she let on, a womanly tone with softness and honey to spare. She sang a song filled with a bygone happiness, and more than a little sultriness, and he started to seriously wonder what Mrs. White's bed slept like. Lilac, or lust?

His schoolboy fantasies came to an end with the shrill noise of a shower being turned off. He heard her step out of the shower, and took a few safe steps away from the bathroom door, for plausible deniability. He heard her say "oh, these are cute!" and heard jingling, and he heard fabric being unfolded, but then he heard her mutter "oh no."

Silence followed. Maybe after half a minute of her speaking under her breath, trying to puzzle something out, the door opened slightly, though Lily didn't emerge.

"Rich?" she called out, trepidation in her voice.

"Yeah? Lily?" he called back, from an even further distance than he'd been waiting.

"Um, so ... I was right ... it doesn't fit..."

"It's okay. What's the problem?"

"Well, there's two," she said, nervously chuckling, "I threw my clothes down the laundry chute, and the basement is locked. I'd have to look for where Rosie left the key."

"Is it really that bad?" he said, curious.

"Not ... that I can see ... but there's the other problem. There's no underwear in here."

The situation was quickly becoming too much for Rich to bear. "Do you ... need underwear?"

"In general or right now?" came the jovial, if anxious reply.

"Right now."

"Well," she said, and then took a deep breath, "this skirt doesn't ... cover as much as it does on Rosie. Which isn't much either. So, can you ... please do me a big favor?"

Rich nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "Sure. What do you need?"

She hesitated. "My room is the one on the right. The bottom drawer of the left cabinet."

He swallowed. He'd never been in a situation that demanded swallowing for before, but this one did. She closed the door sheepishly as he passed it, made a right, and entered into her bedchamber, as he came to imagine it. It was dark, but he didn't want to turn on the light and see a place he really wasn't supposed to be, so instead he scouted for the cabinets, found the one on the left, and opened the bottom drawer. He sort of knew what to expect, but the sight was still a lot to take in. You couldn't say Lily was an ostentatious woman: most of her underwear was plain and white, a simple cut, some with lace and some with words. All of them were large or even extra large, which didn't surprise him, but the actual size of them did. Without thinking, because he was beyond thinking at that point, he spotted something purple and picked it up to investigate it, only to realize what he was holding and nearly drop it. To his relief, it looked as if it had never been used, but he carefully placed it back where it was regardless, picked up a clean white pair of panties, closed the drawer, and evacuated the room with haste.

Without a word, Lily stretched out her hand from behind the door. He handed her the underwear, and she took it back into the bathroom with her. A few seconds later, she emerged, and Rich would never forget what he saw.

Her hair was wet, and her handkerchief was tied up in it, but she let it flow relatively free, all the way to her backside. She was right about the skirt, as even from the front Rich could see that anyone behind her wouldn't have to so much as crouch to get a clear view of her underwear, and if she hadn't been wearing any, her nudity. The "cute" jewelry she'd found she probably wasn't aware of the connotations of, as they were large, gold hoop earrings that Rich couldn't even see her daughter wearing with a straight face. Her appeals to modest notwithstanding, Lily clearly didn't pay much mind to her breasts, as the belly shirt that would have been tight on her daughter's modest bust didn't at all reach her belly, and in fact barely covered her breast, the underside of which was similarly visible to anyone capable of bending at the knees. Moreover, though she'd asked for underwear, she either hadn't thought to include or was too embarrassed to ask for a bra, as the proverbial cherry on the cake was that Lily's nipples were clearly outlined in the fabric. She looked at him with a certain pride that she managed to fit into all of it, though her blush was a little redder now than it had been before, and she held her hands in front of her timidly, afraid that any movement endangered her purity. While she may have had little insight into how large her breasts truly were, she knew enough that if she lifted her arms above her head, she was going to fall out of her shirt. Rich wondered if he asked her to get something on a high shelf ... no, that would be wrong.

"Hey Rich, you ready to study?"

She imitated Rosalyn's voice, which had the exaggerated inflections of a teenager, and Rich suppressed a snicker. She was already getting into character, in spite of the dangers of her chosen wardrobe.

"Of course. Been waiting for you for a long time now. Your room again?"

"Yeah. This way we don't have to deal with my mom" she said, rolling her eyes hyperbolically, and Rich laughed out loud, a genuine laugh that surprised even him. Lily smiled back, and the tension about her appearance dissolved.

"You wanted to study math, right?"

"I suck at math. My dad used to help me with it, but..." she trailed off. He couldn't tell if Lily was really good at acting, or if she'd suddenly forgot she was.

"I could help you with it. In fact, I want to help you with it," he said, and Lily sat down on the floor, where the math text from the previous day still conveniently lay.

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

He sat down next to her. "Because ... because I..." Lily's big green eyes were looking at him. He couldn't say it.

"Relax," she said, nudging him, "it's just me. Go on."

"Because I care about you," he said, and strangely felt tears coming to his eyes.

"You care about me?" she said, feigning surprise rather well.

He took her hands in his. "You ... you always seem like you've got a little sadness, and you don't have anyone to help you with it. You're so bright and cheerful otherwise, that I just want to make you happy."

"That's..." Lily said, and felt tears in her eyes, too. She leaned her face close to his.

"Uh..." he said, not sure what to do.

"You can't panic if she goes in for a kiss. Just relax and do what feels right, okay?"

"Okay," he said, willing every fiber of his being not do what felt right.

She leaned back. "Let's try again. Um ... so, are you saying ... you have feelings for me?"

"So many feelings," he said, smiling, and she grinned nervously back. She hadn't expected a somewhat smooth answer.

To catch him off guard, she leaned in close again, and said in a full, sultry voice, "really?"

In riposte, he took her hand in his, and put his hand on her neck, caressing her face. "Really."

To diffuse the situation, she said, "Rich, don't you think we're going too fast? I mean, I don't know what I should do ... I'm conflicted," she said, and then in her own voice, she whispered conspiratorially, "now you'd have to reassure her," her face still close to his, and he nodded.

"I know what I want," he said, his thumb touching her lip, and then he brushes the hair from her eyes.

"You do?" she said, looking down at his lips, and then up into his eyes.

He nodded again. "You, Lily."

She smiled, prettily. "Good," she said, approving, watching his finger trace along her cheek, "but you mean Rosalyn."

"No, I don't," he said, leaning in closer. Lily hesitated to pull away, and was a second too late: their lips touched, briefly, and she slowed her retreat, and he followed, and drew her face to his as he kissed her lips again, longer now, with even less of a pretense.

"Roleplay" she managed to stammer in between kisses, but even as she leaned back, she returned his kisses, her body shaking, her breath quick, so that it was less of a rescinding gesture and more of an invitation. He was inexperienced, and he knew it, but he pressed the attack, watching as the grown woman beneath him, with him, embracing him and staring lovingly at him became as full of anticipation, wonder, dread and lust as any young girl with a new love, and he knew then that she was just as vulnerable as he was, just as forbidden, and yet free. He smelled the lilacs from her shower as he followed her to the floor, kissing at her neck, then, as she prepared her quivering heart and her aching loins for something she had long denied either. Her legs curled around him and he noted that they were stronger than he expected, likely due to her efforts in running, but he knew that she didn't mean to trap him, only to reassure him that he was welcome in her arms and that she hoped that she was welcome in his. Their clothes were still confining them but they both knew that it was all in due time, as they explored each other's bodies as they were. She took his finger into her mouth, he gently teased her nipple through her shirt, not wanting to hurt her but wanting very much so to please her. She rubbed her hands over his body, and guided his hands over hers. They started to exchange words, then far past the point of deniability, and she asked him in simple terms if he liked her body. He answered with action, barely able to control himself as he ran his hands down her form, her breasts, her waist, and though he hesitated, she helped his hands under her, to her soft cheeks.

Having given her body to him, she reached down his front, and between them places a hand on the hard outline that's pressed against her leg. For a moment, Rich lost his confidence.

"Uh ... sorry..." he said, but when he looked at her face, that same smile she wore when he first saw her looked back at him. Without being told to, he adjusted himself so that his prominent manhood rested just under her skirt, and then pressed his body against hers. No longer in the realm of adolescent play, they entered the realm of the adult, and she felt the weight of his sex on hers, and he felt her heat, her moisture, and began to smell the scent of a woman beyond lilacs. She wanted to watch as he went wild with lust, but she was in little position to judge, as the feeling of his hard cock with just a thin, meaningless membrane of fabric between it and where it belonged, had made her realize firsthand what years of neglect will do to a woman, and she grew ever more acutely aware that if he did not find his courage or let his passions overtake him soon, she would climb on top of him, and use her leg muscles to get what she needed.

She didn't have to wait long, however, as suddenly she found herself on her belly, her soon-to-be-lover pressed against her back, biting at her neck, feeling her up and down, waist and hips and ass and back. She'd never done anything on the floor before, but she knew that she was about to. She thought for a moment about being mounted from behind like an animal and then it was the only thing she could think about. Rich, meanwhile, had satiated his tactile curiosities, and in almost retrograde motion was taking in the visual. He knew better than to concern himself with Lily's ass, and instead lifted her too-short skirt, and sees in full view what before he had only thought to glimpse, her underwear so soaked through that it was essentially invisible. She felt his stare and reveled in it, even though she was still somewhat embarrassed about being viewed from behind. Jolts of sensation made her claw at the floor when first his breath touched her, and then a finger prodded through the fabric, and then, without warning, he pressed his nearly-freed erection directly against her, and though he was off the mark, he pressed instead directly against her clitoris, and her moans were evidence that he had done something right. She held back, as she knew that she did on occasion ejaculate, and that was not something she wanted to explain to a curious virgin while he massaged her pearl with the head of his cock. Despite holding back, she felt something wave over her, too small to be an orgasm but large enough that her body remembered what an orgasm felt like and then, more than ever, wanted Rich inside of her.

"I'm ready," she said, her sweet voice now teeming with deep undertones, as she brought herself up onto her knees. She waggled her hips and looked back at him, and nearly squealed with glee as he moved her panties aside, exposing her to the open air. She dropped her head and steeled herself, and he fumbled to free himself from his own underwear, when she spotted it on the floor: her daughter's math textbook.

"We can't do it in my daughter's bedroom!" she said, suddenly, and before she could even begin to voice her suggestions, a man's voice said "in the bathroom, then," with a commanding authority he drew from somewhere unseen.

Without hesitation she stood upright, and the virgin boy watched with some amusement as a full-grown woman went from wagging her tail in doggy-style to, well, a full-grown woman standing proudly, as if the two were one and the same. Of course, part of the amusement was her underwear, which was now completely visible and invisible at the same time, and her breasts, still oddly covered, though her nipples were fully aroused.

She took his hand over her shoulder and led him into the bathroom, his erection pressed between her cheeks, his hands holding her breasts, as he smelled her hair and pulled on her nipples under her shirt, fondling her soft body with each step. She knew that if the two of them went into that bathroom together, neither was walking out a virgin, but she couldn't stop herself. She wanted to do the adult thing and simmer down and talk to him about whether or not he knew what it meant, but she didn't yet know what it meant, though she had her hopes, nor could she think very clearly with his engorged cock resting on her cunt and anus, threatening to simultaneously put an end to her dry spell and ensure that her panties could never be used again.

So when they did cross the threshold, and he closed the door behind them, and she had placed her hands on the wall, and spread her legs apart, she just waited. As far as she was concerned, her pussy was already full of semen, and reality was about to catch up with that. To make it perfectly clear that she wasn't just doing a pre-fun stretch, she reached down and spread herself with two fingers, so that even someone inexperienced could find their mark.

She looked back at him. "Rich, I'm yours," she said, and so long as they were in that bathroom, she meant it. She waited. She'd done enough. If he wasn't sure, at this point, she wasn't going to push him. She hoped and hoped, though, that he would push her.

Between them hung the unspoken vulgarity that the few feet they'd gone from the bedroom to the bathroom was totally perfunctory, and she would have allowed him entry then and there if he would have asked for it. There were precious few things now that would keep Rich outside of Lily, and none of them were going to. For the first time in years, the walls of Lily's house were about to shake, and she couldn't wait.

He nearly took her up on her offer, and Lily in fact though he had, as he put his feet behind hers, put one hand on the wall, and presumably had the other steadying his rod so that he could guide it up into Lily's waiting vagina, but though she spread her legs a bit more and braced herself so that the moan he forced out of her wouldn't be heard two counties over, he didn't enter, or even attempt to. Lily's disappointment filled her like lead, and not like semen, and she knew that tonight, she was going to find batteries for that little toy she bought, and that was to be the end of it.

Rich, however, had other plans. He dropped a towel to the floor, and his knees fell onto it. Before Lily knew what he was doing, he had once again moved her panties aside, but this time, what pressed against Lily's clitoris was his tongue, and all her bracing was for naught, as her moan was loud, unashamed, and genuine. He licked up and down between her lips, and she pressed gently back into him, and when he started to lick at her clit again, she nearly couldn't stand. She grabbed onto the towel rack and held her weight up, even as her knees went out below her. She felt a heat and a tightness that grew, and grew, and told him to keep going, and going, even when she felt like she was going to collapse. What she hadn't had for years was building up inside of her, and even though his lapping was clumsy, when his tongue touched her clitoris again, she knew that he had given her something, that he'd given her the big O, because that was what moaned, and she sat back down onto his face, and her body shook and trembled, and her thighs tightened together as she squirted. If Rich noticed, he didn't seem to care, as he was drunk on her juice, and too proud of himself regardless.

When she thought she had cum more than she ever could cum, she looked down to find that Rich had turned himself around, and was now looking up at her between her legs. She couldn't see it, but she could feel it when without warning his tongue pushed up into her vagina, and she looked down and told Rich that she would do anything he asked. She squeezed her thighs around his face and smiled at him, and made faces for him that a proper lady wouldn't make, but whenever he saw her with bedroom eyes or crossed eyes or pursed lips, he licked harder and she would sit on hot coals for that. She felt another orgasm building and thought that this time she would warn him, particularly because he was in a more dangerous position this time if she squirted and also because she thought he might appreciate knowing the exact moment a woman goes into fits of love. She told him to lick at her clit some more, and he did, dutifully, so that her knees gave out entirely, and she couldn't support her own weight anymore. Rich lay on the ground, and she squatted above him, her arms holding her up by the towel rack, and he licked her until she was calling out his name, and then finally...

"I'm gonna cum, okay?" she said, and he nodded, or at least tried to. "I'm ... ghk ... ahnn ... cum ... ohhhhhhhh..."

His mouth filled with some liquid, though he wasn't sure if it was the same amount as he saw her release before. He thought it was cute, if a little odd, and she was looking down at him with the widest grin he'd ever seen. There was so much heat and moisture where his face was that he could barely breathe, but even after her orgasm he was still licking gently at her, pushing his tongue inside, if for no other reason than her heartfelt "thank you"s and the way it made her blush. He was getting very familiar and well acquainted with Lily's genitalia, which is what he wanted more than anything at the moment. He had never seen a woman's sex up close until now, and now he'd run his tongue over each and every part of it. The smell and taste were strong while she was hovering over him like this, but he enjoyed it enough that when even her arms got tired, and she apologized meekly for resting herself on top of him, he was still eager to explore, and so he put his arms around her thighs, pulled her weight on to him in reassurance, and started to lap at her vigorously once more. Lily's hands caressed her face as she realized that it was happening again, and she blessed the boy's tongue even as she defiled it with her cooch. She tried not to ride to hard, but rode hard anyway, unable to stop herself from using Rich's tongue as much as she could. She lifted up her shirt and let her tremendous breasts fall out just so he could see them while he was looking up at her, and when he picked up the pace that time she was ready for it, and came immediately to reward him, sitting on his face as she did. She scooted off of him, her sexual appetite still insatiable, and slowly got to her feet, while her lover lay on the floor, catching his breath.

As he rose, she saw just how strained his underwear now was. She briefly considered dropping to her knees and returning the favor, and as much as she wanted to, she couldn't risk him going off early.

Instead, she put her hands on the wall again, spread her legs, and turned to look at him. "Yours," she said, somewhat hoarsely, spreading herself with her fingers. This time, he responded immediately, dropping his drawers to the ground.

"Mine?" he said, and she felt his shaft slide between her legs, caressing her under, touching the two lovers together uninhibited for the first time. She shuddered, and fell back, draping her arms around his neck, resting her head against his chest.

"Yours," she said, sweet and simple, her smile like sunshine, her sex ready.

He had figured out by now where he was meant to be, and pressed up against the opening to her vagina. She nuzzled against his chest as confirmation, and he took a deep breath of lilacs, and pushed inside of her while she giggled and moaned. He buried himself to the hilt instantly, and she nearly whited out from the sensation, but then she thanked him with a kiss as she twisted a bit awkwardly to meet his lips.

It was warm and wet and tight, she squeezed around him lovingly and he had to fight off the urge to take off her claim of his ownership at face value, as he wasn't sure how she'd react if he suddenly filled her with a fresh load without asking. He pushed in and out of her, slowly, and she explained to him just how happy he's making her. She asked if he liked it, suddenly unsure of herself, and he said, quite honestly, that he's never felt anything better. She asked if he minded her big butt and he gave her such a sudden spank that she came a little bit, and had a red handprint on her right cheek for a few minutes. He gave her lighter spanks, fitting his hand underneath her underwear, occasionally pulling it off to the side so he could get a full penetration. Every time he bottomed out she trembled, and occasionally shook her hips. Rich filled her completely, driving into her from behind with force, completely disregarding the skirt and panties that were now meaningless in the face of Lily's deep, unquestionable penetration. Lily couldn't help but think that even if he withdrew now, what was done was done, and her womanhood would never forgive her if ... Rich pulled on her thighs, driving her onto him, and him into her, and she felt the heat building again. She looked back at the young man who was pushing her button, and knew not to get her hopes up, because he likely wouldn't last much longer. Still, for the sake of her shattered modesty, she had to try.

"Rich..." she said, her breaths coming heavy from both arousal and exhaustion, "could you ... hold on?"

He stopped. Instantly, Lily's body knew that wasn't right, and she pushed herself back onto him, again, and again, and he watched her.

"Don't ... stop..." she said, a whine in her voice that turned Rich's blood into fire. He figured out what she meant, or it seemed he did, at least, as he took hold of her hips and slammed into her, thrusting forward with as much force as he could reasonably balance. She nearly fell over, her feet sliding an inch, but instead she held her ground, took the blow, and started picking out wedding dresses in her head. As he started to take to the longer thrust, and she started to really take it, the heat built in a different direction: friction, and her pleasure started to build towards a much more violent climax. She held still and took it, turning to look into his eyes, and a moment passed between them that they knew it was wrong, but then why did it feel so good? Suddenly, Lily felt him grab her wrists, and then her balance went out underneath her and her face fell forward, down, and her hair fell around her vision, and she realized that he'd pulled her hands off the wall and wrenched her arms back, and was now acting as the counterweight that held her up. Her legs spread and her pendulous breasts weighing her forward, she only had time to have the word "manhandled" flash in her mind while Rich pushed into her, deep inside, before she was sucking air through her teeth, and then moaning loud and sweet, and she knew her young lover wouldn't understand what was happening, but it was enough that he knew she was enjoying herself, even if he didn't know that he just jolted her into a massive, partial hearing-loss orgasm. She came like it was prom night, and he kept thrusting, not sure if he should stop while her body was tensing up and subsequently going limp, and she loved him for it. Even moreso, she felt him struggling to hold up her weight, as her legs weren't exactly sturdy, and loved him all the more for it. She tried not to use the word "love" in her mind's view of the events unfolding, but when Rich slowed to a stop, still rock-hard and fully inside of her, pulled the hair back out of her face once she had steadied herself, and had asked, simply,

"Lily?" with genuine concern, she almost said it out loud.

Instead, she just said, "I just came," to ease what she imagined were his doubts. He was still pulsing inside of her, having held onto his own climax so valiantly, and she rewarded him by squeezing her thighs together rhythmically.

"Really?" he said, sound more happy for her than himself.

"Like, a lot," she said, somewhat red in the face at such a confession.

"It was good?" he said, half question, half assertion.

She held onto the wall again and looked back at him. She wanted to have as long a conversation with him as possible, in the post-orgasm afterglow, with him still pushing open her walls. Instead of answering him, she said, "what do you want, baby?"

She squeezed him as she said it, and for a moment, she thought her love juices were about to be joined by the creamier kind, but he held through it. He steeled himself, and then, almost as a retaliation, he pulled back and quickly thrust it up into her. She gave a startled moan, and he said, "I want you to cum again."

Lily didn't need to be told twice. She focused on cumming best she could, as she knew it couldn't be much longer that he would last. She wanted to let him get a second orgasm out of her (or fifth, who was counting?) but it quickly became obvious that it was a race against his own. He slowed to a stop, and she knew he was holding it back, but when he was sitting still inside of her again, it occurred to her that there was little stopping her from having him inside of her all the time. She smiled, but decided not to squeeze him, knowing he might not be able to last.

"Lily," he said, and she loved hearing him say her name, "I'm about to ... cum. Uh, sorry..." he said, and she turned to look at him again.

"It's fine," she said, trying not to let on that there was a very real possibility that she might cum anyway. She'd make sure to stammer it out this time, so that he'd know.

He moved it gently back and forth in her. "Do you want me to pull out?"

She couldn't tell if he was doing it intentionally to influence her decision, but she'd already made her decision. She put the ball back in his court. "What will we name the baby?"

Her hands stayed on the wall this time. Her orgasm crested, but she tried to hold onto it. Did she really just give him permission to fill up her womb? The wet noises filled the bathroom as his thrusting built to a fever pitch. Regardless, she thought, he was about to. She thought about her daughter's room. She was probably going away to college, soon. Would she mind if she installed a nursery?

Again, Rich pushed into her and held it there. "Do you ... want to face me?" he said, nudging on her leg as if suggesting she turn around.

She pushed back into him, and wiggled her hips. "Next time," she said, and he immediately resumed his pace.

She felt him throbbing, and she felt her own, last orgasm taking form, spreading an itch throughout her lower body. She felt Rich scratching it, but it just grew stronger. Before she lost the ability to speak, she turned back to him.

"Rich," she said, almost pleading, "you're going to make me..."

"Cum?" he finished for her, surprised.

"Yeah. When you're ready..." she said, but she hadn't expected the response.

"Here!" he groaned, and she felt him twitch as he thrust.

Lily tightened around him, knowing her last chance to buck him off was about to pass, and felt a warmth that terrified her as much as it excited her. She felt so ashamed that she was accepting the cum of a boy half her age inside of her, but that thought, as he filled her with spunk, that she'd just gotten plowed, by a virile young man, inseminated from behind like a bitch in heat, brought her over the edge. She couldn't speak, but she could tighten, and did automatically, coaxing out even more semen from him, so that she'd be full of the evidence of what had occurred, but more importantly: filled with his sperm. She knew if anyone saw her now, they would know immediately what she'd done, because it was written across her face, never mind dripping down her thighs. Rich, ever the gentleman, pawed at her sides, whispering words that she knew would make her blush if she could hear them. Would she still be Rosalyn's mom in his eyes? Or his lover, former and, she hoped, present?

He turned her around, though her knees were weak. So were his, she noticed, but he tried his best to stand and kiss her. He did, but not a second later the two of them fell to the floor, sitting down with their legs entwined, Lily accidentally astride his right knee. She crawled to him to kiss him more, and he kissed back, to her great relief. Even with the hunger in him fed, he still wanted to be with her. They sat for a moment in silence.

"Did you mean what you said?" he said, finally, "about a ... baby?"

"Oh! Well ... I mean, I might not get ... and I mean, I'll try not ... unless you want ... there's a pill, I heard, 24 hours..." she rambled, trying to say everything she wanted to say about the matter at once.

He took her hand. "No matter what happens, it's okay." For an ephemeral moment, Lily wished she had conceived, but she knew it was better if she hadn't. A small voice inside of her added "at least for now."

"We should ... avoid more of that for now," she admitted, feeling suddenly stupid and brash. "I can ... start taking the pill..."

He looked at her with an unreadable expression. Her heart sank. She'd been too presumptuous; there was no guarantee that that kind of precaution was necessary. For a few minutes, it had felt like they were the only people in existence, but now that it had passed, would he even want to talk about a "future"?

"You, I mean ... Lily ... can we... ?"

He sounded more hopeful than scared, which lightened her mood, but then a panic set in.

"Are you, well, legal?"

He looked confused, and she nearly started to cry, imagining herself on the front page of the local paper, but then he nodded.

"So then, there's nothing wrong with us ... I mean, it could be bad ... maybe we should slow down..."

He nodded again. "You're ... I don't want to make things hard for you."

"You won't. I'm okay. It's you I'm worried about," she confessed. Her husband was the only man she had ever been with, but she didn't want to get him stuck with her if he wasn't ready for that kind of commitment. It occurred to her even that just like her daughter might be moving away for college, so might he. She worked from home, but she couldn't uproot herself ... or could she?

"I'll work hard," he said, out of nowhere, "I'll be fine."

She kissed him, as he lay against the sink. When their lips parted, she realized that she could still go for more, but she was sure that even with the limitless energy of a young guy, there was no way he could handle any more.

This was a lie, however, which became even more obvious when she felt his knee rubbing against her. She shifted, thinking it was an accident, but when he kept the pressure on her, she closed her eyes and tried first to steel herself, and then to remember what it was like about an hour prior, when being utterly oversexed was the least of her problems. She started to kiss him, tongue against tongue, her arms around his neck, while spreading her knees further apart, pressing the crotch of her panties onto him more and more.

She watched him get steadily erect again, and slipped himself underneath her. To her great surprise and mirth, he pulled her panties aside again, and her eyes flicked between his eager face and the eager thing pressing up against her again, and she smirked. She was holding herself above him, but relented slowly, so that gravity spread her pussy, slowly, while she savored the feeling of being penetrated again. She was surprised to discover that she actually felt somewhat sore; in no way, however, did this mean that she intended to stop him. It slid inside her, and he watched with interest as an older woman took him inside of her, her thick thighs straddling him, her girlish face showing both love and lust in perhaps unequal measure. She put her hands on his chest, lowering herself on him with certainty. When he was all the way inside, she leaned forward and kissed him, squeezed him, and repeatedly rode hard onto him, dropping her soaked crotch down with force, swallowing him, in the hopes that if he couldn't see it directly, he wouldn't noticed how sex-starved and slutty she looked doing it. She was selfishly fucking herself, but she hoped he wouldn't pay notice or mind, and it seemed he didn't. Her legs quickly got tired, unfortunately, and she pulled herself up then, sitting up, and settled into a rocking motion and rhythm instead. She checked to see if the bathroom door was still closed, and it was, and she felt her breast getting hot when she thought about what that meant. She imagined that the house was visibly shaking, and wasn't sure if she wanted her neighbors to see or not.

Rich sat up, so that they were both sitting, her in his lap, their faces close enough to kiss, and they did, to be sure, an uncountable numbers of times, but they also simply looked into each other's eyes and let the passion flow through where they were connected. She gripped at his back, trying not to claw him too hard, and he held her face, and she felt loved, and he lowered his hands to her waist, and she felt like bouncing, and he lowered them further still to her ass, and she blushed with a little pride, seeing that he had taken a keen interest in her full breasts and her full bottom. His hands were there when she came, burying his face in her bosom to his delight and suffocation while she harmonized with the bathroom walls, her moan of pleasure echoing with in their ears. She released her grip on him, and he took a big gulp of air, but took little time to rest before he returned to her chest, licking, sucking, and biting gently at her nipple. She held his head there, a stupid smile on her face, taking some enjoyment out of it, but mostly in watching him enjoy himself while she rested. Her body ached a bit, as she hadn't been this physical in anything for quite some time.

Suddenly, she felt him press against her cervix, narrowly avoiding a painful collision, and she was lifted off the ground. He had pushed her back, and her head nearly hit the wall, but he caught it, rising to his feet. She realized immediately that he wouldn't be able to lift her and have sex braced against the wall, but the feeling of being lifted by his strong arms and the way he struggled kept her quiet, so instead she wrapped her legs around him, him still inside, and prepared herself for the inevitable tumble. She wondered if the paramedics would pity her. If she survived, she vowed to step up her running routine, as she had to lose enough weight for him to lift her like he was, because she loved it. He thrust once, twice with her against the wall, and then his hands underneath her gave out, and to her great relief, her legs fell unsteadily to the floor. He slipped out in the process, but he was still rigid. They steadied themselves on the other, and Lily still felt her heart racing from the orgasm or the thrill or both.

"Sorry," he said, his face pressed against her neck, half-resting and half-kissing.

"Not your fault," she said, rubbing the tip of her nose in his hair, "I'm too heavy for that."

She squeaked when he grabbed her backside, and again she felt a sudden thrill as he lifted her into the air, this time vertically. She started to breathe rapidly, frightened, and looked down at him, straining to hold her up. It was stupid and sweet, and she tried to smile through her mask of terror. His hands on her cheeks were for support as much as they were for groping, which she found she didn't mind as such.

He lowered her to the ground, again, and held her in his arms. "You're not too heavy," he said, almost out of breath.

"No, you're just strong," she said, feeling at his bicep.

"I'm scrawny," he said, and she could see that, too. He was thin, but he hadn't apparently noticed that his muscles were developed.

"I like it," she said, and she could see that he was conflicted. He wanted to say that he liked her fullness, but he didn't want to say that she was chubby. Instead, she turned around. "And you like this, don't you?"

She purred lightly when his hand traced along her lips through her panties, which were wet enough to adhere to the wall.

"Not that. I know you like that," she said, still able to feel the wet warmth that she wanted more of. She hadn't masturbated in years, but she knew that if that night, she happened to think on what was inside of her, she would be clawing at the sheet, sighing his name. "You like this, right?" she said, pressing her hips back at him. Her cheeks, half-naked, rubbed against his hardon, and he responded by moving his hands over and grabbing handfuls of her, kneading her cheeks underneath her whities.

She looked over. The bathroom door was still closed. Did she ever have to open it? His hands worked faster than she could keep up with, as he reached underneath her skirt and pulled down her underwear, dropping to his knees with it, watching as it slid over her full moon, and then pulling it over her thighs, until they stretched between her knees. The whole region was moist, particularly her thighs, and drips of sweat and passion fell down onto the stretched cotton. Lily put her elbows on the wall. He was going to explore her body, and she was going to cooperate as best as she could. An hour ago, she was too embarrassed to let him see her with such a short skirt and no underwear, and now his hands were working under that skirt, and her underwear was between her knees. He was memorizing every aspect of her most private region, and she thought about him going to his friends and explaining her in detail, which she hoped he didn't, and didn't think he would, but the thought didn't make her drip any slower. His fingers felt at her sex, and she shuddered, and they ran between her thighs, but there was no question where his focus was, as he pressed his cheek against hers, rubbed her, kissed at her, and held her skirt up, just to get a full view of her big, full, round moneymaker. Whore. Lily's heart was in her throat. That's where she had seen earrings like these before ... why did Rosie have a pair?! And she was wearing them, too ... She was glad that Rich was looking so intently at her rear end, because her face had become beet red with embarrassment.

"Do you ... think I'm a slut?" she said, suddenly very self-conscious. Rich froze, though she couldn't see his face, and then pressed his face between her thighs, and quickly forced his tongue up into her still-sore womanhood. A moan escaped her. She wasn't sure what it meant but she figured it was an acceptable answer to almost any question.

He withdrew, just as suddenly. "No. Do you?"

"No!" she said, defiantly.

He gently rest his face against her cheek. "Are you going to judge me?" he asked, slyly.

She relaxed. He wasn't some predator, and neither was she. She looked in the mirror. The earrings were pretty, anyway. "I'm not," she said, wiggling her hips enticingly, "so just enjoy it."

He took a cheek in each hand and rubbed them in opposite circles, spreading them at the widest point. Lily's ease shattered, as she knew what he could see. She tried to clench them together, but he slapped her on the cheek, insistently, and she relented. Almost as punishment, she thought, he held them spread, and her face burned with shame. There were some things she knew were supposed to stay private.

If Rich knew that, he didn't seem to care, as the next thing Lily felt was a sure finger, pressed against her perky little butthole. She bit her lip, but a finger brushed her labia, reassuring her. She shuddered. He tapped his finger onto it, and Lily got her first taste of a very queer feeling.

"That's..." she whispered, as if someone might overhear this, but not the loud, frenzied sex they just had. "My..."

"I know," he said, chuckling, like he wouldn't know that women had them. He pressed his thumb against it, and started to tap it slowly. His other hand ran his fingers gently over her skin, trying to relax her.

It wasn't working. Her mind reeled. Had she done something wrong? Was he teasing her? It didn't feel bad, exactly, but...

He removed his touch, and went back to spreading her cheeks. She sighed with relief. Now that he'd touched her balloon knot, there wasn't as much shame in him looking at it. That is, until she felt another new sensation, and realized that it was his hot breath on it. His face was inches away from the last part of her she wanted to be closely inspected. The sudden weird feeling made her clench up again, but again he spanked her, and lightly caressed her thereafter.

He held her open, and she felt his breath, and then suddenly, he touched her again, briefly. With his hands on her cheeks, it took her a moment to put together what he'd done, and when she did, she giggled. He kissed her! It was such a silly thing to do that she didn't even think about how intimate an action it was. He wanted to kiss her butt. It was so cute, she relaxed considerably, even though he was still breathing on her.

He kissed her again, more firmly this time, and she felt a bit perverse in realizing that she somewhat liked it. She wondered, with some uncertainty, if she would want to kiss his lips after he'd kissed her rear, but she couldn't help but find the whole strange ordeal oddly cute. She'd showered just before, anyway. He kissed her again, and she giggled again. Who has someone kiss their butt? A queen, maybe, she thought. She had wanted to be a princess when she was a young girl, but she never thought that one of the responsibilities was having your tush pecked by a fine prince. He kissed her again, a bit more forcefully, and the shame creeped back. He was touching his lips to her, there of all places. But, she thought, elbows leaning on the wall, she did say he could explore, and he'd definitely earned it. She'd put up with a few kinky kisses if it meant he got his fill.

The next kiss had more pressure than the others, and was even wetter, strangely, and Lily raised an eyebrow even before she felt something press up and into her sphincter, which made her eyes go wide as saucers. She was utterly mortified, but too shocked to move, particularly not knowing what he'd just done. It wasn't until the foreign object started to move about that Lily realized he'd just given her a tail in the form of his tongue, and her face had never been so red in her life. She didn't know what to do. Did he know what he was doing? He couldn't, could he? She tried to ignore that the strange feeling she felt before was now, obviously, a kind of sexual response, because she didn't want to think about what Rich would think of her if he knew that Lily liked the feeling of someone's tongue in her butt. Lily clenched, involuntarily, and Rich made a sound, and she became even more impossibly red-faced when she realized she'd just tightened her sphincter around his tongue. She tried to relax, but how could she relax while his tongue licked at her insides, feeling at the walls of her rectum? Rich's hands wandered, up past the elastic band of her skirt onto her lower body, over her hips, in between the front of her thighs, even touching at her soft, tiny pubic hairs on her mound, but to her frustration, he kept his tongue imbedded in her chute the whole time.

She had a growing suspicion that he knew exactly what he was doing, and that he loved it, judging by the erection she need only look down to see between her feet. Still, she wasn't sure. "Rich ... your tongue ... is in my butt."

Rather than intended effect, she felt him moan into her, and pressed his face between her cheeks harder, and she felt the tongue slide in deeper into uncharted territory. It wriggled around and defiled her (or did she defile it?) She noticed too late that her hand had somehow drifted back, reaching around to the back of his head, and was now holding him there, forcing him to tongue her virgin butt. She was going to jail. There was no question now. Someone was going to break down the door, and see her standing there, forcing a young man's tongue into her backdoor, and she was going to be arrested for being such a colossal pervert, because who would believe he was doing it himself?

But nobody broke down the door, and Lily's hand didn't leave the back of his head, because despite the dissonant tempest in her mind, her dripping had grown faster. She couldn't understand why she enjoyed the feeling, and she couldn't understand why Rich would subject himself to such a thing for her pleasure when she had given him such control. It was the most perverse thing she'd done, except all that meant was that she was getting that much wetter thinking about the closed bathroom door, and her wet, apparently tasty anus.

Rich stopped, perhaps to rest his wriggling tongue or to catch his breath, as the moist, hot air near Lily's womanhood was difficult to breathe. Lily took the opportunity to clench her cheeks, in the hopes that he could come to his senses before diving back in. "Do you like it?" he said, wiping his mouth, earnestness in his voice.

Lily's lips weren't sure what to do. She was smiling awkwardly, and there were maybe a dozen conflicting reasons why. In the smallest voice she could muster, she murmured out "yeah..." She mustered up her courage, and said in a still wavering voice, "do you like it?"

He kissed her cheek. "I love it. Can I have some more?"

Lily's mind spun. Have some more? He loves it? With some hesitation, she relaxed her cheeks, and said, "as much as you want." She braced herself for re-entry, but he spread her cheeks, kissed at her again, and then stopped himself.

"Push out," he said, and she cursed herself for thinking it was going to be so easy.

"Push out?" she repeated, stunned.

"Like, you know. Push."

Against her best instincts, Lily obeyed, and Rich watched while her balloon knot puckered. Lily felt his tongue slide inside, easily this time, and sighed. When he started to caress her backside, her legs, and then finally inserted two fingers inside of her vagina, she welcomed him inside readily, and even pushed back, to signal that she wanted more tongue. He obliged, and Lily felt the weight of it pushing open her rectum, flicking at the space it created inside of her, licking at the walls without reluctance. As Lily felt it wriggling around inside of her, she mused that Rich had been wrong about her; she was a pervert, and she had the tongue in her anal canal while she approached climax to prove it. He made out with her ass as fervently as he made out with her lips, and that made her gush to think about it. She knew she was going to kiss him afterwards. It was only fair.

Even though she was nearing her eighty-third orgasm, by her (admittedly inaccurate) count, Rich withdrew again. She waited, patiently. If he wanted to stop, she would let him. She couldn't hold his head there as long as she desired. He'd done so much already.

"Come," he said, lying back down again. Lily didn't have to try too hard to hear the unspoken "sit on my face" his voice. She dropped to her knees, and scooted back until she was hovering over his face, but she hesitated.

"Are you sure? I'm too..."

"You're just right," he interrupted, and her heart fluttered, and she didn't even notice that she'd brought her butt down on top of him. He moaned into her, and inserted his tongue again, and she started to rock. She had sat on his face the other way before, but this was truly sitting, as she covered his face entirely. She wasn't even sure he could breathe. If the door opened now, she was definitely going to prison. Not just for being a pervert, but for attempted murder: trying to smother a young man with her big, fat ass. She could hear him taking breaths, however, even with his tongue as far in as it would go. She wondered if it could get stuck. She kind of hoped it would.

Rich's hands were on her rear, and she knew now that he was enjoying her weight on top of him; that he liked the idea of giving service to her bottom. She reared up, arching her back, trying to give him the best view and the best feeling, and she could see by the way his cock stood straight up off of him and leaked precum almost as must as she dripped onto his chin, now, that she was doing something right. She wanted so badly to lean forward and give him that release, suck it right out of him, and swallow it dutifully, but she knew he wanted her sitting. Her mother had once told her that men only to put it in a woman's mouth to shut her up, but she would have let Rich silence her every morning when they woke up together and every night before they went to bed. She reached underneath herself and inserted her middle finger to the second knuckle, and stopped worrying about how perverse she was being, instead focusing on how good it felt. Rich didn't care that it was her asshole, only that it was her asshole, so why should she care? His tongue was outside, now, just licking it like ice cream, lapping at her backdoor like it had the best taste in the world, and for all she knew, it did to him.

When she was nearing her toe-curling moment, she withdrew her finger, and focused on the feeling of Rich putting his tongue in and out of her again. He stoked her fire slowly, but she tried to make it enough, and somewhat surprisingly, she felt her experiment working. His tongue was tiring when she felt the jolt from her quivering butthole a few inches down to her untouched, if not unloved womanhood, but that jolt was enough, and she bucked, tensing her entire body. She hoped it didn't hurt when her sphincter squeezed his tongue so tightly, but the way his cock jerked when she came meant he liked it. She came from her ass, a short orgasm, but it left her completely satisfied and so, so, perverse feeling. She leaned forward off of his face, and he gasped for air, and wiped his face again. Her butt was tingling; he licked it partially numb, and it kept puckering on its own. She flipped around and lay on top of him, her chin on his chest, grinning like a cat and looking up into his eyes.

"I'll understand if you don't want to kiss," he said, looking down at her, his eyes half-lidded.

She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, gently. Then she pushed her tongue softly into his mouth, and caressed his tongue with hers. Knowing where it had just been, she tensed, but did it nonetheless. He looked at her, wide-eyed, grinning.

Her eyes, too, were half-lidded, bedroom eyes of the most satiated order, when she reached down and cupped her hand over his erection. He became still, anticipating. "You're not done," she said, pulling it off of his abdomen, index finger and thumb ringed around it, as she stroked it up and down.

"It's okay," he said, sniffing with laughter, "if you're too tired, that's fine."

Her muscles did feel stiff. Normally, when she was this sore...

"Let's shower together," she said, and kissed him while she stroked him.

"Really?" he said, sound a little nervous.

"You're modest now?" she said, giggling, and he laughed too. He motioned to get up, and she released him, and stood on her own as well. He was basically naked at that point, aside from his socks, so he helped her take off her skirt, her handkerchief (letting her hair fall not only down to her cheeks, but flare around her hips, almost), her shirt, and her socks as well. He kissed her foot while he removed her sock, and she felt ticklish. He looked at her naked body with some awe, as she did his, and the feeling of being naked together in close proximity without the drunkenness of sex to cloud their minds meant that the two became suddenly very shy, and very giggly.

He helped her step in first, and then followed, and she turned on the shower. It hit her too-hot skin and chilled and she yelped and grabbed onto him, so he held her in an embrace and rubbed her back until the water warmed. She lathered him first, tugging at his member a few times, playfully, before letting him rinse off. He lathered her next, running his hands over her neck, and then spending far too much time and soap on her breasts. She didn't mind. He was careful with her vulva, but she told him that it wasn't as sensitive to soap as you'd might think, so he cupped her in his hand and cleaned her. When she turned around, she knew he was going to spend a lot of time soaping her back, and he did, though she enjoyed his hands rubbing her shoulders, her hips, and the small of her back. She joked with him while he soaped her backside, as he was ... vigorous. When he bent down to soap her legs (you don't have to, she protested), he blew bubbles in the large amount of lather between her cheeks. The sensation was ticklish, but she didn't scold him. His hands were warm and soothing on her aching thighs and calves, and when he lifted her feet, she braced herself against the wall and hummed slightly with relief as he ran his fingers along the soles of each foot in turn. While he was down there, he spent some more time soaping her bum, even explicitly running his finger along her pucker, and then told her he was done and that she could wash off. She showed him how to wash her hair, while two little voices inside her celebrated when he took an interest and warned of growing too attached, too soon, respectively. There would be little use in teaching him how to wash her hair if he finished with her, ran back to his friends to tell them of his conquest, and then never bothered to contact her again. That insecurity tore at her, but she knew it wasn't true, and more importantly knew that she had to take the chance anyway. They say that for up to a month when you first start ... what, dating? Romancing? Whatever the word, a month into it, you're still out of your mind. She hoped that reality wouldn't come to bite her when they left the bathroom.

When her hair was rinsed, and Lily had had her fill of shower kisses, and Rich had had has fill of shower groping, the two wet, naked lovers shared a towel. They took turns drying front and back, with Rich's still turgid cock ending up wedged between her buns when she turned away to dry her front. Though he seemed to enjoy that, she turned again, because she had to face him before she dropped to her knees.

He felt her press her face up against it, though he couldn't see her under the towel, then he felt her kiss it, and then he felt something warm, and wet, and tight and heavenly, and he knew that for the first time, underneath the towel and hidden from all eyes, a woman had taken him into her mouth. She sucked at the tip, popping her mouth as she did, and then took him in deeper, hoping he wouldn't notice her slipping a finger between her legs. She held him at the base with her hand and let her lips do the work, moving back and forth over the shaft. When he peeked into the towel, Lily looked up at him with her big green eyes and blushed, but didn't stop sucking him, even when he put a hand to her face and let the towel hit the floor. He felt his cock jerk with excitement each time she did something he liked, and used that to get a feeling for what he wanted her to do (she taught him how to wash her hair, and now he was teaching her how to suck his dick, she thought to herself). She saw that his gaze kept switching from her face, and the cock in her mouth, to her rump he could see behind her, which she wiggled for him. She could taste his precum when she did, and even when she didn't. Though he was slowed by having cum once already, she knew he was sensitive after all of their play, and was quickly approaching ejaculation.

Lily idly fingered herself while he ran his fingers through her hair, then grabbed onto her head and started to guide her up and down the shaft at the pace he wanted. She allowed it, and made a note of the pace that he'd set. Before long, she could feel he was holding it back.

"Lily, can I... ?" he asked, tentatively.

She nodded. She closed her eyes. Let it all out, she thought.

Her eyes startled open when the next thing she felt was a cock pressing past her uvula and hands on her ass cheeks. He was putting pressure on her neck, not to mention making her gag, so she pulled off of him and coughed.

"Sorry! I just wanted to touch you," he said, embarrassed.

She wiped her mouth. "It's okay, you're a little eager..." she said, rolling her eyes at the understatement, which made him laugh. "Do you want to let it out into my belly?" she said, rubbing her naked belly, while her wet hair set droplets running down her body. He watched her, hungrily.

"I do, but..."

"But?" she said, coyly.

"I'm not sure if you'll want to..."

She reached between her legs. "I think I'd be willing to do a lot..." she said.

"Uh, well ... the guys at school say ... all the girls..."

She cocked her head. "I'm a little older than the girls at school," she said, smiling slyly. "If they've done it, I've probably done it."

He nodded. "Oh. So ... you wanna do anal, then?" he said, casually, but eagerly.

She had to stop herself from smacking her forehead. That really should have been obvious. She tried not to let him see the anxiety on her face by turning away. "S ... sure."

She couldn't admit that she'd never done it before. All the girls were doing it? Did that mean ... Rosie? All the girls were doing it?! What were they teaching them? Though, having had a kid in high school, she guessed she couldn't say anything.

She pressed herself against the door. She wasn't sure what position to take. He came up behind her and rubbed himself against her back, which she enjoyed, but the worry of doing something new was weighing down on her. They were naked together, and her hair was still dripping wet from the shower, but the room was hot and steamy, comfortable.

"I'll try to be really slow," he said, and she nodded, relieved, "since I'm not really lubed."

Lubed? she thought. She wasn't totally unfamiliar with the concept, obviously, but not as it applied to sex and her own orifices. "O ... okay," was her unsteady response.

"Here, put your hands on your knees, and stick your butt out," he said, his excitement palpable. She did as he said, and he bent down again. She felt him lick at her, and then told her again to push out. She did, and he slid the tip of his finger inside. It was firmer than his tongue, and her sphincter tightened around it. The thrill of it made her passions flare, but she felt another burning that threatened to undo it.

"How is it?" he asked, and words failed her, so she just nodded. He inserted the finger deeper, and she stifled a gasp. She didn't know what to expect, so the sensation took her by surprise: how good it felt in part, but a larger part reaffirming her understanding that things do not go in the butt.

He stood again, and put a hand on the small of her back. "Here, hold yourself open for me," he said, politely, and she reached for her cheek.

"Like this?" she said, pulling her cheek to the side.

"Yeah. Bend your knees a bit."

She did. He had way too much knowledge about this subject, she lamented. He was still unsure, so she was certain he'd never actually done it, but she started to get a picture of some of the "instructional videos" he'd consulted on the topic.

"Ready, Lily?"

As ready as I'm ever going to be she thought, wrongly. He used a finger to find her hole, and then she felt him press something larger against it. She had stolen a glance at it while she positioned herself, and its size had become less of a positive feature as she measured its dimensions with her eyes. It wouldn't be the largest thing she'd ever had inside of her, and she took a small comfort in that.

She felt him pressing harder against her, and thought push, push. Of course, so did he, and finally, her anus started to yield to his demands. It opened as large as it had for his finger, and the tip of his prick held it open there, but then it opened wider and wider, three and four and five times that size, and when his head popped inside, and her sphincter instinctually snapped shut around the narrower part of his shaft, she faced forward, towards the door, and opened her mouth in a wordless, voiceless scream. She involuntarily grunted, and her toes curled and her fingers wrapped around her knees and squeezed her joints white. It felt like her muscles were totally unsure how to deal with the thing now lodged in her ass, a sentiment she could agree with. Despite her saliva coating it, it felt hot, too hot, and her rectum objected to the heat, and her muscles objected to the size. She worried that she might be hurting Rich, so she carefully turned to look at him without revealing the anguish in her face, and saw that he had a mixture of worry and utter bliss on his.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and her heart stirred. He was holding perfectly still, and his hand was caressing her cheek not in a sexual way, but a caring one. He felt harder than he had before inside of her, and she realized that the extreme tightness he must have felt (and did feel), was as good for him as it was a trial for her.

"Take it slow," was what she said, though hearing her say "take it" was fuel on the fire, for both of them.

"Does it hurt?" he said, still unmoving. He was making it difficult for her without realizing it: she was a terrible liar, even with nothing pushing up her ass.

"A little," she fibbed, and laughed a nervous laugh, strained.

"Do you want me to pull out?" he said, and she shook her head.

"Why, do you want to?" she said, smiling over her shoulder.

He groaned. He was definitely enjoying himself. She felt him urge forward more, and it started to penetrate deeper, pushing open her undefended, unaccustomed, aching walls. She clenched her teeth, or blew air through puckered lips, bent her toes and balled her hands into fists. It was rough, dry, and her bowels were stretched open, very slowly, but still intensely. She could feel the appeal, with certainty, as in spite of the utterly searing intrusion, she still felt some amount of heat in a more desirable place, as well, no doubt in part to the very idea of giving up her ass, of all things, to her lover.

He had taken his hands off his cock, now, no longer needing to guide it, as Lily's sphincter held it tightly in place, and guided it in on its own. He rested his hands on her cheeks, and occasionally threw his head back and thanked the angels that he got to do what he was doing. If he hadn't loved Lily before, he did now, watching her take him into her butt, with barely any lube to speak of, without complaints. Lily's anal rings coiled around him, tightening and loosening rhythmically, squeezing him up and down his shaft, which was halfway in by now. He looked down at her big cheeks, sprinkled with sweat and the water dripping from her hair, and he could feel the precum that he was dribbling inside of her bowels, and it felt hot enough inside of her that he wondered if they would flash-boil. He hoped that he could use his own as lube, as Lily was obviously not producing any, but no matter how much he looked at Lily's body and had to hold back a sudden, violent ejaculation, he could still feel that the saliva was doing most of the work. He spread her cheeks and looked down where he was entering her, and burned that image into his mind, even as he sunk deeper inside, and she swallowed more and more of him.

"Do you want me to pull it out a bit?" he asked when she seemed to be sucking air in through her teeth and groaning more. She nodded vigorously, wanting to let her most-recently pried open muscles to have a chance to relax, but as he slid backwards, her rings held him tight, and pulled back with him, until he slipped free, and the ensuing friction made her feel like her bowels were roasting.

Rich tried to show mercy, seeing that she was still having difficulties, so instead of penetrating deeper, he occupied the last few inches intermittently, getting into a slow, steady rhythm of back-and-forth, to-and-fro, which Lily recognized as a fucking motion, and felt a sudden perverse sense of pride and joy knowing that they were now actually having what could be called "anal sex." She looked back at Rich to see that his eyes were closed and he was moaning, and realized that he was in heaven, which was suitable because a small portion of hell had now taken residency in a small portion of her backdoor. Her muscles gripped and slid randomly, and he stoked a fire with each thrust, the head of his penis tenderizing her poor ass as it moved to and fro. Even her sphincter felt the motion as it tightened around his shaft, coaxing him lovingly even as she felt it turning puffy and red. If she opened her mouth to speak, she knew that all that would come forth would be a steady whine, so she kept her mouth shut and her eyes watering.

A door slammed. Hearing it made Lily jump, and tighten, which made Rich moan, and Lily nails scratch at the door like a cat. She listened, and so did Rich, who now stayed perfectly silent.

"Ma, I'm home," came the voice, and the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen. "Where are you?"

Carefully, Lily opened the door, and peaked out her head. Rich watched with amazement.

"I'm in the bathroom, honey. Uh, doing some pipework."

Rosalyn grabbed a quart of orange juice from the fridge and drank the last of it from the carton. "You're plumbing? Mom, I'll pay for a plumber. You're just going to screw it up."

"Hey!" her mother called, forgetting for a brief second that she still had Rich up her butt, "I have Rich helping me. He's ... good at this sort of thing."

"Rich is in there?" said Rosalyn, tilting her head, looking at her mother through a crack in the door. "He waited all this time?"

"He's ... a very patient boy," said Lily, and Rich bit his finger to keep from laughing. Lily fought to keep a straight face.

"Well, then, I'll be in my room. When you two are done laying pipe or whatever ... Rich, you heard me."

"Yeah," he called out, not daring to test his voice with anything else.

Rosalyn walked over to her door, and peeked inside. "Were you in my room?"

"Uh ... Rich just wanted to take a look at the math book."

"Oh. Okay," she said, turning to look at her mother's face in the doorway. "Do you ... need any help?"

Lily's mind raced. An idea struck her, though she needed to work quickly to make it fit.

"Uh, yeah ... we need to slick up the pipe that leads into the sink ... but I don't want to use any of the grease. Rich says we could try ... uh ... butter."

"I think we only have margarine," Rosalyn said, walking back to the kitchen, and then opening the refrigerator door.

"That's fine!" said Lily, her bowels still stirring uncertainly.

"If I microwave it, it'll work better."

"Good idea!" said Lily, thanking her lucky stars that she raised such a bright young woman.

A half a minute later, and Rosalyn handed Lily a bowl of melted butter. Lily took it carefully, so as to not expose her nakedness or the young man whose feet were behind hers in a very obvious position.

"Thank you sweetie. Love you," she said, and meant it.

"Love you too, mom," Rosalyn said, kissing her mom on the cheek, oblivious to what was happening to her. "Your hair's wet," she said, somewhat confused, somewhat suspicious.

"I never said I was good at plumbing," said Lily, in a moment of brilliance that made Rich nod his head, impressed.

"Alright, like I said, I'll be in my room," said Rosalyn, closing the door to her room.

"Should we stop?" whispered Rich, into Lily's ear. Feeling him whisper into her ear made her decision easier.

"No. Here, put this on."

Rich took the bowl, and let it pour down Lily's cheeks, and directly onto his exposed shaft, which nearly pulled out entirely, which Lily discovered was a feeling she enjoyed. Having him stuff it back in was another matter.

Once the bowl was empty, and Lily's ass and thighs were coated in butter, Rich pushed back into her, and Lily held her tongue, so that her daughter wouldn't hear how much her ass was being filled. The butter helped, immensely, but the damage had been done, and her sore bowels were now subject to a faster, smoother penetration by Rich. He was sliding in a little more than halfway now, and then almost out all the way, and Lily could feel that having her butt used that way was something she could look forward to in the future, even if in the present, he was stuffing half a pound of butter or margarine or whatever up into her colon, and her butthole burned red hot with the learned lesson not to neglect lubrication. She grunted and sighed and endured, and Rich was nearing his final satisfaction.

"Can I go deeper?" he whispered, and Lily knew she was going to regret saying yes.

She nodded her head, pushed out best she could, and felt him sliding deeper than he had before. Her bowels howled their objection, and it burned and ached, and a tear rolled down Lily's cheek which she quickly wiped off as he bottomed out.

His gentlemanly nature had been totally consumed by desire, and Lily need only think back a half hour to identify with that transformation. He fully penetrated her, taking every inch of her ass he could in thrust, and Lily's butt spasmed helplessly as he did. She knew she couldn't hold up much longer before she called out and her daughter heard her being buttfucked, so she turned to Rich and showed him her watery eyes and he slowed.

"Oh god, are you okay?"

"Yeah ... but ... can you finish quickly?"

He smiled at that. "Like, immediately, if you need me to," he said, and she smiled back.

"Go for it."

"Can I cum inside?"

"Can you?" she said, coyly, and braced herself.

He mashed it into her guts in hard, powerful thrusts. He watched his cock disappear completely inside of her, and he felt her convulse around him. He could see that her hole was red and sore, and felt bad, but knew he had to cum quickly so she could be done with it. He pumped it into her pooper like a man possessed, and Lily could feel him jerking and twitching and welcomed it. She reached back and held open her cheeks, partially to ease the friction on her anus, and partially to let him know that she was open to him.

She hoped that Rosie couldn't hear the slapping of his hips against her cheeks, even the loudest of them, which sent him deep into her guts, pushing open the full length of her rectum, and knocking the wind out of her. Her vision blurred, and as she looked back at Rich to warn him, her bowels filled with his seed, a strange sensation that reminded Lily of another, and she looked down at the seat next to her, and knew where Rich's second load was going to end up. Rosie knocked on the door, having heard the banging sound that was Rich's triumphant slam home.

"You alright, mom?"

"I'm good," she said, looking into Rich's half-closed eyes, in a half-voice, half-sigh.

She heard the door close to Rosie's room, and Rich slowly withdrew from her. His cockhead sliding along the walls of her rectum now was pleasurable, even if it stung, and Lily was relieved, after the initial ordeal it was, that she could enjoy any future attempts. When he pulled free, she tightened what she could to prevent his load from escaping with him.

Rich kneeled behind her. Her anus puckered involuntarily, looking thoroughly fucked, but Rich decided to keep that to himself. "Are you okay?" he asked, again.

"My ass is on fire," she admitted, hoping he hadn't done any damage. "Does it look alright?"

"It's swollen, and red. I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be so rough."

"I can handle it," she said, trying to let the cooling air of the bathroom soothe her. "That was, uh, my first time."

Rich boggled. "Really? Oh, shit ... I should have ... I was too excited..."

"I kind of liked it," she admitted, as well, and he blushed, as she turned to hug him.

The two lovers kissed, and then looked at the door, which brought them back to Earth. Rosalyn was home, and they needed to be stealthy and have their wits about them. Rich washed off his member, got dressed, and left the bathroom, and Lily turned on the shower, to take a third, short one. She kept the water cool, and spent an inordinate amount of time facing away from the showerhead. She took a quick break to let Rich's semen out of her butt, and then back to the shower to freshen up. She put Rosalyn's clothes in the laundry chute, wore the one towel, and walked out into the hallway. She quickly hurried into her room, not too concerned if Rich saw her, at this point, but knowing that it would be suspicious and potentially embarrassing for Rosie if she saw her mom walking around half-naked with a male friend of hers over.

She dried off and dressed herself in her room, picking out a lacy pair of panties to wear, for once. When she knocked on her daughter's door, she put on her poker face, and hoped she could hide her feelings for Rich from showing.

Rosie opened the door, but was alone in her room.

"Where's Rich?" said Lily, trying to keep her tone casual.

"He said you tired him out, and we could work tomorrow. I had a shitty day at practice, so that worked out, I guess."

Lily thought it was bold of him to say that she "tired him out," even given their cover story. She chuckled, shook her head, and asked Rosie what she wanted to eat. She went back into her room, heard a knocking on the window, and grinned.

She cooked dinner, took hers into her room, and fed most of it to Rich. When they were done, they laid in bed together in their underwear, and Lily complained about how sore her butt was. Rich apologized when Lily felt his underwear tighten, but Lily didn't mind. She cooed about her sore butt, and how much he'd cum inside of her, until Rich was straining in his underwear, and then Lily climbed under the sheets, and he fed her, in turn.

They fell asleep, Lily on his chest and her in his arms.

For the rest of this story, you need to Log In or Register

Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Heterosexual / Fiction / Anal Sex / Slow /