Copyright© 1999-2003

A young man of Llanfairpwllgwyngyll
While bent over plucking a dingle
Had the whole of Eisteddfod
Taking turns at his pod
While they sang some impossible jingle.

You may have visited my web site. Or you may have come across it in one of your browsing hours. Its rather popular but unpretentious. I don't need to spam, advertise or announce my site in any way. I don't need too, its more popular than I could ever hope for.

The site is an adult site, to be specific, it only has pictures and stories of mature women. Clear, graphic pictures with everyday women doing all sorts of nasty things.

Nothing new right? Well at my site you will find an abundant amount of mature ladies but you will never find them at any other. You see, I only have exclusive pictures and stories. Fully copyrighted by me of course. There has been much speculation in a few conversation threads about where these ladies come from.

I keep getting email asking where I find the models. Varying ages, none younger than thirty, any race, sexy or plain, thin to plump. All this can be found at my site. I've been asked so many times, and used my standard form email replies so often that I have started to consider explaining just where my ladies come from. I don't have enough time to do all that, each ladies story is similar but different. So the suggestion from one of my members was to give just one example, a memorable example, of a model that I found.

So here its is, just one example for you to enjoy.

All you find within is true.

I noticed her months before, just after moving into the yuppy condos, but never found a reason to say a word to her. Our building was only half a dozen floors with only four suites per floor, each suite was finished how the owner wished. Her suite, which she shared with her working husband, was styled in a more contemporary manner. It had normal sized windows, carpeting throughout and an abundance of furniture. I've noticed this all without stepping an inch into their home.

Barbara Dawson was her name, her husband was Marc.

As my schedule is flexible, I've said the customary nod and acknowledgement to Marc on occasion. Pleasant enough man; mid fifties, expensive clothing which is mostly suits, nearly completely bald and a bit of a waistline.

As for Barbara I've often smiled and made a point to be courteous to her. She was a mature woman in her mid forties, usually wears frumpy clothing, oversized round glasses and has a hair style that is years out of date. She was polite but reserved on all occasions.

I'm not a predator, at least I don't mean to be, so I never actively pursued Barbara. Oh certainly I saw potential within her, change of hair, complimentary clothing and a bit of well applied make up would do wonders. She also possessed that which I find most attractive in a woman, her shapely legs and round ass. Yes indeed, a potential sexy woman as my very own neighbour.

Let me make something straight, I don't look for women to become models on my site. Far from it, my adult site is simply the residue of my erotic adventures. I don't believe I would like the type of woman that would apply for such a nefarious job, that my site should have the woman next door type. Just like Mrs. Barbara Dawson.

Barbara was not innocent of my interest in her, as I openly gazed deep into her eyes as we talked. Or been caught watching her walk away, perhaps even with her husband arm in arm. She never once let on though, and I had to respect that.

It was one afternoon that she finally knocked upon my door. I saw her oversized humorous glasses and flower print dress through my peek hole. Of course I immediately opened it, "Oh Mr. Gardner may I use your phone, the workers... ?"

Smiling pleasantly I interrupted, "Please come in Barb," she raised an eyebrow at the shortened use of her first name, "the phone is over there." I simply pointed.

She came in tentatively and looked around at my Spartan furnished condo. I had known she and her husband were getting work done on their home, as I've heard the obvious sounds for the last day and a half. "Wow, this looks great!"

"Thanks. I like to keep it simple." I had hardwood floors that made a noise as she walked the few feet to my phone in the hallway near the foyer. It sat upon a rough stone out cropping from the wall, very classy, and expensive.

Standing near the door I leaned against the wall and watched her make her call. Barb had her back to me but often turned her head to see if I was still watching her. I was. I found her attractive and I had no problem if she knew it.

Finally she replaced the phone and turned around, "All done." I simply smiled and looked into her eyes. I could tell she was uncomfortable at my gaze.

It was several seconds of this awkward moment before she came towards me and the front door. "If its okay, I may need to make another call later?"

"No problem, my pleasure." I gazed down to the thrust of her breasts beneath her flowered dress, she followed my gaze and seemed rather embarrassed at my obvious visual advances.

"I can use Marc's cell phone after he gets home..."

Backing away from the door to give her a path out of my apartment, I interrupted, "Please feel free to come by any time Barb." I wanted to say more but thought better of it.

With my door half open she turned her head to face me again and said, "I love what you did with your apartment but if I came over I'd hate to mess it up!" It was Barb's attempt at a (lame) joke, as there wasn't a thing in site except the phone upon that stone out cropping in my foyer.

She was smiling as if her comment was witty and waiting for my verbal come back. I guessed this to be her method of flirting. Well this was mine, "If you do that, I would have to spank you."

I wasn't smiling and hers disappeared rather quickly.

With her face turning red she quickly exited my apartment.

I knew I could possess her as my own.

Barb returned once more that day and twice the next to use the phone. I was the perfect gentleman, courteous, polite while leering at her with a devouring gaze.

The third day when she came to my door to use the phone I knew that she was playing games. On that first day she had come to the door looking matronly, dowdy and rather plain looking. Now she had put some face paint on, wore a more attractive dress (to her) and also wore perfume. To me she still looked rather plain, but I enjoyed her attempts. She simply needed a real man to help her, me of course.

And there was the knowledge that her phone had been working since late yesterday afternoon. I had spoken to the phone technician on his way out of the building.

Barb was making this easy. I could practically smell her desire for my continued interest.

On her way out of my apartment this time she 'accidently' dropped her personal phone book and bent to retrieve it. This gave me a great view down the front of her orange (yes 'orange'!) blouse to her moderate cleavage. Nice but it wasn't enough to satisfy me.

"Oh Barb?"

Turning back to me with that personable smile and fluttering eyelids, "Yes Mr. Gardner?" (I had never politely asked her to use my first name)

"Would you like to have lunch tomorrow at the Chateau?" (a popular, and expensive, place a block away) "I will meet you there at one."

She seemed startled, "Lunch?" She shuffled caught unaware, her small flirting had gone a step beyond.

I was about to take it several steps further.

"I... sure, lunch would be delightful Mr. Gardner." Her smile tried to return but she looked nervous as a teenage girl. I could tell she desperately wanted to leave.

Nearly out the door I caught her attention again and said in a no nonsense voice, "And Barb... no panties or bra!" I pushed the door closed just as her face looked incredible at my instruction.

I wasn't surprised when Barb arrived on time, I stood and rather gentlemanly helped her sit in her chair. She wore a long black skirt, nearly to her ankles, and a tan thick sweater. I would say, of all her outfits this one looked the best on her. Simple and a little classy.

Of course, with the sweater I could not tell if she had followed my instructions or not. Regardless, I was the perfect gentleman that time together. I ordered expensive wine, which caused her to loosen up enough to smile (she was rather nervous up to that time). She told me what she wanted from the menu and I ordered for her. I asked many questions about her family and her until it seemed she was doing all the talking.

Walking the block back to our building, she was moderately drunk and a little unsteady on her feet. I had to reach out to steady her twice in that block and a half and she giggled at our first touch.

We reached our floor and stood in the hallway between our two front doors. She again started to look nervous. Finally she spoke up, "I'm married Mr. Gardner, it would never work." I simply smiled. "Happily married. I have three children, the oldest not much younger than you!" Barb shuffled on her heels nervously. "I'm old enough to be your mother!" She shuffled one inch to close to the wall and her heel caught on the ornate molding and she stumbled forwards.

Into my arms.

Barb lifted her face and pressed her lips to mine. I could taste the liqueur and garlic from lunch upon her moist lips as she fumbled in her haste to enjoy a kiss. When she realized that I wasn't responding she pulled back and stood up on her own, "I think I better go."

I knew how she was feeling, it was how I wanted her to feel. Foolish, like a elder woman whom realized she had been acting immature. She as also feeling embarrassed. I had not made one overt advance towards her, in word or action and imagined her confusion between my instruction and my actions.

Just as she was fumbling with her pass card in her door I reached out and pulled her arm firmly towards me. Barb again stumbled and fell into my arms. Roughly I asked, "Are you wearing panties Barb?" Gone was the polite gentleman.

She looked up in surprise and spoke in nearly a whisper, "No."

"Are you wearing a brassier?"

"No. You asked me...".

I silenced her with a kiss. A kiss that she had never felt before. A kiss of a man who knows the woman wants the kiss, a dominant kiss, a masters kiss.

It was a feather touch upon her lips which became firmer, our mouths opening and my tongue gently finding hers. Barb began to moan into my mouth, her hips already pressing forwards. She needed to feel loved, to feel desirable, like a woman.

Roughly I spun her about and pushed her flat against the wall of the hallway. Quickly, expertly, I pushed her feet apart with my own, and raised her hands flat upon the wall high above her head. I darted forwards and pressed my still moist lips to her exposed neck, she arched her neck to me and groaned deep down, "Oh yes!"

My hands slid down her flanks to either side of her thighs, and slowly began to bundle her long skirt up. "Yes!", Barb hissed.

I squatted behind her and with the skirt in my hands, raised it enough for me to gaze upon her nylon clad legs and bottom. As I had presumed, the sight was intoxicating and rather delicious. I was annoyed at the waist high nylons but saw my instructions had been followed as Barb wore no panties beneath.

I groaned with desire, which caused her to echo my own, and tucked her skirt into her waist belt. I grabbed a handful of nylon over each of her wide round ass check and tore it apart. Barb squealed when she felt the cool air kiss her naked skin.

Firmly I grasped each white smooth ass check in a hand and pulled them apart. I looked to see the abundant amount of moisture that was secreting from her sex, enough to lube up her ass cheeks and soak her nylons half way down to her knees. She had dark brown kinky pubic hairs thickly protruding from between her thighs and a few sparse ones up the crack of her ass. I could see the dark pink skin of about the wrinkled ring of her anus and saw it twitch as I drank in the intimate sight of her.

To be honest, I was simply appraising her. Knowing how to manipulate her enough to get this 'proper' middle aged woman in such a submissive position. I've done it before, many times.

And I liked what I saw. I usually do.

I stood back up and slipped my hand, palm up, between her thighs. As I whispered in her ear, "Your wet!", my two middle fingers found and caught her protruding clitoris.

Barb reacted immediately, she squealed out yet again and lowered her body in a near squatting position to press her sex harder against my hand. I allowed her to do this.

"I like you wet!" She moaned as a reply.

Knowing she was near, already, to an orgasm, I lifted my free hand to her waist and slipped it beneath her sweater. It moved upwards till it came to her hanging warm soft breast. Tweaking the nipple quickly I held it firmly as I doubled my efforts upon her clitoris, nearly lifting her body up the wall as I did.

In seconds Barb, my forty something year old neighbour, began an orgasm that I had little doubt was a rarity in her life. She groaned and cried out as her muscles spasmed and flexed before me. It was a delight giving her this gift and she enjoyed it for nearly a minute before pressing her sweaty tired body against the wall of our hallway.

Barb was gasping for air but smiling contently as my teeth nibbled upon her ear. My hands withdrew from her body and I spun her about and pressed her back to the wall. One hand (her hands having dropped in exhaustion during her orgasm) came forwards and grasped my hard cock in my pants. She groaned out with the knowledge of my excitement for her. Yet I doubt my response was anticipated.

I pulled her hand away from me and lifted it just above her head, then did the same with the other. I held both hands in one of my own above her as I pressed my lips against hers in a rough possessive kiss. She groaned in desire.

"If you don't do what I say I will punish you." Gently spoken but with a rough spark behind my words, she looked up into my eyes in surprise.

It was one of those moments that our lives balance upon. If her answer had been one thing I would have reacted differently and we may have a pleasant and pleasurable relationship. Yet Barb whispered her answer, one that caused my cock to twitch painfully in response. "Yes Mr. Gardner."

I simply smiled and corrected her, "Master!"

She seemed embarrassed, tiny, out of her environment, "Yes... Master." Barb also seemed to love that moment nearly as much as I.

I slid my hand again between her legs and coated my fingers with her abundant juices. Thinking I was going to bring her to another orgasm with my hand she began to groan out and lower her crotch into my palm. It was not to be.

Lifting my dripping hand I brought it to her mouth and without a word slipped a finger between her lips. Barb closed her eyes, fastened her lips about my digit and groaned out in delight as she cleaned her own juices. She, in fact, cleaned every finger and licked my hand clean.

Still standing in our hallway, her skirt tucked into her waist and one of her breasts exposed beneath her sweater, I let go of her hands and smiled sweetly at her.

"Open my pants."

Her hands trembled, "Yes Master." Barb seemed to quiver each time she said that word.

It took an impressive amount of time to get my pants open and my cock out. She nearly fell to her knees when she looked down at my eight inch hard cock, leaking with desire for her. In fact she could barely stand and was visibly shivering as if cold, I knew for a fact she was not cold.

"May I suck you Master?" She sounded humbled, like a little naughty girl. Wasn't she? I doubted she had ever tasted a man upon her tongue the way she acted.

Ignoring her question, I moved forwards and without ceremony or preparation, squatted down enough to get my cock between her thighs and shoved forwards.

Barb screamed so loud it echoed down the hallway (luckily I knew my neighbours schedule) and she flung her arms about me as I stood up straight. Her feet left the floor and she wrapped her sexy legs about me, one high heel falling to the floor already forgotten.

My neighbour was in her mid forties but I was in my mid twenties and I was in good shape. I had also had sex the day before (another older woman whom enjoyed being at my 'disposal') so I grit my teeth and began a fast and furious pounding that felt as if the cement floor was moving in response.

Within a moment Barb began crying out in another orgasm, a few minutes later another. I fucked her until both our muscles trembled in exhaustion, our skin breaking out in a sweat and our sexes echoed with sloppy sounds. A third time she orgasmed and I felt that she was not capable of holding herself up any longer and grasped each ass cheek and slowed my assault. My cock slipped, now, easily and slowly in and out of a delightfully hot wet woman. And the different tempo seemed to revive Barb enough that she was again clawing at my back and locking her heels to help hold herself up.

Not wanting her to have another release I suddenly pulled myself from her sexy hole and lowered Barb to her knees before me. Without asking or ordering I pressed my dripping wet cock between her lips until her nose pressed against my stomach. She was soon pressed against the wall, her head immobile by her position as I again started to pound my cock into her.

I fucked her mouth for a long while, listening to Barb scream and moan about my manhood, until I felt my release soon approach. Slowing the tempo, I eased it back and forth between her battered lips and felt her own desire at our coupling also rise. Without notice I pulled my cock from her mouth and the first blast of life giving fluids shot out and hit her on the side of her nose and on her cheek. The next jerk of my cock I lunged forwards and half of it dripped down her chin. The remainder shot down her throat.

Coated in my orgasm I helped her stand upon wobbly knees and one high heel. Barb tried to smile but only looked as she was, a freshly fucked woman. "Thank you Master."

I lead her gently to her doorway and helped her trembling hands open it. Pressing her forwards into her apartment, I smiled gently and said, "Still feel like your too old for me Barb?"

We had sex twice more (once in my bed and the next in my old fashioned iron tub) that same week when I found a note beneath my door.

Dear Master

I am dearly sorry but I am unable to meet you any longer. I

don't know how it happened but our affair is wrong and I

don't...

I ignored the rest and wrote in a large black marker.

Come to me tonight! (and wear stockings)

Slipping it beneath her door, and knowing her husband was home I knew the risk I took, I relaxed the rest of my Saturday at the Nouveau Club downtown. It was time for our relationship to change.

One in the morning a light knock echoed from my front door. I let Barb in and she looked nervous and scared, her husband was mere feet away from us.

"Master... !"

"Shut up Barb and come with me." I closed the door and walked down the hallway to my living room, not looking back. I had been exposed to older ladies, like Barb for several years, and anticipated some of their desires and actions rather easily. I knew she would follow. Deep down Barb was a woman that need to be dominated, possessed by a strong man. She wasn't peculiar, though you may be surprised to learn, as many ladies I have encountered feel the same way. To have a man, especially a younger successful man, dominate them and give them that which they most desire was a primary point of desire for many ladies.

I walked up to one of my large windows and stood looking out over the silent city and barked, "Strip down to you stockings!"

Silence.

I could hear her breathing behind me, most probably confused and a little scared. Perhaps even a little excited.

Then the telltale sounds of disrobing. It didn't take long, she had only worn a quick robe and who knows what else on beneath.

When it became silent again I finally heard her whisper, "Master?"

Nothing. I certainly didn't turn about.

"Master please? I must...", my hand rose and silenced her.

Finally I answered her, "On your knees slave." Faint noise on the hardwood floor that told me she had complied. "Now crawl over to the couch", a black leather Roman couch that sat by itself over to the side of the room, "and kneel upon it!"

"Please... ?"

"Thats five more slave." I finally turned about, my now holding the black leather crop that had sat upon the wide brick window sill. First thing I noticed was that she still wore here round over-sized glasses. Of course she wore stockings, as ordered, sheer black with an elastic band that held them up to mid-thigh. Barbara wore nothing else.

Behind those out of style glasses were some very wide intense eyes. She knew not what she had gotten herself into but felt a rush of adrenaline regardless. Barb saw my stern look and feel down upon her hands and crawl over to the Roman couch.

I waited until she knelt down with her had at the raised end of the couch before stepping forward. With the loose strip of leather of the crop, I pushed her knees apart, forced her back to arch downwards, pushed her forehead to the leather couch, put her hands above her head. When finally she was in a position I preferred, I stood back to enjoyed the view.

"Very sexy." I was speaking to no one in particular, but I did mean it. Barbara looked very sexy, stocking clad, white skin, long brown hair covering her face. I could see down between the cheeks of her ass and the tiny hair ringed anus between. Below that her beaver arched out from her full thighs, her inner vaginal lips already protruding with engorged excitement.

I stood back and quickly, firmly and with dominant intent, struck her raised bottom five times the the hard leather crop.

Barbara screamed out in pain and jumped forwards. I growled, "Back into position or you will get 5 more!" She jerked backwards, thick red welts already rising upon her white round ass.

Five more times my hand fell, the crop biting into her smooth soft flesh. She had learned enough not to jerk forwards, but she screamed out and knelt in one spot.

Barb was crying with great sobs onto the head of my leather couch.

"Take your glasses off." She fumbled with them and then I took them from her hand.

Turning about to the gas fireplace, I swapped the crop with an expensive camera. "Don't move slave!" She didn't as I took a dozen photos of her in this submissive position, her punishment obvious upon her pale skin.

Setting the camera back into its place, I knelt behind her and with no preparation or warning plunged my hard cock into her cunt. It was as simple as that, I fucked her as I would an inanimate object. She was but a thing for my pleasure and she knew it.

Even while crying her body was responding to the unemotional fuck I forced upon her, her sex was wet and soon the muscles in her sex were clasping me in a pleasure hold. Minutes later when her cries of pain and anguish turned to gasps of pleasure and enjoyment I simply sped up knowing my own release was fast approaching.

I came with little notice, while she had yet to reach her sexual pinnacle, my seed flooding her feminine depths until it even coated my cock. I held her hips in place as I gasped and sighed with pleasure.

Pulling from her body, I closed my clothing and returned to my place looking out of the window to the city.

"Get out slut."

I could almost feel her shame and disbelief. Hadn't she done what was asked of her? Had she not undergone great pain and humiliation at my command? What for? I could almost hear her thoughts.

Barbara dressed hurriedly, wanting to retreat from my domain as soon as possible. When I finally heard her move towards the hallway I turned and called out to her, "Slave?" She stopped and looked over her shoulder, eyes blurry with tears. "Go back home, crawl beneath the sheets of your bed and...", I couldn't help but smile maliciously, "... suck off your husband. Come back to me, here, tomorrow at precociously ten in the morning."

She rushed from my presence.

Until I heard the knock upon my door, I had not thought Barbara would return to me, that she had not done the final command that was given to her. That the fantasy woman inside her, the submissive woman, had been pushed too far. It would not be the first time, or the first mature woman to react in such a way.

I had seen her face as I sent her away last night, Barb had gone through an emotional roller coaster I'm sure. After leaving my apartment, being ordered by an intruder to commit an act that she herself admitted was never done in her marriage. To give her own husband oral sex. Doesn't sound overly nasty does it, but then you haven't been married for twenty plus years and had never put your spouses genitals in your mouth, it may indeed be a big event. All the while you do that, another man's sperm is leaking from your sex, probably dripping down your sensitive thighs to drip upon your clean private marriage bed.

Indeed, I had taken a bold step last night.

I could only guess at the returns if she complied, while assuming I would never feel my dick within Mrs. Barbara Dawson ever again.

I was wrong. The knock on my door came at preciously ten. I opened it and ushered Barb within my abode.

With a smile, I wrapped my arms about her and gave her a soft hug and a kiss upon her cheek. It startled her, as this was a different man than the one that had punished her the night before. She wasn't sure if she should smile or not, but I winked at her and said, "I've a big day planed for us."

"Day?"

Spinning about I retrieved my day pack, "Yup. Drive down to the shore and walk along the beaches, dinner at D'Janice," a vegetarian yuppy place, "and back here for a long slow love session." I spun about and retrieved my camera, the same from the night before.

Barb couldn't help but react when she saw the camera, "What's that for?"

"I thought a few photos of you on the beach would look great. Your a very beautiful woman Barb."

"Thank you." She smiled gently and stared down at the floor, obviously nervous.

"Master!" It was the first sign that I was still the same man who had punished and degraded her the night before.

Her smile gone she looked up into my eyes, "Yes, thank you Master." Barb knew the trouble she would be in to cross me, at least she thought she knew.

"Good girl." I couldn't help but smile mentally at that statement, she was nearly twenty years older than I and I was treating her like a little girl most of the time. "Now lift up the hem of your dress for me Barb."

She slowed only a seconds surprise before complying. Barbara wore a flowered print dress probably purchased twenty years earlier. She looked pretty, in her middle-aged woman next door look. That would all change sometime soon.

"Take those off." Though she wore panties I felt lenient and was not prepared to punish her for her indiscretion. Barb immediately moved to comply, quickly dropping her panties and stepping out of them. She left them about her feet and returned to holding up the hem of her dress so I could now see her naked loins.

"Hum... makes me want to skip dinner and get right to the lovin'!" Barbara actually giggled and again acting like a teenage girl with her fluttering eyelashes and fleeting looks at me.

"Now your top, show me your breasts." This took a bit longer to comply and I was given an opportunity to ask, "Did you do as I asked last night slave?"

Barb's smile again disappeared, "Yes Master." I do believe Mrs. Dawson as blushing.

"Did Marc enjoy himself Barb?"

She nodded and whispered, "Yes Master."

"Were you a good slave and swallow?"

She froze, "No Master." A few days before she had confided in me that she and her husband rarely ever have sex, let alone oral sex which had never been enjoyed before in their relationship.

I laughed gently, "Well I suggest the next time you give a blow job, you do it right." I could see enough that she had not worn a brassier, "Excellent Barb. Button up and lets have a great day."

Her smile slowly returned, "Thank you Master."

Our relationship had changed, for the better if you ask me, irrevocably. Barbara was starting to act like a woman half her age, smiling laughing and being playful. She knew the boundaries of our relationship, in such that when instructed to do something she had better do it to the best of her ability.

Its been several weeks since I had to punish her, and since, I had not a reason to repeat the punishment. I was her master and Barb flourished as a submission.

A few things had changed in a way that another noticed, her husband Marc. You see, Barbara now never wore under garments unless it was of a sexy sheer or lacy kind. (she had to purchase everything and threw out all her old under clothing) And after I gave her a present to a day at a spa and another at a salon, she returned practically glowing with a new hair style and different more conservative makeup style. She looked years younger. Barb looked great.