Copyright©

Mabel let herself into the house on Oakridge Avenue at 9 o'clock sharp. She would spend the morning cleaning and tidying for Mrs Williams, who lived there with her son Simon - he was eleven or twelve - but first she made her way to the kitchen to make herself a mug of tea.

She was in her mid-fifties, with auburn hair that owed much of its colour and absence of grey to a bottle, full-bodied ('voluptuous' was how she thought of herself), a pretty face with full, sensuous lips and seductive eyes. She had good legs — she thought of them as her best feature, apart from her full breasts, of which she was equally proud. She invariably wore clothes that accentuated her charms — dresses on the tight side, rather low-cut and a bit short, although on her cleaning jobs the dress would be an old one. Today it was green, to complement her hair and match her eyes, low-cut, short and sleeveless, and as usual she'd applied eye-shadow and lipstick, although not the full treatment of rouge and powder that she also dusted on her breasts on her evenings out.

While the kettle boiled she loaded the washing machine, then popped a tea bag into a mug, added hot water, sugar (not too much — voluptuous was one thing, podgy was another), and a dash of milk, and sipped gratefully. She was in a vaguely irritated mood — when she'd woken up she'd thought at first it was Tuesday, her day for cleaning Mr Foster's house. He was retired, and couldn't keep his hands off her as she worked, touching her breasts and putting his hand up her skirt making her giggle, and when she'd finished they went to bed and he gave her what she called 'a good fucking.' She thought perhaps she'd go her favourite pub, The Three Pigeons, tonight — she'd put on her 'glad rags', her best dress, particularly tight and low-cut that showed off her breasts, and high heels to emphasise her slender ankles and shapely calves. No stockings, though — they invariably got mauled.

The Three Pigeons was near the docks, and was always full of seamen looking for a drink - and more — and she'd have no difficulty in getting herself 'a good fucking.' She never took men home — her neighbours were far too nosey, but if the men could afford it they'd go to a cheap hotel, and if not they'd go in the park and she'd get her 'good fucking' up against a tree — she wouldn't lie on the grass and get stains on her dress. She took another mouthful of tea and thought back to the time she'd gone to a hotel with three Polish seamen, and what they'd done to her — repeatedly, taking it in turns. She shivered — it had been lovely...

She started the washing machine as she put the mug down on the counter, but caught her finger in the handle and tipped the remainder of the tea onto the floor.

'Shit!' she muttered, and got a cloth and knelt down to clean up the mess. She was suddenly aware that someone was watching her, and she looked up to see Simon staring at her. He was in his pyjamas, the jacket unbuttoned to reveal his bare chest, and his right hand was buried in the slit of his pyjama trousers. She saw that his eyes were fixed on her cleavage, and she glanced down at herself to see that her dress had fallen away from her body, showing the perfect hemispheres of her breasts swelling from her bra. She liked having her body looked at, even by a boy, and she felt a sudden thrill surge through her, and stayed on her hands and knees as she smiled up at him.

'Hello — you're Simon, aren't you? I met you when I came to see your Mum about the job. I'm Mabel!'

She remembered that the boy's eyes had flashed to her legs when she'd crossed them while she was talking to her mother, and that it had amused her. His mother had looked too, she recalled, and when they'd shaken hands the woman had held hers a little longer than necessary, and for a moment she wondered...

Simon was still staring at her breasts. 'Yes, that's right. I've got a cold, and mother kept me home from school. I came down for a glass of water.'

Mabel slowly got to her feet, hitching up her tight skirt as she did so, giving the boy a good view of her bare thighs. 'I'll get it for you, dear.'

She poured him a glass of water, and handed it to him as he came closer. She sat down on a kitchen chair. He thanked her, and glanced down at her knees. She smiled encouragingly.

'You seem to like looking at my legs, dear.' She hoisted her skirt to the tops of her thighs. 'Is that better?'

He stared at her bare thighs fixedly, and nodded silently.

Mabel took a deep breath. 'Would you like to kiss me, dear?'

For the first time, Simon looked her in the face, and he nodded again, and she took the glass from him and drew him towards her.

His lips were soft and cool, and she kissed him gently. To her surprise, he returned her kiss eagerly, his lips parted slightly, and he twisted his mouth slowly on hers, gradually increasing the pressure. Soon they were kissing tenderly, open-mouthed, and she felt his tongue slide into her mouth. She slipped her hand inside his open pyjama jacket and let it travel round to stroke his bare shoulders and back. His skin was soft and smooth, and then she felt his hand rest on her bare thigh.

They kissed like that for a minute, that lengthened into two, wetly, sucking at each other's lips, their tongues slithering and circling each other. Mabel's breasts were heaving as her breathing quickened, and when the kiss ended they stayed with their lips touching, brushing together.

'You kiss beautifully, darlin', ' Mabel said breathlessly, running her tongue over the boy's lips.

'So do you, Mabel — that was nice!' Simon replied.

They kept kissing each other lightly for a few moments.

'Mummy and I kiss like this sometimes, ' the boy said.

Mabel caught her breath. 'Do you, dear?'

'Yes — and - she lets me feel her tits. Can I feel your tits?'

She took a deep breath. 'Course you can, darlin'. I'd like you to... '

She quickly unbuttoned her dress and reached into her bra to produce a heavy breast. The boy cupped it in his hand and squeezed it, and she kissed him again, working her mouth wetly on his. Her hand was still stroking his back inside his pyjamas, and she slipped the other one into the slit in his trousers, to encounter his rigid penis. She fondled it lovingly while the boy gently kneaded her breast. She suddenly had a thought.

'Does your Mum touch you like this, too?'

Simon regarded her solemnly. 'Sometimes — but not very often. She says it's naughty of her.'

Mabel was still kissing him lightly. 'I don't mind being naughty — I like it!' she whispered.

They stayed like that for a few moments, caressing each other and kissing, and then Mabel pulled away and looked at the boy uncertainly.

'Can I can I kiss your dickie, darlin'?'

He pressed himself against her.

'Oh, yes, please, Mabel!'

She eased herself off the chair to kneel in front of him, and eased his penis out of his pyjamas. It was bigger than she would have expected for a boy of his age, its foreskin was startlingly white but heavily blue-veined, and the bulbous head was dark red, almost purple. She slid his foreskin back and forth a few times, and then kissed the head of his penis, licking it with her eager tongue. She smiled up at the boy.

'Is that nice, dear?'

He nodded speechlessly, and she kissed his cock again.

'Does you Mummy do this as well?'

He swallowed. 'Sometimes — when she comes in to say goodnight. But not as nicely as that. She just pulls down the bedclothes and kisses it once or twice... '

Mabel circled the head with her tongue, and then ran her lips up and down the shaft, smearing it with her saliva, and then she took his cock in her mouth. She heard the boy groan, and his legs started to tremble. She tugged at the cord of his pyjamas, letting them drop to the ground, and she cupped his bare bottom with her hand, steadying him. He braced his hands on her shoulders, and she started to rub and suck his cock simultaneously, while her other hand fondled his testicles.

Suddenly he gasped, and his semen flooded into her mouth in pulsating spurts, choking her. She swallowed his semen greedily, sucking him until his cock softened, then she sat back and ran her hand over the boy's belly and thighs, staring up at him as he looked down at her.

'Gawd, that was lovely, darlin'! Did you like it too?'

She shakily got to her feet, and the boy hugged her. He was still trembling, and she fondled his wet penis, rubbing her bare breast against his naked chest.

'Oh, Mabel, it was wonderful! Much better than when I do it myself!'

'Do you do it often, dear?'

'Lots of times — every day. I can't help it. Seven or eight times, at least.'

She gently disengaged herself. 'Christ, look at the time! I've got another job to go to after this, and I'll be late if I'm not careful. An' you'd better get back to bed — you've got a cold, remember! I'll come in and see you before I go, darlin'.'

She stared at his body regretfully as he pulled his pyjama trousers up, and she tucked her breast back into her bra and buttoned her dress. All she could think of as she cleaned the house was his slim, smooth young body and his lovely cock. When she was a girl she'd had sex with teen-age boys, although they hadn't seemed young to her at the time, and not long ago she'd met a seaman in The Three Pigeons from Madagascar who was nineteen, but who looked about sixteen — he'd had to show ID before they served him a drink. She'd thrilled at his young black body, although she wasn't sure if it was because he was young or black, and he'd fucked her insatiably. Maybe she was becoming perverted, she thought happily. At last she was finished with the cleaning and ironing, and she went to Simon's room and quickly dusted it while he lay on his bed, watching her.

She smiled at him and said she wished she didn't have to go. He threw back the bedclothes, and she saw that he was holding his stiff cock.

'Kiss it again, Mabel!' he pleaded, and she dropped to her knees beside the bed.

'Oh, darlin'! I'll do more than that! I don't care if I am late!'

She took his cock I her mouth once again and sucked and rubbed him frantically. She felt him tangle his fingers in her hair, and then he exploded in her mouth once more. She was almost sobbing with happiness, and she struggled up to sit on the edge of the bed, and she stroked his face.

'Put your hand between me legs and feel me, darlin'! Oh, Christ, that's wonderful!'

They stared at each other as he pushed his fingers into her vagina, and she bit her lip.

'Darlin' — what time does your mother get home?'

'About six, or a bit later, Mabel — why?'

'I could come back about half past four if you like, and we'd have an hour together. Would that be nice?'

'Oh, Mabel — it would be fantastic!' the boy cried, and she squeezed his flaccid penis, before bending to kiss it.

'I'll see you later!' she said to it, and then smiled at the boy. 'And you, too, dear!'

He took his cock in his hand as he heard her run down stairs, already thinking about her return.

It was all Mabel could think about, too. Somehow she got through the day, constantly dreaming about the boy's young body, remembering how his skin had felt beneath her hands, and his beautiful cock in her mouth, and his fingers in her vagina. About two o'clock she couldn't stand it any longer, and went to the bathroom and fingered herself to an orgasm...

She hurried through her jobs, although the day dragged endlessly, and she got away early. It was shortly after four when she returned to Oakridge Avenue, and she ran up the stairs to Simon's room.

He was in bed, apparently asleep with the bedclothes up under his chin, and she tip-toed towards the bed, intending to wake him with a kiss. But then he laughed and threw back the bedclothes, and she saw that he was naked, his cock rigid.

She gave a cry of joy, and knelt to kiss him and hold him in her arms, hugging him and kissing him again and again. He held her tightly, trying to drag her down onto the bed, but she wriggled free.

'Wait, darlin'! Wait till I get me clothes off!'

Simon watched breathlessly as she took her dress off, followed by her bra and knickers, and then she stood naked in front of him, and spread her arms wide, wanting him to see her body. There was a tracery of light blue veins on her breasts, and her large nipples had darkened to reddish-brown over the years. They were surrounded by large stippled aureoles, and they stiffened involuntarily under the boy's gaze. She took her breasts in her hands, offering them to him, and lifted them as she bent her head to lick her nipples, watching his reaction. She ran her hands over her body and down over her belly — she was glad she'd shaved her pubic hair the night before. Mr Foster loved her luxuriant bush, but sometimes she liked a change, and anyway shaving herself always got her excited, and she'd fingered herself and stroked her smooth skin until she'd climaxed. Now, she was doubly glad, seeing the way the boy looked at her, and also it meant the grey didn't show.

She stroked herself again. 'Do you like me like this, dear?' she asked.

The boy swallowed. 'It's — lovely, Mabel. Mum has lots of hair, but that's nice, too.'

She revolved slowly, cupping her bottom in her hands and parting her cheeks to let the boy glimpse her anus, and then she turned to face him again.

''Ere I am, sweetheart! All yours! You can do what you like with me!'

He reached for her, and this time she let him pull her down on top of him. She began kissing his face, his neck, his body, sucking his nipples and fondling his cock. She kissed that, too, but she had another use for it, and she straddled the boy and guided his cock into her. He gasped, his hands finding her heavy breasts as she started to raise and lower herself on his cock.