"Damn!" Caroline thought to herself, as she stepped into the taxi. It certainly had not been 'the plan' to conclude her night out with her husband, Oliver, by putting him to bed, in a state of hopeless inebriation.

Bed had certainly been on Caroline's agenda. After the last couple of weeks at the office, what she needed most in the world was a leisurely dinner and romantic conversation with the current man of her dreams, followed by — let's face it, she thought to herself, with a wry smile, a bloody good shag!

Oh, yes, she ruminated, despite the 'posh' exterior, she had always had very earthy appetites, and it had always been difficult for her to go more than a week or two without a good stiff cock thrusting its way up her. And, up to now, Oliver had been pretty good in that department, but, tonight, one glass of wine had led to another and, although he had been very 'keen' just an hour or so ago — his prick stiff as a rod while they had been dancing together — emergence into the fresh air had hit him for six, and it had been all Caroline could do to get him back to his town flat, and safely tucked up in bed, out for the count.

She had asked the taxi-driver to wait, and now she was on her way back to her lonely bed at the hotel. Remembering Oliver's erection poking against her stomach, his hands caressing her bottom, as they waltzed slowly round the small dance floor, Caroline's nipples hardened under her dress, and she felt a small trickle of moisture between her thighs.

Oh, god, she thought — I don't suppose the taxi-driver would settle for 'payment in kind' tonight? But he looked well past it and, anyway, she wasn't reduced to that, just yet. But she had been looking forward to a really good rogering...

Oh, well, she thought, there's always a lonely girl's best friend, in the dressing-table drawer ... Now, which one would she have tonight? It would have to be the thick black ten-incher ... She shivered in anticipation, and squeezed her thighs together. How far to go?

Glancing out of the window, she saw a lonely figure striding along the darkened, deserted country lane. Something about the set of the young shoulders seemed familiar, but it wasn't until the taxi had left him about fifty yards behind, that Caroline recognised her godson, William Andrews.

"Stop, please, driver," she exclaimed. "Can you back up a bit and pick up that young man?" She saw the driver's face register surprise in the mirror, and hastened to reassure him. "Oh, it's all right," she said. "I know him — he's my godson."

The driver put the cab into reverse, and backed carefully down the lane. Looking out of the rear window, Caroline saw William's face register surprise, then a certain amount of wariness. He slowed his pace as the car drew up just in front of him. Caroline wound down the window.

"Hop in, William," she called. "You don't want to walk all the way, do you?"

His face cleared. "Oh, hi, Caroline," he said, a slow smile spreading over his face. "Thanks very much. You're sure you don't mind?"

"Don't be silly," replied Caroline. "Jump in."

He made for the seat beside the driver, but Caroline opened the rear door. He's such a polite boy, she thought, fondly — never takes anything for granted. William hesitated, then got in beside Caroline on the long bench seat, taking care to sit right in the corner, so as not to 'invade her space'

"So," she asked, as he perched forward on the edge of the seat. "What have you been up to tonight?"

"Oh, just the disco in town," William replied, and, had it not been dark in the cab, Caroline could have sworn she saw him blush.

"Any luck?" she teased, and he gave an embarrassed laugh.

"Not really," he said. "I'm not much of a dancer. Anyway, I've got to be up early in the morning. I've got my paper-round, before school."

He really was growing up well, Caroline thought — and he's a good-looking boy, if only he knew it. He must be nearly six feet tall, and his open-air work on the farm at the weekend gave him a rugged, healthy appearance. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, and Caroline noticed how his chest and biceps stretched the tight cotton.

The taxi drew to a halt outside Caroline's little cottage on the edge of the village, and William fumbled in his jeans pocket. Caroline poked a ten-pound note through the connecting window and told the driver to keep the change. William was still fishing in his pocket as the cab drove away, and Caroline remonstrated with him, waving away the proffered five-pound note. William gave in, and pushed the note back in his pocket.

"Well, thanks very much, Caroline," he said. "I best be off, now."

He turned away and, on an impulse, Caroline said — "Look, how about coming in for a coffee — we haven't chatted for ages — and I am your godmother. You can tell me how school's going."

"We-e-e-ll," he hesitated. Caroline took his arm. "Oh, come on — you have to see me safely home, anyway — don't you?"

"Oh, yes," he replied, confused, and Caroline laughed and squeezed his arm in hers as they set off down the rose-surrounded path to her front door. She could spend half an hour chatting to her godson — then she could settle down with the ten-inch black one...

Five minutes later, they were sitting in opposite easy chairs, on either side of the fire in Caroline's comfortable sitting-room. William had opted for a can of beer, rather than a coffee, and Caroline had indulged herself with a gin and tonic. The beer had loosened the boy's tongue a little, and he was talking, animatedly, about his school and leisure activities — mainly sports.

Caroline listened, patiently, and gradually became aware that William was having a little difficulty in keeping his eyes away from her crossed legs. Her dress did not quite reach her knees and, every so often, William's eyes would stray from her attentive face, sliding downwards.

"Well, that's not bad!" Caroline thought — I can still get a roving eye from a teenager! Hmmm, I might have a different imaginary partner with me when I finally tuck up with my vibrator, tonight — someone a good deal younger than Oliver! She slowly uncrossed her legs, and re-crossed them. Covertly, she kept an eye on William, and was gratified to see the colour rise beneath his tan, as a length of her stocking-clad thigh was momentarily exposed.

She felt a little frisson of daring, and automatically glanced at the front of William's jeans. She chuckled inwardly to herself — well, what had she expected to see — the Eiffel Tower? Still, her godson's 'package' looked — fully-fledged? — he had quite a satisfactory bulge down there. He was nearly sixteen — he might have slipped a length up one or two of the local girls, by now — and yet, he seemed still so — innocent.

Caroline tried to remember how long it had been since she had had a really young guy's cock inside her, then pushed the thought from her mind. For God's sake, she was forty-seven years old and, even if she was in spectacularly good nick for her age, she couldn't compete with all the fresh young totty which was around these days. And, anyway, William was her godson — it was perverse even to think about it!

"So, you didn't meet anyone 'special' tonight, then, did you, William?" She almost took herself by surprise with her question — she certainly caught her guest off-guard, and his face flamed as he dropped his eyes, and mumbled — "No — 'fraid not."

"Have you ever had a 'steady' girlfriend?" Caroline persisted, now leaning forward, gazing at him, keenly.

"Not really," William replied, his embarrassment increasing. Caroline emptied her glass and refilled it, with the emphasis, now, on the gin. She was beginning, to her surprise, to feel her earlier feelings of arousal returning, and she shifted her position on the chair, crossing her legs again. She wondered if he had caught a glimpse of bare thigh — even her panties? Her mouth momentarily dried.

"It's so much easier for you youngsters these days, though," she said. "When I was your age, you weren't supposed to have sex until you were, at least, engaged. Nowadays, there are so few taboos, and the girls have unlimited access to the pill — well, it's just so free and easy."

"Well," William replied, his face still brick-red, as if he couldn't believe he was having this discussion with his 'posh', but still very sexy, godmother. "It's maybe not quite how you think it is — not round here, anyway."

"Hah!" Caroline couldn't help exclaiming. "You mean — in the country?"

"Yeah," answered William, a trifle bitterly. "Maybe, in the cities, the girls are prepared to — do that sort of thing — but it's different round here."

"Well, things have changed," said Caroline. "I wasn't brought up round here — but I am a country girl, and, even when I was young, I saw things going on..."

William's eyes were bright with curiosity, and he took the can Caroline pushed over to him, without comment, flicking the top open.

"Like what?" he asked, taking a long swallow. He, too, was now leaning forward in his chair, his keen interest only too evident. Caroline, too, was feeling unexpectedly aroused at the way the conversation had veered. She had an irresistible urge to take it further — to see if she could excite the shy young boy sitting opposite her — to see how he would react...

She thought back, her heart beating a little faster as she recalled 'that' day...

"Well," she said, "when I was fifteen, I spent all my spare time helping out at the local stables, doing all the mucky jobs, just for the chance to ride the horses. There were quite a lot of us, almost all girls, and, of course, we frequently saw the stallions 'cover' the mares, so, inevitably, we would talk about — well, what we were seeing, and how it felt for the mare, feeling that huge hard thing inside her."

Caroline glanced down again — there was no doubt that her words were striking a chord with her visitor. She could see a definite protrusion in William's jeans ... She was feeling moist herself, down there, as well, as she recalled the dry-mouthed excitement of watching the stallion's cock lengthen and harden, inexorably.

"One day," she carried on, her voice low and breathy, "I was helping the farrier shoe one of the young stallions in his box. There was a mare in the next stall, and — well, the stallion began to get — excited. You know what I mean, William?"

He nodded, vehemently, as if concerned that he might not know even this basic fact of life, but his eyes would not rise to meet hers. Caroline felt a little breathless, recalling that long-ago afternoon from her late teens. Her lips were dry, and she took another drink.

"The farrier had a bit of a 'reputation'. One or two of the girls sometimes came out looking a little dishevelled after working with him, and there were stories about how he would 'try things' with them when there were just the two of them in the stall — although he had never bothered me. This day, however, he caught me looking at the stallion and he said — 'He's got a bit of a hard-on, hasn't he?' Well, I was very embarrassed — I went to an all-girl school, and I hadn't had much to do with boys, or men, so I suppose I just blushed and looked at the ground."

"But the farrier laughed and said — 'You know what causes it, do you?' That made me even more embarrassed, and I sort of nodded and kept looking at the ground. I was holding the horse's foot for him to put the shoe on, and I was bent over towards him. Then he said — 'I've got one from looking down your shirt — at your tits!' I nearly died with embarrassment, but I also found it very exciting, hearing him talk about me, like that."

"'You've got a nice pair of tits, there, ' he said. 'Have you had your first shag, yet?' I didn't know what to say. My face was brick-red, and I didn't dare put the horse's foot down until he told me to, and I could feel his eyes looking down my front."

"I suppose, with the stallion being excited like that, the atmosphere in the stall was — well — very sexual, and I remember feeling very shaky, and not knowing what to do. Then the farrier put down his tools and slipped his hand down the front of my shirt. It went right inside one of the cups of my brassiere and he took hold of my bare breast."

"He said — 'Yes — you've got really nice tits, now, Caroline — I've been watching you for a while. I've wanted a feel of those.' His fingers were playing with my nipple, and it felt really hard, and sensitive. Then he took the horse's foot from my hand, and walked me back so that I was against the back wall of the stall. I was so — excited — I felt that I shouldn't let him be doing this — he was well over thirty, and married — but, well, I just couldn't think straight."

"He put his arms round me and kissed me on the mouth and, at the same time, started unbuttoning the heavy shirt I wore at the stables. I didn't put my arms round him, but I kissed him back, and I felt my buttons being undone. He opened my shirt and pushed it right back, over my shoulders and down my arms, but he couldn't get it off, because the cuffs were still buttoned. Then he put his hands up my back and I remember thinking how surprised I was that he unclipped my bra so easily — and then he just pushed it up and stood back, holding it up so that he could look at my bare breasts."

Caroline's hands were trembling and she gripped her glass, tightly. She raised her eyes. To her surprise, William was looking at her, and he held her gaze. His tongue slid out and ran round his lips.

"What happened, then?" His voice was low, almost a croak, and Caroline felt a surge of power, of excitement.

"Well, he played with my — tits — feeling them, and squeezing them, then he reached down and opened his trousers. I nearly stopped breathing, William — I had never seen a man's penis before. He pulled it out — it was very hard, and it was a strange purple colour, as if it was — angry. He took my hand, and put it on his penis. It was like nothing I had ever felt before — so hard, and hot, but still, sort of, yielding. It felt — wonderful — I felt as if I was taking advantage of him, not him of me."

"Then he said — 'We haven't got time for a fuck — it'd take too long for you to get those jodhpurs and boots off.' I'm sure he didn't realise I was still a virgin. But I knew what he meant, so I put my fingers round him — his cock — and started moving them up and down. I had never done anything like that before, but I must have done it right because he suddenly started breathing heavily and his hands really dug into my tits — and then he started to come, shooting all over the place..."

William Andrews was in a state of utter shock, compounded by a very strong sensation of sexual arousal. He had practically worshipped Caroline all his life. He had always thought of her as the most beautiful, sophisticated woman he knew, but, since reaching puberty and indulging in erotic fantasies about almost every woman he knew, he had tried, manfully, not to think of Caroline in 'that way'.

Quite apart from the fact that she had been a wonderful, caring godmother to him, he was nowhere near her equal in 'class', and, when he had become aware that she must have had sexual relations with some of the men with whom her name had been linked, he had always imagined these encounters as almost clinical, with Caroline in a silk nightdress, hair perfectly coiffured, in a pristine white bed with a man who treated her in a respectful, gentlemanly fashion.