Keywords: M/F anal, oral Author: W R Jenkins Title: Mrs. Miller Disclaimer:(standard) Do not screw up. Do not do anything illegal. This includes specifically (but not limited to) reading on if you are under 18- 21 in some localities If you are underage you must leave now. If you're young and curious, this is not the place to get the straight story. You act like this and people will look at you strange and give you a wide berth. Also, don't try this at home. Some of this stuff is just plain wrong, most of it is unsafe in the present viral climate and some of it doesn't work in this universe. They are stories. They deal with ideas, fantasies and thoughts that might not even be pleasant in real life. Thoughts are like that. Fantasies are there so we can toy with the sensations without feeling or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation. End Sermon. Mrs. Miller (Msmiller.txt) This is a true story. I know it is. Somewhere a kid has got to have been seduced by his friend's mother. There's a lot of people and they're all different and some must be just different enough for this to happen. m/F, oral, anal Tommy looked left and then right. He thought he heard a shuffling sound at the edge of the room. He didn't see anything. He wasn't apprehensive. He had an open invitation at the Millers and Dexter had said he wanted to study. It was normal for him to walk right in and sit down. Dexter hadn't been there to greet him but that was normal too. Dex had practice after school and Tommy had only wandered around a little while before going to his house. He shouldn't be long. It came to Tommy that Dex might be playing a joke. He wasn't big on the jumping out and going boo, but Tommy wouldn't put it past him. Tommy was deciding whether to pretend he was startled or to be cool when he was startled by something brushing his leg. The Millers didn't have a dog. At least they didn't have one yesterday. Tommy looked down and was startled again to see Mrs. Miller's face looking up from between his legs. She put a finger to her lips to shush him. This was bad. This was an emergency situation. Tommy liked Mrs. Miller. He liked her too much in the wrong kind of way. He couldn't help feeling that way any more than he could help his reaction to her face being so close to his crotch. Tommy was too scared to blush as Mrs. Miller made it plain she saw his cock growing in his pants. She not only stared at it, she reached up for his zipper. "Dexter asked me over to study," Tommy's voice broke as she reached into that embarrassing area, "He'll be here any minute." "Extra practice, He'll be at least an hour," she said in a husky voice Tommy had never heard. Tommy was frozen between fear and hope. Contradictory wishes tumbled over each other as his friend's mother pulled down his zipper. Dexter wouldn't like it. She wasn't doing what he thought. Things like this didn't happen. He wished it would. "What about Mr. Miller?" Tommy admitted his hope while voicing a reminder that he feared might dash it. "Be quiet, Tommy," she said as she reached in and her fingers touched his cock. The touch was enough to rob his ability to speak. He knew exactly what was going on while in total confusion about what was happening. He thought she was coy and teasing. She'd caught him looking, like that time she was in a bathing suit and her breast showed a healthy arc of side curve out the side of her top. He was staring at that slice of revealed flesh and she'd noticed. He thought she was laughing at him as she gave him a knowing smile. She wasn't offended, which made him happy, but he thought she was like all the other girls. They liked you to want it, but they weren't going to give it up, even if you did what they asked and got all whipped and everything. It seemed he had missed his guess. "Would you like me to kiss it, Tommy?" Mrs. Miller asked. His mouth was too dry to speak. His tongue wasn't cooperating. He just nodded. She didn't kiss it. He mouth came down over him and her lips didn't touch skin until his shaft was most of the way in her mouth. Then she moved up and down. She was blowing him. Tommy knew that right away. He'd never had a blow-job, never more than tit under bra from Stephanie Morgan. He'd heard other guys say how good it felt, but he hadn't been able to imagine that it could feel this good. "Oh, Mrs. Miller" he managed to moan before he felt the crisis coming on. He wanted to warn her. He didn't think she'd be prepared for him to pop off so quickly. He tried to open his mouth but all he could do was groan as he started shooting off in her mouth. That was bad. He knew girls didn't like it. Chuck and Lisa broke up over it. He didn't mean to. He couldn't help it. And while he was in his panic, Mrs. Miller kept sucking his cock, sucking even harder as the hot cum shot out into her mouth. "There, I thought that one might be quick," Mrs. Miller said before Tommy could blurt out his excuses and apology. "I didn't mean to..." Tommy started and she cut him off. "You did fine," she soothed, "Boys your age always have a hair trigger. You can't help it. That's why I wanted to get the first one out of the way." Tommy was distracted by how cool she was. She knew he couldn't help it. It was all right. Then the import of getting it out of the way crawled into his head. "I think you can last long enough to fuck me now," she said, "You do want to fuck me, don't you?" Of course he wanted to fuck her. He shouldn't. He wasn't clear on how to, but he wanted to. It was wrong. Bad things would follow. She didn't let him get far down that branch of thought. She pushed him back and Tommy scooted his chair away so she could emerge from under the table. He was slightly disappointed, or was it puzzled, that she was dressed. It was a momentary thought, replaced with anticipation as her hands went to the buttons of her blouse. He thought nothing, only watched with wonder and hunger as she stripped out of her clothes. She was down to her underwear in no time and Tommy stared in open-mouthed adoration as she undid her bra and he had the beatific vision of her breasts unfettered. Her bra dropped out of the way like a veil between a boy's life and a man's world. Smooth slopes of pale skin were jubilantly emphasized by a pair of dark honey areola, large, round and capped with a more crimson pair of nipples, already standing out. She smiled slightly and paused to let him take in her naked chest. Those nipples became part of the vision of heavy breasts slung like cantaloupes in slings on her chest. "Maybe you should take your pants down, at least," she said as she put her fingers in the waistband of her panties and eased them over her full hips. Tommy fumbled with his pants without taking his eyes off the fur covered mystery she was unveiling between her thighs. He couldn't tell much but that she ended just below where his dick started, but he knew that was a paradise he had dreamed about since his first pube. His cock was growing at the thought. Mrs. Miller noticed with an airy hmmm through her nose. "I knew you wouldn't be long..." she said without finishing and instead said, "Would you like to touch me?" He wanted to grab and maul. He wanted to stare and probe. He reached out tentatively and placed his hands flat on her breasts. She gave a sigh of encouragement as he felt the soft resilience form to his hands. He moved his hands around. He used a finger to touch her nipples. She took his hands and pushed them up under her breasts to make them jut out to him. "You can kiss them," she invited. While he did, Mrs. Miller took his hand and brought it between her legs. She guided him in stroking. She singled out one finger and pushed it between the lower lips into a startling wetness. Then she curled her finger and his went with hers into a damp heat. Tommy groaned into her full breast. Sensing the import of his agitation, Mrs. Miller withdrew their fingers and gently pushed him back. His cock was hard and throbbing. She feared much more stimulation and Tommy would last no longer than the first time. "Now are you ready to fuck Dexter's mom?" she asked. That had the calculated effect of bringing him back from the edge. Tommy was reminded of the enormity of what was happening. Oh yes, it was pussy, real live naked lady pussy and he was about to have the dream come true, but it was so wrong. Not that he could or wanted to stop, but it was Mrs. Miller. His lust for her was from a deep secret place that he couldn't share, particularly with Dexter. He was going to give in to that dark place, but he was aware of his trespass. Then she sat on the table and opened her legs and he stopped thinking. There was that mysterious pink thing he'd seen in pictures, only this was real. He could put his dick right into it and Mrs. Miller wanted him to do just that. Then he'd be fucking. "Yes, Tommy, fuck me," Mrs. Miller said as if reading his mind. Watching his cock sink in was nothing compared to the feeling of his first time. It was a lot like the warm wet feeling that had surrounded his finger, but so different when it was wrapped around his cock. Mrs. Miller took his face in her hands and turned it up as she pulled him to her. "Now in and out. You know what to do," Mrs. Miller said as he looked into her face. Yes! In! and out, in! and out, her eyes got hazy as he fucked the first time. Tommy wasn't aware of the stunned bliss on his face as he moved his cock in a real woman for the first time. Mrs. Miller was soaking that vision up in lieu of a more expert cock invading her. It was beautiful in such a sick way that she felt a chill like Tommy's flush of discovery. "Harder, Tommy. Fuck me as hard as you want," she urged. She meant faster, but harder meant faster too. As Tommy moved his hips with more urgency, she pulled his hand to her breast and held it there. Tommy followed his urge. The time of discovery was past. There was a need in him that slapping loudly against his friend's mother was the only relief. Tommy thrust with all the energy he could muster, fucking, fucking, fucking, fucking as much as he could. He seemed to slip a notch. There was something that told him he was past a point and on to a new level of sex. His thrusts became the hard in! again with the slightest drop in speed. The wisdom of age had prevailed to bring this added stamina, however short the extension, to his first experience. Tommy could feel his balls tug tight, but with time to know it before it was over. If she was sucking me I could warn her, he thought extraneously as he fucked her harder. "I'm cumming!" he announced with the next breath and the announcement was like the breaking of the dam. Her hands were on him, urging him to keep thrusting. It felt like the spurts went on and on. Her legs came up to hold him as he slowed. "Push all the way and stay there," she said breathily. "Just leave it in me a while, I like the way it feels," she told him. It was going to feel like doing it again pretty soon, Tommy thought. No way that fucking wasn't the best thing in the whole world, but it was too hectic to feel the gentler, warm part of having his cock in a pussy. Oh, it was nasty, his cock felt like it was where it shouldn't be, but it was so oddly adventurous to feel that different kind of tissue all around him and know all girls had that right up inside them. And knowing he was right up inside Mrs. Miller made him shiver with victory and shame at the same time. "Pretend fuck," Mrs. Miller instructed, "Don't really move, but kind of push against me like you were." There were squishy things on both sides as he pressed his groin against her. It was time to discover the outside part of what he had been overwhelmed discovering the inside. Yes, he was pushing his cock part against her pussy part. It was like another part. It was the outside, Tommy fucking Mrs. Miller that he was appreciating now. He could see how that was as big a part and maybe, some day, he might be able to think about that at the same time his cock was being driven wild by the inside part of going in and out. "Keep going," Mrs. Miller urged, "Touch me." He didn't need her guidance to run his hands up her torso to the side-sling piles of breast on her chest. He knew what he wanted and he knew she liked it too. He was more adventurous. He tested her breasts, felt how it felt to squeeze them, how they moved under his hands. His hips had fallen quiet, but Mrs. Miller didn't complain. She could feel the effect twitching inside her. "Oh my god, you stud!" she poured it on to help him fulfill her prophecy, "I can feel you getting hard again. Are you going to fuck me some more?" Tommy's immediate reaction was to ask if it was okay, but his urge and, later, sense stopped him. Her legs were still wrapped around him, preventing him doing anything else. Her hands were pulling on him. It was clear it was what she wanted. He hadn't been exactly aware what was going on in her. His cock popped up all the time and he was used to it. But he moved and found he had indeed come back to life inside her exciting confines. He was going to fuck again and this time he was going to think about the outside and it being Mrs. Miller too. "I'm fucking you, Mrs. Miller," he explained unnecessarily. "You're the first one ever." "Yes, Tommy, you're fucking me, and the second time," she said, thinking he wanted to hear the words. He did in a way. It helped him keep his focus on the outside part for a little while. Perhaps the brevity was fortunate because Tommy was just remembering Dexter when the marvel of fucking took him over again. He forgot the bad part of the situation as his cock stole his attention with its pleasure at drilling into Mrs. Miller. It wasn't just good. It was slick and alive and his cock going in and out made nasty sounds that made him want to fuck more. Tommy was finding there were many things about fucking and they all were good. He could even make them change a little by the way he pushed his cock in and out. It was just as good to hesitate sometimes instead of just in and out. He could wiggle some. "Oh yes, Tommy, you're doing it great!" Mrs. Miller enthused. She added a wiggle of her hips when Tommy explored his discoveries. There were so many different things. Tommy knew he could never get tired of fucking with so many good things to do. But he was going to cum- pretty soon, not right now. Tommy found it strange to know with such notice. He might learn how to use that, he thought, but this time he was going to do what he knew. It was time. The other stuff was good, but he trusted the hard, fast in-out. He drove into Mrs. Miller. "I can feel I'm going to cum," he announced his discovery, "I'm going to fuck you now." "Fuck me Tommy," she gave her permission, "Fuck me the way you like. Fuck me deep and cum for me." Tommy had the transient impression that Mrs. Miller was enjoying it too. It was lost in his need to plunge in and out and he didn't go on to suppose that it might be nice for her. He was busy getting laid and he'd think about everything, anything else when his primary need was met deep inside his friend's mother. What he'd called a notch, he felt again. Dimly, he knew that the first one had been when he knew he was going to cum. This one passed and he knew it was when he came before. There was more every time. He threw his hands to her breasts, which he had been neglecting, and grabbed them as he pounded on into her. "Yes, Tommy, fuck! Fuck! Keep going no matter what! Fuck me!" Mrs. Miller was almost begging. Tommy didn't let the strange demand distract him. He let it into his mind unnoticed as he pounded to a new level of lust. What had been his balls contracting and spewing, he was feeling in his spine. He was building to something bigger. "Don't stop! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Mrs. Miller gasped as Tommy felt his very hips throw him into her. He was exploding- all over. It wasn't just his cock spewing out the ecstasy of a white stream. He could feel that burst as an endpoint of a spasm that ran down his spine and jerked his hips into her. It had taken over. He was along for the ride as his hips hammered into her and his cock shot out spurt after spurt of cum into her. She kept encouraging and Tommy's hips answered as if they were in her control. The spurts had subsided but it was as if the momentum of this fuck was still carrying his hips into a relentless in-out and slapping him against Mrs. Miller. "Mmmmmm," Mrs. Miller purred, coiling around him with a sinuous grip that made his hips stop. "That was the best ever!" Tommy said finally. "Does it get better every time like that?" Mrs. Miller smiled at him. "It was better for me every time too," she avoided the answer. Then the world rushed back at Tommy. He was standing by the table where he studied with Dexter with his dick in Dexter's mom. Yes, it was real. Mrs. Miller was all the way naked laying on the table and he had his dick in her. He'd fucked her. He just gotten laid and it was by Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Miller whose tits were right there where he could look at them and whose lady parts were right around his dick. "Mrs. Miller!" Tommy let out a belated gasp, "I... Uhh... Why?" "Didn't you like it, Tommy?" she asked. "Oh jeeze yeah," he said immediately, "But... Uhh... I never thought you'd... I didn't know you liked me so much." "You're a sweet boy, Tommy," she said. "Why don't we get dressed now and I'll explain it another time." It was weird the rest of the night, obviously, but Mrs. Miller had Tommy doubly confused. She almost wasn't pretending nothing happened, except when Dexter was looking. She smiled wickedly at him behind Dex's back and made knowing nods when Dexter couldn't see. Tommy didn't know how to handle that. He was better just pretending everything was normal and he was doing a bad enough job of that. Dexter had to prod him back on subject several times, but Tommy didn't think he was suspicious. Even if it was weird, thinking that Tommy had fucked his mom wasn't likely to be Dexter's first guess about what was distracting his friend. Maybe wanting to fuck his mom, but Dex was being too normal for him to have guessed even that. At home Tommy began to realize lots of things. He knew he just got laid, but it only changed things for him personally. He couldn't tell anyone. Not Dexter and Dexter was the first one he'd tell if it hadn't been Dexter's mother that fucked him. He couldn't brag, he couldn't even admit he was a man now. That wasn't so awful. He'd just act like nothing happened like he did with Dexter. On the other hand, this secret he had was the best ever. He'd put his dick in Mrs. Miller. She'd even sucked it for him. Even if he couldn't tell, it was the kind of secret that was somehow better for being between him and Mrs. Miller. He didn't have to envy someone that got stinkfinger from Stephanie or even got laid. He didn't even have to tell because his secret was that good. Tommy felt he would be secure and calm in the face of other's exploits with this secret. "You know this is one of Dexter's late nights, don't you?" Mrs. Miller asked when she greeted him at the door. "You said you'd explain..." Tommy stumbled. "Some other time." "Is that all?" she asked, "You weren't hoping it might happen again, were you?" "I would, but if you just explain that's all right," Tommy said. He wasn't sure what he wanted. His feet had carried him to the Miller's door sort of on their own. He was confused why she had done what she had done. He was also very glad. He re-lived the half hour or so of bliss over and over since then, but he really hadn't been thinking she might do it again, at least not consciously. It was like she talked in his head when he remembered. In his head she talked like a porn star with a dirty mouth. He didn't think she was going to really do that, but that was the way she was when he remembered that afternoon. "Come in and we'll see," she said with a twinkle in her eye that Tommy missed because he was staring at his shoes. "You're a good-looking young man," Mrs. Miller started when he was seated on the couch. "Don't you think a woman could be interested in you?" This wasn't helping. He didn't think he was good-looking. It was the kind of thing old women said and he didn't know why. None of the girls in school were impressed with how good-looking he was. It wasn't telling him why Mrs. Miller had... done what she did. "Well I am," she said, seeing his resistance, "I think you're very nice and you will find out that matters very much to grown-up women." Great. If he had more friends, he could have mothers all over him. At second thought, that wasn't so bad, but it didn't satisfy Tommy's original question. "But this stuff never happens in real life," Tommy protested. "I don't know how it happened to me." "It does happen in real life because it happened to you. Or are you asking for a reminder?" Mrs. Miller responded. She kept saying that. Like he was here for more. Then it occurred to him that she said it that way so he'd say yes. That was some strange stuff. Tommy wasn't ready to deal with it yet. "It was great. I really liked it. It was like a dream, but after... Then I couldn't figure it out," Tommy said. "So why try?" Mrs. Miller asked. "It happened. Can't you leave it at that?" Mrs. Miller had been willing to say she was lonely and needed it as much as Tommy, but he was being so dull and dogged that she didn't. He was frustrating her by obstinately refusing to ask to do it again. Tommy realized something as he said it. It had been great. He wondered why he wasn't asking to do it again. All she could do was say no or laugh or something. He suspected that was why she was talking that way. But, so what? "Would you do it again?" he asked finally. "So that's what you came for," Mrs. Miller was satisfied. He came for answers. But Tommy could tell that wasn't what she wanted to hear. It was more confusing. She might really do it again. It might not be a set-up. It would leave him even more mystified, but he knew he wanted to. "I didn't think you would, but I'd like to," Tommy said. "Then this time I want you to take off all your clothes," she told him. "You saw me naked. I want to see you naked." This had an unfortunately familiar ring. It was reasonable, but history told him it didn't go well. Still, there was nothing left to do but leave or do as she said. He got up and undressed. "And you wonder why?" she said, "Look at you." She was doing that. Tommy sure didn't know what she was seeing. He was a skinny kid with red, rough knees and his boner poking up like a white wiener. He didn't have a big, hairy chest or muscles or anything. It was just him, naked. No one else was impressed. He was beginning to get uneasy when Mrs. Miller undressed too. She did it slower this time and Tommy found himself watching every bit of her with more attention as a little bit of stomach, a whole lot of thigh and other skin was revealed. "Would you like to do the rest?" she asked when she was in her bra and panties. "Take them off slowly, like I did." He thought it was going to be another torture course like with Stephanie, which was why he had to settle for tit under bra in the first place, but Mrs. Miller turned around when he stepped forward and let him see what he was doing. It was easy that way. She didn't let him pull it right off. She turned back around with one hand holding the middle in place and brought his hand up to her breast. He touched it under her bra and the strap slid down. It was making sense. He peeled the cloth away and stroked her breast and then reached for the other. It was like peeling fruit slowly to build your appetite. "Kiss me while you pull them down," she said, putting her hand on his head and easing him to his knees in front of her. All right, he thought, slowly. Kiss, kiss, kiss and peel her bit by bit. There were no confusing thoughts at all. He was intent on the curve of belly knowing where it led. He was going to get a close look at a girl's biggest mystery. He felt almost dizzy with the perfume that reached his nose even as he uncovered the first curly hairs of the fur patch he'd observed from afar. He'd have said primal if he used that word, but he did know it was making him feel nervous and excited. He kissed the hair dryly, hoping for a clearer place to plant his lips. "Do you want to kiss it?" she asked when the panties had cleared her mount. She tipped her hips obligingly and Tommy stared into the mouth of her sex. It was glistening, pink and strongly fragrant. Hesitant, but feeling obliged Tommy leaned forward and pressed his lips against it. The sensation made him jerk. It was warmer and softer than he had guessed. Something in him told him that it wanted to pull him in. "Give it a real kiss, Tommy," Mrs. Miller encouraged him, "A deep kiss. A French kiss." Well, he was there. He'd put his dick in it and it wasn't dangerous. And he kind of had to after what Mrs. Miller had done for him. It wasn't so bad to press his lips to it now he knew how it felt. Opening his mouth to stick in his tongue was awkward and he found it worked better when he turned his head so it fit him more like a mouth. "Oh yes, Tommy!" Mrs. Miller was more than encouraging as he let his tongue push in and explore. "Kiss it like a mouth. Really make out with it." He was barely conscious of pulling her panties out of the way and sliding his hands up to her rear to hold on. He knew what she wanted. He knew about really making out. It was strange to have no tongue touching back, but he shoved his tongue in, curled it around and flicked it from side to side with all the aggression of the need that grows in the back seat of a car. He was attacking her pussy and she wasn't fighting back. It was better than making out, Tommy dimly considered. He could feel the urge building, but he knew it wouldn't be frustrated. Mrs. Miller did it. All the desire he felt rising would be satisfied right in the same pussy he was drilling with his tongue. "Now where? How?" Mrs. Miller asked, breathing heavily. She saw his confused look as she dragged him to his feet and knew she was asking the wrong person. She wanted him to have it all, but it was premature to expect him to know what to ask for. She was the leader. That was part of the thrill. "Never mind, I'll show you," she said. She pulled him by the hand to the couch and lay back on it. She opened her legs in invitation. Thankfully, Tommy needed no more prompting. He climbed over her and then looked down hopelessly as he tried to figure out how to support himself and reach down to guide his cock into her. "I'll do it, just push," she said as she took his cock in her hand and brought it to her slit. "You can lay on me," she said after he was inserted, "Hug me. It will be good like that." It was better than good, it was his highest aspiration. He could feel her breasts crushed against his chest and her skin all warm along his right to where her pussy hugged him back wetly. He couldn't forget the warm slippery folds wrapped around his cock, but he was still aware of Mrs. Miller so soft and sexy under him. It was like he had dreamed. He was fucking and was feeling the inside and the out all at the same time. It was all good and if he felt less gripped by his need to thrust and cum, it meant he was going to have the good feelings longer. Slowing Tommy down had been at the heart of Mrs. Miller's suggestion. Inspired by his unreserved tongue thrusting, she had at first lost her head. She felt like a teen in urgent need of cock, but she calmed in the realization that most of the charm of seducing Tommy was in guiding him. She chose the missionary position partly to introduce the basics, but as Tommy had loomed over her like an athlete doing push-ups, she had realized she could pull him into her grasp and in some way guide him to a less frenzied coupling. Her legs folded over his as he pushed into her to further shape his exertions into a snake-like grinding rather than rapid fire thrusting. It was ALL Mrs. Miller, Tommy had an inspiration. She was holding him, touching him, squeezing him. She was everywhere against his skin making the surge of his cock just another part of their connection. It was still the main part, but it was a part of the grand feelings like her pussy was a part of her. It wasn't a struggle that inspired coherent observations. It was enough that Tommy felt filled with the feeling of their bodies striving for each other's pleasure in pursuit of their own. It was a grand concept, however it came to him. "Now Tommy! Fuck me! Fuck me good!" she called urgently. He heard the urgency and didn't question if he'd been fucking bad. She loosened her grip on his shoulders to give him leverage and her legs began to pull with him rather than impede. She wasn't cresting with passion, but she was at the next best point. His youthful exertions and lack of stamina weren't going to be enough. But she was feeling her transgression and it would provide a climax of a sort. "Ohhh, Mrs. Miller," Tommy joined her gasping, "This is so good. It's so good!" He could say it was his whole body lifting him to ecstasy, but mostly it was his dick. This varied slightly and interestingly from it being his balls. It wasn't the drive to pump, to squirt, and thus the need to stimulate his cock. He was cock-centric at the moment, and the urge was all in the head of his cock to find what limit he could in the clasp of Mrs. Miller's pussy. His goal was still the stream of cum, but it seemed this time it would be summoned from the head of his cock rather than pushed up from the rear. It was good. It also felt like he had done something to Mrs. Miller. He didn't have a clue about making her cum or anything like that. It was the shift between active and passive. He felt like she had made him cum the last time. This time he had the sense that he'd had something to do with it as well. "Should I leave it in you?" Tommy asked. "Yes, Tommy, always leave it in me for a while," she said. "But we might not wait for it to come up again this time." It had been pleasant for her. She had a feeling, perhaps predatory, when he had been humping furiously. It pleased her to see him so excited to fuck her. And there was that evil part about drawing the youth out of the boy. She wasn't going to hope for a miracle this time. He might bring her close, oh so close, if she let his cock stiffen inside her and he fucked her again, but odds were she wouldn't cum. Anyway, she hadn't sucked his dick yet and that fed her evil lust too. Of course there were lots of games to play. She might quite like his consternation and inevitable acquiescence to her lead, but there was also later for that. It might be better to save the advance course for another time. "Oh, I forgot to ask," she said, because she knew the answer, "Are you going to stay for more?" "If you don't mind," Tommy said looking at her with love in his eyes, "This is better than anything, ever." "Then would you like me to kiss it?" she asked, knowing that answer too. It was as debauched as anything she could think of. It struck her more fully with Tommy peeled white and naked. There was nothing in Rome, Greece or Babylon that was more deliciously perverse than her seduction of this boy. And he looked on her with such reverent awe as she rent the taboos. She made him stand up to better look on his smooth young body and crouched subserviently at his feet to feel more like a slut. She didn't want him to clean his cock. She wanted his cock to be covered in the cum and juices of their illicit coupling. She wanted it to be all as wrong as it could be. Tommy sensed something in her demeanor but lacked the sophistication to identify it. To him it seemed Mrs. Miller was acting like the foul-mouthed porn star in his head when he remembered the first time. He thought it was his fault and all in his mind. But such matters couldn't find room in his head when her mouth closed on his cock. It was all all the way in her mouth. She had her lips pressed around the base and her tongue tickled his cock. Tommy didn't know how to act. There was something so much better than his favorite word good about the feeling. His dick, all his dick, his whole dick, was in her mouth and that was like the knowing the inside and the outside when you fucked. His dick was very happy, but there was something else, a feeling of filling her up, owning her that made a warm feeling in his chest. He would say he felt almost in charge, but he still knew he wasn't. She sucked him like he was hard, pretending that her lips weren't pulling him out like a robin with a worm and then sucking him back in like spaghetti when she moved back down. It felt like she was sucking the blood back into her cock. He couldn't stand still when she took his cock in her hand and applied herself to the head. There were teasing licks outside her mouth that were more like mauling pressure when her lips closed behind the head. She sucked hard, almost painfully hard on the head and then pulled off with a loud pop that made him want the sucking again. Tommy was amazed. He knew the sex thing was a mystery but he had not dreamed there were so many secret things that people could do to each other. The stories he had heard were like the first time, mouth on cock, move up and down. He didn't think anyone else he knew guessed there were such variations. He began to understand it didn't matter why Mrs. Miller wanted to do these things. It was more than he had a right to ask that she wanted to. He should be grateful and shut up. Mrs. Miller barely got to licking his balls before Tommy was hard, erect and dangerously vibrating. He might have done a good job restraining himself the first time, but she didn't trust his control. A boy's stamina extended to any number of hair-trigger explosions and she didn't want to put her faith in the fact he'd cum once already. "Is there anything that you've heard of or anything that you'd like to try?" Mrs. Miller gave him an option. His lore was mostly facts. Jenny gave hand-jobs. Steve fingered Heather in the gym. Lisa gave Chuck blow-jobs until he came in her mouth. There wasn't a lot of technique discussed. And porn, well he was usually just jerking off to the fact they were doing it without much reference to how. "I know a couple of positions," Tommy said weakly. He was so innocent, so tasty. She could see he felt cornered by her suggestion he choose. He was such a blank slate. She could have her way with him in so many senses. "Then maybe we could do it one of my favorites, with me on my knees and you behind me," she suggested because she didn't want to exert herself by being on top. Tommy saw that all the time, at least it seemed it was in every scene on the DVD he snagged. They called it doggy sometimes. He didn't care. It was all fucking to him- at least until Mrs. Miller showed him more of the secrets he didn't know. It was a perfect couch position since there was plenty of padding and she could support herself on her forearms without being bent too far over. It would be more comfortable to give Tommy the inevitable guidance and encouragement in that position. She settled over the arm of the couch and wiggled her ass invitingly. It was almost too much. His growing familiarity with female anatomy let Tommy see the whole picture rather than narrow his focus to the slit peach protruding back between Mrs. Miller's thighs. He saw a mature woman's ass with the unavoidable awareness that it was his friend's mother. But almost wasn't good enough to stop him. Maybe he was a rat, but it wasn't like he was forcing her. He wanted to fuck her too much to worry about it now. He got behind her quickly with the thought that putting his cock in her would drive away his doubts. "Oh Mrs. Miller, this is so good," he moaned to drive off the guilt as he entered her . It worked in one way. His awareness he was fucking his friend's mother was undimmed, but he no longer worried about right and wrong. He was taken by an awe like that he felt the first time she opened her legs in invitation. From his vantage point above her he could look down and see exactly what he was doing. He was fucking! He was fucking Mrs. Miller! He was fucking a real grown up adult lady because she wanted him to. It was another step in what he called the inside and the outside but Tommy was too wrapped up in the revelation to catalogue it. He had been too confused and nervous to feel it before. She scared him. Now he was feeling the magnitude of his good fortune at the same time he was feeling his dick squish in and out of hot pussy. Sex was a major thing, but he'd done it what? three times now? Not that it would ever not be the best thing in the world, but it was the best thing in the world with the best partner ever. No one, surely, could be more exciting than Mrs. Miller. Fucking Mrs. Miller. I'm fucking Mrs. Miller. It was a litany with every thrust into her upturned backside. It made him want to fuck her more, fuck her faster. It made him want to fuck her forever without ever stopping. For all the eagerness and growing aggression he felt, Tommy was surprising Mrs. Miller with his restraint. What felt like abandon to Tommy was determined yet measured thrusts. It almost felt like control. "That's it, fuck me just like that," she encouraged. "Keep doing it. It's so good." She didn't dare hope for a miracle. She contented herself with the thought that Tommy might make her cum with less practice than she thought. She let the driving cock excite her and her happiness that she had dared seduce the boy warm her. Tommy wasn't keeping track. His 'notches' were a subtle feeling and lost in the greater concept of fucking Mrs. Miller. He just knew the feeling filled him and had no sense of growing passion. He thrust his cock into the wet heaven under Mrs. Miller's ass and let that feeling take him. It came as a surprise when his climax jerked him against her rear particularly hard and he responded with the short, deep thrusts automatically. He hadn't even felt it coming, but he was sure aware of cumming. For those moments Mrs. Miller was gone and everything was his cock in the warm dark, jerking and thrusting as the white stuff shot out of the end. It was squishy wet rubbing as he humped furiously but with less motion than it seemed and was wracked by the spasms. Mrs. Miller blinked back in right away, before he could follow his natural impulse to pull his dick out of her. He stopped the retreat and pressed against her ample rear to keep his dick in her the way she liked. "It does keep getting better every time," he told her. Too out of breath to answer immediately, Mrs. Miller substituted a gentle sway of her hips. Despite her resolve, Tommy's energetic cock had teased her with climax. She wasn't sure if she had given in to hope or if she had no choice. It was clear that an orgasm with Tommy was not very far away. "But how many more times can we do this?" she teased them both with the threat of ending it, "I should have never started it. It's wrong, you know." "It's not wrong," Tommy protested, knowing it was a lie, "It's been so great. You don't know how much it means to me." It wasn't quite the thrill of devilry she hoped, but she found another motherly thrill in Tommy's protestations of devotion. The thought of ending it tweaked her own protest as much as Tommy's. But neither of them would feel so on edge without fearing every time could be the last. "We'll have to talk about that later," she said with another excuse for Tommy to visit, "Dexter will be home soon and we should be dressed at least." Tommy was understanding talk about it later. It meant maybe, probably, Mrs. Miller would let him fuck her again. After consideration he had worked out that she had been willing when he showed up for answers. He still didn't have answers, but he found he didn't need them if Mrs. Miller was going to keep letting him fuck her. Why she wanted to wasn't important as long as she did. Fucking her was better than anything. If he could do that, he didn't care why. It wasn't hard keeping it from Dexter. Tommy found he had no impulse to tell his friend he was fucking his mother. It was like two different worlds anyway. There was the normal world where he was a boy and Dexter was his friend that he lived in most of the time and the world where he and Mrs. Miller were naked and fucked. It was still so unreal that it didn't affect Tommy. It was like a dream he had and easy to keep to himself. Except when he went over to Dex's to study. Then there were little reminders- like the table where he'd had sex for the first time- that popped up and threatened to remind him the dream was real. Mrs. Miller didn't help either, although she didn't do it too much. But from time to time, with an evil smile, she might do something behind Dexter's back that made Tommy gulp, like squeeze her tit or reach down to rub her pussy so he could see. The only real change was Tommy wishing Dex would join more clubs or go out for a sport. He wanted more time to visit Dexter's house when Dexter wasn't at home. "All right Tommy," Mrs. Miller said when she found him at the door, "I've decided I can't stop even if it's wrong. Come in quick and go upstairs." Tommy was confused but hustled past her and to the stairs. He had several, he thought, good reasons that their passion should continue and was thrown off by her bypassing his carefully rehearsed dialogue. Finding his foot on the bottom stair replaced that feeling with a sense of passing another barrier. Mrs. Miller watched him scamper up the stairs as she closed the door. It was to be, she hoped, the big night for them. Tommy had taken to sex with less trepidation and more eager willingness than she had guessed. He might be ready for the next step. "The room on the right," she called as she followed Tommy up the stairs. "Get undressed." It was THE bedroom. There were a man's pants over a chair, bottles, jars and tubes of his and hers products on the dresser and the bed right in the middle. He was going to fuck Mrs. Miller right on the bed where she slept with Dexter's dad. It was suddenly a broader issue than fucking Dexter's mom. Tommy was still taking in the implications when Mrs. Miller came in and started stripping. "Come on, hurry up," she urged, "I want us to take our time this time." It was a larger world than simply learning to appreciate having sex with Mrs. Miller and not be lost in the feel of cunt around his cock. There were other things outside him and Mrs. Miller that fucking her affected. It was a big concept, but Tommy's hard-on pushed it aside. He'd fucked her hadn't he? It wasn't different now except they'd have more room on the bed. And didn't her words smack of something even more interesting than the last completely interesting encounters? Tommy tried to make up for lost time but he couldn't catch up. Mrs. Miller had omitted underwear in anticipation of his visit and she was naked almost as he began on the buttons of his shirt. She waited a moment, until he had shed the shirt, and then glided out sprawl across the covers. She turned to watch him, finger at the corner of her mouth, the other hand behind her head, presenting pendulous mother breasts with their nipples still small circles in the broader beige pad of areola. Her left leg straight, the right bent at the knee, Tommy could see her labia among the stray wisps of pubic hair looking like they were pouting lips pressed together. Appreciating his gaze as he paused to tug off his sneakers to free his pants, Mrs. Miller let her right leg loll to the side. The pout was replaced with a slight gap, as if in anticipation or desire. Finally free of his clothes, Tommy approached her carefully, led by his erection. She removed his confusion where to go by patting the covers at her side. Tommy climbed in bed next to her. If this boy, this victim of her perverted seduction, was to be her lover, he would have to understand. She offered no instruction, only placed his hand on her breast to turn him to her. He kneaded the breast gently. She had wonderful breasts. It was arousing to touch them, but they were more than that. It wasn't a quick fix to a hot thrust and then fucking. It was pleasing to feel the way her body responded, the way her nipples filled and darkened with the passion. He saw her lips part and divined why she wanted more time. He leaned in to kiss her. He moved his leg between hers and felt his hard-on slide along her thigh. She wanted the whole thing. She wanted to make love, he thought as their tongues collided and sparred. He hoped he was up to it. "Yes Tommy, you do understand," she said breathily in a break from their kiss. He kissed her briefly again and then moved down to suckle the nipple he had aroused. She sighed encouragingly as he buffeted the erect bud with his tongue. The other was already as erect as its twin when his mouth found it. "Go on," she breathed with a slight downward pressure. Trying to pretend an air he did not possess, Tommy attempted to make his slide down her body a smooth progression, but was defeated by his need to reposition in a jerky series that left him kissing her belly and then a jump to cradling his face in her crotch. He knew what she wanted. It was easier this time to push his tongue into her without adjusting. He knew what she wanted to feel and didn't need to make himself understand. Her knees came up to give him better access and her breathing was heavy. "Around the outside too," she said almost pleadingly, "Use your tongue all over." Her hips moved. Tommy smashed his face to the wet slit and pushed his tongue as deep as he could. He moved it like a kiss and her hips seemed to keep time. "Lick up. Lick up and down and the top," she was gasping in between fevered pants. Tommy needed no more instruction when he complied. Her violent reactions and moans prompted him to bedevil the hood and the shining pearl within with his tongue. "Now Tommy, now! Put it in me!" she sounded desperate. He slid right up and slid right in. He was pleased to the point of pride by how well he managed. He was going to fuck now but he found his option taken from him. Mrs. Miller was no longer the gently prodding orifice for him to fuck. Her hips were active and he found himself moving to stay in place rather than being the active role. There was something else as well. It was hotter inside her and felt more alive. He was not rubbing against slippery encasing tissue, it was churning and rubbing back as their meshing movements drove his cock in and out. "Now Tommy! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she called out as if asking for aid. He had barely processed the retort in his mind that he was doing his best, but that she was making it difficult to keep up when her hips stilled to a random jerk up or down. It seemed like an emergency. There was the desperation of her bidding and now the almost seizure-like trembling of her body. And her remedy was for him to fuck her. Tommy threw himself into thrusting with the energy of saving her. Oh yes! What went on before, her mauling him in the crush of her sex, had been wonderful and exciting and sexy, but this was fucking. His cock seemed harder, straighter as he drove it into her with the lunges of his hips. He was the fucker, cock almighty and he could feel his passion grow in a way that was opposite to the somehow passive waiting of before. "Yes, Tommy, fuck! Fuck! Keep going no matter what! Fuck me!" she cried out in imminent accomplishment of the silly dream she had the first time she urged Tommy with those words. He looked in her eyes and was chilled by the things he saw there. Yet it was also a challenge and a devious need to stab his cock into her to overcome her intensity and, yes, to increase the pain he saw pinching the corners of her eyes. It was nearly beyond his control anyway. His cock drove into her and he slapped on the opened groin with the need boiling in him. His cock wanted release and he was its agent as he took her deep and rapidly. He was cumming and it was going to again be better than ever. "Don't stop! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she implored as he slammed into her and hesitated with the first surge of climax. He responded like a robot, since he was already only along for the ride. His hips responded to her urging and overrode his instinct to push deep and squirm as spurts of cum jetted into her. He fucked, feeling almost more than he could stand as his exploding cock was dragged in and out with a stimulation almost too much to bear. "Oh God, Tommy, Oh God!" Mrs. Miller exploded. He was clasped in an imprisoning grip of his body, of his cock as Mrs. Miller pulled him to her and her legs wrapped around his. He had the solace of being jammed deep within her, trapped deep within her but not in the solitary sense of spattering her with sperm while deeply encased. She still writhed, they writhed locked together, and his cock was not left to sputter its remnants. He could feel it contract. Her cunt was demanding more from the well that was dry. She was so hot against him. He noticed that before noticing that his cock was still feeling a gentler but still novel massage where it drooped inside her. "Keep it in, okay?" she asked between long breaths. Her arms and legs had relaxed but he still lay heavily on her and her legs still held him in place. He pushed harder with his hips. This time it was a challenge to appease her. Whatever she had done to him, whatever her cunt had done to him, had left him limp and remaining inside her was a challenge, particularly since it felt like her insides were trying to eject him like a deep breath. "What did we do?" Tommy asked after a space. His cock had fallen out of her despite his effort and he had rolled off to lay bedside her. He was looking at the ceiling trying to categorize the differences between this time and all others. "We made love, Tommy," she said, and added before he could snort at the obvious, "It wasn't just fucking this time. We did the real thing from start to finish, not just the dirty part." "Is that why you..." Tommy began his question unsure what it was, "Did those things at the end?" She laughed. Tommy couldn't be mad after what they'd done, but it still made him frown. "What things?" she prompted his ignorance. "Well..." Tommy thought back, "Grabbed me and then, you know, did that stuff with your, you know, down there." "You mean kind of went crazy?" she asked. He nodded, not wanting to commit himself to further explanation of things he didn't understand. "That was because it gets better for me every time too. And this was the best," she said. That was a mixed blessing to Tommy. Clearly there was a big difference between good before and better this time. That he had been a part, even the cause of her actions was great, but it cast a question about all the other times. "And it wasn't so good before?" he asked hesitantly. She laughed again, but quickly got control and shook a finger in his face. "Now don't you get like all the other men," she scolded. "You guys never understand that it can be good even when its okay. I enjoyed every time with you, Tommy. And it's not your fault that you weren't the expert lover the first time. No one is. But it was fun and I enjoyed it. You did, didn't you?" That was an easy question. Tommy nodded definitively. It brought up another question. "Then why all of a sudden was it so good?" he asked. "Was it being in bed?" Mrs. Miller threatened to laugh again, but it was no laughing matter. What Tommy was asking was almost too private to share even with the one that was there. And then there'd be more questions. "It wasn't the bed or we'd have started in bed," she said, warming up to her reveal. "The difference was that this time I came." "You mean like when the stuff shoots out of my dick?" Tommy needed a definition of terms. "Yes, but for a woman it's different," she explained. "That's where men get confused. If they don't cum, it isn't finished. Its like interrupted and that's bad. For a woman it's still pleasurable but without the big bang." "And you did it this time? The bang thing?" Tommy was wonderstruck. "You made me, helped me do it," she revised. "And it's more fun when you do it together, don't you agree?" Tommy wasn't sure if she meant have the bang together or better than whacking off, but both were true and he agreed. "Then I want to do that for you every time," Tommy proclaimed. He was sweet. And it wasn't like she couldn't use his intention to make it better, but she didn't need him to feel the pressure. "So do I, Tommy, but don't be so serious about it," she said, "It isn't a disaster if you don't. And trying too hard makes it harder to do. We should just concentrate on making each other feel as good as we can and it will happen, at least more often than not." Despite her words, Tommy was determined to prove he could make her have that bang every time. He'd figure it out someway. He'd ask her what to do if he had to. And then he had another take on her words. "Then we don't have to stop," he pounced. "You said it will happen and that means we can keep doing it." "You are a tricky boy," she said, tutting, "But just because I said it that way doesn't mean anything. Saying something doesn't make it work out. Okay, I think we can still meet if we're careful, but that can change. And you can't get upset or crazy if we have to stop seeing each other. That's part of a relationship like ours." Tommy wasn't listening. He stopped at 'we can still meet'. The other stuff was grown-up don't count on anything and be careful that he didn't need to hear. He knew he couldn't count on grown-ups for the important stuff, only the boring stuff. He only wanted the hope anyway. Thinking he could have sex with Mrs. Miller was enough to sustain him. He would worry about losing that when he lost it. As usual, things of import only occurred to Tommy later. They popped up as revelations as the most unlikely times. He was considering the knotty problem of the Spring dance when one hit him. Here he was tip-toeing around the issues of teen angst and sexuality that didn't apply to him. He was indeed the sex-meister, the bringer of orgasm to women. That it was a sacred secret known only to himself and his lover didn't change the facts. He could boldly ask whomever he wished and dazzle her with his calm and knowing when they reached that awkward point of the requisite sex act. Without conceit, at least not much, he felt sure he ranked with the best lovers in school. His experience, certainly in quality and probably in actual quantity was as good as anyone's. But then he was struck by the betrayal. Not that Mrs. Miller had any right to limit him, nor, he recalled, had she suggested it, but that revealing his knowledge would bring questions as to how he acquired it. Besides, it was betrayal of himself in trading his exclusive experience with a mature, sexually secure woman for some romp with a half-formed girl. It might not last. He heard those words now that they were a brick to smash his self-satisfied reflection in the mirror. He could wait and deal when it happened or he could prepare. It seemed silly that happy old Tommy would be dealing with such real issues, but then, he realized, he was hardly happy old Tommy anymore. At least not on the inside where he lived with his secrets. Complicating the issues even more was Mrs. Miller's growing dependence on the boy. This was not her intent. He was to be a thrill to rouse her from the doldrums. She did not think she could, or would want to hold a boy's attention for so long. But beyond being the eager lover she knew he would be, Tommy had progressed to being a bright spot in an increasingly gray life. He was the thrill to chase the doldrums, but she feared there was nothing but a return to the doldrums when she let him go- or lost him. Her intention had been to seduce him, educate him, possibly throw him one last fuck and then shut the door. So sorry, so long, it's been fun, hasn't it. But now she was looking on Tommy as an actual lover and not some diversion. She felt the danger and decried her weakness, but she was finding it ever harder to think of the end of the pleasure of her regular trysts. And most recently she had made it nearly impossible to contemplate the end. Knowing the danger and ignoring it for the gain, she had assured Tommy would be a lover she could not forego. It was simple and obvious although she had never anticipated the need. Tommy was supposed to be long gone before the opportunity presented itself. Worst of all, she knew it would work and the result on her fragile resolve. Still, she lay the boy down and explained about mutual pleasure. His eager tonguing was a bonus she had not considered in her war with herself. It made it at once more wrong and more right. Still, her objective was to suck out that first treacherous ejaculation and then let Tommy revive in her arms. It was more wonderful and more terrible than she guessed. Beginning with his devotion to her pleasure as she sucked the venom from his fang, his unhurried examination and worship of her body as his cock revived left her helpless to consider him as a boy she was seducing. He may have been once, but now he was a lover and she could not feel him touch her without feeling affection, or love. Of course her plan was successful. Had Tommy the restraint to nuzzle, fondle, kiss and touch her as he did, his control of his first orgasm would have brought her to climax. With that head start, she found herself peaking while he thrust and straining toward a second when he drove deep with the short, urgent strokes that announced his own climax. Her only pure comfort was in the man she had made. Neither her fawning desire nor her disgusted contempt could fault the lover she had made of Tommy. That was the triumph in her sad tale. If she had doomed and damaged herself, at least Tommy was better for it. "Do you think I should go to the Spring dance?" Tommy opened his fears and confusion to her. "Why are you asking me?" she inquired. They both felt the tension. Tommy feared she would think him silly or ungrateful. Mrs. Miller feared he was asking for it to end. There was a strange electricity where there was usually drowsy cuddling between the blow-job and the fuck. "Because you're smart and know these things," Tommy started on safe ground, "And because I don't want to make you feel bad." She prompted him for more with a look. "Everybody does it, does something, after the dance," Tommy drew a deep breath and explained. "It's expected. You have to get at least a blow-job or it's like a put-down. A hand job is like only wanting to be friends." "So you're asking if I mind that you have sex with someone else?" she asked. "Yeah, kinda," Tommy hedged. "And if I should let that part of me out there because, you know, nobody will expect me to know what I'm doing." "Afraid someone will suspect some older woman has been giving lessons?" she asked with amusement blunting her fear. "Well, yeah," Tommy said, unsure what her amusement meant, "And that's secret. I don't even think about it around other people." She was touched by the ferocity of his claim. It made giving him her permission harder. But she wasn't yet that lost in her own needs to try and cage him. "Maybe they'll think it was secret girls more your age," she said gently, "No one has to know and you don't have to tell. You'll find you get more respect not telling, especially with girls." "Then I should?" Tommy was anxious, "And you don't mind?" "I can't mind, Tommy," she said sadly, "What we do is wrong. Being with you this way is wrong. Trying to hold you from doing something right is even more wrong. I want you even if it is wrong. I look forward to being with you even if it is wrong. But I'm not going to say you should stay away from the right people because I want to keep you in this... wrong relationship." "But it won't be over if I go to the dance, will it?" Tommy was frightened. Mrs. Miller looked at him for a long time before answering. He was too young to know that whatever she said didn't count. He was too naieve to feel the need that would let him return. It was her chance to attempt to stop it. But if she owed him anything, it was honesty. "No Tommy, maybe it should, but I like you too much. I like what you do to me, how you make me feel too much," she said. "It will have to end someday, but I think we will both know when it's time." Tommy was extra super careful to be a good lover after that. It swelled his head to think that Mrs. Miller felt that way about him. He thought how great she was to him as he fucked her. He looked in her eyes and reminded himself what he owed her when he felt the urge to give up and plunge deep and cum. He knew to fuck through the first spasm. He had become familiar with the rising blush and her hurried breathing. He held his resolve to the probing strokes that fed her arousal despite the feeling he would explode. And on the first tremor on his cock he drove in to release the flood he'd held back and found that sex could always get better even when you thought it was the best it could be. He spurted. She clenched. The rippling of her internals stroked his plunging cock in ways that were new and explosive when his cock was swollen and jerking in its own delivery of passion. It was the way it was supposed to be, he knew dimly. She urged his cum from his cock and it delivered. Both genitalia strived and were rewarded with what they sought. And for a moment, an existential eternity of a moment, he was clamped tight deep inside her, merged inextricably together. He had never felt her grip so tight. He pressed tight to her and let their organs have their love affair on their own. "No girl I know can do that," he said dismissively after recovering. She was warmed by the compliment but it was as nothing compared to the violence of the orgasm he had induced. He thighs still trembled with the force. "Every girl you know can do that if you fuck her like you fucked me," she said. "It's all in caring about her. If you try to make them, any girl can cum like that. It just takes someone who knows how." Tommy felt, strangely, like Mrs. Miller was perched on his shoulder as he approached Stephanie Morgan. They were, after all, childhood sweethearts even if childhood was only a couple of years away. He could think of no one better to have beside him at this rite of passage. He had honed his opening line from: are you going to the dance, to: has anyone asked you yet, to: if you aren't already going with someone... It was simpler than that. He didn't want to know who was taking her if it wasn't him. He only wanted to know one thing. "Stephanie, will you go to the Spring dance with me?" he got to the point. "Why should I?" she was argumentative. Okay. He had made her cry when he called her a teasing little slut after he heard about Steve fingering her. He was mad she wouldn't even let him take her bra off and Steve was getting in downstairs. He hadn't tried to apologize when he found out Steve made a lot of stuff up, but he didn't bear her ill will after that. He did see why she might still carry a grudge. "Because I'm not so much of an asshole any more," Tommy said. "You know I always liked you and I thought you liked me." He could see her pause to consider. He might not have advanced his cause, but he hadn't hurt it. "That was when we were kids," she said, also ignoring the short time between that and the present. They had moped in hurt silence, taking to other groups that rarely collided. But lately it seemed she no longer scowled when she was forced to look at him. It was short of a smile, but it was progress. "I'm sorry I called you those names. Steve said you did stuff that was a lie and I'm sorry. I was hurt. But I'm not such an asshole any more and even if you did stuff I know it's your business and not mine," he said in one gulp. "You were jealous?" came the immediate reply. "Insanely," he said with Mrs. Miller's help. "I though you liked him better. I was mad you'd hurt me that way." Something he attributed to Mrs. Miller told him to stop without making an excuse or pleading his case. Stephanie looked at him hard. "And after the dance," she cut to the chase, "You expect me to do it with you, just like that?" "I expect to go to the dance and have fun. I'll be with the girl I want to be with if you'll come," he said. "I leave after the dance up to you. No complaints and I promise not to call you names." "You were hurt?" she went back to a prior topic as if the after dance discussion didn't exist. "You're the only girl I'd ever done anything with," he said, "You're still the only girl I've done anything with. It felt like it was all a lie and you were playing with me." "Well..." she said and stopped, "I guess I'll go to the dance with you." He didn't even need Mrs. Miller, other than the one on his shoulder, to make sense of it. He wouldn't have admitted anything so embarrassing as only having made out with one girl before. He would have made her force out the apology. As to the other unmanly things he said, there wasn't a chance. Which was the chance he would have had before Mrs. Miller. And as far as it being Stephanie's choice after the dance... He knew she didn't believe he wouldn't coax her or try to persuade her, but he meant what he said. She could walk away. But somewhere in his head, perhaps Mrs. Miller again, he knew she wouldn't. It was there in her weak refusal to go to the dance. She did miss him. They had both been hurt by a stupid child's misunderstanding and there was a chance to heal. He was confident that she would see a new him at the dance. He'd be open and honest as she was tempted to forgive him. Then he'd let her start it and decide where it went. After all, he was uniquely equipped to stop when she said stop. No one else had Mrs. Miller waiting to satisfy every urge that came up. "Isn't tomorrow the dance?" Mrs. Miller asked. "Yeah," Tommy said, "I'm taking Stephanie like I said." "Then are you sure you want to get worn out tonight? Don't you want to have reserves in case Stephanie wants to forgive you more than once?" Mrs. Miller asked, half seriously. It was a bit of a trial for her. Not because her young stud might get laid after a dance. That comparison could only serve her well. It was the discussions they had about Stephanie and what had become of the pair. She knew, as Tommy only sensed, that the fires still burned between the two. It was obvious for all the reasons Tommy sensed, since for Tommy to sense it, it had to be obvious indeed. And she knew how he felt about her. Not from professions of profound feeling, which she would mistrust, but from the commonplace things that stuck with him. He liked her not because she was pretty or because he wanted to fuck her. He just liked her. Knowing how she felt, she could not imagine any girl, or woman, whom he turned that warmth on not melting. He was too dear and sweet not to steal a girl's heart. "I want to be with you," Tommy said directly, "You know it's not just sex any more. Even if it is the best sex ever. You've been so good to me. You've taught me so many things and not just sex. I couldn't have gotten Stephanie to go to that dance without you. I just like to be with you. Talk to you." Mrs. Miller had a nasty impulse to make him prove that, but she knew it would cause him less hardship than her. She craved his body, his cock. It wasn't all about sex, but she wasn't going to pass up the sex. In the mix of emotions over having him to herself one last time, for she was sure Stephanie would not resist his charm and afterwards she would be sharing, she had an idea. It was an idea she couldn't resist. It was full of the nasty thrill that first led her to seduce a boy and also held some sentimental solace that she wouldn't be losing her exclusive link with him. She was going to teach him how to fuck a woman in the ass! "It's just a minor change in plans- a send-off for success with your young lady," she said cheerily after a sojourn in the bathroom. She was clean, slightly lubricated from what remained after the enema and as open as her two fingers could pry. She had goose bumps over introducing him to the act and perhaps a bit from concern about how her long dormant anus would respond after so long. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. His cock was beginning to respond to her naked body. She felt the goose bumps multiply as she saw his passion for her. "I'm not going to suck you- at least not 'till you cum tonight," she said as she crawled past him, "I want you to do something else and then we can make love." All that was lacking was a cartoon 'boinnng' over Tommy's dick as it snapped to attention at her words. Mrs. Miller had never shown him anything that had been bad. He couldn't imagine what was left to do, but he was sure it would be great. When he turned around to climb on the bed with her, she was laying on her side with her back to him. "I want you lie behind me tonight," she said, "You'll see why." He cuddled up behind her, his cock going down between her buttocks to slide excitingly across her slit. He bent his thighs to press on the backs of hers and reached over to fondle her breast. "Tonight I want you to put your cock in my asshole and fuck it," she said, her voice husky with saying it out loud. He didn't stiffen. It was more that he stopped cold when he heard her plan. "Are you going to like that?" Tommy asked. "Almost as much as sucking you off," she said without editing. "I mean, it's like sex too- and sexy. There are good feelings that come with it. It just doesn't get me off either." Tommy had always thought she was being nice when she sucked his dick. He had formed that opinion before he had a concept of women cumming too. After all, it was the first sex he'd had. He didn't feel guilty, only more affectionate toward her. As to this other... He decided to be guided by her wishes. If she wanted to rid him of the quick one that way, who was he to protest? Even if he suspected that he was more than capable of withholding that first squirt until he had made her cum. He formed a warmer opinion when she smeared lube on his two middle fingers and encouraged him to massage her asshole with them. It was not only intimate in a new way, she moaned and grunted as he massaged the muscled ring with a heartiness that convinced him of her willingness. "Push them in," she said with a hint of discomfort, "Make sure it's slippery up inside." Her back arched like an orgasmic spasm, although it might be interpreted as pain, when he pushed his fingers up her ass. She moved her ass as he moved his fingers in what felt to Tommy like warming up for his cock replacing his fingers. "Now stick your cock between my legs," she instructed, holding her top leg high to create space. It was the beginning of new, yet familiar sensations when he felt her grasp his cock and pull him tight against her rear. She proceeded to stroke his cock with lube-covered hands like some strange sex where her pussy was displaced and its nature changed to a gripping and sliding tunnel. He was panting when she let go. "Now put it in," she said bending her rear toward him, "Put it on the hole and ease it in, slowly." The ease had nothing to do with finding her pussy and zipping in. There was resistance from the start, although not what he might find elsewhere, if he could know. "Ease faster," she urged when he stalled pressing the head of his cock to her sphincter. The resistance didn't stop as he pressed the head of his cock in. He kept the pressure and was relieved when her response was a release of breath the sounded of relief. "Right to the end, right to the bottom," she huffed as he pressed, "You can go faster." He didn't really want to. It seemed he was forcing hard enough to get his cock in the narrow opening and it gave him an exquisite pleasure to feel the grip passing down his cock. He didn't mind the slow progress but he pushed harder to appease her. Then he was tight against her rear. His cock was gloved in a hot clinging tube and he didn't know what to think. "Come up next to me, grab my tit again," she said. He had canted back as he pushed into her without noticing. He moved back to press his chest on her back and reached over to hold her breast. He didn't remember her ever calling it a 'tit' before. "Now work it slow, work it easy, like this," she said, her hips following her words to rock and grind against him. Then it was the mother of fucking. The tight band around the base of his cock moved. He felt his cock rummage, a hard thing against soft things. And he was aware of how deep and how completely he was inside her. Only this wasn't just fucking. He wasn't thrusting into the space empty and made for him to enter. He was in her ass. His cock was inside her where it had to strive for access. He was penetrating her body in a new way, in a place that was not walled off to keep him from her deepest vitals. "Feel how hard you are inside me," it was an intimate whisper inviting him to share, "And so big, so deep, right up into the center of me. You have me. I'm yours because you possess me." It was the feeling of her words rather than the text that Tommy felt. It was beyond him to think of mastering his mentor. He felt, rather, that she had all of him and was working her will. "Now. Fuck me Tommy. Fuck me with your cock. Fuck me up my ass," she gasped out. He was too overwhelmed by the experience to feel the slight release of the band about his base. No other thing was as big of an event to her. He pulled back and thrust in to obey. She let out another sigh that sounded of relief. Now something of her words filled Tommy's cock. He was ravager, batterer in a way he never felt before. The resistance was still there, but beyond it felt like unlimited license to enter and fill. He fucked her feeling that he was driving to a depth unknown and unlimited. "Faster, Tommy, fuck it hard!" she encouraged. There was the elusive feeling of cock moving, the stimulation of nerves, the psychological accepting. It was the frustrating almost of being fucked in the ass. She wanted him to pound harder. She wanted the feelings to increase, but mostly, she wanted him to finish. "I'm almost there!" Tommy announced. "Wait, wait!" she called out. She knew almost there. There were hard buckings, uncoordinated thrusts and a long almost. She reached back to clasp Tommy's cheek to her and rolled on her stomach. She lay flat and arched her hips up. "Now. Go on and finish," she said, Slap, slap, slap, slap, it was buttocks meeting his groin that Tommy felt nearly as much as his cock delving into the hot tight of her ass. And that was very good. Freed of too much confusion of sensation, too much striving, he was fucking. Almost went to right now in under a minute. "I'm cumming!" Tommy announced long after she knew. He had driven into her and was jerking pointlessly against her rear as he cried out. He was still filling her with cum, but it was hardly the first flooding. "That was so weird," Tommy said as he lay stunned beside her. "Did you like it?" she asked a bit crossly. "It was weird," he said again, "So much stuff going on. It was like the first time all over again. I'm still not sure what all of it was." More satisfied by the explanation, she turned to him and stroked her hand over his chest. He giggled and flexed his biceps where her breast lay on his arm. It was her idea, she thought. If he didn't know what to say it wasn't his fault. It was new to him. That was a pleasing thought that carried over to washing his cock. He was her little boy toy after all. If he was a stellar student that made her forget his place, then it was a tribute to her methods and skill at teaching. Her self-satisfaction dissolved again as Tommy, unbidden, snuck down to nose her clit and tongue her vulva as he revived. That was without even a hint that he had absorbed her comment about sucking dick and was paying her back for that most pleasurable favor. She hardly even thought of Tommy between the legs of another girl as he climbed on her and fucked. He was there for her, looking in her eyes and seeing what she needed. It was hard not to love him when he was making her cum so hard. "So. Blow-job or you want to do it in my ass? As if I have to ask," Stephanie said coldly. "Really, Stephanie, we can just talk or hold hands," Tommy said earnestly. "You don't want a blow-job?" she asked suspiciously. "I want everything, but not right now," he said. "I'm not sure we're ready for that." "What? We're just kids and it's too grown up?" she was surly. "We. Us. You and I," he said, "There's a lot of stuff that's gone on since I had my hand under your bra. I don't think we should jump right into anything before we get up to date." "You want a list of everybody I dated and what I did?" she was not cooling. "I don't want it to be a thing that you just do and then that's it," he said. "I want to be at a place where it means something to both of us. I want to make up for anything I did to you. I want you to like me like you did. I still like you that way." "Would you lick my pussy if I told you to?" she asked. "I'd rather do that than have you blow me and then kiss me off," he said. "Even if that was all it was?" she showed interest. "Of two choices, yes," he said, "But I'd rather you tell me that it would mean more." "How can I trust you?" she asked. "Which is why I want to talk and maybe hold hands," he said. "We don't have to do anything because everyone else is. I'll say you did if you want me to. I want you to trust me. I want anything we do to be because we feel it. I don't think you feel it yet." "I feel like getting my pussy licked," she said. "Should I take off my pants?" It was tougher without Mrs. Miller on his shoulder, but he wasn't trying to be smooth or correct. He was leaving it up to his heart. "Okay," he surrendered, "But so you know, I think I love you." The park bench was too perfect for their purpose. It gave Stephanie the perfect place for her butt and in an emergency a place to ground her feet. The blanket protected her dress and the dress itself provided instant cover should they be interrupted. It was almost like it had been planned, except it hadn't. Tommy sat between her legs and encouraged her to rest her thighs on his shoulders. As he looked at the downy covered crimson cleft he tried to imagine how he would be if not for Mrs. Miller. The sight would drive him wild. The thought of putting his mouth in it would make him sick. The best she could hope was that he screwed up his face and pushed it down there for as little time as he could manage. He tried to imagine the surprise she was about to have. "Oh, that's not it. That's not it at... " Stephanie started dismissively and trailed off. He had kissed her gently on the arrow-shaped apex. His lip came out to stroke her lips. His tongue slithered into the folds in time to stop her talking. He kissed harder. He was just starting. He knew she would be satisfied when he was done. His lips grazed hers for a bit before he sent his tongue tip slithering deeper. With a secret memory he turned his head to match her lips to his and kissed her deeply. He brought out a deep sigh that was nearly a groan. Then he licked. Up and up, lapping, picking his time to center on her clitoris and hood. Then tongue deep again, lip and nose to press on the electric bud. He could feel her growing arousal first in the agitation of her thighs on his shoulders and then in the way her hips thrust to have more of his demonic tongue. He silenced his urge to grab her buttocks and part her sex with his thumbs by pressing his hands to the underside of the table. He was to lick her and his tongue was going to be his only tool. Stephanie was far from silent as his tongue built her passion. No words, there were only gasps, sighs and cries in different registers. She scaled high as his tongue bullied her clit. It dropped to an animal grunt when he drove his tongue into her. A vocalization, an ohhh or ahhh or perhaps a tremolo between the two wailed out of her as he put vibrating pressure on her clit and delved and twisted inside her with his tongue. Her buttocks jerked clear of the table, one, two, three times with more spastic motion each time. Then she landed with a plop and clamped her thighs tight to his head. "No more," she gasped weakly, "Not right now." He didn't say anything when she released his head. He limited himself to looking up at her with his face smeared in her juices. "Where did you learn to do that?" she asked. And there they were. It was the question he feared, knew would be asked. He knew the answer, but it seemed against reason to withhold anything from the woman he wanted to trust him. But he couldn't tell. He kept silent. "Anyway it was okay," she said when it was evident he wasn't going to answer. He handed her her panties to replace before she got off the table. She sat down beside him and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "You can blow me off if you want, but I hope you don't," he said. She looked surprised when she turned her head. "You just did... that, and it's okay if I get up and leave?" she asked. "What would you have done if I asked you to blow me?" he asked back. Her look was kind of pensive, but for the severely pursed lips. She looked down at her knees. "I guess I would have said something snippy and gone off," she admitted. "I don't want that," he said. "I want it to be like it was and I think we have to get to know each other again for it to be like that." "Wipe your face," she told him. He found a handkerchief and wiped the evidence from his face. When he was done, she was staring at him. "If you've gone this far for some cheap joke, then fuck you Tommy Winters," she said angrily, and then she kissed him. "You didn't try to feel my tit," she said when the long kiss had ended, "That's not like it was." He laughed. What had seemed so somber and serious before had popped like a soap bubble. It was like having his Stephanie back. "I do better when it's a T-shirt," he countered. "That dress looks too complicated to navigate." It was at least the trying out time of being the same. With no regret on his part, he walked her home without further intimacy, just talking like old times. "...And what is that about your ass?" he said as they walked up her street. "I'm a good girl," she giggled, "I can't do it the regular way. Heather told me about it. I can still be a virgin." "And how many times have you done it?" he asked, not curious but sensing there was more than she was saying. "Once," she said boldly, "Almost. All right, never. But it's what I'm going to do." "Okay, okay, not trying to pry," he held up his hands, "It's just that you offered." He thought he had said something bad again. She got a forlorn look. "Maybe I meant it," she said, much less bold, "Maybe I hoped it would be okay. Maybe I missed you too." Tommy wasn't sensitive enough to let her see him cry yet. But his looked matched her forlorn own. So much missed for so little reason. "And maybe it can be," he said with a throb in his voice, "You know I want that. If you want it too, then what's to stop us?" It was a hug of solidarity, of friendship, of resolve, not intimacy as they held each other. She might have even felt some wetness leak from his eye to trickle down her cheek. "Next time you have to tell me about once, almost, never," he said with false bravado to break the mood. "If you do what you did again," she leaned in to say quietly in the direction of his ear, "It might be once, really, and you." "It's not unknown," Mrs. Miller sighed, seeing her time coming to an end. "But it's usually only girls from strict families and old world customs that resort to it." "Well, I don't care," Tommy said. "We don't have to do it if she doesn't want. It's not about that." "But it might be for her," Mrs. Miller reminded at a cost to herself. It was the right thing, the only thing. Even more because of his ability to please her and be the bright spot in her life. She owed him happiness for the happiness he had given her. Tommy looked at her questioningly. "Don't you want to be with her, be close like you are with me?" she asked. "I don't have to," he said firmly, "I can wait. She doesn't have to do that for me." "But that's not the point. Don't you think she has the same feelings about being with you? Maybe she doesn't want to wait. Maybe she wants to do that for you. Don't you see? She might want it as much as you do," she explained. Clearly that made sense. It was the elusive answer to why Mrs. Miller had let him fuck her in the first place. She liked it. She wanted it. And Stephanie might be the same. He would have never understood that without Mrs. Miller. "I love you, Mrs. Miller," Tommy spoke from his heart, "You're the best. I owe you so much." She didn't think his debt was that deep. He couldn't know how much joy she received at having his vital youth for her own. But she was not one to pass up an opportunity, particularly when she dreaded them fast coming to a close. "You could show me what impressed Stephanie so much," she suggested. ###