This story continues to follow the affair between Jay, a young English naval officer, and Mrs Hazel Kellerman, a widowed neighbour of his aunt, who is in her early fifties. I’ve again written it as a split narrative; relating the tale first from Jay’s and then from Mrs K’s perspective.

JAY’S STORY

On the Monday I spent another rather boring day at the college trying to get to grips with the spoken Arab language. To be honest, I could hardly concentrate at all; my mind was full of the great sex I’d had with Mrs. K the day before, and the delightful thoughts I had imagining my next time with her, which was thankfully to be that very evening. 

Try as I may at my task, my head was just filled with thoughts of her: her charming warm personality, the way she made me totally and utterly relaxed, and her full, ripe mature body, those big heavy breasts topped with massive nipples, her soft creamy skin, her full round ass. But, maybe most attractive of all was her huge sexuality. I was enchanted by her; totally enveloped physically and mentally in our affair. With her, I was experiencing a level of sexual hunger and fulfilment that I would have previously thought impossible. 

I’d guessed she may be in her early fifties (I thought it perhaps impolite to ask), due to the age of her children and the way she related some of her life experiences when we talked; bands in concerts and festivals she had attended, films she has seen at the cinema with her deceased husband, tales of her youth etc. But, while she may be the best part of thirty years older than me, and two of her three children my senior, she was very fit and toned. In fact, she was just about the sexiest woman I had ever set my eyes on, let alone bedded.

Sometimes, via her conservative, lady-like dress sense and use of language, I thought she deliberately accentuated and exaggerated the age gap between us. I believed this was because she felt as much of a thrill fucking a man young enough to be her son as I did screwing a much older mature lady. It was just that air of forbidden fruit, the sense that there was something naughty, at the least unconventional, in two people such as us making love. It was such a delicious feeling.

Mid afternoon I left the college and returned to my aunt’s house. By the time I showered and changed clothes it was 3.30, which seemed to me a frustratingly long time from the 7.00 o’clock we had arranged to meet to go for a drink and maybe a meal in a favourite country pub she knew.

I debated doing some work, reading, exercising or surfing the net for a while, but lust got the better of me. “What the hell,” I said to myself, “Let’s see what Mrs. K’s up to right now.”

I’d seen her car parked in her drive on my way back, so knew that she was in. I only hoped she was alone. As I went to knock on her front door I heard music playing quite loudly, it appeared to be coming from the back of the house.

Instead of knocking I walked down the side path following the song, I think it was an early nineteen-seventies soul song, maybe by Isaac Hayes. She loved that kind of music. Now at the back of the property, I looked through a window into a utility room and saw Mrs. K ironing a blouse. She was also moving her full hips in time to the music and silently mouthing some of the words. The sight made me kind of laugh and smile at the same time.

I knocked hard on the window and she appeared momentarily startled, before she noticed me, opened a door for me and smiled with both her mouth and her beautiful, deep brown eyes. We shared a warm greeting and short kiss before we moved inside. It was another warm day and she was barefooted, and wearing a loose pair of shorts and one of my short denim shirts. She had no make-up on and her curled dark hair was tied up. But anyway, she looked just beautiful to me. She had obviously been out in the sun earlier as her skin had a freshly tanned look, and best of all, I had caught her not wearing a bra, which was obvious as her large breasts hung slightly low in a very alluring way, and between the buttonholes of the shirt at chest height I could see exposed flesh. From the pile of washing she was ironing a lacy white bra was obviously next in line.

“Oh Jay, just look at me,” she laughed out more then spoke, “I’m hardly a glamorous sight.”

My cock was stirring rapidly, and I felt my face getting warm. “Don’t be silly,” I replied, “Mrs. K you look just fantastic, good enough to eat.”

“Well young man, is that a statement or an offer?” “And,” she said in a mock stern voice, “For the last time, call me Hazel!”

“Ok Mrs errr Hazel,” I teased, “It’s an offer, and it’s a request, and I can beg well if I have to.”

Mrs. K laughed, and then looked down at my crotch; the swell in my jeans was obvious.

“Well Jay, you should know that as a girl I was given some advice, which was basically to keep a ‘suitor’ at a slight distance, so as both not to appear ‘easy’ and to raise the expectation level for later if so desired. Perhaps (she was in teasing mood again), in the modern vernacular, an element of what you may loosely translate as ‘treat them mean to keep them keen.’ Fortunately for you, I have always considered that advice to be complete rubbish and thus ignore it. Now Jay, would you be so kind as to remove all of your clothes immediately to let me feast my eyes upon your magnificent youthful body please?” 

I did as requested, probably in about three seconds. Mrs. K’s face was illuminated by just the huge salacious grin as she beckoned me towards her.

We kissed deeply and hungrily, our tongues rolled and wrestled together as I tasted her sweet warm breath. Her hands ruffled my hair then slowly and sensually, lightly scrolled down my back before resting on my butt cheeks, which she kneaded firmly, almost as though she was working bread dough. She loved my ass.

Still kissing, I removed a hair clip, letting her dark curls fall free and unbuttoned her shirt and then eased it off her. Her magnificent breasts pressed softly against my skin… so warm… so wonderful. The massive nipples were firm and hugely distended.

Mrs. K then curled a hand between my legs and tenderly squeezed my full balls. I replied by slipping her shorts and panties down her full creamy thighs and eased my fore and middle fingers through her very lush dark pubic bush, pressed on her prominent clit then slipped them into her mature pussy. She was very, very wet. I just had to then put the fingers in my mouth, breaking our kiss, to taste her unique and wonderful juices.

She then stepped back a pace, and her deep eyes glinted fleetingly and almost wickedly before she knelt down and, holding it firmly at the base, eased several inches of my big hard tool into her clever, full-lipped cunning mouth. I stroked her head and she made eye-contact with me as she sucked steadily, alternating with rolling her tongue all around the head and opening of my cock-eye.