by Paul Bailey
This story, based in the UK in the 1970s, is about a young man (well let's put him at 31) who lets himself fall under the influence, in more ways than one, of a 50 year old woman, who has not passed the flower of youthful exuberance and is still very much embroiled in eroticism.
We had been going out for a couple of months. Jo was lovely. Everything a man could ask for. She was tall (5'10 in her stockings), had a fabulous figure, with large well moulded and firm breasts (36D cup) and a full, rounded bottom. She was physically strong and fit (she worked out once a week) and was successful in business. She had long blonde hair, which she mostly wore loose down her back where it reached her waist, but occasionally it would invade her front, where, if she was naked, it tantalisingly attempted to conceal her ample, proud bosom. To cap it all she loved me and was a demanding and persistent lover. She was perfect for me, or possibly, if I dared to think about it, for most red blooded men. OK, she was 19 years older than me. OK, there were a few lines on her face, but they were mostly laugh lines and, in my mind, they made her more attractive. She did not look that older than me, certainly did not behave old, unless one counts dominance as a sign of age, and in any case what is 19 years between great lovers?
She had her own business, involving the distribution of fashion items within the fashion trade. It was a high powered enterprise, earning a good salary. But it also meant that she had to attend meetings or business lunches or dinners, and these would often impinge on our social life. But I was not worried by this. Being self employed she was able to take time off or adjust her schedule to suit herself.
She was very protective of her private life. There were strict rules by which I had to abide. I was not given a key to her flat. Whenever I was intending to visit her I would have to text beforehand. I was never to arrive at her flat unannounced and I could only visit her when she said it was OK to do so. "After all, darling," she had explained, "I may be involved in negotiating an important contract, and we wouldn't want you bursting in with your trousers down around your ankles and your willy hanging out!"
We both had our own flats in the town. Hers was spacious and light, with an entrance into a large, well decorated sitting room, which included a dining area. There was a well-found and modern kitchen, a large double bedroom and a small spare room. There was a separate bathroom, with a loo and modern shower. From both the sitting room and her main bedroom there were French windows leading out to an outside deck. The deck was twenty foot by twelve foot, surrounded by a railing and overlooking the back garden. There was adequate room on the deck for a small table and four chairs and it was quite secluded, although there was a block of flats at the bottom of the garden with six windows overlooking it. She had various flowers and plants about, so it was a really lovely place to sit, eat, drink and pass the time away. The garden extended some 30 ft from the deck, and at the bottom was a wooden shed, measuring about 15ft by 15ft.
Occasionally she came to my flat, which was small in comparison. More often we would end up after work in hers. Although I would often spend the night with her, I was not allowed to leave any of my clothes there. Once I had left her premises there was to be no evidence that I had been there. She made the rules and I was happy to abide by them.
I adored her. No, I worshipped her.
She taught me many lessons. On one occasion we were both naked in bed and we started wrestling. We struggled together laughing, and suddenly she was on top of me and straddling me. She sat on my chest and held my arms down by my head with her hands. Her breasts were hanging down tantalisingly a few inches from my lips. She was strong and I was pretty well helpless. We were both perspiring and breathing hard. She looked me in the eye. We were both giggling and laughing. She moved forward. "Lick me," she said. I looked at her vagina which was inches from my nose. She was in control. My cock hardened. I looked into her eyes. "Lick me hard," she said again. I was immobilised. She shifted her body up mine until I could smell the aroma from her. Her pussy was close to my mouth. I put out my tongue and licked. The taste was musty and almost sour. I licked her more enthusiastically. She sighed deeply. "Oh God," she exclaimed. "That is so good." Her hands went to my face. "Lick harder," she said as she almost smothered me by moving forward so her vagina was pressed to my mouth and her pubic hairs tickled my nose. She pushed down on top of me. I explored with my tongue and felt her clitoris. I licked and licked until my tongue ached.
"Oh, God, God, God!" she exclaimed again. My cock was rising. Shortly her hands left my face and she found it magnificently proud behind her. She lifted, moved back, opened her labia with her fingers and impaled herself on my organ. We both sighed in deep contentment. I pulled her hips up and she raised them obligingly. Down she came again. She started to ride my cock. Up gently, then down with fury. Up, hold. Down. My hands were hard on her firm breasts and the nipples were solid. It was wonderful. Up again gently, down hard. For ten minutes she rode me getting more and more enthusiastic. We both came at the same moment. "You use your cock beautifully," she told me. "Such a stud! ... But with so many lessons to learn," she added. We were both exhausted as we lay together in each others' arms.
One night she was in the bedroom of my flat after we had been to a particularly boozy party. I was desperately tired and I dropped off to sleep in bed as she was in the bathroom. She came out and saw me asleep. She woke me up and became very angry, telling me in no uncertain terms that it was unacceptable for me to fall asleep before she got into bed. She went to the kitchen, grabbed a large wooden spoon, got on the bed and made me bend over her knees while she whacked me with it. It was very painful. But I had a tremendous erection and in no time we were making passionate love. I never went to sleep before she got into bed again. I was sore but the feeling in my lower regions had been warm and sensuous, and it had certainly turned us both on.
A couple of days later we were lying in bed one afternoon. "You were turned on when I smacked you," she casually told me.
"Yes," I replied.
"Have you been spanked before?"
"We were often caned at school."
"Caned? Wow. That sounds exciting. Tell me about it," she told me.
I then told her how it was customary for the sixth formers at a boys' only school in the 1950s (before the politically correct squad removed all fun from life) for punishments to be given after prep in the gym, with the offending boys dressed in PE shorts. The boys in trouble would line up at the side of the gymnasium and each would be called forward in turn to bend over the vaulting horse to receive whatever punishment was deemed suitable for the offence. This usually consisted of up to 6 strokes of the cane. It was normal for us boys to put on at least one, if not two pairs of underpants under our PE shorts, as we all knew that the housemaster would never challenge us by taking our shorts down and looking to see what we were wearing underneath, even though we were not supposed to wear any pants beneath our PE shorts. I was due a caning for smoking.
For some unexplainable reason I felt excited by the prospect, as I knew that this would entail six hard strokes, smoking being one of the more serious offences. There were four of us changing in the locker room that evening to get ready for our punishments and I suddenly had a very large erection. I was very confused as I attempted to conceal it. I knew that I was looking forward to the punishment and found the prospect exciting. To increase my sense of excitement I slipped my PE shorts on with nothing underneath.
I was hard as I went into the gym and I am sure that the housemaster noticed. I watched as the three other boys went over the vaulting horse in turn and were caned. This heightened my anticipation.
"It was a turn on then."
"Oh, yes. Afterwards I got hard just thinking about it. In fact the next term I deliberately got into trouble so as to have a repeat performance."
"So, would you like me to beat you?" She saw my naked cock rising. She touched it. "I think that answers the question."
Without any further encouragement I laid myself across her lap pushing my enlarged cock between her thighs as close to her pussy as I could get.
"Oh, darling," she said, "you have the most lovely fleshy white round bottom. Just made for smacking." Her hands gently caressed my buttocks.
"Good boy." She gripped my cock with her thighs and started spanking me with her hand. After twenty or so slaps she stopped and rubbed my bottom. "But I think that you need something more severe. I think that I should get a cane. You would like that, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, yes," I replied, knowing that it would be fantastically erotic for me. We then made love. She was already wet without any further stimulation from me. The spanking had excited her as much as it had excited me. It was a long drawn out and gentle lovemaking. As I thrust into her she told me: "Do not come. I want it to last." I thrust into her again gently. 'Take it easy' I thought to myself. 'Make it last.' So I was careful. When I felt that I was about to come I told her to stay very still. I made myself think of something obscure. Then when the likely potential surge had subsided I gently started the thrusting again. In and out gently. She picked up the rhythm. Wait, stop. Think of something else. "Wait!" She stayed still. OK, the feeling has gone. Start thrusting again. And so we continued, both of us sensing when to restrain ourselves and when to pick up the much desired movement again. We lasted twenty minutes before she groaned very loudly and I could not stop myself. I thrust deep and I came. She gripped me tight. "Oh, darling, that was so good," she told me. "You last so well."
We carried on our working lives and met to make love several times a week. Many times we went out to parties and afterwards we would return to her flat. She would spank me occasionally but it was never too severe. On one occasion she used my belt on me. It was much more painful than her hand, and I was considerably aroused by the threat of it. She became aware of this and from then on the belt became a regular feature in our lives.
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