Bored afternoon at my apartment window. TV drones on about wrinkle cream. I’m 65, three times a grandma. Wrinkles mock my creams. Body slower now, despite hikes and gym. Across the street, a fit silver fox jogs to Flaubert Park. Broad shoulders. Pepper-gray hair. Flash! It’s Hervé! My Hervé! Digging off Christmas feast. Heat floods me. Memories crash in. 1990. Pure fire.
Forty then. Hubby military, away often, rough drunk fucker. Me, part-time bookseller, raising three: Pierre 20, dim athlete; twin girls 14, bitches at military school. Hervé, Pierre’s buddy, two blocks away. Watched him grow from 10. Now 20, raven hair, slim, soft smart eyes. Unlike arrogant dad, vain mom. Always ‘Madame Videl,’ even after scolds.
The Burning Awakening
Curvy Italian blood, like Ava Gardner they said. Full tits, hips, legs. Hubby barely touched. Spring heat. Hervé knocks. Pierre gone. Lemonade in kitchen. Chatting. My linen skirt splits, thighs bare to panties. His stolen glances. Night, I replay. Flattered. Hot.
Now I watch him different. Short skirts. Brushes in kitchen. Alone talks. He compliments legs, blushes. Hubby gone, I hike nightie, spread wide, rub clit dreaming his smooth skin, long sweet cock in my mouth. Shame burns, but pussy drips.
May 14, hot morning. Nuisette clings, unshowered. He seeks Pierre, gone. Eyes him red. Lets him follow upstairs. Knows he sees my ass cheeks. Devil whispers: slow climb. Turn: eyes down, bulge. Sit on Pierre’s bed. He grabs sci-fi book, breath short. Sit close. Faces near. Lips lock. Awkward tongue. Guide his hands to tits. Pinch nipples. Stroke his jeans. He hardens. Push head down: tits, belly, bush. Nuzzles pussy.
‘Sorry, late for uni. And… hairy.’ First time. Promise wax. Heart pounds. Line crossed.
Week later, three hours. Waxed bare, tiny triangle. Suck his thick sweet cock. He pops fast in mouth, creamy youth spurts. Then slow fuck. Pussy grips. We devour.
Discreet but hooked. Taboo fuels. I teach, he devours. Poses from porn mags. Laughing. Four paws, spread ass. Veggies, candles, screwdriver in cunt. Fingers stretch asshole. ‘Troubling black hole!’ Tongue everywhere. First anal orgasm, gentle unlike hubby’s rape.
Wild Acts and Hidden Ecstasy
100th day. Saturday. Family beach. His place. Promise 10 sucks. ‘Pipe day!’ Kneel, mouth his boxer bulge. Sleep with cock softening in throat. Kitchen blow under table, crunching toast. Shower: squat spread, balls mashed, throat flooded.
Piss with door open. He jerks to stream. Suck four. Lunch: cream-lick tits, cock-stir yogurt. Five. Couch, footie: goal blow, then deepthroat six. Car shop run, no panties. Fingers soak slit. Pull over, hood fuck. Ass slick with cunt juice, rams hole. Cum hard. Suck ass-tainted cock. Seven.
Home siesta. Head off bed, floppy dick revives, eight. Phone wank: I floor-suck, self-fuck pen in holes. Face blast. Nine.
Dress floral, lace heels. Final titty suck. Tongue pre-cum. Delicate ten. He leaves on scooter. Gutted.
Two months, he finds girl. Fades soft. No more lovers.
25 years, pussy aches. Intercom buzzes insistent. ‘Madame Videl?’ That voice…