Ravishing Fantasy - The Sequel

"How would it work?" I inquired, while making faces at Rosalyn who was giggling despite the bottle nipple in her mouth.

"What I was thinking was that Rosalyn and Brent could stay here – Brent in the first floor bedroom with the crib either there or in the den – while I was gone so you didn't have to travel at all; and maybe you could even take a day or two off of work," Sybil replied with an expectant smile.

My pussy started instantly gushing at the thought of Brent and I alone for five nights; but I resolved to play it cool.

"Well what does Brent have to say about that?"

"You know how much he likes you, Mom;" ["if she only knew" flashed through my brain]; he'd like it. In fact he pointed out that your house is even fifteen minutes closer to his office so he'd have extra time each day with Rosalyn ["or his monstrous meat in my poor abused pussy" made an unwelcome pass through my mind].

"You know that Dad will be gone on a business trip planned a long time ago, from the 15th through the 24th, and Jason will be back at school; is Brent OK with just me and him in the house?"

"Yes..." Sybil laughed. "Just don't flirt with him, I don't want him getting a case of blue balls," she continued, laughing even more.

I smiled, and resolved to finally have that serious "talk" with Brent.

****************

By the time that the 15th rolled around I had convinced myself that I could stave Brent off; either that or I wouldn't have to because he no longer had sexual interest in me. After all I was now approaching 51 and he was only 27.

All three of Brent, Rosalyn, and I kissed Sybil goodbye at the airport early afternoon on the 15th. Then the three of us went and did little kid things together, going to the park, a petting zoo, and a kid-friendly restaurant. I watched Brent closely during this time, and he gave no indication that he was looking for any excuse to ravage me. By the time we got home from the restaurant Rosalyn was exhausted and asleep in Brent's arms, and strangely I was both physically and emotionally fatigued too.

We changed Rosalyn's diaper, put her in her crib in the den and checked the baby monitors in both the first floor bedroom and my bedroom to insure that we would be alerted if she had a problem during the night, and then we got a couple of beers and watched some vacuous TV. Brent was very pleasant and solicitous, but aside from some tender touches never displayed any outward sign that he had "plans" for me that night, the sneaky little bastard.

When I went up to my room after exchanging chaste kisses with Brent, I was relieved that we didn't need to have "the talk," while at the same time strangely melancholy that he didn't have sexual interest in me anymore. I guess that I still really wanted to be desired by such a handsome, young, virile man.

As I was showering in our large shower stall in the master bathroom, the door suddenly slid open and naked Brent – with his cock so hard it was almost sticking straight up, and so voluminous that it looked thicker than before – burst in.

"Brent, we can't resume..." I started to say before he roughly grabbed me and planted a seriously passionate kiss on my lips while simultaneously groping an ass cheek with one hand and a nipple with the other.

When Brent finally broke the kiss her growled "I've missed you so much the last thirteen months that I'm about to burst. I'll need to fuck you constantly over the next five nights to make up for it."

With that he lifted me up by my ass cheeks, pinned me against the shower tile wall, and somehow managed hands-free to maneuver the weapon between his legs up my pussy.

As we almost simultaneously came like freight trains I suddenly realized that I had missed fucking Brent much more than I had been willing to admit to myself.

After we finally turned off the water, and made a perfunctory attempt to dry each other off, he carried me to my bed and the sexual gymnastics began in earnest. "I've never spent the entire night with you," he grumbled, "and we're going to make a mockery of the term 'sleeping together.'"

That night I gave myself completely to Brent. With my eager cooperation he could have done anything that he liked to me – including fucking my ass if his ejaculating monster could ever fit in my tiny puckerhole. While we did "sleep" together we did in fact make a mockery of that word because with few interruptions his cock was in my pussy or mouth, or his lips and tongue on my labia or clit, almost the entire night.

When we heard Rosalyn nosily bouncing in her crib and calling out "Daddy" and "Grandma" as best she could form those words, Brent dragged his ass out of bed, smiled as he swatted my ass and said "I can't believe four more nights with my wet dream," and then stumbled downstairs to attend to his daughter.

As I tried to get maybe an hour's sleep before I got up I realized that I was never going to be able to give Brent up as long as he desired me, so there was no longer any reason to pretend otherwise.

When Rosalyn went down for her nap, Brent and I finally had "The Talk." It didn't go as I had previously expected.

"Brent – as much as I hate myself for what we're doing, I can no longer pretend that we shouldn't be doing it. I simply enjoy fucking you too much. But I can't believe that a handsome virile young man like you wants a sexual relationship with me; and don't we need to find a way to wind down our activities before you start to find me disgusting."

With a stern look on his face, Brent came over to me, lifted me up off the couch, and then sat back down with me on his lap.

"You really don't get it, do you Amy?"

"Get what?"

"I'm not ever going to tire of you. I love you."

"Da...da...don't say that," I stuttered. "You should love Sybil, your wife."

"I do love Sybil – but that doesn't mean that I can't love you too. And why I know that I'll never tire of you is because you have the 'it' factor – maybe it's pheromones – that simply drives me nuts. The happiest I am in life is when you're climaxing on my cock. You're my ideal fuck and I'll never give you up."

************

The five nights that Sybil was gone were the most exhilarating, fulfilling, and exhausting of my life. Sometimes I wondered if Brent was a sex machine – and he said the same thing about me. We had a further talk and coolly, calmly, and with malic afterthought, planned out what we would do in the future.

**************

It's now four years after Sybil's seminar (she did get the promotion and she and Brent bought a new house only four blocks from mine). With the exception of times of illness or during vacations, Brent and I have managed to get together once a week. The venues and days of the week for our clandestine adventures change, but the exhilaration that I get from Brent ejaculating in me, after I choke his cock with my pussy muscles, never do. Despite the fact that I'm 55 and he's 31, he seems to desire me even more than the day he took part in my ravaging reality.

So as I orgasm once again with his girthy cock emptying itself into my pillaged cunt I feel only elation – no guilt. I've accepted my fate.