Seduced In Her John

A while into our illicit fornication, however, I was initiated into a vulgar routine that Mrs. Polisi performed whenever she had her way with me from that day forward. A favorite tune of hers had begun playing on the stereo this time, entitled "More, More, More".

There were these two distinct beats after the words, "More, More, More". In unison to these beats Sandra thrust me in double time and uttered the words "FUCK-FUCK". Strange as it appears, Mrs. Polisi got a rise from taunting me in this manner. In fact, each time she tried to keep up with these half beats she slurred the words until they sounded more like, "FUH-FUCK!!"

Mrs. Polisi began singing her salacious rendition of this tune right there in the midst of our fuck!! Of course, she really didn't "sing" it. Instead, she muttered it in her drawling monotone, and slowly screwed me in & out to the rhythm and the beat: "MORE... MORE... MORE... FUH-FUCK!! HOW DO YA LIKE IT... HOW DO YA LIKE IT??? MORE... MORE... MORE... FUH-FUCK!! HOW DO YA LIKE IT... HOW DO YA LIKE IT??? MORE... MORE... MORE... FUH-FUCK!! HOW DO YA LIKE IT... HOW DO YA LIKE YER F-U-C-K??" OOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo... HOW DO YA LIKE MY POON???!! OOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo... HOW DO YA LIKE YER SCREW???!!"

I felt somewhat confused by the way this long-time neighbor of ours was administering my very first fuck. Sandra seemed to alternately mollycoddle me one instant, and then, embarrass me the next. One moment she'd raise her eyebrows and wink provocatively, as if mothering, "OOOOOOOOOOO, OUR LITTLE MAN'S FUCKIN'??!!" The next she'd fix her gaze over her reading glasses and sternly draw in on her Winston, as if she was still mulling over the thought of tattling on me to my parents.

Mid-way through this song Sandra whipped her cigarette into the side of her mouth and grappled both my butt cheeks. Adding further emphasis she drilled me in & out of her that much harder, and scowled, "DEW YER DUTY, MISTER---START A HUMPIN'!!" As alluded to earlier, I was a neophyte when it came to coitus. Armed only with my intuition, I pistoned my groin back & forth to the tempo of "MORE, MORE, MORE". I averted my eyes to the side to escape her coddling expressions, but she followed suit and glared at me in the mirror. She enjoyed the way that I sulked as she then peered up over her reading glasses in her now-patented authoritarian fashion. Her nails dug into my pouncing rump and she double-time fucked me during the down beats... all the while sucking on her Winston, before drawling: "MORE... MORE... MORE... FUH-FUCK!! HOW DO YA LIKE IT... HOW DO YA LIKE IT??? MORE... MORE... MORE... FUH-FUCK!! HOW DO YA LIKE IT... HOW DO YA LIKE IT??? MORE... MORE... MORE... FUH-FUCK!! HOW DO YA LIKE IT... HOW DO YA LIKE YER H-U-M-P???"

Nearly 15 minutes into my debut fuck, I wailed out warnings of my impending cum. Overcome with the sheer shame of depositing my semen into a previously married woman, I halted abruptly in mid-stroke and begged for a reprieve. To my chagrin, she'd have none of it. With the depravity of a brothel madam hell-bent on capturing my virgin cargo, Sandra plowed me in & out at a whorish pace and grunted, "C'MON, MISTER---POP THAT CHERRY!! GIT A GOIN'---DROP YER LOAD---DROP IT!!" I had no option but to take off galloping like a bucking bronco, causing Sandra's svelte butt to smack the toilet seat up & down once again on the commode. Clouds of bluish smoke billowed from her Winston-slinging lips, as she growled, "FLUSH THE SLUSH, YOUNG MAN!! C'MON---GIMME YER BABY MAKER!! SQUIRT THAT BOY BROTH!!"

Ensnared in her wanton embrace, my nose enmeshed itself in her beehive coif. When my chastity finally exploded from my rod, I turned towards the vanity mirror and was greeted by Mrs. Polisi's matronly features, as I stuttered and sobbed "EEEEWWWWWW, I'M SORRY---MRS. POLISI, DON'T MAKE ME GOOSH!! IT'S SQUIRTIN'---MRS. POLISI---EEEWWWWNNN I'M S-O-R-R-Y!!"

Unprepared for the torrential downpour that deluged her innermost womb, Sandra bellowed though her cigarette-clenching lips,"CHRISSAKES, MISTER---YER A KNOCKIN' ME UP!!"

There were two distinct aspects about my virgin consummation that I'll never—ever forget for as long as I live. I realize that I'd sort of alluded to this, but I was forced to swim in the hypnotic combination of her VO-5 hairspray and Emeraude perfume when my nose entwined itself in Mrs. Polisi's hairdo. Secondly, I shivered at the sensation of my face pressing into her make up-caked, hollow cheekbones. I felt just as squeamish by the way that her silvery eyeglass chain drooped against my flushed cheeks. How the rest of the neighbors clear around the cul-de-sac hadn't heard our taboo mating calls is beyond me. Each time my virgin jism splashed into her marshy sleeve, the entire bathroom resounded with my high-pitched squeals and Mrs. Polisi's heavy, Texas twang: "THAT'S IT---MAKE YER MOMMA PROUD, DAHLIN'---PUMP ME UP!!" "IIIICCCHHHHHHH---I'M SORRY, MRS. POLISI---I'M TRYIN'!!" "KEEP A GOIN'---POP THAT CHERRY IN ME---KEEP A CUMMIN'!!" "I'M SORRY, MRS. POLISI---I'M JUICING----I'M S-O-R-R-Y!!" "THAT'S YER DUTY---DUMP YER BOY BUTTER IN THERE'AH, BUSTER!!" "I'M AM DOIN' IT, MRS. POLISI---EEEEWWWWWWW, I'M SQUIRTING!!"

After she'd managed to siphon me completely dry, I collapsed upon her shoulder---utterly vanquished & humiliated. While Sandra basked in the afterglow of her forbidden conquest, the john was felled by a deafening silence---broken only by the soft sucking & rushing of her breath as she finished her smoke. She kept me imprisoned between her mature loins as the syrupy combination of my creamy chastity and her thick feminine discharges drizzled out and soaked my spent balls. It was as if she wanted me to languish in her swampy vagina so I'd always remember just who it was who plucked my cherry.

She wasn't through with me by any means... not by a longshot!! For the remainder of that weekend until my parents returned, Sandra used me to satiate her womanly desires. And, did she e-v-e-r have an awesome libido for a fiftysomething lady!! I wasn't even granted a respite for supper until after she escorted me to the inner sanctum of her boudoir to have her way with me all over again.

This woman was so anxious to administer my second fuck that she hadn't even bothered to disrobe. She merely kicked up her high heels and trussed up her skirt, before lounging back on her bed in all her spread-eagle splendor. Just as quickly, I found myself prostrated on her bed resplendent in my shirt, socks & sneakers... hovering between Mrs. Polisi's up-bent legs in the act of "dutiful humping". Propping her head up on the pillows, she folded one arm over the other, smoking her Winstons in her increasingly judicial fashion. By this juncture she appeared to be meting out discipline by decreeing that I was going to "dew my duty" even if it took all night. (As an aside, I hadn't a clue as to what she meant when she kept referring to "dew your duty"!!)

During our second fuck, Mrs. Polisi's bedroom reverberated with all the trappings of a hotel bridal suite. The rickety squeaking of her bedsprings and the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall spelled ULTRA-FORBIDDEN, OLDER WOMAN-TO-YOUNGER MALE SEX!! In the midst of all of this yet another of Mrs. Polisi's favorite songs played on the radio... "Rock The Boat",by The Hues Corporation.

That tune had no sooner begun and she found herself clutching onto my butt globes and "fucking to the beat" all over again. Against the easy listening staccato of "Rock The Boat", she droned through her cigarette-dangling lips, leaving me to moan obediently:"ROCK THE BOAT... DON'T ROCK THE BOAT, BABY!!" "THAT'S RIGHT, STUD ME GOOD, NOW... STUD ME GOOD!!" "YES, MAMN---I WILL, MRS. POLISI!! EEEEEWWWWNN, YES MAMN!!" "ROCK THE BOAT... DON'T TIP THE BOAT OVER!!" "HIDE THAT SALAMI, YOUNG'STUH!! YEA'AH, KEEP A FUCKIN'!!" "YES MAMN, I AM!! I'M SORRY, MRS POLISI!! YES MAMN!!" "ROCK THE BOAT... OOOOHH—OOH-OOH—OOOHH-OOHH-OOOOHHH!!"

Even before I squealed out fears of my liquid release, the glum look on my face tipped Sandra off to my approaching orgasm. She screwed me in & out as if she truly were a schoolmarm "tutoring a student in the facts of life". She got a kick from my woeful expression when she slithered my cock head to her engorged vulva... only to force me back downward with an assertive thrust on my hips. I had no recourse but to watch her peering up over those half-frame glasses which rested perpetually on the lower bridge of her nose. Coupled with her beehive hairdo and swizzling cigarette, she looked increasingly like a school disciplinarian!!

So, for the second time in my life this older woman had welcomed my younger sperm into her more "experienced" womb. My cum tends to sling out and has the consistency of ropy egg whites. As before, Mrs. Polisi obviously felt the egg-like texture of the boyhood I spurted into her innermost womanhood. Her mound lurched and undulated as she took my second cherry load with the anxiousness of a spinster who finally got married, complete with her Winston dancing in the corner of her dour lips!!

To my dismay, she again insisted that I warble out my naughty-sounding litany. Between The Hues Corporation's song, Mrs. Polisi's rutting rants, and my pathetic whines, it truly sounded as if she was indeed intent on impregnating herself with my virgin seed: "ROCK THE BOAT... DON'T ROCK THE BOAT, BABY!!" "MAKE ME A MOMMA, BUSTER--SPUNK IT IN ME!!" "PUMP 'ER UP... FILL 'ER MUFF!! EEEEEEWWWWWWWNNNNN BOY, WE'RE FUCKIN'!!" "ROCK THE BOAT... DON'T TIP THE BOAT OVER!!" "DEW IT LIKE YEW MEAN IT, KENNETH----SPILL IT IN MRS. POLISI!!"

Try as I may, I can't find the words to convey the mortifying shame that washed over me during those precious few moments. My humiliation was compounded because of the vice-like grip Sandra held on my pouncing groin, causing my elbows to crumple until I was again cheek-to-cheek with this woman. As before, my flaring nostrils were forced to retreat into her hairspray encrusted do. Once more, I found myself drowning in the aromas that I equated to those of an older, once-married woman... EMERAUDE PERFUME, VO-5 HAIRSPRAY, MATURE MUSKY CUNT, and STALE CIGARETTES!! The more I became entangled in her hive coif, the more my voice was muffled as I obediently finished our "dirty duet": "ROCK THE BOAT... DON'T ROCK THE BOAT, BABY!!" "YER GONNA KNOCK ME UP IF IT TAKES ALL NIGHT, YOUNG MAN!!" "STICK 'ER SLOT... MAKE 'ER HOT!! EEEEEEEWWWWWNNNNNN BOY, I'M GOOSHING!!" "Y'ALL CUN DEW IT, NOW... MAKE A BABY IN THERE'AH!!" "ROCK THE BOAT... DON'T TIP THE BOAT OVER!!"

In short, that was only the beginning!! One can surmise what transpired the rest of the night and over the course of the weekend. While having her way with me, she had me "servicing her" in ways that would probably shock even the most experienced brothel madam.

The rest will have to wait until I finish penning the next installment. This woman even went so far as to take me into the restrooms at her office, with the sole purpose of having her way with me in the midst of her most private moments in the toilet stalls. As if that wasn't enough, she insisted that I "service" her and her friends during their weekly bridge games. One-by-one they corralled me on the commode to have their way with me... while the remaining gals relaxed on vanity stools surrounding us in a semi-circle. While smoking their Winstons, Salems, and Parliaments, they idly chatted about how well I was or wasn't "Dewin' My Duty" on their respective bridge partners!!

I'd love to receive feedback from any of you "fortysomething" or "fiftysomething" gals who have harbored secret fantasies such as these. My ultimate desire is to re-enact my virgin fuck on the commode, at the hands of another older smoker the likes of Mrs. Polisi!!