Innocence Corrupted

It was so hot the trees were shimmering in the haze of the sun. Even the birds had given up singing and the whole garden was silent. Andy sat up to sip the last few drops of his beer and then lay back feeling very pleased with himself.

He was just starting on the second week of his vacation after finishing the second year of his history course at university. Life was good. He’d passed his exams, spent the first week of the holiday in Paris with his young beautiful girlfriend, Bryony and was looking forward to a couple of weeks of doing nothing staying with his parents.

They could feed him up, keep him in beer, do his washing for him while he recovered from the exertions of Paris and his exams.

He lay there in his boxers, soaking up the sun in the perfect peace of the garden. It seemed like there wasn’t another soul on the planet. He cast his mind back to Paris and the first time he and Bryony had made love in their Parisian hotel room. The thought of her sexy body lying on the bed in the darkness waiting for him was enough for him to start to stiffen.

Neither of them were sexually experienced and it had taken a whole term of persuasion to get Bryony to sleep with him. Now she was three months into being a virgin no more and, although she had expressed repugnance when he suggested oral sex to her, he was sure he could talk her round in the end.

It wasn’t just Bryony who was sexually naïve. Andy had read all the books, looked at all the magazines and seen the videos, but he’d never experienced the feeling of a woman’s lips closing round his erect member. Come to think of it, he’d never done a lot of things, but he was only nineteen – plenty of time yet!

At the thought of Bryony and the sexual pleasures awaiting him in the future, he felt a growing urgency in his boxers. He looked down to see a substantial tent forming in his groin.

What the heck! He was on his own; his parents wouldn’t be back till gone six o’clock; and there was hardly likely to be anyone come round the back of the house. He pulled his boxers off and for a few moments enjoyed the thrill of letting the sun caress his cock and balls. He’d never done this before and felt a vicarious thrill at the sensation.

He reached up for the sun tan oil from the table and squirted a generous amount into his palm. He smoothed it into his balls and up onto his cock, letting globs of the liquid catch in his pubic hair. He rubbed the oily liquid all over his genitals aware of what the dazzling sun might do to previously unexposed flesh.

God it felt good to lie back in the sun, gently stroking his oily cock and moving his balls up and down, feeling the weight of them. He thought about wanking properly but didn’t have any tissues to hand and didn’t want to get up to get any. Oh, the problems of life!

He gently pulled at his cock, thinking of Bryony’s body and its secrets. He’d never licked her pussy, although he had licked his finger one night after pulling it from her wet hole. The taste was not pleasant, not distasteful, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He imagined there must be more to sucking pussy that that.

And then that other secret area between her bottom cheeks. She’d never let him see her ass properly and as he lay there he tried to imagine what it looked like. What would it be like to try to slide his cock up there? He’d seen videos of ass fucking but couldn’t imagine himself ever doing it.

He was by now struggling with a growing need to come. His cock was rampant in his hand and little pulses of pre-cum had run down the shaft, gliding onto his oily hand. He sighed – the tissues in the kitchen beckoned, but by the time he’d fetched them the moment would be gone.

He resolved to get them – he could always rewind his fantasy and replay it to a juddering finale. He opened his eyes to get up and started. Staring down at him was a woman! He recognised her instantly, in spite of the blinding sun It was Mrs Sharpe, his mother’s golfing companion. Christ! He sat bolt upright of the lounger, placing his hands over his groin trying to hide his embarrassment.

‘Oh God, I’m sorry!’ was all he could find to say. In fact he said it over and over, not sure whether he was addressing her or saying it to himself. He looked up at her finally and was sickened to find she hadn’t moved at all. She stood there, six feet from him, with a look of utter disgust on her face.

He cast his face down again staring at the lounger, hoping the earth would swallow him up and end this appalling silence. Thankfully, his cock has collapsed faster than a burst balloon. but his boxers lay tantalisingly out of reach across the patio, under a chair.

Finally she spoke. ‘What the hell were you doing just now?’

‘I…. ..I….. I, nothing,’ was all that came from his lips. He stayed resolutely staring at the lounger.

‘Tell me what you were doing!’ She spat the words out with barely concealed contempt.

‘I was rubbing sun tan oil into my penis’ he whispered.

‘For five minutes - and into an erect penis!’ she scoffed. ‘Give me a break and tell me the truth.’

‘OK, so I was masturbating.’ He somehow found the courage to look up at her after saying this.

‘Oh were you – and thinking about what?’ she snapped back.

‘I…..I…..y’know, stuff, dirty stuff’ he cringed.

‘Tell me what, exactly’. She took a step towards him and now blocked out the sun from his face.

‘Oh, my girlfriend, screwing her, doing things to her, stuff like that.’

‘What kind of things?’

He looked up at her then back down to his legs and then up to his hands cupping the shrunken remains of his cock. ‘I was thinking about what it would be like to eat her out and about what her ass looked like. And what it would be like to fuck it’ he added.

There was a silence. Finally she spoke. ‘What would your mum and dad say if I told them what I’ve seen today?’ ‘At least you have been honest with me, which is something.’

She continued, ‘I need to think what to do about this and not take any rushed decisions. I’ll sleep on it and let you know tomorrow. Come and see me at 10 o’clock tomorrow morning and don’t be late.’

She looked down at him, huddled up trying to conceal his nakedness. ‘And for Christ’s sake, put these on and put yourself out of your misery.’ Saying this, she bent forwards, placed her arms under her skirt and pulled off her knickers. ‘Here, put these on quickly – I think you need them more than me right now.’ She tossed them to him and he stood up clutching his groin, turned away from her and pulled them on clumsily.

He felt absurd in the panties, but at least he had something to cover himself up. He turned round again to face her but she had vanished.

He heaved a huge sigh of relief and closed his eyes momentarily to blot out the nightmare of what had just occurred. Anxiety returned almost immediately and he crept up to the wall of the house and peered round it. He could see her walking down the drive, then she turned the corner and disappeared from view.

‘Oh shit!’ A wave of embarrassment flooded back over him as he recalled what he must have looked like, lying there pulling at his cock in the sunshine, with a look of ecstasy on his face. How long had she been there for? Why had she come round?

All his questions were pointless, the damage had been done. She had seen what she’d seen and he’d confessed to wanking in front of her. He blushed crimson at the thought of it.

Looking down he became conscious of his attire. ‘Oh Christ’ he groaned again. Her panties has served a purpose three minutes ago but now he felt totally ridiculous in them. He tore them off and tossed them onto the lounger.

What on earth was going to happen now? Would she confront his parents with what she had seen. His mind whirred with possibilities, all too horrendous to contemplate. He went to the kitchen to get another beer to drown his sorrows.

He paced up and down outside thinking furiously, contemplating leaving the country, suicide, anything to take him from this situation. Finally he decided to go indoors. He picked up his beer, suntan lotion, his book and, grudgingly, her panties and went upstairs to dress.

The afternoon passed in slow motion. He couldn’t concentrate on anything, couldn’t relax, couldn’t do anything.

His parents returned and for the first seconds after their arrival he was in an agony, half expecting them to already know what he’d been discovered doing and to be thrown out of the house. Everything was perfectly normal however, so at least it appeared that Mrs Sharpe was still contemplating her next action.

He would have to face her the next morning, apologise profusely and hope that she could bury his secret forever.

* * *

The next morning dawned clear, bright and full of the expectation of heat. Another glorious day, but what a difference twenty four hours makes. Andy, remembering the events of yesterday, became instantly awake and groaned.

So today was confront the bitch day, grovel to her and beg her silence.

He dressed in shorts, tee shirt and deck shoes, went downstairs and had breakfast. It was half past nine; his parents were long gone – off to air conditioned offices to miss out on the sun. He sat staring at his cup of tea, feeling a bit like he had done before his end of year exams. Butterflies roamed round his abdomen, churning his stomach into knots. He wanted to die.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out her panties. He had hidden them under his mattress when he had dressed yesterday. At one point in the night, when he found himself lying awake worrying, he had turned on the light and pulled them out from their hiding place. He had passed them between his hands feeling the texture. They were silky and, although black, slightly see through with a thicker opaque gusset running to the rear. The label indicated the manufacturer’s name and that they were small.

He had stretched them between his hands and even sniffed the gusset to see if they held any residual tell-tale odour. He almost felt a pang of disappointment when he discovered they didn’t.

Now, sitting at the table he sniffed them again – nothing. Looking closely at the panties in the daylight he could discern a narrow trace of lighter staining running for a couple of inches up the gusset material. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, he started to grow stiff.

He regained his senses and stuffing the panties into his pocket, gulped down his tea and headed for the door.

She had said not to be late so he walked the half mile to her house at some speed and stood outside. It was three minutes to ten.

The house was a detached brick construction, rather like his parents’ home. The drive led up to big, dark oak door. He swallowed, rehearsed his lines one last time and walked up the gravel drive.

Pressing the bell he heard a distant chime and then nothing. He waited, casting his mind back to other occasions he’d visited the house. Christmas parties when he was a boy, errands to bring packages from his mother, one summer when he’d cut the grass in the rear garden. Nothing quite measured up with the purpose of today’s visit.

Still no response to the bell. He waited half a minute, then rang again. Nothing. He contemplated leaving – after all he’d kept his part of the bargain. No he couldn’t, he needed to finish this thing off, not leave it hanging over him.

He tried the door – locked. He looked in through the window on the left hand side. The living room filled with arm chairs, sofas, pictures on walls, a big ornamental rug covering the wooden floor. All so familiar and yet, today, very disconcerting in its familiarity.

He glanced in through the right hand window - the dining room. Silent. He continued and rounded the corner of the house. The gate to the rear was slightly ajar. He knew his way round the garden, so after a moment’s hesitation he pushed the door open and went through.

Immediately behind the gate, lay the darkness created by the conifers that grew on this side of the house. After the brightness of the sun, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom. Still no sign of her. Perhaps she too was scared at the prospect of this encounter and had gone out.

He moved silently on to the rear of the house, following the path round through the trees. He stopped suddenly as he approached a low wall at the rear of the house. Lying on a sun bed on the lawn only fifteen feet away was Mrs Sharpe. She lay in the bright sunshine, wearing sunglasses and, at a casual glance, she could have been sunbathing.

She was wearing a cream floral dress and her shoes were kicked off to one side of the airbed. Her legs were spread slightly apart and bent at the knees. The bottom half of the floral dress was bunched up around her hips, effectively making her naked from the waist down.

Andy stopped like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. He didn’t know if he had been seen or not. He held his breath and stood motionless for what seemed like hours. She hadn’t seen him. He retreated behind the trunk of a conifer and peered round it toward the prostrate body.

Her head was thrown back, possibly gazing up at the clear blue sky, but with her dark glasses, Andy couldn’t tell whether her eyes were open or not. She certainly wasn’t asleep and she had moved. Her legs were wider apart now and her hands were busily engaged between them.

Andy’s mind raced. Was he meant to see this? Should he leave? She couldn’t have forgotten he was coming this morning. He had come expecting a balling out and a scene of total embarrassment. This had totally thrown him.

He grabbed the bark of the tree and bent his head to look at the figure of the patio. She was good looking for a woman in her mid forties he reckoned. A mass of jet black, probably dyed, hair, tanned face, dark red lips. Her figure, not something he had up till this moment considered, wasn’t bad either. She was quite petite but had long, slim elegant legs that matched her face for colour. Too many hours on the golf course with his mum, Andy grinned.

The most striking feature that caught Andy’s eye though was her pussy. It appeared as black and covered in hair as her head. The hair extended up over her pubis until it was lost in the folds of her dress below her navel.

To Andy this was a complete novelty. Most of the women he had encountered in his magazines and videos were either shaven between their legs or had a simple stripe of hair running up the centre of their pubis. Bryony had only sparse tufts of light blonde hair surrounding her vulva.

He watched transfixed as Mrs Sharpe’s fingers flitted over her pussy, rubbing and stroking, occasionally pulling at her labia. Apart from her busy hands, her body was motionless. Andy stayed watching as she continued to play with herself.

By now he had completely forgotten the reason for his visit and he found that his cock had grown to enormous proportions and was rubbing through the fabric of his shorts against the bark of the tree.

Mrs Sharpe continued to rub and caress herself. She occasionally moving a hand up to her chest to rub her nipple through the flowery fabric but her hand quickly returned to the dark area between her thighs.

Andy watched enraptured as she raised the pace of her fingers, the rubbing getting more frenetic. On a couple of occasions, she stuck her middle finger deep inside her pussy and gently moved it in and out.

By now she was starting to breathe heavily and Andy could see a thin sheen of perspiration appear on her neck and throat. She lifted her legs up to her chest, raising her bottom slightly into the air. Then she raised her right index finger to her mouth and sucked it, coating it in a thick layer of saliva.

She reached with her left hand round her ass and pulled the cheeks open to reveal more dark hair. At the same time, her right hand descended to her ass too, where her moistened finger sought out her tight hole and pushed its way inside. After a brief pause in this position she slowly started to move her finger in and out, occasionally taking her finger out to run it round the outside of the tight hole before returning it to its in and out motion.

By now she was panting and two small pools of moisture had gathered in the depressions of her collar bones. She pulled her finger from her ass and returned the attention of both hands to her dark pussy, rubbing frantically. Leaving her hands between her legs, she suddenly snapped her thighs shut and started to tremble.

She lay like that for a few seconds, overcome by the waves of her orgasm, shaking and panting before finally relaxing the grip of her thighs.

‘I reckon we are even now Andrew, don’t you?’ She spoke clearly and with the same air of authority she’d used the day before.

Andy snapped out of the trance he had existed in for the past few minutes but stood stock still and mute.

‘So what did you think of the show?’ she continued. She turned her head to face him and took off her sunglasses, squinting to adjust her eyes to the sudden brightness.

He stepped out from behind the tree, aware that she knew exactly where he was.

‘I’m sorry to play tricks on you, but I figured you needed to be taught a lesson and that you wouldn’t mind too much’. She smiled at him.

‘So, what did you think? Have you ever seen a woman masturbate before? It isn’t a treat reserved just for you boys, you know.’

She got up from the air bed. Andy noticed two blobs of wetness staining the material of the bed where her buttocks had been. He moved out of the shade and onto the patio, still not sure what to say.

‘Why don’t you sit down here and I’ll fix us a drink. You don’t think it’s a bit early for a gin and tonic do you?’

He sat down and, re-adjusting his now flaccid cock in his shorts, noticed his pocket contained the panties she had thrown to him the day before. He pulled them out and stared at them, thinking how stupid he must have been not to have recognised the signs when they stared him in the face. He consoled himself with the fact that she was his Mum’s best friend and that nothing like this had happened to him before.

He reflected on what he had just observed and felt himself grow stiff again.

‘If I can call you Andrew, you’d better call me Rachel’ she said brightly as she emerged from the house carrying two drinks.

So, back to my question Andrew, how did you like what you saw?’

He stared her in the eyes for the first time that day, ‘It was completely wonderful. I could watch you play with yourself all day.’

She grinned. ‘Excellent, so we have something in common because when I saw you pulling on your cock yesterday, I made up my mind that I was going to get very dirty with you. You have a lovely cock but I gather from what you were saying yesterday you may need some further education in pleasuring ladies. Am I right?’

‘Listen don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen you wanking and you’ve just seen me come. There are few secrets we can’t share’.

He became embarrassed again and said nothing.

‘You mentioned that you’ve never sucked a pussy – is that right?’

He stayed silent, enough indication for her that he hadn’t.

‘OK, Andrew, let’s run through your experience. Have you ever fucked a girl?’

‘Yes, of course’ he protested

‘Ever had sex with a man?’

He looked at her like she’d accused him of being an axe murderer.

‘I take that as a no then!’ she replied breezily.

‘Anal sex or oral sex? With a girl?’ she added hastily

‘No’

‘Bondage, domination, exhibitionism, whipping, troilism, watersports? Tried any of them? ‘ she asked pleasantly, taking a sip from her drink.

‘No – one or two of them I don’t even know what they mean’. He felt deflated at his lack of experience.

She on the other hand was positively beaming.