My Pleasure Palace Or How It All Began

Firstly, let me set the scene. I inherited the house from my late husband when he passed away three years ago. He was in the construction industry and had built the house for us both, twenty-five years ago. It is spacious, with four bedrooms, all en suit and, and as I have since found out, to my delight, has a few hidden extras.

My name is Carol and I am 52 years of age. I am, although I say it myself, well preserved physically, although carrying a little excess 'baggage', which I wage a near – constant war against at the local gym. I am, thanks to my late husband, fairly well off financially, and can afford to treat myself regularly.

Back to the house and the situation that I find myself in. After going through my late husband's effects, in order to get rid of it all, I was checking documents and assorted paperwork, when I came across a sealed envelope with my name on it. I opened it with some trepidation, not knowing what it could contain.

It started out as a sort of confession, explaining that he had built a secret room on the second floor, which was between the two largest bedrooms, the entrance to which was behind the large bookcase in our bedroom. The key was taped to the letter. He confessed to having used this room to watch our guests, and me, at different times during our marriage, and to making records of the various, intimate goings on that occurred. The letter ended with an apology for not letting me in on the secret, but to make the most of it like he had done.

It was with some excitement that I took the stairs to the bedroom. I had used and passed this bookcase for years and never suspected that it hid a concealed entrance to heaven knew what. On close inspection, and following instructions in the letter, I located, behind some fake books on the lower shelf, second from the bottom, a keyhole and latch mechanism. I gingerly placed the key in the hole and slowly turned it. There was a soft click as the lock turned. I lifted the latch and pulled the bookcase open. It moved very easily considering that it was six feet tall, at least the same wide and about a foot deep. I was stood in front of a smaller than normal, plain door with a recessed latch, similar to a cabinet fitting. I pulled it out and gave it a twist. The door opened into a dark space. Without entering, I felt for a light switch. Finding it, I flicked it on and was amazed to see a fairly large room, well appointed with carpet, office style furniture and work type benches loaded with what looked like a computer and various items of recording equipment.

My senses where in overload as I began to take in the array of hardware which filled one side of the room. It almost resembled a TV studio. There was a note lying on the work surface.

It read. "If you are reading this, you have found my letter."

It went on to explain how to operate the equipment and what it in fact was. There were storage cabinets, which contained all manner of tapes, and CDs etc. The most intriguing thing that I noticed was that there was a whole shelf dedicated to me! The shelf just had a marker on it, which said Carol, nothing else. Other shelves had other names on them, my sister, my mother our friends and numerous other people who had stayed here over the years.

It was late in the evening by the time I had found all this and resolved that as the following day was a Saturday, that I would spend the weekend trying to discover what sort of man I had spent the last twenty five years of my life with.

I found it difficult to sleep that night. My mind was in turmoil of different emotions. When my husband was alive we had always enjoyed a regular, if quite normal sex life. There was no swinging parties or open marriage type goings on – quite boring really. On the occasions that my late husband was away on business, all that I did for company was to invite a few of our mutual friends around for an evening meal. Usually I would eat early, have a luxurious soak in the hot tub and have an early night, and if the fancy took me and I was feeling particularly 'sexy', I would entertain myself with one or other of my 'toys'.

I woke early and had a light breakfast, after which I returned to 'the room'. Firstly I powered up the hardware and re-read the instructions that I had found the previous evening. I was surprised to find that there were discreet cameras sited in both the adjoining bedrooms. This would explain the large collection of tapes and CDs in the cabinet next to me. I was intrigued with the shelf with my name on it, so I chose the disc to the left and marked with the oldest date (2 years ago). I placed it in the player and was surprised at the picture quality. The scene was our bedroom with me moving around, wearing a dressing gown. It felt spooky watching myself and found myself looking over my shoulder occasionally as if I was afraid of being caught 'snooping'.

Not to go into too much detail, the disc contained nothing more than me changing for bed, after having a shower. I can only assume that Alex had been away on business, as he did not figure at all on the disc. The others contained similar fare, except on a few occasions, there were ones showing me in my more pleasurable moments. During the course of the weekend I selected other recordings of family members and various visitors. All I will say is that my late mother was far more adventurous between the sheets than either my sister or I. Our friends certainly enjoyed themselves while they stayed with us. After viewing a good selection of the material, I found myself 'warming' to the task, and I mean 'warming'. This whole thing was making me as horny as hell.

There were revelations that opened my eyes, and I could see why Alex had found this all very much a turn on, even if it had all been of his own doing. The thing that I found most strange was that I was finding it a thrill watching all this and was enjoying the fact that it was all secretly filmed. Perhaps I had been a voyeur all along and had not realised it. I now regretted that Alex had not shared his secret with me.

All this occurred nearly two and a half years ago. Since then I have turned the house into a boarding house in order to keep the running costs down. I have an arrangement with the local college and most of my boarders are students. This means that I only have to have them during term time, so I have the freedom and an empty house during the holiday periods.

My life took a change for the better, on a physical level, not long after I started to board for the first time. One of the first students to arrive was Greg (name changed), a tall, dark, athletic young man of about 18 years. He was studying law, but spent most of his time around the gym and sports facility. When he first arrived he introduced himself and we politely shook hands. I said that he could call me Carol. There was very little eye contact from him, as I noticed that his gaze was fixed on my cleavage, which was, due to the cut of my top, more obvious than I usually like it to be. The fact that he was staring at it, at nearly every opportunity, gave me a small thrill. It suddenly dawned on me that I could do some observing of my own.

After showing Greg to his room I informed him of the house rules and meal timings etc. After finding out his food preferences I left him to unpack and settle in. Meanwhile I busied myself in 'the room' sorting hurriedly through piles of discs hoping to find a blank one with which to make my first recording. Getting used to the computer was the hard thing, and I vowed to myself that I would master it at the earliest opportunity. Finding the software icon I double clicked it and in a flash the screen was filled with two bedrooms. One I recognised as my own, the other was Greg's. By pure luck I double clicked Greg's room and it now filled the whole screen.

The excitement that I felt, watching Greg unpack and going about his normal business of settling in, surprised me. My senses were to say the least, acute. I watched as he tested the bed for softness and removed his shoes and lay down for a moment. He reached into the bedside table for a paperback book, which he placed next to his alarm clock. He then went to the door and locked it. He then proceeded to retrieve a shirt and pants from one of the drawers in the chest and place them on the bed. Next to them he placed a large bath towel and a small hold all.

My heart skipped a beat as he removed his socks, polo shirt and jeans. He stood there with just the skimpiest pair of briefs on. Men's underwear had certainly changed from what Alex used to wear! Greg was certainly well muscled and tanned. He was well equipped in the other muscle department too. The clear outline of his cock, as it lay, curled across the front of his briefs, left nothing to the imagination. He threw the towel over his shoulder and picked up the hold all from the bed and went in the direction of the shower. Surely there must be a camera in the bathroom? I asked myself. I scanned the on screen controls for a clue. I found two buttons, b/room 1 and b/room 2.

I hit the bathroom 1 button and to my relief there was Greg, adjusting the shower controls. He stood back from the shower and bent over, removing his briefs as he did so. By this time I could hear my pulse pounding in my temples. My pussy was tingling with anticipation and I could feel my erect nipples rubbing against the insides of my bra. I had not felt like this in a long time. Greg stood there feeling the temperature of the water and once satisfied, stood under the spray. He certainly looked impressive. Not an ounce of fat on his well toned body. I watched fascinated, as his plump cock swayed from side to side as he moved. He began to soap himself with shower jell. His head and upper body were covered in lather. After rinsing this off he applied more to his legs and lower torso. He applied jell to the small amount of pubic hair that he had and began to massage it in and around his cock and balls.

Almost instantly his cock began to stiffen and grow in length. I watched, mesmerised, as it straightened and then began to arc upwards towards the ceiling. Greg's hand formed a fist around it and began to stroke the soap along its shaft. The engorged head of his cock, plus another two or three inches, protruded from the top of his fist in a very sexy way. Every time he pulled on it, he held it like that for a few seconds and then repeated the movement. Each time the head became larger and more red in colour.

I had never watched a man pleasure himself before, and I found myself squirming in my seat, unable to rid my pussy of the itch that was there. My left hand was cupping and squeezing my left breast. I had never felt this horny before. As Greg continued to stroke himself, he leaned back against the shower wall and thrust his hips forward. This took me to the point of no return. My top was open in a flash and my bra cups pulled up over my breasts. They are 36 Cs so there was a lot of foundation material to get out of the way. I looked down at my nipples. They had never felt this sensitive, nor had they been this large before. I was amazed at how distended they had become. I jumped as I teased them with my fingertips, tracing around the crinkly outer edges and finishing with the hypersensitive tips. I was in heaven.

Greg's eyes were closed now as his hand moved faster up and down the length of his glistening cock. He still maintained the delay in the stroking, which I found a huge turn on. My hand, had by this time, found it's way under my skirt and two eager fingers had pulled the panties aside and were now teasing the folds of my very moist pussy. My feet were now on the worktop, knees spread and pussy agape. I was afraid to touch my clitoris, as I was so close to orgasm. I so wanted my orgasm to arrive at the same time as Greg's. I need not have worried. Almost without warning Greg's cock began to spurt. As the first string of semen left his cock, my own orgasm overtook me. I had not even touched myself there. My knees clamped shut by themselves in order to intensify the already heavenly spasms that filled me and were making my body convulse so.

I hurriedly adjusted my clothing and freshened myself up and went to the kitchen. Luckily I had already prepared the evening meal and had nearly everything ready when Greg came down for dinner. I felt slightly self-conscious knowing that I had been spying on Greg and found it difficult to make eye contact with him during dinner. I was convinced that he would find me out. I noticed him ogling my cleavage during the meal though and was guilty of leaning over the table when collecting the plates and serving up the dessert in order to tease him.

After dinner Greg excused himself saying that he needed to prepare paperwork for his arrival at college the next day. It would take him a few hours and would it be OK for him to come down when he needed to make himself a coffee. I replied in the affirmative and he went on his way upstairs. I was feeling 'hot' watching him cross the room, knowing that he obviously found my breasts attractive. My teasing him had turned me on. I filled the dishwasher and tidied the kitchen and was soon lured to 'the room' again.

I entered as quietly as I could and settled down to watch Greg. He was a naughty boy. He should have been preparing for college. Instead he was preparing to play with himself again. Oh the stamina of youth. He was lying on the bed with his pants around his knees. He was toying with his semi erect cock while he flicked through a glossy magazine. I made a mental note to see where he kept it. He soon had his cock fully erect and was pumping it up and down. He seemed to be in a hurry as he quickly turned the pages. He then stood up and crossed the bedroom towards the bathroom and stood in front of the toilet. After a few seconds he ejaculated into the bowl. I was surprised to see that there was so much, considering his earlier efforts in the shower. This was not helping my already horny state. I had not even had time to join in before Greg had finished. I resolved to deal with things at bedtime, if I could wait that long.

I changed out of my clothes but kept my underwear on. I slipped a dressing gown on and went to the kitchen to make a coffee. Passing Greg's room, I asked if he would like one. I heard him cough and he replied yes. I enquired if he would like it brought to his room, or would he be coming down. He said that he would be down for it. I prepared the mugs and made the coffee, leaving the sugar for Greg to deal with. I headed for the sofa and turned the TV on for the local news. After five minutes I heard Greg coming down the stairs. He entered wearing tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off.

"The coffee is on the worktop, help yourself to sugar" I said as he entered the lounge. He had a surprised expression on his face as he looked across to where I sat. I suddenly realised that I was in my dressing gown and felt very self-conscious. I curled my feet up under me and drew the top of my dressing gown together. I should not have bothered as it was made of silk and the outline of what was underneath was there for all to see. The flimsy silk and the thin material of my bra did nothing to conceal the fact that my large nipples were at attention due to my heightened sexual state. I did my best to keep my arms firmly close to my breasts in order to hide my aroused state. Greg sat down in the armchair next to the sofa, which, from my point of view, was preferable to him being sat opposite me.

I enquired how his paperwork was coming along, if only to see his reaction.

"OK, nearly finished in fact."

I of course knew differently. The news was finished and a documentary had started on horse racing. I was interested in horseback riding, so I watched, trying to take my mind off the subject of sex. If only I had known what the programme was to contain, I would not have bothered, especially with Greg sat in the same room. The programme moved onto the racing stud and began to graphically show mares being served by stallions. I felt myself colouring up and unable to speak. The size and the black colour of the stallions' members made me squirm in my seat. The accompanying noises made by the mares did nothing to help my embarrassment.

On hearing the commentary that stallions could serve around six mares a day, Greg was the first to speak.

"Lucky old stallion, that's what I say."

Surprised at Greg's comment, but feeling relieved that he had broken the ice, I said.

"Lucky old mares, that's what I say." I said, smiling in his direction.

"From the mares' point of view, there is no foreplay."

"You may have a point Greg." I said, sipping my coffee and watching a groom inserting a stallion's cock into the anxious looking mare.

Greg was eyeing me with some interest as I fidgeted and sat now with my feet on the floor. Sitting with my feet under me only brought my thighs tightly together and was making me hotter. As an excuse to remove myself from the situation, I asked Greg if he would like a cookie with his coffee.

"Yes please, do you have any chocolate fingers?" He replied with a knowing grin.

"No, but I may have some strawberry splits though." I managed to respond, without too much of a tremor in my voice. This is starting to develop into a game of cat and mouse I thought. I was aware of Greg's stare as I reached into the cupboard for the cookies. He was watching me, or I should say, my jiggling breasts as I returned with the cookie jar and set it down on the small table next to his armchair. I felt very self-conscious as he just looked at me and smiled.

"Thanks Carol."

He picked a cookie from the jar and held it sideways, licking the filling from it with the tip of his tongue, all the time looking at me with a smug grin on his face. He was full of self-confidence, give him that. I chose this moment to take my leave and say that I was off to bed. He looked a little crestfallen as I left my mug on the worktop.

"Feel free to watch the TV as long as you turn it off when you have finished."

"I shan't be very long Carol, just until I finish my coffee and a few more of these delicious cookies." He emphasised the point by running the tip of his tongue up the centre of another cookie, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I could not get to my bedroom fast enough. There was definitely an electric atmosphere that one could cut with a knife. The sight of the copulating horses and the sexual innuendo had made me wet, and I needed relief. After slipping the catch on the door, I opened the 'room' and turned out the light in the bedroom. On hearing Greg's bedroom door close, I settled down for what I was sure, to be at least 30 minutes of entertainment. I was sure that Greg was as horny as I was. I was not disappointed. Greg wasted no time in undressing when he entered his room. His long stiff cock sprang up after being released by the waistband of his sweat pants. I began to lust after this beautifully sculpted cock with it's slightly upward curving shape, it's ridges and veins, but most of all it's fat bulbous head, shiny and almost purple in colour. I had quite forgotten how rigid a young virile cock could be.

Greg reached for the drawer in his bedside cabinet and removed a pot of gel. I watched, fascinated as he dipped two fingers into the contents and began to lightly apply the shiny lotion all over the surface of his up stretched cock, paying particular attention to the swollen head. I, for my part needed no such help. I was very well lubricated indeed. My adept finger made an initial foray into the outer folds of my pussy, to confirm what I knew already. I wanted to delay my climax for as long as possible.

As I settled down for my entertainment, I was surprised to see Greg put on his dressing gown. His still erect cock tented the front and forced its way through and out of the gap at the front, even though the waist cord had been tied. Greg closed the gown over it and stepped towards the door of his room. I quickly stood up and entered my room, closing the bookcase behind me. There was a soft tapping on the door.