She popped open her robe and asked me to read what her panties declared. Fool was I, like I didn't know what the deal was, I did what she asked. I even pointed my finger at each word, like I was some dumb child who only learned words yesterday.
"It says here: 'If you're reading this, my husband said it's OK!'" I looked up at her and she stood gazing at me, all pretty-looking, smiling like I'd just passed the first test since she invited me into her home that morning. If I were still clueless as to what Mrs. Robinson wanted, I was so damn mistaken. I knew what she wanted, all right, and she knew that I knew, too. I could feel my John Thomas getting a lift-off in my jeans. But still I had to play it cool; I had to play it nice. Ain't like I'd done this type of shit before. How the fuck did I get myself into this whole mess, anyway?
A while ago, I was out in the yard trimming the Robinson's hedges. Her husband had paid me to do a good job, and I was hurrying so I could mow their front lawn and be done before noon. Then came Mrs. Robinson out on her patio, asking me if I'd care for some water to drink. On other occasion, I'd have declined. Except today, the sun was on damn high and mighty, and I was sweating like the Devil had me stewing on a barbecue grill. I swiped pools of sweat off my forehead, and said yeah, I'd sure love a tall glass of water, thank you very much.
She invited me into the kitchen. I did get me the glass of water, all right. But then she said something about me helping her move a heavy load in her bedroom. I've been in the Robinson's home a couple of times, but I ain't ever gone yonder past the living room and kitchen. Today was an exception. The house was big, and gorgeous-looking, too. Mr. Robinson came from old money, and his wife didn't have to work none at all. All she did was mind the kids and do whatever it is that pretty blonde wives do whenever they're alone. Who the fuck knows what that might be; ain't like I'm figuring to know.
At that hour, the kids were at school, so it was the two of us around. She wore herself a bathrobe that was kinda loose that I could make out her figure each time she turned towards me. I'd turn my eyes away, but for some reason, it's like she wanted me to look.
"You sure this is all right, Mrs. Robinson?" I asked as I trailed behind her while she led me up the stairs towards her bedroom. The whole time my eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything, like I ain't been in a big house before. I must have looked like a thief casing the joint.
"Sure, it's all right, Roy," she gave me that charming smile of hers. Her smile could light up a row of dead bulbs, I tell you. "It's very all right. I'm very gracious that you'd take the time to come and lend me a hand."
I shrugged. "Anything I can do to help," I said.
We made it into the bedroom, but there wasn't no big load that she wanted me to help her with. There wasn't nothing there, except the giant-sized bed that nearly filled the room. She led me to this giant bed and got me to sit down. That was when she opened her robe and asked me to read what was inscribed in her panties. Aside from her panties, she had on nothing else. Her tits stared at me like a pair of search lights. I was speechless beyond words.
"Mrs. Robinson, I don't . . . I don't think we ought to be doing this," I stuttered.
"Please, call me Elle," she let her robe fall from her shoulders. "Don't I look pretty, Roy?"
"Yeah . . . yeah, you for damn sure, do, Mrs. Rob—I mean, Elle."
"Good." She bent down and pulled her panties down to her ankles then stepped out of them. "I've been watching you for so long now. Seeing what a strong lad you are helping us whenever my husband calls you over. I think it's only right that I gave you back some hospitality besides money."
I wanted to stand up, but she shoved me back on the bed and told me to stay still. She fell to her knees, then her hands started working at undoing my belt buckle, and the top buttons of her jeans. The whole time, my JT kept wanted to burst out of my briefs. I couldn't do nothing except stay there and watch her.
She whipped my dick out, and gawked at it for a couple of seconds. The way she went on gazing at my dick, you'd have thought her eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. It was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. It got me wondering if she'd ever seen a big dick before. But then, who the fuck knew what stuff went on with her and her husband. I'm only saying that 'cos that's what her panties said, so don't you go judging me if you're reading this, you hear.
Don't get me wrong, I do love me getting a good dick-sucking. But this horny milf-bitch wasn't about that; she seemed to want to swallow me whole! She opened her mouth and choked on my rod like she wanted to rip it off. A few times I had to push her back somewhat, least she did me some mighty harm. But none of that dissuaded her none. She wanted what I had, and nothing was gonna stop or hold the bitch back. She did have a good tongue about her, though. It took me a while, but then I simply leaned back and watched her work her magic on me.
Mrs. Robinson did get to sucking me for a mighty long while. She slurped and choked and gurgled on my JT, until she figured that was enough, and came forward and sat on me. Her hand went to my rod and she pushed it right between her legs and inside her I went.
Let me tell you something: being inside a woman is the second greatest feeling a man can ever have! She came down on me easy-going, like she didn't want to hurt the merchandise. But once she got settled and started moving them slender hips of hers, it was like we was on a rocket heading off to the moon. She just kept a-rocking and a-rocking, like she didn't want to come down no more. I got my hands busy, holding onto her waist, praying she didn't get to lost in her fun and then tumble off me. Not that she ever did, but you never know sometimes.
I got to enjoying the ride, too. The rich bitch's pussy was way too tight, but we fixed that in no time. She went into a hollering frenzy and began mouthing off like she didn't fucking care where we were. Her pussy done swallowed me halfway and I was milking that pussy like the bitch owed me some money.
She fanned her head right to left and the left to right, the whole time whipping a mountain-load of curse words like she'd done lost her slutty mind.
"Aaahhhh yes! Yes . . . fuck me, Roy! Give it to me! Fucking give it to me!"
