Marianne Fucs Chapter 6

One afternoon, a couple of weeks after the group 'punishment' in the changing rooms and after James's stellar performance for the ladies of the Aquarobics Group, I was at my counter - I think I was actually folding towels - and I could see a lad who looked a lot like Martin from the 'punishment' lurking around in the foyer of the pool.

He was sitting over by the window, scrolling through his phone, looking out at the car park, glancing over at me every once in a while. I wondered what he was up to. And as I wondered -- having a photographic memory for young men's cocks -- I remembered his. How perfect it was. And what a hot connection we had. I said at the time that he was my favourite among the Swimming Pool Five and he was the only one I kissed. So young. So cute. So innocent... well, except when he was coating an old lady's mouth with his hot young sperm.

Anyway, after about half an hour of this shady behaviour, I called him over. 'Martin, isn't it?' I started in, knowing full well it was.

'Yes, Miss,' he answered, blushing already.

'What are you doing hanging around here? Are you waiting for someone? Have you been stood up?'

'No, Miss... I... I...'

Bless him. So nervous he couldn't even get out what he wanted to say to me.

'Go on...' I encouraged, kindly.

'I needed to ask you something but it's a bit... I don't know... weird?'

'Oh, I like weird,' I chuckled. Surely he knew that by now. 'What is it?'

'I wanted to ask if...' He was looking everywhere but at me. 'If you'd let me fuck you?' At which his whole face burned red and I think mine did too.

I let it sink in a bit but just as I thought he was going to run away out of sheer embarrassment, I repeated. 'You want me to let you fuck me? Me a woman in her late sixties and you... How old are you again?'

I remembered exactly how old he was but I let him say, 'Nineteen Miss.'

So, I'm 50 years older than this lad and yet he still wants to fuck me, I thought to myself. I know it's not because I'm that stunning -- I'm alright looking but even at Martin's age, I doubt he ever would have looked at me twice - but I must have something if a young man as good looking as this wants that from me.

'You see...' and he looked around, as if to check there was no one could hear him as he said it, 'it would be my first time.' By now the blush was heading from his face down his neck to his smooth chest that I could see through the open buttons of his shirt.

'If it's your first time,' I said, discreetly, not wanting to cause him any embarrassment, 'don't you want to do it with a girl your own age, someone you're in a relationship with, someone maybe...?'

'I want to do it with you, Miss,' he interrupted, looking me in the eye for once so I could tell he was serious. I let it hang there for a moment, not because my vagina was tingling at the idea of this gorgeous young man wanting to fuck me, but because I wanted to savour it, savour the expectation.

'I'll need to see ID,' I said, almost as a joke, but actually, he did look young and even if he was at University, maybe he was one of those who made it in early. It wouldn't hurt to be sure. He fumbled in his bag -- I noticed he'd brought his kit -- pulled out a wallet, riffled through it and found a driver's licence. There he was, cute little bleached out face on the card and a date of birth that proved, yes, he was a full 50 years younger than me at 19.

'Well, I'd like to think about it,' I said, knowing that I didn't need to think about it but wanting to make him want it even more than he clearly already did. 'Why don't you go in and have a swim and by the time you're finished, I'll be just about ready to close up and we can discuss...? How does that sound?'

'Yes, Miss,' he said, relieved not to have received a flat, outraged 'no'. 'That sounds great Miss. I'll see you in about an hour.'

It was the longest but hottest hour of my life, the idea that I was going to have that gorgeous cock -- the one I'd enjoyed so much a couple of weeks ago, a cock so young and unblemished and beautiful -- inside of me. I could still actually remember the taste of his sperm, though that would probably not end up in my mouth tonight... not at first, anyway.

As it got towards closing time, I went into the ladies' changing room, did a couple of, 'Come on now, ladies, it's that time,' just to get the slow coaches moving. Then knocked on the men's changing room and shouted in the door, 'Time gentlemen, please!' It seemed to work: a few stragglers came out, said their goodnights until the only person I hadn't seen was Martin.

Having locked the main doors and turned out the lobby lights, I went into the men's changing room and locked the door behind me -- you wouldn't believe the size of the ring of keys I have to carry around with me. It was all quiet in there apart from the sound of a shower across the changing room. I walked towards it, noticing a pile of clothes and a pair of yellow Speedos hanging on the hook. I stopped to check the Speedos and Martin had done a lovely job of removing the lining: really neat snipping. I wished I'd seen him wearing them but assumed there would be other opportunities for that.

When I got to the showers -- they're open so there's none of the privacy of individual cubicles... well, it's an old pool -- I could see, with his back turned to me, Martin soaping himself down, his hands darting under his arms, under his balls, in his arse crack, his head under the water at all times. As he started to turn, I could see that his beautiful cock was already semi-erect, maybe from the washing, maybe from the thought of what he was hoping to be doing with it within a few minutes.

'Don't wash all the smell off it,' I said, smiling, giving him a start.

'Oh, sorry Miss...' he said, not realising that I was joking. 'I just wanted to be really clean for you.'

'You'll do,' I said, picking up his towel from the hook at the entrance to the showers. He walked towards me looking delicious with the water making his body shine, his cock bouncing in front of him, his balls smooth and spongy, what little pubic hair he had had now gone, his eyes turned to the floor. When he reached me, instead of handing him the towel, I started to dry him. First his shoulders, then, spinning him, his back and his gorgous meaty buttocks, then -- 'arms up!' -- his armpits, which made him squirm with ticklishness. When I turned him back round to dry his chest, his cock was sticking out horizontally so it grazed my belly. I pretended not to notice and just dried his body.

Then, crouching down -- so glad I did all those years of yoga so I can crouch pretty easily, even at my age -- I started to dry his calves, his thighs... obviously with his cock throbbing with the blood coursing into it, right there at face level. I couldn't resist taking the head in my mouth at which I heard an under-the-breath 'fuuuuck' and felt Martin's hands take the back of my head. Since this wasn't a 'punishment', he was obviously allowed to do this and it felt good having that long thick cock slid into my mouth and out again, going deep each time until I opened my throat and allowed him all the way in until my nose was right up against his freshly shaven pubic area. I could feel the smooth balls on my chin as my eyes began to water and his strokes became more urgent.

Pulling myself off him with a gasp, I licked the length of his cock, licked his balls, licked all around his cock while my hand up between his legs was drawing him towards me by his arse. Pushing his legs further apart with my knees, I worked the throbbing perineum and, with my finger, found his little hole, circling it as he moaned softly.

Getting back to my feet, I looked around and saw that he'd made a little nest on one of the changing benches with clean towels. Sweet! I took him by his penis and led him across the changing room to the nest and sat him down, his cock sticking straight up against his belly.

'Now, you're sure you want to do this?' I asked, stroking his face with my hand.

'Yes, Miss,' he said, blushing. 'I really want to do this.'

He looked so shy and sweet, I leaned forward and kissed his forehead, then his cheek, then his mouth. He took the back of my head and held my mouth against his, opening against me and pressing his tongue into me. For someone who had never had sex, he was an excellent kisser, his tongue just the right combination of urgent and relaxed. The kiss went on for minutes while I reached down and, using precum that was leaking from his cock, started to massage it, causing him to jump when I hit a particularly sensitive spot.

Pushing him back on the towels so he was on his back and looking up at me, I raised the skirt of my work overall, ripped the seam of my tights and fished inside to push my knickers to one side. As this was all unexpected, I didn't want to get naked as I hadn't tidied myself up down there. Straddling his hips on my knees, I reached back to grasp his cock and guided it through the hole in my tights to the lips of my vagina and simply rubbed it backwards and forwards along the slit, using his precum as lubricant. He threw his head back, mouthed a silent 'fuck' and grabbed me by the hips.

I carried on doing this for a while, seeing as it felt so sensual not only for him but for me. To think I'd been having sex with a husband I found in no way attractive for years and here I was, late 60s, with the most beautiful lad I'd seen in ages begging for me to let him fuck me. With my eyes wide open looking at his face in ecstasy, one hand on his nipples, which I'd noticed were particularly sensitive, I guided his cock and slowly took it inside me. He groaned.

'I never...' he gasped. 'I never imagined it would feel so good to be in a woman's pussy. Thank you, Miss.' I was slowly rising and falling on his cock, feeling the full beautiful length of it inside me, but I could feel his hips thrusting so I rose a bit and let him slide in and out on his own. It was slow but urgent and, pulling him out of me, I laid back next to him and said, 'You'll find it more satisfying on top.' So, standing between my legs, his cock dripping with precum and my juices (I may be old, but I never lost my ability to juice), he took me by the backs of my knees -- 'Is that comfortable, Miss?' -- and redirected himself back through the hole in my tights to my greedy vagina.

In this position, looking me squarely in the eyes looking for reassurance, his face sweating and his hair sticky, he moved in and out of me, building speed, his smooth balls slapping against me, my vagina sensitive to every bit of his cock. He was moaning and biting his lips and I couldn't help but join him, gasping every time his cock hit home.

'Can I...' he started to ask a question while still sliding in and out of me. 'Can I... cum inside you, Miss?' he asked after a few moments of this. 'Of course you can, sweetheart,' I answered, at which I felt his arse clench, his cock go as deep into me as it could and watched the sweet release on his beautiful face. And there was a lot. I felt his cock pumping and pumping and pumping until, all of his sperm now inside me, he slowly pulled out jumping from the shocks to his extra sensitive cock as he did.

I sat up, already feeling that warm sticky sperm dripping out of me, reached forward, took his now deflating cock in my hand and guided it to my mouth, just so he could enjoy those last few moments of ecstasy. Eventually, exhausted, he sat down next to me, breathing heavily, his cock finally going down. He seemed thoughtful, sad almost.

'Are you OK, Martin? Was that alright?'

'Miss, it was so beautiful,' he said, looking at me with a smile. 'I never knew it would feel so nice... You'll always be my first now.'