I am from a non English speaking country and so please don't mind my English. So here goes:
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I feel man was made to give pleasure to a woman and one of the best ways to make a woman happy was to service her ass. This thought occurs to me whenever I see Jennifer May's beautiful ass. Nothing unusual except that she's is older to me - she being about 40 and me 24, she's my landlady and a shrew one at that. Mr. May had left her about 4 years back for a younger woman, whom he met, of all the places, in the underground tube.
Mrs. May, although sexy, was choleric in nature. Her behavior was most unpredictable. Everyone around feared her. Probably this was the reason for her hubby to elope. After his departure she became even more acrimonious. But I found her very sexy indeed. Her ass was her best asset - not firm but fleshy and kneadable. She wasn't a bit fat, but for a woman of her age she was having the best-rounded features. Her tits were big and juicy. I bet men would have left everything to get a piece of her, if not for her incensed behavior. I sometimes resented for having taken this room because of her acidic tongue. But with my allowance this was the cheapest and the closest room I could get near my college.
A number of times, the thought of changing the room appeared to me, but the distant prospect of bedding Mrs. May put all those thoughts to the back burner. I tried to get close to her by talking to her whenever she appeared calm, but usually left being scolded for one thing or another. A couple of times like this and my mind was made to possess her at whatever cost. But with all the tricks in the book seeming to fail, I finally posted my problem on an Internet community site for help in trying to get Mrs. May somehow to the bed. I wrote about all our encounters and the tricks that I had tried and the humiliation that I received. I prayed for some good response.
The e-mails dropped in by the lots. But most of them were aimed at telling me to leave Mrs. May alone and find anybody else. Oh, if only they had seen Mrs. May! One particular letter caught my attention. For it said that if I was serious and would go to any lengths, it could offer some instructions. I e-mailed back saying I was dying to bed Mrs. May and would do anything for that, come what may. I waited for the reply. The unnamed savior replied with instructions on how to get going.
"First try to attract her by showing your body as much as possible. Then make some slight overtures. Talk lovingly to her and get her to wind down as much as possible. Then make the kill. If she still turns you down, strip completely and act forcibly, but gently. This should get it done. Finally after everything, don't forget to give her one long deep kiss. E-mail back whether it works or not."
I planned out the event for the coming weekend. Although the forcing part made me a little nervous, but as I said I'd do anything for getting Mrs. May, I decided to take the chance. I prayed everything would go out fine.
Saturday came. I knew Mrs. May would be on the terrace tendering to her small terrace-garden. So I positioned myself out in the open yard as if repairing my vehicle. I had only my shorts and sneakers on. My whole body was glistening in the morning sunlight. I could see Mrs. May glancing at me from the terrace. Goal 1. Yes, it could work. After an hour or so of acting, I went inside the house when I couldn't spot Mrs. May on the terrace anymore. She was seated on the sofa reading some mag. I looked at her and said something about the weather being hot. She looked up at me and spat out "So what?" She was looking at my body, but immediately returned to her mag, may be as if not to get aroused. I went up the stairs to my room and knew for sure that Mrs. May's eyes would be following me now. Good work, I patted myself.
Evening came and I took downstairs a bottle of some old port wine. I found her in front of the telly. She was wearing a loose top and a knee-length skirt. I was really aroused by her sight and the thought of my plans to seduce her.
"Would you care for some wine Mrs. May? I am celebrating sorts of," I said.
"For what?" she snapped.
"Well, I've been selected as the college athletic team captain you see."
She just thought about for a while and before she could answer it I poured out a little and handed over the glass to her. She looked sharply at me and took the glass. She drank in some and felt somewhat strange. Well it had to be. The wine was very old and had become somewhat pungent and had a heady aroma now. Still she emptied the glass and kept it on the table. I again filled it and handed it over to her. She took it. Perhaps the wine was making her wind down.
"With your body, you surely deserve that," she said surprising me completely that she had spoken about my body. She fell silent and probably she felt she shouldn't have told that. I could not leave it like that and asked her whether she too played during her college days.
