I'd been living with my rich aunt & uncle for around a year now, as their house was in the same city as the university I was attending.
Being well-off they employed a part-time housekeeper called Florence. Now Flo is one of those people you pass in the street without really noticing: she looks in her mid to late 50s, about 5'5", quite chubby with huge tits and a big round belly and arse, supported by wide "child-bearing" hips and thighs. She is still reasonably attractive in a lived-in, wrinkly-faced kind of way with "pepper and salt" grey/silver/black hair.
As she also has mischievous blue eyes, a wicked smile and an infectious laugh people warm to her very quickly. For my part the fact that she treated me as an adult from day one guaranteed that I would get on with her. As she did not tone down her very dirty sense of humour the banter and innuendo soon begun to bounce between us.
The one drawback to my living with my aunt and uncle was that I couldn't really bring fellow female students home and disappear into my room for anything remotely sexual. As the academic year went on this restriction was causing me so much anguish I was even contemplating ways and means of telling my relatives that I needed to move into an apartment for the following year - and god knows how well that would go down with them and my parents.
As a result of this sexual desert I frequently had to resort to the use of Mrs. Hand and her five little daughters.
Although initially I jerked off to the image of a classmate called Stephanie, this slowly changed to a fantasy regarding Flo. I had recently, accidentally caught a glimpse of her meaty thighs and a pair of large black knickers stretched across her big round arse, when she had been kneeling, cleaning a set of stairs. This was such a surprisingly shocking turn on that I found I had to frequently wank (jerk off) furiously at the thought of my tongue and dick wallowing in the taste, smell and heat of her hairy, soaking pussy. (For some reason I only imagined her to be very hairy - you know, the thick, almost impenetrable bush which starts on the mons and continues right round up into the crack of her arse)
It's amazing how a chance remark can change the course of a relationship isn't it?
As she was at least thirty-something years older than me, happily married (I thought) and with 4 kids all older than me, I was convinced that, despite my increasing and seemingly irrational desire, I could never engineer a situation where my strange fantasy could come true, so I resigned myself to trying to get the odd surreptitious glimpse up her dress or skirt to keep the fantasy fresh.
At least we had the banter...
So, the next time she was polishing the brass stair risers I hung around hoping I'd catch another glimpse up her skirt, as it inevitably rode up at the back as she polished when she was on her knees. Eventually as she bent forward the tops of her thighs and the dark area in between eased into view...
"Hey, Flo."
"Yeah?"
"Do you realise I can see your knickers - right up to your gusset?"
"You dirty young bugger," she cried, but grinning. "You shouldn't be peeking at a lady's underwear."
"Why not?" I retorted. "You've got a beautiful arse - it's a pity you haven't got stockings on - now that would be serious turn-on. A man could get lost in there - or really have some fun."
With that, she quickly stood up, turned round and bounced down the stairs, tits jiggling, and came at me with a feather duster. Easily dodging this attack I raced out of the room laughing.
The following day the banter was just as good as ever at breakfast, and after a few extra "Peeping Tom" comments from Flo I went upstairs to get ready to go out on a few not very urgent errands.
As I came out of my room some 20 minutes later I saw Flo kneeling on one of the stairs up to the attic, studiously cleaning (or so I thought).
Thinking that she was oblivious to my presence I stood still watching her, the motion of her skirt as each arse cheek tightened and relaxed in turn with her to and fro motion, and the wispy sound of her skirt rubbing against what I thought were black tights was incredibly sensual. Within a few seconds, as she leant forward her skirt rode up another couple of inches to reveal an expanse of white thigh and some delicate looking silky black knickers framed by suspenders holding up her black...Jesus...stockings...NOT TIGHTS..
As quick as I could register this beautiful view my cock shot rigidly to attention, and I must have groaned or sighed out loud because she murmured, "Well... You wanted stockings. Are you all talk, or what..."
