Yvonne Pt 02

Five years passed before I saw her again, but not one day passed when I did not think of her, at least for a few moments. I went to university and studied and had girlfriends and gained more experience, of life and sex and maybe even love, but the memory of her and the desire for her was always there. I never went back to live in my hometown, but I went back to visit family and friends every now and then. It was about a year after I had finished university that I decided to visit her. I was twenty-three. That would make her forty-seven.

I don't know why, but suddenly I could not get her out of my mind and one night the desire to see her became overwhelming. I was half drunk and lying in bed trying to sleep. My prick became erect immediately, and before I really knew what I was doing I was masturbating and imaging her seducing me. After that I could not get her out of my mind.

I decided to go and visit my parents and while I was there I would drop by and see her. I went to call at the house, ostensibly to look Neil up, but really to see her. I had heard that he had moved out and I went in the middle of the afternoon, when I thought that she would be alone. I was terribly nervous as I walked the streets that led to her house.

Finally I reached her street and then her house. My fear had risen with every step, but I made myself just walk up the path to the door and knock. I was just a young guy back from college visiting and friend and she was just his mum.

No one came; no one was home.

I turned dejected. My wild fantasy reached its inevitable conclusion. She was not home. It seemed like fate. I had to let go. It was no more than a memory that I desired. I wouldn't try again.

I was supposed to be around for a few more days, and I almost made my excuses and returned to London early, but in the end I stayed. I didn't want to disappoint my parents. It was as well that they did not know the real reason that had brought me there.

A couple of days later I was shopping at the local hypermarket and suddenly there she was. We recognized each other immediately. It seemed like a miracle. Fate had changed its mind.

We exchanged greetings and each of us asked how the other was. It was warm and easy and there was even a frisson. She was clearly pleased to see me. Then she asked

'Did you come to the house the other day?'

I paused for a second before saying 'yes.'

My neighbour told me someone called, and described you. I knew who it was straight away. I'm glad you came by; you have not forgotten us!'

'Of course not; how could I?' I asked. It was just a politeness, but she smiled and made strong eye contact for a second; finding a deeper meaning in it.

'Neil doesn't live at home anymore. Did you know?'

'No, I didn't,' I lied.

'Yes, he moved in with his girlfriend a couple of years ago.'

'I see,' I said.

'You're all grown up now,' she added.

'Yes,' I said.

Then she said 'you can come and see me though.'

It could have been a casual friendliness, or it might have been an invitation.

'Ok, I will.'

'Come tomorrow afternoon at three. I finish work early on Wednesday's.'

'Great, I'll come.'

'You will,' she said, and for a moment a glint came into her eye.

It was an invitation, and she had given me enough to hope that it was not only an invitation for coffee. But then that is how she was; you never really knew for sure.

The next day at half past two I set out for her house. I had none of the nervousness and fear in me than I had carried there a few days before. I did not quite think that I was on a sure thing, but I was confident that something was going to happen. The closer I got to her house, the more fiercely my desire for her burned.

She answered the door and smiled warmly and asked me to come in, and she led me through to the living room. We sat down and did the small talk you do with your friend's mum when you have not seen her for a long time.

'Is Neil doing well? What's his girlfriend like?' I asked.

'He is, and his girlfriend is a nice girl. She is called Teresa. Maybe you know her?'

'I don't think so,' I said.

'She is an improvement on the ones you both used to have when you were at school.'

'That was a long time ago now,' I said.

'Yes, you are all grown up now,' she replied, and then added 'I think I said that yesterday, didn't I?'

On that note she went off to the kitchen and came back a minute later with a bottle of red wine and two glasses and sat down.

'Would you like some wine?' she asked. 'I always have a glass in the afternoon. It's my little indulgence. One of them anyway.' She smiled that come on smile again.

She asked me to open the bottle. I did, and handed it back to her and she took it over to the cabinet where she had stood the glasses and poured. She filled both glasses. Then she came and handed me a glass and sat in the chair opposite the sofa. Immediately we were beyond son's friend and friend's mum and she was in heavy flirtation mode. She threw her left leg over her right, revealing a lot of thigh and stocking top as she did it.

In that moment I thought to myself how good she looked. She was sexier than ever, and I remembered a day long ago now when I had sat in that living room with her and Neil and she had been wearing a black suit like the one she was wearing today and I had got a raging hard on; just being in the same room as her. Now my cock was hardening again. Just being near her was enough to make me erect. This time, though, I felt sure that the erection she had given me was not going to be wasted, but I was doing my best to hide it, just as I had before.

She still knew how to flirt. At that she was expert. She was one of those rare people; there are men who can do it too, but they are mostly women, who could seem to be about to invite you to bed, but when you made your pass they would ask in surprise 'how could you have taken me to mean that?' and it would not seem disingenuous...the view of her skirt riding high up her thigh and the momentary flash of her gusset as she had crossed her legs were merely an accident.

The black business suit looked more expensive than the one she was on that long ago day; well cut and a black silk blouse and black stockings, and I had noticed a pair of expensive looking black high heeled shoes at the door as I had come in. Evidently, she saw that my look lingered on her longer than it should have and as if in explanation and as if to deflect attention she said

'You like my suit?'

'Yes, I replied.

'I'm working again now, back at the paper; my old job, secretary to the editor.'

'Great,' I said.

Being a woman with a career again suited her.

'And what about you? How was university? You are all grown up, and a man of the world now and very well educated.' She smiled and then she said

'And I imagine you have lots of women after you?'

She was as provocative as ever, but now she seemed more brazen than she used to.

'A few,' I said.

'You're surer of yourself,' she remarked and then she asked

'So, is university all sex and drugs and rock'n'roll, like they say?'

'It can be,' I said.

'And what about for you?' she asked.

'I never got much into drugs, and I already liked rock'n'roll before I went, and as to the other, well...'

'Don't worry,' she said, laughing, 'I'm not going to ask you to go into detail. 'But,' she said, 'there is something to talk about. A conversation I've always thought we would have. I knew you would come and see me one day. And that day seems to be today.'

I didn't say anything.

Filling the silence before it became too heavy or awkward she said 'I have always found it easy to talk to you, and I'm glad that you seem comfortable talking to me.'

'I am,' I said and I was.

We had finished our wine and she offered me another and again I accepted. She poured two full glasses again and the air grew heavier.

Maybe she was just playing with me, or maybe she wanted to start leading up to it. As she sat down again, and arranged her skirt to reveal a little thigh, she said

'Look, there is no point in beating about the bush. I enjoyed what we did, but we couldn't have done anymore. I hope you don't still think that I treated you unfairly.'

'I don't,' I said, 'and I think that you were right.

That was not entirely true. I did resent it. She had denied me my Mrs Robinson experience; and I still had not had one. But it was more than that; it was her. I wanted her; even more now that had come to visit her. And I realised that I had not only hoped that we would make our way seamlessly to her bedroom, just because I had come; I had expected it, assumed it even. So she had been right when had said that I was more sure of myself. It was not an improvement; not if I was to gain what I sought.

She would be in control. I saw that now. If something was going to happen, I must leave it to her. I was still too young, too gauche, despite what I might have imagined about myself. But if she wanted me too, she would forgive my gaucheness and my arrogant assumptions which she had guessed immediately. But then, if she had discerned that I had come there with the hope of having her, sex and the thought of having me must have crossed her mind too. I took hope from that.

She sat silently thinking and I wondered what her silence meant until she said

'Yes. I think I was right. But with that there in the past, there is something ... hanging ... between us; something ... unfinished.'

The air was filled with expectancy and the ghost of sex hovered about us. We both knew it, but I did not dare speak or even move. It seemed the moment, if it was one, was going to be missed.

Not by her. She said

'You didn't come around here the other day to see Neil. How long are we going to keep up these...preliminaries?' she asked.

It was not subtle, but it would bring the moment to its crisis.

'I think you came here today to see me.'

I didn't answer.

'I'm glad you did. I have thought of you over the years since you left. And you're all grown up now and I think you can handle it; handle me. Now I'm going to be very direct. Would you like to fuck me, Michael?'

I must have looked shocked, because she laughed. Then she stood up and came over to the sofa and sat next to me. As she sat, she placed her hand at the top of my thigh.

At first she just let it rest there and did not say anything.

She looked at the bulge in my crotch and said in a feigned matter of fact way, 'I see you still want me. Your cock has been hard since I came back from the kitchen. It turned me on, knowing you want me; still want me. I always hoped we would get a chance to continue what we didn't finish.'

'Now?' I said ridiculously.

She might have laughed again or withdrawn her hand and apologised and laughed some more; the old Yvonne would have; she was flirtatious, but not this bold. This one was bold; wanton even. She ignored my faux pas and simply said

'We are alone, and Derek won't be back for hours.'

She lifted her hand from my thigh and took a cigarette from her pack on the table and lit it. Then she took a long draw; the cigarette in her other hand now, and the hand that had been on my thigh she placed on the bulge of my cock. Gently, but in exactly the right places, she squeezed.

'Your cock is very hard,' she said; 'I had better help you. It's exciting to know that it is hard for me.'

With that she unzipped my fly and dipped her fingers between the two silver lines of the zip and pulled out my cock. It was indeed fully erect. She began to wank me.

'Have you missed your Auntie Yvonne?' she teased.

'Yes;' I said.

'Did you ever do this yourself and imagine fucking me?'

'Yes,' I said.

'Good. I hoped you would. I like the idea of you wanking over me.'

'It's better to have you do it.'

'Mmmmm,' she said, 'of course it is, you naughty boy. Do I do it well? Do I wank your cock nicely?'

'Yes,' I sighed.

'Ever since I sucked you off in the car that day I have wanted to have this cock in my pussy. Are you going to fuck me this afternoon? Are you going to put your cock in Auntie Yvonne's pussy for her and fuck her?

'Yes,' I gasped as her fingers gripped my foreskin and rolled it slowly up and down over my helmet.

She looked me in the eye and asked me

'Did you like the way I sucked it? Did Auntie Yvonne give you a nice blowjob?

'The best,' I said.

'Good. Do you want me to blow your cock now?'

'Yes!'

'Then you must do something for me first.'

She stopped and stood up and told me to watch. She began slowly to undress. My prick twitched when I saw what she was going to do and she watched it dance and throb the whole time.

She took off her jacket and then placing her cigarette in her mouth at a provocative angle, she began to unbutton her blouse. Slowly she opened the buttons one by one, revealing first a black lace bra and then the little bulge of her stomach. When her blouse was undone she did not take it off, but put her hands behind her back and I heard the ripping sound of the zip of her skirt. The skirt quickly fell to the floor and I saw her skimpy black lace panties and sheer black stockings and suspenders. She stepped out of the skirt and then lifted her left leg onto the arm of the sofa. I looked between her legs; where else would my gaze fix itself? She looked down at me.

'Pull my panties aside and look at my pussy,' she purred.

I reached for her gusset and felt the damp material with the tips of my fingers.

'I'm very wet,' she said, 'Auntie Yvonne's pussy is wet for you. Take a look.'

I pulled her gusset aside and saw her pussy for the first time. I had fingered her before, that afternoon in the car, but this was the first time I saw it. Yvonne's pussy. It was beautiful. Her lips were large and dark and they were wet, as she had said. I simply stared and my cock seemed to get even harder.

'Touch it. Touch me,' she said.

I did as she asked, moving my fingertips from her gusset onto her pussy lips. I was so excited I thought I was going to come. I had to get hold of myself. I did not want her to think I was still the boy of five years before.

She sighed deeply as my fingers touched her and she gasped when I slipped a finger between her lips and inside her.

'Yes yes, play with Auntie Yvonne's pussy. Yes, yes, finger me.'

She had not spoken like this in the car that day.

I pushed another finger into her and she gasped again and her breathing became more urgent and still she stared down at my cock, watching its responses to her.

'Wank for me, she said, and tell me how you imagined me when you did it by yourself.'

I took my cock between the fingers of my other hand and began to wank myself; slowly so as not to come.

'Tell me,' she said, 'tell me how you imagined fucking me.'

I began to tell her, but as I was speaking she gently pushed me backwards so that I was lying with my head resting on the arm of the sofa. Then she swung a leg over me and placed her foot beside my head. I was not sure at first what she was going to do, but it did not matter. I had surrendered myself to her entirely. Then her crotch began to move towards my face and she was pulling her gusset aside to expose her fanny. She was an inch from my face when she said

'You owe me a pussy licking,' and she giggled.

I could smell the musk of her pussy and see its delicious secretions as they shone on her lips and in a moment my tongue met her wet flaps and slowly I began to lick her. She was sitting right on my face, though giving me enough room to make the moves I needed to make to give her the pleasure she craved.

Eat my pussy,' she said between gasps and sighs; 'suck on Auntie Yvonne's pussy and make her come.'

I ate her for five minutes, giving it all I had. I pushed my tongue as far into her as I could and her juice tasted saltier the deeper I reached in. My root of my tongue ached with the effort, but I was not going to stop until she came. Finally, she began to grind her crotch into my face and I heard her cry out and she came, drenching my face with her love oil.

She sat and panted, fast and then more slowly and when she had recovered herself, moved off of my face and asked me

'Are you ready to fuck me?'

She looked down at my throbbing prick and there was no need for me to answer. She positioned herself over me and took hold of the base of my cock to steady it and slowly sat down and inch by inch her pussy sucked my cock into itself.

'Oh yes,' I cried and she looked down at me and said

'Is it better than the fantasy? Is it good to have your cock in my pussy at last?

'Yes, yes!'

Now let me fuck you!' she said and began to ride me. Her pussy was the tightest I had ever been in and it gripped my cock like a vice. And did she fuck me!

At last, after all of those years of dreaming of her and wanking over her and longing for her, I was inside her. My cock was inside Yvonne Clark's pussy and we were fucking. I felt like my life was fulfilled.

I held on as long as I could and she came once more before I exploded inside her. She came to rest and sat on my cock for minutes before slowly lifting herself off of me. Then she paused, and with her pussy suspended a couple of inches over my cock, she reached down and pulled herself open and allowed my spunk to drip out of her and over my cock.

When she felt she had drip-dried herself sufficiently, she returned to her chair and fell back in it. She took a cigarette from her pack and lit it and then allowed her legs to fall open, revealing her pussy to me. As she smoked, her hand wandered down over her stomach and found its way to her pussy.

'Watch me masturbate,' she said.

'Didn't I satisfy you? I asked.

'You did, she laughed, 'but I want you to satisfy me more and watching me play with my cunt for you will make your cock hard again for me.'

She said 'cunt'. She would have said that before.

She has turned into a porn star, I thought to myself, and I liked it, then.

After treating me to a very, very rude masturbation show, she beckoned me over and told me that now she was going to suck me off. Almost before I had got to her, her lips had encircled my cock. She sucked me avidly, making eye contact all the time and pausing every minute or so tell me how much she enjoyed eating my cock and how she wanted me to fuck her again.

In the end she stopped sucking and threw herself back in the chair and told me to fuck her. I positioned myself and held my saliva coated cock in my fist and guided it towards her pussy lips. I paused for a moment as my helmet touched the warm velvet of her labia and then slowly I pushed into her. I began slowly, wanting to savour the sensations of her tight cunt gripping my cock. I speeded up when I could resist no longer until I caught her rhythm as she bucked and thrust herself at me. She came once, then twice, and then relaxed and laid back and took the fucking I was giving her more passively until, when she knew I was about to come, she told me to pull out and spray her face.

I did as she asked and withdrew and stood up until my cock was level with her mouth. I had to wank to finish myself off, but it only took a dozen or so strokes before my cum spurted from my cock over her.

In my fantasies we had had sex that was fucking and making love, but this afternoon she had simply fucked me. It had been the best sex I had ever had, but it not been what I had expected; and I was not sure, when I thought about it, that it was exactly what I wanted. I began to wonder if she was just a sex fantasy; my Mrs Robinson. Maybe what I had imagined was lust was really something else. I felt a deep longing inside me, even in the moment of my fulfilment.