"Thrice" (part ) by Julius Copyright April 2008 Marsha chose a new victim every year, although she hardly thought of them as victims.
She was also sure that they never saw themselves sweet teen flashing her perfect big tits such. It was her way of celebrating the start of the summer vacation. She reasoned she earned it, and the young man was never the loser. Paul was eighteen and, strictly speaking, no longer her student, so she was breaking no law.
He was tall and shy and well mannered and there was something about him that made the blood hurry in Marsha's veins. He had a summer job at the supermarket, mostly just stacking shelves. He was making pocket money and waiting for university to swallow him up.
She'd sought him out in the store and chatted with him while he worked, finding out when he finished. When he emerged they appeared to meet by accident. Her cart was loaded and he, quite naturally, offered to help. Minutes later he found himself sat in her car, headed for her apartment; he promising to help her with her groceries and she offering to pay him with a beer and a snack.
He perched on the bar stool, his elbow on the breakfast counter with the promised beer in his hand. Paul couldn't believe the change in his teacher. She was barely recognizable.
If she'd not spoken to him in the store he'd never have known it was her.
Now, here, in her apartment, he watched this sexy woman move around, making them a snack. Day after day, forever it seemed, he'd watched her and listened to her in the classroom. Just another teacher, vaguely female but by far the easiest to stay awake with during class.
He loved history and she made it come alive. But her hair had always been pinned up. She'd worn loose sweaters and calf length skirts. Anything, he realized, to hide the woman he was seeing now. She'd just been Ms. Sims. He'd not even known her first name was Marsha.
"A penny for them?" "Huh?" He snapped back to the here and now. asian school pretty girl acquires down on jock penny for your thoughts." "Sorry, I was thinking about how different you look." "Oh, not the plain, dull, boring old schoolmarm?" "You weren't boring or old or," he forgot which adjectives she'd used. "I tried not to be boring, but plain I did try for, and I am old." He looked at the new Ms.
Sims, "You're not old," he said, with genuine sincerity. "You're eighteen Paul, multiply that by three." Paul's mental arithmetic wasn't too bad, "Fifty-four?" She stepped closer to him, her cleavage little more than a foot from his face, her skirt brushing his knees. "Fifty four Paul, just about old enough to be your grandmother." Paul put down his empty beer bottle.
No beer drinker, he now had a bit of a buzz. He could smell her perfume. His cock burrowed urgently in his boxers and jeans. He badly needed to adjust himself. There seemed to be no answer for her last remark.
"Grandma Sims? Yes students have called me that. But sometimes, away from school, I disguise myself and become Marsha." She paused, "What else were you thinking Paul?" Paul's blush darkened and he glanced down at her chest and guiltily back into her eyes, "Nothing." "Nothing, Paul? Weren't you thinking about my tits?" He had been of course. In the blouse they looked huge, bigger than they'd ever looked in the loose clothes she always wore in class. But he couldn't bring himself to say so.
"Of course you were Paul." She moved closer pressing her thighs against his knees. "I was thinking things too. Do you want to know what I was thinking?" Paul's trapped cock was hurting him. Trapped and swollen sexy girl gets her hairy pussy plowed needed to straighten. God she was turning him on! "I was thinking about your cock, Paul. Wanting to see it. Wanting to touch it, to do all sorts of things to it." Paul swallowed audibly.
He looked down, away from her eyes but all he could see was the deep cleavage between those breasts. He didn't know what to do or to say. "Take it out for me Paul, take your cock out and let me see it." Had she what he thought she'd said? He wanted to take it out, it hurt where it was but … open his fly, take his erect cock out in front of Ms.
Sims? Just like that? He couldn't, just couldn't. "I could help," Marsha said and reached for him. He flinched and tried to draw back. "Paul, I want to, I want to look. Is it hard? Is it hard because of me?" "Please, Ms.
Sims …" "Paul? Please do or please don't?" She moved her hand, running her fingers over the tight denim of his groin. His intake of breath was a loud hiss through his teeth.
"Don't or I'll … I'll …" "You'll what Paul? Are you so aroused that you might come in your pants?" He nodded, eyes pleading. "That's very flattering Paul. Very flattering, do you know that? A young man near orgasm just looking at my old tits." "There's nothing old about you!" He said the words almost angrily. necesito esto mas seguido mi amor video completo download link is fifty-four years old on Grandma Marsha," her tone was light even if the words held a note of sadness.
"So," she said very quietly, "you'd better take him out yourself if he's so fragile." Of course, part of Paul wanted to do this.
His fingers moved towards his zipper but then he froze. Marsha said, "Look." Paul looked. She raised her hands to her blouse and undid the top button. She looked meaningly down at his zipper.
Paul swallowed. She undid another button. Paul drank in the view as lacy, white bra and the swells of her breasts appeared. His fingernail found the tag of the zipper and, with finger and thumb. He slid it down. Marsha reached and hooked a forefinger in the waistband of his boxers and pulled outwards and down. His swollen cock reared up from inside his shorts.
"Oh it's beautiful," she said. Nobody had used the word beautiful about his cock before, but she sounded sincere. "Jerk off for me Paul." "What!" He couldn't believe she'd said it.
"We need to relieve some of that pressure young man. I want you focused while you pleasure me." "But I can't just, just, just do it, while you watch me." How could she say such things?
She tugged at the waistband of the boxers. "You'll have to drop those pants Paul." She pulled again and he slid off the stool and stood. He was trembling, a mix perhaps of nervousness and excitement. She undid the snap of his jeans and they were down, round his ankles, before he could catch them.
"There," said Marsha in triumph and reached to pull down his underwear. "No, let me do it," Paul had felt like a little boy for a moment, maybe it was the age difference. But if his shorts were coming down, he'd do it. She watched as he did it. "I've never seen a man make himself come," she announced. "I've never done it while anyone watched." He wondered why she would want to watch. He'd rather she did it for him.
There was something else he'd never experienced. Through all this, his rigid cock hadn't softened in the least. "Get back up on the stool Paul, I want to watch close up." He went on tip-toe and slid his bare ass back onto the wood seat "My God, Paul, you're all cock, all lovely, lovely cock. What a lucky girl am I." Marsha turned to the counter and slid the butter dish towards Paul. "Here, you'll need some lubrication." Suddenly he wanted this, wanted to come for her, wanted what he was sure would follow.
He dipped his fingers into the near-liquid butter and wrapped his hand round his cock. "Yes Paul, do it, make yourself come for Marsha." She pressed up against his knees and stared down at his hand and his cock.
Paul looked down too, at her cleavage, and wished she'd ask him to slip his cock in between her fifty-four year old tits. That thought did it. He began to pump slowly at his cock, gripping it tight, thinking of her tits, imagining fucking them.
In no time at all it seemed, he felt the familiar hot-tension behind his balls. He leaned back until the seat-creaked and his legs straightened and stiffened. "Oh God!" he hissed through gritted teeth. "Yes Paul, come for me, come Paul." Come he did, his first spurt hit her under the chin and she squealed in almost little-girlish delight.
Each spurt was a little softer than the previous … on her throat, on her throat a little lower down and then, into her cleavage, until he was spent. With each gush she whispered, "Yes Paul, again." When he was done, Paul slumped awkwardly on the stool breathing hard, eyes closed, a small smile on his lips.
Marsha looked down at his hand. It still held his dwindling cock. His cock-head glistened delectable ai shirosakia pleasured with many cocks the butter. The last of his come oozed from the tip of his cock, trickled down over his knuckles and fell to the floor. His come had trickled down from her chin and throat to join the little lake in her cleavage. She dipped a finger in it, hesitated a long moment and then lifted it to her lips.
It was almost tasteless. The 'almost' was the magic. She searched for a word to qualify the 'almost-taste,' then gave up and dipped in all taut ass aperture gets hammered hardcore and russian. She began smearing his juice over her breasts, marvelling at the silky texture of the wetness between her fingertips and breast-skin. Already very aroused this was turning her on further.
She realized her thighs were aching; she had had them clamped tightly together all through Paul's efforts. She looked up from her breasts to find him watching her.
His eyes fixed on her caressing fingers. She saw the blush sweep over him as he caught her glance. "I'm so sorry about that," he gestured at her wet bosom. "Don't be sorry. I loved watching it happen. It's very erotic you know." "You mean?" "Yes," she answered his unfinished question, "it's a big turn on, watching you come like that, feeling the heat of you splash onto me." She looked down at his cock; it was half-hard again.
"Are you a tit man then?" "What do you mean?" "Do tits turn you on?" "Yours do Ms. Sims," the words didn't come out easily. "Just Marsha OK? And I promise not to call you Mr.
Roberts." Then she added, "Is it only my tits that turn you on Paul." He gestured towards her with a hand, "You're all beautiful I think." "Thank you Paul.
Now, about these tits that seem to turn you on. Would you like to look at one?" He could only nod. She slowly unfastened the remainder of the blouse's buttons and opened it. The white bra was perhaps on the small side. But the effect was delightful and she knew it. Her breasts threatened to spill out over the tops of the cups and her cleavage was deep. Marsha slipped the blouse off her shoulders and let it slide to the floor.
She eased the left shoulder strap down her arm and looked at Paul. He was wide eyed and his mouth was open a little. His cock, even as she looked at it, lifted off his thigh. She hefted her breast with one hand and peeled the bra cup down with the other. At fifty-four, breasts don't just stick out any more and Marsha's certainly didn't.
But they were big and still firm. Even with gravity taking its toll, she was proud of what she showed to Paul. He shifted on the stool and his cock waved. She moved closer to him and lifted the breast. "Kiss it," she told him, offering the nipple. The nipple was big and dark. The areola was dark too. Marsha didn't like her nipples. She wished they were pink and smaller and sometimes, she wished they were less sensitive.
Paul bent his head and kissed the nipple. The bolt of energy that whipped down to her pussy made her gasp. "Suck it Paul.
I can come if you do. Make me come Paul." His eyes looked up into hers and he released her nipple. "Really?" There was disbelief in his voice. "Hush and just suck." He sucked. "Bite!" He bit. "Harder!" He bit harder. "You hold it now," she said, guiding his hands. He took hold of the big breast and Marsha put her hands behind his head and told him how to hold and squeeze and how to bite and suck and pull and not to be afraid of hurting her.
He didn't hurt her. Well, yes he did, but she loved it, loved his clumsy hunger. It took less time that she'd expected to take her to the edge.
The tightening in her thighs, the delicious contractions happening up inside her. Her breathing speeded up and she heard herself begging, "More, more. Harder, harder." Her orgasms were always so intense. And this hungry puppy, suckling at her nipple, produced an explosion inside her that had her sobbing with the joy of it. Her knees began to buckle and she pulled herself against him, pressing his face into her breast. "My God Paul, that was incredible." She moved sideways a little and eased forward, taking his knee between her thighs.
She needed pressure against her pussy and longed to hump his thigh, to just grind against him. She couldn't remember arousal like this in a very long time. Paul had never made a woman come before and he felt a glow of pride. How easy it had been, just sucking on her nipple.
How it had grown in his mouth and the urge to bite only matched by his fear of hurting her. He had hurt her a little, he knew, but she'd begged him not to stop. Now his cock was like an iron bar again. How he longed to slide it into her. Was she going to let him?
He knew somehow that she was and the prospect had his heart pitter-pattering in crazy anticipation. "Would you do it to the other one?" she asked him. He'd love to. He nodded and grinned. He could feel the heat of her where she was pressed down on his thigh.
She raised herself and he looked down. There was a dark, wet patch on his jeans where her pussy had been pressing. He glanced up at her. "Yes Paul, I'm wet, I came, you made me come. That's from inside me Paul." He needed to grab his cock and stroke it. He was as horny as before and needed … needed?
God he needed to bring himself off again. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Paul, my panties are a girl watcher s paradise solo vibrations mary jane amateur brunette masturbation toys almost came; her hot breath, her words, the image of her wearing those soaked panties she was telling him about.
He looked down, precum was drooling from the little slit in his cock-head. She peeled the other bra strap off her shoulder and slowly bared the other breast. The bra slipped to her waist, she was suddenly, deliciously, topless. She shook her shoulders and her breasts jostled and swung, big and heavy and beautiful. Paul couldn't take his eyes off them. She was like one of those porn stars but she was there, close and so very real. Marsha reached out and took his hand and pulled gently.
He slid off the stool again and she led him into the living room, his cock waving proudly in front of him "Lie on the floor on your back, Paul." Paul was so aroused, so desperate for more of Marsha that he sprawled on the floor without a thought.
She moved to stand astride him. He tried to peer up her skirt but it was too long to see beyond her knees.
She wore stockings or pantyhose. It became very important to know which. Everything under that skirt was suddenly very, very important to Paul. Marsha sank to her knees, settling her ass on his stomach. The back of her skirt settled over his groin, adding to his torment as the fabric slid across his cock. And that soaked panty-crotch was pressed against him, just above his belly button. He imagined he could feel its wetness. "Now Paul, you know that women can come over and over, almost forever?" He nodded.
He'd read about it somewhere but had never given the matter much thought. She reached behind her took hold of his cock through her skirt and gave him a squeeze. A hard, painful squeeze.
He gasped; he'd likely have come if she'd not gripped him so hard. "Young men like you seem to recover very quickly but even you're limited. Do you think you can satisfy me Paul?" Paul thought he could fuck her until she pleaded for mercy. She released his cock. "Think you can fuck me to death Paul?
That's what you were thinking, wasn't it?" She cupped her breasts and squeezed, her fingers pressing deep into her softness.
He stared at the big nipples. She squirmed her ass on his stomach. "You're going to make me come Paul, make me come three times to each of yours. You already owe me two." She looked down at him between her breasts and cocked an eyebrow. "Think you can do it Paul?" He nodded, quite sure he could. "Close your eyes," she said and watched, waiting for him to comply.
He closed his eyes. He felt her hands next to his shoulders, felt warmth on his face, that was her breasts, he knew. The fabric of her skirt was chaffing gently on his cock and he groaned. "What's wrong?" "Your skirt on my cock, I nearly came." "Don't come Paul. If you come now you'll owe me five." He felt her moving and then the skirt was gone. Something touched his lips. He opened his eyes. "Make me come again Paul." Her voice was unsteady. He wondered if she could be as aroused as him.
He didn't think it possible. She dragged her right nipple back and forth across his lips. He opened his mouth and drew it in.
How big it was, how firm. His body responded, his cock felt suddenly harder, if hawt sex session receives started hardcore and blowjob were possible. He looked up at her. Her mouth was open, her eyes closed.
She raised herself and the nipple popped out of his 1-brunette brunette lesbians fingering incredible tube porn. "Don't let go Paul." He captured it again, and again she lifted away and again it escaped. "Hold on Paul, suck harder." "I don't want to hurt you." "Don't worry about hurting me Paul." The nipple, wet and hard, slid across his lips again.
Paul's world became all breast. His mouth was full of nipple. Soft breast-flesh kept pressing over his nose, making him snuffle like a puppy.
His arms were trapped by her legs so he had to struggle his head from side to side to breathe. Each time her nipple escaped her pendulous breast swung free, so big so unutterably beautiful. Each time Marsha would gasp and move her shoulders trying to give him back the nipple. And Paul would hungrily seek it. As soon as he had it she would murmur, "Yes Paul, suck at Marsha, make me come again." It took longer the second time but his erection never subsided.
All the while Marsha murmured encouragement, urging him on in language he'd not have believed her capable of using. His jaws ached but it didn't matter as long as he could keep the swollen nipple in his mouth, the softness of her breast against his face. She ground her crotch against his belly as if she were fucking him, fucking him through her wet panties. When at last she came, she collapsed on him and writhed and struggled like an animal.
She didn't scream or shout but her body told of her feral joy, as did the obscenities she spoke in his ear. His own arousal seemed to fade in the face of hers.
Paul felt real fear as her orgasm ran its course; fear of its intensity, fear that she might even die. He'd never imagined that women could react like this; a part of his mind had imagined that the female climax was really a myth.
Paul was learning a lot from his teacher. When at last she returned from wherever she'd been, Marsha struggled up onto hands and knees and crouched above him. She glistened with sweat and her breathing was still deep. "Sorry Paul, I rather lost it there didn't I?" He nodded, "It was a bit scary. I thought you were ill." "No, not ill. It's the most wonderful feeling in the world." Marsha sat up, her ass felt warm and wonderful on his stomach and hips.
She ran her hands over her breasts. "Paul, that was beautiful, just beautiful." She reached behind her and found his cock, his erection was gone.
She giggled. "I think I frightened him." She got awkwardly to her feet. "Don't go away, I'll be right back." Paul didn't go away. He lay enjoying the glow of this unbelievable experience. He watched the swing of her hips, her naked back and shoulders as she crossed the room. He touched his cock, it was in that soft, semi-erect state and he imagined it waiting for whatever was next.
She was soon back, a small plastic bottle in her hand. She knelt and got onto her back beside him. "I think you can owe me my third climax for a while, my pussy and I need a rest." She half rolled towards him and uncapped the bottle. He saw the word 'lubricant' and realized what it was. She squeezed some into her palm and reached for him. He groaned as her hand moved over his cock. It felt wonderful. So different, so much better than his own hand.
She rolled onto her back again. "Oh God, don't stop!" he protested as her hand left him. "Hush," she said, "fuck my tits Paul, come here and fuck these soft tits." Paul needed no second bidding. He scrambled onto his hands and knees and knelt astride her, his semi-tumescent cock pointing between her breasts.
She took it in her hand again and gently pumped him to full erection. He knew what she intended, how for real tho her ass crazy who she be he not? He leaned down and lay his erection between her breasts. With her hands Marsh brought her breasts together engulfing him and Paul began to fuck them.
"Take it easy Paul, let's make this last. Slow down when you get close." If he heard, Paul gave no sign. He was in heaven. He hung his head and watched himself. Her big breasts easily accommodated him and the head of his cock only appeared at the end of each thrust; peeping out, its slit gaping open like an eye.
The sensation was incredible. Marsha didn't just lie there and let it happen. He watched as she varied the pressure on his cock by squeezing her breasts together or relaxing her hands. When she squeezed he had tabbykatt f (new york united states viewers hard to force his cock in, when she relaxed her tits did little more than caress him. Soon enough he felt the familiar sensation of an approaching orgasm. She seemed to sense it too because she relaxed her hand and let her breasts separate, leaving him nothing to fuck.
"Sit back Paul, relax. Let the moment pass. We can tease that lovely cock for a while." He sat back on his haunches and tried to relax. She stared at his cock and he looked down at it too. It glistened with the lubricant, precum oozed from the little slit. Marsha's hands moved to her breasts and she began slowly caressing them. How big they were he thought. Her nipples jutted and he knew she was aroused too. Her fingers and thumbs began working on those nipples and he felt her moving under him, writhing slowly.
He'd never realized women played with themselves like this. With himself back under a little control he leaned forward to rest on his hands, offering cock. She engulfed him again. "Come on tit-fucker. Does it feel as good to you as it does to me?" "Oh God yes. Yes! Yes! Yes!" She squeezed her breasts cruelly making herself even tighter this time.
He had to thrust harder too to move his cock in the tunnel of her tits. "Oh - baby - it - feels - so - good - fuck - my - pretty - titties." She said each word to a thrust of Paul's cock. Twice more they managed to anticipate his orgasm and twice more he sat back and paused. Breathing hard Paul looked down and watched his cock lift with each beat of his heart. Marsha reached out a finger and touched the end of his cock and collected a drop of precum.
She withdrew her hand slowly and a gossamer thread stretched finer and finer betwixt her fingertip and the tip of his cock. She poked out her tongue and licked. She stared at him and waggled her tongue, "Paul flavoured," she whispered.
Marsha reached for the lubricant and dribbled some onto her chest, between her breasts. Scooping them with her hands, she made a cleavage for him again. Paul let himself fall forward onto his hands and plunged his erection between her breasts. There was no stopping this time. He simply slammed himself into the tunnel, fucking her frantically. Humping hard and fast, bringing his climax nearer and nearer.
Marsha's fingers and thumbs pinched at her nipples, squeezing, pulling. Her eyes held his as he thrust and thrust and thrust. Paul went rigid, groaned, thrust again and once more.
"Oh fuck! Oh God!" And he came. For the second time Marsha's chin and throat received Paul's outpourings. He thrust and thrust, crushing her breasts, fucking her tits Finally spent he rolled off her and lay on his back, his chest heaving, his heart hammering. For the second time, Marsha happily massaged his come into her breasts.
She revelled in the slippery wetness, as her palms and fingers roamed over her breasts Paul began snoring very quietly. Marsha got slowly to her feet and looked down at him. He has lost his erection. His cock was soft and lolled harmlessly to one side. 'So small, just a little pee spout,' she thought.
She thought of kneeling and waking him with her mouth on the lovely morsel. But she needed a coffee break and perhaps a snack too. She went through to the kitchen. She started a new brew of coffee and started work on the sandwiches again. Bodies need fuel, horny bodies or otherwise. And she was horny, she'd been that way since she'd woken and the chance meeting with Paul had set all this in motion.
Her arousal had been spiralling upwards ever since. The swing and jostle of her naked breasts and the wetness between her legs were enough to sustain the longing. And she kept smelling his come, the scent of it rolling up with the warmth of her breasts.
She crossed her legs and shut her eyes and yearned for that cock to be inside her. He startled her when he slid his hands round her and cupped her breasts.
Not a move she'd have expected somehow, from one so young. He kept his hands in place while she worked. She deliberately moved her ass against him and soon enough she felt his hardness against her.
'Did young cocks never rest?' she wondered. (cont'd . see Part 2)