The Dominant Widow And Her Young Neighbor free porn video

The Dominant Widow and her Young Neighbor


By billy69boy


I had known full well that marrying an older gentleman was a risky proposition. It opened me to the distinct possibility that I would eventually become a widow before my time. But I married Morgan Mount nonetheless. I just couldn't resist: despite the fact that I was just twenty two years of age and he was almost twice that when we wed didn't matter to me at the time. I was totally in love with him and to this day, I am still. Morgan was always the perfect gentleman, and he treated me like a princess from the day we first laid eyes on each other. Ours was a veritable match made in heaven, of that I am certain.

Fast forward twenty plus years later: My husband had not even made it to retirement age when he was struck down by a fatal heart attack. There were no warning signs: nothing seemed amiss, and yet in a flash I became the Widow Mrs. Mount. I was in a state of shock for several years hence. Despite the fact that Morgan had left me with more money than I could ever hope to spend, it was of little comfort to my soul. I clung to what few things that had given him joy and meaning in his life, besides me: his incredible tropical fish collection and his greenhouse filled with exotic orchids. I also made it a point to continue to attend the various charity galas and benefits that he had supported.

From the outside looking in, I suppose my life seemed rich and full. My neighbors were friendly enough, but I couldn't really say they were my friends. In fact, even the high society women I dressed like and were social with weren't really my friends either. In truth, I felt so very lonely most of the time, even though I could always put on a "happy face" when the situation warranted.

The one exception to the rule was Pamela who lived behind me. She was so friendly and outgoing, it was hard not to like her and be drawn to her. Even though she never mentioned it, I think that deep down she knew what I was going through and how sad and lost I really was. She took me under her wing, so to speak, and we would get together for afternoon tea several times a week. We would alternate our meeting places in no particular order, but before long she had seen the enormous fish tank in the living room as well as the beautiful delicate flowers growing in the small greenhouse in my backyard.

When I would visit her, I got to know her two small daughters, her black lab named "Doctor", and her oldest progeny Scott. Pamela's husband had deserted them a few years back; right after the youngest girl was born. So, I guessed that she could feel my pain, being husbandless as well. I was always pleasant to her sweet little group, but with my never having had any offspring of my own, I didn't really take to hers all that well. Still, they were mannerly enough and they always greeted me cheerfully.

One day, I suppose I was complaining somewhat about the amount of time and the commitment I had to expend trying to keep up with Morgan's hobbies, along with the several charity endeavors he championed. Pamela came up with the cleverest idea: I could hire her son Scott to help me around the house, and he would have the chance to earn some much appreciated spending money. I agreed to give him a try, and Scott seemed eager for the opportunity. We got started the next day. Scott was a rather slight young lad, not even close to five feet tall yet, with blonde curls and a wide smile. I began by instructing him how to tend to the tropical fish tank. I explained how everything had to be just right: their food and water quality, the need to keep the tank clean and the required chemicals required. He was an astute pupil and he seemed to take a real interest in the job and its importance.

The next day was a Saturday, and Scott came over early to learn about the prize orchids and all the greenhouse duties that went along with the process. Once again, he proved to be an attentive apprentice and I was pleasantly surprised that he showed such genuine interest in both jobs. Confident that I had found a worthy helper, I tried to give him a few dollars for his time. He held up his hands and shook his head: he refused to take any money until he had earned it. Impressed, I tried to explain to him that I wanted to pay him for his training time, but he stubbornly held his ground. We bonded instantly.

We worked out an agreeable schedule: Scott explained that he didn't care much for sports, so he had a lot of free time after school when his homework and chores were done. So it was agreed that he would come over after supper three evenings per week during school days to tend to the fish, and he would help me in the green house on weekend mornings. Things moved along smoothly for the first few weeks. I found myself feeling more alive and positive for the first time since Morgan had passed. I noticed that I looked forward to Scott's company, both in the evenings as well as the weekend mornings when we would work side by side tending to the orchids. All was well between us: sweet innocence and a genuine comradery developing with each passing day. And then something changed.

On the first evening that I had to go out to a charity dinner, I was in the middle of my primping and preening routine when I thought I noticed something a bit odd in the bathroom mirror: while Scott tended to his fish tank duties, he kept stealing quick glances at me through the partially opened door. At first I was rather shocked and annoyed. I was somewhat flustered, if I'm being honest. I didn't know whether to scold him for his brazen insolence or to tease him and make him blush to his great embarrassment. I chose neither response. I decided to wait: for what, I wasn't sure exactly. But, when I vacated the bathroom with my full length robe wrapped tightly around my body, I made it a point to ignore his presence as I proceeded to my bedroom to dress for the evening.

Upon entering, I noticed that my pulse seemed to be elevated and I felt slight perspiration on my upper lip. Now mind you, I hadn't had a sexual thought of any kind in the years after I lost my dear husband, so I wasn't sure just what I was feeling. But I have to admit, I deliberately left the bedroom door open a few inches. On my bed I laid out my fancy underthings, complete with a lacy bodice, a matching black garter belt and stockings, and a tiny pair of silky panties: the likes of which I hadn't worn in ages. My evening gown was hanging from the closet door, and I was ready to commence my usual dressing ritual. As I had done while in the bathroom, I positioned myself in such a way that my back was toward the partially open door, but with the mirror in front of me, I could take an occasional peek to see if Scott was watching.

Sure enough, I caught a glimpse of him eyeing up my frilly bits on the bed, and it made me tingle up and down my spine. I'm not going to lie: I felt like a totally perverted, dirty, and lecherous madwoman at that moment. Yet, I continued. Now, understand, what I did next was still fairly innocent. I performed a somewhat reverse strip tease, if you will: in other words, I seductively got dressed in front of the lad, but he didn't actually get to see anything. I took each piece of clothing in turn, held it up, and pretended to inspect it for rips or perhaps an errant piece of thread, before putting each piece on underneath my long robe, and with my back always toward him. I even managed to don the bodice without so much as an ounce of flesh revealed to his hungry eyes.

One last glance in the mirror assured me that he was now completely mesmerized by my actions to this point. And that is when I finally dropped my robe and slipped my gown over top of my head and smoothed it down my body before finally turning around and facing the door. As I did so, I saw young Scott turn his head quickly away, but his crimson face betrayed him. I smiled to myself as I strode into the living room, slowly pulling on my soft tan gloves. Scott's eyes grew wide and his mouth was agape. I'm not sure what it is about women's long gloves, but apparently Scott was as taken by the sight of them as Morgan used to be. That memory made me so happy, and to witness Scott's similar reaction was overwhelming in such a warm and delicious manner.

On impulse, I asked Scott if he would be a dear and help me fasten the three brown leather buttons on the side of each glove. All of a sudden, he didn't appear to be the young, confident assistant any longer. Rather, his fingers shook and he stuttered his apologies while fumbling with the buttons. I laughed as I grabbed both his wrists and held his hands up until his nervousness subsided. We were finally successful with the buttons, and off we went: he to his house and I to the charity dinner in the city.

As I drove along the interstate, I tried to make sense of everything that had just transpired in such a short time. I felt as though our encounter was still fairly innocent. Well, except for his attempts at trying to see things he shouldn't have been looking at…that and perhaps my having the left the doors slightly ajar…but all in all, no harm was done, and no foul intended. I was satisfied with my logical conclusion for the time being. But, the longer I drove the more I noticed that I couldn't stop thinking of Scott. How strange, I thought? Was I actually attracted to such a young boy? I shook my head and vowed to concentrate on my driving.

It was a typical affair: long gowns with fancy accessories contrasting with black tuxedos. Good food, too many drinks and large donations from the party-goers. No sooner had I embarked on the long ride home, my mind drifted back to the earlier events that preceded my outing. I couldn't (or wouldn't) stop thinking of my young charge back home, and I found my hand pressing down between my legs as I drove. It would take me a while to get home, so I engaged in some naughty daydreaming and I thought of several scenarios that might be interesting to concoct. And then I realized that tomorrow was Saturday, and that Scott would be over bright and early to work in the greenhouse with me.

As I lay in bed, I began to envision the two of us working side-by-side in the small confines of the greenhouse. There wasn't much room to maneuver, but enough room for some more "innocent" occurrences. I felt my pulse quicken, even as I admonished myself for entertaining any fantasies that might be considered questionable. Despite my efforts to remain the proper lady, I spread my legs and found my love mound to be quite saturated, to my surprise. I will admit I indulged: it was the first time I masturbated since…well, in a very long time; probably well before Morgan had passed away and left me all alone. The experience was exhilarating and left me breathless, with my heart thumping inside my chest. I rolled over and placed my pillow over my head in an effort to hide my devilish grin.

Saturday morning turned out to be a glorious sunny day. I awoke to discover I was still aroused. I'm certain it had to do with my anticipation of what the day might bring. But even though I had my own secret thoughts, I still vowed to act like the proper lady in front of my eager protégé. I vowed to myself that I would do nothing untoward that might scare him off. In my mind, everything was still innocent and quite manageable, and no illicit lines had been crossed. Satisfied with my rationalization, I commenced dressing for the day ahead.

As it was supposed to be a rather hot and humid day, I chose my gardening attire with care: a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a midriff shirt tied at the waist seemed an appropriate ensemble for working out in the stifling heat of the greenhouse, I reasoned. In my mind it was easy to convince myself to dispense with both bra and panties, considering the intense heat that was sure to envelope us as we worked together. I gave myself the once-over in my mirror and was satisfied with the image that looked back. I may be pushing fifty, but I was proud of how my body had held up. The ringing of the doorbell snapped me back to reality, and I found myself fervently hustling toward the front door.

"Good morning, Mrs. Mount," came the sweet voice of the handsome lad standing before me. The innocence of youth is so refreshing: Scott couldn't hide his reaction to seeing me dressed in next to nothing. His eyes bulged as he looked me up and down several times.

"And good morning to you too, Scott," I replied in kind, "would you care to come in for some breakfast before we get started?" He wore a slinky t-shirt with unusually tight and revealing gym shorts and black Nikes.

"Oh no, Ma'am, my mom already fed me, so I'm ready to get started.

"Well, let's go then! You might as well walk through the house. It's the quickest way to the greenhouse," I suggested.

He stepped inside, and I followed him out the back door. He was neither muscular nor ruggedly shaped by any means. But there was something adorable about him just the same. I watched his slight bottom as it wiggled back and forth in front of me. I admonished myself at once for being such a pervy old lady, but I convinced myself that no harm was being done: no one knew what I was up to but me.

As I unlocked the greenhouse door (one didn't leave prize orchids unguarded!) I could feel Scott's eyes on me. I knew I was teasing him already just with my choice of work clothes, and it gave me goose bumps knowing that this young boy was experiencing arousal on my behalf. I acted as nonchalant as possible, of course. But my plan was to tease him (innocently!) to the point where he might develop an embarrassing erection in his tiny shorts that he could not readily hide.

This particular work session called for renewing the soil surrounding the delicate orchids, and it involved mixing bags of special soil with certain additives to boost the flowers' growth and heartiness. We would pick up a bag together and place it in the wheelbarrow, slice through the plastic and let the contents of the bag spill out. As I measured out the various powdered chemicals, I explained to Scott what each one did and why it was necessary. Sometimes we would have to stand very close to each other in order to read the measuring cup properly. I would bend over so he could see the numbers. We could feel each other's breath, we were so close. If one of my breasts happened to graze his arm, I paid no attention to it, but Scott did. He would emit an involuntary gasp that he tried to stifle, lest I hear it.

We took turns with the hoe, mixing the special ingredients thoroughly into the soil. It was a fairly arduous task and we both worked up a decent sweat in no time. I could feel the dampness collect between my breasts, and my shirt hid nothing, due to my not wearing a bra. Scott took note without even pretending otherwise. I could see that his shirt was showing his own perspiration, and I quietly suggested that he take it off. He hesitated for just a moment as he glanced at my damp bosoms. But he accepted my suggestion and slipped his shirt off over his head and dropped it on the chair behind him.

I hoped I didn't inhale as loud as I thought I did. He didn't respond, so I think I was in the clear. His upper body, slick with boy sweat, shone in the sunlight. All of his fine blonde hairs seemed to shimmer on his arms, while his chest and back were smooth as glass. I so wanted to reach out and rub my hands all over his sleek torso, but I resisted. We went back to work and I marveled at his pure beauty as he worked the soil with the hoe. His body was sinewy and almost devoid of definition, but he seemed to exude the pride and grace of a race horse. He looked over at me briefly and caught me admiring his slim features, and I could see his subtle smile even after he turned away. So he caught me: busted! I felt myself blushing, embarrassed. I vowed to get him back, playfully of course.

I took the hoe out of his hands and continued to work the soil into a smooth, well-mixed concoction while he stepped aside. Gradually, I bent over ever so slightly, inch by inch, until I could feel the wet material of my shirt separate from my chest, thereby revealing tiny glimpses of my exposed nipples to his now fiery eyes. I managed to show him a bit more each time I pulled on the hoe, but I pretended not to notice. In fact he had no control over his eyes, and I could see his arousal grow stronger. Figuring he was in a vulnerable state, I went in for the kill shot:

"Scott, you're really sweating a lot! You are beginning to worry me. Why don't you remove your shorts as well?" I knew it was a risky move, but I had a backup line if he hesitated.

"You have underwear on, right?" I asked point blank. He nodded, but made no move.

"Well, what's the need for wearing two pairs of shorts on such a hot day?" Even I thought my reasoning was rather lame, but apparently Scott bought into it and reached down and slid his shorts off. He was now clad in just a tight pair of matching black briefs and his sneakers. Oh, and his penis was fully erect! Realizing this fact about the same time as I did, his face turned a deep crimson. He snatched the hoe out of my hands and proceeded to work that wheelbarrow full of soil like nobody's business. I decided to add a bit of my own heat to the scene, taking advantage of the fact that he was undoubtedly turned on by our playful antics.

"Will you excuse me a minute, Scott?" I said without explanation. As he continued to mix the soil, I turned away from him, untied my midriff shirt and exposed my bare back to him. I then took the front of the shirt and waved it up and down, fanning my boobs, and essentially airing them out. Scott couldn't see my breasts, of course, but he did have a full view of my bare back in the process. After several seconds of cooling down, I rewrapped the ties around my back and turned to face him (a little too soon) as I retied the knot under my chest. He may have seen a second or two of flesh, I'm not sure, but it was clear that his erection hadn't abandoned him in the least.

I was feeling naughtier and more brazen by the minute. I don't know what came over me, but think I was resigning myself to the fact that I was developing a craving for the lad, and one that was rapidly losing any false sense of "innocence". Furthermore, I could see that young Scott was paying full attention to our unspoken dance. When I bent over and reached down to gather up some flower pots, I made sure Scott was standing behind me. I hoped that he might notice that I was wearing no panties underneath my tight close cut jean shorts, but I couldn't be sure. I was aware that he stood stock still while I put on my subtle show for him. When I finally turned towards him, I couldn't resist looking right at his crotch. Apparently I was not very secretive about it, because he blushed immediately while he awkwardly placed his hands in front of his bulge, as if he could prevent me from feasting my eyes on his erect penis. Realizing I got caught looking again caused my face to turn red in response.

So it was on: by now each of us had silently expressed our mutual, shall we say, "Curiosity". But that didn't make things any easier. There was the whole problem of advancing our personal agendas. I suppose I came back to reality a little, and I announced that I was calling it a day. Scott seemed disappointed but I also think he was relieved. I knew he was feeling some things that he was uncomfortable with and he probably welcomed the reprieve. We packed up and retired to the shade of the back patio. I went inside and got us a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. When I returned I was pleasantly surprised to see that Scott hadn't bothered to put his shorts and shirt back on. I took it as a positive sign that he was enjoying our semi-erotic ritual. Indeed, he took to smiling awkwardly as soon as I emerged with the lemonade, which pleased me to no end. I made sure to bend over in his direction as I slowly filled our glasses. I could feel his eyes glued to my breasts and it gave me such a rush of taboo lust; I quickly slumped down on the patio chair, lest I faint dead away from my obvious swoon.

My mind was working in overdrive as we sat and leisurely sipped our drinks. We couldn't take our eyes off each other, and it made me feel like a young teenager anticipating my first kiss. I approached a subject that had been on my mind of late:

So, Scott, I will be away this week from Tuesday to Friday visiting friends. And then I have another formal dinner to attend on Friday evening. If I give you the key to my house, would you be able to come by and tend to the fish for me? We won't be doing any gardening tomorrow, as I have to do some shopping and packing for my trip."

Eager to please, as always, he readily agreed. I was setting a trap for him, of course. Besides getting him to "help" me with my outfit on Friday evening, I decided to arrange the drawers of my unmentionables in such a manner that I would know if he went through them while I was away. I couldn't wait to see what might happen!

In the meantime, I wasn't ready for our gardening session to come to an end, and I came up with another naughty scenario:

"Oh, Scott, I almost forgot," I exclaimed as I jumped up and headed back into the house, "wait here!"

I emerged carrying two pieces of pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream. Scott sat up, beaming his approval. As he reached out to take his plate, I "accidentally" pushed his index finger into the whipped cream while placing my plate on the table.

"Oops, sorry Scott! Here let me help!"

Before he could react, I grabbed his wrist, leaned toward him with full cleavage exposure and slowly licked the whipped cream from his finger. He didn't move, except for his eyes, which grew twice as big as before. I know, because I stared into them while I finished him off by taking the length of his finger deep into my mouth. I greedily sucked any remaining cream off his finger as I slowly eased it back out. I sat down without further comment. Scott was speechless as well, and we ate our pie in sweet silence.

Sensing his lingering shock, I broke the ice:

"Scott, you are welcome to take a shower here before you leave if you'd like," I offered. He shook his head 'no' immediately. "Very well then; if you don't mind, I'm going to jump in real quick and rinse off. Would you please feed the fish while I'm in the shower? I'll pay you before you leave, okay?"

This time, Scott eagerly shook his head 'yes' in agreement, although words still seemed to escape him. Perhaps he was wondering if I would actually do what he had conjured up in his mind. Coincidentally, we both had the same idea. While he busied himself with his fish tank duties, I stepped into the bathroom and 'forgot' to close the door tightly. As I did the first time, I kept my back towards the slightly open door, while glancing into the mirror in front of me to check on his 'progress'. Sure enough, he was all eyes as he didn't miss a second of me 'innocently' undressing. Oh what a rush it was that came over me! I was completely enveloped in thick lusty vibes that made me tingle in all the right places. I made sure to give him a few brief side views in the process as well. Finally, I stepped into the shower, soaped up and took a few extra moments of pleasure for myself. I was already so worked up; it only took another few minutes to get myself off. I smiled to myself as I imagined what Scott would have thought had he seen my fingers sliding in and out my soapy womanhood.

When I finally stepped out of the shower and grabbed for the towel, Scott had disappeared. I figured he went to feed the fish, which was a good strategy for him, but kind of disappointing for me. I slowly began to dry off, but I wasn't alone for long. Undoubtedly, Scott had heard me turn off the shower, and he surely didn't want to miss my towel show! I tried not to disappoint:

With my back facing towards the door once again, I wrapped the towel around my head and proceeded to dry my hair rather vigorously, never mind that I had already towel-dried my hair before he resumed his voyeur position. But it was my pleasure to re-enact the action for him, however suggestively. I massaged my head with such gusto that my boobs were swinging wildly in the mirror, but out of sight for him. At least they were mostly out of sight. I was a master tease, I thought to myself, smiling slyly.

All the while, I could feel his eyes burning into my naked back and my bare ass, but I didn't present any full-frontal views for him. More teasing. I took the towel and rubbed it back and forth from my shoulders down to my hips, paying particular attention to meticulously drying off my bottom. With my patented 'innocent seduction' method in full display, I then slowly dried off each leg by alternately putting one foot on the bathtub and working the towel gently down each leg to my toes. I finished drying the front of my body from my neck to my vagina rather quickly as it was out of his view. Finally, I hung up my towel and wrapped my short slinky summer robe around my body and turned towards the door. Not surprisingly, Scott had disappeared once again. As I headed to my bedroom, I noticed him pretending to be concentrating on the fish tank. He was up on his tiptoes; shaking the fish food can overtop the tank. I smiled as I took pleasure in seeing his tight little black briefs riding up the crack of his sweet young bottom.

I needed another excuse to keep him with me for just a few minutes longer. As my mind (and body) crackled with a sexual fervor I hadn't felt in years, I quickly came up with another idea. I rifled through my closet until I found the perfect outfit for a hot summer day as this: it was a short pale yellow sundress, almost see-through if one caught it in the proper light. I wasted no time with bra or panties. I slipped it over my head and as I was smoothing it down my body, I called out through the open door:

"Oh, Scott? Could you please come in here and give me a hand?" He arrived in record time, as expected.

"Would you be a darling and button me up?" I turned around and presented my bare back to him. The dress had six buttons that I could have easily managed myself, but this was so much more fun. His hands shook noticeably but it didn't stop him from giving it his best effort. As he worked his way up, I kept moving backward ever so slightly as I felt the dress come in contact with his protruding erection; just grazing it at first. But as he continued to have some difficulty with the buttons, I inched back to make more contact with his 'manhood'. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he struggled to complete his mission before he exploded. He couldn't see the wicked smile on my face.

By the time he fumbled through the top button, his bulge had rested in between my butt cheeks several times, with only his tight briefs and the sheer fabric of my dress coming between us. Surprisingly, when he had finished his task, he dropped his hands down to my waist and held them there for a long couple of seconds. It was at once flattering as it was exhilarating. I didn't move at first. Maybe it was my turn to be shocked. But I quickly regained my senses (or my sense of crazy lust) and I reached my arms around behind my body and gently grasped his hips. He responded by wrapping his arms all the way around my waist. I put my hands on the small of his back and pulled his hips forward until I could feel his stiff bulge pressing against my quivering buttocks. He neither pushed forward nor did he pull back. We remained locked in our strange embrace for just a few delicious moments, but looking back it felt like a lot longer.

Finally, I released my grip and he did too, as I turned around and faced him. This time, neither one of us could look each other in the eye. The moment was fleeting and seemingly forgotten in an instant. We both stepped back nervously. But we didn't part ways until he got a good look at my braless nipples protruding through the thin yellow material of my dress, while I stole a long glance at his own protrusion. Breaking the spell that had come over us was the hardest thing I ever had to do, I think:

"Uh, thank you for your…uh, your help Scott. Follow me and I'll pay you now and you can be off," I said matter-of-factly. Scott was speechless once again as he followed me out to the living room. "Here you go," I said as I handed him his pay. "And here is the key to the back door so you can let yourself in while I'm away. You are a hard worker, and we got a lot accomplished today!" I tousled his curly blonde hair for good measure. "Oh! And don't forget to put your clothes back on!" I reluctantly reminded him.

I watched his luscious little bottom as he walked out the door and down the sidewalk. My hand was already up under my sundress even before I closed the door and headed for my bedroom. I plopped down on my back, pulled up my dress and fingered myself shamelessly as my legs twitched with electricity as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over me. Finally satiated, I lay there contemplating the exciting events of the day and began plotting my trap.

I had a closet full of gowns, various corset, bodices, camisoles, satin slips and any number of feminine garb hanging up, including various accessories such as silk scarves and even a few feather boas; and shoes? I had long since lost track of how many pairs I owned, from comfortable slippers to the highest of high heels. Sadly, most of my apparel hadn't seen the light of day since my beloved husband Morgan died. Sure, I still attended the occasional soiree, but my rich nightlife had all but vanished since becoming the Widow Mrs. Mount.

Accompanying my hanging evening wear were several dressers full of various colors and styles of long gloves, hundreds of bras and panties, garter belts and stockings of all types. I had a strong suspicion that my young helper might be inclined to do a little sleuthing out of curiosity, and I wanted him to enjoy his excursion into the world of feminine mystique. Rather than arrange the contents of each drawer just so, I got the bright idea of photographing each open drawer as well the contents of my closet. Upon my return, I would compare the pictures to each drawer and closet area, and see just what may have been tampered with.

I spent the rest of the weekend packing my bags for my trip, as well as taking quite a few photos of my extensive wardrobe as future evidence. I was excited beyond reason, but more and more I realized that all this grooming I was guilty of would eventually lead to some serious business. And I had to admit I was helpless to stop myself.

My visit with old friends was pleasant and rather uneventful, but I couldn't stop thinking about Scott. I was anxious to get home and see what he had been up to, if anything. For all I really knew, he may have just come over on Wednesday and Thursday night, fed the fish and went home. I had fed them on Tuesday before I left on my trip and he knew I would be home to feed them on Friday, so he only needed to cover two nights.

As I drove home, I remembered that Morgan had mounted a security camera trained on the back door. The front of the house was well lit and I never bothered to add any indoor cameras either. But I had given Scott the key to the back door, so I was curious to see if the camera caught anything interesting.

I made it home early on Friday afternoon while school was still in session. I dropped my bags just inside the front door and immediately turned on the computer, even before I went to my room to check on things. I sat down and pulled up the surveillance tape from the outside camera. Lo and behold, I almost wet my panties! The camera was operated by a motion sensor, so it recorded any activity around the back door and applied a date/time stamp to each incident.

I quickly discovered that my "fish feeder" had spent quite a bit of time in my house while I was gone. Apparently, he stopped by right after school on Tuesday, when he wasn't even supposed to come by until Wednesday. Furthermore, he was there for quite a while: right up until dinnertime, according to the time stamp. And then…WHAT? He was back again later, probably after he got his homework done. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Each day seemed to be a repeat of the last. Even the times were almost identical: he would come right after school, stay until dinnertime, and then come back for a couple more hours in the evening. I was convinced my hunch was correct, and I bolted down the hallway and hurried to my bedroom.

I didn't even need to compare what I saw with the pictures I had taken prior to going away. I wouldn't say things were thrown around willy-nilly, but it was obvious even to the untrained eye that someone had been doing quite a bit of exploring, not only in the closet but also rummaging through my drawers full of intimate apparel! Furthermore, a special box full of my most personal belongings had been tampered with. It was a rather large container of mostly B & D articles that had been worn and used to please my dear departed husband. I had it hidden way in the back of the closet underneath several shoe boxes, but now it was sitting on the closet floor, lid off, and in plain view.

Upon discovering this most embarrassing violation of my privacy, I heard a key enter the lock in my back door, a click, and the door squeak ever so slightly as it opened. Apparently "Curious George" was unaware I was already home, as he came right to the back door, probably to escape being seen by the neighbors. Quickly, I stepped behind my bedroom door, which was open. Scott came blustering in and headed straight for the closet. I was able to peek around my door and watch him as he rifled through my box of special toys and kinky attire. My hand was already pressing against my crotch as I admired his single-minded focus. His back was to me as he knelt down on the floor and held various pieces up for inspection. He made his way through the saucy little nighties, the crotchless panties (some of which he held up to his face), the sexy garter belts and fishnet stockings; inspecting each item with care.

I remained completely still so as not to disturb his revelry. And then he shocked me by standing up and removing his school pants and underwear, as well as his sneakers and socks. He chose a red pair of my crotchless panties and slid them up his thin legs and worked them into place. I couldn't see it, but he had both of his hands in front of his body, so I surmised that he was touching himself in a pleasurable manner. He knelt back down in front of the box again and continued his search. He retrieved a set of genuine police grade handcuffs, gave them a thorough going over and lay them aside. Next came four velvet cuffs called soft restraints, complete with long velvet straps for tying purposes. They were kind of tangled up, and I suppose he didn't have the patience or the desire to separate them. But next came something that he held reverently in his hands. It almost looked like he was bowing down and worshipping them. When he held them up to the light, I knew exactly what he had: a pair of long, black, patent leather gloves. But these were different: the gloves came to a point, but had no individual finger holes. They were held together by a single silver ring at the tip where the two points converged.

Scott endeavored to try them on; such was his fascination with them. But he didn't realize that it took another person to assist with the second one. I waited until he had his hand in the second glove up as far as he could get it by himself. I then stepped out from behind my bedroom door and slinked toward his unsuspecting frame; still clad in his white school shirt and tie…and wearing that pair of my frilly panties.

"Can I help you with those gloves, Scottie?" I asked in an even tone. He must have jumped two feet off the ground before he landed awkwardly on the floor and proceeded to pass out. I was myself startled, and I was immediately sorry that I had snuck up on him the way I did. I panicked a bit, and I wrapped my arms around his slight frame, picked him up and dragged him over to my bed. He was still passed out and dead weight, but I managed to wrestle his body onto the bed. I quickly untied his tie and removed it. I also unbuttoned his shirt collar so his breathing wouldn't be restricted.

I sat quietly next to him and watched him closely, making sure he was breathing regularly. I took the opportunity to finish sliding his hand into the second glove, and then I wrapped the matching black Velcro strap securely around his wrists. I looped his school tie through the silver ring at the tip of the gloves and pulled his arms up over his head. I slipped each end of his tie through the slats on my headboard and knotted them together. Satisfied with my clever handiwork, I leaned back and took a look. Scott had such an angelic face: so pure and innocent, especially since he was still out of it.

I decided to have a little more fun with him…I felt justified, considering how I had caught him dead to rights violating my most precious belongings. I undid the rest of his buttons and spread his shirt wide open. He wore no undershirt, so his bare chest and stomach were in full view. So was his penis, peeking through my lacy crotchless panties. It was a sight to behold, and I would have commenced drooling right then and there had I not been the lady that I am. But having convinced myself of my proper conduct, I slowly ran my hand down his hairless torso and took his penis in my hand and gave it a little squeeze. I could feel the throbbing of my pulse despite myself, and I needed a diversion, lest I end up facing sexual abuse charges.

I made my way to the bathroom and came back with a cool wash cloth, which I applied to his face and forehead. I slipped into my closet and quickly changed into a sheer white ensemble consisting of a low cut camisole that barely covered my nipples, a garter belt and white fishnets along with a pair of long white gloves, crotchless panties and heels to match. Soon enough he began to stir, and I was delighted to sit next to him and watch his eyes start blinking as he regained consciousness.

"Well, well, young man, you've been out for a while now. Are you feeling better?" I asked rather vaguely. It was obvious that he didn't yet have his wits about him. A look of hazy confusion enveloped his face as he glanced around, trying to get his bearings. Finally his eyes seemed to grow wide as he began to comprehend his predicament. He looked up and tested the restraining gloves, and then looked down and realized his body was virtually naked, save for my red panties with his penis completely exposed.

And then he looked over at me. His face contorted with a mix of sheer terror and extreme arousal. His mouth gaped open in utter disbelief, and it appeared as though he might pass out again. I stood up and leaned over his outstretched body, making sure he took notice of my partially exposed breasts:

"Now, Scottie, stay with me, dear," I implored, "talk to me! Say something!" He seemed to focus some as he smacked his dry lips together a few times.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Mrs. Mount," he managed to mumble quietly, even as his squinting eyes focused on my long delicate white gloves.

"Hmmm, yes, that's easy for you to say, given the situation you find yourself in, then, isn't it?" I replied with fake sternness as I stood up straight and put my gloved hands on my hips. He shook his head up and down in silence. I responded with a gloved hand running subtly down his body for just a second, acting as if I hadn't even noticed. But I could see his immediate reaction.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy!" I demanded in a deep tone that almost made me burst out laughing at myself. He turned his head towards me, and his eyes literally bulged out of his head at the sight of me and my outfit. He was speechless, but his body language gave him away. He squirmed and shook nervously, but most telling was watching his cock come alive. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I leaned over him again, pointing my finger in his face as I subtly shook my breasts:

"You have some nerve searching through my private possessions! And after I trusted you with the key to my house!" I doubt he heard a word I said, as he was instantly mesmerized with my bosom, especially as he realized he could catch a glimpse of my nipples if he paid attention.

"You must be punished for your bold insolence, do you understand?" He shook his head up and down as before, but again I was pretty sure he was paying no attention to my words. I stood up and made sure my legs were spread fairly wide so he could get a good look between my legs. I felt a familiar tingle there, thinking about the possibility that it was the first time he had ever seen a vagina up close and personal, so to speak. Now mind you, I don't shave my pubic area completely, but I keep it closely trimmed, and much of it was clearly visible.

"I'll be right back," I announced, as I turned away and strode toward my closet, making sure to swing my hips seductively for his eyes to behold. I gathered a few things hanging from the hooks and came back out and stood in the doorway. I felt such a rush of adrenalin as I surveyed the scene in front of me: the sweetest, cutest boy alive lying on my bed; his arms secured above his head, and his now raging hard-on bobbing in the air. He looked towards me in awe, and I sashayed my way slowly towards him as sexily as I could muster, waving various feather boas and silk scarves as I proceeded. The closer I got, the more he squirmed in anticipation. Finally, he spoke in a halting manner, but with obvious concern:

"What…uh…are you going to do with all that stuff?"

"I'm going to give you what you deserve," I answered cryptically, "and you deserve to be punished!"

"But…but!"

"Oh really? Well, 'but' nothing, mister! Do you agree that you have earned a punishment for what you did?" I asked him. Once again I leaned over his face and tried to sound firm as he caught more than a glimpse of my nipples. I placed my gloved hands on each of his shoulders and held him in place for several seconds as if to emphasize my question. As I slowly stood back up I allowed my fingertips to graze his heaving chest, causing him to inhale deeply.

"Yes Ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am."

Without another word, I began to run one of my scarves up and down his exposed body. He twitched and giggled, but I kept at it, sliding the scarf closer and closer to his erection. Finally, I ran it all the way around his penis without actually coming into contact with it and then back up over his stomach and hairless chest.

"Haha, Mrs. Mount; that tickles!" He blurted out loudly.

"Quiet! You better not alert the neighbors, young man," I warned, as I switched to my pink feather boa. I knew it would bother him even more, and I was prepared for his reaction. I glided it slowly down his chest, over his nipples and belly, paying particular attention to his straining penis as it reacted to the exquisitely intense sensations provided by the feathers. My other hand followed close behind the boa, as I teased him some more with my plush glove, gliding my fingers slowly down the length of his thin frame.

"Oh my god, Mrs. Mount!" he almost shouted out, to the degree that I had no choice but to cover his loud mouth with my gloved hand.

"Shush, you!" I admonished. "It's going to get much harder from here!" I wasn't sure if he caught my double meaning, but it didn't really matter. I still smiled to myself. I continued to tease his slender squirming body, but then I added his vulnerable hairless armpits to the mix, and he about jumped out of his skin. He protested as best he could, though I hoped that my gloved hand would succeed in muffling his objections, even as his unrestrained legs thrashed about wildly in response to my evil torture. I was very much immersed in our little fantasy game by now, and I was overcome with sheer lust. But it also set off some serious alarm bells that I knew had to be addressed before we went any further. I had to think fast:

"Okay, Scott, I'm going to stop tickling you now. I'll give you two choices: you can either get dressed and go home, or if you feel like you deserve more punishment, you can agree to stay and suffer the consequences. What'll it be?" It was a risky ultimatum, but it would tell me if my actions traumatized him, or if my instincts had been right about him all along. I could hear him mumbling something and I looked down to discover that my hand was still covering his mouth.

"Oh, sorry about that, Scottie," I said as I pulled my hand back and gently stroked his cheek on my way to caressing his head full of curls. "So what's your answer?"

He hesitated at first. I wasn't sure if he was deep in thought or just hypnotized by the feel of my soft glove on his skin.

"What other kind of punishment?" he finally asked.

"Well, you see, that's the thing. You won't know what it's going to be unless you agree to stay," I replied as I gleefully watched the wheels spinning in his mind. "So you can leave right now, no questions asked. But if you decide to stay, you agree to do as I say, and you'll leave only when I tell you to go. Is that understood?" I figured I might help him with his response by running my index finger slowly down his smooth torso, and hesitating just above his erect penis. I shuddered a bit myself, just thinking of what a good tease I was.

"I'll stay," he blurted out in exasperation.

I didn't hesitate. I walked to the bottom of the bed and straightened out his still trembling legs and slowly massaged each one. The soft suede gloves seemed to calm him down and relax him. But just as he was lulled into a false sense of relaxation, I allowed my index finger to roam from the base of his cock up to the tip and back down again. He let out a yelp so loud: I thought the head of his manhood might explode clean off. I lunged atop his body and grasped his neck with both hands, squeezing moderately.

"I told you to be quiet!" I sneered at him as mean sounding as I could muster. "Okay, now we are going to have to do something about these outbursts of yours, because obviously you can't control yourself!" With that, I crawled back down his body, making as much contact as possible until I was again standing at the foot of the bed. I grabbed hold of his (really my) pair of red panties, and barked at him to lift up. As he obeyed, I slithered the panties down his legs and took them off. I climbed back on top of him, balled up the dainty underwear and stuffed them into his gagging mouth. I finished by placing a hand over his now closed mouth. A look of panic took over his eyes, but I got up on my knees and leaned over him so that my tits were but inches from his face.

"You are to hold those panties in your mouth until I tell you otherwise, understand?"

He shook his head in a desperate manner. I think he knew I meant business. I turned around on the bed and got on my knees. My legs straddled his face as I lie down over top of his bare body; my semi-exposed breasts resting on his stomach. I began by fondling his erection, massaging it and squeezing it ever so gently. The sensuous nature of my gloves on his most tender skin caused his penis to become even stiffer. I could feel his body shuddering underneath mine. I leaned down further and began kissing up and down his quivering shaft with my steaming hot lips. Despite his best efforts, he let out a deep moan as my eager tongue followed suit. I looked back and glared at him.

"Okay, that's it! You asked for this!" With that, I eased my hips down over his face until his panty filled mouth was crushed by my wet sex. I made sure his nasal passages were unobstructed so he could still breathe, and then I lay back down on his body and resumed my oral assault on his beautiful penis. As per plan, I licked and sucked on him for about thirty seconds, even as I ground my pussy all over his lips and face. And then I did the cruelest thing in my entire life. I jumped up with a start, rolled off the bed and stood right up as soon as my feet hit the floor:

"Oh my goodness! Will you look at the time?" I feverishly freed his bound arms as I went on: "We must hurry; else you'll be late for dinner! Your mother will wonder where you are! She'll likely call the police! Oh dear!" I pulled him up off the bed and abruptly yanked my panties from his mouth, causing him to gag and choke a little. I paid him no mind. I was on a mission: I buttoned his shirt and threw his tie at him.

"Put this on while I get the rest of your clothes from the closet," I commanded. As his unsteady hands fumbled with his tie, I grabbed his briefs and school pants, shoes and socks and ran back to him. I took his briefs and tossed them aside.

"No time for them now, here hold your leg up!" As he did so, I "accidentally" grazed his still hard penis with my hand a few times, as I struggled to get his pants on properly. As he was still finishing with his tie, I had succeeded with his slacks. All that was left was to zip them up, but his erection was in a precarious position, so I had no choice but to take it and 'squeeze' it into his pants, as it were, and hold it there longer than necessary while I pretended to have trouble with the zipper. I pushed him down onto my vanity chair and as we worked together to get his socks and shoes on properly, I took the opportunity to do some investigating:

"Do you have a lot of homework to do after dinner, Scott?"

"Well, no ma'am, not that I need to do tonight, seeing as how it's Friday, and the weekend and all," he reminded me.

"Oh, that's good then! I've decided not to go to that dreadful party this evening, so since I'm already home I suppose I can tend to the fish tonight if you have something you'd rather to do on a Friday night," I suggested slyly. I couldn't wait to hear his reaction.

"No, that won't be necessary," he began thoughtfully, "after all, you did hire me to feed the fish tonight and…er…does anyone know you're already home?"

"Why, no I don't think so. I parked my car in the garage as usual," I answered.

"Okay, good…and besides, you haven't finished punishing me yet, have you?"

"Hmmm, well I suppose I could use your help straightening up the closet," I offered, playing along.

"I'll be over right after I eat dinner and do my chores!" he announced as slung his backpack over his shoulder and burst out the door.

I watched him as he ran through the back yard towards his house. And then I turned around and headed straight for the bedroom closet. I knelt down in front of my private box and rummaged around until I found my extra-large, lifelike prototype of a male phallus and cradled it gently in my arms as I plopped down on my bed, spread my legs wide and easily buried it deep inside of me in an effort to satisfy my wanton lust.

I couldn't recall ever having such an intense reaction to self-stimulated orgasms in my entire life. My libido was in overdrive, and why wouldn't it be? All that teasing affected us both, after all. I pounded my hot cunt with a vigor I didn't know I possessed, and I came several times before I passed out from utter exhaustion. I must have slept for quite some time before coming around enough to sense that a pair of eyes was staring at me. It took a few extra moments before it registered, and sure enough, I looked across the room and there sat Scott on my vanity chair, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, just mesmerized by the sight of me: dildo still snugly implanted between my legs, being held in place by my one hand, while my other hand clutched the pair of briefs that Scott 'didn't have time' to put on before he rushed home for dinner.

My extreme blushing gave way to a huge grin on Scott's face. Heaven only knows how long he'd been sitting there, intently taking in the scenery. I sat bolt upright and tried to conceal all evidence, to no avail. I was afraid to even look at him, much less say anything. Mercifully, he was the one to break the ice:

"I let myself in through the back door," he began calmly; "I hope you don't mind. I just thought we were pretending that you weren't home yet, and so I used the key like I always do."

I couldn't argue with his logic, but I was still in too much of a state of shock to reply. Finally, after along and awkward pause, he spoke again:

"I cleaned out the tank, changed the filter, and fed the fish while I was…er…waiting for you to wake up from your…uh…nap."

My curiosity caused my mouth to open and utter a question:

"How long have you been here, Scott?"

"Uh, I'm not really sure: I guess for an hour or so…at least," he answered. "I didn't have much to do at home. Mom took the little ones out to the mall and a movie afterwards, so I got here earlier than I thought I would."

After I made no effort to comment, he surprised me with his next line:

"I can leave if you want me to," he offered. Well, that one took me by surprise and finally brought me back around to reality:

"Oh no, Scott, of course not! I want you to stay. We have my closet to tidy up and you have more punishment coming, young man, in case you forgot," I reminded him, as I tried to subtly remove the toy that was still jammed inside my sex.

"No ma'am, I didn't forget!" he replied quickly and enthusiastically.

"Okay, well, sit tight for a minute while I use the bathroom," I instructed.

I slid off the side of the bed, wrapped Scott's white briefs around my now extricated dildo and spirited off to the bathroom. As I relieved myself, I wiped off my toy with Scott's underwear and then I 'seasoned' them further by wiping the pee off my vagina in the same manner. I left both articles on the side of the sink for the time being. As I washed my hands, I made a mental note to send Scott home later with his recently scented briefs. If he was curious about my rubber plaything, he could feel free to inspect it too, I thought devilishly.

I strode back into the bedroom as confidently as I could muster. Aside from my gloves and heels, I was still wearing my all white ensemble. Even though we had quite an explicit display of debauchery earlier, I managed a guilty blush notwithstanding. It reminded me how taken I was with my young charge. But before we went any further I had to elicit some stronger evidence of his interest and willingness, lest I end up violating his innocence in the worst possible way.

"Okay, young man, off to the closet with you then! We have some work to do in there, if you recall," I reminded him as I followed him to the closet. The first thing we encountered was my special boxful of fetish goodies that had so captivated his attention earlier.

"Let's start with this," I suggested, pointing to the now chaotic array of articles poking out, "you might as well empty the box and we'll repack it from the beginning. Scott began pulling various bits of sexy clothing and erotic implements from the box and placing them on the floor. His eyes grew wide as he examined each item: clips, clamps and insertable objects of every size and shape; ropes and ties and gags and blindfolds…it was a veritable cornucopia of sex toys and enhancements the likes of which I'm sure he had not known had even existed. Each item brought back so many fond memories of the kinky sessions I had enjoyed with my dear husband. So, I was rather taken aback when Scott laughed out loud as he held up a miniature whip of sorts: it was a replica of a cat-o-nine-tails with a short handle attached to nine thin strands of leather.

"What is this supposed to be?" he snickered. While I appreciated that he seemed to be getting more comfortable in my presence, I recalled some intense moments with my Morgan and that play whip. I admitted to Scott that it certainly wasn't much of a whip indeed, but with the proper technique it could produce a reasonable sting. He laughed at my premise with just enough sarcasm that I found myself taking affront.

"Okay then, I'll show you what I mean! Take off your shorts and turn around!" I must have said it with some authority, because the smirk disappeared from his face and he stood up and complied immediately. To my delight, he wore no underwear.

"So! Going 'Commando' tonight, are we?"

"Huh?"

Realizing he was too young to understand my reference, I refocused:

"Never mind, Scott. I see you aren't wearing any underwear," I stated, noticing that his penis was hardly aroused.

"Well, that's because you took…I mean, because I left my underwear here earlier," he reminded me; like I needed to be reminded!

"Yes, of course! We'll discuss your briefs later. Now, turn around and put your hands on your knees for me," I ordered. As he complied, I applied the small whip to his buttocks as gently as possible. He chuckled bravely.

"What was that? A butterfly going by?" he boasted bravely.

Hearing his sarcastic remark got him several moderate lashes that he wiggled his ass at in mock response. But now I had him set up with his false sense of machismo: I reared back and laid that whip onto his sweet precious bottom with my full strength: WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! And several more for good measure.

His response was immediate: "WHOA! WHOA! OW!! DAMN!! OUCH! OKAY STOP! I GET IT!!"

I stopped as I grinned from ear to ear. The little twerp! He reached around to rub his butt, but I wouldn't allow it:

"NO! STOP! DON'T TOUCH IT!" I commanded, as I slid my fingers into my long gloves once again. With that, he resumed his position, even as his ass shifted uncomfortably from the sting that continued to take its effect. I took pity on him and I began caressing his smooth ass cheeks with the soft touch provided by my gloves. He calmed down considerably when he realized that my gloves were back in play. He seemed to crave their velvety texture as much as my Morgan had, and it brought me joy to realize the similarity.

"So you see, Scottie, that even though an object might seem like nothing more than an amusing toy, when used applied, it can produce an astounding amount of power," I pointed out, as I continued to soothe his burning mounds of flesh in my gloved palms.

"Y…Yes Ma'am!" he replied, chastened and sufficiently admonished.

"So, remember that for later, because that toy whip may come into play again before the night ends," I suggested cryptically.

Kneeling behind him while he maintained his position, I thought I might accentuate my lesson by taking the opportunity to tease his scrotum filled with testicles and fresh young semen. I started out by running my index finger around the perimeter of his ball sac, followed by gently squeezing his vulnerable treasures. Pleading moans soon followed from deep down in his lungs as I massaged his 'dangling participles' with increasing intensity. I reminded him that 'punishment' comes in a variety of expressions, but all he could do was to continue groaning in response.

Emboldened by my clever wordplay as well as my newly developing penchant for teasing, I decided to up the ante; I abandoned his gonads and focused my attention on his anus. I gently but firmly grasped each of his bum cheeks in my gloved hands and spread them apart. His reaction was to try to clench them shut, but my grip was mightier than his will at that point. I gasped at the exquisite sight of his tight little pucker surrounded by the smoothest and slickest perianal area that had ever seen the light of day…or night. (There I go again!) I didn't even think about leaning in and licking his exposed forbidden entrance: I just did it. No thought necessary.

He naturally winced and tried to jerk away from my determined tongue, to no avail. He exhaled a series of sounds that were indistinguishable as he resisted the inevitable. Undeterred, I licked his sweet anal area before plunging my stiff tongue into his rectum. I had to slap his tender cheeks and grab hold of his balls in an effort to rein him in, but it worked. He held still long enough for me to bury my tongue up his quivering hole as my hand released his scrotum and felt for his now well-stimulated erection. As was my M.O. by now, I pulled back and stood up. He seemed genuinely irritated with me, which was half the reason I did what I did.

"Let's take a break, shall we? I'm famished. You may have eaten dinner, but I…um…'slept' through my dinner time. Do you mind?" I asked as innocently as I could. By then he was standing up straight and rubbing the small of his back.

"No, Mrs. Mount, whatever you say," he replied dryly, while still wondering what had just happened to him.

"Okay, let's move into the kitchen then. And please be a dear and bring the whip, the blindfold, and the hand cuffs with you."

"Yes ma'am," he replied, an inquisitiveness look on his face.

I already had the refrigerator open by the time he got there.

"While I eat this salad, I have a game for us to play. I have a bunch of desserts left over from last week's party, and I want you to guess what they are: blindfolded. Are you willing?" I challenged him.

"Well, sure!" he answered.

"Okay, good! Sit right in front of me here, and bring me the hand cuffs." I instructed. He complied, and soon his hands were behind his back, the hand cuffs in place. I made it a point to secure the key in a safe place, and then I applied the black blindfold over his eyes, and the scene was set.

I went back to my salad and began to eat it, saying nothing. I wanted him to get acclimated to his new position before continuing with my particular method of madness. In between bites, I started bringing out various goodies from the fridge and placing them on the table. Scott waited patiently at first, but he began to squirm around in anticipation. I was a little edgy myself, and I leaned in and seductively caressed his face, slowly moving down his shoulders and upper body before I removed my gloves. The first thing I did was touch my pussy with my bare finger. I wasn't surprised to discover some serious dampness between my legs. I finished my salad as I silently took in the scene in front of me: here was a most adorable young lad sitting helplessly; blindfolded and cuffed and ready for my next instruction.

"Are you comfortable, Scott?" I asked, as I pushed two fingers into my well-lubricated pussy.

"I guess so, considering…" he replied.

"Good! Here's the game: I will feed you different things and you try to identify them. Simple enough, right?"

"Sounds pretty easy," he answered, with a bewildered look on his face.

"Here goes!" I warned him.

With my two fingers drenched in my most intimate bodily fluids, I took a strawberry with a bit of white icing from a piece of cake and held it to his lips. "Lick it, and tell me if you know what it is."

"Mmmm, it's a strawberry…sweet…it must have icing on it!" I fed him the fruit as his reward, making sure he also got a taste of my own sweet nectar in the process.

"Correct! Now how about this?" I dipped my fingers back into my vagina and then I held a small hunk of cherry cheesecake to his lips. He opened up and I gently pushed it into his mouth.

"Oh, that tastes like cherry cheesecake!" he declared, and I clapped my hands.

"Lick it off my fingers, Scott, will you?" He willingly compl