Tom awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Eyes opening upon the ceiling, he immediately recalled his dream from the night before.
I’ve dreamt about Ms. Lione a lot, but never in greater detail than that, he marveled to himself. I better write this one down before I forget it.
Rolling over, Tom noticed an unfamiliar nightstand and paused. Dumbfounded, he turned back over and saw a mirror.
That’s strange, he thought. My room doesn’t have a full-length mirror.
A few moments passed. Finally, through the fog in his stirring brain, Tom realized that he hadn’t been dreaming after all. Bolting up from the bed, he slapped his cheek lightly with an open hand.
“Shit, this really did happen!” he said aloud softly. “I actually had sex with Ms. Lione! Yes!”
Rising from Ms. Lione’s king-sized bed, Tom saw no evidence of his lover from the previous night — just a white cotton men’s bathroom folded neatly on a chair by the nightstand. Tom picked up the robe and wrapped and tied it around his naked body. Opening Ms. Lione’s bedroom door he was immediately hit with the smell of pancakes sizzling on a griddle. Tentatively, he walked down the hallway and descended the staircase.
Following his nose to the kitchen, Tom got his first glimpse of his lover, standing with her back to him, leaning over the stove. Dressed in a tight black top, an even tighter pair of stylish black designer jeans were tucked into her ubiquitous knee-high, high-heeled black boots.
As Tom drank in the scene of her firm ass gently rocking and swaying, a hard-on began to press against his robe. I don’t care how old she is, he said to himself, admiring her like a fine work of art in a museum, this isn’t your father’s librarian. What a body. I can’t believe I actually slept with it. How lucky can I get?
Sensing that she wasn’t alone in the room anymore, Ms. Lione finally turned around.
“Well, it’s about time you got up,” she said with a smile, sauntering sexily over to her young lover, the sole and three inch heels of her boots click clacking on the linoleum kitchen floor. “I thought you were going to sleep right through the weekend. You came within minutes of getting my patented wake-up call; guaranteed to get a rise out of any man — and it has.”
“Sounds like a call that would have been worth a few more zzzzs,” Tom said.
The two embraced, wrapping their arms around each other’s respective waists and moved their faces close for a soft, passionate open-mouthed kiss.
“Someone could use a toothbrush,” said Angelina slyly, ten seconds later when the pair unlocked lips. “I unwrapped one for you in the upstairs bathroom. Are you hungry? I made you some breakfast. Like pancakes?”
“Starving,” said Tom, his penis hard as steel and his hands still clasped around Angelina’s waist.
“Sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”
The two uncoupled and Tom eased himself onto a chair at the small circular kitchen table.
“Coffee, tea or me?” purred Angelina with a laugh after she’d retreated to the refrigerator.
“You — any day,” smiled Tom. “And I’ll have a cup of tea, too, please.”
Returning to the table, Angelina set a steaming mug of green tea and a large stack of pancakes in front of her hungry young paramour.
“You really worked up an appetite last night,” she said, sitting across from him at the table, fingers absentmindedly playing with the material of her plunging neck line.”
“Yeah, that was really something,” responded Tom, stabbing at his heaping stack of flapjacks with a fork. “But, you passed out before I…ummm… finished. Are you okay?”
“Okay?! Are you kidding? That was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced.”
Angelina reached across the table and gently grabbed Tom’s hand.
“You were so tender, yet forceful,” she said, softly caressing the top of his hand with her thumb. “I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s not the first time I’ve fainted during sex, but no man has ever had quite that effect on me before. Somehow, you knew every button to push on my body at exactly the right time.”
“Well, that was nine years of stored up passion. I’ve wanted to make love to you since I was 13 and have never wanted to make love to any woman like I made love to you. Listen, Angelina, things happened so fast between us last night, and then you fainted, so I didn’t have a chance to ask…”
“You’re not married, are you?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Whewww. That’s a relief. Wait, but who’s the ‘we’ you were talking about, who you go to Rotini’s with?”
“My sister’s family and my mother. They live next door.”
“No boyfriend either?
“Whose robe am I wearing, then?”
“A former lover’s. I keep it around for overnight guests.”
“Do you have a lot of overnight guests?” asked Tom cautiously, jealously.
Angelina leaned closer to Tom.
“Let’s just say, I’m accepting applications at the moment,” she answered flirtatiously.
“I see,” said Tom, playing along with Ms. Lione’s game. “What’s muğla escort in it for me if I get the job?”
“You get to have direct deposit.”
“Every two weeks?”
“Nahhh-ahhh. More like every two hours. If you’re up for the job. It’s a very demanding workload, you know.”
“I don’t think I’d have any trouble going to work every day. I’d even volunteer for overtime.”
“Oh, really? Then, by my body clock, I think it’s time to start the second interview.”
A roguish smile crept across Ms. Lione’s face and fire burned in her eyes from behind her large-framed glasses as she leaned in further to Tom. Meeting his lover halfway, the two began to kiss softly on the lips. Seconds later the pair rose as one from the table and joined bodies. Still kissing, Tom pressed his body against Angelina’s and moved his hands behind her, grabbing her ass at both cheeks and squeezing them gently like they were two balloons.
Tom’s penis extended quickly and forced its way through his robe, striking Angelina’s camel toe. Meanwhile, the hyper-sexually aroused librarian’s pussy began self-lubricating. The two continued with foreplay for the next several minutes, until Angelina finally came up for air.
“Do me,” she said panting.
“I’ll carry you upstairs,” her partner responded.
“No. There isn’t time. Let’s do it here.”
“On the floor?”
“Yes. Oh my God, I’m so attracted to you.”
Tom did as he was told, gently lowering Angelina’s body to the kitchen tile and disrobing.
“Do you want to take your clothes off?” asked the fully naked young man.
“No,” moaned Angelina, her breasts heaving and face flush from their sexual activity. “Just unzip my pants and get inside me.”
Quickly, Tom obeyed, slid down her already sopping wet red panties and popped his swollen penis inside her bloated clitoris. Both let out a simultaneous groan and lay contented and still for a moment on the hard floor.
Then, slowly at first, Tom brought his penis out of Angelina’s pussy and proceeded to plunge it back in. Then out. Descending deeper into her warm, gushy cavity with each powerful thrust, like a pumpjack on an oil well, he methodically but delicately kept at his task for fifteen hard minutes. Finally, with one last nose-dive Tom struck oil. It was a gusher.
“OH….OHHHH….OHHHHHH!!!!” moaned Angelina in increasing volumes of ecstasy, as the two simultaneously peaked — Tom cumming with the force of water rushing through an uncoiled firehose and Angelina’s orgasm surging to the top floor.
At sex’s end, Tom lay on top of Angelina for a minute; too spent to stand and Angelina in no rush to have him remove his oh-so- satisfying penis from her vagina.
“Man, that was great,” Tom said when he’d finally gotten the strength to lift off of his lover. “Did you like it?”
“What do you think?” asked Angelina sarcastically, still struggling to catch her breath. “You practically fucked me into next week.”
The two lay on their backs recovering until Angelina turned over and placed her left hand on Tom’s heaving chest.
“I think I’m becoming addicted to you,” said Angelina, gently combing what little chest hair Tom had with her long thin fingers with the fire engine red nail polish.
“There are certainly worse addictions,” responded Tom, smiling sweetly at his lover.
The couple cuddled in silence for several minutes until the inherent discomfort of their surroundings forced them off the floor.
“I’ll clean up here. Why don’t you grab a shower?” Angelina told Tom, before straining to reach her 6’2″ lover by standing on the tip toes of her boots and sending him off to the bathroom with a kiss on the lips.
No more than two minutes into freshening up, Angelina surprised Tom, joining her lover in the shower. Despite now twice having sex, it was the first time that Tom had seen Angelina naked and he loved the sight. Her body had more tone than a 51-year old woman had a right to and her breasts — while just average in size — were firm and perky. She looked so good naked that Tom almost forgot that it was his boot and smoking fetishes that attracted Angelina to him.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Tom asked.
“I could use some washing up, too,” said Angelina, a twinkle showing in her green-brown eyes.
Tom took the bar of soap he was clutching and began rubbing it delicately over Angelina’s chest.
“That’s not where I need cleaning,” she scolded him playfully, taking Tom’s soap-filled hand and bringing it down to her clit.
Tom became aroused, but not enough to make up for the fact that he had already cummed a rushing river into Angelina only some ten minutes earlier. The librarian seemed to understand even her virile young lover’s limitations and was content to have Tom work his magic fingers instead on her pussy for the next fifteen minutes in his own interpretation of a shower massage.
“You don’t have any plans today, do you?” asked Angelina, after the two dried off, as she stepped a booted foot on a chair in her bedroom muş escort and zipped it up over the same jeans she wore to make love in that morning.
“No, we can spend all day together, if you have no other plans,” said Tom, slipping his boxer shorts over a bulging woody brought forth by the sight of Angelina zipping up her boots.
“Good. Why don’t we grab some lunch at this little café in town? We could try to live on love but you’re a growing boy and need some nourishment.”
“First, we should call a mechanic about your car.”
“We can pick it up on the way.”
“But it doesn’t start, remember?”
“Yes, it does.”
“What? But, you couldn’t get it to turn over.”
“I wasn’t really trying.”
“Yup, I wanted you to take me home.”
“But you didn’t have to go to that much trouble.”
“Yes, I did. You weren’t going to get inside me that easily. I had to challenge you first and see how you’d react and you responded ex-act-ly like I hoped you would.”
“But how’d you know I wouldn’t just leave when you were insulting me?”
“A calculated gamble, but I knew you wanted me enough to put up with the abuse.”
“So, that was all a test? Geeze that’s cold.”
“Playing games sometimes makes things interesting, my love. Let’s get something to eat. I’m famished. This time it’s my treat.”
With both her boots zipped up, Angelina sauntered to her closet pulled out a smart looking tan blazer and slipped it on.
“Drop me off at Rotini’s,” she continued, picking up her matching pocketbook and turning toward the bedroom door. “You can follow me to the café from there.”
A few minutes later Tom pulled his car up to Angelina’s red VW in Rotini’s parking lot. Hopping out, Angelina turned the lock on the driver’s side and slid in. Inserting the key in the ignition, the engine turned over on the first try. Gripping the top of the steering wheel with her black leather gloved hands, Angelina smiled coyly through the front windshield at Tom. The hot librarian then proceeded to pump the gas pedal with her booted foot, revving the engine slowly then progressively quicker and repeating the pattern three times as if imitating how her partner had been making love to her.
My lord what a nymph she is, Tom said to himself, another erection developing in his pants. Is sex all this woman thinks about? She’s gonna wear me out.
Angelina then put her car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot, Tom following close behind.
“I think you were tailgating me,” said Angelina impishly, crossing her booted legs, the leather footwear squeaking from the friction, as the pair sat down a short time later at an outdoor table at the café. “Maybe when we get back to my house, I’ll let you rear end me in another way.”
Between bites of her avocado and asparagus salad Angelina asked Tom about his career — becoming increasingly physically attracted to him as he told her of his entry-level job as a copy editor for a major publishing house in the city.
“Have to say, Angelina, the past 24 hours has been like a dream to me,” said Tom over dessert. “I know so far it’s been pretty much all physical, but this time with you has been better than I could have imagined.”
“My thoughts exactly, my love,” she said, taking Tom’s hand in her gloved hand bringing it to her full lipstick covered lips and kissing it while staring intently into his eyes. “You’re quite the lover.”
“You bring it out in me, Angelina. But what I really can’t believe, though, is how a beautiful, sophisticated and incredibly sexy woman like you can still be single. It doesn’t make sense to me. You must get asked out all the time, right?”
“At my age?” Angelina said with a harummph, looking back at her salad and picking at it with her fork. “Not exactly. And there’s not a large pool of eligible men to choose from at school.”
“So, you don’t date at all?”
“Not much in the last few years, I’m afraid. Although you were right. The maitre ‘d at Rotinis was hitting on me. He even asked me out on a date.”
“What did you tell him?”
“At the time, prospects for us couldn’t have looked bleaker. This was right after you had trouble lighting my cigarette holder. I told him I’d call him the next day to confirm the date.”
Sweat formed on Tom’s brow.
“Will you?” he asked nervously.
“Depends on what?”
“Depends on if you want to make us an exclusive, monogamous couple or not.”
“Really? Are you kidding?”
“Darling, I never kid about romance. You’ve stirred feelings and passions in me that haven’t been touched in a long time. Honestly, I don’t know if what you and I have is nothing more than raw, animal lust, but my women’s intuition hints that it’s more intimate, and if that’s the case then I owe it to myself to pursue a relationship with you, my dear. “
“Angelina, this is all happening so fast, my head’s spinning. But I do know that I don’t want to be with anyone else! I’ve wanted to be with you since I was 13. I don’t think nevşehir escort we have anything to lose by seeing if we’re compatible outside of the bedroom.”
“Or the kitchen floor…or shower…or anywhere else we feel like making love. The worst that could happen is that we’ll experience perhaps the best sex of our lives. And if that’s wrong, then I don’t want to be right. I can think of no better way to consummate our new arrangement than back at my place after lunch?”
“I’m ready to consummate it now on this table.”
“Down, boy. We’ll be home soon. Oh, damn.”
Oh, damn what?”
“I have to go on a date after all.”
“With the maitre’d?”
“No. Every year, Riverdale hosts this bachelorette auction for charity. I’m already signed up for it. It’s next week. I can’t back out now.”
“Are you sure? I don’t know if I like this. How does it work?”
“Relax, darling, it’s nothing to get jealous about. I’ve been doing this for over 10 years now. Myself and the other bachelorettes at the school take turns parading around a converted runway in the Riverdale auditorium, while gentlemen in the audience bid on us. The highest bidder wins a date.”
“I really don’t like the idea of some rich, horny guy bidding for a date with you.”
“Believe me, if it’s anything like the past few years nothing will happen on the date.”
“What do you wear? Nothing too sexy, I hope.”
“Just a little number from my personal wardrobe. This year, I’ll be modeling a low-cut, but tasteful maroonish-red evening gown with a pair of suede, matching-colored, knee-high, high-heeled boots. And for a special touch — my signature accessory — I’ll be smoking from my long cigarette holder, like a professional model might do when she walks the runway. It’s a knockout look.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. What man could resist that?”
“Well, I personally have the highest bids of any bachelorette each year, so my use of the cigarette holder might have something to do with it. You should come and watch, it’s fun.”
“I don’t know that I could sit idly by and watch strange men lusting after you, trying to top the next highest bidder. Sounds depressing, not fun.”
“Well, you could bid.”
“Yeah, I could. How much did last year’s winner bid?”
“Two thousand dollars, if I recall correctly.”
“Two grand?!” Oh, my God!”
“You don’t think I’m worth that amount?” Angelina asked in mock indignation.
“No, I don’t.”
Angelina now looked seriously peeved.
“You’re priceless, Angelina,” Tom continued.
“Darlingggg,” Angelina purred, happy again.
“I can’t afford to pay that amount, Angelina. I’m just out of school.”
“I know. But you could try. Who knows, maybe I won’t attract such a high amount this year. But, it is for a good cause…to raise money for the new gymnasium. And, you can write it off on your taxes.”
“Yeah. Okay, I’ll give it a try. Still, if I don’t win, anyone who pays that amount of money for one date must want something in return.”
“You mean, like sex?”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Don’t worry. I haven’t gone to bed with a charity auction date for a few years, but if it happens this time, I promise to think of you when I’m making love.”
“That’s not funny, Angelina. I’m a nervous wreck.”
“Oh, I was just teasing you back, darling. Now that I’ve had the best, I’m not going to settle for the rest. Oh, my dates always want to have sex, but that really would have been charity on my part. The pickings aren’t nearly as good lately as they used to be. The desperation in the air has been so thick you could cut it with a knife. Every one of my dates the past three years ended with my date proposing marriage. I think I must have been the only woman they’ve ever been out with. They were so socially awkward. Although, they weren’t so inept that they couldn’t operate my cigarette lighter when I took out my holder at dinner.”
“You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Don’t worry, my pet. You’ll get more than enough practice lighting me.”
“And you never went out on more than one date with them?”
“My dear, if they were so sexually inexperienced that they proposed on the first date, I knew they weren’t worth pursuing beyond that. I’m NOT going to get engaged on the first date to some middle aged CPA, who still lives with his mother. But I’ll go on one short, benign date with some loser and that’ll be it, okay?”
“Will you tell him upfront that you’re already spoken for?”
“I don’t think that would go over very well, darling. After paying that much money he’d expect I’d be eligible and would undoubtedly have romantic designs for me. Best I let him down easy without mentioning I already have a boyfriend. Besides, if the next one is anything like my last few dates, he’s bound to shoot himself in the foot during the evening.”
“Okay. Outside of the auctions, you used to date a lot, though, right? You must have.”
“Sure. When I was younger I went out with a different date every night. Blondes, brunettes, redheads. One even proposed after an hour and a half.”
“And you turned him down?”
“Get married? At that time it was too much fun being single. Although, I was in a long-term relationship a few years ago.”