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Message-ID: <43358asstr$1057979405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: anais ninja <anais_ninja@hotmail.com>
User-Agent: Xnews/5.04.25
Subject: {ASSM} Gander [Part 1] (Fb oral anal rom)
Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2003 23:10:05 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Gander [Part 1]
(c) 2003  Anais Ninja
anais_ninja@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/anais_ninja/www/


This story was inspired by "Touched by an Angel", by Tyger and
Daphne, which can be found here:

     http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/tyger/stories/angel.txt


                              * * * 

 
"Ladies and gentlemen, we've got what's probably just a faulty engine 
indicator light here.  I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, but just to 
be on the safe side we're going to divert to Gander International 
Airport and take a look at the problem on the ground.  Should be landing 
in about an hour.  Sorry for the inconvenience." 
 
The passengers began to murmur after the pilot finished his 
announcement.  One man angrily summoned a flight attendant, explaining 
that he absolutely had to be in New York that evening.  She patiently 
told him that there wasn't anything she could do, and that rules are 
rules, especially FAA and airline  procedures. 
 
"Are you okay, Tommy?"  I reached across the armrest and took his hand, 
and he smiled wanly, putting on a brave face for me. 
 
"Yes, ma'am," he said, just a hint of apprehension in his voice. 
 
"I'm sure it's nothing." 
 
"Nothing," he repeated, squeezing my hand. 
 
My nervous fellow passenger was twelve going on thirteen, a handsome 
young boy from London, off to visit his aunt in New York, where she 
taught physics at Columbia.  It wasn't his first time on an airplane, 
but it was his first trip overseas and his first time traveling alone. 
 
I was on my way home from a conference, a week-long symposium on 
emergency pediatrics, my medical specialty, and I was looking forward to 
going home, sleeping in my own bed, eating a home-cooked meal, drinking 
latte instead of tea.  As much as I love London, I missed New York 
terribly, my home for twenty years, nearly half my life. 
 
I'd intended on skimming some of the papers that had been presented at 
the conference to get a head start on the meeting I'd be having with my 
department head and the Chief of Staff on Monday.  But most of the last 
few hours had been spent conversing with Tommy, a bright young man with 
a quick wit and an engaging smile.  He was excited about seeing the 
United States for the first time, and had myriad questions about the 
country and the city.  Now his excitement had become apprehension as we 
soared over the icy waters of the North Atlantic in a plane that might 
lose one of its two engines. 
 
"Here we go," I said, hearing the pilot throttle back the jets. 
 
"We're going to make it, right?" 
 
"Yes," I said, for my benefit as well as his.  "Everything's going to be 
okay."  I held his hand the whole time, from the pilot's nonchalant 
announcement until the plane set down on the runway.  As we taxied to 
the terminal, one of the engines began to belch big clouds of black 
smoke.  The pilot shut it down immediately, and the flight attendants 
got everyone ready to evacuate the plane, opening the exits and 
inflating the emergency egress slides. 
 
Tommy slid down the plastic chute first, his sandy hair blowing in the 
breeze as I watched him descend.  One of the flight attendants helped 
him to his feet, and then it was my turn.  I had to remove my high heels 
first, and I nearly lost my footing at the threshold, but I slid down 
after him, surprised at the cold air that blew up my skirt.  Tommy took 
my hand and helped me up, and another flight attendant guided us to one 
of the waiting shuttle buses.  As we waited a safe distance from the 
plane, we watched an airport fire crew spray foam on the smoking engine.  
There were small tongues of flame visible inside the intake, and a whole 
section of the wing was blackened and scorched. 
 
"I guess it's not just an indicator light, Dr. Rankin," Tommy said.  
"Where are we?" 
 
"Gander," I said.  "Canada, I think." 
 
"Newfoundland," said the driver, a middle-aged man in blue coveralls.  
Another few passengers boarded the bus and we drove off, heading towards 
the terminal.  Inside there was a cordoned-off area guarded by police 
and Canadian immigration officials.  We were served refreshments while 
an airport official explained that our luggage and personal belongings 
would be unloaded from the plane, and that we'd be given accommodations 
for the night, paid for by the airline.  However, until we could be 
processed through Passport Control, we'd have to stay here in the 
terminal. 
 
Fortunately, this didn't take too long.  Tommy passed the time by 
talking to one of the Mounties, who told him all about Gander 
International Airport, how it was once a major refueling stop for trans-
Atlantic flights, civilian and military, and how almost forty airliners 
had been forced to land here on September 11th, when the airspace over 
the United States had been shut down completely.  The 6,000 stranded 
passengers were fed and sheltered by the town's 10,000 residents, an 
outpouring of gracious hospitality that brought cards and letters of 
appreciation to this day. 
 
Of course, the two hundred passengers on our flight wouldn't need such 
personal care.  After our luggage and carry-on items were brought into 
the terminal, and the Customs agents had stamped everyone's passports, 
we were given vouchers by the airport official.  They were good for a 
night's stay in a hotel, dinner and breakfast, and a taxi back to the 
airport in the morning, when a replacement plane would be arriving to 
take us to New York.  For a couple of our fellow travelers this wasn't 
good enough, and as Tommy and I filed out to board another shuttle bus, 
we heard them on the phone, arranging for a private plane to take them 
home. 
 
The bus dropped us off at a Comfort Inn about three or four miles from 
the airport, and we waited in line at the registration desk to check 
into our rooms.  There was a hitch, however: the desk clerk was hesitant 
to give Tommy his own room.  Had he been just a few years older there 
would have been no problem.  I asked the clerk to summon the manager. 
 
"I'm sorry," the manager said, "but it's company policy."  His 
alternative was to place Tommy with an elderly couple in town who had 
been foster parents until a few years ago. 
 
"What if he stayed with me?" I said. 
 
"But you're not related, are you?  I'm afraid I can't..." 
 
"I'm a pediatrician," I said.  "Caring for children is my life." 
 
"I see," the manager said.  "Is this what you'd like to do, son?" 
 
"Yes, sir," Tommy replied.  "I'd like to stay with Dr. Rankin." 
 
"Very well," the manager said, handing me the key cards.  I signed the 
registration cards and gave him our vouchers.  We'd have adjoining 
rooms, connected by a locked door.  I was now responsible for Tommy 
until we boarded the replacement airliner, but it was a task I was more 
than happy to perform.  I was glad to have company in this isolated and 
windswept town. 
 
The bellhop was busy with passengers' luggage, so we brought our bags to 
the rooms by ourselves.  The rooms were small but not too cramped, and 
they were like motel rooms everywhere; double beds, dresser, desk, 
satellite television, a mini-bar, a tiny bathroom, and a closet.  I 
wasn't going to bother doing much unpacking, as we'd be leaving in the 
morning. 
 
There was a knock on the door connecting the two rooms, and I unlocked 
the latch on my side.  Tommy was smiling as he stepped through the 
doorway.  Rather than an inconvenience, this was a big adventure for 
him. 
 
"Did you call your aunt?" I asked him.  I hadn't had to make any calls; 
there wasn't anyone meeting me at the airport and I had the next couple 
of days off to get over my jetlag. 
 
"Yes, and my mum," he replied.  "They were worried, but I told them I 
had a nice lady doctor to look after me." 
 
"Getting hungry?" 
 
"Yes, very," he said.  Neither of us had been able to finish the meal we 
were served on the plane, some sort of soggy chicken cutlet with a glue-
like sauce. 
 
"Give me a minute to wash my face and we'll head down to the 
restaurant." 
 
As I headed to the bathroom to splash some water on my face, Tommy sat 
down on the bed and flipped through the TV channels with the remote.  
The water was cool and refreshing, especially after hours spent in the 
dry air of the plane.  I touched up my makeup, listening to the sound of 
a newscaster on the television, saying something about an emergency 
landing. 
 
"Dr. Rankin!  It's us!  It's the plane!" Tommy shouted.  I capped my 
lipstick and left the bathroom just in time to catch the end of the news 
report.  A television crew was already at the airport, filming the plane 
live while a reporter interviewed the official who'd handed out the 
vouchers.  He said that Canadian and American authorities were flying in 
to investigate the engine fire, along with representatives of the 
airline and the plane's manufacturer.  A replacement airliner and crew 
hadn't yet been found, but he expected them to arrive during the night.  
In the meantime, he said, the passengers and flight crew were all safe 
and had been given accommodations. 
 
"Shall we?" I asked Tommy, once the report had ended. 
 
"Yes, Dr. Rankin," he replied. 
 
"You don't have to be so formal," I said.  "You can call me Karen." 
 
"Yes, ma'am," Tommy said, blushing.  "Yes, Karen."   
 
I grabbed the key cards and my purse and we left the room, heading 
downstairs to the restaurant.  They were a bit short-handed, and it took 
a while for the hostess, a lovely young woman barely out of her teens, 
to seat us.  She returned with water, a basket of rolls and butter, and 
a pair of menus before disappearing back into the kitchen.  It was 
obvious that she'd been pressed to serve as a waitress as well, at least 
until extra help could be called into work.  I watched Tommy's gaze, his 
eyes following her shapely figure as she hurried from table to table, 
taking orders and serving drinks. 
 
"She's very pretty, isn't she?" I asked him. 
 
"Yes, she is." 
 
"So, do you have a girlfriend back home?" 
 
"Not really," Tommy said.  "There's a girl in the next block of flats 
from us that I sort of fancy." 
 
"What's her name?" 
 
"Nicole," he said, blushing again. 
 
"Have you gone out together?" 
 
"No," he said. 
 
"But you have a crush on her, right?" 
 
"I guess," he said.  "May I ask you something?" 
 
"Of course." 
 
"I'd like to ask Nicole on a date, but I don't know what to say."  Tommy 
said this in a hushed whisper, afraid he'd be overheard. 
 
"I see."  The hostess returned to take our drink orders, a Coke for 
Tommy, a glass of white wine for me.  When she was out of earshot I 
continued. 
 
"It shouldn't be hard for a handsome young man like you," I said.  "You 
just have to introduce yourself and ask if she'd like to see a movie 
sometime.  Or have lunch.  Or see a show.  Something you can enjoy 
together." 
 
"But what if she says no?" 
 
"Then she says no," I said.  "But she might say yes.  You'll never know 
unless you ask her." 
 
"Is that how you met your husband?" Tommy asked.  "You are married, 
right?" 
 
"Divorced," I said.  "Actually, I was the one who asked him out, back 
when we were residents at the same hospital." 
 
"How long were you married?" 
 
"Seven years." 
 
"Do you have kids?"  Tommy's demeanor had changed, from a boy 
embarrassed about his own shyness to an inquisitive young man, eager to 
learn about adult relationships. 
 
"I'm afraid not," I said.  It was the saddest irony of my life that I 
couldn't bear children even though I was a pediatrician, devoting my 
life to their health and welfare. 
 
"I'm sorry," Tommy said.  "I shouldn't pry into your affairs." 
 
"That's okay," I replied.  "Curiosity is a healthy thing in a young 
man." 
 
The hostess returned with our drinks and we took a few minutes to scan 
the menu.  Tommy ordered a cheeseburger and fries, and I chose a salad 
and a bowl of fish chowder, something the hostess recommended as it was 
made fresh daily.  As she left to put in our order with the kitchen, I 
raised my wineglass for a toast. 
 
"To safe landings," I said. 
 
"Safe landings," Tommy repeated.  "Cheers."  We touched our glasses 
together and drank to our good luck, having landed safely before the 
engine had burst into flames. 
 
It took quite a while for our food to arrive, but the hostess brought 
another round of drinks, and Tommy and I spent the time chatting, a 
continuation of our conversation aloft.  Little by little, I became 
enchanted with this charming young man, and I couldn't help but notice 
that his gaze had shifted from the buxom young hostess, giving my bosom 
a furtive glance every so often.  Far from being offended, I was 
flattered, and when I caught his eyes drifting down to my breasts, I 
smiled.  Tommy's face turned a deep shade of crimson. 
 
"I...I'm sorry, Dr. Rankin." 
 
"Karen," I said, reaching under the table for his hand and giving it a 
gentle squeeze.  "Boys your age can get away with things that would get 
you slapped if you were older." 
 
Tommy looked relieved, and he was about to say something, but our food 
arrived, brought by a waitress who had just come to work.  The food 
wasn't the best, but it was good enough, far superior to the meal we'd 
been served on the airplane.  Tommy must have been hungrier than he let 
on before, because he wolfed down his burger and fries, and even 
finished the rest of my salad.  After the busboy cleared the table, we 
ordered desert from the waitress, along with coffee and tea.  We shared 
a slice of chocolate cake, and when the hostess came with the check, I 
gave her both vouchers and a generous cash tip.  Tommy and I lingered 
over our hot drinks before heading back upstairs to our rooms. 
 
"You'll be okay by yourself?" I asked him as he opened the door to his 
room. 
 
"I will," he replied. 
 
"Don't hesitate to knock if you need something," I said, kissing him on 
the cheek.  He was a few inches shorter than me, and I had to lean over 
slightly to kiss him. 
 
"Thank you," he said, smiling as he closed the door.  I unlocked my room 
and went inside, taking off my jacket, blouse, and skirt, hiking up my 
slip to roll down my pantyhose.  As I laid down on the bed, my heart 
began to pound.  The realization that we could have died that day began 
to hit me, leaving me anxious.  My palms were sweaty, my throat dry, and 
there was a buzzing in my ears as adrenaline coursed through my veins.  
I'd seen this myself many times, when injured patients in my care 
suddenly realized that they could have been killed.  It was only chance, 
fate, luck, something as trivial as leaving the house a few seconds 
later or remembering to buckle a seat belt that had saved them. 
 
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to clear my head, 
running through the mechanics of the fight-or-flight response in my 
mind, the cortex, the limbic system, the hypothalamus and adrenal 
glands, adrenaline, noradrenaline, ACTH.  Like the auto accident I'd 
been in back in medical school, I knew I'd have nightmares, cold sweats, 
and I'd cringe whenever I heard the squeal of brakes or the sound of 
shattering glass.  Concentrating on the clinical aspects calmed me, 
braced me. 
 
When my hands stopped shaking, I got up from the bed and went to the 
mini-bar, a small refrigerator tucked under the vanity table outside the 
bathroom.  There were tiny bottles of liquor, splits of wine, some soda 
and mixers, along with the usual selection of nuts and candies.  I 
reached for one of the small bottles of wine, opening it and pouring it 
into a drinking glass.  As I took a sip of the dry white wine I heard a 
knock at the door connecting my room with Tommy's.  Putting down the 
glass, I went over and opened it, forgetting for a moment that I was 
just wearing a slip. 
 
"Karen..."  Tommy stood there, shaking like a leaf, his eyes filling 
with tears. 
 
"It's okay," I whispered, taking him by the hand and sitting him on my 
bed.  I sat next to him and put my arm around his shoulder.  He was 
trembling. 
 
"We...we could have..." 
 
"I know, Tommy," I cooed.  "I know.  But we didn't.  It's okay.  We're 
okay."  I wrapped my arms around him and held him.  Tommy was trying to 
stifle his sobs and choke back his tears, to be a brave young man in the 
face of his anxiety.  "Let it out," I whispered.  "Don't hold it in." 
 
I caressed his back as he sobbed, his tears soaking into the bodice of 
my slip.  In time he began to relax, the tension in his body melting 
away as he purged his anxiety.  I dried his tears and kissed him on the 
cheek as I explained how I'd felt the same way before he'd knocked on my 
door, how it was a delayed response, that mind and body sometimes worked 
on different time scales, how you could know that you were safe but feel 
otherwise. 
 
"Adrenaline?" Tommy said. 
 
"We sometimes give it to patients in acute heart failure," I said, 
holding his hand in my lap as I felt his pulse.  "That's what makes your 
heart beat faster." 
 
"I see," he said.  "I'm sorry I..." 
 
"Don't be," I said, kissing him on the cheek.  He'd taken off his suit 
jacket but still wore his tie, so I loosened it and unbuttoned the top 
button of his dress shirt.  His heart was still beating quickly, almost 
an arrhythmia, but after a few deep breaths it began to settle down into 
a steady rhythm.  Had we been in the emergency ward, I would have had a 
nurse hook him up to a heart monitor, just in case, or perhaps give him 
Atavan to calm him down. 
 
"Tommy, does your mother let you drink?" I asked him. 
 
"Alcohol?" he asked, and I nodded.  "Father lets me have a drink 
sometimes, not a whole pint, though."  I got up from the bed and went to 
the mini-bar, opening a small bottle of red wine and pouring some into a 
glass.  I returned to the bed and handed it to Tommy. 
 
"Just drink it slowly," I said.  "It'll help you relax." 
 
"Thank you," he said, taking a sip and wrinkling his nose at the taste. 
 
"I could dilute it with some water if you'd like," I said. 
 
"No, this is fine," he said.  "Thanks."  Tommy flashed me a smile, and I 
felt a gnawing hunger in my belly, a pang of desire for this handsome 
young gentleman who was not quite a teenager. 
 
I must confess that this was not the first time I'd had feelings for a 
boy his age.  My sister's child, my nephew, had kindled a fire within me 
when I visited them the previous summer at their home in Denver.  I had 
barely managed to get acclimated to the altitude when the sight of Kevin 
in his Speedo, emerging from their swimming pool, left me breathless.  
And there had been times when I was treating or examining a patient, 
often a boy in his early teens, when I would have a fleeting image of 
his smooth body on top of mine, his muscles flexing as we made love.  
I'd never acted on any of these feelings, out of a sense of propriety 
and professionalism. 
 
But the hunger remained.  In the six years since my divorce, I'd only 
dated a handful of men, mainly colleagues who understood the long hours 
and the demands of a career in medicine.  There were a few brief flings 
as well, mostly at the conferences and symposia I attended two or three 
times each year, invariably with an attendee who was married and far 
from home and hearth.  Though often satisfying sexually, these 
assignations were emotionally empty, and usually my lover would be 
ridden with guilt. 
 
Now I was on the horns of a dilemma.  Tommy was in my care.  I was 
responsible for him, and it was my credentials as a pediatrician that 
had placed me in this position.  It would be wrong to abuse this trust, 
to take advantage of this frightened young boy.  I tried as best as I 
could to push these improper thoughts to the back of my mind, but I had 
no such control over my feelings.  The desire inside me remained, 
lingering despite my best efforts to suppress it. 
 
"Would it be okay if I stayed here for a while?" Tommy asked me.  "Maybe 
watch some telly?" 
 
"Sure," I said, reaching out to tousle his sandy hair.  "Whatever you'd 
like."  Tommy smiled again and took another sip of his wine.  He reached 
for the remote control, nearly spilling his drink on his trousers. 
 
"Why don't you change into your pajamas," I said.  "You wouldn't want to 
stain your nice suit." 
 
"Okay," he said, handing me his glass.  "I'll be back in a minute."  He 
headed back to his room and I could hear him unzipping his valise, the 
clatter of hangers as he hung up his suit.  While he changed, I got up 
from the bed and took off my slip, still wet with his tears.  I was 
digging through my suitcase for the white silk kimono I always packed 
when I traveled, and I was just pulling it out when Tommy returned, 
dressed in blue flannel pajamas. 
 
"Oops, I'm sorry," he said, blushing when he saw me in my bra and 
panties.  He turned his head, and there was an unmistakable grin on his 
face. 
 
"It's alright," I said putting on my kimono.  "I've owned swimsuits that 
showed more skin."  I went over to the bed and fluffed up the pillows, 
and   Tommy joined me, leaning back against the headboard as I took 
another sip of my wine.  He picked up the remote again and turned on the 
television, flipping through the channels until he found something he 
liked, a syndicated rerun of the Simpsons. 
 
"Do you get this program at home?" I asked him during a commercial 
break. 
 
"Yes, we do," he replied.  "Usually a season or two after the States." 
 
As we watched television, Tommy leaned on my shoulder, and he sighed as 
I put my arm around him.  He was still trembling a bit, and I thought it 
might have been residual anxiety, but when he tugged at the waistband of 
his pajama bottoms I realized that it was really the excitement of 
sitting in bed with a woman in a strange motel room so far from home.  
The telltale bulge in his pajamas was unmistakable. 
 
After the Simpsons, Tommy flipped through the channels again, stopping 
briefly at the CBC, the Sports Channel, and Nickelodeon.  Up at the far 
end of the dial were the pay-per-view channels, mostly second-run 
movies, but there were a few erotic selections as well, intended for 
lonely business travelers.  Adult movies never really did anything for 
me, all those synthetic breasts and fake orgasms, but Tommy's eyes lit 
up, even though he quickly surfed to another channel. 
 
"Would you like to watch a movie?" I asked him. 
 
"But I've already seen 'Spiderman'." 
 
"Not those movies, one of the others." 
 
"You mean...?" 
 
"If you'd like," I said.  "I don't mind paying for one." 
 
"Really?" 
 
"I can tell you're curious.  Let's watch one together." 
 
"Um, sure," Tommy said.  "Thanks." 
 
"You're welcome," I said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before 
getting up from the bed.  There was an option that allowed you to pay 
with a credit card, bypassing the motel's billing system, but before I 
went for my purse I poured more wine for both of us.  The system used 
the remote control for entering your credit card number, and though it 
was awkward, I managed to do it after a couple of tries.  I put away my 
purse and settled back in bed next to Tommy just as the movie started.  
A buxom blonde woman lounged by a swimming pool while a tanned, hunky 
young man cleaned it with a skimmer.  It wasn't long before she had 
taken off her top and was inviting him to apply lotion to her impossibly 
round breasts. 
 
"Nice," Tommy muttered under his breath. 
 
"They're not real," I reminded him. 
 
"Still..." 
 
As the blonde woman lowered the man's shorts and began to suck his huge 
cock, Tommy squirmed slightly, hesitantly reaching for his crotch but 
stopping short each time.  His erection must be uncomfortable, I 
thought. 
 
"You can touch yourself if you'd like," I said.  "It's okay." 
 
"I couldn't..." 
 
"Go ahead," I urged him.  "It's perfectly natural."  Tommy grinned and 
slipped his hand under his pajama bottoms, into his briefs, 
straightening out his stiff penis. 
 
"That's better," he sighed. 
 
On the television, the blonde had her bottoms off now, and the pool 
cleaner was kneeling behind her, his face buried between her cheeks, 
licking her sex like a dog.  She was moaning so loud that I had to turn 
the volume down a bit. 
 
Though I didn't usually like porno movies, I had to admit that I was 
getting aroused.  Perhaps it was the situation, watching this movie in 
bed with Tommy, seeing it through his eyes.  I slowly slipped my free 
hand inside my kimono and began to circle my stiff nipple with my 
fingertip, through the satin cup of my bra.  As the pool man mounted the 
blonde from behind, I squeezed my breast, hard enough to make a soft 
gasp escape from my lips. 
 
"Are you okay?" Tommy asked me. 
 
"I'm fine," I said.  "Are you enjoying the movie?" 
 
"Yes." 
 
"So am I," I said, pulling him closer.  I pulled my hand from my robe 
and started to unbutton his pajama top, just enough so that I could slip 
my hand inside, gently touching his hairless chest, caressing his smooth 
skin. 
 
"That feels good," Tommy said.  His thighs were pressed against mine, 
and one of his hands was inside his briefs, squeezing his hardness. 
 
"Why don't you take these off," I said, tugging at his pajama bottoms.  
"I think you'll feel more comfortable." 
 
"Okay," he said.  He pulled down his bottoms, leaving his briefs on, 
never once taking his eyes off of the television.   
 
The pool cleaner had flipped the blonde woman over, and her legs were 
draped over his shoulders while he banged her shaved cleft.  His shaft 
glistened with her juices, and with each deep thrust her moans grew 
louder and breathier.  As we watched her begin to come, I finished 
unbuttoning Tommy's pajama top, exposing his smooth, flat belly, 
caressing it as he squeezed his erection through his shorts. 
 
I gently brushed his hand away and reached inside the fly front of his 
briefs, fishing out his hardness.  He was a growing boy, and his slim 
cock was already four inches in length, uncircumcised, with a prominent 
glans that was dark pink in color.  I started stroking him slowly and 
steadily as we watched the movie, his hips rocking in time with my hand. 
 
Tommy's breathing was heavy and labored as I slid his foreskin up and 
down his shaft.  His mouth was open slightly, and his attention was 
divided between what was happening on the television and what I was 
doing with his penis.  Just as the pool cleaner pulled his cock from the 
blonde's slit and squirted his sperm all over her breasts and belly, 
Tommy gasped and stiffened, his hardness twitching in my hand, and a 
single blob of semen spurted from his glans, dripping down his shaft and 
oozing on to my fingers. 
 
As Tommy reached over to the bedside table for a tissue, I leaned over, 
into his crotch, and licked the semen that remained on his cock, making 
him gasp again, in surprise as well as pleasure.  I'll bet you never saw 
that one coming, I thought.  After I cleaned him with my tongue, I 
tucked his flaccid penis back inside his jockey shorts and took the 
tissue from him, cleaning his sperm from my fingers.  Then I leaned back 
against our nest of pillows and kissed him on the lips, placing his hand 
on my breast.  He was a tentative kisser, unsure of what to do with his 
tongue, but he was a quick learner as well, nibbling my lips as he 
gently squeezed my bosom. 
 
"Where did you learn to kiss like that?" I asked him. 
 
"The cinema, I guess," he said.  "My mum likes the romantic ones." 
 
"Have you ever kissed a girl before?" 
 
"Last year, in first form," Tommy replied.  "It was nothing like this." 
 
It was clear that Tommy realized that what was happening in this motel 
room was much more interesting and pleasurable than the movie we were 
watching.  There was a break in the movie, anyway, now that Mr. Pool 
Cleaner had come all over the blonde.  The action had shifted to an 
office, a conference room, with a busty redheaded woman taking notes 
while three men in suits stumbled over their lines.  I opened my kimono 
and shrugged it off my shoulders, letting Tommy explore my body with his 
eyes and hands. 
 
He must have liked what he saw.  Tommy smiled as he gently sculpted my 
curves with his hands, lightly grazing my skin with his fingertips.  
Though at thirty-eight I wasn't as firm and svelte as when I was twenty, 
I still had a nice enough figure from running in Central Park every 
other day and working out in the gym two or three times a week, as often 
as my schedule would permit.  Maybe I wasn't as nubile as Nicole, the 
girl Tommy had a crush on, but he didn't seem to mind this at all.  
Besides, I had something she undoubtedly lacked: breasts. 
 
"Hang on a sec," I said, reaching back to unclasp my bra.  I shrugged 
the straps off of my shoulders and leaned back again.  Tommy was 
delighted, smiling as he cupped and fondled my breasts.  I showed him 
how I liked to play with my nipples, circling them, gently pinching 
them, making them stiffen and crinkle like two mocha-colored prunes. 
 
"Lovely," he murmured. 
 
"You don't think they're too small?"  If there was one part of my body 
that I was self-conscious about, it was my breasts, barely a B-cup.  I'd 
thought about augmentation surgery, but my husband had talked me out of 
it.  He liked them, and that was enough to keep me from getting 
implants. 
 
"No, not at all," he said.  "They're beautiful." 
 
"Thank you, Tommy," I said, kissing the top of his head.  "I'd really 
like it if you'd suckle them, sweetie." 
 
Tommy smiled and began to kiss and lick my nipples, and then he cupped 
one of my breasts and started sucking like a nursing baby, sending a 
chill down my spine and raising goosebumps on my arms.  I caressed his 
smooth back with one hand and slid the other into my panties, feeling 
the heat and moisture of my sex, parting my lips, teasing my clit with a 
wet fingertip.  Between my fingers and Tommy's lips on my nipple, I felt 
my pleasure begin to mount, a pleasant tingling in my belly that 
displaced the hunger I'd felt. 
 
"Mmmm...just like that, Tommy...oh, yes...yes..."  I began to move my 
hips, humping my probing finger as he ravished my breasts.  Tommy threw 
one of his legs over mine, and I could feel his hardness inside his 
jockeys, rubbing against my thigh.  While I worried my swollen clitoris 
with one hand, I slipped the other under the waistband of his briefs, 
caressing his firm young buns, feeling them tense and relax as he rubbed 
his stiffy against my leg. 
 
I felt Tommy's heart pounding against my body, his excitement matching 
mine, intensifying my pleasure, stoking the fires of my lust.  I knew it 
was a wicked, awful thing I was doing, but that only made me desire this 
young man even more.  I was thinking about what he'd feel like inside me 
when my pleasure overflowed, making me stiffen and arch my back as I 
came.  It was intense, ecstatic, a mind-blowing orgasm that left me 
quivering next to his slender form. 
 
Tommy stopped suckling me when I climaxed, looking wide-eyed and 
astonished as I writhed and moaned on the motel bed.  This was real, not 
a faked orgasm for the camera.  Instead of the forced shrieks of the 
blonde in the movie, he heard me moan and gasp, felt me tremble and 
shake, and saw the spreading flush on the skin above my breasts.  When 
my climax receded I stopped rubbing myself, slipped my hands out of my 
panties, and wiped my fingers on the sheets. 
 
"Did you just...?" 
 
"Yes, Tommy," I said, kissing him on the lips.  "I came." 
 
"Did I do that to you?" 
 
"Yes, you did, sweetie.  Thank you."  I kissed him again, and he 
grinned, his eyes sparkling, a proud expression on his face.  "Lay back 
and watch the movie.  I want to make you feel good, too." 
 
On the television, the busty redheaded secretary and the three 
executives were all naked now.  She was sprawled over the conference 
table, sucking one man's cock while another knelt between her legs, 
licking her wide-open pussy, and the third man rubbed his glans over her 
nipple. 
 
As Tommy leaned back against the pillows, I pulled his jockey shorts 
down over his thighs and off his legs, exposing his hairless penis and 
scrotum.  Leaning over him, I kissed him on the lips, on the neck, 
licking his collarbone and one of his tiny pink nipples, kissing a trail 
down his flat belly and slim hips.  His young cock twitched in 
anticipation. 
 
"Oh!" he gasped when he felt my lips on his stiff penis.  I kissed the 
tip first, still stained with semen from his last orgasm, and then I 
enveloped his hardness with my mouth, swirling my tongue over his glans 
and his shaft, all the way to the root.  Reaching between his legs, I 
cupped his balls in my hand, gently squeezing them, feeling his almond-
sized testes inside his hairless sac.  I'd examined countless young boys 
this way, looking for lumps or cysts, or an undescended testicle.  Now I 
was doing it to pleasure Tommy, to make him gasp and moan as I sucked 
his boycock. 
 
Looking up at him, I could see Tommy was more interested in watching me 
fellate him than what was happening on the television screen.  His hands 
were balled up into fists, clutching the sheets, and his hips began to 
move, rocking as my head bobbed over his thighs, his glistening cock 
sliding in and out of my wet lips.  Suddenly he let out a loud gasp and 
I felt his cock twitch in my mouth.  I sucked him harder, faster, 
engulfing and releasing his hardness, and he came, his whole body 
shuddering as he squirted his seed in my mouth. 
 
I'd never really liked swallowing semen, not even my ex-husband's, but I 
made an exception for Tommy.  There wasn't much to swallow, anyway, and 
his emission had a neutral taste, not as bitter or bleachy as I 
expected.  I swirled my tongue over his cock, cleaning the semen from 
his softening penis, and then I released him from my mouth with a loud 
"slurp".  Tommy relaxed once again, letting go of the sheets, his eyes 
hooded, and a goofy grin on his face.  I gave his cock a last kiss and 
scooted up next to him, putting my arms around his shoulder. 
 
"Wow...," he said.  "Wow." 
 
"You liked that, didn't you." 
 
"That was amazing." 
 
"I'm glad you enjoyed that," I whispered.  "Let's rest up and watch the 
movie and then I'll make you feel even better."  Tommy smiled and laid 
his head on my shoulder, sighing as I kissed his rosy cheek and caressed 
his smooth skin. 
 
The movie continued with the redhead on top of one of the naked 
executives, his fat cock jammed into her sex, while another man stood by 
her head, offering his penis for her to lick and suck.  The third man 
positioned himself by her humping bottom and stroked himself as he 
probed her anus with an oily finger.  Then he pressed the purple head of 
his cock against her sphincter and entered her.  The camera zoomed in 
for a close-up shot of two glistening shafts sliding in and out of her 
tender holes, her cries of pain and pleasure muffled by the member in 
her mouth. 
 
"He's in her bum!" Tommy said, totally amazed at what he was seeing.  
"He put his knob in her bum!" 
 
"It's called 'anal sex'," I said to him. 
 
"Have you ever done that?" 
 
"A couple of times," I replied.  "With my ex-husband." 
 
"What was it like?" Tommy asked me. 
 
"Okay, I guess," I said.  "It hurts a little at first.  I didn't really 
care for it, but he liked it.  It's really messy, though, especially if 
you're not shaved down there like she is." 
 
"Oh," Tommy said.  He watched the movie in silence, as the three men 
pushed their hard cocks in and out of the young redhead's mouth, pussy, 
and ass.  One by one, they began to pull out of her and vigorously 
stroke their cocks, spurting ropy jets of semen all over her face, her 
breasts, her belly, and her wide-open cleft.  She smiled for the camera, 
scooping a blob of sperm that had landed on her chin into her mouth and 
rubbing the rest of it into her skin. 
 
"Eww," Tommy said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.  "I think I've seen 
enough." 
 
I reached for the remote and turned off the television.  Tommy rolled 
over, on top of me, and kissed me on the lips.  As our tongues met I 
caressed his smooth body, from the nape of his neck to his firm young 
cheeks, savoring the feeling of his skin against mine.  I could feel him 
start to stiffen again, his boycock pressing against the crotch of my 
panties, and his hips began to move as he slowly humped me. 
 
"Take these off for me," I whispered. 
 
"Your knickers?" 
 
"Yes." 
 
Tommy rolled off of me and knelt next to my hips, tugging at the 
waistband of my burgundy satin panties.  I lifted my bottom off of the 
bed to make it easier for him to pull them down my thighs.  He slowly 
drew my panties down my legs and let them fall to the bed, his eyes 
fixed on my cleft.  I reached for his hand and placed it on my mons, 
spreading my thighs so he could see my sex. 
 
"Gentle," I cooed as he touched me, tentatively dipping a finger in my 
slit.  "Be gentle."  Tommy nodded in acknowledgment. 
 
"You're wet," he said.  "That's not pee, is it?" 
 
"No, it's vaginal fluid," I said.  "It's a natural lubricant, and it 
gives sperm cells something to swim in so they can fertilize the egg." 
 
"Oh, I see," he said.  I sat up and showed him how I was made, naming 
all of the parts, spreading my labia so he could look inside my slit, 
pressing his finger to my clitoris and showing him how to rub it 
properly.  Then I laid back on the bed while he explored my sex, cupping 
my breasts while he played with my pussy.  Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned 
between my legs and began to lick me, something he probably wouldn't 
have done if he hadn't seen it in the movie. 
 
"Higher, higher," I cooed.  "Yes, right there...oooh...perfect."  Tommy 
found my clit with his tongue, and began to lap at it like a kitten with 
a bowl of cream.  I closed my eyes and squeezed my breasts, enjoying the 
feeling of his soft tongue on my swollen pearl.  When I opened my eyes, 
I could see Tommy looking up at me, smiling as he licked my cleft. 
 
"Keep going, baby," I said.  "You're doing fine."  Tommy nodded and went 
back to licking my clit, using a finger to probe my passage.  I began to 
move my hips, rocking them back and forth as he ravished my sex, 
enjoying the wonderful sensation of his tongue on my clit and his finger 
in my vagina.  I could feel a kernel of delight beginning to grow 
between my legs, spreading outward, up my belly and down my thighs.  
Cupping my breasts, I started flicking my nipples with my fingers, 
lightly pinching them, sending a wave of pleasure down to my sex. 
 
Tommy was using two fingers now, sliding them in and out of my hungry 
cleft, his tongue dancing over my pearl, his breath a warm cloud on my 
sex.  My pleasure began to rise and I was nearing my release when 
suddenly Tommy began to move his head from side to side, quickly, his 
rigid tongue lashing my clitoris, sending me over the edge.  I cried out 
in surprise and delight as I came, pinning Tommy's shoulders between my 
quivering thighs.  This didn't faze him at all, and he kept up his 
relentless rhythm, bringing me to a second climax, even longer and more 
intense than the first.  It seemed as if he could keep this up all 
night, and I had to sit up and pull him away from my cleft to make him 
stop.  I pulled him on top of me and wrapped him in my arms, kissing his 
wet lips and glistening cheeks. 
 
"Was that okay?" Tommy asked me. 
 
"Baby, that was wonderful," I said, kissing him again.  "You made me 
feel so good, sweetie.  I can't believe you've never done that before."  
Tommy smiled proudly and we kissed again, sharing the taste of my nectar 
that lingered on his lips.  My hands roamed over his back and bottom, 
and his stiff cock pressed against my moist labia, rubbing against my 
entrance.  I spread my legs and reached down between us, taking his 
penis in my hand. 
 
"Are we going to...?" Tommy said. 
 
"Only if you want to." 
 
"I do, I do..." 
 
"That's what I wanted to hear," I whispered, pressing my lips to his as 
I guided his beautiful boycock inside me.  "Feel good, baby?" 
 
"Oh, yes," Tommy gasped, an expression of wonder on his face. 
 
"Start off slowly," I said, cupping his firm buns and setting the pace 
of his undulations.  He held on to my breasts as we began to rock 
together, his hardness slowly sliding in and out of my moist passage.  
It had been a couple of months since I'd had anything larger than my 
finger inside me, and it hurt just a bit as he opened me with his cock.  
After a few strokes, the discomfort was replaced by a delicious friction 
and a spreading sensation of warmth that flowed through my body. 
 
"So good...," Tommy murmured as he slowly pumped my hungry sex.  I could 
feel a tension building in his body, the urge to speed up his rhythm, to 
pump my passage faster, harder.  I relaxed my grip on his bottom, 
letting him pick up the pace as I caressed him, stroking his smooth back 
and running my fingers through his sandy blond hair.  Tommy looked at me 
with an almost puzzled expression, as if he sought my approval for 
something. 
 
"You're doing fine, sweetie," I whispered. 
 
"Am I?" 
 
"Perfectly," I said.  "You can go faster if you want."  Tommy smiled and 
started to speed up, and I wrapped my arms around him and moved my hips 
in time with his.  The bed began to shake beneath us, the bedsprings 
squeaking ever so slightly.  The sensation of warmth in my body became 
an inferno, a white hot core, like the center of a star, sending flares 
of pleasure through my limbs.  It began to grow, expanding like a 
supernova with each thrust of Tommy's smooth young boycock, making my 
toes curl and my breasts heave. 
 
He was pounding me quickly now, his thighs slapping against mine, his 
prominent pubic bone pressing against my swollen clit at the bottom of 
every stroke.  I hadn't felt like this in years, not since I was 
thirteen and I went all the way with my fourteen-year-old boyfriend.  He 
used to do me like this, pumping my tender cunny on his parents' bed, 
making the headboard bang into the bedroom wall as he jackhammered his 
cock into my cleft. 
 
"Oh God, Tommy...fuck me...fuck me..."  I felt so naughty talking like 
this to a young boy, but I couldn't help myself.  I was out of control, 
letting my pleasure rule my senses, surrendering myself to the feeling 
of his hardness inside me, plunging in and out of my slick passage, 
pushing me closer to a climax with each rapid thrust.  My arms and legs 
were wrapped around him now, and I could feel his muscles flexing in his 
back and legs, a sheen of perspiration rising on his smooth skin.  He 
was my fucking machine, pounding away, his cock pistoning in and out of 
my cleft. 
 
"Oh fuck...fuck...yes...ungh!"  I began to come, arching my back as 
Tommy rode me like a horseman, his swollen glans rubbing against my g-
spot.  I was nearly blinded by the intensity of my orgasm, and the room 
seemed to dim, as if the electrical power had started to fail, and when 
I closed my eyes I could see brilliant golden sparkles against a blood 
red field.  I grabbed Tommy's ass again, encouraging him to pump my 
spasming passage, to find his own release within my most intimate place, 
the blooming flower that sought his fragrant pollen, his essence, his 
seed.  As my climax began to recede, I opened my eyes again, seeing 
Tommy's angelic face fixed in an expression of lust and desire. 
 
"Come for me, Tommy," I urged him, squeezing his taut buns, probing his 
crack with my fingertips.  When I gently pressed my finger against his 
bottom, he gasped in surprise, and I could feel his boycock begin to 
twitch inside me as he neared his release.  "Come for me, baby.  
Come..." 
 
Tommy's body stiffened as he gave one last deep, hard thrust inside me.  
I wasn't sure if he'd come or not; I couldn't feel him spurt his seed 
inside me.  My ex-husband had been a heavy ejaculator, and there were 
times when I missed the feeling of his semen pulsing against the walls 
of my vagina when he came.  This wasn't one of those times, though.  If 
he'd fucked me the way Tommy just did, I'd have gladly put up with his 
drinking and philandering. 
 
"Did I do that right?" Tommy asked me. 
 
"Yes, you did," I said.  "You were wonderful."  He started to pull out 
of me, but I wrapped my arms around his body again.  "Stay inside me, 
Tommy," I whispered. 
 
"But I've got to use the loo," Tommy said. 
 
"Go ahead," I said, laughing and squeezing his bottom.  We shared a 
quick kiss before he climbed off of me and headed to the bathroom.  As I 
sat up in bed, I felt a slight soreness down there from Tommy's 
energetic thrusts.  I reached into my handbag for a couple of aspirin, 
washing them down with the last of my wine.  Tommy emerged from the 
bathroom, his cock soft now, and he rejoined me in bed.  We were 
cuddling together, kissing and caressing each other, when his stomach 
groaned. 
 
"Hungry?" 
 
"A little," he said. 
 
"There's some snacks in the mini-bar," I said.  "Want me to get you 
something?" 
 
"Yes, please." 
 
I kissed him on the nose and climbed out of bed, grabbing a bag of 
potato chips and a chocolate bar for Tommy and one of the tiny bottles 
of liquor, a nip of scotch, for myself.  As Tommy ripped open the bag of 
chips, I put on my kimono and slippers and went into the hallway for 
some ice.  By the time I'd returned, he'd finished the chips and was 
halfway through the chocolate. 
 
"I'm sorry," he said.  "Did you want some?" 
 
"No thanks," I said, putting some ice in a clean glass and pouring the 
scotch over it.  "There's some pretzels here if you're still hungry." 
 
"Could we call room service?" Tommy asked.  "I'd like another 
hamburger." 
 
"There's no room service here," I said.  "It's not that kind of hotel." 
 
"Oh.  I guess I'll have the pretzels then." 
 
I sat on the bed next to him, sipping my drink while he ate.  When he 
was done, he threw the empty wrappers away and got a soda from the 
fridge.  I watched him the whole time, admiring his beautiful body, his 
slender form, his smooth skin.  He noticed the way I was looking at him 
as he returned to the bed. 
 
"Is something wrong?" Tommy said, frowning. 
 
"No, nothing's wrong," I replied.  "You're just such a handsome young 
man.  Come here, Tommy."  I held out my arms and pulled him into my lap, 
nuzzling his neck, kissing his cheek and lips, caressing his smooth back 
and chest. 
 
"You make me feel so good, Karen," he said.  "I wish..." 
 
"Tell me," I said. 
 
"I wish I could stay with you in New York." 
 
"Oh, Tommy," I whispered, kissing his soft lips.  "You're so sweet." 
 
"Do you think we could spend some time together?" 
 
"I'd like that more than anything in the world," I said, hugging him 
tightly.  We looked into each other's eyes for a while; his ice blue 
irises held me spellbound.  I had to close my eyes and kiss his rosy 
lips to keep from becoming hypnotized.  My heart skipped a beat when he 
slipped his tongue in my mouth.  My virgin boy was growing bolder, he 
was becoming a man, with a man's urges, a man's libido.  However, the 
hard cock I felt pressing against my thigh meant that he still had a 
boy's energy and resilience.  I wondered how many times he could come 
before he succumbed to soreness or sleep. 
 
I reached down between his legs, taking his erection in my hand and 
gently stroking it as we kissed.  Tommy's hands drew closer to my 
breasts, and he began to caress them, his fingers dancing over my stiff 
nipples.  I had to have him again. 
 
"Roll over, baby," I cooed.  As Tommy rolled on to his back, I straddled 
his hips and guided his cock into my moist passage, engulfing his 
hardness.  We were motionless for a moment, and after I guided his hands 
to my breasts I began to move my hips, slowly, languorously, hoping to 
make my pleasure last as long as possible. 
 
Tommy was quick to pick up on my rhythm, rocking his hips against mine.  
I leaned forward and kissed him, my shoulder-length auburn hair making a 
tent around our faces, and our tongues met and melted together so that 
we were connected at both ends. 
 
"You feel so good inside me," I murmured, breaking off our kiss.  "Do 
you like the way my pussy feels around your cock?" 
 
"Yes," Tommy said.  "I do." 
 
"Tell me," I urged him, moving my hips back and forth as his pole slid 
in and out of my cleft.  "Tell me how much you like it." 
 
"I love the way your pussy feels," he said.  "So warm and wet..." 
 
"Mmmm...yes...I love your cock, Tommy."  I'd never spoken like this to 
anyone, not even my ex-husband.  Just thinking these thoughts lit a fire 
inside me, a bonfire of lust and desire that burned within my loins.  I 
could feel my pleasure rising and I began to speed up the movement of my 
hips, trying to catch that elusive feeling.  Tommy bucked under me, 
rocking his pelvis, spearing me with his wonderful boycock, pushing me 
towards my release. 
 
I cupped one of my breasts and brought my nipple to his ruby lips, 
letting him suckle me as we coupled.  He bit me, lightly, just a gentle 
graze of his teeth, and it sent an electric feeling through my body, 
down my spine, through my belly.  It was like pouring gasoline on a 
fire, making me moan and writhe on top of his slender form as my passion 
became a raging inferno, a fire storm of pleasure.  I began to climax 
once again, arching my back as I came, quivering uncontrollably atop my 
young lover's hardness, trying hard not to scream so loudly lest the 
people in the next room hear my cries of passion. 
 
"Oh, God...Tommy...so good...so good."  I could barely gasp out a 
complete sentence.  As I leaned over him, he held my breasts and began 
to pinch my nipples, sending me over the edge once more.  My hips were 
moving of their own accord now, back and forth, up and down, engulfing 
and releasing his glistening member.  When my orgasm began to fade I 
felt a slight soreness down there, and I knew that I'd start to dry out 
soon unless I could make him come.  I tensed my Kegel muscles, squeezing 
his hard boycock, trying to milk his orgasm out of him.  Tommy smiled 
when he felt this, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of my 
passage tightening around his hard shaft. 
 
"Are you close, baby?" 
 
"Not yet," he replied. 
 
"Can I finish you with my mouth?" 
 
"Okay." 
 
I slowed my hips and climbed off of him, feeling empty as his hardness 
slipped out of my sex.  I knew I'd feel sore in the morning, but I 
didn't care.  It was worth it, every moment of pleasure riding his 
beautiful penis.  Curling up between his legs, I began to lick his 
hairless testicles, tracing the seam of flesh between them, all the way 
up his shaft before taking his stem in my mouth.  Tommy closed his eyes 
and smiled as I sucked him, undulating his hips as I ravished his tool 
with my tongue and lips. 
 
I sucked him for a while, and though his lovely boycock would twitch in 
my mouth every so often, he wasn't getting close to his release.  Just 
as he'd fucked me until I was sore, he must have gotten numb, 
desensitized after three orgasms.  Still, I kept sucking and licking his 
hardness until my jaw and neck began to ache. 
 
"Tommy, I can't keep doing this much longer," I said.  "I'm sorry, 
baby." 
 
"It's okay, Karen," he said.  "I don't mind.  Really."  I knew he 
didn't.  I knew he'd had enough pleasure tonight to last for years, but 
I wanted to please him, to let my young lover know how special he was to 
me.  I couldn't leave him like this, unsatisfied, on the edge, and I 
decided to throw caution to the winds. 
 
"Would you like to try it in my ass?" 
 
"Your bum?" Tommy said.  "You want to...?" 
 
"I want you in my ass," I said, kissing the tip of his cock.  Tommy sat 
up as I climbed out of bed and headed into the bathroom.  There was a 
complimentary bottle of hand lotion next to the sink, along with those 
tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner found in every motel and hotel 
room.  When I returned to the bed, Tommy was rapidly stroking his cock.  
I sat down next to him and squirted a liberal amount of lotion on his 
penis, spreading it all over his shaft and glans.  Then I laid down next 
to him, face down, and slid one of the pillows under my belly. 
 
"Pour some lotion on my bottom and work it in with your fingers," I 
said.  "And be really gentle and go slow, okay?" 
 
"I will," Tommy said.  He knelt behind me and squirted a blob of lotion 
right on my nether hole, probing me with his finger, working the 
lubricant inside my bottom.  After a minute or so of this, I felt 
something larger than his finger, the tip of his cock at the entrance of 
my tight passage, pressing into me, opening me. 
 
"Slow," I urged him.  "Take it nice and slow."   
 
I took a deep breath and tried to relax my sphincter as he penetrated my 
anus.  There was a slight burning sensation as he began to stretch my 
muscle, but other than that it wasn't as painful as when my ex-husband 
had entered me.  Of course, he was twice Tommy's size. 
 
"So tight...," Tommy gasped as he slowly pushed his boycock into my ass.  
Hand lotion wasn't the best lubricant, but it was all we had, and it was 
good enough, easing the passage of his hardness into my tender bottom.  
It took a couple of minutes for him to fill me, and when I felt his 
thighs against my cheeks I knew he was buried to the hilt.  Tommy leaned 
over and kissed me between the shoulder blades, and then he began to 
thrust, slowly easing out until just the tip of his cock remained inside 
me and then pushing back in to my bottom. 
 
As Tommy's hardness slid in and out of my ass, I reached down between my 
legs and began to rub my clit, rolling it between my fingers, gently 
pinching it.  I felt like such a wanton woman, fingering my sex as this 
handsome young boy took his pleasure in my bottom.  Clenching my muscles 
around his shaft, I started pushing back against his hips, making him 
gasp as he felt my sphincter tighten around his pole.  He put his hands 
around my waist and began to thrust faster, breathing heavily as he 
pumped my tender hole.  I could feel his cock begin to twitch inside me, 
and I knew he was getting close, nearing his release, ready to come any 
moment now. 
 
"Karen...I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." 
 
"Come, Tommy," I whispered.  "Come for me.  Come in my ass." 
 
"Oh, yes...I'm coming...Karen...ungh..."  Tommy gasped as his cock 
twitched again, and he gave one last thrust before collapsing on my 
back.  I reached for his hand, slipping my fingers between his. 
 
"Did you like that, baby?" 
 
"Oh, yes," Tommy said.  "I liked that a lot."  He started to pull his 
softening penis from my bottom. 
 
"No," I said.  "Stay in me.  Please."  I liked the feeling of his 
beautiful boycock inside me, filling me, connecting us, making us one.  
Tommy relaxed on top of me and began kissing my neck and shoulders, my 
cheek and lips.  I had a contented smile on my face as he clung to my 
back.  My baby.  My beautiful, beautiful boy. 
 
Eventually, he slipped out of me, his oily cock brushing against my 
labia, making me shudder slightly beneath him.  Tommy rolled off of me 
and I got up and went into the bathroom for a warm washcloth.  Gently, 
lovingly, I cleaned off his messy penis, kissing his flaccid shaft when 
I was done. 
 
"Do you want me to do you?" Tommy asked me. 
 
"Do me?" 
 
"Clean you.  You said it gets messy if you're not shaved like the girl 
on the telly." 
 
I felt my face redden; I was going to wipe my bottom, greasy with 
lubricant and a trace of Tommy's thin semen, but I was going to do it 
discreetly, in the privacy of the bathroom.  I had a mental image of 
Tommy wiping the hand lotion from my crack, like a person attending to 
an invalid after a trip to the bathroom.  As much as this picture 
embarrassed me, it also aroused me, the though of this boy attending to 
my most intimate of needs.  And there was the way Tommy spoke his offer, 
in his lilting English accent, innocently, without a trace of lascivious 
intent. 
 
"That's sweet of you, Tommy," I said, handing him the washcloth.  
"Please."  I climbed into bed and positioned myself on my hands and 
knees, presenting my ass as if I wanted him to take me from behind.  
Tommy knelt behind me and began to gently daub at my bottom with the wet 
washcloth, his other hand resting on my belly, holding me still so he 
could clean me.  Even so, I couldn't resist pushing back against his 
fingers. 
 
When he was done he gently kissed my cheek, and I rolled on to my side 
and took the washcloth from him, letting it fall to the floor next to 
the bed.  Tommy stretched out next to me and we embraced and shared a 
kiss.  His eyes were half-closed and he had a dreamy expression on his 
face. 
 
"Sleepy, baby?" 
 
"Mmmm," he murmured.  "Can I stay with you tonight?" 
 
"I wouldn't have it any other way."  I reached for the light switch next 
to the bed and flicked it off.  The moon was nearly full that night, and 
it's icy blue glow filled the room.  I held Tommy from behind, kissing 
his cheek, his neck, his shoulder before laying my head on the pillow 
next to his. 
 
"Good night, Tommy," I whispered. 
 
"Nighty night, Karen." 
 
I kissed him one last time, on his sandy blond hair, and closed my eyes. 



                              * * *
 
 
(c) 2003  Anais Ninja 
anais_ninja@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/anais_ninja/www/

 
 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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