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Preface:

This document contains contextual information of an adult nature.
Sensitive and/or non-adult individuals should delete this document
immediately.

If you are under 21 or you are an adult who does NOT wish to view
sexually explicit contextual material, YOU MUST LEAVE NOW!

By continuing, you are stating that you are an adult and understand that
falsely claiming otherwise is unlawful and may result in your
prosecution.  You are hereby warned to conduct yourself according to
your local standards regarding the reading of adult erotic material.

The following is a literary work of adult erotic fiction and is laced
with tremendously immoral and strongly perverse sexual activities
between an adult woman and an underage boy.  If you are the least
offended by physical contact of a sexual nature between an adult woman
and young male children, then delete this file and be on your way.
There will be no pity taken on or comments accepted from anyone that
does not heed this warning.

None of the events described herein ever took place nor were influenced
by the descriptions or deeds by any human being.  Everything in this
fantasy was the creation of a single person's mind, where nobody was
touched, fondled, coaxed, or coerced into any sexual situation.

Enjoy this wicked reverie at your own risk and do not be surprised if
you find yourself aroused.

Eliston X. 'Ex' Gaulfre
Rewdius@gmail.com

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MrsMiller.txt

Mrs. Miller, Scott's Older Mistress

mF
Cons, Rom, Pett, Oral, Pedo, Piv, 1st, Fetish, spank

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Prologue ---

Fetish:

1 - any object believed by a person to have magic power

2 - any thing or activity to which a person is irrationally devoted, ie.
"to have a fetish of ladies' gloves"

3 - Psychiatry:  any nonsexual object, such as a glove, that abnormally
engenders erotic feelings

What does a person do when they become aware of an irrational desire for
something that has a stronger effect on them than anything else in their
lives?

Once that person understands they have a desire that others may not, how
do they cope with wanting and needing that precious object when just
having it is tantamount to wearing a sign that reads "I have an intense
fetish and it controls my thoughts night and day?"

How does a preteen and immature boy tell an older mature widow that he
craves something that she owns and fantasizes about that special
something every waking moment of his day?

Is it possible for a young boy to develop normally when he walks around
with an aching erection that just wouldn't go down every time he
pictures her secret prize in his grasp?

Can lust be driven by something as ordinary albeit as exotic as a pair
of ladies' evening gloves?

--------------

My parents lived a few houses down from a late forties widow named Mrs.
Miller who had no children of her own when I was ten.  I never found out
what her first name was because frankly, young boys aren't allowed to
call older women by their private names.

She was an incredibly beautiful white lady for her age and was also a
very meticulous person about every aspect of her life.  Her house was
immaculate and it reflected her personal hygiene, right down to the
doilies on every end and buffet table, the perfectly matched accessories
for everything in her home, and even the way her house looked so very
different from everyone else's in the neighborhood.  All the other front
yards were the typical verdant green from curb to front door bisected by
a thin band of plain white concrete.  Not Mrs. Miller's!  Where the
other houses had a monotonous carpet of emerald from the sidewalk to the
foundation, her front yard was profuse with every possible color of
flower and type of plant.  It almost looked like a commercial nursery.

A style and fashion magazine crew could have used her house in their
monthly columns and photo spreads, and I'm a little surprised her place
wasn't used for some kind of dramatic movie set that included gangsters,
jewelry thieves, or a super rich family that wanted for nothing.  It
wasn't hard to imagine a butler stately walking around from room to room
conducting some unknown business for the owner, except her house wasn't
really any bigger or distinct from everyone else's.

Mrs. Miller stood tall at 5' 10", looked like she weighed about 125
lbs, and had light brown hair that had to have been dyed because she
went to a hair dresser once a week and always looked perfect.  She
always dressed to the nines when she went out, whether it was to go
grocery shopping or when she went with another woman or maybe even a man
and his wife to go see a play or listen to the opera.  At that time of
my life I was extremely interested in women and their glamorous looks,
and Mrs. Miller was no exception.  She always wore beautiful dresses,
stockings, high heels, and luxurious coats.

She carried the air of royalty around with her as naturally as a
birthright, but she never looked down on anyone, especially younger
boys.  The other kids in the neighborhood spoke of how she was very
flirty with the guys my age for some reason, but I wasn't aware of her
affectionate tendencies until a little while after I met her and was
allowed to be close enough to talk to her privately.

I was a typical slender four foot tall young lad that pushed 65 pounds
soaking wet with sandy brown hair and a fair complexion.  There wasn't
anything spectacular about me other than I was very curious, had a
fascination with a few things that others weren't aware of, and had
begun to notice girls, especially much older ones.  The ones my age
still thought boys had cooties and that being seen holding hands with or
kissing one meant that you were married and were going to have a baby in
six days.  The older girls and women like Mrs. Miller, however, had
already developed in their snug fitting or fashionable blouses and had
hips that made their skirts and dresses sway and flick just right when
they walked.

During one of my less observant afternoons our neighbor spoke to my
parents about needing a cat sitter while she was away for a few days.
In order to keep me busy with something other than taking a clock apart
(and unable to get it back together, of course), they eagerly accepted
her request for someone to tend to her lovely pet.  She gave them the
house keys and left specific instructions for me to stop in at least
three times a day and check on her cat to feed and play with the little
fur-ball so Mrs. Miller didn't come back to a place in shambles.

The day she left I went over to check on her pet, walked into her house,
and felt an overpowering sensation.  I couldn't put my finger on it at
the time, so I set about to complete my job to feed her cat and then
entertain it with the typical feather on a string, a small rubber ball,
a stitched bundle of fabric that had some catnip inside, and then a
small brush that I was supposed to use to keep the small animal's fur
fluffy and free of any extra hair.

Just before I put my small hand on the knob of the front door to leave
after that first visit something stopped me.  I suddenly felt compelled
to snoop around her house and look through every room.  I knew it was
rude to wander about without specific permission, but while I returned
to the closed area where her pet was supposed to remain, my four legged
charge solved my guilt problem for me by scampering off down the hall
and around the corner.  Moments after I chased after it and made my turn
to try to catch it so I could sequester it back in that area of the
house behind a closed door, I saw a streak of fur shoot up the long
flight of stairs.  I followed the kitty upstairs and straight to her
bedroom.  It was a large room decorated in the finest looking furniture,
draperies, and bedding, as if a queen or princess lived there.  I was
more than impressed, I was awestruck.

Acting as if it was perfectly normal, the cat jumped up on the bed,
curled up into a small fuzzy bundle, lifted its hind leg into the air,
and began to lick its butt.  Odd place to do it, but I surmised that the
cat had done it at least once before.

That mysterious voice called me inside her room for something other than
to collect the small pussy and before I could turn around with a cat in
my arms, something drew me to her clothes dresser.  Before I realized
what I was doing, I began to carefully and slowly open the drawers one
by one looking at all of her things.  In one of them I found dozens of
pairs of silk panties, stockings, garters, and slips.  Everything looked
so sexy and naughty, bright white, pastel blue and pink, some skin toned
(what I'd later learned was called 'nude'), and seemed to flow like
liquid metal on my fingertips as I gently caressed and explored each
flimsy article of clothing.

My heart was beating wildly in my chest by the time I had my hand inside
a pair of her panties and softly caressing the slightly thicker material
along the gusset.  My immature brain tried to imagine what luxurious
softness might actually be contained within that wickedly erotic article
of loveliness when Mrs. Miller had tugged them up her long legs and
delicately into place behind the privacy of her closed bedroom door.

I'd had erections before, my body becoming aware of those times when a
single glance at a pair of a girl's panties nestled deep between her
thighs under a short dress stirred my eyes to lock-on as if Nature had
preprogrammed that act in my head.  When I touched the very item meant
for a much older female to wear under her dress and cover some naked and
mysterious prize as greedily as if I owned it myself, it stirred a
hardness in my pants that was increasingly difficult to hide, and a lot
of fun to push into the unfeeling structure of the drawer front.

It was too much for my frightened body to handle, even if I had a strong
desire to explore more, so I made sure everything seemed as if it was in
the same orientation as before and then closed the drawer.  I was about
to rise to my feet but that nasty voice screamed in my ear once again,
this time a lot stronger and in a more evil sounding voice.  I wasn't
sure whether to be scared of the voice, or what I was doing in Mrs.
Miller's bedroom.

I succumbed to the temptation and kept my place, both of my small hands
placed on the highly polished brass drawer pulls of the next drawer and
tugged lightly.  The next drawer I opened was her lingerie.  Back then I
wasn't sure what they were called, but I found out later there were
dozens of teddies, corsets, Basques, chemises, camisoles, brassieres,
and bustiers.  That one drawer was filled with so many lovely and sexy
unmentionables that I broke out into a sweat and began to shake.  As
soon as I took in a broad view of my secret glory I tried to imagine
some of them on my older secret girlfriend under her incredibly lovely
and very conservative outer clothing.

Slipping my hand underneath some very lacy and almost see through items
was like pushing my naughty appendage down inside a pair of panties when
they were filled with the sexy female body it belonged to.  I looked
through another boy's eyes as my short digits lightly caressed and
fondled a number of those luscious stitched parcels of Heaven, that
lucky young lad's fingers and hand taking a careful inventory of the
tactile differences between each item.  I felt as if I'd reached the
pinnacle of my sexual development as I gently stroked my digits over
every one of her private things, some slightly rough, a few very stiff,
but most incredibly soft so the tender flesh that would be contained
could do so without impediment or irritation.  Cupping my small hand
over and then inside the highly structured and carefully defined shape
of a few pieces, I could almost see her bare breasts under my fingers as
I slowly and nervously ran the tips of a few fingers over the biggest
and most prominent curvature of one particularly nasty looking bustier.

The blood was pounding in my ears and my chest was pumping with each
ragged breath as I tickled along the inside of her bras trying to feel
where her nipples had touched.  It was almost as if my small digits were
incredibly close to something warm and soft in a darkened room, her body
close enough to discern but my eyes unable to capture the image because
of some strange layer of protection.

My excitement grew until I was literally shaking, my hands cupped over
the empty boobs of fabric on one lovely outfit and my mind dreaming of a
chance to touch the real thing.  The more I saw, the more I wanted.  I'd
already gone through two of her drawers and hadn't heard lightning
strike outside, so I took a deep breath, sucked up my courage, and after
closing the second drawer placed my shaking fingertips on the handles of
the next one.

During my careful but rude explorations I pulled and saw what must have
been the most erotic ladies' garments in my life.  Rather than clothes
that were meant to be hidden from view under blouses and skirts, the
next drawer was full from front to back and side to side with something
that was specifically intended to be seen by everyone -- gloves.

I took particular interest in that drawer for some reason and seemed
hypnotized by the neatly arranged hand and arm garments.  There were
short wrist length, mid-arm length, and really long opera length gloves
that seemed to go on forever.  Some of the fancier ones were leather or
silk, very few were adorned with tasteful sparklies or silver and gold
jewelry, but most of them were made of satin or something just as soft.
They were so slippery across my young skin and screamed for me to touch
all of them at least once, so I succumbed to my desires and drew my
small hands across as much as I could see.

I couldn't take my hands off of them.  I imagined her standing before me
wearing all the things I found during my explorations and teasing me to
no end.  Picturing her erotically and very slowly slipping a long pair
of gloves on was akin to feeling my newly awakened penis being worked
inside the living wet depths of a woman's body.  In my mind I could see
Mrs. Miller standing in her sexy undergarments right in front of me,
her body turned to her right so I had a profile view of her mature
bra-covered breasts, her eyes locked onto her right hand as it extended
away from her body, her left hand gently tugging on the open end of one
long glove, and a wry smile on her face as if she knew that I was
dreaming about her hand shifting up and down the short length of my
growing and very hard cock.

My hands lightly brushed over every one of her gloves for untold
minutes, my deed certain to be discovered if I didn't regain my
sensibilities and then finished what I'd arrived to do.

After my brief reverie I decided to put everything back, return the
kitty to its normal location while Mrs. Miller was away, leave for the
day, and go home.  After the front door was closed and locked, I kept
thinking to myself that she could have caught me going through her
things and the amount of trouble I would have been in with her and my
folks.  If anyone had learned of my new fetish I'd have been the outcast
of the neighborhood, my school, and possible the laughing stock of the
entire town.  My whole body tingled and my stomach was tight well into
the night at the prospect of my fantasy being discovered.

The next day I intentionally stayed away from the upstairs rooms,
especially Mrs. Miller's bedroom.  Her kitty was fed and her water bowl
refilled, the cat box cleaned out, and I spent quite a while laying on
the nice Persian carpet in her living room and played with the happy
little animal.

The following day, however, I couldn't fight the urge any longer and
quietly made my way upstairs as if someone might hear my muffled steps
on the ornate stair-carpet.  It couldn't happen soon enough but with my
heart hammering in my throat I knelt down in front of her dresser
drawers again and pulled the only one open that I'd thought about for
the last couple of days.

The instant I saw her collection of gloves again I almost grew faint.
There in front of my puerile gaze were the most erotic and exciting
articles of clothing that I could have imagined.  That visit, however,
wasn't going to be complete without lifting one out of its place and
allowing the cool metallic feel of the fabric to drape across my left
hand.  It wasn't that much larger in size than my small hand and another
wicked idea surfaced that I didn't even have a chance to consider.

With my left arm extended straight out from my shoulder and using my
right hand to control the reflective black tightly woven decoration, I
carefully slipped the open end over my fingertips and slowly drew it up
until I saw my hand completely disappear.  My whole body trembled with a
kind of electricity that I'd never imagined before, the sensation of
that smooth fabric across my skin something that was like a narcotic
that my body needed and couldn't live without.

Using a delicate shift up my limb as if I was part of a royal clan, I
drew the rest of the material onto my arm and then carefully tucked my
fingers inside so the web of my digits finally came into contact with
the same sensation as my fingertips.  For the next few minutes I drew my
right hand back and forth across my gloved arm, the cool feel of my own
appendage and limb stirring an image of Mrs. Miller allowing me to
touch her arm the same way.  I even closed my eyes and rubbed my cheeks
with the backs and tips of my short extremities, my pseudo hostess
stirring my skin to erupt in a million goosebumps as her gloved hand
tenderly expressed a kind of affection that my parents and friends would
never know about and certainly wouldn't understand.

I could have stayed there all afternoon looking at and feeling my own
preteen arm within her lovely fabric accessory, but my mother would be
sure to scold me if I took too long.  With my body aching to remain in
her bedroom and my hands exploring her gloves, I removed my temporary
play thing, put it back where I found it, and then closed the drawer.

For the rest of the day I gently caressed my left arm and imagined it
covered from fingertip to armpit with that sexy ebony material, the
slick feel of her opera glove stirring my young cock to be incredibly
firm for quite a while.  I had to sequester myself in my room with some
task at my desk so nobody would see the throbbing menace along the left
side of my pants and the small wet spot that was formed at the tip of my
tightly restrained penis.

Mrs. Miller returned the following day and brought my secret pleasures
to an abrupt and potentially permanent halt.  Her confident but light
tapping on our front door sent a river of fright through my small body
as if she was coming to scold or whip me for intruding in her privacy.
The moment I opened the door and saw her, I blushed and wanted to run
away, but her smile and softly spoken greeting forced me to keep my feet
planted firmly to the entry tile.

"Well, hello, Scott!  How are you, Sweetie?"

"Uh . . . I'm okay, Mrs. Miller.  Would you like to come in?"

"Why thank you, Dear.  That's very sweet of you."

Her outfit made her look as if she had just returned from some elegant
social gathering, but was in fact most likely nothing more than her
normal professional clothing.  The moment she walked across the entry
threshold I became aware of her perfume and almost wanted to lunge
forward and hug her.  She smelled so delicious and seemed to carry the
perfect amount of floral fragrance on her body and clothes.  As she
passed by me while I held the door open, I had a burst of sight within
her outer wear and had a vision of her standing in nothing but her high
heels, stockings, garter belt, panties, bra, and gloves.  I almost
filled my underwear with something that had nothing to do with emptying
my bladder.

"Where's your mother, Scott?"

"She went to the store for a minute.  She should be back really soon."

"You don't mind me waiting for her inside with you, Sweetie?"

The sound of her voice as she called me by that normally innocent name
seemed to drill right through me and took away any strength I had.  It
might have been intentional because I would have admitted having been in
her drawers had she asked me.

"No, Ma'am, not at all.  Would you like for me to get your house key?"

"That would be very nice, Dear, yes."

"Come sit in the living room, Mrs. Miller.  I'll go get your key in the
kitchen after I show you inside."

"Such a handsome gentleman.  I'm sure your mother is very proud of how
decent and polite you are, Scott.  You're such a darling young man."

I could feel my whole body erupt into intense tingles, my stare into her
eyes lasting longer than I was aware of at the time.  She knew I wasn't
going to move until she suggested it and seemed to understand a lot more
about my need for her to just stay close to me than for me to move in
any direction.  It was only her soft voice, sexy smile, and piercing
gaze that forced me to think again.

"Would you like to show me where you'd want me to sit, Scott?"

"Uh . . . YEAH!"

When she extended her right hand for me to take, I knew I'd get to enjoy
something that I had only dreamed of for the last couple of days.  Her
gloves weren't very long, possibly just past her wrists, but they were
made of the same black shiny material that I'd played with the previous
day.  The instant my bare left hand touched her gloved right, I felt the
world move and became aware of her body leaning slightly closer to me
than any other adult woman ever had before while walking.

Leading her to the couch felt as if I was showing her where I'd soon
have my head chopped off for having invaded her space, but my adult
guest wasn't interested in anything but holding my small hand quite
snugly and smiling down at me when I looked up into her stare.

Rather than immediately scamper off toward the kitchen to collect her
door key, I was wordlessly encouraged to remain at her side on the wide
couch and chat, her grip around my small left hand tight enough that I
knew she wanted me to stay with her.  Once my butt hit the cushions and
I'd settled, I felt her crossed left knee press into my leg as if she
was trying to get me to move over.  But her hold of my left hand and the
firm tug toward her body proved that she didn't want me to move any
further away.

"Tell me, Scott.  Did you have any trouble with my Persimmon?"

"Uh . . . Ma'am?"

"Miss Persimmon . . . my pussy."

The first thing that came to mind was the unique word that the guys in
school told me meant a girl's special area, her peepee, her baby place.

"Your . . . puhhh . . . "

"Are you okay, Sweetie?  Are you feeling alright?"

Holding my left hand so I couldn't move, she reached across her body
with her left hand and caressed my face with the back of her gloved left
fingers, the sensation so erotic I actually started to shake.

"My, my!  It seems as if you're a little uncomfortable at the moment,
Sweetie.  Did something happen at my house that frightened you?"

"NO!"

My abrupt answer was so obvious that even Mrs. Miller could tell I did
something that I shouldn't have.  After she collected her wits from my
rather blunt response, she smiled at me, leaned slightly closer, and
then whispered into my left ear.

"What was it, Sweetie?  Did my pussy do something that scared you just a
tiny bit?  I promise I won't tell anyone if you'll be honest with me."

She kept using that provocative word, most likely intentionally, and
probably could feel my heartbeat in my grip around her gloved hand.
Looking down to my lap with a deepening blush confirmed that I'd done
something that I wasn't supposed to and I knew I'd been caught.  My only
way out was to tell Mrs. Miller before my mom got home and try to make
a deal with the incredibly beautiful older woman so she didn't rat on
me.  All I'd need was for my dad to find out I'd done something in her
house that I wasn't supposed to and I'd be grounded for twenty years.

"I, uh . . . I . . . "

She leaned closer, released my left hand, claimed it once again but with
her left, wrapped her right arm around my back, and then pressed her
mouth right over my left ear.  I could feel the heat of her breath when
she softly whispered again.

"It's okay, Angel.  If you promise to be honest with me, I'll promise
not to get angry, okay?  Would you do that for me, Sweetie?"

All she got was a single nod with my eyes still locked onto my knees.
It took me a moment to collect my courage, but hearing her tell me that
she wouldn't be angry reduced my anxiety considerably.

"I, uh . . . I accidentally let your puhh . . . Miss Persimmon escape
the kitchen area and she ran upstairs to your, um . . . bedroom."

As I said the word 'bedroom' I could feel my face flush with blood and
my whole body quiver in fear.  But Mrs. Miller didn't react the way I
expected, and instead of yelling at me or even scolding me gently, she
shifted her right hand off my shoulder, placed it against my neck just
below my right ear, and tenderly caressed my bare skin with the soft
fabric of my secret desires.

"That's okay, Angel.  I don't mind.  Did my pussy get into anything that
she shouldn't have?"

"Your pussy . . . Miss Persimmon jumped up on your bed, curled up, and
got so comfy that I, um . . . I . . . "

Mrs. Miller smiled, leaned slightly forward, and then gave me a little
kiss on my cheek close to my ear.  It felt as if the whole world stopped
for a moment and then started right back up again.

"Did my handsome little man do something that's he's more than a little
embarrassed about?  I'll bet you couldn't resist and wanted to see
something that you've never seen before, didn't you, Angel?"

I was just about to admit that I'd run my bare hands over and around her
panties and other undergarments, but especially her gloves when she
suddenly leaned back, removed her arm from around my body, shifted to
her left slightly, tugged her skirt down, crossed her right leg over her
left, and then tersely whispered in a tone that didn't sound nearly as
intimate as her last few words.

"Go ahead and get the key for me, Scott.  I think your mother has
arrived."

Moments after I understood what she said I was on my feet and headed
toward the kitchen, my face turned toward my older fantasy lover.
Acting just like the naive and clumsy boy I was, I ran into the coffee
table, over corrected and ran into my dad's recliner, over corrected
again and ran into the dining room table, bounced off a dining chair
almost knocking it over, stumbled my way into the china cabinet, and ran
headlong into the door jamb.  It must have looked like I was a pinball
going from one obstacle to the next and racking up hundreds of points.

Before I turned my head in the general direction that my feet were
pointed in, I saw Mrs. Miller cup her gloved right hand over her mouth
and giggle at my clumsiness.  I could have felt tremendous humiliation
at being so uncoordinated, but instead I was conscious of a power within
me that I never knew I had -- I could make my special guest laugh.

Moments after I claimed her key and returned to the living room so I
could return her property, my mother opened the front door and walked
in.  As a measure of self protection so she wasn't alarmed by our quiet
guest, I called out while I was about five feet from Mrs. Miller's
feet.

"Mom?  Mrs. Miller is here to pick up her key!"

Fractions of a second later both women caught each others' gaze and
immediately smiled.  Mrs. Miller rose to her feet and extended that
same gloved hand that had caressed my neck just under my right ear.  In
a fit of Neanderthal greed I was just about to swat my own mother's hand
away from the precious acreage that had been so gentle with me, but I
stopped myself and kept my place.

"Hello, Mrs. Miller.  It's a real treat for you to visit for a little
bit.  Has Scott been polite and offered you our hospitality?"

"Scott has been the perfect gentleman and has made me feel quite at
home, haven't you Scott?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"See!  He always acts like such the young gentleman.  I'm sure you and
his father are quite proud of him, aren't you?"

"Yes we are, although I'm concerned that he hasn't provided you any sort
of refreshments.  I was thinking about starting a pot of tea.  Would you
like to share it with me?"

"Why, YES!  What a wonderful idea, thank you!"

"Scottie?  Please go get the groceries out of the car for me, Sweetie."

"Yes, Mom."

As I started out of the room I stole a quick glance at Mrs. Miller and
saw her wink at me and smile.  I almost ran into the hall door jamb but
was able to catch myself and prevented yet another minor disaster.

It almost looked as if I was trying to run a bizarre race to unload my
mom's car and carry everything inside.  Had anyone asked me what I was
doing I probably would have ignored and convince them that I was daft.

Once the groceries were in the house I tried my hardest to be helpful
and unloaded everything without being asked.  I knew my mom was very
impressed because while she and Mrs. Miller were softly chatting in the
kitchen while a pot of tea was being brewed I saw her grin and barely
acknowledge my mature demeanor.  While my mom was collecting the cups,
saucers, spoons, and some delicate cookies that only she and her friends
could eat I saw my adult fantasy lover looking right at me and smiling.

My whole body was flushed with electric bursts of energy and I needed to
go do something, but I just didn't know what it was.  My problem was
resolved when my mom began to arrange everything on a fancy serving tray
that she liked to show off to her friends.  When my mom turned to take
their party stuff toward the living room, Mrs. Miller secretly motioned
for me to step closer and my feet acted without any conscious thought.
In a move that pretty much confirmed that I was in love for the first
time in my life, she waited until my mom was completely turned around,
wrapped her gloved hands around my head, and pulled my face directly
into her breasts for a brief but welcome hug.

The pressure of her mature development against my face was like a new
kind of pleasure that I'd never known or experienced before, the soft
elasticity of her tightly constrained breasts hidden but obvious.  She
knew I liked the feel of her ample femininity and seemed to revel in
holding my face against her breasts just long enough for me to be
hooked.  Had I been able to, I would have asked if I could stay right
there for the rest of my life, but she carefully pushed my body away and
held me at arm's length so she could follow my mother.

Our shared rapture didn't last quite long enough for me, but I knew not
to push the issue and watched Mrs. Miller wiggle her butt as she walked
away from me.  My precious and very provocative guest was flirting with
me and I immediately remembered what a few of the guys in the houses
around mine said about our very fashionable older neighbor.

Without any real intention to participate in their impromptu party I
shifted closer to the doorway between the kitchen and the living room
and was immediately reminded that adults and young boys don't normally
share private activities.

"Thank you for your help, Scott.  Go play in your room or outside, now."

"Yes, Mom."

My heart dropped and I'm sure Mrs. Miller could tell I wanted to be
near her quite a while longer, my expression indicative of a boy that
was just told he wasn't old enough to play with 'her crowd'.  I had just
turned around and was about to go to my room when Mrs. Miller came up
with a much more entertaining alternative to my being sent away to mope
and dream of days with my face pressed to her bare breasts.

"Dear, would you mind terribly if I borrowed your handsome son and asked
him to take care of my pussy for me?  Miss Persimmon would certainly
love the company and I'm sure she needs to be fed or played with as
well.  Would that be okay?"

"What a WONDERFUL idea!  Scott, take Mrs. Miller's house key and then
tend to her kitty, please."

"Yes, Mom!"

Since the key was still in my possession I took off running as one last
set of comments were lofted in my general direction.

"He's such a handsome young man.  I'm so glad you let him take care of
my pussy, Dear.  I hope you don't mind if I keep him busy for a few
minutes after our lovely chat.  There are just so many things that a
lady can't do that a strong young man can."

"Not at all!  It's a good idea to keep Scottie distracted or he'll
probably end up taking something apart or getting into something that he
shouldn't.  Thank you for helping me with my son, Mrs. Miller."

"It's no trouble at all, Dear.  No trouble at all."

I don't remember closing the front door or even touching the ground as I
flew from my house to hers, my feet moving a hundred miles an hour and
my body barely able to keep up.  Mrs. Miller actually wanted me to be
in her house and I felt so lucky for the opportunity.  If I was brave
enough and thought I had enough time I might venture a trip into her
bedroom so I could steal a quick look at her personal things, but most
of all her sexy gloves.

I didn't even bother with the cat for the first half minute, filling her
bowl to overflowing with dry food, dumping the half-consumed water bowl
out and refilling it again, using a carefully stationed plastic scoop to
locate and then remove any solid items from the cat box, dust it with
some baking soda like I was instructed to, and then consider if I was
brave enough to do as I had fantasized I might if I had the time.

The strain was too much and the time seemed right, so I left the cat in
the kitchen and ran to the front door so I could see if anyone was
walking down the sidewalk toward my protected domain.  With nobody along
the neatly trimmed entry walk I took off running toward the stairs and
must have hit a few of them but wasn't absolutely sure.  My chest was
pounding and my throat dry from having taken such deep breaths while
running at full speed, my only goal to find my way into her bedroom and
get my hands on her sexy clothes.

Once I was kneeling in front of her dresser again, I stopped my actions
to a virtual standstill because I didn't want to tread upon her sacred
territory without the proper regard for absolute reverence and respect
of hallowed ground.  All of the emotions and nervousness returned when I
placed my small hands on the highly polished brass drawer pulls, the
lightest tug toward my thumping heart all that was required to bring a
vision of Heaven into view.

The moment I saw the very same and incredibly erotic opera glove that
I'd fondled and temporarily worn before, I felt a wave of lust and
terror fill my whole body.  Right before my eyes and body was the very
thing that I craved and made my cock as hard as stone.  All it took was
the slightest motion for my hand to once again rest lightly on the
smooth metallic feel of her intensely stimulating hand and arm covering,
the silky elegance and satiny feel of the tightly woven fabric stirring
my mind and body into a raging fury that had no outlet -- yet.

To touch that precious personal accessory was like dying and following
the bright light of Heaven all the way to eternal bliss.  For almost ten
minutes I lovingly and excitedly caressed my prize from the ends of the
empty fingertips all the way to the carefully stitched opening where her
hand slipped inside and her arm was snuggly gripped.  I wanted to do
more than just touch and fondle my secret passion; I hungered to lift it
up, slip my small left hand inside, and then draw the length of her
garment all the way up my arm until I could pretend that her arm and
hand were once again lightly caressing my bare skin along my face.

Something told me I was taking too long just looking, so I listened for
anyone in her house, closed the drawer, and surrendered to one last
brief adventure that nobody would ever know about.  Slipping my right
hand inside one pair of her lovely white panties filled me with such
delight that I caught myself chuckling for a moment and unable to
suppress the absolute rapture at my success.  I felt so giddy with
confidence at accomplishing my goal that after a few more lewd touches I
closed that drawer and opened the last one.  Cupping the stiff fabric of
her bustier and pretending to fondle the breasts that she pulled my face
into filled me with utter joy, my small hands lightly fondling a woman's
undergarments and getting away with it.  My sexual adventures didn't
last long enough for me but I had to close the drawer and get back
downstairs before my mature fantasy lover returned.

Moments after I was laying on the floor in her living room and flicking
one of Miss Persimmon's toys around so she could swat at it and attempt
to claim what was bobbing around before her excited gaze Mrs. Miller
walked into the room.  Her movements were so hushed that I only became
aware of her presence when she knelt down behind me and gently pressed
her left hand to my right shoulder.

Instead of jumping in fear I froze in terror.

"Thank you for playing with my pussy, Scott.  It feels so nice when you
take out some of my pussy's toys and get it all excited.  I wish you
could stay here in my house with me and play with my pussy all day long.
Would you be willing to pet my pussy as much as I wanted you to and then
play with my pussy until we both felt very nice?"

The obvious sexual references were driving me crazy, but I dare not let
Mrs. Miller know what I was thinking.  If she assumed I was thinking
about what was inside her panties rather than what was eagerly playing
with a string bound feather, she'd probably slap me for being so rude.

She might have been expecting an answer but my brain was locked up with
thoughts of slipping my hand up inside her skirt and touching what she
had been hinting at.  I lay there completely still for almost ten
seconds after she stopped speaking, the weight of her gloved hand along
the outside of my right arm forcing me to focus my thoughts on her sexy
touch rather than her provocative words.

"Scott?  Would you like to stay here with me for a little while, please?
Your mother told me that I could keep you for a little bit if I wanted
to, but I don't want to hold you against your will.  If any of your
young friends found out I had kept you captive they might assume I was a
bad person, and I don't want any of you lovely boys to think ill of me
'cause I'm just a very lonely lady that needs lots of company.  Please
say you'll stay for a little while and talk to me, Scott, please?"

The guilt that I'd felt while fondling her sexy clothes was slowly being
transformed to pity for that sexy older lady that just needed a friend
to talk to and someone to visit with.  How could I refuse?  From some
place on the other side of the universe and with someone else's voice I
softly whispered what I hoped she wanted to hear.

"I'll stay with you as long as you want, Mrs. Miller."

"I'm so glad, Scott.  You've made me a very happy woman just now."

Her caress along the outside of my arm shifted over the front of my
shoulder and then down over my chest, her fingers lightly touching my
heaving and excited body and making me feel as if she wanted to do to me
what I was dreaming I could do with her underwear.  It felt so cool for
her hand to gently fondle my body, but she must have been just as
nervous as I was because she withdrew her hand, slipped it under my arm
a little bit, and then gently tugged upward.

"Come sit with me on the couch, Scott.  I'd like for us to finish that
talk we started inside your parents' lovely home."

All it took was the least amount of effort on her part and I was rising
off the floor as if I was a magician's prop completely unaffected by the
pull of Earth's gravity.  Without looking into her eyes I followed her
tender force and moments later was slowly pulled backward to the very
comfortable cushions of her couch.  Just as before she leaned into my
left side and pressed her crossed left knee into my left leg, her right
hand around my back and gently caressing my neck below my ear.

Her touch actually tickled a little bit at first and I couldn't help it
and tucked my head in that direction to prevent the playful caress.  She
giggled very softly and then pressed her mouth close to my left ear and
whispered just loud enough for my brain to recognize the words.

"My handsome little man is trying to fight the nice feelings, isn't he?
I'll bet he's never had a lady show him what nice things feel like, have
you, Scott?"

Even with my head tucked down over her hand slightly I acknowledged her
question and shook my head back and forth twice.

"No?  My, my!  I wonder if my handsome little man would like to tell me
what he thinks feels nice?  Do you think I might be able to coax some
words out of those luscious lips, Scott?  Hmmm?"

The effect of her tickles quickly dissipated in favor of a strong wave
of embarrassment and hunger, the sense of sexual maturity so strange to
me that I wasn't aware of the lingering consequences if I played my
cards right and let her teach me everything I needed to know.  All I
knew to do was to shrug once and then lean ever so slightly toward her.

That was her signal that I'd capitulated temporarily and would yield to
anything she might ask me to do.  I had no idea she already knew what
she was going to propose.

"Do you remember what I asked you before, Scott?"

I was so completely numb all I could do was shake my head 'no'.

"Did my handsome little man do something that's he's a little bit
embarrassed about?  I'll bet you wanted to see something that you've
never been allowed to see before, isn't that right, Sweetie?"

A single shrug was all she got as a response.

Rather than seem upset or even the least bit angry, Mrs. Miller cupped
her right hand a little ways around the right side of my neck, gently
pulled me closer to her, shifted her lips to my neck just below my left
ear, and then she did something that made my whole body erupt in tens of
thousands of electric buzzing sensations.  To feel her soft lips pressed
against the very sensitive skin of my tender neck was so thrilling, and
yet that's not all she did.

Still slightly shocked by her bold manners I just sat there as she
kissed me a second time a second later, and then opened her mouth,
extended her tongue a little bit, and gave me a tiny lick.  The
disparity of sensations was absolutely erotic, her warm tongue lightly
sweeping up the smooth bare area of my neck under my ear and then the
highly chilled sensation of her saliva after her tongue was drawn away.
I knew what she was doing had something to do with sex, but I was just
too inexperienced to know how or why.

After she tasted me like a vampire might just before stabbing her long
canine teeth into my bare flesh and sucking the life out of me so I
could be part of her collection of living undead, she pressed her lips
to my ear once again and whispered.

"What did you see in my bedroom, Scott?  Remember, if you promise to
tell me the truth, I'll promise not to be angry, Angel.  I'll be very
nice to you if you'll just tell me the truth."

Her words were like a truth serum that went into my ear, rattled around
inside my brain for a few milliseconds, and then traveled all the way
down my spine until I felt my toes tingle.  I knew I was going to tell
her everything and just had to accept that I was about to get into the
most trouble of my whole life.  There was only one other thing that I'd
done that nobody knew about, but that little girl was just too young to
tell her parents or mine that I'd rubbed her bare bum and even touched
her bald pussy that one time when I looked after her.  Now, Mrs. Miller
was going to coax some data from within my soul that would forever put
me on restriction in my room or get my butt whipped until I couldn't sit
down for weeks.

"I, uh . . . I . . . "

"It's okay, Sugar.  Tell Mrs. Miller everything and nothing bad will
happen, I promise.  Now, come on.  You know what you did and you can
tell me everything, can't you, Sweetie?"

Acting as boldly as my small terrified body could I sucked up my courage
and then whispered what I'd hoped she wanted me to tell her.

"I looked inside your dresser drawers, Mrs. Miller."

She leaned forward, kissed my neck very erotically again, pulled my body
slightly harder toward her, and then breathed her thoughts right into my
soul.  I was so excited I just couldn't move.

"Now see, Angel?  That's not so bad, now was it?"

After another kiss on my ear she pushed for more information.

"I promised I wouldn't be angry, Scott, and I'm not.  But I need for you
to tell me more, Angel.  I want you to tell me exactly what you found
when you looked in my private things . . . you naughty little man."

She kept kissing my neck and lightly stroking her gloved fingers across
the opposite side, her method of extracting information from me better
than any version I'd seen in the old black and white movies where mean
men used bright white lights in peoples' faces.

Like the drug-induced fool she had complete control over, my mouth began
to spill out details that I'd never imagined I would share with anyone.

"The first drawer I opened had all of your, um . . . panties and stuff.
I thought they looked so pretty that I, uhh . . . I touched some of them
on the outside just a little . . . I touched them a whole bunch and even
slipped my hand . . . I slipped my hand inside so I could see what they
felt like where you're, um . . . where . . . "

"What, Precious?  Tell me what you want to say to me.  Remember, I won't
be angry at all, because all we're doing is telling the truth, and when
someone tells the truth they don't get into trouble, now do they?"

Each time she'd ask for more and kiss my neck, I'd feel more of my soul
being ripped from my body to be replaced with a robot's metallic and
obedient brain, unable to do anything but obey my Mistress.

" . . . I wanted to see what it felt like where your . . . your soft
pussy is when you put your panties on."

She shifted her mouth to the bottom of my ear, sucked on my ear lobe,
and let it go with an erotic <smuck>.

"Why, you naughty naughty little boy.  You were trying to see where my
bare pussy touches the inside of my panties, weren't you, Scott?  I'll
bet it felt really nice inside my panties for you, didn't it, Angel?"

"Uh huh!"

"What else did you see, Honey?  Please tell me."

Rather than sound incredibly confident of even slightly angry, her tone
changed to an almost pleading and timid one, as if she was a little girl
my own age that wanted me to be her friend really badly.

"After I closed that drawer, I opened the next one and saw all sorts of
really pretty . . . sexy stuff that I'd never seen before.  It was all
so cool that I touched a bunch of them just like I touched . . . just
like I touched your panties."

Her whisper almost became a whimper as she kissed my ear and began to
lick the outside of my ear lobe.

"Tell me, Sugar.  Tell me what you touched and what you were thinking."

"I saw this really sexy outfit that was so see through that I . . . I
needed to see if I could see right through to the other side, so I put
my hand on the inside and I really could see everything."

"I'll bet you wondered what that naughty thing looked like with me in
it, huh Scott?"

"Uh huh."

"Come on, Sweetie.  Tell me more!"

She'd finally pressed me to tell her about my secret desires, all of her
other undergarments incredibly sexy and really pretty, but nothing as
utterly erotic as her gloves.  The moment was upon me and there was no
delaying the inevitable.

"After . . . after I closed that drawer, I opened . . . I opened the
third one and . . . and I saw all of your super sexy gloves."

I felt my whole body crumble into the center of the Earth and the world
suck the life right out of me.  My secret was out and Mrs. Miller was
now the only other person in the universe that knew what turned me on.

"Mmm hmmm?  Come on, Angel.  You know you need to tell Mrs. Miller
everything, don't you?  Tell me, Scott.  Tell me now."

Her kisses took on an almost desperate feel, as if she was just as
excited as I was.  It felt magical and something about her being that
pleased or at least not angry at all kept me going.

"I couldn't help myself and had to touch every single one, except for
the super super sexy ones that I just fell in love with.  The really
long black ones that look like those kind that pretty ladies like you
wear when you get to go to really special parties where everyone dresses
up like kings and queens and stuff . . . those . . . I had to take one
of those out of your drawer and not just touch it, but put my hand
inside and pretend you were showing me what they looked and felt like."

"Mmmmmmmm!  So . . . my naughty little man really likes my fancy opera
gloves, huh?  Did you like how they felt, Angel?"

"Ohhhh, yeahhhh!"

She could tell I was nearing the point of surrender or climax, my body
trembling and leaning into hers.  She didn't even have to apply any
pressure against my neck with her right hand because I was already
pressed so tightly to the right side of her body.  Had I been aware of
what my left shoulder was pushing against I might have tried to shift my
arm back and forth once or twice to feel the plump softness of her
mature right breast.

What she did and said next almost made me go screaming out of her house
in absolute terror.

"You stay right there on this couch, young man, and I'll be back in just
a minute.  Now . . . don't move or you'll make me angry, and I haven't
been angry so far, have I, Scott?"

"No Ma'am."

"Good boy!  Now . . . you just stay there and I'll be back."

Moments later she was out of the room and my whole body was tingling as
if I had sat down in a nest of voracious ants and they were ripping me
apart one small mouthful at a time.  I didn't have the courage to lift
my eyes when she came back into the room a minute later, nor did I move
when she sat back down in the same spot she had before.  It was only her
soft voice that encouraged me to lift my head slightly and turn my eyes
toward her.

"Look at me, Scott.  I want you to watch me do something."

When I looked up she was holding the very pair of long black opera
gloves that I'd touched myself, her left hand extended out in front of
her body and her right holding the sexy obsidian garment an inch away
from her left finger tips.

She watched my expression as she carefully drew the open end of that
wicked hand accessory over the ends of her digits and then drew it up
along her smooth bare arm until she wiggled it into place.  Once it had
taken position where she'd obviously worn it many times before, she
lifted the other article of posh clothing with her gloved left hand and
repeated the exercise, her right arm no more than a foot away from my
face and extended outward from her body in a perfectly horizontal pose
that made it look as if she was pointing away from her shoulder.

To further torture me she then began to stroke and caress each gloved
hand and tuck the fabric of each digit into place until both garments
assumed the exact shape of her lovely hands.  I could have watched her
fondle her own limbs and appendages for hours, but she had other plans.

She smiled at me and then shifted closer placing her gloved right arm
around my back and replacing her right hand along my neck just below my
right ear.  But she STILL wasn't finished, because she then placed her
black ensconced left hand onto my left leg less than an inch from my
body, dipped her fingertips down between my thighs, lightly began to
squeeze until we both knew she had a firm grasp of my throbbing dick,
and then pressed her lips to my ear as before.

"Would my fashion conscious and naughty little man like to touch my
glove now, Scott?  You can touch my gloved hand as much as you want to,
and even touch my arm all the way up as far as you want to, Sugar."

From some supremely wonderful part of another universe I felt my right
hand cross in front of my body and lightly stroke the back of her hand.
What I'd thought felt so sexy before was a million times better with her
hand in it.  As I lightly caressed and fondled her gloved hand, she kept
squeezing my cock with her fingertips and maintaining an even and sedate
pace that was so calming that I almost forgot my dick was under her
digits and she was touching me where no other girl ever had.

"How does that feel, Angel?  Do you like how it feels when we touch each
other like that?"

" uh huh "

"Go ahead, Scott.  I'll give you permission to touch as much of my hand
and arm as you want to, Angel.  Touch anything you want, Scott.  You go
ahead and touch me and I won't say a thing."

Her words buried deep into my brain and seemed to meld with an unknown
portion of my reptilian brain, as if no thoughts were required for my
next movements.

My left hand shifted from under her left forearm and lightly cupped the
inside of her wrist while my right hand pressed down onto the back of
her hand.  Once both of my small and very nervous appendages had claimed
her gloved limb, she shifted her hand slightly further between my legs,
tugged toward her, and then she began to grip only the bulbous throbbing
of my erect penis inside the left leg of my pants.  I immediately knew
that we had agreed to our unspoken arrangement of my hands on her hand
and arm while she gripped and fondled my aching and needy cock.

In my hormone clouded mind my left and right hands began to work further
up her arm until my left hand was lightly pressing against the front of
her body, the softness of her left breast against the back of my small
bare left appendage.  The sensation of her skin just beyond the tight
grip of her glove made me think that I was actually touching her naked
boob, my fingertips caressing her flesh and my right hand massaging her
upper arm in a series of repeated squeezes and releases.  Each time I'd
compress her arm firmly, she'd grip my cock at the same moment.  It was
almost as if my right hand applying pressure to her upper limb forced
her hand to grasp my cock with the same level of force.

Her phone ringing broke the haze of lust and I actually heard my older
lover curse out loud.

<RING>

"DAMN!  . . . Stay there, Precious.  Please don't move, okay?  Please?"

"Okay!  I'll stay here."

<RING>

Before she burst up off the couch she leaned forward and pressed her
painted bright red lips to mine and actually kissed me.  I couldn't move
for the next half minute, the buzzing sensation inside my body and
across my lips taking away any sense of intelligence I might have
claimed.  Even though she'd been fondling my cock outside my pants, I
just wasn't cognizant enough to realize we'd already begun to share a
special relationship that nobody else would ever find out about.

It was only her sitting next to me that broke my mindless reverie, her
right hand going around my body but not touching my neck as she did
before, and her left hand touching my knee rather than further up my leg
so she could grip my dick.

"I'm so sorry, Angel, but your mother called and said that you'll need
to go home in a few minutes.  Is there any way I can encourage you to
come back and visit with me later on today or maybe even tomorrow?  I
could sure use some company and have really enjoyed you being here with
me, Scott.  Please tell me you'll come back and see me, please?"

There was a desperation in her voice, a frightened little girl hiding
inside a grown woman's body pleading with me to come back and visit so
we could do some more fun stuff.  I had no idea what might happen later
but I knew I liked what had happened that afternoon.

"You'll let me come back and see you, Mrs. Miller?"

"Oh, YES, Sweetie!  Please say you'll come back and visit!"

"I'd like that very much."

Before I knew what had happened she pulled me into a very snug embrace,
the kind that my Gramma usually gave me when we first arrived at her
house for a family reunion.  What I wasn't aware of until after it was
over was where my face was, both of her plump breasts pressed quite
firmly into my face and almost cutting off my air.  But I didn't mind.

"Sweetie?  I think we better take care of something before you go home
that you may not know about at the moment.  Please don't be angry with
me or be embarrassed, but you've been so excited that you've gotten your
slacks a tiny bit wet where I, um . . . where your growing manhood is."

I immediately looked down and saw a large wet spot along the inside of
my left thigh, the end of my cock perfectly outlined by the snug fitting
fabric of my previously dry pants.

The first thing I did was to snap my legs closed and cover myself with
both hands, a feeling of absolute humiliation pouring through me as if
I'd been standing completely undressed in front of my whole class.  But
Mrs. Miller had already understood what I was going to feel and how I
was going to react because she leaned really hard into me again, tucked
her fingers under my hands, and once again claimed what was going to be
rightfully hers by the end of the day.

"NO!  NO!  NO, Angel!  Please don't be embarrassed about what just
happened, please!  All we have to do is get your pants dry so your
family isn't aware of how mature you are and nothing will ever be said.
Will you trust me, Scott, please?"

"I trust you, Mrs. Miller."

She smiled at me but didn't remove her left hand for a moment, her
fingertips gently cupping my throbbing dick and squeezing.

"I'm glad, Sugar.  I need for you to trust me as much as you can, okay?"

"I will, I promise."

"Wonderful!  Now . . . come with me to the bathroom so we can take care
of your slacks."

She literally dragged me up off the couch, down the hall to her
bathroom, and then closed the door behind us when we walked in.

"Now, you said you trusted me, didn't you, Scott?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Moments later she knelt down in front of me, reached to the waistband
snap of my pants, undid it, and then pulled my pants all the way to the
floor.  As soon as she saw my erection inside my underwear she groaned
and closed her eyes for a second while she sucked both of her lips
between her teeth.  Either she was really ashamed of how wet I was or
she might have been just as embarrassed as I was.

I stood there in my shirt and underwear as Mrs. Miller wet my pants
even more where the first wet spot was, but instead of getting it really
super wet she stopped and then pressed my pants between the folds of a
really thick towel.  Instead of watching what she was doing she kept
looking in the mirror at me, but more specifically at my throbbing woody
inside my underwear.  She really looked nervous or scared 'cause I saw
her shaking for a little bit while she dried my pants.

After she checked how wet they still were, she reached under the sink
for something, brought out a portable hair drier, plugged it in, and
turned it on.  The soft whir of the motor belied the fact that the heat
coming out of the long flexible hose was trying incredibly hard to
remove the evidence of her having gotten me so excited that it almost
looked like I'd peed my pants.

My pants were dry a lot quicker than I expected and Mrs. Miller looked
really relieved when she checked them both outside and inside.  I
actually heard her let out a soft sigh when her success was noted.

"Whew!"

She oriented my pants so I could step into them and I obeyed as if she
was dressing a three year old.  But instead of pulling my pants all the
way up my thighs she stopped just before my underwear got covered.  She
then looked up into my face from her kneeling position and very softly
asked me to confirm something.

"You trust me, don't you, Scott?"

"Yes Ma'am!"

"Then . . . please close your eyes for a second, Angel.  Don't ask why.
Just do as I say, please."

With my face tilted up to a normal position I closed my eyes and waited
for some mysterious activity to occur that I wasn't supposed to see.

Fractions of a second later I felt her cheek pressed against the front
of my underwear, a series of side-to-side movements slowly bringing her
mouth closer and closer to the end of my dick and the still wet area of
my underpants.

My curiosity was too overwhelming so I carefully lowered my chin to my
chest and opened my eyes just enough to see her slowly shaking her head
in a 'no' gesture but instead of denying something she was pressing her
lips and cheeks against my cock and intentionally wetting her face with
my clear precum.  The low sound of her whimpers and moans filled the
bathroom with a gentle echo, as if she needed to share in sound what was
going on in her heart.

The sensation was so incredibly thrilling that I wanted her to do more,
but I was still too naive to understand why it felt so good and what she
had in mind or might soon want in her mouth.

After she sated her curiosity or need, she leaned back, used her gloved
right hand to gently grasp my underwear-constrained cock, and actually
sounded as if she was in pain when she whispered to herself.

"Oh Dear God!  Such a handsome young cock!"

I watched as she stared at my dick with unusual fascination, her intense
gaze so strong it felt like my cock was on fire.  Since my pants were no
longer in the way she was able to take a much more commanding grasp of
my penis and rather firmly wrapped her digits around it and squeezed.  I
could actually feel my shorts get wetter as some clear ooze was forced
out, Mrs. Miller so close to my dick I could feel her breath when she
softly spoke in a trembling voice.

"Scottie, Angel . . . please don't ever say anything to anyone and
forgive me for doing this, but I must!"

Half a second later she pulled my shorts down just enough to expose my
dick and watch it pop out toward her like a spring loaded toy.  She then
took it with her right hand and pulled it straight out away from my body
as if she was testing how far it could go.  A low guttural groan escaped
her lips and just as quickly as she withdrew my penis she worked me back
inside, drew my shorts up, and then tugged my pants back into place.
Within seconds my clothes were back as they had been and she was gently
turning me around so we could leave.

When we got to the front door she turned me around once again, pulled my
face into her breasts and gave me another Gramma hug.  Even with my nose
pressed quite firmly into her chest and my ears being tickled by the
softness of her dress as she wrapped her arms about my head I could hear
her ask me something.

"Would you promise me to keep our little secret, Angel?"

A single nod was all she needed to let out a long sigh and then release
my head.  I really didn't want her to, but adults always seemed to know
when to do the right thing so I didn't argue.

After she let me go and held me in place just in front of her full bosom
she looked into my eyes with a very timid expression and once again
pleaded with me.

"Will you come see me really soon, Scott?  I'd really like you to come
over again so we can talk some more."

Talk -- right!

"Sure!  I'll come over if you want me to."

I could have pulled away and run all the way home at that moment, but
instead I watched as she leaned down and pressed her lips to mine.  For
almost fifteen or twenty seconds I felt the softness of her full adult
lips on my immature mouth, something about that kiss stirring me to lift
both hands and place them along the sides of her body.  What I hadn't
expected was for my reach to be less than I expected, because rather
than my touching her around her back or under her arms, my hands landed
on the sides of her ample breasts.

That seemed to drive her on more because instead of being angry at my
trying to touch her boobs, she opened her mouth a little bit and began
to softly nibble on my bottom lip and even lick me with her tongue like
she did on my neck.  I was too frightened to cup her breasts like I had
her bustier and just stood there and let her kiss me.

Before I knew where I was my feet had carried me out of her house and
down the sidewalk toward mine.  I was a total basket case and had no
idea how I looked or what kind of expression I had on my face.

After I got inside I went straight to the bathroom and went pee, the
evidence of my arousal all over my underwear.  I was so scared my mom
would find out I'd wet my undershorts that I repeated what Mrs. Miller
had with the water and towel.  I wasn't able to get them dried since my
mom's hair drier was in their bathroom, but I was able to get them dry
enough so I could put them back on.  I was a nervous wreck for the rest
of the evening.

The next day I was incredibly anxious to go see my mature fantasy lover
but when I knocked on her front door nobody answered.  My only recourse
was to stay out in front of the houses on the street and try to engage
the other kids in a quick game of dodge-ball.  Since I was the oldest of
the group and the youngest was about six, I had a tremendous advantage
and was able to knock a bunch of the smaller kids out of the game right
away.  My attention was so focused on the game that I forgot why I was
playing and got a bit overzealous in my efforts to smack one of the more
agile older kids, but I kept trying.

It was when the two of us were the last ones in the street and I had
possession of the ball that I reeled back and really flung the ball as
hard as I could at my rival.  Unfortunately my aim was slightly off and
the ball hit a parked car to the left of my competition and immediately
went flying into the air and of all places in the direction of the only
yard that had anything to be damaged.

We all watched the ball make an impressive arc in the air from where it
bounced off the car and travel in slow motion right into Mrs. Miller's
lovely collection of flowering bushes.  The rather large red rubber ball
came crashing down with much more force than I could have imagined, a
tall rosebush the first thing it hit, and then taking down one after
another set of pretty flowers until we saw a wide swath of destruction
left in its wake.

I felt my whole body sink into the asphalt and watched my playmates
scatter like cockroaches in the kitchen when the lights come on.  It was
the familiar high pitched sound of my female nemesis from next door that
resounded my death knell, a younger little girl from one door over that
just loved to tattle on me every chance she could.

"Ummmmm!  Scottie!  I'm gonna tell!"

"NO!  WAIT!"

Before I could stop her she took off like a shot straight for my front
door and toward the only adult woman that could make me crumble by the
sheer sound of her voice.  Moments after the little bitch next door (I
didn't know that word until a few years later) ratted on me, my mom
yelled from the open front door and I knew I was going to be spending
about three weeks in my bedroom doing math word problems.

"SCOTT!!!"

The little bitch from next door looked so incredibly smug as she stood
next to my mother's kitchen apron and looked back at me with a wide
smile.  I made my way home with my head down and my feet dragging and as
soon as I was walking up the steps I heard Little Miss Tattle tail add a
measure of pain to my already abused humiliation.

"Told ya!  You're in trouble now, Scottie!"

I might have wanted to mutter something foul but my mom was too close
and would have heard me, so I kept my mouth shut and cautiously drew
nearer until my mom grabbed me by my right each lobe and promptly walked
me down the sidewalk to Mrs. Miller's house with Little Miss Terror
walking mere inches behind me and grinning from ear-to-ear at the
injustice being heaped upon me by my mom.

Some time between starting the game of dodge-ball and my being dragged
by my ear to my former fantasy girl's house there was a major change in
her presence, my mom's rather boisterous knock on Mrs. Miller's front
door answered by none other than my very well dressed dream girl.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Miller, my son has damaged some of your lovely flowers with a red
rubber ball that he threw into your yard and he needs to apologize and
make amends."

My mom tried to lift me off the sidewalk by my ear and then practically
yelled at me in a slightly reduced voice.

"Now you apologize to Mrs. Miller, Scott!"

"Ow, ow, ow!  I'm sorry, Mrs. Miller!  I'm truly sorry!  I'll fix
everything, I promise!"

By the expression on her face I could tell Mrs. Miller didn't like the
way I was being lifted into the air by my ear, and she also seemed
mystified at my mother's need to punish me so harshly for something that
wasn't genuinely intentional.

But what surprised me even more was when Mrs. Miller lunged forward and
grabbed my other ear and pulled me out of my mother's grip.

"SCOTT!  How could you DO such a thing?"

She then turned to my mother and with a strong glare informed my mom
that I was about to be shown a true measure of justice.

"Dear, let me have him for a little while so I can show him how I feel
about his actions.  Don't you worry about a thing because I'll be sure
to give him a good tongue lashing and set his bum on fire."

"That's just fine, Mrs. Miller.  You make sure you show him what's
right and what's wrong, and I'll leave his discipline in your capable
hands."

"Very well!  Scott, you come into my house this minute!"

Just before I was pulled inside her house I saw my little next door
neighbor grinning like an opossum with a bushel full of ripe fruit.  My
mom led her by the hand back down the sidewalk and I was actually scared
of Mrs. Miller for the first time in my life.

When her front door was closed and then locked, she immediately let my
ear go, wrapped me in a very tight hug, and then began to softly talk to
me in a very uncharacteristic voice.

"Oh, Scottie!  I'm sorry, Angel.  I hope I didn't hurt you, Sweetie, but
I needed to make sure your mother believed I was going to spank you or
something.  Please tell me your lovely ear is okay, Sugar?"

I was so confused I couldn't say a thing and just stood there in her
grasp, my face again pressed between her soft boobs and her arms as far
around my small body as she could get them.

"Scottie, Angel, please talk to me, Honey!  Please tell me that I didn't
hurt you, Sweetie!"

"No . . . no . . . I'm okay."

"Oh thank God!  I was so afraid I hurt that lovely ear of yours.  Let me
kiss it and make it feel better, okay?"

Before I had a chance to answer she had my head in her hands and was
pressing her lips to my ear, working her kisses from the top of my lobe,
all the way around the outside, and only stopped when she had sucked my
dangling part into her mouth.  She actually suckled my ear for a few
seconds and made all those wonderful feelings come back that I'd enjoyed
the day before.  In a matter of a few seconds I completely forgot about
the pain that my mom had imparted.

"Oh, Baby, I'm so sorry for acting like that, but I needed to get you
inside my house as quickly as I could, and I was sure your mother would
have wanted you to dig a hole all the way to China to make amends if I
didn't pretend to be mean.  Please tell me you're not angry with me."

"I'm okay, Mrs. Miller.  Really."

"Does your ear feel better now, Sugar?"

<smack> <suck> <suck> <slurp>

"Mmmmm!  Yeah . . . it feels really nice now."

"Good!  Now . . . give Mrs. Miller a nice big hug so I know you're not
mad at her one little bit.  Come on!  Wrap your arms around me and give
me a hug and prove to me that I'm not the evil witch that all the other
children think I am."

I leaned forward, extended my arms out around her, and attempted to give
her the kind of hug that she asked for.  But because of the difference
in our heights my blind reach was only high enough for one of my hands
to land on the top edge of her skirt in back along the zipper, and my
other hand fell square onto her plump and very soft butt.  As soon as I
discerned what my hand was cupped over I knew I really was going to get
a spanking.

"Mmmmmm!  That's my naughty little man!  You wanna touch more than my
panties and bustiers, don't you, Angel?"

Although she was right I couldn't say anything nor move my head up and
down to acknowledge her or shake it side to side to deny her claim.

"Go ahead, Sweetie.  Give me a nice big hug and show your big girlfriend
that you like to touch lots of things in her house."

Acting on the belief that she was far more intelligent than I was, I
gripped her slightly tighter and even squeezed her fanny with the same
hand that had accidentally landed on my latest area of interest.

"Mmmmmm!  That's it!  Give me a nice big hug and press that strong hand
on my body so I know what you want, Angel."

Even with my body shaking and my head unable to consider the dire
consequences of my actions, my right hand slowly increased the area of
coverage and degree of movement until I was openly fondling her butt.

"Oooooo, that feels so nice, Angel!"

She hesitated for a moment and then softly whispered into the top of my
head as I pressed my nose into one of her breasts.

"Scott?  May I touch what I want to now?"

All she got was a single nod, my nose going up and down against her
blouse and the distinct sensation of soft skin inside her blouse one
moment and then the firm support of her equally hidden bra the next.

Rather than act boldly, she gently shifted her right hand from around my
back and then worked it between our bodies, my hip pushed out slightly
when she was close enough so she had plenty of room.  The instant she
had a firm grip of something that was hard and highly confined, she let
out a soft moan and then removed her hand.

"Mmmmm!  Nice!"

I would have figured she would have wanted to touch me more and seemed
to sense it was my turn to remove my hand as well.  I didn't want to,
but it seemed the right thing to do.  Mrs. Miller took my head in her
hands, tilted my head back a little bit, and then kissed me very softly.
After a few seconds she pulled back, smiled at me, and then changed her
expression.

"Angel, I know this may seem very strange, but I need to make sure all
the other children, especially that bratty little girl, think I'm being
mean to you, okay?  I'm not really going to be angry with you, but I
want you to pretend that I am so it will look authentic.  I'm going to
ask you to open the front door, walk outside, get the ball that must
have accidentally been tossed into my silly yard, and then bring it back
to me.  Whatever you do just remember that anything I do in front of
them is just for show and means nothing, okay?  Can you do that?"

"Yes Ma'am!"

"Good boy!  Now, give me a little kiss so I don't feel so bad for
yelling at you, even if it's just for show."

I smiled, puckered, and then felt her press her lips to mine as if we
were meant to be together.  While I was kissing her, which in itself
seemed bizarre because I was starting to participate, she took my left
hand and placed it onto her right breast, cupping my fingers over her
boob and squeezing so I could tell she wanted me to do that.  It felt
magical, but didn't last long enough for me to be truly happy.

Moments later she pulled back, pushed me backward a little bit, turned
me around, and then forced me toward the front door.  As soon as my hand
was touching the knob she stopped me.

"Don't move, Scott.  Please don't be angry with me, but I need to make
this look good, so forgive me, Sweetie."

A fraction of a second later I felt her hand on my butt, a very
respectable swat offered to my surprised body and an immediately reply
resounding through the room and even across the boundary of the front
door.

<SMACK>

"OW!"

It was loud enough and my response genuine enough that when she wrenched
the front door open and pushed me through it almost all of the kids in
the street that had been hanging around to discuss what kind of trouble
I was in watched as I glared over my shoulder at my creative older
playmate and rubbed my butt to ease the pain.

"You go get that ball and bring it here to me, Scott, right NOW!"

Her voice was so commanding and her tone so authentic that I had to
think for a moment to be certain it was just an act, but she never
changed her expression and glared at me very sternly.

"Come on, now!  Hurry up!  I haven't got all day!"

I pushed my way through one of the bushes, collected the ball, turned
around, saw the little girl that had ratted on me smiling because of my
abuse, and then returned to her front door.

"You get inside this house right now, young man!"

As the last two words escaped her lips, she swung her right hand again
and landed a perfect shot on my ass, everyone in the immediate area
perfectly aware of the swat and my reaction.

<SMACK>

"OW!"

Fractions of a second later I was pushed inside her house and the door
was closed and locked.  The force of her spanking was so real that I
actually felt a fairly intense stinging that I hadn't been aware of
since I was last spanked by my mom when I started a small fire in the
back yard.  But rather than continue the physical abuse, Mrs. Miller
dropped to her knees, pulled me into a very tight hug and began to
apologize profusely.

"Oh, Angel!  I'm so very sorry I did that, but you must understand that
the other children have to believe that you're miserable inside my house
right now.  If they didn't, they wouldn't leave you alone after I take
you home later on today.  Please tell me you understand, Sweetie?"

"I do, Mrs. Miller.  I really do."

"Oh, Angel, I'm so glad and you need to know that I truly feel bad about
hitting your tender fanny, Sweetie.  I hope I didn't really hurt you a
lot, did I?"

"Naw, not really.  It kinda hurt a little bit, but because you only
spanked me those two times, it doesn't hurt a lot any more."

I actually saw a single tear form in her right eye and then roll down
her soft cheek, such a genuine measure of remorse expressed that I felt
worse for her than I had for my slightly sore butt.  That's when she did
something that totally blew me away.

"Come with me, Sugar.  I need to be punished for hurting my little man."

She took my right hand and led me to her living room, the distance from
the front door just enough that we'd be able to conduct whatever form of
retribution without anyone hearing.

To my horrified amazement, she drew me toward the far end of her couch,
stood me at her side, lifted her skirt up over her ass, revealed her
thigh high stockings, garter, and panties, bent over the edge of the
couch, and then pushed her gorgeous ass out as far as she could.

"Okay, Sweetie.  Give me two swats like I did so we can be even."

"Huh?"

"Come on, Angel.  I want you to give me a spanking.  You can do it,
Angel.  Please, give me a spanking."

"Uhhh . . . I don't think I can do that, Mrs. Miller!"

"Sure you can, Honey.  Just put your hand on my rear and when you feel
ready just pull your hand back and give me a nice spanking."

The term 'nice spanking' slipped my notice, but her plump round ass and
sexy legs didn't.

Acting on the belief that I might be able to just give her a soft swat
and then be done with it, I shifted out slightly, turned so I was facing
her beautifully exposed backside, placed my right hand on her pantied
bottom, reached back about six inches, and then gave her a tiny smack.

<pat>

"Come, come now, Angel.  You can do a lot better than that."

"But, Mrs. Miller!  I've never spanked a lady before."

"There's always a first time, Angel, and once you start to spank me
you'll like it, now come on!  Put your hand on my bum and give me a nice
spanking.  If you need to after you hit me rub your hand all over my bum
so the pain will go away.  Can you do that?"

"I . . . I . . . I don't know!"

"Please try, Sweetie.  I don't mind at all and deserve to be spanked
because I've been a very bad little girl.  Now, put your hand on my
butt, rub a little bit for a minute, give me two nice swats or maybe
more if you like it, and then rub me as much as you think I need so the
pain will go away.  You can do it, Sweetie.  Come on!"

My hand went back to her lovely ass, I cupped one and then her other
full cheek, rubbed a few times, reached back, and then applied a fairly
respectable swat on her pantied bum.

<pop>

"Muhh!  That was nice, Sweetie, but you can spank me a little bit harder
next time.  Do it over again and get it right.  If you don't, you'll
have to do it a whole bunch until I'm sure you're doing a good job."

There was a message being broadcast very clearly but I wasn't mature or
experienced enough at the time to get properly tuned it.  I would learn
eventually, but at that moment I was horribly intimidated.

"Come on, Scott.  Put your hand on my bum, rub around until you find a
nice spot, reach back a little bit and give me a nice spanking.  I know
you can do it."

I hesitated a bit longer and Mrs. Miller considered a whole new way of
coercing me to give her what we both wanted.

"Sweetie, if you do a good job and spank me well, I'll do something very
special for you afterward, okay?"

"What are you gonna do?"

"It's a secret, but you'll like it a lot.  I promise.  Now . . . put
your hand on my bum . . . that's it . . . "

My right hand cupped her pantied backside and I was shaking in terror at
touching a woman's fanny so openly.

" . . . now rub my bum a little bit . . . "

I was amazed she could control me that easily, the elegant softness of
her panties so much more exciting because she was still in them.

" . . . find a nice place to touch me further underneath . . . "

In a move that was as far from reality as it could possibly be, my small
hand tucked under slightly and I felt the rubbery hidden dimensions of
something that I hadn't even dreamed of before far between her thighs.
I was sure I was dreaming because I was actually rubbing my hand between
her legs and touching her private place over and over again.

" . . . Ohhhhh, yeah!  Like that!  Mmmmmm!  Now . . . really quickly,
just reach back and give me a nice spanking.  DO IT!"

<SMACK>

"NUHHHH!!!"

<SMACK>

"Neeeee-aaahhhhh!!!"

<SMACK>

"Sssssssssss!  Yeah . . . I'm a bad girl and I need to be spanked.  Come
on, Angel, spank me again!"

<SMMAACCKKK!!!!>

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!  Unnnggg . . . Oh God, that felt good!  Now . . . rub
me all over and make the naughty sting go away."

I watched my small right hand cover every sexy square inch of her
covered bottom in long slow sweeps, nothing missed and everything
enjoyed.  Each of my movements caused a slight indentation in her
pantied flesh and seemed to draw me further into her plan as my
appendage grew accustomed to her softness.

"Nuh . . . nuh . . . now, rub me underneath, Baby, and make the feeling
get a lot better."

With my heart pounding in my chest and none of my previous injury
anywhere on my mind or affecting my body my fingers teased down along
her curved crease and tucked underneath again.  Mrs. Miller arched her
back like a cat in heat and spread her legs to afford me as much room as
she possibly could, my short digits tucked under and following the
gentle sweep of her underneath until I had my hand all the way between
her legs.  There was a distinct wetness to her panties between her
thighs and it was very similar to how my undershorts felt when she got
me excited.  I instantly began to become aware of the growing passion in
our new game and tickled back and forth along a hidden cleft that I'd
yet to learn about.

"Nnnnnn!  Ohhh, that feels so wonderful, Scott!  Rub me like that a
little harder and touch me as much as you want to, Sweetie."

I was getting into exploring her and bent down so I could see what I was
fondling when the phone rang.

<RING>

She immediately let out a loud rude remark and burst up off the couch.

"DAMN!"

She stumbled a little bit and seemed very uncoordinated until she took a
deep breath and then sedately walked toward her kitchen.

<RING>

"Hello?"

<pause>

"Oh, YES, Dear!  I did indeed spank his little bottom for what he did.
Did the children out front tell you about that?"

<pause>

"My, My!  I guess she's the neighborhood newspaper, isn't she?"

I knew exactly who Mrs. Miller was referring to.

<pause>

"Actually, Dear, we're having a rather stern discussion about discipline
and he's beginning to become aware of just how important it is to do it
right.  If you don't mind I'd like to finish what I started so he's
completely under my control."

<pause>

"Exactly!  Once he understands his position in a woman's domain, he'll
be very careful about what he does and how he handles things.  Are you
sure you don't mind if I keep him over here for the rest of the
afternoon?  I'll be sure and bring him home when I'm sure he's had
enough, if that's okay with you."

<pause>

"Wonderful!  Then I'll be sure to feed him as well.  What time should I
bring him home so he can start getting ready for bed?"

<pause>

"Then, nine o'clock it is.  I can't thank you enough for letting me take
care of Scott like this, Dear, and you be sure to tell that little girl
that I've got Scott just where I want him."

<pause>

"Very good.  Hold on, Dear . . . Scott?"

"Yes Ma'am?"

"Come into the kitchen for a moment, please.

It only took me a couple of seconds to be standing in front of her.

"Your mother would like to speak to you, Scott."

"Yes Ma'am . . . hello?"

"Scott?"

"Yes, Mom?"

"You do everything Mrs. Miller tells you to.  You've been very rude
today and she's going to take care of giving you the discipline that you
deserve.  Don't you dare backtalk her or argue or I'll finish you off
after she brings you home later, okay young man?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Very good.  She's going to give you a small dinner because I need to go
visit someone for a little while.  Mrs. Miller will be bringing you
home around nine tonight and if I'm not back in time, you're to be
polite and wait with her until I get home, is that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Alright, then.  I hope you learned your lesson, Scott.  You should be
more careful from now on, alright?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"We're doing this for your own good, Scott, and some day you'll
understand that.  Now . . . give me a kiss and say goodbye."

"Bye Mom, <smack>."

I felt silly giving my own mother a kiss over the phone, but she still
thought of me as a little boy, not a man like Mrs. Miller did.

"Hand the phone to Mrs. Miller, Scott."

"Here, Mrs. Miller."

"Hello Dear?"

<pause>

"Very good then, I'll talk to you later, Dear.  Goodbye."

<pause>

"Yes, thank you.  Bye!"

<click>

As soon as she hung the phone up Mrs. Miller turned toward me, pulled
me into a very tight hug, and then kissed my neck.

"I've got you all to myself for a little while, Angel, and I made you a
promise before and I'm going to keep it.  Come with me so I can keep my
promise to you, Sweetie."

"Kay."

She held my hand tight to her bum as she led the way out of the kitchen,
through the living room, through the hall, and then up the single flight
of stairs.  Moments after we were on the second floor she pulled me into
her bedroom, turned around, and then closed the door.  She had a very
sexy smile on her face and pulled me into yet another wonderful hug.

"Mmmmmm!  I'm so glad you've been a good boy for me, Sweetie.  But I'm
going to only give you what I promised after we take care of some
business that was left unfinished from yesterday."

Looking deep into her eyes I began to sweat, the past day's events still
very fresh in my mind.

"Do you remember what we were talking about yesterday, Scott?"

"Uhhh . . . kinda."

"What were we discussing, Angel?"

"About me looking in your dresser drawers and touching stuff that didn't
belong to me."

"And what did I say about your touching my panties and other delicate
unmentionables, Scott?"

"I think you said that you weren't mad, or something like that."

"That's right, Honey.  Now you're gonna show me what you did with my
personal belongings, and I want you to touch everything that you did
when I wasn't here to watch."

<Gulp!>

"Come kneel in front of my dresser, Angel, and show me what you did."

In my lust clouded mind I was completely unaware of any movement until I
was positioned as I was the last time, my knees pressed to the floor, my
hands on the shiny drawer pulls, and Mrs. Miller behind me, pushing me
forward with her body and holding me back with her hands around my
chest.

"Go ahead, Sugar.  Open the first drawer and show me what you were doing
when my pussy was on the bed."

When she said the word 'pussy' she intentionally pushed forward with her
hips and made certain I knew which one we were both thinking about.

My hands acted almost exactly as they had before, her panties fondled,
her other clothes caressed and explored, and everything in her drawer
left fairly undisturbed.  As I shifted my right hand inside her panties
so I could fondle the inside of the gusset she dropped her right hand
and cupped my throbbing cock.

"How does it feel to rub the very same place that touches my pussy,
Scott?  Do you like how that feels?"

I wasn't sure which feeling I was supposed to tell her I liked more, my
hand inside her underwear or her hand kneading my cock.

"Thah . . . that feels nice."

"Would you like to open the second drawer now?"

"Uh huh!"

A similar examination, exploration, and molestation was conducted of her
more exotic undergarments, including both of my hands cupping her
bustier where her breasts normally were confined.

"Mmmmmm!  My naughty little man wants to know what my breasts feel like,
doesn't he?"

" yeah "

"Well . . . we'll have to see about that, now won't we?"

" uh huh "

"And which drawer is your favorite, Angel?  Tell me."

"The next one."

"Show me, Scott.  Show me what you want to see and touch."

My hands were shaking so much I almost couldn't grip the drawer pulls so
I could open it up and look inside.  The fact that Mrs. Miller was
openly fondling and gripping my growing cock might have had something to
do with that.

By the time I had her opera length glove over my left arm and had tugged
it into place, she had undone my pants, unzipped them, pushed them down
a little bit, and then had a handful of my cock inside my underwear.

"My handsome fashion connoisseur likes playing with my fancy gloves,
doesn't he?"

" uh huh "

"Well . . . then I guess it's time I fulfilled my promise, isn't it?"

"I guess."

"Take the other glove out, Sweetie."

Using my left gloved hand I lifted the perfectly matched twin into the
air slightly and was about to slip it onto my right hand.

"Not yet, Honey.  I've got something else to do first.  Hold the glove
in one hand carefully and close the drawer."

My movements were exactly as she had commanded, the empty glove in my
left hand and my right pushing the drawer back into place.

"Lower the glove to my right hand, Sweetie."

I wasn't truly aware of where her right hand was until I felt her grip
my bare cock and give me a nice squeeze.  As soon as the fabric of her
glove fell across the highly sensitive skin along the top of my penis I
became aware of a whole new need that I hadn't considered.  Mrs. Miller
was far ahead of me and knew that all along.

"Now . . . let that wonderful satiny glove caress your nice big cock,
Angel.  Drape it very lightly and just let the fabric tease this sweet
sample of growing manhood."

For the next few minutes both Mrs. Miller and I shifted the soft
material of her glove back and forth over my ten year old dick, the
sensation so intense I could feel an electric buzzing deep inside my
body close to where my penis met my hips.

"Does that feel nice, Baby?  Do you like to play this naughty game with
your big girlfriend?"

" yeah "

"You'll really like this next part then.  Stand up, Scott."

It took me a moments to get myself vertical, but once I was I looked
down to see Mrs. Miller gently take her glove away from me and do
something that I couldn't have possibly dreamed of.

With my eyes bugged out of my head and my whole body tingling from
intense excitement, I watched as she held the open end of her glove
close to the end of my penis and then slip it over my throbbing ten year
old cock.  She didn't stop until every bit of her accessory was tucked
over my aching dick and she began to jack me with her right hand.

Rather than say anything she just looked up into my face from her
kneeling position and maintained a rhythmic fucking movement with her
hand over my glove-ensconced penis.  I was getting closer to something
that I'd never felt before, but I knew it was good because my heart was
hammering in my chest and my whole body was buzzing with electricity.

Mrs. Miller could read me like an open book, the movements of her right
hand increasing until she knew I was well beyond intelligent discourse.
That's when I felt a whole new universe open to me and became aware of
sex for the first time.

To confirm what had claimed my greatest admiration I tilted my head down
and looked where her glove and right hand used to be, her mouth now on
and fully around the end of my cock and moving further down.  It looked
so nasty for her to have my woody in her mouth but the feeling was way
too good for me to make any rash judgments about decency or morality at
that moment.  The only thing I wanted was for her to keep doing what she
was doing.

She did!

For the next half hour and with my back eventually pressed to her bed
she fellated me with long confident strokes, her lips and tongue so soft
and hot that I knew I wanted her to do that with me for the rest of my
life.  Mrs. Miller knew everything she needed to know about me, the end
of my penis incredibly sensitive but her handling of it so expert that I
was never in any pain or tried to push her mouth off of me.

The strong sensations of pleasure grew within me over a long period of
time until something began to tickle me deep within my dick and balls.
It was an intensely strong but very welcome sensation that I began to
crave, my hands lightly tugging on her head so she'd go a little bit
faster and push her lips around my cock a little bit further.

And then it happened.

With a surge of a bolt of lightning through my body and a bright white
flash in my eyes I felt something happen in my cock that was just as
quickly inside Mrs. Miller's mouth.  For almost thirty seconds I felt
wave after wave of muscular contractions from deep within, my hips
undulating into her face and my dick thrust as hard into her mouth as I
could get it.

As the first blast of energy shot through my body Mrs. Miller began to
whimper, moan, and hum onto my penis, her bobbing movements converted to
a strong suction that was immediately followed by the feeling of her
mouth swallowing repeatedly.  With each successive eruption of vigor
from my body she sucked and then swallowed, every bit of my strength
being drawn out of my body through the end of my cock, and all of it
going into Mrs. Miller's mouth.

What I didn't know at the time was just how talented my mature lover
was, her handling of my penis during and after I orgasmed something that
was far more than experience, it was absolute devotion.  For the next
half hour she kept mouthing and softly suckling my cock, the firmness
slightly less but the need to keep it in her mouth intensely strong.
And when she knew I was ready she pulled her mouth up and off my penis,
rose to her feet, and then leaned over my body with her hands pressed to
the bed alongside my head.

"Did my naughty little man like the way I kept my promise?"

All I had the strength for was a single nod.

"And would my handsome little man like to see what his big girlfriend's
panties and bra feel like when she's wearing them?"

My eyes grew slightly bigger around and I nodded again.

"Then, you'll need to help me with my blouse and skirt, Honey.  Come on
and sit up so you can help undress me."

She didn't even bother to pull my shorts or pants up when she helped me
assume a more vertical stance on her bed, my reach toward her just
enough for me to be able to undo every one of the buttons on her blouse
until all of them were free, including along her sleeves.

"Unclip my skirt and unzip me, Sweetie."

She turned to her left and presented her right hip to me, my fingers
fumbling with the clasp for a moment until I figured it out, and then
tugging the zipper down until there wasn't enough around her hips to
keep her skirt in place.  In a silent hush I watched her skirt fall and
saw the fullness of her stocking covered legs come into view, and ogled
her pantied body when she lifted one and then the other leg to free her
feet.  As soon as her skirt fell, her blouse was able to open completely
and I saw her bra for the first time.  It was half-cut and showed a very
ample portion of the top of her boobs but enough of her breasts covered
that her nipples were still hidden.

I got to push her blouse over her shoulders and watch it drop behind
her, the fullness of her maturity exemplified by her plump breasts.  She
seemed to feel tremendous pleasure at my staring at her sweet and ample
development, my eyes locked onto the upper halves of her tits as they
were being displayed so deliciously in her half-cut bra.

"Go ahead, Angel.  You can touch anything you see."

I was amazed at how liberal she was with my sexual interest and strong
youthful curiosity, my hands lifted and then lightly placed onto the
soft elegance of her bare flesh.  I lightly stroked and caressed her
boobs for about half a minute before she grew impatient and tugged my
head forward and enveloped my face with something that I only could have
dreamed about one day before.

"Nuzzle and kiss them, Baby, 'cause right now these are all just for
you, and for you to play with and enjoy for as long as we have time for.
Go ahead, Sweetie.  Do anything that you want to with my breasts."

For the next few minutes all I did was touch and explore the plump and
glorious sweetness of her maturity, my fingertips traveling across every
measure of her breasts except for the hidden portion that captivated my
interest but remained protected.  With my thirst for knowledge peaked
and my digits sampling from one side of her upper body to the other, I
began to trace a series of arcs across the front edge of her bra across
the boundary between her nudity and her decency.  She was really excited
and liked the way I touched her because her chest was heaving and her
eyes were closed.  We were a perfectly matched team.

The lacy edges of her bra were lightly touched and the stitching of her
bra was examined with greater fascination until I saw the obvious and
very different features of her areolas and nipples.  Behind the tight
weave and fancy design of her normally hidden top was something that I
became intrigued with, so my fingers began to trace a series of small
circles over the top of the fabric and mimicked where her natural
features began and ended.

Each time I'd run the tips of my digits over her erect and highly
sensitive but tightly constrained nipples she'd whimper and lean
slightly forward as if to encourage me to touch her there some more.
That was my cue to give her what she wanted, focusing my interest on her
rigid extensions until she couldn't take anymore.

"Oh, Angel!  I know I may be pushing you too quickly, but I need for you
to come closer and hug me with your face on my breasts, Sweetie.  Come
show your big girlfriend that you remember what it felt like to press
your face on a full set of tits, Honey."

I did just as Mrs. Miller asked, mushing my face around between her
tits and kissing them until she reached behind her body and unfastened
her bra.  Moments later whatever was holding her ample development in
place snapped free and the softness that was only across the upper
portion of my face was matched and exceeded by a greater portion along
my mouth and chin.  Without my knowing about it, her bra met its doom
along the floor and she wrapped her arms around my head so I could feel
the sumptuous silkiness of her natural form in all its beauty.

She intentionally pulled my face between her breasts hard enough that I
was temporarily engulfed in the kind of softness that seemed welcome and
natural, in spite of how earnestly I was trying to fondle her nipples as
I pressed my mouth to one tit.  Our union was one of lust, curiosity,
intense need, absolute innocence, the yearning of a ten year old to know
more about a woman's body, and the growing hunger within a mature female
pedophile that had more to offer a young lad than just her body.

It seemed so nasty for me to sweep my face back and forth into her soft
and pliable titties, but Mrs. Miller did nothing to stop my
increasingly adventuresome activities.  The only thing I heard from her
were moans, whimpers, soft sexy whispers, and the delicate rustle of our
skin as we held each other tightly.  My adult playmate then changed the
tempo for the next part of my education.

"Scott, do you remember when you were a baby and what you did when you
needed to eat, Sugar?"

"Nnn nnn."

"I need for you to pretend to be my little baby, Angel, and do something
for me that I hunger for desperately right now."

My face was shifted to the front of her left breast and the moment I
felt the erect firmness of her nipple I instinctively knew what to do.
The instant I opened my lips, claimed her teat, and then began to suckle
she groaned quite excitedly and held my face in place around the back of
my preteen head.

"Uuhhhhhh!!!"

Whatever I did as an infant came back to me as quickly as her skirt fell
to her bedroom floor, my focus on her erect nubbin so strong and the
strong vacuum of my mouth so overwhelming that Mrs. Miller began to
shiver, then tremble, then stutter, and then gently thrash around as if
someone was kicking or hitting her from behind.  But I had only one
thing on my mind and in my mouth, her nipple the sole reason for my
being in her tight grasp and anxious to keep possession of that tender
acreage for as long as I could.

"Duh . . . duh . . . do the other one, my precious baby!"

Obeying her command I released her left nipple with a lurid <smuck> and
shifted my face to her other one, her right nipple claimed and then
sucked between my lips.  She billowed up and squeezed my head a lot
harder for a few seconds and then began to tremble and jerk around in
front of me again, my right hand placed onto her left breast and my
small fingers lightly rolling her still wet left nipple around.

"NUHHH!!!  MUUHHHHNNNNNN!!!  AAAHHHHHHH!!!  Oh, Scottie!  You . . . you
make me feel so GOOD, Angel!  Suck me hard, Honey!  Suck me hard!"

I did just as she asked and drew her aching teat as far into my mouth as
I could with an intensely hard suck.  In the process I accidentally took
a little nibble of her nubbin and got a reaction that I didn't expect.

"EeeeeeEEEEEEE!!!  YESSSS!!!  Do that AGAIN, Baby!  Bite me!"

I was afraid I was going to hurt her, but did as she ordered without
much thought, my straight and small teeth gently coming down onto the
slightly firm but very soft extension of her body that seemed to drive
her absolutely insane.

"Ooooooo!!!  Mmmmmmm!!!  Yesssss, Baby . . . unnnnggggg . . . bite me
just like . . . like . . . like that and make me feel . . . feel like a
happy mommy for the first time."

It felt so utterly normal for me to keep nibbling and lightly munching
on her nipple for almost two minutes, the undulations of her hips
growing in amplitude until she pushed forward hard and seemed to want to
press her body into mine.  With me still on the bed and my erect penis
about two feet away from her there was no way she could accomplish her
task, so she dropped one hand, found my cock without looking, and then
slowly began to masturbate me with her firm grip as her body slowly went
from rhythmic rocking to uncontrolled gyrations.  Her voice then took on
a dimension that I hadn't expected but was unable to do anything about
since she had one hand still locked around the back of my head.

"YESSS!!!  YESSS!!!  NUUUHHHHHHHH!!!  MMMMMMMMMM!!!  OOOOOOOOAAAAHHHH!!!
NEEEEEEEEE . . . BITE IT, BITE IT, BITE IT, BITE IT!!!"

The instant I locked my teeth onto her nipple and bit down almost hard
enough to take it off she screamed, pulled my face as hard as she could
into her breast, squeezed my cock with an intensity that almost made me
want to reconsider being half naked with an older widow, and she went
completely still.  Her whole body seemed to be locked up and in shock, a
slight quiver detected in her grasp of my head and dick as she began to
celebrate in one supremely heavenly cum.  I had no idea what I'd helped
to give her because I didn't know that women or even younger girls could
cum like a guy could, just without squirting.  Well . . . I'd learn
about that later too.

Moments later her whole body lunged back and forth in an involuntary
array of intensely strong lurches, as if she was trying to fold herself
in half one second and then straighten completely out the next.  My
lovely half naked older playmate kept bucking and stuttering for almost
two minutes, the grip I had on her nipple reduced slightly because of my
fear that I would hurt my new toy and make it impossible for me to be
invited for a return visit.  Mrs. Miller remained totally silent as her
body undulated and jerked around in reduced movements until eventually
she was just twitching.  The entire time she was recovering from her
orgasm I played with her left nipple and kept sucking and lightly
nibbling on her right one.  Without knowing it I was far better than any
of her previous conquests and was elevated to deity status.

"Thah . . . thah . . . that's enough, Baby!  You can play with my nipple
but just don't suck as hard for a little while.  I'll let you play with
your new toy again in a bit, but for now just give me a short break so I
can rest, okay?  You don't mind, do you, Angel?"

"<smuck>, Un uhhh!"

"Oh, my sweet precious Baby!  Here . . . scoot back on the bed so we can
lay down next to each other and cuddle, okay?"

"Kay!"

It took both of us a few moments to coordinate our arms and legs, but
after we giggled to each other and figured out where to place our hands
and bodies we were lying close and gently hugging.  As soon as I stopped
moving she shifted her body slightly so she was lying sideways next to
me, lifted her right breast a little, and then lay it onto my upper
right arm so it was hugging me as well.

"You can touch my breast and play with my nipple as much as you want to,
Baby, just please don't grip it too hard.  You really did a number on me
and I'm amazed I still have a right nipple, you little shark."

I didn't know what she meant by the 'shark' reference, but I wasn't
about to ruin a good thing, so I reached across my body with my left
hand and gently caressed and cupped her full breast.  Since my right arm
was between our bodies I couldn't do anything with my right hand except
to lightly wiggle my fingers around until I felt her panties.

"Mmmmmmm!  Young hands are always so gentle and curious fingers so soft.
You can touch me as much as you want to, Sweetie.  It feels so good I'll
let you do anything you want."

As soon as she finished speaking she shifted her body up slightly and
brought the fullness of her Mons in contact with my small right digits,
the obvious plump elegance of her baby place very close to my fingers.
I was perfectly aware of what she was granting me in spite of my naiveté
and pressed into her body just enough to feel her silken rubbery pussy
conform to my fingers.  Before I had a chance to ask any stupid or empty
questions she shifted slightly higher and pushed into my hand with her
pantied pud.  That was my invitation to tuck my fingers as far as I
could around that sweet softness and between her full thighs, her
panties slick with the same sort of sticky wetness that was in my
undershorts before.

My left hand was busy mushing her plump breast around when I found a
tight crease in her panties that seemed like a natural alignment guide
for my next direction of travel.  All it took was a few back and forth
strokes before I created a deep cleft in her panties and felt her twitch
when I rubbed against something that I had no knowledge of.

"Nnnnn!  Oh, Scott!  Have you ever touched a woman or little girl like
this before, Sweetie?  Please be honest with me 'cause lovers don't lie
to each other."

"No, Ma'am."

"Sweet Mercy!  How did you ever learn so much without being taught?  Rub
that one little spot right, MMMMMMMM!  Yeah!  Right there, Angel!"

Without any real awareness of what I was doing I stroked the tip of my
middle finger along the cleft that I had created and felt more of my
digit engulfed in the fat and cushy grip of her vulva.  But it was a
very sensitive bump along the top of that crease that made my older
playmate twitch and jerk around when I rubbed it just right.

"Have . . . have . . . have you ever touched a girl's privates, Angel?"

"No."

"Dear God!  My own true virgin!"

She hesitated for a moment, reached around my head, rolled my face
toward hers, and then began to lightly kiss me.  It felt really nice for
her to give me that kind of total immersion in stimulation and physical
pleasure, although I had no idea what I was in for yet.  After a minute
of kissing, she pulled back, smiled at me, and then whispered right into
my mouth.

"Remember when you wanted to see what the inside of my panties felt like
in my drawer, Scott?"

" uh huh "

"Push your hand inside my panties right now, Baby, and then keep rubbing
that nice little tingle spot that you're playing with right now."

" kay "

It took a little uncomfortable maneuvering but I was finally able to
wrench my hand up, my fingertips over the top edge of her waistband
panty elastic, and then down inside just enough so I knew I was touching
a girl like I never had before.  My brief hesitation must have been
interpreted as fear because Mrs. Miller pressed her lips to mine, gave
me another kiss, and then whispered more instructions.

"It's okay, Precious.  Nobody will ever know we got to play our special
game, okay?  Don't be afraid of anything 'cause I'll be gentle for the
rest of our time together.  You're just the sort of playmate that I've
been looking for and can't believe that I've finally found you.  Go
ahead, Angel.  Push your hand down inside my panties and find that nice
little tingle spot again."

It took a bit of finesse and lots of wiggling, but I was eventually able
to slip my fingers over her bald pubis and hold her in one long slow
grip that seemed to fill her up with a million party balloons worth of
helium.  She was completely smooth and glabrous just like me, something
that I wouldn't know was quite special until many months later.

During my grasp of her pussy my middle fingertip split her vulva and I
felt the steaming and oily lubrication of her arousal, that same strange
sticky wetness that I had created in my own shorts when I got horny, so
I knew Mrs. Miller was feeling just as nice as I had in the past.  But
my adventures that far between her thighs wouldn't last for long, at
least during that trip.

"Come back up just a little bit, Sugar."

Keeping my fingertip curled and tucked under toward her body I drew my
hand back and before I realized what I'd found, located nirvana.

"Ssssssss!!!  Mmmmmmmm, yes . . . right there!"

My careful and inexperienced movements seemed to bring out the fullness
of her pleasure, a light stroking movement back and forth with my middle
fingertip all that was required for her to begin to quiver again.

"Yuh . . . yuh . . . YES, Baby!  You found my muh, muh, magic spot!  Rub
very slowly and softly right, MMMMMMMM!  . . . GOD!  Yeah!  . . . Right
thuh, thuh, THERE, Baby!"

To make it a truly shared event she reached over my body with her right
hand and gripped my penis, a slow jacking movement the perfect means to
bring us closer together.  It felt wonderful to have so much tactile
stimulation all at once but I kept focus on my task and did everything I
could to make her happy.

My experience might have been growing in leaps and bounds, but there was
no real awareness of how much I was being granted so no assumptions
about my sexual prowess were made.  All I did was follow her careful
instructions, did what seemed to come naturally, and brought my older
lover closer to something that she'd been secretly craving for a very
long time.  My development had needed some improvement but with no real
desire to get into trouble by pulling another little girl's panties down
so I could learn by doing I'd kept my passions in check.  It just so
happened we found each other at the right time.

It was only by accident that I worked her prepuce up and had forced her
clitoris to pop out while I explored and played, her hips thrust hard
into my hand and side.

"Unnnnnggg!  Sweet Mercy, you're good!  Use two fingers and roll that
sensitive spot, Ssssssss!!!"

I didn't even give her a chance to finish her sentence before my index
finger was brought alongside my middle digit, her clitoris lightly
gripped along the inside of both small fingers just right, and then a
tender circular movement started.

For the next couple of minutes she couldn't say anything, her brain
useless, her body in control, and me at the helm.  Her right hand didn't
move for a little while but quickly resumed that sweet masturbation once
she realized she wasn't playing along.

Just like before her movements began subtlety and slowly, her pussy
worked back and forth against my hand and body until she began to mimic
what she needed from a small boy and what I would eventually crave more
than she did.  Her rhythmic undulations and regular rolling motions grew
in intensity until her body began to convulse involuntarily again.  For
the next minute I played with her nipple, cupped and squeezed her ample
breast, improved my kissing technique by nibbling on her lips, rolled
her clitoris around between my two major right fingers, and brought her
to a plateau that she had no prior knowledge of or resistance to.  Her
right hand changed movements as well, tugging my dick closer toward her
pantied pussy and nearer our ultimate union.

And when the moment came and she did too, her whole body froze for about
five seconds, and she twitched and jerked against my side as if she was
a fish caught in a net.  Her wild and spontaneous gyrations were so
exaggerated that I frequently lost my grasp of her nubbin but tried like
a young madman to regain it.  In my repeated attempts to keep my digits
locked around her clitoris, both of them slipped down further between
her slick cleft and ended up at the entrance to her vagina.  Instead of
doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, I stumbled into the right spot
when she had no ability to resist and found a vulnerability that would
haunt her for a long time to come.

Her back arched, she opened her thighs slightly, her hips pushed forward
and my fingers went deeper.  From as far within her subconscious as she
could find I heard her barely utter my next command.

"Help me pull my panties down, Angel."

My whole body erupted in a cascade of heat and tingling sensations.  My
older fantasy lover was asking me to help pull her panties down and I
was going to get to possibly see what a real woman looked like for the
first time in my life.

It took some doing and the unpleasant removal of my hand from her bald
and very soft pussy, but between the two of us we were able to work her
underpants from around her bum, down her sexy thighs, and then off her
stocking covered feet.  Once she was mostly naked she then kissed me
very romantically and then whispered into my mouth.

"Turn, Baby!  Turn toward me and face me."

Figuring she knew what she was doing I rolled to my right and felt her
pull my cock closer to something that I had only vague dreams about.  I
knew how babies were made, technically, but I was never informed about
the actual intricacies involved.

As soon as my penis was close enough she opened her thighs a little bit
and shoved her hips forward so she could wrap her legs around my aching
and very stiff little cock.  The first moment of contact was like every
holiday celebration of the last eight years all rolled into one glorious
moment, the intense heat of her wet pussy steaming my dick and making me
feel a kind of need that I'd never known before.  She rocked her hips a
few times, worked the end of my penis along that sweet cleft that I'd
touched and explored briefly, and she pulled my face into hers so she
could be absolutely certain I was still okay.

"Scott?  How do you feel, Angel?  Tell me."

"I . . . I . . . I feel great!"

"May I teach you about how men and women make love, Baby?  I promise
I'll be gentle and go slow so you can ask questions if you need to,
okay?  Can I do that, Sweetie?"

"Yuh, yuh, yeah!"

"Hold onto me, then, Sweetie.  I'm gonna roll over a little bit and pull
you on top of me so you can go as fast or as slow as you want to.  The
only thing I'll ask is that when I need you to, you do as I say and give
me what I've been craving for a very long time."

"Kay!"

She did as she said after I wrapped my arms around her neck, our bodies
rolled to her right until she was lying on her back.  She kept staring
into my face when she splay her thighs, reached down between us, and
then took command of my penis.  All I had to do was lift my hips a
little bit and then a second or two later felt the tip of my cock hit
the same steaming entrance that my small right digits had found a little
while before.

I became aware of a slight tremble in her face when she felt us come
together but then saw a determined expression in her eyes when she
removed her hands from between our bodies and then wrapped them around
my bare ass.  With one long slow but determined pull, she brought us
together until I was all the way inside her and our bald pubic mounds
were united tightly and our tender flesh conformed to our lover's body.

The sensation was like none other in my life but was something that I
knew I needed until I was much older and just as mature as my horny
adult lover and anxious playmate.  There was a fire along my penis that
made me ache with an intense compulsion to keep my place on her body for
as long as was physically possible, that wonderful sensation only better
when I felt her begin to rock her hips and force me to move inside.

The moment the fullness of my pleasure overtook me I closed my eyes and
grimaced and Mrs. Miller giggled at my sexual awakening.  That was the
second that I became a man, at ten.  Her whispered plea into my mouth as
she slowly rocked her hips into me and then wrapped her stocking covered
legs around my bare butt was like a screamed command that I had no
desire to resist or fight.

"Push into me and then pull out just a little bit, Angel . . . yeah,
just like that.  Oh, my sweet little man!  You're doing so well, Scott."

The increased friction of our new movements stirred a greater urgency
within me to do more, my youthful vigor brought to bear once I knew how
to improve that tickle that had no equal.  My older lover then added to
the lurid union with some verbal interplay that brought the fullness of
my deed with an older widow right into my face.

"Do you know what we're doing, Baby?  Tell me."

"We . . . we . . . we're trying to . . . to . . . to make a baby."

Her suppressed giggle sounded incredibly wicked, but I knew she wasn't
trying to demean what I had said.

"Well, yes, if you were old enough and I was young enough, what we're
doing could result in a baby in nine month's time, but that's not what I
meant, Sweetie.  Do you know what it's called when two people are doing
this lovely and incredibly special thing?"

"Uh . . . nuh, nuh, no!"

She pulled my face hard into her breasts, forced my mouth onto one of
her nipples, and rocked up into my naked hips hard.  Using a whispered
but very lewd voice she finally told me what I would come to crave each
and every day for the remainder of my adult life.

"We're fucking, Baby.  That's what it's called . . . fucking.  It feels
so wonderful, doesn't it my precious little man?"

With a face full of her ample breast and my mouth locked onto her rigid
nipple all I could do was moan.

"Mmmm . . . mmmm . . . mmmm!"

It must have been the right mix of sound, friction, heat, need, and love
because my lovely mostly nude older lover couldn't handle the strain and
began to share in my pleasure.

"Unnn . . . mmmmm . . . ooooooo . . . nuuuuhhhh!  Oh, Scott, my handsome
young lover . . . you really know how to, unnn . . . God!  Oh, Sweetie!
Come on, Baby!  Fuck me really good now and, and, and make all those
wonder . . . MMMMMM . . . wonder . . . aaaaAAAAHHHHHH . . . FUCK!"

Her tight embrace around my body, the lock she had around my ass with
her stocking covered legs, and the way she tucked her head down so she
could kiss the top of my sandy hair were all indicative of my sweet
older lover approaching yet another sweet orgasm.  When I felt her jerk
upwards into me and force me to stab my erect and steel-hard cock within
her body over and over, I knew she was nearing that same mysterious set
of muscular contractions that I'd witnessed before.

She might have expected me to slow down or stop because I was going to
join her in contented hormonal bliss, but my enthusiasm far outweighed
my desire to end that lovely bond.  For the next half hour I maintained
a rhythmic series of stabbing thrusts into her glove tight and hot
silken pussy over and over again.  Mrs. Miller was so thankful of my
youthful strength and stamina that she lay back and let me do all the
work, her only requirement to lie still and let me use her body for my
preteen pleasure.  But rather than lie flat on her back and motionless
like some dead fish, she was continually racked with cum after cum,
every dream she ever had of a young boy's cock inside her tight vagina
coming true with my enthusiastic fucking.

It was only her awareness of the world around us and the time
restriction she'd been given that made her force me up and disconnect
from her sweet pussy.  I didn't want to stop fucking her but her stern
and very commanding tone told me that no amount of pleading was going to
get me more time on the 'Miller Express'.

"SCOTT!  Enough, Baby!  Come on, Angel.  Your mother will be expecting
me to bring you home, and I've got to figure out how to make you look
like I've been spanking you, not fucking you all night."

I was just about to beg her for some more sex when I thought of an
alternative that should satisfy both of us.

"Mrs. Miller?"

"Yes, Honey?"

"Can I come back and see you again . . . maybe really soon?"

She wrapped me up in her arms, pulled my face tight to her bare breasts,
hugged me in a 'Gramma' hug for about a minute, and finally answered.

"We'll see, Angel.  I can't have you in my bedroom every day, Honey, or
people in the neighborhood will begin to say things.  Be patient, Scott.
We'll do this again really soon."

My body was eventually worked vertical and far enough away from her near
nude body, although wearing stockings, a garter, and mid-forearm gloves
might not count for much, that my feet tingled when they hit the
expensive rug in her bedroom.

After she moved us into the bathroom, washed my cock and her bald and
very pretty pussy clean as well, she moved us back into her bedroom and
saw the pitiful expression on my face.  I wasn't trying to tug at her
heartstrings, but it seemed to be the right thing to do because she
knelt in front of me, pulled my naked hips closer, and then plunged my
still throbbing dick into her mouth.  For a minute she kept bobbing back
and forth with the ferocity of a wild woman and I loved it.  Once she
was through with me she leaned back and smiled at me while she jacked my
tingling little cock in her right hand.

"Baby, you need to remember that we can't do this all the time.  I'd
like to strip my clothes off every afternoon and give you what you want,
but . . . "

Her voice dropped off, she lowered her eyes, and she probably could tell
I was going to be heartbroken.  The problem of my being sad when she
took me home was solved, but at a very high price for my sexual needs.

"I tell you what, Angel . . . HERE!"

Mrs. Miller stripped her right glove off, pushed it into my left hand,
and then returned her hand to my throbbing dick.

"I want you to take one of my gloves and play with . . . masturbate
yourself as often as you'd like with the item that brought us both
together.  This will be something for you to remember the day you became
a man . . . MY little man!"

My cock was fondled, jacked, licked, and then mouthed a few more times,
and then she did something that forever cemented my hunger for my new
toy.  She carefully took the glove back, slipped the open end over my
cock, lightly gripped her hand over the strangely sexy cloth cover, and
slowly masturbated me while looking into my face.

"My handsome little man can do this for me every night while he's in bed
all by himself.  Make this hard and very sexy little cock feel just like
this, close your eyes, and dream of us fucking in bed like we did this
evening.  That will help you feel better about not being able to climb
into my bed every hour or two, okay?"

" kay "

"That's my special lover.  You're a truly grown up man now, Scott.  Now,
come on!  We need to get dressed or we'll BOTH be in trouble."

Maybe it was her need for protection, or possibly to remove the object
of her fascination from view and consequently her access, but she chose
to dress me first.  It was only after I was standing close to her and
watching her pull a clean pair of panties out of her dresser drawer that
I cupped my right hand between her thighs from behind and lightly
stroked her nude vulva.  She immediately hissed and froze.

"Ssssss!  Oh, Scottie!  I need it too, but . . . we need to hurry!"

"Mrs. Miller?"

Still turned the other way, she answered.

"Yes, Baby?"

"Please don't put any panties on, okay?"

"Mmmmmmmm!  Dear God, you could control me, you know that?"

"Please?"

The gentle stroking of her nude and hairless vulva and my single nasty
digit tickling up into her vagina did the trick because she spread her
legs, pushed back a little bit, grabbed a bra out of the next drawer,
and then stood up.  She was going to let me touch and play with her
until she had to slip her skirt on, and I didn't mind one bit.  For the
next minute she busied herself with her bra and blouse, and only when
she was about to bend over to claim her skirt did she gently push my
hand away.

"Let me put my skirt on, Baby."

"Can I touch you after that?"

"Unnnnn!  DAMN!  You're hornier than I am . . . OKAY!"

Her skirt was installed, aligned, checked, and then promptly tugged up
by a pair of ten year old hands so I could kneel before her while facing
her plump nether lips and then touch her some more.  I never intended on
masturbating her to orgasm, but my thumb was in the perfect place over
her clitoris and my middle finger just long enough to tickle her G-spot
for her hips to undulate into the intrusion while she held onto my head.

She never said anything, but I kind of suspected she'd never walked
around in public without any panties on, and I loved the look in her
eyes when she took my hand and led me back home.  She had a flushed and
very nervous look on her face and I reveled in just how much control I
could have on such a commanding and sexy older woman.

The obligatory smack was proffered just before I turned the knob to open
my front door, a strong scowl on my face the perfect indicator that I
might not have been quite as happy in her home as I really was.  My mom
bought it hook, line, and sinker, and after I was scolded one last time
I was sent to bed.  It was only after I was in bed fondling my new
souvenir with my cock inside where her hand had been that I realized I
hadn't eaten anything since lunch.

It took almost half a week, but I was eventually able to catch Mrs.
Miller at home, the look on her face one of absolute surrender when she
saw me standing with a broad smile on my face just outside her front
door.  She let me in, she called my mother to let her know that I was
'going to be busy' at my older lover's house, and was then led upstairs
to her bedroom for three hours of near wordless sex.  She never denied
me a single request, from suckling her nipples while hammering her
pussy, to masturbating me with one of her longer gloves while I fingered
her pussy, to kissing me while I rolled her clitoris around and played
with her pussy, to just laying next to her and playing with her pussy,
and then slowly fucking her tight pussy from behind while she was lying
on her stomach and trying to take a short nap.

In short, I liked to play with and fuck her pussy as much as I could.

When the inevitable bad news came, I thought I was prepared.

"Scott . . . you need to be more careful from now on, Angel.  You can't
be seen coming over so much or people are going to say bad things about
you . . . about us, Sweetie.  I'll call you the first chance we can be
alone and have more fun, but I need to ask you to not come over again
unannounced.  Please tell me you understand."

My entire world had just fallen away and my life seemed over.  How could
that have happened and why would she treat me that way?

I was left to think about that for the next few weeks in my pitiful and
very grumpy isolation, her house no more than a couple of sidewalks away
and yet her tender body and tight pussy a million light years across the
universe.  It just wasn't fair!

It was while I was sequestered in my strange solitary prison of youth
that I saw another young boy leave her house, his smile just as wide as
mine that first evening and the front of his pants tented with the same
sort of bulge that had affected mine.  That's when I knew my older lover
had been inviting some of the other neighborhood boys into her bedroom.

My first reaction was to tear up, turn around, run to my room, and
plunge my face into the pillow on my bed for a fifteen minute cry.  The
'little man' that she'd so quickly introduced into manhood must have
looked pretty pitiful as I wailed into my pillow and hammered at the
sheets on my bed.

I tried to hide my sorrow at the dinner table that night but didn't
really do a good job.  After being pressed for the reasons for my morose
attitude I made the mistake of saying just one word.

"She . . . "

Both my mom and dad knew instantly, but their suspicions were that I'd
been jilted by a much younger neighborhood girl around my age, and not
by the very mature and incredibly sexually ravenous Mrs. Miller.  They
teased me to the point of cruelty for a while, made me smile about some
secret little girlfriend, possibly even the one next door, and made the
rest of my evening a real disaster.  It was only that secret souvenir
inside my underwear and around my cock that gave me any consolation.

After Mrs. Miller suddenly moved away without any goodbye the neighbors
asked each other lots of questions, but nobody seemed to comprehend the
reasons for such an abrupt departure.  It was while a group of us young
boys were just hanging around one Saturday that we looked at each other
with a rather suspicious glare, as if it was common knowledge that our
lives had all been affected by the same women, an older widow that was a
pedophile before anyone even knew what the word meant.

That summer quickly melded into fall and school, my newfound confidence
about sex something that seemed to be like a magnet for a few of the
older girls.  Sure, they weren't the same voluptuous and incredibly sexy
older women with their own homes and extensive posh clothes, but holding
a girl's hand that was five years older than me was a real thrill.
After all, going without fucking for six months does change a man's mind
about his access to the 'younger' girls.

It was only when I turned twelve that I finally got to have some fun in
Kelsey Masterson's very pink bedroom before her folks got home, my
knowledge of her body far more than hers.  Masturbating a sixteen year
old to an orgasm was a supreme accomplishment for a preteen, but fucking
her for an hour was like a gateway to a new world that made my months of
abstinence seem less painful.  She moaned just as loud and with just as
much enthusiasm as my older lover, Kelsey's high pitched voice stirring
a feeling of tremendous guilt because I was fucking a little girl rather
than a mature woman.

Mrs. Miller's glove was eventually relegated to a secret hiding place
in my clothes drawer, its place known only to me and its presence
returned when I needed to recall that special day when I became a man.
Playing with that single black glove always stirred me to unbelievable
orgasms, but they still weren't the same as my lovely older playmate's
body.

By the time I was fourteen, I was the hit of the high school girls, my
sandy brown hair, confident swagger, and ability to stir each and every
one of them to cum within five minutes something that gave me legendary
status among all the other junior high boys.  Becoming a one-time thrill
for my English teacher, Miss Sanderson, was fun, but she was far too
scared of losing her job for us to try it a second time.

From then on I kept my sights toward the older girls and their very
fashionable clothes, the better they looked, the more I liked them.  It
wasn't unusual for them to whisper to each other that I was strangely
fascinated by their fancy clothes, long dresses, lacy bras and panties,
and my desire to give them an orgasm while they wore pantyhose or
stockings.  If the surroundings were right and nobody saw us, I usually
had my hand up under their dresses or skirts and was busy with their
pleasure in mind.

How I never got caught or didn't father a child before I got married was
a genuine miracle.  But falling in love with an older woman who had a
little girl of her own seemed to solve my dilemma for me, Carla nine
years older than me when I met her while attending college.  The poor
young mother was struggling to make ends meet with a two year old little
girl that had never known her own daddy when we met and fell in love.
Becoming that sweet child's father before her fifth birthday seemed like
a strange but welcome graduation present for me and made that little
girl's life take on a much more normal course.

Carla eventually found out about my glove fetish and helped me along
with a whole new way to have sex after she ferreted out every wicked
detail that I was willing to share.  Fucking me silly while caressing my
face with the very same glove that Mrs. Miller had given me was a
shock, but I kind of figured she might find my hiding place eventually.
After all, it isn't every man that can find a decent hiding place in his
own home with a nosy little girl and curious mother hanging around.

In spite of the pains of my preteen youth, I had eventually become a
very well adjusted and incredibly horny married man.  Thankfully my wife
gave me everything that I needed, including another little girl and a
handsome baby boy, and my sexy older wife took on every role that I
asked her to, including one of her favorites which was to get decked out
in her best opera length gloves when we went out to dinner and then fuck
me like a whore after we got home.  She became my secret replacement for
my first-time sexual partner, and I think she understood not to ask me
many questions when I was pounding her nine year older pussy with my
hungry and insatiable younger cock.

-----------------------------------------------

Epilogue ---

I don't exactly know how Mrs. Miller found out about my penchant for
her things and eventually her, but then preteen boys aren't always known
for their maturity or worldliness.  She accepted that I had been
rummaging around in her underwear drawers, timed our union just right,
took action on her private desire for young boys, and seduced me.  For
her to use her lingerie in the artful seduction of a ten year old still
makes my heart pound in my chest and my cock throb as if every ounce of
my blood was contained within.

I became a glove fetishist after snooping around in her house, possibly
because of how elegant she always appeared or the tremendous command she
had of me when I was near her.  But Mrs. Miller did more than awaken my
hunger and lust for ladies' gloves -- she helped a young boy become a
mature and very well adjusted young man.

Even though she was possibly just looking for a young man to fill a void
in her life with no strings attached, I still fell deeply in love with
that gorgeous woman and have fantasized about her until long after I got
married and had my own children.

The fact that she knew what kind of effect she had on me was a sign of
her maturity and confidence, her soft gloved hands stroking my young
hardness something that I can still feel to this day.  It still only
takes a few moments of gentle caresses of a mature hand on my throbbing
penis for me to not only return to that wonderful time of awakening, but
to have one of the most rewarding sexual experiences a man can have
without trying to get a girl pregnant.  My wife still loves to make me
cum with a gloved hand and knows I'm fantasizing about my first lover.

I still have that one black satin glove that Mrs. Miller gave me and
bring it out every once in a while so I can slowly drag it across my
throbbing cock and remember when she did that for me, her hand soon to
follow, then her mouth, and finally the intense blistering heat of her
mature vagina.

I love you, Mrs. Miller . . . where-ever you are.

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


  
MrsMiller