Green Bush Erotica Volume 6

And Giselle’s Mother

 

 

Part One

 

Of all the women I never expected to darken my door ever again Vivian would have topped the list—except for one small change in our non-relationship.

“Hello, Vivian,” I said after she rang the bell. I couldn’t said I was completely surprised to see her, I just had expected a phone call or other contact first, not her sudden appearance in front of my very eyes after twenty years of non-contact.

“Ethan,” she said very evenly. I could tell she was trying to control her emotions. What emotions were they? Anger, rage, hatred…all of those certainly. Did she despise me? Probably. Was there a hint of lust behind her gorgeous brown eyes? Probably not. She was still strikingly beautiful after all these years. I knew that of course after seeing her pictures on Facebook. Her deep brown hair was probably helped with some dye, she had a few wrinkles in the corners of her eyes, her previously ivory skin had faded a bit to pallid, and her once ruby-red lips were now a pale shadow of their former selves. But her eyes were still gorgeous. And her tits—she was wearing a V-neck top that was cut low enough to be modest yet still sexy giving me a look at her ample cleavage.

The pause between us had gotten a little long. “For what reason do I have the honor of your presence after lo these many years?” I asked her.

“You know why,” she told me. Her eyes didn’t leave my face. Either she was entranced by my completely average looks or she was seriously pissed off. Most likely the later.

I glanced at up and down my street. Living in the art district is nice, but sometimes the neighbors were a little too close for comfort. I didn’t want Vivian making a huge scene on my front step. “Why don’t you come inside and we can discuss this like adults?” I asked her.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, but stepped into my house regardless. I followed her ass into my kitchen. It was still a lovely ass, maybe slightly rounder since twenty years will do that to the female form, but still worthy of admiration.

“Stop staring at my ass,” she told me whirling around.

My eyes snapped up from her ass, pausing at her tits, and locking onto her eyes again. “How did you know?” I asked.

“I could feel it,” she said. “You always ogled me.”

“You didn’t mind it when we were dating,” I pointed out.

“That was twenty years ago and I didn’t mind it because…” she trailed off and made a face. “Never mind.”

“So what are you here for?” I asked trying to keep the conversation moving along. I knew why she had come for the impromptu visit, but I was going to make her work for my cooperation.

“You know why, Ethan.”

I smiled thinly. “Well, since that’s resolved, I’ll bid you good day and see you out.” I gestured back to the front door.

“I don’t want you dating my daughter!” she blurted out angrily.

“I wasn’t aware you had a daughter,” I said. Yes, I did know.

“Giselle Pollock,” she said. Her voice was on edge.

“Giselle?” I asked with exaggerated surprise. “I didn’t realize she was yours. You have different last names…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still Vivian Elmswood. Pollock is her father’s last name. My husband,” she said, raising her left hand and indicating the ring on her third finger. “And don’t give me the bullshit of you not knowing.”

“Well, you did dump me to fuck him,” I pointed out.

“That’s not how it happened,” she protested.

I ignored her and continued. “And then you mysteriously dropped out of college and had a baby not nine months later to the day. That’s how I remember it happening.”

“You know it’s more complicated than that,” she sighed.

“What if I do, what if I don’t?” I asked.

“Don’t be like that,” she said.

I held up my hands. “Fine. It’s over. It was twenty years ago. We moved on with our lives. You don’t want me dating your daughter. Why don’t you tell her why?”

“I’d rather not,” she admitted.

I knew I was being a dick, but I didn’t care. “Well, here’s a shocker. She flirted with me. She asked me out. She’s the one pursuing me. Maybe you need to speak to your adult daughter about the fact she’s chasing after your former boyfriend. Is it the twenty year age gap, or is it our past relationship, or it is me? Which of those is pissing you off?”

“All of them!”

“Time to talk to your daughter, Vivian.”

“The college won’t look too kindly on you fucking a student,” she all but spat at me.

“I’m not a teacher at the college. I’m not even staff. I’m just a contractor. The fact she’s a student has no bearing on the situation.” Though I worked at the college, I was technically an independent contractor—no benefits, lots of freedom. Though the college might not renew my contract, they couldn’t specifically terminate my contract for a relationship with a student. Working the counseling office I got to meet a lot of messed up students. Luckily Giselle hadn’t come in to the office looking for my or anyone’s advice.

Vivian stifled a sob and pulled back a bit. “What can I do to get you to stay away from her?” she asked.

I furrowed my brow and pretended to think. “Well, tell you what. Give me one last roll in bed with you, one good fucking, and I’ll tell her it just won’t work out.”

Now she gasped. “I’m married. You’re out of your fucking mind,” she told me.

“No, I’m not. I’m just being a dick.”

She turned on her heel and left, slamming the front door behind her. She still had a fantastic ass.

 

The next night Giselle was over at my house. We had done dinner and a bit of conversation. I had to know: was she pursuing me?

“You’re only what, eighteen years old? Do you really have a thing for older guys?”

“I’m nineteen,” she said. Giselle was nearly a perfect copy of her mother from twenty years ago. The only real difference was her long brown hair was straight while Vivian’s had been curly. They were almost the same height and had the same build. I was reliving my glory years in college. “And I like older men.”

“You’re not old enough to like older men,” I told her. “You should be chasing after college boys. Date a senior, that’s old enough for you.”

“When I was in tenth grade I was giving blowjobs to a boy who was in college,” she confided in me. “Don’t tell my mother.”

“Uh. I won’t.”

“And I don’t have a great relationship with my dad. He and Mom didn’t get married until I was five.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I like older men,” she told me again. “And you like younger girls. It’s the perfect match.”

“How do you know I like younger women?” I asked her. There was lust in her dark brown eyes and I took a step back from her.

“You’re a man, aren’t you?” she laughed, then lunged in to kiss me. I didn’t fend her off. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and I happily accepted her wanton advance. When her body pressed against mine I could feel her big tits mashing into my chest. Were they the same size as her mother’s? Bigger?

Reluctantly, I pushed her away and held her upper arms. I looked down her shirt as I did so. She wore a black lace bra that seemed to barely contain her tits. Why was I throwing this all away? I could just bed her, bang her, listen to her mother bitch and moan, then move on with my life. I wasn’t in love with either of them; I just wanted to fuck either the mother or the daughter. I knew my head was fucked up with a half-forgotten lust from twenty years previous, but how did that make me any different from any other man?

“I have a confession to make,” I began.

“Me too,” she interrupted. “I’m not a virgin either. It’s okay!” She laughed at her joke. I wasn’t sure if she was a virgin or not. I didn’t want to think about that at the moment.

“I know your mother,” I said finding more courage than I thought I had. “We go way back.”

“You know my mom?” she asked, confused.

“Yeah, Vivian Elmswood. Did she talk to you today or yesterday?”

Giselle shook her head no. “No. Why?”

I cleared my throat. “Ah. She and I…dated back in college.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me something creepy like you’re my real father?”

I nearly passed out. “No. No nothing like that.”

“Good. So what’s the problem?”

I’m still in love with your mother and would rather fuck her than you.

“Um…I dated your mother back in college. And I’m twice your age!”

“Yeah. I got all that. I still want to have sex with you.” Her face was open and eager and honest and horny. I had started this little adventure because banging a nineteen year old girl who looked like my college girlfriend sounded like a good idea. The fact that she was the daughter of my college girlfriend was disturbing. The final nail in the coffin was that she still wanted to fuck me after knowing all that.

“Um. No. While I’m not above fucking girls half my age, I have to draw a line somewhere. You’re it.”

Her face went from beautiful to pissed-off in about a half second. I swallowed and wished I hadn’t given her the ultimate rejection. “You’re rejecting me because of my mother? How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“Um. Well, sometimes circumstances get in the way of one’s desires…”

“How soon after we met did you know I was her daughter?” she asked me.

About fifteen minutes, I thought. Facebook and the internet are powerful tools in the wrong hands. But I couldn’t tell her that. “A few days. It took me a while to puzzle it out,” I lied.

“And those few days you were still flirting with me, still hoping to get into my panties?

“Yes,” I admitted. And I still do.

“How about a blowjob?” she offered.

“What?”

“Blowjob’s not sex,” she explained.

“Well, technically it is. Oral sex has the same last name a vaginal sex. Same family.”

My explanation and excuse left her nonplussed. “Do you want a blowjob or not?” she asked again.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I replied.

She grinned the same lopsided grin her mother used when she knew she was being bad—was it a genetic or learned trait?—and fell to her knees. I should have pushed her back. I should have said no. I should have stopped her from unbuckling my belt and pulling down my pants.

I didn’t.

My cock was already erect. There was no way to hide that.

“For an older guy you certainly seem ready to get laid,” Giselle said as she leaned forward and took me into her mouth. I didn’t resist. I leaned back against the wall and let her blow me.

It was heavenly. One thing Vivian never developed was a good oral sex technique. Maybe because she and I didn’t have much experience with sex before we started dating. Maybe she was just lousy at sucking cock. In this respect the daughter was the complete opposite of the mother. Giselle sucked cock like she was born for the task.

I grunted a bit as she took all of my length into her mouth and further on into her throat. I’m not hugely hung, but the show was impressive. She knew how to do everything correctly. Suck and stroke. Use the lips not the teeth. Lick aggressive with the teeth. Kiss and suck the balls firmly but gently. She even grabbed by sack with one hand and my shaft with the other as she went to town bobbing her head back and forth. She even paused and shyly looked up at me beneath half-open eyes before going back to sucking and bobbing.

Then I noticed she had slowly been undressing herself. While I had been in a fellatio coma she had unbuttoned her shirt and opened her bra from the front. Her big tits were on display. Just like her mother she had small light brown nipples. They were perfect. I flashed back to my college dorm room and Vivian straddling my body, me still clothed and her down to her white cotton panties, her boobs bobbling slightly as she awkwardly played with them displaying herself for my benefit.

“I’m gonna cum,” I mumbled down to her.

She let go of me for just a moment. “Do it,” she encouraged me, still stroking. I wanted to cum in her mouth but she had backed up a bit. When I popped off the first shot went on her cheek and nose, the second hit her chin and neck, the last three or four wound up on her tits. I stared at my spunk sliding down her skin.

“Wow,” she complimented me. “You sure came a lot for an older guy.”

“Thanks,” I muttered and pressed my back firmly against the wall, glad it was there. I was barely able to stand. The orgasm she gave me was exquisite. “Let me get you a towel to clean up,” I managed to say after a moment. She was still kneeling in front of me, my leavings on her skin, cooling slowly.

“That’s not necessary,” Giselle said and wiped up the semen on her face, chin, and neck with her hand. Then, as I watched to my amazement, she licked her fingers clean, swallowing my spunk.

“Why did you make me cum on your face when you were just going to swallow anyway?” I gaped at her.

She shrugged which made her tits shake in the most delightful manner. “Lots of guys like to cum on girls faces,” she said.

“You’ve been watching too much porn,” I told her. “They’d rather cum in your mouth.”

“Whatever.” She stood up and pulled her bra back into place, fastening the hook in front.

“You’ve got some still on your chest,” I told her.

She grinned at me. “I know.” Then Giselle rubbed the semen into her skin. She proceeded to put her shirt back on and button it up.

“Kids these days,” I commented as I pulled up my pants.

“Don’t you know it,” she replied. “I’d better get going.”

“What?”

“If you’re not going to fuck me, I hear my vibrator calling me.” And with that she was out the door.

Vibrator? It was actually good she left. There was no way I was going to be able to fuck her that night.

 

It was literally the next day when my doorbell rang again. It my part of the city it wasn’t that unusual to get late night visitors, not that nine o’clock was all that late so I thought nothing of it as I went to open the door. I shouldn’t have.

“Does the offer still stand?” Vivian asked me.

“What?”

“One last fuck and you’ll stay away from Giselle?”

“Oh. That. Well…I don’t think that’s really necessary. I wouldn’t want a married woman to give up her vows just to protect her daughter’s chastity that probably doesn’t need to be protected.”

Her deep brown eyes narrowed at me. “What are you saying? Did you fuck her yesterday?!”

Her accusation was sharp, but slightly off the mark. I fell back to a Clintonian defense. “No, I did not fuck her,” I defended myself while simultaneously hating myself for parsing the description exactly as I had chastised Giselle for the day before. “I’m just saying she’s probably not a virgin. You know, because she’s in college and she’s the one who has been chasing after me.”

“And you encouraged her. And don’t call my daughter a slut.”

I held up my hands in defense. “I’m not. She just intimated to me that perhaps she isn’t as innocent as you might believe.” I paused and turned the argument back on her. “After all, what were you doing in college when you were nineteen?”

Vivian actually had the temerity to blush at the question. She and I both knew what she was doing in college at nineteen: fucking me. “Fine. Whatever. Do you want to fuck me or not?”

I grimaced at the question. No one was around except for a few souls out walking the street who were too far away to hear. More importantly no one cared…except me. I had sort of a reputation to protect. “Why don’t we have this conversation inside?” I asked her, ushering her into my house.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said walking inside. Damned my horny self, but I couldn’t help but stare at her ass as she walked in. It was still beautiful and curvy. She was wearing a form-fitting brown dress and tights. Nothing slutty, but sexy enough to catch almost any male eye.

“I never said yes,” I told her as she walked into my living room.

“Why else would you want to ask me inside?”

Inside with better lighting it was obvious Vivian had spent some time getting ready. She had carefully applied makeup and arranged her hair. She was still beautiful and didn’t need any of that, but I appreciated the effort. Her dress was low-cut enough to show off her cleavage without being obscene. I was immediately mesmerized by her tits. I always was. She knew how to control me after all these years.

“Because I don’t discuss personal business on the street,” I managed to say without moving my eyes from her cleavage.

“Fine. We’re inside. You get to fuck me once and then you agree never to have sex with my daughter. Ever. Agreed.”

“I was kidding when I made the offer,” I said.

“I’m serious now,” Vivian clarified. I noted she leaned slightly forward, displaying her tits a little more.

“If I agree, how will you ever know if I keep my word?”

Vivian reached out and grabbed my chin. “I think somewhere deep inside you aren’t a complete dick. And I’m going to let Giselle know exactly what I did for her.”

“What? Isn’t that a little inappropriate for a mother-daughter relationship? And what about your husband.”

“Leave him out of this. I’ll decide what’s appropriate for my daughter.”

“Okay. What do I get for one last time with you?”

“Straight sex. No anal. Oral to warm me up. You get to cum once.”

“Inside you?”

“Yes.”

“Condom?”

She hesitated. “I’m on birth control. Are you clean?”

“Are you asking if I’ve been fucking every piece of co-ed pussy within reach?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes, I’m clean.”

“Good.” She seemed relieved…and oddly happy. “This way you can’t complain that you didn’t get full value.”

“I…see.”

“Excellent.” She nodded and turned her back to me. “Unzip me please,” she requested.

“Now?”

She looked over her shoulder at me and pulled her hair out of the way. “Yes. Now. Here. Well…in your bed.”

“What if I’m not ready?”

Vivian glanced down at my pants. I knew I was erect and to try and hide it now was stupid. “You’re ready,” she declared. “Don’t worry, this will be worth your while.”

I stepped forward and lowered her zipper. The dress crumpled to the floor. She was wearing a yellow and green corset and thong combo underneath. The colors were a glaring clash to go from the conservative brown to the bold green and yellow, but I didn’t care. I was staring at her half-naked ass. The green thong half-disappeared between her cheeks that were still perfect and round. The suspenders from her corset came down around her hips and attached to the dark stockings adoring her legs perfectly framing her ass. Vivian pivoted and showed me her front. The corset pushed up her already impressive chest to an incredible display of flesh. Her thong was barely enough to cover her pussy and that’s when I realized she must shave her sex bare.

“Take off your clothes,” she ordered. “I want to make sure I’m getting a good deal too.”

I stripped quickly. If anything I was in better shape than in college when I was a skinny little geek. I had managed to put on a few pounds of muscle and grow a little chest hair so I didn’t look terrible. In a flash I was down to my boxers when I hesitated. “What are you waiting for? Everything off.”

I pulled off my boxers exposing my boner. It wasn’t huge, but normal sized. It wasn’t anything Vivian hadn’t seen before. I tried to be casual about it with the tip pointing at the ceiling above her head. Maybe she wasn’t aware of it, but Vivian licked her lips.

“Where’s the bedroom?” she asked. Her voice had dropped almost an octave.

I pointed to the stairs. “Just up there.”

She kicked off her shoes and marched smartly up the steps. I eagerly followed her. Vivian’s ass was even more gorgeous when exposed by a thong and rolling up stairs. I could have grabbed her and taken her right there on the stairs, but I controlled myself.

Without difficulty she found the bedroom and was perched on the edge of the mattress when I walked in. “Stockings are a pain in the ass,” she complained as she unhooked the stays that held them to her corset and rolled the sheer material down her legs. I watched in awe. I couldn’t help but notice her wedding band and engagement ring flashing in the light as she moved. I was going to fuck a married woman, something I had never done before, and I didn’t feel the least bit of guilt about it. It wasn’t like I hadn’t fucked her before.

When the stockings were gone she stood up. “Care to help me with the panties?”

I fell to my knees in front of her. The green material barely covered up her pussy. I could see the outlines of her labia through the thin fabric. Her scent was strong and musky. Just above the edge of the thong was the faint birthmark that looked like a map of Massachusetts rotated ninety degrees. That I remembered from years ago, but it had been at the edge of her pubic hair then. All of that was gone now. I couldn’t tell if she shaved or waxed or what. I didn’t care. My hands went to her hips and I pulled the sides of her thong down.

If Vivian had put on any weight after twenty years and a pregnancy I couldn’t see it. There were a few stretch marks on her lower tummy, but I could ignore that. Her thong came down, sticking momentarily between her ass cheeks and then clinging to her pussy for a moment, adhering to her moist lips. I gently pulled and it came loose exposing her sex to me.

She elegantly stepped out of her panties and I tossed them aside. “Well?” she asked expectantly. I immediately leaned in and kissed her pussy, thrusting my tongue deep into her slit and probing for her clit. Vivian inhaled sharply and I grabbed her hips so she couldn’t move away. A few quiet moans escaped her throat and she lightly rested her hands on my head. “Ohh,” she managed to say and pulled my face tighter to her quim. I went along happily with her demand.

Then, abruptly, she pulled my head back. “I was actually expecting a kiss on my mouth,” she said.

“Pussy kisses are nice too,” I pointed out. Her cunt was dripping wet. She didn’t need any further warming up. She hadn’t needed it in the first place but she had always enjoyed a good tongue lashing.

“Why don’t we get to the main course,” she said backing up a bit and pulling the covers off my bed. She rolled onto the sheets and put her knees up into the air with her legs spread. She still wore the yellow and green corset, the straps that had held her stockings dangled around her hips. The sight was delicious and I wanted to dive in. My cock was telling me to but I wanted more.

“Take off your corset,” I told her.

“Nope. This stays on. It was a pain to put on and I’m not doing that again tonight.”

“Pull your tits out then,” I said. “I want to see them.”

“I’m offering you my pussy and you want to stare at my boobs?” she questions me.

I didn’t reply, but got on the bed next to her, pressed my body against hers, and kissed her. She responded immediately, kissing back, running her hand down my shoulder, caressing me. It was enough distraction for me to pull her corset down and simultaneously slip one hand down inside the cups to expose on breast. I was surprised by what I found.

“When did you get nipple rings?” I asked fascinated by the sight on the think gold hoops piercing her tender flesh.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. I’m not going forward until I get some answers.”

“About three years ago.”

“Why?”

“Because my husband asked me to.”

“Really? That’s kind of hot. Older women usually don’t do that. It’s mostly a young college girl thing.”

“I know,” she said. I hadn’t moved my eyes from her nipple and went into the other cup and pulled out her second breast. It too had the piercing. “Sexy.”

“Thank you,” she said primly. “Those were supposed to be for my husband only.”

“Tell him they’re beautiful and I approve.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” she said sarcastically. “Can we get on with this?”

“You aren’t enjoying yourself?” I asked dipping a finger between her legs. She was still sopping wet.

“Yes, I am,” she said softly. Vivian autonomous response was always easy. She grabbed my hand. “Take off the corset now.”

“Nope. I’m leaving it on. I’m into this now.”

I rolled on top of her, my cock pressing against her belly and the lower edge of the support garment. “Ready to fuck?”

She should have sighed and rolled her eyes, maybe letting her head loll to the side in boredom. Instead she locked eyes with me. I saw lust reflected in them. “Yes,” she said emphatically.

Slipping into her was smooth and easy. She groaned a bit as I split her pussy open, but it wasn’t a cry of complaint, it was one of delight. Her groaned changed tone and wound up as a contented sigh. “Feels good,” she mumbled mostly to herself. I was pretty sure she didn’t want me to hear that because she barely breathed out the words. I didn’t care, her pussy still felt wonderful wrapped around my cock.

“I missed this,” I said to her as I started thrusting. Her pussy was tight and wet. She arched her back a bit and clamped down on me. I could still hump her but I immediately realized what she was doing.

“I bet you did,” she hissed at me as she grabbed my face and kissed me fiercely. I wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting just a fuck, no intimacy. I knew that prostitutes rarely kissed their clients; I was expecting the same from Vivian. She was prostituting herself and I was the client. Her tongue explored my mouth and when the kiss finally broke I realized I had been holding my breath the entire time. “Don’t stop fucking me!” she ordered.

I resumed rocking my hips back and forth into her. She would raise up her pelvis to receive each of my thrusts. Her breathing became rapid and she started letting out the little cries she had always stifled in my dorm room—only now the cries weren’t little. Vivian gave herself over to full vocalization of her passion. It was apparent that she didn’t care who heard her, even if there was not a soul to listen to her singing.

“Fuck this is good,” I said, not thinking about what was coming out of my mouth.

“Yes, I am that good,” Vivian said championing her erotic skills. She grabbed my face again and looked into my eyes. “You’re going to cum soon.”

I wasn’t sure if she was making a prediction or giving me an order, but she was right. I had barely been inside her for a minute and I knew I wasn’t going to last very long. I slowed down. I wanted this fucking session to last as long as possible. I didn’t want to cum. She knew what I was doing and smacked me on the ass.

“Don’t stop!”

“I need to make you cum first,” I huffed out at her.

“No, you don’t.”

I slowed down ever further. She wasn’t going to win this battle of wills.

Instead of smacking me on the ass again she raised her legs up higher and reached between us. It only took her a second to find my ball sack. She grasped it firmly and pulled downward. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but every time I pushed into her she stretched me to the point of pain. After only three or four strokes that way I emptied my balls into her cunt.

“Oh fuck,” I whimpered. I was expecting Vivian to just lay there and take my load. I was wrong.

She all but screamed at the top of her lungs. It was an orgasm I wasn’t prepared for. As her climax slowly wore down her body shuddered underneath mine with each aftershock that coincided with every spurt of cum I shot into her.

It was a long minute before she was able to compose herself. “Sorry,” Vivian muttered, “I should have given you a little bit of a warning.”

“That was quite a show,” I commented.

“I’ve hit my sexual plateau,” she explained. “When I was with you, we always used condoms. Now…I don’t. When semen hits inside of me…well, you got to experience the results.”

I was all but nose to nose with her, looking into her eyes once again. They were still that warm, vibrant brown I always saw whenever I closed my eyes and dreamed. “It was worth every penny,” I told her.

“Uh-huh,” she answered. “Do you mind getting off me? I think we’re done.”

I was still semi-hard and was hoping to get it up again before she could call an end to the night, but that wasn’t going to happen. In resignation I pulled my cock from her pussy with a wet plopping noise and rolled to my back. Vivian didn’t even wait a second before she threw her feet to the floor and started gathering her clothes.

“You’re a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of girl now?” I asked her as she started to dress. She found her thong and quickly pulled it on, carefully placing it between her ass cheeks and covering her recently used pussy. After picking up her stockings she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled them up her shapely legs.

“For you, yes,” she answered sharply. She stood up and turned away from me. “Mind helping me get this back in place?” she asked indicating her corset.

I got out of bed and helped her tug it back into place. It was actually a pleasure to help her do that, but I didn’t tell her that. “How in the world did your husband convince you to get your nipples pieced?” I asked her. “When we were in college I had to touch them oh-so-carefully because too much sensation caused you to practically pass out.”

“You do almost anything for the person you love,” she told me as she looked me right in the eye. “He’s kinkier than I am. He asked me to do it. It was a gift I gave him.”

“Huh,” I said, a little stunned. I knew I was still in love with Vivian, but I didn’t realize how much she must have loved her husband. And I didn’t even know his name. “Did it hurt when you got it done?” I asked. She found her dress but sat back down on the bed to reattach her garters to her stockings.

“A bit. There are certain sacrifices you are willing to make when you’re in love.”

I noticed how much she said she loved her husband and how often she mentioned him. I started to have my doubts about their relationship. I also noticed she slipped the garters under her thong. I knew why: so that when she took off her dress and then her thong, she would still be wearing her corset and stockings. Apparently the nameless husband was into lingerie as well. She tried to hide what she had done when she stood up and pulled on her dress, but it was hard to miss. I didn’t say a word. “Want me to zip that?” I asked.

She nodded and turned around. It was almost a shame to see her fully dressed again. I pulled the zip up and she was presentable again except for some sexily mussed hair. She probably had a brush in the car.

“Thank you,” she said politely. Then, completely unexpectedly, she leaned in, gave me a quick kiss on the lips and walked out of the bedroom, leaving me alone and naked. After everything we had just done, the simple kiss she had given me was more erotic and filled with passion than a hundred illicit fucks we might have had. Did she still hold some secret passion for me?

 

Part Two

 

I told Giselle a hundred different ways of the next few weeks that I couldn’t continue to see her in any way. I did see her at the writing center, but that was in public and we kept our conversations on a strictly professional level. She finally resorted to sending me texts almost constantly. It was annoying to keep getting the same text every ten minutes.

Please tell me why and I’ll stop.

I hate texting for a variety of reasons. It only took me two hours to break down and finally answer her.

It’s inappropriate for us to have an ongoing relationship that isn’t professional, I finally texted back to her.

She was smarter than I gave her credit for. That was my mistake. And it was appropriate until two weeks ago? What changed?

I wanted to form a careful answer, but I chickened out. I came to my senses.

Bullshit. Tell me.

What’s more to tell? I sent back to her.

There was a long pause in before her next message. I thought I was finally free and clear. Thirty minutes later I got her next text.

It was my mother, wasn’t it? You made a deal with her.

I sighed to myself and replied. Yes. You should talk to her about it.

I knew that was stupid and immediately regretted it.

Oddly I didn’t get a reply the rest of that day or the next. Giselle didn’t come around to the writing center, I didn’t hear anything from her. I was certain everything was put to rest.

I was wrong.

It was Thursday night. Just a quiet evening alone in my home. Something to eat, something to drink, an early bed time. Sometimes it’s the simple pleasures in life that you start to appreciate more as you get older.

I wasn’t home more than ten minutes before I thought I heard something moving upstairs. I should have thought burglar or a squirrel had slipped inside the house’s attic. I was wrong again. Upstairs I opened the door to my bedroom and found a smiling Giselle reclining on my bed wearing nothing more than sheer white bra and panties.

“It took you long enough to find me,” she complained. Her smile widened. Her body was a near-perfect match for her mother’s from twenty years previous. I could see her dusky brown nipples through her bra. They hung heavy on her chest. There was an obvious triangle of dark brown curls between her legs. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. My cock started to harden.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Waiting for you,” Giselle answered calmly.

I gaped at her a moment before I could form more words. It wasn’t her body that distracted me—or so I told myself—it was her mere presence. “How did you get in my house?”

She shrugged and changed to a coy smile. “A teenage girl learns a lot about breaking and entering middle-class homes when she’s busy getting laid all around suburbia. You didn’t lock the windows on your back porch.”

“Uh-huh.” I glared at her and tried to remain angry and not lustful. It was a difficult battle. “You need to get dressed and leave.”

“No,” she replied.

“Get dressed or I’ll call the cops and have you arrested for breaking and entering,” I threatened.

She fixed me with a steely glare that I recognized as her mother’s. “Do you really want to go through all that hassle?” she asked.

I was about to ask her what proof she had that she should be in my house. Then I remembered her fantastic blowjob and my spunk winding up all over her chest—and her bra and shirt. DNA had done worse things to better people than I.

“No. How about I call your mother and tell her that you’re here?”

“I already talked to her and she told me to stay away from you. She wouldn’t tell me why. But she specifically told me I was not to let you fuck me.”

“Really,” I said glumly. “Those were her exact words?”

“No. Her exact words were: ‘He’s an old friend. Stay away from him. Don’t let him fuck you.’”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“It was a long conversation.”

“You have long conversations with your mother about your sex life?”

“Sometimes. I had a very misspent youth.”

I couldn’t pry my eyes off her tits. Every time she moved, every time she spoke, every time she breathed, they jiggled in the most enchanting fashion. “You’re still a youth,” I pointed out.

“All the more reason to ignore my mother’s orders. I’m still misspending.”

“You should still leave,” I requested.

She ignored me. “I figured out a way around Mom’s orders.”

I shouldn’t have paid any attention to her words. I fell into her trap. “What?” I asked rubbing my temples with my right hand, squeezing my forehead between thumb and middle finger.

“I just need to tie you to the bed. Then I get on top of you and fuck you. See? I’ll be the one in charge; I’ll be the one fucking. You’ll be the fuckee.”

I sighed. “You’re just participating in a mere verbal quibble,” I pointed out to her. “You’re just trying to fulfill the conditions of the agreement in order to dodge the intended meaning.”

She shrugged. “That’s more than good enough for more people. It’s good enough for me when I want to be laid.”

“I’ll be the one getting laid,” I said and immediately regretted my words. “You’ll be the one doing the laying.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 

Twenty minutes later I was bound to my bed with a variety of neckties. After too many years as a Boy Scout I could tell that Giselle didn’t really know how to tie a decent knot which worked to my advantage because I knew I could slip the bindings pretty much whenever I wanted. She was eager to see what she could do with me. And being a man rapidly approaching middle age I wasn’t all that averse to having a teenaged girl prancing around my bedroom in tiny bra and panties as she tied me to the bed. I was weak willed. I kept pushing away the thought that Giselle was the daughter of my ex-girlfriend, the woman I had fucked two weeks ago, and she was just the right age to be my daughter. To accomplish this wonderful mental feat I focused on her happily bobbling tits. It worked wonders.

“I would have expected your cock to be hard by now,” she said when she was done tying the final knot. It wasn’t very good. I didn’t complain.

“The perils of growing old,” I told her.

“Will this help?” she asked as she pulled down the shoulder straps to her bra, yanked it around her body, unhooked the garment and tossed it to the floor. Her tits bounced free. I could see the red marks that marred her body where the straps had held her too tightly. She was beautiful and my body automatically responded. Slowly, ever so slowly, my cock started to rise.

“I knew it would,” she said. “My boobs have that effect on men.”

“Uh-huh,” I agreed. They did move about in a most distracting manner as she paced the foot of my bed. “I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Oh really?” she asked as she reached out and touched my cock’s head with her forefinger. I rose even more quickly. “You’re body says it’s a great idea.”

“Aren’t you a little disturbed by the fact I recently had sex with your mother?”

She fixed me with the deadly gaze inherited from her mother. How much of her father’s DNA had come through? “When I was fifteen I was snooping in my parent’s bedroom—”

I immediately interrupted her. “Snooping is always a bad idea. You shouldn’t have done that.” I sounded like the world’s worst parent and I didn’t have any kids.

“I know,” she told me. “You wouldn’t believe what I found.”

“Probably their stash of sex toys and porn.”

“You’re very perceptive,” she complimented me. Even though Giselle wasn’t yet twenty she sometimes acted in ways that were beyond her years. That was intensely unsettling because she was so perceptive at a young age.

“Thanks.”

“You wouldn’t believe what finding those things can do to a young girl’s mind.”

“It’s no worse than walking in on your parents having sex,” I said hoping that was the right thing to say.

“No. it’s worse. Do you want to know what things they had stashed away in a nightstand with the world’s weakest latch lock?”

“No!” I blurted. “Wait. It was locked. You broke into their privacy?”

She shrugged. Her tits rolled and bounced. I was having trouble concentrating on the conversation because of her twin mounds of delight. “I only needed a paperclip to pop it open. How is