As the haze of sleep lifts, I realize I'm not alone in my bed. There's Mrs. Jones, her soft curves pressing against me, our limbs entangled beneath the cozy blanket.
The faint scent of her perfume lingers in the air, and a rush of excitement spreads through my body as I remember the events of last night. My brain is filled with tantalizing images of Mrs. Jones' naked body, her velvety lips, and her expert tongue, seducing me to a mind-blowing climax. It was a sensation I had never imagined possible, especially given my limited sexual experience, having only been intimate with my ex-boyfriend, Ben, three times. I'm so glad my parents suggested she babysit me, even though I am eighteen and considered an adult by most standards.
My eyes flutter open to meet Mrs. Jones' gaze, a smile playing on her lips as she whispers, "Good morning, sweety."
The morning sun slips in through the drapes, casting a cozy, warm glow over the room and lighting up Mrs. Jones' face, making her appear even hotter. I never expected to feel this attracted to a woman, let alone one who is over thirty years older than me.
"You slept like a little angel in my arms," Mrs. Jones whispers, brushing a strand of blond hair away from my face, and I hold my breath as her fingers linger on my cheek. "You're such a pretty girl."
My cheeks flush with a rosy hue, the heat rising to my face. Mrs. Jones' touch lingers, leaving me feeling both flustered and strangely exhilarated. I find myself hoping, even wishing, she'd just lean in and kiss me already.
As she moves from lying on her back to facing me in bed, her fiery red hair dances like flames in the sunrays, cascading down her shoulders in vibrant waves as she settles onto her side. Propping her head up with her elbow, her emerald eyes meet mine, instantly captivating me and holding me captive in her bewitching stare.
As her lips part slightly, and a wave of heat zips through me, my lips quivering with the desire to kiss her. She smiles coyly, her lips forming a seductive curve that sends butterflies swarming through my stomach.
"Did you enjoy yourself last night, honey?" Mrs. Jones coos.
A spontaneous smile breaks across my face in response, sparks of desire spreading through me at the memory. "Yes. It felt good," I admit. The simplicity of my response belies the fact that it was the best orgasm I'd ever had.
Mrs. Jones arches an eyebrow. "Just good?"
A nervous chuckle escapes me as the warmth of embarrassment blooms from my neck, swiftly coloring my face. "Okay, okay—it was amazing," I admit, feeling my cheeks turn a deeper shade of scarlet.
Mrs. Jones' laughter, soft and lilting, fills the quiet room. Her eyes sparkle with playfulness as they meet mine, promising secrets and shared pleasures. She bites her lip, a playful but tempting motion, as she gently pulls the blanket down, revealing my bare chest. My petite but perky breasts may not match up to her ample chest, but they still capture her attention.
"You've been missing out, haven't you, sweety?" Her fingertips playfully trace a gentle path under my clavicula, slowly inching lower towards my left rose-tipped nipple. "Don't worry, I'll show you all the pleasures of being with a woman." Mrs. Jones leans in closer, her warm breath brushing against my ear as she whispers, "You're going to love it."
Her delicate fingers dance in slow circles over my hardened peak, igniting a wildfire of desire between my legs. A soft moan escapes my lips as she twists and tugs on my sensitive tip, causing my clit to tingle with need, and I feel myself getting wet.
"I can still taste you. The sweet tang of your arousal lingers," Mrs. Jones says, and I feel my cheeks burn. I wish I could look away from her intense gaze, but the hunger in her eyes has me transfixed. "You were practically dripping for me," she breathes as she leans in, her lips hovering just inches away. "Why don't you show my pussy some love too?" she whispers, her breath warm against my aching lips.
Hearing a mature woman in her fifties, whom I had assumed to be just another typical boring housewife, utter the word "pussy," adds an extra layer of naughtiness to the word. The idea of tasting a woman for the very first time suddenly seems incredibly tempting, especially when it's someone like Mrs. Jones, and I can't help but nod with giddy anticipation.
"Good girl," Mrs. Jones purrs as she draws the blanket aside, revealing her curvy naked figure as she settles back on the pillow.
As I gaze at Mrs. Jones lying on her back with her thick legs spread wide open, my sight is drawn to the silkiness of her bare mound, which looks so soft and delicate. Could she have gotten rid of her pubic hair with a laser? Maybe to keep any hidden strands of gray from showing? It makes no difference; I am absolutely fascinated by her petal-smooth center.
My pulse quickens as I ease between her supple thighs, fixating on the wetness pooling between them. I can't help but hesitate, but the thrill of exploring uncharted territory with her outweighs any reservations I might have.
"Don't be shy, sweety," Mrs. Jones encourages with a warm smile.
With a deep breath, I lean closer, the musky scent of her arousal filling my nostrils. A milky white, creamy substance drips slowly from her opening, and I can't tell if it's the remains of the coach's cum or the essence of her own desire. The thought of tasting the fusion of their combined pleasures excites me beyond belief, and I can feel myself becoming increasingly eager to dive in and gulp up every drop.
But I don't know where to start or how to satisfy her. Her inner lips are hidden coyly within her plush outer folds, whereas mine are unashamedly prominent and protruding. Will I even find her clitoris? Let alone make her cum? My cheeks turn a bright crimson as I place my trembling hands on her soft upper thighs.
"Is something wrong, honey?" Her expression softens with concern as she looks at me.
"I… I just want to make you feel good," I stammer. "But I'm not sure how."
Mrs. Jones beams a charming smile and reaches out to take my hand. "Don't worry, sweety," she purrs, guiding my hand towards her inner thigh. "Let me show you…"
She leads my fingers to the small flap of skin at the point where the inner lips meet. "Here. Feel for the soft, spongy bean."
My fingers delicately explore, relishing in the slickness and heat of her velvet folds.
"Mmm, this is the spot," she moans. "Give it a soft, circular caress."
My fingertips dance in slow circles, eliciting soft moans and gasps from her lips. When I feel her button swell and pulse under my touch, it sends a blaze of desire straight to my core—the most electrifying and arousing sensation I've ever felt.
"Mmm, yes, just like that, sweety." Her soft breaths turn into ragged gasps as I add a little pressure. "Oh, yes," she breathes.
Her eyes are glazed over with desire, fixed on me. "You're such a good girl," she murmurs, sensually licking her lips before whispering in a low voice, "Now lick it ."
My heart feels like it's going to burst as I lean down, my tongue darting out to follow her instructions. Softly, I flick against the engorged bud, feeling Mrs. Jones shudder beneath me. With each gentle stroke, she arches into me, releasing a soft sigh of pleasure as her fingers tangle in my hair.