Chapter 1
Joanne
Mrs. Kelly is a regular MILF; at thirty-four she stands at 5’ 9”, slim, and with an ass and a pair of double D tits that you could bounce a quarter off, long blonde wavy hair that hangs all the way down to her bubble ass, and a pair of bright crystal clear blue eyes set in a face of classical beauty with high cheekbones and full lips. There is no denying it, she is the bomb. She is also widowed and thoroughly conservative. Her dress style of choice is no doubt chosen in an attempt at downplaying her natural bodaciousness; foolish, as there is nothing that can hide those curves, at least not fully, not enough to avoid stares and advances. Still, she tries to keep her head up high and ignore the effect she has on men and women alike as best she can. She also lives across the street from me and I’ve known her since I was a kid. I guess she thinks of me as her niece, as she never forgets my birthday or to inquire how I’m doing in school. I guess that is why I should feel particularly bad about what I’m about to do as I walk up her driveway, but I don’t. Instead I feel my pussy itch with excitement and my heart beat strong and quick.
Ringing the bell, she appears within seconds, looking gorgeous as always, but putting herself to shame at the same time with a chunky sweater and a pair of baggy jeans. Instead of capitalizing on her looks, rejoicing in her femininity, she tries to hide it. What a waste of beauty.
“Oh, Joanne,” she says. “How great to see you. What’s up?” Her smile is bright and sincere, but I’m certain it won’t be there in a bit.
“Anna, there is something I want to show you,” I say and can tell she is taken aback by my use of her first name. For as long as I’ve known her, despite our familiarity, I’ve always addressed her as Mrs. Kelly. But today, things are about to change. Today, she is getting to know a whole new me and she will be exploring a whole new side of herself under my direct supervision. We are about to get very intimate and that alone warrants addressing each other on a first name basis.
“Eh, yeah, sure,” she says after recovering herself. I can tell from the frown between her perfect arched eyebrows that she is trying to figure out what is up and the only reason why she hasn’t scolded me is because of her gentle and well bred nature. Silly Anna.
The interior of her home reflects her conservative nature and is furnished with one antique after another. I guess with the money she was paid from her hubby’s life insurance, antiques are not out of reach. Taking the lead, I pass through the hallway, even admiring my cute self in the full-size mirror; only 5’4” myself, I’m plenty cute, but more in that young girl kind of way, not all curvaceous woman like Anna; dressing like a hot teen to maximize effect in skirts that are too short and tops that are too tight, not to mention my killer high heels, I draw plenty of admirers myself, but I’m still not in Anna Kelly’s league, no one I know is. The living room is all Persian rug from one end to the other, and yet more antiques. Falling back on the leather couch, knowing how she’ll hate it, I give Anna a big confident smile.
“Joanne,” she starts, readying herself to have a word with me.
“Anna, save it,” I say casually, my pussy throbbing at the thought of what I am about to do to her. If I were inclined to pity, then now would be the moment to pity the poor woman, but I don’t. My hormone levels, at an all time high at eighteen, are taking the lead and I could no more stop myself as I could stop a runaway train that is heading for a cliff. This woman is mine to do with as I please and I love it.
“Joanne,” she says again, this time in an exasperated way, her hands on her hips. No doubt she thinks this is just a teenage thing and things will be all right in a day. “What has gotten into you?”
“This,” I say, throwing the rolled up magazine at her feet. It doesn’t fall
Joanne
Mrs. Kelly is a regular MILF; at thirty-four she stands at 5’ 9”, slim, and with an ass and a pair of double D tits that you could bounce a quarter off, long blonde wavy hair that hangs all the way down to her bubble ass, and a pair of bright crystal clear blue eyes set in a face of classical beauty with high cheekbones and full lips. There is no denying it, she is the bomb. She is also widowed and thoroughly conservative. Her dress style of choice is no doubt chosen in an attempt at downplaying her natural bodaciousness; foolish, as there is nothing that can hide those curves, at least not fully, not enough to avoid stares and advances. Still, she tries to keep her head up high and ignore the effect she has on men and women alike as best she can. She also lives across the street from me and I’ve known her since I was a kid. I guess she thinks of me as her niece, as she never forgets my birthday or to inquire how I’m doing in school. I guess that is why I should feel particularly bad about what I’m about to do as I walk up her driveway, but I don’t. Instead I feel my pussy itch with excitement and my heart beat strong and quick.
Ringing the bell, she appears within seconds, looking gorgeous as always, but putting herself to shame at the same time with a chunky sweater and a pair of baggy jeans. Instead of capitalizing on her looks, rejoicing in her femininity, she tries to hide it. What a waste of beauty.
“Oh, Joanne,” she says. “How great to see you. What’s up?” Her smile is bright and sincere, but I’m certain it won’t be there in a bit.
“Anna, there is something I want to show you,” I say and can tell she is taken aback by my use of her first name. For as long as I’ve known her, despite our familiarity, I’ve always addressed her as Mrs. Kelly. But today, things are about to change. Today, she is getting to know a whole new me and she will be exploring a whole new side of herself under my direct supervision. We are about to get very intimate and that alone warrants addressing each other on a first name basis.
“Eh, yeah, sure,” she says after recovering herself. I can tell from the frown between her perfect arched eyebrows that she is trying to figure out what is up and the only reason why she hasn’t scolded me is because of her gentle and well bred nature. Silly Anna.
The interior of her home reflects her conservative nature and is furnished with one antique after another. I guess with the money she was paid from her hubby’s life insurance, antiques are not out of reach. Taking the lead, I pass through the hallway, even admiring my cute self in the full-size mirror; only 5’4” myself, I’m plenty cute, but more in that young girl kind of way, not all curvaceous woman like Anna; dressing like a hot teen to maximize effect in skirts that are too short and tops that are too tight, not to mention my killer high heels, I draw plenty of admirers myself, but I’m still not in Anna Kelly’s league, no one I know is. The living room is all Persian rug from one end to the other, and yet more antiques. Falling back on the leather couch, knowing how she’ll hate it, I give Anna a big confident smile.
“Joanne,” she starts, readying herself to have a word with me.
“Anna, save it,” I say casually, my pussy throbbing at the thought of what I am about to do to her. If I were inclined to pity, then now would be the moment to pity the poor woman, but I don’t. My hormone levels, at an all time high at eighteen, are taking the lead and I could no more stop myself as I could stop a runaway train that is heading for a cliff. This woman is mine to do with as I please and I love it.
“Joanne,” she says again, this time in an exasperated way, her hands on her hips. No doubt she thinks this is just a teenage thing and things will be all right in a day. “What has gotten into you?”
“This,” I say, throwing the rolled up magazine at her feet. It doesn’t fall
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