Unexpected Admirer Ch.3: The Usher

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Unexpected Admirer Ch.3: The Usher(As before, this story can be read alone, but makes more sense after chapters 1 and 2)Rachel checks her sister over, making sure that everything is in good enough order for her to head off down to the party. The hair isn’t perfect, but that by itself won’t attract too much attention after a long day. The dress is in surprisingly good shape given what they’ve just done on top of it. There are some stains, but they’re buried deep within the folds, and not easily visible. It’s not perfect, but good enough. Everyone has been drinking, their own senses will be clouded and not paying precise attention. Rachel looks into the bride’s eyes – ‘Thanks sis…’ she says with some sincerity. And with that she offers her sister a small kiss on the mouth, and then says ‘Now go…you first’. The bride smiles, slides the catch from the door and opens it. Standing in the corridor opposite the door is the page boy, one foot back against the wall, smiling and looking cocksure.He is standing there, leaning against the wall, with a bottle of half-drunk beer in his hand. He grins wickedly at the bride as she passes, either oblivious to the daggers she throws his way, or enjoying having riled the pretty bride on her big day. He calls after her and tells her to save a dance for her later, but she ignores him and descends smoothly down the stairwell, her dress gliding over the carpeted steps. The young boy stays where he is, though, eager to lay eyes on the bridesmaid that kissed him so amazingly in the nearby alcove some time earlier. At the flash of purple silk exiting the door, he gives a small but deliberate wolf whistle. ‘I think your man might have been looking for you, you know?’ He says, his eyes blinking unevenly, obviously feeling the warming effects of yet more alcohol. He smiles confidently, his kilt gently swaying between his legs as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.Rachel looks at him sternly, not disguising her annoyance at finding him here right now, whatever secret fantasies she had already nursed about him. “What did you say to him…?’ she asks carefully and deliberately.He pushes himself off the wall and steps into the middle of the hallway, placing his bottle down by the wall before he does. ‘Nothing. All I said was that I’d seen you two talking and that you had got her to help you with stuff in one of the toilets. Honest!’ He smiles and swallows back a laugh, noticing how stern her look is, even that striking him as attractive in a kind of teacherly way.Rachel looks at him and softens a bit. Her eyes drink him in. He’s a handsome young man, no question. ‘If you see him again’ she says, already playing out future scenarios in her head ‘I want you to tell him that I was being sick…Alright?’He takes a moment to register what she is telling him, a grin spreading slowly but surely across his lips. ‘Oh yes, terribly sick. Such a shame for you to get ill on your sister’s wedding..’ He pauses and looks at her more hungrily again, that familiar look in his eyes from earlier resurfacing. ‘I hope that’s what I remember to tell him, anyway.’ He winks naughtily and places his hands on his hips as he takes a couple of steps up to her. ‘I’ve been thinking about that kiss, you know…’ He says, his bravado cut through with a sincere attraction, and a sense of his genuine fixation on it.’If you do…’ Rachel says, taking a step out of the cubicle to come halfway towards him, her eyes darting right and left to make sure they aren’t being observed, ‘…maybe I’ll make it worth your while…’And she now eyes him unashamedly from top to bottom, even while alarm bells somewhere go off in the back of her head, and she wonders to herself how she can still have any remote feeling of sexual appetite that hasn’t already been exhausted by the events of the evening.The boy is listening intently to her words, convinced now that they are not a dismissal and that they could hold the key to an unforgettable experience for him, when all is said and done. He sees her taking in his form openly now, glad that he is catching the eye of so voluptuous an older woman. He lets her take it all in, slightly tensing his young legs to show off the muscle tone there.’Well, if you make it worth my while, you know I’ll keep your little secrets forever.’ he grins and winks theatrically at her, enjoying this moment where she is considering his young body as much as ensuring his silence.He rocks back and forth on his feet, the hired shoes creaking on the carpet, as he gives her one final look. ‘Room 717. Remember.’ He grins, pleased with himself as he turns and walks casually down the hallway and up the nearby stairs.Rachel watches him walk off into the distance – so cocksure, over-compensating for his own naïveté. She heads back to her room, needing to get out of this soiled dress that her sister has provided her with a convenient excuse for shedding. Safe inside, she first fixes up her hair into some semblance of order, the best that she can manage by herself. Then she once and for all discards the heavy purple dress, with it casting off the weight of the evening. It smells of sex. ‘I smell of sex’ thinks Rachel to herself. She realises she ought to get a shower, but something stops her. Instead she stands by the wardrobe, idly fingering the fabric on the three other dresses she had brought with her for the weekend and meticulously unpacked as soon as they checked in. Her mind is distracted, toying with possibilities. She should go back downstairs now, freshened up and presentable again. In fact, that’s what she must do. There are really no other options. And yet…in Room 717 there’s a boy waiting for her whose toned young body she would very much like to experience before the night is out.Rachel mulls these thoughts for a few minutes that seem like an eternity. Then she alights on her yellow dress, swaps her underwear for a sexier set from her suitcase, and slides her voluptuous form into the dress. Then she puts on some make-up – the thickest and boldest eye shadow and lipstick she has in her handbag, takes a deep breath, grabs the room card, steps out into the hallway, and as the door closes softly behind her, heads for the staircase and turns to go upstairs.Rachel walks the stairs to the boy’s room, rather than taking the lift. She uses the time and space to try to clear her mind. Is she really just about to have her third sexual encounter of the evening, none of them with her husband, on whom she had never previously before cheated? She can’t locate any explanation for her own conduct today. But she knows how it feels…and how it feels is exceptionally, life-affirmingly, good. She’s never experienced such a rush of pleasure as she has tonight, and the thought of experiencing even more with the good-looking boy instantly generates a feeling of sexual tension in her body. By the time she reaches the landing of the 7th floor, cerebral Rachel – smart Rachel, good-girl Rachel, professional Rachel, wifely Rachel, the Rachel everyone thinks they know so well – has been banished from the building. The Rachel who steps into the hallway, following the sign for Rooms 711-720, is a purely instinctual creature who knows exactly what she wants and feels no sense of conflict about it. As she steps towards room 717, she smoothes down the skirt on her lemon yellow dress, opens a couple of its front buttons, so that the black lacy fringe of her bra is now visible, and allows a slight smile to cross her lips. And then she taps lightly at the door of the room.The young lad was indeed in his room, reclining on the double bed, still in his kilt outfit, shoes on, legs crossed. He was using his smartphone to facebook stalk Rachel at this moment. He is grinning and licking his lips as he looks over various posed and candid pictures of her, some with her husband, others on her own. He traces the curve of her bust in a couple of photos with his finger, his cock stirring under the kilt and making the plaid fabric rise between his legs noticeably. His reverie is interrupted by a text from his girlfriend back home. He dismisses it quickly and tuts under his breath, returning to his voyeurism. Slowly but surely his left hand sneaks down, tentatively squeezing the bulge that is forming, conscious of how many times tonight his cock has been rising for this curvy older woman, part of him desperate just to bring up one of Rachel’s picture on his screen and to stroke himself into oblivion into the toilet or shower. Just as he decides that it might be an option, he hears the movements outside the door and the slightest of taps. He immediately perks up and spins his legs off the bed, advancing on the door.The lad clears the distance between the bed and the door in an instant, his jacket flapping about him and his kilt swinging as he makes it to the door. He has to tell himself to pause for a second and take one deep breath, just incase it isn’t her. Just incase his hopes will be dashed. He pulls the latch across and pulls the door open widely, stepping out of its way as he does. He looks youthfully dumbfounded by what he sees infront of him, the curvy body of the married woman, now changed, made up and looking refreshed. He can’t help but notice how her makeup is different, framing her face so well. He lets his gaze drop over her body in the summery lemon yellow before noticing the teasing opening at her cleavage, the barest hint of black lace peeking out from the valley. ‘Holy shit you came…’ He says, a near whisper, not exactly motioning her in, he’s too stunned for that, but standing by the open door obviously expectantlyRachel looks him over, coolly, indifferently, as if she were not at all committed to giving him even the time of day. This is not how she really feels, but she senses instinctively that the best way to pleasure herself with this young lad is to play the card of the experienced woman escort ızmir who has seen it all before and is not easily impressed. Since Rachel hasn’t by any means seen it all before, she’s well-aware that she’s putting on a front. But it gives her a frisson of excitement to play this role for a naive k** who doesn’t know any better. She feels liberated by the chance to be someone new, this unfamiliar character of the sexy older woman which she now assumes so naturally, as if she were a stage actress reading a script. ‘So…’ she says, looking at him icily ‘..I said I’d make it worth your while…but if you’re not even going to invite me in…maybe you’re not very interested after all…’ And she leans slightly against the wall around the door frame, crossing her legs in front of her, looking for all the world as if she really couldn’t give a damn either way.Her front and assumed character has the desired effect, as the boy flushes and fumbles with the door, somehow getting his cuff caught on the handle for a second. ‘Oh shit, no, that’s not it at all! Please come in… please…’ The last word is tinged with a tension in his voice. The bulge under his kilt is still there, the sight of Rachel in the flesh after perving over her pictures is doing nothing to calm it down or hide it. He allows her to sway herself into the room and watches her body move intently. He closes the door smoothly, sliding the latch across again, feeling his young heart pounding more than it has when he’s been with his girlfriend ever. They just usually engage in a bit of snogging and heavy petting, but Rachel feels different. To him, he can sense that she is in need of real satisfaction. He watches her as she looks around his room. It’s surprisingly tidy for a teen, but that’s probably because he only checked in early this morning.He walks into the room after a moment or two, standing by the end of his bed, his mind a jumble, watching her fingers tracing along his bedside unit, where his wallet, watch and phone are lying. He lets his eyes take in the curve of her hips and ass, the sight spurring his more youthfully lecherous side. ‘You look like you’re feeling alot better…’ He grins, knowing he’s teasing the older woman. ‘You look really nice…’ He adds quietly, unable to hide the inflection of genuine attraction to her in his voice.Rachel observes the room casually, enjoying the feeling of his eyes on her, being the centre of attention. She knows he is alive to every little move she makes, to the slightest inflection in her voice. His attempt at flattery is so clumsy and gauche that it’s actually charming. Rachel notices his phone on the bedside unit, and a thought occurs. She was conscious of the bulge under his kilt as soon as he opened the door. It wasn’t caused by her standing there. So she picks up the phone and sits down near the head of the bed, looking at him under hooded eyes, dismissively. As she sits down the skirt of her dress rides up to just above the knee. She allows her legs to open so that there is slightly more distance between them than there need be. Knowingly, teasingly, offering him only the slightest of hints. Then she leans back supporting herself with one hand, and smiles. Her other hand works the phone. It’s locked, so she holds it out to him with a look of annoyance on her face. ‘What were you looking at on your phone before I came in, I wonder?’ she says, almost absently. And then, more directly, addressed to the boy: ‘Unlock it. Show me.’ The tone of her voice makes clear that it’s an instruction, not a request.He watches her as she glides around the place and her hand arrives at his phone. He thinks nothing really of it until she picks it up, scrutinising the technology in her hand. He feels his mouth go dry as he sees the curvaceous body not only sit on the edge of his bed, but recline slightly, her arm tensing to support her. He notices immediately how the position stretches the fabric of the dress around her, and how tense it becomes over her bust and around her ample behind. The smooth sound of the fabric rising up her legs is also incredibly captivating to him. He feels a knot form in the pit of his stomach as she presses at the central button and is faced with the lock screen. He hears her instruction and feels his heart skip a beat, uncertain how she will respond to the inevitable revelation of his spying. He slowly approaches, taking the phone from her hand and standing before her. He draws his finger across the screen in the correct pattern and the phone sounds a click to unlock. He contemplates quickly dismissing the screen, but realises that it will probably do no good… He hands her the phone back in silence.Rachel looks at the screen, and sees a photograph of herself looking back – a smiling Rachel, long hair flowing down over her shoulders, her bust emphasised by a tight red top, broad smile on her face. She remembers where it was taken, and remembers posting it to Facebook. How could she, Rachel, at that time have any idea that it would be used to fuel the masturbatory fantasy of a young boy? Knowing what she now knows, she’s in fact not at all surprised to see it. But she feigns shock; indeed outrage. ‘That’s my personal Facebook page…what were you doing looking at that?’ she says in an accusing tone of voice. And then, seeing the look of shame and confusion that passes across his reddening face, she says more softly, eyes drifting down to his kilt, just slightly lower than her eye-line, she says more softly, questioningly, but still as if surprised: ‘Were you…were you playing with yourself…while looking at my picture?’ And Rachel secretly enjoys the huge discomfiture which the young lad seems to be experiencing at her question…reclining back still further, observing him with amused eyes. When after many seconds have passed and he hasn’t been able to muster an answer, standing there looking dumbstruck, she volunteers a suggestion: ‘No need to tell me…show me…show me what you were doing.’ And again, the tone of her voice makes clear that this is not a request so much as an order.His mind is all over the place. He is embarrassed at being caught in this situation by the object of his fantasies. Despite the reality, part of his mind still assumed that he was acting perfectly smoothly and every bit the adult admirer towards her, but there is no way that he can possibly think that now. He shuffles and fidgets on the spot, obviously trying to think of some response that won’t sound artificial or pathetic, but he is nowhere near as mentally agile as the older woman reclining on his bed. Eventually he simply nods, a slight wince crossing his young features. He starts to move his left hand, agonisingly slowly, until it is resting over the bulge in his kilt. He has moved his sporran to one side to afford himself more access. He then stretches his fingers out and makes a small show of squeezing the head of the bulge, then manipulating the thick wool around him a little more, showing hints of the outline of the stiff young cock underneath, hinting at its girth as much as its length.Rachel is enjoying being in control of the situation, far more than she could ever have imagined she would. She watches his clumsy attempt at rubbing the head of his cock through the plaid fabric of the kilt, her facial expression suggesting that she is profoundly unimpressed. ‘I’m sure that’s not how you were doing it…’ she says contemptuously. ‘If you can do it a photograph, surely you can do it for the live show…’ And with that she leans back further. Her free hand reaches up to her hair and flicks open the two clips that are now all that is pinning it in place, her emergency measures hurriedly put together in her room. It loosens and spills down over her shoulders, as in the picture. Then she reclines at a sharper angle, both hands behind her back. She allows her body to slide down on the bed, the dress riding further up her legs, which she now opens wider, showing a glimpse of her inner thigh. ‘Now SHOW me…!’ she says clearly and deliberately.He sighs with growing lust, the sight of her body splayed across his bed is something that he never thought he would see in reality. A part of his horny young mind wants to snatch the phone from Rachel’s hand and add a couple more photographs to his collection, but even he realises that that would be sealing his image as a silly boy to her. He feels like he is back in school, something he only left behind a few months ago, but the feeling is odd nevertheless. He bites his lip gently and struggles to come up with words to tell her that he was genuinely just beginning when she knocked. He decides against it though, and instead starts to grasp a handful of the kilt, hauling it up his body and leaning back a little, bending at the knees. His free hand moves to his tight sporty shorts and rubs his bulge more effectively, feeling a small bead of precum soak into the steel blue fabric. He moulds his shorts around his cock and squeezes, then rubs his fingers up the central vein, his eyes betraying the mixture of feelings, emotions and desires coursing through himRachel’s panties are beginning to flood with moisture at the sight of this toned young lad performing for her. She has to restrain herself from wanting to leap up and drag him to the floor for a quick, indecent coupling of their bodies. But she knows it isn’t consistent with the role she’s playing, decides to stay in character. She tosses the phone to one side on the bed and stands up, walking around him, so close that the hem of her dress swishes out and brushes against the hairs on his legs, her body within inches of him. And now she’s in front of him once more, this time standing up. And she says, for a third time, insistently and in the tone of one of the hated school teachers he has just left behind: ‘I won’t tell you again…I…SAID…SHOW…ME’.He is taken escort izmir aback by the fluid movement from her reclining position on his bed to the a****listic stalking around his body, feeling the thin material of her dress tickling his bare legs above the woollen socks he has on. She is so close that he can smell the scent of the makeup on her face, the powdery blush she has applied, as well as something rising that he suspects to be her natural scent. He feels himself start to sweat, both with the effort of holding his outfit in one position and the tension of Rachel stalking around him. He grunts, a half whimper, and re-gathers the heavy kilt in one arm. The hand that he was stroking and squeezing his shorts with now moves to the waistband and pulls them firmly over his growing and pulsing shaft, letting the elastic settle under his balls, the shorts stretched to an extreme between his toned young thighs. He grasps his cock firmly at the base and strokes its length once, then again, aware of her penetrating gaze. His position looks highly awkward and difficult to hold, but his young body does so admirably’Hmmm…’ Rachel says ‘…not bad’. The thought, uncensored, escapes her lips before she can stop it. She wasn’t planning to let him know just how much she admires the sight of him, holding up the kilt above his toned, tensed legs. the muscles visibly working, and the beautifully proportioned cock – not the largest she has ever seen, but fine and smooth – being worked by his hand. She comes close to him on one side, watching him pleasuring himself at right angles to her. So close he can smell a deep musky scent clearly now. So close as to whisper into his ear. ‘Don’t stop…but tell me…what were you thinking of when you were doing it before…”Ahhh…’ He exhales a long, shaking breath as he hears her compelling him to imagine his fantasies involving her again. She is so close that her hair is tickling his neck and jaw now, her breath hot and moist on his ear. The combination of this plus the musky scent, richer than anything he can claim to have encountered before, filling his nostrils makes his grip on his cock tighten as he gives a couple of more abandoned tugs, grunting at the extremity of each stroke. He tilts his head to look at her and then looks ahead of himself again, the voice rumbling in his throat before he can manage the reply. ‘I was imagining your posh mouth on me…’ he blurts, his youth evident in his labelling of Rachel in such a manner. He is not done though… ‘Then… maybe I imagined… you using your… tits.. on me.’ If he was thinking straight, he probably wouldn’t have been so crass infront of Rachel, but his mind is extremely addled now. ‘And then… fuck… I imagined you ontop of me. So I could feel you up…’ He shares the final thought in his trilogy of fantasies and then groans again, a mixture of excitement, embarrassment and desire.Rachel brings her right hand up to his face, just below his nose. ‘Do you know what that smell is?’ she says. But he’s never smelt anything like it, and anyway is scared that he doesn’t know the words for things like that, that he’s going to sound like a foolish k** if he says something stupid. So she watches as he just shakes his head mutely. “That…’ she takes her time with the words, leaning in to whisper so quietly in his ear that it’s an effort to hear him, the fabric of her dress now lightly brushing his arm, the substance beneath it the soft fullness of her breasts…’That…is the smell of my sister…’ She watches his eyes open wide, like a startled deer. ‘We just made each other cum…’. His mouth literally falls open, so that gapes like an idiot, too many thoughts rushing through his mind, but he never stops stroking his cock. ‘No-one will ever believe you if you tell…’ she carries on ‘…and besides, if you do, you’ll never get to have us both together, and this will never happen again’. And with that, in a movement so swift and seamless it feels even to Rachel like the work of another woman, a professional, she is on her knees in front of him, prizing away his hands from his cock, taking the shaft in her mouth, expertly working it up and down until the head of it is somewhere pressing against the inside of her throat. By delivering herself of the revelation, telling this boy, almost a stranger, of the most intimate and dangerous thing she has ever done in her life, Rachel has somehow worked herself up into a sexual frenzy. She wants his body, and she’s going to enjoy it. All of it. In all of her.His mouth moves from the dumbfounded gape of her revelation to the almost pained expression caused by his gritting his teeth, his breath hissing out from between them. He feels her lips make contact with him and is stunned by the ferocity with which her mouth take his whole length after such a short space of time. He’s never yet managed to convince his girlfriend to do more than the most cursory of sucks, and so this is beyond pleasurable for him, it makes his whole body feel on fire as her nose bobs against his wispy pubic hairs. in the shock of the assault, he lets go of the kilt, but quickly regains it,clearing it from her head and watching disbelievingly. His moan, when it eventually escapes his throat, is a strangled cry of pure enjoyment. His hands are trembling, but he manages to get one around his body to unharness the sporran from him, letting it clatter to the floor next to them, his ears filling with the moist sounds of suction, feeling Rachel’s saliva coating him, noticing how the thick lipstick sometimes leaves rings of colour around him, a sight that he has only seen before now in porn, and that makes him twitch inside her mouthRachel sucks him vigorously, greedily. ‘The second cock I’ve had in my mouth tonight’ she thinks. But she has no intention of letting the boy explode inside her throat now, when she has so much further need of him, and she makes no assumptions about his ability to restrain herself. She disengages from the shocked boy after no more than a minute, sits up on the bed, his sharply protruding member at chest height in front of her, and pushes out her breasts in front of her. ‘So…’ she says, wiping her hand across her mouth to brush away some saliva, in the process inadvertently smearing her thick lipstick across her face ‘…that was my posh mouth’, emphasising the word, mocking him. ‘Now what was it about my tits…?’ And she offers forward her chest to him, but without undoing any more of the buttons on her dress, wanting to see what he does next.As she disengages from his young stiff cock, he gasps, feeling the suction trail up his shaft and over the sensitive head with the faintest string of saliva binding them together before breaking. He is panting, holding his kilt up still, his calves straining with the effort of his position. He watches as she brushes the back of her hand across her mouth in such a ravenous way, his cock twitching in the air between them as she speaks to him and goads him by throwing his clumsily chosen words back at him. The effect is not one of rebuke, though, he finds something intensely arousing in it. At the offer of her breasts, he licks his lips instinctively, dropping the kilt back down over his now protruding member. He throws the jacket off his shoulders and then tears at the straps holding his kilt up. He lets the heavy garment drop to the floor in a pile with a dull thud. He is looking at her breasts now as he pulls his shirt off frantically, and kicks his tight shorts down off his legs. He stands before her now in nothing except the woollen socks and dress shoes. He takes a step in towards her and then grabs at the buttons of her dress powerfully. He doesn’t mean to try to control the situation, it’s just another clumsy move by a teen fighting to remain something resembling calm. he shakily undoes the buttons one by one, a deep groan under his breath as he sees the intricate lace covering Rachel’s soft pale globes. ‘I… I need the bra off.’ He says quietly, pulling the undone top of the dress open as far as the pattern will allow.Rachel observes him with a rising feeling of intense lust as he removes most of his clothes, exposing his fine physique. It’s as much as she can do to retain her sang froid, her facade of control and experience, as he reveals himself to her – the body perfectly and naturally toned, in the way a young man’s can so effortlessly be; his stomach muscles so tight and tense, just the faintest growth of hair on his chest, the legs muscular and powerful like a rugby player’s. He is as she had imagined him to be. This is the reason she has desired him since she first laid eyes on him in the corridor. The sight and sound of his clothes dropping to the floor has an electrifying effect on her, and it requires all her self-control to remain passive as he fumbles the opening of her dress. She suddenly wants him to rip it open with his hands, sees in her mind’s eye the buttons sent s**ttering across the carpet. Now the dominant role she has chosen for herself comes into conflict with her real desire, which is to be taken by this lad and feel the full heat of his pent up desire, which she has so inflamed by the mention of her sister. But still Rachel retains her poise, leaning backwards, resting the weight of her body on her hands, occasionally flicking her head to toss her hair from her shoulders as he clumsily fingers his way to revealing her lacy black bra. And when he gets as far as he can and stammeringly lets her know that he needs her bra to be off, Rachel doesn’t step out of character for a moment. ‘Well…’ she says, icily, almost casually ‘then you’d better get it off’.He pauses for a moment, sensing the slightest of gasps as he tugs firmly at Rachel’s dress. He is becoming increasingly conflicted, not wanting to appear the hopeless, clumsy boy infront of this confident sexual creature once again on his bed, but not wanting to overwhelm her with some aggressive teenage rutting. He picks up his pace in undoing the buttons of her dress, until it is hanging loosely from her sides, displaying her pale belly and the lacy accompaniments to the bra, panties on and the holdups from earlier still encasing her legs. He hisses in pleasure, his cock twitching and moving of its own will in the space between them. ‘Yes… I suppose I ‘d better…’ He groans, barely controlling his lust. He pushes his hands into the folds of the dress and finds the catch. He is not skilled, it takes him far longer than it should, as he roughly tugs and presses his hands against the catch. Finally it gives, though, and he feels it loosen from her body. He reaches for the stiff wiring between her breasts and pulls roughly, the shoulder straps pulling with the dress and bringing both down her arms. Upon seeing her exposed chest, he emits a low noise, halfway between a grunt and a snarl, his hunger clear… His young hands reach out tentatively, scooping the sides of her chest into his palms, one on each side. He stands there in silence, looking down at her impressive breasts in his hands, judging their weight, feeling the heat coursing from her skin to his. His hands then begin to massage her. He is not skilled, nor as immediately dextrous with his thumbs as her uncle was a while earlier, but there is no denying his enjoyment of the situation. He is practically drooling as he loses himself in the moment, only concentrating on the way that her flesh moulds to his hands’ movements.Rachel leans forward and takes his still-erect member into her hands, guiding it forward until it reaches the soft protruding mass of her chest. For a moment, she rests the head of his cock against her cleavage, looks up at him with a complicit grin, and then slides it in between her breasts, her saliva on his shaft lubricating its passage. And now she starts to rock forward and backwards rhythmically on the bed, her hands move over her young admirer’s, helping him to squeeze her breasts tight together as the lad’s cock slides in between them, creating a tightness of space that she knows will give him the sensation that he’s fucking her. And she tosses her head back, hair swishing across her shoulders, and makes no effort to disguise a groan. “Oh that feels so good”.He sighs, his voice quavering and shaking through the lust fuelled haze that is overcoming him. He feels the initial glide of his shaft into the deep, warm, porcelain white valley between Rachel’s breasts. He lets her dictate the rhythm for a while, feeling her flesh moulding around his cock more and more, her hands creating a delicious feeling of pressure all around him. He reluctantly removes his hands from her breasts, but only so that he can slowly explore her face, throat and shoulders, gripping them tightly for a moment as he looks down at one of his fantasies unfolding. His strong young legs tense and flex, up onto his toes, causing more of his shaft to disappear between Rachel’s magnificent globes. He grunts and lick his lips, moving his hands to over hers now, squeezing her chest firmly and awkwardly, bucking his hips against her now, seeing his glistening cockhead appearing at the top of her chest, the smear of saliva and copious precum staining her smooth pale skin… His young hands press harder, his eyes widening as he keeps thrusting against her. His young palms are warm and clammy, her wedding rings digging into one of them as he holds her delicate hands in place. He thrusts yet harder, looking down into her eyes, then at the point where his cock emerges from between her breasts. ‘Fuck… Fuck… Fuck…’ He grunts with each thrust… A sheen of sweat begins to appear on Rachel’s brow. The effort of holding herself upright to allow this young lad to rut at her bosom is tiring as well as intensely arousing. She feels the all too familiar feeling of moisture building between her legs. Her previous activities may have left her feeling slightly tender, but there is no mistaking the carnal urges that this current attention is triggering in her. She can feel his smooth shaft hardening further against her skin, knows that he will likely not be able to last much longer with his increasingly frantic thrusting. She eventually spreads her hands and pushes his away from her, causing him to stand back a step. The pair stay locked in position for what feels like an eternity: Rachel gazing up at her latest lover, noticing the flushed look in his face, the way he is breathing hard, the twitching and leaking of his now angry looking cock… He sees his fantasies about this older woman come to life, sitting on his hotel bed, her dress half off, bra discarded, her womanly tits his possession. It is Rachel who breaks this intense silence by standing up, cupping his face in one of her hands, noticing how smooth his chin and jaw is, compared to her uncle’s… she leans in for a kiss that is tender, almost maternal, then quietly whispers “Lie down…” The usher is powerless to question her, any thoughts of asserting himself over her are sucked out of him with her gentle kiss. He turns and lies back, his legs hanging over the bed edge as he sees her drop the remainder of her dress, a pair of intricate black lace panties too. She stands before him with only her heels on, curling hair behind both her ears before stepping forward, raising one leg to kneel on the bed, her glistening slit, with its neatly trimmed hair hovering over him, both feeling the heat radiating from each other. Rachel’s recent transgressions mean that there is slightly less resistance as she descends directly onto his throbbing cock. Her descent is smooth and fluid, like a key in a lock, until she is resting her weight fully ontop of him, her hands on his young chest, her fingers spread, her wedding band glittering in the light. The sound he makes as she lowers herself down onto him is one that he has never made before, as his hands shoot to either side, clutching handfuls of bedsheets in an attempt to stave off a premature orgasm. He has never felt someone so moist, so welcoming, so molten hot as Rachel is now. He feels her mound rest firmly against him, feels his cock driving deep into her feminine folds. He lies still, looking up at her, the pair just breathing heavily, waiting for the inevitable to happen. It is Rachel that finally breaks the stalemate, taking a deep breath in as a wave of realisation about her third infidelity of the night washes over her. She tightens her grip on his chest and begins to rock her hips, very gently at first, but gathering pace and momentum as his young cock rubs delectably at her sensitive spot… She makes a point of angling her arms inward to exaggerate her already sizeable bust, giving herself a deep cleavage as she bites her lip, looking down at him. This is different for her than before. With her uncle earlier, and the bride afterwards, the conversation and the chase was central. Here, she can see that she has her young lover entirely in her thrall, and she knows that he won’t be any kind of conversationalist as he feels the thrill of her gliding up and down his now painfully hard member. His face is a mask of concentration as he battles with his own primal urges. Rachel feels herself using him as if a sex toy, using his stiffness entirely for her own pleasure, beginning to rock and gyrate ontop of him, each stimulation of her sensitive nub eliciting whimpers and groans. She knows he simply won’t be able to last long like this… Underneath her, the lad is barely able to think straight. His knuckles are white as he grasps at the sheets, looking up at the curvacious vision bouncing and grinding on his cock with increasing abandon. His legs tense and kick out involuntarily afew times as she rolls herself over him at a particular angle. If he was thinking straight, he’d be worried that no sexual experience in his later life would compare to this illicit fucking, but at that moment he is fixed on the way Rachel’s hair falls around her face as she moves, the way her tits bounce and slap together when she gives them room to, and the feeling of the moist suction between her legs, the way she makes his cockhead punch deeply into her… He knows he doesn’t have long, and so decides that he must touch her during this. His hands tremble and rise to her chest, clumsily mashing her soft, warm breasts together, making his older lover coo from above. He can feel her leaking, sensing she is close to something herself… With all his remaining senses, he reaches down and clasps a hand onto either cheek of her thick round arse. He pulls her up towards him and then lets her drop back down, suddenly dictating the rhythm. He lets out a self-satisfied grunt as he begins to rock Rachel faster and faster, loving the way her pale white flesh moulds between his fingers. He begins to gasp and pant, feeling his blood rising, the cum practically boiling in his sack. It’s nothing loud or explosive that claims him in the end. It’s the sight of Rachel screwing her eyes shut and the feeling of her nails dig into his chest. Her face contorts as something powerful wracks her, despite her efforts to keep calm and in control. The sight of her losing it, the knowledge that the older woman has been made to cum by his hands and cock is simply too much. He throws his head back onto the bed, thrashing from side to side as one long cry escapes his lips, all that young pent up cum surging out of him and into Rachel’s waiting slit, leaking out between them owing to the sheer force of it all… He flops his arms back onto the bed beside him as Rachel collapses ontop of him, her body over his, not moving until his cock finally calms and slips from her with a wet pop. He goes to say something to her, but Rachel simply places her finger to his lips and reminds him “our secret”… He is dazed and only half conscious as she slips from the bed and hastily dresses in her summer dress, straightening her hair before sneaking out of his room and back into the hotel lobby…

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