by Primula Bond
That first time we were short of time. Since then they’ve learned to set their alarms, because I’m horniest first thing. Fuck me before This Morning.
I approached with caution, in case he jumped up and ran away.
I slung my leg over his straight thighs, brushing his cock as I did so. It quivered, then was upright again and still. I caught it in the folds of my pussy. I held myself above him and then had the nerve to look him in the eye. He blinked just once. I looked at those big, thick lips, and my pussy softened, knowing exactly what it wanted.
I crawled up his stomach and chest, letting his cock bounce away from me, and hovered for a moment over Kyo’s calm face.
‘Lick my cunt, Kyo.’
I didn’t mean to hiss at him all roughly like that, but I was having trouble breathing. He was laid out beneath me, taut and ready and in my power. But I could tell he was happy. His cheekbones lifted, stretching his face into a smile-free beam, and his black eyes glowed.
We were alone in my little house, hemmed in by the shadowy buildings. Neighbours often flickered at their windows, sometimes pausing to gaze into my back yard. I wanted them to see me. Next time I would push the bed closer to the light.
Kyo nodded sharply once, and opened his mouth obediently. There was his tongue, long, thick and quivering out between his strong white teeth. Those thick lips were soft and pillowy like a woman’s. They closed round my pussy, sucking my hot sex whole into his warm wet mouth and holding it there as if his face was an exotic fish pulling us both down to the bottom of the ocean.
He was doing something amazing with his mouth. He was massaging my swelling, pulsing sex inside it, and as his lips squeezed and nibbled and sucked, his tongue roamed up between the lips, insinuating itself up the tight wet crack and sliding inside, probing through, tasting the next layer before circling my clit.
Christ, forget deep-sea fish. It was like he had a forked tongue, flicking every which way, like a snake.
I moaned and juddered violently as he tapped and flicked and then licked my clit. His white-gloved paws fluttered round and landed on my buttocks. I gasped again. His hands were small and soft, but I guessed they were powerful, used to quelling animals, people, food, machines, and I liked that. Maybe back home he was a ninja. Maybe he could break trees, or opponents’ necks, with just one snap.
Somewhere outside a sash window scraped up. I heard my neighbour’s bracelets chink as she watered her flower box.
My silent warrior was holding me completely still on my bed. I watched him sucking me. I was totally mesmerised. His hands manipulated my bottom as he sucked at my cunt, pressing my butt cheeks very lightly as if he was testing it for reactions, but it felt more like a warning not to move. Hell, I wasn’t going anywhere. I was frozen above his face, my head tipped back in a kind of melting ecstasy, my own tongue flickering obscenely like a porn star as he worked at my pussy. The more I challenged myself to stay absolutely still, the more intensely every flickering sensation was heightened. Spot-lit in the cold silent morning.
My stomach started to coil and tighten with excitement, but I roused myself before the climax got going. I didn’t want to come just yet. I wanted to feel that small white prick inside me. See what it was made of.
His suction on my pussy was so strong but I pulled away gently, and very reluctantly.
‘Fuck me now, Kyo,’ I breathed, and the order was soft this time, not harsh at all.
His mouth released me with a delicious wet sound, my sex lips flipping against his lips as he spat me out. As I slid back down his chest, letting my pussy slide wetly across his white skin, he licked my juices off his lips then closed them quietly, as if he’d just finished speaking.
His hands came away from my bottom and I placed them like two white flowers on my breasts, jutting out of my corset. He rotated them slightly over the material, and my nipples pricked up hard with desire. I wanted to feel that big purple mouth sucking on them. I pulled one breast out, and fed it to him. I’d meant to keep that treat until later, another day maybe when we had more time, but I couldn’t help it, his mouth was a huge hot wet pleasure zone all of its own, and yes his lips closed round my breasts taking in the sharpened nipple and the sparking flesh around it and he sucked it in like a lovely wet powerful Hoover and I felt the nipple scrape on the roof of his mouth, and so did he, because then he bit it, and it hurt, and I screeched with delight, and crushed his face into me, scrabbling to get the other breast out, holding it, heavy and warm, in my hand as I pressed it against his wide cheek, rubbed the nipple against his mouth until he turned his head and started to nibble on that one, too.
As I arched my back to push my breasts into his face I caught the flash of a white curtain outside and my neighbour’s watching face, her hand still holding a little silver watering can, the petals of her red flowers dotted with droplets. Her window is to the side of my yard. She was staring into my lodger’s bedroom, saw me suckling him, stuffing my nipples into his mouth while my hand reached round behind me, under my bottom which was just sitting over his thicket of straight black hair, and I took hold of his smooth white cock, guided it to slide between my buttocks, thought the shadowy dampness there might really shock him, got even hornier at the idea of making him do something really dirty like fuck me up the arse and not letting him show it.
But there was all the time in the world to introduce his cock to my arse. So instead I rubbed it across my hidden clit, wet and singing from where his tongue had been.
I nearly came there and then at the touch. I was so worked up now.
I moaned and writhed, rubbing his cock again and again across my pussy, feeling it bump against my clit, my own special toy, keeping it as delicate and slow as I could, while his face disappeared between my breasts, his small hands roaming over them because they couldn’t manage a whole handful, caressing them with those soft white gloves, how sexy was that, clinical but sexy, while those thick lips kissed and sucked.
And then I leaned over him, on my hands, watched my breasts dangle heavily over his face, his black eyes fixed on them and I wriggled down on to his cock, felt it lock into me and jut up inside, so weird and new the way it didn’t grind and pump and fill me like a big one would but rather introduced itself, explored me as it slipped inside, eased up far enough to have my cunt close greedily round it, and then waited.
Here was that stillness again. I floated there, his cock resting inside me, plugging me tight. Yes, that’s it. It wasn’t much longer than, sorry to say it, perhaps a large gherkin, I suppose, but I’m here to tell you that anything can give you crazy pleasure if it’s the right shape, touching the right places in the right way. So he was plugging me, closing me in, not going anywhere. Yes, owning me. And he was all mine. I could hover there, squeeze him tight inside, until I was ready to move. He didn’t move, pump, jerk, didn’t thrust, didn’t fuck me in the usual manly way, just waited, locked in there, lying beneath me, my white mannequin, my sex toy, but before I moved a muscle his cock started, not to pulsate, not even to throb, but to vibrate, God this was something else. It was just like that. Vibrating inside me. Slight, tiny, imperceptible, shivering pulses, but steady enough and strong. Growing stronger, like a light burning brighter. Like, well, like the best, newest, shiniest Rampant Rabbit you can imagine.
And so it took a while. He missed school, I’m afraid. Because this incredible vibrating penis increased the pressure so slowly, and so slightly, and my body tightened round his cock so slightly in answer, that we inched in sensuous slow motion towards our climax, as his mouth sucked on my nipples, because I wouldn’t allow it to end, and it got more and more delicious, and I knew for sure now that my neighbour was watching, and I wondered if she was touching herself as she watched, because all she could see was my head tipped backwards, my breasts smothering a small white man with a small white cock, but from her angle she would also have seen that as our bodies started to melt together he let one of his hands drift gently behind me and as I was starting to go f
aint with ecstasy he inched his gloved finger in between my buttocks and jabbed up into my little arse hole, which opened softly to let him in, and as his finger started fucking me, hard, up the bottom, we twitched into life and rocked together, very quickly, lightly, whitely, tightly, just like those little Japanese girls did when they fucked my ex husband in that hotel room above the roof tops of Tokyo, and then Kyo and I came, him spurting inside me but silent, me, sighing, whispering, perspiring a little, and, after a long pause, winking both at my neighbour and at the web-cam bolted into the corner of the room.
But I had to remember that I was his host mother and I had duties. So after a few minutes I lifted myself off his cock, which was still as stiff as a spanner, hitched my stockings up again, wagged my finger at him and said, ‘Tomorrow morning, Kyo, you must be ready to fuck me before breakfast. Then you won’t be late.’
And when he’d scuttled off to school, I fired up my laptop and showed my Graham, far away in Sydney, what we’d been doing.
The next student was a quick learner, too. He was taller than Kyo, but on his first morning I found him in my sitting room hanging up all these red and gold dangly charms.
‘To bring my host mother good luck.’
He had huge black eyes and Gok Wan hair. I thought he might be gay until he told me about his black belt in taekwondo. Everyone in South Korea, he told me, has a black belt. They learn it in the military.
Yes, but he could still be gay … so I asked him to put on his taekwondo uniform and show me his surge fist and dragon punch.
‘Those are from computer games, Mrs Caroline. Not real moves.’
The real moves, especially when I persuaded him to perform them naked, was all I needed to know. Every morning I would strut into the kitchen and he’d be ready. He’d show me his cock, short, slim, white, and perfectly stiff, jutting out of his white suit. Then once he’d eaten three fried eggs and two rashers, he’d stand up, kick his chair back, just like I’d shown him. Then he’d have me right on this kitchen table, riding me, tight white buttocks jerking as he fucked me, plates clattering to the floor, mouth open in silent climax. My neighbour filming from the patio. Me hysterical with pleasure.
And watching in cyberspace all the way from Sydney, my ex husband becoming aroused and very, very interested.
In amongst my alabaster army of silent house guests there was one exception. My Arab boy. He was very royal, very devout, and very virgin. He had silky skin the colour of cafe crème. Which is why I spent much of his short but delicious stay in my care licking him, very slowly, all over.
What he also had, and the jolt of lust that shook me the first time I disrobed him proved how much I still relished a thing of beauty, was a very big, brown cock. My job was to show him what to do with it.
At first I decided just to be the perfect mother figure. There was danger written all over this one. His family were strict and powerful, he was engaged to a princess whose bare face he had never seen, and he had the permanently wary look of a handsome, muscular Bambi.
But I’m afraid he started it, because he broke my only rule and wandered one night into my bedroom.
He knew it was a mistake as soon as he saw me sitting at my dressing table. As our eyes met in the bevelled glass of my Venetian mirror and his eyes wandered over my naked shoulders, I doubted he’d ever seen this much female flesh.
‘Sorry, Mrs Caroline. Sorry. I want ask you for clean towel –’
He shuffled his bare feet on the carpet, but he didn’t move. He was half asleep, as always. He was also half naked, and, as always, squeaky clean. He wore designer jeans falling unintentionally low over his hips and I could see the jut of them, the young, permanent bulge in his crotch. He crossed his arms over his hairless, muscular chest like a surly kid and leaned in the doorway.
I decided to take it very slow, which I regret, looking back. I stood up. Unlike all my other boys, he’d caught me unawares. Because it was night time, I was naked as the day I was born. Like him I was as clean as a whistle. No war paint. No armour plating. If you walk in the right way your breasts will always look good as new. Just bare, and heavy, let them bounce a little. So I stepped closer, my breasts tilting at him, nipples shrinking into bright red inviting hardness. Graham’s cherries. My hair was wet from the shower, freshly blonde. All I wore was my stockings. Always the glossy nude sheen, the lacy tops leading the eye up the thighs to my fanny, waxed, smooth, girlish, my flash of pink smiling an invitation.
He couldn’t move. I’d never seen such genuine innocence in an adult male. Such paralysing shock. And such a genuine, male, reaction. Eyes, mouth open. Mind frozen. Body on fire. Jeans straining and pulling round his cock.
‘La’a, haraam,’ he stammered, holding his hands palms up as I sashayed up to him, idly caressing my breasts. ‘Can’t. Forbidden.’
‘Oh, it may be forbidden, my love, but I happen to know that you have your desires just like any white man.’ I cupped my hand over his crotch and had his flies undone quicker than you could say ‘Pharaoh’. ‘I saw a long brown Arabian cock once before, you know. I was 20 years old, and walking down a back street in Cairo one hot afternoon. There was a man sitting in the shadows, watching me, and he lifted up his gelabhia and jerked himself off, just as I was walking by.’
He frowned, not understanding perfectly. I caught hold of the surrendering hands easily and led him to my big, white bed. I glanced to make sure the curtains were open. Ever since Kyo, I had developed the taste for being watched. I liked the cocoon of my own home, but the thought of being watched, being known from outside, also turned me on. My own bedroom looked across the front of the cobbled mews. These chi chi little houses are very close to one another. Well, they used to be stables, didn’t they? Full of horses, and grooms. Then cars, and chauffeurs. Not designed for detached, aloof living.
Opposite my window anyone could be arriving for dinner, departing for a journey, watching for an awaited lover, getting ready for bed themselves.
I glanced to make sure the web cam was angled correctly. Well, both cameras, actually. I’d added to my equipment in recent weeks.
And then I pushed my boy on to his back, easily like a dandelion, and pulled his jeans off. He was shaking. I kept stroking him, smoothing his skin, soothing myself too, and I just wanted to lick him. And sniff him. He smelt of sweet caramel, and coconut.
‘Ever had your cock sucked, habib?’
Before he could answer I slipped his knob stickily into my mouth.
He jerked with shock, tangling his fingers in my hair, and I gripped the tops of his legs and kept the moist tip of his cock firmly in my mouth. His cock started jumping over my tongue, probing to get between my teeth. I stroked his legs, his stomach, his balls, and he arched, as if in pain, then relaxed. My hair trailed over him as I tipped myself forward and started to suck him, hard.
I heard the purr of an expensive car outside. The pause, and clunk of a heavy door. The murmur of voices, a low laugh. Were they glancing up at me? Could they see my white face, sucking on my chocolate lollipop?
He was huge now, swollen and pumping desperately. I wanted him inside me, but he was going to have to come back in the morning and beg me. Please, host mother, let me fuck you.
I smiled to myself at all that promise, tucked away in my little house, for my delight. I pushed his thick cock back a little with my tongue. But then he grabbed my head, a boy used to getting his own way, and his hands closed over my ears so that all I could hear was the rushing of my own breath. My petit prince. I sucked it back in to my mouth, towards my throat, so that he stiffened and swelled and started thrusting. His hands started to guide my head slowly but firmly while he groaned softly, and that relieved the pressure in my throat. As my mouth slid up his cock, I nipped the hot, taut flesh. He pushed in more urgently, lacing his fingers behind my neck, jerking his hips to fuck my face.
I thought about the camera, my husband watching, too far away to stop me, maybe my neighbours watching, near enough to join in.
Watching Mrs Caroline on all fours on her bed, her white bottom in the air, empty, but her red mouth filled with a thick young cock, sucked for the very first time.
Holding his cock with one hand, I let my other hand trail down to my pussy and push quickly inside. It welcomed my fingers, sucking at them while I sucked at his rigid dick, which was bouncing and straining in my mouth as my tongue licked the strong veins and rounded, leaking tip.
As I sucked, hot pleasure radiated through me. I felt my boy’s body getting tight, his balls shrinking up with impossible pleasure, my own excitement bunching up ready to explode, and then his cock suddenly stiffened, swelled another couple of inches, and then pumped violently once, twice, straining down my throat and knocking my head back. My mouth sucked on him as hot spunk shot into my throat.
I rubbed at myself frantically, coming quickly and wetly round my own fingers as I held my boy’s brown cock tightly inside my mouth and swallowed his creamy mess.
Two days later, and after a lot more tender licking, he was gone. Summoned, perhaps, by an all-knowing, scandalised family. Had they also posted web cams to spy on what he was doing with his host mother? Either way, I never got that velvety brown, virginal cock up inside me.
But the pale white quiet cocks kept on coming. The web cam kept on rolling. And one morning, as I leaned in the doorway, in my slippery peacock dressing gown, waving my latest student off to school, a man walked up the cobbles towards my house. He wore a suit and carried a briefcase.
And as Graham stopped in front of me, tugging at his cuffs, we both glanced at the distinct bulge in his trousers.
