Mrs. Robinson (Mrs. Robinson #1)

by Seth King

  Back to when the world felt like New York.

  Ben looked up at me and licked his wet, pink, delicious lips. “You might want to go to your bathroom now. Let’s get some of that revenge we talked about.”

  9

  Ben Bradley

  I opened the steam-slick door and entered the shower. I felt Grace freeze and scratch her elbow a little for some reason as I wrapped my arms around her and pressed against her from behind, trying not to think about what I was touching: a married woman. For a moment the metal railing in the shower reminded me of the cage I fought in, and of all the other things caging me in – student loan debt, Claire’s health scares, her medical debt, my place in society in genera, etcetera. Here I was, my last chance to start breaking free from that cage, and all I had to do was get all the guilt out of my mind and fuck Mrs. Robinson. In the same way that I took all the rage and intensity in my brain and focused it into destroying my opponent’s face within the cage, all I had to do now was do a similar amount of damage to Grace’s pussy in this cage.

  And forget that she was twice my age…

  And that I was starting to like her more than anyone I’d liked in months…

  But none of that mattered now. She was my mission, and by God, I was going to lob a direct hit on her pleasure spot. And obviously it wasn’t all angst – I lay up at night sometimes with my dick in my hand, exploring myself as I imagined rendezvous with older women just like Grace, and here I was, my fantasy fulfilled.

  For a long while I just held her like that as the water ran down our backs. I knew I had things to do, things I’d been paid to do, but I couldn’t string together the crazily contradictory thoughts and emotions zooming through my mind in any way that made sense.

  “Well?” she finally asked, probably growing impatient. I planted a kiss on her shoulder.

  “I just want you to know you’re enough for me,” I said. For a moment the white noise from the showerhead was the only sound I heard. I held onto her hard, because until walking through her door tonight, I’d felt lost at sea in a storm– but here, right in front of me, was an anchor, even if the storm still raged around us.

  “You’re beautiful, too, Ben,” she said sadly. “The way you dealt with your sister…it was amazing. More than amazing.”

  I smiled and slowly turned her around. Her skin felt phenomenal against my hands, reminding me how much I wanted to feel her everywhere, immediately. Ever so gently, I put a thumb on her chin, pulled her forward, and kissed her again – except this time it wasn’t the violent, punishing kiss of before, but soft, tender, exploratory.

  “I like you, Mrs. Robinson,” I smiled, my mouth still against hers. “You’re alright.”

  She averted her eyes somewhat guiltily. “You’re alright, too. But…”

  “But what?”

  “But why do you like me? I’m so…old. Too old.”

  I slid my hand down her chest and played with her nipple. Her breathing halted, and she tensed under me. It almost made me angry that she didn’t see how beautiful she was, and when I was angry, bad things happened. “One – you’re not too old. So what if you came along a little before me on the conveyor belt of time? You’re still beautiful. You have a better body and face than most of the girls my age,” I told her. “And two…I don’t know. I’m sick of being overlooked by the world because I’m poor, because of who I am. But so far, it seems like you look at me instead of through me.” I paused and swallowed. “Not that it’ll last. I’m young, and broke, and going nowhere, and have nothing to offer you…”

  She cut me off. “Ben, I have enough money. Spoil me with affection.”

  “Or I’ll spoil you by doing this,” I grunted as I reached for the detachable showerhead, making her knees weaken against me. Her strange attraction to me was my undoing, and now I couldn’t control myself. I rubbed the skin around her clit in slow circles with one hand and pinched her nipple with the other. “You are so. Fucking. Sexy, Mrs. Robinson,” I breathed. She moaned louder, and I put the showerhead against her nipple, just like Miss Jill had taught me. The stream was steady and steamy, and I held it right up against her nipple, spinning it in a circle against her skin. With my free hand I twirled around her clit, dancing around the edge without ever actually touching it.

  “Oh, Ben…” she moaned. “This is perfect. You’ve gotten less rough. Put your finger in…”

  “Not yet,” I said, massaging her with the showerhead. “We’re gonna take this slow so I can savor you. Tell me, have you ever held this shower head on your pussy and made yourself come?”

  She closed her eyes, wrecked with guilt. “Yes.”

  “Why?” I demanded, wanting to hear it out loud.

  “Because I was lonely and I wanted to come.”

  “And it felt good, didn’t it?” I whispered, goading her on, and she nodded. Suddenly I moved the showerhead to her pussy, making her gasp into my mouth. “Feel how that warm water washes over your pussy, Mrs. Robinson. Feel it spread you apart like my tongue is about to do. Feel the stream pulsate against your clit and put pressure on it. Do you like that?”

  She leaned back, her eyes rolling into her head. “Ben, I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”

  I pulled my hand away, and she gave me a disappointed look.

  “Hey, why’d you stop?”

  I smirked. “Because I want you to do it. I want to hold my dick in my hand and stroke my shaft while I watch you make yourself come.”

  “…What?”

  I licked my lip involuntarily. “Your Miss Jill role play really got me thinking, and now I want to give you the whole treatment.”

  “The whole treatment?”

  “Yes. I remember one day in specific, I came home from school and threw my bag down, and I looked up and saw her standing right there in my house. She said my grandma was sick and my mom had gone to the hospital for the night to see her, and I knew exactly what she wanted – she wanted to hook up in my own house.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “Yes. She made me take off my jeans right there and led me into the shower, then she told me she wanted me to masturbate for her.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “Yes, just like this.”

  I reached down and took the head of my cock between my fingers, stroking and running my fingers all around, letting a little moan escape my lips as I did so. I was so fucking horny that my tip swelled every time I touched it, and that familiar tingly, sparkly feeling bloomed around my crotch, telling me I was about to come, but I steeled myself and held the orgasm – I wanted to save that for when I spurted all over Grace’s back after fucking her. I always wondered if women knew how good this felt, to rub your fingers down your shaft and stroke your tip up and down until it spurted out a hot, wet load. How did that differ from a female orgasm? And why did I wonder these things? In any case, Grace was about to feel enough on her own to be satisfied for weeks.

  As I rubbed myself, I opened my eyes and locked eyes with Grace.

  “You fucking like this, don’t you,” I asked her. “You like watching me play with my cock.”

  “Mhmm,” she breathed.

  “Good. Once Miss Jill’s pussy was good and wet, she’d put on a little show for me while I masturbated, just to warm things up even more. Now it’s your turn. Show me how you please yourself with that showerhead, Mrs. Robinson. Make yourself come while I jack off.”

  After giving me one last look to make sure I was serious, she took a deep breath and grabbed the showerhead. She’d never masturbated for anyone – I could tell – and the guilt on her face made it ten times hotter. Finally she let the showerhead drop and held it on her clit. She tried to control her reaction for a second, but soon she let her eyes roll back into her head as her mouth dropped open.

  “Yes, Mrs. Robinson. Don’t be shy. Let me see you play with that pussy.”

  She sped up, moaning and tensing as she circled her hand round and round. I leaned forward and bit one of her nipples, which w
as deliciously firm and perky.

  “Fuck, Mrs. Robinson. That water feels good on your clit, doesn’t it? Make yourself come while I jack off. Keep going.”

  We masturbated together. The air in the shower was so tense, I could probably reach up and punch it. I took long, slow breaths as I slid my fingers around my cock, trying not to come as I watched her. She massaged herself with the head as I licked and bit her nipple every so often, her breathing growing ragged, her movements growing more and more jerky until finally she got close to the edge and glanced down at my cock. I held it my hand and motioned for her to look up at me, the look in my eyes deadly.

  “Don’t fucking come yet,” I ordered, inserting a finger into her pussy as she massaged her clit with the water. She leaned back, her face in agony.

  “Why not?”

  “Because Miss Jill would punish me if I came too fast. She’d tie my hands above the bed and jack me off, and if I came before she allowed me to, she’d get very mad at me. So I’m gonna finger-fuck you until you’ll beg me to come, but you are not allowed to orgasm until I decide you can, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Ben,” she breathed, and I sped my movements, pushing in and out of her, as her body tensed even more. She tried to move the showerhead away to lessen the sensation, but I moved it back. I knew I must’ve looked intimidating – maybe even scary, but I didn’t care.

  “Hell no – you’re not getting off that easy.”

  Growing angrier, I leaned forward and pleased her with both hands, fucking her with one finger while rubbing her clit with the other hand, and licking her neck as I did so. I knew it was all too much for her to handle, and I felt her walls start to contract around me, signaling her body was trying to come.

  “Don’t. Fucking. Come. Until. I. Say. So. If you do, you will be punished very hard. Do you understand?”

  She opened her eyes and peered down at me. “Ben…oh, Ben…I can’t wait any longer…”

  I leaned forward and bit her bottom lip, making her eyes fly open in confusion. “Fine. Fucking come now.” She finally detonated in front of me, squeezing her trembling legs together and holding her breath for one long moment before collapsing and slumping against my shoulder, moaning and panting and gasping. It was taking all of me not to just slide myself into her right now. “Yes, come, Mrs. Robinson. Come for me. I can’t wait to be inside of you. You are so fucking sexy,” I grunted into her ear as her orgasm stretched on and on, her fingernails digging into my back as I savored the pain. Finally she stilled, her heart starting to slow, but her face was more agonized than ever.

  “My God,” she moaned.

  “What?”

  “That was…I have never…in my life…”

  She trailed off and covered her face with her arm.

  “Done something so naughty?” I asked as I kissed her ear, and she nodded. “I know. And I love it.”

  “You did? Do I arouse you, Ben? Really?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  She blinked a few times. “You turn me on, too. So much. I’m soaking wet, in more ways than one. But God, you’re so young, and my husband…”

  “Fuck your husband,” I said as I reached down, ran my finger along her wet pussy, and then moved it to her lips. “Put it in your mouth and suck on it. Taste yourself.”

  With large eyes, she shook her head and then did as she was told, taking her finger in her mouth.

  “This is new, isn’t it? Does your husband make you taste your own pussy like this, Mrs. Robinson?”

  “No, Ben.”

  “And does it taste good?”

  “Yes, Ben,” she breathed. I looked down at the place between her thighs.

  “Good,” I said as I crouched beneath her. “Because after Miss Jill watched me jack off that day, she made me lick her pussy to get hard again, and now I want a taste of you.”

  I dived my mouth forward and took every bit of her into my mouth, making her cry out and dig her nails into my shoulders again. I backed up and made another approach, going softer this time, licking and kissing her and slowly flicking her clit with the tip of my tongue while she groaned and writhed above me. She was fucking delicious and I wanted my tongue on – and in – every inch of her.

  “Ughhhh,” she moaned, wrapping her hands around my head.

  “Pull my hair,” I said as I looked up into her half-open eyes, my mouth on her clit. “Pull my fucking hair. I like pain.”

  She tugged on my short hair, and I groaned and rubbed my rough stubble against the side of her legs, making her lean back and gasp as I stopped to flutter my tongue over her sweet clit again and again. “You. Taste. So. Fucking. Good,” I said as I licked her and stared up at her beautiful face, making her screw up her features in pleasure. “I can’t wait for you to teach me how to fuck you exactly how you want. I’m all yours, Mrs. Robinson. All. Fucking. Yours. I’m your own personal fantasy tonight.”

  “Ahhh,” she moaned. I inserted one finger into her and motioned upwards, lobbing a hit on her G spot. This combined with my tongue’s subtle flirtation with her clit was enough to send her over the edge again, and her knees buckled. Since she was pinned between the wall and me, I supported her on the way down, and as I rose she went completely limp against my chest. As her breathing slowed, I grabbed her chin and devoured her mouth as the hot water flowed over us. And for the first time ever, I really felt the lips I was kissing – felt them to the floor of me, actually.

  Oh, shit – this was dangerous.

  “Ben, stop.”

  She pulled away and stared into my eyes, her face drained but her eyes hungry, her mascara running down her cheek in the misty shower.

  “What are you?” she asked with a weird little look, caught in something between awe and disbelief. “Some man-boy sex machine sent to torture me and make me come again and again? This can’t be real. It’s like you’re peeling back my skull and looking into my brain.”

  “Oh, but it is real,” I said as I kissed her neck. “Age and talent have nothing to do with each other – remember that. And just because I’m a dude doesn’t mean I don’t know women.” The boredom I saw in Grace’s eyes was genderless, not that I could tell her that. She wanted something else – she was bored with the romance novels – and she had called me here to fix that.

  “Still, Ben,” she whispered. “This is wrong.”

  Her one word – wrong – seemed to fill the shower with guilt.

  “I know it is,” I said, my endorphin high starting to crash and burn, thinking she was trying to walk away. “All I know is how alive I feel when I touch you. And-”

  “And that’s why I want it,” she interrupted. “I’m sick of being good. I mean, when’s the last time following the rules got me anywhere? I want you in me. I have to have you. Take me, Ben. Fuck me.”

  I shuddered from head to toe, and my cock got so hard, it brushed up against her leg.

  “Good God – you are bad, Mrs. Robinson.” I reached down and took my cock in my hand, which was now standing at full attention, to say the least. “So you do want this cock?” I growled, making her eyes get even hungrier.

  “Yes. So badly.”

  As my hormones ran wild, my brain threw up one last yellow flag. “…But you know what that will mean, though, right?”

  It means this is real, and you’ve cheated on your husband, and I’ve accepted money for sex, officially rendering me the lowest form of human being to walk the Earth…

  “Ben, your mouth was just on my vagina for ten minutes,” she said. “How is sex any different from that?”

  I took one final look into her eyes. They were desperate, starving, pleading. I grabbed my dick and ran myself over her pussy ever-so-slowly.

  “Beg me to fuck you, then, Mrs. Robinson,” I demanded, and she tried to keep her eyes from rolling back into her head again.

  “Please fuck me, Ben.”

  “Beg harder.” If she wanted to be wishy-washy and keep questioning herself, she was going to get punished.
>
  “Fuck me now!”

  “I’m not sure,” I said, taking my cock away again.

  “Why not?”

  I paused. How did I explain that I actually liked her, and that it terrified me, because I knew I was only there as her little sex pet? She had a weapon – all this money – and she was using to use me.

  But then again, I realized I had a weapon, too – and it was right here in my hand.

  “You know what Miss Jill liked to get hit by?” I asked, making her back away a little in fear.

  “What? A whip or something?”

  “No. This big dick in my hand. And now I’m going to slap it against your clit and make you come again, Mrs. Robinson.”

  I backed away a few inches and then slapped myself against her pussy, and the sensation was so heavenly, she cried out.

  “Ahh.”

  I slapped her clit with the tip of my dick again, harder this time, pushing her even closer to the precipice.

  “Again!” she cried. “This perfect. But make it hurt.”

  If she says so…

  I backed up and slammed myself against her so hard, it almost hurt me. She stilled, closed her eyes, and started shivering uncontrollably as she slid down the slippery wall, falling into a heap on the tile floor as her legs twitched back and forth. I lowered, too, until I rested between her open legs. She finally opened her eyes and peered over at me.

  “That was the hardest…I have ever…had one of those…in my life.”

  She pulled her knees together out of embarrassment, but I pushed them back open and stared down at her pussy, suddenly absolutely ravenous.

  “I hate it when women do that,” I told her.

  “Do what?”

  “Hide themselves. I want to see everything – I want to see what’s mine, if only for the night.”

  “Ugh, you are sexy,” she sighed. “And what is it? Why are you still looking at me like that?”