|Mrs Brown & Arthur|
|by Max Roper|
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|© Copyright 2017 - Max Roper - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: F/m; cougar; tease; climax; bond; rope; bedtie; mast; denial; torment; cons; X||
|Mrs Brown & Arthur Max Roper F/m; cougar; tease; climax; bond; rope; bedtie; mast; denial; torment; cons; X|
I spotted him at the Safeway and he looked fine. Early twenties, home from college, tight Levi’s, tighter tee shirt, sneakers, muscles, a nice smile, all grown up now. Ready for me, finally.
“Hello Ms Brown. You’re looking lovely.”
“Why thank you Arthur. You’re not looking bad yourself.” He blushed fetchingly.
I was in one of my velvet phases that year. The dress was mid-calf, perhaps a bit much for grocery shopping but when you look like I did you like to flaunt it. He certainly didn’t mind filling his eyes with me.
It was so easy.
That night I had him in my parlor, drinking wine, nibbling cookies. Before long I was straddling his lap, my dress bunched up to mid-thigh, his hands all over me as we kissed. I slid further forward and ground my pelvis against his hard young cock. It took about fifteen seconds of grinding before he gasped and tightened up. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remain motionless. I was having none of that and just pushed and wriggled a little more until he groaned and pumped against me.
“Oopsie,” I said with a grin, still straddling him, still wriggling. “Guess I got a little carried away.”
He was blushing furiously. “I’m so sorry! I got stuff on your dress and my jeans and oh, God. I’m so embarrassed.”
I almost felt sorry for him, he was so sweet. I stood, leaned forward and gave him a final kiss before moving away from him.
“Well let’s see about getting you cleaned up. You can’t go home to mama with that big wet spot. Go into the bathroom and take off your jeans and shorts and, oh my, looks like your tee shirt too. There’s a robe hanging on the door you can wear while we do some laundry.”
He did as requested and returned with a bundle of clothes. The robe reached almost halfway to his knees and was almost able to close around his chest. That’s why I’d chosen it. I started the washer, then took him by the hand and led him to my bedroom.
“Since I made you go off so quickly, it only seems fair for me to try to make it up to you and see if we can have another go, one that lasts a little longer.”
I pushed him gently down so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of him. I began running my fingertips up his bare leg, working around to the inner thighs, looking for a reaction. It didn’t take long for his twenty year old cock to return to full strength.
“Hmmm,” I murmured. “Seems like somebody is ready for another go.”
He smiled down at me. “I guess he’s always ready to go.”
“Does that mean I have to worry about him going off to soon again?” I asked.
“Well,” he said. “Depends on your definition of ‘too soon’. Come up here and kiss me.”
“Oh no,” I replied. “I’m not gonna sit on your lap again. We’re gonna find a way to make this one last.”
I snapped my fingers as if an idea just occurred to me. “I know what we could do,” I said slyly. “Trust me?”
“Well sure, but...”
“Good, because you’re gonna love this.”
I pulled the sash from the robe and used it to bind his wrists. I pushed him onto his back and pulled his hands above his head, tying the sash to my headboard. He smiled up at me, trusting. He thrashed around some when I started playing with his cock but I straddled him and we did some more kissing which calmed him down enough to let me slide off and tie his ankles to the footboard with his legs wide apart. He didn’t seem to wonder why I had two lengths of rope readily available. Apparently his mind was elsewhere.
“You showed me how quick you could come. Now I’m gonna show you how slow you can go.”
First I put his clothes in the dryer. Then, using just my hands, I teased the poor young man nonstop for about ninety minutes at which point he was so desperate for that second orgasm he would’ve done anything to get it.
That was my plan. I began untying him, telling him I had an appointment and needed to go. He protested, whined, and begged. I told him I’d see him later, got him dressed in his still-warm clothes from the dryer, and shooed him out the door.
I suspect I’ll be hearing from him, and I suspect he’ll be willing to do pretty much anything I want. I have plans for him.
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