Mature Bliss Ch. 02

Later, though, I studied the magazine closely. The pictures of curvy, mature women were fantastic, but what interested me even more was a long, illustrated and informative article on all kinds of fetishes: anal sex, BDSM, face-sitting, long fingernails, female domination, fisting, latex, leather, mature women and young men, fancy shoes and boots, smoking, stockings and lingerie, and urine sex. It was an extensive list, and there was even a short paragraph about sweater sex. That was right down my street - I love the sight of women in soft, baggy sweaters, and fuzzy legwarmers always turn me on.

*****

I never saw her in the afternoon, but she was there again at breakfast the next morning, dressed like the slut I knew her to be; my kind of slut. I did not see her as an old hag anymore, but as an alluring mistress that I would do anything to please. At the buffet, poking her perky breasts into my back, she whispered to me: "Now then, I'm sure you took a peak at my magazines. What are your fetishes? Name three."

I blushed and hesitated, but she would not let me go. "Mature women ... eh, and pussy worship ... and well, eh, chunky woollen sweaters, any kind; soft, scratchy, fuzzy..." I whispered back.

She smiled at me, knowingly.

*****

Later, I waited expectantly at the secluded spot in the winter garden. She was late, and I was all the more pleased to see her when she finally arrived. She wore the same black woollen morning coat, but she let it hang open to reveal a long and fuzzy black sweater underneath, and her legs were covered in brushed mohair legwarmers from her high-heeled slippers to above her knee. With her dark makeup and bleached blond hair she looked unbelievably trashy and sexy.

She kept up the pretence that we did not know each other and sat down on the bench opposite mine. I noticed that her magazine had a vintage look in black and white featuring stern looking women disciplining naked, handcuffed men. My dick reacted immediately to the pictures this provoked in my mind. I instantly knew that I would welcome being disciplined by her, crawling before her, if only I was allowed to pay my tribute to her sluttiness and lick her pussy.

I tried to play the game too and concentrate on my book, but my eyes were feasting on her. Her long fingernails were painted black today, matching the dark theme in her knitwear. She stroked and caressed herself openly and with obvious pleasure. She even put her magazine down beside her and let both hands follow the contours of her body as she studied it; revelling in the soft, furry texture of several layers of wool, shivering - not from cold, but from pleasure.

She performed a super slow teasing show for me. When she finally began to open her legs so that I could glance up under the hem of her black sweater, I could not see any blonde bush. She had donned soft mohair panties, and now she caressed her cunt through the soft material. She played a drawn-out teasing game, opening and closing her legs, stroking her thighs and all the time playing with her pussy covered by the black, furry panties.

It was hard for me to see perfectly what was going on, as her crotch was partly covered by the long, baggy sweater, and before I knew it, I was kneeling before her, looking up her legs. Her cheeks flushed as she brought herself to a shaking, shivering high, clasping her hands between her thighs. I tried to touch her, but she kicked me away with her sharp heels, and I sat there as a hungry puppy dog, panting to receive a small treat from my mistress.

She just sat there for some time, revelling in the afterglow of her orgasm. Then she rose to her feet, towering above me, and straightened her clothes, tugged her sweater modestly down over her hips, evidently just to prolong things and tease me unbearably. Then she brought her hands up under the hem of her sweater and ever so slowly tugged her woollen panties down. She held them out before me; black, fuzzy and with a shiny wet spot in front.

I leant forward and took them gratefully out of her hands and sniffed them, buried my face in them and inhaled the heady scent of her mature pussy. She rubbed them all over my face, spreading the wetness contained in them all over my cheeks. Oh, it was so intoxicating.

She sat herself down again, evidently very pleased with my unmistakable show of gratitude. I continued to caress her panties, inhale their strong scent, kiss them, and lick the wet spot.

"Take off your T-shirt. You have behaved well, but I need to punish you a bit all the same. Come here." I whipped off my T-shirt and shuffled forward on my knees. Leaning forward she stroked my chest at first lovingly, but then she began to scratch me - long scratches dragging her black talons down and then up again creating a number red, sensitive scratches down my chest. Gradually she concentrated her efforts in the area surrounding my nipples, and then she grasped them between her sharp nails, tore them and twisted them. I was hard not to screech out, but I knew that I was meant to take it. This was a test, and I knew I must not fail.

My whole chest was burning when she finally relented. She smiled down at me, overbearingly. I think that she was pleased with me, and I felt so proud.

"Now, take off those ugly shorts. Strip yourself naked for me." Without hesitating I tore off the rest of my clothes. It was a bit difficult, because she prevented me from getting up - I had to stay on my knees. She liked me there, on the floor below her, so that she could look down at me. Again she rose and slipped her soft, knitted morning coat off her shoulders and put it around me. I wrapped myself up in it, marvelling at the soft feeling and how nice and cosy it felt. I stroked it and admired it. It felt so good on my naked skin. It also tickled and itched my sensitive, scratched chest, however, but that only added to the fuzzy feeling.

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "I love your legwarmers, mistress. Can I touch them?"

"Be still. You are not to speak. Now, I want you to take your time and worship my feet, my legs, my thighs and then finally, finally - worship my eager, mature, well-used, wet and slippery pussy. To grind your face into my splayed-out cunt as if you wanted to crawl into my womb. I want you to savour my pussy juices; to lick and suck and with your fingers, your lips and your tongue give me that superior orgasm only a young, dutiful slave-boy can give. And as you do so, I want you to imagine all the kinds of weird sex acts this puffy, sloppy, wet and willing cunt has experienced over the years, the fingers that have explored it, the stiff dicks that have hammered it and the tongues that have worshipped it. I know I will."

She arranged herself comfortably on the padded bench, and I did as she had instructed me - starting at her feet. When I from time to time glanced up between legs, I could see her wet and glistening blond bush - the objective I intended to reach and conquer.

I loved her legwarmers. The brushed mohair felt so lovely to touch, and I brushed my cheeks against her legs in adoring fashion. I spent so much time worshipping her feet and legs that she became rather impatient and lifted her legs in the air. That put her ass cheeks and the crack between them right before my eyes, and for a considerable amount of time I concentrated on worshipping her ass and slowly licking my way towards her hairy pussy.

She opened her legs eagerly and let me proceed. Her wet pussy was nearly overflowing with cunt juice, and I licked it all up, savouring the taste, rubbing my face against her puffy, swollen lips. She used her fingers to open her pussy for my exploring tongue, and she was right; I definitely would have wanted to crawl inside her if only I had been able to. Instead I had to be content with exploring every fold, every nook and cranny with my tongue and my fingers. She twisted and turned in response.

Her old pussy was pliable, plowable, open for my fingers, and I used both hands to widen it further for my sensitive tongue. I tried to see how many fingers I could push inside. My whole hand minus my thumb slid easily inside, and as I stimulated her with a sawing motion in and out, I searched for and found her sensitive clit with the tip of my tongue. She was twisting and turning, panting frantically with as she dug her pointed fingernails into my neck. Her bushy, wiry pussy hair was all wet with a mixture of pussy juice and saliva, and I buried my face in the sloppy, pungent mess.

I folded my thumb down to push it inside also, and suddenly my whole hand slipped inside her sloppy, soggy pussy. I could feel her muscles gripping my hand as I slowly twisted it inside her body. When I tried to pull my fist out, I admired how her pussy lips wrapped themselves around my wrist as if she was trying to suck my fist back inside. Fisting her in a regular thrusting motion I again buried my face in her hairy bush. She went practically wild and clamped my head between her thighs, shaking and shuddering. I was nearly out of air when she relaxed again, letting the tide roll back. She gripped my arm firmly with both hands and slowly drew me out of her.

It had been an unforgettable experience, but I felt just as frustrated as she felt relieved. My stiff dick pointed directly at her as she licked the pussy cream off my hand and fingers. She messed with my mind. I was so full of desire and lust, and she did not release me. Instead she asked to have her coat back and wrapped herself contently in it.

She bent down towards me and whispered her room number in my ear.

"Come to my room after lunch. You can keep my panties for now. I am sure you can find some practical use for them. But bring me my magazines back. You won't be sorry..."