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Some words from Jayne.

Any of you who have read my other stories may recall the first part of this one where I have a fling with my daughter’s ex-boyfriend. This is what happened after that fling.


“Hello Jack,” I said into the video intercom in my apartment just after returning from the gym.

“Hi Jayne,” he replied through the loudspeaker.

Jack was a young black guy who Sara, my nineteen-year-old daughter had dated for a year or so but had recently given him up.

On the video, he looked terrible and I guessed that he had been crying. I pressed the button to open the gates and watched him walk across the cobbled courtyard, up the steps and into my apartment. I felt sorry for him and did nothing to stop him putting his hand on my hip and pecking me on the cheek as had become our custom. As his face neared mine I could smell drink on him, something I had never done before; in fact, I had rarely seen him touch a drop. He was a professional soccer player just on the verge of getting into the first team of a Premier League team in Birmingham where he lived most of the time. That’s in the Midlands of England and is some 120 miles from where Sara lives with me.

After he kissed my cheek he didn’t move away nor did he remove his hand from my hip.

“You know she dumped me?” he murmured as I involuntarily put my hand on his shoulder.

“Yes Jack, Sara told me.”

“It was right out of the blue, I had no idea.”

“It happens.”

“Not to me it doesn’t. Well hasn’t before.”

“There’s a first time for everything” I said as I felt his arm slip from my hip and go around my waist a little way.

It was an awkward situation. I felt very sorry for him for over the year or so he and Sara had been seeing each other I had become quite fond of him. My feelings towards him, however, were confused and garbled. He was, well had been until earlier today, my daughter’s boy-friend. Even had I have been attracted to him I could never have let anything happen and I was a little annoyed with him for a number of covert advances I felt he’d been making towards me; he should have shown more respect to Sara. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure that they were real advances. He was a bit of a joker, with a quick wit, a good way with words and he was always sending me up in an affectionate sort of way. But recently he had been more flirty and overt than previously including cuddling and kissing me on the mouth at a party. Even after him doing that I wasn’t sure that he was, as it were, after me as I believed that he and Sara were in love.

Now though with his face just inches from mine, our bodies almost touching and his arm partially round my waist he was implying other meanings and desires. But there still was a get out of gaol element for him and a doubt for me. He was upset and maybe slightly drunk. Did he really mean anything by holding me like that and leaving his face resting against mine? And did I metaphorically or otherwise owe him a shoulder to cry on?

And then I got my answers.

He moved his face away and looked right into my eyes. He smiled and said quietly.

“Yes Jayne even a first time for this.”

He pulled me to him. “Jack stop,” I said sharply as his chest squashed my full breasts and his stomach pressed against mine.

“What would the lovely Mrs West say if I kissed her?”

I didn’t say anything, but I turned my face away as his came towards mine so he missed my lips and his forehead hit my glasses almost knocking them off.

“I think we should stop right now,” I said as my mind and body fought the conflict.

Physically Jack really is beautiful. Just over six feet and having been on the books of a professional football club since he was ten he has the body of a trained athlete and the looks of a film star.

Every cell in my brain said I should stop him, but to my increasing horror every sinew in my entire body was saying quite the opposite. Both parts of my being recalled the brief kiss we’d had a few weeks ago, the touches on my feet under the table and on my knee in the car. All the lingering stares, especially round the pool at the holiday I had taken them both on in the South of France when my 36 inch D cup boobs were hanging out of the too small bikini, the double entrendres and, of course, the vision of his toned body in shorts, wrapped in a towel or wearing a shirt open down the front flashed through my mind

“Something tells me,” he went on. “That you don’t completely mean that.”

“I do Jack please stop,” I told him as coolly as I could muster although I was on fire inside.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” he said quietly applying more pressure with his hand in the small of my back pulling me tighter against him.

Having just returned from the gym my boobs in the ugly, but necessary when you have big tits, black sports bra were being flattened. His body was so firm and muscular. He pushed himself forward and pressed the lower half against me. ‘Oh shit’ I groaned to myself when I felt the length of his erection pressing into my lycra covered stomach in the tight yoga pants.

“That was your problem last time wasn’t it?” he asked referring to the incident when he had tried to kiss me.


“Well,” he went on writhing çukurambar escort his torso against me. “That problem has gone away.”

He went to kiss me, but again I turned my face away.

“Jack please this is ridiculous,” I groaned not meaning one word of it.

“It’s not ridiculous Jay. It’s what we both want.”


“Yes it is.”

“It isn’t,” I croaked trying to wriggle away from him, but doing so in a half-hearted way.

“You know it is. I want it, you know that, you’ve known it for ages, haven’t you?”


“Yes you have Jay, be honest.”

“I may have thought you did at times.”

“Well I have ever since the first time I saw you, I adore older women and especially this older one,” he went on pulling me tighter to him and burying his face in my spiky, blonde hair.

“I did guess,” I murmured rather pointlessly. “Now let me go Jack and let’s have a cup of tea or something.”

“No I want to kiss you.”

“No you mustn’t,” I groaned.

“I must it’s what we both want. You know I do. You know I want to make love to you.”

“Jack no, don’t even say it,” I groaned my heart pounding and pulses racing at the thought.

“And Jay you want it as well don’t you?” He said sliding his hand into my unzipped track top and onto my boob in the thin white singlet. Even through the thick sports bra his touch was electric.

‘Oh God,’ I moaned to myself as the lovely feelings went through my body reducing my will to resist him.

I should have replied, but I didn’t. I stayed silent and he took that to mean exactly what it did mean, that my resistance was fading, but I didn’t mean to show him that. He squeezed my breast surprisingly lightly, just perfectly in fact.

‘He knows what he’s doing’ I thought as reluctantly I turned my face towards his. I felt terrible. The guilt flooded through me. I was so disappointed in myself. Surely by my mid-forties I should have been able to fight off such feelings, resist such advances and stop myself from giving in, particularly to a guy of twenty who was well young enough to be my son? But I clearly wasn’t for I was looking into his eyes, I wasn’t wriggling my breasts away from his hand, I wasn’t squirming away from the erection that was pressing so deliciously into the softness of my tummy and I was no longer turning my face away from his. No, I was looking at him, I was holding his gaze and as his mouth closed the gap between us I parted my lips. Then we were kissing. Then our lips were squirming together and his tongue was probing deep into my mouth and then my daughter’s recently ex-boyfriend and I were starting to make love.

It had been some time, probably three or maybe four months since I had made love. Being separated for over two years and not enjoying dating, I relied on an old flame, who was overseas, the occasional brief fling and myself for sex. So, I was easy game in some ways and putty in his hands in others. In his arms, our bodies pressed together, his lips on mine and his erection soaring up the length of my stomach, my arousal grew rapidly.

With his hand inside my singlet cupping my breast in the sports bra. I was losing it, I knew that, but could do nothing about it. I started to kiss him back and of course he noticed that and he kissed me even more passionately. He was almost chewing my lips and his tongue was marauding around my wide-open mouth. I kissed him back very strongly. I writhed against him and I started giving in to the wondrous feelings surging through me.

My resistance had pretty much gone physically and fading fast emotionally. No longer was he in the no go area of being my daughter’s boy-friend. No, from that aspect he was fair game. But he was over twenty years my junior. Did it matter? After all he’s a man and I’m a woman, isn’t that all there is in such situations? Is there anything other than ying and yang, on and off, black and white and yes and no? I almost smiled despite his mouth covering mine when I thought that for so long I’d been saying no with both my mind and body yet now I was saying a clear yes with my body and a possible yes with my mind as well and that was a disastrous combination. It all seemed so simple. Just give in and let him fuck me. I wanted it, he did and who would know? Straightforward and natural. Boy wants girl, girl realises she wants boy so they have each other. But the age difference and he had so recently been my daughter’s boy-friend were such massive considerations I was still having, albeit reducing, concerns.

He pushed my open track top off my shoulders and let it fall to the ground. ‘Fuck he’s undressing me’ I thought. But then I realised I wanted that. I wanted him to take my clothes off, to gradually expose my body so that I could flaunt all my womanly places to him. Yet at the same times I was nervous about that. How would he react to my full, slightly, saggy, 36D tits, the ‘motherly’ swell of my tummy and the excess flesh on my hips and butt? A good looker like him would probably have had a string of young, slim, model-like girls, with ‘stick-insect’ type bodies like my Sara. And, of course, he had a gorgeous, smooth athlete’s body and from what I had felt pressed into my stomach a large cock that I had noticed when he wore demetevler escort swimming shorts on the holiday and when sunbathing on the balcony of my Dockland’s apartment! It felt so good and big pressed into me and I wanted that. God how I did. I wanted to feel it, hold it, stroke it and kiss it. I reached down and found it through his jeans just as he pulled my singlet up above my breasts. He fumbled his hand into my bra as I slid his zip down. He scooped one of my tits from its cup as I slipped my hand inside his jeans that were now open and around his hips. He sucked my nipple into his mouth at exactly the same moment as my hand found his cock. This was becoming very heady stuff indeed. But then my mobile rang.

“Leave it.”

“No, I can’t, it might be Sara.”

“Fuck it, you can’t stop now.”

But somehow I could and I did. It wasn’t Sara, but a business call. As I chatted he tried to kiss and touch me, but I moved away and stopped him. It was rather surreal standing talking business on the phone with my breasts hanging out of my bra and a twenty- year-old boy with his arms around me and his jeans round his knees.

Rather ridiculously I suppose, I pulled my singlet down modestly covering my boobs. Jack moved away a little and stood right in front of me. He smiled and took his tee shirt off. His wonderful physique made me shudder as I imagined my breasts being squashed against his firm, muscular chest. He raised his eyebrows and mouthed ‘Ok?’ I nodded. I felt the heat building in me and my heart pounding as casually almost he slid his jeans and underpants off and stood before me rampantly naked. I turned away as it was impossible for me to concentrate on the call with a naked and erect young man in front of me. It got worse. He went behind me, put his arms around me and cupped my breasts outside the singlet. I felt his erection hard and hot through the thin, tight, black lycra that was moulded to my bum like a second skin; I didn’t wear knickers under them.

“Hurry Jayne I can’t wait,” he whispered into my ear.

I didn’t like to tell him that I couldn’t either. At last the call ended and I clicked off. I turned and faced him.

“You bastard,” I grinned.

“You liked it though, didn’t you?”

There was no need for a reply for I was immediately in his arms and we were kissing again. This time with the reservations and the ‘will she won’t she’ questions gone from the agenda things were a lot easier. I realised that I had now capitulated completely and was primed and ready to have sex with him. It struck as being quite remarkable that in the space of no more than half an hour Jack had gone from being Sara’s boyfriend to becoming my lover. But then I reconciled I had known him for over a year, I had become fond of him, albeit it in a mother-in-law sort of way, and I knew him so well that it wasn’t like being with a stranger as I had been several times since my separation.

The kiss went on for ages as we writhed our bodies together and our hands visited places on the other’s bodies where they hadn’t been before; the soccer training does wonders for a man’s glutes I found out wondering what he thinks of mine as his hands played with the cheeks of my bum in the yogas?

We broke the kiss and still standing in the lounge his hands confidently went for my breasts. Firstly, outside the singlet and bra, then inside them. He pulled them out again and pinched my achingly hard nipples. I yanked the singlet up and over my head. As he squeezed and rubbed my tits I reached behind me and unclipped the bra. It joined the singlet on the floor.

“Oh my God Mrs W,” they are fantastic he groaned seeing my bare breasts for the first time. “I have got to have you Jay.”

“Yes, come on.”

Taking him by the hand I led him upstairs. My tits jiggling and wobbling and my arse in the tight lycra swaying and bobbing just in front of his eyes we made it to my bedroom.

“Get on the bed,” I ordered pulling the cover off.

He looked fabulous and so sexy lying in the middle of my bed with his cock rearing sensationally right up his flat stomach to his navel confirming that what they say about black guys is true! The smooth, shininess of his black skin created a perfect contrast to the crisp, whiteness of the sheets that I recalled I had changed just that morning making me wonder if that was a premonition? Without taking my eyes off him for one moment I slid the yogas off and looked appreciatively at how he stared at my body smiling and saying.

“Oh Mrs West yes what have I been missing!”

Naked I walked slowly over to the bed, I climbed onto it, lay beside him and welcomed his arms round me. He pulled me to him and I had the fabulous experience of feeling his beautifully thick and fairly long cock pressing into the soft, slight swell of my stomach. I reached down and stroked it realising then that it would be the longest and thickest cock I had ever had.

“Mmmm” he groaned gently biting my nipple.

We kissed and stroked each other as we slowly increased the tempo and intensity of our foreplay. I thought he was so good for his age and it wasn’t long before he was giving me my first orgasm with his fingers on my clit and up my pussy.

He held me as I shuddered dikimevi escort my way through that climax but then croaked.

“I have to fuck you now Jay.”

Probably sounding far cooler and relaxed than I was I smiled and rolled from my side onto my back. “Be my guest.”

“Do I need a condom.”

“No that’s fine,” I replied, pleased that he’d asked but sure that all was ok for he’d been having sex with Sara for months and I knew that the football club gave all their players regular test for STDs.

He rolled on top of me put his arms round me and nestled his cock against my landing strip of pubic hair and my stomach. I held him and we kissed. He slid down a little and I parted my legs. We were still kissing passionately and roaming our hands all over the other’s body. He felt so good. His body was toned and firm, unlike any I had held for many, many years probably for ever. I began to understand why women of my age have such a fascination for young men.

He slid forward and the bulbous end of his cock pressed right against my lips.

“Oh yes Jack,” I groaned as with shrug of his slim hips he surged forward and his cock roared inside me.

God did it feel good! It had been so long I had almost forgotten the sensation of a cock going up my cunt. And I had never known the sensation of such a thick one invading me. I felt so full and so stretched and at first I panicked that I would not be able to take him, but clearly being used to having such difficulties he took it slowly and went up me almost inch by inch. When fully in me he stopped and remained still as we both got used to it. Then he started to fuck me with slow, rhythmic surges deep inside me then almost all the way out. It didn’t take long for either of us. Soon he was grunting that he was near and I was telling him to cum for me. Then we exploded and in a series of groans, grunts shudders and convulsions we had a wonderfully mutual orgasm.

“Oh Jay that was so good” he started.

“Shush,” I told him turning onto my side facing away from him. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to discuss anything with him. I felt guilty and a little ashamed. We lay there for a while until amazingly no more than twenty minutes or so later he was pressing a full erection against my bum and his hands were cupping and squeezing my tits. He wanted me again.

“Yes,” I grunted as I felt his cock exploring between my legs from behind. He fucked me like that, quick and urgently.

We fucked once more that evening before at my insistence he went home. He wanted to stay and as much as I would have liked going for a record number of fucks in an evening I needed to be alone to think.

I was full of remorse that night and over the next day or so. Jack had to go to Birmingham to his football club so we couldn’t see each other, which really was the best thing. I didn’t want to see him and talk to him. True I wanted to be fucked by him, but that was it. Sex and chatting are not natural bedfellows with young men I began to realise.

We got together a few days later. Before then I must have had getting on for fifty texts and emails from him. I found that hard to cope with, but then I am not part of the digital generation.

He came to the flat again. We had an early dinner and he stayed overnight. I have no idea how many times he made me cum or how many times he fucked me. It didn’t matter; the number of times was irrelevant really. The point was that we were able to have sex for hours on end and that he was able to keep me near to the orgasm boiling point for most of that time.

This went on for a few weeks. We extended our sexual practice to include lengthy and intensive foreplay based largely on oral sex. I let him cum in my mouth and I let him watch me as I swallowed his cum. I masturbated for him with him watching and holding me. I masturbated him and wallowed in him shooting his youthful mass of sperm all over my face and tits. I thrived on the quantity of sex with him but could not discount the fact that there was a fair degree of quality as well. I felt pleased for Sara that her initiation into grown up sex had been with an adept guy like Jack. But, of course, I dreaded the thought of her finding out and several times I had made Jack promise he would never tell anyone about us.

I was beginning to live my life round him. I was arranging my affairs so that I could have him to the flat and spend hours having sex with him. I now fully endorsed the older woman’s concept of sex with a younger man. It was wonderful. The fact that when I was with him I had sex on tap in such volume was so new and so fantastic to me. After a couple of months of being regularly ‘serviced’ by my young buck I was beginning to think I may have fallen for him. Yes, when I was alone and missing him I started to mistake sexual need for affection and maybe even love. Deep down I think I knew it was ridiculous, but when I was naked, in his arms with my full breasts squashed against his muscular chest and his gorgeous cock was buried deep inside me, it was easy to misplace love with lust. When I was not with him which, of course was most of the time. I missed him terribly. But I readily admitted, I didn’t really miss him as a person. Although quite intelligent he was not really educated or worldly-wise having been signed by the football club at ten and having little interest in anything other than football, I certainly didn’t miss our conversations which were limited. Limited both in range and depth and revolved mainly around us and sex. No, what I missed most was him as a cock. I missed him as my fuck machine!

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