kwen55 Posts

    DIANA'S TALES: STUDENT AID

    All characters are 18 or older. This story was written in collaboration with Diana R. The story starts a little slow as it builds the story, but it gets there. This story features a relationship between an adulterous older white female (53 yo) and a young black man (18 yo). If that doesn't appeal to you, then please save yourself the aggravation. If it does appeal to you, we hope you enjoy.
    ******
    "Diana, I need your help," Marie pleaded on the phone. "We worked together for over 30 years. Look, you know I wouldn't call you if there was another way. I know you're retired, but you've got connections with some of our wealthy and most generous alumni. Your husband works with some of them. You've got extra pull I just don't have. Please, can't you just make some calls?"
    I was skeptical, but Marie was a good friend, and she wouldn't reach out to me unless it was a dire situation. We had worked together for decades as guidance counselors at the community college, although I retired about a year ago. I'm still only 53, but my husband makes a good living, and we could afford for me to retire, although my husband still works. For him, the work sustains and fuels him. For me, the prospect of working until I couldn't enjoy my retirement just wasn't appealing, so I quit about a year ago and have enjoyed pursuing all the interests and hobbies I never had time for previously.
    "Okay, explain it to me again," I said, trying to be patient.
    "His name's Dion Gooden. He's an African American k** from Douglass High School on the southeast side of town. Lived there his whole life, and you know how rough it is down there. He's 18, just graduated high school this spring. Dion's a real hard luck case. His dad is in prison, and his mom is a bad addict. He's been in and out of foster homes the past 5 years, but he's aged out of that system, so now he's on his own. He wants to take classes and get an associate's, but he needs some help."
    "Can't he just take out student loans or get a Pell grant?" I pointed out.
    "He could, but he's working two minimum wage jobs just to afford a car and a place to stay. You know how crazy rent has gone the past few years, and he's got some debts he needs to pay back -- "
    "So, he doesn't know how to manage his money, and he wants to be bailed out," I countered.
    "I don't think it's like that. He's racked up some medical bills, and he ran into the wrong car. The car damage was his fault, but his insurance didn't cover the full cost on the other side, so he's stuck with the extra costs. He took on a second part time job in his senior year, and his grades suffered, and there's no way he can keep on top of college classes while working 70 hours of manual labor a week. But I've met him, and I really think he just needs a break. He's a good k**, but he's shy. You've got a way with coming through for some of these k**s. Do you think you can help him? Just talk to him, and you'll see what I mean."
    I sighed loudly on the phone. "Can you lay the guilt trip on any thicker?" I asked.
    Marie knew I couldn't pass a hard luck case without helping. It's part of the reason I became a guidance counselor in the first place. I always loved helping people, and watching k**s go from lost to finding a purpose in their lives was always incredibly rewarding. If it wasn't for the administrative bureaucracy, I might even still be working, but the incessant red tape became frustrating and made the job damn near impossible at times.
    "I can set up a meeting," Marie offered. "After you meet him, I'm sure you'll want to help."
    "So, he's in a catch-22," I said, processing all the information Marie had given. "Take out the loans, and he doesn't have time for class anyway, and he'll probably flunk out and be on the hook, for the loans. If he stops working, he can get loans and take classes, but he can't afford a place to stay. What exactly is it that you think I can do?"
    "I don't know. Just work your magic," Marie said brightly.
    "My magic. Yeah, just let me grab my witch's broomstick and book of spells," I joked.
    "I don't know. You always seem to figure something out. I'm sure you will here, too."
    I sighed one last time as I wondered what I was getting myself into.
    *****
    A week later, I walked into a cafe to meet Dion. Marie had provided his contact info, and, after a few phone calls and texts, he agreed to meet on Tuesday afternoon at a café close to campus. As I stepped through the door, I saw a young black man, about 5'11" and 175 pounds waiting nervously at a table. He was the only black person in the café, and his eyes studied me, seemingly trying to figure out if I might be his appointment.
    "Hi, I'm Diana," I said with a warm smile as I extended my hand.
    "Uh, I'm Dion. It's nice to meet you," he answered. He shook my hand, but his voice was soft and lacked any confidence or conviction.
    I took a seat with him at a small round table, and we ordered some coffees. He had dark features and looked strong and clean cut. His curly hair was cut short by a razor, and he looked freshly shaved. He dressed in nice slacks and a polo shirt. I couldn't discern if this was his normal attire, or if he dressed especially for this occasion.
    "So, Marie tells me you want to go to college," I began.
    "Yes, ma'am. I'd like that. I like criminal justice. I'd like to get a degree so I can work in that field."
    "Why criminal justice?" I asked, trying to gauge how serious was his pursuit.
    "Well, I think it's interesting. And where I come from, sometimes life is tough. A lot of gangs, a lot of d**gs, and I seen a lot of my friends end up on the wrong end of a gun or knife when they didn't do nothing wrong. I want to do my part to try to clean up those streets and make it a safe place to live."
    His voice gained confidence as he spoke. It was clear he'd given a lot of thought to his aspirations and that those goals filled him with purpose.
    "So, what do you need to do to make that happen?" I followed up.
    "That's what I don't understand. The college costs ain't a big deal. I know I can get a Pell grant. That's the easy part, but short of free room and board, I don't see how. These two jobs I'm working got me running around like crazy all week. I ain't got no time to take classes. I'll do the work; I ain't afraid of that. But rent ain't cheap, you know. I need my car to get to work and to class. I ran into someone a year ago, messed up some rich dude's ride. My insurance only covered part of the damage. I'm still on the hook for the rest, so I'm paying through the nose on car insurance and still paying that dude off. And I got sickle cell, so I'm in the hospital about once a year, and now I'm paying that note, too. It's just bills, bills, bills. This whole adulting thing ain't no joke."
    Marie was right. This k** had some tough breaks and a huge hole to climb out of. Nothing is impossible, but most people have a short period in their lives after high school to try to get set on their feet. The whole key to life is to have a skill set. Whether you get a degree, a certification, or make/ sell something, you have to have a special skill or talent to get ahead in life. If you don't get set on a good path in young adulthood, it can be hard to recover as marriage and k**s come into the picture. Some people do make something of their lives, but many don't because it's a thousand times harder, and Dion seemed to have the deck stacked against him through little fault of his own.
    "Isn't there someone who can help you out? An aunt or uncle? A brother, sister, or cousin? Grandparent?" I pointed out.
    Dion shook his head. "My pop's in prison. I never even met my grandparents on his side. God knows where my mom is. Ain't seen her in 4 years. God knows my grandparents on my mom's side. He's got them up in heaven with him. I'm the oldest. My brothers and sisters are still in foster care. I got a cousin, but she's shacked up with a d**ggie. Ain't no one else. So, you tell me what options I have?"
    "Girlfriend?"
    Dion scoffed. "I wish. Can't even afford to take care of myself."
    "It's okay," I conceded. "Having a girlfriend to split rent with might help. It can also distract you from classes. I've seen way too many k**s let their schoolwork slip for some girl. How about a roommate?"
    "I've got a roommate, and that's just a small piece of what I owe, anyway. Look, I want this. I don't see how right now, but if there's a way, I'll do it. I just can't be working in grease pits and mopping floors the rest of my life. But I'll do what I got to do to get there."
    "Okay, look. I can't promise anything, but let me make some calls," I told him. "Give me your work info. I want to check in with them. If they vouch for you, I know some people who often donate to the college. Maybe I can arrange for room/ board in place of scholarship. Now if I can get that arranged, you've got to promise to earn it. I'm sticking my neck out for you; don't make me regret it," I warned him sternly.
    Dion's eyes bled with gratitude. "You won't regret it," he promised, his eyes nearly tearing up. "If I got a place to stay, I can just work one part time job to cover my other bills. I promise you, if you can get me that deal, I'll make good on it."
    I smiled, admiring his determination as he pushed across a slip of paper with his current job info. "Okay. Give me about a week. Let me see what I can shake loose," I told him.
    ******
    First, I checked up with Dion's employers. One employer was a breakfast diner, and the other was a janitorial service, and both vouched for him, saying he was a reliable employee who didn't cause any trouble.
    I called Marie and had her send me a copy of his high school transcript, and I talked to his high school guidance counselors. Again, no red flags, and everything indicated he was just a hard luck case who needed a break in life. In fact, he was a good student, who probably could've gotten into 4-year colleges if he had the money. His story pulled at my heartstrings. He was dealt a crappy hand and had every reason to throw in the towel. So many other k**s in his situation either went for the allure of the street life or submitted to a lifetime of menial existence, and I was resolved to at least give him a chance in life.
    I was acquaintances with some of the larger college donors, and I contacted them if they could help, but all of them passed. I reached out to Section 8 to see if they could help him get subsidized housing, but the wait list was so long, it would take years to process his request. He probably wouldn't qualify, anyway, since he had no k**s and had income from two jobs.
    There was one last ditch option that I had intentionally avoided, but I didn't see any other way. My husband was away on business, but I called him and told him about Dion's case. I recapped his whole story from his time in foster care to his more recent struggles with medical bills and debts with no family to help.
    "God damn it, Diana, he's not our problem. Why do we have to help?" he complained.
    "Honey, his life is at a make or break point. He didn't have parents like we did. It's a miracle he's gotten as far as he has. Most k**s with his trauma and abandonment, they've got demons they can't overcome. He's still fighting to get somewhere and do something with his life. I'm afraid he'll be lost if we don't step in."
    "So, what are you suggesting exactly?" he demanded to know.
    I took a deep breath before I let the words come out. "I'm suggesting he stay with us for a while."
    My husband burst in mock laughter. "And what if it doesn't work out? What if he's a nightmare? If he steals stuff. Plays loud music at all hours. Makes a mess of the house. Throws wild parties. Invites over unsavory friends. Has a girlfriend that basically moves in with him. Or if he refuses to ever move out. What then?"
    "I'll set ground rules. I'll be responsible for all that, and you can blame me if I'm wrong about him. But I'm telling you, he's a good k**. We won't have any of those issues. Look, you're away over half the time on business, anyway. You'll hardly ever even see him."
    "I don't know Diana. " He paused for a long moment, his breathing the only sound coming across the line as he considered my proposal. "Fine, do it your way, but, if anything goes wrong, this is all on you. I don't want anything to do with it."
    I exhaled deeply as I hung up the phone. My husband clearly wasn't thrilled with the prospect of taking in Dion, but he relented in the end, and now my body shook with the prospect of that reality. I was sure taking Dion in was the right thing to do, but I knew it also played into my own greatest weakness. Taking in Dion was playing with fire with regards to my own predilections.
    I was widowed by my first husband over a decade ago, which partly led to my decision to retire early. After his death, I realized that life was too short, so I resolved to live life to the fullest. I remarried a few years back, and my husband is a dear, but he's frequently away from home on business, sometimes for weeks at a time. He provides well for us, but I realized after marriage that I was often left alone in the house. I traveled with him on a few of his business trips, but he's a workaholic, often pulling 12-hour days, so I was left mostly waiting around a hotel suite in a strange city for him to come back. After a few of those trips, I opted to at least wait for him in the comfort of my own home. That said, even when he's home, he still routinely works 12-hour days, so I'm left on my own a lot anyway.
    I've at least managed to keep myself in shape, watching what I eat and exercising regularly. I keep my auburn hair short, although, at 53, some greys are creeping in. I play with myself a lot, but I still find myself making excuses to stray from time to time. I figure my own physical affairs just counterbalance his emotional abandonment, so it all works out even in the end. Besides, what you don't know can't hurt you, I've reasoned.
    That said, I knew inviting Dion, a young man, to live in our house would play into all my worst temptations. I love my husband, but he is a few years older than me, and his work schedule doesn't leave time for staying in shape. Having a young strong man in the house would be nice, although I wondered if Dion would have any interest in an older woman like myself. Still, it wouldn't hurt to have some eye candy in the house and give me something to think about while I masturbate.
    Despite my own hesitancy, I knew I was talking myself into inviting Dion to stay with us. In my heart, I knew it was the right thing to do, but I also knew I was opening Pandora's Box. Nevertheless, I made up my mind and decided to accept the consequences, come what may.
    *****
    A week later, Dion and I were sitting at the same table again in the same cafe near campus.
    "So, what now? Did you find some help?" Dion eagerly asked.
    "I called a lot of people, and not a one was able to help," I started to explain.
    "I knew it!" he muttered in obvious frustration.
    "No, no wait," I tried to reassure him. "I don't give up that easy, and neither should you. None of them was willing to help, but maybe there's another option."
    Dion's ears perked up, although he appeared skeptical. He sat, his brows raised and his eyes laser focused as he waited for me to elaborate.
    "Look, this may sound strange," I continued to explain, "but you can move in with my husband and myself. We have a furnished basement. There's already a bed and a bathroom down there. Usually it's for guests, but it's yours if you want it. It's a walk out-basement, so you can have some privacy. You can stay, rent free, and we'll feed you. That way, you don't have to worry about housing costs. Then Marie can help you with the Pell Grant for tuition costs, and then you just need to work enough to cover your other debts."
    His face softened as he heard my proposal and realized that my offer was legitimate.
    "I - I -- I don't know what to say," he said softly.
    "Listen. There's ground rules if you live with us. I see your grades, and you've got to get good grades. No loud music, no d**gs, no drinking. No girlfriends staying over. Do your own dishes and laundry. Don't make a mess. Keep the basement clean. Any questions?"
    Dion's face showed that he was still processing the proposal, and I waited patiently while he considered it.
    Finally, he spoke, asking "How long can I stay?"
    "It's a two-year degree, right?"
    He nodded his head.
    "Two years then," I answered with a smile. "Provided you can follow the rules. Are you in?"
    "I'm in," he quickly answered.
    "Good. Classes start next week. The timing is tight, but I think Marie can pull some strings to get you fully enrolled. When do you think you'll move in?" I asked.
    "Is this weekend ok? I've got a co-worker at the diner. He's trying to move out of his mama's. He'd take over my lease."
    "That sounds perfect. This weekend it is. Here's the address," I said as I slipped him a piece of paper. "You already have my cell phone. Just let me know what time you'll arrive. Till then, good luck."
    ******
    Marie called me the next day, and she was excited to process Dion's paperwork to get him registered and enrolled. Then Saturday came, and Dion arrived just after lunch to move in. He drove a small older model Honda Civic hatchback, and his world of belongings fit in his car.
    "Nice house you got here, Mrs. -- "
    "It's Diana," I corrected him, "just call me Diana."
    He got his boxes and bags moved into the basement, and then he came up to see the rest of the house.
    "Where's your husband?" Dion asked. "I wanted to thank him, also."
    "Oh, he's out of the house," I breezily replied. "He's a senior engineer for an oil company. He's always off setting up new sites, so he's away a lot, sometimes for weeks at a time. He won't be back for at least another week."
    "Oh yeah, you mentioned that before. Must be nice for him getting to travel all around like that."
    "I suppose. Leaves me home alone a lot though."
    "Who's this? You got a k**?" he asked, pointing at an old family portrait hanging on the wall.
    "That's Bradley. He's 20 now. Not such a k** anymore. He goes to college far away from here He has to fly home for visits, but he's been doing an internship/ co-op at a corporation near his school for the past year, so it's been a while since we've seen him."
    "He's lucky to grow up with you," Dion observed, obviously struck by the opportunities our son had in life.
    A silence lingered after that last line, only interrupted by the sound drifting in through the open windows of the wind rustling through the leaves.
    "Alright, get settled in," I said, breaking the silence. "I'll have some dinner ready at 7 pm. You eat what I make, otherwise, you're on your own. There's snacks in the pantry. There's a TV in the den, and there's one down in the basement, too. Both have satellite and are connected to some streaming services. If there's anything else you need, let me know. Make yourself at home. Okay?"
    Dion nodded his head and then headed back to the basement to unpack his things.
    *****
    Dion got settled in over the next few days.
    He quit his job at the breakfast diner to free up his time to take classes during the day, but he kept his second janitorial job in the evenings to pay for his debt, car, gas, and insurance, although he cut back on his hours, so he'd have time to study. Since he had a friend to sublease his apartment, Dion was able to put the money he saved for next month's rent toward his tuition costs until his Pell grant came through.
    He was so excited Monday morning when he left for his first classes that he came home and pored over all his new books, already trying to work ahead.
    I admit it was nice having someone else in the house. With my husband away so much, a woman can get lonely. Just having someone to talk to was a pleasant change. At first, Dion kind of hid away in the basement, but, by mid-week, he became more comfortable spending time in the rest of the house. You might think that our 35-year age difference left us with little in common, but the community college gave us a shared topic, and we seemed to find a lot of other mutual interests.
    He spent a lot of time in the basement shirtless, and seeing his young, strong body like that, I have to admit, he looked physically tempting. The original trepidation I felt to invite him into my home proved prophetic.
    On Thursday that first week, I caught him swiping through tinder profiles on his phone.
    "You cut back on work hours, and now you've got all kinds of time to go chasing girls," I teased him.
    Dion just smiled sheepishly, knowing he'd been called out.
    "Look, I know a man has needs, but you're only in your first week of school," I warned him. "I've seen this story before. A boy gets hung up on some sweet thing, and next thing he knows, he spends all his time chasing after her, and then school gets left behind. Now you're in college, and you're supposed to be thinking with your brain and not with that," I said as I wagged a finger at his crotch. I could swear I saw the bulge in his pants pop out in response.
    "I'm sorry. I just -- I guess - before I didn't have time for a girlfriend," Dion stammered. "I didn't have time to think. I just worked and slept and worked and slept. And now I don't know. I'm sorry. You're right. I don't want to mess this up. I'm really thankful for everything you're doing for me."
    "It's alright. I know it's hard," I reassured him. "I get it. I was once young, too. But I pulled a lot of strings and had to really sweet talk my husband into letting you move in. I bet on you, so please don't fail me."
    We laughed about it and then sat down for dinner. Dion was starting to become more comfortable, like he was starting to feel at home, and I was happy to see that everything was working out so well.
    *****
    I got a call from my husband that weekend. There was trouble at another drilling site, and he had to go there to fix it, so he needed to stay another week to see them through. I was used to it by now, but it helped having Dion around, at least. We lived in a safe neighborhood, and I certainly never considered myself a helpless damsel, but the house feels big sometimes, and the emptiness and stillness at nights can fill you with fright and loneliness. Just having someone else there to bring comfort against the things that go bump in the night can make a huge difference.
    I had caught Dion on Tinder, but he wasn't the only one who had desires. It was never good when my husband was out of the house for long periods. I have way too high a sex drive to be left alone for long periods of time, let alone with a virile young man in the house. Dion was constantly shirtless in the house, though I would swear he was just raised that way, and that it was a sign he felt at home. Nevertheless, I found myself staring at his physique several times, and I'd almost swear he caught me admiring him a few times. After a while, I couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't just an accident that he was always shirtless in the house, and that maybe he was even showing off to me.
    During his second week, I went downstairs to call him up for dinner, and I clearly caught him unaware. I guess I should have called down or announced my presence in some way, but the tv show masked the sound of my foot steps as I descended the stairs and leaned over the railing to the sight of Dion laid out on his bed with his pants pulled down and his cock in his hands. I stopped in my tracks, transfixed by the sight of him jerking off. His cock was dark black, even darker than the rest of him, and it somehow looked dangerous in his hands, almost like a weapon. Then he caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye, and, clearly embarrassed, he panicked and pulled his pants up.
    "Dinner's ready when you are," I calmly said before I turned around and headed back up the stairs. Maybe I should've been embarrassed to be silently watching him in a private moment like that, but all I could think about was the image of his cock as he jerked off.
    We shared a quiet meal that night. Dion was clearly embarrassed, so he acted withdrawn, and we endured a painful awkwardness through the main course. As a guidance counselor, I was used to broaching uncomfortable subjects with people, so I sought to clear the air.
    "Dion, we need to talk about what happened earlier when I walked in the basement," I started off.
    His face went pale, as if he wished his body could melt and ooze back down into the basement to escape this conversation.
    "I'm sorry you - " His voice trailed off, the words failing him. Having come from a broken home, it's not surprising he was so defensive and scared.
    "It's alright. I'm not here to lecture you," I tried to reassure him. Dion sat dumbfounded and unmoving. "Look, I get it. We all have needs." His eyes grew as big as saucers. "It's ok. It's natural. We don't talk about it a lot, so that makes it seem weird, but it shouldn't be, right? Anyway, I already dissuaded you from having a girlfriend, so what did I expect? Everyone needs an outlet, right?"
    "I don't know what to say," Dion said, his face a look of confusion.
    "You don't have to say anything. You don't have to apologize. Actually, I should apologize. I didn't knock before I came down."
    "You weren't offended or anything by what you saw?" he asked in disbelief.
    I laughed. "You know, I've got some girlfriends that pay decent money to go to a club downtown about once a month to get a peek at what I saw a little bit ago."
    Dion smiled sheepishly, and I was satisfied I had sufficiently set him at ease.
    "Now how about some dessert?" I offered as I reached for the apple pie.
    *****
    The next day Dion and I were watching tv, and we got to talking.
    I saw him wag his tongue at some young blonde thing on one of those competition reality tv shows. She was obviously cast to be eye candy.
    "Is that the kind of woman you're into?" I openly asked him.
    "Oh, I don't know. She's alright," he answered, probably too shy to talk over those kinds of details.
    "I see what you like. Young and skinny. Can't say I blame you. She's a beauty," I agreed.
    "She's pretty. I mean, you ain't so bad. For an old woman and all."
    "Ouch," I winced, feigning hurt.
    "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, your husband's a lucky man."
    "You want to tell him that. He's been away for almost 4 weeks," I reminded him.
    An obvious sexual tension hung in the air between us. Dion had an awkward shyness about him, and I found it innocently endearing.
    "Have you ever had a girlfriend?" I asked, breaking the silence.
    "Of course, I have," he answered defensively, a little too quickly.
    "How long ago?"
    "Well, it wasn't anything serious. I mean, I hooked up with some girls at parties back in high school. I've been with women, if that's what you're asking."
    "It must be lonely," I told him.
    "What do you mean?"
    "I mean, growing up, you went into foster care and kind of bounced from family to family. Your mom disappeared. No stable presence in your life. No parental figure. No siblings. Then the next thing you know, you're working so much, there's no time for a relationship."
    Dion just sat there in silent agreement before speaking. "It seems you're lonely, too sometimes. What with your husband away so much and all."
    "It's ok. We all get lonely sometimes. I can understand why you were looking for someone on tinder. It's only natural to want some companionship," I conceded.
    "So, what then?"
    We sat staring across at each other. I knew my own weaknesses, and I was trying to read his face if he shared similar thoughts. The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself, but I bit my lip and then decided to plow ahead.
    "Can I be honest with you?" I asked.
    "What you think we've been doing?" he asked incredulously.
    "Do you find me attractive?" There, I'd put myself out there.
    He hesitated, and I rushed to fill the silence. "I mean, I know I'm a lot older than any of the women, really girls, that you're really interested in. But if you're lonely - and I'm lonely - well, I want you to do well in school. I could -- " I swallowed hard, trying to choose my words carefully, "We could be like friends with benefits."
    My proposal hung awkwardly in the air as Dion sat with a stunned look on his face. I saw him look me over, probably eyeing me sexually for the first time.
    "You can say no," I continued, again trying to fill the silence. "I'm not trying to force myself on you, I just thought maybe it could be... mutually beneficial."
    "So, what then?" Dion croaked, finally finding his voice, his face still in disbelief.
    Now it was my turn to sheepishly grin. "Well, I have a pretty high sex drive, to be honest. You could probably fuck me any time you want. I mean, I don't do anal, so don't go there. I have limits, but I enjoy taking care of a man, and I don't mind a man taking charge of me."
    "And what about your husband?" he asked.
    "What he doesn't know can't hurt him, right?"
    Both of us were shaking in nervousness as we waded in unchartered territory.
    "I mean, this is just so you can focus on school," I said, encouraged that he hadn't outright rejected me. "That way you don't need to spend all your time chasing after girls. Any time you need to get your rocks off, I can help."
    "Is that so?" he asked, clearly still pondering my proposal.
    Sometimes, the time for talk has passed, and it's time to act, and I decided we had reached that moment. I slid off the chair to my knees and scooted over to him until I was kneeling in front of him, looking up into his face as he sat in front of me.
    My hand reached up to his crotch and massaged the bulge in his pants as my eyes held his gaze. His cock visibly stiffened as I ran my hands over him, and I knew that we had passed the point of no return.
    "I like what I saw earlier. I wouldn't mind seeing it again," I said with a smile as my hands reached inside his pants.
    Dion gasped as my fingers wrapped around his dick. I turned my head down to see the head of his cock sticking out of his pants. I always love the contrast of my white skin against black skin, and I started jerking him off, watching his cock grow still larger. I had both hands wrapped around his member, and I felt Dion's hand rest on top of my head and then gently guide me toward his crotch.
    I opened my lips and took him into my mouth. His pubic hairs needed a trim, but his hard cock extended out so far, it wasn't really an issue, although it would keep me from deep throating him until he trimmed it. As my mouth and tongue worked the tip of his manhood, my right hand jerked off his shaft, and my left hand played with his balls.
    Dion moaned softly, and it spurred me to work him even harder, trying to drive him to an orgasm. I don't know if it was his youth, maybe it'd just been a while since he had masturbated to ejaculation, or maybe I was just that damn good, but, whatever it was, he didn't last very long. After just a few minutes, his entire body stiffened, and he groaned as he shot his load. I wrapped my lips tightly around his cock, and his warm spunk shot to the back of my throat, causing me to gag slightly. As he ejaculated a couple more shots of cum, the salty taste hit my tongue, and a small string of cum stretched from my lips to the tip of his cock as I released him from my mouth.
    "God damn, woman!" he exclaimed at the sight of me with his cum dripping from my lips.
    "I take it you liked it," I said with a sly grin, happy with his excited reaction.
    "I didn't know you were a freak like that." He looked at me in shock, as if he no longer recognized the woman who had just sucked him off.
    I laughed. "I think you'll be seeing a lot more of the freaky side of me."
    "I look forward to it."
    "I do have one request, though," I told him.
    "What's that?"
    "If you shave your pubic hairs, the next blow job I give will make your eyes roll to the back of your head," I promised him.
    "So, let me get this straight," he said. "Anytime I feel like I want sex, you're going to let me fuck you."
    I swallowed the thick glob of his cum that sat in the back of my throat. "That's the idea. I reserve the right to say no, and you'll need to respect that, but I have a pretty high sex drive. I don't think I'll be saying no that much."
    "I think I'll be wanting to tear that pussy up here in a bit," Dion said matter-of-factly.
    My pussy moistened as he brazenly talked about fucking me.
    "I'm looking forward to it," I replied with a wink.
    *****
    Dion was in the den watching a basketball game on tv while I laid in bed, thinking over what I'd just done. My heart was still racing, my mind replaying my actions an hour earlier when I knelt at Dion's feet and sucked him off to orgasm. The faint taste of his cum still lingered on my tongue, and my pussy moistened as I remembered seducing him. I knew I had originally taken on the role of a matronly figure in his life while taking him in and helping him get enrolled in college. And now, in one afternoon, I had shattered that view, instantly transforming myself from a motherly object to a sex object in his eyes.
    I told myself that I was just helping him focus on school and not spend all his time chasing girls, but, while there was a kernel of truth to that, I knew I had ulterior motives. Living in this house by myself for weeks at a time often left me feeling abandoned and lonely, and inviting Dion to stay gave me companionship. Having a husband who spends weeks at a time away, especially for a woman with a high sex drive, just led me to stray from time to time. I knew the minute I considered opening my home to take in Dion I wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to offer my body to him. He was young and virile, and the fact that he was black, added a taboo factor that turbo-charged my libido. My parents, like many of their generation, harbored a prejudice against black people, and, while I never shared their prejudices, I knew they would've disowned me if I dated a black man. The older I got, my attraction to the forbidden fruit of interracial sex became stronger, and black men became my greatest temptation.
    The other societal taboo I found myself breaking was taking an interest in younger men as I got older. I would never engage in anything i*****l, but I found young college-aged men just gaining their independence were the physically perfect mix of youth and virility. One of the nicest perks of my career as a guidance counselor was the regular contact with so many young men. There was only so much I could do without risking my job, however, I wasn't above innocent flirting with many of them. Now that I was retired, I had insecurities like any older woman about my aging body, so it was gratifying to know I could still attract the attention of a young man like Dion.
    Truth be told, my husband's body just isn't as sexually appealing as a young college man's body. My husband's long work hours have left him pudgy and soft, and age has left him sometimes needing assistance from a little blue pill to get it up, which just leaves me feeling like he doesn't even find me desirable anymore. While I know I'm no longer a young woman, I work hard to maintain my figure, and it hurts to see my husband not even get a hard on when I try to seduce him.
    My husband trusted me and assumed I had nothing but pure intentions in taking Dion into our home, and he would be devastated if he learned the truth. But now I had managed to bring my greatest temptation under my own roof, with my husband's knowledge nonetheless. In theory, this could work out to everyone's benefit. My husband complained about taking in Dion, but he has a big heart, and he always supported me in helping disadvantaged youth when I was a guidance counselor. For Dion, he gained a path to education and all the doors in life that a post-high school education could open. And, for me, I gained the companionship I desperately sought, as well as a way to satisfy my sexual needs.
    Still, I had sucked off Dion, but he hadn't fucked me yet. He seemed more than pleased at the prospect of having me as a sex object at his disposal, but I didn't want to disappoint him. I enjoy sucking dick and pleasing a man, but the pleasure needs to be mutual. I longed to feel him inside me, to feel his cock fill my pussy and drive me to an orgasm.
    I worried that he didn't take me right away after I sucked him off, but I knew he probably needed some time to recover. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if my 53-year-old body could still entice him. I worked hard to keep myself in shape, but I have greys in my auburn hair, and the wrinkles are no longer just laugh lines. There's only so much you can do to hold off the effects of time, and I knew I looked like what I was, a mature woman. Hell, some of my friends the same age or even younger are already grandparents. So, while my mouth was good enough for Dion to let me suck him off, was the rest of me good enough for him to fuck?
    I went to my closet and perused through my lingerie collection and carefully selected an outfit. It wasn't much of an outfit, but that was kind of the idea. I didn't want to leave anything to chance. I selected a sheer basque that hugged tightly to my body. My tits were clearly visible through the sheer black fabric, and the bottom of the basque hung at my waist, and I decided to remain bottomless; the lips of my shaved pussy were already wet with a thin sheen of moistness. I matched the outfit with a pair of sheer black stockings that attached to clips hanging off the bottom of the basque.
    I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. There was zero chance Dion could misinterpret my intentions when he saw me in this. Whereas I remained fully clothed while I sucked him off earlier, now my body was on full display, and I left nothing to his imagination.
    I sat there dressed and feeling my sexiest. I was horny and ready to fuck, but I heard the play by play from the basketball game blaring from the tv in the den where Dion waited. Should I go into the den and try to force myself on him? I wondered if that would come across as too desperate, although, in that moment, I knew I was a horny and desperate woman. Still, I worried if I came on too strong that I risked alienating him. He might decide I was an obsessed, crazed woman and move back out of my house. He seemed so shy earlier, though, I couldn't help but wonder if he needed some encouragement to gain enough confidence to take me.
    I decided on a middle ground between throwing myself at him and waiting for him to come find me. I pulled out the container under my bed where I kept my sex toys, and I pulled out a long black dildo. It was 8 inches of pleasure, and I stroked my fingers over it as I laid down on my bed. It was shaped realistically with a fleshy feel, from the head of the cock to the veins along the shaft and the balls at the end. I bought it several years back, and it had brought me many rounds of pleasure over the years, helping satisfy and fuel my interracial fantasies.
    I slid the dildo into my mouth as deeply as I could take it, wetting the shaft with my tongue. I remembered how Dion's member felt in my mouth earlier and deeply wished he'd come and take me. The 8' dildo was a little larger than Dion, and I couldn't take the whole thing without gagging.
    My horniness already had me on the edge before anything had even touched my pussy, and I pulled the dildo out of my mouth and placed it at the entrance to my vagina. The head of the dildo just barely touched my labia, and I already arched my back in response. I took a deep breath, and then I slid the long black phallic object inside me. A loud moan of satisfaction escaped my lips, and I pushed the entire length of the dildo inside until its balls were pressed against me. Then I held the dildo at full length inside and enjoyed the feel of its shaft filling my pussy, giving me the sexual gratification I'd been desperately seeking. I love having my clitoris stimulated, and that's still the easiest way for me to orgasm, but there's something incredibly satisfying about just having my pussy stuffed full of cock.
    "Oh God," I muttered.
    The door to my room was wide open, and I knew Dion was downstairs directly under me. I imagined it was already him inside me, and I closed my eyes and pinched my nipples with one hand as the other hand started pumping the dildo in and out of my pussy.
    "Oh Dion," I called out.
    I opened my eyes and saw the long black shaft sliding in and out of me, the dark chocolate color in stark contrast to my bald white pussy.
    I was so horny, already edging, and close to an orgasm. I closed my eyes and slowly moved the dildo, wanting to enjoy the feeling of being on the cusp for longer. I was edging so hard, I was barely moving my sex toy. Any faster, and it would push me over the edge, and I desperately wanted the current feeling to last as long as I could make it.
    "God, that feels so good," I called out. I'm a vocal lover, and I couldn't contain my arousal. The gasps and moans involuntarily tumbled out of my mouth. I couldn't contain myself. I didn't want to contain myself.
    I spread my legs wider as I continued to slowly plunge the dildo back inside me. I'd move it an inch deeper and then wait until I was sure I could slide it another inch without pushing me to an orgasm. My pussy was so aroused, my lips felt swollen to double their size and sensitive to the slightest sensation. The curvature of the head of the dildo. The veins and musculature on the shaft as it slid in. The touch of my fingers as I worked the dildo. How the skin on my fingers felt against my pussy. The hardness of my nails lightly scr****g against my labia. Just the air in the room as it blew over the wetness on my pussy. I felt everything, and everything turned me on.
    I was so close to a climax; I knew I couldn't hold back much longer. And now I no longer wanted to hold back. Now I wanted to feel the sweet release, and I stared up into the white ceiling as I plunged the last 3 inches of dildo into me, knowing full well what would happen. The tip of the dildo pressed against my cervix, and it was enough to push me over the edge.
    Now, I furiously pumped the dildo in and out of me as the orgasm washed over my body, determined to pump out every ounce of pleasure from my orgasm.
    "Oh, my fucking God!" I screamed, the surrender to my orgasm complete. I wanted to draw out every last ounce of pleasure from the orgasm, and I bucked my hips up and down, furiously fucking the dildo as my hand held it in place, desperate to be fucked as hard and fast as possible, wanting to feel every last bit of the climax course through my body.
    As I finally came down from my orgasm, my eyes drifted down, and I saw Dion standing mouth agape at the door. I can only imagine how obscene the sight of me looked with my legs splayed wildly and a large black dildo lewdly dangling out of my pussy. I could feel the large wet spot on the bedsheets under me, as I sat up and looked at him with an unashamed grin.
    This was the moment I wanted. This was the moment I feared. How would Dion react? I searched his face for clues, but all I saw was shock.
    "How -- how long were you standing there?" I hoarsely whispered across the room.
    "A couple minutes," he stated flatly.
    He was standing in the doorway, fully dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. I was suddenly fully aware of my nakedness. I left the door open, hoping he'd find me, and it had worked. He had a horny insatiable woman in front of him. Did the sight of watching me cum turn him on? Did it somehow repulse him?
    "I told you earlier you could have me any time you wanted. I guess I got tired of waiting. Did you like what you saw?" I asked, trying to hide my nervousness.
    "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he admitted.
    My heart was racing, and I moved to close the deal.
    "I'm ready to be fucked right now if you're ready for me," I offered.
    "You're ready?" he asked incredulously. "Looks like you're already done," he added with a laugh. "But I'm ready to hit that pussy. That's for sure."
    He spoke with growing confidence and stepped forward into the room, dropping his pants on the floor as he came toward the bed. He stood on his knees on the bed as I pulled his shirt up over his head and threw it on the floor, and he was left in his boxers.
    His manhood peeked out the front slit on his boxers, and my hands reached out to stroke it.
    "It looks like you're happy to see me," I happily observed.
    "I had no idea today would turn out like this," he said, shaking his head in disbelief while staring down at my naked body, my legs spread wide and my wet pussy inviting him to mount me. "I thought you were just a nice old lady. Now I know you're a freak. You wear this fancy lingerie just for me?"
    I nodded my head as I looked intently in his eyes while I pulled down his boxers. His hard cock sprung free, bouncing hypnotically right in my face.
    "You shaved," I remarked in surprise.
    "You promised me a mind-blowing blow job if I did," he reminded me.
    I laughed and then leaned forward and took his cock into my lips, letting the length of his shaft fill my mouth. Earlier, my dildo felt nice, but it was nothing compared to having Dion's cock, and I savored it. The feel of his cock throbbing in my mouth. The blood coursing through his veins pulsating against my lips. The taste of his pre-cum leaking out and landing on my tongue. With his pubic hair shaved off, I deep throated the entire length of his shaft, almost gagging, as my bottom lip rubbed against his balls.
    Then I opened my mouth and let him fall out.
    "If you play your cards right, you'll get plenty of blow jobs from me," I said with a mischievous smile. "I'd like to cum, too, though," I said as I laid back on the bed, spread my legs wider and spread my pussy lips to reveal my pink flesh for my young lover.
    Dion grabbed my ankles and raised my legs up as he pulled forward. I took his cock in my hands and guided him into me.
    "I've never done it without protection," he said.
    "Good," I replied. "Then I know you don't have any diseases. Neither do I. I promise you'll love how a pussy feels without a condom getting in the way."
    The head of his cock rested at the entrance to my pussy teasing me mercilessly.
    "For the love of God," I begged him.
    He laughed at my desperation, but he thrust his crotch forward, plunging his cock deep into me, and I shot up on my elbows and gasped in reaction. As I laid back down, he continued staring down at me, leering at my body. He stood with his cock buried in my pussy as his hands reached down and lowered the shoulder straps on my basque. Then he lowered my top until my titties were fully revealed.
    "There, that's better," he smiled in satisfaction as he started fucking me. He ran his hands along the smooth nylon of my stockings as my legs rested on each of his shoulders.
    "I like the look and feel of these," he said in amusement at my stockings. "You should wear these more often.
    I appreciated the compliment, but I was in no position to answer coherently as he eagerly fucked me. Earlier, I masturbated myself to an orgasm while imagining Dion fucking me, but now he was fucking me for real, and I was in heaven. Even though he didn't seem to have a lot of experience, he found a nice rhythm, and his cock pumped me hard and deep. He was in full control of me, and I wanted him to drive me to an orgasm.
    My hands reached up to his chest and then reached around back to feel his ass. He was built solid, and his body was firm to my touch.
    "You don't know what you're doing to me," I warned him.
    Dion laughed. "Oh, I think I know exactly what I'm doing to you."
    Without the support and form the basque gave my tits, they bounced around as Dion continued to ride me. I saw his eyes fixated on my titties as they bounced this way and that while he fucked me.
    "Oh, my fucking God," I screamed, arching my back, as my pussy stirred in arousal.
    "God damn, you're a horny woman!" Dion exclaimed.
    "Just fuck me. Just fuck me, please!" I begged him.
    He started pounding me just a little faster and harder, and my arousal intensified. I was so wet and approaching an orgasm. My breath became labored, and I laid my head back down on my pillow, resigned to not fight the impending climax. Earlier I had wanted to ride the edge of an orgasm as long as possible, but now I just wanted to feel the release, the explosion. I wanted to feel my own orgasm. I wanted to feel Dion cum inside me and have it dripping out of my pussy.
    I wanted him to mark his territory on me, to cum in my pussy, and claim me as his. In that moment, I belonged to him, and my hands gripped the sheets, my fingers dug in tightly, and I just concentrated on his cock as it drove in and out of me. Every inch of his young manhood brought me pleasure as it pumped in and out. His cock was throbbing and driving me quickly over the edge.
    "I'm gonna cum, baby, I'm gonna cum!" I cried.
    "You want me to cum inside you?" Dion asked.
    "Yes, oh God, yes!" I shouted.
    Was I replying to Dion's question or answering in reaction to my impending orgasm? It was probably a bit of both. Dion had me close, and he knew it.
    "I want to watch you cum," he said coolly, as he stared down into my face.
    I closed my eyes and focused on my orgasm. I was so aroused, I came after just a few more thrusts of his cock. Wordless moans and cursing fell from my lips. My body was electrified as the orgasm took hold, and I shuddered in response. My hands reached up to pinch my nipples as the orgasm crested, and I felt my pussy muscles spasming, and then they tightened around Dion's cock, and he grunted loudly as he thrust his cock one last time, impaling himself balls deep into me as he unloaded his seed deep into my vagina.
    I opened my eyes to the sight of Dion still towering over me, my stockinged legs still resting on either shoulder. His cock was quickly softening inside, but my body was still shaking after my orgasm. I was still trying to catch my breath; my tits gently rose and fell with my deep breaths as I recovered.
    "So now that you've had me. Do we have a deal? I'll be your fuck toy, and you focus on school?" I asked, my breath still labored.
    "I think I could get used to this," he answered.
    "So can I," I assured him. "it's going to be a fun school year."
    ******
    Recap
    Part 1 -- Diana, a 53-year-old married retired white female takes in Dion, a black 18-year-old recent high school graduate, into her home to help him afford to go to college. After moving in, they soon begin an affair while Diana's husband is out of the house and away on business.
    ******
    My husband warily eyed Dion during dinner. He arrived home yesterday, tired and grumpy from working for almost a month on an oil industry site start-up project that was not going well. Last night he fumed privately in our room as we were going to bed about allowing Dion to move in. I reminded him kindly that he left it to my discretion to invite Dion into our home, and I informed him of all the conditions Dion had to follow under our roof. I admit, it must've been a big change for my husband to come home and find a new person living under our roof. That said, I know my husband well enough to know that he was just blowing off steam and that Dion wasn't really the source of his frustration. His anger had a lot more to do with his work stress and nothing to do with anything Dion beyond his existence. Still, he never voiced his frustrations about Dion directly to him. Dion was, as my husband often reminded me, my problem.
    Dion, for his part, was reticent around my husband. My husband wasn't hostile to him, but he wasn't outgoing either, and I'm sure the fact that Dion and I were having an affair made it awkward for Dion. It was one thing when we were the only ones in the house while we carried on the affair, but my husband probably didn't seem real to him at first. And now that my husband was here in the flesh, it put our affair in a whole new light, and Dion was noticeably shy around me, as well. He mostly stayed in the basement and avoided my husband in those first few days.
    My husband icy façade started to thaw after he saw that Dion really was an okay k**. Dion was gone for most of the day in classes, and then he worked his part time job in the evenings, and my husband always appreciated someone willingly to work hard toward a goal. By the end of the week, my husband was calling up Dion for dinner and trying to make small talk with him to make him feel more invited and comfortable in our home. Dion noticeably relaxed, feeling more welcome in our home again, although he still seemed to avoid eye contact and talking with me.
    I, myself was happy, of course, to finally have my husband home again, but it was obvious that the dynamics of my affair with Dion had changed. Before my husband came home, we had a mutually beneficial agreement where he'd focus on his studies and not go chasing girls, and he could use me to relieve his sexual needs without all the effort and drama that goes into skirt chasing. Ostensibly, I was sacrificing my body to give him a better chance for collegiate success, although, if I'm being honest, I knew my motives were much more selfish than altruistic.
    I had started dressing up nicer around the house after starting my affair, wanting to keep myself presentable and desirable for Dion. I continued doing so after my husband came home, and he took notice of the change one night.
    "I noticed you're dressing up around the house," he said wryly, "not just lying around in sweat suits."
    "Oh, I just figured I should try to look nice for you," I quickly replied. "I didn't want you to forget about me after being away for so long," I said with a wink.
    "Luckily, Dion's only 18," my husband continued. "I'm sure he's chasing after some college girls. He can't appreciate a fine, older woman like yourself. But I certainly can."
    I laughed uncomfortably as he came onto me that night, and we made love. He's a good man, and I knew he needed some stress relief himself. I was sex starved myself with Dion becoming more withdrawn, so I welcomed the attention. My husband is a good man, and I want to be a good wife and please him but making love to him only reminded me what I wasn't getting from Dion anymore. I ran my hands over my husband's body, and all I could think about was how much firmer Dion's arms and legs felt in comparison. My husband's skin was leathery and wrinkled, becoming worn over the years, whereas I remember marveling at how smooth Dion's skin felt to the touch. I suppose I shouldn't be one to complain; I'm no spring chicken myself, but if given a choice, who would choose a body ravaged by time over one still basking in a youthful glow? They say beauty is only skin deep, but in a purely physical relationship, skin deep is all that counts, anyway.
    And Dion was black. I know a person's color shouldn't matter, and I don't let it influence how I treat anyone in life whether it be strangers or friends. But we all have our private proclivities, our kinks. For some people, it could be hair color like blondes or redheads, or it could be a sexy accent like eastern European or British, but for me, there's something I find incredibly attractive about other skin colors. My husband's pasty white body just doesn't hold the same allure as the contrast of Dion's dark skin against mine. And given the history of racism, there's still a taboo factor, even though I'm glad to see that interracial relationships no longer raise eyebrows like it did in my youth. Does my kink perpetuate racist tropes and stereotypes? I don't know. Maybe it does, but I figure if everything is consensual, then what is the harm?
    But I laid awake that night. I laid next to my husband, and even though he had just fucked me, and his cum was dripping out of my pussy, all I could think about was the young black man sleeping in the basement below, wishing that it'd been him instead.
    ******
    The next day, my husband was at work in his local office, and I finally confronted Dion about our relationship while he was home for a few hours between classes. I went down the stairs to the basement where Dion stayed, and I found him seated at a desk, diligently studying.
    "Dion, can we talk for a few minutes?"
    He turned around, and I saw the apprehension in his eyes. My years as a guidance counselor gave me a wealth of experience in reading people's body language and tone, which often helped me get to the root cause of behaviors. People's frustrations often manifested itself in other areas. In my experience, 90% of the time student issues could be traced back to d**gs, alcohol abuse, or relationship drama (girlfriends or family).
    I saw Dion's nervousness, and I tried to calm him down. "It's alright. I just want to talk," I reassured him.
    He slowly pushed his chair back from his desk and turned around to face me. "Alright, what is there to talk about?" he wanted to know.
    I started slowly, choosing my words carefully. "It seems that you've been avoiding me lately."
    "I -- it's complicated," Dion started to explain after taking a deep breath. I could tell he was also carefully choosing his words. "Ever since your husband got back, I just -- I feel guilty. I mean, you're his wife, and I'm staying in his house. You and me - it seems so - disrespectful."
    "I'm sorry you feel that way. But where does that leave you? I mean, are you back to swiping left and right on tinder?"
    Dion threw his head back in a hearty laugh. "I've been tempted. Haven't gone back there just yet."
    "What my husband doesn't know won't hurt him," I countered.
    "Don't you feel guilty about what you're doing?"
    "Like you said -- it's complicated. But my offer still stands. I still want you to succeed in school, and -- "
    "You make it sound like you offering to spread your legs is some great act of charity," Dion said in cutting me off. "It seems to me like you just want some dick up in your pussy."
    I blushed at his brazenness. "I'd like to think our affair was mutually beneficial and pleasurable."
    "You're a sly one. And a lot of fun." Then he doubled over and screamed in frustration before composing himself and continuing. "Ok, truth be told, I want to tap that pussy again. But I also don't want to mess up this chance at college. So, what happens if I don't sleep with you? Will you kick me out?"
    "Nothing bad would happen," I assured him. "I promised you a home for college, and as long as you adhere to the original conditions I set, you're more than welcome to stay here. I may just have to provide my own pleasure again like that first time when you walked in on me," I said, reminding him of the first time I seduced him.
    With that, I got up and started to make my way up the stairs, although I stopped and turned around halfway up.
    "If you ever change your mind," I told Dion, "I'll be waiting for you." I purposefully swung my ass like a pendulum as I walked up the stairs, and I looked back and caught him checking me out, to which he sheepishly looked away. At least if he didn't come back to me, I'd know it wasn't for lack of trying.
    ******
    My husband and Dion grew closer over the next few weeks. The next thing I knew, they were going out every weekend. From car shows to baseball and basketball games, they were always out and about. They'd come home at night after a long day going about, eating out at whatever sports bar, and bragging about their day's adventure.
    I hadn't seen my husband act like this in years and years. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if he just missed our son that badly. Brandon had been out of the house a few years by now, and it left us as empty nesters, which was a big change for both of us. Or maybe it was a second chance for him to be a father. With all the hours he put in at the office, he missed a lot of Brandon's games, plays, and recitals growing up, so maybe this was his way of atoning. Whatever it was, my husband clearly relished taking on a patriarchal role in Dion's life and sharing all the traditional manly interests with him.
    For Dion, he gained the father figure always missing from his life. My husband took him fishing and deer hunting for the first time in his life. You could see the excitement in his eyes at finally experiencing father/ son type bonding. After all the years suffering through parents who abandoned him and getting shuttled through the foster system, Dion soaked up all the attention and drank it all in.
    I know I should've been happy to see my husband and Dion bond so easily, yet I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Somehow, I felt like a third wheel, left out of so much of their activities. On weekends, I was left alone. I'd visit my girlfriends, and we'd go out for lunch and gossip like old hens, but I also spent a lot of weekends alone.
    Given my high sex drive, I ended up spending a lot of afternoons lying around naked with my plethora of toys. I'd run the gamut of my toys from vibrators to dildos to ben-wa balls. I'd take my big, black dildo and pretend it was Dion, just like I did the first time I seduced him. I made myself cum repeatedly, and yet, I never felt fully satisfied. I longed for the touch of a man. I longed to feel Dion inside me again. Still, I couldn't help but worry that maybe age really was catching up with me and, maybe Dion had his fun with me and no longer found me attractive.
    I wasn't above giving Dion little reminders of what he was missing out on, though. On weekdays, I always wore a dress or skirt that was above the knees and often without panties. I'd find opportunities to flash Dion. Bras are always so restrictive, so I never wear them at home, and I'd wear loose tops, finding ways to bend over in front of him and giving him clear views down my top. I caught him staring at my goods on more than a few occasions.
    Maybe it was desperation or denial. Maybe it was just my vanity or insecurity. I wanted the validation, to know that Dion still found me attractive. I know men are dogs, and I could've put myself out there and found another lover, but I had already seduced Dion once, and it was Dion I wanted a relationship with again.
    I think I could even accept it if I lost him to some young hussy. I know I'm no spring chicken, so I don't necessarily expect to win a beauty contest against some young thing, although what I now lack in youth, I'd like to think I make up for in experience. But that didn't matter because that wasn't the case, at all. It's like Dion abandoned me for a man. And not just any man, but my own husband. The indignity of it all.
    As close as Dion and my husband became, I also saw the grind starting to get to Dion. As the semester wore along and final exams loomed, Dion spent more and more time studying. I saw him struggling with some of the subjects, and the workload seemed to almost overwhelm him. He still worked part time, and I could tell he was struggling to keep up in some of his classes.
    Per the conditions I set for him to live with us, he shared his grades with me, and he was actually doing well, on track to get all A's and B's in his classes, but he was burning the midnight oil to keep up, and I saw the lack of sleep and hard work starting to catch up with him.
    One time I went down to the basement to offer Dion a snack, and I found him lying on the bed, having passed out while reading one of his textbooks. I silently descended the stairs and stood by his bedside for a few moments, just watching him breathing peacefully as he slept, the textbook rising and falling slowly as it lay open on his chest.
    I decided to take my shot. It was mid-day, and my husband wouldn't be home from work for hours. I crawled onto the bed, and Dion rolled over onto his side, the textbook tumbling off his chest onto the mattress. I placed my hands onto his shoulders, and he stirred slightly as I started giving him a massage. His strong shoulders were firm and muscular in my hands. He released a soft moan as my hands travelled up to where his neck met his shoulders. He shook his head and opened his eyes, turning around to see whose hands were rubbing him down.
    "What is -- " he groggily started, but the words trailed off in confusion.
    "Shh," I said, putting my fingers to my lips. "Just lay down flat and relax."
    "I don't understand, what are you -- " Dion started to say, as he regained his voice.
    "You've been working too hard," I interrupted him. "I thought you could use a little stress relief."
    I'm still not sure if it was my persuasion or his sleepiness, but Dion obediently rolled over flat on his stomach, and I crawled on top, my legs straddling his body. I ran my hands down his back, and his body shivered in response as he let out a deep sigh. As my hands slid down to his waist, I slipped them under his shirt, my skin directly on his skin, and the human touch clearly elicited a moaning response from Dion.
    "What the fuck are you doing to me?" he wondered aloud.
    I leaned my head down until I was breathing on his neck and then whispered in his ear, "I think you know exactly what I'm doing to you."
    As my hands crawled up his back, I pulled his shirt up at the same time. He raised his arms, and I pushed his shirt off with my hands as my legs continued to straddle his body. I sat back up and rested my weight on his back. I wasn't wearing panties, and my dress rose up, and my taint pressed against his skin. As I moved my crotch slowly against his back, I loved the feel of his skin in direct contact with my crotch.
    "Turn over," I told him. "Let me see you."
    I took my weight off him, and he slowly rolled over onto his back as I remained on top. His eyes locked into mine, as I leaned over until we were face to face. My top was loose, and I saw his eyes drift down to stare at my breasts.
    "Tell me you don't want me," I whispered.
    "How am I supposed to say no?" he openly wondered.
    "You're not," I plainly told him as I started nibbling on his ear.
    He moaned aloud, his body clearly responding to the attention I was giving him, and his hands reached to my back.
    "You've been making me wait," I continued. "And I've been such a good girl. I think you should reward me."
    "How is that?" Dion asked in a daze.
    I moved up on top of him until my pussy was directly above his face. A drip of wetness came off me and landed on his lips. His tongue eagerly took in the taste of my arousal.
    "Have you ever pleasured a woman orally?" I asked.
    "I haven't," he admitted.
    "Well, I figured, I gave you oral pleasure before....I thought it'd be gentlemanly of you to return that favor. Besides, there's a first time for everything, right?" I reminded him.
    I looked down and saw his face in a stunned expression, and his eyes transfixed on my vagina staring him in the face.
    "Open your mouth and give me some tongue," I instructed him as I lowered my pussy onto his face. His lips came into contact with me, and I was so aroused, my hands went down on the mattress to support myself from falling over. His fingers spread my sex, and his tongue reached out and started licking me, instantly sending all my nerves into sensory overload.
    "Oh God," I moaned. "It's been so long since a man went down on me like this."
    His tongue felt so good. He said it was his first time, but he was hitting the right spots. I stood still, holding my pussy in place for him to pleasure. I was pressed firmly against his mouth, desperately seeking the feel of his mouth and tongue against my sex organ, although I made sure not to suffocate him.
    I pulled my dress off while I sat completely naked on top of him as he continued to work my clit. His tongue was working magic on me, but I wanted more. I moved to the side and presented myself on all fours on the bed for my young lover.
    "Please," I begged him. "Fuck me."
    Dion slowly sat up, a smile on his face. "How horny are you right now?" His lips gleaned with my wetness.
    "Jesus, you've got a horny fucking woman on your hands. Please, just put your dick in me."
    Dion knew he owned me in that moment. He laughed so heartily at the realization, it almost scared me.
    He positioned himself behind me while I wiggled my ass in front of him and bent over farther until my chest was on the bed.
    "Please, I need to feel you inside me," I pleaded.
    His fingers ran over the length of my slit, and I shivered in response.
    "Your husband don't take care of your needs," he openly asked.
    "Not like you can," I admitted.
    He slipped a finger inside me. It wasn't a big, fat cock, but it was still enough to get my pussy dripping again.
    "Look at you already getting off. Just on my finger. What you gonna do when I shove my dick inside your pussy?" he wanted to know.
    "I'm going to scream my lungs out," I replied truthfully.
    "Well, let's see." The next thing I knew, his cock plunged deep into me, and I let out a primal scream. It's a wonder if the neighbors didn't hear it.
    "Careful there. Neighbors hear that, they're liable to think I'm hurting you and call the cops on us," Dion teased me. "What kind of woman are you, anyway?"
    "A horny one," I truthfully answered.
    "I move in and you practically beg me for sex. Is that why you invited me into your home? Do you get off on fucking black men?"
    "I -- I" I was breathless; my words failed me.
    "Answer me," Dion demanded to know as he fucked me even harder. "You like my black dick in your pussy, don't you?"
    "Oh God, yes! I do! I do! I do!"
    "It's all making sense now. I've seen you parading around here, flashing your bits to me every chance you get. You think I don't notice? What's a red-blooded man supposed to make of that? I see what you're about. Tell me what you like. Let me hear you say it," he demanded.
    By now, Dion was furiously fucking me from behind, his body slamming into me, his skin loudly slapping into mine as he rammed me with his cock.
    "Fuck. I love your black cock," I grunted each word between short breaths, barely able to spit them out. "I want your black cock. I want you to fill me with your seed. Oh God, make me your bitch."
    I was almost breathless as my arousal took control over my body. I quickly climaxed as Dion continued to fuck me mercilessly. My body almost went limp as he plowed my pussy right though my orgasm and slapped my ass as he continued fucking me doggy style.
    "How does my dick feel in you?" he demanded to know.
    "Fuck, I love it," I muttered.
    "You like that dick in your pussy?"
    "Fuck, I love that dick in my pussy!" I shouted back.
    "You want my cum in your pussy?"
    All my voice could offer was a quivering moan in response to the idea of Dion's cum planted deep in my pussy. There's a such a barbaric aspect to having a man plant his seed in me, as if he's marking his territory, claiming me as his possession. I'm long past my c***dbearing years, but the symbolism was not lost on me, and Dion was finally growing past the shy k** who originally moved in and learning how to become a man, learning how to take charge of a woman.
    "I can't hear you. You want my cum in your pussy?" Dion asked again.
    I finally mustered a response. "I want your cum. I want it dripping out of me," I answered between heavy breaths.
    Dion laughed at my eagerness. "Ain't you in luck? Your wish is about to come true."
    His hands gripped my waist, and he pulled me hard into his crotch as he thrust forward, impaling himself deep inside me and grunting loudly as he ejaculated, his cock pulsing with each shot that filled my pussy with his warm, sticky cum.
    I tightened my pussy around his cock, trying to coax every last drop out of him until he released his grip on my waist and his member softened. After he pulled out of me, he laid back on the bed next to me while I rolled over and laid down on my back. We laid there quietly, the only sound being the dishwasher softly running above as both of us tried to recover from our fuck session.
    "You know, your husband's probably going to find out at some point if we keep doing this," Dion said, finally breaking the silence.
    "Not if we're just a little careful. You know, it's not like you have to choose between me and my husband," I reminded Dion.
    "I know, but he's been so nice to me, and I feel like -- like I'm betraying him," he reasoned.
    "You ever had a woman offer you sex on demand whenever wherever you want," I asked him.
    "No, I haven't," he admitted. "Are you still telling me you're just doing this in support of my education?"
    "Are you really going to turn down a woman who offers you sex on demand."
    "On demand? What are you, like the cable movie service?" Dion jokingly asked.
    I laughed. "Something like that. Except they charge you a fee for their service, and I'm offering up myself for free, no strings attached."
    "They say there ain't no such thing as a free lunch," Dion wryly pointed out.
    "Tell yourself what you want," I told him. "But I think we both come out ahead in this arrangement."
    Dion nodded his head. "Okay, I give in."
    "You make it sound like fucking me is a punishment," I said, a hurt look on my face.
    "It ain't that, I can promise you."
    "I'd rather you show me," I teased him.
    Dion laughed. "Ok, I got to go to work in an hour. But first, I'll go to work on you," he said with a wink.
    I was lying on my back on his bed, and I spread my legs for him as he stood on his knees in front of me, leering over my naked body. His cock dangled before him, a black, menacing object that could fulfill all my dark, hidden desires and already had my pussy dripping again. He lifted my legs onto his shoulders and penetrated me, slowly sliding in his cock, an inch at a time until he filled my pussy balls deep.
    "Is this what you've been wanting?" he asked as he held his manhood fully buried, his cock pulsing lightly every few seconds inside me.
    "Yes. Please fuck me." I hoarsely whispered.
    "What is it you want?"
    "I want your black cock, please. I want to be fucked."
    "Look at you talking all dirty. Respectable woman like yourself got your legs all spread and a black cock buried in that lily-white pussy. Ain't that so?"
    Dion slowly started grinding me. I was so aroused; every movement of his cock increased my stimulation. I'd longed for him to fuck me for so long, it didn't take anything for him to get me off. His hands ran up and down my legs as he kept my feet propped on his shoulders. First he ran them up the outside of my legs, and then he ran them do the inside of my legs, and as his hands reached over my inner thighs and closed in on my pussy, he was entering my erogenous zone, and my sexual stimulation jumped to overdrive.
    "Last time I fucked you hard. This time I'm gonna take you slow and enjoy the ride," he informed me.
    I looked up into Dion's face. I was on my back, legs spread and raised as he fucked me nice and slow. He seemed to be studying me, taking in every sigh and moan that slipped from my mouth, watching my tits softly bounce as he ground his cock into me, and watching me slowly surrender to my arousal. I had no shame, not in front of him, and I climaxed with my eyes closed and my back arched as his cock continued to pound away at me.
    "Yeah, you like that, don't you?" Dion asked rhetorically. "That's hitting the spot, ain't it?"
    "Oh God, you're fucking me so good, honey, so fucking good," I cooed back to my young lover.
    I relaxed as the orgasm passed through my body, but Dion continued fucking me nice and slow, his long, black cock pulling in and out of me like a slow-moving piston. After a few minutes, though, he stopped, and I opened my eyes, wondering if he had somehow ejaculated, and I didn't feel it.
    Dion pulled out of me, and then he walked on his knees while straddling my body until his cock was dangling right in my face. His cock was coated in my juices; the odor filled my nostrils, and his cock glistening before my eyes, glowing radiantly. It was clear what he wanted, and I opened my mouth to oblige him.
    Dion thrust his cock forward as I opened my lips, and suddenly I had a mouthful of cock. I tasted my own juices as my tongue ran over his manhood and teased its tip. Our eyes locked as I lay there with his cock stuffed in my mouth and his balls pressed against my chin. He smiled, obviously enjoying the sight of me struggling to take him all in. I tried to say something, but I couldn't produce anything more than wordless mumbles, and one hand reached down to stroke my hair while the other reached behind to tease my tits.
    "You look so beautiful with your lips wrapped around my cock," Dion observed.
    I'm not sure that beautiful was the right word choice, but I was determined make Dion cum and keep him coming back for more. It took a lot of effort on my part to get him to let down his defenses after he had bonded with my husband, and I didn't want to lose any of the gains I had made that afternoon.
    So, I sucked on his chocolate bone, bobbing my head back and forth over him, my tongue lapping his cock and my lips keeping a tight fit around him. Dion must've enjoyed my skills because soon he pulled my head forward into his crotch while he started throat fucking me faster and faster. With my lips tightly wrapped around him, he came quickly, his cum shooting to the back of my throat as his hands held my face tight against his crotch.
    I finished off Dion, taking his cum in my mouth, the salty taste of his concoction lathered on my tongue. I was still lying on my back on the bed while Dion towered over me. As I pulled my head back from his cock, I looked up and saw him staring down at me, his look telling me full well that I belonged to him.
    Shortly thereafter, Dion gathered his clothes off the floor and got dressed for work. I laid naked on his bed, pulling the blanket over my naked body to keep warm against the cool basement air.
    "Remember," I reminded Dion as he put on his shoes. "You can use my body whenever you want, but a woman has her needs, too. Don't keep me waiting."
    He just looked back at me with a big, silly grin on his face and shook his head before climbing the stairs to leave.
    *****
    After that afternoon encounter, it's like the dam broke. Dion still went out on the weekends with my husband, but he was mine during the week. Dion had at least a 2-hour break between classes each day, and it was only a short 5-minute drive from the campus to our house, so it afforded us daily opportunities for fuck sessions. We settled into a regular routine where he'd come home, and I'd be waiting for him, often dressed up in lingerie. We took to role playing. Sometimes I'd be dressed up professionally in a nice blouse, skirt, and nylons, pretending to be his teacher. He'd be my student, and I'd let him undress me, unwrapping me like a Christmas present, enticing him to work harder in class by offering my body. Or sometimes I was the lonely housewife that he accidentally stumbled upon. I'd patiently wait for him just inside the front door, completely naked except for a pair of stockings. I'd have my legs spread and either be fingering myself or playing with a toy, making sure I was wet and horny for my young lover to mount me as soon as he arrived.
    Dion seemed to have gotten over his guilty conscience. I guess it was an all or nothing thing. Once he formed a bond with my husband, he initially didn't want to cross that line and continue the relationship with me. But, once he crossed that line again, whether he fucked me once or a thousand times, the line was crossed.
    I know I should have felt my own guilt, but I guess sometimes I think as much with my pussy as I do my head. Anyway, it seemed to be working out for everyone. As I always pointed out, what my husband doesn't know can't hurt him. Besides, my husband and Dion still maintained their bond, and I gained someone to fulfill my sexual needs.
    My husband, the big teddy bear that he is, didn't seem to notice anything untoward between Dion and myself. In fact, it was even the opposite.
    "It seems that Dion has adjusted to school pretty well," he remarked one night while Dion was at his part-time job.
    "Oh, really," I responded. "What makes you say that?"
    "Well, a little while back, the class workload and stress seemed to be getting to him, but he's been more relaxed lately. I think maybe he's got the college thing figured out."
    "That's good, dear. I'm really glad it's working out, us taking in Dion."
    "I am, too. He's a good k**. You were right about him," he admitted. "He just needed the right environment for success."
    "I'm glad we could give him that environment. I think all of us are doing everything we can to help him succeed, so I'm glad our efforts are paying off," I breezily remarked. I couldn't help but wonder what my husband would think if only he knew what everything I did for Dion truly entailed.
    *****
    A few weeks later, my husband and I were alone and getting ready for bed in our room.
    "You set a rule with Dion, no girls, no relationships, right?" my husband asked.
    "Well, he's not allowed to have them over, at least. We can't control what he does outside our home. I just wanted to make sure that us taking in one person didn't become taking in two. But what's got you asking the question?" I replied.
    "I had to go down to the unfinished area in the basement to get some stuff, and I saw some women's stockings sticking out from under his sheets.
    I remembered my afternoon tryst with Dion just a few hours earlier. I'd worn stockings, and he ripped them off me in the middle of our passionate lovemaking. After we were done, Dion hurried off to work, while I scurried back upstairs to get dressed before my husband came home. I now realized that in my haste, I'd left my stockings there.
    "You haven't seen him bringing any women home then?" my husband asked.
    "No, I haven't."
    "Are you sure? His sheets, I mean, they smelled kind of like -- "
    "Honey, he's a young man," I interrupted. "You know how they are. He's probably masturbating whenever he thinks we won't notice, and he's probably bad at cleaning up afterward like most boys are," I pointed out.
    "You don't think he's a cross dresser or something, do you?"
    "What?"
    "The stockings. Why the stocking," my husband pondered.
    "Look, he probably just met some girl at a party or something and kept her stockings like a trophy," I suggested. "He's a good k**. He wouldn't break our rules."
    "Yeah, you're probably right," he concluded. "That dog. He probably found himself some floozy. Can't say I blame him. He's young and good looking. He should be playing the field. And now that he's got a future, he'll probably have woman throwing themselves at him. He probably found himself a real slut. Someone who just spreads her legs at will for him. Good for him. He's been working hard; he deserves it. I hope he's fucking her for all she's worth."
    I laughed a little too uncomfortably. My husband could be really crass at time, but he had no idea how close to the truth he hit. Or who that slut Dion was fucking for all she's worth really was.
    ******
    Part 3 – Diana Meets Dion’s classmate, Darius

    It was one of those fall days where the weather can’t seem to make up its mind. You grab a thick coat in the morning because it feels like winter, but you want to change into shorts and a tee shirt by the afternoon. At that moment, it was afternoon and gorgeous outside with nary a cloud distorting the deep blue skies. A refreshing breeze blew into the house through the wide, open windows and also allowed the sounds of the neighborhood to seep in. The noise from a lawn mower running a few doors down, the rush of tires on the pavement as the occasional car drove by, and the idle chatter of the old retired folks taking their daily neighborhood walks alternately filled our home at various times.
    “School seems to be keeping you busy lately. Are you making friends at school?” I asked Dion.
    We were making small talk while he casually fucked me in the living room. Dion had just gotten back from his morning classes, and I had just returned from running errands, and we were catching up. I was lying on my back on the sofa, my head on an arm rest and my legs spread wide with one hanging off the edge and the other pointed straight up and propped against the seat back.
    “I don’t know about friends, but I’ve got a partner for a group project,” he responded languidly as he slowly pumped his hard cock into me.
    “Who is he? Or she?” I asked, trying to sound conversational, but my breath was growing short and labored.
    Dion laughed. “He’s a he. Darius is his name.”
    “Oh, that’s nice. How did you meet? How did you get paired up? By choice or were you assigned to work together?”
    “By choice. We went to the same high school. I didn’t know him real well back then, but it’s nice knowing a familiar face, and we ended up in a lot of the same classes, so it just made sense to work together.”
    My husband was away on business again this week which freed us up to openly continue our illicit affair. Dion had overcome his initial reticence after meeting my husband, and now he fucked me whenever he wanted, which was at least twice, if not three or four times a day. He was insatiable, which perfectly matched my own sex drive.
    By this point, I was highly aroused and quickly abandoned any pretense of keeping up our conversation. I could hardly contain my moans of pleasure as they began to involuntarily escape my mouth. At first, I was able to keep them under my breath, but they slowly grew into soft moans and sighs as my defenses weakened. I looked down, and I gave up on any effort to dampen my moans after catching sight of my lily-white legs obscenely splayed and Dion’s hard black cock disappearing into my mature white pussy.
    Dion looked down in amusement at my helplessness.
    “Careful now. You wouldn’t want the neighbors to hear you,” he warned me.
    Dion was right, of course. I didn’t want the neighbors to hear me. I was retired, just like the old couples walking past our window, even if I was younger than most of them since I’m still only 53. I was a respected member of the community, a longtime counselor at the local college, and my husband was a well-respected businessman. We lived in a nice, comfortable community. It wasn’t a gated enclave, but we were solid upper middle class.
    Dion was my little secret. I had a high sex drive that my husband couldn’t satisfy, and, anyway, my husband’s always more interested in his work than me, often disappearing on out of town assignments for weeks at a time. It all just leaves me lonely at home, and life is too short for that. I jumped at the opportunity to bring Dion under our roof a few months ago and we’ve been regularly having sex ever since.
    I know it’s wrong, but that’s part of what fuels our affair. Our relationship is forbidden on so many levels. I’m a married woman more than 30 years older than him. If my neighbors had any idea how Dion and I carried on behind closed doors, I’d be the scandalous talk of our quiet neighborhood.
    I couldn’t help but wonder what little secrets my neighbors kept hidden behind their closed doors. So many put up a prim and proper façade, trying to maintain an air of respectability. And yet, we all have skeletons in our closet, that secret we wish to remain buried in the past, that secret pleasure, addiction, or urge we struggle to control. I shudder to think how vanilla a plain life on the straight and narrow would be with nothing illicit, daring, or forbidden to spice it up. Life is boring when you always color within the lines, and sometimes it’s good to push the boundaries and step out of your comfort zone.
    Dion pulled his cock out of my pussy, and I sighed in disappointment as I immediately missed the feel of his hard member filling me up. I looked at him with pleading eyes, and he lightly tapped his fingers against my swollen, aroused pussy as I sat up and gasped in response.
    “You’re getting too loud for your own good. I saw that old couple around the corner turn their heads. I think they heard something They were talking amongst themselves, but it’s probably best if we quiet you down a little bit.”
    As he said this, Dion moved directly in front of my face, and I instantly understood how he intended to shut me up. His massive cock stood at attention, temptingly staring me in the face. The veins were popping out of his engorged cock, and my eyes followed the head of his cock as he flexed and let it dance hypnotically before my eyes.
    I opened my lips and leaned forward to take him into my mouth. I inhaled the unmistakable odor of my own juices coated over his cock and balls. I’m always amazed how wide I have to stretch my mouth to accommodate his member, and the oddly metallic taste of my own juices tartly hit my tongue as the head of his cock reached to the back of my throat. I almost gagged, but I suppressed the reflex and then started working him over.
    “There, there, problem solved. I knew that trick would work,” Dion smugly observed.
    I tried to speak my agreement, but it just came out as a low gurgle with my mouth stuffed full of his cock. I let my tongue work over his member. I kept my lips pressed tightly around his cock as I moved my head back and forth along his shaft. I felt the blood rush to his cock and knew he enjoyed my skills. I let my hands wander up and run over his chest as my mouth pleasured him below.
    “Ooh, you make it feel so good, Diana,” he complimented. “You’re gonna make me shoot my load inside your mouth.”
    I briefly let his cock fall out of my mouth with a loud smack of my lips. “That’s kind of the idea,” I responded before immediately taking him back into my mouth to resume sucking him off.
    “You know how to satisfy a man, don’t you? How to really make a man feel like a man,” Dion remarked.
    I didn’t bother to respond this time. The way his cock was responding to the blow job I was giving him told me all I needed to know. Soon, Dion’s body tightened, and I knew he was close. I always love getting a man off, knowing that I made him cum, and Dion was no different. Knowing he was close to an orgasm just propelled me to suck him off even harder. My head was bobbing furiously on his cock as my hands cupped his balls and my nails teased his taint.
    The next thing I knew, Dion’s hands pushed my face against his crotch as his cock reached to the back of my throat as he spurted his cum. It shot out in a stream, ricocheting off the back of my throat and filling my mouth cavity as my tongue continued working over his cock, coaxing every last drop out and then spreading his cum and my saliva all over his shaft.
    As he finished ejaculating, I pulled my head off his cock, and a string of cum stretched six inches from my lips to the tip of his cock. I opened my mouth to show Dion the pool of his cum resting on my tongue before I closed my mouth and swallowed his load clean.
    “Let me clean you off,” I croaked, still trying to find my voice after having my mouth stuffed full of cock the past few minutes.
    I leaned forward and took his cock back through my lips. He was already softening, but even semi flaccid, he still filled my mouth, and I closed my eyes as I dutifully worked my lips and tongue over his member. Dion’s hand stroked my short auburn hair, and I opened my eyes and looked up into his appreciative eyes and smiled as I held him in my mouth.
    “Like I said, you sure know how to really make a man feel like a man,” Dion reiterated.
    I held him in my mouth till I had licked him clean and no longer detected any vestiges of his cum or my juices before letting him slip out from my lips.
    I sloppily wiped my lips clean with my arm and then lifted his cock back up with my hand for inspection before declaring, “There, there, all ready for work.”
    Dion just chuckled. “You’re spoiling me, you know.”
    “Nonsense. The pleasure is all mine. I’m just happy to be of service.”
    “You keep this up, I may have to figure out an excuse to go for a second and third degree,” Dion joked.
    “That sounds like a lovely idea,” I concurred, thinking how nice it would be to stretch our arrangement beyond his current two-year associate’s degree program.

    ******

    Dion headed off to work shortly after we finished our afternoon session. He still cleaned office buildings after hours to keep a cash flow coming in, although he only worked a few nights a week now, so he could better focus on his studies.
    It was such a lovely afternoon, I decided I would take a neighborhood walk. We live in a large development with endless sidewalks that provide for nice strolls, so I put on some comfortable walking shoes and took in the charming fall afternoon.
    The leaves on the trees were just starting to turn, and many people were out taking advantage of the pleasant weather. The sidewalks were filled with a steady stream of walkers and joggers, and I joined their numbers. Many of my neighbors were also out and about. Working on their yards. Reading a book. Mowing. Landscaping. Forever plucking weeds. Just sitting in a rocking chair watching the parade of passersby’s.
    Just ahead, I saw Kathy, a neighborhood acquaintance talking with her next-door neighbor, Emily.
    “Diana,” Kathy called out, “it’ s so lovely to see you.”
    I stopped as I approached them.
    “How are you ladies doing? Gorgeous day out, eh?” I said as I approached.
    “That it is,” Kathy agreed. “Don’t get too many of these in a year. Have to take advantage of it, though, and enjoy the sunshine. It’ll be winter before you know it, and we’ll all be wishing for a perfect day like this again.”
    “Diana, have I seen, do you have a young man staying with you?” Emily asked in curiosity.
    “Yes, we do. He’s a student at the community college where I worked,” I informed them.
    “I didn’t realize you had taken in a student,” Kathy remarked, seemingly taken aback.
    “Still helping out the youth of America, I take it then,” Emily remarked.
    “Oh, it’s nothing really,” I said, playing it off, although I was growing suspicious of their intentions.
    “I must admit, you’re a braver soul than me,” Emily stated.
    “However so?” I countered.
    “I mean, opening your home to a perfect stranger like that,” Emily continued, explaining herself. “I can’t even imagine. You never know what you might be taking in. He could be a drunk or a d**ggie. He could be violent or a r****t. I could never.”
    “Oh, hogwash. Dion was a model student in high school. Perfect record, no truancy. Really, taking him in wasn’t any danger,” I retorted.
    “But, he’s… you know,” Emily protested.
    “No, I don’t know,” I said, growing indignant.
    “He’s black,” Emily answered rather quietly.
    “Really? Is that a problem? In this day and age?” My voice was raised, and Kathy and Emily were clearly taken aback by my tone, but I knew exactly what she was hinting at, and I was incensed.
    “No, I suppose not, but, it’s, you know, you just need to be careful. I mean, you know how people talk,” Kathy admitted, as she quickly tried to defuse the conversation.
    “Let them talk. His name’s Dion, and he’s a person, just like the rest of us. He’s worked his tail off to get as far as he has in life, and he’s earned everything that’s come his way,” I insisted.
    “Diana, I hate to mention this, but I have to tell you.” Emily cautiously looked both directions to ensure no one else was within earshot before proceeding. “Were you out of the house earlier?”
    “Why yes, I ran to the store to pick up some things,” I admitted, curious why Emily was asking.
    “Well, it must’ve been while you were out running errands then. I went by your house earlier while taking a neighborhood walk, and…” Emily hesitated for a long moment before proceeding. “I heard noises coming out of your house. The windows were open, so I wasn’t snooping or anything, but the noises, you know, some people have no shame. Anyway, I think he’s sneaking young women into your house while you’re away and having sex with them.”
    “Oh my!” I was mortified, but not for the reasons that Emily and Kathy assumed. She must have heard me and Dion together earlier. I must’ve been home when Emily walked past, although I was too busy with Dion’s cock stuffed inside me to notice.
    “I would be horrified if there was any sex happening in my own house,” Kathy announced irately.
    I suppressed a chuckle as I could only imagine how frigid Kathy must be. I’m sure her husband appreciated her aversion to the pleasures of the flesh.
    “I could see Dion through the window, clear as day, and he was obviously… in heat with a woman. I just saw the woman’s leg sticking up over the back of the couch. But he was having sex. Right there in your living room. Are you really okay with that?” Emily asked incredulously.
    You have no idea how okay with it I am, I thought to myself. I maintained my composure, although I made a note to look into installing privacy windows so people can’t look in my home so easily.
    “Just be careful, Diana. We don’t want to spread any gossip, but, you know, maybe Dion’s not the angel you think he is,” Kathy persisted in a concerned tone.
    Or maybe I’m not the naïve innocent helpless damsel you assume me to be, I thought to myself. And I loved how they say they don’t want to spread gossip when they’re the neighborhood gossip queens.
    “I thank you, ladies, for your concern,” I replied, biting my tongue in the process. “I need to get back on my walk, but I’ll definitely keep a close eye on Dion,” I promised them.
    As I continued on my way, all I could think about was how Emily had heard and even saw me having sex with Dion just a little while earlier. My mind was abuzz with thoughts that I’d been playing too recklessly in my affair with Dion. Kathy and Emily would’ve been horrified to learn that Dion’s secret lover was me, but, if they had figured it out, then word might make its way back to my husband, and that’s the last thing I wanted. I know I was playing with fire. I always say that as long as everyone is consenting adults and no one is getting hurt, then live and let live. I enjoy Dion’s company, and even though my husband would be devastated to know my true relationship with Dion, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.
    Knowing that Emily heard me having sex also turned me on, though, and I walked faster as I became more and more wet down below the more I thought about it. I cut my walk short and hurried back home to play with myself while I waited for Dion to come back home that night.

    ******

    I anxiously waited in bed for Dion to come home from work. I was dressed in a see-through black negligee, my ample C cup breasts fully on display and my neatly trimmed pussy peeking out from the bottom hem. My legs were covered in sheer black thigh high stockings, and I laid on the bed, playing with myself, keeping my pussy wet and my nipples hard as I waited with legs spread for my young lover to arrive.
    I had been teasing myself for quite a while using my fingers and a variety of toys, but I intentionally avoided bringing myself to climax. I kept my arousal pent up until Dion arrived, saving myself for him. I was edging hard and so close to an orgasm that I was oblivious to the world around me, but I stopped before venturing past the point of no return. As I opened my eyes, I saw Dion standing in the doorway, an eager smile on his face.
    “Well, well, well, look what I found. A sexy woman in bed all wound up and ready to go,” he said while licking his lips.
    “I’m looking for someone with the right key to fit in my keyhole,” I answered as my hands spread my pussy to reveal my pink flesh while my eyes burned a hole through his pants.
    “I think I’ve got just the key to turn that engine on,” he casually remarked.
    “Come on, and take me for a ride then,” I dared him.
    Within seconds, Dion mounted me, and he was driving his hard cock deep into my body. I finally released all my pent-up arousal, and I climaxed almost as soon as he penetrated me, my body a shaking puddle of a mess underneath Dion’s strong hulking figure.
    I made sure all the curtains were drawn and the windows closed. The hour was late, and it was dark outside, but I didn’t want to take any chances on neighbors catching on to my sexual escapades with Dion. In the safety and security of my own home, I let go of all my inhibitions, expressing my pleasure in screams and shouts as Dion was just getting warmed up and quickly drove me to a second orgasm. I was like putty in his hands, a rag doll for him to use as he pleased, and I let him drive me over the edge again and again until he approached his own orgasm, and he powered through it his cock exploding inside me, filling me with his warm sticky seed.
    Dion fell over onto his back on the bed next to me, both of us breathless but still riding the emotional high of our orgasms.
    “So how was work?” I finally asked between bated breaths.
    “Not as good as coming home,” he responded. I watched his chest rise and fall as he was also breathing hard.
    “Classes going okay? The whole point to all this was to ensure you kept up good grades,” I reminded him.
    Dion laughed at the absurd notion that our affair was some altruistic physical sacrifice on my part and not a result of naked lust.
    “Yeah, my grades are good,” he answered. “All A’s and one B. Got a big project due in my Criminal Court System class. I’m paired up with Darius on the project. We’ve been meeting at the library to work on it, but the library is going under construction for the next few weeks.”
    “My old co worker Marie was telling me about that,” I remarked. “A donor gave them a half million dollars to upgrade the building and modernize it. Install better internet and more private study areas.”
    “Yeah, well, Darius and I need to figure out an alternative place to work on our project. He lives with his mom, but he’s the oldest of 5 k**s, and they all live in a small two-bedroom apartment.”
    “Why don’t you bring him here?” I suggested.
    “Oh, I couldn’t. You already did enough just taking me in,” Dion protested.
    “Nonsense. This place is as much your home as it is mine right now. Besides, we set rules when you moved in. I said no girls, no partying, no d**gs, no alcohol, and I don’t see how inviting Darius to come over here to work violates any of those rules, do you?”
    “No, I guess not,” Dion admitted.
    “Well, it’s settled then,” I concluded.
    “Okay, I’ll ask Darius tomorrow and see what he thinks,” Dion said, finally relenting. “We were going to try to set up in a coffee shop and just squat there, but, if you’re okay with it, maybe we’ll come here tomorrow instead.”
    “I insist you do,” I reiterated. “Coffee shops are crowded and noisy. You’ll never get any work done there.”
    “Ok,” Dion agreed. “As you said, it’s settled then. I’ll bring Darius around tomorrow afternoon.”
    “I’m looking forward to it,” I promised him.

    *******

    Before he left for class the next day, Dion mentioned he and Darius would come around 2 pm, and I spent the morning anxiously anticipating Dion bringing his friend to our house. I thought back several months to when I first met Dion and invited him to live with us. I knew my own worst temptations, and I knew my resistance would be weak with Dion living under the same roof. As it turned out, I was right, and my defenses quickly crumbled as I gave in to my darkest desires. Now all those same emotions came flooding back – the nervousness, the excitement, the dreaming, and I wondered if I’d be able to control myself around Darius.
    I spent entirely too long choosing what outfit to wear. I’d never met Darius, so I wanted something that could be fun and flirty, but I also didn’t want to come off as desperate, even though that might have been the most accurate adjective for my emotions. I kept pulling out and then putting back outfits that were always too something – too frumpy, too slutty, or maybe too formal. I finally settled on a simple denim dress. It was probably a little too short to be completely proper, but it otherwise looked casual enough, like something a respectable housewife might wear around the house, even if I made sure I wasn’t wearing anything else under the dress. Then I put on a pair of heels. Nothing outrageous, but even 2-inch heels made me feel that much taller and did wonders for my ass and legs.
    Come 2 PM, I heard the door open and Dion’s voice boomed in to announce their arrival.
    “Diana, we’re here,” his voice echoed down the hall.
    I came around the corner and was met by Dion and a tall young black man.
    “Hi, I’m Darius,” he politely stated as he extended a hand. I could almost swear he gave me a once over while we shook hands. I wondered how much Dion may have told Darius about us. He didn’t have any other family or friends he kept in touch with. Was it possible that Darius knew about my relationship with Dion? If he did, did he have preconceptions about me?
    “Welcome to our home, Darius,” I said, gesturing for him to enter. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Dion’s is a friend of mine.”
    I gave Darius a once over myself. He was a chiseled 6’2” and 180 pounds with short buzz cut hair, and my pussy stirred in response.
    “I can’t thank you enough for letting us study here. I’m sorry to intrude, but our usual study place is out of commission,” Darius apologetically said.
    “Nonsense. This is Dion’s home, too,” I reassured him. “His friends are welcome here anytime. Besides, I used to work at the college for years as a guidance counselor before I retired last year, so it’s nice to still be able to help out some of the students from time to time. Why don’t you guys come in the kitchen? You’ll have some space to spread out and work in the adjacent dining room,” I said, leading them to the kitchen area.
    After they got settled down, I asked, “Do you fellas want any refreshments while you study?”
    Dion was turned away, pulling materials out of his backpack as I brought over some chips and drinks. I bent over in front of Darius as I laid out the refreshments, and though I pretended to be oblivious, I knew Darius had a clear view down my top. I took a quick peek as I was bent over and confirmed my dress was loose enough to clearly expose my breasts.
    Afterward, I walked back to the sink, but I turned quickly before I got there and looked back at Dion and Darius. I was pleased to see that Darius’ gaze was fixed on me, although he quickly turned away, clearly embarrassed that I’d caught him staring.
    “Is there anything else you boys need?” I innocently asked.
    Darius, his face still embarrassed, looked tongue tied.
    “No, I think we’re fine, Diana,” Dion politely answered.
    I sat down on a kitchen stool behind Dion. I was seated at the counter, my top half hunched over the counter. I idly playing with my phone while facing away from both of them. I kept my bottom half turned at the waist and facing them, however. Since I was seated behind Dion, he couldn’t see me, but Darius had a clear view of my legs. My denim dress was already a little short, reaching halfway up my thighs, but while seated on the stool with my legs crossed, the dress’s hem raised up almost to an obscene height.
    As Dion and Darius worked on their project, I casually sat across the room, pretending to be playing on my phone, but aware that I was giving an eyeful to Darius. I snuck furtive glances and caught sight of him constantly checking me out. My pussy tingled in excitement at the naughty show I put on. I don’t even know what came over me, but I became even more daring. I slowly crossed and uncrossed my legs, almost like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. I repeated this action several times, each time holding my legs apart just a little longer as I uncrossed them to give an eyeful to Darius. I acted as if I was just shifting on the stool, trying to find a comfortable position, but really, I was tingling with excitement knowing that Darius was getting an eyeful. After a while, I just left my legs spread, my freshly shaved pussy openly visible, my skirt, almost hiked to my waist after crossing and uncrossing my legs so many times. Looking over, I saw a growing bulge in Darius’ pants, and his hand constantly reached down to readjust himself.
    “Darius, Darius, are you ok,” Dion asked, snapping his fingers together. “It’s like you’re in a daze or something.” Poor Dion, he was turned away and oblivious to the peep show I was giving his colleague and actually trying to do his schoolwork.
    Darius shook his head. “I’m sorry. I guess, it’s like I was lost in another world there for a minute. Where were we?” he asked.
    They went back to work, and I felt guilty for distracting them so much, especially since Dion had moved in with us to better focus on his studies. I had had my fun, and I should probably leave them alone. Besides, I was so wet with arousal that I needed to do something about it before I started openly fingering myself right in front of them.
    I hastily excused myself and made my way upstairs to my bedroom, pulled out my large black dildo, and tapped it against my pussy. I tried to pretend it was Dion, but my mind kept returning back to Darius.
    It was bad enough I was cheating on my husband with Dion , but now I was seriously contemplating cheating on Dion with Darius. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but all I could think about was seducing Darius. He was fresh meat, a new challenge, an unexplored mountain to climb. A familiar sense of excitement filled my body. My heart raced as I imagined his arms around me. His hands on my body. His lips pressed against my flesh.
    Was I bored with Dion? Certainly not. Besides, I had made a promise to sexually satisfy him to focus on his studies. But what would Dion think of me pursuing Darius? I was glad he was making friends in college, but how would he feel if I just started sleeping with his friends? Would he be possessive of me? He couldn’t complain about me cheating on him if he was ok with me cheating on my husband with him, could he?
    I heard Dion and Darius talking downstairs directly under me as I sank the long black dildo into my body. Its length filled me, and its girth spread my pussy wide. As they continued talking, I closed my eyes, arched my back and shuddered as the pleasure from the dildo filled my body. I worked quietly, suppressing the moans, gasps, and cries I wanted to emit as the dildo plowed into me. While a dildo or vibrator is never quite as nice as the real thing, no one knows a woman’s body better than a woman, and I made sure to hit all the right spots. I knew exactly how I wanted to be touched, where I wanted the dildo to rub and tap against, and my arousal rapidly swelled inside me.
    I spread my legs wider, imagining I was presenting myself for Darius, inviting him to mount me. As much pleasure as my dildo was giving me, I longed to wrap my legs around a real man. I wanted to wrap my legs around Darius. I wanted his strong hands to turn me over so he could take me from behind. I wanted him to grab my hair and pull my head back as he entered me. I wanted him to fuck me.
    I plunged the dildo deep into my body, its full 10 inches reaching to my cervix. I was nearly delirious, drunk on my own sexual pleasure, the pleasure increasing and increasing until I didn’t want to hold it back any longer. Until I couldn’t hold it back any longer, and all I craved was the release. My body finally relented, letting my walls crumble, and allowing all the sexual tension to come exploding forth.
    I lay naked on my bed, the dildo left dangling out of my pussy and my right hand teasing my nipples between my fingers as Darius and Dion studiously worked away just 10 feet under me, their voices rising up through the floorboards and completely oblivious to the sexually charged deviant in their midst discreetly plotting another conquest.

    *****

    By 5 pm, I had cleaned myself off, taking a long shower to wash the smell of sex off my body. After my orgasm, I thought more about how Dion would react to me sleeping with Darius, and I knew he might be hurt, and my heart couldn’t bear doing that to him. He had been through a lot in life, growing up in the foster care system; he had a hard time learning to trust people. It was only recently there was good in the world and the entire world wasn’t actually out to get him. While pursuing Darius seemed like a fun idea in a vacuum, nothing ever happens in a vacuum. I didn’t want to jeopardize Dion’s college pursuit by shattering his trust in people, so I decided just having a momentary fantasy about Darius was as far as I should take things.
    As I came back downstairs, I was dressed more appropriately in yoga pants and a tee shirt.
    The boys were packing up their things.
    “I’ve got to be at work by 5:30 pm,” Dion said aloud, “so we’re wrapping up for the day.”
    “Thank you again, for letting us study over here,” Darius said, turning to face me. “With the college library undergoing refurbishing, they’re always tight on space, and I live at home with all my brothers and sisters always bugging me. We really didn’t have anywhere else to go that would’ve been conducive to studying, so I really appreciate you opening your house to me.”
    “The pleasure was all mine,” I assured him. “You’re welcome here anytime. Any friend of Dion’s is a friend of mine.”
    After they’d left, I started prepping some food to cook. Ten minutes later, though, at 5:30, I heard a knock at the door. I assumed it was likely some door to door salesman (Dion has a key, so he’d just enter if he forgot something), but I pulled up the video on my doorbell camera, and I saw Darius standing there. I answered the door, wondering what brought him back to my house.
    “Darius, what a surprise,” I said as I opened the door.
    “Ms. Diana, I’m sorry to bother you, but I think I left my cell phone here,” he explained. “Is it ok if I look around to see if it’s here?”
    “Oh, you k**s and your cell phones these days,” I laughed warmly. “I’m surprised you even survived for 10 minutes without it. Come on in and let’s have a look.”
    Darius entered, and I closed the door behind him. I suddenly realized that I was alone in the house with Darius. My husband was out of town and not due back until next week, and Dion would be at work for at least several hours.
    I’d told myself earlier that Darius was a nice fantasy, but that I wouldn’t act on it. Yet, here was fate, tempting me, mocking me. I quickly grew nervous and tense.
    What if this was no accident, though? I had openly teased Darius when he first arrived a few hours earlier, flashing my bare pussy right in front of him. What if he had left his phone behind on purpose so he could be with me alone, I wondered?
    “Here it is,” Darius announced, holding up his phone. “I left it on the counter over here and forgot all about it.”
    “Are you sure it was an accident, you leaving your phone behind?” I boldly asked him as all kinds of thoughts swirled in my head. My voice was light and playful, but I also wanted to test if he harbored any ulterior motives.
    “You think I’d forget it on purpose?” he asked incredulously, throwing his hands in the air and feigning innocence.
    “I just wondered if you might’ve wanted to look for an excuse to come back here,” I countered, although I questioned if I should keep pushing him on the point.
    “And what if I did?” Darius replied, calling my bluff.
    “What did you think would happen when you came back?” I asked tensely. I knew the answer, and yet I feared his response. Of course, he came back in hope of being alone with me after I let him see down my chest and get several clear glimpses of my pussy. He assumed I was hot for him. And he wouldn’t be wrong, much as I wanted to now deny it.
    “Well, after that show you gave me while I was trying to study earlier, I thought you sent some pretty clear signals,” Darius explained. “I saw you were careful to just be showing your bits to me, making sure Dion couldn’t see. But I get it. You’re a bored housewife. And Dion is probably too close to home for you to go there. But, me, I could slide right in and out of your life. Now you want some excitement, don’t you?”
    I realized he didn’t know about my relationship with Dion. Suddenly I wondered if Dion was ashamed of his relationship with me, but I’d let Dion tell him, if he wanted to and keep that relationship a secret for now. I confess, part of me was a little hurt that Dion wasn’t bragging about fucking a hot older woman to his friends.
    I was frozen in place. My head said I should walk away, and my heart said I needed to protect Dion and not sleep with his friend. My body, however, was betraying me as I felt my pussy grow wet and my nipples harden. My breath slowed and I stood still as Darius stepped up to me. He was about 9 inches taller than me, and I looked up into his face.
    “It’s alright, I’ve seen the signs before. You’re not the first housewife who’s wanted black cock,” Darius stated. “I’ve been with other white wives just like you. Don’t worry. We can keep it on the down low. Your secret is safe with me. Dion won’t be back for hours. That's plenty of time for you to get your freak on. Ain’t that what you want?”
    I gulped. I was rapidly approaching the point of no return. I knew I could just tell Darius to leave. I knew that’s exactly what I should have done; my conscience was telling me to say it was just a mistake, a misunderstanding. But then I heard the devil whisper in my ear, telling me to give in to him, and the next thing I knew, I was nodding my head, giving in to my worst impulses and tacitly acknowledging that I wanted Darius to stay.
    Darius lifted his hand to my chin and cupped my cheek as his gaze pierced into my soul.
    “I’m not sure I’ve ever been with a woman as old as you, but I know better than to ask a lady her age,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry, there’s lots of girls on campus, and there’s lots of moms and wives who want to add some chocolate to their vanilla lives. You ain’t the only one. Just don’t go falling in love, expecting me to be your boyfriend or anything. This is just straight sex. Hell, it ain’t even that. This is just straight fucking, a dick down. You understand that?”
    I smiled, trying to show some confidence, although I was feeling weak kneed.
    “I knew as soon as I saw you coming down them stairs,” Darius continued. “You’re in that little dress, showing off them lily white legs. You look like the respectable type, and maybe that’s what everyone else thinks you are. But then you’re bending over in front of me, letting me see those titties.” His left hand reached up to cup my breasts while his right hand still cupped my cheek and chin, making sure my face and eyes were pointed right at him the whole time as he openly m*****ed me. “And then you’re sitting on that stool right over there, showing off your pussy for me to see, plain as day.” His right hand dropped from my face and reached inside my yoga pants, his fingers reaching my pussy. “Look at that, you’re all wet.” He pulled his hand out of my panties and lifted it to his face. They glistened with my arousal, and he inhaled my scent. I could smell it myself. Then he put his fingers into my mouth. “Can you taste it? That’s your own pussy you’re tasting, and your pussy don’t lie. You’re a bitch in heat.”
    I was transfixed. His brazen words shook me to my core because they were all true. I had worked all the years building a nice life for myself, to attain some measure of career accomplishment, marry well, and become a respected member of the community. But Darius saw right through all of that to my base, carnal desires. To the side of me that wanted to taste forbidden fruit, to push past societal norms. A married woman isn’t supposed to have extra marital affairs. An old lady isn’t supposed to be a sexual creature, and yet, here I stood, my 53-year-old pussy dripping wet in front of a still teenager. My breath was heavy and deep as I inhaled and exhaled in slow and measured takes.
    I had seduced Dion, but that had been slow and deliberate. I felt in control the whole time as I guided Dion into our affair. Though I had initially intended to tease Darius, this whole situation had quickly spiraled out of my control, and now there was no turning back.
    Darius took in his surroundings and waved his hand around as he continued speaking. “Now we’ve got this big old house to ourselves with all kinds of time to get ourselves into all kinds of trouble, so what do you suppose we should do?” Darius then returned his gaze to me, looking right into my eyes, piercing me with his plaintive stare, waiting for my response.
    I’m not usually one to be left speechless, but my words failed me in the moment.
    “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” he inquired.
    I dropped to my knees in front of him and looked into the bulge in his pants.
    “There you go,” he clapped loudly. “That’s what I’m talking about. Actions speak louder than words. You look like a hungry slut. Why don’t you get you a chocolate popsicle to suck on? It’s like a candy with a creamy center if you work hard enough.”
    The next thing I knew, I pulled down his pants, revealing 8 inches of rock-hard cock standing at attention, straight and tall like a flagpole. It bulged forward as he flexed his member, the veins nearly popping out.
    “Open your mouth,” he commanded.
    I did as instructed and then leaned forward to take him in. He was nicely shaved, and I attempted to deep throat him, but I felt myself almost gagging as he reached to the back of my throat.
    “That’s a good bitch,” he spoke down to me. “Your lips were just made for sucking, weren’t they? Go on, ain’t no need to be shy. You can embrace your inner slut.” Darius laughed as I started slurping on his cock. “Look at you go. You look like a granny, but I think you could teach them college girls a thing or two how to suck a mean cock.”
    I knew I should have more self-respect, that I shouldn’t let any man talk down to me like that, yet I became more and more aroused.
    Darius’ hands reached to my head, helping guide me up and down on his cock.
    “There you go,” he continued. “Get yourself just a taste. I don’t wanna blow my load in your mouth. Don’t worry, I’ll let you get another taste when you clean me off after I pump my load in that pussy of yours. That’s what you really want, ain’t it? You want my dick in your pussy.”
    I lifted my head off his member and admired it, his wet shaft covered in my saliva. I savored the taste of his pre cum on my tongue. My chest was heaving, my nipples hard, and my body tense in anticipation.
    “M-m-maybe we can go to the living room,” I stammered, thinking how the cold hard tile was a little hard on my knees while I was kneeling to suck his cock. I didn’t want to waste the extra time it took to go upstairs. As Darius had correctly pointed out, I was a bitch in heat, and the soft sofa cushions and carpeted flooring seemed like a reasonable alternative.
    “The bitch speaks! Well alright, let’s do as the lady requests. If the lady wants to get fucked in her living room, then god damn it, the lady will be fucked in her living room.”
    I winced at his crudeness, but I got off my knees and led Darius into the living room, and then he sat on a sofa.
    “Why don’t you do a little strip tease for me?” he suggested.
    I froze in fright. “I don’t think – I don’t know how to dance like that,” I replied awkwardly, unsure how to comply with his request.
    “That’s alright then. Just peel off them clothes, but do it nice and slow,” he said as he squinted his eyes at me. “I want to enjoy watching you get naked.”
    Darius had kicked off his shoes and left his pants behind in the kitchen. He sat in the sofa, just wearing white socks and a white tee shirt. His cock tantalizingly protruded forward, a hypnotically tempting prize I wanted to win.
    “The sooner you get to it, the sooner, you can feel it inside you,” he said, nodding down to his cock.
    I marveled at his audacity. For an 18-year-old, he was amazingly confident. A small part of me wanted to tell him off and put him in his place. Then again, it was already too late for that. He had already felt up my tits, fingered my pussy, made me taste my pussy juices, and suck on his cock. And NOW I was considering telling him off. Besides, he was right. I did want his cock.
    I felt a bit silly doing a strip tease. For one, I didn’t really know how. Two, I really wasn’t dressed for it. I hadn’t been expecting to do anything more tonight than cook a quick dinner and then maybe go for a walk, so I was just dressed in yoga pants and a tee shirt. I wore plain white panties and a bra underneath. It was all decidedly unsexy and the last thing I would’ve ever chosen to wear for a strip tease given the closet full of lingerie I owned. Oh well, here goes nothing, I thought to myself.
    I gathered myself and then mustered what confidence I could to look Darius in the eyes as he openly leered at my body. I slowly swayed my hips while my fingers slipped under the waistband of my yoga pants, letting them circle around the entire waistline as I started lowering my pants. My movements were slow and deliberate.
    “There you go. You’re getting the idea and getting into it,” Darius encouraged, obviously pleased with my efforts.
    Buoyed by his response, I inched my pants down far enough to fully reveal my panties.
    “Woohoo, look at that wet spot!” Darius shouted.
    I blushed as I peeked down and saw an embarrassingly large wet spot on my plain white panties. My nerves were on edge as I was stripping for someone who was practically a stranger, someone I had just met a few hours before, but it was exhilarating. And incredibly arousing.
    When my pants were down at my ankles, I stood straight up and instinctively rubbed the outside of my panties on the wet spot and let out a soft moan. Then I licked my finger and slipped it inside my panties, all while keeping my eyes fixed on Darius. He broke into a wide grin as he watched my hand fingering my pussy inside my panties.
    After a few seconds, I pulled my hand back out as I kicked the yoga pants off my ankles, making sure they were out of the way. Then I grabbed the bottom of my tee shirt and slowly raised it up.
    “Mm-mm, you’ve got some nice titties,” Darius remarked as my bra was revealed. I did a small hop as I pulled the shirt over my head and let my C cups jiggle a little.
    As I let my shirt fall to the floor, I was left in nothing but my bra and panties.
    Darius clapped his hands and leaned forward, announcing, “Now it’s on to the good stuff!”
    I was encouraged by his excitement. As I unsnapped my bra, I felt my tits sag a little. Gravity has had an effect on them, although they’ve held up fairly well, still relatively firm and shapely. As I pulled the cups off my breasts, my nipples were hard and pointed.
    Darius nodded his head and pursed his lips. “The old lady’s got some assets,” he blurted out. “I can’t wait to get a taste of those melons.”
    I blushed again, but I kept my eyes focused on him as my hands reached down toward the last article of clothing left on my body. I put one finger from each hand just inside the waistband of my panties and made a little show of moving them in half circles around my waist as I continued to slowly sway my hips.
    Then I slid my panties down in one motion as I bent down at my knees. Still on my feet, my hands continued to push my panties down to my ankles. Darius stared at my display, seemingly mesmerized.
    “I thought you said you didn’t how to strip. You seem to be doing just fine,” he complimented me.
    Then I laid down on my back on the carpet, raising my legs to the air in the process. My panties held my feet close as they dangled in the air, but I spread my legs at the knee, my shaved pussy now prominently on display for Darius.
    “Is this what you wanted?” I asked as I reached down, spread my wet lips, and fingered myself as I felt a rush of air against my pink flesh.
    “Bravo! Bravo!” Darius said as he clapped. “Why don’t you come here and get your prize.”
    I took a deep breath and then stood up and slowly walked over to Darius where he sat on the sofa. He was sitting back, but his hand reached out to guide me onto him.
    He ogled over my body as I straddled him. The youthfulness of his body struck me in the moment. The supple yet taut skin on his chest. The hard-chiseled abs and arms. It all contrasted with the wrinkles on my skin, the sunspots starting to appear, and the softer tones on my flesh. I work out to keep myself in shape, but I’m no fitness model, either. But here I was, a 53-year-old naked woman straddling and about to fuck an 18-year-old teen.
    The next thing I knew, I felt the tip of his cock against my pussy, and I gasped.
    “That’s it, that’s it. Go ahead and slide it on in all the way,” he instructed. “As wet as you are, there won’t be any trouble. A fine woman like yourself, that body was made for fucking.”
    As I lowered myself onto him, a smile of deep satisfaction filled his face as he saw my reaction to his cock filling my pussy. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back as I took in the full length of his shaft.
    I opened my eyes to the contrast of my white skin on his black body.
    “There, there, doesn’t that feel good. You like that cock in your pussy?” he asked me.
    I eagerly nodded.
    “Good, then show me how much you like it. Start fucking me,” he commanded as he leaned his head forward and took my tits in his mouth.
    It set me off like the starting gun to a horse race, and I started bouncing on his cock. My hands caressed the back of his head while I leaned into his body, my head resting against the top of his for support as I bucked on his pole. With his cock in my pussy, his tongue and mouth working my tits, and his hands running up and down my back, I was in ecstasy. I had abandoned any self-control. Now I just wanted sex. I wanted to fuck. I wanted to be fucked. Darius’ cock throbbed inside me. He was even larger than Dion, and he stretched me even wider and penetrated me even deeper. His tongue lightly teased my nipples, just flicking at them as I continued to bounce on his cock. My legs were quickly becoming sore, but I ignored the pain and pressed on. It felt good, so fucking good.
    Sometimes in sex, you want it to last as long as possible where you just keep yourself edging on the cusp, almost like you’re nursing a buzz while drinking. Then there’s other times you just want to get to the end goal. This was the latter. I had no desire to take the scenic route. I plowed ahead in desperate pursuit for that end goal, for that release. My body was so energized, every last nerve and pore on my skin was sensitive to the slightest touch, each sensation adding to my pleasure. My pussy pulsed; my ass tightened. Everything was setting me off.
    And still I plowed ahead. I’m not even sure if Darius knew what hit him. I’m not sure I even cared what he thought as long as he stayed hard. In the moment, he was just a fuck toy to get me off. I fucked him like a woman possessed, but he did his job, and he did it well.
    “God damn, woman,” Darius remarked. “You’re a freak!”
    My body tensed, and I knew I was closing in. The pleasure swelled forth in my body, the intensity growing, its energy radiating out to my limbs and nerves, portending my impending orgasm. Darius’ cock stayed rock hard, every last inch just adding to my pleasure, nearly pushing me over the edge. Darius bit down on my tit, and my body surrendered to the inevitable, to the orgasm that had been building the whole time. My body collapsed into Darius, my tits pressed against his shoulders as I climaxed, the pleasure finally released. I plopped down on top of him, sitting on his lap, his cock fully impaled in my pussy as the climax seeped through my whole body.
    I was almost overcome by the intensity of it all, lost in my own world of pleasure. Not blacked out so much as wearing blinders to everything else happening around me.
    “Hold on, hold on,” Darius called out, snapping me back into the moment. “I ain’t done with you yet. We’re just getting started.”
    I opened my eyes to the sight of Darius’ sturdy body comfortably resting under mine. His cock pulsed inside me, still fully erect. Still ready for action.
    Just getting started, I thought to myself? I wasn’t sure how much more I could take, although I quickly decided I was game to try.
    Darius guided my body to his side so that I was standing on my knees on the sofa, my arms propped on the top of the seatback.
    I was still breathing heavy, drawing long deep breaths as the remnants of my orgasm continued to spasm through my body. I was jittery and still on edge as Darius stood up and positioned himself behind me.
    I turned around and watched as he licked his fingers and slid them across my pussy from behind. I shivered at the touch of his skin to my still swollen pussy lips.
    “Just about the perfect height,” he noted. “Just hold still, and I’ll blow your back out,” he promised as his cock tapped against my pussy.
    “Still so fucking wet and turned on, I see” he smiled. “Now I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want?”
    “I want you.” I called back to him as I jutted my ass toward him, waiting for him to enter me.
    “What is it about me you want?” he demanded to know withholding the pleasure I sought.
    “Please, I want your cock,” I answered, the desperation in my voice evident.
    “What is it about my cock you want?” he continued coldly, still just tapping his cock against the outside of my pussy, mercilessly teasing me.
    “I want your big black cock!” I cried out, hoping those were the magic words for him to plunge his rod back into me.
    “And what do you want my black cock to do to you?” he asked, obviously enjoying my growing desperation.
    God damn, he was making me beg for it, but I didn’t care anymore. He tapped his cock like a cop’s billy club against my moist and highly aroused mound. I desperately longed to feel his 8 inches inside me again, to feel him stretching my pussy deep and wide, but he just tortured me, keeping his cock so tantalizingly close to fulfilling my deepest darkest desires without actually doing so. I pushed my crotch back and raised my ass even higher in the air, presenting myself for him, physically begging him to enter me. My anticipation grew so immense, I couldn’t take it anymore.
    “Fuck, I want to be fucked,” I sputtered, rushing the words out as fast as I could. “I want to be fucked by your big black cock. I want your 18-year-old black cock to fuck my 53-year-old white pussy. Please, I’m begging you. Please fuck me.” I was practically crying as I begged. “I’m yours to fuck. Use me. Fuck me. I’m your slut to use as you please.”
    “There you go. That’s my bitch. Is this what you wanted?” Darius asked as he thrust forward, instantly burying his cock balls deep inside me.
    I loudly sighed, almost in relief, to feel his cock inside me again. It felt like a huge void was left in my pussy after he had pulled out of me earlier, and I shuddered in pleasure to feel that void filled again.
    “Last time I just sat there while you fucked me,” he told me. “This time, I’ll do the work. You just hold on.”
    Darius’ strong hands gripped my hips and I braced myself. He started slowly, almost pulling out completely from my pussy until just the very tip of his cock was left penetrating me.
    “Please,” I begged him. “I need to be fucked.”
    Behind me Darius laughed at my desperation, at my helplessness, but then he slowly pushed forward again and eased my fears. I sighed in relief as his cock’s full length filled me.
    “Don’t worry. I got what you need right here, and you’re going to get it and get it good,” Darius promised me. “Just keep up the dirty talk. A man likes hearing a woman say how much she likes it.”
    I was beyond any sense of propriety or decency by this point, allowing myself to be reduced to a slave to my own sexual pleasure and desires.
    “Oh God that feels so good,” I cooed.
    Darius slapped my ass as he pounded his 8-inch rod into me. “Oh God, I need it,” I called out. “I need your big black cock to get me off.” It turned me on even more to admit the truth aloud.
    “That’s right, that’s right. I thought you were a married woman. Your husband don’t fuck you?” Darius asked as he started fucking me with a nice steady rhythm.
    “He fucks me, but not like you can.,” I confessed. “Besides, he’s always away from home, and I can’t get enough sex.”
    “Is that right?” Darius said in amusement. “You can’t get enough. Your husband just leaves you all horny and alone at home. Then you’re so wound up, you’re jumping at every live cock coming across your threshold?”
    “It’s not like that,” I protested.
    “It ain’t? How so?” he pushed back.
    I felt the sofa cushion under me growing wet, my pussy juices flying off and dripping down the side of my legs each time he jackhammered into me. I girded myself for his thrusts, my arms braced against the sofa back, pushing my ass back to take the hard slap of his balls against my pussy.
    “I love black cock! I love young black cock!“ I was breathless, barely able to get the words out. Between the pounding that Darius was dishing out on my pussy and the climax quickly approaching, I could barely even draw a breath.
    “You going to cum on my black dick?” Darius demanded to know.
    “I’m so fucking close. I’m going to cum on your black dick. Don’t stop. Please, keep giving me that black dick.”
    Darius reached out and grabbed a fistful of my short auburn hair and pulled my head back. “Look in my eyes while you cum on my cock, bitch. I want to see your O-face.”
    With my head pulled back, my chest shot forward, causing my tits to jiggle wildly with each thrust. Darius ran his other hand down the length of my back, and it was all too much for me to take, and I climaxed for the second time on his cock while I locked eyes with his.
    “That’s my bitch. Always ready to cum, ain’t you?” he said right to my face.
    “I love it! God knows, I love it,” I admitted.
    “You didn’t even ask me to wear protection,” Darius pointed out. “Not that I’d wear it anyway. I’m gonna cum deep in that pussy of yours. Is that what you want?”
    “Yes, yes, dear God yes! I want your cum in my pussy!” I shouted out. And it was the truth. I wanted my pussy filled with his cum. I wanted it dripping out of my pussy and down my legs.
    Darius laughed again at my horniness. “Go on and ask for it then. Tell me what you want.”
    “Oh God, I’m a slut,” I proclaimed. “I’m your slut. A slut for black cock. I want your cum. I want it dripping out of me. Give it to me. Shoot your load. Pump it deep in my pussy.”
    I was quickly spiraling toward another orgasm; the climaxes were coming so hard and fast by this point, I could hardly tell where one ended and another began. I was insatiable, unable to control myself.
    “You like that teen age cock in that old white pussy?” Darius laughed as he posed his question.
    “I do. I’m a slut for young cock. I’m a 53-year-old married white woman, and I want your 18-year-old black cock to fill me with cum.” I was nearly delirious, unable to get enough of his cock in the moment.
    “Well, that’s just what your going to get, slut,” Darius promised me as I shuddered in response.
    I felt Darius’ body start to tighten. He released my hair, and my head fell back into the sofa back rest. His hands returned to my hips, and he pulled my body back into his crotch as he pushed forward, our bodies loudly slapping together. Each thrust shook my whole body as he impaled his cock so deep into me, it felt like he was drilling into virgin territory.
    I knew Darius was close, and I tightened my pelvic muscles, clamping myself tight around his cock. Judging by his shocked response, he clearly wasn’t expecting it, but he also clearly welcomed the added pressure as it sent him over the edge.
    “Oh, fuck woman, what the hell kind of black magic is that?” he wondered aloud as I felt the hot jets of his hot gooey cum spurt forth from his cock and fill my pussy.
    I looked back and caught his gaze as his cock continued to pulse inside me, his face clearly pleased with his handiwork, and he gave my ass one last slap.
    As he slowed down and pumped the last of his seed into me, I wiped the stray strands of sweaty matted hair out of my eyes. I raised my head, still dizzy and woozy from a heady mixture of exhaustion and the afterglow of my orgasm, yet I spotted something amiss out of the corner of my eye as my thoughts drifted back from the world of sexual ecstasy and into the present.
    My neighbors, Kathy and Emily, were standing on the sidewalk outside my house, staring in horror at the sight of me naked on my couch with a young black man’s cock still buried in my pussy. In my haste to fuck Darius, I didn’t notice the blinds were left open. Or worse, that the window was open. By the look on their faces, I knew they saw and heard everything, or at least more than enough to know exactly what had happened.
    Darius must’ve spotted them as well since he barked out, “You want to come in here and take a ride on the Black Train, too,” he laughed.
    Kathy and Emily turned away; their faces beet red as they hastily took off.
    “Oh God,” I muttered aloud, wondering how I’d ever explain this one away.
    “Don’t you worry about them uptight bitches,” Darius reassured me. “They’re just jealous. They wish they had a black cock to stretch out their pussies, too. Bet them bitches are tight. They just need to be loosened up a little,” he chuckled.
    I didn’t doubt he was right, but I also didn’t doubt that getting Kathy and Emily not to make a ton of trouble for me was also not so simple.

    *****

    To be continued….




    On Saturday, July 2, 2022, 11:41:16 AM EDT, Diana R <[email protected]> wrote:




    Byron;
    This is a hot story ! 
    Will you be adding more to it shorty? I do hope you do.
    I cum using my toys each time I read it.... there has to be more....
    Kisses

    Diana R 
    On 2/21/2022 9:00 PM, Byronasaurus Rex wrote:

    I still have to do some final editing, but I should be submitting this by this weekend, likely to get posted sometime next week.





    All characters are 18 or older. This story was written in collaboration with Diana R. The story starts a little slow as it builds the back story, but then it’s moving by the end. This story features a relationship between an adulterous older white female (53 yo) and a young black man (18 yo). If that doesn’t appeal to you, then please save yourself the aggravation. If it does appeal to you, we hope you enjoy.

    ******

    “Diana, I need your help,” Marie pleaded on the phone. “We worked together for over 30 years. Look, you know I wouldn’t call you if there was another way. I know you’re retired, but you’ve got connections with some of our wealthy and most generous alumni. Your husband works with a lot of them. You’ve got extra pull I just don’t have. Please, can’t you just check make some calls?”
    I was skeptical, but Marie was a good friend, and she wouldn’t reach out to me unless it was a dire situation. We had worked together for decades as guidance counselors at the community college, although I retired about a year ago. I’m still only 53, but my husband makes a good living, and we could afford for me to retire, although my husband still works. For him, the work seems sustain and fuel him. For me, the prospect of working until I couldn’t enjoy my retirement just wasn’t appealing, so I retired about a year ago and have enjoyed pursuing all the interests and hobbies I never had time for previously.
    “Okay, explain it to me again,” I said, trying to be patient.
    “His name’s Dion Gooden. He’s an African-American k** from Douglass High School on the southeast side of town. Lived there his whole life, and you know how rough it is down there. He’s 18, just graduated high school this spring. Dion’s a real hard luck case. His dad is in prison, and his mom is a bad addict. He’s been in and out of foster homes the past 5 years, but he’s aged out. He wants to take classes and get an associate’s, but he needs some help.”
    “Can’t he just take out student loans or get a Pell grant?” I pointed out.
    “He could, but he’s working two minimum wage jobs just to afford a car and a place to stay. You know how crazy rent has gone the past few years, and he’s got some debts he needs to pay back – “
    “So, he doesn’t know how to manage his money, and he wants to be bailed out,” I countered.
    “I don’t think it’s like that. He’s racked up some medical bills, and he ran into the wrong car. The car damage was his fault, but his insurance didn’t cover the full cost on the other side, so he’s stuck with the extra costs. He took on a second part time job in his senior year, and his grades suffered, and there’s no way he can keep on top of college classes while working 70 hours of manual labor a week. But I’ve met him, and I really think he just needs a break. He’s a good k**, but he’s shy. You’ve got a way with coming through to some of these k**s. Do you think you can help him? Just talk to him, and you’ll see what I mean.”
    I sighed loudly on the phone. “Can you lay the guilt trip on any thicker?” I asked.
    Marie knew I had a soft spot and couldn’t pass up a hard luck case without helping. It’s part of the reason I became a guidance counselor in the first place. I always loved helping people, and watching k**s go from lost and directionless to finding a purpose in their lives was always incredibly rewarding. If it wasn’t for the administrative bureaucracy, I might even still be working, but the constant red tape became so frustrating and made the job damn near impossible at times.
    “I can set up a meeting,” Marie offered. “After you meet him, I’m sure you’ll want to help.”
    “So, he’s in a catch-22,” I said, processing all the information Marie had given. “Take out the loans, and he doesn’t have time for class anyway, and he’ll probably flunk out and owe on the loans. If he stops working, he can get loans and take classes, but he can’t afford a place to stay. What exactly is it that you think I can do?“
    “I don’t know. Just work your magic,” Marie said brightly.
    “My magic. Yeah, just let me grab my witch’s gear and book of spells,” I joked.
    “I don’t know. You always seem to figure something out. I’m sure you will here, too.”
    I sighed one last time as I wondered what I was getting myself into.

    *****

    A week later, I walked into a café to meet Dion. Marie had provided his contact info, and, after a few phone calls and texts, he agreed to meet on Tuesday afternoon at a café close to campus. As I stepped through the door, I saw a young black man, about 5’11” and 175 pounds waiting nervously at a table. He was the only black person in the café, and his eyes studied me, seemingly trying to figure out if I might be his appointment.
    “Hi, I’m Diana,” I said with a warm smile as I extended my hand.
    “Uh, I’m Dion. It’s nice to meet you,” he answered. He shook my hand, but his voice was soft and lacked any confidence or conviction.
    I took a seat with him at a small round table, and we ordered some coffees. He had dark features and looked strong and clean cut. His curly hair was cut short by a razor, and he looked freshly shaved. He dressed in nice slacks and a polo shirt. I couldn’t discern if this was his normal dress habit, or if he dressed especially for this occasion.
    “So, Marie tells me you want to go to college,” I began.
    “Yes, ma’am. I’d like that. I like criminal justice. I’d like to get a degree so I can work in that field.”
    “Why criminal justice?” I asked, trying to gauge how serious he was over this pursuit.
    “Well, I think it’s interesting. And where I come from, sometimes life is tough. A lot of gangs, a lot of d**gs, and I seen a lot of my friends end up on the wrong end of a gun or knife when they didn’t do nothing wrong. I want to do my part to try to clean up those streets and make it a safe place to live.”
    His voice gained confidence as he spoke. It was clear he’d given a lot of thought to his aspirations and that those goals filled him with purpose.
    “So, what do you need to do to make that happen?” I followed up.
    “That’s what I don’t understand. The college costs ain’t a big deal. I know I can get a Pell grant. That’s the easy part, but short of free room and board, I don’t see how. These two jobs I’m working got me running around like crazy all week. I ain’t got no time to take classes. I’ll do the work; I ain’t afraid of that. But rent ain’t cheap, you know. I need my car to get to work and to class. I ran into someone a year ago, messed up some rich dude’s ride. My insurance only covered part of the damage. I’m still on the hook for the rest, so I’m paying through the nose on car insurance and still paying that dude off. And I got sickle cell, so I’m in the hospital about once a year, and now I’m paying that note, too. It’s just bills, bills, bills. This whole adulting thing ain’t no joke.”
    Marie was right. This k** had some tough breaks and a huge hole to climb out of. Nothing is impossible, but most people have a short period in their lives after high school to try to get set on their feet. The whole key to life is to have a skill set. Whether you get a degree, a certification, or make/ sell something, you have to have a skill that is in demand. If you get set on that path in young adulthood, it can be hard to recover as marriage and k**s come into the picture. Some people do it, but many don’t because it’s a thousand times harder, and Dion seemed to have the deck stacked against him through little fault of his own.
    “Isn’t there someone who can help you out? An aunt or uncle? A brother, sister, or cousin? Grandparent?” I pointed out.
    Dion shook his head. “My pop’s in prison. I never even met my grandparents on his side. God knows where my mom is. Ain’t seen her in 4 years. God knows my grandparents on my mom’s side. He’s got them up in heaven with him. I’m the oldest. My brothers and sisters are still in foster care. I got a cousin, but she’s shacked up with a d**ggie. Ain’t no one else. So, you tell me what options I have?”
    “Girlfriend?”
    Dion scoffed. “I wish. Can’t even afford to take care of myself.”
    “It’s okay,” I conceded. “Having a girlfriend to split rent with might help. It can also distract you from classes. I’ve seen way too many k**s let their schoolwork slip for some girl. How about a roommate?”
    “I’ve got a roommate, and that’s just a small piece of what I owe, anyway. Look, I want this. I don’t see how right now, but if there’s a way, I’ll do it. I just can’t be working in grease pits and mopping floors the rest of my life. But I’ll do what I got to do to get there.”
    “Okay, look. I can’t promise anything, but let me make some calls. Give me your work info. I want to check in with them. If they vouch for you, I know some people who often donate to the college. Maybe I can arrange for room/ board in place of scholarship. Now if I can get that arranged, you’ve got to promise to earn it. I’m sticking my neck out for you; don’t make me regret it,” I warned him sternly.
    Dion‘s eyes bled with gratitude. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, his eyes nearly tearing up. “If I got a place to stay, I can just work one part time job to cover my other bills. I promise you, if you can get me that deal, I’ll make good on it.”
    I smiled, admiring his determination as he pushed across a slip of paper with his current job info. “Okay. Give me about a week. Let me see what I can shake loose.”

    ******

    First, I checked up with Dion’s employers. One employer was a breakfast diner, and the other was a janitorial service, and both vouched for him, saying he was a reliable employee who didn’t cause any trouble.
    I called Marie and had her send me a copy of his high school transcript, and I talked to his high school guidance counselors. Again, no red flags, and everything indicated he was just a hard luck case who needed a break in life. His story pulled at my heartstrings. He was dealt a crappy hand and had every reason to throw in the towel. So many other k**s in his situation either went for the allure of the street life or submitted to a lifetime of menial existence, and I was resolved to at least give him a chance in life.
    I was acquaintances with some of the larger college donors, and I contacted some of them to see if they could help, but all of them passed. I reached out to Section 8 to see if they could help him get subsidized housing, but the wait list was so long, it would take years to process his request. He probably wouldn’t qualify, anyway, since he had no k**s and had income from two jobs.
    There was one last ditch option that I had intentionally avoided, but I didn’t see any other way. My husband was away on business, but I called him and told him about Dion’s case. I recapped his whole story from his time in the foster system to his more recent struggles with medical bills and debts with no family to help.
    “God damn it, Diana, he’s not our problem. Why do we have to help?” he complained.
    “Honey, his life is at a make or break point. He didn’t have parents like we did. It’s a miracle he’s gotten as far as he has. Most k**s with his trauma and abandonment, they’ve got demons they can’t overcome. He’s still fighting to get somewhere and do something with his life. I’m afraid he’ll be lost if we don’t step in.”
    “So, what are you suggesting exactly?” he demanded to know.
    I took a deep breath before I let the words come out. “I’m suggesting he stay with us for a while.”
    My husband burst in mock laughter. “And what if it doesn’t work out? What if he’s a nightmare? If he steals stuff. Plays loud music at all hours. Makes a mess of the house. Throws wild parties. Invites over unsavory friends. Has a girlfriend that basically moves in this him. Or refuses to ever move out. What then?”
    “I’ll set ground rules. I’ll be responsible for all that, and you can blame me if I’m wrong about him. But, I’m telling you, he’s a good k**. We won’t have any of those issues. Look, you’re away over half the time on business, anyway. You’ll hardly ever even see him.”
    “I don’t know Diana. “ He paused for a long moment, his breathing the only sound coming across the line as he considered my proposal. “Fine, do it your way, but, if anything goes wrong, this is all on you. I don’t want anything to do with it.”
    I exhaled deeply as I hung up the phone. My husband clearly wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of taking in Dion, but he relented in the end, and now my body shook with the prospect of that reality. I was sure taking Dion in was the right thing to do, but I knew it also played into my own weakness. I knew that taking in Dion was playing with fire with regards to my own predilections.
    I was widowed by my first husband over a decade ago, which partly led to my decision to retire early. After his death, I realized that life was too short, so I resolved to live life to the fullest. I remarried a few years back, and my husband is a dear, but he’s frequently away from home on business, sometimes for weeks at a time. He provides well for us, but I realized after marriage that I was often left alone in the house. I travelled with him on a few of his business trips, but he’s a workaholic, often pulling 12-hour days, so I was left mostly waiting around a hotel suite in a strange city for him to come back. After a few of those trips, I opted to at least wait for him in the comfort of my own home. That said, even when he’s home, he still routinely works 12-hour days, so I’m left on my own a lot.
    I’ve kept myself in shape, watching what I eat and exercising regularly. I keep my auburn hair short, although, at 53, some greys are creeping in. I’m proud of the fact I’ve managed to maintain a 34c-29-35, 129 pounds figure on my 5’6” frame, although I know I’m no model. I have a high sex-drive and having a husband away from home over half the time doesn’t help that situation. I play with myself a lot, but I still find myself making excuses to stray from time to time. I figure my own physical affairs just counterbalance his emotional abandonment, so it all works out even in the end. Besides, what you don’t know can’t hurt you.
    That said, I knew inviting Dion, a young man, to live in our house would play into all my worst temptations. I love my husband, but he is a few years older than me, and his work schedule doesn’t leave time for staying in shape. Having a young strong man in the house would be nice, although I wondered if he’d have any interest in an older woman like myself. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye candy in the house and give me something to think about while I masturbate.
    Despite my own hesitancy, I knew I was talking myself into inviting Dion to stay with us. In my heart, I knew it was the right thing to do, but I also knew I was opening Pandora’s Box. Nevertheless, I made up my mind and decided to accept the consequences, come what may.

    *****

    A week later, Dion and I were sitting at the same table again in the same café near campus.
    “So, what now? Did you find some help?” Dion eagerly asked.
    “I called a lot of people, and no one I called was able to help,” I started to explain.
    “I knew it!” he muttered in obvious frustration.
    “No, no wait. I don’t give up that easy, and neither should you. None of them was willing to help, but maybe there’s another option,” I replied.
    Dion’s ears perked up, although he appeared skeptical. He sat, his brows raised and his eyes laser focused as he waited for me to elaborate.
    “Look, this may sound strange,” I continued to explain, “but you can move in with my husband and myself. We have a furnished basement. There’s already a bed and a bathroom down there. Usually it’s for guests, but it’s yours if you want it. It’s a walk out-basement, so you can have some privacy. You can stay, rent free, and we’ll feed you. That way, you don’t have to worry about housing costs. Then Marie can help you with the Pell Grant for tuition costs, and then you just need to work enough to cover your other debts.”
    His face softened as he heard my proposal and realized that my offer was legitimate.
    “I - I – I don’t know what to say,” he said softly.
    “Listen. There’s ground rules if you live with us. I see your grades, and you’ve got to get good grades. No loud music, no d**gs, no drinking. No girlfriends staying over. Do your own dishes and laundry. Don’t make a mess. Keep the basement clean. Any questions?”
    Dion’s face showed that he was still processing the proposal, and I waited patiently while he considered it.
    Finally, he spoke, asking “How long can I stay?”
    “It’s a two-year degree, right?”
    He nodded his head.
    “Two years then,” I answered with a smile. “Provided you can follow the rules. Are you in?”
    “I’m in,” he quickly answered.
    “Good. Classes start next week. The timing is tight, but I think Marie can pull some strings to get you fully enrolled. When do you think you’ll move in?” I asked.
    “Is this weekend ok? I’ve got a co worker at the diner. He’s trying to move out of his mama’s. He’d take over my lease.”
    “That sounds perfect. This weekend it is. Here’s the address,” I said as I slipped him a piece of paper. “You already have my cell phone. Just let me know what time you’ll arrive. Till then, good luck.”

    ******

    Marie called over; she was excited to process Dion’s paperwork to get registered and enrolled. Then Saturday came, and Dion arrived just after lunch to move in. He drove a small older model Honda Civic hatchback, and his world of belongings fit in his car.
    “Nice house you got here, Mrs – “
    “It’s Diana,” I corrected him, “just call me Diana.”
    He got his boxes and bags moved into the basement, and then he came up to see the rest of the house.
    “Where’s your husband?” Dion asked. “I wanted to thank him, also.”
    “Oh, he’s out of the house. He’s a senior engineer for an oil company. He’s always off setting up new sites, so he’s away a lot, sometimes for weeks at a time. He won’t be back for at least another week.”
    “Oh yeah, you mentioned that before. Must be nice getting to travel like that.”
    “I suppose. Leaves me home alone a lot though.”
    “Who’s this? You got a k**?” he asked, pointing at an old family portrait hanging on the wall.
    “That’s Bradley. He’s 20 now. Not such a k** anymore. He goes to college far away from here He has to fly home for visits, but he’s been interning at a corporation over there on and off for the past year, so it’s been a while since we’ve seen him.”
    “He’s lucky to grow up with you.”
    A silence lingered after that last line, only interrupted by the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves drifting in through the open windows.
    “Alright, get settled in,” I said, breaking the silence. “I’ll have some dinner ready at 7 pm. You eat what I make, otherwise, you’re on your own. There’s snacks in the pantry. There’s a TV in the den, and there’s one down in the basement, too. Both of them have satellite and are connected to some streaming services. If there’s anything else you need, let me know. Make yourself at home. Okay?”
    Dion nodded his head and then headed back to the basement to unpack his things.

    *****

    Dion got settled in over the next few days.
    He quit his job at the breakfast diner to free up his time to take classes during the day, but he kept his second janitorial job in the evenings to pay for his debt, car, gas, and insurance, although he cut back on his hours, so he’d have time to study. Since he had a friend to sublease his apartment, Dion was able to put the money he saved for next month’s rent toward his tuition costs until his Pell grant came through.
    He was so excited Monday morning when he left for his first classes, and he came home and pored over all his books, already trying to work ahead.
    I admit it was nice having someone else in the house. With my husband away so much, a woman can get lonely. Just having someone to talk to was nice. At first Dion kind of hit away in the basement, but by the middle of the week, he became more comfortable spending time in the rest of the house. You might think that our 35-year age difference might’ve left us with little in common, but the community college gave us a shared topic, and we seemed to find a lot of other shared interests.
    He spent a lot of time in the basement shirtless, and seeing his young, strong body like that, I have to admit he looked physically tempting. The original trepidation I felt to invite him into my home proved prophetic.
    On Thursday that first week, I caught him swiping through tinder profiles on his phone.
    “You cut back on work hours, and now you’ve got all kinds of time to go chasing girls,” I teased him.
    Dion just smiled sheepishly, knowing he’d been called out.
    “Look, I know a man has needs, but you’re only in your first week of school,” I warned him. “I’ve seen this story before. A boy gets hung up on some sweet thing, and next thing he knows, he spends all his time chasing after her, and then school gets left behind. Now you’re in college, and you’re supposed to be thinking with your brain and not with that,” I said as I wagged a finger at his crotch. I could swear I saw the bulge in his pants pop out in response.
    “I’m sorry. I just – I guess - before I didn’t have time for a girlfriend. I didn’t have time to think. I just worked and slept and worked and slept. And now I don’t know. I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t want to mess this up. I’m really thankful for everything you’re doing for me.”
    “It’s alright. I know it’s hard,” I reassured him. “I get it. I was once young, too. But I pulled a lot of strings and had to really sweet talk my husband into letting you move in. I bet on you, so please don’t fail me.”
    We laughed about it and then sat down for dinner. Dion was starting to become more comfortable, like he actually started to feel at home, and I was happy to see that everything was working out so well.

    *****

    I got a call from my husband that weekend. There was trouble at another drilling site, and he had to go there to fix it, so he needed to stay another week to see them through. I was used to it by now, but it helped having Dion around, at least. We lived in a safe neighborhood and I certainly never considered myself a helpless damsel, but the house feels big sometimes, and the emptiness and stillness at nights can fill you with fright and loneliness. Just having someone else there can bring comfort against the things that go bump in the night.
    I had caught Dion on Tinder, but he wasn’t the only one who had desires. It was never good when my husband was out of the house for long periods. I had way too high a sex drive to be left alone for long periods of time, let alone with a virile young man in the house. Dion was constantly shirtless in the house, though I would swear he was just raised that way, and that it was a sign he felt at home. Nevertheless, I found myself staring at his physique several times, and I’d almost swear he caught me admiring him a few times. After a while, I couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t just an accident that he was always shirtless in the house.
    During his second week, I went downstairs to call him up for dinner, and I caught him unaware as he jerked off. I stopped at the top of the stairs, transfixed by the sight of his cock in his hands. His cock was dark black, even darker than the rest of him, and it somehow looked dangerous in his hands, almost like a weapon. Then he caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye, and, clearly embarrassed, he panicked and pulled his pants up.
    “Dinner’s ready when you are,” I calmly said before I turned around and headed back up the stairs.
    We shared a quiet meal that night. Dion was clearly embarrassed but engaging in straight talk is what made me an effective guidance counselor, so, after enduring a painful awkwardness through the main course, I sought to clear the air.
    “Dion, we need to talk about what happened earlier when I walked in the basement.”
    His face went pale, telling me he wished his body could melt and ooze back down into the basement to escape this conversation.
    “I’m sorry you - “ His voice trailed off, the words failing him. Having come from a broken home, it’s not surprising he was so defensive and scared.
    “It’s alright. I’m not here to lecture you,” I tried to reassure him. Dion sat dumbfounded and unmoving. “Look, I get it. We all have needs.” I saw his eyes grow as big as saucers. “It’s ok. It’s natural. We don’t talk about it a lot, so that makes it seem weird, but it shouldn’t be, right? Anyway, I already dissuaded you from having a girlfriend, so what did I expect? Everyone needs an outlet, right?”
    “I don’t know what to say,” I said, his face a look of confusion.
    “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to apologize. Actually, I should apologize. I didn’t knock before I came down.”
    “You weren’t offended or anything?” he asked in disbelief.
    I laughed. “You know, I’ve got some girlfriends that pay decent money to go to a club downtown about once a month to get a peek at what I saw a little bit ago.”
    Dion smiled sheepishly, and I was satisfied I had sufficiently set him at ease.
    “Now how about some dessert?” I asked as I reached for the apple pie.

    *****

    The next day Dion and I were watching tv, and we got to talking.
    I saw him wag his tongue at some young blonde thing on one of those competition reality tv shows. She was obviously cast to be eye candy.
    “Is that the kind of woman you’re into?” I openly asked him.
    “Oh, I don’t know. She’s alright,” he answered, probably too shy to talk over those kinds of details.
    “I see what you like. Young and skinny. Can’t say I blame you. She’s a beauty,” I agreed.
    “She’s pretty. I mean, you ain’t so bad. For an old woman and all.”
    “Ouch.”
    “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, your husband’s a lucky man.”
    “You want to tell him that. He’s been away for almost 4 weeks,” I reminded him.
    An obvious sexual tension hung in the air between us. Dion had an awkward shyness about him, and I found it innocently endearing.
    “Have you ever had a girlfriend?” I asked, breaking the silence.
    “Of course, I have,” he answered defensively, a little too quickly.
    “How long ago?”
    “Well, it wasn’t anything serious. I mean, I hooked up with some girls at parties back in high school. I’ve been with women, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “It must be lonely,” I told him.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, growing up, you went into foster care and kind of bounced from family to family. Your mom disappeared. No stable presence in your life. No parental figure. No siblings. Then the next thing you know, you’re working so much, there’s no time for a relationship.”
    Dion just sat there listening in silent agreement before speaking. “It seems you’re lonely, too sometimes. What with your husband away so much and all.”
    “It’s ok. We all get lonely sometimes. I can understand why you were looking for someone on tinder. It’s only natural to want some companionship,” I conceded.
    “So, what then?”
    We sat staring across at each other. I knew my own weaknesses, and I was trying to read his face if he shared similar thoughts. The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself, but I bit my lip and then decided to plow ahead.
    “Can I be honest with you?” I asked.
    “What you think we’ve been doing?” he asked incredulously.
    “Do you find me attractive?” There, I’d put myself out there.
    He hesitated, and I rushed to fill the silence. “I mean, I know I’m a lot older than any of the women, really girls, that you’re really interested in. But if you’re lonely - and I’m lonely - well, I want you to do well in school. I could – “ I swallowed hard, trying to choose my words carefully, “we could be like friends with benefits.”
    My proposal hung awkwardly in the air as Dion sat with a stunned look on his face. I saw him look me over, probably eyeing me sexually for the first time.
    “You can say no,” I continued, again trying to fill the silence. “I’m not trying to force myself on you, I just thought maybe it could be… mutually beneficial.”
    “So what?” Dion croaked, finally finding his voice, his face still in disbelief.
    Now it was my turn to sheepishly grin. “Well, I have a pretty high sex drive, to be honest. You could probably fuck me any time you want. I mean, I don’t do anal, so don’t go there. I have limits, but I enjoy taking care of a man, and I don’t mind a man taking charge of me.”
    “And what about your husband?” he asked.
    “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?”
    Both of us were shaking in nervousness as we waded in unchartered territory.
    “I mean, this is just so you can focus on school,” I said, encouraged that he hadn’t outright rejected me. “That way you don’t need to spend all your time chasing after girls. Any time you need to get your rocks off, I can help.”
    “Is that so?”
    Sometimes, the time for talk has passed, and it’s time to take action. I slid off the chair to my knees and scooted over to him until I was kneeling in front of him, looking up into his face as he sat in front of me.
    My hand reached up to his crotch and massaged the bulge in his pants as my eyes held his gaze. His cock visibly stiffened as I ran my hands over him, and I knew that we had passed the point of no return.
    “I like what I saw earlier. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again,” I said with a smile as my hands reached inside his pants.
    Dion gasped as my fingers wrapped around his dick. I turned my head down to see the head of his cock sticking out of his pants. I always love the contrast of my white skin against black skin, and I started jerking him off, watching his cock grow still larger. I had both hands wrapped around his member, and I felt Dion’s hand rest on top of my head and then gently guide me toward his crotch.
    I opened my lips and took him into my mouth. His pubic hairs needed a trim, but his hard cock extended out so far, it wasn’t really an issue, although it would keep me from deep throating until he trimmed it. As my mouth and tongue worked the tip of his manhood, my right hand jerked off his shaft, and my left hand played with his balls.
    Dion moaned softly, and it spurred me to work him even harder, trying to drive him to an orgasm. I don’t know if it was his youth, maybe it’d just been a while since I had sex, or maybe I was just that damn good, but, whatever it was, he didn’t last very long. After just a few minutes, his entire body stiffened, and he groaned as he shot his load. I wrapped my lips tightly around his cock, and his warm spunk shot to the back of my throat, causing me to gag slightly. As he ejaculated a couple more shots of cum, the salty taste hit my tongue, and a small string of cum stretched from my lips to the tip of his cock as I released him from my mouth.
    “God damn, woman!” he exclaimed at the sight of me with his cum dripping from my lips.
    “I take it you liked it.”
    “I didn’t know you were a freak like that.” He looked at me in shock, as if he no longer recognized the woman who had just sucked him off.
    I laughed. “I think you’ll be seeing a lot of the freaky side of me soon.”
    “I look forward to it.”
    “I do have one request, though,” I told him.
    “What’s that?”
    “If you shave your pubic hairs, the next blow job I give will make your eyes roll to the back of your head,” I promised him.
    “So, let me get this straight,” he said. “Anytime I feel like I want sex, you’re going to let me fuck you.”
    “That’s the idea. I reserve the right to say no, and you’ll need to respect that, but I have a pretty high sex drive. I don’t think I’ll be saying no that much.”
    “I think I’ll be wanting to tear that pussy up here in a bit.”
    My pussy moistened as Dion brazenly talked about fucking me.
    “I’m looking forward to it,” I replied with a wink.

    *****

    Dion was in the den watching a basketball game on tv while I laid in bed, thinking over what I’d just done. My heart was still racing, my mind replaying my actions an hour earlier when I knelt at Dion’s knees and sucked him off to orgasm. The faint taste of his cum still lingered on my tongue, and my pussy moistened as I remembered seducing him. I knew I had originally taken on the role of a matronly figure in his life while taking him in and helping him get enrolled in college. And now, in one afternoon, I had shattered that view, instantly transforming myself from a motherly object to a sex object in his eyes.
    I told myself that I was just helping him focus on school and not spend all his time chasing girls, but, while there was a kernel of truth to that, I knew I had ulterior motives. Living in this house by myself for weeks at a time often left me feeling abandoned and lonely, and inviting Dion to stay gave me companionship. Having a husband who spends weeks at a time away, especially for a woman with a high sex drive, just led me to stray from time to time. I knew the minute I considered opening my home to take in Dion I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to offer my body to him. He was young and virile, and the fact that he was black, added a taboo factor that turbo-charged my libido. My parents, like many of their generation, harbored a prejudice against black people, and, while I never shared their prejudices, I knew they were likely to disown me if I dated a black man. The older I got, I found the my own attraction to the forbidden fruits became stronger. So, black men became an alluring temptation.
    The other societal taboo I found myself breaking was taking an interest in younger men. One of the nicest perks of my career as a guidance counselor was it put me in regular contact with so many young men. There was only so much I could do without risking my job, however, I wasn’t above innocent flirting with many of them. Now that I was retired, I had insecurities like any older woman, so it was gratifying to know I could still attract the attention of a young man like Dion.
    Truth be told, my husband’s body just isn’t as sexually appealing as a young college man’s body. My husband’s long work hours have left him pudgy and soft, and age has left him sometimes needing assistance from a little blue pill to get it up, which just leaves me feeling like he doesn’t even find me desirable. While I know I’m no longer a young woman, I work hard to maintain my figure, and it hurts to see my husband not even get a hard on when I try to seduce him.
    My husband trusted me and assumed I had nothing but pure intentions in taking Dion into our home, and he would be devastated if he learned the truth. But now I had managed to bring my greatest temptation under my own roof and with my husband’s knowledge, even if he didn’t know that Dion and I would have an affair. In theory, this could work out to everyone’s benefit. My husband complained about taking in Dion, but he has a big heart, and he also supported me in helping disadvantaged youth when I was guidance counselor. For Dion, he gained a path to education and all the doors in life that a post-high school education could open. And, for me, I gained the companionship I desperately sought, as well as a way to satisfy my sexual needs.
    Still, I had sucked off Dion, but he hadn’t fucked me yet. He seemed more than pleased at the prospect of having me as a sex object at his disposal, but I didn’t want to disappoint him. I enjoy sucking dick and pleasing a man, but the pleasure needs to be mutual. I longed to feel him inside me, to feel his cock fill my pussy and drive me to an orgasm.
    I worried a little that he didn’t take me right away after I sucked him off, but I knew he probably needed some time to recover. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if my 53-year-old body could still entice him. I worked hard to keep myself in shape, but I have greys in my auburn hair, and the wrinkles are no longer just laugh lines. There’s only so much you can do to hold off the effects of time, and I knew I looked like what I was, a mature woman. Hell, some of my friends the same age or even younger are already grandparents. So, while my mouth was good enough for Dion to let me suck him off, was the rest of me good enough for him to fuck?
    I went to my closet and perused through my lingerie collection and carefully selected an outfit. It wasn’t much of an outfit, but that was kind of the idea. I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. I selected a sheer basque that hugged tightly to my body. My tits were clearly visible through the sheer black fabric, and the bottom of the basque hung at my waist, and I decided to remain bottomless; the lips of my shaved pussy were already wet with a thin sheen of moistness. I matched the outfit with a pair of sheer black stockings that attached to clips hanging off the bottom of the basque.
    I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile. There was zero chance Dion could misinterpret my intentions when he saw me in this. Whereas I remained fully clothed while I sucked him off earlier, now my body was on full display, and I left nothing to his imagination.
    I sat there dressed and feeling my sexiest. I was horny and ready to fuck, but I heard the play by play from the basketball game blaring from the tv in the den where Dion waited. Should I go into the den and try to force myself on him? I wondered if that would come across as too desperate, although, in that moment, I knew I was a horny and desperate woman. Still, I worried if I came on too strong and desperate that I risked alienating him and driving him away. He might decide I was an obsessed, crazed woman and move back out of my house. He seemed so shy earlier, though, that I couldn’t help but wonder if he needed some encouragement to gain enough confidence to take me.
    I decided on a middle ground between throwing myself at him and waiting for him to come find me. I pulled out the container under my bed where I kept my sex toys, and I pulled out a long black dildo. It was 8 inches of pleasure, and I stroked my fingers over it as I laid down on my bed. It was shaped realistically, from the head of the cock to the veins along the shaft and the balls at the end. I bought it several years back, and it had brought me many rounds of pleasure over the years, helping satisfy and fuel my interracial fantasies.
    I slid the dildo into my mouth as deeply as I could take it, wetting the shaft with my tongue. I remembered how Dion’s member felt in my mouth earlier and deeply wished he’d come and take me. The 8’ dildo was a little larger than Dion, and I couldn’t take the whole thing without gagging.
    My horniness already had me on the edge before anything had even touched my pussy, and I pulled the dildo out of my mouth and placed it at the entrance to my vagina. The head of the dildo just barely touched my lips, and I already arched my back in response. I took a deep breath, and then I slid the long black phallic object inside me. A loud moan of satisfaction escaped my lips, and I pushed the entire length of the dildo inside until its balls were pressed against me. Then I held the dildo at full length inside and enjoyed the feel of its shaft filling my pussy, giving me the sexual gratification I’d been desperately seeking. I love having my clitoris stimulated, and that’s still the easiest way for me to orgasm, but there’s something incredibly satisfying about just having my pussy stuffed full of cock.
    “Oh God,” I muttered.
    The door to my room was wide open, and I knew Dion was downstairs directly under me. I imagined it was already him inside me, and I closed my eyes and pinched my nipples with one hand as the other hand started pumping the dildo in and out of me.
    “Oh Dion,” I called out.
    I opened my eyes and saw the long black shaft sliding in and out of me, the dark chocolate color in stark contrast to my bald white pussy.
    I was so horny, already edging, and close to an orgasm. I closed my eyes and slowly moved the dildo, wanting to enjoy the feeling of being on the cusp for longer. I was edging so hard, I was barely moving my sex toy. Any faster, and it would push me over the edge, and I desperately wanted the current feeling to last as long as I could make it.
    “God, that feels so good,” I called out. I’m a vocal lover, and I couldn’t contain my arousal. The gasps and moans were involuntarily coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t contain myself. I didn’t want to contain myself.
    I spread my legs wider as I continued to slowly plunge the dildo back inside me. I’d move it an inch deeper and then wait until I was sure I could slide it another inch without pushing me to an orgasm. My pussy was so aroused, my lips felt swollen to double their size and sensitive to the slightest sensation. The curvature of the head of the dildo. The veins and musculature on the shaft as it slid in. The touch of my fingers as I worked the dildo. How the skin on my fingers felt against my pussy. The hard feel of my nails lightly touching my labia. Just the air in the room as it blew over the wetness on my pussy. I felt everything, and everything turned me on.
    I was so close to a climax, I knew I couldn’t hold back much longer. And now I no longer wanted to hold back. Now I wanted to feel the sweet release, and I stared up into the white ceiling as I plunged the last 3 inches of dildo into me, knowing full well what would happen. The tip of the dildo pressed against my cervix, and it was enough to push me over the edge.
    Now, I furiously pumped the dildo in and out of me as the orgasm washed over my body, determined to pump out every ounce of pleasure from my orgasm.
    “Oh my fucking God!” I screamed, the surrender to my orgasm complete. I didn’t want to suppress any emotion, and I bucked my hips up and down, furiously fucking the dildo as my hand held it in place, desperately seeking to feel it fuck me as hard and fast as possible, wanting to feel every last bit of the climax course through my body.
    As I finally came down from my orgasm, my eyes drifted down, and I saw Dion standing mouth agape at the door. I can only imagine how obscene the sight of me looked with my legs splayed wildly and a large black dildo lewdly dangling out of my pussy. I could feel the large wet spot on the bedsheets under me, as I sat up and looked at him with a sheepish grin.
    This was the moment I wanted. This was the moment I feared. How would Dion react? I searched his face for clues, but all I saw was shock.
    “How – how long were you standing there?” I hoarsely whispered across the room.
    “A couple minutes,” he stated flatly.
    He was standing in the doorway, fully dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. I was suddenly fully aware of my nakedness. I left the door open, hoping he’d find me, and it had worked. He had a horny insatiable woman in front of him. Did the sight of watching me cum turn him on? Did it somehow repulse him?
    “I told you earlier you could have me any time you wanted. I guess I got tired of waiting. Did you like what you saw?” I asked, trying to hide my nervousness.
    “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he admitted.
    My heart was racing, and I moved to close the deal.
    “I’m ready to be fucked if you’re ready for me,” I offered.
    “You’re ready?” he asked. “Looks like you’re already done,” he added with a laugh. “But I’m ready to hit that pussy. That’s for sure.” He spoke with growing confidence and stepped forward into the room, dropping his plants on the floor as he came toward the bed. He stood on his knees on the bed as I pulled his shirt up over his head and threw it on the floor, and he was left in his boxers.
    His manhood peeked out of the front slit on his boxers, and my hands reached out to stroke it.
    “It looks like you’re happy to see me,” I happily observed.
    “I had no idea today would turn out like this,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief while staring down at my naked body, my legs spread wide and my wet pussy inviting him to mount me. “I thought you were just a nice old lady. Now I know you’re a freak. You wear this fancy lingerie just for me?”
    I nodded my head as I looked intently in his eyes while I pulled down his boxers. His hard cock sprung free, bouncing hypnotically right in my face.
    “You shaved,” I remarked in surprise.
    “You promised me a mind-blowing blow job if I did,” he reminded me.
    I laughed and then leaned forward and took his cock into my lips, letting the length of his shaft fill my mouth. Earlier, my dildo felt nice, but it was nothing compared to having Dion’s cock, and I savored it. The feel of his cock throbbing in my mouth. The blood coursing through his veins pulsating against my lips. The taste of his pre-cum leaking out and landing on my tongue. With his pubic hair shaved off, I deep throated the entire length of his shaft, almost gagging, as my bottom lips rubbed against his balls.
    Then I opened my mouth and let him fall out.
    “If you play your cards right, you’ll get plenty of blow jobs from me,” I said with a mischievious smile. “I’d like to cum, too, though,” I said as I laid back on the bed, spread my legs wider and spread my pussy lips to reveal my pink flesh.
    Dion grabbed my ankles and raised my legs up as he pulled forward. I took his cock in my hands and guided him into me.
    “I’ve never done it without protection,” he said.
    “Good,” I replied. “Then I know you don’t have any diseases. Neither do I. I promise you’ll love how a pussy feels without a condom getting in the way.”
    The head of his cock rested at the entrance to my pussy teasing me mercilessly.
    “For the love of God,” I begged him.
    He laughed at my desperation, but he thrust his crotch forward, plunging his cock deep into me, and I shot up on my elbows in reaction and gasped. As I laid back down, he continued staring down at me, leering at my body. He stood with his cock buried in my pussy as his hands reached down and lowered the straps on my basque. Then he lowered my top until my titties were fully revealed.
    “There, that’s better,” he smiled in satisfaction as he started fucking me. He ran his hands along the smooth nylon of my stockings as my legs rested on either of his shoulders.
    “I like the look and feel of these,” he said in amusement at my stockings. “You should wear these more often.
    I appreciated the compliment, but I was in no position to answer coherently as he eagerly fucked me. Earlier, I masturbated myself to an orgasm while imagining Dion fucking me, but now he was fucking me for real, and I was in heaven. Even though he didn’t seem to have a lot of experience, he found a nice rhythm, and his cock pumped me hard and deep. He was fully in control of me, and I wanted him to drive me to an orgasm.
    My hands reached up to his chest and then reached around back to feel his ass. He was built solid, and his body was firm to my touch.
    “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” I warned him.
    Dion laughed. “Oh, I think I know exactly what I’m doing to you.”
    Without the support and form the basque gave my tits, they bounced around as Dion continued to ride me. I saw Dion’s eyes fixated on my titties as they bounced this way and that while he fucked me.
    “Oh, my fucking God,” I screamed, arching my back, as my pussy stirred in arousal.
    “God damn, you’re a horny woman.”
    “Just fuck me. Just fuck me, please,” I begged him.
    He started pounding me just a little faster and harder, and my arousal intensified. I was so wet and approaching an orgasm. My breath became labored, and I laid my head back down on my pillow, resigned to not fight the impending climax. Earlier I had wanted to ride the edge of an orgasm as long as possible, but now I just wanted to feel the release, the explosion. I wanted to feel my own orgasm. I wanted to feel Dion cum inside me and have it dripping out of my pussy.
    I wanted him to mark his territory on me, to cum in my pussy, and claim me as his. In that moment, I belonged to him, and my hands gripped the sheets, my fingers dug in tightly, and I just concentrated on his cock as it drove in and out of me. Every inch of his cock brought me pleasure as it pumped in and out. His cock was throbbing and driving me quickly over the edge.
    “I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna cum!” I cried.
    “You want me to cum inside you?” Dion asked.
    “Yes, oh God, yes,” I answered.
    Was I replying to Dion’s question or answering in reaction to my impending orgasm? It was probably a bit of both. Dion had me close, and he knew it.
    “I want to watch you cum,” he said, as he stared down into my face.
    I closed my eyes and focused on my orgasm. I was so aroused, I came after just a few more thrusts of his cock. Wordless moans and cursing fell from my lips. My body was electrified as the orgasm took hold, and I shuddered in response. My hands reached up to pinch my nipples as the orgasm crested, and I felt my pussy muscles spasming, and then they tightened around Dion’s cock, and he grunted loudly as thrust his cock one last time balls deep into me as he unloaded his seed deep into my vagina.
    I opened my eyes to the sight of Dion still towering over me, my stockinged legs still resting on either shoulder. His cock was quickly softening inside, but my body was still shaking after my orgasm. I was still trying to catch my breath, my tits now gently rising and falling along with my deep breaths as I tried to recover.
    “So now that you’ve had me. Do we have a deal? I’ll be your fuck toy, and you focus on school?” I asked.
    “I think I could get used to this,” he answered.
    “So can I,” I assured him. “it’s going to be a fun school year.”

    Part 5

    My husband returned home from work for the first time in weeks, and it was good to have him home, even though it curtailed my dalliances with Dion.
    Dion was going through final exams for the fall semester, so it was just as well that he focused on his studies. Nevertheless, my husband still worked during day, and Dion and I made time to fulfill our sexual needs as the opportunities presented themselves to us.
    I knew my husband had to leave again in a week for another work trip, but he surprised me when he said, “Why don’t we take a vacation, you, me, and Dion?”
    “What do you mean?” I asked, my husband’s question catching me by surprise.
    “Well, I’ve got a conference in Las Vegas next week, but I’ve been thinking. Dion will be done with classes after this week ,right? He’s been working hard on his studies and been a good student, so I think he might appreciate it if he was rewarded with a little vacation out of town. I’ll be working all week, but you guys would be free to explore the town during the day, and then I could join you two at night. What do you think?”
    I felt a tinge of guilt. My suspected nothing of my true relationship with. He had taken on a father figure role for Dion, and he assumed I performed a similar function. I couldn’t help but marvel at my husband’s naivete, but I quickly worked past any guilt I harbored.
    What did I think? I had to hide my enthusiasm at the possibilities. Sin City. All the glitz and the glamor fueled by gambling and sex. An adult playground. A hedonistic den of debauchery where one can indulge in one’s sins and vices. My husband was proposing to set me loose in Las Vegas with my young teenaged lover.
    “I think it sounds perfect,” I replied.

    ******

    When we invited Dion to come with us to Vegas, he was unusually quiet.
    “What’s wrong?” I asked him. “I thought you might be more excited.”
    Dion went on to explain he would be moving out at the end of the year. I was crestfallen, but Dion reassured us that we had been nothing but the most gracious of hosts and that he felt really conflicted and guilty for leaving. My husband was sad to be losing Dion when he had become almost like a son to him, but he was proud that Dion was learning to become independent and didn’t need us anymore.
    Later on, when I pressed him about it, I learned that he was moving in with my neighbor, Emily. She basically offered him money to move in under the guise that he was responsible for upkeep on her house, and the money that Emily promised him was enough that he no longer had to work his part time job, so he’d have more time to focus on his studies.
    I learned later on that Kathy had made a similar offer to Darius, and he was moving into her house at the same time. On the surface, both Kathy and Emily presented the change as their way of giving back to the community, although I vividly recalled their hushed tones as they inquired about and then began secret affairs with Dion’s friend, Darius. It seems that Kathy decided that sneaking over to Darius apartment for sex sessions was too inconvenient, so she figured out how to get her lover to move into her own house with her husband.
    I suppose I can’t complain since I was guilty of the exact same thing, but who knew I’d started a neighborhood trend when I invited Dion to stay in my house. Emily was also having a secret affair with Darius, and after she realized that Darius was moving in with Kathy, she moved quickly to secure her own steady source of big black cock, and the only other young black man she knew was Dion, so she struck a similar deal with him. As far as their husbands knew, their new boarders job duties were to be a handyman around the house and take care of the yardwork and landscaping upgrades, but Dion admitted to me that their job duties were primarily comprised of sexually satisfying Emily and Kathy.

    ******

    Dion clumsily fumbled and stumbled his way through the TSA airport security checkpoint. The routine of presenting his ID and the ever-changing rules around how to process bags and walk through the metal detectors clearly confused and flustered him.
    “Is this your first time flying?” I asked him after we finally got past the security checkpoint.
    Dion flashed an embarrassed smile. “Yeah,” he admitted. “We didn’t have money to fly anywhere like this. I was always in and out of foster homes, and they were always strapped for cash. A vacation was always just visiting some family an hour’s drive away.”
    “Don’t worry; you’re past the worst of the security now. Just relax from here on out and enjoy the flight. We’ll be there before you know it,” I told him.
    Dion was like a little k** on the plane. He had a window seat, and he spent the whole time peering out, fascinated as we sped down the runway and then took off. He looked on in awe and endless fascination at how the world looked so small below until we finally safely touched down again at our destination.
    We got our rental car, and then Dion’s eyes grew wide as the lights of the Las Vegas strip came into view. He was silent the whole time, his face a look of wonder as we approached the Strip on the short drive from the airport.
    It was already nightfall, but the sidewalks were still full of people. It’s funny how spending a few hours just sitting in an airport and then a plane can take so much out of you, but it does, and we all decided to just rest up for the night so we could start fresh in the morning. We parked our car, checked into the hotel, and then found our way to our room. My husband’s company paid for the room since he was in town for a conference, and we had two king sized beds, so Dion just stayed in our room with us. We clicked off the lights, and soon I heard my husband’s snoring next to me and Dion’s deep drawn heavy breaths from across the room while I sat awake, my mind racing in excitement over all the plans for Dion and myself I had concocted for the upcoming week.

    ******

    Monday

    In the morning, my husband headed to his work conference, which left Dion and myself alone in the hotel room. Knowing that Dion would be moving out soon left me feeling melancholy and bittersweet, but I resolved to make this trip as memorable as I could for him.
    As Dion sat watching tv, I went through my luggage searching for clothes to wear for the day. I noticed a TSA tag indicating that my bag had been inspected. I chuckled at the idea of the TSA inspectors stumbling upon the assortment of sexy clothing and toys that I had packed for the week. If this week was going to be my last week with Dion, then I intended to end our relationship with a bang.
    “You know, my husband is going to be at his conference all day. What ever are we going to do with ourselves?” I asked Dion, feigning a horrible southern belle accent.
    Dion looked at me questioningly. “If we go having sex in this room, you don’t think your husband will know what’s up?”
    I slowly sauntered across the room to him. I was dressed in nothing but a cotton nightie as I pulled the covers down on Dion’s bed. He smiled up at me as he was lay there in a wife beater and short pants.
    “Just keep watching tv. Don’t mind me,” I told him.
    I proceeded to give him a wet sloppy blowjob as ESPN blared from the tv behind me. After a bit, Dion was so worked up, he pulled me off his cock and threw me down on the bed.
    “God damn it, Diana,” he glowered. “How am I supposed to just keep watching tv when you’re doing all that to me.” His tone sounded serious, but his face was all smiles and playful.
    “Oh heavens, are you going to punish me?” For some reason, I continued on in my absurd attempt at a southern belle accent.
    The bottom of my nightie rose up, revealing my pussy, and Dion’s eyes wandered down to my nether regions. His hands spread my legs and lifted my nightie up past my waist, leaving me completely bottomless and exposed.
    “Punishment? I think you’ve been practically begging for this,” Dion said as he lowered his pants and unsheathed his cock.
    He raised my legs into the air as he entered me. For the next few hours, he fucked me with reckless abandon. I screamed in pleasure as his cock relentlessly pounded me into submission until I repeatedly climaxed in joyous cries of ecstasy. I knew my husband had many friends and colleagues at his work conference that would occupy him, so Dion and I had the hotel room to ourselves and all the time in the world to kill. I can only imagine what anyone passing down the hall past our room must have thought as they heard me in the throes of passion. We must have forgotten to put the “Do not disturb” sign outside our door, so housekeeping briefly entered at one point, but they peered into the lewd sight of Dion fucking me doggy style on the bed and mumbled an apology as they beat a hasty retreat.
    It’s funny to feel sentimental about a purely physical relationship, but we both knew our relationship would change as soon as he moved into Emily’s house, and it was as if all the lust, passion, and emotion just poured out of us and into our love making. I realized how much I’d miss the feel of his body against mine. The contrast of his chocolate-colored skin against my lily-white flesh. His rough, calloused hands against my soft touch. Ours was more than just a physical relationship or friends with benefits. I genuinely cared for him and would miss him after he moved out.
    As the lunch hour approached, it was time to actually move beyond our room and start exploring the town. Having skipped breakfast, we were both hungry, and we got dressed to get some food.
    “I don’t think I’ve hardly ever seen you wear panties before,” Dion remarked as he watched me get dressed.
    “That’s because I’ve got a surprise for you,” I hinted. “We’ll walk around and see some sights this afternoon, and we’ll have some fun while doing it,” I said with a wink.
    I went to the restroom to fix my hair and make-up, and I slipped a vibrating egg inside me while in there. When I came back out, Dion was dressed and ready to go. I handed the remote control for the egg to Dion.
    “This is for you to use this afternoon. You’re in control. Of me,” I stated flatly.
    Dion looked perplexed as he stared at the small handheld remote.
    “What is this?” he asked.
    “Press one of the buttons to turn it on,” I told him as I raised my eyes.
    He pressed the button for the low setting, and a small hum filled the silence as the egg started vibrating inside my pussy.
    Dion’s eyes widened as he realized what he was actually controlling.
    I smiled and bit my lip as the egg vibrated away inside me.
    “It’s like a little game we can play,” I said with a knowing smirk. “We’ll go for a walk and tour some of the nearby casinos. Meanwhile, you are free to activate the vibrator inside me whenever you please. It’ll be our sexy little secret while we’re out and about in public. Do you want to play?”
    Dion eagerly agreed, and we were off. It was almost perfect temperatures, about 70 degrees outside. I wore a short dress, although Dion had turned off the vibrator since we left, and I wondered how long it would be until he resumed teasing me. The anticipation kept me on edge and in a state of arousal.
    I caught Dion’s gaze landing on the Vegas showgirls who routinely paraded up and down the strip wearing thong bottoms and pasties covering their nipples. I can’t blame him for having a wandering eye when there’s a half-naked woman in plain sight, although I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. I knew my time with Dion was running short, and I wanted him all to myself.
    We were walking through the majestic architecture of Caesar’s Palace when the egg stirred for the first time. I glared at Dion, and he gave me a gleeful smile. I stopped mid-stride and collected myself as all the other tourists passed around me. I took a deep breath and then we carried on. Dion delighted in my obvious squirming as I struggled to control myself in public. He quickly learned how to toy with my arousal. He’d turn it on, gradually increasing the strength until I was edging hard, and then he’d cruelly shut it off without actually letting me climax. He’d let a few minutes pass before he’d repeat the cycle.
    We continued on like that as we walked through the shops at Caesar’s Palace. Then we made our way to the Venetian and followed the canals through the shops there, as well. All the while, Dion continued teasing me, somehow knowing exactly when I was on the cusp of an orgasm, and then he’d turn it down again when I was seconds away from taking the plunge over the edge. At one point, I was so overcome with my arousal, I stopped and took a seat on a bench. I sat there with my legs splayed open, allowing every passer by an easy look up my dress while I let the egg work its magic on me. I almost cried in frustration as Dion turned it off right before I would have climaxed. I stared daggers at him, my eyes pleading to let me finish, but he just shook his head and looked away.
    People looked oddly at Dion and me as we toured around the casinos. We were out of town and didn’t know anyone in the city, so we were free to openly show our affection for one another, and we took advantage of that opportunity. We’d hold hands, or he’d have his arm around me, his hand often cupping my breast as we walked. I have worked hard to maintain my figure, but I still look more than old enough to be his mother, and I felt some strangers stab me with piercing stares, as if to say I was robbing the cradle. I suppose they weren’t necessarily wrong. I am over 30 years older than Dion, so they weren’t entirely off base. Still, who are they to judge if we’re both adults in a consensual relationship?
    We were standing in front of the Bellagio fountains when Dion finally allowed me to orgasm. The music reached a crescendo as the fountains reached their zenith in a moment that coincided with my own orgasm, and I gasped and tried to contain my emotions while I was literally surrounded by dozens of people. Dion later admitted that he was so mesmerized by the fountain show that he simply forgot to turn off the egg. Even if it was unintentional, I was grateful to finally climax after being teased so hard the entire afternoon. As I descended from my orgasm, I sheepishly looked around at the throng of strangers surrounding me, wondering if any of them had any inkling as to the mind-blowing orgasm this 53-year-old woman just had in public right in front of them.
    That night we went out to dinner after my husband returned from his conference. I was still wearing the egg, and Dion still had the remote control, and he continued to tease me unmercifully all through the meal right in front of my husband.
    “Diana, are you alright,” my husband asked out of concern for my welfare after seeing me awkwardly squirm and wiggle in my chair.
    I just played it off, but I leaned forward on the table and smiled brightly to show that I was okay, even though I was anything but. I bit my lip even though I wanted to scream. As I leaned over the edge of the table, it gave cover as my husband sat across from me so he couldn’t see my hand fall to my side and surreptitiously hike up my dress and rub my wet mound. Dion sat to the side, and his face belied an amused smile as he reveled in my desperation.
    By this point, I’m not sure if it was mercy or cruelty, but Dion increased the egg to its max setting, and it sent me to the moon. I tried to exhale slowly and control myself even as my pussy felt like it was throbbing, ready to explode.
    “Excuse me, ma’am. Would you like more water?” the waiter asked politely.
    Our waiter, a handsome young man was standing right next to me with a clear view of my dress hiked up and my hand in my panties, rubbing at my pussy. His eyes darted down briefly, leaving no doubt he saw what I was up to. I could’ve died, but I tried to act nonchalant, so my husband would not think anything was amiss.
    The waiter held forth the water pitcher, and I mumbled some response that prompted him to refill my glass.
    “Actually, could I get a glass of wine?” I asked after I regained my voice.
    “Of course, madam. Do you know which selection from our wine menu you would like?”
    “It doesn’t matter. Surprise me with whatever you would recommend. And, actually, bring the whole bottle, please,” I asked, desperate for a strong wine to ease my nerves.
    “That’s an excellent idea ordering the wine,” my husband complimented me. “Even though Dion technically can’t drink, still, we can raise a toast to his accomplishments this year. We are here to celebrate, after all. This should be a memorable week.”
    I took a deep breath and fixed my dress, discreetly wiping away my juices off my fingers and onto my napkin as I resumed eating our dinner. I could smell the aroma of my wetness and hoped that no one else could notice it.
    “It certainly is shaping up to be a most memorable week,” I agreed as Dion tried to stifle a laugh.

    ******

    Tuesday
    My head was pounding with a headache, and I was bleary eyed as I awoke in the morning. It was almost 10 AM, so I knew my husband was off at his work conference. Dion lay languidly on the bed next to mine, watching tv.
    “Oh God, how much did I drink last night?” I moaned.
    “Well, your husband just had a small glass. You finished the rest of the bottle.”
    “So, I practically drank the whole bottle myself?” I said in disbelief.
    “Then you ordered a second bottle and finished that off, too,” Dion laughed.
    “You didn’t have any?” I asked in exasperation.
    “I’m u******e,” Dion reminded me.
    All I could do was laugh at my own indiscretion.
    I showered and cleaned myself up, and then I spent the rest of the morning naked with Dion’s cock in my mouth as he watched tv. He just sat up in bed while I was strewn across the bed with my head buried in his lap and my slobber dripping off his cock.
    “Just relax and enjoy your show,” I told him. “I want this week to be special for you, something, you’ll never forget.”
    Dion chuckled. “I think you’re spoiling me. I don’t reckon I’ll get this kind of service on any other vacation the rest of my life.”
    I marveled at how his cock fit so nicely in my mouth. I savored how the tip of his cock felt as it parted my lips. As he hardened, the veins in his cock became visible, and his pre cum leaked out onto my tongue.
    “You teased me yesterday, so now I’ll tease you,” I told him as I repeatedly brought him to the edge of orgasm, only to back off at the last possible moment.
    Eventually, Dion had enough of me teasing him, and his hands grabbed my hair and forced me to finish him off. I gagged as his cum shot to the back of my throat, the salty sweet concoction of his cum essentially serving as my breakfast.
    “We’re in Vegas. We should go do things,” I told him. “You can watch tv at home any old time.”
    “What should we do today?” he asked.
    “Let’s get dressed. I’ve got some ideas.”
    Getting dressed was a relative term for me. I put on an impossibly short dress, and this time I didn’t put on any panties. The top of the dress was a little tight, but I decided not to wear a bra, either. I was wearing a cocktail dress. It was sparkly and looked classy, although it’s short hem and low strapless top left a lot of me revealed. I knew I’d have to be careful not to have my tits pop out of my top. Dion looked me over curiously.
    “You know what they say about Vegas, right?” I cautioned him.
    Dion looked bewildered.
    “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” I informed him.
    Dion laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m down with that.”
    “Good, let’s go.”
    As we went down the hotel elevator, I told Dion, “Technically, you’re supposed to be 21 to gamble since they serve alcohol, but I think you can pass for 21. Besides, you’ll be with me. Just act confident, and you’ll be fine.”
    As we sauntered onto the casino floor, an endless sea of card tables, roulette wheels, and slot machines lay before us. Music blared overhead, and an assortment of every culture, age, and race filled the floor. The old senior citizens who spent their retirement savings all day on the penny slots, rarely even leaving their seat in a joyless pursuit of some elusive jackpot. The regular folks who came to Vegas to live it up in a fantasy world where they dressed and acted like high rollers for a few days. The families just taking in the sites. The Europeans taking in the uniquely American Vegas experience of excess and decadence. The Asian tourists here to revel in the mecca for gambling.
    And then there was Dion and myself. We were mismatched, the 53-year-old white woman on the arm of an 18-year-old young black man. In Sin City, however, we somehow seemed to fit right in with the teeming variety of other oddballs and cultural mainstream outcasts.
    I sat for a while at one of the poker slots while Dion sat next to me. We played for a bit, but my mind was hardly on the machine. I was more focused on turning on Dion, flashing him clear shots of my shaved pussy. Dion took eager notice and kept a wide smile on his face the whole time as he played on his own machine. For a while I rested my legs on Dion’s lap as I continued to play mindlessly on my machine, the hem of my dress rising so high, it was obvious to anyone close by I was not wearing panties.
    A group of other young black men took notice of the show I was giving Dion, and they congregated in our area, taking seats at nearby slots. There was 4 of them, and they all looked to be in their early 20’s. I caught them continuously looking my way, and I was feeling frisky and daring, so I found excuses to occasionally swing my stool in a full circle. As I’d circle around, I made sure they got a good look at me. They whispered amongst themselves, and eventually they approached us.
    “You’re a lucky man,” one of the young black men told Dion, and he blushed. “Is she your woman?”
    “Something like that,” Dion replied.
    “She likes the young black cock, don’t she?” another one added.
    I looked hungrily at the 4 young black men surrounding me. Truth be told, I wanted to invite them back to our hotel room, but I was reminded that this week was for Dion, so I held my tongue.
    “She can’t get enough,” Dion boasted.
    “Respect,” he said as he gave Dion a fist bump. Then he turned to me. “You’re a real fine woman. Aged like a fine wine. We appreciate what you’re doing out here. If you ever want to party with us, you just let us know. I bet you’re all kinds of fun. We hope to see you again.”
    Now it was my turn to blush as they turned and walked away.
    After a while, Dion and I moved to one of the blackjack tables. I was still shaken by our encounter with the other young black men. I shuddered at the thought of my body being ravaged by them, letting them all take turns on me, and I couldn’t erase the idea from my mind.
    To my surprise, two of the young black men we were talking to sat down at open seats at our table. Dion stood behind me as I played blackjack. I was on a lucky run, getting a lot of face cards and aces, and the dealer seemed to be on a run of bad luck, and I quickly was playing with house money.
    Two older men at the table decided they were done and should quit while they were ahead. The other two young black men from earlier joined the action right away, so now it was me playing at the table with the 4 young black men who had approached us earlier. I continued my run of luck, and with each winning hand, my breasts inched closer and closer from bursting free. I knew what was happening, but I intentionally let my fleshy mounds become more and more exposed. The dealer was an older gentleman, and he definitely took in more than an eyeful.
    After another winning hand, I bounced in my chair, and it finally happened. The tops of my areolas were exposed, and I saw the eyebrows raise on the young black men seated at our table.
    “Can you believe my luck?” I asked Dion excitedly as I turned around and made sure he got to enjoy my show as well. Dion just shook his head in disbelief.
    On the next hand, I got blackjack, and I jumped so hard in celebration that my tits fully popped free from my top and bounced in open sight of the entire casino floor. I pretended to be frozen in shocked embarrassment for a few seconds, but I really just wanted to see everyone else’s reaction and make sure that they all had a good look before I feigned embarrassment and stuffed my titties back into my dress.
    Shortly after, I decided that between my winnings and flashing fun I should probably quit while I was ahead, so I cashed out. I left the dealer an extra large tip and then left the table amidst the protests of my new four young black friends who clearly wanted to see even more of me, even though by this point, there was little of me, they hadn’t seen yet.
    I turned around to Dion and said in front of the entire blackjack table, “What do you say we head back to our room and have some fun?”
    By that point, there was hardly anything I could do anymore to shock Dion. He took my arm as the 4 other young black men hooted and hollered, and Dion and I headed back upstairs where we proceeded to make love for a few more hours until it was close to time for my husband to return from his conference. By then, I changed my dress so I could look more presentable like the classy, respectable lady I am supposed to be. After my husband returned, we all headed out to a nice dinner and evening stroll on the strip, my husband completely oblivious to my shenanigans while he was away.

    ******

    Wednesday

    My husband left early for his conference again while Dion and I slept in. I stripped off my clothes and crawled into Dion’s bed and let him wake up to my lips slobbering all over his cock. We spent the rest of the morning lazily lying about, casually having sex. Dion’s cock spent the whole time either in my mouth or pussy, and I remained as amazed as ever at how wide he stretched me out. I spent the whole time enjoying him inside me, although my mind kept thinking how I’d miss how he feels inside me once he moves out.
    Having skipped breakfast to stay in, we both grew hungry as the lunch hour approached.
    “So, what should we do today?” Dion wondered aloud.
    “Don’t worry. I’ve made all the arrangements for today. Let’s grab a bite, and then we’ve got 1 pm appointments.”
    “Appointments for what? What kind of trouble do you have on tap for today?” Dion asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
    “All kinds of fun,” I replied. “Actually, it’ll be totally laid back and relaxing. Just get dressed, and let’s get going.”
    After getting lunch in the food court, I led Dion back to the elevator while Dion begged me to tell him where we were going.
    “Just trust me. This is your week, so you should relax. Don’t stress out,” I insisted.
    I led him through our hotel casino to the on-site spa resort.
    Dion’s face looked bewildered as we walked into the lobby of the spa resort. The relaxing music and over the top feng shui design must have been too much for him.
    “Oh no, no, no, no. This ain’t for me,” Dion complained as he stepped back away from the spa entrance.
    “Trust me,” I insisted, and he hesitantly relented as I dragged him inside and checked us in at the front desk.
    “Hello, Diana, Dion,” a bright-faced concierge announced after we were checked in. “My name is Heather. Follow me. The salon is right this way.”
    As we entered the salon area, she said, “Our associates are here to administer your mani–pedi. Please, have a seat.”
    As soon as she left, Dion looked at me, his eyes pleading. “Diana, I’m out. I’ll just watch. This is all frilly and girly. I know you mean well, but I just can’t do this.”
    “Listen up! This place isn’t cheap, and it’s already paid for,” I responded in a stern voice that clearly startled him. “You’ve trusted me this far. Not just in Vegas, but this whole school year. Have I ever led you wrong? Now you’re going to give up the tough guy act and try something new. If you hate it, fine, you don’t ever have to come back here again. But I’m willing to bet you’ll have more fun here than you ever imagined possible.”
    Dion was clearly taken aback, and he meekly nodded his understanding.
    A young Asian lady and man emerged from the shadows.
    “Are you ready? My name is Vu, and I’ll be serving you today,” she announced as she faced and bowed to Dion.
    “And I am Minh, I will be serving you,” the young Asian man standing next to her said as he did the same for me.
    They motioned to the salon chairs and we each took a seat. Dion’s apprehension and awkwardness were palpable. This whole experience was obviously foreign to him.
    Vu and Minh both looked to be in their early 20’s. Judging by their names, I guessed they were both Vietnamese. Vu was the perfect image of a young delicate Asian lotus flower. Minh was spry with a wiry build that belied the taut muscles on his arms.
    “Please take off socks and shoes,” they told both of us.
    They set our feet into separate tubs filled with small fishes.
    “What the hell is this?” Dion complained.
    “It is the****utic,” Vu explained in a soothing tone. “It is called a fish pedicure. Just relax and let them eat the dead skin off your flesh. You will be left with fresh soft skin. It is good.”
    Dion glared at me, but he remembered how he promised to go along with everything and thought better of going back on his word.
    While the fish nipped away at our dead flesh, Vu and Minh gave us manicures. I watched in amusement as Dion transformed almost before my eyes. He quickly went from a look of abject horror to a more relaxed posture. Vu kept running her fingers up and down his forearms as she repositioned his hands to work on them. Her soft touch and friendly conversation seemed to set him at ease.
    “You are very strong man. You must work out a lot,” she complimented him.
    “I don’t work out as much as I’d like,” Dion replied, downplaying her kind words.
    “Such rough hands,” Vu continued. “You must work hard. Relax, you deserve to be pampered a bit. I can tell, you are not used to others taking care of you, but for today, you let me take care of you.”
    Meanwhile, Minh was expertly handling me, giving my long-neglected nails some badly needed attention.
    “You two, you are - ?” Minh asked, although I understood his confusion. Dion was obviously not my son, and the fact that we had a 30-year age gap made it a leap to assume we were some kind of couple.
    “We are very special friends,” I answered simply.
    After the manicure was done, they removed the fish pedicure tubs and dried off our feet before proceeding to give us formal pedicures.
    Dion looked so uncomfortable while Vu sat at his feet, filing and cleaning his toenails. He looked over at me and smiled gamely, though, his face tacitly acknowledging that it was not as bad as he originally feared.
    Minh was at my feet. I was wearing a short summer dress that only came halfway down my thighs. Whenever I get pedicures, I always make sure to request male technicians, because I always enjoy flashing them, and today was no exception. As usual, I went sans panties, and my pussy moistened as Minh continually stole glances up my dress. He smiled after I caught him looking, both of us fully aware what was going on.
    After the pedicures were done, Heather, the concierge returned, and she led us to a private room dimly lit by an array of scented candles.
    “You can remove your clothing and take a table. The masseuses will be here shortly for your couples massage.”
    Dion looked at me again, and I saw him fighting his disgruntled instinct. Again, he thought the better of it, and he followed suit as I stripped naked and laid down on one of the massage tables. Dion got on the other table, and we lay there in waiting, each of us naked save for a small towel laid across our behinds.
    “What the hell have you gotten me into?” Dion said, shaking his head.
    “Admit it, you enjoyed the mani-pedi.”
    I saw the conflict on his face. He couldn’t bring himself to admit he actually enjoyed it. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” he begrudgingly admitted. “But that don’t mean it’ll be the same for whatever else you may have planned here.”
    “Give it a try. You may be surprised,” I told him.
    The door to the room opened, and in walked a tall, stunning lady and handsome man.
    “Hello, I am Nadia,” the lady introduced herself. “Dion, is it? I will be attending to you.”
    Dion’s eyes perked up at the realization that she was his masseuse. She was a tall 5’10” statuesque blonde-haired beauty with a perfect figure, late 20’s, and a sexy eastern European accent.
    “And Diana, I will be your attendant. I am Alexei,” her partner introduced himself.
    Alexei also spoke with an eastern European accent, and his 6’2” well sculpted body, blonde hair, and chiseled face practically had me swooning. He looked to be about the same age as Nadia. I had specifically requested this pair based on a recommendation from my friend Maria. She said they had done a wonderful job when she and her husband came in for a couples massage last year. She had hinted how they really went above and beyond to pleasure their clients and gave me a big wink as she told me how satisfied she and her husband were by the time they were done.
    Alexei smiled warmly, and I could not wait to feel his hands upon me and judge for myself if Alexei would truly go above and beyond.
    “I must admit, you are one of the odder couples we have served,” Nadia said aloud as she grabbed some oils. “What is your story?”
    Dion went on to explain our mutually beneficial relationship.
    “Your lover, Diana, she looks like a very classy, sophisticated lady, but inside, she is like a tigress, or how do they call it, like a cougar, is she not?”
    Dion was completely enamored by Nadia. I saw how his eyes were glued to the blonde-haired beauty and her impossibly short white dress.
    On my table, Alexei’s skin was incredibly soft and supple, his touch warm and soothing as he laid his hands on my back. I couldn’t hold back the moans and sighs as he relaxed and unknotted my muscles.
    “You must have very special charms to seduce such a young strong man such as Dion,” Alexei commented. “I do not think it is just by luck that you are with someone like him.”
    Alexei’s hands were working magic on me. The massage oil felt nice and warm as he spread it over my skin, and it penetrated into my pores.
    “You are so tense,” Nadia commented. “This must be your first time, no? Are you afraid I will hurt you?”
    “No, it’s just, I’m not used to other people laying hands on me like this. Well, except for Diana,” Dion admitted.
    “Trust Nadia. I will take extra good care for you today. You just relax, and I will take care of everything. I promise, you will enjoy what I will do to you.”
    I saw the look of wonder on Dion’s face as he contemplated what Nadia was insinuating as she placed a blindfold over his eyes. Then Nadia slid off her dress, revealing her fully naked body.
    Alexei approached with a blindfold as well, but I waved him off.
    “I prefer to see, if it is okay,” I whispered to him.
    He just smiled and placed the blindfold onto a side table as I watched Nadia lean over Dion and breath heavily on the back of his neck as her nipples dragged across his back. Even under the blindfold, the surprise on Dion’s face was noticeable.
    “Do you like?” Nadia asked as her naked body crawled on top of Dion.
    Behind me, I heard the soft sounds of rustling clothes as Alexei similarly stripped down and placed them aside.
    “Oh my,” I couldn’t help but exclaim at the sight of his defined abs and strong chest. He wore nothing but a pair of tight briefs, and he had an immense bulge that I couldn’t help staring at.
    “I think I will enjoy this as much as you do,” he smiled as his hands rolled me over from my face down position. As I turned over, the towel slipped to the floor, and I lay there stark naked before Alexei.
    He started slowly, his hands giving my feet a sensuous massage. Then he slowly snaked his way up each of my legs until he was tantalizingly close to my pussy. I was so aroused, my wetness dripped off, and I desperately longed for him to touch me in my most private of areas. Alexei moved past my pussy, however, and he moved to my arms, starting the process all over again, building up my arousal as he worked his way back toward my erogenous zones.
    From across the room, Nadia had also rolled Dion over on his back, and she was giving him a hand job with one hand as her other hand lightly ran across his cheeks and then his chest. With his eyes covered, Dion’s sense of touch was heightened, and he reacted to just the slightest touch from Nadia with involuntary moans.
    Meanwhile, Alexei’s hands circled around my breasts before finally zeroing in on my nipples. I let out a high-pitched shriek of pleasure as he pinched them.
    “It seems I have struck a nerve,” he said in amusement.
    “Please,” I begged Alexei as I spread my legs, inviting him to touch the one part of me he had skipped past.
    He was standing right next to me, and his bulge was practically staring me in the face. I reached out and felt his manhood, my hand slipping inside his briefs. I pulled down his underwear and eagerly took him into my mouth.
    He grabbed the massage oils and applied it directly on my sex, and I squealed in delight as the warm oils splashed onto me.
    Then Alexei’s hands reached down to rub the oil on me. His thumb lightly glided over my clitoris, and I practically melted in his hands. I spread my legs wider, inviting him to full access. Alexei’s fingers slipped inside me, and I gasped. He smiled, fully aware of and enjoying the control he exerted over my body.
    Across the room, Nadia was stuffing her perfectly formed C cup breasts in Dion’s face, and he eagerly received them into his mouth as she continued to jerk him off. Then she released his cock and pulled her body over Dion, deliberately dragging her nicely trimmed pussy over Dion’s abs and torso until she was practically sitting on his face as he inhaled the aroma of her sex organ.
    As Dion’s tongue flicked at her pussy, she unrolled a condom and placed it on him. Then she slid back and inserted him into her and slowly began riding him.
    By now, I was already climaxing as Alexei furiously finger-fucked me. Both Dion and myself were beyond any shame, and we both screamed in pleasure with no cares if the whole hotel could hear us. Alexei immediately lifted my legs into the air and then pressed them even farther back until my ankles were almost to my ears.
    “Oh God,” I cried. “I didn’t even know I was still that flexible.”
    “It’s amazing what a good massage can do to loosen and stretch your muscles,” Alexei remarked.
    His cock plunged into me, and I was delirious in pleasure.
    “Oh my God, Maria was right. You’re worth every penny!” I exclaimed.
    “We aim to please,” Alexei assured me.
    “Mission accomplished!” I screamed as I already felt another orgasm fast approaching.
    I looked over, and Dion looked like he was trying to hold off on his own orgasm, but Nadia was steadily guiding him into port. His hands were enjoying Nadia’s firm breasts, letting them bounce in his hands as she moved up and down on him. He tried to resist, but he soon succumbed to the impending climax and let it happen. Dion arched his back and he grunted loudly as his orgasm burst forth.
    At my massage table, Alexei’s sweat started dripping down on me.
    “You’re giving me a workout,” he observed.
    “Not as hard as the workout you’re giving me,” I replied. “I could get used to this workout, though.”
    He was hovering over my body, my legs still pressed back to my head. He peered down to my eyes as he relentlessly pounded his cock into me. Whereas Nadia had fucked Dion with a nice, steady rhythm, Alexei was plunging his cock fully in and out of me, letting me feel every inch of his girth and length. I became lost in his eyes, and somewhere along the way, I lost control of the rest of my body, another orgasm washing over me as he just smiled down in full confidence that he controlled me like a puppet on a string.
    Alexei pulled out of me as my orgasm subsided, and I looked down and saw Alexei’s condom filled with his white milky ejaculate. I was breathless and covered in a heady mixture of the massage oil, my pussy juices, and sweat.
    “I trust you are both satisfied with your service today.” Nadia commented as she watched me climax.
    Dion ripped off his blindfold and sat open-mouthed as he admired Nadia’s still naked body.
    “I’ve never been more satisfied in my life,” he commented.
    I know I should’ve been jealous, but I couldn’t disagree with his sentiment.
    “We will leave you two now,” Alexei politely added. “Take your time to get dressed. And please, enjoy the rest of your stay in Vegas, and if you want another session like today, you know where to find us. Or maybe you can do for each other what we have done for you.”
    Dion and I sat there for a few minutes, both of us still half dumbfounded and recovering from our massages. Or, more accurately, recovering from our orgasms.
    “Admit it. I was right, wasn’t I?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.
    “I’m never doubting you again,” Dion admitted.

    ******

    Thursday

    My husband was gone again to his conference again by the time I awoke in the morning. My muscles still felt the relaxing aftereffects of the rubdown, and the scent of the massage oils was still faintly detectable on my skin as I awoke to the sight of Dion pleasuring me from below.
    “Oh my. This is quite the way to start the day,” I exclaimed.
    “Just returning the favor,” Dion replied. “You’ve been starting my days with blow jobs this week. Figured you might enjoy the same,” he said as he resumed munching on my mound.
    I wrapped my legs around Dion’s head and arched my back as he quickly brought me to a climax.
    “Jesus,” I said afterword. “I didn’t think anything could wake me up better than a strong espresso, but I stand corrected.”
    Spending the morning making love had become our Vegas morning routine, and I brought Dion to several orgasms as well, letting him fill my pussy and mouth with cum over the course of the morning.
    By the afternoon, we headed to one of the hotel pools. We exited the elevator to a secluded rooftop deck. As we entered the pool area, Dion saw some of the other women around the pool were topless. I saw the confused but happy look on his face.
    “This is a European style pool. Women can go topless if they like,” I explained.
    I saw the realization hit his face. “Oh, I likey like. I’m loving Vegas more and more with each passing day,” Dion remarked.
    “I thought you would,” I said with a laugh.
    I had rented a cabana for us to relax in, and Dion and I settled in. There were many women in thong bikinis, and more than a few of them also paraded around topless.
    I pulled off the shorts and tank top I wore while going through the hotel to reveal my own bikini. It was a classic French style bikini.
    “I’d hate to get sunburned. Would you be a darling and spread sunscreen lotion on me?” I asked Dion with a wide grin.
    “Anything for you, Diana.”
    I pulled a bottle of sunscreen out of my bag and handed it to Dion as I laid front side down on a lounge chair.
    “Where do you want the sunscreen? I’ve never really used this stuff since I don’t burn.”
    “Lucky you, I told him. Go ahead and spread it all over me,” I instructed him.
    Dion obediently fulfilled my request. He started on my legs and worked his way up, my pussy becoming wet as he spread the lotion right up to the edge of my bikini bottom. Then he proceeded to add the lotion to my back. As he did so, I untied the string holding up my top.
    “Wouldn’t want to miss a spot,” I explained.
    After he was done, I turned around, and I left my bikini top behind in the process as I laid down on my back on the lounge chair.
    “My front side could use sunscreen, also,” I told him.
    Dion flashed a toothy grin and proceeded to apply sunscreen to my tummy and chest ,taking an exorbitantly long time on my breasts, and I loved every second of it.
    “You seem really concerned about my tits getting sunburned,” I commented.
    “Yeah, something like that,” he laughed.
    After he finished, I pulled my lounge chair out of our cabana into the sun so that I could catch some rays while Dion went to go play in the pool.
    From the pool, Dion smiled and waved back at me. I was pleased, even after months of having his way sexually with me, that Dion was still checking me out. I noticed more than a few of the other men around the pool were checking me out as well. I tried to act nonchalant and pulled a book out of my bag to read while sunning topless by the poolside.
    “Well, well, well, what do we have here,” a familiar voice boomed.
    I looked over and saw the four young black men we encountered the other day at the poker slot machine and the blackjack table approaching from my left. Soon enough they were on either side of me, two on each side. From across the pool, Dion took notice and watched on curiously.
    I took stock of the young black men surrounding me and smiled back at them. They were all well built and looked clean cut and between 5’10 and 6’ tall and 160 to 200 pounds with lean, fit builds.
    “You gentlemen seem to have taken quite an interest in an old 53-year-old woman. Should I be flattered?” I said as they towered over me.
    “We just wanted to say hello,” one of them explained.
    “It’s just funny how our paths keep crossing again like this,” another one added.
    “And every time we see you, you end up topless,” another one remarked.
    Dion made his way over and joined our small party. I wondered if he was jealous of the attention I was drawing from them.
    “Don’t worry, man,” the first one said. “We’re not trying to move on your woman. It’s just hard to forget that show she gave the other day at the blackjack table,”
    “I can promise she enjoyed it even more than you guys did,” Dion boasted to my surprise.
    The four guys were clearly amused by Dion’s response.
    “What’s your guys’ story?” Dion asked them.
    “We’re all seniors in college on winter break. We play on a D3 football team, but our season’s over, and the semester’s over, so we’re just looking for a good time and to blow off some steam.”
    Dion looked at me and saw the desire in my eyes for our new friends. Nevertheless, the next words out of his mouth still surprised me.
    “She likes to play,” Dion said.
    “What do you mean?” they asked.
    “You saw how she was at the blackjack table. You saw how she flashed you all her bits on the poker slots. She’s like a sex addict. She especially loves the black cock. That’s why she’s with me.”
    “Why are you telling us all this? What’s in it for you?” they wanted to know.
    “Nothing. I’m Dion, and she’s Diana. We’re just out here on a vacation. She’s been real good to me on this trip, but I know Diana, and I know she she’d go back to your room. If you all want to party with her, I promise you she’d be down with that.”
    All four guys turned back to me, awaiting my response, and the next thing I knew we were heading up to their room.
    Their hotel room was just like mine with two king sized beds. Dion took a seat on a chair in the corner by a small table while I sat down on one of the beds.
    “You don’t want first crack at her?” one of them asked Dion.
    Dion just laughed. “I suppose it’s nice of you to offer, but I already came in her twice this morning. I’m about tapped out. She’s about milked me dry this week. As you can see, though, she’s insatiable and still raring to go.”
    The guys turned back to me, and I just exhaled slowly, trying to contain my excitement. I realized I didn’t even know any of their names, even though I had followed them back to their room. Even though I knew I was about to fuck all of them.
    “She’s a big girl,” Dion continued to explain. “She can take it. You ain’t going to hurt her. Just the other week, my buddy and me were tag teaming her. She loves taking two cocks at the same time. And she loves dirty talk. She loves being told what a slut she is.”
    The four guys were licking their lips at me, like tigers ready to pounce.
    “Do you have any ground rules?” one of them asked me.
    “She just don’t do anal,” Dion replied. I was thankful he mentioned this to them. “But everything else is fair game.”
    “Alright, alright, we can respect that,” they conceded.
    One of them came right up to me as I sat on the edge of the bed. His cock was practically staring me in the face, and I couldn’t help but stare back, but his hand reached over and lifted my chin. My heart was racing, and the anticipation was killing me.
    “You’ve been going along with everything, but you’ve been kind of quiet. I want to hear it from you. What do you want to happen right now?”
    I looked around nervously to the four strapping young black men standing before me. Two of them had already taken off their shirts, revealing well developed abs and chests on each of them. They said they played college football, and it showed.
    “I want to be your fuck toy. Treat me like the slut I am,” I said aloud.
    He let go of my chin as he smiled down at me.
    “Stand up,” he said.
    I obeyed, rising up off the bed. Then he proceeded to lift off my tank top. He reached behind me and untied the straps on my bikini top and let it drop to the floor. That left me completely topless, and then he pulled down my shorts and bikini bottom in one motion, leaving me standing completely naked in front of my four new friends.
    A second young man came up and leered over my body before reaching his finger to run it over my pussy.
    “You can already see she’s wet,” he remarked as he held up his fingers, my wetness clearly evident on his fingertips.
    “I don’t even know your names,” I told them.
    “I suppose it’s only polite to be on a first name basis before you fuck a woman. Me, I’m Andre,” said the one who stripped me naked.
    “I’m Will,” said the second one who had just fingered my pussy.
    The other two introduced themselves as Matt and Ted.
    “How do you want to be fucked?” Andre asked me.
    My courage was recovering, and I decided to take charge of the situation.
    “Line up in front of me,” I told them. Seconds later, I was on my knees before them, sucking and jerking them all off.
    Soon I was on the bed on my hands and knees being spit-roasted by Andre and Will while Matt and Ted fondled my tits.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dion still seated in the corner of the room, just watching me drowning in cock.
    “She likes it hard and rough,” Dion promised them. “Don’t be afraid to really give it to her. She looks all classy and sophisticated, but she’s as dirty and slutty as they come.”
    Andre slapped my ass as he started pounding me even harder.
    “He’s right, ain’t he? That’s why you’re flashing your bits to us on the casino floor, giving us real good looks up your dress when you ain’t wearing any panties.”
    “And that’s why you’re top popped off at the blackjack table. That wasn’t no accident, was it?” Will added.
    I would’ve confirmed how all their assumptions about me were correct, but my mouth was stuffed full of their cock, and all I could offer was a garbled grunt in response.
    I was in heaven, though. They all took turns on me in an endless cycle, and I lost count of how many orgasms they pushed me through. After Andre and Will were done spit roasting me, I ended up riding Matt cowgirl style while sucking on Ted’s cock.
    They ravaged my body for 2 hours straight non-stop in a variety of positions, and, by the end, their cum was everywhere on me, dripping out of my pussy and covering my face and tits. Each of my four new friends had deposited at least two loads of cum in or on me, and my body was sore and exhausted by the end of our fuck session.
    “Let’s get you back so you can get cleaned up,” Dion said as he finally stood up. “Your husband will be back soon from his conference, and we need to get you looking presentable again. He ain’t going to like it if he sees you waltzing in dripping in cum from a gangbang.”
    “Husband?” Andre asked incredulously. “You went to Vegas with your husband and brought your boy toy along on the trip?”
    “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” I reminded all the guys as I quickly got dressed and hurried back to my hotel room with Dion.
    We made it back just in time. A few seconds after entering our hotel room, my husband came in. I rudely slammed the bathroom door in his face before he could catch a glimpse of my cum soaked face. I looked in the mirror and saw the cum dried up in my hair and all over my face. I couldn’t believe I walked through the hotel looking like this. I quickly washed it off and then took a shower to get rid of any sign of my afternoon affairs.
    That night, my husband insisted on taking Dion on a proper boys night out in Vegas. I knew he had grown close to Dion and almost looked upon him like a son, so I let them go. Besides, it gave me an excuse to do a little shopping for myself. Spending the week with Dion had afforded me precious little me time, and I savored the opportunity to run out and take care of a couple of things that had been on my mind since we touched down in Vegas. Tomorrow was going to be my last day in Vegas with Dion, and I wanted to make it extra special. I had some ideas in mind, and there were a few things I still needed to do to make those ideas happen.

    ******

    Friday

    I awoke earlier than normal on Friday. My husband was gone for the last day of his conference, but Dion was still sound asleep in the bed next to mine. I realized this was our last full day in Vegas, and I wistfully thought through all my memories with Dion from the week. It was hard to believe he was moving out in a few days, right when it seemed we had grown closer than ever. I think part of me hoped he might change his mind and not leave, even though I knew it was highly unlikely.
    We spent one last morning in our Vegas hotel room making love.
    “You weren’t jealous watching me get fucked by all those guys yesterday?” I asked Dion as he pounded his cock into my pussy.
    “I was all jealous at first when you slept with Darius,” Dion explained, “but after we double teamed you, it opened up my eyes. I know what you’re about now. It’s nothing personal against me, and I’m still getting mine, so it’s all good. Keeping that in mind, you’ve been so good to me on this trip, I knew how much you’d enjoy going back to their hotel room and letting them gangbang you.”
    “Well, if that isn’t just the most romantic thing a gal’s ever heard,” I said with a laugh. “Bless your heart.”
    “So, what do we do today?” Dion asked.
    “Wait right here,” I told him. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” I said as I grabbed a bag out of the closet from my shopping run last night and ran into the restroom.
    I excitedly changed out of my nightgown and into the outfit I bought just last night.
    I called out from the restroom. “Dion, I want you to know. Even though I’ll sleep with other men, I still belong to you.”
    “What are you saying, Diana?”
    “Let me show you,” I answered.
    I stepped out of the restroom, and Dion’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
    My body was nearly naked, save for some pasties over my nipples and a thong bottom. I wore a headdress as I did my best imitation of a Vegas showgirl. I wore a small costume mask over my eyes that did next to nothing to conceal my identity.
    “What is – “ Dion’s voice trailed off in confusion.
    “Well, I saw how fascinated you’ve been the past few days by all the showgirls parading along the strip. I’m a bit older than all of them, but I thought maybe you’d like a Vegas showgirl of your own,” I explained as I twirled around to let him admire me.
    I held two additional items in my hand that I put on in front of Dion. The first item was a collar that I strapped around my neck. The other item was a leash that I attached to the collar.
    “I want you to know that I belong to you. I want the world to know that I belong to you,” I said as I offered the leash to Dion. “I want you to walk me out of this casino and up and down the strip. I want the entire Vegas strip to know that I’m yours.”
    “You want to walk up and down the strip dressed like THAT?” Dion asked incredulously.
    I nodded eagerly. I remembered last night as I ran through ideas on how to make my last day with Dion in Vegas memorable, and this seemed like a good idea in the moment. Now that I had changed into the outfit and I was on the verge of being paraded around virtually naked in public, some doubts started to creep in, although my resolve was strong.
    “Yes, but maybe you should go ahead and take me out before I change my mind,” I warned him.
    “Alright then,” Dion quickly decided before I could change my mind. He grabbed the leash. “Let’s get going.”
    The elevator stopped to pick up other guests on our way down to the casino floor. An old, retired couple who looked to be in their 70’s joined us. The husband kept sneaking leering glances at me while his rotund wife stabbed me with dagger stares of disgust. I just smiled politely, and we silently went our separate ways as we exited on the casino level.
    Everyone’s eyes were drawn to me as Dion led me through the casino. People looked away from their slot machines, and whole tables took a quick break from their poker and blackjack bidding as we passed by. An adrenaline rush filled me. I was scared to death, but I loved every second of it.
    As we got to the outside doors, the Vegas sun stabbed my eyes, but I quickly adjusted, and the radiant afternoon sun felt warmly comforting. I quickly realized it was one thing to be nearly naked on the casino floor. Back inside, there were always large objects obscuring the views, either a line of slot machines, some decorations, plants, statues, or walls that limited who could see me.
    Outside, though, in the clean daylight, I felt like people could see me from a mile away. So many heads turned and gave me every kind of look imaginable. Some people looked upon me with disdain, like the old lady on the elevator. So many more, though, looked on curiously, if not admiringly. Some men ogled me lecherously. Others looked upon me with lust filled eyes.
    So many people stopped us on the streets. Many just wanted to ask what was up with us. Who were we? What was our relationship? They saw the leash that Dion held and wanted to know if I was really his pet or slave, or if it was just some kind of act. Many assumed we were out there as some kind of advertisement for a Vegas show or casino.
    There were so many more who shouted words of encouragement as we passed by. There were others still who were shy about their interest, but I caught them sneaking glances at me. My confidence grew as we went along, and soon my smile was no longer just a brave face, but it reflected the pleasure I derived from my harebrained scheme.
    At first, all the attention rattled Dion a bit. He clearly wasn’t used to being the center of attention in a public environment, and he seemed unsure and almost embarrassed. So many people approached us with words of encouragement, though, that he embraced his role and began to enjoy the attention. We were like stars on the strip as he proudly held up my leash and led me down the strip for all to see.
    We took so many pictures with passerby’s. Everyone who stopped to talk wanted a picture, and we obliged them all. I found the men more often than not put their hands on my ass when we posed for the photos, although they were otherwise hands off. I didn’t mind them copping cheap feels at all; I knew I was practically inviting it dressed as I was on the Vegas strip.
    I had initially been concerned if I was too old to pull off something like this stunt, but the feedback I received was overwhelmingly positive. In fact, more than a few women commented that seeing me was inspirational, and many more said they wished they had my courage and body positivity.
    We passed some of the other Vegas showgirls walking the strip in pairs, and they all appeared tickled by the sight of Dion and me. We ended up taking several pictures with them, as well, and they all complimented us profusely.
    I smiled and held my head high the whole time as Dion slowly paraded me up the strip. Past the Hard Rock and Paris casinos, we continued all the way up until we got to the Venetian. Then we crossed the street and came back the other way, passing by the Mirage and Caesar’s Palace along the way.
    By this point, it was getting later in the afternoon, and I wanted to make sure we made it back to the hotel in time before my husband was released from his conference.
    As we passed the Bellagio fountains, the water show was going off, and we stopped to admire the theatrics again. I looked over and saw a group of businessmen about 50 feet away also admiring the fountains, and I was horrified as I recognized one face in particular, my husband’s, amongst that crowd. I realized that his conference must have ended early on Friday, and he was taking in some of the sites with his work colleagues.
    Close to my husband, I saw the 4 young black men who had gangbanged me just yesterday. They recognized Dion and me and were pointing and waving in our direction.
    I panicked and pulled Dion to me, afraid their animation would draw my husband’s attention to me.
    “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Dion laughed.
    “We have to hurry up and get back to the hotel without drawing any more attention,” I said in a worried tone.
    “With you on a leash and dressed like that? What’s wrong?” Dion asked, sensing my concern.
    I nodded my head in my husband’s direction, and Dion immediately recognized the issue and took charge of the situation. He led us back north and away from my husband. We crossed over to the other side of the street on a walking overpass, and then we beat a hasty retreat to our hotel room.
    I breathed a huge sigh of relief wen we made it back safely, and then Dion and I fell over in laughter.
    “I can’t believe we just did all that,” I said. I was both exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.
    “I can’t believe you went out like that, practically naked in public and let me walk you around on a leash.” Dion added.
    “It was fun. I had a blast, actually, but now I need to go change back before my husband catches me dressed like this,” I said as I grabbed a change of clothes and rushed into the restroom.
    No sooner had I closed the restroom door when I heard the beeping of my husband’s card in the door card reader, and he entered.
    “Surprise! They let us out early on the last day of our conference,” my husband announced.
    “I’ll be right out, honey. I’m just taking care of something,” I called out from the restroom as I hurriedly put away my headdress and mask and put on more proper clothing.
    “Dion, what did have you and Diana been up to today?” he asked.
    “Oh, we just took a little walk up and down the strip,” Dion coolly answered.
    “That’s it? Jesus, Diana, what are you doing with the poor k**. We’re in Vegas. You’ve got to take advantage of that. Dion, I’m sorry that Diana’s been such a boring guide. You really need to learn how to cut loose a bit more and have some fun.”
    “I found the walk quite enjoyable,” Dion answered with a smug grin as I emerged from the bathroom.
    “How about we go out and grab a bite and then maybe catch a show,” I suggested.
    “That’s what I’m talking about,” my husband replied. “Dion, if all you’ve been doing is just walking around, that’s good and all, but prepare yourself; you’re in for a treat tonight. If you’re going to do Vegas, you’ve got to do it right.”
    Dion and I just shared a knowing glance as we put on our shoes and headed back out for the night.

    ******

    Epilogue

    Our return trip from Vegas was uneventful. We all slept on the plane ride back. My husband was exhausted from his conference. Dion and I were exhausted from all of our high adventures through the week. From the morning hotel sex romps to our afternoon excursions with the remote-controlled egg vibrator, flashing on the casino floor, our spa treatments, the topless pool and gangbang with our new friends, and our Vegas Showgirl slave walk, I had set out to give Dion a week he’d never forget, and I had wildly exceeded my original expectations.
    Dion still moved out a few days after we got back, and I was saddened to see him go, but I was happy we were literally able to end our relationship with a bang. Emily constantly badgered Dion as soon as we got back, begging him to move in sooner until he finally relented. I couldn’t bear to see him leave, and I ended up running errands the whole day just to kill time and be away from the house while he moved his things.
    After he was gone, I went down to the basement where he had stayed and was dismayed by how empty and desolate it suddenly felt. I already missed him terribly.
    As I went back upstairs, I spotted some small knickknacks of his lying around the living room. He must’ve obviously missed them when he collected his stuff, and I thought I should go ahead and return them.
    I put the items in a small box to bring back to him. The weather was unseasonably warm, and I thought I’d just take the short walk through my neighborhood to Emily’s house. Along the way, I passed Kathy’s house, although I saw a car in her driveway that I didn’t recognize. As I passed her house, though, I caught sight of Darius fucking Kathy through her living room window. It reminded me of how I was on the other end of it last time, getting fucked by a strong young black man just a few weeks ago as Kathy walked by and caught sight of me. Turnabout is fair play, I guess. I stopped for a second at the surreal sight of Kathy, the bigoted, opinionated self-righteous holier than thou president of our HOA on her couch on all fours as Darius fucked her doggystyle and slapped her ass in the middle of the day for all the neighborhood to see through her living room window. Darius caught sight of me first and gave a friendly wave as if he was in the middle of some benign task like raking leaves. Kathy looked up right after, and we locked eyes. At first, she looked horrified, but then she gave an embarrassed smile, and we both laughed at our shared secret passion for black cock as I just shook my head and went about my way.
    A few minutes later, I approached Emily’s house. I was about to knock on the front door when I heard loud noises emanating from inside her home.
    “Oh God, I’ve needed this so bad!” Emily’s high-pitched voice screamed out.
    “You’ve been missing my black cock in your pussy?” Dion’s familiar voice barked out.
    “I can’t get enough of it!” she answered.
    “Every god damn minute your husband’s out of the house, you want my cock, ain’t that right?” Dion demanded to know.
    “God, I’m such a black cock slut,” Emily cried out.
    “You’re always sending your husband out of the house. You’ve got it so he’s hardly even home anymore, don’t you?”
    “It’s because I need your cock in my pussy.”
    “Say it louder!”
    “I’m a black cock slut!”
    “Louder!” Dion ordered her.
    “I’m a black cock slut!” Emily screamed at the top of her lungs.
    Oh well, I thought to myself. Emily and Dion seemed a little preoccupied, so I figured maybe it was best if I just came back another time to return Dion’s things. Maybe when Emily’s husband was also home.
    On my way back home, I thought back to just a few months ago how innocent Dion had seemed. I had been worried if Dion would be alright when he wasn’t in my care, but I realized in that moment, that he’d be just fine. He’d grown up a lot since I first met him a few months ago. It’s odd to say I felt like a proud mama when I was the one screaming that I was his black cock slut just a few days ago, but that’s how I felt. Who knows, maybe he could even sneak away from Emily’s from time to time, and we could enjoy an occasional fuck for old time’s sake. Our relationship didn’t last long, but I was proud that I played a small part in helping Dion get a real chance in life, and I’m more than certain I got at least as much from our relationship as he did. We’d always have his first fall semester of college that we spent together as well as our trip to Vegas, although you know what they say about what happens in Vegas…

    ******

    The end.
    Published by kwen55
    2 years ago
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