A Lesson From The Man Of The House
Older Man Younger Woman Romance
This deliciously dirty story is a part of Susan Fleming’s super-charged, highly lewd collection of love and lust, written in 2015. Those who attempt to steal any part of this goldmine and take it as their own risk being a fiery, hot death from a hunk bearing copyright notices—and she’s not about to play with you.
This is a work of fiction—although we wish that people like this really existed, it’s nothing more than a figment of a very, very overactive imagination. Any resemblance to someone you know, a place you love or a thing you hold dear to your heart is nothing more than a craving in your heart that these carnal desires and actions were true!
It goes without saying that this book oozes with erotic sex appeal, and is filled to the rafters with a smorgasbord of acts that you certainly wouldn’t tell your grandmother about. Bodice-ripping, panty-dropping and glasses-steaming, the scenes contained herein are wickedly naughty!
Although all the saucy characters are flirting with forbidden desires and sometimes taking the naughty fruit they really shouldn’t be, all are consenting adults over the age of 18 and not blood-related. What they are is passionate and eager to fuck and be fucked all day long.
In short, this book is going to get you very, very hot!
A Note to the Naughty Amongst Us
I devote this book as my attempt to satisfy all those forbidden urges we might just happen to share.
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Barebacked By The Professor
Cheerleader: Taken By The Team
Enticed By The Boss
Pleasing The Professor
Two Close With Coworkers
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Table Of Contents
Chapter 1: A Perfect Life
Chapter 2: Blessed In Every Way
Chapter 3: Blast From The Past
Chapter 4: The Good News and The Bad News
Chapter 6: Vegas, Baby
Chapter 7: A War to Remember
Chapter 8: Daddy’s Little Girl
Chapter 1: A Perfect Life
My name is Blake. Blake Thompson. People call me lucky; behind my back, they call me a lucky bastard. I know why they do that, it is just jealousy. But it’s natural to be jealous. I mean how many people have billions of dollars in multiple bank accounts by the time they are 25? Not many.
If you ask me, it all comes down to chances. What were the chances of me ending up with a shit load of money if I was not the first-born or an only child? What if my father had remarried? What if I wanted something different from life? All those things have, or had, a 50% chance at the very least. None of that happened.
My folks died in a car crash when I was 25 and I inherited all of it. And that is all the jealous people see. No one sees that I worked really hard for it. There were people in my father’s company doing their level best to disqualify me, but I worked my ass off and didn’t let anyone get away with their diabolical plans. I still work hard and deserve every penny I own.
Now, another thing that leaves everyone’s jaws dropped is my home. To me, it is just home. What is the first thing that comes to your mind when someone says home? A small two-bedroom house with a nice view, a small kitchen, a tiny bathroom with barely any room to stand, and a small fenced garden?
Well, my home is an estate, a mansion with a 100 rooms, sprawling over hundreds of acres of land, a fenced boundary (electric fences), a stable (I love horse riding), a mini golf area, a vineyard, fastest and latest, even driverless cars as well as my fancy collection of the vintage ones, a helipad, and a runway.
Yes, you heard that right, a runway. With the position that I ended up in, you not only get a shit load of money, but also the right contacts in the government. So now my humble home boasts a runway and my own jets; don’t worry, I don’t take my plane to the grocery store.
But, I will admit, my wife does fly to Paris, Milan, etc. when she needs some retail therapy; and that happens more than once a month. I let her do whatever she wants, but she does not let me do whatever I want. But I have got myself a fair deal; she will give me an heir. We are trying. What’s my thing, you wonder? Well, more on that later.
My wife has two children, my stepchildren, a boy of thirteen and a girl of nearly nineteen. They are good kids, got the looks from their mother, and very spoilt. In spite of what people think about me, I never had it easy. My old folks made me work for everything, and, now I see, it was all for my own good. I wouldn’t have had what I have today if it wasn’t for them and for what they taught me.
So, naturally, I don’t want my stepchildren to have it that easy either. I don’t want to spoil them. I want to make them work for things and I want to make them learn, but my wife does not make that very easy for me. I let them get their way with little things, but nothing like Mercedes for a birthday, like my stepdaughter has been begging.
My wife, Natalia, is a Victoria’s Secret model. She’s 38 but can easily pass for 25. She’s tall, sexy, fair, blonde, blue-eyed, and gorgeous in every sense of the word. She does her Kegel exercises regularly, stays fit, and, well, rewards me with a tight pussy every time.
Now, I knew what I was signing up for, and you know what models are like. I let her have her way as long as she parts her legs for me. Hey, don’t take it the wrong way, I do love her very much. But there is also an awful lot about her that I ignore.
I mean all those shopping trips to Paris and Milan? She can as easily order them; we have the contacts, and have them delivered. The fuel for her trips costs more than her designer dresses. But, boy, is she hot! She does this thing, when she returns from her shopping sprees, she tries on what she’s bought, gets dressed up and ready, make up and all, for me to see. When she returned from her last trip, she came out with her hair dishevelled, wearing brownish makeup, you know the look, multicolored eyeshadow, in a fur coat and Jimmy Choos. No shit! That was actual fur! And that’s not even the best part!
Because, right after that, she struck out a pose, her chin up and head held back, a leg out of the coat (I knew I was in for a treat), and asked, “How do I look?” Boy was I on fire then!
“Babe, you look so fucking hot, I wanna fuck you right now.” I took the hint from the leg she struck out of the coat.
That’s when she parted her coat and gave me a glimpse of heaven. That gorgeous pair of Double D’s, I could gobble. And down below, her tight pink warm pussy; shaved, hot, wet, and ready.
She came on in with that coat on, she’s wild that way. And the even better part? (Because the best parts don’t seem to end here.) As I lay on the recliner, drink in my hand, she got on her knees (we have Iranian rugs), took my hot shaft in her mouth, arched her back, and graced me with a view of her tight ass. As she sucked my cock, she looked right into my eyes, and I leaned forward, running my hand through the fur coat on her back, straight to the parting where the coat ended and her ass began, and plunged my horny finger in.
Chapter 2: Blessed In Every Way
Given everything that I have told you about, and all the things that I have not told you about yet, I am a blessed man. I am blessed in every sense of the word. I’m 6’3” tall, very toned, and well built. I could have worked out more and gotten buffed up, b
ut I chose not to. I work out regularly, got the toned abs and the six-pack I wanted, and now I work out to stay that way. I mean, honestly, I have no desire to get so ripped that I become ugly, if you know what I mean, like those weird ass wrestlers on those supplement bottles.
So, I am perfectly content with my muscular and toned body. I inherited my father’s grey eyes and my mother’s rich brown hair. I have pretty much the same hairstyle and locks as Dr. Derek Shepherd, only mine are brown, so my wife, Natalia, calls me Mc Chocolate. Oh well, she did go out with Patrick a few times around the same time as we met, and now that she is my wife, I am sure you know which one of us is hotter and dreamier.
Going a little below the belt, I am sure you will want to know about the Falcon. Falcon is the name my wife has for my cock. Why, you ask? Well, Falcon 9 is actually a two-stage rocket designed by Space X company. Zoom in on two stage, please. My cock, at nearly 9 inches, 8.7 inches to be exact, well, you can’t wank it with just a hand. That is why I do not wank at all.
When Natalia is in the mood, or wants me to get in the mood, she strokes it. And, to do that, she needs to use both hands. Even both hands do not cover the entire shaft, but, anyway, that should explain the Falcon.
Initially, when Natalia and I started having sex, she could not really take it. The sex was not as good because I had to take care to not go all the way into her. She had to see her gynaecologist for that. There was no problem though, she was told to learn to relax and practice.
I know what you are thinking, and yes most people can easily take a nearly 9-inch cock, but people are different and my wife was not used to it. It is perfect now, though. Now that we have been trying for a baby for the past 2 months, the fucking is at an all time high.
On those days when Natalia is out of town, shopping or whatever, I miss her terribly. I and the Falcon both miss her. I can talk to her, Falcon can’t. I am not a big fan of having to jerk myself off with both my hands, and without her tight pussy, it is nowhere as close to pleasure as it should be. I am more of a fucker anyway, I do not like masturbating. I need the lips of her pussy to stimulate me.
It was during one of those nights when my wife was out of town for a week and I was horny as fuck and went to hangout with my mates. They are all rich bastards like me, so. Anyway, one of them noticed the tent in my pants, and you know how big a tent a 9 incher can make when you are not wearing any boxers, and asked me to relieve myself or something. I told him the same thing as I have told you, that my wife is out of town and jerking off is no fun for me. And it was then that he told me something I did not know I had secretly wanted since as long as I can remember.
Chapter 3: Blast From The Past
Thinking back to my high school days, there is one particular thing that I was really fond of. I was a popular guy in school. I was not popular just because I was rich, although it did contribute to that to an extent. But I know I would have been popular anyway. I was sexy, gorgeous, and well-built back then, just as I am now. I was actively into sports, I played almost everything, participated in swimming competitions, and I was the quarterback on the team.
You know, when you are playing in the field and every girl in the school has a chance to look at you? Well, I cashed all of it. Not to mention my excessive partying and all. But what made me really popular, and the base for my secret desire, goes back to my first swimming competition.
It was after our school had lost three games in a row to another school, none of which I participated in, that the swimming competition with that same school came. Almost everyone came to see, it was sort of highly anticipated, rivalry and all.
The girls went first, and I blame one of the girls for what happened to me. I knew I was gonna win, I knew I was good. But there was this girl, from the other team, I think her name was Chelsea. She came in second, but boy was she hot!
She came out of the swimming pool right where I was standing, and failed to realize she had a wardrobe malfunction. Her swimming suit had become see through after getting wet, and her little perky tits were gonna make their debut. But, before anyone could see, I went in and whispered in her ear, “You have got a wardrobe malfunction, babe.”
“What?” she said, taking off her swimming cap.
I wanted to say your beautiful tits are visible in all their glory, but, instead, I said, “Your dress is see through.”
“Oh my god,” she said, “What?” Then she looked down at her pair of melons, looked up at me, and said, “OH MY GOD!”
She grabbed her beautiful breasts with her own hands, realized she had a long walk to make, then said, “Do me a favor, will you?”
“Sure thing, hon,” I said, unsure of what she was gonna ask.
“I need you to… sort of hug me and carry me to the changing room for girls.”
Boy, was I getting lucky then. She pressed her chest into mine, her boobs against me, and we awkwardly walked to the girls’ changing room. And while we were at it, my soft cock brushed against her cold little pussy, and I ended up with a boner. She got shifty eyed and did not make eye contact once she felt my boner rubbing against her. We made it to the changing room and she ran in quickly.
Then it was time for the boys’ swimming competition. When I went to change, I realized the speedo was too short for my extra large monster. To make things worse, the Falcon was fully erect. I tried stuffing it in, to the sides, this and that, but nothing worked.
I was running out of time and the competition was about to begin, so I sort of thrust the falcon in, facing upwards and going to the side. Falcon’s beak was slightly visible from the waistband, but that was the best I could do then. The competition went fine and we won. I won.
The boys liked me for winning because we finally had at least one victory against that school. The girls, well, that’s another story. They saw the entire length of the Falcon as best as they could, and next thing I know, everyone wanted to ride it.
After the competition ended and people were leaving, I found Chelsea standing near the seats. She was looking at me and then gestured me to come toward her. I went to her, she was still wearing her bathrobe, and she told me she just wanted to thank me for saving her.
She kissed me lightly on the lips, and, I believe, deliberately pressed her boobs against my chest. Then she said, “Oh my god, you are the first guy I have ever kissed. That was my first kiss.”
“And do you regret it?” I said skeptically.
“No, no, of course not, I would not regret even if we…” she trailed off.
“Even if we…what?” I asked. I knew well what she meant or was going to say. I was loving the game we were playing, or I was playing. She was too naive and innocent.
“Nothing,” she said, looking away.
“You would not mind even if we fucked?” I said boldly.
“That is not what I was gonna say,” she said, glaring at me.
“Then, even if we had sex, is that what you were going to say?” I asked.
“Maybe. You know, I haven’t done it before, so I am not sure.” She said shyly.
“There is always a first time for everything,” I said, “like that first kiss you just had. Now, let me give you a proper one.” I added. Then I swooped in, grabbed her head with both my hands, and gave her a proper French kiss. Her eyes closed and so did mine. I got lost in those soft cherry lips. When I broke the kiss, I could see she was totally blown away, sort of high.
Next thing you know, we were back in the changing room. All the girls had left so it was just us. Since she was a virgin, and because we were in a changing room, I had to be gentle instead of fucking the shit out of her like I wanted to.
She lay on the floor and my lips met the virgin lips of her pussy for the first time. She liked it, the way my tongue worked her cunt, I could tell from the way she moaned.
Fast forward a little and I was ready to fuck her for the first time, to take away her virginity, to deflower her. I spat on my cock, positioned myself, but locked her lips with mine before enteri
ng her. I knew what I was going to do and I did not want her screams to be heard. I lifted her slightly, locked her in a hug, and then with one swift stroke, took her virginity. She tried to scream, wide-eyed as she was, but her mouth was locked with mine and I had locked her in a firm embrace. Then I pulled out and went in very, very slowly. I could feel the entire shaft of my cock rub against her tight little hole.
Stepdad Romance: A Lesson From The Man Of The House: (Older Man Younger Woman Romance) Page 1