Mrs. Crow was the local slag; most people knew it; some deemed to talk to her others avoided her like the plague. Most men admired her secretly; many would have just loved a turn between the sheets with her but dare not admit it. Like most slags Mrs. Crow did not care what anybody thought of her, in fact she was fearless and outspoken, her one and only fear being her husband Bert.
Bert was a mountain of a man who worked on the railway, and was never short of an opinion on anything. He was short tempered, quick to strike out and most of his friends made sure they kept on the right side of him.
Now Mrs. Crow put herself around, she had an ample bosom, which seemed to thrust itself up and at you as if to say, ‘Look at my cleavage don’t you fancy me.’ She was always made up with lipstick, high heels and stockings and often wore tight short skirts. She sauntered with a come and get me if your dare walk and sometimes wore tight jeans which amplified her extensive contoured bottom as she wobbled along. Many local women called her a slag and a tart, and a comment often heard was: ‘she’d have anything in trousers the old slag.’
In fact this was not the case Mrs. Crow was not a prostitute, she chose who she wanted, and her one and only problem was Bert. She dreaded him catching her. Last time he had given her a good hiding and scared her to death. Promiscuity is forced to take some risks; there are even avocates who say that that is the attraction, not the sex but the risk of being caught which sharpens the sexual appetite.
Mrs. Crow worked in the afternoons and some evenings in the local pub; a job which suited her looks and temperament. How the punters loved to watch her pull a pint, what a full frontal view they eyeballed. How they stared at her legs and bottom as she strutted behind the bar and bent down to reach the clean glasses. Mrs. Crow loved every minute of it and she seemed to provide food for the dirty male mind, and she was determined to give dirty thoughts to the clean male mind, not porno izle that she believed such a things.
Young Jamie Clark was a shy, reserved boy of 18. Who had just discovered alcohol; he loved the sensation that stole over him after two glasses of wine, and he would often take a glass or two from his dads wine cabinet. The full joys and sorrows of sex where yet unknown to him and his main relief was masturbation. For this important purpose he kept secreted away among his college books in the bottom of his wardrobe some girly magazines. On this particular day he had left college early and he slipped into the saloon bar to take a class of wine.
Mrs. Crow stared at the bright faced boy over the counter; she had not seen him before but assessed him to be of age. She poured the wine and smiled at him; the boy blushed deeply he was taken aback by her oozing sexuality; her full white breasts embarrassed him. He was tongue-tied. He sat down by the window and looked out on the street, sipping his wine waiting to feel the tingle. The place was almost empty apart from a few regulars scattered about the tables and he felt out of place, strange, as if he did not belong.
Irene Crow had made up her mind to seduce the boy: it would be great fun and make a change from gross groping men. Beside which she sensed he was a shy virgin and the challenge was irresistible. “Are you local,” she asked as she collected the glasses, “I haven’t seen you here before”
“Err, no. I left college early and came in for a drink.” he blushed again.
“It has started to rain. I leave at 3pm, would you like a lift?” This very direct offer embarrassed the boy no end but he accepted and Irene Crow had her way; all that remained now was to get him into her house.
As they drove along Jamie looked down at her knees and long legs noticing her very prominent chest .She turned and smiled at him, “Are you admiring me Youngman? Its ok you have no need to be shy.” Jamie’s face was like a beetroot and he could porno not answer. She smiled and patted him on the knee with a lingering hand.
Once inside the house she took the speechless boy by the hand and led him into her bedroom. He looked bewildered, she smiled sat on the edge of the bed and pulling him towards her began to fondle his privates. “Just relax son. Let aunty Irene do the all the work. She felt him enlarging rapidly as she undid his trousers. Jamie was eager now, his reserve all gone in the excitement. His erection stood bolt upright in his underpants, “There’s my beauty lets see him in the raw.” she lowered his pants hitching them over his rock hard cock. “Wow what a grown up boy you are!” she gazed longingly at his fine cock and tight young balls. She could feel her hormones beginning to stir, her nipples expanding as the thrill of expectation gripped her. She gently gripped his shaft with her right hand and cupped his firm young balls in her left.
“My my your full up,” she licked her lips and looked up at him, provokingly poking her tongue out towards the bulbous end of his penis. He groaned with delight and moved his hip towards her and she pursed her lips and took the end between them tantalizingly holding the head between her lips and flicking the tongue over his knob end. Irene was a master at this type of tease and she could sense the heat building up, she felt his balls tighten and the throbbing pulse of engorged blood filling his cock.
She teasingly drew away and said, “Lets get more comfortable.” She said as she removed her top.
“My God!” said Jamie.
“Steady now” she smiled “let me get my bra off. “Her huge jugs almost burst out and the pouting nipples stood out from her fine dark brown areolas. This intense teasing was more than Jamie’s young flesh and blood could endure, he was aching to shoot and he thrust his cock right into Irene’s mouth spurting a heavy load with a moan and quivering legs, jerking out his cream in powerful jets. Suddenly there rokettube was a clatter and to Irene’s horror the bedroom door was flung wide and there stood Bert. His huge hulk loomed in the doorway and his face was contorted with anger and rage. He leapt at Jamie who was petrified grabbing him round the throat forcing him down onto the bed. “No! No!” screamed Irene, “you’ll kill him!” she was trying desperately to pull Bert off the boy.
Bert turned red with absolute fury, “You dirty whore!” he bellowed lunging his elbow into her stomach and Irene collapsed on the floor moaning and holding her stomach.
Jamie was up in a second bounding for the door, but Bert grabbed him by the collar and wrenched him by force back into the room. “Try that again and I’ll break your neck.” The boy cowered back holding up his arms to protect his face. With a look of contempt Bert locked the door and eyed the sullen pair who were scared to death.
“No, no. please let the boy go it’s not his fault.” pleaded Irene.
“Oh I’m going to let him go.” sniggered Bert “But first he must learn not to play around with other men’s wives even if they are sluts like you.”
“Strip off stark naked and hurry” ordered Bert with a menacing look. After Jamie’s clothes were on the ground, Bert opened the door and frogged marched the naked Jamie downstairs, locking Mrs. Crow in the bedroom behind him. He pushed the boy into his van and when he found a quiet spot, dumped him on the roadside with a wicked laugh.
“Please Mr. Crow; I’m sorry please don’t do this.”
“Get out and consider yourself lucky. Next time I’ll smash your face in.” he pushed the helpless naked boy onto the pavement and drove off feeling much better. Now to deal with his wife.
Many sexual unpremeditated adventures end in disaster just like this; but do the folk involved learn from the sharp statutory lesson? No of course not. Lust is far too powerful to be controlled. Many methods have been tried: self denial, falgellation, prayer and fasting, but nature will have her way, we are her helpless vassals.
As for Mrs. Crow, she had a very blue sore bottom for sometime after this incident, but she soon started to put herself around and teased men in the same old way.