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“Don’t be afraid to hold me tight,” Lucia Robertson says, her red painted lips glistening as they curl into a smirk.

My fingers are interlocked with hers, our arms outstretched. My other hand rests on the small of her back. With her nod, I wrap my arm around her waist, careful not to touch her butt. Drawing from a confidence I do not feel, I pull her into me, so that our bodies are pressed together, so that her tits are squished against my chest.

“Much better, Michael,” she smiles. The music picks up and she guides me forward two steps, then back, then swings us around in a circle. “See? There’s nothing to it,” she says, “Dancing should be fun, not a chore, you know.”

“Thanks, umm, Mrs Robertson,” I stammer, stumbling over my own feet.

Her grin spreads. “Now, a big flourish. Spin me around on your arm, and then catch me.”

“Like in a movie.”

“Like in a movie,” she repeats with a giggle.

I try it, and I’m awkward, clumsy. But Lucia’s graceful enough for the both of us, and she spins perfectly and then she’s tilting far too much backwards and I remember at the last second what I’m supposed to do here, lunging and catching her. I pull her up and she’s pressed against me, and then we’re dancing again.

“Ooh,” she says, “That gave me tingles, the way you held me. You’re stronger than you know, I think.”

“Hah, yeah,” I mumble.

“Now you take the lead,” she says, “I will tell you what to do, but you guide me through the steps, ok?”

I swallow. “Ok.”

Last year, when Bob and Lucia Robertson moved into the mansion across the street, my parents and the other neighborhood gossips swarmed and buzzed like a hive of bees. They made gestures of indignation and clucked their tongues, “A trophy wife?!” “What does she even see in him?” “He’s so fat, and old, and why does he think that comb-over looks good?” “Well, she’s there for his money, obviously, but can you imagine, living as a … well, I won’t say the word, but you know what I mean.” “Have you seen those breasts? They’re ridiculous. Must be fake.” “She says she’s his wife, but it’s more like she’s his nursemaid.” “Can you believe he bought her that huge truck?”

But of course, to Bob and Lucia’s faces, everyone was super nice.

“Thank you so much, Lucia,” my mother had said, “We really appreciate your help while we’re out of town.”

“Not a problem, they’ll be easy to take after.” Lucia smiled, tight body wrapped in tight workout clothes. She’d been jogging past our house when Mom had flagged her down. “I didn’t even know you had cats. I’ve always wanted one, but Bob’s allergic.” She was perched on a barstool in the kitchen, opposite the island from my mother.

I was hanging back, leaning against the doorjamb, lodged on the threshold between living room and kitchen. This wasn’t my conversation, and I was barely even evesdropping. Rather, I was enamored by the way Lucia’s round ass rested on the stool’s cushion, daydreaming what it would be like if I could’ve replaced the cushion with my face.

“Mmhmm,” Mom said, that grin that looked like a grimace.

Lucia sipped from a glass of water. “If I can ask, where are you going?”

“Oh!” My Mom seemed willing to fill the awkwardness with words. “My sister’s kid, she’s getting married. They live back east, you know, so we’re flying out, taking Michael there,” she nodded at me, “And his siblings, too.”

At my name, Lucia turned her head over her shoulder and gave me a knowing grin, like she’d been aware of my ogling. And that grin of hers — perceptive, but also very, very cute. Her tan complexion and big dimples and round cheeks and hazel eyes and bronze wavy hair tucked into a tight bun hit me on an animal level, and my breath caught.

“That’ll be so much fun,” she said, “And I’m sure you’re going to tear up the dancefloor, Michael. Are you getting your moves ready?”

My mom scoffed.

I looked at the ground sheepishly. “Uhhh…”

My mom said, “Do you even know how to dance, Michael?”

“I mean…”

“What?” Lucia’s eyes widened, “What do you mean, you don’t know how to dance? Everybody knows how to dance.”

“Yeah, I just, like, never did it.”

“No no no,” she said, “How old are you, Michael?”

“Twenty,” I cringed.

But she didn’t judge. “When I was twenty,” she said, “I practically lived in the dance clubs.”

“Oh.” My cheeks warmed uncomfortably.

“This just won’t do,” she continued, “I will teach you. What are you doing this afternoon?”

It was a Tuesday in July and I was a full-time student on my summer break. “Nothing.”

“Excellent. Come to my house, you know the one? Across the street. Come by after lunch, right? And I will teach you to dance. There’s nothing to it, and I’m a good teacher. Ok?”

“Uhh…” I looked at Mom for support, but she just shrugged.

And that’s how I end up with Lucia in my arms, looking up at me, all grins and cleavage in her tight red dress. Bob is upstairs, napping she says. Yet I feel guilty, or nervous at least, dancing with his wife while she wears a sexy outfit that barely covers her tits and ass.

“Step, one two,” she says, taking us through the paces, “Step, one two. Step, one two.” Her lips glisten as they curve into her dimples, and her breasts flatten against my chest as we move.

I steal another glance, I can’t help it.

She catches me looking, and she winks. “Here,” she says, “That was too formal. Let’s do a club dance.” She changes the music, something much more uptempo. “You ready?”

I swallow and steel myself. “Sure.”

She spins around and leans into me, pressing her back to my chest, her ass to my crotch. Her hips swinging side to side, she rubs her butt on me as she dances. As the fabric twists and swings and waves, the shape of her round ass shows through. Two perfect swells, full and plump and tight.

“Uh… what do I do?” My hands are frozen awkwardly, halfway reaching out.

She keeps her ass pressed against me as she sambas. “C’mon,” she says, “You dance with me, silly. Grab my hips, move with me.” She bends at the waist, pushing her butt out and into my lap.

The curve of her hips down to her tight little waistline makes my heart beat faster, as does the way her dress is snug over her flat belly, but I manage to follow her instructions, gripping her. The fabric of her dress is silky and soft, and I press my fingers in to get a firm hold, her hips swinging expertly below my nervous clasp.

“Excellent,” she says, “Now, just move with the music.” And I wondered she’d been grinding against me before. Her butt shoves against me, running in circles, and I have to push back into her just to not fall over. She giggles, arching her back as she twerks her ass.

To my horror, my cock begins growing stiff, making a tent in my khaki pants. I grit my teeth and hope she won’t notice.

But she keeps rubbing her butt on me, her ass cheeks now batting my erection side to side. This of course only makes it stiffer.

She giggles again. “I see you’re enjoying.” Her gaze is on my crotch. She definitely notices.

I whimper and take a desperate step backwards, wanting nothing other than this shameful moment to be passed. But I can’t step back, I’m against a chair, and I stumble, losing my balance, tripping over. The seat is large and well cushioned, so it breaks my fall. “I’m sorry–”

“Sorry for what?” she says, pushing my chest back into the seat, sitting down on my lap. She continues swinging her hips, grinding her ass into my lap as I rest on the chair.

“I’m– I’m–” I stammer.

“Dancing is sexy, don’t you think?” she smiles at me over her shoulder, “Don’t try to hide your arousal. Use it!”

“Use it?” I whimper.

“Yes! Use that energy in your dancing. Share that energy with me!”

I slide my hands up her belly, gripping her just beneath her chest. I can feel the weight of her heavy tits bouncing as they brush against my hands.

“Yes! Pull me into you, let me feel your need!”

Her head is on my shoulder, her tits fill my hands. They’re big, full, perky. I squeeze them through her dress. She gasps, writhes, shimmies her shoulders until the dress slips down. Her breasts pop free, and then I’m holding her bare flesh in my palms, pinching her nipples between my thumbs and index fingers.

“Yes!” she pants, her breath hot on my ear, her ass grinding on my erection, “Yes…”

She takes my hand off her tit, and I think I’ve done something wrong. But as she places it on her thigh, far too close to her sex than is polite, I find out.

She spreads her legs, and I cup her sex, rubbing her though her lace panties. My fingers move of their own volition, I haven’t told them to do this. But she’s hot and tight and soaking wet, so there’s not stopping them.

“I wanna see your fat fucking cock,” she hisses, “Show it to me.”

“But your husband…”

“What about him?”

“Yeah,” a man’s voice calls out, “What about me?”

The entire universe comes to a halt. My breath dies with a sad squeak. I pull my one hand off Lucia’s tit, my other away from her pussy. “I’m– I’m– I’m–” I have no idea what to say.

Lucia frowns. “What? You thought he didn’t know?”

“No!? Know what?”

“Put your hands back on me,” she says, grabbing my wrists, moving my limbs when they don’t do what she wants. “Bob likes to watch his pretty young wife get taken by bulls such as yourself. Now are you going to show me your cock or not?”

I look across the room, meet Bob’s gaze. He’s old, bald, grinning at the two of us as he sips tawny liquid from a snifter. Ice clinks as he sets the glass down.

“Uh…”

Lucia’s tongue slides up my ear, her breath hot as she whispers, “I’m so horny for your cum, Michael. Can I see it?”

Weakly, I nod.

“Yes!” she cheers, sitting up and straddling my belly. She unbuttons my pants and pulls my cock out, grabbing it, rubbing her fingertips up its underside. “I’m a lucky girl. I just knew you had a nice, big dick. And look how full your balls are.” She hikes her dress up, bunches it together over her hips.

My jaw drops. Her ass, her perfect, round, gorgeous ass… it’s bare but for a tiny little string of fabric that runs up between her glorious cheeks. She arches her back, and it’s right in front of my face. I grab it, squeeze it, spank it.

She lays down on me, putting her crotch on my face. I pull her panties to the side, slide my tongue into her pussy. I’m aware Bob is watching. I’m in his chair, eating out his wife as he watches on, and it just makes me harder. Lucia’s fingers wrap around my balls. My sac is taut and heavy and her teasing touch is just divine.

And that’s when she takes my dick, my fat, rock-hard shaft and swollen head, and slides it into her mouth. I groan loudly. Her lips are soft and strong as they slicken down my girth, her tongue silky as she swirls it around my cock. She starts to pull away, but I grab her head, shove her down. I’m not sure what I should be doing, I’m way beyond my experience. Do I let her stay in charge? Or do I continue taking control? But she makes an amused muffled gasp, and then I feel the wet gurgling of my dick violating her throat.

I’ve still got her crotch in my face, so I shove a thumb in her ass and lick her clit. I’ve never done that to a girl before, either, but I’m feeling emboldened by having an audience, a need to show off, to try out stuff I’ve only seen in porn. And Lucia seems to really like it, she’s not resisting me at all. She takes everything I give her and moans in pleasure as I do it.

I suck her clit while fingering her. I’m rough, really fucking her with my fingers, my thumb intruding on her ass. She gets wetter and wetter, her hips thrusting onto my face, pushing back onto my hand.

At that moment, it clicks. I know what I have to do.

I pull her face off my cock, push her to the floor. On her hands and knees, I bend her over the coffee table. She looks at me over her shoulder, face dripping with spit, understanding. She arches her back, pushes her ass out. “What’re you going to do to me?”

“Whatever I want,” I growl. I kneel behind her, spreading her cheeks wide.

“That’s right, you fucking stud.” A bead of fluid drips from her pussy.

My cock stands stiff from my hips, swinging. It brushes against her asshole, feeling her heat, her arousal. I run my hands up her sides, sliding them under her dress. Her skin is sticky with sweat as I grab onto her hips.

“Bob’s not allowed to do this, you know.”

“Then you’ll be nice and tight for me.” I shove into her, my fat shaft skewering her ass. ‘Tight’ doesn’t even start to describe it, her ass has such a grip on my cock, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt. I mean to go slow, to tease her with the head of my cock, but the torrent of pleasure takes control over me, and I shove in deeper and deeper.

She yelps, squirms. Her calves quiver, her hands scramble along the table.

I keep going, penetrating her more. Her ass stretches wide around my shaft as my fingers dig into her waist.

“You went all the way in…” she whimpers, makeup smearing, tears running down her face.

“No I haven’t,” I growl, packing my cock in farther, “Not yet.” I don’t stop until my hips rest against her ass. She writhes, and I shove her down against the table, holding her in place as I start pulling out, working my dick like a piston.

With each thrust, she squeals and squirms. I’m in ecstasy, fucking her ass while she reaches down, fingering herself. I grit my teeth and pound my cock in her, holding nothing back.

“Don’t stop!” she moans, “You’re making me cum…”

There’s no danger of me stopping. Her ass spasms as I fuck her, squeezing me with powerful grip. It’s all I can do not to cum myself… but I have other plans.

I pull out, roll her onto her back. She gasps as I stand over her, my cock aimed at her face. Just as she grabs it, a hot, white jet of cum blasts out, right into her eye.

She gasps, another rope joins the first. I paint her face white, her lips running thick with my glaze. More and more spunk shoots from me until it oozes out, a thick sticky mess. I make sure to get it all on her, wrenching every last drop out. Her face is covered, cum drips from her chin onto her tits.

“Ohhh,” she wails, eyes wide in awe.

As my cock goes limp, I collapse back into the chair. I don’t know where that came from, I’ve never done anything like that before. But seeing her coated in my semen is just so amazing. She runs a finger through it, a look of amazed shock on her face.

“Come here,” I hear Bob say. She stands and walks to him, still dripping in my spunk.

I shake my head and make my exit.

NSFW: yes

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