Given all the men in Charles’s family had gone there, the choice of school for our son was a foregone conclusion. Yet, I was determined to have my say, by at the least visiting to see the place for myself.
Having parked in the School Quad, I stepped from the Range Rover and made my way to the headmaster’s office. The soft wool of the charcoal grey jacket clung beautifully to the curves of my body; the peak lapels of the double-breasted front created a low v shape that gave a tantalising suggestion of the voluptuous delights that lay beneath. The matching skirt was tight across my pert buttocks, falling to my mid-thigh; thighs that were encased in black, lace-topped, hold-up stockings. With the suit, I wore black patent leather Jimmy Choo pumps, with a pointed toe and slim 3-inch heels.
Concluding our meeting, the extremely impressive Headmaster told me one of the Upper Sixth boys was waiting to give me a tour of the school. “I think you know Max,” he smiled, indicating to the strikingly handsome son of one of my best friends, who had just celebrated his eighteenth birthday and was in his last few weeks in the school.
“Hello, Mrs Jones,” the boy greeted me politely, taking my hand with a warm smile.
“Darling Max, what a lovely surprise,” I exclaimed, kissing him lightly on both cheeks. Blushing, he thanked the headmaster and led me away to begin the tour. The journey around the grounds and buildings was extremely interesting; made more so by Max’s appraisal of my pert arse as I walked beside him, and of my cleavage when I stood close when he explained some aspect of school life. A deliciously wicked idea began to take shape in my head during our visit to some of the dormitories. “Do you have your own room as Head of House, Max?” I asked with seeming innocence. His eagerness to show me was amusing and welcome confirmation of my plan; and I deliberately accentuated the sway of my hips whilst the young man followed me up the stairs to his isolated study at the top of the Boarding House.
“Given my position, none of the boys dare come up here without prior approval,” he smiled, his eyes on the delicate swell of my breasts. “And the masters are busy in lessons at this time of day,” Max continued, casting me a meaningful look.
“That must be helpful when you don’t want to be disturbed,” I replied coquettishly, conscious of the sixth former studying my firm bum and long shapely legs as I moved slowly around the room. Reaching his desk, I glanced at the mahogany table lamp.
“But whilst I can see why you need to be left in peace to study theory,” I murmured, running my slender fingers slowly up and down the length of the lamp’s turned wooden column base, “there are some, more practical, subjects that require a little more, shall we say, human interaction?”
“Do you prefer theoretical or practical lessons, Max,” I enquired in a low tone, moving towards him and watching an evident bulge growing in his uniform trousers.
“Whilst I am good at both, I definitely prefer the practical lessons,” the young man grinned cheekily.
“Clever boy. The right answer, first time,” I nodded, taking his hand and guiding him towards the single bed.
“Now, most teachers give merits or gold stars,” I murmured, easing the two buttons free and removing my jacket, before discarding it on the bed. “But I prefer a somewhat different approach to rewarding overachieving students,” I continued, reaching behind my back to unclip the beige and lavender moiré embroidery half-cup bra that encased my heavy breasts.
The young man groaned softly at the sight of my exposed bosom. Smiling with satisfaction at his reaction, I drew down the zipper on the close-fitting wool skirt and slid it down over my hips, before allowing it to fall to the floor. Stepping out of the skirt, I sank gracefully down to perch on the edge of bed. Max looked down at me, his breathing deepening. Reaching forward, I deftly unzipped and tugged down his trousers, followed by his boxers.
“My, my; you really are a big boy,” I purred, wrapping fingers around the throbbing shaft. Parting my red-painted lips, I took the spongy mass of his glans between them, pressing the flat of my tongue against the sensitive underside. The young man stiffened, wincing with pleasure; his hands instinctively grabbing for my hair.
Feeling Max’s manhood grow, I slid my lips down the length, until the tip nudged against the back of my throat. Gagging slightly, I pulled back, leaving lip gloss smeared along the length of his rock-hard member. Looking up, I could see a look of fierce concentration on the young man’s face. Reaching around his hips, I dug manicured nails deep into the pale flesh of his buttocks and plunged back down on his cock.
Feeling the boy’s thighs begin to tremble with the impending orgasm, I squeezed my lips around his girth. Soft moans emanating from my slender throat, I moved my warm mouth purposefully back and forth along the sixth former’s aching manhood.
“Oh, God…I can’t…I’m going to…” Max panted in a panicked voice, twisting his fingers in my long blond hair, before letting out an anguished sob as he lost control. His knees buckled, his hips jerked, and his twitching cock launched ropes of salty muck onto the back of my throat. Holding him tight into me, I coughed and gagged whilst stream after stream of semen pumped into my mouth and slithered down into my stomach.
Feeling the young man slow and soften, I let his cock slip from my glistening mouth; a string of saliva and cum dribbling down from my bruised lips. Pouting up at him, I ran an elegant finger across my chin and then licked it clean of the stray strands.
Rising from the bed, I took gentle hold of his still semi-hard length. Closing fingers around the girth, I pressed my wedding rings into the veiny muscle and began to stroke it. “One of the many things I like about young men is their ability to get hard quickly, and to cum over and over again,” I whispered, my breath hot in his ear.
“One of my many talents,” Max grinned, pulling me closer. Eagerly kissing his way down my neck, his hands grabbed at my firm breasts, stroking and kneading them, before moving his mouth down onto my hardening nipples.
My back arched, pushing my soft mounds of flesh into the schoolboy’s face whilst his lips searched for a thick nipple. “Bite them,” I moaned almost inaudibly, my silver bracelets jangling as I stroked his increasingly hard cock.
“Punish me, Max,” I confirmed, when he looked up in surprise.
“You like it rough, then; I thought that was just in porn films,” Max grinned, fastening his mouth tight around the base of one nipple. Slowly, he bit down on the hard nub between his teeth.
“Oh, God, yes; that’s it; hurt me,” I whined, instinctively tightening my grip on his shaft. Spurred on, the sixth-former sucked and bit on the tender flesh, whilst his fingers pinched and twisted my other nipple. My tortured bosom began to heave as my breathing increased, and my body trembled with the thrill of the pain.
“Please, I need you inside me,” I urged, pulling him by his cock towards the hand basin. Releasing him from my grasp, I leant forward, placing my hands flat on the porcelain and looking back at him in the mirror fixed to the wall. Moving close behind me, Max ripped my thong down so that it fell around my ankles. Then, he pushed my legs further apart, stretching the expensive beige and lavender moiré embroidery underwear to the limit of its elasticity.
Balanced on my Jimmy Choo’s, I felt his rampant member nestling under my firm buttocks. Reaching between my legs, I ran manicured fingernails along the underside of his throbbing shaft, causing him to shudder and let out a strangled cry. “Please, Max, slide it in me. Fuck me with your young cock," I begged, guiding him towards my opening.
“Like this, Mrs Jones,” he teased, the domed glans parting the folds of my labia, before he then plunged the first few inches of his cock into my aching pussy.
“Bella; call me Bella,” I moaned with satisfaction at the invasion; my eyes pleading for him to fill me with his manhood.
“Oh, I think we should stay with Mrs Jones,” he grunted, placing his hands on my hips and burying himself deep inside my pussy, which clenched around his thick girth; “it reminds us both I am fucking one of my mother’s best friends.” My eyes briefly closed as a fleeting feeling of guilt and the realisation of what I was doing hit me. Then the moment passed; and, with a groan of primeval lust, I pressed my arse back onto the teenager’s pelvis.
“In fact, come to think of it, your husband is my little brother’s Godfather, isn’t he, Mrs Jones,” Max taunted, repeatedly and determinedly slamming himself into me, his balls slapping rhythmically against my skin.
“Your brother’s Godfather has no idea that his loving wife is a nasty little tramp,” I whimpered, my eyes wide in response to his violation of my tight mound. “A filthy cheating slut with an insatiable desire to be fucked senseless wherever and whenever she can,” I continued, feeling his hands snake around my torso, before running over my taut belly and up onto my pendulous breasts.
“Oh my God; and my parents think butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth,” he laughed, his hands roughly kneading my boobs, feeling for the aching nipples, which he began to twist and pull as, wincing at the exquisite pain, I implored him to punish me. “This what you want, Mrs Jones?”
“What I want, Max, is your young cock buried in me,” I whimpered, my breathing laboured, an intense feeling growing in my loins; the muscles of my inner walls clenching around his girth.
Lifting my head, I locked eyes with the panting Head of House. “You hear that, Max: your mother’s best friend wants you to ruin her adulterous married cunt with that schoolboy cock,” I hissed, my elegant fingers white as I clutched the porcelain.
Releasing my tortured nipples, Max gripped my hips and began pounding his thick cock into me. “Oh, my fucking God, yes; faster now, that’s a good boy; fuck me harder with that young cock,” I sobbed, feeling my climax building.
Lifting one hand, the marks of his fingers lingering on the pliant flesh, he wrapped some of my now dishevelled blond locks around his fist and yanked my head back. “Fuckkkkk,” I screamed, my back arched and my hips pushed forward; heavy breasts wobbling and my buttocks rippling with each thrust of the schoolboy’s narrow hips.
“Perhaps your son will have this room one day,” Max grunted, his face a sheen of perspiration and effort, “what he won’t know is that his mother was fucked over the basin like some cheap whore.”
“"Oh, God…oh, my God…oh, my fucking God," I sobbed, the orgasm hitting me like a tidal wave, triggered by the utter depravity of his words. My fingers clutched the basin and my mouth fell open in a silent scream whilst my lithe body jerked and twisted against the sixth-former as he pulled me hard against his thrusting pelvis.
Behind me, triggered by the sight of his mother’s friend being reduced to a trembling wreck, Max groaned with release; his body convulsing in time with mine, as he unleashed a torrent of teenage cum deep into my married tunnel.
In a silence punctuated only by our laboured breathing, I held the basin tight whilst balancing unsteadily on shaky and trembling legs. Slowly, my friend’s son withdrew from me; his sticky mess oozing from my raw pussy whilst I recovered.
Turning, I placed a hand lightly on his shoulder and brought my lips to his. “When confirming our choice of school, I will make a point of telling the headmaster what an impression you made on me,” I purred, my fingers running down over his torso. “Oh - and please send your mother my love,” I winked, giving his softening cock a gentle squeeze.
