When he opened the jewelry box he looked puzzled, uncomprehending.
"I'm not sure it's the right size" she said as he fingered it and started to blush.
"Well, go on then, try it on" she said sternly.
"Yes mam".































When Anita came home with a new pair of shoes she always had to try them on at once.


























I couldn't help myself. I promised a thousand times never to do it again. But there's something special about young men - or boys maybe. Their trim bodies, oozing feromones or something.
I watch him through the window, his precise movements, his sinewy arms. Abscent-mindedly I slowly stroke my tits through the thin swim-wear fabric, my lips and mouth dry, my breating short.
Without giving him a look I walk out and expose myself to his eyes, slowly stepping into the cool water. With nipples hard as rock I immerse myself and swim in front of him, my moves graceful as it becomes a middle aged woman.
He could be my son! But he's not.
I swim a few strokes, feel light, roll over on my back, then I dive to the stairs where I stand with water to my thighs, giving him ample time to eye me. I feel him gauking at my ass and tits, my hard nipples in my wet swim-wear. He's peeling them off, maybe tearing them off of me (not much to peel actually). I can almost hear his cock growing, streching the confinement of his pants.
I resist asking him to dry me up (there are limits after all) and while rubbing myself I relish in making up an excuse for him to come into the pool house with me ("Hi, I'm Hanna the Slut - no. Hi, I'm wet. NO! Hi, I'm Ms Petri, I thought I heard a strange noise from that pump or whatever it is over in the pool house... can you have a look at it? Here, I'll show you...").
Once in the semi-darkness I'm thrilled by closing and locking the door, seeing his surprised face. I walk up to him, my skin still cool from the swim, he stutters but goes silent when I open his pants, my hand entering his fly, feeling his dick and hot balls. I caress them, I stroke them, I squeeze them until he gasps, I yank them out.
I'm lost, almost coming already as I bend over and pull down my damp bikini pants, offer him my full ass, my wetness, feel his awkward hands on my hips, his eager bone as he penetrates me. (Not so big, but very very hard). I'm jolting while being fucked by the pool boy and I come immediately; and then again; and I show him how to lick me and I come again.
I'm breathless when I kneel on the hard floor, lick my juices from his balls, suck them from his cock.
Sucking the pool boy again.
Gulping on his cock, tasting his young warm cream when he comes, swallowing it, feeling it at the back of my mouth, running down my throat while I squeeze my tits, pull the nipples.
"Mmm" I say, wiping my mouth and chin. "That's what I needed". 
I smile up at him, I look re-assuringly into his anxious eyes and lick off the last drops from his waning cock, suck a little more on it, pull back the skin and suck on the slippery red head, cleaning it up before tucking it back into his pants and zipping up for him. 
"Now get out, go home" I say. When he scrambles to the door I call at him:
"Tell my husband to pay you, put in an extra hour for fixing the pump. And be back on Thursday, the pool will need some cleaning again".

Garm's Kiss

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