“Spread your legs, Mrs. Robinson”
It was a simple command, one she knew very well. She practiced this a least a hundred times.
Mrs. Robinson spread her legs, ignoring the burning sensation of the carpet rubbing on her bare knees.
The cold air brushed against her already wet nethers. Her nipples hardened more than she thought was possible. Mrs. Robinson flexed the muscles in her arms, testing the leather cuffs binding her wrists behind her back. It relaxed her just a little, as did the sensation of the cool night air on the rest of her naked body.
“You like that, don’t you? Mrs. Robinson.” The boy took her by the chin and forced her head up. They
locked eyes. “Tell me how much you like it.”
“I love it, Master,” the older woman replied, in her soft, submissive voice. “Thank you, Master.”
“Do you enjoy showing off your pussy to the world?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Robinson admitted, with just a hint of a shy blush.
“Do you think you’re cute when you spread your legs like this?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Does that make you a slut?”
“Yes. I’m a big Mommy-slut, Master.”
The boy smiled.
“Good girl.”
Mrs. Robinson closed her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. It was utter bliss.
“And what are these?” the younger man said, grabbing Mrs. Robinson’s breasts by the fist-full. “Are these your Mommy-tits?”
Mrs. Robinson laughed. “Yes. That tickles.”
“Oh I bet it does.” The boy began kneading her breasts like they were made of play-dough. “I bet this feels really good.”
He wasn’t wrong. It had been so long since someone touched her like that.
“Yes. Thank you, Master.”
The boy pinched her nipples.
“Ow!”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh … sorry Master. Umm … what was the question?” Sexual worship makes you forgetful.
“I said, ‘Are these your Mommy-tits?’”
Mrs. Robinson smiled again.
“Yes. These are my Mommy-tits. Do you like them, Master?”
“Ha, I love them.” He squeezed again, sending another wave of pleasure through her body.
“But these aren’t just Mommy-tits. These are big fat utters. You have boobs, Mrs. Robinson. Say it back to me. Tell me you have boobs.”
Why did this boy, half her age, make her feel like such a school girl?
“I … I have boobs, Master.”
“No. You have big, fat, Mommy-boobs. Say it to me.”
“I have big, fat, Mommy-boobs.”
“And do you like your big, fat, Mommy-boobs?” The boy said, holding one in each hand.
“Yes, Master.”
“Say it.”
Mrs. Robinson couldn’t hold back the smile.
“Yes. I like my big, fat, Mommy-boobs.”
The boy squeezed. The woman smiled.
“Good. Because I like them too.”
This time, he kissed on the lips. It was slow. Patient. First the lips. Then a little tongue. He came up for air and gazed into her eyes. She saw the excitement, the joy, and just that little tinge of hunger. He dived back in, taking her mouth in his. She had to crane her neck up, lifting her body up to meet his mouth with hers. She gave him everything he wanted. He could have had the rest.
He broke off first. Slowly, with a little parting gift. Their eyes opened and found each other again.
“Stand up.”
The boy helped her to her feet. Standing so close, her eyes only came up to his chin. She could rest her head on his broad, athletic chest. It looked so nice.
“What is this?” The boy said, pointing to the place between her legs and the grool running down her thighs.
Mrs. Robinson smirked. “That’s my pussy.”
“Your big, fat, Mommy-pussy?”
“Yes.” There was no containing the blush this time.
“And is that where I’m going to fuck you later tonight?”
Mrs. Robinson smiled and shrugged in that teasing way she used to do when she was 20. “I don’t know. That’s for you to decide.”
The boy smiled. “Get over here.”
He pulled her close and spun her around, pulling her back tight up against his chest. She felt his muscles against her skin, and his member against her butt. She had to force down the excitement.
The boy wrapped his arms around her body, keeping her in place. One hand found her neck and Mrs. Robinson felt her pussy instantly surrender.
“Has anyone ever called you ‘hot,’ Mrs. Robinson?”
Fuck, this boy teased so well.
“I don’t think anyone has called me hot in over a year, Master.”
“Well you are.” The boy caressed his hand over her body, exploring its curves. “You have a fat, chubby, mom-bod. Did you know that? Say it to me.”
“I have a fat, chubby, mom-bod-”
“And big, fat, Mommy-boobs-”
“And big, fat, Mommy-boobs-”
“And a big, fat, Mommy-pussy-”
“And a big, fat, Mommy-pussy-”
The boy pulled her hair. Knocking the breath out of her. He whispered in her ear.
“And I’m going to fuck you in your tight, fat, Mommy-ass.”
Mrs. Robinson shuddered. The still moment hung like a cloud.
“Yes, Master.”
Without a word, the boy turned Mrs. Robinson to face the bed and shoved her over the edge. Her boobs bounced against the covers as her legs draped over the side, displaying her cheeks at the peak of the curve.
In a second, the boy was on her, straddling her hips from behind. He gabbed her wrists, then her hair, and pulled them back like they were reins and he was riding a horse.
“Just one last thing. I want to hear you beg for it.”
“Please. You’re so close. Just put it in!”
“No.” The boy tugged her hair. “Say it, Mrs. Robinson.”
She felt his member tease her opening. She imagined it forcing her apart, burying itself deep within her. She wanted that feeling so bad.
“Please, Master. Fuck me in my tight, chubby, Mommy-ass.”
“Good girl.”
Mrs. Robinson felt like it happened in slow motion. The boy pressed himself into her. She flexed all the muscles in her body. Her hands grasped for invisible handles.
And she moaned. Moaned like no one would ever know.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/w45peq/say_it_to_me_mrs_robinson_milf_older_womanyounger