My Mrs (Sonia) Robinson

“Then go to your bed, Patrick! Jesus, just cause you’re a boring old bastard doesn’t mean I have to be. The night is young, and so am I!”

It was the culmination to a loud, slurred argument my Uncle Patrick and ‘Aunt’ Sonia had been having since they staggered through the door, blazing drunk, about twenty minutes ago. I’d sat uncomfortably on the couch through it all, pretending to be engrossed in something on my phone as their voices got louder and louder. 

I was staying with them for a few days while I looked for an apartment of my own in the town. Uncle Patrick had suggested it when he heard I’d been offered a job in the area.

“In today’s market you need to be quick, son,” he’d said over the phone a few weeks ago, after my mum insisted I give him a call. “As soon as the decent places get listed they’re filled. You need to be ready to strike or you’ll end up living in a shithole. Me and your auntie have got a spare room that you’re welcome to.”

I knew I should have been grateful (and I was) but I also knew from previous experiences that Patrick and Sonia were a volatile couple. Tonight was the tenth fight they’d had in half as many days, and they were all conducted as loudly as each other.

Patrick was my mum’s brother. He was a big, fat, usually-jolly man, and the favourite uncle of all his nieces and nephews, always ready at family gatherings with a magic trick or a dirty joke, depending on the age of his audience. He and Sonia had only been together a few years, and no one in the family knew if it was going to last. The general consensus was that they’d either be together forever, or one of them would be jailed for the murder of the other. 

Sonia was what my mum called ‘a well built woman’. Somewhere in her late forties, she still dressed like she was much younger; low cut tops and high cut skirts always straining to contain an ample chest, hips and ass. Her hair was dyed an improbable red, and matched the lipstick that she always seemed to wear, regardless of what time of day it was. I suppose if a person was being unkind they could describe her as mutton dressed as lamb, but it was her style, she seemed happy with it, and who was I to judge?

Tonight they had gone out for a few drinks while I stayed home and trawled through page after page of property listings, hoping something new would pop up. I had graduated from college a few months previously, been lucky to land a job almost straight away, and was looking forward to starting the clichéd next chapter of my life. When they returned it was obvious that ‘a few drinks’ had been an understatement. 

I heard them arguing even before they reached the front door, but wasn’t quick enough to gather my stuff up and head to my room before they bundled into the living room. It seemed they were fighting because Sonia had been dancing a bit too closely with another man for my uncle’s liking. That in turn had led Sonia to tell my uncle that if he paid her more attention then maybe she wouldn’t need to look for it from other men. He told her she was drunk. She told him she wasn’t drunk enough. He told her to come to bed. She asked him what was the point in doing that, because it wasn’t as if he was going to be able to ‘get it up’ in his state. I quietly wished the couch would swallow me.

After her telling him the night was young and so was she, Uncle Patrick gave up, headed for the door, fell over the arm of the chair, got back up, asked ‘who put that there’, then bumped his way upstairs to bed. I heard a few more bangs, and then silence. 

“Well,” I said, stretching my arms to emphasise my point, “I think I’ll turn in for the night too.”

“Be a sweetheart and get me the bottle of red from the kitchen first, will you Paulie?” Sonia asked, dropping herself down onto the couch beside me in a puff of perfume and alcohol. The black skirt she was wearing rode so high that only a couple of inches of material prevented me from seeing her underwear, but the top of her black stockings were clearly visible.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Oh for fuck sake don’t you start too! It’s wine, Paul, not heroin.”

“Sure, Sonia,” I said, loathe to be drawn into a fight with her. “No problem.”

When I returned she was unclipping her earrings and placing them on the little table beside the couch. She had kicked off her red stilettoes and they were lying on the rug. She was flexing her toes, the big one on her left foot sticking out bare through a hole.

“Here you go,” I said, placing the bottle and a glass on the table. It was a screw top, so I knew she wouldn’t have any issues getting it open.

“Thank you, darling,” she said rubbing her earlobes with her thumbs and forefingers. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I know it isn’t nice being stuck in the middle of someone else’s argument.”

“It’s fine,” I lied. “Couples fight. It happens.”

“Do you fight with your girlfriend as much as we do? Do we do it a normal amount?” she asked, grabbing the bottle and twisting the top off before filling the glass, spilling almost as much as she successfully poured.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” I replied, edging towards the door. “I haven’t got a girlfriend.”

“Your exes then,” she said.

“None of those either.”

“Really?” she asked, sounding genuinely shocked. “A handsome boy like you? That’s hard to believe.”

It felt strange being called handsome. It wasn’t something anyone other than my mum had ever called me before. Truth was I’d gone through college without once dating anyone. I was effectively invisible as far as the opposite sex were concerned. As Sonia placed the wine bottle back on the table, I couldn’t help but notice the swell of her breasts under her top, and the tiny little bit of red lace bra that peeked out from the centre of her cleavage.

“All true, I’m afraid. No girlfriend, and no ex girlfriends either.”

She patted the space beside her on the couch. “Now that sounds like an unbelievable story. Why don’t you come and sit down and tell me all about it?”

“I really should be getting to bed,” I said. “It’s almost one, and I’m up early in the morning.”

She made a little pouty face. “Will you not sit with me for a few more minutes? If you don’t, I’m going to end up emptying this bottle and crying while I listen to sad songs. It’s in your power to stop that pathetic outcome from happening, Paulie.”

I paused, my hand hovering over the handle. They had been good enough to let me stay there, and it seemed rude to refuse her request. Besides, what difference would half an hour’s less sleep make anyway?

The lounge was arranged with the couch along one wall,  and two armchairs across from it facing inwards. The one beside the door was the one that Uncle Patrick had tripped over earlier. I shrugged and walked over to the other chair, the one that was directly across from where Sonia was sitting, and lowered myself into it.

“Good boy,” Sonia said, beaming a smile at me. “Drink?”

“No thanks, Sonia. I don’t drink.”

“Christ!” she shouted, eyes wide. “You’ve never had a girlfriend, and you don’t take a drink? Next you’ll be telling me you’ve never fucked a girl!”

The embarrassment hit me like a sledgehammer, my face instantly turning red while my mouth opened and closed uselessly, no sound emerging from it other than a tight squeak. I had never expected her to be so forward. I wasn’t a prude, but her openness had left me fully shocked.

“I’m sorry,” she said, arms up and palms facing me. “Honestly didn’t mean any offence. Alcohol loosens my tongue, that’s all.”

She did look genuinely sorry for embarrassing me. I knew that it wasn’t her intention.

“That’s okay,” I managed to say. “No problem.”

She took a little sip of her wine.

“So you’re gay then?”

“What?” I stammered. “No, not gay.”

“Because it’s alright if you are,” she pressed on. “From what I see on the TV it’s all the rage these days, and quite right too. People should do what makes them happy, and fuck anyone who says different.”

“Sonia,” I said, actively working to swallow the cringe, “I’m not gay.”

She looked at me for long few seconds, obviously trying to decide whether or not I was telling the truth.

“Then can you tell me how a fit, handsome young man like you hasn’t been with a woman yet?”

The only sound in the lounge was the ticking of the clock that hung on one wall.

I thought about saying it was time for bed, and getting up and leaving the room, but despite the shock at how it had come around, part of me really wanted to talk about it. And besides, in her declaration of love for the LGBT community, Sonia had become quite animated, shifting about on the couch, and I now had the perfect view up her soft thighs to the black panties that lay between them. They were made from a see-through material, and if she opened her legs just a little bit more I might even get a peek at her slit. I’d never thought about her sexually before, probably because of her age, but sitting there I definitely felt a little twinge from my cock.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I don’t think girls my age would agree with you saying I’m handsome for a start. And I’m definitely not fit. Not compared to the guys who spend half their lives in the gym anyway.”

“Then they’re idiots,” she said firmly. “You might not be all rippling biceps and shoulders, but those men that are that way tend to spend more time looking in the mirror than anything else. And you are undeniably handsome. God, if I was your age I’d give you a ride without a second thought.”

It was her turn to look embarrassed as she realised what she had said. We lapsed into silence again, her taking another drink from the nearly empty glass, me adjusting my position to hopefully better hide my growing erection.

“Okay,” she said eventually. “So if you haven’t had sex with a girl, what have you done?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Other stuff. Other sexual stuff. What have you done and what have you not done? If you don’t mind me asking of course.”

My earlier embarrassment hadn’t fully faded, and now I felt it resurface and surge back through me. I shrugged, not wanting to admit to her that I hadn’t actually done anything sexual with anyone.

“Is it easier if I ask?” she said. “Like, if I ask things and you can tell me if you have or you haven’t. If you want to I mean.”

I nodded.

“Have you… had a blowjob?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. Have you… had a handjob?”

I shook my head again.

“But you do play with yourself, right?”

I pushed the initial shame I felt away and slowly nodded my head.

“A lot?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “What’s a lot?”

“Well, I make myself cum almost every day. Are you the same?”

I noticed a little smile spread across her lips, almost as if she was enjoying knowing that she was making me feel uncomfortable.

“Most days,” I admitted.

Sonia lifted the glass to her lips and drained the last of the wine it. She then reached over for the bottle, her legs falling open as she did, and letting me see clearly her entire crotch area. The black panties were tucked up slightly into her pussy, a little indented line of material running the length of it. I caught my breath as I noticed that her panties there looked damp. 

“Enjoying the view?”

My heart stomach lurched as I realised she was looking straight at me, and that she had caught me staring between her legs.

“S-sorry. I wasn’t.”

She did that little smile again before refilling her glass and placing the bottle back on the table.

“Have you ever touched a girl up?” she continued as if she hadn’t just caught me looking up her skirt.

I was still feeling slightly ashamed, but managed to shake my head.

“Which haven’t you? Tits… or pussy?”

“Both.”

“Not even over clothes?”

I shook my head.

She took another long drink on her wine, before placing the glass on the table beside the bottle. It seemed weird to me that the more she drank the less drunk she appeared to be. Her words weren’t slurred anymore, but I did notice that as she placed the glass on the table her hand was shaking slightly in a way it hadn’t been before.

“Would you like to?”

I nodded.

“No, Paul,” she said. “I mean would you like to right now?”

My eyes widened as it slowly dawned on me what she was suggesting. I nodded my head quickly, not trusting myself to be able to say even the word ‘Yes’.

She moved forward on the couch until she was sitting just perched on the edge of it, her knees now together and her legs pointing to one side, like she was riding a horse side-saddle.

“Come here then,” she said quietly.

I started to stand, before becoming very aware of my now fully hardened dick, and sat back down.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “I’ve been enjoying watching it grow as we chatted. It’s a compliment to me that I’ve had that effect.”

I grimaced slightly. Even though it was now becoming very obvious that Sonia was as eager as I was, this was still unknown territory to me. I hadn’t ever been in the position where a female had acknowledged my erect penis before. It felt weird that having it was okay. But, I stood up again, and Sonia removed a lot of my doubts by looking directly at my dick through my trousers and smiling. 

I walked the three paces that separated us.

“Give me your hand,” she said, holding hers out.

I did as she said, again noticing that she was trembling very slightly. She turned my hand in hers so that she was holding it in such a way that my palm was facing outwards. She pulled down gently, and I let her guide my fingers onto her left breast. Her grip was firm as she traced the outline of it with my fingers. She passed them back and forth over a hard little bump that I quickly realised was her nipple.

She looked up at me, her breathing now much harder than before, and let go off my hand. I almost yelled out in protest, then realised she had only done it so that she could unbutton the front of her top. When it was fully opened her big, white, bra-clad breasts almost tumbled out of it. I had seen the outlines of lots of tits in college, but none like these. Sonia’s were big and heavy, and despite her bra they rested almost on her thighs. I thought I was in heaven until she reached between them and unclasped her front-fastening bra. It opened with an almost audible twang, and her breasts were then fully revealed to me. Her skin was pale and looked softer than anything I had ever seen before. Two big, perfect tits, each ending in a light pink nipple that was hard and inviting. It sounds strange, but I could almost smell them.

“Do you like them?” she asked softly.

“So much,” I replied.

“Touch them. Please.”

I didn’t need to be told twice, and I reached out and repeated what she had done with my hand – tracing my fingertips over skin that was even softer than it had looked. I ran one finger at a time over her nipple, enjoying the difference in sensation. I cupped as much as I could in one hand and lifted, enjoying the weight of it, feeling her flesh between my fingers, before releasing it and letting it drop again, watching the slight ripple than ran through it. I took both of them, one in each hand, and repeated the action, lifting and squeezing before letting them drop. I did it several times, getting two of the fingers on each hand either side of her nipples as I did, pressing them together and rolling her nipples from side to side.

“Fuck,” she breathed. “That feels so good. You can pinch my nipples if you want. I like it.”

I did as she suggested, gripping one between my thumb and forefinger, squeezing it and twisting slightly. She gasped in response. I did the same with both of them, watching how they got redder the more pressure I put on them.

As I played, I felt her hands on the back of my legs, just above the knees. She slid them upwards until she was gripping my ass, squeezing it with much more force than I was using on her tits. My cock was straining so hard that I thought I might cum there and then.

When she leaned forward, opened her mouth and gripped my cock side-on with her teeth through my trousers, I very nearly almost did. 

She breathed deeply and heavily, her breath heating up the fabric of my trousers until I could feel the glow on my dick. She bit down on it, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to let me know she had a firm hold of me, then began to move her head side to side, effectively jerking me off with her teeth.

I let go of one of her tits, holding the other by the nipple, and put my hand on top of her head.

Sonia released my dick and started to rub her face against it, circling it with her nose.

“Does that feel nice?” she purred.

“So nice,” I panted.

She stopped, put her hands on the front of my thighs and pushed me firmly away. I tried to keep a hold of her nipple, but it slipped from my grasp.

“Why?” I asked in despair. “Why did you stop?”

Sonia smiled her most demure smile, and sat back on the couch. 

“You were about ten seconds away from blowing your load in your underwear,” she said matter of factly. “You’ve got a whole life of playing ahead of you, but nights like these are few and far between for me. I want us to take our time. Okay?”

I stared at her tits, almost drooling.

“Okay,” I reluctantly agreed. 

“Don’t look so sad,” she laughed. “Trust me, the best is yet to come. Now be honest – was that really the first time you’ve touched a woman’s breasts?”

“Yeah,” I said. “As tragic as it might be, it’s also true.”

I was starting to become a bit self-conscious again, standing there in the lounge with my cock bulging in my trousers. Sonia definitely didn’t share my shyness, sipping her wine with her tits fully on display.

“It’s not tragic at all,” she said. “In fact, I think it’s an incredible turn on. You have no idea how wet I am right now.”

She opened her legs so wide that I could hear the material of her skirt creaking and rubbing against the outside of her thighs before the whole thing popped up, stopping on her hips.

“Can you see how wet you make me, Paulie?”

I could. Her panties looked wet and shiny even on the outside, and there was a definite silky glistening right at the inside tops of her legs. She let me stare at her for a few seconds, then started to rub a finger up and down the slit between her legs, pressing her panties into herself as she did. When she stopped they were hugging her so tightly that the shape of her pussy was clear and obvious. It looked chubby and soft and beautiful.

“Have you ever smelled a pussy?” she asked. “I know you haven’t touched one, but I also know that some boys like to smell girls’ panties, so maybe you’ve smelled one that way?”

“What? No! Of course not! I’m not a pervert!”

“Calm down, Paulie. It’s perfectly natural to be curious. A bit of panty sniffing is hardly the crime of the century.”

She was teasing me. I knew that she was.

“No,” I said. “I’ve never done that.”

“Do you want to? Do you want to come over here and sniff my panties?”

“Yes please very much so.”

She slid down on the couch until her butt was hanging off the edge of it, then pulled her knees up to her chest, squashing her tits against her body. the position made her pussy bulge stick out even more. 

“Then do it,” she said. “But only sniffing. No touching, yet.”

I really had never smelled a pussy before. I knew it was a thing because of the way guys at college had talked, but hadn’t ever had the chance to experience it. And Sonia was right about sniffing panties – if there had been any available then I’m sure I would have done it, regardless of how creepy it made me, but the sad fact was that again, I’d never had the opportunity.

I crouched down in front of her, then fully onto my knees. Her pussy was maybe a foot away from my face. I breathed in through my nose, trying not to let her know that I was doing it. I don’t know why, but smelling her pussy seemed much more intimate than even fucking her would have. It was somehow a more private act. I could smell her straight away, a musky, earthy but also sweet odour. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever smelled before, and yet my dick instantly knew what it was as it began to strain against my trousers. Even though this was my first pussy sniff, some primal part of me recognised it for what it was.

“Don’t be shy,” Sonia coaxed. “Get closer. Breathe me in.”

I leaned in, and the closer I got, the more powerful the scent became. I don’t think my mouth had ever watered so much before in my life. My shyness slipped away and soon I was taking in big, gulping lungfuls of pussy, breathing her deeply in, filling my body with the smell of her. 

Nothing in the world had ever smelled as good. 

“You like it?” she asked.

“Mhmm.” I replied between breaths.

“You want to see it? Maybe to taste it if you’re a good boy?”

“Please,” I begged. “Please let me see your pussy.”

Her hand brushed against my face as she reached between her legs and slipped her fingers into the side of her panties. She curled her fingers around the material, and slowly began to pull them to the side…

Part Two coming soon.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/rt3130/my_mrs_sonia_robinson

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