《Watch Me Explode, Daddy》全部章節：第 1 章 - 第 10 章

If you called her a cougar or whatever hot-to-trot name the kids had come up with these days, Marie was liable to curse you out. She was anything but anybody’s cradle robber. Marie was simply Marie, an older woman who happened to be married to a younger man, and who happened to still have the goods to keep his eyes right square on her. Marie wasn’t like other women her age. Not like the ones who had settled into the grandmotherly role, and not like the ones who acted too much like their own children. She was one hell of a fuck and there was no denying that. They could go for hours, non-stop, and he’d be worn out long before her. And she had settled down, as much as a woman like Marie was able to. At forty-three, she wore her shorts mid-thigh instead of barely covering her ass-cheeks. The wildness was in her naturally, always had been. It was one of the main things that had attracted Gavin to Marie in the first place, that and her goddess-like body, of course. She had grown up fas

She was watching him towel off, fresh out of a hot shower. Marie’s eyes travelled the length of his white body, taking in his curly pale hair, blue eyes, thin pink lips. She always lingered on her favourite parts of him, his thick, firm fingers, his long, curved cock. Then Gavin’s eyes began to linger on Marie. Her right foot was firmly planted on a red-velvet-seated golden chair. She was wearing a black vinyl thong and nothing more. She was holding a purple silk scarf. Marie had something in store for him. She reached down and pressed play on the stereo. From the speakers came a song, slow and sensual. Her body began to move to match the tempo. She swayed from side to side, lowering herself to grind in an exotic dance. Then she rose back up, teasing her younger husband with her moves. It was like watching her fifteen years ago. Gavin dropped his towel and walked towards her. Marie took her foot off the chair and nodded towards it. ‘Have a seat,’ she said. ‘I’ve got something spe

It couldn’t be. I studied the cover more closely. It absolutely, definitely was him. Those eyes, high cheekbones, broad shoulders. OK, I’d seen him fully clothed and on the cover of His Best Performance he wore only a pair of swimming trunks – tiny, tight, yellow – but I recognised him beyond doubt. I swallowed a lump in my throat. What was beneath his clothes was nothing short of beautiful. Golden chest, defined abs and a tantalising trail of hair from his naval to the waistband of those itsy-bitsy trunks. Behind him a woman reclined on a sun-lounger, her arms tossed above her head and a towel carefully placed on her naked body to cover the juncture of her thighs, though her full breasts jutted towards the sun. She was the picture of bliss with her eyes shut, back arched and parted mouth upturned in a smile. He’d obviously used the cock I could just decipher the outline of, to give her exactly what she wanted and then some.My heart thudded. I could hear my pulse whooshing through my

He stretched my pussy with his big long fingers, two at least pushing in, easing me open. My spine curled and I squeezed my eyes shut, gripped him with my internal muscles. Electric whips of sensation burned through my core. He was working me with his tongue, fucking me with his fingers. For a moment I imagined I was that beautiful woman on the DVD being serviced as I lounged by a pool in the sunshine. I was glamorous and rich and living in LA. My body young and lithe, my skin flawless and smooth. Thinking nothing of wearing a bikini from dawn to dusk. And the Californian sun could well have been heating me, for my body was feverish, sex-sweat pricking at my flesh. The blistering pressure was growing and building. I gripped his hair and thrust my hips in time with his penetrations. Forgot about that woman in the sun and became me again. Thestar of my own smokin’ porn movie with Jared as my co-star.‘Oh, God, I’m going to come,’ I moaned, throwing my head back against the wall and star

I expect darkness, or at least subdued lighting, but find neither. The room I enter is well lit, and whilst not especially large, I can see at a glance that it is equipped with a dizzying array of toys and implements. I turn in a slow circle, taking stock.A spanking bench dominates one end of the room, and a plain wooden chair, without arms, is at the other end. The wall before me is mirrored. My own rather startled-looking reflection peers back at me from the glass. I took particular care over my appearance this evening, but despite my effortsI look dishevelled and unprepared, my shoulder-length dark hair more tousled than artfully curled. My short red latex skirt is creased so I pull it smooth again, then adjust my black and crimson corset. I can cover my breasts or my abdomen, not both. I opt for my breasts, and twist to check the seam on my thigh-high stockings. Not too shabby.I move across the room to examine the items hanging from a display rail beside the St. Andrew's cross.