Ella's Boarding House

An older lady from abroad asked if I would write a story about a mature widow being seduced by a much younger man. She had three specific requests. First, she wanted her name and age (58) to be used along with being written in a fashion that didn't paint the woman as a cock hungry cougar waiting to pounce. Second, she wanted it to be about one of those older women you meet who's sort of a flirt and giggly by nature. You know the one I'm talking about, an extra pound or two, rather buxom, always a smile on their face and a kind word on their lips. Third, she did not want to preview the story, but rather to wait until she saw her name in the title of a story on Literotica.

I know the boarding house theme is anything but new, you might call this my contribution, adding to the dozens written before mine. The story is short compared to many of my other submissions, but it sure was fun to write. Ella, thank you for trusting me with your idea, I sincerely hope this met your expectations.

Ella's Boarding House

I felt his cock swell and twitch as he began to slow slightly, his strokes seemingly more purposeful than the hard slamming he'd been doing for some time now. I could feel it pulse and knew my reward was on the way. He'd slowly undressed my older plump body, not making fun of tits that to me always seemed too big for my body, nor the large nipples. Though there are some stretch marks, my breasts no longer stand proud like they did at 25, and yet, he eagerly put the hard nipples into his mouth. Pulling my breasts together so the nipples were side by side, he momentarily sucked both at the same time.

The large cup industrial strength bra lay on the floor along with my rumpled cotton house dress. No sexy lace or frills here, just a simple heavy-duty bra that held everything in place. When he slid his hands inside my waist high white cotton briefs, there was no look of disapproval as I watched him in the mirror, no smirk as my greying bush came into view. I was warm and wet inside, but he would need to make me wet on the outside by other means, preferably his tongue. Moving me onto my back instead of sitting astride his legs he grabbed the waistband of my panties and uttered softly, "lift", raising my hips he slid them off in one deft movement.

Placing his hands on my knees he opened me completely, I wanted to be embarrassed at my nakedness, my pussy wide open and on display. Anxious for what it had been missing since my childhood sweetheart, my loving late husband Andrew, had died four years prior. Four years of having no one's hands on my most private parts except me. I'd never been one to pleasure myself, after all, why would I when I had a well-hung cock master disguised as my husband exercising his conjugal rights no less than three to four times a week.

I missed that warm sensuous feeling in my tummy and nether region that came with foreplay. I didn't think I could duplicate those feelings and sensations by trying to pleasure myself, and at the age of 58 I wasn't going to try. Reality overtook my thinking process when I watched him put an index finger in my mouth to make wet. Sliding the saliva coated finger inside me he began to slowly move it in and out of my vagina. It took no time before my hips began to raise and lower with the strokes, I smiled thinking that Andrew would have said it was like riding a bike. You may be out of practice, but you never really forget.

As he sucked my rather large nipples, moving from one to the other, I found my fingers had woven into his hair. Slowly, ever so slowly I began pushing his head down my body, my body was on fire, with his finger still inside he softly kissed the pudenda. I shrieked and humped into his face, from that point forward I was his to do with as he pleased. The fingers of his free hand were gently tracing through my bush, it isn't one that covers my entire mons, it's rather small compared to some of the girls I see in the showers at the YWCA, but it's thick with long curly hair. I smiled thinking about how as a young girl I would watch the kittens feeding, their little paws stimulating the udder for her to let down milk. That's what it seemed like, him slowly massaging my tummy as he was about to lick, urging me toward the ultimate goal, an orgasm.

My tits were splayed to the sides as he withdrew the finger and moved his hands under my thighs, slowly he reached up to play with my breasts. Cupping each one he pushed them more toward the center of my torso, while he was playing I was slowly going ape shit knowing his lips were a breath away from the extremely blood engorged and puffy pudenda he had just kissed. I could feel his warm breath on my pussy at the same time he was squeezing and moulding my tits, sliding the fingers forward he soon had my nipples in his grasp. How did he know I loved them to be tweaked without hurting me, to be pulled and pinched lightly? As he slowly pulled the nipples outward from my body I felt him lick my pussy with the flat of his tongue.

When his tongue neared the top of my slit he moved his hands away from my tits to the inside of my thighs. Using his fingers he opened the labia, splitting the few hairs which grow freely, exposing the bright pink inner labia as well as my hardened clit. I had loved my husband Andrew since childhood, though he had been well hung and took care of my needs, he had never been as patient and detail oriented as Lewis. I was enjoying sex as I'd never experienced it before, I could feel the heartbeat in my clit as blood coursed through it. With my pussy open his tongue wasted no time finding my sweet spot, he would lick and then move, then lick that spot again only to tease and move away from it.

Pulling back to look up he whispered, "Nice pussy Ella, tastes lovely."

My plump roly-poly hips were automatically rising and falling, I couldn't have stopped the motions if I'd wanted to. I'd had one orgasm and was headed toward number two when he shifted position again, that was enough teasing for me. I grabbed his ears and stuffed his face right where I wanted it. I heard him chuckle as he busied himself and licked me to a tsunami orgasm. I had never before squirted in my life, I wouldn't be able to say that anymore. I had both hands on my breasts, squeezing, pulling, twisting the nipples as my body convulsed.

He rose to his knees smiling at me, my girl juices coated his chin and cheeks, I could see droplets of my cream in the upper chest hairs. His hands were on my knees holding them open as he moved forward, I was wet enough from the orgasm that he slid through the pearly gates and into my previously dormant love sheath with minimal resistance. It was just over four years since a cock had been inside me, much less a young virile cock that could respond quickly and keep this older lady in sensual nirvana. As his tall body hovered over my five-foot seven-inch frame with his cock just inside me all I could think about was having him balls deep.

Then I remembered back to the night I gave my maiden head to Andrew, it was the first time for both of us. Though we'd talked about the moment of pain and discomfort I would feel, neither of us were ready for my reaction as the thick head of his dick broke my hymen. I let out a screech and immediately passed out, it scared Andrew so badly he pulled back and waited for me to recover, wanted to know if we should stop. I took his face in my hands and admonished him.

"Bullshit Andrew, you popped my cherry, you're damned sure going to finish this."

It seemed like the same thing was happening again forty some years later. The large head of Lewis cut cock was slowly opening my vaginal walls wider and wider as he pushed forward. I giggled internally picturing a V-plow on the front of a county truck pushing through drifts of snow. I could feel the walls of my pussy hugging tightly, caressing his cock, inviting it to go deeper, wanting it to open me completely. Lewis was just slightly bigger than my Andrew had been, I was being stretched in the same manner my late husband had done for years, and then some.

I smiled to myself as a thought floated through my head, 'Just because this pussy is 58 doesn't mean it can't still suck the life out of a well-endowed young man. A well-endowed and obviously experienced young man of 23 years.' I gave a sigh of happiness when his pubic hair meshed with mine. Lots of ladies talk about their "bush", though mine was thick and curly, it had never been much more than a small patch, but hubby liked it, so I liked it. My young lover stopped when he bottomed out, looked at me and asked.

"Are you okay Ella, should I continue?"

I answered by pushing my hips into him and whispered, "Give it to me. Your cock feels so good."

Lewis obliged, a nice slow rhythm to start, then increasing speed slightly which took me over the top another time. As I relaxed and came back to earth, I began pushing into him with vigor, he took the hint and began to pummel me with that hard as steel rod between his legs. They weren't short, frenzied strokes, no siree, they were long and deliberate. Having increased speed he was still withdrawing to the head before slamming it back into me, god I loved that feeling. The end of his marvelous cock almost touching the cervix as the head opened me again and again.

My tits were rocking back and forth with every thrust, he was on raised arms looking at me intently, my hands had grasped his forearms as I hung on for dear life. I knew he was close, though I was worn out, I doubled my efforts trying to coax the awaited sperm bath for my vagina. And there it was, the swelling of his cock, the twitch and pulsating that I knew was going to give me what I'd worked so hard for. He slammed forward one last time with such force that it moved my body on the sheets. Then I felt it, his scrotum contracted, I could feel the semen making its way through the urethra destined to paint the walls of my ever so grateful puss.

That alone took me over the cliff one more time. I was aware of my loose body jiggling and tingling all over as the sperm hit my cervix with what seemed like the force of a hose being turned on full blast. I lifted my chubby legs, digging my heels into his ass cheeks, holding his body tight to mine as yet another orgasm ripped through my body. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had that many orgasms in one love making session. Oh sure, it had happened, I just couldn't remember the last time before now.

His cock pulsed once, twice, three, and then a fourth time before it began to settle down. I could feel smaller contractions as my pussy milked him dry. I wanted this young man to not only remember how strong he had cum, but to want more of this pussy in the weeks ahead. He had triggered something in me from the moment he introduced himself, and now my long dry spell had come to an end. I made an executive decision as he lay on top of me panting, trying to catch his breath without crushing my chest. If he was amenable, I would fuck this young man as often as my body could withstand it until his time in town was over.

Raising off me he flopped to the side, sat up and made his way round the end of the bed. What he did next solidified my decision to screw him more. He leaned down and kissed me tenderly, like a lover on his honeymoon night, then spoke softly.

"Stay there, I'll get you a warm washcloth."

I'd hit the jackpot, not only was he fun to be around, not only was he as much a cockmaster as my Andrew had been, and more, he was polite and caring. I wasn't just a piece of ass, although I already knew I would continue being his piece of ass, he didn't treat me like one. Yes indeed, after being in my home as a boarder only five days he knew I was his, but he wasn't dominating or arrogant about it. He was kind and I was willing to reward that kindness on my back or hands and knees as much as I could. There would be no blow jobs with me on my knees, it would be too painful, however, if he was willing to lay back and let me suck his dick in bed, I'd be more than happy to do so.

With me sated he gently washed my girlie parts, making sure he bent to kiss the middle of my mons when he finished. Then kissed and sucked each nipple one more time. I reached up to pat his cheek and softly uttered.

"Thank You Lewis, you've made me very happy."

He stood, "I'd better go to my room Ella, don't want the neighbors talking."

I grabbed his hand, "Screw the neighbors, stay with me, please. I've had no one to warm my bed since Andrew died. Please, stay with me, you don't have to screw me again, in fact I don't think I could take your dick again before morning. Stay Lewis."

He said he needed to wash but would be back in a few minutes, which he was. It felt so good to have a warm body next to mine once again. As I woke I realized my hand was on his slowly hardening cock, opening my eyes I looked to see if he was awake. He smiled and kissed the end of my nose.

"Good morning Ella. Are you planning to do something with what you have ahold of?"

I was all atwitter, his dick was rapidly filling my hand. I wasn't going to be able to take another pounding like the night before, at least not until tonight, but I wanted him thinking about me all day. I lifted the covers and scooted down, pulling his underwear off as I did. As he kicked back the covers, I wasted no time putting his cock in my mouth. I had half the shaft in within the first three bobs of my head, I was going fast until he put his hand on my head and slowed my movements.

"Slow and deep Ella, tickle my balls with your fingertips. Mmm, hmm, just like that. You're a good cock sucker Ella, Andrew must have really enjoyed you. I won't last long, where do you want it?"

I pulled back slightly and whispered, "In my mouth."

He chuckled softly, "Mmm, good girl. I could wake up like this at least twice a week."

I felt the head begin to swell and pulse, I slid back, locked my lips around the head and began to swallow rope after rope of young virile semen. When he was done dribbling I pulled back with a POP as my lips let go of the morning treat. Having heard his comment I decided to try and make that dream come true, waking to a blow job a few times a week would be something he'd remember always.

I watched as all five foot eleven of his tall muscular body exited the bedroom, I would make him breakfast and then settle into my day once he'd let at 6:30. He'd found my boarding house based on a whim. He worked construction and was scheduled to be in our town re-paving a ten mile stretch of black top over the next six weeks. He'd come to find out early in his job that the best place to meet nice people and find out who's renting was in church. I was serving coffee after the service when a tall guy with a bright infectious smile approached.

"Hi. Might you be Ella?" I nodded. "My name is Lewis, I'm in town over the next six weeks and I understand you rent rooms. Is that right?"

I hadn't rented in almost seven months, the last guy was such an obnoxious rectum I decided it wasn't worth the toll it took on my otherwise peaceful life. Before him the other boarders had all been young ladies who basically used their room to sleep in and nothing more. I offered food and laundry services, but all had declined. Oh, one did have me do her laundry once, what she called underwear I called thin strips of cloth that covered nothing.

Looking at his toothy grin and relatively innocent looking face I answered. "How about this. You take me to lunch at Lulu's Diner and we'll talk about it."

I couldn't believe my ears, why had I said such a thing? I didn't know him from Adam. And yet, something inside told me he was okay, that I could trust him, that it might be good to have a man in the house. For whatever reason I was at ease with him. My husband had always said I was flighty and what he called 'silly headed' from time to time. I've always been gregarious and extroverted, what I called and thought of as kidding, had been seen by guys as flirting in my early years. I quickly learned to dial it back a notch or two once I was married, yet here I was, no longer married, a widow, and found myself behaving verbally like I had as a teen. I lost sight of him after that and as I made my way to the front of the church to leave there he was, sitting on a chair waiting. He stood and extended his hand as a greeting.

"I apologize miss Ella, I didn't properly introduce myself earlier. You looked awfully busy. As you know, my name is Lewis, Lewis Morison. If you would like references, I can provide you with the phone numbers of other places I've stayed."

As he shook my hand I gestured with the other toward the door. He got a step ahead of me opening it, then offered to drive. I laughed.

"Lulu's is a half block away, we can walk."

Over lunch we talked of this and that. I asked how long he'd been working construction, his answer surprised me.

"Since I was 16. My dad and older brother own the company, I started working summers as soon as I got my license. Dad doesn't go out and actually perform labor anymore, he's 76, my brother is working a project two towns over and I'm here."

I had a curious mind, "So are you running this job then?"

He smiled as he settled back in the chair rubbing his tummy, the kid had eaten like a horse including not one, but two pieces of pie.

"Nope, that'd be Uncle Earl. He's my dad's brother, I just finished my degree in business management and dad wants me working with the crews for a year or two before me and my brother take over. He says working with these guys full time will teach me more than four years of college. I have to say, I think he's right."

My curiosity continued, "How old are you Lewis, you don't look like you're hardly out of high school, and yet you just graduated from college."

"I'm 23 miss Ella. And before you ask, I look for a B &B or boarding house everywhere we go. I don't wanna be at the motels or campsites where the rest of the crew is, too much drinking, too much noise, I don't get any rest. And I have to say, I've met some very interesting people in the process. Pretty ladies like you."

Out of instinct I lightly slapped the top of his hand, "You're a silver-tongued devil young man. I am in no way pretty any longer. I'm greying and have extra baggage I can't seem to get rid of no matter how I eat or exercise."

His answer startled me, at the same time it pleased me.

"How old are you miss Ella? You look to be mid-fifties. Is that close?" I nodded. "Well I think you've earned the right to have a little extra padding here and there, after all, it's part of the natural process of life. At least I think it is. Ma says that her biggest enemy in life is gravity. So excuse me, but I don't see you as old and frumpy."

I sat staring at him a solid minute or more before I spoke. "The room is 100 dollars a week if you only want somewhere to lay your head. It's 175 a week if you want meals with me and I'll do laundry for you once a week. It's yours if you want it."

I felt like a silly schoolgirl thinking about the double entendre, "it's yours if you want it" could easily misconstrued as sexual in nature. I realized I was flirting and he never batted an eye. He smiled as he stood, extending his hand for mine.

"Would you like cash, check or debit? I can do any one of those."

As we walked back to the church I told him I had one of those online bank apps where I could take payment through my phone. He liked that idea and told me he wanted the whole enchilada, 175 a week. As I lay in bed that night I chastised myself for being so flirty, the way I had been as a much younger woman was coming to the surface without me summoning such feelings. I would need to behave and not give this nice young man any wrong ideas. I was at the kitchen table slurping on my coffee and checking to see if I'd heard from any of my kids via email when he rounded the corner turning into the kitchen. Sitting across from me he smiled.