Now her husband looked at her. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “I can't wait.”
It was true. Her husband had been delighted when she'd finally agreed to let him video her. But that wasn't why she couldn't wait. She couldn't wait because she knew that he was outside, watching. She didn't dare acknowledge him now, but she could just about glimpse him out of the corner of her eye, leaning against the narrow strip of brickwork that stopped the window from stretching the full length of the wooden veranda. She'd arranged things as they were purposely, so that he could watch, while minimising the risk of her husband spotting him.
Laying there, in her black, patterned body stocking, the crotchless black, patterned body stocking, waiting for her husband to get the camera in order, all she'd been able to think about was him. The thought that he'd be watching her had her wetter than she'd been in anticipation of anything for a very long time.
“Good,” her husband said. He'd been a bit miffed when she'd said she'd rather perform alone, but she'd pacified him with a wink. “Don't you want to read what all those men think of your gorgeous wife?” she'd said. She knew that would sway him, that the whole reason he wanted to post a video on that site they looked at together, where couples posted their intimate moments, was because he was proud of her; proud of being married to a woman who at 35 or thereabouts still turned heads.
She also had to contend with him wondering why she'd had a change of heart. He'd wanted to post something of their own for some time, but she'd been reluctant to. When she'd finally agreed, he'd used her own argument against it, as if he was suddenly getting cold feet. “Aren't you afraid that someone will recognize you?”
“Then they'd have to admit they paid money to access the site,” she said. “Besides, everyone looks different on film, especially as no-one except you will have seen me like that. And if all else fails I can just flatly deny everything, say it must be someone who's a dead ringer for me.”
Her husband had been satisfied with that. It had been his idea, after all, and he didn't take much persuading.
“I'm so looking forward to seeing myself,” she said, reaching for the wand she'd tucked between herself and the side of the armchair. “Don't expect this to take long.”
At this her husband just smiled. “Are you that hot for this?” he asked.
“Hotter than you'd ever believe,” she smiled, trying hard not to give another wink to the figure her husband could not see, but who was staring hard at her through the window.
“Then we're rolling,” her husband said.
*
Sat in front of his computer, the man watched as the woman drew her hand across her labia. She was staring straight into the camera, her face almost unreal, as if coated with a licentious sheen. She lifted a wand, shifting slightly, slumping forwards the easier to show her shaven pubes as she rubbed her pussy lips with the head of the toy.
Fingers slid down, pushing her lips apart, locating her clit. The woman drew her finger round the tiny nub, bringing the wand up to push against it from below. She let out a soft moan, holding her pussy lips splayed as she teased the wand into position. Her eyes closed and her face twitched as she accepted the full sensation of the wand, soft sighs and gasps emerging from her.
The man was disappointed when the camera zoomed in on the woman's genitals, showing in detail her swollen clit, the way she teased it with both finger and wand. Nevertheless he enjoyed hearing the woman's increasingly avid grunts, the obvious evidence of her bringing herself closer to the desired end. “Oh yeah,” she gasped suddenly, her plump pussy lips opening of their own volition, just enough to give a glimpse of moisture.
The camera suddenly pulled back to show the whole of the woman. Her legs were swaying violently from side to side as she moaned loudly. Her face twitched, contorted. “Oh yeah!” she gasped again. She was shaking now. Then she was still, the camera zooming in on her face. She stared straight into it, seductively, letting her tongue run round her lips.
There was more time to go. He could see that the film had been edited, but when the action resumed, it was in the same spot with the same get up. The action was actually more of the same, but thankfully now with more shots of the woman's whole body, her face displaying sheer rapture even with eyes closed. She breathed heavily, her body heaving as she continued to tease her clit with finger and toy.
The clip lasted for about fifteen minutes. It ended with the woman staring seductively into the camera as if she wasn't quite satisfied. “Well well,” she said, “three in a row, who would have thought.” She pushed her lips against the head of the wand. “Thank you,” she said, then she gave a smile that would have lit up the deepest, blackest pit.
He clicked on pause, the woman's smiling face filling the whole computer screen. He was as aroused as he had ever been as he sat there regarding her. He remained like that for a long time, until he'd satisfied himself that he was quite certain. “Who would have thought?” he murmured to himself. “If it isn't Corinne Holland.”
*
He was already waiting for her when she came to unlock the storeroom in the basement.
As soon as his eyes fell on her, she could literally feel them, as if he was already groping her. She unlocked the door and ushered him inside, closing it behind them.
“I'm not going to ask you if you enjoyed the show,” she said. “I saw you jerking off all over our veranda. You've been a very naughty boy.”
“I couldn't help it,” he said. “It was so hot.”
“Well,” she said. “For what it's worth, I thought so too. I was so horny knowing you were watching me. Seeing you spurt made me cum so hard. It was worth making an excuse to go outside and clean up your spunk.” Corinne was moving into the room as she spoke. It was a rare jumble of items, not least old furniture.
“I couldn't stop thinking about you all weekend,” the boy said, following her.
“Well I hope you've got some spunk left over for me,” Corinne giggled. She found what she wanted now, an old desk she could lean over, her hands moving back to hitch up her skirt, displaying her naked, large but firm buttocks.
“You bet,” the boy said.
“Well I've thought about you too,” Corinne said, getting a grip on her buttocks and pulling them apart. “And I want it so bad. Come on; fuck me!”
Her body trembled as she heard the sound of his zip. His stiff cock pushed at her labia as his hands reached round and grabbed hold of her tits through her blouse.
“Oh yeah!” she gasped as his erection pushed up into her. She'd been wet all morning, all weekend, longing for his young cock in her. “Fuck me!” she gasped. “Give it to me!”
At only sixteen, what he lacked in technique he more than made up for in youthful exuberance. She heard herself squish, the loud slapping of flesh against flesh echoing in her ears. He thrust his cock deep into her, hard and fast, hardly caring for her pleasure, unless the harsh mauling of her breasts counted, but then he didn't have to; it was pleasure enough being screwed by him. “Oh yes!” she gasped when she heard his wild grunt and understood he was on the verge. “Cum in me! I want your spunk deep inside me!”
He stood there watching as she took the tissues out of her handbag. “Away with you,” she said. “We don't want to be seen together, now, do we?”
“Will I see you again later?” he asked.
“So eager,” she smiled. “Of course. Same place, same time.”
He left and she wiped herself off, pulling on the pair of panties she'd left off for his benefit, but ignoring the drips of cum that had splashed onto the floor. She'd see him sooner than that, of course, but in a setting much more humdrum. She wasn't sure all this was benefitting the boy's knowledge of history, which was what she was supposed to be teaching him; but it was definitely benefitting her.
*
The words were on the tip of his tongue, “Mrs Holland, a word if you wouldn't mind. In my office.”
They remained unsaid, him replying in kind to her “Good Morning, Mr Bryant” as she swished past, leaving a faint trace of perfume in her wake.
He'd had a whole speech prepared. Well, not quite a whole speech, but certainly the gist of the thing.
“...highly inappropriate...”
“...risks bringing the school into disrepute.”
“Your free time is your own, Mrs Holland, but you must understand...”
“...not of a mind to take matters further if the material is removed...”
“...valuable member of staff.”
“...doesn't bear thinking about another parent seeing...”
“A certainly level of propriety comes with the territory...”
Instead he returned to his office alone, sitting down at his desk before removing his spectacles, screwing his eyes shut and rubbing the sides of his nose. Before his eyes he saw Corinne Holland in her body stocking, her rapturous face as she worked herself to a third climax. It was no wonder; he'd watched the clip over and over, every detail of her masturbatory pleasure imprinted on his mind.
It wouldn't matter now if the clip was removed, since he would be able to replay it at will in his mind until his dying day. What did matter was that he wasn't satisfied with just the one clip. He was hoping against hope that there would be much much more.
*
With the kids finally tucked up in bed, and Corinne and her husband reclining beneath the sheets themselves, she finally got the chance to ask him. “Have you had a chance to check the response?”
He turned his head slowly, smiling at her in a way that suggested both pleasure and a slight sense of insecurity. “Yes,” he said. “Rapturous is the word that covers it.”
She smiled back, feeling a little thrill stab at her genitals. “Go on,” she said. “Tell me more.”
“Lots of comments wondering if there'll be more. Some suggestions. A fair few asking if camming is an option. Even an offer or two from some wondering if they can come round. And that's without the general, ribald expressions of approval.”
Corinne slid the tip of her tongue round her lips. “How do you feel about other men desiring your wife?” she asked slowly, wondering how her husband would feel if he knew that earlier in the day she'd been soundly fucked and spunked twice and had a good tonguing, which had given her a shuddering orgasm, by a sixteen year-old boy.
Her husband didn't answer directly. “I was thinking,” he said, “that with the kids away on their sleepover on Friday, we've got the whole evening to experiment as much as we like in front of the camera.”
“Mmmm,” she purred, rolling over and sliding her fingers through the dark hairs on his chest. “I like the way you think.”
His own hand slid across, fingers landing on her thigh. She knew where he was going and purposely pulled away. “Save it for Friday,” she smiled. “So that we're both good and horny.”
A flicker of disappointment passed over her husband's face in advance of a broad grin. “I like the way you think,” he said.
*
By the time Wednesday evening rolled around, he couldn't restrain himself any longer. In the event, he was every bit as disappointed as he'd expected to be. He spent two hours skulking about the garden, damp from the lawn seeping into his shoes, hoping against hope there'd be something to see, but only glimpsing Corinne and her husband doing the things you'd expect a married couple with children do of an evening.
Eventually he thought he saw Corinne say, “Right, tidy up your things. It's time for bed.”
Fifteen minutes later the downstairs lights went off. Mr. Bryant crept away from the house, drove home and turned on his computer.
*
“Just a blow-job today,” she said.
They'd parked up behind a clump of trees, early morning before school, and the boy's hand was between her thighs, where Corinne had clamped it when he tried to touch her there. She sensed his disappointment, but at the same time, his excitement was evident, and she found it hard to tear her eyes away from his bulging cock-head.
She reached out to stroke it, her fingers slipping where pre-cum had already oozed. “You see, Tommy,” she said in a seductive half-whisper, “I want you big and hard later when you watch me. When I perform for the camera, I want to know that you're out there watching me with your big hard cock in your hand. And I want to suck you off now so that I'm good and horny, with your taste in my mouth all day long, just waiting to perform.”
Tommy's brow furrowed. “Won't your husband... you know... the taste?”
“Perhaps I'll have to suck him off too, first thing when I get home,” Corinne giggled.
Sensing that made the boy feel a little bit jealous she leaned over, feeling his fingers trying to reach her panty fabric and not quite managing it. She nuzzled his cock head before kissing him there, letting her tongue tease the little slit. “Mmmmm,” she cooed, “so big and meaty!”
She slithered her tongue over his healthy, young erection, feeling the damp seep into her knickers, the damp he would feel if his fingers were there. “You make me so horny, Tommy,” she said. “Tell me how much you want me.”
“I want you!” Tommy blurted. “I want you so much.”
“What do you want to do to me?” Tommy she persisted, before sliding her lips over his bulging, throbbing helmet.
She felt his hand in her hair. His other hand; he was still trying - and failing - to touch her tightly packaged pussy. “Just that,” Tommy said. “Oh fuck, that's hot!” She'd let her tongue slide out between her bottom lip and his cock, letting it glide down his shaft, along the thick vein. “Oh Mrs Holland, it feels so good when you suck my cock!”
She slid her lips back up and giggled slightly. “It feels so good sucking your cock, Tommy. It's so tasty. Is there nothing more you'd like?”
Her lips went back down over him, his cock making it deeper into her mouth as he thrust upwards a little. “You know I love fucking you,” he breathed. “You're a wonderful fuck, Mrs Holland, with a wonderful tight pussy.”
“Ooooh!” Corinne said, her lips still firmly clamped round him, which made the next words come out funny. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“There's only you,” Tommy gasped. “You're the only one I've ever fucked.”
She wanted to tell him there'd be others, but this was no time for lessons in love. Instead she wriggled her tongue, strumming on his banjo string. He gave a grunt and she quickly moved her tongue away, and her lips.
“That was close,” she smiled. Tommy nodded. She felt his fingers wriggling between her thighs and relented, parting them a little. “Feel that?” she asked. “Feel how damp, how wet I am? That's because I'm so turned on by you, Tommy.”
She extended her tongue, letting it slither all over his helmet. Tommy leaned back, again straining his body upwards. “Won't you let me fuck you?” he asked.
“Of course I will,” Corinne replied, “just not today.” Then she plunged her lips over him, as far down as she could.
“Oh shit!” Tommy gasped.
“What is it?” Corinne asked as best she could, but of course she already knew.
“Mrs Holland! Mrs Holland!” Tommy cried out in a strangled voice. “I'm cumming! I'm cumming!”
A surge of pleasure ran through Corinne's whole body as the boy delivered spurt after spurt in her ravenous mouth.
*
It was overcast, and he hoped it would remain overcast and not begin to rain. The longer Mrs Bryant stayed out in the garden, the better.
There were two new clips of Corinne Holland on the site.
