In our final year at college, I was the only male student who hadn't lost his virginity. Most of the other guys had girlfriends who were happy to oblige; one nerd had to pay a hooker; two bribed the college bike ('everyone rode her') with packets of cigarettes. But I still couldn't get to first base.

In the jerk-off league table I was up there with the leaders, but I had yet to experience the unbridled joy of full penetrative intercourse. Until, that is, middle-agred Marjorie to came my aid.

My Dad had fixed me up with some part-time garden maintenance work with one of our neighbours. The childless couple were Max and Marjorie Crawford. He was a rich lazy sod who'd made a fortune in the dot.com boom and got out early. Now he worshipped his English-made Jaguar saloon and spent most afternoons at the local golf club.

By contrast, Marjorie was an absolutre honey. Approaching her half-century, and considerably overweight due to her love of good food, she nevertheless always looked good, wearing smart chiffon outfits, with stylish hair-do's and loads of make-up and perfume. She always called me "Timmy darling." Once or twice, the thought even crossed my mind that it might possibly be big blousy Marjorie who could solve my virginity problem.

One Friday afternoon in late summer I'd put in a back-breaking four hours digging the Crawford's vegetable garden, and was just about to call it a day when Marjorie appeared, wearing a loose-fiiting satin kymono, carrying a tray with two coasters of iced drinks. "Here we are, Timmy darling. I thought you looked as if you could do with a refresher." She handed me a glass in which crushed ice clinked invitingly.

I took a long swig. "Wow! What was that?"

She had already drained a third oof her tumbler before she answered. "Mojito, daling. The national drink of Cuba. Ernest Hemmingway drank it all the time. You like?"

"Very much so."

"Good. Then let's go indoors and freshen our glasses, shall we? Boring old Max won't be home for hours. It's the golf club's AGM."

I followed my employer into the sitting room, where she set about preparing us two more of her lethal cocktails.

"White rum, cane spirit, lime, crushed ice, soda and fresh mint." So saying, she ripped up some mint leaves she'd picked in the garden only minutes before and flung them on the top. "Cheers!"

She took a seat at one end of the sofa and patted a seat cushion. "Come and sit beside me?"

The heady mix of the rum cocktail and Marjorie's overpowering French perfume soon went to my head. Was it my imagination, or had she slipped a lit bit closer, so that our thighs were now touching?

"Did I tell you Max won't be home 'til late?"

"Yes, you did mention it in the garden."

She took the half-finished coaster from my hand, placed it on a side table and smiled. "Don't be shy, Timmy darling." So saying, she took my hand and placed it on her ample bosom. "I'd adore you to feel my titties. Would you like that?" I froze.

I quickly realised that I had to respond to her expectant request. I gently slid a hand inside her gown, relieved to find that she wasn't wearing a brassiere. Her boobs were huge and pendulous, adorned by lovely large nipples, hardened with excitement. She lay back and closed her eyes. "Now talk dirty to me, Timmy darling. Really filthy stuff so it makes my cunny lovely and wet before you fuck me!" She deftly unbuttoned my jeans as if she was shelling peas.

Moments later she had my erect manhood cradled in the palm of her hand. "Oooo my! And so BIG! Not like Max's pathetic little winkle! Un-cut too. I so love a man who has a big hood that can be pulled back to expose his swollen knob head." She ran an index finger over my pee slit, which was expectantly leaking. Smearing my pre-cum over her lipstick-covered lips she beckoned me closer. "Kissy, kissy? Mmmm I just can't wait to feel your young cock inside me, filling wicked old Marjorie up with loads of your lovely warm creamy spunk. Will you do that for me?"

I remained mute and motionless, fearing a premature ejaculation.

Parting her gown and opening her legs, she rolled over onto her back. "Take me now. I want to be your secret whore. Fuck me into the sofa, Timmy darling?"

Of course, it was over in minutes. The sheer stimulation of sliding into her moist vagina was enough to trigger a huge ejaculation. We lay still for several minutes. Marjorie gave a soft moan of satisfaction, then whispered in my ear: "Ever heard of face-sitting? Or Queening?"

"Can't say I have."

"Right, well carefully pull out of me, put the sofa cushions on the floor and lie down on them." I did as instructed. Marjorie slipped out of her kymono and, now totally naked, straddled my chest, her ample rear quarters facing towards me. Slowly she lowered herself onto my face until her opened cum-soaked labia lips were pressing against my face. The next moments were sexually electrifying as she gently eased my huge load into my mouth, to taste and swallow.

She turned around and gave me a lecherous smile. "You like?"

"Loved it!"

"Almost as nice as a strong Mojito, isn't it?" She gavea wicked giggle. "We must certainly do this again. Can you manage next Friday?"

"I'm sure I can."

"Max will be at the golf club, so I'll introduce you to some more naughty things from my Lexicon of Love. I think I might get you to fuck my bottom!"

Watch this space.