It had started to spit as I carried Lily home. I'd dropped my sister and her friends off at their houses on the way back, but Lily's house was a little more out of the way, and she'd got really tired trick-or-treating. My sister and her friends were eleven years younger than me. I was home for the weekend from university and had been roped into taking them out trick-or-treating. As the rain picked up, I'd scooped Lily onto my shoulder so we could move faster, and she was now fast asleep against my neck.

Mrs Robinson opened the door as I rushed up the path. She was still in the outfit I'd seen her in earlier when we'd come to trick-or-treat. Bandages wrapped tight around her body, styled to look almost like a dress. Accessories with gold jewellery, combat boots and a scarab brooch pinned just above her collarbone. It was a very figure-hugging outfit, and I couldn't help but notice that the figure it hugged was very attractive for someone at least twenty-five years my senior.

I rushed to the shelter of the house and lifted a finger to my lips, gesturing that Lily was asleep. Mrs Robinson mouthed "awww bless" and put her hand to her chest. "Come upstairs," she whispered, leading the way to Lily's room.

I laid Lily down on the bed, and Mrs Robinson pulled the duvet over her, tucked it round her shoulders, and kissed her forehead.

She ushered me back downstairs and closed the door gently behind us.

"You absolute star," she said, looking me up and down. "Oh dear, you're soaked. Here, let me get you a towel. Looks like the rain is getting even worse. You'll have to stay for some tea while we wait for it to dry up."

"Thanks, Mrs Robinson."

"Oh, Ben, call me Rachel. Mrs Robinson makes me feel like I'm ninety. We're both adults here. You must be what, twenty now?"

"Yeah, I turned twenty last week."

"Happy birthday, Ben. Here's your tea."

"Thank you." I took the tea and sat at the breakfast bar and tried to think of something to say. I was trying to act an adult. What would Dad have said here? "Your costume looks great, by the way. You were the best-dressed parent I saw as we went round."

"Aww, thank you, Ben. I was supposed to be at a party tonight, but Mark's stuck in Dubai. Some deal that was supposed to close last week. He keeps saying two more days." She stood and did a few poses, showing off the outfit. I really struggled to focus on the costume. The way her body moved underneath it was far more captivating. She sat back down, tucking her red hair behind her ear. "So I thought I'd get some use out of it at least."

We sat and chatted for a while. She asked about uni and told me about her time there too. She was funny and had a captivating way of telling some rather scandalous stories of her youth. She was also a good listener, laughing at my feeble attempts to match her stories.

She reached out and brushed something off my chest. "Just some fluff from the towel," she said. "So tell me, Ben. Have you been dating anyone at uni? That's where I met Mark, you know."

"No, I'm not dating anyone."

"But I bet girls are all over you."

"They are definitely not."

Rachel tilted her head. She'd shifted on the stool, closer. I could smell her perfume, something warm underneath the pumpkin spice candles. "Are you sure they aren't, Ben? Can I tell you something? I think a lot of men don't notice when women are flirting with them."

"I'd notice."

"Would you, though?" She was smiling wide now. "What would you look for?"

"Erm, I just think I'd notice."

"Exactly, men." She rolled her eyes. "You have no subtlety. When a woman is interested, she'll give you lots of signals, but you have to look out for them. She's going to be laughing at your jokes and making excuses to touch you. You'll be able to see her body language. She'll be angled towards you, maybe leaning in a bit, and she'll keep looking at your lips." She paused. "Because she wants to kiss them." She shifted in her seat, leaned in to brush off some more fluff, and her knee stayed resting against mine when she pulled away. "She might ask if you're single. Women only ask that when they're trying to be really obvious."

I nodded along, trying to take in the list. This could be really useful information.

"If they're being really obvious, or the boy is being really oblivious, they may even list out all the things they're doing to flirt."

I looked at her knee against my thigh and at where she'd brushed my chest. I thought about the laughter and the eye contact and the question about dating, and I understood what was happening.

"Oh," I said.

Rachel sipped her tea, a little smirk twitching the corners of her mouth. "There it is."

"And how should I, erm, go about flirting back?" My face went red as I realised quite how obvious she'd had to make it for me.

"Well, you could try some light compliments."

"Right." I looked at her. "You look really good. For a mum. No, not for a, you just look good. The costume's. Yeah."

Rachel pressed her lips together. She was trying not to laugh.

"Okay," she said. "Pick one specific thing. And say it like you mean it. Confidence is key."

I swallowed. Looked at her, trying to take her in and see a woman and not just Lily's mum. The red hair falling around her face, the freckles across her nose, the way the candlelight caught the green in her eyes.

"You've got amazing eyes," I said. My voice came out lower than I'd meant it to.

"Better. Now hold the eye contact. Don't look away first."

I held it. One second. Two. Was this too long? This felt too long. Was I being weird? This was definitely weird. She was Lily's mum and twice my age. She was looking at my mouth.

She was looking at my mouth. That meant kiss, right? Should I do it? I should ask. No, I shouldn't, that would kill it. I should just do it. Confidence. That's what she'd said. Be confident. I inched forward. Her lip lifted, and she leaned into me. I steeled myself and closed the gap, meeting her lips with mine, and then fucked it up as I closed my eyes and misjudged the distance; our teeth bashed together.

She pulled back. "Easy, tiger. Let me lead." She kissed me and this time I let her set the pace. Her mouth was warm, her lips were gentle, and when she parted them, I followed with my tongue, trying to match what she had been doing. She pulled back an inch. "Slower with the tongue. Less is more. And put your hand somewhere. My waist, or the back of my neck."

I chickened out of her waist and put my hand on the back of her neck instead, threading my fingers into that red hair, and followed her lead. Our lips meshed gently. She hummed against my mouth, and I felt it through my entire body.

"Good," she breathed. She bit my bottom lip as she pulled away. "Very good, Ben. That was much better."

I leaned in to kiss her again, and the coaching stopped for a while. Her hand was on my thigh and moving up to my crotch. She brushed against my penis and found it was rock hard.

She broke the kiss. Her lips were flushed, her breath uneven. She leaned close, her mouth against my ear.

"Would you like to take this upstairs?"

I nodded. Was she serious? Upstairs. Did she mean sex? She must, right? Do I assume? Do I ask? Would that kill the mood? I desperately did not want to ruin this.

She took my hand and led me up the stairs, into her bedroom, and turned to me in the low light from the bedside lamp. The mummy costume was starting to unravel and hung off one shoulder.

"Have you done this before?" she asked.

"This? I, erm."

"Sex, Ben. Have you had sex before?"

"Yes. Well, sort of." I'd had a few fumbling experiences but nothing that had really progressed to proper sex. I didn't know how to explain that without sounding lame.

"Okay. Just follow my lead, and ask if you're unsure."

I nodded, speechless, as she stepped forward and pulled my top over my head and started to unbutton my jeans. I stood there in my boxers whilst she looked at me, and I resisted every instinct to cover myself or make a joke.

Confidence, I told myself. You are a confident man. You are not shaking. Your heart is not trying to escape through your ribs.

Rachel unwound the rest of the costume. Underneath it, she wore plain black underwear, and she was stunning. The freckles spread from her face down to her shoulders and upper chest. My eyes flowed down her stomach and the curve of her waist. I was about to say something about how she looked, but she took my hand and lay back on the bed, pulling me with her.

We kissed for a while, my body against hers, the feel of her skin against mine driving me mad as our lips moved together. She took my hand and pressed it flat between her legs, over her underwear.

"Just hold it there," she said. "Don't move yet. Let me feel your hand." I held still. She was hot against my palm, and after a few seconds she rocked up against me, one slow grind, showing me the pressure she wanted. "Don't completely freeze. I just meant your hand, silly."

I grinned and tried to get back to kissing, but my focus was entirely on my hand between her legs. I pressed back, and she exhaled through her nose. I rubbed back in time with her grinding. She gyrated harder against me. I slid my thumb inside her underwear.

"Good boy," she purred. "Push them down. Get them out of the way."

I pulled her underwear down, and she kicked them off one ankle. She took my hand again and put my middle finger against her, drawing it up between her lips until I was touching her clit. 

"Be gentle, not like how you would wank. Think of it as a conversation. Touch, then stop. See what I do. If I push into your hand, I want more. If I pull back, ease off."

I touched her. She shifted her hips towards me, and I pressed in, a little firmer, and she breathed out hard.

"Yeah. Like that. Keep checking in with your hand. My body will tell you what it wants."

I tried to follow what she meant, pressing against her clit when she pushed into my hand but never for too long, trying to keep her responding positively. I slid my fingers down into her slit, finding her tight entrance, which was leaking with her arousal. I circled round it, and her body responded.

"Yesss, Ben. Just like that. Good boy. Good boy." She ran her hand through my hair as her body pressed against me.

I kept circling for a while, but as I sensed her response to it dropping, I moved back to her clit. Or somewhere in the region. I was struggling to find it directly. There was a maze of slippery folds and coarse hair, and I couldn't isolate it with my fingertips, so I pressed down with all my fingers, rubbing across the whole area. That seemed to work. Her hips ground against me. I shifted to pressing with the heel of my palm, my fingers running down her slit, the middle two between her lips and the other two on either side. She was thrusting her hips up into my hand, and I tried to give it back, pushing my middle fingers into the tight entrance I'd been circling. She tilted her hips as I did, and I was surprised how easily they slipped in. I'd seen this in porn, so I tried to copy it, sliding the two fingers in deep and then rocking my hand up and down, trying to match the rhythm of her hips.

I was rock hard against her thigh but too intensely focused on her to do more than press myself against her leg, leaving trails of precum on her skin.

"Now your mouth," she panted, “let's see what you can do with that.”

I crawled down between her legs and tried to get my bearings. I'd done this once before, badly, in the dark, and a strong suspicion afterwards that I'd been nowhere near the right spot. 

"Kiss me. The way you just kissed my mouth. Up my thighs."

That I understood. I kissed her softly, but passionately, along her inner thigh, leaving large sloppy circles as I did. Her skin was impossibly soft under my lips. I moved inward, the heat radiating from her crotch drawing me towards it. When I reached her vagina, I kissed her there as if I were kissing her mouth, lips first, gently pressing my mouth against the full outer lips and letting my jaw open and my tongue slide between her lips. The coarse hair scratched against my chin. 

"Fuck. Yes. Keep it soft. And don't go straight for my clit; go around it. Make me want it." The way her body was moving made me think she was already quite desperate for it, but I followed her instructions.

I ran my tongue up one side of her clit. It was immediately obvious under my tongue in a way it hadn't been under my fingers, the hard bud distinct through the hood, and I realised I could map everything better this way, the folds and ridges and the slippery groove between her inner lips all making sense where my fingertips had just been fumbling. I licked down the other side of her clit, and she let out a long, wavering breath. I kept circling, tracing the hood, running my tongue along where her inner lip met the hood on one side and then the other, deliberately avoiding the clit itself. 

Her body was reacting more and more, her hips thrusting up into my face, and I could feel tremors running through her body whenever I brushed the clit accidentally.

I finally dragged my tongue directly over the bud. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and cried out, "FUCK." I took that to be a good sign and sucked gently on her clit. Her whole body jerked, her hips lifting off the mattress and pressing her cunt harder against my face.

The position was murder on my neck, my face pressed flat against her with my nose buried in her pubic hair, and I had to breathe through my nose between licks, inhaling her with every breath. My jaw was aching from holding my tongue soft, and I kept having to tilt my head to follow her clit when her hips shifted, chasing it across her wet skin. She got louder, and my instinct was to go harder, faster. I started to, but she cried out, “No, no, just keep doing what you're doing.”

Those tremors were coming faster now. Her whole body was vibrating in response to my actions as she got closer, and her thighs pressed against the sides of my head, the muscles going rigid, and her stomach tightened under my free hand.

"Keep going, keep going, just, fuck, just keep, yes, yes, yes."

Her thighs squeezed around me, and I could hear the blood rushing through my head as she came. Her body throbbing under me, and my chin became soaked as juices flowed out of her in pulsing waves. These juices were more watery but tasted more musky than her previous arousal. Her hand twisted in my hair to the point of pain, but I grinned through it. Knowing that pain was caused by the pleasure I had just given her.

Her body relaxed, and she looked down at me between her legs. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were bright. "Right," she said, reaching into a bedside drawer, "Fuck me," and pressed a condom into my hand. I tore the packet open and rolled it on with fingers that were still wet from her, struggling to get it down the shaft. She watched me fumble, patient, amused. I had never been so turned on in my whole life. Just the friction on my cock from getting the condom on nearly set me off.

I claimed over her lithe form and kissed her. She smiled lazily into the kiss, her hand resting on my cheek. I thrust my hips forward, trying to plunge into her as I kissed her, but there was too much lubrication, and my cock slid off to the side. I tried again and slid upwards, unable to find the right angle.

“Slowly, take your hand and guide yourself in, or you'll end up humping my thigh all night.” She chuckled. I tried again, holding the base of my cock and manoeuvring the tip until I felt the tight ring of muscle nestle against my belly end. “That's it, Ben. Now gently thrust in.”

I pressed forward against the opening and pushed until the muscle gave way and the head slipped inside. I stopped with just the head inside because the sensation was so intense I nearly came right there, with the muscles tight onto my glands.

"All the way," she encouraged. "It feels even better once you're fully in."

I pushed deeper, the tight grip of her entrance giving way to her softer core, the walls of her pussy pressing against my shaft from all sides as I slid in her body, opening around me until my hips were flush against hers and I could feel the head of my cock resting against something firm, deep inside her. 

My brain went to war with my body. Was I too heavy? Was that noise good or bad? Should I be doing something with my hands? I pulled nearly all the way out, the cool air hitting my wet shaft, and shoved back in too hard, bottoming out, so she flinched, and I could feel I was doing it wrong but had no idea how to fix it. My hips moved in stiff, uncertain jerks, trying to replicate what I'd seen in porn, and I could feel her watching me think.

Rachel reached up and took my face in both hands and pulled me down until my forehead was against hers.

"Get out of your head," she said. "You're thinking too hard. Stop. Put your weight on me. I want to feel you. Now close your eyes."

I closed my eyes and let my body drop onto hers. She wrapped her legs around my waist, locked her ankles, and used her heels on my arse to pull me into her until I bottomed out, held me there, then eased her heels off and let me slide back, and did it again. Setting the pace herself.

"Stay deep," she said against my ear. "Don't pull back far. Just roll your hips. Feel how that's different?"

I tried to follow, keeping my cock buried deep and rolling my hips in a circle instead of thrusting, and the difference was immediate. Instead of the friction being just at the entrance, concentrated around the head as I pulled out and pushed in, I could feel the entire shaft pressed against the walls of her cunt as I stirred inside her, the head pushing against one wall and then another as my hips circled, and my pubic bone grinding against her clit on every forward roll so she moaned against my neck. 

Everything between us was getting wetter, her arousal spreading across my stomach and my balls as our bodies pressed together. "There you go. Just keep that. Yes, good boy."

I buried my face in her neck and fucked her the way she'd shown me, grinding deep, my hips rolling, my weight pressing her into the mattress. I could feel her nipples hard against my chest, dragging across my skin with every grind, and her nails dug into my arse and pulled me harder against her with every stroke. 

She was moaning right against my ear, and it was driving me insane. I wanted to start thrusting again but kept going with the grinding until she pulled her knees up higher, hooking them over my shoulders, in a display of athleticism that I had not expected from her.

I sank deeper in this position than I'd been before, deep enough that I could feel the head pressing against something firm at the end of each thrust, which I had briefly felt when I first entered her. Every contact I made with it made her whole body twitch. 

My hips were driving harder now, the slow grind gone, replaced by short, deep thrusts, as I was unable to hold back, and I could feel my orgasm building, getting closer with every squeeze of her pussy around my shaft.

"Don't hold back," she said. Her voice was ragged. "Let go. Cum for me." I nodded, gasping as I was overcome. I pressed my face into her neck and the pillow. My whole body tensed in waves, and I buried myself deep and shook, pulsing cum into the condom inside her, spasm after spasm. I groaned desperately, my cock throbbing inside her as I emptied myself completely. I collapsed on top of her with my lungs burning and my arms giving out.

I just lay there. My cock twitching inside her, breathing in the smell of her neck. My heart was hammering so hard she must have felt it against her chest. Rachel stroked my back and ran her nails lightly along my spine. I could feel her breathing underneath me, her ribs expanding and contracting against mine.

Then she started a deliberate, slow clench of her cunt around my cock, then a release. Then another clench, tighter, held for longer. Her fingers still tracing idly over my back.

She kept going, speeding up the muscular contractions as she kissed the underside of my jaw, just below my ear. 

Her hands slid slowly down my back, over my arse, before she grabbed me and pulled me tighter against her. The clenching continued, one squeeze after another, and each one sent a jolt through me. My cock was painfully sensitive after cumming, but she kept going, and the sensitivity shifted into a deep warm ache that made my hips twitch involuntarily.

My cock had been softening, but I could feel the blood coming back, her body coaxing me back. She kissed me along my jawline until she met my mouth and started making out with me. I was too stunned to really respond until her tongue was in my mouth. Finally I pulled myself together, kissing back before I pulled away, biting her lip. 

"I think you might be ready again," she said and rolled us. I followed willingly. Eager to see what she had planned. She sat straight up on top of me. Her red hair was wild, and her skin was flushed, with a sheen of sweat across her chest. 

She took my hands and put them on her hips. I looked down as she lifted herself up, and I watched my cock emerge from her, the condom glistening, coated in a thick film, and she rose until just the head was inside, the tight ring of her entrance gripping just below the ridge where the nerves are clustered thickest. She held there for a second, and I could feel every twitch of her muscles against that ridge, then she dropped back down, her full weight landing on my hips, and I watched my cock disappear into her body, the coarse red hair at the base of her cunt meeting the darker hair at mine. 

She did that a few more times until she was satisfied that I was really hard again. Then she switched to grinding once more. She kept me deep and circled her hips, and I could feel the head of my cock pressing against different walls as she circled.

"Try putting your thumb on my clit," she suggested. 

I slid my thumb down between us, through the slippery mess where our bodies met, and found her clit, easier now than it had been at the start, the bud standing clear and hard after everything we'd done. I pressed, and she pulled back, too hard, so I backed off to barely touch, resting the pad of my thumb against it with no pressure and letting her ride into it. She tilted her hips forward and found the pressure she wanted against my thumb, and I held it there while she braced both hands on my chest and picked up the pace.

"You feel so fucking good," she said, and her voice was less controlled, less teaching. She was gripping tighter, and I could feel her getting wetter, the friction between us getting less. 

I planted my feet and pushed up into her, driving my cock deeper than her rhythm had been taking me, "Yes, Ben. Yes!” I kept pushing up to meet her, attempting to match her rhythm and mostly succeeding as her breathing turned to sharp little pants and her rhythm went ragged, grinding down onto my cock and my thumb at the same time. I could feel her thighs shaking against my hips and the muscles in her stomach quivering under my free hand, and I watched her face as she got close, her eyes shut and her mouth open and her brow furrowed in concentration, her cunt twitching around my shaft in rapid little spasms.

Her nails bit into my wrist, and she cried out, going rigid on top of me, her cunt pulsing around me as her climax burst forth. Her eyes quivered, rolling back into her head as her lashes fluttered uncontrollably. Her shoulders hunched involuntarily as she bit her lip. Finally she sagged forward onto my chest with her hair stuck to her face with sweat, laughing into my collarbone, her cunt still giving the occasional involuntary squeeze around my cock.

"Fuck, Ben," she kissed my forehead. “That was… amazing. Now I just have to finish you off.” She climbed off me, her legs unsteady, and peeled the condom off, the latex sticky and heavy with cum, tossed it in the direction of the bin, and wrapped her hand around my bare cock, her palm warm and her grip firm, and she looked me dead in the eye.

“You've done very, very well, Ben. Let me show you how much I appreciate your efforts.”

She stroked me, her hand loose, smearing the cum that was coating my head up and down my shaft. Then she bent down and licked me, her tongue sliding through the semen she had just redistributed. I could feel the rough texture of her tongue dragging up my shaft, and when she reached the head, she swirled around the glands. This was clearly not the first time she had done this. She was taking great pleasure in showing off her skill. 

She took the head into her mouth and sucked, her tongue circling the tip and tonguing the slit, probing the opening with the tip of her tongue, her lips tightly squeezing under the ridge, whilst her hand pumped the shaft. 

Then she sank lower, her lips gliding over my shaft until I felt the head nudge the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, a contraction that squeezed the head of my cock, and she didn't pull off. She swallowed around me and went deeper. 

She pulled off, spit on my cock, a thick string of saliva that she spread with her hand, and went back down. Swallowing and pulling my cock deep into her throat. 

Her red curls fell over my hips as her green eyes flicked up to mine, glinting with glee at the effect she was having on me.

She pulled off to breathe, keeping her hand moving, a slippery fist pumping my shaft, and said, "You can put your hand in my hair, and then you can guide the speed to what you want. Don't push too hard, though, or you might hurt me."

I threaded my fingers into her hair as she took me deep again. She gagged slightly every time I bottomed out in her mouth but kept taking me deeper and deeper. Every time she pulled away, fresh strands of saliva hung between my shaft and her lips. Her lips finally met the base of my cock, and she held there for what seemed like an age, her tongue flicking out to lick my balls as her free hand cupped them and rolled them between her fingers. 

She started bobbing, not pulling all the way back, just a slight bob that stimulated the entire shaft without pulling the head free from her throat. She must be gasping for air, but she kept on. I was on the edge. My orgasm slowly pushing through my cock. 

"Fuck, I'm fuck, Mrs Robinson… Rachel." I tried to warn her that I was close. She locked eyes with me, looking up at me past my cock, water streaming from them as she pushed harder. 

Until her nose pressed against my stomach. My cock burst with the pressure, and I came into her throat with a groan. I could feel her throat working around me, swallowing, and the contractions milked wave after wave out of me. She held me there, her throat rippling, until the pulses faded to twitches, and then she pulled back, sucking as she went, my cock emerging from her lips clean and shining.

The rain had stopped by the time she walked me to the door. She'd put a dressing gown on. I'd pulled on my clothes shakily; she had to tell me that my top was on back to front and inside out. 

"Thank you," I said, and then immediately wanted to die. "I mean. Not thank you. I mean, yes, thank you, but not like…" I trailed off, not quite sure what I wanted to say.

Rachel put her hand on my chest. "You're welcome, Ben."

She kissed me once, on the cheek. Then she opened the door, and the cold October air hit my flushed skin.

"Happy Halloween, Ben," she said.

“Happy Halloween, Mrs Robinson.” I walked home in the dark, with the rain still dripping from the gutters, grinning like a madman.