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My Personal Adonis

"A love story"

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I stood on the courthouse steps, fighting back the tears. My pathetic attorney faced me, still wearing his black gown, clutching a huge pile of court papers.

I had just endured a torrid five-hour divorce hearing, in which a wholly-unsympathetic panel had denied me custody of my child and awarded me a derisory alimony. My 'crime', it would seem, was a one-night stand with a guy I'd met in a singles bar. I say 'one night', but it was more like one hour - in his car, in the parking lot. And the creep had had the nerve to pull out at the last minute and empty his load over my best 24-denier nylons! Yet my husband's year-long infidelity with his secretary, while on so-called 'business trips', was seen by the court as a mere peccadillo.

"Not the result we were expecting, Mrs Hardwick."

"You can say that again!" I snorted to the smug lawyer. "So where did we mess up?"

"I'm afraid even in these emancipated times, some jurisdictions don't take kindly to the wife's infidelity, Mrs Hardwick." Translated from legal-speak, this meant: "Hard cheese, baby; that's the way the cookie crumbles in this county!"

I scooped up my shoulder bag from the steps. I'd had enough from this smug chauvinist. As I turned to set off to pick up my car, I called back: "Well you make sure you don't refer to me as Mrs Hardwick, when you send me your fucking fee account! From now on in, I'm reverting to my maiden name!"

I climbed into the car and headed for the big supermarket out on the highway. As well as stocking up on groceries, I was going to make darned sure I took home a liberal supply of booze, in order to drown my sorrows.

It was relatively quiet in the huge retail hangar, with their awful cheery piped music turned down low. As I rounded an aisle, I came upon a glorious apparition. There on his hands and knees, was a simply gorgeous-looking young shelf-stacker. His pale green shorts showed off the cutest bum, and his long, smooth sun-tanned legs had crisp white socks and trainers.

"Err, excuse me, young man?"

When he turned around and looked up enquiringly, my heart missed a beat. He was a veritable Adonis, with an angelic face, penetrating blue eyes and a lovely mop of curly blonde hair. I wanted to hug him on the spot.

He stood up and I was thrilled to discover that he was well over six feet tall, towering over tiny, dumpy little me. He cocked his head on one side and smiled engagingly. "How may I help you, madam?"

"Err...("Quick Celia, make something up!" my brain screamed)... I was looking for pitted olives. Would you happen to know which aisle they're on?"

He frowned. Such a gorgeous frown! I wanted to take his face between my hands and smother him with motherly kisses.

"Pitted, you say?"

"Yes."

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that term, madam."

"Oh Christ, I want you to call me 'madam' all night long!"

"Stoned - if you'll pardon the expression?" I replied evenly.

We both burst out laughing. He recovered first. Blushing slightly, he said: "If you'd like to follow me, madam?"

I couldn't keep my eyes off that adorable ass. I even started day-dreaming about pulling his shorts down there and then, just so I could run my hands over his bottom.

At the far end of the store, mercifully deserted, we stopped in front of what was obviously the corner reserved for obscure, little-requested goods. My Adonis pointed to the top shelf.

"Green or black?"

"Black, please."

As he reached up, his pecks rippled. I almost wet myself with excitement. He handed me a can. As I took it, I realised that our brief encounter would shortly end unless I came up with a game-changer. I spotted his name badge.

"Tell me, what time do you finish tonight, Tim?

He glanced up at the huge clock in the roof. "In about 40 minutes."

I nonchalantly looked down at the can of olives I was holding. "Only... I was thinking of making a Spanish paella, for my supper tonight; and well... I was wondering if perhaps you'd like to join me? Come back to my place? Maybe share a glass of wine?" I could hardly have made my intentions clearer, if I'd hired an aerial sign-writer to put a smoke trail reading: "Fuck me tonight!" across the sky.
 
His cute dimples momentarily trembled, then he gave a lovely smile which told me I'd hit the bull's eye. "Thank you. I'd like that very much, err...?"

"Celia."

"I'd like that very much, Celia. I'll need to shower first, though."

Now I was getting really brave.

"Don't bother, Tim, you can shower at my place. I've got a lovely big shower."

I was on the point of adding: "Big enough for two," but decided I'd save that little surprise for later.

"Right you are, Celia."

"I'll be parked up by the staff entrance."

"How will I know which is your car?"

"It's a big silver German sports car; you can't miss it"

Having loaded the groceries into the trunk, I sat as calmly as I could in the driving seat and gazed out through the windshield. It was starting to rain. In an hour, I'd be home in the warm, with my new lover. In two hours, we'd have seen off the first bottle of wine. And by 10.00pm - with any luck - I'd be on my back in my big king size bed, being given the first proper fucking I'd had for almost a year.

Then I heard the passenger door click open and a slightly hesitant Tim (duffle bag slung over a shoulder) climbed inside. "Start the engine - or give him a welcoming kiss?" my over-excited brain asked.

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I leant across and kissed his cheek, simultaneously placing one hand on his bare thigh.

"Hi!" He gave me one of his heart-melting, angelic, smiles. I knew we were off to a good start.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tim was an excellent fire-tender and an admirable wine waiter to boot. Now clad in a floral house coat (discreetly covering some sexy black lingerie), I had the paella bubbling away nicely on the stove. I knew I could safely leave it unattended for 40 minutes. Tim topped up our glasses.

"Now, how about that shower you missed at the store?" I untied my housecoat and let it fall open, to give him a sneak preview of my underwear.

Averting his gaze from my panties, he said: "Sure. Which way is the bathroom?"

"Straight along the corridor. Mind if I join you?"

"In the bathroom?"

"No, sweetie, in the shower."

He knocked back the red wine, as if to fortify himself.

"Sure. That would be nice. I've never... taken a shower with a lady before."

Oh, how I adored being called a lady! I took his hand and led him towards the bathroom.

"Follow me. This is going to be fun!"

First, I did pee-pee, squatting on the toilet in front of him. He watched as my golden rain seeped from my slit. I smiled up at him. "Bet that's a first?"

He blushed and nodded.

Tim had the most sensuous touch, soaping every single part of my body. I wrapped my arms around his neck as the warm water flowed over us. Then I gently nursed his lovely big cock to a fine erection and slowly soaped its tip.

"Want to cum now, or later when we go to bed?" I asked.

Rather sheepishly he replied: "Can I do both?" (Silly me; I'd forgotten the sexual stamina of youth!)

"Of course, hun. I'd like that." I massaged him more agressively now and was pleased to sense his first flinches that indicated that an orgasm was imminent. I wasn't going to miss a drop.

As I cupped my hand under his tightening ball sack, he groaned with pleasure.

"Where do you want it, Celia?"

"Splash it all over my pussy, darling?"

It was the crude directness of this request which opened the flood gates. Merged with the warm water falling from the shower head, Tim's glorious gusher shot five or six long ropes of warm creamy spunk onto my cunnie. I eagerly pushed it into my slit with two fingers. He smiled as he saw what I was doing, then lowered one hand and smeared the remnants of his semen over my thighs.

I grasped him tightly with both arms. "Oh Tim. I want this to last all night, darling!"

"Don't worry, it will. I promise. But let's have that paella first, shall we?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Spanish dish was quite the best I'd ever cooked, washed down with several more glasses of wine. Then we tackled the desert: a rich date and chocolate ice cream sorbet. Tim had nearly finished his and was just spooning up the juice when I moved to his side of the table.

"How would you like me to lick some of that creamy goo off your cock?" I asked.

He didn't need a second invitation, pulling out his erect penis for me.

I gingerly ran the dark brown juice over his cockhead, then knelt in front of him and took his manhood in my mouth, running my tongue up his shat, to chase all the errant chocolate droplets. It was obviously going to be a 'quickie', because he suddenly pulled my head towards his crotch, then slowly bucked as he filled my eager mouth with his cum.

I looked up, smiling, and licked my lips. "Mmmm. Cat got all the cream that time!"

Tim stroked my hair affectionately and kissed the top of my head. Within 10 minutes, we were snuggled up in bed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was around 3.00am when I felt a lovely warm sensation rising up my body. I had been sleeping on my back and awoke to discover that my young lover was gently making his way up my body from my toes, kissing as he went along. He licked my belly button. He paused around my breasts, giving my nipples speacial attention. Then the nape of my neck and chin. Finally, my waiting lips.

"My, you certainly know how to turn a woman on, young man!" I slipped a finger down between my legs to check that I was good and wet.

Tim raised himself up onto his elbows, deftly fitted the tip of his cock into my slit and then slowly lowered his full muscular weight onto my body. There was a lovely swishing sound as he entered my cunnie for the first time.

I dug my fingernails into his beautiful bum cheeks and moaned. "Oh fuck, oh fuck of fucking fuck. Yes, baby, yes!"

It wasn't just memorable; I'd say it was unique. In all thr 24 years since I'd first been de-flowered, I'd never experienced such adorably tender attention. In all, I managed three orgasms by the time Tim climaxed - bigger and more powerfully than ever.

We lay in each others arms. This boy was a fucking genius between the sheets and I sure as hell was going to hang on to him!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I was fixing Tim's breakfast when the door bell rang. I opened the door to a smartly-dressed lady courier. She held out a long white envelope: the type which lawyers always use for their mail. I turned it over to check the address on the back. Sure enough, it was from my useless attorney, who had certainly lost no time in sending his fee account! And there on the front, above my address, it clearly stated: 'MRS CELIA HARDWICK'.

The woman offered me a pencil to sign for the delivery. Instead, across the front of the envelope, I scrawled: 'RETURN TO SENDER.'

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Written by pentup47
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