This story takes place four months after “Irene’s Missionary Adventure.” Things were slowly getting back to normal, but the summer had been crazy. I had hardly seen Oscar, he had needed to stay in town all summer and his job had needed him six or even seven days a week. Meanwhile I had been at the coast with the girls; I felt a bit bad about relaxing at the beach, but I guess that’s why we had the house there. The disappointing thing was leaving Oscar in town; he had managed only two flying visits and one of those wasn’t even over night. But the girls were old enough to amuse themselves, and met up with friends, hanging out at the beach and all that. I suppose that’s kind of what I did too; Yolanda came to visit for one week, and I knew lots of other people who also had their summer houses nearby. So I wasn’t really lonely. The shame was that my sister was caught in town as well. She didn’t work with Oscar, it was just coincidence that both of them had jobs which kept them super-busy through the long hot summer. I suggested to Mari that she visit with Oscar and it sounded like they had met a couple of times in July, but after that, even meeting up for an evening with his sister-in-law couldn’t fit into Oscar’s schedule. Anyway, it was a Wednesday, and we were due to leave the beach house on the Saturday, to head back to town. The girls had already gone out to the beach and weren’t likely to be back until dinner time. I had been lounging around in my dressing gown all morning, reading a book and drinking coffee. I have to admit I was also feeling hot. And I don’t mean temperature hot, I mean horny. Since my escapade with the Mormon boys, Oscar and my sex life had been pretty active–but now, in this long hot summer there was a bit of a drought. Even when Oscar had come out to visit, we hadn’t had sex; he had been so exhausted I didn’t even suggest it. Back to that Wednesday at the end of the summer, and me sitting out in the sun reading my book. Every so often my fingertips would stray to my breast or my panties as I read. My nipples had stiffened and I needed some relief. I was in a daze, really–trying to re-read the same page three or four times and distracting myself with my roving fingers. When the doorbell rang I literally jumped. Feeling flustered, I got up and went to the door, tying my dressing gown as I went. I opened the door and there was the postman. “Hello,” he said. He was a young man, in his early to mid-twenties–and black. Very black. You know that deep almost purple black, not just racially black. When he smiled, it lit up his face. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me, even though I’d never met him before. “Hi,” I replied. “A letter and a parcel.” “Okay.” “I need you to sign for the parcel.” “Sure,” I said, and held out my hand for the pen. He handed it to me, but I was so caught up in his gaze, in his smile, that I fumbled the pen and dropped it. I am sure I have seen it in films, or maybe it’s just a cliche, but we both went for the pen, and cracked our heads in the process. I fell back, and landed on my bum, and my dressing gown fell open. He just stood there, mouth open, looking at my breasts Maltepe Escort and rubbing his head. I was feeling really dizzy and it took me a few seconds to gather myself. Eventually, I managed to pull my dressing gown around me, and the postman offered me his hand to get up. He pulled me to my feet, “So sorry,” he said. “Are you okay?” I put my hand to my forehead–there was a definite lump. “Ouch.” “I’m really sorry,” he repeated. “That’s okay. I’ll be okay in a minute. Just need to sit down.” He took me by the arm, “Let me help you.” He walked me through to the kitchen and sat me down at the table. There were a couple of glasses on the draining board and he filled them both from the cold tap. He passed me a glass of water and drank from the other himself. I took a sip and looked up at him. He smiled back. “Thanks,” I said. “Better?” “A little,” I replied and rubbed my head again. “I think we both got more than we bargained for.” He nodded. “I’m Irene,” I said. “Thomas,” he replied, with a smile. God, that smile had me melting. “Nice to meet you, Thomas,” I smiled back, but it wasn’t a patch on his. “Sorry about my…” I wrapped my dressing gown tighter; I didn’t know how to apologise for flashing him. “You know…” “Oh. Please don’t apologise. It was nothing.” I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t mean nothing. It was… they were… very nice. But… Um… Don’t be sorry.” I chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed. I suppose you don’t get flashed by housewives every day.” “Well… not every day. But you might be surprised.” “Really?” He smiled. “Lonely women answering the door, wanting a little excitement in their lives and a young black man knocks on the door. Sure–every so often, someone gives me a ‘come on’ or gives me a flash.” “Wow.” “But… This is the first time it has been accidental.” I nodded, and rubbed my head again. “Well,” I said, “I’ll live. Anyway–take a seat. You hit your head too. Are you okay?” Thomas sat down opposite me and sipped his water. “Yea. I’ll be fine thanks. Thick skull.” He rapped on his head to show me. “So… When these women flash you, what do you do?” He paused before he answered, not sure what to say. “Well… I kind of run a mile. I am never ready for it, and am really a little shy.” “So you’ve never been seduced on the doorstep.” “Nope,” he said, “Not yet.” “Not yet?” “Well, you know… Never say never.” He smiled again. But there was something different this time. Just a hint. Maybe the way his eyes sparkled as he said it. As if there was a subtext. His hand had been lovely and strong when he lifted me to my feet. And he had been very kind to look after me. And I had always wondered what it would be like. “Never say never,” I replied. “Too true.” Our eyes met, and we held one another’s gaze just a little too long. “I suppose…” I said, “I suppose we’re not on the doorstep any more.” “Nope.” “Have you ever been seduced in a kitchen?” “Nope.” I stood up and walked around the table, undoing my dressing gown and whispered, “Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” I leaned forward and my breasts swung inches from his face. He raised his hands and cradled my Maltepe Escort Bayan breasts, caressing them gently. When he leaned forwards he could kiss them–and did kiss them one after the other before flicking at my nipples with his tongue. “Oh Thomas,” I whispered. I put my hands to the back of his head, and held him against my breasts, feeling the roughness of his close cropped hair. He opened his mouth and surrounded my nipple with his lips and I moaned. My knees went weak. I felt his teeth raking my nipple and I gasped. “Thomas… Thomas is it true. Is it true what they say about black men?” He pulled away and looked up at me, “I don’t know. What do they say?” “You know,” I rasped. “I don’t know if it’s true about all black men…” “But?” “But you’re welcome to see if it’s true about me…” He grinned, and I sank to my knees. I undid his belt and slipped my fingers inside his trousers. When my fingertips found his cock I gasped. Okay, I know it is a stereotype, and I don’t know about all black men, but this one–Thomas–was huge. Rodrigo was big, but Thomas–he was enormous. His semi-erect cock was as big as Rodrigo’s, and poor little Oscar was tiny by comparison. I wrapped both my hands around his penis and slowly stroked it. It was alive in my hands and swelling and throbbing. “Oh my God.” I couldn’t help myself. I leaned forward and licked at the underside, then kissed the tip. My tongue tip exploring his pee-hole, my hands trying to hold onto this massive cock. I opened my mouth wide and tried to get Thomas’ cock into my mouth; it stretched my lips as far as they would go, and I could only just fit the glans inside my mouth. My tongue flicked across the head and caressed him, while I stroked him up and down with my hands. When I looked up at Thomas, his head had flopped back, with his mouth open; enjoying me. I felt like such a whore, and it felt so good. Here was this stranger, sitting in my kitchen and here I was, kneeling in front of him trying to get his enormous cock into my mouth. My heart was pounding and there was a wet patch in the crotch of my knickers; my pussy was pulsing. I felt so hot. A whole summer thinking of Rodrigo, and Mormon boys and my little Oscar, and now, finally, a cock. A flesh and blood cock all for me. I released his cock from my mouth and stood up. smiling down at Thomas, I slipped off my knickers and stepped forward, astride him, with my hands on his shoulders. I slowly lowered myself and could feel the head of this unbelievable cock pressing against my lips. I took a deep breath and tried to relax as I lowered myself still further. The pressure against my pussy was huge, almost my whole body weight trying to push Thomas’ cock inside me. He held my waist and pulled me downwards and I squealed! I squealed as his cock finally entered me, and–my God–he was big. Not just long, but thick. As thick as my arm. I lowered myself and felt full like I had never felt before–not even with Rodrigo. “Sweet Jesus,” I whispered. When I was sitting on Thomas’ lap, I felt more full than I had ever felt. My cunt was tight around his cock, and feeling incredible. Escort Maltepe I held his face in my hands and pulled him onto my tits. He kissed them and sucked at them, his hands at my waist, he slowly raised me up a few inches before dropping me down again. The feeling was sensational. His mouth and rough face against the soft white flesh of my tits, and the biggest cock I had ever seen, deep inside me. Slowly he accelerated, lifting me and dropping me onto his tool. I grunted each time I felt the full length of him inside me. As he got faster I fell into a trance, my hair in disarray, my tits bouncing, holding his head in my hands; my orgasm started in the tips of my toes–i swear it felt like it rose slowly up my body and exploded when it got to my waist; I tensed like I had been electrocuted then almost completely collapsed–only Thomas’ strong hands held me upright. “Oh Irene,” he whispered, “Oh God, you feel so tight. So hot and tight. Your hot wet cunt so tight around my cock.” He carried on bouncing me on his cock. “You’re going to make me… You’re going to make me cum.” That last word woke me up–brought me back to full consciousness. No protection! I stood up and slipped off him, then knelt between his legs. Both hands wrapped around his cock, I stroked it hard and fast. I raised his cock vertically so I could lick at his huge hairy balls. Licking and sucking on his balls as I pumped his massive cock. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, “Oh fuck.” I released his balls and tightened my grip, pumping faster and faster. He lifted his bottom from the chair as he in turn tensed and–my God–it was like a volcanic eruption. I have never seen such a huge ejaculation. He spurted and spurted his load and it covered my face, my hair, my breasts; dripping down onto my belly, my legs. I was showered with his cum. The sheer volume of it made me gasp. When he was done, I leaned forward and licked at his sticky shaft, savouring the salty flavour, mesmerised by the whole experience. Thomas sat back in his chair and the smile returned to his face. “Wow,” was all he could manage. “Wow.” “Is that your first time with an older woman?” I asked. “You’re not old,” he replied. The perfect answer. “But my first time in a long time.” “I wondered,” I replied wiping myself up as best I could. “Wow.” I giggled. A man of few words. “It’s such a shame this is the end of the summer.” He nodded. “I leave on Saturday.” “Oh no.” I nodded. “But we still have tomorrow and Friday.” He grinned. “I just hope I get some mail.” “Which reminds me,” he said. “You still need to sign for that parcel.” …ooOoo… A little while later, after Thomas had gone to finish his round and I had had a shower, I finally got around to looking at the post. The parcel was for my daughter–something she had ordered online, I assumed. The letter was for me. It seemed to be from my sister Mari. And it seemed long. There were pages of it. I was sitting in the kitchen wrapped in my towel as I started to read. Dearest Sister, I call you that, but maybe after you have read this letter you won’t want to call me your sister any more. This is somewhat of a confession. No, it is a confession. I have done something terrible, unforgivable, but still I hope, I pray you find it in your heart to forgive me. I haven’t been able to sleep for weeks, as this whole thing has been preying on my mind. Finally I felt that the only thing I could do–the only fair thing was to tell you.