Genevieve's New Shoes
written by:
Joshua

This story was inspired by Carole: You know who you are, and my thanks to you for the inspiration...

I'd worked my way through college by working at a shoe store for the past three years. Although we sell men's women's, and children's shoes, my primary job has been to ensure I work with the women who enter the shop seeking that one pair of shoes which matches, compliments, or enhances a certain outfit. I've learned to wait patiently while the women try on one pair of shoes after another, often coming back to the first pair of heels or flats they selected the moment they entered the store. When the final selection has been made, both the customer and I are happy: they because they walk away with the perfect pair of shoes, and me because I made a sale and increased my commissions.

I learned quickly that certain, unexpected benefits came with this job. I mean, every now and then some attractive woman will come in wearing a dress and from my vantage point on my knees at her feet I might catch a glimpse of panty, or, even more delightful but also more rare, the occasional glimpse of a pussy. I'm not sure if the women who provide me with an eyeful of their cunts are doing so intentionally, but I've not yet been offended or turned off by the sight of a dark patch of cunt hair smiling at me from a distance of less than two feet. Sure, not every woman who flashes me is all that attractive, but when you're twenty-two years old and not getting fucked as much as you might wish, then any contact with a pussy, physical or visual, is a plus in my opinion. So, although I never expect to be flashed either intentionally or accidently, I still enjoy those rare moments when bending down on my knees provides me with more than a monetary bonus.

I've also established several working relationships with a few of the ladies who frequent the store. There's Marge, for example: She's forty-two, married with three children, and her husband is a very successful attorney here in town. So, Marge doesn't hesitate to buy at least a thousand-dollar's worth of shoes every six months. Marge is tall, blonde, and still has an athletic body she keeps in shape by doing daily aerobics. Each time Marge sits in my chair and extends her long, sleek legs in my direction, I make sure to position her foot between my legs, and securely into my crotch. I don't know whether or not she can feel the cock bulge in my trousers with her foot, but so far, she hasn't pulled her foot away while it rested against the seven inches of meaty dick secured inside my pants.

Sally is another blonde who shops at my store but doesn't have the financial means to spend the same amount on shoes as Marge. Sally is a working class mother, divorced, with one rotten brat of a kid who has seen more days inside a jail than outside. Sally always shops on Saturday morning when business is brisk. She's shorter than Marge, but no less attractive, in a special, unpolished kind of way. Sally's tits are much larger than Marge's: Once, during a summer sale, when the weather was exceedingly warm, Sally entered the store wearing a summer dress with thin shoulder straps that barely kept the dress attached to her upper torso. When she bent over to examine the three-inch wooden sandals she wanted for the warmer weather, I was greeted by the sight of two very large titties and just a glimpse of her right nipple. Because my vision was locked onto that welcome sight, I didn't realize that Sally had raised her head to see what I thought about the shoes. So, I also didn't realize that Sally knew I was looking down her dress at a pair of tits I guessed were in the 36D range. Yet, Sally didn't admonish me for my less than gentlemanly behavior: In fact, she smiled slyly at me, as if what had happened was a secret only she and I shared. She's been back to the shop several times since that morning, but so far I haven't been afforded another glimpse of her chest.

And then there's Carole. Carole is special and I always enjoy her unexpected and unannounced visits. Carole is British, and her husband works in construction. Each time she visits the shop, I find myself simply entranced by her accent: it's so proper and well spoken, and there is no doubt that Carole is an absolute lady. She stands approximately five feet tall, has dark brown hair, and although she's fifty years old now, the passage of time has in no way had the same effect on her body as I've seen with other women her age. Her eyes are as brown as her hair, two deep chocolate-colored pools that seem to sometimes hide unspoken words. Normally, Carole simply browses the store for a half hour or so before leaving after trying on several pairs of high-heeled shoes. Because I make it a point to know my customers, I've noticed that Carole seems drawn to the higher, more stiletto styled shoes, yet the only purchases she's made so far have been several pairs of flats she needed for work. Although she doesn't know it, Carole is my favorite customer. She's always been kind to me, never raised her voice when I couldn't find the type of shoe she was looking for, and so on. But there are other reasons that make Carole my favorite: it's what I sense lurks just under the surface that intrigues me. Yes, her body is very appealing and I'm sure that her husband of twenty-five years still enjoys a time or two with her in bed. But I believe that underneath her proper exterior, Carole's sexual fires are burning hotter and hotter each day. Now, she's never made any attempt to entice or seduce me, despite how much I am sure I'd enjoy the situation. She's never flashed her cunt at me, nor have I looked down into her blouse as I have with Marge, but that doesn't mean I don't want to, either. No, with Carole, it's more a matter of the unspoken, the unknown, that pulls me to her whenever she enters the store. I just believe that there's something there that if she were given the chance, her sexual fires would burn so hot they would bring down an entire building.

In fact, it was after Carole visited the store one Saturday morning that I realized all my favorite customers were older women. Don't be mistaken: yes, I'm twenty-two years old and have had my share of girlfriends, and even now have a few that I see regularly. Sure, I get laid every now and then, but my fires burn hot too and because most of my customers are more than twenty years older than me, I've recently found myself fantasizing more about the older women who enter my store than I do the younger girls closer to my age. For that reason, I always volunteer to work the ladies section of the store because it puts me in close proximity to the older, more mature women who enter the shop looking for shoes.

It was a Friday evening and business was slow. Perhaps the rain storm outside was keeping the customers away. I was alone in the shop, the other employees having taken off early for the evening. A look at the store clock informed me I still had twenty minutes before I could finally turn off the "yes we're open" sign and begin the process of closing the store. But Mr. Rand, the shop's owner, had the store computers record every action myself and the other employees made, including opening and closing the store. I waited in almost total silence and complete boredom. I busied myself by straightening some of the displays, but I couldn't help but glance at the store clock every few moments. It seemed as if the minutes had turned to hours and that the hands on the clock were frozen. I'd just turned my back to the door when I heard the sound of the small bell attached above the sill ring, announcing the arrival of a customer. Just great, I said to myself as I turned toward the door: A customer this close to closing time.

But I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that it was Carole who'd entered the store. I knew she'd come directly from the trucking company where she worked as a clerk for the executive director. As she made her way into the store, I couldn't help but notice that she seemed to be in a hurry. Her steps were forceful and long, indicating to me that she needed something and she needed it quickly.

"Carole!" I exclaimed, smiling broadly and making a point to look into her eyes rather than at her tits. "What a pleasure to see you," I said as she brushed by me and made her way to the long line of shoe racks located behind me. Where I expected her to make her way to the same area where we displayed the flats, instead Carole made a sharp left turn and began to browse the same aisle where we displayed the high heeled shoes. Every variety of high-heeled shoe lined the aisle, ranging from the sensible, two-inch, wide-heeled dress shoes most older women wore for formal occasions, to the sexier, stiletto-styled heels with straps located at the end of the aisle. To my further surprise, Carole passed the area I often referred to as the "old lady section," and made her way directly to the end of the aisle. Standing behind her, but not so close that I would appear to be crowding her, I watched in absolute awe as Carole picked up first one pair of slinky, sexy, stiletto-heeled pair of shoes after another. In silence, she lifted one pair after another from their storage boxes, examined the heel and then the toe, ran her hand over the straps, then replaced the shoe in its box before continuing on with another pair. "Is there a certain style or heel you're looking for, Carole?" I asked, hoping my question wouldn't stop her in the search for whatever pair of shoes she was seeking. Carole stopped and turned toward me, a pair of four inch, thin-strapped stilettos in her right hand. She examined the shoes for what seemed a long interval before handing the shoes to me and continuing her journey down the aisle. By the time we reached the end of the high heel section, between us, Carole and I held six pairs of our sexier heels. I led her silently to the rear seating area, then quickly excused myself to make my way to the front of the store where I quickly turned off the "open" sign and locked the front door. I had no desire to have my time with Carole interrupted by some late-arriving customer who wanted a pair of gym shoes for their kid. Once again at the rear of the store, I swiftly positioned myself at Carole's feet and waited patiently while she closely examined one pair of shoes after another. Finally, Carole raised her head to me and frowned.

"Oh, Josh," she exclaimed as she handed me the first pair of stilettoes. "I'm in a mess. I have a formal dinner tomorrow night with my husband and I simply forgot all about it!" I'd never seen Carole this flustered before, but as her shoe salesman, I knew it was my duty to make sure she found the right pair of heels for the dinner. She extended her right hand and handed me a pair of patent-leather, three inch heels which she only needed to slip her well-manicured feet into. For some reason, my hands shook as I removed the shoe from her right foot and placed the brown leather flat on the floor beside me. Holding her foot lightly, I slipped the shoe over her toes and onto her foot. My image reflected back to me as Carole twisted her foot first in one direction and then another. Each of her red-painted toes shone brightly as she made sure the shoe fit just right. When she handed me the left shoe, I repeated the process and after several seconds of more foot twisting, Carole finally stood, looking down at her feet from above. "Well, these are certainly something," she said just before pivoting on the thin heels and stepping toward the full-length mirror located behind her.

As Carole made her way to the mirror on the thin heels, I couldn't help but allow my eyes to drift to her ass. Now, I've never been with an older woman before, but that doesn't mean I don't believe they can't be sexually appealing, either. No, I found Carole's ass to be quite well-shaped. After several long seconds, my attention began to slide downward as I appraised her legs, which although they were covered by the long pants she wore, seemed as equally toned as her ass. Carole pranced before the mirror several seconds, turning her body toward the mirror before facing away from it, her eyes locked on the heels covering her feet. In the next hour, Carole tried on each pair of shoes and repeated the process before finally choosing a pair of black, four-inch stiletto heeled shoes with two thin straps located at the ankles and just behind her toes. "Josh, I can't thank you enough for the help you've given me," she said as she paid for the shoes. Because I'd locked the door earlier, she needed my assistance in leaving the store. As I stood close to her, the scent of her perfume drifted to my nose, and I was reminded of some mysterious, tropical location, and nights under a bright, full moon. I stood at the door for a long moment watching Carole's body disappear down the long corridor of the mall, her brown hair flapping against her shoulders as she made her way to her car. When she finally disappeared from sight, my senses returned to me and I quickly went through the end-of-day store closing procedures. Just before I left, I glanced at the next day's schedule and saw that I was slated to work the afternoon shift with Linda, a retired teacher who only worked Saturdays.

The next afternoon, I arrived just before the midday hour. Linda reported that there had been the normal volume of customers but overall, business was slow. My schedule required that I stay again until closing, so for the remainder of the work period, I attended to the occasional customer, worked on straightening the shoe storage areas, and other mundane tasks that ate up the time until I could go home. Late in my shift, with just a half hour to go before closing, Linda approached me and said "You have a phone call, Josh. The lady on the phone seems rather frantic." Thinking that perhaps my mother was calling with some bit of bad news, I rushed to the phone behind the counter. Imagine my surprise when rather than hearing my mother's voice, I heard Carole's voice coming through the receiver.

"Oh, Josh," Carole cried, her voice shriller than I'd ever heard it before. "The most terrible thing has happened. I've just broken one of the heels of the pair I purchased at your store last evening." I could hear the desperation in her voice, but wasn't sure how I could help. "Josh, I simply don't have time to drive to your store and go through trying on pair after pair of heels again. What am I to do?" It suddenly dawned on me that there was a solution to this predicament. I'd simply go to the storeroom and find the same pair of heels Carole had purchased the night before and deliver them to her. It was, after all, close to closing time, and Linda and I often allowed the other to leave early when business was slow.

"Hey, relax, Carole," I said into the phone, hoping my voice was reassuring. "I'll bring a pair of the same shoes to you. I'm due to get off soon, so it's no problem, believe me." Through the receiver, I heard Carole exhale audibly, a sign to me that she was beginning to see that there was, indeed, a solution to the problem. Carole responded by exclaiming, "Oh, Josh, would you do that for just any customer?" When I explained that Carole was more than "just any customer," she stated that she would somehow find a way to repay what she called "a true act of kindness." I told her I'd be there in ten minutes, returned the phone to the receiver, and made my way to the storeroom. I quickly found the same pair of shoes Carole had purchased the evening before, explained to Linda what I was doing, and made my way to my car. Carole's directions to her house were clear and easy to follow and in less than fifteen minutes, I guided my car up her long driveway, parking my car at the entrance to her spacious home.

I noticed a note attached to the front door, with the message, allegedly written by Carole's hand, that I should let myself in, and to meet her in the living room. Feeling somewhat like an intruder, I walked through several rooms until I found myself in the living room, and sat in the edge of a white, leather sofa. Silence filled the room as I waited, the shoes I'd brought resting on the sofa beside me.

To say I was stunned when Carole entered the room would be an understatement. Almost as if she was riding a breeze, she seemed to drift into the room more than to walk into the large space. She'd arranged her brown hair into a bun atop her head, held in place by a black onyx clasp. Long, three-inch silver and diamond earrings dangled from each earlobe, the movement of her body causing the jewelry to swing back and forth with each step she took. Carole had artfully applied makeup to her eyes and cheeks, giving her face the appearance of a woman ten years younger than her actual age. Bright red lipstick covered her mouth, and when she smiled at me, a set of brilliantly white teeth greeted me. Black, elbow-length gloves covered her lower arms, the material providing a stark contrast to the tone of her skin. But while I was transfixed by her face, it was the blue, sequin-covered cocktail dress she wore, and how it clung to her body that had me in complete awe.

The dress was held to her body by two thin spaghetti straps that joined behind her neck and which were anchored at two locations just above the upper rounded edge of each tit. I couldn't help but notice that her tits were either larger than I'd noticed before, or they were being pushed upwards by a lifting bra. Either way, the long line of cleavage held my attention for several long seconds before I forced myself to avert my eyes away from what was certainly an impressive pair of titties. But diverting my eyes didn't stop the sense of amazement washing over me at that instant. I'd never paid much attention to Carole's ass before, and now I was paying the punishment for being so under-observant. The dress clung so tightly to Carole's hips that I was certain she was not wearing panties underneath the slinky material. From there, my eyes followed a line to her right side where a long slit allowed her leg to drift through the opening each time Carole took a step with her foot. Dark stockings or pantyhose, I wasn't sure which at that point, covered her legs, and it was evident she was shoeless. Carole approached me with both arms extended, the movement causing the two large tit bulbs to rise with her forward motion. "Oh, Josh, I can't thank you enough for coming on such a short notice," she said as she wrapped me in a tight embrace. Once again, the same scent from the evening before wafted into my nostrils, and I found myself being pressed against her massive chest by the tight hug she had me wrapped in. When she released me, she stepped back and with my right hand still in her left hand, began to pivot on the heels of her black stockinged feet, turning first to her right, then to her left. "Tell me what you think of this dress, Josh," she said as she turned her back to me.

Now, I've seen plunging necklines and plunging backs of dresses before but I'd never witnessed anything such as the sight that greeted me when Carole faced away from me. The back of her cocktail dress was so wide and plunged so far downward that I was able to see the very top of the crack of her ass. Whether or not Carole intended for the dress to display that much skin was unclear to me, but at that moment, with every nerve in my body firing from this unexpected appearance of what had to be the sexiest older woman I'd ever seen, I could do little more than to simply stare with my mouth fully opened. I felt Carole's hand under my chin when it became evident I had not heard her call my name. Delicately, Carole lifted my chin and said, "So, I take it you like the dress, love?" Feeling the sudden rush of embarrassed heat cover my face, I mumbled some form of an apology before Carole removed her hand from my face and sat down on the leather couch. She noticed the shoe box I'd placed on the sofa, and sat on the soft cushions where I'd sat only moments before. In a flash, the box was opened and Carole held the replacement shoes in each hand. I was surprised to hear a shout of pure joy escaping Carole's lips as she closely examined the two leather objects I'd delivered to her home.

"Oh, Josh, you cannot believe how relieved I am that you would drive here with the shoes and rescue me!" she said. As Carole examined each of the stiletto-heeled shoes, I watched in absolute awe at how happy Carole seemed simply because I'd delivered a pair of replacement shoes. It was then, as she looked first at the right shoe then the left that I once again allowed my eyes to wander over Carole's body. The slit of the cocktail dress had opened somewhat and not only revealed more of Carole's shapely legs, but also provided me with an unexpected but welcome thrill: Just peeking out from the slit in the dress was a lace stocking top. It was clear then that Carole was not wearing pantyhose, but instead, had encased her legs in the same type of sexy stockings I'd only seen in men's magazines. Despite my best efforts to think about something else in order to keep my cock from growing under my trousers, my efforts were unsuccessful as the fleshy tube began to grow to its maximum length of seven inches. Carole suddenly lifted her chin and stared at me, the obvious happiness still painting her face. I couldn't help but notice, however, that for one very quick instant, Carole's eyes seemed to linger at the growing bulge in my trousers. Was it my imagination or did her eyes widen as she stared only momentarily at my now erect cock, or had Carole intentionally allowed her eyes to focus on my dick? Before I could answer the question, Carole quickly placed each shoe on the carpeted floor at her black-stockinged feet, and slid her feet into the heels. As she bent forward, I was once again afforded with a view of her massive cleavage, her giant tits seeming to be straining to be released from the confines of the tight, sexy cocktail dress.

It was then that another moment of opportunity confronted me and I acted as I only knew how. Carole seemed to be struggling with the ankle strap of the left heel, so, resorting to my training, I knelt before her, gently grasped the foot in my hand and guided the foot and unstrapped heel to my lap. The sharp, pointed stiletto heel dug into my cock, but rather than experience pain, I found myself being even more stimulated by the pressure of Carole's foot as it pressed the thin heel against my prick. The thin strap dangled over my wrist as I adjusted the shoe onto Carole's foot. And because I was hoping to prolong the moment, I wrapped my hands around Carole's sleek ankle and began to gently smooth the few wrinkles in the silk material that covered her ankle. Now that Carole's toes were so close to me, I noticed she'd painted the nails a bright red, and again, reacting only as a twenty-two year old man can, my cock began to throb and twitch under my trousers. There was no mistaking the fact that my cock was hard and I was sure that Carole also realized the condition my dick was in.

I've always been a fan of women in high heels, for several reasons. First, as a shoe salesman, I know from experience that heels accentuate the leg muscles, making the legs appear toned and well-formed. I also know that heels cause the legs to stretch slightly, to tighten, providing, to some extent, the appearance of the leg being longer than it actually is. But to be blatantly honest, I ‘m a fan of women wearing heels because it's just downright sexy. Whenever my girlfriend and I make love, I will often request that she wear her heels for me: the sight of two thin high-heeled stems beside my cheeks while I pile-drive my cock into her pussy always ignites my already high intensity sexual flames and causes me to reach orgasm sooner. And now, here I was with Carole, a woman fifty years of age, and me, twenty-two years old, and she was wearing a pair of heels that was causing my cock to harden under my trousers. I adjusted the strap for the For what seemed an eternity, I stared at Carole's left foot, now wrapped in black stockings and a high heel, then repeated the process with the right foot. By now, not only was my cock incredibly hard, harder than it seemed to have ever been before, but so too were my hands shaking. It was clear to anyone who could see me at that moment that I was clearly nervous. And at that moment, there was someone else in the room who had a clear view of my anxiety, and that person was Carole.

"Josh?" I finally heard her say. "Are you alright, dear?" When I raised my head to look at her, Carole had a concerned expression on her face. I quickly gathered my wits as best as I could and responded by stating that I'm glad the shoes fit as well as the pair she'd purchased the evening before. And it was then that yet another unexpected moment occurred when Carole extended her right, black-glove covered hand and placed it against my left cheek. "Hmm," she said as swirled the soft velvet material over my cheek. "You don't seem to have a temperature." What Carole did not know was that the touch of her hand on my skin served only to drive me deeper into the throes of desire, and to cause my heart to beat ever more rapidly. For one long, silent moment, I stared deeply into Carole's brown eyes, the pools deep there, and mysterious. Finally, Carole smiled at me and said, "Well, let's see how these shoes feel when I'm standing."

As Carole stood, the blue dress gave into gravity and the hem fell to her feet. Because the heels were four inches in height, the thin stiletto heels remained in view. It was then that Carole pivoted on the heels and turned her back to me. I saw the dress not only had a slit in the front, but that it also had the same long slit in the back. This slit, however, seemed longer than the front slit and as she moved her feet, I was rewarded with the sight of a thin, black seam beginning at her bare heels and running upward, disappearing under the hem of her dress. Carole spread her legs several inches wide, the dress making a soft swishing sound as a result of her movement. While I stared at the black seams, I heard Carole speak. "Do me a favor, love," Carole said as she pivoted on the heels, turning her back to me. Over her shoulder, she said, "can you tell if my seams are running straight?"

Now, I don't know if Carole had any idea of the torment she was causing me by trying on the high heels. I don't know if she knew my cock was now pushing so forcefully against the zipper of my trousers that I feared the head would tear the fabric as it erupted into view. And I don't know if she could hear the pounding heartbeat in my chest that thundered with every beat. But I do know that what she was asking me to do would require that I touch her again, and with the incredibly stiff cock I seemed unable to cause to die down, was certain Carole would then discover that she had indeed caused my cock to stiffen. And if her request required that I lift the hem of her dress, I was certain too that I would be unable to contain myself.

Before I could move, Carole's hands suddenly appeared at her waist and lifted the hem of the dress until the entire length of leg between her feet and knees was exposed. "Well Josh, what do you see back there," she asked. Oh my god, I thought to myself, what the fuck am I going to do now? By now, my heart was beating so forcefully, I was certain Carole could hear the pounding through my chest. Again, her voice broke through to my consciousness. "Josh, love, if the seams aren't straight, can you please straighten them for me?" With shaking hands, I placed the fingers of my right hand on the seam of the left leg and slowly began an upward trace of the silk stocking covering Carole's skin.

I'd be telling less than the truth if I said my hands were not shaking with sexual anticipation as they made contact with the silk-covered skin. Beginning at the left ankle and moving upward, I gently tugged the seam back into place, into a straight line running from her feet to the area located just behind her kneecap. "Oh, my," I heard Carole say above me, unable to discern whether her words were a moan or a simple statement. Oh my, is right, Carole, I thought to myself: if you only knew what you are doing to me. As my hands moved inch by wonderful inch up her leg, Carole began to sway her ass from side to side, slowly, seductively, enticingly. The higher my hands traveled on her leg, the more I had to lift my body until from a squatting position to where my knees supported a greater portion of my weight. As I lifted my body, my face came into closer contact with Carole's ass, the two ass cheeks so close to me now I had to fight back the urge take each cheek in my hands and caress the soft skin I knew lay just under the thin fabric of the cocktail dress. Finally, my hands reached that part of her leg where the hem of her dress rested, some five or six inches above her knee, and when I looked down, I saw I'd done a good job of straightening the seam. Now, it was on to the right leg.

I repeated the same process of slowly tugging on the right seam, taking my time again, by now greatly enjoying every erotic sensation that coursed through my fingertips and travelled to my cock. My hands traveled higher and higher and again I was forced to raise my body until my face was again less than two inches from Carole's shapely ass. By now, my cock was so hard that I was sure my trousers would burst open any second. But just as my hands reached the hem of her dress, I suddenly seemed to lose my balance, and the palms of my hands quickly encircled Carole's upper thigh to prevent me from crashing forward into her body. Her skin felt soft through the silk stockings and I detected a certain heat, more intense than the normal body heat, more temperate than the warmth coming from her leg. To her credit, Carole never flinched, despite the grip I had on her silk-covered thigh. I was surprised, then, when she lifted her right foot and widened her stance. Again from above, I heard her say, "That should give you more room to do what you need, Josh." Releasing my handhold around her thigh, I sat back and compared each seam to make sure I'd done as this sexy older woman had asked. Each seam ran a true upward course up the exact middle of her legs, disappearing under the hem of her skirt which she still held in her hands.

I guess it was the silence behind her that caused Carole to question what I was doing. With her legs still spread wide, and her weight supported by the two stiletto heels, Carole suddenly turned half around and looked down at me. "Is there a problem, Josh?" she asked, our eyes meeting for the first time in several moments. When I responded by saying that I'd reached a point where I was unable to determine if the seams under her dress were straight or not, Carole simply sighed and turned her head away from me again. To my amazement, the hem of her dress began to rise slowly, seductively, until after what seemed an eternity, two lace stocking tops came into view, followed by bare skin, until finally, Carole's black panty-covered ass emerged from under the hem of the dress. "Does that help, love? Are you able to complete your task now?" Swallowing hard, I once again placed my hands on Carole's left leg and worked my fingers upward until the seam ran straight to the stocking top. The farther my hands traveled upward, the greater the heat I felt through my fingertips. And as my hands neared her ass, Carole increased the side-to-side swaying motion, the black silk covering her ass sheer to the point that I was awarded a clear view of the soft skin underneath the thin garment. The seductive movement increased when I began to correct the right seam, until finally, when my hand reached the lace stocking top, I heard what was unmistakably an audible, pleasure-induced moan.

Now, I'm not going to brag and say that I have the type of touch or sexual experience that drives women mad with desire. But I'm no novice, either, and I do have enough sexual experience that I am able to realize when a woman is moaning from sexual, physical pleasure as opposed to being in pain. The sound that escaped from Carole's lips came from being stimulated and it was then that I made two decisions. First, I decided that I'd had enough of keeping my own desires in check. And secondly, I decided that if Carole was willing to lift the hem of her dress high enough for me to view her ass, then I was going to make the most of this unique situation and see what happened next. At most, I told myself, she'll kick me out of her house.

With my right hand now at the top of the left stocking top, I extended my hand upwards until I felt bare skin under my fingertips. Carole moaned again, but she did not stop me from continuing the searching, hot-tempered tips of my fingers as they began to slide over her panty-covered ass cheeks. It was easy to tell that the skin under the panties was smooth, and because Carole made no effort to stop me, I continued to extend my hands upward until I found the top of her panties. After a few gentle tugs, I'd managed to lower the silk panties until they rested just below her knees, stretching now between her stocking covered legs. Carole's smooth ass cheeks were fully exposed now, seductively, erotically, and I couldn't resist placing my hands flat against each ass cheek.

Deciding that I'd have better access to her cunt if I stood, I raised my body until I was standing behind Carole, my hands planted firmly on each ass cheek, the bulge in my trousers pressed tightly against her body. As Carole's loud moans began to fill the room, I slid my hands downward over her bare ass until making contact with the panties I'd only half pulled down. As Carole arched her back against me, I slipped my hands between her ass cheeks, Carole's moans growing louder, as my fingers continued their journey through the dark recess located below her ass. I finally found the soaking wet slit of her cunt lips and slowly, teasingly, inserted the tip of the left middle finger until it rested firmly inside her pussy. Carole leaned back and pressed her body even tighter against mine, her black-glove covered hands traveling to her neck and releasing the two straps still holding the cocktail dress to her body. The blue-green garment fell to her waist, but there was no mistaking the sexual beauty this amazing older woman possessed. And I had yet to view her frontside.

Although I was unable to see them clearly yet, I had a sense that Carole's tits would either be large or firm, perhaps both. After reluctantly removing my soaked middle finger from her cunt, I placed my hands on her bare shoulders and turned Carole's body in a clockwise motion until she faced me. My eyes immediately fell upon her tits, and I am happy to report that for a fifty year old woman, her tits were huge, and I realized how impatient I was to get at them. But first, I decided to remove Carole's dress. Gently tugging on the material again, I managed to slide the dress down her long, sexy legs until it lay in a heap at her high-heeled feet. And although my brain was screaming at me to suck her titties, I had one final chore to perform before I could focus my attention on Carole's amazing body.

Lowering my body so that I was supported by bent knees, I found myself with only mere inches separating my face and Carole's cunt. As I imagined, her cunt was covered by a mat of black, coarse hair. But while I wanted to jam my fingers inside her pussy, I instead placed my hands on the outstretched panties and guided them to her feet, taking my time, enjoying the sensation of silk stockings against my hands, feeling my cock growing as a result of the sensuality the stockings produced as they made contact with my skin. I felt Carole place both hands against my shoulders as I took my time in removing the panties, until finally reaching her high-heeled feet, I slipped the panties over her right foot but allowed the silk garment to drape over her left ankle. In my mind, I'd spent enough time on removing Carole's clothing and now that at least one leg was free to move, I decided to raise my head to see how Carole was taking me removing her dress and panties.

Although my intent was to find Carole's eyes, my attention was again diverted to her pussy. Only a moment before, I'd been able to resist the temptation of diddling her clit, or sliding my fingers between her pussy lips. And I desperately wanted to do so now. For one long, quiet moment with Carole's gloved hands still resting on my shoulders, I stared at her fifty-year old pussy in absolute awe. Despite the covering of hair, I clearly saw the upper regions of her pussy lips. I could have stared longer, but I felt Carole shift her hands to under my arms as she assisted me in bringing me to my feet.

And as my body came to a more erect position, my face passed by her massive tit package. I pulled on Carole's gloved hands and guided her away from the bundle of clothing resting at her feet. Unwilling to wait any longer to feel the pleasure of Carole's body in my hands, I pressed each open palm against each nipple, and began a gentle massage of each melon. Carole leaned her head back and seemed to fall into the sensation of my young hands mauling her tits. Perhaps my age caused me to be impatient, because I leaned in and took the right nipple, extended at least an inch in stimulated delight, into my mouth and sucked, the fleshy, thimble-sized bud sliding between my lips. "Oh, god, Josh," I heard Carole moan above me, as I leaned in closer to her chest, sucking forcefully still on the right nipple while my left hand continued to maul the huge left titty not more than two inches from the side of my face. I didn't flinch, however, when I felt Carole's gloved hand lift my hand from her titty, and neither did I flinch when she slipped the tip of my index finger between her lips and began to suck my finger clean of her cunt juices. Loud slurping sounds filled the room, a combination of those Carole and I were making together. When Carole completed the task of cleansing my fingertip, she placed her hands on either side of my face and lifted my head until we stood face to face. There was no mistaking the lust in her eyes as she looked intently at me, and when her lips crashed into mine, I responded by wrapping my arms around her almost naked body and pulling her closer to me.

Carole and I kissed deeply, erotically, and for some length of time. Finally, she broke the kiss, pulled away from me, and I watched in awe as she took a step backward, her gloved hands holding mine. "Not too bad for an old woman, huh, Josh?" she said. Hearing her voice, and seeing this woman in this manner drove my cock to maximum hardness now, and while Carole tugged at my trousers, I removed my shirt. Finally, I stood naked before this fifty year old woman.

Well, actually, I stood only for a brief time: Carole suddenly knelt to her knees and as I watched in even greater amazement, she took the shaft of my hard cock into her right hand, extended her neck forward, and pressed her red-colored lips against the head of my achingly hard dick. "Oh, baby, please," I begged, thrusting my hips forward to convince Carole to slide my cock between her lips. "Take my cock in your mouth, baby, please!" I begged again.

Now, my twenty-one year old girlfriend is very good at sucking cock, but I can attest now that there is nothing as erotic, nothing as pleasurable, as having a woman who's old enough to be your mother sliding your cock into her mouth. With each millimeter of cock that disappeared between Carole's lips, I felt a rush of pleasure that I'd never experienced before. Carole's neck extended, then withdrew, then extended again until the entire meaty shaft disappeared into the hot, wet caverns of her mouth. "Oh, shit, Carole," I moaned, thrusting my ass forward now to match Carole's neck back and forth head movements. Each time she drew my cock into her mouth with the shaft wrapped inside the black gloves, I thrust my ass forward until her nose smashed against the base of my dick. I was unsure if I was hurting Carole or not with the mouth slamming I was giving her, but if I was, she made no indication that I should slow down or stop altogether. Extending my own arms downward, I wrapped my fingers in her now mussed hair, released the clasp which held the hair atop her head, and felt the brown tresses cascade over my hands. Faster now, Carole seemed intent on causing me to come in her mouth. For several moments, I stood naked, my cock slipping between her lips while she pressed her hands against my upper thighs. I felt something brush my lower leg and when I looked down, I saw that each time Carole loved her head closer to the base of my cock, her nipples, hard, erect, still moist from the oral cleansing I'd given them, brushed against my leg. The sight of her titties rhythmically touching my legs pushed me to the edge, and I knew that I was soon to reach orgasm. I entwined my fingers between the strands of her hair and pulled: Again, Carole seemed so intent on sucking me to orgasm that she didn't seem to notice or care about the pain I was certainly causing by yanking on her hair.

And it was then, as I neared orgasm, that something happened that I'd never experienced before. By this time, I was pushing, pushing, pushing, my cock wet with her saliva, my cock as hard as a steel pipe, my ball sack slamming into Carole's chin. And it was then that she slid her right hand around my body and with her middle finger, presses it firmly against my asshole. Looking down, I saw Carole's eyes now locked onto mine, as she was silently asking if the pressure she was applying to the tightest opening on my body was painful or not. But there was something pleasurable about the tip of her finger pressed against my asshole and I must have nodded my assent because I soon felt first the tip, then the first knuckle, followed finally by the entire length of her middle finger in my asshole. The sensation was greater than anything I'd ever felt before, and now that my body was being assaulted by a high level of sexual stimulation from two separate areas, I knew there was no way I would be able to keep back the soon to come rush of sexual explosion.

When I came, although my cock was still firmly embedded between Carole's lips, I knew the stream of cum I emitted was thick, hot, and continuous. Each spasm of orgasm caused me to slam my hips forward, to thrust forward with so much force that Carole's head was thrown backward several inches despite the still tight hold I had with my fingers twisted in her hair. And to her credit, each time I trust my ass forward her middle finger remained tightly buried in my anus. Time after time after time, I pushed my cock forward until the orgasm ended, and a weakness descended over my body. And although I felt my cock becoming limp, and although I knew it would become harder to slide it between Carole's lips, she continued to suck on my dick until the supply of hot, white crème ended. Finally, extending her head backward, she released my cock from her oral confines but still held the shaft in her gloved hand. For a long second, Carole stared at my cock, as if she was unsure of what had just happened. But just as suddenly, she placed the opened palm of her right hand under the head of my cock and squeezed the shaft as you would a tube of toothpaste until several drops of white cum pooled in the center of her glove-covered hand. Standing now, she pressed the palm against the right nipple, smearing the crème against the meaty bud. When she completed the task, she extended her hands again, wrapped them around the back of my neck, and gently guided my mouth to her right nipple. "Drink, baby, and enjoy," was all she said as I at first hesitantly, then eagerly cleaned the nipple with my tongue. I discovered that I wasn't repelled by the taste of my own cum, and pressed my mouth and lips tighter against Carole's tit flesh until I was satisfied I'd competed the chore she'd given me. Stepping back from Carole, I couldn't help but stare at her amazing body, how she'd taken care of herself over the years, how she seemed to exude pure sexual heat simply by standing in front of me.

But it was time for me to reciprocate, and I was determined to bring Carole to orgasm. Placing my hands gently on her bare shoulders, I gently pushed her backwards until she lay on the sofa. She looked up at me as I bent over her, the tip of my rigid cock seeking the warm confines of her pussy. Extending her black covered arms and hands, Carole said, "Now, baby, take me now." Straightening my body, I grasped my cock in my right hand and pressed it tightly against Carole's cunt. When she felt the tip pushing against her pussy, Carole arched her back, and again pleaded with me, "Don't make me wait, Josh, please don't make me wait." With one forceful thrust forward, the head of my seven inch cock slid easily between Carole's soaking wet pussy lips and into her cunt, the nerves of my dick eagerly accepting each millimeter of her pussy as it dove deeper and deeper into her waiting pussy. "Oh, yes, Josh, oh, yes," Carole moaned when I'd reached the point where the base of my cock now rested against Carole's cunt. Extending my own arms, I found each of Carole's ankles, grasped the joints in my hands, and lifted her feet until each high heeled foot bracketed my face. Carole seemed to enjoy this new sexual position which allowed me to drive at least another inch deeper into her fifty-year old pussy. "Oh, Josh, baby, what are you doing to me?" Carole more moaned than inquired as she lifted her chin to obtain a view of my twenty-two year old prick sliding easily between her pussy lips.

As I continued to drive into Carole's cunt, I turned my head slightly to the right and it was then that I saw the panties I'd left wrapped around her left ankle. For some reason, the sight of the thin black panties flopping around her ankle and sext high heels with each forward thrust of my cock drove me deeper into passion and I increased both the speed and the power of each thrust as I sought to bring Carole and myself to orgasm.

But as I said earlier, the sight of a sexy woman in high heels causes my sexual fires to burn hotter. Seeing Carole's feet encased in the stockings, but more importantly, the high heels, caused me to extend my neck more to the right until I was able to take the slim stiletto heel into my mouth. And with Carole's eyes now glued on me, I began to suck the stiletto heel just as she had sucked my cock earlier. "Oh, my, Josh, aren't you a surprise?" Carole asked as she extended her right hand between her legs where my cock was punishing her pussy and began to stimulate her clit with the tip of her black-gloved covered hand. For several moments, neither Carole nor I spoke, while I simultaneously sucked in the high heel while driving my cock repeatedly into Carole's pussy, and while she continued to diddle her clit with her right hand. When I'd had enough of sucking Carole's high heel, I pushed her legs forward so that her silk-covered knees were now pressed against her bare titties. Now, this more direct style of fucking allowed me to raise my ass higher than before, which also increased the torque and driving force of my forward thrusts. "Yes, Josh, yes!" Carole screamed now, loudly, her voice echoing from the walls. "FUCK ME, BABY, FUCK ME HARD!" she demanded as I drove deep, deep, deep between her pussy lips. Each time I buried my cock to the hilt inside Carole's cunt, I felt the back of her silk-stocking thighs brush against my chest. And with the sight of those wonderful high heels now resting just above her head, and the panties on her left ankle dangling just above her face, I knew I was not far from coming again. On and on and on I drove, pulling the shaft almost the full length of the meaty tube upward until only the head remained buried between her pussy lips. Then, back down again, driving, forcefully, each downward thrust driving Carole's body deeper into the sofa cushions.

I leaned forward as soon as I felt the first stirrings of an orgasm building in my loins. I smashed my lips against Carole's mouth and she reacted by wrapping her velvet-covered hands and arms around my bare shoulders and pulled me closer to her. It was then that I felt her cunt muscles tighten and I sensed that Carole too was as close to coming as I was. As I pressed my perspiration-soaked body closer to Carole's, her tits and nipples pressing into my chest, I stared deeply into the two, deep chocolate-brown pools that represented her eyes. I relaxed the grip I had on her upraised legs, giving Carole enough room to lift each silk-covered leg high above my back and to wrap her ankles tightly around my waist. Now held in her tight leg-lock, and unable to lift my ass high enough to pull my cock fully from her pussy in order to slam it home again, the body position Carole and I now joined in resembled two desperate, or perhaps determined wrestlers, each intent on winning the match, or perhaps, in this case, each determined to reach orgasm as soon as possible, hopefully together. "I see you're enjoying this, Josh," Carole hissed into my face, her breath hot, and tinged with unmistakable lust. When I nodded my head in agreement, Carole said, "Well, love," her crisp, perfect British accent more pronounced now, "I'm enjoying it even more." Carole tightened the ankle lock around my waist again, pressing me tighter against her body as she took over the fucking we'd commenced many moments before. And because she had me in such a tight embrace, my cock remained buried inside her pussy, and I was unable to thrust backward, able to do no more than simply enjoy the sensation of my cock being swallowed by a fifty-year old cunt.

At first, unable to move now, I was convinced that I would be unable to come. But one thing I was forgetting was the level of sexual experience Carole brought with her to this situation. As I lay upon her heaving chest and looked down at her, it was then I felt a unique tingling seemingly surrounding my cock. Carole stared at me as I stared at her and it was then that I realized Carole was exercising her pussy muscles in a way that I had never experienced before. "How does that feel, baby?" she asked as the tingling intensified and my cock began to feel as if it were being stroked by a million tiny fingers. Suddenly, unexpectedly, and before I could brace myself, my cock began to explode inside Carole's cunt as wave after wave of hot, pearly-colored crème spewed from my cock and began to fill this beautiful woman's pussy.

But what amazed me more than anything was the fact that as I began to come, so too did Carole. A high-pitched, shrill wail escaped her ruby red lips as she tightened the arm lock she had on my shoulders. "OH, JOSH, OH, JOSH, BABY" she screamed as she arched her back time after time to accept more of my cock. "I'M COMING, BABY, YES, FUCK YES, I'M COMING!" On and on and on Carole and I gyrated our bodies as we simultaneously experienced the pleasure that comes from a sexual explosion. "OH, DEAR GOD, DEAR GOD!" Carole screamed now, her voice echoing from the walls and returning to me.

But I was coming too, and although my brain was erupting in sensual pleasure, I realized that the orgasm now engulfing my body was the most intense, the most pleasurable, the most powerful set of sexual seizures I'd ever had in my life. "OH, FUCK, CAROLE!" I screamed back at her, our mouths now only millimeters apart. "BABY I'M COMING TOO!" I roared, my voice also echoing from the walls. For several more moments, Carole and continued our intense sexual dance as we joined in an act I never anticipated when I delivered the replacement high heels earlier in the evening. But here I was now, my cock firmly buried inside Carole's cunt, and slowly but surely filling every last crevice inside her pussy with the thickest and hottest load I'd ever produced. After several moments, Carole released the ankle lock around my waist and lay back, her black-covered hands caressing my face as she applied light kisses to my lips, my cheeks, my forehead. I responded by returning her kisses before lifting my upper body and supporting my weight with my outstretched arms, my hands resting on either side of Carole's head.

Looking down at Carole, looking down at the first older woman I'd ever had the joy of having a sexual experience with, I knew that from that moment on, I would always want an older woman. I knew that a page had been turned in my life, and all because of Carole. After my heart rate returned to normal, I sat up and pulled my body from between her stocking covered legs, taking a seat on the small chair behind me. Carole sat up as well, her massive tit package showing the effects of the continual rubbing that had occurred between our bodies. Carole stared quietly at me for a long moment before finally rising from the sofa and taking a seat on the floor at my feet. Her hands began to massage my thighs and although it had been less than five minutes since I'd had an orgasm, I felt the familiar stirring in my cock that I'd become so familiar with. I heard Carole's voice, soft and gentle. "Josh, you have no idea how much what just happened between us means to me." I sat in amazement that this woman, this wonderful sexy, vibrant woman was actually thanking me. But I also sensed that she had more to say. I only had to wait a brief second before she spoke again. "And I must be honest with you, love," she said as her eyes locked onto mine. By now, Carole's right hand had reached high enough up my naked thigh that her fingertips were ever so close to where my limp, but hardening cock lay upon my leg. "I didn't really break the heel of the shoes I purchased last evening, Josh," she said, her voice just barely above a whisper. "It's just...well...What I mean to say is..."Carole suddenly averted her eyes to some other part of the room until I placed my hand under her chin and brought her attention back to me. I nodded my head, a signal for her to continue. Finally, after giving me a loud, audible sigh, Carole looked her eyes onto mine again and said, "Josh, there's a reason I've been coming to your store for a year now. You see, it was then when I first entered your shop that I realized I had a thing for younger men, and each time I entered your store, you were always kind to me." It was slowly dawning on me where Carole was going with her words, but I wanted to hear it from her. "So, I cooked up this scheme to get you here. And you may as well know, I don't have a gala to attend." Carole's deep brown eyes bore into me, questioning what my next move would be, waiting silently for my response.

My first question, of course, was where her husband might be. Carole actually giggled as she stood, extended her arms and drew me to a standing position. She embraced me yet again in a tight embrace, her huge titties pressed again against my chest. "Love, Bob's away for the weekend, but I have to tell you that he knows all about you being here." For several long seconds, my heart beat louder and more forcefully than it had even while my entire body shook while I was experiencing an orgasm. "You see, love," Carole said as she unwrapped herself from my arms and took me by the hand, "Bob and I share our fantasies all the time. In fact, right now, he's with my college roommate in Dallas." Stepping back, Carole maintained her hold on my hand and I realized she was leading me to another section of the darkened house. After a short journey where I walked behind her and admired her naked ass every step of the way, we arrived at her expansive bedroom. Silently, she led me to her bed, and gently laid me on the soft mattress. I watched in sensual wonderment as this incredible, fifty-year old woman crawled upon the bed, her huge tits hanging low below her chest, the nipples extended again in sexual stimulation. But rather than lay her body beside mine, instead, Carole straddled my waist, her stocking-covered legs bracketing my naked body. Carole lifted her ass several inches, extended her right hand between her legs, and it was then I felt the warmth of her fingers as she wrapped her hand around the shaft of my now very hard cock. "Oh, my, what have we here?" Carole asked, her eyes locked onto mine. "Well, then, I guess we'll have to find a way to use this now, won't we, love?" For the next twelve hours, Carole found one spectacular and erotic use for my cock.

When I drove away the next morning after breakfast, I couldn't help but marvel at the night I'd had with an amazing older woman. That afternoon, back at the shop, each time I saw a customer enter the store, if she was my age or younger, I made sure that one of the other employees waited on them. I had new customers, you see, and they were all more than fifty years old.