Hannah’s Taken Out Of Settled Ways, Again

"A widow resumes her affair witha younger man."

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1

Hannah’s cry of surprise startled the dogs, and they barked as she called out his name. She slowed her Range Rover to a crawl and pushed the button that would open the window. Had she tempted fate, or succumbed to wishful thinking during her drive over the mountain roads from the ferry port at San Sebastian? She had wondered, nervily, if Manolo would be on leave from the Army and would again be visiting his parents, and her housekeepers, when she stayed in the Randall family’s holiday home. The end of the main tourist season would now allow her to attend to postponed upgrading works of the holiday apartments that she had created in other parts of the house.

The autumn storms, off the Bay of Biscay and the open reaches of the Atlantic Ocean beyond, were in stark contrast to the warm and settled weather that she had been lucky enough to enjoy only three months ago and when she had fallen into a passionate and restorative affair with the young man she now saw smiling at her.

His short, tousled, black hair and his unshaven chin and cheeks, took nothing away from his rugged good looks. If anything, he was even more desirable than when she had last seen him, a supremely fit young soldierly type. Just how was she to deal with a sudden, palpable, sense of bewilderment on meeting his unflinching stare upon her once more, a look that she had been ensnared by the first time they had met?

Absence, or denial of him, only made her heart beat a little quicker. How Manolo looked at her only made that feeling acute. He would see that she had changed, the effect upon her of a raging, short-lived, affair persuading her to follow a rigorous diet, and the weight of a fleshier woman was gone, and all of that due to what she ate and walking the dogs every day; these small changes in her lifestyle ensuring that it would never return. If she had claimed his attention when she had not been at her best, then why not now?

Manolo greeted her in Spanish and provocatively called her his ‘mujer deseable’.

‘It’s how you made me feel,’ she responded only too directly, the need for being coy long since dispensed with. ‘Get in and keep me company for the short drive to the house?’

She sensed that his eyes were on her, but she resolutely looked ahead at the winding road as it rose between outcrops of rock that were still covered by dense shrubbery, the canopies of the trees dense and darkening the way ahead until they came to the pillars that marked the gated entrance to ‘Quinta Virgia’. The car slowed down and she felt a moment’s caress on her face, the drawing away of her greying blonde hair that was styled in a bob cut and framed her slender cheeked face.

‘It all looks so tidy,’ she observed, needing to say something to distract herself from what Manolo was doing, from all that his simple touch had again aroused in her. A tempestuous affair, when they had last been together, had flared until his loving with her had been fanned into a raging white heat. It seemed that it would be no different now. ‘Have you been here helping your father again?’

‘Only yesterday and when he finally told me you would be here. I stay for two more days then my leave is over. I have not been back here since I last saw you.’ He stopped her from moving on and leaned in closer. He waited a split second before she felt compelled to look at him. It was then that he kissed her, and reached out to stroke her thigh. ‘Just seeing you again makes me feel the way that I do, Hannah.’

‘Yes, so it seems.’ She felt it too, the cramp of a raging longing to be naked in his arms once more.

The gears crunched and the car moved off in a roar of engine noise. Hannah was oblivious to the tidiness of the orchard and fruit trees, to the neatly raked gravel of the driveway closest to the still shuttered-up house, on the ground floor at least, as she parked by the front door. The dogs barked and she was relieved to see Manolo jump from the car and jerk open the back door and let the dogs out. They scampered away barking and rushing, to and fro, leaped against her in their excitement to be here, and then went off again.

Hannah came to him. ‘Will we be alone for a while?’

She asked it brazenly, forsook any finesse because Manolo had that effect upon her all over again; the older woman giving way to her lust for a young man who made no secret of his wanting to pay homage to her once more. She and her late husband, Stephen, had made a ‘home from home’ and she had decided to keep it on. It had offered comforting seclusion, at the time of her loss; a place to pursue her painting and then, months ago, a place to succumb to Manolo’s easy charms. She had taken him as her lover, a young man who had so passionately and, she had discovered, unselfishly paid homage to her at every opportunity. He had accomplished all that she needed from him; had met an aching need for physical fulfillment and helped her to bridge an emotional void that had opened up in her life following Stephen’s loss.

She had resolved not to make any more of it than for their times in bed to be anything deeper than a fleeting affair, a holiday fling, and nothing that would endure; a relationship to be pursued when she was again here. Her affair with Manolo would remain just that, fleeting and intensely pleasurable. She and Manolo had chanced upon each other and had pursued an affair for very different reasons.

To realize that was not to diminish all that had been discovered with him. She had not sought love or an enduring relationship, and neither had he. It had become an unspoken rule of theirs as they discovered all the fleshy and unconfined pleasures of being together and loving.

She had resolved to live on and do so differently, her young lover opening her mind to new possibilities. She was only fifty-five, a young widow with her passion for painting, and thanks to Manolo and his ways, to loving and sharing the raging heat, what he brought to her. It had become a rousing and exhausting departure from all that had d gone on before in her life with Stephen.

‘Here you are again, señora….with me,’ she heard Manolo say in his teasing way, his easy voice admiring and not deferential. He embraced her and she reached up to keep his lips to her skin; leaned back against him and felt him offer kisses to her throat as his hands slowly moved under her tunic blouse and his fingers stroked her tummy, flatter and firmer than he would have known it, her breasts round and heavy, as then; her nipples already hard buds of delight and that she ached to have him claim. And then there was every other attention to her body, especially her neglected source of pleasure, that needed his lustful touch.

‘Yes, here I am!’ she gasped in near-perfect Spanish. ‘Leave everything here and take me to bed!’

‘We have two hours, no more…my people will return from their trip…shopping for you, they said.’

‘It will have to be enough!’ she told him and pulled on his hands; the dogs left to settle in their boxes in the kitchen where she told them to go on a single word of command.

Restraint would be for later, much later, she had decided.

2

In the bedroom familiar to him from the last times they had been together, Manolo slid his arm around her back and drew Hannah to him, leaning in to kiss her. She felt the heat in him, the urgency as their tongues swirled and probed in the other’s mouth, their breaths snatched for and Hannah shivering on feeling one of his hands cup her breast as he sought to massage it gently; squeezing upon the hard nipple, the fabric of her bra also brushing her enervated skin. She felt herself slowly falling into a void of erotic sensations that his touches to her breasts and over her tummy aroused.

‘You give me no time,’ she groaned in dismay and possessed by a sudden rush of longing for him. Just as before, Manolo was so certain of his actions and the effect that they had upon her.

‘No, my parents are out…said they would not be here when you arrived. We have some time and I know once more that…that there is no one like you, no one who makes me feel the way that you do.’ He had removed her blouse and pushed her slacks down over her trembling thighs, pressed his face to her belly, then her mound, before trailing kisses over her legs as if paying slow homage to her, his belleza, his beauty.

She had heard it all before and believed him; succumbed to his ways as Manolo traced a path of kisses down over her throat, along her chin, on her fluttering eyelids, and then down before his lips nestled between the tumble of her breasts that strained the fabric of her bra. Deftly, he unhooked the fastening and tugged it away, groaning at what was now fully revealed to his gaze. Hannah kept his hands and lips to her, felt weak from the rush of longing that he had so quickly aroused in her. She had no wish to restrain him and remembered every detail of the young man who had become her lover, a raging distraction from all that had once felt so real.

‘Go on, we’re alone for now…so…so don’t stop!’ What a welcome she would discover, with him, as they pursued a reunion tryst that she hoped would become a raging tempest of lustful coupling.

‘You bring so much to please me,’ he kissed, his tongue tantalizing her nipples, one after the other, as it flickered across and swirled around them. ‘Now here…yes?’

’Yes!’ she laughed in dismay to be even asked as one of his hands slipped past the hem of her panties and began caressing her cleft, fingered her pussy’s lips, and stroked over her clitoris before he pressed onto it. She shuddered and clung to him, bucking her hips to heighten the sensations that he had so quickly and expertly aroused. ‘Lie down for me…’

Hannah watched him undress hurriedly, her hands brushed away as Manolo stripped down to his briefs, the fabric straining from all that it contained. She lumped back on the cool covers of what had once been the wide marital bed, moaning softly, virtually helpless under his renewed attention to her breasts, to her tummy, and then his fingering of her; the parting of her pussy’s lips. She stopped worrying about doing something for him in response and, instead, languished in the mental and sensual delights that he brought once more, the restrained woman of home now surrendering to the attentions of her young Spanish lover.

‘What a welcome!’ she cried out as Manolo trailed kisses all over her body, or caressed her skin with the lightest of fingertip touches, retracing the trails over her skin and finally leaning over her.

‘Do it for me, lovely Hannah…as we once did?’ She nodded, furiously, as he knelt over her and pulled down his briefs, gasped as his penis sprung free and arced out from his taut belly, a long pole of flesh with its glistening, bulbous tip. He lay back, a soft wondering smile teasing his lips. ‘Love with me…remind me how it goes when I am with you like this.’

She knew how she would behave with him, taken out of her only too-ordered comfort zone once more by an ardent lover who made her spirit fly free. Compelled to do so by his kisses and touches, she soon straddled his head and felt his stubble scratch her butt cheeks before Manolo’s tongue probed into her, slicked kisses to her pussy’s lips as she leaned forward to slowly kiss and caress his strong body with her lips and nipples; slid her caressing hands over his hips before they gripped that magnificent flesh. She brushed the domed tip against her cheeks, then lips, before it disappeared into her mouth in a slow circling claim that became deeper and rhythmic. She pursued loving ways with this younger man that were, as they had been before, a departure from all that she had properly shared with her late husband. She had become someone else, in no time at all, and whispered endearments as she offered and received oral delights.

‘Yes, go on you wonder…mi belleza… that you want to do that for me!’ he called out, sensing that once she had begun to work on him, with her mouth and fingers, Hannah could not stop.

She did not answer. Instead, she was consumed by a raging need to be with him in every way possible, and their time alone in the quiet house allowed them, her servants away for an unknown, uncertain, length of time. She tipped her head sideways as her lips and mouth roamed over his shaft in lazy movements, kissing and sucking, offering tantalizing nips to his skin as she cupped and squeezed on his sac.

‘I remember you liked me doing this for you,’ she mumbled, her mouth full of what he would bring into her already receptive body. The cramps of anticipation had begun to gnaw at her insides, inflamed further by the sensation of Manolo’s mouth seeming to cover her slicked heat, the flickering dart of his tongue deep into her. That he was so expert in these ways, how he had learned of them,  did not concern her.

Hannah felt his hands grip her breasts as he lifted his hips from the bed to meet her sucking claims upon him. She tried not to gag. There were only so much of these preambles to loving him that she could take. She did not want Manolo to climax in her mouth, but she knew of his sublime control. Her head bobbed up and down, her tongue ran wild over his length, and she stayed in control of her body that was wracked by the pleasure that his fingers and tongue brought to her; the insane rushes of pleasure that she felt from his nose rubbing between her butt cheeks. How far could she fall in such a short time? She felt on fire from his tonguing of her; she could taste his pre-cum on the tip of his love wand before she slid down once more, engulfed the twitching prick that slipped over her tongue and prompted her to clench her lips around him in time with the rush and ebb of her pleasure, from all that they shared.

‘Woman…woman! Ai…aieee!’ he called out as she kneaded his testicles, clamped upon the wrinkled skin of his sac and felt its weight, and then on one alone. ‘Go slow…slow down!’

She wondered if she could do that. His cock felt hard and warm, long and strong in her mouth and she wanted his cum inside her, not to feel it burst and for her to swallow all that he would expel. She didn’t want to drink from that fountain of delight.

‘I’ll stop,’ she gagged, as his bucking hips forced his penis deep into her mouth.

‘Do that…I cannot wait!’ he gasped in response, feeling the bed sag as she moved off him and straddled his hips. He met her wondering look, felt the sublime, admiring, caress of her hands over his belly and chest as she leaned forward and simply pressed her lips to his mouth, did not fully kiss him, but shred in their breaths of anticipation.

‘Mi amoroso…mi fuerte!’ she murmured and meeting his lustful stare upon her. She pressed down on his hips and crushed his penis against her slicked heat and Manolo’s belly. She then kissed him again, languished in his loose embrace upon her, and had Manolo taste and breathe in what she had seduced from him and her juices on his lips.

‘Let me love you…love with you now,’ he kissed, delighting in the indolent sway and fullness of her breasts, those wonderful nipples, before shifting her from him and coaxing Hannah to lie back, her legs spread. He delighted in herm every fold and hollow before moving to kneel between her thighs, Hannah’s glistening sex open to his gaze and slick with his fingers.

Hannah sensed that his kisses had become a combination of unbridled lust for her body and also a renewal of an emotional bond that she had never conceded to. It did not belong to these ways of it between them. She wanted nothing more than the raw and uninhibited carnality that he aroused and had her behaving in ways that she had never fully pursued with Stephen.

Quivery feelings, and rushes of pleasure, seemed now to be coursing through her veins, to grip every fibre of her naked body. She felt that she would lose control and that his touches alone would tip her over the edge. She was older than him, yet it felt that she was like clay in a potter’s hands, that he could do what he wanted with her. She was in her home and lay naked on her bed, yet he was in control, and she loved it to be that way.

Manolo trailed kisses over her thighs, swept his lips over the soft, smooth, skin of one thigh then the other as his fingers brushed her slit, joined her fingers in opening the way to his tongue finding her again. He kissed the outer lips, and dipped his hard tongue tip into her, the effect having her bucking her hips to meet these claims, her jagged breaths sharp and quick, her hands on his head to keep him there.

‘Just bring it to me!’ she called out in halting Spanish, love words not fully remembered from their last times, but his actions recalled with crystal clarity. He ate her out and her hands clutched fistfuls of the bedcovers as his tongue swirled and stroked. They were matched by the dip of his tongue into her.

‘Oh fuck!’ she called out in Spanish as his fingers took over from his tongue and moved in deepening, stretching circular motions that had her writhing under him and with release rushing in upon her.

‘Hold on…hold on to it.’

‘I…I can’t hold back!’ was all she could gasp, dismayed to feel his fingers ease away and his penis pushed into her open body in one long sinuous thrust.

Her eyes fluttered and shut; opened again, as he began to move inside her warm haven, to stretch and ease her to make way for all that he brought. She trembled in response to these sensations of her body being possessed once more, and by him.

Once in, he slid his arms under her back, supporting himself on his elbows while embracing her. He began taking long, slow, easy thrusts and Hannah was coaxed to raise her legs and wrap them around him, crossing her ankles or holding them with outstretched hands. She twisted and bucked her hips from side to side, up and down, and met his every forward move with a grinding motion of her own, putting an ever-changing pressure on her pussy.

‘We fuck now…we fuck each other,’ was all that he called out as she locked his body to her with arms and legs, caressed his heaving body, and gripped his head with both hands as they shared in snorted kisses and gasps for breath, their hips jerking and slamming against the other as, finally, they shared in an intense orgasm. Bolts of his semen seared into her and she clenched her lips to stifle her shouts of abject pleasure and clawed at his hips to keep him to her.

‘We share this moment…again…you lovely and passionate woman!’

Her body felt on fire, the thrust and easing away of his penis did not stop. He wanted her and crushed her body against his, oblivious to her fingers pushing between their bodies as she touched the base of his shaft. She was as one with him, their bodies joined in the ebbing afterglow of their shared and consummated passion.

‘Don’t go, not yet,’ she asked, dismayed that he was easing away from her so soon. ‘We have only just met again, and…and you’ve loved with me as never before.’

Hannah reached across the bed in her efforts to detain him, but she failed.

‘I must, my people will be here soon, and I do not want them to find me here with you…and make explanations. You do not want that.’

She understood but when he lay down beside her, his mind changed, she nestled against him; pressed her aching breasts against his body as she stroked his belly and gripped his flaccid length that was slicked with her juices and his cum. She needed no persuading to lie on him, to make her body feel as one with his once more. She had again taken so much from him, had known the brutal strength of his passion and need to know of her again.

‘We will have to find ways to be together, while I am still here. I have two more days, then I go back…’

She groaned out of dismay to hear it said, but a harsher reality soon crept into her mind. To pursue again a raging affair with him would be to compromise the relationship with her staff who are no more, or less, her lover’s parents. How was she to look them in the eye if they knew their son was her lover; all that she had shared with him, moments ago? It might yet be the only time that she would be taken out of what had passed for settled ways when she was alone, both here and back in England.

‘What will be, will be…’

She was reluctant to let Manolo leave her side, but she watched him get dressed, to push that love wand back into his briefs before he tugged on his shirt and trousers, and stepped into his shoes.

And all the while she met his look upon her, naked and sprawling on her bed, the skin of her thighs aching and still feeling hot and clammy from what he had so lustfully and continuously, expelled into her until he had been satisfied. This man, her lover, was so unlike her late husband in his loving of her; lustful and energetic, inventive and with the stamina of the young man that he was. Yes, Manolo was her lover, but he had also been an opportunist and she had let him in. She had, again, wanted him to be her seducer and lover, to fuse her skin with his, once more and just as she had surrendered to him earlier in the year. Then, the family had gone and she had been left alone in the house, only the dogs and her art to occupy her. But a tryst in the orchard had soon become a tempestuous affair with her housekeeper’s son; liaisons that had been pursued in secrecy over the days and nights that remained of her holiday and Manolo’s Army leave.

‘I will try and keep my hands off you when we meet again, here…and with my people around,’ he kissed, a hand sweeping over her stomach and then caressing her achingly sore nipples. She must have been oblivious to how much attention he had paid to them as they rutted. It had not been acts of loving but tempestuous and, perhaps, selfish sex pursued by them both.

She touched herself as if to be reminded of what had been shared. Manolo watched her do that, a soft smile seen on his lips and an unmistakable look of lust for her in his eyes.

‘We may find a way and do anything you want, Manolo. You can do anything you want with and to me,’ she chose to say and hoping that it did not sound, too much, like a promise with a certain ending. ‘I am alone here, after all, this time.’

She was the mistress of the house and she had been taken out of ordered ways with him again, ever since she had arrived in the lane that passed the house.

His footsteps on the landing, then stairs, slowly fell away and she was left to wonder just what she had pursued with him, all restraint and decorum having been forsaken. An enduring relationship it could never be, but pleasure could be found in so many guises and her arrival at Quinta Virgia had been one of them.

Published 2 years ago

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