The high school I attended always scheduled spring break earlier than the public schools and the other private schools in the city and county I lived; normally the second week in March. A week and a half before spring break, Mrs. Jennings and I were lying in her bed enjoying the cuddling and conversation after we had sex.
“Are you doing anything next week for spring break?” she asked me.
“No plans. What about you?”
“Richard will be home tomorrow evening and will be home for next week. His sister and her husband are flying in from Arizona to be with their mother for a week. Richard needs a break because Barbara is getting worse and it has been very difficult for him. He is then going back to North Carolina during spring break.” She explained.
“Are you going with him?” I asked.
Sometimes when her husband went to North Carolina, Mrs. Jennings did go with him. It was a rare thing, but she did go at times but she never stayed more than a couple of days or three at the most. During Christmas break, she was planning to stay the entire break and come home after New Year’s, but she came home just after a week because of a frightening incident.
Mrs. Jennings was cleaning the kitchen while her husband was watching television and her mother-in-law, Barbara, was asleep. Barbara had gotten out of bed and went into the kitchen. Due to her illness, she did not recognize Mrs. Jennings and thought she was an intruder in her home, and tried to stab her daughter-in-law with a kitchen knife. Alzheimer’s can make a person mean.
The incident shook Mrs. Jennings badly and she was upset that things had gotten to the point that she could not even be in the same house as her mother-in-law. I did have some empathy and did think it was sad. I was not heartless. But I also did not mind my teacher being home either. I don’t think she minded it much and she got over being upset about it when we spent New Year’s Eve together at her house. I fucked her brains out several times that night and ended our fuck fest by fucking her in the ass.
Since I started fucking Mrs. Jennings at her house, I made it a point to fuck her in every room in the house she lived in with her husband, including the laundry room and the garage. I fucked her in the ass as she was bent over the hood of her car.
When her husband called to wish her a Happy New Year, Mrs. Jennings answered the phone on the nightstand next to her bed. She was on her hands and knees on the bed while I was behind her eating her pussy and asshole out.
“You should have told him Patrick wished him a Happy New year,” I said after she hung up the phone. “And told him how much I appreciated him giving up his wife’s black pussy and black ass to me to use.”
Mrs. Jennings giggled, “You are awful.” She then asked me to keep using my fingers and mouth on her pussy and butthole to make her cum.
“No, she is getting much worse and my being there just makes it worse for her and me and Richard.” Mrs. Jennings answered my question about her going to North Carolina for spring break. She sounded sad.
Her sadness was not that she would be away from her husband during spring break, but because she was sad about how sick her mother-in-law was becoming. Mrs. Jennings and Barbara did not have the best relationship when her mother-in-law was healthy but she did love the woman. It is a terrible thing to see someone you love go through that as their mind slipped away from them. I didn’t fully comprehend it at the time, but when I was older and fully understood it when my grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.
Mrs. Jennings ran her hands through my chest. “We can spend a great deal of time together that week,” she said hopefully.
“We could go out of town,” I suggested.
Mrs. Jennings giggled and started to kiss and suck my nipples as she slipped her hand down to my crotch and took my cock in her hand.
“Yes. We could go to Paris or Rome or maybe a Caribbean Cruise,” she teased me as she stoked my hard cock.
She did not think I was serious. She gave my cock a gentle squeeze, licked both my nipples, and looked up at me. “Or we could just get a cabin in the mountains and never leave the cabin and have sex all week long until we are both too exhausted to even get out of bed.”
“I am serious,” I told her. “We could go somewhere. I can tell my mom that I am going camping with some friends like I did last year.”
Mrs. Jennings took her hand off my cock, propped her head up on her elbow, and looked at me. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
She thought for a moment and smiled. “It would be fun to get away. We could go someplace no one knows us so we could do things where we did not have to sneak around and hide anything.”
“I would like that.” I thought for a moment. “We could go to Savannah. It’s not far but far enough where no one knows us and it will be during St. Patrick’s Day. There is a lot to do in Savannah and St. Patrick’s Day is a big deal over there. It’s a week-long celebration with parades and different events and I always wanted to go during St. Patrick’s Day.”
“I have never been to Savannah but heard it’s beautiful.” Mrs. Jennings thought for a moment. “What about a hotel room? Surely we can’t get one on short notice and money. I have some I can use from my monthly household allowance. I don’t spend as much since Richard is not home as much now.”
I smiled. “Leave the hotel up to me. I can take care of that. As for money, I have a lot saved up and I can take some out of my savings. Since I got my scholarship offer I don’t have to worry about too much money for college.” I leaned over and kissed Mrs. Jennings on the forehead. “Let me take care of all the expenses.”
“Baby, I can’t let you do that. And you were saving to try and buy a new car.”
“Yes you can and you will. I owe you a great deal for helping me and tutoring me,” I told her. “Plus my car runs great and it’s kind of unique driving around in a yellow VW Bug.”
Mrs. Jennings giggled. “I like your car, it’s cute. But are you sure, baby?” she asked
“Yes. I want to.”
“But what would we tell people or how would we explain us being together? A teenage boy and a thirty-eight-year-old woman being together, especially a white boy and an older black woman, are going to draw looks and maybe even some people ask questions. And staying in the same hotel room is certainly going to draw attention.”
“Who cares what people think,” I told her. “I will be eighteen next week so it won’t be illegal and you can’t get in trouble. No one would know you are my teacher so your job won’t be in trouble. No one would know us so they won’t know you are married. Fuck what they think.” I reached up and caressed her cheek. “Plus I have every intention of people seeing us as a couple. Sneaky around while you cheat on your husband is exciting but it would be nice to not have to do that for a week. Maybe we can even make a game of it like you enjoy playing. You pretend to be some rich black woman with a young white boy toy.”
Mrs. Jennings giggled. “That would be fun but you can’t be my boy toy. I am your toy or at least that’s how you treat me.” She giggled at her comment.
“OK then I will be the rich, spoiled white boy with a trust fund and you will be my old, black, ghetto whore I buy things for and take on trips to be able to fuck your black pussy and ass.” Mrs. Jennings laughed at that.
“You need to think of something to tell your husband why you are not home when he calls,” I told her, “and the Drews.”
Mr. and Mrs. Drew were good friends with Mrs. Jennings and her husband and they took it upon themselves to check up on her when Mr. Jennings was in North Carolina. Lucky for us they had proper manners and never came over without calling her first. There had been several times they called when I was at her house.
“I can just call Richard from the hotel,” she told me. Before cell phones and before caller ID was not standard it was so much easier to cheat on your spouse. “Brad and Allana are going to Miami to visit her family over spring break.”
“So what do you think?” I asked her.
Mrs. Jennings didn’t answer; instead, she moved under the bed covers, lifted them to peak at me, and smiled.
“I think I need to practice being your ghetto whore when we are in Savannah,” she giggled again and covered her head with the covers and put my cock in her mouth.
“A shame we can’t invite Mrs. Drew with us,” I told Mrs. Jennings as she sucked my cock and I watched the sheet go up and down where her head was. “You could drive and she and I could be in the back seat and she could be constantly sucking my cock the entire trip.”
Mrs. Jennings stopped sucking my cock and pulled the sheet off of our bodies. She then knelt on the bed next to my lap.
“You think I would let that happen even if your perverted fantasy about Allana came true?” There was a hint of anger in her voice.
“No I guess not,” I answered. “Maybe I could drive and you and she could be in the back and you could be eating her Cuban pussy out the entire trip then.”
“God, you are so disgusting!” Mrs. Jennings started to get out of bed.
I reached up and grabbed her hair and pulled her back down. She started whimpering in pain as she frantically tried to pull my hand off her hair. I pulled her down until her face was pressed up against my hard cock.
“Please, Patrick, you’re hurting me, please let me up. I was just going to go pee, I promise. I was going to come back and finish. Please, it hurts,” the older black woman whined out.
“Lying whore. You got mad and thought you could just leave me with a hard cock while you go sulk somewhere,” I told her harshly. “You forgot who owns your black ass. You are going to be an obedient, old ghetto whore and finish sucking my white cock. If you’re lucky I may fuck that nasty, old black pussy later. If you really need to piss and can’t hold it then I guess you’ll just have to piss all over the bed.”
Mrs. Jennings was about to cry but she opened her mouth and started sucking my cock again. I held her hair for a few more seconds before I let go. When I let go of her hair, Mrs. Jennings took her mouth off my cock and ran her hand up and down my shaft. She looked up at me.
“Can…can you put it in my butt later?” she asked in a demure childlike tone like a little girl asking her daddy for some candy. “It’s been a while since you did that to me.”
I chuckled. A little while was just a week prior. She sounded as if it had been months since I last fucked her in the ass.
“Be a good ghetto whore cocksucker and we’ll see,” I told her.
Mrs. Jennings smiled and went back to giving me a blow job. She never did have to go pee.
Ever since her game of playing a prostitute in the hotel room in St. Mary’s, Georgia, Mrs. Jennings had gotten into sexual role play. She was rather good at it and when I told her she was, she giggled and told me she was in the Drama Club in high school and college and had been in several plays in both high school and college. I sucked at it. I broke character too much. Mrs. Jennings would pout and have to keep reminding me to play along.
Her favorite roleplay scenario was anything to do with her being an older woman slave to a young white master. One time she even went as far as acting out being an older slave woman on a plantation and I was the young son of the plantation owner. Those roleplay times of her being a slave were a great deal of fun and she liked to be tied up and played with and fucked while being bound when she played the slave woman.
Not having any bondage stuff such as handcuffs or ropes or other bondage gear, I would use either her pantyhose or her thigh-high stockings she had started buying to wear for me. I liked using her husband’s neckties the most to bind her.
Two weeks later, Mrs. Jennings and I were driving to Savannah on a Wednesday morning. St. Patrick’s Day was going to be on the following Saturday and we planned on coming back home the next day. We would stay four nights in Savannah. We took her station wagon and I was driving.
Getting a hotel room was easy and I got it for a discounted rate. I worked at the Howard Johnson’s hotel in Macon and while it was owned through a franchise by a local businessman, the hotel chain always held rooms open for the employees of their hotels in other cities. Since I was eighteen then I was able to take advantage of the benefit. The hotel in Savannah had two rooms available, one with two beds and one with a king-size bed. I asked for the room with the one bed.
I had taken a nice amount of money out of my savings account. More than I would need I found out. I have never been a stingy person with money and spent it freely on girls I dated. Not to show off or because I dated materialistic girls who I thought I needed to spend money on to keep them from leaving me. Heck, I had girls and even older women who spent money on me and bought me things so I would not leave them. I just liked buying girls I was dating gifts.
When I was nineteen, a rich fifty-four-year-old lady paid me to fuck her for the two days she was staying at the motel I worked at. I just thought she was generously tipping me and I was fucking her because it was fun. It was not until she was leaving and I was helping her put her luggage in the car and she tipped me quite a bit of money that I realized I had prostituted myself. I told her it was too much money just to carry her luggage to the car. She kissed my cheek and told me it was not for helping, but because I had such a big cock and fucked her so good the two nights. That’s an honest-to-God true story I was thinking about writing about after I finish my Mrs. Jennings story.
That morning we left, Mrs. Jennings was wearing floral print capris pants, a pullover, a pink, short sleeve top, and sneakers on her feet. I was wearing khaki shorts and a tee shirt. The weather was nice. In the lower seventies and clear skies and would be for the rest of the week and even warmer in Savannah. The temperature was typical for that part of Georgia that time of year and then normally the last week of March we would get one last cold spell to come in.
It was only a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Savannah on I-16, an interstate that just ran from Macon to Savannah. At that time of our trip, I-16 was basically deserted and had very few exits off the interstate. Most of the exits were just off ramps to the smaller rural towns and state roads. It’s built up a little more now, but still almost deserted and not much traffic at all. The interstate was mainly built for a hurricane evacuation route from Savannah.
The drive was nice and Mrs. Jennings and I had nice conversations that were not about sex. She liked that a great deal and was all giddy about our trip and talked a great deal. She mostly talked about and asked questions about what I planned for my future. A couple of times she even said it was a shame she was married because if she was not we could take more trips like that. It was the first time she ever mentioned in any way she regretted being married. It freaked me out a little, and I just chuckled nervously and told her that would have been nice.
After about an hour and a half into the trip, she took a nap but was awake when we drove into the city. Due to the short trip, there was no need to stop for gas or bathroom breaks or lunch. We planned on eating lunch when we got to Savannah. When we got close to the city I saw a billboard advertisement that interested me a great deal and memorized the address on the billboard and thought it was going to be fun to visit and even purchase items from the business it advertised. The business was an adult store that sold adult videos and sex toys.
I had just turned eighteen and was able to enter the store. I also knew that Mrs. Jennings would be very embarrassed when I took her and made her go in and that turned me on. The store was off I-95 in Hinesville, Georgia, only about a ten-minute drive from Savannah.
When we got to Savannah we had time to go eat lunch before we could check into the motel; check-in was at four and we got to Savannah at about one. We ate at a local seafood restaurant, where there were many to choose from, and even after having to wait for a table due to the many tourists in town for St. Patrick’s Day celebration, we still had some time to kill. We did not have to check into our room at four or a little after and could have waited until later that evening, but I was horny and wanted to fuck Mrs. Jennings.
I was an eighteen-year-old male teen and I was always horny, but being able to not hide our relationship and being able to be in public with us as lovers made me more aroused. As we waited for our table, I was able to hold her hand, whisper dirty things in her ear to make her blush, and show other forms of public displays of affection. Mrs. Jennings would get tense and embarrassed by the people glancing at us and there were even some whispering between other patrons of the restaurant about us.
Seeing an older woman, especially a black older woman, being in an obvious intimate relationship with a white teenage boy was something people disapproved of and the looks and whispers embarrassed Mrs. Jennings. I, however, didn’t care and it just made me more affectionate with her and turned me on.
The public displays of affection were not anything offensive like making out with her or touching her in a manner that was inappropriate in public. I would just hold her hand, put my arm around her and pull her body close to mine, kiss her cheek or lightly on the lips, and whisper into her ear. The things I whispered were publicly inappropriate.
After we ate, it was still too early to check in, so I decided it would be a good time to take her shopping and buy her some new clothes for her to wear while in Savannah. I had that planned before we left Macon.
I knew the only clothes Mrs. Jennings had were rather conservative, including her casual clothes, and I wanted her to wear something more revealing while we were in Savannah. I was not going to buy her clothes or make her wear outfits that would embarrass even a street corner prostitute, but just something that would accentuate and bring attention to her ass and breasts. I asked the waitress for directions to some stores and she told me there were a mall and other shopping areas in East Savannah outside the Historical downtown area.
We went to the mall and I bought her some clothes at JC Penny’s. Two pairs of short denim shorts that were tight around her amble butt and one pair were so short that her butt cheeks hung out a little. One pair was blue denim and the shorter pair was black denim. I also bought her some low-cut tops that gave her big, black tits noticeable cleavage.
Mrs. Jennings whined and complained and told me she could not wear such clothes when I told her to try them on for me. I told her she would wear them because I wanted her to show off her body to others for me. Mrs. Jennings told me that the clothes were for young teenage girls and not an older woman like her and she would not only feel humiliated wearing such clothes but that she would feel ridiculous. She said that she would feel like some old woman who was trying to relive her youth and people would make fun of her behind her back and her body was not sexy enough to wear such clothes.
I told her I thought it was and that was what mattered and not what other people thought and I wanted her to wear them. Wanting to please me, Mrs. Jennings gave in and tried on the clothes and I bought them for her.
We walked through the mall and I held her hand or put my arm around her waist and put my hand into the back pocket of her capris pants to show everyone that Mrs. Jennings was my lover. I embarrassed her more when we stopped at Victoria’s Secret.
I had Mrs. Jennings try on some lingerie for me, her embarrassment of that was tenfold more than when I had her try on the clothes from Penny’s. I bought her a pink lingerie set that had a lace-up corset top, garters, and garter belt, matching pink thigh-high stockings, and sheer pink panties that didn’t cover much. I bought her several pairs of matching sexy panties and bras. The store had set up a specials section for St. Patrick’s Day lingerie. I found Mrs. Jennings a green pair of thong panties and matching bra with shamrocks printed on them and a pair of green-tinted fishnet thigh-high stockings with shamrocks printed on them. As I was handing Mrs. Jennings the items I thought she was going to faint from embarrassment. Just when I thought that was enough I saw out of the corner of my eye something else for Mrs. Jennings. It was a green-tinted, fishnet style leotard or body suit I think they are called. It had two large shamrocks over the nipples, but other than that the rest of the body suit was sheer material. I got that for Mrs. Jennings also.
When I went to pay for the items, Mrs. Jennings told me she wanted to wait outside the store and I knew it was because she was embarrassed in front of the young, pretty sales clerk. I told Mrs. Jennings no and when the sales clerk rang up the items she gave me and Mrs. Jennings a look of either disbelief or maybe disgust
We went into another anchor store on the opposite side of the mall, Dillard’s. There I bought her one more pair of short, tight denim shorts. That pair was a stone-washed, faded blue color and made to look like cutoff shorts. Chrome studs were outlining the back pockets. When Mrs. Jennings came out of the dressing room she again whined about how short and tight the shorts were and about the fact she was too old to be wearing clothes made for teenage girls. I told her she would wear them, and if she refused, I brought her husband’s paddle on the trip.
“Yes, Patrick,” she told me.
She said those words that day like other times she said them, like she was saying, “Yes, sir”, or the way she said, “Yes, Master” when we played her sexual roleplay games she enjoyed playing.
When she went back into the dressing room I sighed in relief. I was glad she believed my bluff. I did bring the paddle but I was not going to use it on her for refusing to wear a pair of shorts I bought her. As I said, I am not a sadist.
After our shopping trip, we drove to the motel and checked in. Mrs. Jennings wanted to stay in the car, but I made her come into the lobby with me and once again made it quite clear we were lovers to the desk clerk by my shows of affection.
Once in the room, I fucked Mrs. Jennings before we even unpacked. We were both so horny that we skipped any foreplay and just fucked hard. We were both aroused by the humiliation I put her through that afternoon. We didn’t even bother getting fully undressed. As soon as I carried our luggage into the room – yes I carried hers like a good gentleman – we started kissing with intense lust, and she unbuttoned my shorts while I pulled her pants down, and then we fell on the bed and fucked. It was over quickly, but we both had powerful orgasms. We were going to be staying in Savannah for four nights, so we knew there was going to be plenty of time for me to play with her and do dirty, perverted things to her body.
After we had sex, Mrs. Jennings wanted to take a shower and freshen up before we went out to explore the city and to dinner. After she got out of the shower, Mrs. Jennings unpacked her luggage. Unlike me, she was organized and liked to be neat. She placed her clothes in drawers neatly and orderly. I would just live out of the one duffel bag I packed my clothes into. While she was unpacking, she was wearing just a short, red, satin robe she had purchased for the trip. Watching her aroused me again.
I walked behind her, started kissing her neck, opened her robe, and started fondling her nipples. Mrs. Jennings whined out that she just got out of the shower and I should wait until we got back into the room later that night. I told her I wanted her fat pussy now. She whined and promised me if I waited, she would make sure I would not regret it. I pinched her nipples hard and told her that she was such a whore for me that she never failed to make me regret it. I pulled her to the bed and fucked her from behind. After I fucked her and came in her pussy, I told her I liked the thought of her having to walk around the rest of the night with my cum inside her.
I won’t go into detail about every day and night of our trip; it would take too long. During the day we did tourist things, Savanah is a tourist city even when not during its St. Patrick’s Day celebration. We saw the parades, used the On/Off Trolley Tours, walked the Historical Downtown District, River Street, the famous Savannah Squares, and other tourist things. We went on two Ghost Tours. The second ghost tour we did was a midnight ghost tour of Bonaventure Cemetery. During that tour, Mrs. Jennings pulled me away from the group to a more discreet location, got on her knees, and gave me a blow job as I was leaning back against a headstone. I had Mrs. Jennings wear her new short, tight denim shorts and low-cut tops and new panties and bras as we toured the city.
At night in the motel room, we had sex every night. The first three nights the sex was very intimate and passionate and intense lovemaking. We would lay in bed and there was a lot of foreplay every time before we had sex. Even the foreplay was sensual and intimate. After we had sex we would cuddle and talk and then start over again with the passionate foreplay and fuck again. The last night we stayed in Savannah was on St. Patrick’s Day the sex we had that night was far from making love.
It was passionate and intense but a night of debauchery as well as degrading and humiliating and painful for Mrs. Jennings. She deserved the pain and she loved the degradation and humiliation.
The day started perfectly before we even left the hotel room. Mrs. Jennings got up and took a shower first. I took mine after she did and when I got out of the shower she was sitting on the bed wearing just her robe. She had already put her makeup on and styled her hair while I was in the shower.
“Better get dressed,” I told her.
“You haven’t told me what to wear yet,” she replied.
I chuckled at her being so accepting of me telling her what to wear that she waited for me to tell her. I told her the jean shorts that were stonewashed that we got at Dillard’s. Since it was St. Patrick’s Day I had bought us some souvenir tee shirts to wear that day. Both hers and mine were green and had a logo on the front to reflect St. Patrick’s Day in Savannah. They weren’t matching. Mrs. Jennings was V cut to show her cleavage. I normally prefer my tee-shirts loose fitting, but when I bought the tee-shirts from a street vendor Mrs. Jennings wanted me to buy a tight-fitting one to show off my muscular frame.
“If you are going to make me flaunt my body to every Tom, Dick, and Harry, the least you could do is show yours off to every Jane, Mary, and Suzie to let them know who I am having sex with,” she had said giggling.
Each day when I had her wear her new shorts, she would complain about how short they were and how tight they were. Once she had them on she would admire her butt in the mirror, however, and tell me they were comfortable. I knew she would never admit it, but she got turned on from men looking at her protruding, bubbled-out, black ass in the tight-fitting shorts. I knew that because each night when we got back to the motel room, she was horny and all over me and begging for me to fuck her.
We would come back and change clothes before we went to the festivities on River Street that night. We used the Trolley to go to and from the parade. There was a pickup and drop-off less than a block from the motel we stayed at. After we got back to the motel parking lot we didn’t go into the room but got in my car.
“Where are we going?” Mrs. Jennings asked once I pulled out of the motel parking lot.
“A surprise,” I answered and that was good enough for her and she didn’t ask me again.
I remembered the exit number off the interstate where the adult store was and it took us less than ten minutes to get there. The store was right off the interstate and there was a large sign advertising it that could be seen before you even got to the exit.
“Patrick, please don’t tell me we are going where I think we are going,” Mrs. Jennings said as I drove onto the exit.
“Where do you think we are going?” I teased.
“I am not going in there,” she told me defiantly.
I chuckled, “Yes you are. We both are.”
Mrs. Jennings folded her arms over her chest and did not say a word as I pulled into the store’s parking lot. I parked and turned off the engine and looked at her.
“I am not happy about this,” she told me and opened her door and got out.
The adult store was advertised as a super store and it was larger than I thought it would be. I had never been to an adult store and did not know what to expect. I expected it to be dark inside and perverted men walking around in trench coats trying to hide from being seen in such a store and maybe men going and coming from a back room to and from rooms with glory holes. It was nothing like that at all. I did have to show my picture ID to the male employee at the store’s entrance. He didn’t ask for Mrs. Jennings’.
It was well lit and the men in the store were just normal-looking men. The only women in the store were Mrs. Jennings and the heavily tattooed clerk behind the register. They also sold more items than I thought they would have. Besides sex toys and videos, the store sold fetish-style clothes and lingerie and leather outfits, and tee shirts. There was bondage gear and a few sex machines of various kinds and even a costume section for both men and women. I thought the store was cool. Mrs. Jennings didn’t. She clung to me as if she was afraid someone was going to jump out and grab her and sell her into sexual slavery.
Mrs. Jennings did attract several looks from the men. They looked at her ass in her short, tight shorts and her large breasts hidden beneath her tee shirt that was tucked into her shorts and pulled tight across her chest.
I was like a kid in a candy store and wanted to look at everything. I would pick up various sex toys and show them to Mrs. Jennings and tell her how fun they would be to use on her, or how much fun she could have using them on herself when alone. As I showed her the toys and talked to her, I was purposely talking louder than I need to so others in the store could hear me. I wanted to be heard to embarrass her. The times Mrs. Jennings would reply to my comments or questions about if she liked a certain toy it was in a whisper.
I bought several items in the store but could have spent all my money there. Two anal plugs that were identical in every way but the size, one was larger than the other. Both were made of stainless steel. I bought an eight-inch dildo that looked like a white cock. It was made of hard latex and stiff as a board. I bought a black leather slave collar that buckled in the back and had an O-shaped ring in the front. I bought a black leather leash to go with it.
As I would put the items in the hand-held shopping basket, I would tell Mrs. Jennings how much fun they were going to be to use on her and even went into detail about how I was going to use them. Again I spoke louder than I need to. Mrs. Jennings looked as if she was going to cry from embarrassment.
Next, I led her to the clothing items and picked out a black, leather mini skirt, and made her try it on. Yes, made her because she did not want to try it on or have me buy it for her. The skirt fit tight around her ass and then flared out at the hem. Attached to the hem were black leather fringes about an inch wide. The skirt had a silver buckle in the front. It was short and with the fringes, that would part and show more of her upper thighs and even a hint of her ass cheeks when she walked, came down just barely enough to make it decent to wear in public. Mrs. Jennings again almost start crying from humiliation when I told her to model it for me in the view of the other patrons in the store.
“What is a good lubricant to use for anal sex?” I asked the young woman behind the register.
Mrs. Jennings was standing next to me clutching my arm. When I asked the question she dug her nails into my flesh and blushed deeply and looked at her feet.
The clerk was very pretty if you liked her type. She had tattoos all up her arms and a nose ring and her eyebrow was pierced and each ear had several piercings in each. Her hair was cut into a pixie-style haircut and dyed pink. She was very thin. While that was not my type, I thought she was very cute and had a great personality. I would have fucked her, but of course, I was an eighteen-year-old boy and would have fucked almost any female. I was fucking Mrs. Jennings and she was not the prettiest woman out there. I noticed the woman was wearing a wedding band.
“Depends on what type y’all prefer,” the woman answered calmly. “Let me show you some of the better types we have.”
She walked to the other end of the counter to a display of various lubricant brands and we followed. She picked up one brand.
“A lot of women who come in here like this one. It has a numbing agent in it to desensitize the feeling if they find anal sex a little painful,” the clerk explained unfazed by the conversation. “Or if her partner is well endowed.”
“I don’t think I am too big for her,” I told the clerk and then looked at Mrs. Jennings. “Am I?”
Mrs. Jennings, still looking at her feet, shook her head.
I laughed. “Damn, insult my manhood,” I teased my older, black lover.
Mrs. Jennings looked up at me, “I didn’t mean it like that,” she whined. “Stop teasing me. You know you are big down there.”
“Oh?” the sales clerk said.
Mrs. Jennings held up her hands and spaced them apart and then put her fingers together and made a large circle.
“Oh my,” the young woman replied to the gestures as she looked at my face and then adverted her eyes to my crotch. “Maybe a lubricant with a desensitizing agent would be best.”
I put my arm around Mrs. Jennings, “No, she enjoys the feel of my cock deep in her ass and how it stretches her so she won’t like the numbing type.” I did sound arrogant and proud of the size of my cock.
“Yeah, I am the same way,” the young woman smiled at Mrs. Jennings, who just stood there blushing and too stunned by my comment to even nod her head. “Why spoil such an amazing feeling, right?”
The conversation about the lubricant and the size of my penis was so normal sounding. Like we were sitting down and having a conversation about the weather over a cup of coffee. Well, at least for me and the sales clerk. Mrs. Jennings looked completely horrified by the conversation. I was surprised she made her hand gestures to show how large I was.
She picked up another one, “This one is the one my boyfriend and I use. It’s cherry flavor but comes in strawberry also. I like cherry.”
“Cherry or strawberry?” I asked Mrs. Jennings.
The older woman was looking at her feet and muttered something I could not hear.
“What?” I asked.
“Strawberry. I don’t like the taste of cherry-flavored things,” Mrs. Jennings said louder.
“Three bottles of the strawberry I think,” I told the clerk. “We are from Macon so we don’t get down here and I think three bottles will last us for a while.” I kissed Mrs. Jennings on the top of her head. “Do you think three will be enough? Or should we get another bottle because you like anal sex so much and we are going to buy the butt plugs and you may want to use them when you are alone?” I asked Mrs. Jennings.
Mrs. Jennings stood on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear.
“Four bottles,” I told the sales clerk and smiled. “Told you, she likes it in the ass.”
The clerk giggled and picked up four bottles of the strawberry-flavored lubricant.
As she rang up the two anal plugs, the store employee smiled. “Good choice. These are made of surgical steel and are very hygienic,” she told us. “They can be cold at first so if that bothers you I would recommend warming them up in your mouth first.”
After she rang up the anal plugs, Mrs. Jennings quickly put a small plastic package on the counter. It was a small vibrator used to stimulate the clit. The sales clerk picked it up and frowned.
“You won’t like this one as much as some of the others,” she told Mrs. Jennings. “Let me get you a better one you will enjoy more.”
The young woman walked around the counter and to the area of the store where the vibrators were displayed. I looked at Mrs. Jennings and raised my eyebrow. I did not even know she had picked up the vibrator. I was having too much fun picking out other items and embarrassing Mrs. Jennings to notice she had it.
Mrs. Jennings was looking at me and blushing again. “Don’t. Not a word, please, baby,” she begged me.
“I think that’s sexy, and if you want it and feel you need it to take care of yourself, I am not going to say anything,” I assured her. “Why did you show her how big my dick was?” I asked out of curiosity.
Mrs. Jennings smiled, “Because I don’t like the way the tattooed slut is looking at you, and I wanted her to know what I had and she didn’t have.”
I chuckled and kissed Mrs. Jennings’s cheek. “I think she is looking at both of us that way. I saw how she looked at your ass in those whore shorts you have on.”
“You made me wear them,” Mrs. Jennings whined out. “Her looking at me is…”
The sales clerk came back with another small vibrator before Mrs. Jennings could finish what she started to say. She explained to the older black woman that the one she recommended had varying speeds and a high setting that was very intense and felt incredible.
“You are going to have to find a good hiding place for these when we get back home,” I told Mrs. Jennings as I paid for the items. “Having your husband find them would result in a conversation I don’t think you want to have.”
“Patrick!” Mrs. Jennings cried out.
Other people in the store looked our way. Mrs. Jennings did not mean to shout out my name.
“Don’t worry, honey,” the clerk told Mrs. Jennings. “You are not the first married woman to have something on the side.” The young woman looked me up and down, “No shame in it, especially with such a hot guy you have.” She looked back at Mrs. Jennings. “I cuckold my husband all the time with my boyfriend.” She grinned at both of us. “But I’m lucky, my husband gets off on watching so I don’t have to sneak around.”
The young woman handed me my changed and as she put the bills in my hand she ran her fingers over my hand in a caressing manner. “If the two of you are in town for a while, I could give you my number or you can call the store and ask for me. My name is Cynthia,” she told me but was looking at Mrs. Jennings. “I think the three of us could have some fun together or I could bring my boyfriend also,” she suggested to us. “We don’t mind sharing.”
Mrs. Jennings snatched up the bag containing our purchases. “I do!” She then walked toward the exit of the store.
“We are leaving tomorrow, sorry,” I told the girl.
She frowned. “I didn’t mean to offend her, but I had to try. You are just too damn hot not to and I like older women also.” She then smiled, “If you are ever back this way by yourself, stop in the store. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
I grinned, “I just may.” I then walked quickly out of the store to catch Mrs. Jennings.
If I ever had gotten back to Savanah when I was younger, I would have stopped by the store. I liked Cynthia. She seemed a great deal of fun.
Mrs. Jennings was sitting in the car waiting for me. She was sitting up straight and stiff with her arms folded over her chest.
“The nerve of that slut,” she said when I got in the car. “And to assume I was a…a lesbian!”
“I think it’s bi-sexual not a lesbian,” I teased and chuckled.
Mrs. Jennings turned her body to face me. “You would have liked that, wouldn’t you? To have her and me at the same time and watch us do revolting things together?” she asked in an angry tone.
“Well she did offer to bring her boyfriend,” I replied calmly. I was amused by Mrs. Jennings’s jealousy. “I bet he would like that fat, black pussy. And you are the one who showed her how big my dick was when she was showing us the lube. Maybe she thought you wanted to see if she could take a large cock in her ass as well as you do.”
“You’re just as disgusting as she was,” she told me as she fastened her seat belt.
I laughed as I started the car. I found her sassiness when she got jealous humorous at times.
Mrs. Jennings did not say a word as we drove back to the motel. She did not even look at me. It was hard to refrain from laughing at her jealousy and teasing her more.
When we got into the motel room, I placed the bag with our purchases on the bed and was going to take them out of the bag to give them a closer look. I made a small flinch when I felt Mrs. Jennings’s hands on my upper thighs. She had walked behind me so quietly and her hands touched me so suddenly it was as if she transported herself behind me using magic. I looked down and watched as she slid her hands over my thighs and to my crotch. I turned around.
Without saying anything and not looking at my face, Mrs. Jennings got on her knees and knelt in front of me. She unbuckled my belt, pulled my shorts down to my ankles, and then my underwear followed.
“Because of me or her?” Mrs. Jennings asked as she took my erect cock in her hand and looked up at me.
“You,” I told her honestly. Well, maybe it was only a half-truth.
I had an erection since we walked into the adult store. I was hard because of being in the store and seeing all the products they sold. I was hard because of Mrs. Jennings’s reactions of humiliation and shame of being inside the adult store. I was hard because of seeing her try on and modeling the leather miniskirt I bought her. I was hard because of seeing how the men in the store looked at her. I was hard because of the conversation we had with the sales clerk. I was hard even because of her jealousy and her giving me the cold shoulder in the car.
“Liar”, she told me. The tone of her voice sounded as if she was still angry with me.
Mrs. Jennings parted her lips, moved her head, took my cock in her mouth, and proceeded to give me a blow job. She sucked and stroked my cock at a fast and hard pace. Mrs. Jennings did not do as she normally did when she gave me a blow job, teasing me with her tongue, starting slowly to savor the feeling of my large cock in her mouth or suck me in her normally sensual manner. She sucked my cock without intimacy as if she was doing it unwillingly and just wanted to get it over quickly. When I placed a hand on the back of her head, Mrs. Jennings reached up and removed it and I put it back to my side.
I didn’t last long. I was horny and had been aroused for a long time and I came quickly into her mouth. Mrs. Jennings swallowed all of my cum and kept sucking and stroking my cock until there was nothing left to give her. When she was finished, Mrs. Jennings stood up, wiped her mouth, and looked at my crotch.
“God, you are still hard thinking about that filthy, pink-haired, white slut,” she told me. Again, the tone in her voice was one of anger.
I was still aroused and my cock was still hard and I didn’t say anything. I had seen Mrs. Jennings angry, pouty, and upset to the point of tears over her jealousy of me, but I had never seen her that angry before. I was amused and curious to see what she was going to do next.
Mrs. Jennings placed her hands on my chest and gave me a slight shove and I sat down on the edge of the bed. I watched as she unbuttoned her jean shorts, pulled them off her body without even removing her tennis shoes, and doing the same with her new shamrock panties. She walked to me, straddled me, and pushed me to lie on the bed.
Without saying anything or kissing me, Mrs. Jennings reached behind her and took my cock in her hand and guided it to her pussy and lowered her ass for me to penetrate her. Her pussy felt drenched with her sex fluids. When I was inside her, Mrs. Jennings leaned forward and I was expecting her to kiss me, but she didn’t.
“Is this what you wanted her to give you?” Mrs. Jennings asked. “Did you want that skinny whore to give you her nasty, white pussy?” Mrs. Jennings was looking me in the eyes as she asked her questions and when I tried to kiss her she pulled her head back.
She was angry and jealous I was flirting with the sales clerk, that was obvious, but Mrs. Jennings could have just given me the cold shoulder the rest of the late afternoon and pouted and complained as she normally did. There was a reason why, in her anger, she sucked my cock and then fucked me; she was just as horny as I was if not more so. Her sexual arousal overpowered her anger and her jealousy over the sales clerk and the things the white girl hinted about and even boldly asked increased Mrs. Jennings’s arousal as it did mine.
I never knew if Mrs. Jennings realized that I knew early on in our affair just how much me humiliating and degrading her turned her on. I don’t think she ever knew and I never told her; I just acted on it. I let her have her dirty little secret she thought she hid from me. It would have not been as much fun to humiliate her and degrade her if she realized I knew how much it turned her on. It would have felt fake and play-acting.
Her sexual arousal from my humiliation and degradation of her aroused her much more than when I was intimate, passionate, and affectionate with her when we made love. She enjoyed both a great deal and both sexually satisfied her. Mrs. Jennings desired and asked and sometimes begged for me to act loving and to cherish her and to make intense, passionate love to her. The older black woman immensely enjoyed the intimate times we would cuddle and I would show her a great deal of affection and romance. However, it was the times when I was rough with her, punished her, dominated her, humiliated, and degraded her that she got off on the most. While Mrs. Jennings desired both sides of me, if she was forced to pick only one side she would have picked the domination side.
Mrs. Jennings’s humiliation had started as soon as we left the motel room to go to the parade and so did her sexual arousal. It started when I made her wear the short, tight, jean shorts that accentuated her butt and when I made her wear her V-neck tee-shirt that showed her cleavage. At the parade, she was embarrassed by the men who looked at her butt and breasts. She was far from the most attractive woman at the parade and there were even women her age or older who were more attractive than Mrs. Jennings. However, men still looked at her butt in her tight shorts and her cleavage. I pointed it out to her several times to purposely embarrass her, but there was no need. She knew and while it humiliated her it also turned her on. Then of course there was our shopping trip to the adult store and the conversation I had with the sales clerk and the sales clerk’s comments to us. That made Mrs. Jennings feel degraded, but it aroused her. Even the sales clerk’s comments about her and her boyfriend joining us aroused Mrs. Jennings.
“No,” I told her.
“Fucking liar,” she replied.
She was angry, but she was also horny and wanted to cum. I honestly thought for just a moment that if there was another man in the room beside me, Mrs. Jennings would have fucked the other man instead of me. That’s how angry she was with me and how strong her desire to orgasm was. She was not mad that I humiliated her, but that I was flirting with the sales clerk in front of her.
Mrs. Jennings sat up and put her feet flat on the bed and started to fuck me. I think that was the first time since I first fucked her that Mrs. Jennings did not care if I enjoyed the sex or not. Her priority was getting herself off and not me. She fucked me hard and fast and when I reached up to grab her breasts she pushed my hands away from her. Well, damn, she is using me and she must be pissed, I thought. I found it humorous and surprising.
It only took Mrs. Jennings about three or four minutes be she had her orgasm. After she finished cumming and caught her breath, the older woman didn’t lay on top of me for me to hold her or cuddle like she normally did. Instead, she got off of me, stood up, kicked off her shoes, and put her panties on.
“I need to call Richard now,” she told me.
At first, I was amused and found her jealous anger entertaining, but now I was angry with her. She fucked me to get herself off, got off of me without letting me orgasm, and stood next to the bed waiting for me to get dressed and leave the room so she could make her call. My humor with her jealousy and anger was over. Mrs. Jennings needed to be reminded of a few things.
The last month or so she had started to get more emotionally attached to me, or at least that’s how it felt based on some of her actions when we were together. She had always been jealous but her jealousy was getting worse, she was getting needy of my time and wanted to constantly see me when we could. Yes, I still had that unhealthy obsession for her and always wanted to fuck her and she had the same for me, but her desire to see me somehow felt different.
When I first started going over to her house, she would do all the things a woman who was subservient to the man she was intimate with would do. Cook for me, wash my clothes, submit to my kinky, taboo sexual desires, etc. But lately, it was more like, well to be blunt, she treated me like I was her husband and had replaced Mr. Jennings in that regard. Even her acceptance of her punishment from me seemed different. I can’t explain it well, but I could tell it was different. Once when I fabricated a reason to punish her just so I could spank her and told her she would be punished, Mrs. Jennings went into her room and came out holding one of her husband’s leather belts in her hand. With tears running down her cheeks as she anticipated the pain of being spanked, she handed me the belt, pulled down her pants and panties, and bent over the kitchen counter to await her punishment. All I told her was that I have to punish her and she did the rest of her own will.
Then there was when she started telling me about doing sexual acts with her husband. That started after he came home from Christmas break. She would tell me the times they had sex or the times he could not get an erection or was just semi-erect and how he had her jerk him off to orgasm. She was not telling me to make me jealous, but it was a confession for her. She would beg and even a few times cried when she pleaded for me to forgive her and told me she had no choice; it was her wifely duty. I didn’t care who she was fucking as long as I got to fuck her. I would spank her and she wanted me to punish her. Not because she enjoyed the pain but because she wanted to show me that even though Mr. Jennings was her husband, she was more submissive to me.
Mrs. Jennings’s needed a reminder of who was in charge, she needed to be reminded she was just a whore to me, and she needed a reminder she did not own her pussy but I did.
