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  • Would Like To Meet. No Strings Ch. 10

Would Like To Meet. No Strings Ch. 10

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This is the final episode. Hope you like it. I wanted to portray Joan acting just to a limited extent like a slut without really being or becoming one, and to leave the series with her determination not to push the boundaries quite so far again.

And, given that, I think any further chapters would be something of an anticlimax...

If you haven't read the other chapters and wish to, most are in Mature though one is in Voyeur and one in Toys/Masturbation.

_________________________

Laurence awoke to the feel of Joan's hand stroking his shaft and squeezing it gently. He sighed and opened his eyes, letting them rove over her naked, mature, but sexy body. Her slightly saggy breasts rocked arousingly with the movement of her hands.

He rolled onto his side and they embraced, their mouths seeking each other. Joan swung one leg over his thigh and hip and led his hand to her fleshy bum cheek. They kissed slowly and sensually, then she drew his face to her breasts. She crooned as he tugged on her nipples with his lips and pressed his face against her deliciously yielding orbs. At the same time he squeezed and rolled her buttock.

Joan whimpered with pleasure. She ran her hand over his chubby stomach and over his broad back. She let out a low moan as his tongue circled round her nipple and licked it, alternating between light, teasing moves and harder rasping ones, pressing it flat and then releasing it.

Laurence's heart was beating quicker as the climax of his night -- his "no-strings" night --with Joan drew near. He was genuinely nervous, yet the prospect of pushing the boundaries further -- and of witnessing her doing the same -- was extremely exciting.

Joan pulled gently away. It was the sign that the time had now come.

Laurence stepped to the window and closed the curtains. Joan had left them open all night, partly to allow the room to be lit with a low and subtle light, and partly for the fun, however unlikely, and however faintly, of being seen from outside in the dim light.

He walked to the wardrobe and took his clean clothes to the bathroom. Like Joan, he felt ill at ease to be naked in her presence after sex. He stepped coyly to the en-suite bathroom. There was little time for a shower but he washed thoroughly in the washbasin and brushed his teeth, then dressed.

They exchanged places. Laurence sat on the armchair and pretended to browse through the previous day's newspaper while Joan stole into the bathroom. She did not let on, but she, too, was feeling nervous about the grand finale that she had planned and suggested in advance to her two lovers.

Laurence heard the shower running and closed his eyes. He tried to imagine the water streaming down her slightly plump body, and he conjured up an image of her rubbing the shower gel over herself -- with soft, self-indulgent movements, perhaps, lingering longer on her fabulous breasts than was necessary -- and stroking her puffy labia as the hot water lubricated them.

The shower stopped. Laurence's blood was pounding in his ears. It was time.

He walked to the bedroom door and made sure that the latch was off so that he could get back in again. He forced himself to walk slowly and casually along the corridor to David's room and checked the room number three times before knocking twice. He waited for a few moments and was about to knock again when he heard a low voice from right behind the door call "Okay. Thanks".

Laurence retreated to the double room and found Joan sitting with a towel tucked around her at the dressing table, drying and brushing her hair. She smiled reassuringly. He tried to smile back confidently as he went back into the bathroom. He kicked off his shoes, tugged off his socks and stood with the door partly open.

It was to be his vantage point from where he would watch. He had witnessed sex on porn movies of course. But this was different. He was soon to watch Joan having sex with her other (and younger) lover. The scenario to be acted out was that Laurence was to watch his wife -- in fact, his bride -- being taken by another young man, a near-stranger. He felt curious, excited, embarrassed, dirty -- and nervous.

The alleged reason was that Laurence could not manage to keep his end up. Although he in fact had no such problem, he hoped that his growing nervousness did not cause that to happen in reality.

There was a get-out clause that Joan had put to him when explaining her idea. If he wanted, she stressed, Laurence could remain watching throughout the entire procedure. If he did, she promised, she would attend to him privately after David had left. He had agreed to give it a try.

He now watched Joan's reflection in the mirror in anticipation as she applied her make-up well but subtly. He felt a shudder run down his spine as he thought of her behaviour, so at odds with her pleasant, otherwise ladylike and respectable manner. He felt a twinge of sadness that her ex-husband's cheating had driven her to all this, but he caught her saucy smile at him in the mirror. As she smiled she tugged down the top of the bath towel that covered her breasts, and flashed them at him in the mirror.

He grinned back. He also gave his rising erection a very overt rub through his trousers. She grinned back at him.

Joan walked over to the wardrobe. Laurence stared longingly at the backs of her thighs and bum cheeks, and watched as she put on the white corset. Her bum cheeks quivered alluringly as she fastened and adjusted it. She stooped forward to pick up her discarded white stockings and bridal headdress and veil, and walked to the bed.

She shot a brief, coquettish smile to him, and he returned it. Now that she was getting back into a sexual mode her coyness about being exposed to him had dissipated again. Fleetingly it occurred strange to her again that they both felt so self-conscious about being naked apart from when having sex.

He was aware that he was supposedly in hiding and stifled a gasp. Her breasts hung over the top of her corset, and swayed deliciously as she moved. Her nipples were flat, big and round. She was wearing no panties and the inverted U-shape of the bottom of her corset drew his eye to her dark, close-trimmed pubes that she had cropped into a heart shape especially for the occasion. His gaze rested fleetingly on her crinkled pussy lips before she sat down on the edge of the bed with her back to him.

Laurence gazed at her back, the white fabric of the corset contrasting appealingly with her skin, and his gaze followed the curves of her body that her corset accentuated.

Joan was facing the mirror, however, and although their eyes briefly met in the reflection, neither acknowledged the other, going along with the scenario of Laurence watching her undetected. He saw her blush, though, and noted the smile on her face that evidenced her naughty enjoyment.

She took one shiny white stocking and gently rolled it so that she could slide it over her foot. Laurence had to stifle another gasp, thrilled to be the voyeur, allegedly unnoticed. He stared as she stretched out her left leg. To Laurence it was neither skinny nor fat, just perfectly fleshy.

Joan pointed her toes and slid her foot into her stocking. Her naked C-cup breasts surged a little as she leaned forward to ease her stocking slowly -- and erotically -- up her leg. He gazed, spellbound, watching the thin filmy nylon slide slowly up her calf then to her knee, watching her slightly swarthy skin being covered by the sheer, shiny whiteness as she slid it up. She wiggled her foot a little. He stared as she did so. He did not consider himself to have a "thing" about feet, but the movement she gave seemed strangely erotic. So did the way she ran her hand up and down her white-stockinged leg, as if checking that the nylon was properly in place and appropriately smoothed out.

Through his trousers Laurence tugged on his erection slowly but firmly as she adjusted the top of her white stocking and clipped the suspenders of her corset to it.

It was almost an agony to remain where he was as she repeated the whole process with her other stocking. Then, to his delight, she stood up and turned slowly round to examine her reflection. His eager gaze ran over every inch of her, taking in her soft looking skin, the white satin of her corset, her white suspenders, and the white shiny nylon of her stockings. Again his gaze was drawn to her heart-shaped bush, the bottom tip of it pointing to her hood.

She turned around once more, and again he watched her breasts quiver enticingly over the top of her corset. She picked up the bridal headdress from the bed and placed it on her head. Its white band and the thin, gauzy mesh of the veil were in stark contrast to her short, dark hair.

She adjusted it slightly in the mirror, smiled approvingly to herself, and stepped to the telephone for room service. Again she had her back to Laurence and it was obvious that her finger was pressed down over the receiver as she lifted the handset, but pretending to ring for room service was a juicy detail that had occurred to her. She had planned out many of the details that she had included in the several role plays that she and her two lovers had indulged in, and she savoured the realism that they added. Laurence feasted his eyes on the soft skin of her back and shoulders and on her bum cheeks and stockinged legs.

"Hello. Room Service?" she asked softly, then paused as if a reply was being given.

"Yes," she continued, as if in a real conversation. "Yes that's my room number. I... I wonder... my husband has gone out for a stroll and to collect a newspaper from the lounge, and I've just been in the bathroom and..."

Laurence thrilled in the sound of her voice, which now became a little strained.

"There's a spider," she continued in her imaginary conversation. "In the shower tray. I... I know it's stupid, but I have a phobia about them. Could... could you send someone along to... oh thank you so much, as I say, I feel really stupid... You sure? Would... would that young man David be able to do it, if he's still on duty? It's just that he moved a spider last night and he was so kind, he didn't smirk or make me feel pathetic.... he is? Yes, if he didn't mind... thanks ever so much -- and sorry to make such a fuss, again... bye then..."

Laurence smiled at the performance she had given. He saw her glance at her watch. An approximate time delay had already been fixed between Laurence knocking on David's door and his arrival. It was a nice touch that he was to play at attending in a room service capacity.

Laurence watched Joan recline on the bed with her back against the headboard. To his absolute delight -- and his erection gave a slow salute of approval -- she reached up and pulled her bridal veil down to cover her face.

Laurence had never seen a sight so erotically charged and so anomalous. The woman he was peeping at, both around the door and in the large mirror of the dressing table was well in her forties, mature and sexually experienced, yet dressed in white. The vestal whiteness of her clothing, though, was at complete odds with its provocative nature -- nothing but a white corset with suspenders and stockings. Her bush had been trimmed into a romantic heart shape yet, despite pretending to be Laurence's bride, she was playing at cuckolding him as she awaited a lover.

The most delicious touch of all, though, was the veiling of her face. Her slightly pendulous breasts were bared and hung down over the top of the corset. She was wearing no panties and her crotch was completely bared, with her trimmed bush and puffy lips exposed. Yet her face was veiled, a total sham of modesty, decency and virtue. It was outrageously wanton -- and outrageously delicious.

Joan, of course, likewise basked in the delight that her reflection in the mirror gave her. She felt a little surge between her thighs. She glanced at her watch. About four and a half minutes remained before that half-longed for yet half-dreaded knock would come on the door to her room to signal David's arrival.

A twinge of apprehension and self-doubt came over her as she questioned whether she was pushing the boundaries too far. She wondered whether she would shock David or Laurence to the point of alienation and loss of all respect for her, or whether this -- which she intended to be a self-liberating, hedonistic one-off -- would whet their appetite for more of the same. She could not decide which would be the worse outcome, but hoped that in fact they would simply accept it and enjoy the moment for what it was.

She tried to push her doubts to the back of her mind and to focus instead on the time that lay ahead. She smiled to herself and tried to reassure herself. She knew deep down, too, that this heady cocktail of excitement, shame, nervousness and guilt were an integral part of the intensity of her pleasure.

She bent one knee, drawing it up toward her chin. She slowly stretched her leg and tucked it up again. Laurence heard the soft sound of her stockinged leg against the bedcover and watched the sensual movement of her leg on its teasing, repeated journey. His eyes were inexorably drawn to her breasts once more, and he noted that her nipples were firmer and tauter now. Then she began to move her pelvis in subtle, inviting, circular movements.

It was indeed subtle rather than wanton, but it was nevertheless very suggestive and arousing.

Joan began to trace her fingers slowly up and down the cleft of her breasts. At first she did it purely subconsciously out of nerves, then realised that to Laurence it probably seemed deliberate and arousing, and recalled his earlier thrill in her self-pleasuring. She touched herself more deliberately for his benefit. She thought too of the imminent arrival of David, and decided to greet him with the sight of her touching her breasts, too. She fixed her gaze on the door. Her heart was beginning to race as the moments went by.

_________________________

After Laurence had knocked on his door, David, too, had looked nervously at his watch. He took a quick shower and dressed in smart casuals. He was anxious not to arrive at his companions' room too early and spoil things, and in the event he forced himself to arrive a few minutes after the time they had arranged. Apart form anything else, he told himself, a slight delay would build the anticipation and sexual tension -- for all three of them.

He dismissed any slight feelings of jealousy, reminding himself that Joan had shared her time with both him and Laurence pretty evenly. Besides, the three of them could hardly have shared one room (nor would they have wanted to!), and for discretion it made obvious sense for Joan and Laurence to share one, and for him, David, to have a single room. To all intents and purposes they appeared to be a family -- mother, father and son. The contrast between the sordid reality and the acted pretence was very appealing.

David smiled as in his mind he dwelt on the reality -- a woman who had placed a personal ad for "no strings adult fun" and ended up with two lovers, one a little older than she was and the other turning out to be himself -- half her age and, as it had transpired, her former neighbour. That very night she had flitted between the two bedrooms and shared her favours with each of them. And now the grand finale was approaching. He smiled to himself at the imagery -- he certainly hoped that there would be at least one encore.

It was still about half an hour before breakfast would be served and there was nobody about as he left his room and headed the few yards to the room that Joan and Laurence were sharing.

He knocked on the door and went straight in. He had been in the room already, but he was as shocked now as he had been the previous evening when, completely unanticipated by him, he had found Joan wearing a wedding gown -- and had taken her while still wearing it.

He was aware of Laurence, half-hidden behind the en-suite door, but he fixed his gaze instead on his former neighbour. His stomach churned with desire for her. He had now had sex with her several times, but to see her dressed like this was almost unbelievable.

He could just make out her intense expression through the veil that covered her face. He ran his eyes over her slightly lined throat then down to her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. He stared from one bared orb to the other, then allowed his gaze to rest on the criss-crossed laces of the corset over her belly, and on the soft looking skin between them. His gaze returned to her face and breasts, then down over her midriff to her thighs. His gaze shifted to her short, wiry pubes, trimmed into a heart shape, then latched onto her crinkled, pouting pussy lips. The subtle but provocative movements of her pelvis held his gaze. So did the subtle but obvious movements of her fingers on her breasts -- her mature, C-cup breasts that he had longed to see, feel and kiss for so long. He had already done so several times recently, but now they were bared for him, silently beckoning him...

Joan felt almost intoxicated by his blatant and powerful desire for her. To be wanted so badly made her feel strong, and combated her loss of self esteem that her ex-husband's cheating had produced. For now neither she nor David spoke, each relishing the intensity of the moment. As David stepped closer, though, she rotated her pelvis and thrust it back and forth a little more obviously and lewdly than before.

"Hello again, darlin'," Joan crooned. David was so enraptured that the sudden sound of her voice startled him.

"Oh er, hi, Mrs. Martin. I er... you rang for assistance... er... room service."

She smiled through her veil.

"I knew when I was passed the message that it was YOU that wanted servicing, not the room..." he added.

"I knew you'd understand," Joan replied. "I need another good hard fuck, darlin'. Like the one you gave me last night as I waited for my husband."

David blushed, still unaccustomed to hearing the woman of his fantasies over several years using such language.

Joan glanced in the mirror to check out Laurence. She avoided making eye contact but the tawdriness of being watched as she and David prepared to have sex was outrageously appealing. She felt another squishy surge between her legs.

_________________________

Laurence was acutely conscious that Joan and David both knew that he was watching. He felt embarrassed and ashamed, but excited to be the supposedly undetected voyeur. The tawdriness of the role-play fed his already bulging erection. He was the cuckolded bridegroom watching his bride as she lured a younger man to their bed in their honeymoon suite. He reminded himself that it was not entirely unrealistic -- after all, men of his own age did still get married to women of Joan's age.

The sordid nature of the scenario they were acting out was in fact even starker. Joan had already allowed David, as if one of the hotel staff to sully her on her wedding night as she waited for Laurence, her bridegroom, to arrive. It was only role-play, but it was delightfully outrageous.

Laurence watched her younger lover's hand drop to her heart-shaped bush and play with the dark, close-trimmed wiry pubes. Laurence was unable to decide whether the fantasy or the reality was the more sordid.

Again he went through the detail in his mind. Joan had advertised in a local newspaper for sexual companions. Granted, it had been under the euphemism of "no strings adult fun", but it didn't take a genius to work out what she intended by it. And he had responded. He felt a twinge of guilt that, he had done so as a married man (though admittedly in a celibate relationship due to his wife's disability).

But he had not been the only respondent whom Joan had offered herself to.

Right before his eyes was the other. He did not consider David his rival for her attentions, but for Joan to be sharing her favours between the two of them was pretty raunchy to say the least.

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