MILF and Chocolate Blue Eyez

He started up the road. The light was still in the sky and gave the park to his right a romantic look that, he mused, would soon give way to mystery and danger.

Across the road was a long row of tenement buildings painted white.

'Bedsits', he thought.

He kept moving. Cars were parked on his side of the road next to the park and as he passed, the owners were loading up dogs and driving off. The road became quiet quite suddenly.

Chocolate checked his phone's map and after a few seconds the blue dot indicating his location pulsed on a map. He looked up and could see the odd-shaped junction which led to 'Henry Street'. In his mind he could see his MILF - Jilly - strutting along and up the kerb. He stopped and perused the scene.

'So you were walking down the road...' His eyes slowly panned left as if watching her walk. His eyes alighted on the town house on the corner, it's shape mirroring the junction. It was a large Georgian house with over-sized windows overlooking the park and three storeys high. A wall surrounded it reducing in height the further up the hill it went.

Chocolate crossed the road, staring at the house. He moved toward the junction and saw the sign for 'Henry Street'. He was now looking at the house from the reverse side. The windows here were smaller and frosted.

He walked back and crossed the road, back toward the park.

He felt exposed and felt that he looked suspicious. Staring at a particular house in a residential street was never a good idea, and though he knew he was a good guy, the natural racism of the middle classes and Police meant that he would be perceived as someone who was about to perform a break in or some other criminal act.

He looked left, back the way he'd come and saw a small amount of tree-covering from one of the park's trees. He ambled down and waited. He didn't know why but he was drawn to this area or this particular house. It was, he surmised, because this was very near to where she'd been pictured. It was the closest he could get to the woman he'd been so transfixed by earlier in the day.

He waited for a few minutes. The light of the day was now gone.

Suddenly, his eyes were drawn to the upstairs section of the odd shaped Georgian house. A huge sash window in the middle of the house suddenly had light spilling out where a light had been turned on and he watched, unblinking, as a figure began to appear in the window, obviously climbing stairs. He was probably one hundred feet away, but he was sure it was her. He watched as she came further into view and then turned into a room to her left. Another light went on as she entered. He watched as she passed the window.

'Was that her bedroom'? He wondered.

His breath quickened and his legs carried him quickly back up the hill to the junction. Within a few seconds, he found himself standing at the weird junction, looking at the end of the house. He hadn't noticed before, but here was virtually a floor to ceiling window in the Georgian style. A TV had been inconveniently placed in front of the window and he could make out a figure and occasionally her head.

He waited and watched as she moved about the room.

She came and stood in front of the TV, looking out on the now fully dark street. He was exposed having left the cover of the trees. He stood, trying to look inconspicuous and failing. He looked up again and still she looked out. Was she looking at him? Or perhaps, she was looking at herself in the glass as surely the darkness was impenetrable? He continued to stare. She slowly turned to face back in the room but didn't move into the room. He watched as her arms came down, grabbing the hem of her tight t shirt and pulled it up, she was clearly bra less.

"Fuck!" Chocolate couldn't help himself as he spoke the expletive out loud.

She turned side on and he was transfixed by her perfect, pert breasts. Were they fake?

"Who fucking cares?" Again, out loud but delivered like a breath.

He HAD to get closer. He had to give himself a chance with the amazing woman.

She moved from the window and he watched as the light was extinguished. He decided to try to be invisible now that darkness was here. He quickly crossed the road to get nearer to her house, only the exterior wall stood between him and the house.

His senses were heightened as he had already dismissed the idea of going on to the driveway due the gravel that would give away his arrival (he impressed himself for the second time that evening at having worked that out so quickly.)

As he moved down the park side of the house, he looked up at the large landing window. This was now the only light on in the house.

Everything went quiet for ten minutes, maybe fifteen.

What was he waiting for?

Rising to the idea that he was now a detective, he pondered his choices.

He could go home and do some more research. He knew her name and assumed he now knew where she lived. That alone was a lot of information.

2. He could sit it out here and see if she came out? But at this hour, and having stripped off, it was unlikely.

3. He could try and do a little more reconnaissance here.

His choice was made for him. He heard before he saw the large oak front door open.

A gentle light spilled out and she was a silhouette against the sudden light of her hallway.

He waited, concerned that he was still too exposed, worried that his mere presence would frighten her back inside. He took out his phone and unlocked the screen to look less conspicuous, as though he was a passing pedestrian looking for directions.

He heard her feet on the gravel and heard her voice, chiding. He watched as she appeared on the road with her dog, a small bulldog type; fat and snuffling, out for an evening stroll with his MILF Mistress. How quaint. And how fortuitous.

However, she didn't look appropriately dressed for a dog walk.

She wore a tiny, tight dress that did its best to cover her perfect arse. Her naked legs, stretched and taut, led down to her heels which were towering and spiky with a sexy ankle strap. Her only attempt at something conservative was a sexy pale leather jacket which she wore open and as she turned, her magnificent breasts jutted out like a pair of over ripe grapefruit.

Before she turned to begin her walk up the hill, away from town, she looked directly at him. She held his gaze for a time longer than could be mistaken for a passing gaze. He wondered if the light from his phone had given him an even more threatening look and he wanted to call out; to implore her to come and talk to him but he decided against it.

She turned and started to walk, her heels clip-clopping on the path. She entered a pool of light from the overhead street light and the sight of her bathed in the orange light was a vision he wanted to remember forever. Her legs looked beyond smooth. Were they oiled? They certainly seemed to glisten in the artificial light. Every now and again, she'd adjust slightly, pulling down one side of her dress as the stretchy material rode up her backside. It was comically, wonderfully short, and though he couldn't be sure, he wondered if he could make out bottom half of her perfect bubble butt. If he were a passing dog, he'd have surely caught a glimpse of her pussy. The thought of seeing her ripe and juicy pussy lips wrapping themselves around his black cock sent a spark to his crotch and he could feel it unfurling impressively in his trousers. As he moved, he put a hand in his pocket to readjust to make himself more comfortable. Man, he was hard for this piece of MILF arse and he hadn't really had a good, long look at her. There was just something in her whole demeanour.

He waited a short while and started to follow at a safe, non-threatening distance. He was building himself up to approach her. A thousand thoughts were in his mind. What would he say to start a conversation? How could he make sure he didn't seem idiotic? What could he say that wouldn't scare her off? How much would he like to suck on her nipples, play with her clit, tit fuck her, face fuck her, bend her over and anally screw her into the bed until finally flipping her over and covering her face and tits with gallons of creamy jizm that he could almost hear sloshing in his over-sized, straining ball bag. This thought gave fresh impetus to his already painfully engorged meat.

She was still moving on the opposite pavement and was about to enter the pool of light under another streetlight when Chocolate noticed a car parked on his side of the road, its engine running. There was little or no lighting on this side so Chocolate could remain reasonably well hidden in the shadows. As he approached, he saw a figure in the car holding an impressive looking camera. Though the window wasn't open, the night air and the car engine were sufficiently quiet to be able to hear the camera motor whirring as he snapped like a Paparazzo.

Chocolate held back, making sure he couldn't be seen by either his MILF or the car. Once Jilly had moved on a few yards, he watched as the man put down the camera, checked his mirrors and moved the car on. He watched the car for a few seconds. The brake lights came on as he approached the weird junction. He performed a U turn and came back past, parking again on the dark side of the street some 20 or 30 yards ahead of Jilly who was still strutting.

Chocolate moved on to see what would happen next.

He witnessed the same thing; the photographer snapping away madly as she appeared in the pools of light.

After he re-parked twice more (they had now crested the long hill) he watched Jilly cross the road and talk to her photographer. They exchanged a few words and he noticed them both turning toward him as though they were fully aware of his presence.

After a minute of discussion, she came round the car, opened the back door to allow her dog in and then climbed in the front.

Chocolate watched as they cruised past and the look from Jilly straight into his eyes was unmistakeable. Their eyes locked, it seemed, for a full minute even though it could have only have been the briefest of moments. He was on her radar but he had no way of knowing whether she was fearful, excited or non-plussed.

He turned and followed the direction of the car, half jogging, back to her house.

It took a full minute or two by the time he reached the house. The lights were on inside36.

He reached the spot under the trees opposite just in time to see two figures making their way past the upstairs landing window and turning into the bedroom where the light was turned on. He watched as she, with her back to the window, pulled her dress up and over her head. She was wearing a thong and bra. She unhooked her bra and let it drop. Even from this distance and angle he could see the outline of her fulsome breasts caught in the light from inside. After a moment's hesitation, she turned and he saw her spectacular body silhouetted in the window. Perfection. Tiny, pinched waist and voluminous breasts (he couldn't see her legs but he felt he already knew what he needed to know about them!) She reached up and after a moment, pulled the curtains across. The show, it seemed, was over. He moved up the road but as he got to the weird junction and looked up, the other curtains were being drawn shut.

He meandered home past merry drinkers and restaurant diners.

Once home, he studied the pictures again, drinking in her body and made a careful note of the website names that carried Jilly's pictures. He had a feeling that her 'collection' was about to expand.

He masturbated furiously with visions of her flashing through his mind and fell into a troubled and fitful sleep.

********

The remainder of the weekend passed in a blur. He had commitments and errands to run. On Saturday, his old footballing mates were meeting and he arrived early in town as the sun was descending and swung by the road where his MILF lived to see if she was about. It was sorely tempting to knock on the door but he didn't think it was a good idea on many levels.

He walked around the outside of the house once and then went back into town, hoping that a few pints would take his mind off this beautiful MILF who had somehow sunk her hooks into every fibre of his tingling cock.

On Sunday, through a post-drinking haze of nausea, he managed to stay upright long enough to turn on his computer. As it sprang to life, he took himself to the kitchen, poured some water and made toast and once he'd devoured these, he went to the shower. As ever these days, his cock was perky and seemingly spring loaded. He masturbated slowly in the shower and as the visions of Jilly flooded into his mind, he started to quicken his pace, imagining lifting her petite frame and throwing it on a bed and somehow forcing his over-engorged cock into her tight, shaved pussy as she screamed in both pain and pleasure. He imagined turning her over and ramming his cock, balls-deep, inside her; faster and faster like a jackhammer.

Chocolate came hard, splattering his cum juice over the screen of the shower. As another wave of his cum shot from his black meat, his legs started to buckle, such was the ferocity of feeling.

He took gulps of air.

What was happening to him? This woman was in his head when he slept and when he was awake. He had to lance this boil somehow. And the sooner the better.

After his shower, he dried himself and pulled on some boxer shorts. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and let out an approving gasp. The abs he'd worked so hard to get were now a permanent feature and he loved the way they popped on his dark, olive skin especially after a shower when he glistened.

"Oh yeah! You'll want some of this, you fucking MILF whore. You'll be begging for this cock soon enough, Jilly!"

He made another iced water and sat at the computer.

He looked at a few web pages but was inexorably drawn to the pages that would bring him closer to his woman. His Prey. His obsession.

His photographic mind immediately recalled the string of numbers and letters required and up popped one of the photos he'd already seen. He clicked on the link that led to the master Flickr account and saw immediately that new photos had been added. These were the photos that had been taken on Friday. First, he studied them closely, recognising every situation and marvelling at the quality and clarity given the lo-light. Her legs glistened as he'd noticed on Friday and he wanted to reach through the screen and run his hands up and down them.

Once he'd looked through them once, he studied each one more closely. Or rather, he looked at the information contained below the photograph.

This time, the location was identified. He hovered his mouse and the map zoomed to where he knew the photos had been taken.

There were other bits of useless, technical information and he read something about commenting on the photo. This, he thought, would be a perfect way to communicate with her. He tried to enter text but a warning was given that he had to be a Flickr member to comment. Without hesitation, he signed up and within seconds was rattling out comments on all of her photos.

'Amazing legs'

'Nice dress'

'Great figure'

'If you decide to join the ramblers, let me know'.

'Marry me'.

After he'd put some comments on his favourite photos, he noticed for the first time that she (or whoever had posted the photographs) had put a small description on a few of the photographs. However, it made little or no sense.

'I enjoy walking my dog by the park and taking in the scenery. My favourite month is September. (9) I think I may have already seen the man I am after but he seems a little shy. (16) close the door (h)@ my return home but I can be quite forgetful (i)yahoo I'm having a wonderful year!'

Another said

'Some say my clothes are not always appropriate for dog-walking. I read about a (6) black man. I want one with a ripped body and truncheon-sized...truncheon! (10inch minimum!) (18) home who wants to...oh my(j).com!!

He read through all the messages and each was as weird as the next. She used words like 'flowers' and 'animals' and in the same paragraph would use 'MILF' and what appears to be a set of vital statistics.

The emerging detective in him started to study each description, trying to decipher any hidden meaning. The numbers in brackets were odd. The letters in brackets were really odd but he'd started to wonder about a pattern. Ignoring the bracketed letters, Chocolate started cutting and pasting the text into a document until he had two pages of what he considered gobbledegook. He stared, unblinking. Suddenly he had an idea. He searched his document for a bracketed '1'. He pasted that and the following sentence into a new document. Next he searched for '2' and so on. Once he'd placed them all in order, he deleted the numbers and read with increasing excitement.

(a) Email I'm a (b)milf. A hot, gorgeous, up for anything, MILF. I have a great figure

(34DD-24-30) and a voracious sexual appetite. I am a total poser

and love being ogled and lusted after by both men and women!! But

I am very fussy having had a string of loser-boyfriends. I have a motto; try anything once.

And one thing I haven't yet tried is to enjoy a liaison with a black man. I don't just want any

black man. I want one with a ripped body and truncheon-sized...truncheon (10inch minimum)

who will dominate me and ride me until I beg for him to stop. (c)in return, I will give him the ride of his life

and promise to give him my undivided attention for one, unforgettable weekend.

I think I may have already seen the man I am after but he seems a little shy!

I tried to impress him at the (d)ip harmacy and even did a

striptease at my window but he must be gay! (e)1 will offer him one more chance

next Saturday when I will strut with my little doggy at 12 noon (f)-. I hope

he can make it (and I hope he has no plans for that night.) But DO NOT approach

me in the street, young man. Follow me, by all means, (g)jr. Hopefully I'll remember to

close the door (h)@ my return home but I can be quite forgetful (i)yahoo

and I do not know what I'll do if I find a tall, dark stranger in my

home who wants to...oh my(j).com!!

Though it wasn't entirely clear because of the odd text and bracketed letters, the meaning and message was clear. He had to clear his diary next Saturday!

He looked again at the document and the penny dropped.

He took the letters in brackets and the letters or numbers next to them, sometimes two sometimes more and placed them in yet another document.

He looked at it.

'milfinip1-jr@yahoo.com'

An email address. A weird one, but an email address nevertheless.

He immediately opened his mail application.

Jilly - or should I call you my MILF slut?

So you're hungry for black cock? You've come (cum) to the right place!

(1)I (2)am worried about my size. I think it may be too large for you to handle given you're so small. I like (3)going (4)to (5)fuck long, hard and rough so I hope for your sake that (6)you are up to it. If you've only fucked white boys, you're (7)in for a shock and can expect some soreness (8)every where as no white guy can ever measure up to my black meat. It may feel like a Black (9)hole!

I'll be outside your house, ready. Don't disappoint me. Make sure you come out looking like the MILF slut you clearly are.

If you leave the door open, I will be your Master for the day (and night.) You'll be my MILF (10)Slut Bitch Whore.

Yours

Chocolate Blue Eyez

His message was crystal clear but he'd embedded the numbers, as had she, to give a hidden message in case his words needed additional re-enforcment.

"I am going to fuck you in every hole! Slut."

He read it, wondering if it was too much then pressed 'send' anyway. He didn't believe it would be delivered anyway.