Mrs. Taylor's Excellent Adventures Ch. 03

'And my kind of guy,' she added to herself. "Well, I should be off, Becky. Thank you for confiding in me. Us girl's have to stick together," she added with a smile. Becky nodded her head.

'So the guy is only eighteen and he likes to have fun with the girls. Perfect. I think I'll try and give him some.' Mrs. Taylor walked back to the B+B with her mind going all the way.

Her quick packing of that morning hadn't included some of the supplies she thought might prove very entertaining to Greg. In particular she lacked her favourite chemical additive, a tablet that her husband had come across that acted as a very rapid sedative leaving people very venerable, but unlike the date rape drugs, wore off very quickly and left them fully aware of whatever interesting situation they found themselves in.

Back in her room, Mrs. Taylor thought about going back home to stock up but then remembered that about an hour north of this sleepy little town was a much larger city that she knew had a shop with all she would need, except for the tablets. 'No problem' she thought. 'If he's the guy I think he is, I won't need them.'

It was only one in the afternoon. She had plenty of time. Getting in her car, she headed out of town, got onto the main highway and headed north. Greg, if he was both very lucky and very unlucky would have an interesting evening. He was supposed to have both money and an attitude, so in a small town he shouldn't be hard to find. And because he had already expressed an attitude towards her, he would be easily manipulated into thinking her way. All she had to do was have him think it was his way. Tables would be turned when she was ready. He wouldn't think to see it coming. 'Coming...oh yes, that he will see coming,' she thought.

On the outskirts of the city she pulled over to get gas and took out her Blackberry. Looking up the shop, she got an address and the maps in the phone directed her to her destination. It was a typical sex shop but she had heard the good stuff was in the back.

She walked in and glanced around at the usual displays of vibrators, cheap skanky lingerie and porn DVDs. She walked up to the counter where a tattooed and pierced young woman in Goth was flipping through a magazine. Skin Art. She took her time looking up and didn't seem impressed by Mrs. Taylor's 'school mom' attire. "Sure you're in the right place, lady?" was her only greeting.

Her black and tattered tee shirt that ended around her belly button, was doing little to conceal the lack of a bra. Her small and sagging breasts looked like a pair of fried eggs. Not a trace of nipple was evident. The tee shirt advertised a Goth band with the name 'Suck It'. Around her waist was a black skirt, pleated and decorated with large pins and several chains. Bare legs ended in what looked like construction boots, dirty and worn. Her hair was typical Goth, dyed black and cut in a caricature of disarray. Through it ran a few streaks of blood red. Her tattoos looked amateur and designed to offend. Across her lower abdomen was the image of a girl's spread legs, a mound of black pubic hair and an open and bleeding vagina. Mrs. Taylor looked closer and saw a tattooed snake's head emerging, mouth open and fangs dripping poison. 'Enter At Your Own Risk' was written below in flowing script.

"I'd like to look in the back. I have a few special things to get for a special evening," Mrs. Taylor said, studiously ignoring the other tattoos.

The uninterested clerk shrugged her shoulders and said, "What back? If you don't see it here, try Bloomindales."

"Anybody else work here, sweetie?' smirked Mrs. Taylor. "Especially someone who works on commission?"

That got her attention. "Watcha lookin' for?" she said without looking up.

Mrs. Taylor was getting annoyed. "Open up the back and send someone in who's not right out of special class. And no, that's not you, sweetie." Mrs. Taylor had a quick look and noticed a door behind a rack of sexy costumes. "I'll be over there," she said and walking over, pulled the rack out of the way.

The clerk looked a bit put off. "Look, I just work here. The boss is out and I'm not supposed to let strangers back there." She had walked over and was looking uncertain.

Mrs. Taylor took her wallet out of her purse, pulled out some one hundred dollar bills, flashed them and said, "I'm Ben Franklin. Here's my ID. Now open the fucking door."

With that the clerk took a key out of her pocket, opened the door and said, "Take your time. If you need me, just stick your head out." Then she reached in and turned on the lights. Mrs. Taylor walked in and shut the door behind her.

She stood and looked over the room. This was just the shop she was looking for. On the walls were handcrafted whips, crops, various types of restraints and gags. On some racks and displayed on the walls was a very impressive assortment of what looked to be high quality leather goods; bras, bustiers, panties, corsets, crotchless pants and a few cat suits. On another rack were various men's leather clothes, masks, full head covers and hats.

There was a rack of every imaginable type of woman's boots, shoes, masks, and hats. There were display cases of nipple clamps, weights, labia and clit clamps, mouth spreaders and pins. In another display were various high quality toys. Gleaming stainless steel sculptured dildos, vibrators, anal plugs, ben wa balls, eggs and some high end butterflies and rabbits. Sex furniture, slings, suspension equipment and various supplies of ropes and chains were there. And finally, the good lingerie with fine silk in abundance. 'All right!' thought Mrs. Taylor.

First she looked over the lingerie. As much as she adored some of the leather clothing, she preferred to have it custom made. To get Greg in the mood wasn't going to require anything special but some drop dead lingerie always helped. Her practiced eye quickly found a set in stunning black with bright red trim, a little white lace and yes...they had her size. She quickly slipped out of her clothes and the bathing suit she was wearing. Then on went the garter belt that had real rubber and ring clasps for real stockings. Then the bra which with a little adjustment gave her breasts that perfect slight lift and sculpted shape that men melted over. Stockings were something she couldn't see, at least the real ones. Mrs. Taylor opened the door and called for the clerk who was again reading a magazine. She looked up and saw Mrs. Taylor standing there with no panties and raised her eyebrows in surprise. She walked over, not doing a good job of avoiding looking at Mrs. Taylor from head to toe, concentrating on the middle.

"I need a pair of black, fish-net silk stockings, the kind with the line up the back," Mrs, Taylor said, ignoring the clerk's wandering eyes.

The clerk had a good look up and down the bare legs in front of her. "Yeah...I think I can find some...wait here."

Mrs. Taylor went back into the room leaving the door open. Checking over the boots and shoes she spotted exactly what she wanted. High heeled open shoes with wrap around thin straps that went around her ankles. She had just put them on and was walking about and checking how they altered her posture when the clerk came back with the stockings.

Mrs. Taylor gave her a false smile and sat down on a chair. to remove the shoes and put on the stockings. She made no effort to dismiss the clerk and went about donning the stockings, making sure the girl got good views of her unadorned femininity. Doing her best to make attaching silk stockings to the clasps a sexual display, she then sat down and slowly put on the shoes, then, putting out a foot, said, "Could you please help me with these straps?' delivered with a sincere smile.

The girl, who was no obviously turned on, got down and as she went to work on one, Mrs. Taylor casually put her other leg over the arm of the chair, giving the girl an unobstructed close up of her clean shaven vulva. The girl fumbled her way through the first shoe and Mrs. Taylor took down her other leg and offered that foot. Then she leaned forward and ran her hand all over her vulva and pubic area.

Looking concerned she asked the girl, "Do you think I need a fresh shave? This is good enough for a guy but...for a girl...I'm not sure...what do you think?"

The girl focused on getting the second shoe done and then looked directly at the areas in question. Then she reached out and softly stroked the skin. Her facial expression was now soft and her mouth was slightly open. Mrs. Taylor, with her best sexy, sultry voice, urged the girl on. "Use a more sensitive part of you...think like a woman..." and let her voice trail off.

The girl said, "Give me a minute", got up and went out the door. Mrs. Taylor heard the front door being locked and a few seconds later, the girl was back. Still in the chair, Mrs. Taylor gave the girl an encouraging smile and then leaned back. "I put up the 'closed' sign," the girl said.

She felt surprisingly gentle touches, soft kisses and tender caresses and strokes. 'Perhaps this girl has values after all,' she thought as she felt her labia being gently parted. After a few moments of the girl's appraisal, a warm and expert tongue began to explore all Mrs. Taylor's offered treasures. Minutes passed as soft feminine lips and fingers cherished soft feminine gifts. Then the girl got up, leaned forward and whispered, "I'll just get a few things."

Mrs. Taylor said nothing but watched as the girl opened a display cabinet and selected some toys. She then offered her hand and helped Mrs. Taylor up and guided her to a piece of sex furniture and had her lay down. It was a sculpted settee and it formed to her body as she settled in for her pleasuring.

The girl slowly went to work with her mouth and tongue; sensuously giving Mrs. Taylor the kind of oral that one woman gives to another. With an anal penetration toy that the girl had surreptitiously applied some lube that gave off a scent of jasmine, she gently teased around before taking a full minute to penetrate. In a few short moments, Mrs, Taylor's ass felt wonderfully warm. "Ohhh...that is nice," she murmured.

The girl just gave a particularly exquisite suckling to her clitoris and sensuously and slowly entered Mrs. Taylor's vagina with what felt like three fingers, going straight to her G. 'Oh yeah,' Mrs. Taylor thought, 'let's get it on!.'The toy in her ass started to make subtle movements that raised the local temperature several degrees. 'Note to self,' Mrs. Taylor thought. 'Get some of that stuff.'

With her eyes still closed and her head still back and relaxed, Mrs. Taylor was in mild awe of the girl's skills. She was doing a good job of making each pleasure spot the focus of her attention in rotation. Mrs. Taylor's clitoris would be giving her increasing waves of feminine ecstasy and then would ease off while her ever warming ass would be probed deeper as it was perfectly stretched. Then that would slow down as her G was steadily and increasingly massaged and pressed. As the girl rotated through her rounds Mrs. Taylor was starting to stretch languidly, her hips very slowly imitating a Tahitian dancer's pelvic delights.

Her hands went to her bra covered breasts and massaged them through the satin smooth silk. Her nipples were two solid buds of pleasure that she started to squeeze in rhythm with whatever pleasures the girl was applying to her lower centres of increasing sexual power. Murmurs of pleasure were being followed by low moans and small gasps as the girl perfectly brought her up and up the stairway to earthly heaven.

As Mrs. Taylor's pelvis did an ever increasing Tahitian dance the girl eased off her clitoral stimulations and held her finger tips steadily on the now firm and ridged vaginal tissue underlying Mrs. Taylor's ready to burst G spot. The anal toy surrounded by the now very warm anal canal was held steady as well and Mrs. Taylor knew the girl was inviting her to do the Tahitian dance and use the girl's fingers and toy to bring herself to the orgasm of her own timing.

"Go girl...fuck yourself silly", she urged the woman in front of her. "Fuck my fingers...fuck until you melt...I want your cum all over me...I want to see you coming so hard...come for me, girl...come for me..."

Mrs. Taylor was impressed. The girl was far more skilled than her earlier attitude had suggested. With a long and honest sigh, she slowly did exactly what the girl wanted. As the fingers in her vagina were held steady, Mrs. Taylor used them as her own living G spot dildo. Slowly and steadily, she moved her pelvis in an increasing dance of sexual self fulfillment. "Hummmm...hummmmm...hummmmmmmm..." she murmured as she forced her G down against the girl's firmly set fingers.

"Oh yeah, girl...oh yeah...that's it...now you're fucking..." The girl was also impressed. The 'soccer mom' had some skills of her own. "Do it, girl...do it...come so hard for me...oh yeah...it's coming...can feel it now, girl...it's coming...it's happening, girl..."

Mrs. Taylor was an expert at self gratification and she was putting on a serious display of her talents. Her breathing was deep and steady. She knew that a little calming was the key to climbing the highest of orgasmic mountains. Maintaining her rhythm, she ever so slowly used more and more pelvic Tahitians to get her where she wanted to go.

"Oooohhh.....ooohhhh....yessss......yessss.....yesssss! Yessss!! YESSS!!!!"

With a last few contractions down onto the girl's fingers, Mrs. Taylor was peaking. She arched her back, thrusting her pelvis down and tried her best to crush the fingers that held her in the bonds of sexual pressure. Pressure so powerful she was about to burst.

With a last gasp for air, she let out a bellowing groan and was coming. Her body tensed and then was trembling.

"FUCKKKK!! FUCKKKK!!! FUCKKKK!!!" she called out as three waves of ecstasy washed over her very soul.

"Still coming...still coming...oh shit! Still coming," she cried out in a high pitched voice of near pain. "Oh my God...another...another..." and she squeezed down on the fingers until a second Big One had her shaking.

The girl was now very, very impressed. "Fucking A! Look at you, girl. Serious...fucking A!"

"Don't move!" ordered Mrs. Taylor in a hiss and she again was gyrating and squeezing down. Her eyes bored into those of the girl, who was now looking back with wide eyed wonder. "One more...just one more..." and her eyes were shut as she worked on a third.

"Fuck me," the girl murmured in appreciation. "You're good. Go for it, girl..." and Mrs. Taylor did.

She grabbed the hand that was so good to her and drew it in harder. "Fist me...god yes...do it...do it..." Mrs. Taylor pleaded in all sincerity. "Fuck me so hard...get it all in there...pump me till I'm gone..." Her request was not to be denied, not that the girl had any ideas about stopping now.

"Fucking A, girl...fucking, fucking A!" and with well a moistened hand, she put all her fingers and her thumb to Mrs. Taylor's cum slicked vagina.

She had to push firmly when her hand was almost but not quite there. Mrs. Taylor gave out a gasp of painful pleasure and taking the girl's wrist again, supplied the needed extra effort to get all of the girl's hand into her willing stretched and aching vagina. As it slipped in, she gave out a low moan of pleasure and expectation. "Go for it, my Goth clad lover," she murmured. Let me feel you. Ohhhh....ohhhh...yesssss..." as she felt the girl's hand form a fist and start to rotate.

Mrs. Taylor went limp against the sex chair and sighed. Her wet, wet vagina was now filled and she was drinking in the pleasure of another woman's movements in her, relishing the sensation of the stretch and the fullness deep inside.

The Goth girl doing the fisting was also relishing the feeling of her hand deep and completely in the vagina right in front of her face. The sweet, sweet sucking sounds she was creating were music to her ears. She pulled back with her hand as open as she could get it, feeling the tight, slippery resistance as she was stretching Mrs. Taylor's vagina until it threatened to rip.

'God! That hurts so good!" Mrs. Taylor hissed and meant it. The girl kept up the pressure until Mrs. Taylor was gasping and starting to shake. "PULL! Goddamn it!" she cried and the girl did. When it looked like she was about to split open her new lover, her hand popped out with a loud sucking sound. "Again!" Mrs. Taylor pleaded.

Back in went the girl's hand with no trace of gentleness. She now knew what kind of a woman was in her store. "Fucking A, girl...fucking A! You had me fooled when you walked in here but I've got your number now." She smiled in a devilish way. "Brace yourself, Bridget," she said in an imitation of a male Australian voice. "The old cunny's gonna get a real Fair Dinkum walkabout now."

With that, she proceeded to make good on her threat. Gone was the earlier tenderness and feminine touch. Now she was going to really fuck the woman. She was going to work her vagina until it was well and truly fucked. Gone were her earlier soft and loving words. Now it was time for some serious sex. Her kind of sex, hard and unforgiving. 'Fuck 'em if they can't take a fuck' kind of sex. 'Safe words are for kids' kind of sex. 'It's all about me...not you...Bitch!' kind of sex. The Goth girl was now back in her element. Fisting was one of her passions. Making a girl cry, she had come so hard, was another. Making her cry some more was a third. 'Well, girl,' she thought, 'time to see what you've got.'

She started with a long and vigorous session of pumping and twisting. Her fist was no longer a love tool. It was a sex weapon. Her objective was no longer the woman's pleasures. It was getting her so fucked that she would be begging for it all to end. It was getting her so over stimulated that she would be about to have a seizure. It was about making orgasms painful. So far, she hadn't seen any sign that the woman who owned the vagina she was fucking had any limits. She was very interested in finding out.

The woman was just lying there, relaxed and happy. Having her vagina fisted was obviously something she had enjoyed on many an occasion. The girl felt no vaginal tightenings or movement whatsoever. She moved her thumb up as best she could and went to work on the G spot that she already had made go off several times.

For almost a full minute there was no sign of progress but the girl was unconcerned. With steady and full strokes, she pumped back and forth, her thumb hard against the top of the woman's vagina. Then with a slight smile, she felt the first stirrings. The woman was on her way.

Very impressed with the degree of control the woman was showing, the girl made sure that her opinion was not so appreciative. "Haven't fucked a lot of older girls...but you seem to have a seriously dead cunt, old girl. My usual girls would be screaming by now. I guess you've had all the nerves in there fucked right out of you. Still fairly tight...I guess you like being fucked by little boys. Little boys with pencil dicks...or little girls with baby carrots." She laughed in a derisive tone. "That's it. You're a vegetarian. Carrots and the odd cucumber...the little ones...pickled...at least that's what you smell like."

Mrs. Taylor had played this game many times before. Her part was to encourage the verbal and sexual abuse.

"Dream on, tiny tits. I've had cocks bigger than your hand in there, and the only thing seriously dead around here is your brain. You fuck like you're on Valium...or methadone...maybe both. Yeah, I've fucked a few little girls...every one of them had more imagination than you. And every one of them could get me off. You're fucking useless! What's on TV? Something interesting...like a gardening show?"