When I started at university I had an unusual experience. Other students were allowed to move into halls or rent flats, but my parents were perhaps a little over-protective and I had to have an approved room. In fact, what happened was that I ended up with an entire (fairly small) house to myself, I could entertain my friends there.

A little bit of background now - when I was growing up my father worked for an engineering company and the boss was Mr Chabot. The family became friends of ours and we saw them regularly from the time I was five years old until I was around ten. My mother disapproved of 'tarty' clothes, heavy makeup, nail varnish and high heels and so on, but Mrs Chabot dressed in exactly that kind of clothing. I had always liked her perfume and when I started to become sexually aware I began to find her very arousing, especially since (I think all young men like this feature) she had enormous breasts. I found her legs very shapely and she usually wore sheer nylons but sometimes fishnets. My mother was extremely disapproving of this and the first time I remember we saw Mrs Chabot wearing fishnets, she said Mrs Chabot was "mutton dressed as lamb". That was the first time I ever heard that expression but for some reason I found it exciting and I masturbated that night thinking abour it and thinking what I would do to Mrs Chabot if I had her in my bed with me.

I should explain just a little more. The Chabot family and mine did many things toogether over the years and we were all fitness fanatics, with plenty of exercise - swimming, cycling, dancing, many other things too but mainly those. In my case plenty of masturbation too whenever I saw Mrs Chabot or her daughter Rosalind in a swimsuit. Both of them had big tits and I watched Rosalind grow hers. However, she was a bit more 'frumpy' than her mother.

Unfortunately, Mr Chabot was in poor health and when I was ten years old he died. Circumstances had suddenly changed and we didn't see the Chabots any more. Mr Chabot was 64, my mother was 40, while Mrs Chabot was 55.

At the time I was unaware my father had kept in touch and when I went to university he informed me I would be living in a house the Chabots owned, on my own. I thought that was a fine idea. I took up residence. There I began to enjoy my freedom. I masturbated a lot at night thinking about female fellow students I wanted to fuck, especially a tall big titted Chinese girl. However, I did get into other habits there. After a while I couldn't resist the temptation of opening the drawers and closets in the bedroom which Mrs Chabot had used. I found all her clothes, including her underwear. In some ways I was shocked because they were even more a representation of 'mutton dressed as lamb' than I had expected. Lace, see-through, open crotch panties, suspenders, basques, tights (pantyhose) and all sorts of smooth sexy materials. I started to masturbate into them. First I masturbated by putting the head of my cock into the cup of one of her bras and rubbing it around. It made me extremely hard while I thought of fucking the owner or feeling her massive tits. Later I moved on to use a pair of her pantyhose. I pulled them on up to my thighs then rubbed my (by now hard) cock inside.

I ought to say I felt very guilty about this and sometimes I decided to 'give up' but before long I was addicted. From time to time I tried to cut it down. One thing had always irritated me. There was one wardrobe which was locked. Eventually (trial and error) I found the right key. Inside I found a large bag of nylon stockings. These were better for masturbating into than pantyhose. I filled one with gel, slipped it over my cock, pulled it tight and wanked myself off, filling it with my cum. I decided I would wank into as many of her garments as I could while thinking about fucking her. Although I engaged in this depraved activity, I never used her panties. Somehow that was just too much taboo.

Needless to say I eventually had to give in to my urges. I did clean up first though, cleaning eveything I had used and putting it away, as much as possible as it had been before. I chose a pair of sheer black nylon panties, seamless, which I could pull on up to thigh height and rub my cock inside. I did that every day. After a while I began to lubricate them with Vaseline (a proprietary kind of petroleum jelly). They became thick and stiff but always warmed up nicely when I wanked in them, getting lovely and soft. Eventually I realised that I had worn them thin in the wanking area and they had started to bulge so I could never put them back!

Freaking out I washed them and stashed them under my mattress, inside a plastic bag.

Months went by. I was back to normal. I got on with my studies. I had the summer vacation then came back and carried on, seriously working, not touching Mrs Chabot's clothes. I actually hadn't been thinking about her so much any more. I had been (uselessly as it happens, it turns out the girls thought I was a nerd) chasing after some of the girls at the university. What that really meant was that there were some girls whose tits I wanted to feel or whose pants I wanted to take off or whose skirt I wanted to look up in order to get myself feeling horny. It didn't amount to anything.

I received a telephone call. My father told me Mrs Chabot would visit for three days. I came back after a class and she was there. I arrived and when I came in through the front door, passing through the kitchen for a moment, she came around the corner from the bottom of the stair and said "Hello". I said hello too. I said "Actually I'm going out, I'll see you later". She smiled and I left. I was going to meet friends to drink beer. I remember exactly what she was wearing. On the outside, a tweed skirt suit, buttoned to the top, skirt to perhaps four inches above the knee, a frilly blouse I could see underneath, high heels, reeking of perfume.

I went out and got drunk. On the way home I was sick after I parted company with my friends. Threw up in the street, no-one else around to see me. I felt better then and walked back to the house. It was late so I thought I would avoid the embarrassment of seeing Mrs Chabot. To my surprise she was sitting in the kitchen drinking a glass of wine. She asked did I want one, I said no. We talked for a while. from time to time I looked down at her legs and noticed they still looked good, but I tried to avoid looking directly in case she noticed. She was still wearing high heels, but a different pair, a pair with straps this time. White high heel shoes with purple embroidery effect nylons, a white skirt and a white blouse, a necklace and a pendant. I started to think I would get an erection, but I moved and concentrated on not letting it happen.

The second time she offered me wine I accepted. I was still drunk anyway so I thought I might as well. It helped me feel less nervous. I continued to look at her legs from time to time. Out of the corner of my eye I would watch her and when I felt she would move a certain way I moved too and just momentarily glanced down to discover what else I could see. On the umpteenth attempt I realised (the skirt she was wearing had a side split in it) she was wearing a slip, bright red, with a lace trim, a satin-like material. That explained the red colour I could see through her blouse. I could also occasionally make out her bra straps and when she stood up I could see that it was a long-line bra. It appeared also to be bright red. I got used to this procedure, watching her move, anticipating when her skirt would show more, turn and look, hope to see more, hope she opened her legs wider next time while turning, and so on. A few times I managed to sneak a reasonable upskirt view, most of the way up her thigh. The slip got in the way though and I could see no farther.

Inevitably she asked me (immediately after sitting down with another glass of wine) "Are you looking up my skirt?" and first I turned bright scarlet. My face really did feel almost like it was on fire, I could truly feel the heat radiating from it. This had caught me out at school. I had 'blushed' on several occasions and it had always been embarrassing, like the time I blushed when another boy asked me "Do you love Theresa?" - really it was a bit of a giveaway. Regrettably it was a kind of truth indicator. I had been caught in the act. I said "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, I really am, I apologise for my behaviour" and so on, rambling and almost in tears. I kept thinking how awful it would be if she told my parents about it.

Instead she shook her head a little, said "Never mind" and added that she often had men looking at her and she always had and she didn't mind, she was simply surprised that someone of my age would look at her that way. I said something else, I can't remember what, then she told me "I know you were always shy, what do you think about girls?" and the reply I blurted out, don't know why, without thinking, was "Ha ha, well I'm definitely not into men if that's what you mean!" (I remember these words precisely) then I laughed like an idiot, nervously.

Mrs Chabot clasped my hand and pressed it onto her thigh. I protested. I said "Oh NO, please!!" and took my hand away (but a little too obviously not quickly enough). She did the same thing again, this time more insistently, pushing my hand down more firmly, pulling it higher under her skirt, far enough up her thigh for me to feel her stocking tops, then one of her suspenders when she pushed my hand around to her behind, even higher, where I felt her most secret underwear for the first time, which turned out to be a pair of French knickers, free and open for my hand to be slid inside easily. Again I easily remember the words, she said  "Don't worry about it, it's natural, don't be nervous, let it happen, I'm not going to treat you badly like a young girl, I won't complain, just let it happen".

We went upstairs. She insisted we undress together then have a leisurely bath, during which she stroked my cock and I let it go hard. She let me wash her tits. Telling me it would be better this way she said "I'm going to shave you" and took a razor. I lay in the bath while she shaved off my pubic hair. I watched it float away. After she had checked I was completely smooth (my cock was rock hard by now and I was in danger of cumming) she took another razor and told me "My turn". She told me to be careful and said "I don't suppose you've ever seen a woman's private parts before, have you?" and I said no I hadn't. She said "Have a look now, look as close as you like, you'll need to since you'll be using that razor on me!"

I began. Mrs Chabot asked me after a moment "What do you call it?" I asked "What do you mean?" she pointed and said "Down here". I said after a pause "Slit?" - she laughed. She laughed a lot. She said "It's a vulva, a fanny a pussy, iside it there is a vagina, there is a clitoris" then laughed again. She asked me "Do you like that?" I said yes. She continued. She told me "You are going to be USING it soon" and started to rub herself. I let out a gasp I was so excited. She asked me could I manage to shave her without shaking. I said "Not sure". Then she told me "Wank yourself off, cum into the bath water while I watch you, that will make you less nervous" and giving in to the sexual abandon I did what she told me. My spurt sprayed the water. Mrs Chabot slid down in the bath and rubbed a little of it on her tits as it lay on top of the water. Next she cupped her hands, gathered together as much of my cum as she could, raised herself to sit on the edge of the bath then rubbed it all in to her hairy bush and told me "Now shave me".

I shaved her bald and when I had finished she said "I know you're shy, really don't worry, your secret is safe with me I won't tell anyone" and then she said "I think you should call it my cunt, that sounds rude. Tits sounds rude too. If you want to do this again just tell me and I will understand". She said - "Say this" - "Mrs Chabot, please may I use your cunt and your tits?" and asked me "Can you do that?" - I said "I guess so" then she replied "GUESS so? Doesn't sound like you mean it! Do you want to?" I said "Oh YES of course, I wouldn't go this far otherwise!" and she nodded. She asked me "Try it". I couldn't. She asked me again. I couldn't. She smiled and said "Never mind" and asked "Would it be easier if I said something?" I nodded. She told me "All right, I will, but promise me I do it this time then we do what I say, next time you say what I told you" and I replied "OK".

Mrs Chabot, back in the warm water of the bath again with me, said "Use my mouth". The first time I had sex with a woman was therefore not what I expected, it was to ejaculate down the throat of a much older woman. That night she took me to bed and I lost my virginity with her. Everything straight away settled down into the pattern established on that first night. Bath together, shave each other, one or other of us saying what to do. I was always too embarrassed and shy to say certain things so she always had to say them, in fact the only thing I could ever really say (and since she liked it) was what she had told me that first time. Also I was also always to be the one to initiate sexual activity. She said "Better that way". As a result, our sex, every day (or after I got used to the idea, several times every day) was begun with my question to her "Mrs Chabot, please may I use your cunt and your tits?" and her contributions were usually "Shave me" or "Use my mouth" or "Use my anus". That was the beginning of my new and unusual life.

So it went on. A comical aside, a few years later I met a guy who had been a student as well and who had rented a room in the house several years earlier. When he was living there he came back drunk and had in fact just been sick in the bath when Mrs Chabot came in and tried to seduce him! He rejected her and left because he didn't like it. I said something like "Oh really?" and didn't mention it again. I only met him very occasionally anyway and it never came up in conversation again. I felt like a "real man" when he mentioned the story. Why? Because I did NOT blush!!

Hope you are all having sex fun too, I am going to be busy with a new client soon, an older woman, 64 years old, American Japanese.