Audrey Bolton stood at her bay window, bouffant hair perfectly set, a satin blouse with its pussycat bow tied just so at her throat, the pencil skirt hugging her hips as she sipped her tea. Three doors down, young Robin lingered by his gate, eyes fixed on her silhouette. She knew. That quiet respect masked a hunger she could feel from here.
When her ladder slipped while changing a bulb, Robin appeared as if summoned, offering steady hands. "Mrs. Bolton, let me help before you fall," he said, voice low and earnest. Audrey smiled, sharp as her heels. "How gallant. Most men your age run from a woman's chores." They worked side by side, her perfume lingering between them, witty barbs flying: "You watch the avenue like it's your private cinema, Robin. Careful, or I'll start charging admission."
Days blurred into shared teas and garden chats. Tension coiled tighter with every glance at her stockings and block heels. Audrey confronted him one afternoon in her sitting room, voice firm and amused. "You've been staring for weeks. Out with it, boy. What's got you so tongue-tied?"
Robin broke, sobbing against her chaise. "I can't stop watching you, Audrey. You're everything—elegant, powerful. And I... I want to look like you. Dress like you. Feel that femininity on my skin." She arched a brow, strong and unyielding. "Is that so? Tomorrow we begin, but only if you prove you can handle a real woman first."
The air snapped. Audrey pulled him close, her hands guiding his trembling ones to her waist. "Show me how horny you are for this," she commanded, not submissive in the least. Robin's cock sprang hard against her thigh as they tumbled to the rug, panting and sweating. She freed him, delivering a teasing blowjob that left him dripping, then straddled him, her wet pussy sinking onto his throbbing length.
"Fuck, your ass feels divine," she purred, riding him with sharp wit between thrusts. "Imagine you in my skirts, yet here you are, cock deep in mine." He came first, cum spilling hot inside her, but she followed, grinding until they both collapsed, dripping and spent.
Audrey smoothed her blouse, already planning his first lesson. "Rest up, Robin. My wardrobe awaits." Tomorrow, the real transformation would begin.
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