In lieu of the late dinner Madame Andre had planned to serve when Mrs. Staunton and her houseguest, Steve, returned from the opera in Monte Carlo, the two decided cold chicken sandwiches and beer would be okay; so this was the menu. Both enjoyed themselves. Steve sat at one end of the small mahogany table while Melissa sat in her regular place.
After sending the staff off to do as they pleased, the older woman was content to be alone with the boy. She felt quite safe with him, comfortable in her own house and also full of expectancy and anticipation of what the latter part of the evening might bring.
As for Steve, he was all charged up. The air of excitement since they'd come back from the opera was spine-tingling. While showering just before climbing into his pajamas and his new ankle-length robe with the deep pockets and the fur trim around the wide color and the hem, his prick was throbbing constantly.
Tossing his stained shorts into the hamper for Nellie to launder, he took one last look at them and the memory of shooting his semen into them while Melissa's delightful fingers were caressing his cock over his clothing returned to further stimulate and excite him.
He doubted that he'd ever forget the intense thrill of her nearness to him, her kissing him. Neither would he ever forget the wild excitement of Melissa with her skirt up, the delicious sight of her pussy mound under tight panties, how the crotch of her panties clung to her plump lips.
Nor would he forget the view of her long, beautiful legs encased in the filmy, silky nylon, her pretty toes wiggling so provocatively under the sheer material of her stockings. Until Melissa, Steve hadn't paid too much attention to female's toes, but now he found them sensually arousing. He didn't understand this but several times at dinner he could be seen licking his lips and it wasn't from the chicken either.
As far as Steve was concerned, Melissa was the most rapturous woman he'd ever know. As he let his thoughts drift pleasantly, he was pleased that she was as old as she was. This idea intrigued him. It was spicy and added a kind of frivolity to the new experiences he was anticipating.
"A penny for your thoughts, Steve," said Melissa from her end of the table.
"About that crummy opera," he lied.
"I agree. They're all not the same. This one was among the worst, but then, here in this part of the world, one just doesn't attend the opera in Monaco for the music," She fell silent, looking at him, at his clean face, his sparkling eyes, his hair still tousled from his shower, his new pajamas sticking out from under the new robe.
Melissa found herself wondering if he was wearing anything under them. This thought excited her, making her desire for the young boy increase and she began to feel a quickening in her cunt, a fluttering in her clitoris at the thought of the boy's young penis, hard, proud, inside the pajamas, long, thick, white.
God, her mouth was watering to see it. She was famished for sex, almost drooling, her clitoris stinging like her erect nipples under the robe she also wore. While she bathed and prepared for her first little supper, as she called these impromptu meals, she had fingered her cunt, pinched her clitoris and finally massaged her index finger up into her tight moist asshole.
As she did this, her thoughts concentrated on the fun she anticipated with Steve. She reviewed all that had gone on between them so far; from the moment she first set eyes on him until now.
She was continually impressed with the young boy's manners, his ways, how he did this, how he did that, how he walked, stood, sat down, bent his head, and how he smiled or did not smile in response to something said to him or something he said himself.
"We won't have to go to the opera all that often," she said after a long relapse into silence.
"It's just that it's fashionable at times, and living here, I mean, around these parts, it's sort of necessary to maintain one's image. Do you understand me, Steve?"
Melissa picked a fresh, ice cold bottle of beer from the beer chest that rested on a little table that wheeled around. She opened it.
"Yes," he replied. As he watched Melissa he was growing more conscious of his reactions to her, to her luscious body, to the often mischievous look in her bright eyes, to the way she spoke and especially her refined accent, a mixture of British and American, the conversational tone one associates with sophistication rather than snobbery.
Sometimes her eyes would be burning hot. Other times her lids would flutter coyishly like a young girl Sometimes in shadow her face was stunningly beautiful, as it was now in the darkened dining room.
When dinner was finished, she said, "we'll leave the dishes for Nellie." She paused for a moment, wondering if she dared ask him; and then deciding to take the plunge.
"What do you say to having a little chat, perhaps a nightcap up in my sitting room. You've not seen this room yet, Steve. It's rather cozy. It overlooks the sea, a most pleasant view."
"Okay, but I am getting sleepy.
Melissa was not quite sure how true this was but she didn't want to argue either.
"Fine, fine, Steve," she smiled. "When you feel you want to go off, just say the word," she added.
Following her through the chateau, walking behind the older woman, her high heels click-clacking on the highly polished wooden floors that led to the staircase leading to the upstairs regions of the great house, he was increasingly conscious of her seductive walk, the delightful sway of her buttocks outlined under the clinging robe.
At one point he also had-a wonderful view of her jiggling breasts and now he knew they were naked under the robe. This excited him and made his prick leap inside his pajamas.
As he climbed the staircase behind her, 'marveling at the fact that it was so plushly carpeted and so wide that easily three people could have climbed the staircase abreast, he had another marvelous view of her trim ankles and her naked heels. God, he said to himself, what marvelously small feet she had and what excellent care she took of them, or had someone care for them for her.
When they'd climbed two and one half flights, she turned, "it's just a little further on, Steve."
"That's okay," he replied. He was just a bit out of breath as was she.
"You should have an elevator."
"I know," she laughed, "but we've never been able to get one. We've had all kinds of mechanics and designers and even an engineer in to look over the idea, but none could come up with anything sensible."
As she led the youth into her sitting quarters, Steve was almost out of breath. They'd climbed more than four very high flights of stairs.
"In another minute we'd be in heaven, hugh?" he joked.
She laughed with him. "It seems like that, doesn't it, darling?"
She caught herself. This was her second use of the tender word and it was as spontaneous as her first use of it.
The room was as pleasant as she'd said. The view was exquisite. Steve could see the Mediterranean Sea, boats with their lights on far out. He could see what looked like an island off the shore. He could also see the grounds of the chateau, here and there a light illuminating the woods and the sprawling lawns and twisting pathways, flower beds and the houses to the rear of the chateau.
He sat on a sofa next to the huge picture window. This place was very comfortable indeed.
"How about some special wine for our little nightcap, Steve?"
"Sounds okay to me."
"It's very special. A gift of a very dear friend. It's ages old, too."
Steve watched Melissa as she opened the bottle of old wine with the skill of a Parisian cafe waiter. Pop went the cork. She poured two goblets full.
"Well, here's to your happiness, Steve," she smiled, raising her glass in a toast.
"Thank you," he replied politely, raising his own, sipping from it, smiling at the pleasant taste.
"It is good, isn't it?"
"Yes," he agreed, sitting back, then crossing his legs.
Melissa also sat back but when she crossed her legs, the robe parted and in the soft light coming through the large picture window, this enhanced by the light in back of them, Steve had another wonderful view to observe.
From the ankles up both of her legs were bare right up to her mid thigh. In the light they looked so startling white and sexy.
Melissa smiled, "well, when you have something nice, you're proud of it, aren't you?"
"Yes," said Steve, "and Melissa," he added, taking his time because he felt his heart beginning to pound, his breath coming short at the sight of her milky white, silky skin, "your legs are very beautiful, very sexy."
She caught her breath. "Would you like to see more of them, Steve?" She felt a shudder pass through her body. Then a shiver, waiting for his reply.
"Yes."
Putting down her glass, she shifted her position. She lifted her robe high up. Now she was naked to the waist. Steve could easily see her hairy crotch, the inside of her thighs. When Melissa spread her legs slightly, Steve gasped. He saw her pussy lips!
"So beautiful," he sighed.
"You can touch them, you know. Don't be shy," she smiled. She took his hand, guiding it to her leg. "I love to be touched, Steve."
"I can tell."
"You can touch me… anywhere you want to, my little darling," she said, her voice low and soft.
"Anywhere…?" His heart was thundering.
"Yes, ohooo, yessss, Steve, anywhere." She could feel her cunt heating up. She knew it was growing wetter and wetter. Her breasts were also stinging now and when his hand glided between her thighs to cup her hair cunt, she almost cried out in wild ecstasy.
As his fingers combed her soft, very fine pubic hair, she leaned forward. Cupping his face with both hands, she caressed his cheeks, then she put one hand behind his head. "You can kiss my legs, if you want, Steve? I'd just love that, darling. I would."
Steve let her bend his head. He offered only a little resistance. The aroma of her hot cunt was intoxicating.
"Why don't you get down on your knees, Steve?"
"Oh God," he cried.
"Go on, Steve, get down and kiss my legs. Begin with my toes, if you want."
"Oh I want to," he cried, slipping to his knees, bending his face and brushing his moist lips over her toes imprisoned behind the tiny leather straps of her high spike heeled sandals.
"Kiss my toes, darling. Yessssss, kiss them… oh yessssss, my darling, Steve, lick them just like… ohoooo, yessss, just like that… yesssss."