My day had begun like most others. The sun had barely cracked the sky when I clocked in for my morning shift at the supermarket. It was unusually chilly for October, and I was glad to be inside — at least for a little while. Most of my work involves deliveries, so I’m often out in the elements. But my boss did let me use the store’s van, and I was overjoyed when she told me that its heater was finally working again.

My job isn’t the most glamorous, but it puts enough money in my pocket to pay for college textbooks and leaves me some leftover to drink at the bar with my buddies. You might be surprised to hear, though, that I love chatting with the customers.

There’s one specific patron who caught my eye — Cecilia. She’s in her late 40s, which means that she’s old enough to be my mother. She even told me that she has a son who’s my age and goes to a university out of town. But I can assure you that Cecilia’s interest in me was not maternal. She regularly looked at me like she wanted to eat me alive, and I wanted to let her. We’d been flirting for months, but nothing had ever happened between us.

One day, she came into the market and did her own shopping, but she gave an exaggerated sigh at the register, complaining that there would be just too many bags for her to handle on her own. That’s when the cashier “reminded” Cecilia that the store delivers and handed her a slip to jot down her address.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she told the checkout girl. “But there’s only one man I trust to do the job right.”

Cecilia delivered her last line while pointing a ballpoint pen in my direction. The cashier laughed and assured her, “I’ll make sure Robert handles your order.” Then the gal addressed me and said, “You can take this over for her before your lunch break, right?”

I gave a goofy salute and replied, “Can do, ladies.”

Cecilia’s order was more substantial than her usual. It almost looked like she was stocking up for a party. I loaded up the van and looked up at the brightening sky, thankful the rain had ended.

Pulling up to Cecilia’s large house, I noticed that the yard was meticulously kept. I grabbed the first bag and walked up to her front door. It swung open before I could knock, revealing Cecilia in a black knit dress that hugged her curves like it had been painted on.

“Come in, Robert,” she purred, stepping aside to allow my entry. The house smelled delicious, like a blend of vanilla and cinnamon. “Thanks for doing this. It’s just too much for me to handle as a single woman.” Eyeing me up and down, she added, “But you’re such a strong young man, I bet it’s no trouble for you.”

I assured her, “Not at all, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t ‘ma’am’ me. It makes me feel so old, and I’m only 48. Call me Cecilia.”

I nodded, placed the bag on her kitchen counter as directed, and hauled in the rest of her packages. I’d always been attracted to Cecilia, but as she stared at me with a lascivious hunger, I was starting to feel like I was in over my head.

When she asked me to help put her groceries away, I agreed because I had plenty of time. And also because I thought, with a house as fancy as hers, that I had a chance of earning a hefty tip if I helped her out.

When the last bag was empty, Cecilia leaned against the counter and said, “I’ve been watching you for a while now. You always seem so tired — and so serious.”

“School and work keep me pretty busy,” I said with a shrug.

“You’re young,” she said. “You should be enjoying life.”

The way she said it — and the way she looked at me — made me feel like maybe she had something in mind that would help me do just that.

“You know what I enjoy?” she asked, moving closer.

“What’s that?”

“A good ... workout,” she whispered, her hand brushing against my chest.

Her touch was electric, and suddenly all the tension that had been building between us had grown too great to ignore.

I reached out to touch her, letting my hand rest on her arm. Cecilia leaned forward, her breath hot against my lips in the seconds before we kissed. Our make-out session was passionate, as if we’d been holding back our desire for a lifetime.

Cecilia started to unbutton my shirt, her hands moving to promptly strip it off me. We didn’t speak, but our actions said everything. The kitchen was our playground, and the groceries were all but forgotten.

My confident cougar sat me in a dinette chair and straddled my lap. I was still wearing pants, but her sexy body wriggled against the rapidly swelling bulge beneath my clothing. Cecilia’s hands roamed over my bare shoulders and back as our kisses continued.

I’d never before fooled around with someone who was so much older than me, but the way she kissed and touched me convinced me that she’d be one hell of a lover. I guess there’s something to that phrase: With age, comes experience.

Cecilia’s dress was hiked up around her thighs, and I could feel the heat of her, even through my clothing. She planted moist kisses down my neck, leaving a hot, wet path in her wake. I groaned and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me.

Cecilia broke free of my arms and stripped off her dress and bra, all while still perched on my lap. I looked down and saw her hairless mound because she was wearing no panties. My cock was swelling to mammoth proportions, and the widening smile on her face told me that she felt it, too. Her hands found my belt buckle, and she began to unfasten it.

However, I stopped her and asked, “Should we maybe go upstairs?”

“Who needs a bed?” she said teasingly.

Cecilia slid off my lap and fully opened my pants. I wasn’t wearing any underwear, either, so it was easy for her to grab hold of my rod and stroke me. It felt so good, and I was lost in the moment, loving the way she was touching me.

Cecilia’s free hand rose to my chin and tilted it downward.

“Watch me,” she demanded.

I did, and our eyes locked as she knelt before me and took my cock into her mouth. Her tongue was skilled and sure as it swirled around my crown, and she swallowed my shaft deeper than anyone ever had.

I gripped the edge of the seat, trying not to lose control right away.

Cecilia’s head moved up and down, her cheeks hollowing with each determined suck. It was like she was trying to devour me whole, and I didn’t want it to stop. But she ultimately had other plans.

With a mischievous smile, she stood up and turned around, bending over the counter with her naked ass pointed in my direction.

“I want you to taste me,” she said.

Cecilia’s perfectly sculpted rear was a thing of beauty. Her calves were muscular and shapely, and she parted her thighs enough to allow me a good glimpse of her glistening slit.

I stood and positioned my chair behind her. I sat down so I could comfortably dive in and enjoy my lunchtime meal of pussy.

Cecilia arched her back and parted her legs further to invite me in. The musky scent of her arousal was intoxicating. I successfully sought out her clit with my tongue, and she gasped, grinding her crotch lewdly against my face.

She was writhing wildly, and I did all I could to stay on target. I licked and sucked her snatch, savoring every drop of her freely flowing juices. Her moans grew louder as I rapidly flicked my tongue against her swollen button.

I gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as best I could as she squirmed and bucked. My diligence paid off because she started to come, her body shaking with pleasure as she rode out her climax.

When Cecilia was finished, she turned around and looked down at me, her face flushed and her eyes half-lidded with lust. She urged me to strip off my open pants and climb onto her large kitchen island. She positioned me on my back, and she clambered atop me. One of Cecilia’s hands grabbed my hard cock, and she guided it to the entrance of her pussy.

She jammed herself downward, taking all of me inside her cunt at once. Her warm, wet tightness enveloped me like a glove.

We moved together in a rhythm that seemed to have been choreographed by the gods of lust themselves. Her breasts bounced above my face as she rode me, and I stilled her just enough so I could get my mouth on one of her tits, sucking and teasing its nipple.

Cecilia’s elegantly manicured nails dug into my shoulders, and I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. Her hips rolled and ground against me, each movement sending feelings of pleasure racing through my body. I felt her cunt getting progressively wetter, her honey glazing my shaft and balls as she rocked atop me.

Cecilia’s soft moans soon turned into helpless preclimactic whimpers.

Reaching up, I grabbed her ass with both hands, lifting her up slightly and then slamming her down onto my spike. She shouted out loud as she came, her pussy clenching around me like a vise.

The sensation was so intense that shortly afterward, I climaxed with a roar.

We were sweaty and sticky, but I knew we had to part. Cecilia needed to clean her kitchen if she ever hoped to make food there again, and I had to hop back in the van because my lunch break was almost over. There was no doubt that I’d have a bunch of jobs lined up for the afternoon. But none would top the orgasms that I delivered to Cecilia — or the rather substantial tip that she provided to reward me for my extra-special “services.”