How Anna Seduced Me Pt. 01

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All young men dream of an older woman at some point in their life — it’s something primal in our biology — something that drives us to seek out sensual new experiences and unlikely scenarios. Few act on these impulses, and it would have been no different for me, bar that difficult circumstance and blind luck can sometimes roll the dice of chance… and when those dice roll natural 20s, perchance, unlikely fotune might arise.

This is my story of how I met Anna, an intelligent 40-something-year-old woman who by ‘the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune’ came into my life. It’s also the story of a duplicitous husband who led a quiet life of public service by day, but by night, lived an alter ego of deceit and depravity that threatened to destroy us both…

Part 1

The day was distinct in my memory. I had spent it searching for student accommodation which had proved a series of disappointments, but on reaching the last property on my list, I somehow knew that this one would be different. I rapped on the olive green front door which was bordered by climbing roses. The large 3-storey stone-built house radiated the heat from the afternoon sun. After a few moments, I heard the patter of feet on stone tiles. A woman in her mid-forties slid the door open. She smiled which set off her pretty face, framed by shoulder-length mousy blonde hair. She wore a loose blouse that hinted at a generous chest, and tight denim jeans that showed off her trim waist and slender legs.

“Ah,” she said enthusiastically, “you must be Luke?”

“Yes,” I replied, grinning back at her.

“My name is Anna, come in, please, come in,” she chirped. “I wasn’t sure when to expect you.”

“Sorry,” I said, “I was a bit delayed, you wouldn’t believe how many houses I’ve viewed today.”

“Not to worry,” she said, “well I hope you like this one. A young man in the house would do wonders for this old place.”

She ushered me in and I immediately smelt her scent – roses and jasmine — with something else — an earthy musk that was all of her own. The house was Victorian with high ceilings and original cornices, the sort that one buys at a certain age to nurture a family, and when that family is grown, perhaps to let out for income. The two flights of stairs creaked, but I was not bothered as it allowed me to admire her pert bottom that was made even sexier by the faint outline of her panties.

She opened the door and with a hand in the small of my back, gently guided me into the room, causing me to accidentally brush against her cleavage.

“So this is it,” she said brightly not noticing, or perhaps not caring about my slight faux pas. “We’ve had many students up here over the years. A big house like this needs to be lived in, and with Becky, that’s my youngest by the way, off to college next year, it will feel all the more empty.”

She paused reflectively and then asked, “Do you mind me asking you what you study?”

“Oh, not at all,” I said, “I’m a third-year medical student.”

“Oh wonderful, my husband is a doctor. I’m sure you two will have a lot in common.”

The room smelt a little musty and she strolled over to open the curtains revealing an old-fashioned sash window. Light bathed the room and as I joined her by the window I had a bird’s eye view of the back lawn below. Beside the window was a double bed, and besides that, was a serviceable desk and chair. On the opposite wall was a wardrobe and in the far corner by the door, an alcove which once might have been an ensuite bathroom but was now a little kitchenette.

“Let me show you the bathroom,” she said. “I’m afraid it’s on the floor below.”

We descended to the first floor and stepped into a quaint family bathroom.

“I’m afraid we only have the one bathroom,” she said, “so we all have to share, but once we know each other’s routine it usually works out OK.”

“Do you want a moment alone to get the feel of the place?” she asked. “Could I get you a drink of tea?”

“That would be lovely,” I said.

She left me to revisit the bedroom and after a few minutes, the door brushed open. She handed me a mug and sat down on the edge of the bed smoothing out the duvet for me to sit next to her.

“You know,” she said, “we normally charge the going rate, but I like to help out students when I can, so how does 150 sound?”

“Great,” I stammered in surprise, “but are you sure? This room will get snapped up at double that.”

She put a hand on my shoulder for a moment as she got up and said, “No, I want to help. So what do you think?”

“It’s great… better than great,” I said, a little in wonderment, as my life was generally a calamity of bad luck and bad experiences. “I’ll take it.”


I moved in on the Saturday arriving at 10am. Anna greeted me at the door as before, beckoning me in with a radiant smile.

“I hope I’m not too early?” I asked.

“No of course not,” she replied fiddling with her hair. “We were wondering when you might arrive. Let me help you bonus veren siteler with those things and we’ll get you settled in.”

She was dressed in the same blue denim jeans but wore a white blouse that nicely showed off her cleavage which strained a little against the open buttons. As she bent down for one of the bags, her breasts bulged against the fabric, revealing for a moment, a lacy white bra.

A door at the back of the house groaned open and a young University aged girl stepped into the hallway. She had her mother’s blonde hair and slim body.

“Oh Becky,” Anna said in delight, “this is Luke, our new guest.”

I smiled and she reciprocated with the same enthusiasm that her mother had shown. If God was ever to smile on me, and I can attest that it did on precious few occasions, then I think that he must have done so at that moment. Becky wore a loose T-shirt under which I could see the unfettered sway of her breasts. Clearly, the women in this house were head-strong and dressed as they pleased. Beneath the T-shirt, she wore teal coloured gym leggings that nicely outlined her athletic legs and smooth mound where they met.

“Nice to meet you,” she said shyly, although a twinkle in her eyes belied the all together innocent girl look.

“Grab a bag, Becky,” Anna said, “and let’s get these things upstairs.”

Anna skipped up the stairs with the vigour of someone half her age and Becky followed suit. The pair made an attractive sight as they mounted each stair, each swaying seductively on wide well proportioned hips.

The room was as we had left it, bar the window that had been left open to disperse the previously musty smell. They left me to unpack, excusing themselves and bouncing down the stairs on the same creaky floorboards. On the bottom landing and almost out of earshot, I heard the reverberations of muted conversation and a giggle that I guessed came from Becky, followed by a more urgent ‘Shush’ and then silence. I wondered what the girls were discussing…

I had almost finished unpacking when a soft, almost inaudible knock came from the door.

“Come in,” I answered and a moment later a short man with whispy balding hair let himself in. He had the ruddy complexion of someone who had struggled up the stairs.

“Good morning,” he said with a sly well-oiled voice, “my name is Brandon.”

He smiled but the smile never reached his beady eyes. He wore a grey suit with a matching grey waistcoat t that struggled to keep his corpulent belly in check. He held out a limp, but perfectly manicured hand and I took it.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, “my name is Luke.”

“Yes, I know,” he said dismissively, “students… well I guess we were all one once. So Anna says you’re studying medicine?” He put great emphasis on the word ‘medicine’ as if it was a badge of honour not to be sullied by the likes of me. “I’m a doctor myself, Cambridge educated and St Barts trained. I consult in the city. You may have heard of me? Brandon Fielding? I have an office at the University.”

I hadn’t heard of him but rather than upset our fledgling relationship, I nodded non-committally.

Unimpressed he continued, “Well I see you’re settling in, so just to make sure we understand each other, I’d like to set out a few ground rules. I don’t expect that my wife has covered these?” He paused for my response, but on receiving none, he continued with a slightly bored expression, “In my estimation, women are good for one thing only, and by golly that applies to Anna as much as any woman, so I don’t expect that she mentioned to you that if we’re all to get along, then there are restrictions on guests.”

I didn’t make a sound as his unblinking eyes bored into me. He dabbed a linen handkerchief to his perspiring face and continued, his flabby jowls and double chin wobbling as he spoke, “No friends after 9 pm, and no girls at all. Period. I hope I make myself clear on that point. The bathroom is free at 8 pm for 15 minutes, and most important of all, rent is paid in full, 1-month in advance.

Again there was silence as he regarded me. I felt exposed under his fixed stare and was relieved when he finally filled the void, “So, I trust that meets with your satisfaction.”

It wasn’t a question – more an expectation, that I suspected was rarely challenged.

“Ermm, yes,” I said, the words stumbled out as lame as a horse with laminitis.

“Good,” he said in that affected way that the upper class sometimes use when addressing their house staff. “Then I trust we shall all get along.”

He turned and the little man with the self-importance of a D-listed celebrity left the room.

A gust of wind blew in through the window and as I closed it, I was greeted by storm clouds marching in from the west. By the time evening had struck they had arrived in full force, beating down on the roof and lighting up the sky in a majestic show of fireworks. I studied by the desk easily committing to memory the anatomy of the male reproductive system in preparation bedava bahis for a test. I reviewed the textbook images noting how the external penis was clad in a thick sheet of muscle that continued on as the internal portion within the pelvis. It was richly innervated with its sensitive musculature blending with the external anal sphincter muscles making an orgasm a shared experience for both organs. Satisfied that I could imagine a three dimensional model of the turgid penis and rotate it in my mind from any angle, together with the underlying nerves and blood vessels, I fell into my bed. I slept fitfully though, due to the howling of the wind in the eaves and was suddenly awakened by something smashing. I couldn’t tell what it was but a moment later I heard raised voices coming from the room below.

“Fool of a woman.”

Brandon’s disembodied words reverberated up through the floorboards together with heavy footsteps as he paced back and forth. “What were you thinking of? 150? I should put you out on the streets to whore it all back.”

There was a crack followed by half-muted sobs.

“On the bed woman.”

Another crack and a cry this time followed by the sound of linen ripping.

“Keep it down woman, you’re pathetic enough without waking the whole damned neighbourhood,” Brandon snapped.

“You can do whatever you want,” an urgent voice pleaded. “Just don’t hurt me again.”

My heart lurched and cold fear gripped me just as I knew it must be gripping Anna.

“Don’t pride yourself, there’s nothing that I want.”

Urgent whispering was followed by creaking floorboards and then a substantial sound as if something heavy had fallen against the door.

My ears strained against the silence, desperate to know if Anna was hurt. A moment later a door opened and heavy thuds receded down the stairs followed by the jangle of keys in the lock.


Panic pitted in my stomach sending bile into my mouth as I put an ear to the carpet trying to listen out for Anna, for any sign of life. A minute turned into two and then to my relief the soft bleating of a woman trying to regain control of herself filtered up from below.

My initial fear was now subsumed by cold anger. Common wisdom told me not to get entangled in another person’s marriage but Anna was slight of frame, maybe 5 foot 5 inches tall. Brandon, whilst short himself, was a lumbering bear of a man with thick arms and broad shoulders. I felt sick and overcoming thoughts of impropriety I opened my bedroom door a fraction. The house was dark but a flare of lightning illuminated the landing below me, just enough to get my bearings and I sneaked downstairs. I crossed the landing and paused outside Anna’s door. Gathering my wits I gently knocked. The dark house returned nothing but a vacant silence and with a quivering heart, I knocked again.

A small voice called out, “Come in.”

I opened the door and stepped inside. The light hurt my eyes but as they focused I saw Anna sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were wide and puffy and her nightgown torn, revealing her breasts which she tried to cover with one hand. Bright tears welled on her lids forming little streaks running down her cheeks. With her free hand, she attempted to wave me away, but ignoring her humiliation and embarrassment, I sat down beside her.

“You shouldn’t see me like this,” she whimpered between stifled sobs.

Looking instead at the wall as if there was another world that she could escape to, she said, “Please go, I feel so ashamed.”

A lump formed in my throat at seeing her in this state, and not knowing what to do, I said, “I’m so sorry.”

Some instinct must have possessed me because, despite her semi-nakedness, I put my arms around her shivering shoulders and cradled the soft blonde locks of her head. Her body froze as if shocked and then after a few moments she surrendered herself to me and began to cry.

Great sobs, interrupted by little sniffles as she tried to collect herself racked her body, and between gasps, she cried, “I’m so frightened. It’s been like this for years. Never knowing what mood he’s going to be in. Always scared people will find out. I just told myself, all I have to do is hang on until Becky goes to University.”

She buried herself in my chest and I kissed her head like a father would kiss a crying child with a cut knee.

“It’s going to be OK,” I said numbly. “I won’t let him hurt you again.”

I held her until her snuffles had dried up. She looked into my eyes and made a sad face, then she hugged me. I pulled her to me, feeling the warmth of her naked breasts against my chest.

“Let’s get you to bed, you’ll feel better in the morning and then we can talk,” I said.

She smiled and then laughed, “Oh God, how ridiculous you must think I am. Another stupid housewife in another stupid marriage.”

I wiped her fresh tears away with my thumbs and said, “You’re not stupid. Don’t think like that.”

I kissed her on the forehead and switched off the deneme bonus light as I let myself out of her room.


I woke the following morning to the bright chirrups of sparrows bickering in the tall privet hedges that surrounded the back garden. With a start, I realised that it was a little after 8.30 am, and so I pulled on a pair of trousers and shirt, gulped down a slug of black coffee and raced off to college. I returned at 5 pm after a gruelling day of medicine, anatomy and surgery studies to find the house strangely quiet. I called out Anna’s name, but when no reply was forthcoming, I began to explore the downstairs rooms. Anna had given me free rein of the house, but even so, I felt a little awkward wandering down the hall and into the kitchen knowing that her husband may not share her point of view. The aroma of roast chicken welcomed me as I opened the kitchen door. The kitchen was modern with cream lacquered panels, a range oven and paired fridge and freezer units sitting side-by-side like twins. I opened the back door and spied Anna lying on a deckchair sunning herself in the afternoon heat.

“Hi there,” she beamed. “Hard day?”

She seemed quite recovered from the previous night and not wanting to sour the conversation I replied, “Just a bit, eight hours straight of lectures and practicals.”

She wore a plain pink two-piece bikini that allowed her more than ample breasts to loll to each side as she reclined on the deckchair. Her nipples made little bullets through the fabric and the low cut bikini bottom was all the proof I needed that she shaved her pussy.

“Where is everyone?” I continued.

“Well,” she said, “that’s a bit of a loaded question, but, Brandon is staying at friends.” She made air quotes around the word ‘friends’. “Which is code for he’s probably fucking some trollop at the hospital.”

She said the words brightly as if she was disembodied from their reality, treating the subject like yesterday’s news.

“I mean I guess he must be fucking someone right if he doesn’t fuck me?”

Her candour was sexy and I couldn’t help myself warm to her dark humour. I noted that her stomach was admirably flat for a woman of her age and had a youthful navel piercing nestling a little diamond. Her waist tapered into long legs that were absent-mindedly splayed revealing the impression of her vulval lips

“And Becky is with her friends,” she continued without missing a beat. “I asked if it would be OK if she stayed a few nights until everything settled down again. She knows how her dad can be sometimes.”

She looked back at me from behind dark sunglasses. I saw dark welts around her eyes and arms, but not worried that I had noticed her bruises or indeed the bounties of her body, she maintained a constant trickle of words and lay there as if for my pleasure and delectation.

“So that just leaves the two of us,” she finally said, glancing at her watch and standing up.

“Which reminds me, it’s time for dinner. It’s chicken,” she announced.

I followed her back into the house where she put on a light summer robe and began to fuss with the oven.

“Dinner will be ready in 15 minutes.”

“With me?” I asked, unsure who she could be referring to.

“Yes of course, silly. I’m not going to eat all this on my own, and besides, I feel like some company.”

I grabbed a shower, to rid myself of the day’s class as much as freshen up, and changed into summer shorts and a T-shirt. Ten minutes later I was back downstairs.

“Open that wine will you?” she said, pointing to the bottle of red on the table.

I duly obliged and poured us both a glass.

“Oh that won’t do,” she said on seeing the polite portions I had poured, “tonight I need a bit more than that.”

She took the bottle and poured another measure until the wine settled just a fraction below the rim. She paused as if in thought and then poured an extra measure into my glass too. I looked at her quizzically.

“Well you are a student after all,” she laughed.

We ate dinner in the kitchen and sipped wine as she regaled me with the story of her past. She had met Brandon at Cambridge. To use her words, she was a virgin and knew nothing of the real world. She had been a first-year marine biology student, top of her class and had a promising future, but then she had met Brandon. He was studying medicine and was already in his third year. His charm and self-confidence had been an intoxicating mix that had quickly seen them become lovers. After that, she dropped out of school and spent the next two years cleaning his flat and his underwear. Shortly after Brandon’s graduation, they had become husband and wife. It was only then that Brandon revealed the true nature of his dark personality.

“Of course, I should have known better,” she said, “even back then there were the tell-tale signs. Girls from other dorms would drape themselves over him, even in front of me, but I ignored it all. I didn’t believe that he could be seeing other women. I was stupid, stupid, stupid.”

The words stung me but I kept my peace waiting for her full story.

“Stupid to believe that he loved me. I realise now, too late, that all I ever was, was an appendage for his ego, and all the while, he fucked every nurse in Christendom.”

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