I was twenty one, a management trainee.  She was probably twice my age, and the company's internal auditor.  I had met her when she came to the branch where I worked.  Everybody fancied her, everybody feared her.  Her nickname was The Ice Queen and there was no doubting her attractiveness , despite the business suits, thick rimmed glasses and severe hairstyle.  The rumour was that she liked fresh meat, but nobody could confirm it.

We were at the company's Christmas bash.  The entire hotel had been taken over for the evening and night.  We each had a room, spouses were included.  I didn't have one.  Nor apparently did she, although she wore a wedding ring.

although they expected their pound of flesh, the company was fair and generous.  My boss had taken me under his wing, I was his protégé.  A few days before the event, he had said,

“Some people let their hair down a little too far at this do, sometimes to their detriment, the bosses never stop watching.  Don't drink too much, particularly the free wine, it's rubbish.”

The wine was free, and abundant.  Beer and spirits had to be paid for. She, Hazel, was on the same table as me for dinner, and when we moved into the lounge bar, the table groups tended to stay as a group.  Many of them were the worse for wear already.  Hazel appeared to have let her hair down, literally.  Beautiful auburn hair cascaded to her shoulders, a body hugging dark green dress emphasised her curves.  Definitely a Milf.

She had appointed herself drinks monitor, and made sure everybody's wine glass was always full.  Mindfull of my bosses advice, mine didn't need much topping.  More often than not,  I put my hand over the glass when a top-up was offered.  I noticed that she too, drank sparingly.  I was bored.  It was about ten o’clock.  Hazel did the rounds with the bottle.  When she got to me, she said softly,

“Twenty minutes, room three four seven.”

What?

She put the bottle on the table and said,

“I'm done.  Goodnight people.”

She glanced at me and left.  I don't think anybody even noticed.  I checked my watch.  At that age, I would fuck anything, I would certainly fuck Hazel.  But was I making the biggest mistake of my career?  Had I misheard?  Was I really being invited to the Ice Palace?  To melt The Queen's ice?  But to reject her could be equally disastrous, my monarch had commanded.  Besides, I had a throbbing erection.

After a few minutes, I muttered,

“Little boys room.”

And feigning intoxication, staggered away from the crowd.  In fact I went to my room, also on the third floor, and had the quickest shower of my life.  I was a bit late, but tapped nervously on the door of room 347.  She took her time to answer, which did nothing to settle my nerves.

The door opened, she checked to see that there was nobody else in the corridor, then ushered me in.  She was wearing the robe provided by the hotel.  She put an arm round my neck and kissed me, I had never experienced a kiss like that.  She broke the kiss and undid my belt, saying,

“Let's see what you've got.”

I pulled away and said,

“What about your husband?”

She looked confused.

“What about him?  He's not here.”

“Well, you're a married woman, I thought…”

“He's not here, I need fucking now.”

I had the grandfather of all hardons, but still thought that this might be some kind of test, a windup even.

“Why me?”

“Why not?  Your not gay are you?”

I shook my head.

“I've been watching you.  You were not drinking, you seem sensible and young men have more stamina.  Women have needs, even we milfs.”

She undid the belt of her robe and let it fall.  She was naked.

“Do you want it, or do you prefer to wank?”

“I want it.”

“Then let's see what you've got.”

She continued undressing me, unzipped me, pushed both my pants and underpants down and allowed my erection to spring free.

“Yes, I think you do.”

She said.  She held me by the cock and led me to the bed, me shuffling, hobbled by my pants.  Between us, we quickly removed my clothes.  We kissed some more with me on my back and her above and I availed myself of her fine tits, then she moved down and went straight for my cock, taking it in her hand and examining it.  In herself inverted position I had access to her arse, fondling each cheek before going for the prize, her cunt was dripping with her honey.

As I groped, she gently pulled back my foreskin, revealing the moist knob.  A teardrop of clear liquid at its tiny mouth, which she whisked away with her tongue, tasting it like she was tasting wine.  She seemed to approve.  She kissed her way along the underside ridge and sucked each ball into her mouth, a pleasure that I had never before experienced.  Then she licked my arsehole causing me to squirm uncomfortably, had I washed carefully enough?  I had never experienced that either.

She seemed to approve, showing her approval by rimming my arse and pushing her tongue inside.  Then she turned her attention to my cock, taking it deep, lips on my balls before releasing enough of it to be able to take it in hand.  I had been sucked on numerous occasions previously, but this woman was an expert, my treasure had never been worshipped like this.

“You're going to make me come.”

I warned her, not wanting to risk her displeasure.  In my admittedly limited experience, women have there own ideas about this.  I had enjoyed being sucked to completion, but the first time it happened, I did not warn my fellatrice, spilling my load into her mouth.  She was furious.  Since then I have been more careful.  But Hazel took her mouth away for just long enough to say,

“I'm depending on it.”

It was my first come of the day, and I did not disappoint.  I groaned as my tribute flooded her mouth, she sucked and swallowed at the same time, clearly enjoying the experience.  Satisfied that I was drained, at least for now, she turned the right way up and gave me a spunky kiss, saying,

“Best meal I've had all day.”

She laid on her back and I took the initiative, kissing her fondling and kissing her tits, sucking the large stiff nipples, allowing my hand to slide below to her parted legs and fingering her wet cunt.  My cock was still rigid, ready for more.

“May I lick  you?”

I asked.

“You certainly may, but fuck me first.  Let me do you, lie on your back.”

“Do you have…”

I stammered.

“An anti-social disease?  No.”

“I meant a condom.”

She fixed me with her Ice Queen stare.

“That, young man, would be like drinking champagne from a paper cup, take what's offered or leave now.”

She straddled me and lowered herself onto my cock, leaned forward and kissed me, tits brushing my chest.  I was not sure about licking her cunt after I had fucked her, licking a spunky cunt?  It would be another first.  I had never been inside a woman without a condom.  ‘Natural feel’, ‘exra thin’, and all that.  Lies.  As Hazel's warm wet cunt enclosed my member, it felt like I had gone to heaven.

She practically fucked me, I allowed my hands to roam her body, when she was sitting upright, her tits, when she leaned forward, her arse.  She reached back and placed my fingers against the pucker of her arse.  The message couldn't have been clearer.  Her arsehole was wet and slippery with her own juice, a fingertip entered easily, then another.  I pushed inside, I could feel my own cock inside her.  Her orgasm was so powerful it surprised me.  My second delivery spurted into her while she was coming, the knowledge that my juice was pumping into her and not into a rubber bag, mixing with her own copious offering, blew my mind.

She stayed mounted, hands flat on my chest, her chest rising and falling as her breathing fought back to normal, her tits shining with sweat.  I was in love.

She stayed like that until my cock softened and slipped out, then walked on her knees until she was astride my face, cunt gaping, my spunk and her own juice dripping from it like icicles from The Ice Queens cunt.  But these icicles were warm, the ice had melted.  Like it or not, I was about to lick her clean.

She lowered herself, queening me.  At first I could only taste myself.  Yes I had tasted it before.  But as I lapped, her taste replaced mine.  Rich.  The taste of a mature woman.  I reached up to hold her tits as I licked, but my erection had returned and was demanding attention.  I left one hand to deal with her tits, and wrapped my other hand around my sticky shaft, unable to resist wanking myself.

I had enough experience to know where her clit was located, I sucked and licked it, then remembering the pleasure that I felt when she had rimmed my arsehole, returned the favour.  Her body shook as her second orgasm racked her.

She rolled onto her back and lay beside me, panting.  When she recovered, she said,

“That was nice, beats wanking doesn't it?”

I muttered my agreement.  She had had enough, she dismissed me, saying,

“You can fuck off now, I need my beauty sleep.  And this never happened.  Sleep well.”