My best friend’s mom is hot, I mean smoking hot, and she knows it. She walks around in bikinis that showcase her long legs, tight ass and big tits; she also dresses up often in pantyhose and short skirts that have all of us guys drooling. Every one of Barry’s friends call her a MILF, much to Barry’s chagrin, and each of us have shot a ton of cum out of our cocks fantasizing about her.

For me, fantasy became reality this summer.

Sandra, Barry’s mom, asked me if I could help her build a new shed for their back yard. I, of course, said yes, for a few reasons:

1. She offered me good money to do it.
2. It was what I did, build things and I could do it a lot cheaper and faster than a company could.
3. I would be around her house every day for three weeks or so.
4. I hoped to get to fuck her…even though it still seemed like a far-fetched dream.

She suggested I start the second week of July, which happily coincided with Barry would be gone on a two week hiking trip with his father (a dumb ass who divorced Sandra a few years ago…no one can fathom why). I, of course, agreed and shot a load in her honour every day until I started working for her.

The week before I started, I got to see her every day as I brought over designs for the shed. Every day she would suggest changes that required me to bring back a different design. She dressed in sundresses every day, or a t-shirt and short shorts that almost no adult should wear…except her. It was like she was taunting me to take her, even though she had always dressed like this…something I believe frustrated her jealous ex-husband.

Anyway, we finally agreed on a design and as I left she said, “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you better, Evan.”

“Me too,” I nodded, realizing my response didn’t even make sense.

She smiled her dazzling, knee buckling smile, and added, “Be warned it’s supposed to be a hundred degrees all week.”

“I will dress appropriately,” I shrugged.

She winked, the first hint of her ulterior motives, “I’m not sure I will.”

Just then Barry came downstairs and we headed out for one last night of partying before he went on his trip…oblivious to the fact that I was hoping that while he was gone I would get to fuck his mother.

I arrived as scheduled at eight the following morning and was greeted by Sandra, in a robe, clearly having just gotten up. I could see a little of her ample cleavage, and briefly fantasized just tugging her robe open and devouring her right then and there. That said, I wanted to take my time, to be sure I had read the many signs of her interest in me right…it would be humiliating and potentially friendship ending if I was wrong.

She sent me out back where the supplies had all arrived the day before, and I started working. I was a couple hours in when she first came out to check on me. Dressed in a two piece bikini that showcased every curve of her perfect body, my cock instantly woke up in my shorts.

She asked, “How’s it coming?”

I answered, (ignoring playing on the word coming even though it was tempting, instead using the words my dad always did when asked a similar question, “Slow and steady.”

She said, “Going for a swim. Feel free to join me if you like.”

“Not at the moment, ma’am,” I nodded, because I knew if I did I would be done for the day.

“It’s Sandra,” she corrected. “My mother is ma’am.”

“Of course, Sandra,” I nodded, watching her turn around and dive fluidly into the pool.

The next half hour was a constant distraction as I tried to work, while nearby the most beautiful MILF in the world swam laps.

When she got out, it was as if in slow motion, like in that classic 80s movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High, where Phoebe Cates comes out of the pool. My cock again got hard, as she grabbed a towel and asked, “Would you like a lemonade?”

“Sure,” I agreed, wanting her to come back outside, and actually quite thirsty. I also took this time to take off my shirt and showcase my upper body which is very toned.

I worked for a couple of minutes until she returned with a glass of lemonade. She was still in her two piece swim suit and complimented, “Looking good.”

“How can you tell, it’s just a few pieces of wood scattered about?” I joked.

“I wasn’t talking about the shed,” she said, matter-of-factly, before smiling and turning and going back over to the pool, then sitting on a lounge chair.

I reluctantly returned to work. I wasn’t working two minutes, when she called, “Evan, would you be a dear and come give me a hand for a moment.”

“Sure,” I called back wiping my hands on my shorts and going over to her.

She was applying lotion on her body when I reached her. She asked, “Would you please put some lotion on my neck and back?”

It was every teen boy’s fantasy to put suntan lotion on a hot MILF. I, of course, said, “Sure, I’d love to.”

She handed me the lotion, rolled onto her stomach and I sat down beside her. “Could you also undo my bikini top? I don’t want a tan line for my niece’s wedding in a couple of weeks.”

I wondered what outfit she could possibly be wearing that such a tan line would be seen, but I agreed like any horny boy would, “Of-of-of course.”

The bikini easily fell aside and I could now see the sides of her voluptuous breasts. I thought about going for broke right then and there, but decided to just play along, sensing that the inevitable was close. I thoroughly covered her neck, shoulders and back with lotion, massaging gently while I did. She let out a soft moan as I moved lower, to just above her ass.

Deciding to continue to add to the slow seduction we were both performing on each other, I asked, “Aren’t you worried about tan lines on your bottom too?”

“Should I be?” She asked back, playfully.

“Just asking,” I countered, in an attempt to be flirtatious, “I’m not sure what the proper tan line etiquette is honestly.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she said back, lifting up her hips and surprising even me. I watched as she tugged the strings and uncovered her tight ass.

“Agreed,” I barely got out, my fantasy MILF now naked in front of me.

“Can you do my torso area, too?” She asked.

“If you insist,” I agreed, my already hard cock begging for release in my tight shorts. Although I am a confident guy with the ladies, I felt my hands trembling as I poured lotion on her ass and began rubbing it in. It was surreal, and I made sure to lotion her whole ass and down her thighs a bit.

As I was about to finish she said, “Be sure to get my ass crack, hate to have a tan line there.”

“That would be mortifying,” I quipped back, as I coated my finger and put lotion between her ass cheeks. I was so tempted to slide my fingers further between her ass cheeks, all the way to her back door, or to attempt to slide my fingers to her pussy in the small window that existed between her legs…I couldn’t see her pussy, but I did have access to it if I could just get the nerve to take the risk.

As I contemplated all the things I could do to my best friend’s mother, she ended the brief moment of teenage fantasy, “Thanks, sweetie.”

I stammered, drawn back to reality, “N-n-no problem.”

I stood up, stared at her naked beauty briefly, and returned to work, adjusting my cock as I walked.

The next hour, I worked and tried not to spend too much time staring at the naked perfection lying nearby.

Around eleven, she put her bikini top and bottom back on, and wordlessly went back in the house. I was frustrated that I never got a full look at her rack or her pussy. I assumed a woman like her kept it trimmed or shaved, but inquiring minds want to know.

The sexual tension already high in just the first morning, it seemed obvious we both wanted the same thing. I worked the next hour relentlessly, beating my sexual frustrations away, and was just getting ready to go and pick something up for lunch when she came back out, now dressed in a sun dress, five inch heels and, shocking in today’s heat, pantyhose…which is my fetish. Although she is a beautiful woman, I always loved how she often wore pantyhose while in the house, even under her jeans.

“I’m heading out for a while,” she announced.

“I see,” I nodded, asking, “Isn’t it a little hot for pantyhose?”

“Isn’t a little too hot to be wearing a shirt?” She countered.

I laughed, “I just put it on a couple of minutes ago. I was about to go and get a bite to eat and most restaurants have that whole no shirt, no service rule.”

“Such a pity,” she shrugged. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, I left my cell number on the kitchen table in case you need anything.”

“I should be all right,” I shrugged.

“I do mean anything,” she repeated, stressing the word ‘anything’.

“Good to know,” I nodded back, the chess game of sexual seduction continuing.

I watched her leave and followed a couple of minutes later.

I didn’t see her again all afternoon until I was finishing up at around five. I went inside and saw she was on her couch, her stocking-clad feet on the table, her toenails painted purple which was hot, as she watched CNN.

She turned around, hearing me, and asked, “Done for the day?”

“I think so,” I answered, still focusing on her long legs and pretty feet.

“Why don’t you take a seat and visit for a bit?” She offered.

“I’m all dirty and sweaty,” I replied, not wanting to wreck her white furniture.

“I bet you are,” she quipped, the words dripping with sexual implication.

“I need a shower,” I admitted.

“I think I have one of those upstairs,” she smiled playfully.

“Do you?” I joked.

“I have two, actually,” she added, “although the one upstairs in my room has better water pressure.”

“Good to know,” I nodded.

“Go shower,” she ordered, “and I will order some food. I hate eating alone and with Barry gone all week…it’s awful lonely here.”

The offer too good to reject, the likelihood of something happening later growing greater by the moment, I agreed. “Sure, although I don’t have any clean clothes.”

“I’ll get you some,” she said.

I began walking towards the bathroom on the main floor, but she repeated the suggestion, “Go use my shower.”

“Okay,” I agreed, my cock again fully stiff in my pants with anticipation.

I went to her room, to the bathroom, quickly got undressed and jumped in the shower. I wasn’t in there more than a couple of minutes when I heard her voice. “Like the water pressure?”

I froze, ironically lathering my cock at the moment. I finally said, “Yes, it’s very powerful.”

“It’s all steamy in here, you must like it hot,” she quipped, every word dripping with flirtation.

“That I do,” I responded, not being able to see her making it easier to flirt back.

“Do you need any help?” She asked, as she shocked me by joining me in the shower, unfortunately no longer in pantyhose.

My hand around my cock, I again froze…I was now starring at my very naked MILF fantasy…who was completely shaven and even more perfect than I had fantasized.

“Is that for me?” She asked, looking down at my fully erect and still sudsy eight inch cock. “It’s even bigger than I thought it would be.”

I couldn’t talk. I wanted to say something witty like I would to any of the teen sluts I fucked and often dominated, yet I was speechless.

“I’ll take your inability to speak as a yes,” she smiled, dropping to her knees and taking my cock in her hand.

I gasped…my long-held fantasy finally coming true.

As if reading my mind, she asked, “I bet you have fantasized about this moment for a long time, haven’t you Evan?”

I stammered, “Y-y-yes.”

“Did you fantasize this?” She asked, as she learned forward and took my cock in her mouth.

I groaned, “Forever.”

I had never had sex in the shower before, but watching her bob up and down on my cock as water sprayed on us was exhilarating.

Sadly, with the fantasy coming true, and her mouth such pure perfection, I lasted just over a minute before I warned, “I’m going to come.”

Her response was to bob faster and deep throat all eight inches of my cock. It was too much and I spewed my load down her eager throat. She didn’t slow down until every last drop was deposited. Once done, she stood up and said, “What a delicious appetizer.”

Before I could speak, she got out of the shower and added, “I left some clothes for you to put on.”

“Uh, thanks,” I said, bewildered by what had just transpired and by the fact that just as quickly as she had joined me, she had left.

I finished showering in a hurry and got out. On the toilet was a speedo…nothing else. I shook my head amused, dried off and put on the speedo which left nothing to the imagination.

Walking out, I couldn’t find her anywhere. Eventually, I went outside and saw she was in the pool again. She waved me over, “Come for a dip.”

I joked, finally my old confidence back, “Oh, I think I plan to do more than just dip; I plan to do some deep drilling.”

She smiled, “I hope you’re not all talk, no action.”

I joined her in the pool and aggressively kissed her. She responded back with her tongue in my mouth and her hand going directly to my cock, which was already stiff again.

I began cupping her big tits through her thin bikini top. Breaking the kiss, I sat up on the edge of the pool and ordered, “Suck me.”

“Didn’t I already do that?” She asked coyly.

“I want to watch those sexy lips worship my cock,” I said, looking down at her.

“You’re really a naughty boy,” she teased, as she tugged my speedo down.

“And you’re a really sexy slut,” I counted, feeling confident name calling would turn her on.

Once my speedo was off, she devoured my cock, bobbing like many of the teenage sluts who tried to impress me. The difference was she didn’t gag, or slow down, and she got all of me in her mouth.

As she sucked, I told her, “I plan to make you my personal MILF fuck toy all summer, my slut.”

“Mmmmmmm,” she moaned on my cock, not slowing down at all.

After a couple more minutes of watching my MILF fantasy suck cock just as I had envisioned she could, I ordered, “Get naked.”

She took my cock out of her mouth and quickly got out of her bikini top and bottom, tossing both at me…with a devious smile.

I got back in the pool, lifted her up, and slowly lifted her onto my cock.

“Oh God, you’re so strong,” she giggled when I picked her up and she gasped as she realized my intentions as I awkwardly lowered her on my cock. “Oh fuck, I love a man who takes charrrrge.”

“And I love a beautiful woman who understands her place,” I replied, as my cock slowly, the water a great defensive barrier to getting inside her, penetrated her.

“You think I’m beautiful?” She asked, smiling.

“You’re the hottest MILF I know,” I replied, as my mushroom top finally slid inside her.

“Ohhhhh,” she moaned, as I entered her. “I’ve wanted you forever.”

“I know,” I smugly replied, before adding, “I’ve been fantasizing this moment for a long time.”

As my whole cock filled her, she moaned, “Do you know how many times I pleasured myself while you were over, wishing you would sneak into my room and just take me.”

“About as many times as I imagined it,” I quipped back, as I began to fuck her while still holding her.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, “you really are sooooo strong.”

I kept fucking her, even as holding her got gruelling, wanting to impress her. After a few minutes of fucking her she began talking dirty to me: “Fuck, I love your cock,” and “Drill my cunt,” and “Fill my cunt with that big snake of yours,” and “I can’t believe we waited this long,” and “God I love your big cock.”

It was amazing having my fantasy come true, but even hotter hearing her talk so nastily.

Finally my arms burned and I slid out of her as she whined, “No, keep fucking me.”

Deciding to let her do the work for a while, plus wanting to watch those tits bounce, I ordered, as I got out of the pool and sat down on a lounge chair, “Come straddle me.”

She got out of the pool, stared at my completely at attention cock, and joked, “If I ride you I think the whole neighbourhood will hear my screams.”

“Then let the whole neighbourhood hear you scream,” I shrugged.

“You really are a dirty boy,” she smiled, as she straddled me and lowered herself onto my cock.

“And you love it,” I smirked, “Don’t you?”

“God, yessssss,” she moaned as she engulfed my cock.

“I want to see those tits bouncing,” I ordered, as all my cock disappeared inside her cunt.

“You’re a tit man?” She asked, as she cupped them and leaned forward for them to be in my face.

“I’m a tits, cunt, ass and legs man,” I countered, as I took her erect left nipple in my mouth, while simultaneously slapping her ass. “Now ride me, my slut.”

“Yes, sir,” she moaned, as I bit her nipple and she began riding my cock.

I moved from left to right, replicating the nipple attention before leaning back and ordering, “Sit up straight, I want to see that body shake.”

She smiled, “So eloquent.”

I smiled as I watched her ride and bounce. Her tits were perfect as were the moans of pleasure coming from her pursed lips. There is nothing hotter than a woman in the quest for pleasure. Her eyes show hunger, her mouth shows pleasure and her body gives into the lust.

Her moans continued to get louder and I knew she was close to coming when I began bucking up to meet her downward movements.

“Fuuuuuck, yesss,” she screamed, the first time I met her movements.

“Come, my slut,” I grunted, continuing to buck up to meet her.

“God, yes, Evan, I love your cock so fuckiiiing much,” she declared loudly.

“And I love having my own personal fuck toy,” I declared back.

“Oh yes, make me your slutttttt,” she moaned loudly, her breathing getting erratic.

Wanting to fuck her to orgasm, I used my strength to grab her, flip her over like a rag doll, and grab her ankles. With her legs high up in the air I slammed back into her cunt.

“Oh fuuuuuuuck,” she screamed, as I reached new depths inside her hot box. “Oh yes, give me that big dick.”

I obliged, slamming into her.

“Oh fuck, yes, pound me,” she continued, her breathing heavy.

“Are you close?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“Ready to erupttttt,” she moaned.

“I’m going to come in that slut box of yours,” I warned, curious for her reaction.

“Yes, baby, fill my fuck hole with your cum baby, I want it sooo bad,” she replied, as I let go of her ankles. She wrapped her legs around me and began trying to pull me in deeper.

I held back from coming, wanting to climax simultaneously with her, then demanded, “Come, my slut, come for me.”

Her hand slapped her clit and in seconds she screamed, loud enough to not only make her neighbours aware, but to wake the dead, “Yes, you mother fuckerrrrrrrr.”

I grunted too, letting my cum spray inside her, as I thought to myself I was indeed a mother fucker, “Here it comes, sluttttttt.”

I pumped my cum inside her, even as she continued quaking with her own orgasm. “Oh fuck, you’re soooo good,” she moaned.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” I smiled, as I pulled out of her and watched as a mixture of her cum and mine leaked out of her cunt.

“Fuck,” was all she could muster as her body recovered from her orgasm. Finally she said, as my cock finally calmed down, “Maybe we should continue this inside. I’m afraid the neighbours may be wondering if I have been murdered.”

“Or fucked thoroughly,” I quipped.

“Or that, too,” she laughed, standing up.

“You really are fucking hot,” I said, her body so amazing.

“As are you,” she smiled back, putting her hands on my chest.

Suddenly my belly growled, “So did you order food?”

“Still hungry?” She smiled seductively.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” I replied, knowing I had a few loads left in me.

“Fuck I love the recovery time of young men,” she said, stroking my cock.

“If I get hard again before I eat,” I informed her, testing the waters, “the next hole I take is your ass.”

“Is that a promise?” She smiled.

“A one hundred percent guarantee,” I smiled, as I had promised when I said I would have her shed done in three weeks.

“Well, I can’t question such professional dedication,” she flirted, grabbing my hand and leading me into the house.

Once inside, I suggested she order food, which she did. I asked, “I thought you ordered food when I went to shower?”

“I was going to but I decided to just have a cocktail first,” she smiled.

I laughed out loud at her joke, before I snapped my fingers and pointed to my cock. She smirked, “Does that work with the teenage sluts?”

“It works for all sluts who want my cock,” I confidently retorted.

“So it does,” she smiled, as she dropped to her knees in the kitchen and took my cock back in her mouth.

I watched her get my semi-erect cock ready for action before I asked, “Do you have any lube?”

“In the bedroom,” she answered.

“Go get it, I want to fuck you in the kitchen,” I said with authority.

“I want you to fuck me in every room of this house,” she countered, standing up.

“That is a wish I think I can grant,” I smiled, thinking how surreal it would be to fuck my friend’s mom in his bed or on the couch downstairs where we often played ps4.

When she returned, she handed me the lube and asked, “Where do you want me?”

“Bend over the kitchen counter,” I pointed.

She obeyed, and I generously lubed her asshole and my cock. I had only fucked a few girls in the ass and all but one did it reluctantly. The idea that she wanted it in the ass was the ultimate turn-on as I went 3 for 3 in her holes. I moved behind her, spread her ass cheeks apart, and slid my cock, into her ass…her very sexy ass.

She moaned, “Mmmmmm, that’s it sexy, fill my ass with that big dick of yours.”

“Already am,” I moaned myself, her ass so fucking tight.

Once all in, I slowly began moving back and forth, trying to widen her asshole.

She moaned, “That’s it, take my ass, stud.”

“You’re an even bigger slut than I imagined,” I groaned, as I continued the slow pumps.

“And your cock is even bigger than I imagined,” she countered, “and I have imagined it a LOT.”

“As I have you,” I admitted.

“Don’t make love to my ass,” she demanded, “fuck the shit out of it.”

I laughed out loud at her hilarious words, but again obliged, as I grabbed her hips and began slamming into her.

“Oh God, yessss,” she screamed, as I went deep inside her.

“You like that?” I questioned.

“Fucking love it,” she replied, “make me your ass slut.”

“That I will,” I agreed, continuing to slam into her.

I had fucked her hard for fifteen minutes having already come twice, this was going to be a marathon fuck when she asked, “Can I ride you?”

“Sure,” I agreed, curious what she had in mind.

I pulled out, she pushed me onto a kitchen chair, turned her back to me before straddling me and asked, “Can you hold me up?”

“Of course,” I nodded, as she put her feet on my legs while I held her waist, and then lowered herself onto my cock, taking it, amazingly, back in her ass.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” she screamed, as my cock disappeared in her ass again.

This position created a whole new sensation and as she rode my cock, in only a couple of minutes in this position, I could feel my balls boiling.

She frantically was rubbing her clit and she became the first woman I have ever ass fucked who came from it as she screamed, leaning back on me with all her weight, “Fucking holy shiiiiiit,” as she reached orgasm again.

I held her firmly as her orgasm coursed through her. When she was done, I ordered, “Finish me with those cocksucking lips.”

“Okay,” she agreed, weakly, her body obviously drained from her two orgasms.

She slid off, turned on the floor, between my legs and took the cock that was just up her ass in her mouth. The act was so hot, so dirty, so sexy, that my balls immediately returned to boil.

In only a couple more minutes of getting blown by this beautiful MILF, I was ready to cum. I ordered, as I pulled out, “Open wide.”

She obeyed looking even more beautiful with her red cheeks and her wide open mouth waiting to catch my cum. I furiously pumped my cock as she continued to talk dirty, “Come all over your slut’s face.”

Yet again I obliged her wishes, as my cum shot out of my cock, the first rope hitting her directly between the eyes, the second on her cheek as her head moved slightly and the third on her chin…most not going into her mouth.

I slid my cock back between her eager lips and was pumping my cock to allow her to retrieve every last remnant of my cum when the doorbell rang.

She froze.

I pulled out and said. “You should probably get that.”

“Can you?” She asked, suddenly mortified by the cum all over her face.

“Actually you can, and keep that cum on your face,” I ordered, loving the power I had over her.

“Seriously?” She questioned, still on her knees.

“Yes.” I nodded, “a good slut obeys without hesitation and has no shame.”

She licked my cockhead and said with a smile, “You’re really a bad boy.”

“And you love it,” I smirked, as the doorbell rang again.

She stood up, “You know I do.”

She grabbed her purse from the table, and a towel that was on the floor from earlier today I assume, wrapped it around her body and went to the door.

I followed and watched from the side, out of view of the delivery person, as she opened the door. She greeted, “Hi. How much?”

The voice stammered, “T-t-twenty-eight seventeen.”

She went through her purse, gave him money and said, “Keep the change.”

“T-t-thanks,” he stammered again.

She took the food and said, “Come again,” before closing the door.

“Come again,” I roared.

“That was aimed more at you,” she smiled, bringing the food to the table.

“Well, I am a cum machine,” I joked.

“And I’m a cum bucket,” she quipped back, as she dropped to her knees and took my cock back in her mouth.

“Mrs. Robinson,” I groaned, “you are insatiable.”

She moaned in response as she deep throated my cock while I pulled the food out of the bag. As I began eating, while getting sucked, I doubted life ever would ever get any better than this.

The post My Best Friend’s Hot Mom appeared first on sexstories.org.

‘I don’t believe it. Gary, I haven’t seen you since you left our little grind joint for Caesar’s. What’s it been, six months? C’mon in but first give me a big hug and a kiss.’
After hugging and kissing, Gary introduces me to his friend. ‘Loretta this is my very good friend, Bobby.’
Bobby took my offered hand and said, ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you Loretta. Gary has told me so many good things about you.’
‘Glad to meet you Bobby. Any friend of Gary’s is always welcome here. Both of you have a seat. Let me get something to drink.’
As I headed toward the kitchen, I paused to ask, ‘What’ll you guys have?’
‘I’ll have a beer.’ ‘Bobby?’
‘I’m fine, thank you.’
‘No, you’re not. Tell you what. I’m going to open a bottle of wine. Would you like a glass?’
‘Sure. Why not?’

Loretta headed into the kitchen of her small apartment. I watched her go. At 5′ 8”, she seemed tall. At least taller than I was used to at the ripe old age of twenty-two. She had a cute face but her skin was dappled and weathered. She had large blue eyes, a turned up pug nose and full lips. She had on shorts and a halter. She had nicely shaped legs but there were patches of surface veining from being on her feet so much. She did have a shapely posterior but there wasn’t much definition at her waist. I determined she must be in her mid to late thirties. In other words she wasn’t bad but I initially thought she looked used.

That was my first impression of the woman that came to wield more influence on me than any woman and helped me develop into the man I am today.

I headed toward the kitchen. ‘Can I open the bottle for you?’

‘Thanks Bobby, but I wouldn’t be much of a cocktail waitress if I couldn’t open a bottle of Beaujolais,’ she said, peeking around the corner from the kitchen. ‘So tell me what good things has Gar told you about me,’ she added with a salacious wink.

‘He said you were smart and could help m–’ Gary interrupted, ‘I said you were nice and friendly. I told him you really know human nature and might be able to help him with his problem.’
I felt myself reddening. ‘Gary, Please! This is embarrassing enough!’
‘Do you want help or not?’ I nodded.
‘Do you want to tell her or me to tell her?’ ‘No, go ahead.’

Loretta smiled and said, ‘Alright already. Someone tell me the big secret.

‘Okay, Bobby was married to his college sweetheart for about sixteen months and then she took off and moved in with a guy.

I added, ‘I was very hurt for a while but now I’m over it.

With Gary’s help I hope to get back in circulation.’

‘Trouble is Bobby is a little backward when it comes to women,’ added Gary, ‘Mary leaving him and moving in with her tennis instructor really shattered his confidence, so I was hoping you could help him. You know, teach him how to act around women, what to say to them, how to make them laugh and how to seduce them.’

I was surprised. Bobby was a handsome, personable young man. Surely he couldn’t have that much trouble finding companionship? I decided I liked Bobby and would try to help him.
‘What makes you think I can help him?’
‘I don’t know. I just have a feeling. You’re friendly, jovial, have a great personality and you said yourself that you know a lot about foreplay and sex.’
I looked at Bobby. ‘Let me ask you a question, Bobby?
Are you a good lover?’ ‘What do you mean?’
‘What I mean, dear Bobby, is, do you consider yourself a good FUCK!’
Bobby turned bright red.
I laughed, ‘Boy, you are a shy one, aren’t you? I’ve got an idea. Did the two of you come together?’
Bobby answered, ‘Yes, I left my car at Gary’s.’
‘Gary, Bobby and I are going to get into some personal matters. Would you be a dear and leave Bobby here tonight and pick him up in the morning? That is if it’s all right with you, Bobby?’
Bobby turned even redder. ‘Ah…yes…I suppose so.’

Gary came over and hugged Bobby. ‘You listen to Loretta. She’ll get you straightened out.’
Then he hugged me and whispered in my ear. ‘He may not tell you this because it embarrasses him. Bobby has trouble getting and staying hard. He needs his confidence restored, if you know what I mean.’
Gary pulled away and said, ‘Take good care of my friend.’
‘You can count on it.’ I replied and winked.
Gary walked to the door and waved to Bobby. Bobby waved back and Gary stepped through the door.
I closed the door behind him and threw the deadbolt.
Bobby was all mine!

Loretta came up to me and said, ‘Bobby there are two ways we can approach this, platonically or intimately.’
I felt myself flush again. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I can be your helpful big sister or your sex therapist.’
My face must have registered confusion, because she continued.
‘To put it bluntly, we can talk or we can fuck and talk.’
I flushed again but this time I felt a stirring in my groin. For the first time I began to look upon Loretta as a potential sex partner and it excited me.
‘Which do you prefer?’ Loretta continued.
‘Can we sit on the couch and see where it leads?’ Why was I fighting it?
She took my hand and I felt a sensation that ran all the way to my penis. She led me to the couch and set me down before sitting next to me. She put her hand on my thigh, sending another shock to my genitals.
‘So tell me, Bobby. What exactly are your goals?’ ‘I want to go back to school and be a –’
She laughed. She had nice laugh.

‘No silly!’ she said interrupting me. ‘What is your goal here – with me. Do you want to be a player, a sexual predator, or get enough confidence and presence to find a girl and settle down again?’
‘I suppose I’d like to be a player until I can find someone special.’
‘Good. Let me ask you this. Your ex-wife left you for another man, right?’
‘Yes, except we’re still married.’
‘Alright, your wife’s cheating on you and it hurts like hell, doesn’t it?
I wondered where she was going. ‘Yes. Why are you bringing this up?’
‘Two reasons. First, if you become a player and then find that special someone, could you stop being a player and be true to that girl?’
‘Oh yeah. That’s the way I am at heart. What’s the second thing?’
‘The second thing depends.’ ‘Depends on what?’
‘If you find me attractive?’ She moved her hand halfway up my thigh, within inches of my growing phallus. I could barely breathe.
‘What difference would it make if I found you attractive.’ ‘We have to work on your naivety. Do you find me
attractive?’ ‘Yes, yes.’
‘Then I’d like you to take your hurt out on me.’
Loretta suddenly left the couch and got on her knees in front of me. She undid my belt, unzipped my jeans and pulled my hard-on out from my briefs.

I thought Bobby would faint as I pulled his cock out from his pants; he was so uptight. Not bad-looking though. Tall and thin, wiry actually, with a boyish grin and a wave of blond hair falling just over his baby blues. This was like seducing a teen. I kept reminding myself that Bobby was a grown-up, even though I was almost twice his age.
His cock was average in size and appearance, standing straight up, awaiting the application of a warm, moist oral cavity. I love sucking cocks. I would never tell Bobby but I must have sucked a couple of hundred. Hey, practice makes perfect! There’s something about having a man’s sex filling up my mouth that drives me crazy. I don’t even mind the semen. In fact Bobby is so clean and sexy, I just might swallow his load.
I wrapped my right hand around the base of his six-inch tool and took the rest of him in my mouth. Bobby jerked around spasmodically while I applied all the sexual wiles I had accumulated in my thirty-seven years. Rotating my hand back and forth upon his staff, my other hand cupped his gonads and squeezed. My tongue flitted over the sensitive underside of his cock.

That’s what I loved about sucking cocks – Bobby was out of control and I, as long as my mouth held his cock, was fully in control.

I couldn’t believe it. Loretta freed my erect penis from the confines of my jeans. Held it in her hand, stroked it a couple times, stopped, stared at it, smiled and then swallowed it.

I don’t remember much after that. Mary and I had tried this a few times and it felt good, but it was amateur hour compared to what Loretta was doing. She was doing all kinds of nasty things. It was divine. I never knew oral sex could be so heavenly. That’s when I decided to learn everything this woman could teach me. I wanted to be her star pupil. I wanted to give like this as well as receive.

‘Oh Loretta! You are so fucking good please don’t stop. I feel wonderful. Ow ahhh. That’s it swallow my cock.’ I grabbed Loretta’s somewhat messy, blonde hair. I placed both of my hands upon her head above her ears, directing her mouth’s up and down motion. Then I began to raise my cock up in rhythm to meet her downward oral thrusts.
Then it began. The wonderful, tingly sensation that inexorably built up signalling the beginning of a massive orgasm. ‘Ohhh oh! I’m gonna cum,’ he warned her. But she didn’t pull away. If anything, she sucked me even harder, even as my cock ejaculated into her mouth.

With his cock still in my mouth, I looked up at my young plaything. He was trembling but he had a beatific appearance on his adorable face. He saw me looking and smiled. He still held my head in his hands and lifted it and me up. He brought my lips to his lips. Despite the fact that I had just swallowed his cum, he kissed me.
‘That was like a slice of heaven. I want you to see stars like I did. Take me into your bedroom and teach me.’
I grasped Bobby’s hand and led him into my boudoir. My bedroom is very feminine and sexy. Bobby’s eyes grew wide when I flipped the light switch.

Holding my hand, Loretta led me into her bedroom. I was a step behind her, so I was able to admire her shapely ass. I was picturing it naked when she turned the light on in her bedroom. The room was large, inviting, frilly and very sexy. Decorated in warm yellows and peaches, there was the occasional red or pink accent. The white-washed furniture appeared to be antique and contained a plethora of knick- knacks and trinkets. Several tasteful paintings of nude

women dotted the walls, except for the far wall, which held a ballet bar and was fully mirrored. The king-sized bed jutted out from the wall to my right. The ceiling above the bed and the headboard were mirrored and a sign above the headboard trumpeted what was about to happen:
This is where I sleep and if I’m lucky – FUCK!
‘What do you think?’ she asked.
‘I think it looks like a fun place to sleep…and FUCK!’ ‘Now you’re getting into the spirit.’
Loretta went to her closet and grabbed a garment. She walked over to me and gave me peck on the lips. ‘Since you just climaxed, we’ll take it slow.’ She handed me the garment – a blue satin robe. ‘Here, put this on. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Loretta gathered something out of her dresser and glided into the bathroom. I took off my clothes and slipped into Loretta’s robe. Anticipation was stimulating my libido. By the time Loretta emerged from her bathroom I was semi- erect. Seeing Loretta completed my erection. She was wearing black nylons, a black garter belt, with no panties and a non-functional black bra that was designed to show off the breasts rather than support them. And show them off it did. Loretta possessed a fine set of C-cup knockers with sexy raised pink nipples. The garments acted as an enhancement to her nakedness. All the best bits were exposed, but tantalisingly hidden with bits of lacy cloth.

I came out of the bathroom practically naked. I had hoped to get him excited enough to make love. Two reasons: I thought that would get his mind off of his cheating wife and I wanted his hot cock inside me. Unfortunately the expression upon his face resembled more a lamb going to slaughter, than a man being led to sexual bliss.

I sauntered up to him and started to make a comment about the robe but he precluded that by taking me in his arms and kissing me. His tongue entered my mouth, sought out and found mine. He went through the motions but because of inexperience or other reasons he wasn’t a very good kisser. Something I need to tutor. I did notice something positive though. A stiff bulge was trying to penetrate my belly button.
I reached down and grabbed his erection. ‘My, my. It didn’t take you long to get rejuvenated, did it?’ He smiled that shy little boy smile. God I loved that smile. It’s too bad my goal was to trade that innocent smile for one of cocky self-assurance. But, at least for the time being, he was my innocent little hunk. As I stroked his cock I told him, ‘Suck on my tits, Bobby. Good. Put your hand under it. Move your tongue around the nipple. That’s it. Now, do that with your hand on my other nipple. Good, I like that. Nibble on it, but not too hard. That’s it. Now suck on the other one. Ohhh, that’s good. Bobby?’
‘Yes?’
Pulling him toward the bed, I said, ‘I’m ready for you to bury it inside me now.’
I laid on the bed and spread my legs. I pulled him down and opened his robe. He shrugged the robe off and it fluttered to the floor. Still holding his cock I placed a condom, which I had tucked away, on his staff and said, ‘I want you to make me lucky.’

He looked confused, so I used my free hand and pointed over the headboard. ‘My sign, remember?’
Recollection flashed in his eyes as I inserted him into my warm wet pussy.

He wasn’t bad. He had good movement and a varied technique. As he fucked me he began sucking on my tits once more. My hands were on his fine tight ass urging him in and out. I said to Bobby, ‘Honey, if it’s all right with you, we’ll spend a lot of time together and I will teach you to be a great lover and seducer, but would you mind if I just enjoy your stiff cock inside me tonight?’

Bobby didn’t answer. His response was to smile and double the pace of his thrusts. Ooooh! He was good! ‘That’s it baby fuck me hard. Ummm. Fuck my brains out. Give me every inch of your cock. Ooooh, ahhh! Give it all to me, don’t save any of it. Fuck – fuck – fuck! Can you reach my tits? Fondle my tits, tickle my nipples. Suck on them. That’s it lover. Run your tongue around them but don’t stop giving me your hard cock. You’re a fantastic lover. Oooh, yeah! Take your hurt out on my pussy with your vicious weapon.’

‘That’s it. Feels good doesn’t it? Now roll me over. I want to be on top.’ After rolling over, I straddled Bobby. ‘I want you to watch me fucking you! Look beside and above us in the mirror. Watch us fuck. Pretend that Mary is watching us fuck. I want to make you forget that cheating bitch.’

I began riding Bobby like he was a saddle, gnashing my entire vulva into his pubis as his pretty penis was buried to the hilt inside me. Soon, I reached my own Sexual Joy with a seizure-like display that made Bobby come once more.

I thought, Bobby isn’t going to need much help when it comes to fucking. I hope I can rejuvenate him again. If so, this is going to be a long night.

I’ll have remember to send my friend Gary a thank you note.

The post The Sex Therapist appeared first on sexstories.org.

Swimming always gets me going. Blood pumping through these sluggish old veins after being holed up in the holiday cottage with a load of rutting couples. I love it when the water’s cold and rough. Far out there a couple of surfers are wrestling with the waves. Here the beach is deserted.

And now I’ve earned a kip. The sun’s really warm after the cold water. I whip my bathing suit off and flop down onto my towel but my heart’s still drumming, my body still buzzing. I turn on my back, stretch my legs out, point my toes to make them look longer. Hmm, still pretty good.

A breath of air tickles my slightly parted fanny. I open my legs a little more. I grope about in the sand to find my oil, but I can’t find it. My hand flops back onto my bare stomach and the touch electrifies me. I move my fingertips down to the hairless groove running along the top of my thigh and that makes me jump, too. The skin is the largest organ of the human body, and boy is it the most sensitive.

There’s another place, though. So sensitive it could make me come with a butterfly kiss. My hand wanders back up to my breast, just brushes the top, avoiding the nipples. They swell out luxuriantly. My stomach flutters.

I drop my hands. Is it possible to tease yourself? The sun rests on my eyelids while my hand drags back to my stomach. I move it in circles, frantic messages puckering up my nipples. My stomach tightens. My thighs fidget on the towel, open up wider. I fan my fingers, catching at a hardening nipple, and sidle the other hand downwards to the warm nest of hair. My fingers tangle in the wet curls, pulling strands, feeling each hair tug on the tender skin.

My middle finger extends down the crack and I half gasp, half giggle at the moist blood-heat warmth just inside the lips. That’s not just damp from the sea although I wonder what it would taste like now. I wiggle my finger, feeling the sliver of sensitive flesh. I shock it into tingling response. I moan softly, sure that the sound is only in my ears.

A shadow crosses my face and I swear, thinking a cloud is obscuring the sun. But it’s too solid for that. There’s a tall shape a couple of feet away. Surely not the others, come to spy on me from the cottage? I raise myself up on my elbow, ready to give them hell. My breast bounces against my arm. I raise one knee to get myself upright and a droplet of juice runs out of my crack and across my thigh.

It’s not my friends. It’s one of the surfers. His short wetsuit is rolled down his torso and he has his back to the sea. He can see me clearly, but I’m half blinded by the glare. I raise one hand to shield my eyes and take a good look at him. Sex on legs. Like something out of a beer advert. He’s lithe and tanned. His face is young. So young. Tiny gold prickles of barely shaved stubble speckle his brown cheeks. Hectic flushes of blood are just visible under the skin. Is he blushing?

I try to remember myself at his age. It wasn’t so long ago, for God’s sake. He’s seventeen, eighteen. Maybe nineteen. Definitely a boy and yet his body has been worked on. Hard. No ounce of puppy fat. His arms are big with muscle.
I let my eyes flutter back to his face. I open my mouth to speak, but he’s not about to make small talk. His bright blue eyes are fixed on my big breasts, hanging there in the sunshine. I must look like some kind of nude sculpture there on the towel. I suppose I could always pretend I’m one of those naturists.

But the naturists always claim there’s nothing sexual about nakedness, don’t they? What bollocks. I reckon this boy’s nakedness would be a blatant invitation to a shag-fest. His eyes are burning on me and my nipples harden as if agreeing with my assessment. They shrink into tight little arrowheads. Pointing directly at my young stranger.

The young man/boy swallows, getting the message. He scuffles his bare feet in the sand. Shit. He’s trying to get away. I want to stretch out and stop him. But no. He’s just planting them more firmly in that kind of swaggering stance young men have. Through his tight wet suit I can see his groin bulging against the black cloth. I want to rip it off here and now. I want to know what’s going on underneath.

‘Surf up today?’ I suddenly ask into the sizzling silence. I can imagine my mates up at the cottage giggling at my lousy attempt at surf-speak. ‘I thought there were two of you out there.’

He nods, and tosses his head back towards the waves. His hair is beginning to dry into bleached strands.

‘My brother’s still out there. I got a cramp.’ ‘I can see that.’

The fluttering in my stomach is back with a vengeance. No, forget fluttering. Nothing lady-like about this sensation. It’s twisting and tightening with total lust. I can’t believe I’m still sprawled here like some kind of centrefold. Usually I would have lifted the towel by now to cover myself up. I’d have made some shy, dismissive remark to send him on his way, but right now his glowing stare and his unmistakeable hard-on are just too good to waste. I’m not letting this opportunity pass. Apart from anything else, I intend to dine out on it tonight. The others will never believe me.

‘Want some lemonade?’ God, I sound like his aunt.

‘My dad says you should never accept drinks from strangers,’ he croaks with a lopsided grin, and I laugh. How sexy is that grin? How sexy is it that we’re strangers? I take the bottle from the cool bag and wave it at him.

‘I say you’re big enough to look after yourself.’ I’m still laughing. I pat the towel beside me. He steps closer. I’m making him feel safe. He leans across me, and swigs from the bottle. ‘So,’ I go on, my voice husky with laughter and desire. ‘Do you know this part of Devon?’

‘No. It’s my first time.’

Colour floods his cheeks even more as he says it, and this time I rein in my dirty chuckle. I quietly take the lemonade from him, keeping my green eyes calmly on his burning blue ones, and without wiping his spittle off the neck of the bottle I flick my tongue round the wet rim before tilting my head back to take a deep swallow. Now his eyes are on my throat as the cold liquid swishes down. This is like something out of a movie.

‘I mean, it’s the first time we’ve been down to this coast,’ he stammers. ‘Dad’s rented a place for the summer. He insisted we come here this year. Normally we go to Constantine Bay, in Cornwall. The surf’s miles better over there. So’s the surfing crowd. I mean, it’s just dead round here, isn’t it?’

‘That depends what you’re after,’ I remark lazily. The bottle is still hovering above my open mouth as if I’m about to give it head. I lick it again, turning myself on with the suggestive swipe of my tongue. Then I wrap my lips round the long cool shape and swallow a little more. His Adam’s apple jumps. I screw the top back on. On an impulse I put the bottle not back in the cool bag but between my legs, resting it up against my pussy. I can’t stifle a gasp as the cold plastic meets the sensitive, warm flesh. I lean back, letting it rest there, restraining myself from grabbing it and rubbing it up and down my hot slit like a sex toy. The urge won’t go away. But then, nor will the boy. My voice comes out in a low moan. ‘There’s plenty to entertain you if you know where to look.’

‘I’m beginning to realise that–’ Without the bottle the boy doesn’t know what to do with his hands. So he starts rolling the wetsuit back up his stomach.

‘It’s too nice out here today to cover yourself up. It may not be the Med, but this lovely weather has got to be a record for Devon. Sit down for a moment. Like you said, there’s nothing to do round here. So there’s no rush, is there?’

‘No rush,’ he echoes, and his young voice dips violently into a deep manly timbre, at odds with his adolescent face. My cunt gives a couple of uncontrollably cheeky twitches, practically nudging the bottle away as I watch him wrestle with the twin urges to come and sit near me or to stand there and remain cool.

Time to be a little less obvious. I relent and draw my legs up, so that my pussy is temporarily hidden from his confused, hungry gaze, but the movement brings the bottle harder against me, its long shape pushing between my sex lips and nudging the tiny bud of my clit. I grip it with my legs and feel the droplets of condensation mingling with my own sweat and moisture.

I’m getting breathless again, as if I was still swimming. I want to show the boy what I can do with the bottle, but it’s too soon. I hitch myself up the towel, pulling my shoulders back in an effort to look more sophisticated, but that just thrusts my breasts out so that his baby-blue eyes, which are still struggling to remain politely focused on my face, swivel back to watch the tightening of my red nipples.

‘It may be a bit quiet, but where else can you get quite so close to nature, after the city smoke? I expect that’s what your dad was after,’ I whisper, trying not to giggle out loud with delight. Something is still warning me to act very calm, sit very still so as not to alarm him. ‘That’s why I’m stretched out here, starkers. Never do that in London, do you? Hope you don’t mind me being topless like this?’

He shakes his head violently, like a little boy trying not to tell a lie, and at last, like an animal tempted in from the wild, he squats down, just by my feet. He rubs the salty strands of yellow hair off his hot face.

‘So. You here on holiday, or what?’

He’s giving in. He can’t take his eyes off my tits, even though he’s attempting to make conversation. I know my nipples are harder and darker now and impossible to ignore. Neither of us really wants to talk, do we? It’s as if he’s in a sweet shop with no pocket money. His tongue slides across his white teeth and he gulps. I keep my smile faint but encouraging.

‘It’s a mixture,’ I answer. ‘Work, and play.’ ‘So which is this bit? Work, or play?’

A soft wind comes off the sea and ruffles his hair. He swipes it impatiently out of his eyes. My own hair tickles my face, and the wind caresses my bare skin like delicate fingers.

‘Oh, that’s easy. Play,’ I whisper, not sure if he can hear. ‘This bit is definitely play.’

I tilt forwards on to my knees, the bottle still clamped there. I pause for a moment as he blinks, focusing on the big tits bouncing right there in front of him as if they were ice creams on offer. Then I pick up one of his large hands from where it’s digging frantically about in the sand. I lift it like it’s a warm animal and place it on one swollen breast. My nipple spikes against his palm. His mouth drops open. My head falls back as his fingers close harder, making it ache. I spread my knees a little to balance more comfortably in front of him, dislodging the bottle. I lean back on the towel so that my spine is arched and my breasts are pushing at him, jumping up with each heartbeat.

The dry grass rustles in the slight breeze, and far away the waves curl with a collective sigh onto the beach. Both the boy and me are panting. My tits disappear into his hesitant fingers. His blue eyes blaze with a crazy request. Christ, it’s enough to make me melt. Of course you have permission, my precious. I’m practically begging you!

My head feels heavy. The only energy is fizzing between my legs. I’m ready to let him take and thrust and pummel. I want to make him into a man. I have privacy, sunshine, a boy with the body of a god waiting for me to show him the way. And all the time in the world.

Lust is eating me up. His fingers dig into my breasts, wander across them and squeeze them, push them together, letting them fall, playing with them, staring at the rigid raspberry nipples. Then I kneel up and place my hands on his shoulders and push my tits into his eager face. I want him to nuzzle in, I want him to lick, suck, bite. Yes. I can tell he’s never seen anyone as luscious as me. A real woman. I want this to be what he’ll write home about, remember for ever. I want to smother him. He buries his face between my breasts, pressing them into his cheeks. Then he draws back. I cup one breast and offer it. I rub its taut dark nipple across his mouth. His tongue flicks out tentatively. My knees wobble and I clutch more firmly to his shoulders. My tit is angled right into his mouth.

He licks the nipple again, and his hands squeeze my breasts until they sing with delicious pain. Hands that a few minutes ago had been wrestling with a surfboard. Then his soft lips nibble up the little nub of the nipple, the tongue laps round it. He draws the burning bud into his mouth, pulling hard on it, and begins to suck. I cradle his bleached blond head, the salt water dried in granules and flecked white across his cheek bones. I could stay like this forever. His sucking makes my whole body ripple with desire.

I look away over his head, across the dunes and over the ocean, distancing myself, seeing us like a movie or a photograph, but his mouth, his teeth, keep pulling at the aching nipple and pulling me back. Electrical currents streak from my nipples to my empty, waiting cunt.

He has the other breast up by his face now. He’s turning from one to the other, lapping and sucking, snuffling through his nose to breathe, groaning, biting and kneading harder and harder as if he owns my breasts. It’s never enough to suck just one. They both have to be stimulated, and, boy, is he getting the hang of it. God, it’s going to be earth-shattering when I get him inside me.

He’s rougher, more ferocious, already more confident. I grind against him, daring him, searching for more pain to communicate more pleasure. I plant my knees on either side of his so that I’m straddling him, and still have his head crushed between my tits. I push him backwards so that, still sucking on my nipples, he’s lowered onto the sand. Now I’m on top of him, my tits dangling down like heavy fruit dented by his brown fingers. I tilt my pussy towards his groin and rub against his wet suit. The rough material is glorious, grating on my skin.

And I can feel the length of his dick. Still pushing my tits in his face, don’t ever want him to stop, I grab at the wet suit and start to roll it off him like a second skin. He raises his hips obligingly. So sweet. He does that so eagerly and readily. Does he realise how big his fucking gorgeous erection is? I yank everything down and his cock thumps free, juddering out from the rough tangle of blond curls, pulsating golden brown like the rest of him. God, it’s a work of art. Its surface is smooth like velvet, the mauve plum emerging from the soft foreskin which wrinkles back to show itself all gleaming. This gorgeous cock thumps into my hand. Now it’s my turn to fold my fingers round something, and as I do it he bites my nipple so hard that I scream out with delight. I lean over him.

‘Just take a little break. Try something new,’ I whisper, both to myself and to him. I start to wriggle back down his body so that his head follows for a moment, still attached to my nipples. Then he falls back as I slither down towards his groin and he can only grab at my wet hair. I reach his dick, standing up like a beacon. The tip is already beading in anticipation. A fresh stick of rock.

I open my mouth and draw his cock into it, using my teeth as well as my tongue, draw it all in until the boy’s knob knocks at the back of my throat.

He makes a sound, exquisitely shocked. His buttocks clench as I suck on him, nibbling down to the base of his shaft and licking and sucking the sweet length of it. He starts to buck about, groaning in amazement. I wonder if any of his pert little girlfriends give head like this. I doubt it. After all, I didn’t have much of a clue at this age. I want him to think he’s died and gone to heaven. Any minute now I’m going to heaven, too.

As I suck, I rub my tits and pussy up and down his legs. He pulls at my hair. I have to slow myself down, because we’ll both come too soon. I don’t want to waste this golden moment by coming all over his shinbone. My pussy is clenching frantically now. I’m leaving slicks of juice all over him.

I give his dick one last, long suck, pulling it towards my throat and nipping it with my teeth, then I let it slide along my tongue, out through my nipping teeth. Greedily I clamber back on top of him as he struggles up, seeking out my tits. I press him down on his back, tilting myself over him. We’ve moved some way from the towel now.

‘See how beautiful it is,’ I croon at him, showing him the length of his shaft encircled by my fingers. ‘See how well it’s going to fit.’

I smile as I raise myself on my knees and aim the tip of his cock towards the warm hole hidden in my soft bush. I let it rest there, at the opening, just like I did with the lemonade bottle, just nudging it past my wet sex lips. I wait. I smile again, lowering myself a little more, gasping as each inch goes in. I reach under him to cup his balls in one hand and he groans again.

This tension is ecstasy, but I can’t hold on to it for much longer, and slowly, luxuriously, I let the boy’s knob slide up inside, all the way to the hilt. It’s so tempting to ram it, let our hips start jerking, but once it’s right in I force myself to pull away again. He frowns, perhaps thinking I’m rejecting him, but I just ease myself down again, moaning and tossing my head back, and the next time I do that he’s with me, learning fast, pulling his own hips back, waiting when I wait.

I sigh out with the joy of being fucked by something so big and hard after months of sitting on the sidelines. As I bend over to let my tits swing across his mouth again, his eyes flip sideways and his face freezes. His hands jam onto my hips and hold me still. I don’t move. I don’t want to. But I see another shadow falling across his face.

‘Oh, piss off, guys!’ I shout, without looking round. ‘Go back to your poker game!’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it! This looks like a hell of a lot more fun than poker!’

A male voice, very similar to my boy’s, speaks from somewhere above and behind us. I go hot and cold. I try to read the boy’s expression. Then there’s the unzipping sound of another wet suit, and the boy’s eyes widen. First he shakes his head furiously, and then a filthy grin spreads across his face. Not a grin I’ve seen before. He looks at me in a different way. Kind of domineering. I’m thrown off balance. Already he’s learning. Glancing at the newcomer, the boy knocks my breasts from side to side.

‘My older brother,’ he croaks. ‘Back from the surf.’

He pulls me forwards, jamming my tits into his mouth again, and now my backside is up in the air. I want to protest but I can’t move. My butt is all exposed, bouncing in front of his brother, but so gorgeous is the feel of my boy’s almost aggressive mouth sucking on my sore nipples that I can’t stop him. As first one nipple then the other grinds into his mouth I automatically start up the rhythm again. I’m acutely aware of my new audience. It’s unutterably sexy to be watched.

I slide up and down his cock, showing off now. My muscles tighten each time to grab hold and keep him inside, and his cock is hardening even more with each thrust.

I’m just poised to ram down onto him harder than ever when my butt cheeks are pulled apart and another male body presses up against my back.

‘Can’t let you have all the fun, bruv,’ says the voice. ‘Reckon I want a go.’

‘You’ve got some catching up to do, mate. Bloody well wait your turn.’

The first boy pulls me harder down on top of him, ramming me right up inside.

‘You don’t mind me watching, do you?’ his brother murmurs in my ear, still fondling my buttocks.

‘No,’ I puff, barely able to speak. ‘Don’t mind.’

There’s something else going on here, too. I can recognize sibling rivalry when I see it, or rather sense it. It’s not that different from the ‘friendly’ rivalry between me and my mates up at the cottage. Our parlour games are never going to be the same after this.

I’m dizzy now, knowing I’m being watched. Who knows? Maybe the crowd up at the cottage will be down any minute, join the audience. See me in a whole new light. I gyrate as if dancing on the boy’s pole, flinging myself wildly about. The urge for satisfaction and the loss of control starts to overwhelm me.

The invisible brother is right behind me, touching me everywhere. I fall onto the rigid cock inside me and the orgasm is gathering. My moans are snatched into the sea air as I rock frantically. My boy can’t hold back and it’s spurting out of him and I’m bucking in my own orgasm.

‘Can’t let you corrupt my little brother and get away with it,’ the older brother says, pulling us apart. ‘Reckon you need teaching, too.’

He parts my legs, gets his own cock out. I try not to smile too greedily as we all lie on the sand while the tide encroaches up the beach and the seagulls wonder what the fuck these tourists are up to.

The post On The Beach appeared first on sexstories.org.

Oddly enough, defrocking a priest never really appealed to me. I always imagined them as anally retentive, grey old men, terrified of the opposite sex, so hiding behind celibacy. Or gay and hiding behind celibacy. Or just hiding behind celibacy because they hadn’t had any decent offers. Not even Richard Chamberlain in The Thorn Birds tempted me. Scrub that. Especially not Richard Chamberlain in The Thorn Birds tempted me. I must admit to quite liking the younger Gene Hackman as the tortured ex-priest in The Poseidon Adventure. Now me, him, upside down in a ship, with only a tub of Muller Fruit Corner to keep us occupied I could imagine.

Anyway, I digress. Not too much as it turns out. It all began with Ben. Gorgeous, virile, can go at it all night, Ben Brannigan. Or rather he would go at it all night when we finally got the chance. His family were religious, you see, and he believed in saving himself for marriage. Trouble is, he somehow got the impression that I was too. No, I didn’t lie. Not really. I just mumbled something when he asked if I was still a virgin and he took it for demure embarrassment.

I got my chance to try his wares when his family invited us for the weekend. We were to go to his uncle’s house in the country.

‘What does your uncle do?’ I asked Ben, as we drove to Oxfordshire. ‘He’s in the Church.’ My heart sank. No way would we be allowed to share a bedroom in a priest’s house. ‘I hope we get a chance to be alone, darling,’ I said, stroking Ben’s thigh. He nearly crashed when I squeezed his crotch.

‘Charity! Stop that. Do you want us both to go to hell?’ ‘No, but a nice little hotel in Woodstock would be lovely.’

‘I see what you’re doing. You’re testing me to see if I can keep my hands off you. Stop it, you little minx.’

God, I wanted him there and then, but something about his expression told me that he wasn’t very pleased with me. I sulked for the rest of the journey.

We arrived just before dinner. The house was wonderful.

The sort of Georgian pile I’d always dreamed of living in. ‘Charity, this is my mother, my father, and this is my uncle Jack. Everyone, this is Charity.’ I could tell from his mother’s shocked glance at me in my short skirt that things were not going to go according to plan.

Uncle Jack, who stood in front of the mantelpiece of his magnificent drawing room, wasn’t what I was expecting. For a start he was dressed in black chinos and a black turtle- neck sweater. He was also quite young. Not our age (Ben and I were both twenty-eight) but not much older than forty. He also eyed my mini-skirt but I couldn’t work out what he was thinking. He had one of those inscrutable faces. The type men have when they’re hanging from a big tap thingy in an upturned ship, willing to sacrifice themselves so that c- list actors can go on to star in soap operas. For some reason my panties felt a bit moist.

Ben’s friend, Vince, arrived just before dinner. They’d been at university together. He was a beautiful young man and I would have introduced him to one of my friends had he not been so moody. He didn’t seem to like me at all, only giving me a cursory nod.

Dinner was excruciating and I didn’t help. I blurted out ‘So, Uncle Jack, do you think Jesus and Mary Magdalene really got it on?’ He smiled and I almost melted. Ben glared at me and his mother looked like she was going to faint. His dad merely squeezed my knee under the table. Or he might have been trying to pat the dog. He was so drunk on Uncle Jack’s vintage wine, I wasn’t entirely sure.

‘So you’ve read The Da Vinci Code, Charity?’ asked Uncle Jack. His expression suggested he knew I only ever read Heat magazine.

‘Er…no, but everyone knows what it’s about. It’s like one of those cultural thingies…icons…that transcends boundaries. Like everyone knows that The Poseidon Adventure is about an upside down ship.’ I don’t know why I kept coming back to that!

‘Is it really, Charity?’ asked Uncle Jack.

‘Yes. For goodness’ sake, don’t you know? Gene Hackman…the tortured priest…that girl from Dynasty who fancied him…the one before Emma Samms…not that Emma Samms fancied Hackman…well she might have. I don’t really know her. I mean the one who played Fallon before Emma…’ My voice faded to nothing when I realised he was taking the piss and also changing the subject.

‘Oh I did like Dynasty,’ Mrs Brannigan said. ‘All those shoulder pads.’

‘Yes, me too, well the re-runs on digital telly,’ I nodded eagerly. Our eyes met and we smiled. For the rest of dinner, Ben’s mother and I chatted about our favourite Alexis Colby schemes. By dessert we were the best of friends.

‘I need to speak to you about something, Ben,’ said Vince. They went to the library. Uncle Jack and Mr Brannigan disappeared, and Mrs Brannigan went to powder her nose. I was left alone, the pleasure of chatting to Mrs Brannigan fading as I realised I’d been abandoned.

I wandered around the drawing room, imagining myself as some Jane Austen heroine, ‘taking a turn’. When that got boring, I slipped out into the hallway and went in search of the library, sure that Ben and Vince would be finished. As I grew nearer I could hear raised voices. One raised voice actually. Uncle Jack’s.

‘You can’t possibly marry that girl, Ben! It’s time to face up to facts. She won’t make you happy.’

Feeling like I’d been slapped, I ran out into the garden. How dare he decide what was best for Ben? The sanctimonious git! I sat outside for half an hour, not wanting to return to the house.

‘Charity?’ It was Mrs Brannigan. She found me sitting in an arbour at the bottom of the garden, looking back up towards the house. It really was beautiful. ‘Are you alright, dear?’

‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks. I think I’d like to go to bed now if that’s okay with you. It’s been a long day.’

‘Of course, I’ll show you to your room.’ She took my arm, seeming to realise I was upset. ‘I’m sorry we all left you to your own devices. Ben and his uncle had things to discuss.’

‘Yes, I know,’ I said tightly.

‘You were a bit of a surprise to us, actually.’ ‘I can imagine.’

‘But you’re a nice girl, I can tell.’ I didn’t know about that, but didn’t want to disillusion her. We carried on into the house and up the stairs.

‘Thank you, you’re very kind.’ And she was. So much so that I felt like crying. ‘Erm, Mrs Brannigan. Which is Ben’s bedroom? Just out of interest.’

She pointed to the door next to mine, smiling, but quite sadly.

‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything,’ I said. ‘I respect your house rules.’

‘Actually, Charity, it was Ben’s idea for you to have separate rooms. We’re not that stuffy, honestly.’

She left me at my door and went off to find her husband, whom we could hear singing sea shanties in the kitchen. I liked them. And what she’d said was true. They weren’t nearly as stuffy as I thought when I first arrived. But Uncle Jack. He was another matter.

Drastic action was called for. I had to convince Ben that he and I were meant for each other, but to be honest, as I took the pair of fluffy handcuffs out of my suitcase, I was beginning to wonder. He’d practically ignored me all night, huddled away with Vince. His uncle had swayed him far too easily for my liking. I decided I’d just show him what he’d be missing, then dump him.

I waited till I heard everyone come to bed, then I went downstairs to the kitchen and found a Muller Fruit Corner in the fridge. Cherry. My favourite. I crept back upstairs – yoghurt and handcuffs all ready – and went into Ben’s room.

He was lying with his back to the door, but he’d kicked off his blankets, wearing just a pair of boxers. The body I’d been longing to see and touch was mine for the taking. I slipped out of my clothes and tiptoed to the bed. Taking one of his hands, I clipped a handcuff around his wrist. He didn’t even wake up, so I rolled him gently onto his back and, throwing the yoghurt onto the bedside table, set about attaching the other cuff to the bedpost. My bare breast brushed his mouth as I stretched over him, sending a spasm of pleasure through my body. I heard him mumble ‘Oh, dear God.’

I closed my eyes, then found his mouth, thrusting my tongue between his lips. He kissed me back, bringing his own tongue up to meet mine. I trailed kisses down his chest, gently biting into one of his nipples, then downwards, to where his erection burst out of his boxers. I slid them down and took him in my mouth, completely forgetting I’d brought the yoghurt. I preferred natural, lapping up the salt taste. He groaned again, pushing my head against his cock with his free hand. My own centre throbbed and it was all I could do not to thrust straight down onto him. I wanted him – and me – to savour the moment.

I stopped and whispered, ‘You’re in my power. You have to do whatever I say.’

‘Yes,’ he replied, his voice husky. ‘Yes. Whatever you say.’ Moving back up the bed, I sat with my knees either side of his face, the bristles on his cheek tingling my inner thigh.

‘Lick me.’ His tongue darted upwards, finding my clit, swirling, probing. His hand, straining from the handcuff grasped my breast, pinching my nipples between his fingers, while his tongue drove me to madness. It was all I could do not to scream out as my groin pulsated to an early orgasm. He lapped that up hungrily, his tongue pressing against my throbbing clit, prolonging the pleasure beyond all reasonable bounds.

I needed to kiss him, to taste myself on his mouth. ‘Tell me you want me,’ I demanded, my lips pressed against his.

‘I want you.’

I slid my body down his torso, leaving a damp trail on his chest and belly, and eased myself down onto his prick. We rocked together, slowly at first, building the intensity until our bodies crashed together. I cried out as he filled me to completion, bucking against his thrusting hips. I came again, but he didn’t.

‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Give it to me.’ He was holding back, I could tell. I fucked him harder, forcing him to submission, finally feeling him explode into me.

That was when I opened my eyes, because I wanted to see the pleasure on his face. He was barely visible by the light from the moon, shining through the window, but it most certainly wasn’t Ben.

‘Jack!’ I jumped off him as though I’d been stung. He groaned, more in pain than ecstasy, clearly not expecting sudden movement. I couldn’t bring myself to call him Uncle Jack. Not then. ‘Oh my God! Why didn’t you say anything? You…you rapist!’

‘Excuse me, Charity, but you’re the one who came into my bedroom and handcuffed me to the bed, then gave me a blow job. At least that’s how the police would see it.’ There was amusement in his voice, alongside the happy exhaustion of his orgasm.

‘You can’t go the police. Oh God, I’m in such trouble.’ I threw on my nightie. ‘But you’re not Ben and you let me think you were.’ I remembered my earlier anger. ‘Oh I get it. I’m all right for a quick shag for you, to ease your celibacy for a while, but not good enough for your nephew. The Pope will probably send a hit squad to kill me for defrocking one of their priests. I’d better go quickly. Tonight.’

‘Do you think you could undo the handcuffs first?’ I blushed. I was also off my guard, because I didn’t see what was coming next. As soon as I’d detached the cuffs from the bedpost he snatched the key from my hand and clipped one cuff around my wrist, leaving us bound together.

‘What are you doing? Let me go or I’ll scream.’ It was an empty threat. I’d have been too embarrassed for anyone to find us.

‘Let’s talk,’ he said. I must admit to being disappointed. I thought he was going to pin me to the bed and ravish me. I’d have said no, of course. Except the memory of his probing tongue wouldn’t go away, so maybe I wouldn’t have. He pulled the blankets up over us. He lay on his side, I sat up until I realised that was too uncomfortable, with the handcuffs. So I reluctantly lay next to him.

‘About what?’ ‘About you and Ben.’

‘Yes, I know. You don’t think I’m good enough. I heard you.’

‘No, I said you weren’t right for him.’

‘It’s the same thing. And now, well, you probably think I’m even more of a slut.’

‘What I think about you is not up for discussion at the moment. Though I do believe that you’re a good girl who only tries very hard to be bad. You want marriage, kids, the whole kit and caboodle.’ I hated him for understanding me so well. Hated him, but desperately wanted him to kiss me again. ‘But Ben is never going to give that to you.’

‘No, because you won’t let him.’

‘I have my reasons. Actually, now I have different reasons, but we’ll discuss those later. Ben is gay, Charity. He and Vince are in love.’ I was going to argue with him, but what he said made sense in too many ways.

‘So now what are we going to do?’ I asked.

‘Me? I’m going to open that yoghurt, smear it all over your body then lick it off.’

‘Well if you insist,’ I said.

The following morning we watched Ben and Vince ride off into the sunset together. Well, it was raining and they were in Ben’s car, but you get the idea. Ben’s parents had left some time earlier, so it was just Jack and me.

‘What about us?’ I asked. He stood behind me, with his arms around my waist, making me feel very safe and protected. ‘You’ll be unfrocked and the Pope will send out a hit squad for me.’

‘The word is defrocked. The Pope doesn’t care what I do.’ I felt his mouth on my neck. ‘I’m Church of England. Now, let’s go and see if we can find any more yoghurt in the fridge.’

The post Upside Down With A Tub Of Yoghurt appeared first on sexstories.org.

This week began like any other week, I would leave the warehouse at four thirty in the morning and begin deliveries to grocery stores and restaurants throughout the area. By the time I reached Grove City, around seven thirty, it was time for breakfast. From time to time I would have to cover someone else’s route and not stop at Cheryl’s Diner, but not very often. In the two plus years I’d been stopping I was generally waited on by Francine or Michelle, not today, an older lady was asking if I wanted coffee before ordering.

“Where are Francine and Michelle? They have the day off?”

“Well sir, neither work here any longer, Friday was their last day, Francine is moving to Daytona Beach to be closer to her kids and Michelle landed a job in Cuba City at a large distribution warehouse. I usually work from three until seven evenings, now I’m covering early mornings. So … coffee, or would you like to look at the menu?”

“Nope, won’t need a menu. I’ll have the haystack without onions and a glass of milk with the meal, honey wheat toast.”

“Sounds like you’ve eaten here before.”

“Nearly every Monday through Friday for over two years. I noticed there’s no strawberry jam, can you remedy that?”

She offered a soft smile along with, “Certainly, anything I can do to help.”

Having lived in the south the past several years I was used to the normal hon, shug, babe, baby or sweetie from southern waitresses, this lady was southern, but she was different. I smiled and tipped my hat as I watched her walk away. She was good looking for an older broad, quite conservative in her dress but attractive in her own right, most of the waitresses would be in jeans and a somewhat revealing top. Apparently cleavage increases the size of the tip.

Her nametag said Elma, and unlike the other gals she was dressed like waitresses used to, a light blue cotton dress with white piping around the sleeves and neckline, a neckline that was open but not enough to look inside. The one unusual thing I did notice was that the hem of her dress was probably three inches above her knees and that she wore stockings. I estimated she must be in her late fifties, maybe sixty. She had a slender figure, sort of average I guess, a cute hinder that twitched a little as she walked away, or did she do that for my benefit. Her chest wasn’t big but then it wasn’t small either, what I’m trying to say is she was put together nicely.

Unlike so many older ladies it was apparent she had let her hair color naturally, it was mostly a silverish grey with a smattering of brown every so often. It was long by most standards, well over her shoulders and while not as thick as a young woman’s hair it was still full. I was surprised she wasn’t wearing glasses, most older people do, maybe she used contacts.

Waiting for my food I momentarily drifted back to how I’d come to live in the south. I had ended up moving after my long-time life companion decided she was leaving me for a much younger model. Though we’d been together thirteen years Sherry and I had never married, I had proposed more than once, each time she said no but wanted to stay together. In my eyes we were married whether we had a certificate or not. Not so in hers I guess. For my thirty third birthday she took me out for a lavish steak dinner and introduced me to her new lover wondering if wanted to be part of a polyamorous relationship.

When I got out of jail forty-five days later I decided to move. Not across town, across country. Since I’d done no permanent harm to her new lover the DA showed mercy and charged me with a misdemeanor instead of a felony, which meant I could keep my CDL. I happily left the ice and snow of North Dakota, trading it for the heat and humidity of Northwest Georgia. Once I got past the culture shock and learned how to decipher Southern ese, (my God these people talk fast) I felt good about the move. Yes, it was hot and sticky four to five months a year, but compared to ice, snow, and temps at or below freezing five to six months a year, I figured I had the better deal.

I’d been driving big rigs all my adult life with a perfect driving record, finding work wasn’t an issue, I had lined up the position I presently occupied prior to ever moving. I was tired of the long hauls and decided running a steady daily route would be more in line with what I wanted life to be. I lived in an apartment complex complete with a pool, laundry facility, a fitness/workout room, a hot tub, and more lonely housewives than you can shake a stick at. Then there were the divorcee’s, the lonely heart singles, the downright homely, and last, but not least, the “I hate all men” club.

At thirty-four I must have been considered prime material because I had an abundance of women, married and otherwise, who let it be known they were ready to be wooed and screwed by yours truly. I have to admit I did avail myself of said provisions more than once, okay, okay, sometimes more than once a week. I stayed away from the married one’s as much as possible, the key words there being “as much as possible”. In the two years and seven months I’d been living there I’d only bedded three housewives. Two of which had abusive husbands and a third whose husband never grew up, he spent most of his free time with his high school buddies, all in their late twenties.

I’d met all three at the laundry facility, the first two were obvious, I showed them some kindness, they in turn wanted to be wanted without being abused. The second one of those nearly landed my ass back in jail, thankfully her soon to be ex was too drunk to remember who’d kicked the shit out of him. Within a week of his ass whooping she had vanished, her girlfriend said she’d gone back to Iowa and was filing for divorce. Smart girl, no one should have to put up with that shit.

The third was lonely, plain and simple, feeling neglected, unwanted, undesirable, and had basically accepted she was destined for a shitty life with an idiot husband. It started out quite innocent, we talked, she shared dreams and aspirations, we learned of one another’s past, it got to be a regular thing every Thursday night. That was the slowest night of the week at the laundry for some reason, it was usually Emily and me along with one or two others.

To keep my horns trimmed I’d been banging two divorcees across the complex on occasion, I didn’t hide it, but it wasn’t common knowledge either. Emily and I were near being done with our laundry one Thursday, folding clothes and putting them in a basket. She was generally very careful when she folded her underwear and put away her bras, she usually had her back turned to me. This evening was different, as she folded several pair of small lacy panties facing me I was without the will power to look away.

“Do you like those Paul?”

Feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar I quickly looked down in embarrassment.

“It’s okay Paul, it really is. I bought them thinking he might stay home and be with me instead of running with his high school friends. It didn’t work, I even bought a slinky see through nightie. You know what the idiot said when I walked down the hall wearing nothing under it as he watched TV? Get some clothes on, you’ll be cold in that get up.”

I couldn’t wrap my head around such stupidity, had she done that in my home I’d have jumped her bones and rode her hard all night. My mouth must have been hanging open, smiling she put her finger under my chin and lifted it.

“What would you do with a woman like me Paul? Be honest.”

I thought, what the hell, I might get my face slapped, but I was going to tell her exactly what I was thinking.

“I would have jumped off that couch, put you over my shoulder and slapped your ass a few times as I carried you to the bedroom, I would have tossed her your sexy ass onto the bed and stripped, my face would have been between your legs so fast it would take your breath away. After you came on my face a few times I would have slid up your body and driven my cock inside so deep you’d choke, while I pumped you I’d be sucking your tits until you screamed as I filled your little kitty with sperm. Is that clear enough?”

Her face was red as a fire hydrant, good thing there were no dogs around. Her breathing was shallow and staggered, almost as if she were hyperventilating. Putting her hand to her chest she looked in my face.

“Really? You would do all that? Oh my, I’ve been missing out. Listen, I’m not a slut, but would you do that to me? Please? He’ll be gone fishing all weekend.”

I agreed telling her to come in the patio door to the back so as not to give the gossips anymore ammunition than they already possessed. I asked if she’d like to go out somewhere, she blushed a little.

“No, I want you to do with me what you said. Should I bring my see-through nightie along? Paul … I don’t shave. Will that be an issue?”

“It won’t be for me, I like a woman who looks like a woman. And yes, absolutely bring that nightie and some of those sexy panties, we won’t be naked the entire weekend.”

She had a surprised look on her face, “Wait, you want me to stay the weekend? Are you sure?”

“I am if you are Em, I’d love to ravish your body all weekend. That way the smell of sex can be in my apartment and not something you have to explain when your worthless husband gets home. We’ll quit early enough so you can get home to shower, douche and change.”

Another surprised look, “Douche? I haven’t done that in ages. Why?”

“Because a man knows if his wife’s pussy is full of cum, and if he hasn’t been with her he knows it’s somebody else’s cum, if he happens to get home horny you’ll be safe.”

More blushing, “Pussy, he never calls it my pussy, it’s always a vagina. I like pussy better, it’s not so clinical sounding. What time Friday?”

“I’m home by three at the latest, any time after that. I’ll cook supper, you bring the ice cream.”

We were the only ones present during our rather revealing conversation, she stood, grabbed her basket, leaned down to kiss me and whispered. “Tomorrow at four, leave the patio doors unlocked. I’m all tingly inside, I can hardly wait.”

I drove Friday’s route from habit, my mind was anywhere but on the job, I couldn’t get her out of my head. How the hell could any guy ignore a beautiful young thing like that? She never dressed provocatively but it was quite apparent she was well endowed in all aspects of her sexuality. I intended to let that sexuality loose over the weekend, she’d find out what it was like to have her body worshipped and adored. I knew from earlier conversations that she was on the pill, I’d recently had myself tested not always knowing where I was dipping my wick, I was clean as a whistle. It would be a weekend of bareback, making love and knock down dragged out fucking if she could handle it.

She strode through my patio door at exactly four, carting an overnight bag and a smaller bag with what looked like clothes. In a few hours I would find out it was lingerie she’d purchased that he never liked and she was going to wear it for me. I’d made cobb salads with grilled chicken breast and a cheesecake for dessert. As I was cleaning the kitchen she asked if I wanted her to shower.

“No, I want to smell the sex oozing from your body when we lay down, don’t wash that away.”

Smiling she excused herself heading toward the bedroom. As I was starting the dishwasher I looked to see her standing in the doorway wearing nothing but the sheer nightie, no panties, no bra, nothing but her birthday suit beneath it. I could do nothing but stare, her breasts were great, allow me to recant that statement, her breasts were wonderful. They stood straight and proud the way a young woman’s tend to do, perfectly cone shaped with tight nipples pushing against the fabric. Looking down I saw a thick V shaped patch of dark brown curls matching the hair color on her head.

By now the only head I was thinking with was the one on the end of my cock, I did what I told her I would do. I walked to her, reached around grabbing her ass while pulling her into me as we kissed, I picked her up by her butt cheeks and threw her over my shoulder. Walking down the hall I smacked her ass not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make her squeal.

“You’re a naughty girl Emily, you don’t have panties on, I might have to punish you with my rod of correction.”

Her response completely caught me off guard, “Please don’t hurt me daddy. I’ll do anything you want daddy, you can have my pussy.”

Ah, she wanted to role play, I can do that. I smacked her a second time as we walked through the door, lifting her off my shoulder I tossed her onto the bed. I was stripping as she was giggling and scooting to the middle. I grabbed an ankle and pulled her back to me, with her legs hanging over the edge at her knees I opened her legs, pushed them alongside her body and dove in face first. Her smell was erotic and seductive, not offensive, but strong, her pussy was coated with juices before my lips ever touched her pouting thick labia.

Her hands were behind her knees holding herself open, as I felt her body begin to tense she let go of her legs and wove her fingers into my hair. Over and over she whispered “yes” until I felt her body tremble, she wasn’t loud or throwing herself around, pushing her pussy up into my face and breathing heavy was the whole of it. I licked until the second one hit, that must have stirred a primal feeling inside, she uttered out loud, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck” this time her body convulsed as she pushed upward off the bed. I didn’t slow down until her butt dropped back to the bed and she pushed me away.

She lay there silent for what seemed an eternity, it was well over three minutes before she stirred, and then only to straighten her body. Reaching her arms to me I moved up the bed and lay with her. We didn’t speak, she wanted to kiss, as we broke she licked my lips.

“I’ve never tasted a pussy before, am I how all pussies taste? Paul how do you know to do all those things, Jeff has eaten me and I’ve cum, but never like this. I came so hard I couldn’t tell if I was in a dream or having an out of body experience. You have a nice big cock, I can only imagine how it’s going to make me feel. I want you to teach me everything you can this weekend.”

“Not all pussies are as sweet as yours Em, you have a perfect blend of honey like nectar and arousal, it made my dick so hard I hurt.”

“I’m not very good at it but I can give you a blow job.”

I laughed, “Honey, the only place my cum is destined this weekend is in your delicious little pussy. You’re on the pill and we’re both clean, I intend to fill you so full of cum you slosh when you walk.”

I sensed she was near tears, “I wish I was with you and not Jeff, I want a baby so bad, but not if he’s going to be like he is. If I wasn’t married to him you could put a baby in me. I would love that.”

I had a finger inside the tiny opening to her vagina, moving it in and out slowly, the juices building rapidly, it was time to put a load inside her sweet cunny.

“It’s time we get down to business, are you ready? We’ll start missionary but I doubt we’ll finish that way.”

As I moved on the bed her answer was to spread her legs and bend them at the knee, a perfect saddle for me to lie in, the thin trail of hair along the labia were like guiding lights drawing my dick to her opening. As the tip of my cock touched her sopping wet pussy she put her hands on my ass and pulled me in, I’m not a huge man by any means, but the six and a half I do possess has never let me down. As I entered she commented.

“Oooo, you’re cut. Jerry isn’t, I think I like this better, it certainly opens me wider.”

About halfway to bottoming out she stopped pulling me in. In not much more than a whisper she talked to me.

“You’re bigger than Jerry, I need a minute to relax and get used to how thick you are. I feel like you’re gonna split me in two, but I like it and I know it’ll feel good once I can take all of it.”

When she raised her hips slightly and wiggled to accept more of me I finished the process of burying my meat deep inside her cunt, three strokes later when my balls hit her as she moaned and whispered “more”.

It was slow and gentle, all my plans for not cumming in her missionary went out the window when she started to go off begging me to cum inside her. My balls erupted and my cock launched volley after volley of thick white seed deep within her. I could feel it hit the cervix, she could as well, I heard her say again and again, “I can feel it”.

When I had softened to the point that I was dropping out she whined, “No, not yet I want more.”

An hour and twenty minutes later I had her on her tummy with a thick rolled cushion type pillow under her abdomen, her ass was pointed up and her pussy was protruding beyond her thighs as though it was begging to be fucked. Hovering over her I swiped my dick up and down over her labia then positioned the head at her opening and pushed forward, her back arched as she pushed back and let out a long soft moan when my pelvis touched her ass.

“This is so good Paul, it’s deep, my pussy is tingling all over. I’ve never had it like this before, put your cum deep inside me.”

I never could hold out very long in that position, there was just too much stimulation, I surprised myself by holding out over fifteen minutes before I arched my back and slammed into her hungry little cunt one last time. It felt like the end of my dick was going to explode, I was cumming so hard it made my nuts hurt, she in turn was pushing back and squealing as her ass shook and her hips humped. She kept yelling.

“Ohh, ohh, ohh. My god it’s so deep, I can feel you Paul, I can feel you.”

At four something the next morning she was on hands and knees as I plowed into her from behind, my hands grasping her hips, our skin making slapping noises as we collided, her knees were spread, her back was arched, she wanted every fraction of an inch I could provide. I thought I would last longer than the twenty minutes I did having cum only hours before, but that tight cunt was sucking the life out of me, there would be no holding back, I let loose with a loud bellow.

Saturday we woke mid-morning, I made us breakfast, afterward we lounged about until early afternoon when she excused herself headed to the bedroom. Ten minutes later she stood at the end of the hall in a white lacy shelf bra, nipples exposed above the half cups, and a pair of white bikini panties with the words “fuck me” in bold red letters across the front. My cock was instantly hard, we’d been in just underwear so there was no hiding it. I uttered half under my breath.

“Holy shit girl, you look fantastic.”

“Jerry didn’t like it, he said I looked slutty.”

I chuckled, “He’s a fool. Get your slutty little ass over here girl, I’m gonna dine at the wye again.”

Standing in front of me she put her hands on mine to keep me from pulling the panties down.

“Paul, I want to try something I’ve never done. My closest friend at work says she sits on her husband’s face and he eats her. Have you ever done that?”

“Let me slide those panties down and I’ll show you. No, don’t take the bra off, leave them just as they are.”

I pulled her panties off and lay back on the couch, she squatted over my face and lowered until her pussy met my mouth. About seven minutes later she was screaming and begging to be fucked, I had taken off the bra and had ahold of her tits as she exploded, the nipples were hard and distended, I had to have them in my mouth. Laying with a nipple in my mouth she said softly.

“I need you again, I need you inside me.”

“Then slide down my body and stick my cock in your pussy.”

“I’ve never done it like that before. What should I do after you’re in me?”

I laughed softly, “Oh, you’ll know once you’re impaled on my cock.”

And boy howdy did she ever, she stroked up and down, back and forth, she ground her clit against my pubic bone and when the time came for a climax to flood our bodies she was slamming her body up and down with great fervor. My nether region was flooded with girl cream mixed with my own, we were both a sloppy mess, after a quick shower we were under the cover for a nap. I called for Chinese delivery just after six, by seven she had excused herself once more, this time appearing in a body stocking with her breasts hanging out and a large opening for her cunt or ass to be fucked.

For whatever reason there was a lot of foreplay before we made love, it was an hour later that we tripped the light fandango one more time. As we lay awake before sleep overtook us she asked me a very poignant question.

“Have you ever done anal Paul?”

Which way to answer this, do I lie and tell her no, or do I fess up and let her know I’ve been buried balls deep in more than one asshole. It wasn’t going to happen between us, not with only a matter of hours before our sex-fest was over.

“As a matter of fact, I have. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, you hear about things but never do them. I just wondered, does it hurt?”

“It does if it isn’t done right. It takes a lot of preparation the first time Em, it usually isn’t something that just happens unless the guy is small and it slips in. Are you wanting to try?”

She sighed, “I don’t think so, I just wondered. I need to sleep, can we do it again in the morning before I have to leave?”

“Yes baby, we can. Have you ever done it with your ankles on his shoulders?” She shook her head. “Then that’s what we’ll do in the morning, think about that for a minute, nothing to get in the way of fucking you senseless. Your pussy will be wide open.”

She repeated, “Wide open, that sounds good.”

She was savvy enough to give me a good fuck, but her naivety was also a turn on. When she went home she would never settle for average again, I felt badly for dipshit, he won’t know what hit him. When we woke she didn’t want breakfast, she wanted me to do her ankles on shoulder. I once again managed to go longer than I thought I would, I looked at the clock when we began and eighteen minutes later I deposited my last load of the weekend inside her very appreciative young body. Her body didn’t slosh when she walked, but she was definitely full of cum.

It was two weeks later I saw her in the laundry, she had a new awareness about her, one of seductive confidence. As we were folding clothes she looked at me and smiled.

“Leave the patio doors open, I’m coming over as soon as I drop off the basket. I want you one last time.”

I was confused, “One last time, what does that mean?”

“I’m going back to Santa Fe, Jerry will be served tomorrow as I’m pulling out of town. He called me a slut for wanting to try the things you taught me, so … fuck him. Or should I say I’m gonna fuck you? This will be our last time Paul, thank you for opening my eyes.”

I thought it might be a lovey dovey make out session, silly me, she wanted to fuck and fuck hard. We finished with me behind pounding for all I was worth. It was a kiss at the door and, “I’ll never forget you, thanks Paul”.

As the haystack was placed before me I was brought back to the present. When Elma asked if I needed anything else I shook my head and proceeded to have breakfast. It became a common occurrence for Elma to wait on me. When they had moved her to mornings they’d also hired a young thing to work alongside her, she was nineteen at the most, liked to swish her ass around, jiggle her oversized tits and flirt.

The morning she served me and asked what sort of tip I had for her while looking at my crotch I knew exactly where she stood, knowing instinctively it wasn’t where I wanted to be. I like pussy, but not what she was offering. As I finished Elma began to bus the table, she looked at me and spoke softly.

“She’s awfully brassy, she’ll find herself in trouble if she isn’t careful.”

I asked, “trouble”?

She said, “You know” as she made a bubble type movement over her tummy, ah, knocked up, now I got it.

Over the next few months we got to know one another fairly well, if it were slow she would sit and have a coffee while I ate. She had a slight accent, when I inquired she told me it was Swiss, she had been working on an Army base in Germany, met and married a young GI returning to the states with him in the early 80’s. What she thought was a dream romance quickly fell apart when she discovered he had three children with other girls from before, she was six months pregnant when he announced he was going to divorce and marry one of the others.

Considering she had worked for the government prior she was able to land a job with the state, one she had retired from fifteen months ago and worked part time at the diner because she was bored. She raised her son all alone, he was now a major in the Air Force flying helicopters, beyond that she didn’t know much more of what he did. He was presently stationed in Guam, she had plans to visit him in another six months.

I noticed as time went on that we’d become very comfortable with one another, It probably bordered on flirting at times, something we either missed or chose to overlook purposely. She would laugh and touch my hand, or giggle schoolgirl like and blush, other times I would make comments about something or another to flatter her or remark about something new. When she changed her hairstyle slightly I commented that I liked it, she just smiled and her face flushed with redness, oh my gosh, she was blushing.

Chatting with her over breakfast one morning I began to think about the situation. I was weeks away from thirty-six and found myself being attracted to an older woman, and I don’t mean a few years, probably close to double my age. I was thinking about her a lot, not in a sexual horny way, although she still had what it takes to turn a head or two. I initially thought of something more along the lines of someone fun to be around, someone to have a meaningful conversation with.

I was entertaining thoughts of asking her to dinner but would always override those with the thought of her laughing at me and telling me to find someone my own age. As I pulled into the parking lot Friday morning I decided I would dig deep and find the courage to ask her out to dinner Saturday night. She was only seventeen miles from where I lived, which in my world was no more than a hop, skip, and jump. I changed my order to French toast which made her stop and smile.

“What’s this all about Paul? I can’t recall the last time you didn’t order the haystack.”

“I don’t know, feeling adventurous I suppose. Speaking of adventurous, how would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? We could go to the supper club on highway 13.”

She laughed, “You don’t want to be hanging around with an old woman like me, but thanks. I’m flattered, be right back with your order.”

I was finishing up when she brought the check, sitting across from me she had a serious look on her face.

“You were serious weren’t you.” I nodded. “Surly there are women more your age for a dinner date. That’s what you were implying wasn’t it, a dinner date?”

“That’s exactly what I was implying Elma, and don’t call me Shirley.” She was laughing. “Is there a reason beyond me being younger that you can’t or won’t go?”

Her fingers strummed the table as she looked around the room, finally turning to me she spoke.

“None at all. I have to say I’m flattered, truly flattered. If you have no compunctions about going out to dinner with an old broad like me, I have none about being seen with a young handsome man. What time?”

After getting her address and phone number I told her I’d pick her up at six, and that I was going to dress in more than jeans and a shirt. I wore casual dress slacks, a dress shirt without a tie and a light sport coat, she had on a lovely floral print dress along with a shoulder wrap. It was obvious she’d spent extra time doing her hair and makeup which she seldom wore at the diner. I commented on how lovely she looked, she simply took my extended elbow and said softly, “Thank you.”

I’ve always been a door opening kind of guy when it came to ladies, it was something my dad had done and it’s something I always do. She commented on my chivalry and good manners once we were on our way. Dinner was excellent along with the conversation that followed, it had been an hour since we sat down, noticing there were others waiting to be seated we decided to go. She asked if I had long term plans, I told her I was quite satisfied doing what I was doing, the pay was decent, I had good benefits and it was basically a no stress job.

She turned to me, “Think you’ll ever marry, or did the longtime girlfriend leaving destroy that forever?”

I had to think a moment, “I think if I met the right woman I’d marry, but who wants to get attached to a guy in his thirties? A lot of women think that’s too old to start a family.”

“Oh, pish posh, whoever said that is as ignorant as the day is long. Lots of time to be a daddy at your age. I’ll tell you this Paul, if I was thirty years younger I wouldn’t mind having your shoes under my bed. But, that boat sailed a long while ago.”

I looked at her with a quizzical look on my face, “Why would you say that? You’re attractive and well put together, I think you sell yourself short Elma. Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

She laughed a little looking out the window into the darkness, then turned to me, “How old do you think I am Paul?”

“I’m going out on a limb here so don’t be upset with me, fifty-nine, maybe sixty.”

She belly laughed and then put her hand on mine, “Oh you sweet, sweet man. I’ll turn sixty-four in three weeks, thank you for seeing me as younger, you sure know how to sweet talk a gal.”

When she leaned to put her hand on mine I noticed her dress had ridden up slightly, the far side was high enough I could see the clip from the strap on what I thought was her garter belt. As she turned back to look out the windshield she quickly adjusted her dress pulling it down while looking at me, I’d managed to look away before she caught me, from the corner of my eye I saw her smile and mumble something to herself. She invited me in for a coffee and piece of cake before leaving for home, I’d grown up sitting around the kitchen table, sitting in the kitchen with her seemed the most natural thing.

As I was walking to the door she reached for my hand and stopped me, “Thank you for a wonderful evening, I haven’t been on a date for two decades or more. You’ve been a real gentle man, thank you.”

I told her I’d see her Monday morning and went my way. My mind didn’t wander to the perverse, I had respect for her and we’d had fun, but I wasn’t fantasizing about having her in bed. I didn’t even know if she did such things anymore, some people stop at an early age. Considering she hadn’t been with a man in twenty years I wouldn’t be surprised if she were no longer interested in such activity. I had to cover another guy’s route on Wednesday and Thursday so didn’t have time to stop for breakfast, Friday morning Elma smiled as I walked in.

“Hey stranger, where you been?”

I explained my situation, told her I’d have the usual and made my way to relieve the pressure on my bladder. A cup of black coffee was waiting for me as I sat down, a few minutes later Elma sat a plate in front of me, it was busy enough that she didn’t have time to sit until a few minutes before I was due to leave. Handing me the check I motioned for her to sit, which she did.

I grinned, “So, where are we going tomorrow night?”

She smiled, “Going? I wasn’t aware we were going anywhere. Did you have something in mind?”

“There’s a new restaurant in Overland, I’ve been delivering to them for more than a month, from what I’m delivering they must do a pretty good business. I talked with one of the owners this morning, he said Saturday is impossible without a reservation, so I booked one for two at seven tomorrow evening. Wanna go?”

She chuckled, “Of course I want to go you goof ball. What girl could turn down an invite like that?”

As I handed her a twenty and told her no change she leaned close to my face. “I bought a new dress this week along with some accessories.” Looking around she whispered. “Some new undies.”

Like a shot she was gone and I was headed to the truck. Telling me she bought some new underwear seemed a bit unusual for her, then again, we’d been talking for months and were fairly comfortable with one another. Maybe it wasn’t so strange, maybe she was simply sharing something with me. At any rate I wasn’t going to give it anymore thought, I’d pick her up at six the next night and that was what was on my mind. I told her I would be wearing a coat and tie, she said she’d dress up as well.

Considering it was going to be the second time I took her out I stopped by the florist and grabbed a mixed bouquet on the way back to the warehouse. I stuck them in a small bucket of water overnight so they’d stay fresh, when I gave them to her I thought her heart was going to stop. Clasping her hand to her chest she began to cry softly.

“Oh my. Oh my, this is too much. No one has given me flowers since my son did when he graduated from the Air Force Academy. They’re lovely Paul, simply lovely. I’ll put them in some water so we can go, I’ll arrange them after dinner. Save room for dessert, I baked a cheesecake today and I have some cherry topping to go with it.”

The restaurant was on Cooley Lake and was called The Cabin. Along with the regular fanfare found at most high-end eating establishments they also offered certain wild game in season. We both ordered the pheasant and were not disappointed in the least, it had been a tossup between the pheasant and a bison steak. The ambiance was pleasant, the lighting was low in a romantic sort of way, it was after we ate and were talking I took in her beauty.

She’d worn a black pencil dress, no, not skin-tight showing off every curve, but still flattering to her figure. Along with that she wore a light white sweater, matching pearl necklace and earrings, and what I figured were three-inch black heels. What had caught my attention when I first saw her was that the dress ended three to four inches above her knees, I then realized she had the legs to pull off something like that at sixty-three. The sheer black seamed stockings made her look all the more appealing. Ever notice how seamed stockings will catch your eye in an instant, one can’t help but look at her legs.

We sat and talked following the meal, nothing serious or earth shattering, it was slow so we didn’t feel pressured to leave. As I opened the car door for her she made sure she was as close as possible without touching my body with hers, holding her hand as she sat I couldn’t help but notice her legs again. I started the car and was strapping myself in when I looked at her.

“I love that perfume. What is it.?”

“It’s called Cherry Blossom Spring, it’s an oil, I have to order it. I used to order over the phone, now I can do it online and they send it right to my door. Much easier than running to the city where I used to pick it up. I’m glad you like it.”

At the house I made each of us a cup of coffee on the Keurig, by the time I’d finished that and put two dessert plates on the table along with a fork for each, she had the flowers arranged and had taken the cheesecake from the fridge. I love cheesecake and like a pig I ate two pieces, she seemed to like the fact that I had an appetite. Walking to the door as I was getting ready to leave she once again took my hand and stopped me.

“I had a wonderful time Paul, I really enjoy being with you. You’re fun and easy to talk with.”

I sensed she was waiting for me to do or say something, a half-smile on her face, the look of wonder in her dark brown eyes. Taking a chance I leaned forward to kiss her, it was soft and tender, her lips seemed to be inviting me to continue, then she pulled back. I thought it was goodnight, what she did next threw me for a curve, in a flash her lips were back on mine, soft, warm, it felt like my lips melted into hers. We kissed with a sense of passion another thirty seconds or so until she pushed back, red faced, looking flustered, her lipstick was smeared, laughing softly she tried wiping it off my lips.

“Oh my, please accept my apology, I’m being a bit fresh aren’t I? In my day a girl would never kiss a boy like that on a second date. I feel a little like a floozy, sorry.”

I laughed, “A floozy? Elma there is no way you could be a floozy as you call it. I assume that means being a bit loose and fancy free.”

Still smiling with a hand on my chest and the other on my shoulder she sort of half giggled like a schoolgirl, “It was a rather nice kiss wasn’t it? I’m simply not used to this sort of attention. You’re a fine young man, are you sure you want to be taking me out to dinner and such?”

“As sure as my name is Paul. I enjoy being with you and to be frank, I wasn’t sure I’d ever meet someone as nice as you after what Sherry did to me. As far as I was concerned loyalty and being faithful were dead.”

Stepping back she slowly opened the door, I felt like she wanted me to stay, at the same time she looked embarrassed and conflicted. As I turned she took hold of my sleeve and stopped me, she kissed me softly one more time and whispered, “Those things aren’t dead Paul, you just need the right woman. Goodnight, I had a wonderful time.”

I drove home thinking about what a joy it was to be with someone mature enough to carry on a conversation and still find a way to be intimate without having to be horny and ready to screw. If she wanted to turn our dates into something more I wouldn’t resist, at the same time I wasn’t going to push it.

Monday morning I noticed a subtle change in Elma, her hair was done up, nothing fancy, but more than the usual, she’d put on a bit of makeup and what caught my eye immediately was the fact she was wearing lipstick, a subtle alluring shade of light red.

When she brought my usual I commented. “Really like the lipstick, is that the same color I had to wash off my face Saturday night?”

She blushed, “Shhh, people will hear you, and yes, it is. Do you really like it, or are you trying to curry favor with me?”

Between mouthfuls I uttered, “Both. Is it working?”

She patted my hand as she walked away, stopping a foot away she turned and looked in my eyes, “More than you know.”

As I was paying I gently took her hand, “I won’t see you again until Thursday, some sort of mandatory safety training. By the way, when did you say your birthday was?”

She laughed, “I didn’t sneaky Pete, it’s tomorrow if you must know.”

I wasn’t five miles down the road when my phone rang, it was Elma, without so much as a greeting she asked, “Where are you taking me for my birthday? Do you dance?”

“I do a little, not what the kids call dancing now, but I can still jitterbug and slow dance. Gleason’s has a dance hall attached that has a band on Saturday nights. Would you like to go there?”

Her voice sounded excited as she answered, “That sounds good, but I’ll forewarn you I can’t carry on like I did in my youth, I probably won’t last more than forty-five minutes on the dance floor.”

The rest of the day found me pondering new thoughts. After Saturday night I was certain she knew how to kiss with passion, and if I was being honest with myself I did feel aroused when we kissed, not enough for an erection, but it wouldn’t have taken much more. Her body was soft and inviting, I could barely feel her breasts against me, but they felt soft and caress able, who knows, maybe even suck able. Oh well, things of that nature would have to wait. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out why I was so enamored by this woman old enough to be my mom, especially when there was pussy half her age on call anytime I wanted it. Or was I latently having mommy issues? Nah, I’d never thought of mom in those terms.

On Sunday afternoon I got a booty call from one of the divorcees across the courtyard. I surprised myself when I turned her down using an upset stomach as an excuse. My stomach was just fine, and I don’t know what it was, but something inside told me to not go over and ravage her body. I ordered roses to be delivered to Elma at work Tuesday between mid-morning and lunch when they were the slowest.

When I walked into the diner Thursday morning there stood my sweet Elma behind the counter with a smile from ear to ear. When she brought me coffee she spoke in a loud whisper.

“If this place wasn’t full I’d kiss you right here. Thank you Paul, you made yesterday the best birthday ever and that’s saying a lot for a sixty-four-year-old broad.”

I patted her hand, “I made reservations at Gleason’s for six, is that too early?”

“Oh no, that will be perfect. I’m so excited, I haven’t danced in years.”

On Friday morning the roses were still displayed prominently on the far end of the counter, when I walked in she came around the counter, walked to me and gave me a hug with one arm while she balanced my coffee in her other hand. As I sat she snickered.

“They all suspect it’s you who sent the roses, so I thought I’d give them something to talk about. I’m taking tomorrow off to pamper myself, beauty parlor, a mani and pedi, you know, the usual stuff a girl does for her birthday dinner with a handsome man. That would be you by the way.”

It was an extremely busy morning, she told me she’d see me at five the next night and waved goodbye as I left. I decided Saturday night should be special and wore a brown windowpane suit, a light green dress shirt with French cuffs and a tie with similar colors. When she opened the door my eyes bugged out of my head, for 64 she sure looked inviting. A teal colored dress with three quarter sleeves, a scoop neck showing the beginning of cleavage, a flared skirt and matching heels, what caught my eye and made my dick want to rise was that her skirt was just a bit past midthigh. The shimmer of the stockings brought it all together.

She had the petite filet and I had the queen cut prime rib, end cut, both excellent meals. We made the choice to go sit in the bar until the band started at eight so others could eat. She had a glass of wine while I slowly drank two tap beers. As the band was setting up we found a booth at the back and waited. She kept saying “this is gonna be the best birthday yet” every few sentences.

We danced a few faster ones until the bump and grind crowd began to take over the floor, when a slow set began it was our turn. We were in the traditional dance position, my hand on the small of her back, her hand on my shoulder, her right hand in mine. As the first song neared the end she leaned forward and put her head on my chest, it also brought her body closer to mine. Having taken my coat off earlier I could feel the softness and warmth of her breasts, I also unexpectedly felt her tummy press softly against mine.

I was going to escort her to our booth when another slow song began, she stopped and moved in to dance with me. Once again her head was on my chest, this time her body was a bit closer than before, she seemed to be the aggressor in the situation so I let her have control. With the song about half over she looked up and kissed me, a long, soft deep kiss. When her tongue touched my lips I took over, drawing her in tight, tight enough she couldn’t help but feel my body.

Sitting in the booth she got a serious look on her face. “Paul, I’ve been talking with Timothy, my son, he wants me to move to Guam with him. It won’t be for another four months, but I’ve decided to go. I’m telling you this because tonight you’re going to give me the best birthday present ever.”

I sat back, “I am? And what might that be?”

She smiled, “You.” I pointed at myself and mouthed me? “Yes, you’re going to take me home and make love with me. Don’t say a word until I finish. I want you to be my lover until I leave, I’m old enough to know what I want, I don’t need to be wined and dined although I love the attention. You don’t strike me as the kiss and tell type, so, I’m going with my gut feeling. I haven’t had feelings toward a man like I do for you in a decade, I want to be loved and I want you to be my lover.”

Taking a deep breath she held her hand up for me to stay quiet, “I’m not a spring chick, I don’t have little tight pink titties any longer, mine are older and show a bit of sag, but they still possess some bounce. They tend to lay to the side some when I’m on my back but the nipples still point toward the ceiling. I have stretch marks and wrinkles and everything else that comes with my age. I’m sure I won’t be able to go all night like I once did, but there are lots of ways to satisfy and I’ll do my best to make sure you never go without. I’m going to the ladies, think about it and let me know when I return.”

In my mind there was nothing to think about beyond I would absolutely love to bed this older woman. When she returned I stood letting her move to the inside, looking at me she said, “Well?”

The way I answered startled her initially until she sensed what I was conveying. I put my right hand on the inside of her leg just above the knee and slid it up her inner thigh. Her first reaction was to close her legs tight, I didn’t move my hand as I looked in her eyes, she grinned and relaxed allowing my hand to move up over the stocking tops, then along the straps which weren’t attached to a belt but rather her panties. She let out a quiet “Uhhhh” when my fingers touched paradise, her panties weren’t wet but they were warm and damp, with her dress up I could smell her arousal. Sweet and tangy, mixed with a faint smell of her perfume, I remembered my ex would often put a dab on her upper thighs at times.

She put her hand over mine and moved it down as we kissed. “Do you like the garter panties? My mom always wore them, when I found them a few years ago I bought three pair, considering I prefer to wear stockings if it isn’t beastly hot I bought several more, it sure beats having to half undress to pee.”

With lust in her eyes she touched my face, “Take me home Paul, I haven’t felt this passionate in I don’t know how long. I want you to take me, to make me yours, now a days I think they call it owning a girl. I want that Paul, let’s go, I don’t want to wait any longer.”

I whispered to her, “We need to sit a minute, I’m sticking up like a flagpole.”

That comment brought her hand to my crotch where she rubbed up and down, “Oh my, you’re a big boy aren’t you. I think I’ve struck gold, I won’t touch you anymore until we’re in the car.”

My car doesn’t have one of those wide consoles, it’s narrow enough she could reach across and place her hand on the inside of my right thigh. She didn’t rub or grab my dick, her hand simply stayed on my thigh as if to say, “this is mine now”.

Things started slow at her house, we hung our coats, I ditched my suit jacket and sat on the couch while she fiddled with something in the coat closet, walking back to me she extended her hand.

“Come, we need to get busy before I get cold feet.”

In the bedroom she turned out the lights, leaving just enough light from outside to see, but without much detail. As she loosened my tie and unbuttoned my shirt I found the zipper in the back and pulled it down. Not a word was said as she pulled the shirt from my pants tossing it onto a chair, my pants were next leaving me in just underwear. I pulled the sleeves of the dress over her arms and let it drop, she stepped to the side so I could pick up my trousers and her dress placing them on the chair.

Standing in her full slip I reached for the hem lifting, as it got higher she raised her arms and let me remove it. With her in garter panties and a bra, me in only my underwear we stood looking at one another in the dark, taking a step to me she put her arms around my neck and kissed me tenderly before she spoke.

“Can we leave the lights out tonight? I don’t want you to see every wrinkle, stretch mark and blemish I have before you make love to me. You can see me in the morning if you want to, but can we do it in the dark? Please?”

With her arms around my neck and my lips on hers I unclasp the bra and pulled it forward, we pulled apart never looking anywhere but each other’s eyes. Sliding the bra off I cupped her breasts and used them to softly bring her body to mine, she giggled.

“Your chest hair tickles my nipples, I like that.”

I played with her breasts as we stood kissing, they weren’t all saggy and flopping down, there was droop, but then what woman doesn’t have some droop at sixty-four. They were soft and yet firm, as I caressed and shaped them with my hands she softly moaned into my mouth, when her hips tilted upward pushing into me I knew it was time to take over. I slowly pushed her back to the bed, when the back of her knees made contact with the mattress she buckled and sat, pushing her back into a prone position I hooked my fingers in the waist of her panties. When I said softly “lift” I was able to get them beneath her butt.

Unclipping the stockings she lay there, I rolled them down her legs and hung them on the chair with the rest, sliding the panties off I knelt looking at as much pussy as I could see in the moonlight. The hair was no longer dark, though her bush wasn’t very big it was still plentiful, long, and silky, between her legs there was just a narrow strip along the labia on each side. Leaning above her body I breathed her sensual aroma, not at all overwhelming and yet very inviting at the same time. When I kissed her mound though the hair she responded by putting her hand on my head playing with my hair.

“You don’t have to do that Paul.”

My response, “Oh yes I do, lay back Elma, let me take things from here.”

With a hand under each butt cheek I lifted her into my face, I kissed the vulva, her inner thighs and licked her from bottom to top with the flat of my tongue. She whimpered like a little girl, when the stiffness of my tongue spilt the outer labia she lifted her hips. As I licked upward my tongue opened the inner labia causing her to groan deeply and put her other hand on my head. Her hips were already undulating and I hadn’t touched her clit, deciding I’d teased enough I opened the hood over her clit and sucked the nub between my lips gently, all the while bathing it with my tongue.

Her hips were moving up and down as she continually whispered my name, “Paul, so good Paul, it’s been so long, so good.”

I felt her body begin to tighten along with a change in her breathing pattern, when she lifted her legs alongside her body and used her fingers to pull the labia apart exposing her clit I attacked. In seconds she let out a wail and her hands went to her breasts, squeezing, pulling them, pinching the nipples. Her hips were moving about the bed as she came and I was hanging on, I licked like a kitten at a milk saucer bringing her to more orgasms until she yelled, “No … no more … Please.”

I lay in the dark with a smile on my face, I was pleased that I’d brought this lovely older lady some satisfaction, that she felt relaxed and sated for the moment. Her breathing was light and sparse, as I sat she dozed off while I watched her body in the diffused light. She was right, her breasts did splay to the sides a little, her tummy was flat, I ran my fingers through her bush enjoying the softness caressing my fingers. As her eyes opened she reached out her arms beckoning to me.

Taking the initiative I lowered my lips to kiss her breast, she instantly put her hand under it and shaped it into a cone, the nipple being prominently centered, I sucked it into my mouth. Another deep groan, I was feeling quite proud of myself. When I switched to the other side she did the same, offering up a nipple to suck on, another groan followed by a series of choppy breaths. I found myself wondering if she’d cum from nipple paly alone.

With her hands on the sides of my head she lifted me to kiss her, when we broke she pulled back and stroked my face.

“You sweet man, you didn’t have to do that. I could never understand why a man would want to do such a thing, I always thought it was repugnant. My late husband would never do that, but now that I’ve tasted myself on your lips it isn’t bad at all. I wouldn’t want to taste anyone else, but now I know I’m not nasty down there.”

“Nasty? Not in the least, you have a lovely inviting aroma, it very much strikes at the essence of my libido, I’m so hard it hurts.”

“Would you want me to do the same for you? I’m not very talented but I’ll try to make you happy.”

I stroked her hair, “Nope, what I want is to be inside you, I want your sweet pussy wrapped around my dick sucking the life out of me. Hopefully my language doesn’t gross you out.”

“If it were anywhere but my bedroom it probably would, I’ve never had a man say the things you just did. It’s kind of naughty, but I think I like it when you talk dirty to me, I always wondered what it would be like to be a naughty girl. Can I be your naughty girl?”

“Open your legs Elma, I have a meat treat for your kitty. I’ll go slow until you let me know you’re ready to take it all.”

As I rose over her she put both hands on my chest, “Just how big are you Paul? It seems awfully long and fat.”

“I think I’m pretty average, my ex measured me once with her sewing tape measure and I know I’m bigger than six inches. No one has complained yet. Is that an issue?”

She chuckled, “No, not at all, I was only curious. Women don’t care how big a guy is if he uses it right, well, unless his is real short and skinny. What did the hubby call somebody like that? Oh yeah, a pencil dick. And that isn’t you Paul, let me put a drop or two of KY on you and then I want my birthday gift.”

I stayed raised above her as she put a few drops on the head of my dick and smoothed it around, lowering myself slightly aligning myself with her vagina I stopped.

“You put it in Elma, show me you really want it.”

Reaching between us she grabbed the shaft and put it at the opening to her vagina, when I felt the tip touch and open her sex I pushed lightly, she was tight but not enough to keep me out. With about half my dick inside she let out a little sigh.

“So big, so much to put inside me.”

I laughed softly, “It’s only halfway.”

“HALFWAY. My God man, you’ll split me in two. Go slow, I can take it, just go slow.”

I did as she asked, taking shallow strokes until I felt her hips move ever so slightly into my down stroke, I pushed a bit farther into her, she was making soft mewling noises and then shocked the hell out of me.

“Yes, just like that. Fill my pussy with your cock, bury that meat deep, give this old lady the screwing of her life. I need this Paul, I need you.”

I loved the sensation of my thick fat head opening her while her vaginal walls grabbed the shaft, sending sensations and feelings of bliss throughout my body. Working myself in further and further as we continued I finally hit bottom, I grunted, she stiffened, I could see a faint smile, her hands went to my ass cheeks and held me against her body.

“Do I have it all? Good. Then make long tender love to me, you can rip me a new pussy tomorrow, tonight will be a first time in a long time, I need it slow and gentle.”

I took a few short strokes to start, pulling out a few inches and then re-entering, by the eight or tenth stroke I was all the way out to the head and then pushed into her completely, she moaned and said softly.

“Oh my, oh yes, oh yes, so deep, so good, you make my pussy tingle, keep doing that.”

I can generally tell when a woman is going to orgasm, there are usually telltale signs of some sort, there had been when I was eating her. Not this time, she suddenly pushed her hips into mine, clamped her hands onto my shoulders digging her nails in, her head was back as she let out a long drawn out moan followed by deep breaths and her body being almost motionless. I didn’t slow down, I continued to stroke, as I felt the rockets getting ready to launch within her hungry old cunt she was now showing signs of another climax, both physically and audibly.

“Cum, cum in me. I want to feel you shoot inside me, I love that feeling. It’s been so long, fill my pussy with your warm creamy sperm, make an old lady feel young again. Fuck me Paulie, fuck me.”

I found myself wondering where that language had come from as I continued driving into her, gone was the “be tender and gentle”, she wanted it planted deep and I was going to oblige. I picked up speed and pushed harder into her, she seemed to relish that, putting her feet on the mattress, bending her knees and driving up into me. As I slammed forward on last time she let loose a scream that could have woken the dead, her body was shaking this time, my balls were erupting inside her hot steamy pussy.

“Oh, I feel it, I feel it. Keep shooting into me, keep shooting. Oh, my it feels so good. Thank you, thank you for giving me the best birthday present ever. You’ve brought the girl in me back to the surface. Thank you.”

I found it interesting and erotic at the same time. I’d never had a woman thank me for making love to her, and certainly not for filling her pussy with a large load of cum that would soon be seeping from her body, trickling toward the sheets. It was a renewal for Elma, it was a first for me. After breakfast the next morning she modeled the garter panties for me, she kept complaining about how old her body looked, I’d finally had enough.

Taking her face in my hands I lifted her to look in my eyes, “You need to stop talking like that, if I found your body repulsive I would go. I don’t need to flatter you for some sex, it’s everywhere these days. I was in bed with you because I wanted to, not because I needed or had to. I find you exciting, I love those

panties and stockings, if you want to make me hard, just let me know you’re wearing that stuff. So, stop talking like that.”

She changed quickly wanting to be screwed in stockings and a belt, with her legs pointed upward I ravaged her body fucking her with mucho gusto until we reached the point of no return. As I filled her body a second time with thick warm liquid squirting from my cock she squirmed and told me how good it felt to have a cock in her.

“Before today I hadn’t felt a cock paint my insides for years, god how I’ve missed that.”

We took a break that afternoon, I needed to get home and a decent night sleep before my morning run, she said she needed to rest or she’d be walking funny for a few days. In the diner Monday morning she didn’t hold back at all, walking to me she kissed me and sat on my lap.

“Good morning Paul. Would you like the usual?”

People were staring at us, we didn’t care, in a low voice I muttered, “What I’d like is you sitting on top riding me.”

Getting up she kissed me again and whispered in my ear, “Come around by five, I’ll have supper ready and you can have me for dessert.”

Over the next four months we tried every position her body could tolerate, she especially liked it from behind with a wedge beneath her tummy to take the pressure off her knees. She was proving the title of the old country song, “Older Women Are Beautiful Lovers” to be entirely true. Within two weeks of our initial get together she stopped working at the diner, my breakfast stops were now at her house where I didn’t always get around to having breakfast. She lived just outside town on a country road, plenty of room to park my rig.

Once I’d woken that sleeping beast within there was no holding her back. I’d gotten my first blow job from her in the kitchen, we’d christened the table, all three kitchen counters, the washing machine and dryer, every room and nearly every piece of furniture in her house. I learned more about the nuances of sex than I ever imagined, the little pats or rubs on my butt as she walked by, gently brushing her chest across mine even though there could have been three feet between us, the stolen kisses, the gentle squeeze of my dick where she thought no one would see.

Before meeting Elma I had become calloused toward the supposed deepness of love between two people, day by day, week by week, she brought me out of that funk. No, we weren’t going to spend the next thirty years having and raising babies, but little by little she was teaching me love can exist in a monogamous relationship. I’d heard my mother say many times, “sex begins in the kitchen”, but never knew what it meant until Elma. Beside our morning soiree’s I would stop in three to four nights a week, if we hadn’t been active in the morning we were at night. I could tell she was tiring as the weeks progressed, when I brought up slowing down to once or twice a week she would have nothing to do with it.

“I’m not going to do that Paul. I’ll never have a season like this again, we aren’t in this for life, although I think we love each other, I’m going to screw you until the day I leave for Guam. Tim is coming home to fly back with me, the day before he is due to arrive you’re going to take off and make love to me as many times as we can in one day. I’ll leave for Guam knowing this grey-haired old pussy was loved and filled with cum right to the very end.”

“What about the house and land Elma, are you going to sell it?”

“Oh, that’s all taken care of.”

I found myself disappointed, I would have loved to buy the place. When that sad day came I took them to the airport, we hadn’t shown any sign of affection in her son’s presence until their boarding call was announced. As we stood she turned to me, walked into my arms, pressing her body into mine as we kissed passionately one last time.

Softly stroking my face she said, “Goodbye my lover. This has been one of the most exciting four months of my life. I’ll never forget you, know in your heart that I’ll always love you. Now that I’m going I want you to find a wife and have some babies. You have too much to offer to be single. Bye lover boy.”

As they walked away I overheard him say, “Lover boy?”

She chuckled, “Your mama isn’t as old as you think young man. I had needs … he took care of them.”

As they approached the chute she turned and waved with a kiss goodbye, smiling from ear to ear. I never did see her again, I got a card from her every year at Christmas until she died, it was her son who sent the card that year telling me his mom had passed.

I did as she told me, I found a wife, in fact it was the farm girl who took Elma’s place when she left. Her name is Fran, becoming my wife only four months after we’d formerly met. She stopped working the diner when she was three months pregnant with our first. We live on what used to be Elma’s place, a week after she’d arrived in Guam I was called by a lawyer and asked to meet him, I wasn’t quite sure what awaited me. I sat in amazement as he handed me the deed to what had been Elma’s home, she had given it to me. Now that we have three more running in the yard I can picture her sitting on the deck watching the kids play with a smile on her face.

As for Fran, she’s the quintessential school mom, soccer mom, housewife and lover. She rocks my world in the bedroom and everywhere else for that matter. When I look at her and our family I’m daily reminded how an older woman was able to bring me back to that place of trust and loving someone after so much hurt earlier in my life. She may have been nearly thirty years older than me, but in the end we were both what the other needed.

The post Older Women appeared first on sexstories.org.