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Beforehand, I need to offer my gratitude to CIAOSTEVE, for his editorial skills and a lot more. Without his patience and suggestions this piece would have been non-publishable
There I sat, on her porch, six weeks into our isolation, trying to make the best of this crisis. I was feeling mellow as our little ‘happy hour’ had led us to consume a bit more wine than we should have. It was late afternoon and thank God that it was only a mile drive down the gravel road.
Our neighbors from the adjoining ranch had fled the city and left for the country with their eighteen-year-old, seeking a safer environment.
I had not been intimate friends with Helen before the Covid-19 crisis, but being the only outlet for face-to-face contact, we often visited each other.
“Tell me about your first time,” she blurted.
I was a bit taken back as she usually came across as very prim and proper. I leaned back feeling the buzz, closed my eyes, and thought back to that weekend thirty-some years ago when an ‘older guy’, probably in his early thirties, seduced me and took my cherry.
“It was beautiful,” I told her, reminiscing about that day; it was spring break, and I met him at South Padre Island.
“He had a way with words… he was sweet… he lavished me with attention and never made a move against me until I asked him to. When it finally did happen, I was so primed that it felt natural, so easy, so meant to be. I didn’t go through the trauma that many of my friends tell me about.”
It was her turn to tell her story.
“I fumbled around with some kids early on,” she told me, “but my best experience was with a married man that worked at the place where I did my summer internship. He swept me off my feet, and I spent a good part of my afternoons in his arms, learning the finer points of sex.”
As we traded stories, her son walked in, plopped himself onto a couch in the corner, and started playing with his phone. He was a tall, good-looking college student who had headed home for spring break, unaware that it would turn into weeks, then months of isolation.
“Mathew, mind your manners and say hello to Anna,” she told him, and I was treated to a ‘Good evening Mam’ that rudely reminded me that I was more than twice his age.
“How are you coping?” I asked.
“Shoot, thank God for the phone because I haven’t seen my friends since school let out.”
He leaned over to ask his mom something, smiled at me, then got up to leave. As he walked past me, I couldn’t help but notice his tight little butt.
Helen must have seen the look on my face because she smiled.
“Quite handsome, isn’t he?”
All I could do was to assent, a wine enhanced blush on my face.
She leaned over, still smiling, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“He is a bit shy, but perhaps a young man can benefit from an experienced woman as much as we did from older men.”
The comment threw me for a loop. We had consumed way too much wine, but I must confess, the comment led to a sensation of butterflies between my thighs. As I headed home, my feral instincts must have taken over because I began to feel a glow in my belly as inappropriate thoughts flooded my mind. I shook my head, dispelling the very idea.
‘Never mind,’ I told myself, ‘by tomorrow morning, a raging headache will replace your lust.’
However, this was not the case. Instead that night I had pleasant dreams and woke up thinking about nothing but our chat.
It took me a few days to gather my courage. I was tempted to call Helen, then would hesitate, but each day of this isolation increased my distress. I finally broke down and called her, still not quite sure about how I would handle the conversation.
My hesitation was unfounded as she was the one to bring up the subject,
“You think you have cabin fever! He has been pacing around the house like a caged lion. Can you imagine what his hormones are doing?”
“I’ll be over early tomorrow morning,” I told her, “this is something best we discuss face to face.”
I took our Polaris Ranger next morning and headed down the road and invited her for a ride. We parked in a pretty bluff overlooking the river and had a heart to heart.
It was a beautiful South Texas spring day, not too hot, not too cold.
Again, I came armed with a bottle of chilled white as to ease the conversation, and we settled down and talked.
As a mother, she was concerned about his needs and felt that with her complicity I could concoct a plan to soothe them.
We took the opportunity to pick a bucket of dewberries, and as we foraged, I came up with the idea of baking a couple of dewberry pies and have her send him over to pick one up.
Well, she wholeheartedly agreed, and the plan was set.
I headed home and ignoring all the scratches from foraging the berries, I set about baking, and putting my plans in motion.
What first crossed my mind was the notion that this kid is less than half my age and has been dating girls even younger. How is Esenyurt Escort he going to react to the body of a woman my age, plus the lockdown had taken a toll, I had not been to the hairdresser in months, nor had I indulged in a manicure or pedicure and my bush was overgrown.
I stood in front of a three way dressing mirror we have in our bedroom and did an honest evaluation. My face, well my face is my best asset; my eyes and lips are a frequent target of compliments. I have long lashes, and I have been told sexy eyes while my lips are full and pouty.
The rest of my face looks good for fifty and as I continue to scan downwards, my breasts are full. Not as perky as they once were but not a problem. My belly is flat, and I have a good waistline, the skin is pristine as I have never carried a child. My legs are not long but they are muscular and defined thanks to my past dancing. I needed enough primping to keep me busy for a couple of hours, so I got busy.
The last step was to get my bush prettied up and then decide what to wear. By then the pies were cooling so I just threw on a white terrycloth robe, a pair of high heeled slippers and very light makeup.
I was as ready, yet still had doubts, so I made the call. It seemed to take forever before she answered.
“Yes, it’s me. It is all set up. Are you sure about this?”
“I am positive, Anna. Enjoy yourself and make sure the two of you have fun. I’ll send him on his way.”
She hung up. I could only imagine her follow-on conversation, as she asked Mathew to be as kind as to pick up a pie that Ms. Anna had baked for us.
I waited and soon heard the put-put of his ATV approaching. I had set the table on the porch, my chair positioned slightly higher and facing his so I might have a visual vantage point. I prepared some lemonade for him, poured a cup of Sancerre for myself, grapes, hummus, and chips for both, and waited.
He strolled in, seemingly oblivious to my plans. To set the tone of the visit, as soon as he arrived, I gave him a peck on the lips, grabbed his arms with my hands, and suggested he took a seat. As I encouraged him to sit, I made sure to brush my covered breasts against his arm.
I sat across from him and started a conversation, but due to our age difference, I could find little common ground, so I concentrated on small talk. The more we chatted, the more I crossed and uncrossed my legs, allowing my robe to ride a little higher each time.
I inquired about school, then tried to steer the conversation in a more personal way.
“Tell me about your girlfriend,” I asked.
He became a bit evasive.
“Well, it’s nothing serious. We have only been dating for a few months.”
I pushed on, leaning forward to appear more attentive but really with the intention of allowing my gown to drape open and expose more pale skin.
“I was just curious,” I added. “Do you miss her? At your age, it must be hard to be locked up with your parents for this long, and… you know… without company.”
“Yes, it sucks. I came home for spring break, and then this Covid thing happened, and I have been a prisoner ever since.”
His eyes were wandering. I could see that he was trying to get a better look down the front of my robe but being subtle about it. I gave him the opportunity, but it was obvious that this wouldn’t go anywhere unless I became more brazen.
‘He is eighteen,’ I thought to myself. ‘He can decide for himself. I am going for it.’
I stood, inches away from his face, took his hands in mine and motioned him to stand. As he did, I let the top of my gown fall open, naked breasts dangling free inside the soft fabric.
“I feel lonely at times too,” I whispered, pulling him towards me as I gave him my best come fuck me smile.
He got it. Oh yes, he took the bait and his eyes shined. I looked up at him, my lips sensually parted in an open invitation. He didn’t miss the opportunity. We kissed; our tongues intertwined. Our lips devoured each other hungrily. My gown now hung open at the top, my full breasts on display. I guided his face downwards and soon had him kissing and nibbling across my neck, my shoulders, and then towards my breasts, where my nipples stood like hard rocks awaiting him. He kneaded my breasts with fascination, and I dropped my first bomb.
He lost it, latching his mouth to my nipples, rolling them, sucking. Every touch sent shockwaves through my body, fueling excitement and desire in equal measures. I felt that squirming feeling between my thighs that made me squeeze my thighs together.
I had him, but I wanted so much more. I took him by the hand and walked him towards my bedroom, motioning to him to sit on a dressing stool I had on one side. I took a seat on the edge of the bed, facing him. The gown was now no more than a hindrance, so I let it fall off my shoulders, soft fabric piled over my legs, keeping my womanly sex out of sight for now. I reached forward and unbuttoned his shirt, marveling at his İstanbul Escort muscular build as it fell open. His belt was next. He took me by surprise, standing without being asked. I drew down his shorts to see a wet stain on his briefs overlying what looked like a very nice cock. I looked up into his eyes as I pulled them off, but my focus soon shifted to a magnificent rod, hard as steel, throbbing in my face.
“My God you look so beautiful” I said as I sought the source of his wetness to find that lo and behold, the young man was uncircumcised. My interest increased another notch—I was like a girl with a new toy having spent years enjoying hubby’s circumcised cock—and I found myself toying with his foreskin, easing it back and forth over his shiny glistening head.
Holding his cock in one hand, I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his exposed head. Pushing my tongue forward, I flicked the tip across his engorged head, feeling him twitch with my every touch. Without warning, I felt a string of wetness seep out, the saltiness of pre-cum exciting my tastebuds. By the time I slipped my Dewberry-stained hand around his balls, the knot behind his sac was throbbing as if he was about to cum.
If my attention was getting him all hot and bothered, you cannot fathom the effect the young man was having on me. I could feel the ache down below, that tell-tale tingle of desire. I didn’t have to look to know that I was swollen and wet, and I wanted him to see just how aroused he had made me. I gasped as he slid his fingers down my belly towards my hidden sex. I mentally urged him onwards as he slid his fingers beneath the half-discarded gown. The moment he caressed my mound, his expression changed.
“Yes, I have hair,” I told him.
This comment led to a jolt, he stopped for a few seconds then began to fondle me. Wanting to exploit his curiosity, I leaned backward and spread my thighs, pulling open the remainder of the gown, giving him a full view of my pussy. He was treated to a halo of moist hairs, framing my engorged and now glistening lips. I could feel the entrance to my pussy rhythmically contracting, beckoning as an invitation to invade.
All the time, I had continued to hold his huge manhood, stroking from time to time as I felt his excitement build inside. He leaned over to kiss me. His quick breathing was a bit of a giveaway. I knew he was about to lose it, and I was not going to miss the opportunity to have him spill himself inside me. Surprising him, I pulled back from his attempted kiss.
“Come here! Come here now!” I told him as I shuffled my ass towards the edge of the bed and, with one hand, guided his manhood towards my pink funnel.
I held my breath, anticipating the feeling of his youthful manhood as he inched towards my engorged lips. I gasped as our bodies met, his shiny head nestling up against my moist pussy. Easing back his foreskin, I worked his head between my soft folds and placed him at my entrance. Lifting my hips slightly I released my grip on his cock and placed my hands on his waist. I waited, hoping, longing to feel him slip inside.
“Yes,” I screamed as, in one firm movement, he leant forward and sank his cock into me.
My wet folds engulfed him, feeling every inch of his girth fill me out. I didn’t wait for him to fuck me yet, but simply held him there, enjoying the sensation of fullness. Slowly, maybe subconsciously, I eased my hips back and forth, letting my pussy walls work his shaft. I listened to his every sound, how his breathing was quickening again, a soft moan leaving his lips as I continued to caress his manhood. And then I said it.
“Do you want me to be your other mommy?”
For a moment there was silence as he pondered what I had said. I took my hand off his waist and waited. It didn’t take long to feel his answer, as he pulled off then thrust hard into my sodden sex. I moaned myself as he started to pound excitedly at my pussy. Within seconds his eyes had gone wide, his back arched and he stiffened. One moan, one final thrust, as deeply as he could, and then I felt it, his seed flooding my waiting pussy. It was all I needed to push myself to the peak of that rollercoaster, before suddenly dropping me to rise and fall in waves till I collapsed into a sweaty, breathless mass.
We lay there, spent, sweaty, in a state of post-coital bliss for a while. Once our breathing normalized, we recovered from the intensity of this first encounter. We both dressed again. I led him back through the kitchen, picking up a Dewberry pie on the way, and out onto the porch. He stood there, staring back at me, a muddled look on his face as if contemplating just what had happened and what he should say next. I didn’t leave him pondering too long. With warmth still inside, and a flow of juices seeping down my leg, I smiled back at him saying.
“Go now. You are expected at home, with this pie… but I would love for you to visit again.”
He nodded in agreement, not saying a word. I gave him a peck, a hug, and he left Beylikdüzü Escort with a brisk spring to his gait.
I spoke with his mom the next morning and told her that she should be proud, and that I would love to be his mentor. That was the start of his education.
Two days later Yesterday afternoon, his mom and I conspired on the next step. As she was unaware of my husband’s complicity in my sex life, I told her that he would be away. Perhaps it’s time to digress, so you may better understand our relationship. I have been married for twenty years to a wonderful man, twenty-five years my senior, and twice divorced before we met. We are madly in love with each other. Yet, early in our relationship, we realized that neither of us was equipped to deal with monogamy, and being acceptant of each other’s needs was critical for our relationship’s success. We had shared a little one-to-one private ceremony, and in our vows, we promised to be emotionally faithful to each other but to leave a door open to explore our sexual needs outside the marriage. It worked for us, and here we are twenty years later, we remain together, and although his age and diabetes have taken a toll on our sex life, we still indulge in what we call ‘domestic sex.’
Back to my narrative, she was to tell him he needed to blow off some steam and why not go out on his bike. When she phoned me the following morning, there was an exciting edge to her voice. She told me he couldn’t have been more eager, how he had said that it was a great idea, that he needed the exercise, and hauled his ass quickly out the door. I went back to working in the garden, hoping his eagerness would lead him to cycle my way. He didn’t disappoint. I greeted him dressed in a blouse and shorts. The days were getting warmer, and I felt scuzzy and sweaty. I invited him to sit and share some tea, but he had come on a mission and made that very clear by the way he looked at me. We were way past pretenses, so I walked him to the bathroom, turning the shower on as we entered. As he stood there, I undressed in front of him, teasingly removing my blouse, shorts, and knickers until I stood naked in front of him. Just as I disappeared behind the shower door and into the misty waters, I turned back to the lad and smiled.
“Aren’t you going to join me then?” Moments later, I was no longer alone. We kissed, hugged, laughed, and soaped each other, and soon I found myself holding a steel bar again. Today, I would take my time and thoroughly enjoy that beautiful cock that nature had blessed him with. I grasped him only to find I could not get my hand completely around it, peeled his foreskin back as to admire his shiny, smooth engorged head with a stream of viscid fluid oozing from his pee hole.
“You should be so proud,” I whispered as I looked deep into his eyes. Slowly I knelt. Torrents of warm water cascaded over my neck and shoulders as I lowered my lips towards him and fondled his sack with my other hand. I began to work on him, bent on the idea that I would give him the best oral experience he had ever felt. I licked his shaft, kept him wet while my lips surrounded him, urging him, and my hand felt his sack contracting, then rippling with a life of its own.
I did my best, nibbling at the bottom of his knob, licking, sucking till I felt him tense, then stopping. I would wait until he calmed down and then resume my efforts. I kept him at the brink until I saw a pleading look in his eyes, the young lad breathing deeply as I tormented him. I redoubled my endeavors, and the lad took it as his cue. He began to thrust, practically fucking my mouth as I knelt there. I tried to take him in completely, feeling his head nudge against the back of my mouth.
Still, I sucked at his cock, working him with my lips as he continued to work his head in and out. I felt his balls contract, his shaft jerk, and then the inevitable. I swallowed as best I could as he flooded my mouth with a torrential amount of warm young sperm. He fell back spent, and as he caught his breath, he said to me, “You swallowed it! You swallowed every drop! None of my girlfriends have done that.”
And then I sat between his knees with my ‘the cat that got the cream.’ look on my face. If he thought that was it, a quick blow job, then a ride back home, I had other ideas. Dried, I took hold of his now limp cock and, using it as a handle, guided him to the bedroom. I climbed up onto the bed, rolled on my back, and smiled. “My turn now!” He confessed his curiosity and fascination for my furry pussy, and I was more than eager for him to explore to his heart’s content.
All he needed was the right encouragement. “I’m all yours. Do anything you wish,” I whispered to him, pouting my lips seductively and spreading my thighs. He was like a kid with a new toy. He gazed at me, played with my lips, eased my folds apart, slid two fingers in me. I took his hands in mine and guided his fingers to that magic spot. I encouraged him, and he began to massage my magic spot till he must have felt me tighten, then loosen, tighten once more. I had taken his hand in both of mine and was thrusting with desperation when I arched my back, gasping, screaming, exploding, and squirting like a fountain. He looked bewildered, then caught on and became so proud of himself!
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