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In Praise of Older Woman

By: Anonymous_stranger



When I was in college I had an affair with a woman in her early 40s, and I've loved and respected mature sexuality ever since. There's something about a woman who... knows stuff...

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In Praise of Older Women



An older man falling for younger women is legendary. In truth, a large part of the attraction is biological. Deep down in the man's genes, something tells him that this woman can reproduce. He can get all the evidence he needs by just looking at her. Her thick hair, not yet tainted by dye. Her smooth skin, not lined by years of laughing or disappointment, damaged by the sun or puffy under the eyes from sleepless night caring for an ill child or parent. Her legs not streaked with veins from working all day standing or simply age. Her tight body not yet affected by the strain of child bearing or the ravages of gravity. 

Even heavy girls still look good when they're young. All of these outward signs of beauty, vitality and youth can be attributed to younger women's mission to find a man to propagate the human race. This age, let's say young women of 21 to 35, is generally their peek. The attraction by men is understandable, human nature.

By the same token, why is it that women frequently find strong men, aggressive men and men in uniform attractive? Big, strong, good hunter, provider. Uniform, protector, hero, patriot. Yes, soldiers, cops and firemen are chick magnets.

A beautiful young woman has a power that's undeniable. I mean real POWER. It's shocking what a man will do to curry the favor of a lovely young thing. Even a very successful, world-wise man. He'll do things that in business, sports or any other aspect of his life would be unthinkable. Use his time, money and energy to please her. Act in ways that make his friends cringe, if he has time for his friends any more. Place his family and all he holds dear on a back burner as though he's a puppet on a string. 

A gorgeous young woman can, if she is savvy or trained enough, have nearly anything she wants in life. She can get it from a young man her age and nothing but potential all the way to a wealthy man who has everything, except the one thing he wants most: the love of something strikingly beautiful. It can make him feel better than everyone else, the envy of other men. Even women look at him differently. What does he have that attracts this beautiful woman? Must be SOMETHING. 

Nothing makes an older man feel younger than a beautiful girl on his arm. Athletes, businessmen, movie stars and musicians, they all attract beautiful women with their money and prestige, it's one of the perks of the occupation. 

And the sex. If a woman is beautiful and sexual...my God. Her power increases tenfold. What is sexual? In my view, a sexual woman is someone who is aware of her sex appeal, knows how to use it, and honestly likes or even loves sex. Think of your favorite female celebrity, porn star or model. 

Now think of how sexy they'd be in religious garb (watch it now!) or a prison outfit with no makeup or hairdo. See, it's not just looks. A sexual women knows how to make the most of her looks AND attitude to attract men like bees to honey.

If you take this all to mean that I think that older women are something to be ignored or discarded, you've come to the wrong article. I am just explaining what young women have that's so appealing. I think even older women would agree. Please keep in mind that when I say older I don't mean ELDERLY, I mean older than in her twenties or early thirties, all the way to late 50s or even early sixties. 

Let's talk non-sexual for a minute. I know, I know, it's so unlike me. Just give me a moment, I'll be talking about blowjobs and serious fucking any minute.

Girls are fun and cute. But a woman has had some life experience. She knows what she likes, and it's not usually Burger King for a date. She can talk about a movie in terms of plot and substance, not just "he's so cute." She can cook a good meal and usually has a few that are outstanding. She knows how to dress casually and formally, and doesn't have to ask you 50 times if she looks alright. She's got patience. She doesn't play head games, and won't allow them to be played on her. 

A girl is fun to be with, but a woman can be really good company. Great to talk to, challenging. A women can be good with adults AND children. She's been there, done that. Things don't freak her out. You ask her for a favor, she returns with results, not excuses. A mature, sexy, confident women is a truly beautiful thing. A world apart from a perky little girl - not that there's anything wrong with them.

And don't get me wrong. A mature woman can fun, sassy and absolutely adorable. That's not a territory populated solely by girls. Not by a long shot. But they have the maturity and composure to handle it when things go bad, and that kind of support is priceless.

As for the sex with an older women...

OK, first the bad news. If a girl is not all that interested in sex to begin with, the chances of that changing simply because she grows older are slim. I hope this truth doesn't hurt, but it IS honest. She may possibly become more interested in sex, but her lack of experience at trying things is a serious drawback, unless of course she's read ALL of my how-to articles! 

Or, it may go the other way, and her interest in sex may flag even further - a disaster. I would be willing to bet that, admittedly or not, this situation in the reason for many a split as a man in his forties - a man like me - realizes that it's never going to get better. 

But the good news is that if a woman was indeed interested in sex when she was younger, then her desire may very well deepen or even increase just at the time her experience is far greater then it was when she was a teen or younger woman. Some combination, huh?

Why might this happen, you ask? Or is it just a fantasy of mine? First, yes of course it's a fantasy of mine. An attractive, mature sex-starved female looking at me as the solution to her problem, like a lion looks at an antelope as a night at Outback Steak House? Yeah, I'd say it's a fantasy - so would half of Hollywood. 

But in this case in can be real. I can not count - literally can not count - the feedback letters I've received from women whose husbands have lost interest in sex, at least with them. Just lost interest. Leaving them high and dry (pardon the pun) just at the time they want sex most. It's sad, really. And not too great for the confidence or self-esteem, I'd wager.

No woman should have to beg her husband for sex, just as no man should have to plead with his wife. What can she say? "Please, find me attractive, want sex as much as I do, want to keep the feeling alive, try different things, make it fun. Don't you realize that I can be a lot more than I am? That I can be that wild chick you want, if you'd let me? That I think about sex all day when I'm at work, or you're at work, and then I'm let down every night when we roll over and go to sleep? That I never thought it would be this way at this stage in my life? That of all the men I could have had I chose you, and now you're no longer interested just when I need affirmation of my attractiveness most?"

This is not a feeling restricted to women, men feel it, too. But, this article is about women.

I get emails about my stories from younger women all the time - love them. Aside from a few who are wise beyond their years, they usually say thanks for the tips, they wanted to make sure they were doing it right. They sometimes ask me questions or make comments such as, "Do all girls swallow?" "I suck his penis and he says it feels good but he doesn't cum, why?" "Do all guys lick their balls touched or licked?" "Touch his asshole, are you sure?" 

The emails I get from older women are the ones that make me squirm in my chair, barely able to type out a quick "thanks." They're the ones who give ME tips. They tell me how much they love to suck their man's cock, how they love to suck his balls, rub him all over, make him purr with delight. They advise me how to eat pussy not just like a champ, but like an emperor! Talk about getting advice from the source. I have found that with few exceptions it is the older women, not the younger ones, who have sex on the brain...a lot.

God, I wish you folks could see some of these emails. They're the reason I'm writing this story, what inspired and informed me. When I perform medical writing, every claim must be sourced, annotated. Believe me, every claim I've made in this story is sourced.

I've received emails from women who tell me, in testicle-aching detail, about the things they'd like to do to their husbands and sometimes have done, with little or no response or appreciation. Things that would make me crawl across the carpet and kiss their feet for. Not literally...well, maybe literally. It's hard to imagine a man saying, "You bought that at Victoria's Secret? How much?" Instead of "Wow! Come here!" A man saying, "No, I don't want to watch you masturbate in front of me, you can do that when you're alone." Instead of "Would it turn me on to watch you look into my eyes, rub your pussy and moan until you cum? Is Bill Gates rich?" How about this one - no kidding. "Why would I want to fuck your ass while you've got a perfectly good pussy?" Oh, I don't know. Why would you want to win a trip to Hawaii when the Jersey shore is so close?

Some of my favorite emails are from women who finally disengaged from their partner, for reasons not simply sexual, and began a relationship with a new, more appreciative lover. Now they're living their fantasies, fucking in new ways and new places. Receiving the oral sex they've always dreamed of and becoming a cum factory. Unleashing the wonton sexual beast their former partner allowed to remain hidden, or perhaps put into hiding in the first place.

Some of these women have found younger men. They like the idea of a guy cumming three or fours times. An hour. Younger men can be so appreciative of older woman. And they should be.

But others have found that men who have been around the block a few times more, older men if I may painfully use the phrase, have even more to offer. 

When we're sitting behind you, rubbing your shoulders and nuzzling your neck as you sip your wine and listen to the soft music. When we reach around you and caress your breasts in our hands, flicking our thumbs across your nipples until they stick out into space on their own. Experienced hands move down, gently rubbing your belly as the moisture builds within you, whispering into your ear how lovely you are, moving faster towards the sensations that will make you shiver...again and again. 

You know we're not some young boy just aching to cum. We're men, grown men, delighting in the feelings we're producing within you. Aching to make YOU cum. We'll get to our needs later.

Ladies, be proud, be patient. Tell your man exactly what you want and how you want it. Tell them what you want done and what you want to do. Do not suffer in silence, do not suffer at all, please. You are appreciated. Because if you're not, you certainly can be. You're not alone. I can't possibly be the only man that feels this way. If I am...it's a big country out there, I'd better get busy...

I hoped you enjoyed reading my story. As always I write from the heart. I appreciate your votes, but even more, the kind words and emails you send me. Please, keep them up. 



In Praise of Older Women



From the word go I was interested in older women. No, obsessed would be the better word for it. In those days, of course, that meant just about all women, if you disregarded the giggling, barely pubescent girls who seemed from another planet.

No, it wasn't them I was interested in - it was their older sisters and mothers, and the mothers and aunts of my friends that fascinated me.

Take Dougie's mum - and my fantasy was to do just that. Dougie was my best friend in Que Que (pronounced Kwe Kwe), a town on the main train line between Bulawayo and Salisbury (now Harare) in the old Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). At 18 I had no brothers or sisters so I loved the rough-and-tumble atmosphere of the railway family's home where Dougie and his three siblings (one younger brother, and an older brother and sister) lived in happy chaos.

And then there was Marge. Lustrous dark-brown hair, jutting bosom, shapely calves and infectious laugh, pushing 40 and probably 15 pounds overweight - my idea of the perfect woman. 

Marge was of the opinion that one more mouth to be fed made little difference so I spent a lot of time there - and as she was pretty careless about dressing and undressing, she provided my first lessons in the female anatomy.

She seldom closed the door to the bedroom she shared with husband Bill, who said little and seemed to spend most of his time off in a train somewhere, so she was often to be glimpsed pulling a dress over her head, with tantalising displays of lace-edged, well-filled (sometimes bulging) white bras, sensible nylon panties, wispy halfslips. What would make my heart pound most was when she sat on the bed in bra and halfslip, a leg and panties exposed as she attached a stocking to her suspender belt.

Marge was not unaware of the effect she had on my testosterone-fevered libido, often teasing me about girls - that she was sure I would be a heartbreaker and how she wished she was 20 years younger.

"Those lucky girls, in a couple of years you'll have to fight them off, and by that time I'll be an old bag."

"You will never, ever be an old bag," I would gallantly reply. "You will be beautiful for ever." 

That's the sort of talk that would get me crushed to her bosom, inhaling her fragrance. Not as stupid as I looked!

One night, Dougie and I came back late from a movie (the club of the Globe and Phoenix gold mine doubled as a cinema and movies were shown twice a week) with images of an almost-naked Brigitte Bardot still etched on our fevered brains. 

Marge, it seemed, had had difficulty sleeping and was wandering around the kitchen in a see-through, low-cut nightie that left nothing to the imagination. Pushing sturdily against the gossamer fabric were two big brown nipples. At one point she leaned over the table in front of me, both breasts fully exposed. Bliss!

Then she mischievously asked me to fetch another cup and I had no option but to stand up and hobble to the cupboard, trying vainly to disguise the way my cock was almost bursting through my trouser buttons. Dougie laughed himself silly, telling me to keep his mother out of my dirty thoughts.

As I sat down again, red with embarrassment, she said with a grin: "Don't you go starching those sheets tonight. I'm going to check in the morning". With a wink she went off to bed.

Sometimes she would wrestle with Dougie and me, which was a wonderful opportunity to "accidently" have a feel of those wonderful orbs. She would roll around and scream and hug us, her dress ending up around her waist, underwear in a tangle. It was great fun and she never got all tweezer-lipped if my hand strayed to those nylon panties and squeezed her bottom or if I stroked the soft flesh above the stocking top. As long as it was part of the game, it seemed I could cop all the feels I liked. 

But that was it. Although it was fun, I wanted something more and I realised I wasn't going to get it from Marge. However, as I was to discover, someone other than her husband, old Bill, was.

Once a month, without fail, Dougie, siblings and mother and father, went off by train to Gwelo, the much bigger town down the line, to do the big shopping. It was more than shopping, it was sort of a ritual and they all looked forward to it. They shopped, had lunch, went to a real movie house, and returned to Hicksville on the late train.

So when I arrived at their house one morning during the school holidays to fetch the swimming costume I had left there, I knew nobody was home. I rummaged for the key on the window ledge and let myself in via the door directly to Dougie's room. I found what I was looking for and was about to leave when I heard strange noises. Surely not burglars in Que Que, that was unheard of!

The sounds were coming from the main bedroom, whose door was ajar. Tiptoeing on holiday bare feet, I tried to still my hammering heart as I moved silently up the passage and looked through the gap. Marge, clad in stockings and suspenders, was leaning over the bed, half slip around her waist, panties in a puddle at her ankles and her breasts hanging from her bra.

Standing behind her, thrusting as though his very life depended on it, one hand cupping a breast, was a grunting Ken Grey, the young stoker who lived in single quarters but paid to eat dinner with the family. The dirty sod, he had stolen one of my fantasies! 

But this was so exciting for me. I had never seen people making love before and they were obviously getting a lot of enjoyment out of it, judging by the moans and panting emanating from the pair of them. Marge, in a hoarse whisper, was urging him on: "Ken, faster, faster, fuck, fuck." And Ken obliged, pumping away like the 23-year-old stud that he was.

"I'm coming, coming, yes, yes!" Marge cried as he rode her to what I presumed was a climax (I wasn't that naïve) but sounded like she was being murdered. As she collapsed on the bed Ken quickly kneeled beside her and stuck his big cock right into her mouth! 

"I'm going to come," he panted. "Suck me!" and she did, slurping and gagging as he aimed for the back of her throat. He shuddered as she wrestled with the python, swallowing and muttering, with some of the semen escaping from her lips."Oh Ken, I love to eat your lovely cock," she trilled as she licked up all the juices. 

Of course, I was not unmoved by the happening. Rubbing myself in my excitement I proceeded to do some ejaculating of my own, into my underpants. But it was time to go before these two started to again become aware of their surroundings. I crawled back down the passage and out of Dougie's room, locking the door silently behind me and then running like hell.

When I saw Dougie the next day I found out in an oblique way that his mum hadn't gone with them to Gwelo, saying she was all stuffed up and miserable with a cold. Well, she was certainly stuffed up by something!

I've subsequently read stories of young guys blackmailing older women into sex but that never occurred to me. I never told anyone -- particularly Dougie - about it. I was so disappointed in the woman I loved for being such a slut but I masturbated times uncountable over those images in my mind of what happened that day.

So my love for Marge remained unconsummated, but I never stopped desiring her and was bereft when she ran off to Salisbury with Ken a year later, leaving the family devastated and the town with plenty to gossip about. 

My sights by then had shifted closer to home, which meant through the hole in the rubber hedge to the drycleaners my mum managed. My dad was off working on an oil pipeline in Iran and mum and I lived in one of the flats above the shop. Very handy.

Other than the staff who ran the big machine and pressed the clothes, my mum had a woman helping her at the front of the shop. Lorna was dark-skinned, with beautiful eyes. She had married young and although she was 26 (from my perspective that was quite old), she had a daughter of four, looked after by her mother while she was at work.

Lorna was fabulous, with a great sense of humour, and she always treated me as an equal. Once I got to know her I would pop into the shopto have a cigarette and a chat with her. In those more sedate days in Que Que, businesses closed between 1 and 2pm and my mum would go up to the flat for a rest. Lorna lived too far away, so she put her feet up in the shop, which meant we had it to ourselves as the rest of the staff always went out at lunchtime.

Lorna's husband was quite a bit older than her and she confided that he knocked her about a bit when he had had a few brews, which was quite often. As we got to know each other better I realised she felt trapped in a marriage with a man she had never really loved and, to crown it all, she was more than six months pregnant.

I had wondered why this essentially slim woman had a quite pronounced tummy, having only a basic idea of what pregnancy was all about (these were the days before the sexual revolution) I was fascinated by the whole idea, asking her more and more probing questions until one day she said she would show me her tummy if I promised never to tell anyone. Of course, I swore I would never talk.

Lorna always wore a white overall that buttoned down the front and as my heart pounded in anticipation, she unbuttoned it to the waist, revealing a sensible white bra that was filled to capacity, it seemed, a lovely rounded tummy and what I thought was the top of white nylon panties but turned out to be a halfslip.

"You can feel my tummy if you want to," she said, smiling shyly. "You might feel the baby kicking, which is awesome. I can't believe how big I'm getting. My breasts are usually much smaller than this as well," she said, cupping her boobs over her bra.

She took my hand and gently ran it over her bulging tummy. Dredging up the courage, I said: "Can I feel your breasts as well?

I thought she was going to say no. She started to shake her head, then seemed to change her mind. "Yes, but remember your promise."

I stroked upwards from her tummy, cupping a breast over her bra. "I have never done this before," I said, voice cracking.

"I know, don't be afraid", she smiled at me and took my hand and put it inside her bra. 

It was the most wonderful experience of my short life. Her breast was soft and round and smooth and the nipple rose to meet my fingers.

"You've made them hard," she breathed.

"That's not all that's hard," I breathed back.

"Poor Gordon," she giggled, unzipping my shorts and sliding my cock out of my underpants.

Her touch was electrifying and she had barely squeezed it when, to my horror, I ejaculated. "God, no, how could I have done that!" I cried out, mortified.

"Don't worry," she said soothingly, "It's natural for a young man. I feel flattered I had such an effect on you. What you must do is masturbate tomorrow morning so that when you come to see me at lunchtime you will be more in control," she said matter-of-factly.

So I hadn't blown it completely, she still wanted to see me tomorrow! 

She had taken out a handkerchief and cleaned up the mess as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Then she pulled me to her and kissed me, pushing the tip of her tongue gently into my mouth, another first. 

I sailed out of the shop, feeling on top of the world. Watch out ladies, I am on my way! I said to myself. And, yes, this did mark the beginning of a lifetime of close encounters with a reasonably impressive number of accommodating ladies.

To be continued if there is any interest.



In Praise of Older Women



"Damn I'd sure like to fuck Judy Carne." I thought to myself as I took a sip from my can of Colt 45 Malt Liquor. It was eight o'clock on Monday night and I was passing the time watching Laugh-in and drinking beer. My Mom was cooking dinner in the kitchen and Dad was taking a long hot shower to wash off the grime from work.

"Mickey." Mom yelled. "Could you come in here and give me a hand?"

"Sure Mom." I yelled back. "I'll be right there."

I got up off the couch and kind of staggered a bit before heading off unsteadily toward the kitchen. "I must have been drinking that beer too fast." I thought to myself, "Beer hell Mick, you've drunk at least three so far, your half in the bag my boy-o." And I chuckled under my breath.

In the kitchen I encountered a disaster area. My mother was not much of a cook but she was a master at making a mess. There were bowls here and a pan or two there, all of them dirty. It is beyond me how a person could make such a mess while making a meal of meatloaf for three, but my dear Mother managed the feat every time.

"Could you wash a few things up for me sweetie?" She asked as she put the stirred something on the stove that may have been gravy.

"Sure Mom." I replied as I walked past her to the sink.

I started the water running in the sink, gathered up the dishes and pans, and stacked them on the counter. Then I turned to the fridge, opened it and pulled out a can of malt liquor.

"Have you finished your homework?" My mother asked.

Without turning around I answered, "Yes Mother. I finished up the last of the calculus just before Laugh-in came on. Why?"

"Just making sure sweetie." She replied, "I have to make sure that my big man has his work all finished before he has his fun." She paused for a second and then said, "Would you get me a beer out too baby? All this cooking in this hot kitchen has made your old mother thirsty."

I pulled another can of malt liquor from the opened case in the fridge, popped the top on both cans and turned to hand a can to her. She took the can in a hand covered with flour, put it to her lips and took a long appreciative pull on the beverage.

"Thanks," she said, "I needed that." Before she reached out with the other hand, tussled my hair and blew me a kiss.

"Damn it Mom." I sputtered in frustration of having my hair covered in flour.

"Now watch your language Mickey. You might be nineteen but I am still your mother. Show me some respect." She said with a motherly tone of admonition.

"Yes Mom. Anything you want Mom." I replied contritely.

"In that case would you hold the can while I take a drink? I need to stir the gravy so it doesn't scorch." She asked as she continued to cook.

I put the can to her lips and tilted it up while she took a sip. After she had finished I put the can back on the counter and Mom said theatrically, "Thank you my dearest son. You know just how to keep your mommy happy." 

"My pleasure," I replied as I lifted my can to my lips for a long drink of my own.

Mom put her beer on the shelf above the stove and went back to stirring the stuff in the pan. I put my beer down on the counter and began to wash the dishes.

As I washed the dishes I occasionally I would glance over appraisingly at my mother. She was a fine figure of a woman who at thirty-eight was anything but old. Sure she was older, but to my eye, she was just reaching her prime. You see I liked older women; I adored older women, after all older women really knew how to take care of their men. They didn't try to jerk you around like some of the young stuff did. What was it that Ben Franklin said, "They don't swell, they don't tell, and they're grateful as hell."

Yeah I loved older gals. In fact right now I was involved with three gals older than myself, hell one was a couple of years older than Mom. All three of the women were married, and all three were hot as hell.

When I thought of my mother, I thought of her just as any adoring son should. But when I looked at her, I looked at her as I would look at any other woman. And from that perspective I found her to be a very pleasing woman to look at. 

My Mom was not voluptuous by any stretch of the imagination; in fact slim would probably have described her best. She was five foot six and one hundred ten pounds with a nice firm ass and what looked like a nice handful of breast. Her auburn hair reached her shoulder and was kept in place by prodigious use of hair spray. She smoked way too much and drank to excess at times. But all in all I thought that she was beautiful, after all she was my mother.

She definitely was hot from cooking over the stove. I could see sweat spots on her blouse and I noticed that she had unbuttoned a couple of the buttons. With the buttons undone I could catch just the faint hint of cleavage when she turned her body toward me. 

I could tell that the sweat had run down her chest because there was a faint trace of flour on her breasts where she had rubbed at the beads of sweat. The sweat must have been running down her forehead too because she ran her hand across her face and left a trail of flour on her skin. I began to chuckle at the sight of my dear Mom, sweaty and covered in flour.

"What the hell is funny?" She asked.

"Oh nothing, " I lied as I continued to laugh softly while I washed the last of the pans.

"Are you laughing at your poor old mother?" She asked.

"Yeah, " I replied. "You look funny covered in flour." And I chuckled again.

"Why you evil child you." She said, " How dare you laugh at your mother." 

She turned and started walking toward me, her flour covered hands upraised. "I'll teach you to laugh at your Mom." She said as she moved toward me. As she advanced she reached into the open flour canister and grabbed a handful of fresh flour. With a devilish and somewhat bleary-eyed smile on her lips she reached out to rub my face with flour clenched in her hands.

I tried to fend her off but I raised my sudsy hands too late and only managed to trail my hands across her upper torso and dislodge the few remaining buttons on her blouse. Her blouse fell open exposing her bra-covered breasts. 

I stood transfixed by the sight of my mothers flour streaked tits as she ran her flour caked hands over my face and hair. As she moved, the flesh of her breasts jiggled deliciously. They seemed to move in slow motion, like when they film humming birds hovering over a flower. She rubbed quite vigorously at my face and hair with the flour in her hands, seeming to enjoy tremendously covering me with a thick coating of flour. 

As she rubbed the flour onto me the movement continued to translate into jiggles and joggles in the flesh of her boobs. I tried again to push her away but this time she deflected my hand and it landed on the warm skin of her tit, I pulled it away as quickly as I could but I was still left with the indelible memory of the softness of my mothers breast. 

She then moved to my side to finish her handiwork and as she did her chest rubbed against my arm causing a shock to run through my body and my cock to start to get rigid. She seemed to be completely unaware of the show she was putting on for me and I remember thinking, "Damn, those things are a lot bigger than I remembered."

I turned away from her to hide the bulge in my pants and this made her attack me with renewed energy. "Chicken." She giggled, "Can't deal with your old Mom huh?" And she reached around to smear my face with flour. When she did that she pulled her body close to against my back and her breasts rubbed against me causing my semi hard erection to blossom into a full-blown woody.

When I had been suitably covered with flour she stepped back to admire her handiwork. She put her hands on her hips, smiled at me and said, "That'll teach you to laugh at me smarty." 

I turned part way around to look at her. The exertion of her covering me with flour had winded Mom and her chest was rising and falling rapidly. With her blouse hanging fully open I had a clear view of her creamy cleavage. The sight made my already hard dick tingle with passion. If she hadn't been my mother I probably would have pulled her to me and planted a long, hot, passionate kiss on her soft lips.

With my eyes glued to her exposed cleavage I said, "Yeah, it sure will Mom."

Mom must have felt a breeze or maybe she sensed my eyes boring into her breasts because she looked down and saw that she was exposed to the waist. She pulled the blouse together and said, "Well. It looks like I'm falling apart." 

She laughed as she turned away to button her blouse and then she said, "That sure was fun. Were going to have to do that more often."

I replied, "Yeah it was fun mom. We can do it anytime you want to." I wasn't lying either, I had really enjoyed the contact and my stiff dick showed it too.

I drained the sink and picking up a clean washrag began to wash the flour from my face and neck. I got most of the stuff off my skin and I put my head under the faucet and rinsed most of the white powder out of my hair. 

The effect of the washing removed the visible traces of the flour but I felt sticky and only a nice warm shower was going to take care of that. That would have to wait till dad finished in the bathroom. 

I dried off my hair with a dishtowel, picked up my beer, leaned back against the counter, and took a drink. My mouth seemed to be patched and I drained the can of beer so I got another one from the fridge. This time I got one out for Mom and sat it next to the one on the sink.

"Why aren't you the sweet son?" She said as she continued to cook.

I glanced over at Mom; she was bent over peering into the oven. Her butt was angled toward me and she was checking to see if the meatloaf was done. As she peered into the oven she was humming and moving her ass in rhythm with a song that I didn't recognize. 

I stood there rather unsteadily watching her cook and took another swig from the malt liquor. I was becoming a little drunk by this time and my hormones were running a little high too. My cock was still a moderately hard from our little tussle earlier. The movements of her body had its inevitable effect on me, which was one of arousal. 

I was always a little horny, even at my best behavior. Seeing as how I was a little bit buzzed right now, the swaying of her ass was beginning to get to me. 

Not being at all shy around the women, if she hadn't been my mom, I probably would have done something obscene to her like rubbing my cock against the crack of her ass. But since she was my mother I simply turned away and muttered softly under my breath, "Damn fine stuff, somebody needs to have at that." 

As if on cue Dad walked into the room. He was wearing just a t-shirt and his boxers and he was drinking from a glass filled with a brown liquid that I assumed was bourbon. I was about to say something inane like, "Hello daddy-o." When he put his finger to his lips and walked up behind Mom, put his hands on her hips, and started rubbing his crotch against her ass. She wiggled her ass against him and said, "Why Mickey, you're sure affectionate tonight."

Dad gave me a leering grin as he continued to grind his dick against my Mothers ass. He winked at me and ran his hands up her torso until he reached her breasts. He took her tits in his callused hands and began to knead them. Mom said, "Mmmm, that feels good baby. You sure know how to make your mommy feel good."

Mom reached up on the counter and grabbed her can of beer and brought it to her lips for a drink while she poked the meatloaf with a fork. She must have drained half the can before she put it back on the counter and let out a big sigh.

Dad had this big shit-eating grin on his face while he massaged Mom's tits and ass. I could tell that this was going to lead to bigger and better things for this pair and was about to leave the room before they started to fuck on the counter top. 

I drained my beer, dropped it in the trash and started to leave when Dad motioned me with a jerk of his head to come over. I looked at him quizzically and he motioned again so I moved over to the stove. 

Dad took his hand off of Mom's tit and grabbed mine. I was about to object when he placed my hand on my mother's breast and started to move aside. As he moved away, my Mom said, "Don't stop now Mickey, you're making your mommy feel really good."

Dad put his hand against my waist and pulled me into his place against my mother's ass. My left hand seemed to go naturally to her other breast and I started to massage her tits like dad had been doing. I bent my legs slightly to bring my dick in line with the crack of her ass and pushed against her butt.

I thought that she might pull away from the contact. My drunken mind still registered her as my mother and I figured that she would end the game when she realized that it was I against her ass and not Dad. But instead I felt a slight backward pressure against my still hard cock as I started to lightly grind my crotch against her like dad had been doing.

"Mmmm, feels like your all ready for your momma." She purred, " But we have to be careful in case your Daddy walks in. We don't want him to get wise to us do we?" 

She continued to grind her ass against my engorged member as she straightened from peering into the oven. "Unnnngh." She moaned theatrically as she reached for the can of beer. 

She picked up the can of malt liquor from the counter and drained it. All the while she kept her firm buttocks pressed against my quickly hardening crank and continued to grind away. 

When she finished the beer she placed the can on the counter and sighed, "Ummmmm, that feels real nice baby. Show your hot momma how you really feel about her."

She moved her hands and put them over mine, pressing them more tightly against her soft flesh. The feel of my hands squeezing her soft flesh brought my cock to a state of painful hardness and she thrust her buttocks even harder against it.

"God that feels good. You really like your momma don't you?" She moaned effusively and rotated my hands more insistently over her boobs for a moment or two before pulling my hands loose from the soft flesh of her breasts. Moaning softly as she did so she slowly guided my hands across her flat stomach and down to her thin waist. 

"Ummmmm." She moaned as she pushed her body back against mine and wrapped my arms tightly around her drawing our bodies closer together. Mom leaned back against me, the scent of her hair filled my nostrils, and she said hoarsely, "Momma's getting real hot Mickey, why don't you give your old Mother a kiss on the neck to cool her off."

She angled her neck to the side and I put my lips to her feverish skin. She thrust her ass back against me as I kissed her shoulder lightly once and then again before I got brave enough to really get into it. I kissed the smooth, hot skin of her sweet shoulder, running my tongue up her hot flesh to the base of her neck. 

She moaned as she ran her hands slowly across my forearms, gently stroking the hair on my arms, making the skin tingle and goose flesh rise. Moving her hands from my arms she leaned against me forcefully, almost forcing her fevered flesh against my wanton lips. Then she reached behind her and slowly ran her fingers over my denim-covered thighs before resting her fingers on the muscular cheeks of my ass. 

"Unnnngh." I heard her groan as she dug her fingers into my quivering muscles and pulled me ever more tightly against her thrusting buttocks. I let out a low moan of my own as she continued grinding her tight ass insistently against my rock hard dick.

The muscles of her stomach quivered beneath my fingers and I felt her ass buck against me. She exhaled lustily and made a sound almost like a cat purring.

"Mmmmngh." She moaned softly. 

I knew that she had cum and for an instant I felt a stroke of shame before the lust of the situation overtook me again and I pushed my lips tighter against the burning flesh of her aquiline neck and sucked at her soft skin with violent abandon.

"God baby that feels good." She whispered breathlessly. "Its making me so dizzy I think that I'm going to faint. Just make sure that your father doesn't catch us."

I looked over at Dad. He was leaning against the doorframe sipping his booze. There was a big smile on his face and his cock was beginning to peek out of the slit in his boxers. He was enjoying this immensely and as I watched, his free hand began to stroke his hard cock through the fabric of his underwear. 

His eyes were half closed with lust as he watched his wife rub her firm ass against the hard cock of his son. As I continued to watch him he took another sip from his drink, redoubled his efforts on his now fully exposed member and gave me a leering grin. I doubted that there was any way that he was going to be getting mad about this any time soon.

I once more put my mouth against the fiery flesh of my mother's neck and playfully bit her tender flesh. I felt her lightly shiver as I bit my way up her sweet neck to just below her jaw line and then down again.

Pulling her tight against me with my left arm, I ran my right hand over her flat stomach, under her blouse and took her firm, small breast in my hand. The rough texture of her bra felt erotic against my fingers as I gently squeezed her succulent fruit. I could barely feel her erect nipple through the fabric of her brassiere. I wanted so to feel the bare flesh of her breast in my hand, but when I tried to move my hand beneath her underwear, I heard a guttural plea of, "Uh, uh, please, no, baby." So I ceased to try and simply embraced the firm flesh of her boob through her bra. 

I gently continued to massage first one breast and then the other. The texture of the fabric of her bra against my palm was exciting. My thumb gently stroked the skin exposed above the fetters of the brassier. Her skin was soft and smooth against the pad of my thumb as I massaged her soft skin. I felt the heat of her skin against mine and the flames of my passion were fanned and I squeezed them harder. 

Unnnngh." She moaned. "That's the way to treat your mommy. Squeeze me hard baby." 

I trailed my tongue gently and slowly back up her neck and I could feel the goose flesh forming in its wake. The gyrations of her hips became more insistent and I could swear that I felt her quiver and push back against me even harder. She moaned lightly and tilted her head back allowing me access to the line of her jaw and front of her neck. I ran my tongue over her jaw and down her neck then back up to her ear.

I kissed her lightly on the ear and ran my tongue first up and then down the backside of her ear before pushing it into her ear. "Oooh, that tickles." She gushed as she turned her head to allow me greater access to her hot flesh. I heard her softly moan, she exhaled slowly and luxuriantly and her body went slack for a second against me. If it had been anyone but my mother I would have suspected that she had just cum again.

I ran a line of kisses down her jaw and she turned her head at the same time. Our lips met, a soft melding of flesh in what was more than a maternal kiss but not a kiss of raging passion. 

I tasted on her lips the tang of vodka along with the bitterness of the beer. Our lips parted and then joined again, this time I could have sworn that her tongue grazed my lips before retreating back into her mouth.

"Thank you Mickey, this is real nice." She whispered softly.

Mom pulled her hands from my ass and I unwrapped my arms from around her waist, I figured that the game was over and started to step away. But Mom twisted in my arms, turning completely around, and put her arms around my neck. 

She looked into my eyes for an instant and I could see a look of amused defiance in them. She smashed her lips to mine and gave me a warm, wet, but tongue less kiss. The kiss was definitely not chaste but it was not one of great passion. However the groans and moans she was making made it sound a lot more sexual than it really was.




In Praise of Older Women



I ran my hands almost automatically down her body and gripped the cheeks of her ass pulling her tighter against me. My rock hard cock pressed against her crotch and she rubbed violently against me. She moved her lips from mine and kissed first my cheek, then my neck, and finally my ear. I could feel her warm breath on my ear as she whispered, "This should teach the bastard to fuck with me. Make this look good baby." She whispered breathlessly as she began to avidly tongue my ear.

I didn't have to be told who 'the bastard' was in her request. It had to be none other than my father, the pervert whacking off in the doorway. Without thinking twice I pulled her body even tighter against mine and began to grind away. After all mother is always right isn't she?

I gripped her tight ass in my steely hands, pulled her even tighter against me and began to thrust my rock hard shaft insistently against her hot pussy. She gave as well as she got and ground her crotch against my raging dick with wanton abandon.

She moaned into my ear and I realized that she was breathing much too hard for this to be just a show. Her breath was hot against my skin as her long tongue scorched my flesh. "Unnnngh." She moaned as she rammed her tongue deep into my ear. She wrapped her arms tighter around my neck, using me for support as I felt her legs quiver and go limp against me for an instant. 

She pulled her tongue from my ear and I heard her desperately pant as she began to nibble on my earlobe before moving down to chew and suck passionately on the skin of my neck.

Suddenly she pulled her mouth from my neck and leaned her head back to gaze into my eyes. The few inches separating us did little to diminish the heat of her breath against my shin. Her face was flushed in a way that I had never seen before and the gleam of her green eyes was one of complete and utter lust.

She looked into my blue eyes inquiringly; trying to read my face I guess which couldn't have been too hard at all. I was completely caught up in the lust of the moment and the thing that I wanted to do most of all right then was to strip off her clothes and drive my rock hard shaft deep into her hot wet cunt.

Seeing the animal lust in my eyes and feeling the heat of my breath against her fevered flesh, Mom leisurely moved her face slowly toward mine.

With my eyes still locked onto hers I leaned my head toward her. We stopped just short of our lips touching for what seemed like minutes but was probably just an instant. I felt her searing breath on my lips as we stared into each other's eyes mere inches apart. Both of us were breathing heavily, virtually gasping for breath, sounding more like we had been running hard rather than just standing still caressing each other. 

Almost of their own volition our lips moved together. As our lips touched, a thousand little explosions went off simultaneously in my head. My skin felt on fire and hundreds of small electrical shocks moved across my body.

This time the kiss was neither maternal nor chaste. It was a kiss of fiery and unbridled passion between two equally excited adults. 

Our lips melted into a single quivering mass. I moved my tongue against her lips, her lips parted and I thrust my tongue deep into her mouth. Our tongues quested against each other like two bodies entwined in passion, her tongue stroke against mine and then retreated as she began to suck avidly on my tongue.

She pulled her arms from around my neck, ran them down my shoulders. She passionately kneaded my muscles as she pulled me closer against her. Her breasts practically poked holes in my chest as she rubbed her body against mine.

Her hands moved down my arms, sliding to the hard muscles of my waste before finally coming to rest on the firm muscles of my ass. She tightly grasped my buttocks in her fervent grasp and dug her short nails into the fabric of my jeans. She pulled me as tight against her as was humanly possible and ground her pussy against my rigid member.

I could feel the wet warmth of her cunt even through the many layers of clothing that we wore. The heat of her passion drove me even higher, and I knew that I wouldn't last much longer in this Passion play.

My fingers dug deep into the resilient flesh of her tight ass and I pulled her sweltering twat even tighter against my rock hard cock. The painful grip of my hands on her buttocks seemed to inflame her passion even more and she pushed her tongue past mine and thrust it deeply into my eager mouth. 

"Mmmmmph, Mmmm." I heard her gasp into my mouth as her body quivered against mine again.

Simultaneously, I felt my nuts tighten and then the seed of my loins erupted violently into my jockeys. My knees went weak as I shot my load into my pants and my muscles quivered uncontrollably.

Our mouths continued to move against each other as our bodies quivered in uncontrolled passion. It seemed that our passionate embrace was the only thing that kept us from collapsing like rags on the kitchen floor. 

Slowly our ardor cooled and our brains began to clear. Our lips moved ever more slowly and tenderly over each other. Finally turning into tender and affectionately pecks before she pulled her mouth from mine and whispered, "I'm sorry baby." 

"Sorry for what?" I asked just as softly.

"For using you to get back at your dad for being such a jerk. I wanted to teach him a lesson for messing with me. I think that's enough, if that doesn't do it nothing will." She kissed me lightly again and started to pull away.

I pulled her closer and whispered in her ear, "Hell Mom, I really enjoyed that. Anytime you want to mess with him, just let me know."

She looked up into my eyes and started to say something. But instead she just kissed me maternally on the lips and pushed away.

My legs felt like they were going to buckle under my own weight as I looked over at Dad to gauge his response. He still had that shit-eating leer on his face as he languidly stroked his engorged member. I thought to myself, "Boy he really enjoyed that." But then again so did I.

Mom looked at him and shook her head. "It looks like dinner will be a little late tonight Mickey." She chuckled as she reached out and unselfconsciously took Dad's rock hard cock in her grasp.

I responded, "That's alright, I'm not all that hungry anyway."

She replied simply, "Ok." Before heading off to the bedroom with Dad in tow.

I stood there for a minute mildly stupefied, before I opened my pants and grabbing a dishtowel to clean myself off. Zipping myself back up I reached for the stove and turned off the burners and the oven. "I guess I should change clothes." I muttered to myself as I walked toward my room and a clean change of clothing.

I stripped as I walked down the hall to the bathroom tossing my clothes into the clothes hamper as I passed. When I stood there completely nude just outside my parents door I realized that despite my violent orgasm of only a few moments ago I still had a raging hard on.

The sounds coming from my parent's bedroom did little to dispel my passion either. I could hear them distinctly making the soft sounds of foreplay, and that caused me to pause momentarily outside their closed door and listen.

I stepped into the bathroom and washed the goop from my legs and genitals. Then still naked I walked to my room and put on a fresh set of clothes. 

It was just a minute or two before the sound of squealing bedsprings and moans of passion drove me from the house and into the yard. My hard-on was still raging and my mind was reeling with hormonal passion as I walked into the cool night.

I did a couple of laps of the back yard lost in lust filled confusion before I began to look around. The light was on in the kitchen of the house next door and that peeked my interest.

I walked through the gate in the fence separating the two houses and quietly crept close to the window and peered into the well-lighted room. Carol, the next-door neighbor, was sitting at the table with her face toward the window that I was at. She was dressed in a terry cloth robe with her feet in a pan of water. "Her feet must be sore again." I thought to myself. 

As I watched she let the robe fall open exposing her naked and very pregnant body. She ran her hands over her swollen stomach and up to her huge breasts. A smile crossed her lips as she massaged her swollen flesh.

Carol reached over onto the table and picked up a bottle of lotion and poured a liberal amount into the palm of her hand. She rubbed her hands together and began to slather the lotion over her skin.

First she massaged the liquid into the skin of her stomach, running her fingers luxuriously over her tight skin before moving her attention to her pendulous breasts. She liberally coated the huge bulk of her tits with the lotion, making sure to massage the already lactating nipples to full erection.

Her fingers glided across her soft skin, across her distended tummy eventually disappearing between her quivering thighs. I could see her eyes close and a smile cross her lips as she pushed her fingers into her hot, wet pussy.

She thrust the fingers of one hand deep within her quaking twat and began to stroke in and out. Her other hand moved to the top of her slit and began to massage the swollen head of her clit in rhythm with the stroking of her fingers into her vagina. The intensity of her stroking increased quickly and it was only a few seconds until she tilted her head back and her mouth formed the round form of a deep sigh. I watched as her thighs quivered and her body shook in the grasp of an all-consuming orgasm.

She sat there for a few seconds with her eyes closed, savoring the moment. Then she pulled her robe together and rose with difficulty from the chair. Carol walked the few steps to the door, opened it and called out, "Well, did you enjoy the show ass hole?"

"Sure did." I responded.

"Well, don't stand around out there, get your ass in here and give me a kiss!" She said.

Not being one to dawdle, I headed for the door and into Carol's waiting embrace. I had to lean over her protruding belly to kiss her, but when our lips met I knew that the heat of her performance had been no illusion. 

Our lips crushed together and immediately her tongue pushed past my parted lips and deep into my mouth. My tongue touched hers and we began a heated bout of tongue wrestling that lasted at least five minutes. When our lips parted we were both breathing raggedly and the bulge in my pants was harder than ever.

"Mmmm," she said, "you've been drinking beer. I sure as hell wish that I could have a beer right about now, but, that damn doctor said that it was bad for me." She paused for a second before continuing, "He said I had been putting on too much fucking weight. I'm pregnant for god's sake. Pregnant women are supposed to put on weight!" She raised her face up towards mine and said, "Now kiss me again ass hole, and tell me I'm beautiful!"

I chuckled, "You're beautiful Carol." And I crushed my lips to hers once again.

I loved older women. I was 19 at the time and all but two of my sexual partners had been older than myself. 

My next triumph was a woman that came into the gas station late at night to apply for a gas card. She had filled out the application in the office and then at closing time had asked me to walk her home because, "The streets just aren't safe and I need a strong young man to keep me safe on my walk home." She invited me in for a soda and much more.

The next couple of liaisons had been with girls my own age. The sex was satisfying but not memorable.

Now, along with two other gals at work, I was involved with Carol, the lady next door to us in Kansas City. She was a blonde, voluptuous, vixen that was also very pregnant and very horny. Me, I didn't complain about that because I was just plain horny all the time. 

Carol's husband worked the night shift leaving her alone and lonely almost every night. Even when he wasn't working he was seldom home. He found an excuse to be away from her as much as he could, leaving her with a wet and vacant hole that I attempted to fill at every opportunity. 

I'd been screwing Carol on a regular basis since we moved in here, but she was getting pretty close to term and the frequency of sex had dropped off dramatically leaving me horny and easily aroused most of the time.

Tonight looked different though. If the show she had put on was any indication she was horny and willing and I had a raging hard-on that needed to be sheathed in a warm, willing pussy.

"That was some show." I said as our lips parted from our passionate kiss of greeting.

"Yeah, I figured that you would enjoy it." She responded with a giggle.

"Oh you knew I was out there?" I asked.

"No I just like to put on sex shows for the neighborhood kids." She quipped. "Of course I knew you were there. I heard the door close and saw you walking in the yard. I figured it was just a matter of time before you made it over here." She paused for a second before continuing, "Now give me another kiss ass hole."

Carol had an interesting idea of what an endearment was. Her pet names for me ranged from ass hole to fucker, but it really was of no concern what she called me as long as she put out for me when I needed and wanted it.

I smashed my lips to hers, my tongue pushed into her mouth and she began to almost violently suck on it. I felt her hand travel down my body and invade my crotch. She stroked up and down my steel hard shaft just as my hand moved over her body to invade her wet, hot cunt.

She pulled her lips from mine and said, "Let's forget all this fore play shit. I just want you to fuck me. I need your cock inside of me and I want it now."

With that said she turned away from me, shrugged her robe off and let it fall to the floor. She walked to one of the chairs at the kitchen table, put her hands on its back, bent over, spread her legs and said plaintively, "Come on lover, I need that big dick of yours buried inside me. I'm so damn horny that I think if I have to wait another minute I am going to go crazy!"

I unbuttoned my jeans, unzipped the fly pulled my dick out and walked up behind her. Placing the head of my crank against the opening of her hot cunt I ran it over the flesh of her labia a bit just to tease her.

"Oh come on fucker. I need it now, don't play with me please." She said plaintively.

Without a word I slid the head inside of her and held it there while I reached around to fondle her sensitive breasts. She wiggled her ass in an attempt to get me to thrust into her. I heard her moan in frustration, "Please fuck me. Please Mickey, fuck me now."

I responded with, "Sure baby, I'll fuck you. If you're a good little girl I'll fuck you good. If you're a bad little girl, I'll fuck you even better."

She whined a reply, "Lover, I'll do anything you want. Just fuck me now and fuck me good! Please."

"I love it when you beg bitch. Are you going to be my bitch slut tonight?" I asked as I reached out with one hand to slap her soundly on her big soft ass.

"Oh yeah anything you want Mickey." She responded, "Just fuck me, I'm so horny it hurts."

Slowly I slid my eight inches of rock hard meat into her huge wet pussy. Carol let out a long sigh as I pushed past her swollen lips and into her hungry twat. I reached the bottom of her cunt and slowly pulled out until just the head was still immersed in her cavity. I held there for an instant before I thrust violently into her and commenced the violent assault on her steaming, hot hole.

Carol grunted and groaned as I thrust deep into her again and again. I felt her pussy contract around my cock as she came once and then again in quick succession. I knew that my own orgasm was not too far off as I felt her pussy quiver one more time in the throes of another orgasm.

"Damn, she is horny tonight." I thought to myself. And I redoubled my efforts, thrusting into her harder with each stroke. Her huge breasts swung back and forth with each stroke, her ass was red with the slap of my thighs against her flesh. I felt her quiver once more and then I felt my balls begin to tighten and my white-hot spunk erupted into her big sweltering pussy.

I jerked spasmodically as my seed shot into her hot hole. I knew that she came at the same time from the muted grunts escaping her lips. I thrust into her again and again but with decreasing ferocity as my passion was spent. Eventually my dick became so soft that it just plopped out of her massive cunt and I pulled away to let her sit down.

"Whew!" She exclaimed between ragged breaths. "I needed that" 

"Me too." I said breathlessly.

I stood there for a minute gathering my strength. She sat there in front of me, her massive chest heaving, gasping for air. 

I looked down between her legs and saw my sperm running down her legs and onto the seat of the chair. 

I looked at my flaccid dick, coated now with the mixture of our juices. Sheen of white coated the skin and clumps of semen were lodged in my thick pubic hair. It was a sight that was vaguely erotic to me just as the scent that persisted in a room following violent sex was arousing.

I moved toward Carol, straddling her heaving form until my cock was against her lovely lips. "It's time for you to clean me up babe." I said quietly.

"Yeah, you're quite a mess aren't you?" She responded and she flicked out her tongue to lick at the residue of our sex. Carol ran her tongue up and down the length of my shaft, cleaning up the residue of our mixed juices. She really enjoyed the taste and claimed that it helped to relax her. 

Before she had become so large we had gone 69 a quite a few times after intercourse. She would clean me up and bring me off in her mouth while I licked her box clean of our accumulated juices. It was strange the first time but I'd actually begun to enjoy it after the first time or two. The taste was strange, but no worse that eating out a woman on her period.

With her being so large, a bout of 69 was out of the question now. And she said she was not fond of cunnilingus at this stage of her pregnancy so tonight I would get all the pleasure. Oh poor me!

I watched fascinated as she enthusiastically cleaned my skin and pubic hair of all of our juices. As she cleaned me off she brought my dick back to life and she watched it swell as she held in her hand and licked it. Running her tongue slowly from one end of the shaft to the other.

My rock hard shaft began to quiver under the avid ministrations of Carol's tongue. She put her hot lips around it and slid her mouth down on it until she had completely sheathed it inside her mouth. 

She held her mouth still for a moment and pulsed her lips around the base of my shaft while she raised her hand to gently massage my balls with her agile fingers.

Carol slowly slid her lips up the length of my pulsating shaft. She paused a second or two with only the helmet of my little soldier in her hot mouth and played her tongue over the sensitive tissues before slowly impaling her mouth on the length of my mighty spear. Her slow, steady stroking and the titillations of her fingers on my nut sack soon brought me to the point of explosion. 

My quivering legs and the throbbing of my dick in her mouth gave evidence of my imminent eruption. Normally at this point Carol would slow her stroking to extend the session of lovemaking. Tonight, however, she continued to stroke me steadily, lovingly, without pause, until my white-hot sperm spewed forcefully into her mouth and down her throat.

My knees shivered as I shot rope after rope of cum into her ravenous mouth. She gulped down every drop hungrily, making little groans of pleasure, until I was completely dry. Then, as was her wont, she kept my shaft in her mouth until it was a useless rag and all of my seed was spent and swallowed.




In Praise of Older Women



Carol looked up at me, licked her lips, and said, "Good to the last drop." Then she chuckled dryly. "You'd better be off now young man before your mommy gets worried." She started to pull my under wear up and stuff my dick inside.

"Why? Is your hubby coming home early tonight?" I asked as she pulled my jeans up, fastened them and zipped the old zipper.

"I don't think so." She replied. "It's just that I feel all bloated tonight and I want to get you out of here before I rape you again." She chuckled at the thought and then continued, "I need to lay down and if you're around even if I lay down I won't get any rest. If you know what I mean."

With that she stood up with great effort, turned me toward the door and began to push me out of the room.

"Ok, ok, I can take a hint." I said as I began walking toward the door. I grabbed the door handle pulled open the door and stepped out. 

As I crossed the threshold Carol grabbed my shoulder and turned me around to face her. She looked softly into my eyes. Stepped toward me and placed a warm kiss on my lips. "I think that I love you. Did you know that?" She queried.

"I figured as much. And I like you a lot too" I replied.

"Yeah" she said quietly. "Too bad that I'm so married. We're a good match, you and me." 

"Yeah we are." I replied and I stepped toward her, took her in my arms and planted a big wet kiss on her salty lips.

"See you later." I said as I turned and walked into the darkness.

"Yeah, see ya." She responded as she closed the door behind me.

A wave of sadness swept over me as I walked back to my house. There was no real reason for it, but it just felt like more than just one door had closed in my life. But as with anything in life, when one door closes another generally opens.

As I walked back to my house I noticed that Dad's panel truck was gone. This wasn't unusual at all. Dad liked to go down to Sporty's Bar after dinner to have a few brews with his buddies.

I could also see the blue light of the television through the curtains in the living room. Mom must be watching the tube to pass the time. It was the way things went around here and I didn't expect it to change any time soon.

Almost every night Dad left for the bar after supper and Mom settled in front of the tube with her vodka and grapefruit juice. She would drink until she went to sleep, and dad would sneak in around one in the morning drunk as a skunk and stinking of cigarettes, cheap booze, and pussy.

It didn't seem like much of a life or a relationship but it worked for them. In fact it was a lot better than it had been a few years ago. At that time they had been at each other's throats most of the time. Dad would screw around and Mom would find out about it and kick Dad out for a week or two before they would kiss and makeup.

I could clearly remember the bruises Mom would have after one of their fights. For that matter the bruises Dad would get from their tussles were pretty impressive. Mom was no slouch in fight area; she gave as well as she got from Dad. In fact I can remember a number of times that he beat a hasty retreat, his tail between his legs, with Mom in hot pursuit carrying baseball bat in both hands.

Lately they had settled into a truce of sorts. They both worked of course, but when they got home Mom took care of the house, and cooked. Dad ate the food she prepared and took care of her physical needs, then he would light out for the bar and she would settle in front of the TV.

From the perspective of a nineteen year old it seemed pretty senseless and drab. But for them it seemed to work, and that is what counts.

I walked in through the back door and went straight to the bathroom so that I could take a nice hot shower. I had ripped off my clothes before I realized that the floor was wet in the bathroom and wet towels were strewn all over the place, "Looks like Mom and Dad both took showers after sex." I said to myself. I stepped into the hall to retrieved dry towels from the linen closet. "You'd think that they could at least clean up after themselves I muttered."

"You say something baby?" Mom called from the front room.

"Just talking to myself Mom." I replied.

"Ok baby." She responded. 

I walked into the bathroom and ran the water till it got nice and warm and then stepped into the shower stall. The water felt nice on my body as it sluiced the smell of sex and the sweat of the day off my skin.

I finished washing and stepped out of the shower. I dried off, gave myself a quick shave, wrapped the towel around my body and stepped into the hall. Mom passed me in the hallway and I had to turn sideways to let her by. Her hand passed briefly over my bare chest and she put a brief kiss on my lips as we passed. She was just as she was about to disappear into the bathroom and I had my hand on the doorknob to my room when she cxasually asked, "How did it go with Carol?"

The door clicked close behind her and I stood there frozen with my hand on the doorknob to my room. "How long has she known about Carol and me?" I asked myself. I almost turned around and knocked on the bathroom door to tell her that she was mistaken, but that seemed silly and juvenile. After all if she didn't have some proof that I was having a fling with our pregnant neighbor, she wouldn't have said anything.

The real question was why she even mentioned it at all. Mom wasn't one to say something if there wasn't some reason.

I dropped the towel on the floor and pulled a pair of boxers from my dresser. I was lost in thought as I pulled on the boxers, splashed on some cologne on my body, wrapped my robe around my body, and then set out for the living room. 

Mom was already there curled up on the couch with a large drink in her hand. I sat down on the other end of the sofa and strained to see what was on the TV. It was a rather small set and the screen was pretty indistinct from this distance.

Mom said, "Come on over here where you can see it. I won't bite."

Without saying anything I slid closer until I could see what was on the screen. It was some flaky sitcom that I had very little interest in but it filled the time between sex with Carol and the time I went to bed. 

We watched the show in silence. Mom lit another cigarette and casually sipped her drink while I tried to figure out where she was coming from with her mention of Carol.

The commercial came on and Mom got up to fix herself another drink. When she came back she carried her glass in one hand and a can of beer for me in the other. She handed me the beer and sat down on the sofa once more.

"Thanks." I said.

"My pleasure." She responded, and then resumed her silence.

I sat there sipping on my beer in uneasy quiet. The can was nearly empty when I just couldn't take it any longer and asked, "How long have you known?"

"Known what?" She asked with mock ignorance.

"You know, about me and Carol." I replied in frustration.

"That would be Carol and I." She stated fussily before continuing, "From the beginning. Do you think that I'm stupid or blind?" She took a sip from her drink before continuing, "Besides, Carol told me all about it."

This revelation floored me and I sputtered, "She what? Carol told you all about it? When?"

"Pretty much at the beginning." Mom said quietly. "I found the cake platter that she left here and I knew it wasn't mine, when she came over to retrieve it I figured that something fishy was going on. Then when I noticed that you were spending a lot of time with her, I invited her over for a drink and asked her straight out what was going on." Mom took a sip from her drink and looked at my flabbergasted expression. A smile crossed her lips at the sight of my consternation and she continued.

"Carol was pretty forthcoming about the whole thing. She really likes you, you know? She thinks that you're the sexiest thing in the whole world." Mom said quietly and then continued, "After that we would get together when you were at work and your Dad was out and we would compare notes."

"Compare notes?" I muttered stupidly. "About what?" I finally stammered.

"About pretty much everything. Oh, you, your Dad, Carol's husband, our love lives and lovers. Carol gets pretty talkative after a couple of drinks, and she doesn't hold much back." She chuckled thinking about the conversations.

"Damn." I muttered.

"Yep, she told me everything you two did. She said that you're hung like a horse and have one hell of a staying power. It must have been fun for both of you." She finished cheerily.

"Yeah." I said sullenly. I felt like slithering away in embarrassment. My mother and my lover comparing notes over a drink at the dining room table, who'd a thought such a thing, would happen.

"Hey come on. It could have been worse. She might have had complaints about you. As it was she only had the best to say about you." She paused for a second to take a drink and then continued, "Are you going to miss her?"

"Miss her?" I responded densely.

"Yeah. You have to know that she's due any time now and after the baby is born she isn't going to have the time and energy for marathon sex sessions with you." She stopped to sip her drink and then continued, "Besides her husband is about to close the deal on a newer, and bigger house over in Olathe."

"Yeah, I figured it was coming to an end sometime soon, but I didn't know about the house." I replied and then I continued, "Yeah, I guess that I'll miss her and the sex. She was, is, a good friend."

"You don't love her?" Mom asked.

"No." I quickly replied. "I know that she loves me, she told me that, but I just like her as a friend. The sex is great, but I never fooled myself into thinking that it was anything but physical."

"That's good." Mom stated with evident relief and then we descended into silence once more.

Another commercial came on and Mom got up to freshen her drink. "You want another beer?" she slurred as she swayed past me.

"Yeah sure." I responded groggily.

I spaced out during the commercial and didn't really sense anything around me until Mom stood in front of me with two glasses in her hands. "You're out of beer so I made you one of my drinks." She said as she handed me a cold glass filled with a mixture of vodka and grapefruit juice.

"Thanks." I muttered and then brought the glass to my lips for a taste. "Not bad." I thought to myself, but it sure tasted strong to me. Oh well, I wasn't going any place tonight anyway.

"Is it alright?" Mom asked as she curled up on the couch once more.

"Yeah, it's fine." I responded. "Thank you." I continued as I raised the glass in a salute before taking a long sip from the strong liquid.

The vodka made my head spin a bit, and I could feel the flush of my skin from the alcohol. "Boy, I'm going to be a basket case pretty quick." I muttered.

"Join the crowd baby." Mom responded. "At least there's going to be two of us in the basket tonight." She continued as she raised her glass to her lips.

I was shocked that I'd said that out loud, "I'm going to have to watch what I say." I thought to myself and I watched Mom to see if I'd said that out loud too. When she didn't say anything I figured that I'd kept my mouth shut for that statement any way. 

I sipped my drink and looked around the room. I had lost whatever interest I'd had to begin with in the maudlin TV program playing on the tube. There wasn't much to see in our house. We moved around too much to accumulate much so the walls were mostly bare and the sectional sofa pretty thread bare. Even the TV was a cheap unit with maybe a fifteen-inch screen.

The only thing of interest to me was my mother. I watched her as she sat engrossed in her show. Occasionally she would lift her glass to her lips and take a sip. As she lowered her glass she would let out a little sighing sound, "Aaaahh." She would say as her glass came to rest on the arm of the couch.

Mom was wearing her red harem pajamas. They were made from a silk like fabric that originally had been red but now was pinker than anything. The pajamas were a two-piece outfit with baggy pants and a top like a vest. The two pieces were separated by a gap of flesh about four inches wide, through which Mom's slight roll protruded.

The vest top had a gold trim and had a deep cleavage through which the tops Mom's breasts could be seen. The outfit was Mom's favorite and she wore it most of the time so it wasn't something that I normally took an interest in. However, tonight I was fairly buzzed and my interests were different more carnal in nature. As such I was looking at Mom not so much as my mother but as the only female in the room.

I sipped my own drink and watched Mom lift her drink to her lips. As her arm moved I noticed that I could almost see through the thin, threadbare fabric of her top. The translucent fabric allowed her nipples and aureole to be clearly visible through the cloth. I gazed fixedly at them for a moment and my cock began to harden.

I ripped my attention away from Mom's clothes and slurred around a thickening tongue, "Dad go the Sporty's?"

"Yeah." Mom replied matter of factly. "He said that he's going to play a little pool with the boys, but I'm pretty sure that he's going to see that little slut Doreen." She brought the glass to her lips and slurred, "Not that I really give a fuck. I already got mine anyway, if you know what I mean."

She took a sip and lowered the glass before she looked at me and said, "Don't judge me badly baby, I love your Dad, I really do. But sometimes it really is hard to take his shit." She leaned over toward me and said conspiratorially, "You know, if he wasn't so damn good in bed I would have left him years ago." She brought her glass to her lips and drained it. "I think I need another drink. You need a refill?"

I looked at my drink and realized that it was empty too. "Yeah." I slurred.

"Good." She replied and she got up from the couch.

I put my glass out for her as she passed me and she said, "Come into the kitchen with me so we can talk while I make two more drinks."

I pushed myself off of the couch and staggered in pursuit of my mother. When I finally caught up with her she was standing unsteadily in front of the fridge. She reached in to retrieve the grapefruit juice lost her balance and almost fell over. I reached out to grab her as she staggered toward me and caught her under the arms.

"Looks like I'm a little drunk tonight baby." She tittered blurrily.

"Yeah me too." I responded as I lifted her up and braced her body against mine. My balance wasn't much better than hers, but at least I didn't fall over yet.

"Well at least we're drunk together. I hate to be a solitary drunk, it's so depressing." She slurred thickly and then she laughed. "You can let go of me now." She commented as she pushed lightly away from me.

It was then that I noticed that I was holding her by her tits and hastily let loose. She stood unsteadily and tested her balance.

"Looks like I'm ok now." She stated cheerily. "But look, my pajamas are all wet." She pouted.

I leaned toward her and sure enough there was a wet stain on her pajamas that extended from her breasts down her pants legs. I looked at my glass and realized that I must have spilled what little was left in my glass on her when I grabbed her.

I gazed at the wet spot and muttered, "I'm sorry Mom. I didn't mean to get you wet."

"That's alright baby. You only meant to catch me, it'll be alright." She gushed maternally and she stepped toward me to console me with a motherly hug and kiss.

She put her hand to my cheek and steadied herself while she placed a sloppy kiss on my lips. As she leaned in she nearly fell over and I found myself with another handful of woman as her body teetered onto mine.

"Ha-ha, sorry baby, I just can't stay off of you tonight." She giggled. "Now help me make our drinks so we can go back to the couch." 

With both of us working to make the drinks we quickly were finished and were able to stagger back to the living room. To steady her I kept my arm around her as we walked down the hall and when we finally sat down once more it just seemed natural to sit down together with my arm still around her.

Mom leaned her head against my shoulder and giggled, "Just look at the two of us." 

Even though I had no idea of what she meant by that I responded with, "Yeah just look."

We both tittered drunkenly and raised our glasses in salute before downing a large portion of our fresh drinks. I rubbed my hand over Mom's shoulder and looked down at her. From my vantage I could see right into Mom's cleavage, the soft white skin of her breasts stood out against the gold trim of the top. I watched admiringly as her mounds rose and fell with her breathing. Despite my best efforts to the contrary the sight made my dick begin to harden.

I leaned over and kissed her on the top of the head and she murmured, "Mmmm, that's sweet baby." And she nestled her head against my shoulder. "This feels good Mickey, just me and my favorite man."

I continued to watch the rise and fall of her breasts and noticed that the wet spot made by the spilled drink had made the nearly invisible fabric of her top cling tightly to her skin. I watched Mom's nipple and aureole through the cloth; they stood out distinctly where the cloth clung to them.

"I'm sorry about using you tonight baby." Mom murmured softly.

"Using me?" I responded dreamily.

"Yeah, you know, out in the kitchen earlier." She looked up into my eyes and then continued, "I should never have put you in that position, it wasn't fair for you."

It finally dawned on me what she was talking about and I chuckled before responding, "Oh hell, I already told you that I enjoyed the hell out of that. Just let me know if you want to do that again, it was a blast." I smiled and leaned over to give her a kiss.

"Yeah, but all the same it isn't right for a mother to do that to, with her son." She said softly before bringing her glass to her lips once more.

I took a small sip from my drink and slurred. "Look Mom, we're both consenting adults. You didn't force me to do anything that I didn't want to do."

"Really?" she said softly.

"Really." I confirmed. Then I continued, "You're a very attractive woman. If you weren't my mother I would be very happy to jump into the sack with you. What we did in the kitchen tonight was very exciting for me. Don't feel bad about it, I feel very honored to have had the experience with you."

"You're so sweet she gushed." And she lifted her chin to give me a peck on the cheek.

We sat in silence and sipped our drinks. I kept my hand running up and down Mom's shoulder. The feel of the silken clothe beneath my finger tips was slightly erotic. I ran my hand down to the bare skin beneath the short sleeves and I immediately felt the eruption of goose flesh on her upper arm.

"That feels good." Mom murmured softly.

"Mmmm, yeah it does." I murmured in response as my cock continued to rise.

"Ya know." Mom said thickly. "Your father wanted us to do a three some tonight, a threesome for Christ sake."

"Sounds like fun to me." I replied without thinking.

"Hell baby, I've never done a three some at all, let alone one with my son." She confessed thickly. Then she continued with interest, "Have you ever done a three-some?"

I took a drink from my almost empty glass and said slowly, "Yeah I have. I've done it a couple of times. Once with two women, and once with a man and a woman."

"A man and a woman?" She inquired warily.

I laughed softly and said, "Yeah, I was doing one end of the gal and he was doing the other."

"Oh." She stated as she mulled the revelation over in her mind. Finally she said, "Was it fun? I mean for all of you?"

"I didn't have any complaints, and I didn't hear any from any of the other people involved." I said lightly.




In Praise of Older Women



Summer 1944, I was a skinny, rootless eighteen-year-old just out of high school. The world was at war, and I was waiting to be drafted. I'd never been laid, and there weren't many guys my age who had, though we thought about it plenty. 

We lived a ways out of town in a house at the end of a long driveway that wound through some woods. There weren't many houses out there, and those that were, were nothing to speak of. By today's standards we were poor.

A bunch of us hung out at a drug store in a market by the end of the streetcar line. There was a candy store in the market, too.

The night clerk at the candy store was a young woman named Fern, twenty-two, nice looking, with great tits. She lived across the field from me, and as a teenager, had a reputation for sexual promiscuity. She found a steady boy friend, and at twenty got married and settled down. Then he joined the Marines, and was killed in the Pacific. After that Fern lived quietly at home with her parents.  

On the night in question, most of my crowd had gone home, and I decided to go, too. I came around the corner, and stopped for a moment to admire Fern's tits through the candy store window. She leaned on the top of the showcase with her arms spread out to support her, talking with Jake Carlson. Her stance gave me an eye-popping view of her magnificent chest.  Jake was leaning on his elbow leering at Fern's tits, and she looked uncomfortable. Suddenly Jake reached out and grabbed her breast. She reared back and smacked him so hard his head snapped around. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and I thought he was going over the counter after her, but he turned around and strode out the door. His nose was bleeding, and his face had a look of fury that frightened me. 

I faded into the shadows while he ran to his truck, an old pickup with a loud muffler, and he roared off in a shower of gravel. I came around the corner to look at Fern, and she saw me. 

"Sammy," she pleaded, "wait for me, please?"

I nodded, and watched her turn out the lights and lock up.

She said, "Sammy, I'm in trouble, will you walk me home?"

I didn't know what she was so scared of, she had a brother named Ralph who was at least as big as Jake, and even meaner. He'd beat the crap out of several guys who tried something with his sister.

I wasn't sure what I was getting into, but I couldn't say no, so we headed out almost running. We were just at my driveway when we heard Jake's truck coming.

"Oh God," Fern wailed. I've got to hide."

"In here," I said, and grabbed her hand to pull her into the driveway. We ran a few steps up the drive, and I pulled her off the roadway, down a little slope to a big evergreen tree.

The branches swept the ground, and since I was a little kid, I had a secret hideaway under them. I had scraped the ground level, and padded it with a thick layer of dead leaves I renewed every year. 

I pulled Fern in behind me as Jake's truck roared by. When he passed, she started to get up, but Jake came to a screeching halt, made a squealing U-turn, and roared back to pull into our driveway.

We lay still, hearts pounding, while he tramped around searching with a flashlight, muttering about goddamn cock-teasing whores. Scared silly, we held our breaths, but Jake never looked under the branches. At last he got back in his truck, and roared off. 

The space was small, and I held her close with her sweet breath in my face, and her wonderful tits pressed to my chest. I'd never been that close to a woman except my own mother, and Fern had a scent that gave me strange feelings. I was deathly embarrassed to realize I had a hard on.

I tried to pull away, but her hand strayed to my groin and kneaded the lump. She gasped, and whispered, "Omigod," and started kissing me. I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't stop. 

She sucked my lips into her mouth, and I could feel her fumbling with my belt. I knew that thing had to come out or it would break, and the rush of relief as it came free, and she began to fondle it, is something I remember today. 

She began to stroke it in a way that created sensations I'd never felt before. Suddenly, she stopped kissing me, and put her mouth around my cock. She licked and sucked, and stroked until I thought I'd explode. When my back began to arch, she took her mouth off my cock, and finished with her hand. I came, and came, and came, and came, shooting a load like I'd never done before.

The moon was bright, our eyes had adjusted to the dark, and dim light penetrated our hiding place. Faintly I could see she her smearing my cum along her inner thighs and over her pussy, squirming, sighing, and breathing hard.

The sight was getting me hard again, and she began to fondle my cock as though she were growing it up to size. When it was full, she hiked up her skirt to straddle me, and lowered herself on it. She began to ride me, slowly at first, then with increasing tempo. Befuddled though I was with this new experience, I began matching her strokes with thrusts of my own, as she moaned and whimpered through teeth clenched to keep her silent. 

At the end we were fucking wildly, and finally, I exploded while she thrashed her hips side-to-side, and collapsed on top of me. We lay quietly now, gasping. I had my arms around her, caressing her back, as we returned to the world. Quickly she climbed off me, and wordlessly went about brushing herself off, and smoothing her clothes.

Then she changed. From the bundle of uncontrolled passion she had been moments before, she turned into a spiteful, vicious bitch. Through clenched teeth she hissed, "Listen, little shit, you breathe a word of this to anybody, and I'll sic Ralph on you, and you know how he is."

At that she crawled out of our lair, and strode off. I lay there a few moments longer, not sure whether I had a real experience, or just a dream.

The next day's mail delivered my draft notice. I never went back to the candy store, and in two weeks I was gone. A year later I was in the Philippines, but the shooting was over, and soon I was in the Army of Occupation in Japan.

I got laid there. It was hard not to. You bring thousands of healthy young men who've been living with danger, into a defeated country, most of whose young men have died in battle, where there's a surplus of young women and people are starving, and soon the drives to survive and procreate take over. 

That's an old man's wisdom talking. Then, it was simple. You wanted ass, you got it, at rock bottom prices. We sang a little ditty to the tune of, "My Darling Clementine." It described the situation perfectly. It went, "Chewing gum-o, chocolate-o, cigarette-o, thirty yen, all night sleep-o, no present-o, arigato, come again." "Arigato," is Japanese for, "Thank you."

There were rules against fraternization, and the Japanese frowned on their women consorting with the hated white conquerers, too, but all of them might as well have told the sun not to rise. Nature trumps the rules and traditions of men, always.

I got home in August 1947, taller, heavier, and a lot more worldly than when I left. I barely had time to say hello when Mom asked me to get a dozen eggs so she could make me a special welcome home dish.

I asked her where to get them and she said the milk store. I asked where the milk store was and she said it used to be the candy store. I got to the door and saw Fern behind the counter. She was older, as indeed I was myself, a little heavier, and highly pregnant. I hesitated a moment before going in. The memory of the night three years before was vivid in my mind.

As I came to the counter her eyes widened with recognition, and I sensed she remembered, too. Then she smiled. 

"Hello Sammy." She cocked her head, looking me up and down, "I see you've grown some."

I noticed she had a fair-sized diamond and a wedding band, and looked serene and happy. I smiled, and said, "Hi Fern, you're looking pretty good yourself. Mom wants a dozen eggs."

"I'll get 'em," she said, and returned with the carton.

I handed her the dollar Mom gave me, and as she returned the change she held my hand for a moment saying, "I'm sorry I never thanked you."

I was nonplused. Never thanked me for what, I wondered. For saving you from Jake? For taking advantage and screwing you silly when you were lonely, grieving, and scared to death? For not telling anyone about it?

I didn't know why she was thanking me, but I said, softly "Hey Fern, it's I who should be thanking you."

Out on the street, I turned and waved, and Fern waved back. I never saw her again.

A week later I was in another state registering for college on the G.I Bill, and six months after that, I was having an affair with my English professor, a cool and lovely woman with a silver streak in her hair. I was twenty-two, and she was a Ph.D., so go figure. I do have this thing about older women.

I was gone another six years getting a Ph.D. of my own. When I came back that time, I caught up on the local gossip. Jake was doing time for manslaughter. Not much of a surprise there. Ralph was in the priesthood. Big surprise there, I didn't know he even went to church.

Fern was married to the local banker. She bought the candy store with her first husband's G.I. Life Insurance, turned it into the milk store, parlayed that into owning the market, bought surrounding properties, and developed the town's first shopping center. She was a power in the community from her business acumen, and her charitable work, as well.

Years later I received tenure at Stanford, and it was reported in the local paper. By then, our little town had grown past 100,000. Fern was still the "queen bee," and I mean that in no derogatory sense. She was rich, but she was unfailingly courteous and pleasant to everyone, was loved by many, and envied by some.

In Mom's last letter before she died, she told me she'd run into Fern on the street. Fern complimented her on raising a fine son, and told her she was proud to have known me, too. Mom thought it was a wonderful compliment to both of us, coming from such an important person. You just never know how people are going to turn out.



In Praise of Older Women



I saw Su on several occasions before actually meeting her; her appearance drew my attention. She wore a silly, drab outfit that made her look like something out of a 1920s novel. She was 62 at this time but dressed like a woman of 90! She clearly did not care about how she looked; her hair was very short and grey and she looked underfed too.

She wore a very long skirt with clumpy boots and many tops, such as cotton tops and jumpers; this is in mid July. I could see that she was slim but most of her bulk came from her dreary clothes.

One day, we actually met, in a college were I worked and where she was employed for 3 months teaching English to international students. I realised that she was quite shy yet rather appealing in a way. She asked me to help her with her computer. As I started her laptop computer, I realised that it was brand new and that she would have to register the operating system in her name, but she had disappeared!

I left the machine on a bench and did something else. Ten minutes later she came back, but now she wore a nice snug pair of jeans, a cotton top and just one thin jumper. The important thing to me was that I could now see down her top! I sat her down in front of the laptop and got her to complete the initial run and registration of the software, all the time looking at her lovely small tits. Well, most of them - she did have a bra on!

I was sure that she dressed for my benefit and I felt confident that Su was not just a worn-out, old fossil! In about 30 mins, we had the computer up and running and she was on the internet, logging into her first ever email account with Yahoo! I sat next to her on my computer and sent her a flirty email for her to log in and read. She sent me a nice reply, not fully flirty, but enough to get me even more interested.

During the morning, she came to see me several times and at break time, I made us both a cuppa and sat with her chatting about her work. She asked me if I'd be good enough to connect her to the internet in her room, on campus, as she was unsure of the whole procedure. I arranged to visit her at 1pm.

When I entered her accommodation, I was happy to see that she had a whole 5-room cottage in the campus to herself, as this was the vacation period. She made me a cup of tea and we sat down in the kitchen to work on her laptop. Again, I got her to sit down at the machine and stood beside her gazing with desire at her tiny tits.

At times, maybe because the room was brighter, I caught glimpses of her nipples as she typed slowly on the keypad, squeezing her breasts together. I was getting very aroused and my flirting increased to touching her arms and shoulders.

Suddenly, she leaned against my hips, rested her head on my waist and sighed. "Bloody computers!" she moaned, fed up with typing. I rested my arm on her shoulders and gently pulled her closer to me, turning slightly toward her. "You shouldn't waste too much time on them," I said, making up my sad script as I went on. "Life is too short!"

Su looked up to me shyly and asked if I would like more tea.

I shook my head in negative but cocky reply, still holding her shoulders and gazing into her eyes, making her look away.

She then looked up to me again and held my hand. That was enough for me. I gripped her hand and urged her to stand. She stood in front of me and I held her waist gently. "Show me your room then!" I said, full of confidence and desperate to get intimate with her mature body. I had to get a proper look at her tiny old tits.

She paused and looked at me, as if she might object, or perhaps, as if she ought to object. She did not, but just looked at me unsure. I pulled her closer, my knob growing all the time, as I felt sure she would like to go upstairs.

There was no doubt about what was in our minds and what was going to happen. She rested her arms on my chest and loosely held her own hands, twisting her fingers together. She looked like a shy virgin!

"I need to go to the toilet!" she said but you can carry the "thing" up to my room for me. She referred to the laptop, so I nodded, grabbed it, along with the power cable and took it up the stairs. Su followed me and led me to her room, the only one open, flooded with brilliant sunlight. I entered and placed the computer on her desk as she went into the toilet. I heard the flush go and then the taps run. I sat down on the bed and waited many minutes for her to return.

She came in still holding the small towel that she had used and started to fidget with things, tidying up and looking in her clothes drawers.

"Are you OK honey?" I asked hoping that she would settle again.

She made a noise in her throat and carried on.

"Maybe I should go!" I offered, sure that she now felt uncomfortable.

"That's up to you!" she replied, not looking at me.

"I'm not convinced!" I played back, waiting for her to get the courage to look at me. In a while, she did, but only briefly. I asked her to sit with me and help me feel relaxed.

"OK!" she said and sat beside me.

I moved closer; the sun burned our arms as it shone into the room. It lit up her upper body and mine as I put my arms around her. I pulled gently at her body and she relaxed again, this time resting on me. I kissed her head as she held my left hand in both of hers, sighing as I kissed her face and ear, trying to kiss her neck too. "Oh!" she sighed in a responsive and encouraging way.

"Do you think we should get into your bed?" I asked her full of daring and bubbling with confidence.

"What do you think?" she replied.

"I do not think there is any doubt about it!" I whispered to her, crushing her slowly in both arms.

"You are very direct!" Su whispered, looking at the bright window.

"I think we have to be!" I said, hoping that she would accept my insight.

I stood and pulled her to me again, this time she wrapped her arms around me and we kissed. Gently and slowly, I kissed her lips, both together and one at a time. Suddenly, I pulled away from her and undid my shirt. As she looked on, I undid my jeans and pushed them down, removing my socks and shoes as I did so.

Su looked at me for a second and then looked away, her fingers fiddling with her low cut cotton top.

"I think we should both enjoy a nice cuddle!" I said, trying to lead her slowly.

Bravely, I pushed the woollen cardigan from her shoulders and she allowed me to slide it down her arms, as I reach behind her. Before she could settle, I pull the waist of her top up her body. Again, shy, like a child, she lifts her arms and allows me to remove it. I undo her belt but then she took over and undid her zipper, pushing her jeans down her thighs. In a few seconds, we both stood in our underwear. I lift the duvet on her single bed and asked, "Inside or out?"

Happily, she did not reply but slid into the bed on the inside. I follow her and slowly pull the duvet over our bodies.

The bed was very small and we had trouble with our arms. Within a minute, we were both laughing at our clumsy ways.

"This bed is not made for two!" Su giggled at me.

This was so good, in less than a minute and we were relaxed.

An obvious solution was for her to lie on top of me. I pull her tiny body over mine and we settled like this for maybe 10 minutes.

We talk now about our married status, she is single, I am married, but we don't care. I pull the duvet down and we enjoy the cool air on us as well as the warm sun on our skin. In time, we start kissing again and soon she was showering my face and eyes with tender kisses.

I reach behind her and unclip her flimsy bra. I was pleased that she lifted herself and pulled the cloth from between us, throwing it onto the floor. Now I have full access to her lovely breasts. I was so thrilled and surprised that they had some firmness and her pale nipples pushed into my palm.

Gripping her shoulders, my fingers going into her armpits, I pushed her up in the air above me and stare with desire at her female form. Her breasts are a delight and in a short while, she looks down at them too. We both gaze at her while I wrap my legs around her hips, in a suggestive manner.

As I lower her onto me again, I thrill at the feel of her tits as they push into my chest. She smiles at me and we kiss softly again. As her weight fell on me, I slid my hands down her warm body, scooping her panties with both hands, pushing them down as far as I could. Thrilling me, Su lifts her hips to enable this.

It is strange that we were going so fast, yet we both went at a slow pace. All this had happened in one day, but in her bed, we slow down and we chat at times, play around and kissing gently, not yet wild with passion. I told her how much I loved her small boobs and she accepted my praise with a thank you as we both looked at them.

Now, I rolled her from me and she removed her panties. I did the same with my pants and we both rolled on our sides, facing each other again. I proudly rested my half-hard cock between her thighs and pulled her close to me. Her head rested on my right arm, as if it were a pillow and I kissed her face this time. I glance down at her soft flesh, which hung down slightly between us. I lifted her right breasts and slowly pushed it into her body, using small circular motions.

Su sighed again as we did this and her hand slipped down to grip my tingling cock. Her touches were so sensuous, innocent and cleverly mature. She made my tool throb with proud delight; simply squeezing it slowly in her hand while her thighs squeeze together, telling me of her sexy condition.

We played like this for a few minutes until I spoke.

"I'd love to make love with you darling!" I declared, proud to tell her so.

She simply nods at me, reverting to shy mode again.

I smooth my hand down her belly until I feel the sparse hair on her pubic bone. Very gently, I push the leading edge of my palm over her pussy, forcing her to part her legs. Su rolls over against the wall, not quite on her back but enough to expose her sex to me. I slide my palm gently over her and then move myself so that I can look at her.

Her thighs tighten as she realises that I want to gaze at her sex, but I grip her thighs as soon as she started this. In response, Su just sighed and buried her head into the pillow. I gaze at her small, pink lips; almost bare, she had just a few hairs scattered over her pubis. I move closer and again she winces as I approached her. Her pussy smells of soap; I did not care for her mild protest and move even closer to her. I see with great detail, her tiny slit, lit brightly by the sun. She is very small, her slit only a few inches from tip to clit! I gaze at it, as I push her wider, seeing her flesh part for me, tiny inner lips now visible.

Crudely, I push her hips down so that she lays flat. I push her legs apart and stare at her tight, little slit. I slow down, not wanting to rush things, but I do want to look at her body, even if it makes her wince with shy agony.

Now, to emphasise my determination, I pushed her chest down and she relaxes onto her back. I raise myself and pull her left leg around me as I kneel between her legs. I gaze again at her little gash and lift her hips, making her lay before me, fully exposed and completely vulnerable.

I look at her face now, as I lower myself over her; she is bright red and she gasps in submission as I make my intentions obvious to her. I have a crude grin as I let my tongue out, slowly licking my lips as if I were about to enjoy a great meal.

As I move my lips to hers, she tries again, impulsively, to close her thighs. It is a silly attempt as my body is fully placed between her legs. Still grinning at her, but very close to her, I let my finger slide along her sexlips. She is soaked and my index finger slips between her lips so easily, as it slides up to her clit.

I thrill as I feel her hips shudder in response. I can smell her quim too, gently scented with sex-desire. Sure that I was about to shock her, I let my mouth fall on her hot pussy. Her smell was so good now, as her sex passion overcame the soap that she had recently used. I thrill at the sensations I imagine in her sex.

Her hips push up to me and gently, I slide my sexy tongue along her slit, reaching her clit, which I keep under my top lip. I have a flood of juice from her old slit and am able to make out her tiny little sex-hole with my tongue. As my tongue reaches her little button, she shudders and gasps. In a few strokes, her hands grip my hair, guiding my head onto her most sensitive parts.

I let my crude finger penetrate her little hole as I kiss her mercilessly. Her hips shudder as her movements become uncoordinated and uncontrolled. Within a few minutes, I knew that she was close to exploding.

I slow down again and lift my head from her slightly; she pulls me from her and gazes through glazed eyes at me, then pushes me back onto her. Her hips push up to greet my mouth and again, I started to lick her hole, her slit and tease her clit.

I replace my finger with two and reach so far inside her, stroking her cervix softly; I slide them around it and find the firm region of flesh at the topside of her vagina. This, with my greedy tongue on clitty was too much for her and she gasped a long and sexual sigh as my hand pushes her hips high. My mouth finishes off all resistance and in seconds, she is melting away in heavenly thrills.

I have a wonderful feeling of power over her as she climaxes, so I cruelly force my mouth over her sex, my fingers too, rubbing her G-spot. Suddenly, powerless or even unaware, a small jet of pee fills my mouth, followed by another, accompanied by a long and loud gasp from Su.

I let the water drip slowly from me, but found the event so exciting, that my tool tingled desperately into the mattress, crushed beneath my body. I lick more, trying to milk her bladder, enjoying the taste of her in my throat.

Su pulls my head up now, gripping my hair. As I move from her, her thighs clamp on my arms in a vain attempt to cover her sex. I realise that she is uncomfortable so I allow her to move me, by pulling my head higher. I remove my body from hers and she clamps her legs closed, then pulls me down beside her.

I feel my solid cock rub on her thighs as I lay down. She gasps again and pulls me close to her; we kiss and I smile as I realise that my face is so sticky and gooey, covered in her juices. We kiss for a minute when suddenly, she pulls me over her and parts her legs once more.

I hover over her, my eyes hazy, face red and sweaty, arms weak but my cock is pounding with a wild passion. I sense that my tool is pointing at her unused hole and I move closer. I touch her and my cock slips over her slimy slit directly onto her little entrance.

The intense heat of her sex burns the tip of my rod, shocking me; my arms give way and I quickly rest my weight on my elbows, keeping my back bent so that only our sexes touch. I look at Su, but her eyes are closed, a look of agony on her face, beads of sweat on her brow and lips. I know she wants me so I slowly press on her.

I am amazed to feel her little hole close in automatic response to my swollen tool. I press more and she allows me into her, her muscles twitching and rolling over my shaft. She is so wet that my rod slowly moves into her in a single, gentle stroke. She sighs again, her palms on my shoulders as if to control me.

I withdraw and push once more, this time, sinking completely into her mature frame. The sensation is so exquisite that I have to stop. Frozen above her, I let the sensations in my cock ripple through my body into my head; I have to store this feeling.

Suddenly, she looks up to me, so I raise myself a few inches to focus on her eyes. She rests her hands on my shoulders now and we gaze lovingly at each other. I feel her legs close and automatically, knowing, I lift my left knee from the bed, placing it over hers. I do the same with my right knee, and now she closes her thighs on my balls, crushing them gently; we suddenly smile at each other and I lower onto her again.

Her arms reach up and embrace my neck; I kiss her and she sighs lovingly in my ear. The sensation is utterly adorable; completely still, our sexes thrill each other with ripples and throbs.

Su grips my neck hard, and suddenly flexes her internal muscles, squeezing my happy tool. I sigh and whisper to her that she is so exciting. It is strange that we are so excited, yet we seem to stop and chat casually. After a minute or so, I again lift my chest so that I may look at her tits. Now, they are damp with sweat and pale where they have been crushed by my weight, the impression of my chest hairs visible.

"I love your breasts!" I declare to her truthfully.

"Thank you, she replies smiling up to me. "But I don't know why!"

"Oh stop it!" I say, trying to stop her normal response. "You have a lovely body!"

"For an oldy?" she taunted me.

"You have a lovely body!" I declare again. "Period!"

"Exclamation mark!" she corrected me. "I teach English remember?"

"Mmmmm, I've always wanted to make love with a teacher!" I joke.

As I said this, I raised my body and hips, my cock withdrawing from her, wet slime spreading over her closed thighs.

Suddenly, Su raised her hips and my solid rod slipped back into her heated body. I froze and sighed in response. Slowly, Su repeated the movement, my prick throbbing as her sex swallowed my shaft whole. Her sensuous movement slow and deliberate, sent thrills into my aching balls as my ball bag stretched, still clamped between her thighs.

"Oh fuck!" I moaned, "that is so sexy."

Her hands caress my shoulders and chest now as she confidently moves her body under mine. We look again at each other; she has changed completely now, full of feminine confidence, her sexual nature coming out and her shyness fading. My shaft rubs over her thighs as it passes deeper into her sex. We are both soaked with her lovejuice now and this action is so easy.

"I love your body Su, you are a beautiful woman."

She grinned at me and said, "Carry on saying that, I believe you at the moment!"

"You are lovely darling," I said, this time I am utterly sincere.

Su proudly lifts her hips until my cock fills her again. Suddenly, she speeds her action, and thrills shoot through me. I look down to her belly, as she slowly parts her legs for balance, concentrating now on her clever fucking motion.

I try to control my body, but this is too much.

Almost instantly, my spunk spills from me, burning deep in my belly as it burst through my shaft. I feel my prick swell inside her; my breath gushes from me in a loud moan and she grips my arms close to my shoulders. I sense her urging me to fill her, by her grip. Suddenly, my legs collapse and we fall onto the bed. Her thighs part as far as she is able and my hips slam into hers, my movement hindered by my own legs being outside of hers.

"Oh darling!" she mumbles, crushed by my weight and power of my lust.

I pound her fragile frame, pushing my prick as far as possible into her tiny hole. I know it fits well inside her, but in my lust filled head, I want to tear her wide open.

Now, my entire weight is on her small frame and she welcomes me fully. As I spurt into her, she clamps me again and her arms wrap around my neck once more as she urges me to give my love to her.

Now, her tiny hole grips me tightly as again her thighs clamp my hanging balls. I can only twitch in her, my hips frozen by my passion. She kisses my neck wildly, whispering love words to me as I groan in ecstatic agony on her beautiful body.

I try to keep moving but soon, I have to relax. My prick still fills her but I feel it bend in her tight grip. I lay fully on her, aware now that our bodies are soaked with sweat. As I lay on her Su ripples her pussy muscles on my rod, teasing me and thrilling me further.




In Praise of Older Women



I rest for a minute or two, now aware that the sun is hot on my bottom and thighs. I don't care, I just want to stay on this amazing female form. I force my cock to throb in her and she grins at me, pulling me closer. We exchange "twitches" as we lay like this, soon giggling like kids.

I feel my cock, still large and still deep in her; it is the most delightful sensation for me, as her tiny hole bends me to her shape.

In a minute or so, I ask her if she is ok.

"Mmmmmmmm!" is all she says.

"Am I heavy?" I ask her.

"NO!" she replied instantly, pulling my neck closer to her face, keeping me there.

I feel so glad as she urges me to relax my tired body on hers. I let my arms rest and relax my legs, but I do push my shrinking tool into her, amazed that it still slides in her tube.

Later, I have to rush back to work, but I return to Su's room in the evening. Su and I made love many times and each time, we made it like perfect lovers. We were so good together.

More to follow if there is any interest. 



In Praise of Older Women



It seems that every man I know has fantasies that revolve around younger women. You know the type, the twenty two year olds that belong on the pages of the Victoria's Secret catalogs. These women invariably seem to have blond or red hair and large breasts, super toned physics and an air of innocence. Maybe that's what they find so attractive? Are these men trying to recapture a sense of their youth when bills and kids and a wife grown distant or sour didn't compete for which one will cause them the most stress? Or maybe it reminds them of a time when they did not have to work so hard in a job they hate for money they need to buy things they don't want? A time when love, or whatever passed for it, was more important than mortgages and politics. Or maybe what they are attracted to is the raw, healthy, sexual energy that these young women exude. It focuses their own sexuality into a laser sharp point that propels them to act where they shouldn't. Or maybe it's just the bragging rights. 

Let me tell you, these guys don't know what they are missing!

First let me say that I have never turned down sex with a young beautiful woman, and they are a healthy part of my sex life. That's not the point of this. The point is to extol the virtues of older women in all of their glory. To remind older men what they may have forgotten and to let younger men know what they are missing. 

The first woman I ever slept with was in her late 30s and over 20 years older than I was. She was my first lover, she taught me much of what I know about being great in bed, and laid the ground work for a lot of what I still find attractive today. So here are some of my reasons that older women are so incredibly worth the pursuit.

Availability: Okay so let's get this one out of the way first. If you are a sexually frustrated young man in your late teens or early twenties and just can't seem to find a girl that wants to have sex with you, stop everything you are doing, go walk around your neighborhood and introduce yourself to every middle aged, bored house wife that you live close to. You don't have to make a pass at them all, just compliment them during the conversation, say something nice about how pretty they are and if they are interested they'll let you know. I guarantee there is someone in your area that is bored enough and horny enough they will want to fuck you. Really!

Chances are all they want is sex with a younger guy because it's a real thrill, and taboo, and they aren't looking for anything more than that. It won't prevent you from dating or going after girls your own age, but it will prepare you for when you find one and be a lot of fun in the process. 

It's All About the Sex, Especially if They are Married: When you date younger women it's about the seduction. You have to give them a valid reason to sleep with you and that involves dinners and movies and drinks and parties. All of those things are wonderful and a lot of fun but can also be frustrating. A virgin requires a lot more work to get into bed than a woman that is more experienced and understands that sex isn't always about true love. It can also be about fun, or pleasure or a thousand other things.

Married women are even better because it's an affair. Affairs are really exciting, and sneaking around makes it ten times more exciting. It's all motel rooms, and pool houses when their husband's at work, or maybe and occasional sleep over when he's away on business. It's a couple of drinks (It makes the guilt go down easier), a little small talk, wild sex and then you're done. When I was in college there were many times I would swing by my neighbor's house in the afternoon when her husband wasn't around, go home, clean up and then go on a date with a girl my own age. I would even talk with her about the girls I dated and slept with. It was a turn on for both of us.

Pure Skill: This may be hard for some people to grasp, but sex is a skill, being good in bed takes practice, being great takes determination. Believe me when I say that older women will do things to you that will blow your mind, things your little hottie is going to think are just gross. More to the point she can teach you things and give you a level of confidence that will make you look like a rock star to your girlfriend. 

Maybe you were born with it, maybe you were just taught by a cougar!

Sexual Arousal: It differs from woman to woman, obviously, and there are always exceptions to the rule, but older women get aroused FASTER and orgasm HARDER than girls do. Basically past 35 is when that sex drive really kicks in. Personally I think it has a lot more to do with them being more comfortable with their own bodies than with anything physiological, but there is a profound difference in how older women become sexually aroused.

Have you ever had a woman literally drip for you? If you haven't, you should. Anyone that tells you a woman's orgasm is irrelevant to a man's is full of bullshit. There is nothing as erotic as making a woman cum so hard she loses all control. As men, we can reach orgasm virtually any time and anywhere, but a woman's orgasm is something that has to be coaxed out of her and matured like fine whisky. Being the cause of that is something you have to experience to believe. 

Physical Bodies: One of the things that turns a lot of the younger guys away is that older women tend to be a little larger than younger women; maybe they aren't as fit as they once were. I like a toned physic as much as the next man, but let's be realistic. Women are supposed to be soft and warm and comfortable to hold, not hard and bony. What do a few extra pounds matter when she is deep throating you? You aren't going to give a fuck about her dress size when you have her bent over the arm of the sofa. 

And where does all that extra weight go? It goes to her breasts, hips, and ass first. These are the very characteristics that we most closely associate with sexual readiness and attractiveness. 

LESS DRAMA: I cannot stress this one enough! Young people of any gender mean a lot of extra drama. Women that have matured, and I don't just mean physically, have learned the coping skills in life to keep things lower key. They are better at dealing with life in general, and they know how to keep a secret. This is very useful.

Willingness: I almost put this one under several different categories, but I think it needs its own mention. I've touched on it in a couple of other places but it bears repeating. Older women are more experienced, and less likely to balk at trying new things or being sexually adventurous. 

Have you ever had fantasies about tying a woman up, or being tied up yourself? What about some nice spanking or maybe you want to try some real roleplaying? What about force fantasies or even anal? Have you ever wanted to be with two women at once? You are much more likely to get an experienced woman to try these things.

Even more important than what fantasies you have been carrying around all these years is that she's much more likely to know what SHE wants. Some of the best sexual experiences I've ever had have been with women that could share their fantasies with me and opened my eyes to things I didn't know about or weren't on my fetish radar. 

Not every woman is the same, and to assume they are is not just bad judgement, but a lack of imagination. All of these things are not going to apply to every woman you meet, young or old, but my experience tells me that a lot of men forget that women are still vibrant and sexy and even sexually aggressive far past their early 30s. Women aren't meant to be discarded just because they have outgrown a pair of jeans that fit them when they were 18.

Our society puts a high value on very specific physical attributes, and there is nothing wrong with those, but real gold can also lie elsewhere. Go find out why I'm saying that and have some fun along the way. I promise you won't regret it!

Hey, thanks for reading. I always like hearing from the people that read my stories. Please feel free to write me any time, and if you include an email address I'll even write back. Thanks again.