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My Wicked Mature
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My Wicked Mature When I was in my thirties I met an older woman while shopping who was in her fifties. We connected on a of levels over a vase and agreed on joining each other for dinner, but it wasn't until we met out for dinner that our physical sides came alive. I spent the afternoon thinking how cool I was having picked up an older woman while shopping Fred Segal. I thought the whole thing from my opening remark about the vase to the last mention of having dinner together was all me, but little did I know... That evening we sat at a table side by side and talked as we grazed through the food laid out before us. We tasted meats and seafood and traded stories of our pasts. At one point she brought up a story of how she seduced a much younger man. She would meet him out and stroke him under the table until he came in his own pants. She admitted it was her own little fetish - to know that while no one could see what she was oing, she knew that beneath the fabric of his jeans he was swimming in a load of his own cum. And she pronounced every syllable of those words "load of his own cum," as her tongue slipped in between her dark red lips. My eyes and my attention were transfixed on her lips as she slipped an oyster past them or dangled a thinly sliced strip of prosciutto into her mouth - the final pink flesh dangling from her lips before she used a single finger to gently lift it past her lipstick and chew it with a smirk. We both knew what she was doing and we both relished her for it. At one point in the conversation and flirtation I felt her fingers graze my thigh far too close to my crotch for it to be anything else but intentional. There was no apology, just her delicious smirk as she took a sip of her wine. I was rock hard and her fingers felt it. She felt my package so firmly that her hand slipped around me and held my cocks and balls firmly. Her fingers stroked me through my slacks, her ringer tips tightly massaged me and outlined my mushroomed head and my hard shaft while her eyes never broke contact. "You are a healthy one, aren't you? At one point she leaned over and said "why don't you go into the restroom and take your underwear off. I know it would be a lot more interesting for both of us." She said it in a normal tone, not trying to hide her words from those around us, almost enjoying the fact that they could, conceivably, hear. I know part of me froze, suddenly not so cocky or sure that it had not been me doing the seducing all along. I smiled back and simply nodded my head. I walked to the bathroom, found a stall and took my underwear off. I was wearing black slacks and checked myself out in the mirror before returning. Only then did I realize that what was my bulge was now the center pole in a circus tent. My eight inch dick was clearly hard and showing everything it could to anyone who looked and even to those who didn't. I was just young enough and just horny enough to not care. Out I went and walked across the dinning room floor. At first I kept my hands in my pockets to hide my hard on, but then I said to myself, "screw it. If this is what she wants to see, then dammit I'll show it all." And I did. She patted the seat beside her and I sat down, only now it wasn't just my package she grabbed but the details of my penis she traced. All of her fingers ran up and down my shaft. The tips of her digits traced the mushroomed head in and around the point where it connected to my shaft. I knew where she was going with it and just let her do her thing. I watched as she got off in pleasuring me in front of all these people without any of them acknowledging what was going on. She kept the conversation low and naughty. She asked me what I thought of the group of five girls a few tables from us. She asked if I would like to fuck them all together "on one big bed?" She asked me what position I thought a trophy wife enjoyed getting fucked in. She told me how a dapper husband loved getting bent over his bed and fucked slowly by his strapped wife and how his wife would tell him to suck her strap-on once she was done. She would tell me about her long nipples and how she was teased about them in boarding school but how unbelievably sensitive they are to this day. Between listening to her stories and comments while feeling her play with my cock in semi-public I just let things run their course. I knew where it was going, I knew that I would cum before we left the restaurant, I also knew I didn't care. I was actually looking forward to swimming in a load of my own cum. I actually wanted to feel my balls empty themselves down my pant leg and then slowly drop down my leg as we stood up and exited the restaurant. But before that could happen she would stop and pat my erection, allowing me to cool down. She repeated this teasing again and again as I just kept heating up. What I didn't know was that when we got to my apartment she asked me to strip for her as she commented on my size and girth. She enjoyed my torment as she watched my arousal grow. What I didn't know was what else she had in mind for me. She enjoyed the show and how much her teasing was getting to me. Her way of arousing and then stopping had driven me to a point I never knew before. At one point she began speaking as if she were my mother. Not my mom, but my mother, asking me if I was a good boy or a bad one, all while lifting up her skirt and telling me to come closer. She took my hand and undid my pants while reaching up to lightly stroke me some more. When my knees started to give out she pulled me down and laid me across her lap. She pulled me over so that my fully hard cock pressed into her thighs. I almost laughed as she begin to spank me - and yes, I was getting into it despite how her fantasy was taking a turn for the turned on and slightly odd path. I was young and randy and frankly didn't care what she was up to as she begin to spank and then caress my bottom. Or how she would bend me over her knees to slide a finger along my ass before spanking me like the bad, wicked, naughty boy I was. I could feel my now fully erect cock pushing against her thigh as she continued to gently spank me while caressing her finger around, careful to not go in, but around the oh so sensitive edges of my opening. It was sublime. It was hot. It was pushing me to places I had never been. I could feel her saliva drip onto me as she had me almost begging for more. Her skill at taking me to the edge before pulling back from it with a well-placed spank and then again caressing my bottom was just too much. I could feel her pressing into me without ever going too far. From time to time her fingers would find my hardness as it lay flat out behind me. Her fingers would edge me gently picking up a droplet and use it as lube, leaving me sighing and moaning, squirming for more. But it never came. I never came either until she rolled me over and asked me to stroke myself. I was so aroused I did, as she played, massaged and caressed my balls and helped me to stroke my own cock. We both played like this until I watched the long white streaks to splatter on my chest and stomach. And that was it. That was the moment I was hooked, not by a<b> woman wanting </font></b>me to fuck her, but wanting us both to experience what a climax was all about... |
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10/30/2018 5:31 pm |
Great story love mature women
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