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Thirty-four year old Kerry’s hands were shaking as she drove through the city towards central park and the twenty year old man she was meeting on this Wednesday night. For the past two months Kerry and Greg had been chatting online, interaction that had blossomed and devolved into phone conversation while Kerry’s husband was out, and now they were to meet for the first time, the passion for each other which had birthed from the first time they had met in the chat room now uncontrollable, and not even the fact that Kerry had been married for three years and had a young son would stop them from meeting.

Greg, who was trying not to admit to himself that he had fallen for this married woman, was sitting anxiously on a bench at the war memorial in the centre of town, waiting for Kerry who was going to pick him up so that they could go somewhere more private for their first meeting.

It had seemed like a lifetime since they had first met in the chat rooms, and what had started as simple innocent friendship had developed into a feeling both never imagined they could have for someone who differed in age so much. The first time they had engaged in cyber sex Kerry had felt guilty, thinking of her husband and what he would think if he ever found out, but the excitement of the event had taken over, and making love on the net had become a regular Read the rest of mature sex post »

Karen and I accidentally met at the Sweet 16 playoffs. An extraordinary thing happened and my hometown team got to this level by beating Notre Dame. A wild 4th quarter game. Then overtime came!

Nevertheless, we advanced by a pure luck shot with 12 seconds remaining and here we are. Everyone’s hyped up including me and this woman behind me. A sexy beautiful, bountifully shaped woman.

Wearing a Tee that endorsed her cleavage, it’s always in my nature to first take a gander at that. This time as with several others, I didn’t due to my work and trying to break myself of this habit.

I kept on getting pushed back into her. I’d turn my head at her and apologize. “Sorry, sorry about that. It’s just that I keep getting pushed” and all she would do is smile at me and say, “Oh that’s okay dear, I understand.”

In reality, I was being shoved right into her massively sexy boobs. She seemed to enjoy the attention. Hell, I was more then glad after the third time to give that to her. All she would say, again and again is “that’s okay”.
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The skinny old man with a droopy moustache came into the dark bedroom. Parking his walking frame, 78-year-old Albert Fish slipped between the sheets snuggled up against the wool nightdress of Maggie.

“I love you Maggie,” he wheezed.

“You stupid Casanova,” grumbled Maud Macdonald (83). “Maggie’s in the next room, but you may as well stay here now. What do you have in mind?”

“A fuck.”

“What’s that?”

Albert explained and finally Maud’s memory triggered and she realized what he was talking about. That made her excited. She’d had her last one around forty or forty-two years ago shortly before liquored-up husband Roy was killed crossing a railway track in front of a train that apparently he’d not realized was moving.

She turned on the light and they both struggled to kick down the top sheet and light blanket.

“I’ll need to be soaped up or something – I’m very dry these days, Albert darling.”

“Soap – I’ve got 21st Century stuff,” said Albert, pointing to a liter bottle of lube he’d placed on the dressing table. This should be enough.”

“Then lube me, Albert,” cackled Maud.

“Which is the right crack?” asked Albert, peering between her wrinkly legs.

“Probably the most central one, but does it matter? Just slosh it around and get a finger working; fingers know where to go.”

It was slow going. Thirty minutes later Albert had Maud huffing and puffing. Finally she went ‘Zizzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.”

“Did you cum?”

“Wouldn’t have a clue, but I feel as if I’m sitting on a cloud.”

“That’s either a genuine ejaculation or you’re deceived your mind into thinking you’ve had one, which is called a phantom ejaculation. I reckon it doesn’t really matter at your age which type it is because we’re not trying to conceive.”

“Conceive what?”

“Children.”

“Oh, how many?”

“I’ll try to give you as many as you want, Maud – but no promises,” leered Albert.

Maud felt something pressing into her bony thigh and reached for it. Read the rest of xxx mature ass »

Serena and I rushed down Highway 168 heading away from Norfolk toward Nags Head, North Carolina. Normally we would be working for a late afternoon photo shoot, but there were rainstorms in the area and we expected it to start raining sometime about midmorning, so instead, we went for an early morning shoot. I had picked Serena up at her motel and was explaining to her where we were headed.

“You remember hearing about the Wright Brothers?”

“Oh yeah, you mean like Mario and Luigi?”

“Mario and Luigi? Are you kidding me?” I asked, then seeing the smile on her face I knew she was kidding.

“Of course I know about the Wright Brothers, the first to fly a heavier than air airplane.”

“You never really know with you youngsters these days, I bet if I go to a mall anywhere, and ask that question I’d get plenty of answers like ‘Mario and Luigi’.”

“Okay, yeah you’re probably right, but who are you calling a youngster? I’m every bit of twenty years old.”

“Twenty, really?”

“Well, I will be next week on my birthday, but hey you’re not that old.”
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Sometimes I wake up at night and I can still feel her mouth on me. I wrap my arms around myself and ache to feel her body on mine, lick my fingers and wish I could taste her salty skin, find my hands inside my shorts and fool myself for just a minute that it is her hands on me, making me moan. Still, this is not nearly as difficult as being in her presence. To admire her, watching her move, studying every curve and remembering how my hands explored, no, loved every one of them. To talk with her, not hearing the sounds she makes, only seeing the shapes that form as they exit her lips, knowing how wonderful it felt to be inside her mouth. I try not to touch her; I think we have maybe shook hands once since it happened and nothing more. I do not think I am in love with her. I try to talk myself into believing it is mere infatuation. Besides, it does not matter anyway. I can never again have this woman I so desire, you see, she is my father’s wife.

It happened two years ago, the weekend of my baby sisters wedding. A three-hour drive for me, I had planned on taking the Friday before the big day off as to arrive early in the afternoon, giving myself enough time to get settled before the rehearsal and dinner. A good nights sleep was important to me because as a groomsman, all of the guys in the wedding party, including the fathers, were getting up early Saturday morning for a round of golf before donning our tuxes and heading to the chapel. I had planned on staying at a hotel but my father insisted I stay with him in the house he shared with his wife. Read the rest of mature anal »

This story takes place in the summer of my 19th year. I had returned to my hometown after an accident which had left me hospitalized for two months. Upon returning I needed to determine a direction for my life. I had enlisted in the army and was awaiting my active duty date in late 1969 when the accident happened. The damage to my body was sufficient to cancel my enlistment and give me a get home free pass from Uncle Sam’s party in Viet Nam. While many of my friends had suffered as a result of that war, I was not sorry that I did not have to go.

So here I was, back in town and not sure of what to do with myself, the band that I had been in before I left for the Army was still together and upon contacting them I was welcomed back with open arms. We were all around the same age and single so we decided to rent a house together so that we could devote much time to practice and recording. Earlier that year before my enlistment, one of the members of the band arranged for his mother who was a tailor to make some show jackets for us. I had never met the lady before and so I was amazed to see this petite woman of 37 (at the time) and pleased at the same time. We had to go to his parent’s house to be measured and then fitted for the jackets. Each time I went for a fitting, his mother would be very pleasant to me and offer me a soft drink, the last fitting took the longest as she kept fussing with seams and re-sewing things as I watched and waited for the “try this on now” that came after every adjustment.
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The skinny old man with a droopy moustache came into the dark bedroom. Parking his walking frame, 78-year-old Albert Fish slipped between the sheets snuggled up against the wool nightdress of Maggie.

“I love you Maggie,” he wheezed.

“You stupid Casanova,” grumbled Maud Macdonald (83). “Maggie’s in the next room, but you may as well stay here now. What do you have in mind?”

“A fuck.”

“What’s that?”

Albert explained and finally Maud’s memory triggered and she realized what he was talking about. That made her excited. She’d had her last one around forty or forty-two years ago shortly before liquored-up husband Roy was killed crossing a railway track in front of a train that apparently he’d not realized was moving.

She turned on the light and they both struggled to kick down the top sheet and light blanket.

“I’ll need to be soaped up or something – I’m very dry these days, Albert darling.”

“Soap – I’ve got 21st Century stuff,” said Albert, pointing to a liter bottle of lube he’d placed on the dressing table. This should be enough.” Read the rest of sex free mature tits ass cunt »

Serena and I rushed down Highway 168 heading away from Norfolk toward Nags Head, North Carolina. Normally we would be working for a late afternoon photo shoot, but there were rainstorms in the area and we expected it to start raining sometime about midmorning, so instead, we went for an early morning shoot. I had picked Serena up at her motel and was explaining to her where we were headed.

“You remember hearing about the Wright Brothers?”

“Oh yeah, you mean like Mario and Luigi?”

“Mario and Luigi? Are you kidding me?” I asked, then seeing the smile on her face I knew she was kidding.

“Of course I know about the Wright Brothers, the first to fly a heavier than air airplane.”

“You never really know with you youngsters these days, I bet if I go to a mall anywhere, and ask that question I’d get plenty of answers like ‘Mario and Luigi’.”

“Okay, yeah you’re probably right, but who are you calling a youngster? I’m every bit of twenty years old.”

“Twenty, really?”

“Well, I will be next week on my birthday, but hey you’re not that old.”
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It had been planned for a long time. The ultimate 18-day holiday in the sun. Just me and my partner on a small island in the outer reaches of the Bahamas, the Abaco Islands.

Everything about it was great. From the long haul flight from London to Miami, a night at a great hotel there with a fabulous Italian meal and the small plane which took us to Treasure Cay from where we got a boat to our Island, Green Turtle Cay.

On arrival we were met with a stretch golf cart to take the bags and us to our suite. The suites were fantastic, a huge room with a full kitchen and lounge. Best of all no TV and no ‘phone.

This was going to be fabulous.

Pretty soon we realised that we were a little different from the normal clientele. We had booked for 16 days on this island and most of our co-guests were only there for two or three nights, island hopping and then moving on.

The majority of the guests were American and we were no strangers to them having been in the US on many occasions.

We enjoyed the small town, went on boat trips and swam with dolphins. Beach parties and get togethers were impromptu and great fun. The other guests were mostly couples and after a week or so we got used to meeting with people for pre-dinner drinks on the shared balconies of the suite, listening to the surf roll in over the coral.

It was the perfect situation as no sooner had we got to know some of them than they moved on, sometimes sharing e-mail addresses for the future, sometimes not.
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Martine Duncan has been our friend for many years, and talks with my wife at least a few times a week. So far as I know they share everything. Martine is a very attractive Blonde who is smart, has a warm disposition, and is fun to be with. She also is hospitable and very kind. Her husband Melvin runs a very successful medical supply house. He on the other hand is aggressive, and is motivated by three factors. His business, investments, and Golf. He is verbally abusive to Martine, and from what my wife had told me may have been physically abusive too. Under other circumstances and had there not been such a close relationship between Martine and my wife I am sure that I would have been very much attracted to Martine. Perhaps I even may have had ideas about trying to establish a relationship with her. This was because she had always been extremely warm to me personally, and more than I would have expected from our social contact alone. But nothing progressed further than idle and pleasurable speculation on my part.

Not long ago there was a conference in Palm Springs which I was planning to attend. When Martine heard from my wife that we were going to be there she insisted that we stay with them at their home. In the past we had successfully avoided their repeated invitations because of our dislike of Melvin, but this time we had no excuse to refuse the invitation. Read the rest of free solo mature black porn »