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Dani and I lay on the bed in a sweaty post-fuck heap. Her hair was matted around her beautiful face. My heart rate was just beginning to return to normal. She turned on her side and looked at me.

“Wow! That was amaaaaazing!” She smiled sweetly at me as I leaned in for a soft kiss.

“I second that emotion.” Five minutes ago we’d been having hardcore sex. Now she looked like an innocent college student. Well, she was a graduate college student, but she was hardly innocent.

“So what time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Five pm,” I replied. I could see her mental calculator working as she furrowed her brow.

“That means you don’t have to leave Boulder til one tomorrow afternoon. Which means we have thirteen and a half hours left for…….sex. You’re gonna be one sore dude when you get on that plane tomorrow.” She giggled.

“God I hope so.” Her giggle was so innocent, but so sexy. I could listen to it all day.

“You are hereby a captive until released. The bathroom is there, the kitchen is over there…” She pointed dramatically around her small studio apartment.

“The bed is here, of course, and this is where you will be held until further notice. Of course, I might release you long enough to fuck me on the floor or on the counter.” She giggled again. Damn. She leaned in for another kiss, this one a bit more wet and willful than the last. She was a fantastic kisser. Her lips were so soft and pliant and her tongue was constantly probing for mine. And best of all I could tell she really wanted to kiss me. Read the rest of mature white wives fucking black dicks »

I had been enamored of Danielle, or Dani as everyone called her, since she had been in high school. She was a young beauty –I will describe her in detail in a minute – who had always run with my son’s crowd. I, obviously, was old enough to be her father. She dated my son for a brief time, but seemed to play the field through her high school years as the young seem to do these days. She interned her junior year in my graphic design firm and seemed to have an affinity and flare for design. It had been a treat having her physical presence around the office and it was wonderful way to get to know her better. She was a pleasure to look at and a warm and friendly person to boot.

After graduation I would occasionally hear from or about her. She completed college and when she was applying to the master’s program in graphic design at Colorado University, she e-mailed me and asked me for a recommendation letter, which I happily supplied. She wrote back some time later thanking me for my letter and sharing the news that she had been accepted into the program and would be starting in the fall. She also mentioned letting her know if I was ever in the area.

It was a year or so later that I found myself traveling to Denver for a conference and the thought occurred to me that I should check in on Dani and see how she was doing. I had played somewhat of a mentor role over the years and figured she might benefit from my wisdom and experience. Or so I told myself. Truthfully, the thought of spending even a brief time with this beautiful creature certainly had some bearing on my decision to contact her. Read the rest of stockings hardcore mature free »

At first, she was just a customer in the store, albeit a pretty one. Blonde, blue eyed, with a curvy body, she projected an attractive aura, and her youthful flirtiness just added to her charm. He was only a couple years out of college, an assistant manager, someone who handled both the difficult and special customers. He earned a good reputation with customers, his combination of boyish enthusiasm, surprising knowledge, and attention to their needs contributing to building a loyal customer base. He was usually swarmed with customers, asking his advice, listening to one of dozens of stories he’d accumulated in his short adult life, or watching him help someone else.

She was not an exception and soon she started asking for him by name. He found himself looking forward to her visits, almost always preceded by a cell phone call to make sure he was there. As a customer, she did buy things, she was reasonable, and brought her friends to shop as well. Then, one day, in the middle of the summer, she sort of disappeared.

An odd call came in that fall, someone calling on her behalf, telling him that she’d been seriously injured and that she was in a hospital. Then nothing. He tried to call her, but there was no answer. Worried, he tried the cell phone. Nothing, just her pleasant voicemail. Well, he thought, I wonder if something really bad happened. He didn’t know if he should call the hospital. Don’t be ridiculous, he thought, you barely know her. Finally, he did, nervously, but he couldn’t even learn if she’d even been there. Read the rest of mature big breast memories tit porn »

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when I slid back the hatch cover and climbed up the short stairs to the deck of the Jenny Green. I had new clients coming on board at ten, and wanted to make sure everything was in order. Brandy had already cleaned the cabins, changed the sheets on the beds, and stocked up the galley. All that remained was to check the sails, rigging, and engine. After that, I’d make the short trip over to Fred’s to top off her water and fuel tanks, and get a couple extra quarts of oil.

The Jenny Green is fifty feet of grace sculpted in fiberglass and teak. She’s rigged to sail single-handed in a pinch, so the inexperience of my clients isn’t really a factor. She’s big enough to have two staterooms and captain’s and mate’s quarters, and carries a small galley with seating for six if they’re friendly. I can weather almost any wind that may blow up, but usually that isn’t a problem. The seas around Miami are pretty predictable except during hurricane season. When that time of year rolls around, I put her on her cradle and do my repairs.

One of the best parts of my job is the people who sail on my cruises. I get a feel for clients during phone calls and correspondence about the trip, and then, when I see them, I get to check out the picture I’ve put together. Sometimes, my hunches are on the money; sometimes, I’m so far off the mark it’s embarrassing. Wanda Sanders and Marilyn Beech are an example of the latter.
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By consensus, I am a horrible person. Almost three months ago my wife of 30 years died unexpectedly but after a long illness that severely limited her mobility. I was her caregiver for many years. She liked cruises, so five months ago, we booked a seven-day, non-refundable cruise to Alaska. I decided to still go on the cruise and to go with another woman. My children and relatives are appalled. To make matters worse, the only available woman that I knew to ask is a stripper from my local bar. Judgment has been rendered, I am an uncaring, callous man. All that said, let me tell you all about my trip.

About a week ago, right before six p.m. shift change, I called Carrie over and said, “I have a seven day cruise to Alaska booked for the fourteenth of next month and I would like you to go on that cruise with me. I know this is short notice. I don’t need your decision today. Think about it for a few days. If you are at least curious, let’s go for coffee next week and talk it all over.”

Carrie is soft spoken, about forty, a little over five feet tall, has a beautiful body, has big auburn colored hair and can light up a room with her smile. Her look said she was at surprised and happy to be asked. I liked that. She was twenty years younger than me, but she had not relegated me to the “foolish old man” category and shot me down. We decided to meet at the closest restaurant, Tuesday, seven p.m.

I had only known Carrie for six months and only as an occasional table dance customer. We had many conversations on slow nights. I discovered, she is not much of a drinker, is not a drug user, will talk about her life, is the provider for her three daughters, likes being touched and kissed, has a cute little girl giggle and occasionally has a look that promises naughty things to come. Her body always seems slightly oiled, she is very clean and warm, she kisses easily and her pussy taste good. I sense that her body appreciates a strong hand. Read the rest of mature women looking for sex with younger men »

I was surprised to find that a full week after I seduced, shaved, and fucked Rita Clay I was still very interested in her. She was different from the women I usually took to my bed. Maybe it was the fact that she was old enough to be my mother. Maybe I just loathed her scumbag husband so much that screwing his sexy wife added that additional spice. Or maybe it was Rita herself, who was absolutely delicious in the sack and merited much additional study.

A week later and I was lying in bed when the phone rang. I leaned over and answered it and heard Rita’s excited voice say, “He’s gone, he left on his trip. Do you still want to go?”

“Of course,” I said. “I made the reservations yesterday. Do you still want to go?”

“Oh, darling, yes, I can’t wait. What time should we meet?”

Before I could answer the girl sucking my cock leaned up and said, “Do you want me to stop?”

I covered the receiver and said, “Keep sucking until I tell you to stop.”

I said to Rita, “I’ll pick you up around 6, is that OK?”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful. You’ll love what I’m wearing…”

“I know I will. I’ll see you soon. I can hardly wait.” We said our goodbyes and I hung up.

The girl, whose name was Danielle, let my cock slip from her lips. “You have a date tonight?”

“Yes,” I sighed. Read the rest of mature women small breas »

Ten minutes after I lost my virginity I made a very important life-decision-I was going to devote my life to getting laid. I was going to take the steps needed to insure that when I wanted sex, I could get it. I wasn’t going to end up like the losers I knew in high school who pined after girls and jerked off to Playboy. I was gonna be the guy who READS Playboy.

I’m not just bragging when I say that I’m a very attractive man. I’ve worked my ass off to get this way. I have some natural gifts-I’m six-three, blond, blue eyes, and I’m good-looking enough that I did some modeling in college. I’m not muscle-bound I’m quite fit. I work out and swim a lot and I have a black belt in tae kwon do, which comes in handy from time to time. I look good enough in a bathing suit that when I’m lying by the pool sunning myself just about every woman between the ages of 12 to 80 checks me out.

I busted my ass in school and made the grades and connections you need to move up in the world. I have a great job that pays enough to let me live in the kind of style that women expect from a stud. When a woman agrees to go out with me she always finds me in a custom-made suit, driving a late-model Mercedes, with reservations at the best restaurants in town.

It all comes with a price, of course, but women have the coin that spends with me.
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It had never been innocent. He tried to convince himself that it had all started out so innocently, in the beginning anyway. But it had been this way from the start. And now, in such a relatively short period of time, he was sitting in his living room, packaging up a very special gift for a girl he had never seen before.

In his hands was a box, and in the box was a brand new seven inch vibrator. It was no Hitachi Magic Wand, but it had the proper shape, and it performed the proper function. He had checked it thoroughly the night before. He had removed the tacky packaging and the smelly plastic and had replaced the cheap foreign batteries with brand-names. It was perfect. He excitedly hoped Louise would like it.

Then he took a second to think about the fact that he was 28, and she was only 18, and just barely. He sighed.

No, it had never been innocent.

Max and Louise had met two years ago. Max, in a fit of boredom, had looked up random names on America Online through its member directory. He looked up all sorts of words: “implants”, “g string”, “anal”, and many others in a similar vein. But his favorite, by far, was “thong”, and for two reasons. First was that he loved thongs, and indeed had a deep fetish for all lingerie (on women, that is, not for himself), and second was that the type of person who would have a thong in her profile would usually, for some strange reason, be quite an interesting person to talk to. Read the rest of mature married lady east midlands »

About two weeks after my sensuous and successful aptitude test with ‘Manon’, the company which provided discreet escorts for ladies. I was

contacted by Ron Vincent, who told me to call at the office the following evening as he had my first client.

I had already spent some time with Ron, getting a few pointers on what would be expected of me.

He also had me fitted out with a couple of outfits, a smart dark blue suit and a more casual jacket and pants, with shirts to match.

He had also taken me to the small, neat apartment where we could entertain the ladies when necessary. And I was given a key.

“Dress for whatever circumstance,” Ron advised, his chubby cheeks glowing as usual. He was a real enthusiast about the service he provided.

“Mind you,” he warned. “It won’t always be sex. Some of our ladies just want companionship. And many are cautious about letting us know what their needs are. So you have to play it by ear sometimes.”

So that evening I arrived at Ron’s office and was told I’d need the suit. “The lady’s name is Dawn— Dawn Soreen and you will be meeting her at the Vichois Restaurant.” Read the rest of mature sex blowjob anal »

This is a secret I have kept to myself for years, about what my stepmother Teresa did one summer morning. Now, I think it’s time I made all privy to this strange and lurid tale; the account of “Your Mum, Your Mum!”

Some months after the incident of “Teresa’s Torture” [which will be in another story] when I was 18, it happened. Firstly, I heard some of the local 18 to 19 year olds talking about Mum and her secret porno film! Obviously the film had gotten out to certain local thugs, after Mum had made it with the gangsters, whoring herself to save us. The teenagers obviously knew them. That was obviously how they got to see it, and recognised MY MUM, that apparently prim and proper, middle class housewife they knew, from down the road!

A copy of a video titled “Teresa’s Torture” was put in our mailbox one day, addressed to Mum, with a note telling her who had seen it. It said that if she wanted them to keep quiet about it and not let it get around to people such as Dad’s bosses and colleagues, our friends and the neighbourhood too, they wanted something from her in return for their silence! At this time I hadn’t seen any of the film, and Mum grabbed it from me along with the note before I could examine the video. The note was from a group of youngsters in their late teens who hung around the area causing trouble, being largely unemployed but getting their income from petty crime.

I’d guessed it was some sort of sex film she’d done, even back then; but Mum said I shouldn’t ask about it, and pressed me to keep the note secret from Dad and everyone else. However, whenever she went shopping with me coming along to help too, we had to walk past the youths’ den , which was a small clearing in a slightly wooded piece of wasteland, on the bank of an old disused raiway down a lane. I had noticed before in recent months, that whenever we went past them there, Mum would get wolf whistles and muttered innuendo from them. Even the girls, who were attractive but cheeky, hard-boiled types. Read the rest of porn mature ladies »