when he's 64...

will it be a deliciously naughty time we have?

he suggested a night of culture, a play, concert, maybe an opera. could he educate me? at school they had taught me with the notes coloured in and ive never made the leap to grown up stuff. he offered to bring crayons with him when we met and laughed when i told him about not sticking to within the lines.

the bar was full of young, pasty faced boys and girls without a mark of character on their faces. he, on the other hand, was slightly crumpled, with a worldly wise glint in his eyes. he smelt wonderful, opoponax, he offered, from africa. mmmm.

i wore a scarlet corset over black and his eyes shone as they rested on my declotage.

we talked and drank and flirted. he, the aging lothario, me the playful cougar. well met.

its like we stepped outside society, swapped ideas on the perverse, divulged dark secrets. reality occasionally interrupted in the form of a delicious 20 something, waitress. i told her how attractive she looked and he asked if she would like to go to bed with us both. i think she would have but my needs come first.

we agreed to meet for breakfast the following day then kissed. you fuck my mouth with your tongue, are you as strong in bed? yes, i said.

10am and there he was, even more disheveled than the night before. he had gone from drinks with me to the bed of one of his girlfriends. the man is a legend.

age is irrelevant its experience that counts. he is very experienced with a mouth as filthy as a dockers. he knows the delights of pressure. touching me with a firm, assured hand. i was as wet as a wet thing. his fingers were slipping in and out before i could undress him. i sighed. he laughed and unzipped his flies.

the cock he released was massive. i was staring, it was enormous, damn i wasnt sure it would fit...i chortled as i told him i know understood why, at 64, he was so fucking cock-sure.

we fondled and sucked, fucked and caressed each other. he wanted to see my toys so i produced a pillowcase full, his turn to stare. well met, well matched; he was good, very good.

will i see him again? undoubtedly, we fell from the same tree, just a decade or 2 apart. when sex is that good who's counting...

kiev kink

was all i could think about. until last week i had no idea kiev was my sexual mecca; now i know.

the men were rugged, strong, manly, tall, thick of limb. every arse induced a clit tic. i had a hard on for four days, i was in heaven.

prolonging the before, building the anticipation, all part of the game.

you know the tricks, you love them; how i brush my hands across my breasts or accidentally flash bending over/down, painting my lips, cocksucker red. all of it to make you look at me and want me. except...

...you werent there. they were, he was. a random fuck. a furious rutting. he scratched the itch for a time.

the end began as he grabbed my arse in the lift. his hands cupped my cheeks, da? da, i was soaking.

i pushed back into his groin, he shoved a hand down my top. i squeaked. breathing stuttered as the air turned to sex. fuck. we tumbled out of the lift and tripped down the hall. fingers and tongues everywhere.

i came

he rubbered up.

his cock was stretching me before the room door was opened. the stretch was wonderful.

clothes, limbs, shoes, spunk, spit, mingled. screams, growls, slaps created a cacophony of lust.

i took a photo; sending you the mms, wish you were here...

i couldnt resist...

her lips.

she licked them so slowly but so often. i puddled at the softness of her breasts crushed into me as she threw her arms round me.

i couldnt resist so i kissed her...

beautiful boy, you know...

...my tongue cuts me when i cut you
would you, could you, tame this shrew?

it can be...

as simple as putting on lipstick.

i drag the colour across my mouth and feel your lips.

the memory catches me off guard and i want you all over again.

bendy...

ive always been a bendy girl. there seems to be elastic rather then bone in me.

at 18 i was having sex in the front seat of a mini. he was over 6 foot, im just under.

at 30-something i was embarrassing my sister-in-law by putting my big toes in my mouth.

now? now i see it for the gift it is and use it wisely...

the perfect gift...

you rowed with her, storming out of her room into mine.

we didnt fuck exactly, how could we. but now its later and sated we doze.

my heart rate slows as i match the sound of your breathing.

ive never let you stay and shouldnt now, bugger, how could i say no to my birthday gift.

your arm lays across my stomach. pressing into me, solid, heavy. are arms really that heavy.

i need a pee and my legs going numb still i dont move.

you caused the argument to justify this. she knows youre here. feinights

sleep is swirling round, tugging me away. you snuffle then mumble, happy birthday babe. then it/you fall away...