mature xxx

Another foot beat down on the black machine. Diana Tate held her head high as she ran on her treadmill, sweat trickling down her brow as she pumped calorie after calorie out of her system. As the years passed and her age grew in number, it became important to her to keep her figure trim and healthy. Not that there was anyone else around to notice. Stewart, her ex-husband, had left her for a much younger woman years ago. Now she was a 57-year-old divorcee, but a 57-year-old divorcee with a killer figure.

Outside, the summer sun beat down on the neighborhood, seeming to highlight the young boy mowing lawns. He had turned nineteen this summer, an event that not many had remembered. Since Diana had lived next to Dean’s family for the last twenty years, and had celebrated the young man’s birth with his parents, she had sent a card and twenty dollars for him to spend. She had received no thank you. (more…)

As I walked through the enormous bay door of the shop, the familiar smells of grease and paint filled my head. Something about cars always made my blood rush. The air was thick with the smell of oil and tires. Instantly my mind was fixed on him. As I scanned the room cluttered with cars and tools, HE was nowhere to be seen. I could hear the sound of wrenches over the techno tunes blaring from the radio. I followed the clicking of the ratchet and the glare of the drop light to a sporty little number at the back of the shop. Quietly I stepped over power cables and extension cords until I found what I was looking for, my man.

The muffled sound of his curses at the “piece of shit” made me giggle. His long, slender body was half buried under the frame of the car. The creeper swayed back and forth as he flexed his legs to get deeper under the car’s belly, and I instantly got wet. (more…)

Billy was on his hands and knees pulling weeds at the edge of the grass. He was right along the property line between his house and the Collins’ house. Then he heard a car coming up the street. Turning, he looked up to see his neighbor, Martha Collins’ cool, little sports car warbling up the street.

Martha was hot, he thought. And now she would be stopping only a few feet from where he was working on his hands and knees. Maybe I’ll get a shot of her legs when she gets out of the car. Why, I might even see some panty, if she’s wearing any. Just thinking about her not wearing any panties gave him a tingly feeling down in his cock.

He knew that all the guys on the block thought she was a real hottie. Especially for her age. (more…)

Tushar could recollect every moment of that evening. In fact, that’s exactly what he had done during the last couple of months. He had fought against the desire but in the end it had been too much to bear and he had taken the flight to Delhi. He didn’t know whether she would agree or whether it was right to do this. They were such a nice couple…decent and courteous. They were neighbours of his son and daughter-in-law. He guessed, they were of the same age too. A caring husband with a good career, a lovely kid and a nice home…she had everything a woman could ask for. Why will she be interested in him…a old man in his sixties. Whenever he was in Delhi they would come over and meet him. In fact, Rupa came over to his son’s place almost everyday and would always make it a point to include him in their chat. At times her husband, Sunny, would also drop in. It had looked so hopeless so ridiculous, but…

…the animal in him was relentless in its pursuit. No matter how much he tried, it was useless. That evening was still vivid in his mind. The way she had walked into the apartment. She looked stunning in her black long skirt and white top. The more he looked at her the more fascinated he became. She was tall, slim and long legged. (more…)

GOVERNOR: Until I met Katie, I thought I was a happy and contented man. After all, I had everything I thought I had ever wanted. I grew up in a lower middle class family in the Midwest and went to an Ivy League university on a basketball scholarship. At 6′4, I was a fairly good athlete, but I knew not good enough to go professional. After getting my BA, I actually lucked out by joining ranks with a fellow student in forming a telecom company which turned out to be a raging success. We were in the right place at the right time and I was a millionaire before I was 30.

I didn’t think of myself as particularly good looking until I met Katie. I am in great shape without an ounce of fat, but have a very toothy big smile which many girls have termed “geeky.” I wasn’t really a ladies man in high school or college, but did get laid enough to keep me reasonably satisfied. I am blessed (or I used to think cursed) with one of the biggest cocks in the world. It is very thick and measures 13 inches hard and nearly 9 soft. (more…)

Everyone has heard the stories, right? Pretty college coed trades sex for a good grade in a course? I’d always been too professional and self-righteous to take advantage of the poor young girls who had propositioned me. I knew it was unethical, and that was enough. Besides, what if I got one of them pregnant? What if somebody saw us? What if I caught something? Too much could go wrong. It just wasn’t worth the risk - to my marriage or to my career. Most importantly, to my sense of who I was. I was BETTER than that!

Brad, a colleague of mine from another department, had a well-deserved reputation for seducing girls in his classes. I’d overheard him talking about it to several intrigued male colleagues. “Look, they’re whores, right? Only instead of money or jewelry they’re asking for something else of value. It’s usually a good grade in my class, but sometimes they also want to get laid by somebody who knows what he’s doing. So once they make the offer, everything’s on the table. They’ll trade their bodies for what they want. And if they think the grade is worth enough, they’ll put out. Hell, I never get less than a whole night, and usually the deal is for a whole lot more! I haven’t settled for a tit-flash or a pussy-fingering or a blowjob in more than ten years! (more…)

Ok. Let’s write this down. I need to find out what I’m feeling. And the only way to do that is to spill my thoughts out onto paper. Sometimes it’s a messy business. I can do a lot of spilling.

Come on Betty, use that analytical brain of yours. Articulate. Organize. Stop crying. Control yourself. Ah, there’s the fucking rub. Control. The one time I relinquish control I have the best might of my life. And the worst. And a hundred other fucking superlatives jump and climb all over me like a pack of crazed monkeys. .

I know myself pretty well, but, of course, you, Ms imaginary reader, don’t know me at all. So who am I? Well, I’m married. I have a daughter. Oh, I forgot. I have two. I’m forty. I never lie about my age. I’m proud of being forty.
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Great Great Granddad had settled in this forsaken spot in 1849. The saucer shaped valley with its poisonous springs had not attracted any other settlers, but the grand old man; a salt miner from Russia, had recognised the signs. He had begun a small salt mine and had exported salt lick block down to Texas before it was Texas.

The family had prospered and until my father went to war, the dynasty was secure. I was the only issue of a young marriage, mother was a wan widow. All my uncles and aunts had moved to Frisco, they had all died in road accidents, or other accidents, one was murdered. There were no cousins. Granddad always cursed when he heard mention of that fair city.

I was his great hope for the future and he had spared nothing in my education. He had personally taken me to the best brothel in the valley when I had shown my first sign of wet dreams. He had coached me through high school and sent me to the best college. I was now a fully qualified mine engineer and metallurgist. I was 23 fit and dedicated to continue the family line and business. (more…)

She had been my best friend, my companion, my wife and bar none the best lover I had ever had. We had been together for over 30 years, wonderful years, except for the last one when cancer was slowly and inexorably consuming her once marvelous body. Now she was gone.

After the funeral we gathered at her sister’s house, friends, family, business acquaintances. I smiled as best I could, was friendly and cordial as I knew she would want me to be and accepted their kind thoughts and condolences graciously. As the gathering began to ungather I was approached by my wife’s best friend, Edwina.

“Tough day, John,” she said.

“One of the worst. But I’ll survive.”

“I know you will. Life goes on.”

“Thanks for coming,” I said.

“When you feel up to it I want you to come to my house for dinner. Marge and I had some long talks during her last days and I’d like to tell you about them, when you’re ready,” she said. (more…)

Well this started years ago when I was in Nashville on a business trip for the machining company I worked for, I learn quickly and at the age of 21 I was calling on customers for the company, this was not my thinking when I got into the machining business.

I was there for a week and visited the same bar each night because of the food and the music, being a musician myself, on Thursday evening I was seated in a booth in a corner eating their fried fish and fries, (being from the country I loved fried fish) I was listening to this great little band play as they were there Thursday through Saturday night, enjoying the food and music I look up and see this beautiful redheaded lady walking toward me, (she was one of those ladies you lose your sense of being when you see her) she had dark red hair that hung just at her shoulders, hazel eyes that speak to you as they sparkle, and a body to die for.

I finally come to my senses as she was speaking loudly to me, she asked me for the 3rd or 4th time if I was alone I finally swallowed hard and said “yes” she then asked me if she could sit with me, no one else was yet in the bar, what could I say…but. (more…)

I have always had a fetish for older women well educated, mentally as well as physically stimulating. This is a true story. I was raised by a single well-educated women maybe that is where this fetish started having always had the inside scoop on what women really want & need. My mother had a beautiful three-story house, which typically had a party going on if the weather was agreeable. The house was a three story with three decks an in ground pool and an incredible view of the entire city we lived at the top of the hill. It just so happened that, I was an 18yrs old 6ft blonde long hair blue eye, well built & my mother was having a party in August.

I was the ever respectable & helpful son accepting all my mothers’ friends & cohorts in business into the house. I would help those who had cars filled with food or whatever they brought. The whole time being exposed & introduced to these people as Beverly’s son. When a stranger came upon the house my mother introduced us both & the young lady Liz was maybe 35 years old & looked like a gypsy queen. She made comment in front of my mother that; I looked like a nice young boy. She made comment that, I was and not to make the mistake of calling me a young boy or she would get more then she bargained for. With a smile mom then walked away leaving me to assist Liz. (more…)

All the lights in the room were dark and Christine was sitting at the table waiting for her husband to come home. It was after midnight and she had a class to teach at eight in the morning. She was hoping with dread bundled in her stomach that he was just doing overtime and not out drinking. It seems like a cliche, but he sometimes came home drunk as skunk and he could get aggressive. His drunk fists were like meat cleavers coming dangerously close and at times contacting with her. It was always her body and not her face. He was a good man, when he was sober, a great man. He once refused to kill a spider she found in the bathroom and carried it outside with his bare hands. At church he always talks to others about how humanity would do better if more people found God, like he did. The door knob turned and Christine stiffened. She could tell he was drunk, by how he opened the door. He flung it open, letting it smash with a loud bang against the wall. The whole apartment shook. She was encapsulated in fear, she wanted to let out a moan and call for her mother. Tears were already streaming, somewhere deep, she felt some sort of anger, but not enough.

He gave her a beastly look, with his blood shot eyes and red lobster face. “Why you still up?”

Christine was reduced to stuttering like a little child, “I -I was wor-worried.” (more…)

Let’s see, I graduated high school in April of 1964, if I remember correctly. April of 1999 was my thirty fifth high school reunion. Had it really been that long? It didn’t feel like it but then again my memory ain’t what it used to be, to put it mildly. Since I had never made it to any of the other reunions, why should this one be any different? A phone call from my past was the answer to that one.

Sandy and I had dated in high school and afterwards, even though she went on to college and I went to work full time. The college was only about ninety miles away, so we saw each other most weekends and almost all holidays. The summers were the greatest and we were making plans for the rest of our lives, right down to the number of kids we wanted and where we would live. (more…)

I pull my car into the trailhead parking lot. Great, not another car here, I think, as I pull to a shady spot and turn off the ignition. This is a popular spot on the weekends because it is a perfect two day hike into the pools and creek area that the locals call the ’shut-in’. I have a week off and decided to take a couple of days to enjoy the beautiful spring weather. It has been a mild winter, but it always felt good to get out for the first hike of the spring. I get out of the car and pop the trunk open. I reach down and lift out my backpack. The temperature is such that I won’t need the light jacket I am wearing, so I take it off and stuffed it in my pack. The pack isn’t very heavy, since this was just a two day hike. I slip the pack onto my shoulders, make sure the car is locked, and slip the keys into my pocket. (more…)