mature xxx

I had my first real sexual experience many years ago, at the age of 18. I wasn’t a complete virgin – if you count one 20 second fumbled stand-up shag with an equally inexperienced girl in the alley behind the youth club – but like most teenage males of the time most of my sexual encounters involved my right hand and Health and Efficiency magazine.

I had just finished a heavy week of exams at school, so I decided to unwind with a relaxing weekend walking in the hills of my native Yorkshire. It was a spur of the moment decision, and after a full day of hiking I found myself in the evening in a tiny village, a sort of one-horse town where the horse had died. There was only one place to stay, an ancient inn. When I asked about a bed for the night, the landlady told me she was sorry but they’d already let out their one room for the night. So I bought a half pint of shandy and slumped at a table trying to work out how the hell I was going to get to the next village, 20 miles away, at that time of night. (more…)

I was waiting in line at the theatre when I felt a tap on my shoulder and as I turned I was greeted by my favorite nephew.

“Hey how are you?” He asked giving me a big hug. I laughed and told him I was fine. Looking over his shoulder I saw you and gasped.

“What?” He said pulling back from me. I looked up at him trying to hide my surprise.

“Nothing I’m just happy to see you.” I said grinning at him.

“This is my friend Josh,” he said introducing us. You smiled at me and took my hand as if we had never met before. I looked down at our fingers enclosed in each others and felt my body begin to tingle all over. Slowly you let go of my hand and we walked towards the concession stand. As I ordered popcorn and a soda I watched and listened to the two of you bantering back and forth, smiling at the things you said to each other and drinking in the pleasure it gave me to have you so near. (more…)

I just turned 18 a few months earlier. I was a virgin and I had never had a girlfriend before. I wanted to have sexual experiences but I didn’t want to do anything stupid like hire a prostitute. I wasn’t bad looking I was just kind of a geek. I was 5′11″, 175 lbs, with black hair and brown eyes. I had just started college and was taking fencing as an elective. I also needed it for my theatre class because we would be putting on Hamlet in December. I was not an athletic person. I never played any sports in high school unless you count theatre as a sport. My muscles were tight after my first week of fencing. I got stiff necks and had trouble moving quickly without hurting. My instructor recommended getting a deep tissue massage to loosen my tight muscles.

I got back to my dorm and looked up massage therapists in the phone book but I didn’t have a car and none of the local therapists were in walking distance. The only other thing to do was to check out the school’s assets. The school’s health center didn’t offer that kind of service but the secretary suggested I talk to a professor who teaches a course in massaging. I went to talk to the instructor but the class was ending and the professor had already left. A few students remained talking in the class afterward. I saw a group of three older women talking, all of which were beautiful, one of which had a body to match her face. They were about 29 or 30. I asked the sexy one about the instructor. (more…)

I was standing near the baggage carousel waiting. Just waiting for a beautiful young girl I did not know. I ran the past year through my mind, the first e-mail I received from her, how she had responded to a story I had written in Literotica. How we had become friends over the anonymous airwaves and how we had reached this point. Terry. Terry. I kept repeating her name to myself maybe to reassure me that this was real, that she was really on that airplane.

I felt like an old fool having written to her and having responded to her many questions but she had answered each of mine with a sincerity that bonded me to her as genuine. She was 18, or so she had written, when we started corresponding. Her questions gave me pause as many were so naïve but I considered that her virginity had perhaps left her with many unanswered questions. She professed to be an exhibitionist and have a desire to be seen by older men, perhaps even her own father. She had sent me photos of her nude body and she was stunning. (more…)

When I was a lot younger, I moved to Texas with a friend. We made the long haul one night. I stayed there at his place and worked with him at the factory where he worked for a while. Later, I decided to try the big city life. So I made the venture to Dallas, TX. I found a job at a motel as a desk clerk.

It was a pretty seedy run down motel, and at night it was rather scary. I did meet some very interesting characters there, though. This is a story about one of those people. It was a fairly quiet night, and this older lady was checking in. She was nice looking and was in her in late 40’s or early 50’s.

She smiled brightly at me as I checked her in. She left and came back a little later. She asked me if I smoked weed? I said yeah, sometimes I would do it with my friends. She asked me what time I got off work, and I told her at 11 p.m. “You know my room number” she said to me. “Why don’t you come and see me when you get off work”. she added.

I told her “that sounded good”. At 11 I left the front desk and ventured towards her room. I knocked on the door and she told me to come on in. I entered her room. She was in the bathroom. “Can you roll a joint?” she asked. (more…)

When I was growing up in south Florida in the ’50s, I lived a privileged life. My family wasn’t really wealthy, but we were more than comfortable. We lived in a large, lovely home on a golf course. We were members of the exclusive country club in our area and traveled in all the right circles. From the time I was sixteen, I had my own car and was a member of the “in” clubs at my high school. I wanted for nothing, nothing that is except an exciting sex life.

I was good looking, best described as “cute”, but I wasn’t the school stud. As a sophomore in high school, I was 5′ 7″ tall and weighed a hulking 135 lbs. It wasn’t until my junior and senior years that I experienced a growth spurt which resulted in my attaining the lofty height of 5′ 10″. Nor was I the school jock. I was athletic, but my size mitigated against football stardom. I did play on the junior varsity team for awhile, but in a scrimmage against the varsity, I made the serious, and almost fatal, mistake of attempting to tackle the varsity fullback who weighed about sixteen tons. At least, that’s what it felt like when he flattened me like a steamroller. After my recovery from unconsciousness, a fractured jaw and several broken teeth, I joined the golf team and had a very successful high school athletic career as an orthopedically sound, if not champion, golfer.

My sex life, like that of most teenagers in the ’50s, was woefully inadequate. I had plenty of dates and my fair share of girlfriends. I even got laid once by one of the girls on the “Easy” list. It was a quick, exciting, wet, sloppy, frantic and not altogether fulfilling experience. The rest of my sexual experiences with members of the feminine gender generally consisted of furtive groping in the back seats of darkened automobiles. I remember many fondled breasts, wet fingers, blue balls and cold showers. Other than that, my sexual satisfaction was provided by “Mother Palm and Her Five Lovely Daughters”. I definitely was not an accomplished lover, that is, until after my experiences with Evelyn! (more…)

I was a rookie, fresh from the academy, patrolling the mall parking lot on my first afternoon tour. The winter air was crisp and dry and I watched as dozens of shoppers parked and walked to the stores to exchange the Christmas gift that didn’t fit or to take advantage of the January clearance sales. I rode up and down the aisles and, seeing no problems, began to work my way to the western exit that would take me to the highway and, ultimately, to the diner for dinner.

Driving down the final row of cars I saw her. She was frantically waving me down. Something was wrong. According to procedure, I called in the license plate number of her car and got out of my vehicle. She ran up to me, “Oh, officer, I need your help. I accidentally locked my keys in the car and my baby is in the back seat.” I looked her over. She was about 21 years old, a few years younger than me. She had that wholesome kind of farm girl look. You know, well scrubbed with little make-up. She was wearing winter clothes so it was kind of hard to see her body. But, nothing could hide the fact that she was well-developed on top. I went around to the side of the car and looked in to see a six month old infant in her car seat on the back seat of the 1966 gold Ford.

I told the mother to remain calm and I would have the car open in short order. We had a tool specifically for these circumstances and I went to my car to retrieve it. Within a couple of minutes, the lock was popped and mother and daughter were reunited. I checked the mother’s identification documents and headed back to my patrol vehicle with the good feelings of a job well done. The mother, Nicki, was positively effusive with thanks. She insisted that she wanted to do something special to thank me for rescuing her and her child. (more…)

I hardly recognised him when I saw him. I had been idly sitting on a bench along the river path about halfway through my daily walk when a guy came strolling along dressed in a business suit, which is unusual along the path where casual clothing is the norm.

It is customary for people to greet each other, even strangers, along the river path so I glanced up and said, “Hi.”

It was he who recognised me first. He returned my greeting and then stopped in his tracks. “Tony?” he asked uncertainly. I looked up at him puzzled that he knew my name, and then I recognised him. “Adrian!” I exclaimed.

It had been twenty years since I had last seen him. Back in those days he had been a bright eyed mischievous looking fellow, friendly and full of fun. Now he was plumper and balding, but he still had that impish look about him.

We shook hands and went into those effusive lines people adopt when they haven’t met for a long time; “After all these years,” “You haven’t changed all that much,” “What have you been doing?” “I’m over here on a business trip,” and so on.

I said, “This calls for a bit of a celebration, let’s go to the Star and Bear and have a drink if you’ve got the time.”

“Sure,” he said, “I’ve finished what I came here to do and I’m just filling in time until my flight.” (more…)

She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Her heart pounded in her chest as she listened to the captain make his descent announcements. Enjoy the beautiful state, enjoy the weather, fly Delta Airlines again and remember that this was the friendly captain speaking. Rightio-man. Whatever you say, chief, and who the fuck made you captain? Beth smiled to herself, remembering a comedian who asked that very question in his routine. The woman in her 30s had already packed up her book, crossword puzzle magazine, reading glasses and headphones to her CD player. Jim Morrison was silent for now though she suspected he’d make some repeat performances once she got to wherever he was taking her.

The plane slowed down on the runway, turning into one of those tunnels and the flight attendant was already standing at the front of the plane to give the remaining orders that they were to follow as they filed from the plane into the airport, and generally be whatever other help they were at the end of a flight. Beth wouldn’t need help and she hoped that neither attendant reached out to touch her. She was already shaking, nervous about the meeting ahead of her.

When she’d started the online friendship, she’d had no intention of it going beyond just that: friendship. But it had. In just a few months, the teasing banter turned to flirting, which then turned to virtual heavy petting and later into a full-on cyber relationship. She often found herself shaking her head and wondering just what in the hell she was thinking. What made the situation even stranger is that the guy on the other end of her keyboard attentions was in college. He’d turned 19 just a couple of months after they’d begun talking and he seemed to have no concerns about their huge age difference whatsoever. If anything, Beth worried more than he did, especially after he’d told her that he loved her. That made things a stranger reality to the 30-something college professor even though she’d written about more impossible-seeming situations all the time.
(more…)

David Izumi was my best friend my whole life. He was born and raised in Japan, in the traditional Japanese family lifestyle. His father was the classic military man who got stationed in Japan, fell in love and had a family, only to eventually move back to the United States.

I met David when I was six years old and we have been inseparable ever since. We grew up on the same block together, went to the same school, did everything together. His family was my family and vice versa.

So it was hard when David told me the week before our High School graduation that he was going to go in the military like his Father and he and his mother would be stationed at his Father’s base in Russia. I felt like I was losing my best friend, and my family, and it was not the easiest thing to swallow.

David and I shared a mutual “going away party” (however, I wasn’t leaving for college for another two months). And we both said our mutual emotional goodbyes. We really didn’t say much that day, just let the day past, realizing what the next few days would bring.

The day of David’s departure to boot camp came and went, and life continued circling around the sun. The summer was slow and unnerving, living in a small town you have very little to entertain yourself with, and when your best friend ups and leaves, it’s even more difficult to do the things you like.

I dated girls on and off that summer, yet found more pleasure in just working and keeping busy.

That’s when things got really strange. (more…)