mature xxx

It was summertime and the campus was dead. I was in the English graduate program at the University of *****, and nearly everyone had gone to wherever they go. I was trying to finish my degree as fast as possible because I was 29 years old and I wanted to get on with my life. Don’t get me wrong, I liked being a student, but I didn’t want to be one forever. So, during summer school I was hanging out with three other students—practically the only people left, at least for a couple of weeks.

We were at the apartment of Janet, a 45 year old woman who, having gotten divorced and sent a kid off to another college was getting a master’s degree so she could teach. Sitting on the floor was Katie, a big girl in her mid-twenties. She was taller than I was and built solid—not fat or even heavy, but you didn’t want to mess with her. On one end of the couch was Wendy—super slut. Now these people were my friends—sort of–, so I don’t mean to be unkind, but that’s exactly what she was. She had a gorgeous body—everything in the right place, a pretty face, long light brown hair and no morals whatsoever. It was a rare evening when she didn’t flash her panties at someone—or someones. I think she was a nymphomaniac. She had slept with a lot of guys and every time her name was mentioned—and it got mentioned a lot—all the guys laughed. We called her a “slush puppy”. I don’t know where that term came from, but if ever there was one, she was it. We’re all sitting around after a sharing a couple of pizzas, just shooting the breeze and watching TV in a rather desultory way when Wendy says,”I’m going down to the Loft.”

The Loft was a restaurant and bar where all the graduate students hung out as well as a mix of professors, undergrads, and locals. Really popular place, though in the summer it was pretty quiet.

“Ill go with her,” said Katie—”you wanna come?” (more…)

There seem to be so many fetishes around these days; latex, rubber, bondage and the like, that good old wife-swapping now appears not to be so popular anymore. Well, let me tell you; it is where I live!

Our whole neighbourhood is at it. Young or old, black or white there are at least twenty of us all within a few miles of each other that think nothing of popping round to a friends’ house for dinner and waking up in the morning with a different partner!

And it’s not just the married couples that get in on the action either. My lovely wife, Mandy and I are very fortunate. We happen to live next door to Julia Mason. Julia is the single mum of an eighteen-year-old son, Max. Her husband apparently left her when Max was very young and she’s reared the lad virtually single-handed. She’s made a pretty good job of it too. But Max is quite a shy lad – unlike his mother! Both Mandy and Julia are bi-sexual and many’s the time that my wife, my neighbour and I have shared a quiet little threesome together.

But this story is not about Julia. It’s about Max – Max and my wife.

It was a Saturday – the best day of the week as far as I’m concerned – and Julia had invited Mandy and I over to her house for a late afternoon drink. It was a hot day in July. Julia had set out her garden furniture on the terrace and so the three of us sat down to enjoy cool cocktails. All of us where in swimsuits in order to soak up the last of the afternoon sun but, Mandy being Mandy, and as usual being as outrageous as possible, had worn the tiniest bikini I had ever seen. The thin material – what there was of it – clung to her like a second skin and left very little to the imagination. (more…)

My mother-in-law continually amazes me. She is always alert to any opportunity for sex. We are sitting at the dinner table tonight. Ruth, my mother-in-law, a very young sixty five, is sitting next to me, with my wife, Beth across from us.

Ruth says to Beth, “I don’t see that salad dressing you had last time, the French vinaigrette type.”

Beth says, “I have some in the refrigerator. I’ll be right back.”

My wife turns to fetch the bottle and Ruth’s hand is in my crotch unzipping my pants. She pulls out my cock, and begins to stroke it under the table. A couple of strokes and I’m hard. Her hand knows just how to get me that way. She’s done it so many times in the past, but tonight there is not going to be time.

“Later,” I say.

She smiles at me and continues her stoking until my wife returns.

“Beth, dear, I’ve changed my mind. Could I have some of that Greek Salad dressing you mentioned earlier?” Beth sighs and turns back to the kitchen.

Ruth goes back to work on my cock. She wants me to pop a load under the table. She gets a kick out of making me shoot my cum on the underside of the table, and then watching the drops fall to the floor leaving dark stains on the carpet. Tonight it’s not going to happen. Beth comes back through the door too quickly, and Ruth releases my cock. I will have to wait for it to go down, so I can put it back in my pants. (more…)

“Tamara, darling, when is your mother getting home?”

“In an hour, Mr. Ivanov, the usual time. As soon as I finish these dishes I start supper. You know that.”

Mr. Ivanov was an old family friend. My mother trusted him to look out for me after school, even though I was a senior now. Still, he’s been good to us since Father died when I was twelve. He takes us out to dinner, brings flowers once a week, and sometimes helps pay a bill, or ‘loans’ my mother money. He promised my father he’d see me through high school, even help me with college.

Mr. Ivanov’s in his fifties, and actually rather good looking—for an older man. He’s very pale, jokes that he’s a real ‘white’ Russian, and has very dark blue eyes like lapis lazuli, and distinguished looking, slightly graying black hair. Even my friends think he’s handsome, for a grownup. He’s lean and very tall, six feet four. I’m five-ten, and enjoy feeling a ‘normal’ height with him.

After my father died, I started to have dreams about Mr. Ivanov in a way that bothered me. Even though I knew I couldn’t control what I dreamed, I began to feel strange, nervous around him, especially when he kept me company in the kitchen because that’s where my dreams always took place.

Typically, he comes up from behind while I’m at the sink or fridge, and rubs against me, up and down, back and forth. He blows on my neck or kisses it and I shiver and sigh, but I keep scrubbing the big soup pot (it’s always that big pot) or holding onto the fridge door. He speaks in Russian and though I don’t understand it, and it can’t really be Russian because I don’t speak it, I know what he’s saying—and it’s not nice. (more…)

I stopped the car in the driveway and turned to Tammy. I didn’t want to turn off the car. That would mean the air-conditioning would stop, and that was having a wonderful effect on her pink, little nipples, the ones I’d been slobbering over earlier. She ignored as she looked at herself in the mirror, trying to straighten out her wispy blond hair. I smiled at the thin, cold figure in front of me. She finally returned my stare.

“Well?” she smirked.

“Lip-stick still a little smudged,” I grinned, trying to be helpful.

She rolled her eyes and reached for her purse, opened it and took out some Kleenex and began wiping clean her thin, pale lips. I breathed in deeply, taking in her fresh, soapy smell, remembering how they’d gotten so smudged less than an hour ago, in her parents’ bedroom. She’d been on her back, thighs open wide, writhing back and forth, side to side, a convulsing mass of eighteen year old flesh, as I pounded into her. She put the stained Kleenex away and turned to me, grinning. I smiled back. How different she’d looked when I’d quickly pulled out of her gripping little cunt and pressed myself into her mouth, releasing gush after gush of sticky goo into her surprised mouth. She pretended she hadn’t liked it. Much of it spilled out and onto the pillow. “It’s not your sperm” she’d said, afterwards, “it’s, you know, that I could taste myself on you still.” I shuddered, excited. Wonderful stuff.

“Well?” she asked, bringing me back to reality. She was waiting for me. “Are we going to stay in your drive-way all night or get to the party?”
(more…)

Walt has been a loner since he graduated from high school. He’s not had any close friends, just a few people that he knows in town. It never really bothered him much at all. The only time it does, is when he needs female company. Then there are the local bars that Walt visits on the weekends, and most of the time he can find a woman to go home with.

He owns, and operates the only Gas Station and Garage in town. Walt had saved every penny he had ever earned as a teen. Working summer jobs and fixing old broke down cars for his friends. After high school he rented a vacant building, and started his business. Within two years he had the biggest garage in the county.

But, many nights he comes home from work, and thinks how nice it would be to have a nice dinner on the table. Also, a nice lady to clean, and take care of his home. Most of all, someone to talk to, and share each other’s day. Walt was beginning to realise that he was a very lonely man, he needed to do something about it.

The next day while at the garage he got the idea of placing an add in the local paper. He would find a nice lady come in to cook and clean for him, in exchange for free room and board. That way he would have someone to talk with in the lonely evening hours.

Later that afternoon he drove the local newspaper office, as he walked through the door a very attractive woman said, “Walt Anderson, I haven’t seen you in ages. How ya been?” Betty Smith asks with a big grin on her face. Walt had known Betty since high school, they dated for more than three years, and came close to getting married. (more…)

I came across an ad for Tantra massage in the DFW area. I called and spoke with a wonderful woman named Akasha. She described herself as a 40-year-old who practiced sensual massage techniques in the Tantra method. She would also provide instructions in stress reduction techniques and provide a massage to beat all others. We made an appointment for the following Monday.

Monday came and I drove over to Akasha’s location. I was slightly nervous since her directions sent me to an “Inn Suites” hotel. I parked in front of the room number, knocked on the door, and was greeted by Akasha. She was dressed in a long white Kaftan with her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. We shook hands and kissed lightly on the cheek. Even though the room was a hotel room, Akasha decorated the room with some candles, incense, and Indian statues of elephants. We sat on a couch and discussed why I was there and what she can provide for me. I shared my family experience in Florida and the tension I was under. She reassured me the breathing techniques, along with the massage would help matters. I paid her the fee agreed over the phone, and then got undressed. Akasha proceeded to remove her Kaftan and lower the lights in the room. Akasha’s body was decorated with some nice tattoos over her left breast, along with both of her nipples being pierced with barbells. I admired her body and complimented her on her design. She smiled and walked me over to her massage table, which she arranged to be in the middle of the room. (more…)

Very many times, I had planned to truly ensure that Tara was fully satisfied. Satisfied with what??? Wasn’t I fucking her regularly?? And wasn’t I playing all the games she could dream off as well??

No. I did not mean that.

Based on the fact that she would ring me in the office, or in the middle of the night when I am overseas and simply tell me” I want you to fuck me now”. Often I have left office, gone to Tara’s office, picked her up, taken her home and fucked till my dick would simply not stand up again. She would always say “That was really nice. Where did you learn to fuck??”.

I would always tell her “It is your pussy that teaches everything”. And then I would kiss her on her clit.

She would always protest at this closing kiss and say “One more time??”.

During one of my trips to the United States, I ordered a full service fucking machine to be delivered to my hotel room. It was delivered. I worried if the Customs chap in India would simply seize it, based on the prudish Indian Government behavior. With significant worry I boarded the plane back and went on telling myself that in case the Customs officer made trouble, I would simply gift to him and tell him to enjoy. (more…)

Tara was my next door neighbour. 29 years old and a little hottie. Yes I know it’s a cliché but I had lusted after my neighbour for about four years. You see my wife doesn’t understand me. Cliché number two. Whereas Tara seemed vivacious and to be honest a horny little sexpot my wifes interest in sex had died a few years ago. Sure she let me fuck her missionary position on special occasions that was about it. Basically I was gagging for it.

So I hoped was Tara. When we were alone she had worked it into the conversation that her husband was no great shakes in the bedroom department. The little brunette had also flirted outrageously with me when we were together and thought nothing of winding me right up with boasts of her cocksucking abilities.

It appeared she was right about her husband though. Ian had told me when we were out drinking together that he”Liked to get it over with. You know… Once I’ve shot my load what’s in it for me! ” These sentiments meant one thing. Tara was indeed being deprived in the bedroom stakes. Good news for anyone hoping to get into her underwear. Good news for me. (more…)

Janice had been a resident of the complex for five years. She participated in the sponsored activities on an irregular basis. There had been men at the complex that provided a casual ‘roll in the hay’. When Janice attempted to engage their minds all were lacking. They thought with their gonads and their intelligence was limited to football on TV.

Bill was a newcomer of just six months. He had met many of the residents while checking his mail, doing his laundry or paying his rent. It took awhile for names to earn a place in his memory. Faces were there like photographs without captions. Janice’s face was there, but unlike so many others, with a caption attached. The lady in his mental photograph had mischief behind the eyes, a damn good-looking body and a spark of something. If something happened fine, if nothing happened that was okay as well. He had never been taught the signs that a woman was interested in him and he should follow up.

It was a chance meeting that made Bill stick in Janice’s mind. Oh she had seen him around. Janice might have said hello while getting her mail or even finishing her laundry. The meeting took place at the complex office. She had a meeting and didn’t want to be late but her rent was due. If Janice waited until after the meeting the office would be closed and in her mind the rent would be overdue.

Being in a rush Janice didn’t see the office door being opened. She did feel the body she bounced off of. Janice also felt the hands that grasped her arms to prevent her from stumbling backward. When she inhaled Janice caught Bill’s scent. Sunny, woodsy and a scent she had trouble defining. Janice was about to apologize when she heard. (more…)

This is a tale from my younger days, when I was in the 6th form. I was 18 and studying my second year at Advanced or ‘A’ level. I was studying English, Chemistry and PE, so I kept in shape, both physically and mentally. For the courses we did, there were three teachers in every subject, but each particular subject was taught by a combination of two of these teachers. My favourite subject was English, particularly with Mrs Green. She was in her late 30’s and had a fine figure. She was about a size 12, with nice curves, all in the right places. She had a magnificent pair of breasts, not too large for her frame, and not too small. I’d have said something around a C or a D cup. Her fine legs and sweet smile were all complimented by her long, red hair. She was the primary teacher in English, meaning that we spent twice as long with her as we did with Mr Johnson, the head of the department. That was what made the course. (more…)

That morning when Elizabeth had headed out to work the sky was blue, and the sun had been shinning. But now at 5:00 P.M. when she exited the office building downtown, where she worked. She discovered the weather had made a drastic change. It now was raining and the wind was blowing fearlessly. In addition, Elizabeth knew hailing down a cab at 5:00 P.M., downtown on Friday in this kind of weather wasn’t going to happen. Therefore, she turned into the direction towards the subway, which was a 5-block walk from where she was, and begin walking. Before she had made it half way down the first block, she was soaking wet, and shivering.

Then out of nowhere a cab pulled up to the curb along side and the passenger side window came down and the driver called out to Elizabeth. Hey, you look pretty unhappy out there, would you like to jump in and get out of the rain, asked the driver. God bless you, thank you, yes I would, replied Elizabeth. Her body was numb, and the warm cab felt like heaven when she climbed into the backseat of it. (more…)

My favorite teacher was my math teacher, Mrs. Gibson. She was in her late thirties, a wife and a mom, but man, was she sexy! She had long full blonde hair, a pretty face, was average in height, and had big tits. Like most of the teachers she dressed casual more than she dressed up, but whatever she wore, it was hard to hide her hot body. I wasn’t much of a math student, and since I had math my last class of the day, I spent most of the period staring at Mrs. Gibson and having fantasies about her. She didn’t wear skirts very often, but when she did, I would try to look up her skirt as she sat on her desk. Sometimes I was rewarded with a glimpse of her panties. I also liked watching her ass wiggle when she wrote on the board. But mostly I stared at her tits, especially if she wore something tight or something that I could see her bra through.

My class was a handful for her, but she kept control. There were fifteen of us in the class, nine boys and six girls, and I think that most of us guys were bad at math, and we had some aggressive guys that misbehaved pretty often. Early in the year Mrs. Gibson seemed like a bitch, but once the class got used to her discipline, she seemed to loosen up, even get friendly. Still, we were a rowdy bunch, and she seemed to accept some of the boys’ minor misbehaving. (more…)

It is not a story but a fact of my life. I was in std. 12th at that time. I was very good at studies. I had tuition of my school teacher. Her name was Mrs. Neerja. She was a teacher of math’s & science. I had very good impression on her as a student. But I was very much impressed by her body especially by her boobs. They were very good & perfect in shape and size. I didn’t have bad eyes over her when I joint her tuition. My interest in her started after some days of joining the tuition. I will tell how it happened.

She used to call us at her home for tuition. We were 14 students in our batch. We used to sit on the floor and she used to sit on a chair. Once while teaching math’s she gave us a problem to solve. I could do about half of the problem and then I got a bit confused so I asked here what to do further. She came to me and since I was sitting on the floor she bend towards me to explain me the problem. Suddenly she got ‘khujli’ (itching) on the lower side of her neck and as her hand went to her neck my eyes went there. I saw her big and well-shaped boobs. I could not see them fully. Even I could not see her nipples but I saw the big and deep valley created by her two big mountains like boobs. She had all her attention in the problem and I had mine in her valley. This was the day, which made me eager about her. (more…)

Cynthia woke up rubbing her pussy through her soaked panties; she was dreaming again, the same dream she had the past few months. There she was in her bed naked and a youthful looking man was in front of her masturbating the biggest cock she has ever laid eyes on. That dream always made her cum in her sleep and she would wake up with her pussy drenched with her love juices. That morning she was extra horny such that she continued to rub herself after she has awakened. Cynthia lazily kneaded her large breasts through her silk negligee and then ran her fingers down to her dripping cunt and slowly rubbed her wet slit. This went on for several minutes until Cynthia trembled to a pulsating orgasm. After a few minutes after her orgasm Cynthia shrugged it off and then took a bath, she was already running late for her class.

Mrs. Cynthia McKinley is a 40-year-old teacher at an all boys’ private high school where she teaches natural science. She’s been married to a Navy man for 10 years and to whom she has two children. Although Cynthia is of the conservative type and a very faithful wife to her husband, but due to the nature of her husband’s work Cynthia was always at home alone and yearning for her husband’s attention. That’s why she has always those dreams. She was lusting for a man’s touch. (more…)