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June 17, 2007

older men fucking young women

Filed under: old man sex — Kamo @ 12:16 pm

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.

And, here I stood awaiting this young girl now 19 and in college. She had written that she was coming to see me rather than spending spring break with friends. She was on her own, as she put it, and wanted to see her internet friend. One hears so much about the internet acquaintances, particularly those that are seeking illegal relationships, and I hoped beyond hope that she would be genuine.

I had been widowed for almost 3 years and in that time had dated some but involved myself in my work and dwelled on the 29 years I had loved beyond love. At 52 years of age it was ridiculous of me to continue what had become a long distance infatuation with this young woman.

Oh, yes, we had been talking over the internet for quite some time but now we were going to meet face-to-face. She had described herself vividly, petite, dark brown hair that is almost black, dazzling brown eyes, and an endearing smile.

I had made a small sign that simply said Terry and I was going to hold it up when I saw someone nearing her description but I didn’t have to. As I turned to look toward the entry way I saw her; petite, dark hair, beautiful. She looked straight at me and smiled and began walking my way. “Terry?” I half shouted. She smiled again than almost ran to me.

I was scared coming all this way to meet a man so much older than me but here I was and I was determined to see it through. If he was ugly I would simply pass by him and find some solitary enjoyment. There he was, standing near the baggage carousel. He was as he had described himself, balding, a slight belly, brown hair, and blue eyes. And he had a captivating smile. Just then he called my name and my heart leapt. I think I was running when I jumped into his arms. He felt good, he smelled good.

I was holding her close to me just enjoying the nearness of her and the smell of her soft perfume. I eased my hold on her enough so that we could look each other in the eye. It was then that she kissed me. Not a soft kiss but a hard passionate kiss that sealed everything we had said to each other in e-mails. I was sure everyone in the airport was looking, wondering why this beautiful young girl was kissing her grandfather this way. At that point I didn’t care what anyone saw or thought; I just let it all go and kissed her.

When we kissed my heart skipped a beat. It was as I had hoped it would be, long, sensual, and captivating. His arms engulfed me and I felt so safe and secure. I didn’t want to end the kiss but we had to.

Her luggage arrived and we left. All through the parking lot our conversation was mainly about the flight and how long it took and all sorts of random time killing mind numbing conversation. In the car she remarked about the scenery and how beautiful the area was.

My home is in an area of larger acreages and somewhat secluded. Terry found it to her liking as well as the manicured lawn and neat home. Once inside I took her luggage to the guest bedroom. At first I thought of putting it in my room, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous that she wanted to sleep with me. I showed her through the house and tried to make her feel at home. I had removed all pictures of my late wife but left the other family photos; children and grandchildren.

His home was delightful; so charming and well kept. I felt immediately at home. I was taken aback when he put my luggage in another room but I understood. He was a gentleman and a little scared. I would take care of that soon. I felt that I needed a shower to remove the airplane smell. He showed me the hallway bathroom but I wanted to use his large shower, in his bedroom. He nervously excused himself to prepare us some cool drinks while I cleaned up.

I was in the kitchen holding a glass in my hand; it was shaking. There was a beautiful young girl 33 years younger than me taking a shower in my bathroom. An old fool, I thought to myself. A very old food to believe she came to be your lover. I had just filled the glasses with ice when she came into the room and cleared her throat. I nearly dropped the glasses. She was wrapped in a towel. I looked at her eyes, her neck, her shoulders, then at her slender muscular legs and her dainty feet with the red painted toes.

“You like” she asked.

I think I stammered an “um hum” back I’m not sure. I sat the glasses down and when I turned she opened the towel giving me the most wonderful sight. Her naked body was just as I had seen it in her photos; her dark hair above her vagina, her small upturned breasts, her flat stomach, and petite sexiness. I wanted her, I wanted to taste her, I wanted to smell her, and I wanted to make love to her.

When I opened the towel I knew I was giving myself to him. We had only just met in person but we had truly known each other for over a year. I knew I wanted him right then, right there. His eyes were devouring me and I was getting a wet feeling in my pussy. I wanted him to cross the scant few steps and grab me, hold me, throw me to the floor and take me.

I held her close and she dropped the towel around her feet. I kissed her and she kissed back. I could feel the softness of her skin and smell the clean sweetness of her body. I was getting an erection and I didn’t hide it. I pressed it against her and she pressed back. I picked her up in my arms and carried her to my bed. I looked down at her beautiful nakedness. It had been a long time since I had been with a woman and even longer with one so beautiful. I lifted her in my arms and carried her to my bed. I couldn’t wait to taste her lips more, to suckle her lovely upturned breasts, and then to dine at her virgin pussy. When my lips touched her breast she lifted to me and sucked in a sharp breath of air. I felt the nipple harden in my mouth and her body squirm as the glorious feeling overpowered her. I licked down, past her stomach, past the thatch of dark brown hair, down one leg to her trim feet with painted toes. I licked back, past the thatch of hair and down the other leg. Upon my return I aimed my tongue at the base of her slit, at that point between vagina and anus. The reaction of her body told me I was doing the right thing.

When his lips touched my vagina I thought I would faint. How many times I had made him describe how he would make love to me “down there” and now it was happening. I felt his tongue slide up one side of my vagina then down and up the other side. I could barely wait for him to find my clitoris. Then he was between the lips, his tongue dashing inside my opening and I could feel it against the walls of my vagina. When he moved up and began licking and sucking my clitoris I thought I had gone to heaven. Mere words cannot describe how I became lost, totally disjointed from my being, as he brought me to a crashing orgasm. I remember touching his head, pressing him harder against my clit, and then clutching the sheets as my orgasm swept over me like a wave on the beach.

I knew from her moans and the way her body rose against me that I had brought her to her first oral sex orgasm. It made me feel wonderful and ready for more. I rose above her and aimed my hard cock at her wet opening.

“Are you sure?” I asked her.

“Oh yes. Please. Yes. Make love to me now.”

I slid slowly inside her virgin walls feeling the tightness of her tunnel then the small barrier of membrane. I stopped there and once again looked at her beautiful dark eyes.

“It may hurt sweetheart. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

I plunged through her maidenhead, she yelped, and her body pressed against me with her arms and legs around me. I was fully inside her and I stayed until she relaxed.

The pain was not as bad as I had expected but it was surprising. I was no longer a virgin. I had given this wonderful man the only precious gift I could bring. I could feel him deeply inside me as the pain subsided and the pleasure of knowing I was making love to him began to rule. He withdrew slowly then re-entered me. He kept doing it then increased the speed of his movements. It was wonderful, frightful, and I began to feel an orgasm moving over me.

I could hold no longer and came, shooting my semen inside her. I stopped and stayed atop her as our labored breathing slowed. I felt she had achieved an orgasm with me inside her but I wasn’t sure. It had been a while for me and I couldn’t wait to cum inside her. My vasectomy insured she would not get pregnant. I stayed inside her as my cock softened and withdrew itself from her. I knew there would be a mess on us and the bed as well but I was in no hurry to remove myself from her body.

When he came it was wonderful as I could feel his semen shooting against my walls. I loved it when he stayed atop and inside me while his cock softened. I so wanted him to remain, keep me filled with his body, but it didn’t happen. I hoped he wouldn’t look at me because I was sure I was a mess. Just then I wanted to jump up, run to the shower, and make myself pretty for him.

I rolled from her and pulled the sheet over us. I wanted to hold her, feel her near, and enjoy the after moments of our love making. She reacted and put her head on my shoulder, her arm across me, and I smelled her hair and the aroma of wonderful sex that wafted toward us.

“Are you OK?”

She nodded against my shoulder. “I’m fine.”

“I love you, you know.” She squeezed me and pressed harder against me.

“I know you do. I really know you do.”

We stayed like that for a while then showered and I prepared dinner. That was followed by sitting on the sofa and making out like teenagers. I loved it. I hadn’t felt this young in a long time.

We were making out like I had done with boys on dates but this was in his house after we had made love. Then he asked me about boys and my dating. We had discussed this some in e-mails but it was so much easier to talk than write. “A couple of weeks ago I had a movie date with a boy I’ve known for some time. I had on these white shorts and a white tank top and we went to the park. We were kissing and he started to touch my breasts. I didn’t have on a bra and he put his hand under my top. After a while he started to unbutton my shorts and undid the zipper. I was so nervous and scared but wanted him to touch me. He put his hand in the back of my panties first and was touching my bum and then he put it in the front. It felt really nice and he pushed down my shorts and panties and asked if he could look at me. I felt really embarrassed but let him. I had my top pushed above my breasts and my shorts and panties down and felt really exposed and thought someone might see us so I told him to look quickly and I pulled up my shorts. He put his hand back inside and was touching me the whole time we kissed. If felt so nice. He was rubbing my vagina at the top and I think I had a couple orgasms. Once I had a date and the boy put my hand on his penis and I did like touching it a lot. It was really hard and felt so big but it turned me on a lot. I touched another guy too and he was totally big and hard. It must feel weird to have one and have it get so hard. Does it?”

I sat listening to her like a father listening to his daughter talk about parties and school friends. I smiled at her question and tried to figure an answer. “Well, I don’t know. I mean I’ve had it all my life and it’s been getting hard since I was a teenager so I don’t know that it feels weird. Does it feel weird to have a clitoris?”

She giggled and snuggled close. “I see your point. Can I touch you and make you cum? I did it to a couple of boys but we were kissing at the time and I didn’t get to see it. The first boy taught me how. My hand did get some on it and it was really neat to think I helped to that. Can I?”

“OK, sure. Now?”

“Yes. Right now.”

I leaned back unzipped and opened my shorts. She reached inside and pulled my briefs down to bring my half erect cock into her view. She held it in her hand before she began slowly and softly moving up and down the shaft. She leaned closer as if she was inspecting the skin, the glans, and the piss slit. “Put your mouth on it” I encouraged. She looked at me then opened her mouth and took the head inside.

I remembered her writing once. Please tell me about how you would make me feel good with your mouth then what you would want me to do to you. I described fellatio in the best medical type answer I could. Now she was experimenting on me. “Have you done this before? Put one in your mouth I mean?” She gave me a look that said how stupid that question was.

She kept stroking me and pulled her head back to watch. “I’m cumming.” I moaned. She leaned closer and stroked a little faster until the white semen began shooting from the slit. It was on her hand, my legs, and my shorts. She looked at her hand then at me as if asking what I should do now. “Lick it.” I said. She moved her hand to her mouth and tentatively licked at the substance. She made a grimace face then said “Well, it doesn’t taste bad but not real good either.” I laughed, she laughed and I went to clean up the mess on my legs and shorts.

Later we went to bed and made love again, slowly, very passionately and I encouraged her to try sucking me again. This time she was more active, with my instruction, and it was great. We slept naked, soundly, and awoke only to the morning sun peeking through the curtains.

We had 4 days ahead of us to enjoy each other. We could stay in bed for 4 days or we could become acquainted and do things. We chose the latter. Our days were spent site seeing our nights spent making love. We tried almost everything but drew the line at anal. I made love to her in every position I could think of and found she really liked being on top, so did I.

It was Saturday and she had a flight home. The drive to the airport was quiet, neither of us speaking much. I was regretting her departure, I was regretting that she came into my life, but I was remembering great sex, a wonderful partner, and a beautiful young lady.

Don was taking me to the airport. There were so many things I wanted to say but nothing came out. I wanted to thank him but that would have sounded stupid. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him but I had known him for only a short time. I wanted to have him stop the car and make love to me right there but that would have caused problems. I wanted to stay. I wanted him to ask me to marry him and I would have yelled yes.

I wondered what she was thinking because she was unusually quiet. It is crazy but I wanted to pull into a parking lot and make love to her right there but that was dumb. I even thought about asking her to stay and live with me, perhaps marry me, but I knew the answer would be no as she had much more living to do than me.

She held my hand as we walked to the airport my other hand carrying her luggage. It was a quiet walk. She checked in and we sat in a lounge for as long as we could. When they called her flight I saw a tear in her eye and I know there were several in mine. I held her close; I didn’t want to let her go. Her arms were tightly around me and her head nestled against my chest. I lifted her face up to mine and I kissed her. I kissed her hard, deeply and passionately. When the kiss broke I whispered “I love you. I really love you.”

She kissed my cheek “I love you. I have fallen in love with you.”

With that she turned and went through the gate entries and out of my sight. I sat in my car until I saw a plane depart that I thought was hers. Then I drove home. The house was lonely, so very lonely and painfully quiet. I went to the computer and sent an e-mail.

‘May your days and nights be filled with wonderful memories of us and the rest of your life make you as happy as you have made me in one week. Love Don.’

I knew it would be hours and hours before she read it and I hoped for a reply.
I had sent her the e-mail and hoped she would reply. Our week together had been more, much more, than I had dared dream. A beautiful 19 year old girl sleeping with a 52 year old man was way out of the ordinary. I knew it would be hours, perhaps even a day, before she would open her e-mail and read then reply. I would just have to wait.

T- It had been a wonderful almost mystic week with Don. I kept asking myself why I had enjoyed it; why had I wanted it, and why did I want more. The lady next to me fell asleep almost immediately after take off and I was able to just enjoy my thoughts. I began to think about what I would tell my Mom or if I should tell Mom. After all what was there to tell her? Yeah, sure; what! Hey Mom, I lost my virginity to a man old enough to be my father! Yeah, sure; she would really sit still for that. Or maybe I could say Mom I found a father figure and slept with him! No. That wouldn’t work either. I had a decision to make.

I turned on the TV and began fixing some dinner. The phone rang and it was my daughter Evelyn. “Dad? Are you alright?” “Sure honey. Why?”

“Well, I left you 6 or 7 messages last week and you didn’t return my calls. Are you sure everything is OK?”

“Evie everything is fine, just fine. I, uh, I had company last week and I was just, er, busy. This is complicated honey and not something I want to talk to my daughter about. Well, not now anyway.”

“Company? Can I assume you mean woman company?”

“Yeah, you can. But that’s all I’m telling you now.”

“Oh no you don’t! What’s her name? How did you meet her? Do I know her? Come on, Dad. Tell!”

As Evie was going through all her questions it ran through my mind that I couldn’t tell her that I had just had the most wonderful week of loving with a girl barely 7 years older than my granddaughter. She wouldn’t understand; she couldn’t. It just wasn’t something that I would normally do. Would I?

“Here’s all I’m saying. She is beautiful, you don’t know her, and we met accidentally about a year ago. And, I doubt I will ever see her again.” The last part hit me about as hard as the silence on the other end of the phone. I was right, I doubted I would ever see her again, in fact I knew it. It wouldn’t be fair to her and perhaps not even to me.

T- I pulled into my driveway knowing my parents would be anxious to hear all about the spring break trip. It isn’t easy living with your parents and attending school but it is a lot cheaper and easier on them. Mom was in the living room working on some sewing and jumped up at my entrance. She threw her arms around me. “Oh, thank God you’re safe. We’ve been so worried.”

“Worried? Why?”

“We tried to call you but the hotel didn’t have you registered. I called Ellen’s mother and she gave me the same hotel. Where have you been Terry?”

Mom had just made my decision for me. I’m not a good liar, never have been, and this was no time to try to improve. “Sit down, Mom.” After a good 20 minutes of silence I had told my story to her. All about Don; about us, and about what I had been doing for the past week; about his age, and how I felt about him.

Mom finally broke her silence. “You, you slept with him? Terry that’s, my God, you, you could be pregnant or have a disease. What were you thinking?”

I reassured her that I couldn’t be pregnant and that I was totally sure he was safe and free from disease. The next question was harder to answer. What do we tell Dad?

It was Sunday afternoon before I heard from Terry. It wasn’t an e-mail, it was a phone call. “Don. I wanted to hear your voice and talk to you. I, I told my Mom and Dad about us, everything. Needless to say they are unhappy and somewhat disappointed but I am able to make my own decisions. Before you say anything let me say more. I fell in love with you over the internet and reinforced that love with you. I have never felt so secure and wanted by anyone as I felt with you. I know the age difference is a problem, maybe more for you than me, but I love you.”

I wiped a tear away as it ran down my cheek. “Terry I, yes I wanted you and yes I wanted to make you feel secure and happy. I’m sorry you had to tell your parents so soon I know it would have been easier if it could have been further in the future but the truth had to come out sometime. You make me feel young, so very young, and so virile, but you are right that the age difference is a problem. I have been thinking about you and about us and, and, well it just, it won’t work. Oh, yes, we had one wonderful week of fun and great sex but there has to be more, so much more. I am 33 years older than you; I even have a daughter older than you. A life for us would be complicated because you would want children; something I can’t give you, and you would want your circle of friends, friends your own age not old fogies like me playing cards and drinking beer. I hope you understand.”

I could hear her crying softly. “Everything you said is almost exactly what my parents said. Do you guys have a book of things to say to kids? Do you rehearse these things?”

The anger in her voice was coming out and I knew it was aimed at our circumstance not at me personally. “No honey. It’s called loving someone enough to tell the truth even when that truth hurts. I would be proud and honored to spend the rest of my life with you but that wouldn’t be fair to you. Perhaps I could give you 20 or 25 years before I die or maybe less. You deserve someone who can look at you and ask you to marry him knowing you will have a family and grow old together. Every time you looked at me you would see an old face staring at you; wrinkles, old eyes, legs that don’t walk as well, you deserve more, you deserve better.”

“I love you.” She said through her crying and ended the call. I put my head down on the table and cried. I hadn’t cried since my wife’s funeral, but now I was shedding tears. I looked in the mirror across from the table and saw an old face staring back. I hadn’t seen that face in over a week, but now it was back. All last week, the wonderful week with her, I had seen myself younger and desirable but now my true reflection was coming back.

T- I hung up the phone and rolled over on my bed burying my face in the pillow crying. I knew he was right, I knew my parents were right, but what we had had was also so right. I had given myself to him, given him my virginity, and had taken from him the knowledge of what making love is all about. I wanted to write to him but this wasn’t the time. I knew I would only repeat what I had said on the telephone and I didn’t want to say it again. Later that night I undressed and lay naked with my hands roaming my body. They were Don’s hands, and they were touching me most wonderfully. I pushed a finger inside myself and it was Don’s wonderful cock going inside me. I closed my eyes and I smelled his scent, heard his wonderful moans and felt his lips on my breasts. I had an orgasm and I kissed him goodnight.

For the past week I had enjoyed making love to a beautiful young girl. My cock had been an instrument of pleasure and now there was no music for my instrument. The silence in the house was almost deafening. I could hear her laughter, I could smell her perfume on my pillow, and I could feel her soft skin against my palms. Sleep finally came but throughout the night I rolled to my side hoping she would be there. She wasn’t. It was a few weeks later that I received her e-mail.

T- I had been in class but not hearing the instructors or really hearing anyone. I had confided in Ellen and we cried together. She told me I had to move on, forget about Don, and get my head back in school. That night I sat down at the computer and finally found the words I wanted to write.

“Dearest Don. It is difficult to sit here and try to put into words the myriad of feelings going through me. I have been awakened, like Sleeping Beauty, by your kisses, your touches, and your love making. I have cried at my loss, the loss of your kisses, touches, and love making but I, we, have to go on. My mind has replayed what you said a thousand times and each time I cry and each time I know you are right. I should apologize to you, apologize that I dragged you into my life with this internet and apologize for coming to you and making you love me. But I won’t because what we had, what you gave me, will be there always. You will always be my first love, my first lover, and my teacher. I will treasure our few days, I will treasure our memories, and I will treasure forever the way you made me feel. I will end by saying I love you and always will, but please understand that this will be my last writing to you and I hope you will not write again to me. I love you Don, I always will.”

I didn’t write again. I knew if I did I would only write things she didn’t need to hear and I would only be pouring out my heart, the heart of an old fool. I had taken a few pictures of us together and I kept them safely tucked away where I could pull them out and bring back fond memories. After a few months I sat down with Evelyn and told her the whole story. She didn’t scold or chastise me; she just put her head on my shoulder and her arm around me.

I did meet another lady, a 48 year old widow, and she moved in with me after a year of dating. She found the pictures and asked about them. I told her the whole story; she didn’t scold or chastise me; she just put her head on my shoulder and her arm around me.

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