August 6, 2008
A Box Lunch
I guess the premise of finding love over a box lunch is pretty far-fetched, especially if you consider our difference in ages. Certainly, the thought of a love between a sixty year old man and a nineteen year old woman, would be difficult to believe, but considering it all developed from a shared box lunch has to stagger the imagination. Of course, as all love must do, our affair ended tragically, but in spite of it all, we had our moments, Kieko and I had our moments.
It began over lunch, or more correctly, it began over my lunch. The distinction is important because I ate and she… she… well she performed. Not really performed, she basically sat motionless, but in doing so, she basically performed.
Let me explain if I can. I have lived alone for many years now, my wife left me for another man. There might have been a poetic justice in it all if she left me for a younger man, but he was older, much older than I, older and richer. Anyway, over the years, my friends had tried to fix me up wi
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July 17, 2008
I am a man that was still in his thirties, even though I had raised a child that was eighteen when she finally left home to move in with a girlfriend and start college. I had dated (and had a very steamy sex life with) her mother, Maria, while we were in college ourselves, and she had gotten pregnant in our second year together.
She had been nineteen and I barely twenty when she gave birth to a baby daughter, Briana.
Maria and I had a great marriage for twelve years despite marrying and having a child so young, until a drunk driver shattered that part of my life.
Maria had not only died at the scene of the accident, but twelve year old Briana (whom I had tagged Bree from the time she was a child) had been critically injured and was in need of blood transfusions to survive.
When I had gone to donate blood for her, it was found that not only was I not the right blood type for her to receive the transfusion, I wasn’t even Bree’s birth father.
I was devastated to learn this at first, but nevertheless w
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June 23, 2008
I was surprised to find that a full week after I seduced, shaved, and fucked Rita Clay I was still very interested in her. She was different from the women I usually took to my bed. Maybe it was the fact that she was old enough to be my mother. Maybe I just loathed her scumbag husband so much that screwing his sexy wife added that additional spice. Or maybe it was Rita herself, who was absolutely delicious in the sack and merited much additional study.
A week later and I was lying in bed when the phone rang. I leaned over and answered it and heard Rita’s excited voice say, “He’s gone, he left on his trip. Do you still want to go?”
“Of course,” I said. “I made the reservations yesterday. Do you still want to go?”
“Oh, darling, yes, I can’t wait. What time should we meet?”
Before I could answer the girl sucking my cock leaned up and said, “Do you want me to stop?”
I covered the receiver and said, “Keep sucking until I tell you to stop.”
I said to Rita, “I’ll pick you up around 6, is that
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June 23, 2008
“Are you ready, yet?”, Samantha hollered from their bedroom.
“Just a little while longer, Baby!”, Rick yelled back. “I’ll come get you! You just keep watching that video I bought you!”
It was Christmas Eve, and Rick had spent hours upon hours planning this night to give Sam her “special” Christmas present, and here it was, Christmas Eve, and all his efforts were coming to fruition. Rick told Samantha to dress up in one of her sexiest, see-thru negligees and watch the video while he set everything up. The sex video he’d gotten her was probably getting her nice, wet, and horny for him, he surmised, and he was just about ready to let her have her present.
Several times, Rick got himself so horny, thinking about this night, shopping for that video and his costume, rehearsing in front of the mirror, buying some things he was setting up, taping music, that he got hard and wet with precum and had to satisfy himself. Not tonight! Tonight, Sam was going to want him as much as he wanted her, and they’d BO
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June 23, 2008
It had been sometime during the night when his wife had gone out of town. Kris thought he had either been dreaming or Trina had come home early and decided to surprise him with a good blow job.
As he felt the warm, hot mouth around his generous cock, he moaned softly and bucked his hips up slightly to thrust his dick further through the lips wrapped around it.
But when he opened his eyes and looked down, it wasn’t his wife’s mouth around his cock nor was it a dream. It had been his son’s sexy girlfriend, Tracy, that was now working his stiff pole with her mouth, tongue and throat.
He and Tracy had fucked before and he never thought he would have her in his bed again; even at the times Kris had fucked his wife, he thought of the hot night Tracy had gotten him into bed, her willing mouth and sex-crazed body giving his cock a workout. And now she was back for more.
Tracy popped his dick out of her mouth, licking the shaft.
“Don’t stop now, baby,” Kris moaned. “Suck that dick some more with that great
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June 20, 2008
Here I was once again sequestered in my room, not allowed the association of humanity and of all times, on a beautiful late nineteen fifties New England summer evening.
All agony was because that brat of a sister of mine set me up again, who had just turned sixteen and that I was eighteen. But unfortunately for me she was mom and dad’s little sweetie whereas I tended to be a little rough around the edges. So obviously whenever a dispute arose her cute and sweet would always won out over my not so cute. That’s why, even at my age, it seemed I always was the one to be relegated to their room.
I realize today it is hard to fathom that someone of that age would have to suffer such childish punishments. But back in that day and age, when you were under mom and dad’s roof, regardless of age, you were also under their thumb until you left home.
We lived in west suburban Boston; an area that was jam-packed with double deck two family homes and so did my family, we lived in quite an average two family ourselve
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June 19, 2008
A Box Lunch
I guess the premise of finding love over a box lunch is pretty far-fetched, especially if you consider our difference in ages. Certainly, the thought of a love between a sixty year old man and a nineteen year old woman, would be difficult to believe, but considering it all developed from a shared box lunch has to stagger the imagination. Of course, as all love must do, our affair ended tragically, but in spite of it all, we had our moments, Kieko and I had our moments.
It began over lunch, or more correctly, it began over my lunch. The distinction is important because I ate and she… she… well she performed. Not really performed, she basically sat motionless, but in doing so, she basically performed.
Let me explain if I can. I have lived alone for many years now, my wife left me for another man. There might have been a poetic justice in it all if she left me for a younger man, but he was older, much older than I, older and richer. Anyway, over the years, my friends had tried to fix me up wi
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June 18, 2008
A fat black old woman story: seven steps is a short way for rewarding.
I want to share my story because I did not expect at my age to find a (young) lover and experience such delight in it (may it last forever!).
The first step: “Well, I accepted my new job in New York and he didn’t want give up his to move with me, so I’ve ended our relationship.” With this words a younger friend of my announced me that she ended her relationship with a fine young white man. They are both 32 years old and in the eyes of a 63 years old black woman like me, unacceptable to end a relationship for such a reason; I am old fashion by this.
“If you love him enough you could stay here with your job and be happy with him?” I said.
She responded. “No man can stand in the way of my carrier. I have made my decision and by the end of the week, I’m gone. A new place, a new job, and a whole new life for me.”
I answered: “Just leave such a wonderful man for that? That’s not fair and not nice from you and I think you’re v
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June 17, 2008
Angry
Yes, I’m angry. Angry at myself because I can’t resist giving in to that dominate lust I experienced after years. It’s that strong, that common sense is overpowered by the urge. Weekly now my ugly, fat old black body is the possessing of a young white stranger with a horny obsessing for it. I think it’s an unhealthy desire and also cannot believe this young white man can find some attraction in it. And I give in to his sick desire, because I’m too weak to put an end to this. Let me explain:
I am a fat black old woman in her sixties, always being single because nobody ever wanted me. Life can be so unfair sometimes. I’ve always been fat, better said heavily overweight. I’m a kind of ugly, very tall and never attract eyes of men. I’m really an old fat, very big black woman, near 325 pounds.
When I was around twenty and already very fat, I let me seduce me by a horny boy. I thought he liked me as a person but soon found out he was just curious about my big fat body. He deflowered me against the
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June 16, 2008
I first saw her at the new convenience store on the corner of the new bypass and Walnut Road. I had stopped in to get a six pack and as I walked through the door, she greeted me almost as if she knew me. I couldn’t help but smile. She had that kind of effect on me.
She was almost as tall as I am and I stand six feet even. She was young but it was hard to tell just how young she was. She was slender and was wearing the nondescript uniform of convenience store clerks everywhere. She had on a white shirt, blue pants, and an oversized vest that hid her features. She wasn’t really pretty, cute maybe. Her hair was a shade of dirty blond. There was really nothing outstanding about her. But when she smiled and spoke, my dick stirred.
After we exchanged greetings, I proceeded to get my beer. I returned to the counter to check out and we just naturally started talking. “You are wearing my shirt,” she said as she accepted my money and was getting my change.
I looked down to see that I was wearing a shirt given
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