September 30, 2006
Ever since I got interested in sex I’ve had these fantasies about older women. Women in their 30’s and 40’s just seem to have that special something that most younger girls miss. At first I tried to convince myself that it was something wrong. I tried having relationships with girls my age but now that I’m 22 years old, all of that has changed…
It happened on a rainy afternoon out here in The Netherlands. After attending a boring lecture on economics at the university I decided to go shopping for a new pair of jeans. During the lecture my mind drifted off to the subject of sex several times and I was horny as hell. Walking through the town of Rotterdam, seeing all these mature women shopping only made it worse. When I finally got to the small jeans store I had in mind, I was actually so hot that it was hard to hide.
As I entered the shop I noticed there wasn’t anyone there. Therefore I started looking around myself. Suddenly I heard a very soothing voice behind me. “Hello, can I help you sir?.
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September 29, 2006
Massage of Pleasure.
AS I gazed upon his naked body before me . I heard his words command me to massage him. “Long and deep” he said “I don’t want to be sore when your done. I want to be relaxed” he again commanded.
With shaking hands I reached for the oils, he had prepared. He lay prone upon the hard bed as I studied his youthful body. His ass was soft and yet firm, round and yet angular. His legs and arms muscular. I wanted to run my hands over him and feel his angles and muscles. I denied myself and sat upon his sweet ass, so I could reach his head, neck and shoulder and began my massage. I could feel the heat by the time i moved down to his lower back and ass. My lips were chattering as I touched him.
I was trying my best not to feel this way. Thinking of all the things I had to do.. all the places I could be,, but my hands were the leaders not my mind.
I felt my nipples tighten against my bra. I felt the warmth between my legs as my lips parted as i straddled him. I sat on his leg t
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September 29, 2006
Matt Simmons stood by Mrs. Hammond, holding her hand as her husband’s coffin was lowered into its rain filled resting-place. Matt held her sobbing body close as the rain poured down on the crying mourners. He had been killed in a horrible car accident only 3 days ago. Matt could feel Mrs. Hammond’s body shaking as he held her delicate, mature hand. Matt and Mrs. Hammond had always been very good friends and the last 3 days had brought them even closer.
Mr. Hammond had been a very respected college professor at the local college. His students loved him more than any other professors. He and Mrs. Hammond had been married for 30 years. She had depended on him for everything. He did the checkbook, paid the bills and any other things that needed tended to.
“What am I going to do, Matthew?” Mrs. Hammond sobbed on Matt’s strong shoulder. “He did everything for me.” She sobbed wrapping her arms around his back. She didn’t care what any of the other mourner’s thought she needed to hug a man.
Matt wi
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September 29, 2006
Vikki came into my life through a business venture of mine. I had to make some contractual agreements with several not for profit organizations so they’d agree to lend me certain information that they had in their possession. Vikki put the contracts together so I wouldn’t get myself into legal trouble. I was expecting to get a 60-ish balding lawyer when I contracted her firm for legal services and instead they sent her out. When we first met she was dressed quite smartly, as one would expect, and conservatively enough to satisfy even the most up tight executive.
Vikki is a leggy Italian woman with auburn hair, gorgeous eyes and lips, and a figure that doesn’t quit. She got my attention when she walked through the door and it was difficult maintaining eye contact. I had to, of course, as we had far too much work to do for me to be more than a little distracted.
She’d arrived at my office just before ten in the morning. We sent out for lunch and when six rolled around that evening we still weren’t do
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September 28, 2006
© Prahaar 2006. All rights reserved.
Author’s note:
Please read ‘2927 Vadodara Express – Chapter 1′
Some of the sexually significant dialogue is in Gujarati or Hindi to preserve the original flavor. Every word has been translated into English.
Thank you for all the feedback, comments, requests, story ideas, encouragement and exhortations to write more. They have motivated me to continue writing. Keep ‘em coming.
I really do appreciate the time you take to give me your opinions. I love hearing from my readers, particularly women! The more mischievous the greater fun! Who knows where that might take us!
At the end of Chapter 1:
I had no idea that women did this. And the sight of a fully grown woman pleasuring herself four feet away from me, excited me beyond any previously known limits. I had been at the boiling point for the last several minutes and the dam was ready to burst. I tugged and rubbed my rampant cock as best I could over my trousers. I soon came in my underpants. For
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September 28, 2006
There was actually a time that I wasn’t looking forward to my 45th birthday. Frankly, I don’t think I encountered any woman that would.
Perhaps, though, if I could have seen into the future of how it actually did turn out, I might have projected a little more enthusiasm. But at first, it was impending gloom and doom.
After 21 years of marriage, I was recently divorced from my husband, Mike. Things hadn’t been that great the last five years or so, but we had tried to make it work until at least our daughter Pamela, 19, graduated from college.
I thought for awhile things might get a bit better; Mike and I had even had a marathon lovemaking session the night before things went to hell.
The bottom had dropped out for me when I had come in from a “girls’ day” with my friends the day after we’d had our endless lovemaking session, a little tired from both it and the afternoon with my friends.
I had come into the house to look for Mike, only to find my 47 year old husband having sex on our sof
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September 27, 2006
A Day at the Beach, Tall and Handsome
Susie and I have been friends for years. We decided to take a drive down the coast and go to Newport Beach.
It was a beautiful day, the end of the summer, school was back in session and this was our last week before going back to teaching school.
As we strolled down the Boardwalk, we stopped to watch a volleyball game.
“Look at those pecks on that dark-haired guy, Susie.”
“Nancy, you’re a forty-year old woman. What exactly are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I would like some of that ass, Susie. How about you?”
“You’re disgusting Nancy. You’re mind is always in the gutter.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it, Susie!”
“You haven’t been with a guy that young, have you Nancy?”
“No, but I have been out with a 29-year-old I worked with.”
“And?” asked Susie.
“And, none of your business if you are going to be so judgmental!” I exclaimed.
***
Susie had been married for years. She married at 46 when I was only 33. WHEN
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September 27, 2006
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
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September 27, 2006
My name is Carlos; I’m 45 years old, born and raised in the San Fernando Valley. I’ve been married but divorced now and living alone with no kids. I want to tell my story. I’ve pretty much kept to myself since I got divorced. The old lady and me still get along but the love has gone. Guess that are why we split from each other. I have not had very much experience with women outside of my race though I have dated black ladies. I have never been with a white woman; I have never been with a blond. I own a small landscaping company that also doubles as a lawn care service. I like being outside in the sun. My skin is tanned a deep brown, I’m built ok but I’m no Arnold, I have a slight pouch, maybe from the beer I drink. I don’t think I’m that bad to look at though.
My crew and I were working one day on the West End of the valley at a new construction site when all of a sudden a blond lady walked out of the building. She was not a young girl; she must have been about thirty years old. Still a lot younger
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September 26, 2006
A fat black old woman story: I should have known better.
Yes, I should have known better going into that dark, desolate alley by evening, just to take a shortcut home. It was stupid because the save way home was just a 10 minutes longer walk. But sometimes I don’t understand myself and do such stupid things like this. And this is the result, an fat black woman of 63, standing here with mixed emotions in that dark, desolate alley, her blouse unbuttoned, her large boobs hanging out of her big bra, her skirt around her ankles, her underpants torn and sperm of two horny young white men dripping out of her fat black pussy. And what’s more shaming was my behaviour in this. Let me tell you about it.
I have a good life. Being a widow for 14 years I managed, after my husband passed away, to pick up life again. For a few years I’m retired now and enjoyed the days because I’m busy enough with my hobbies. What’s disastrous for my weight is my cooking hobby; I’m fond of cooking and tried every recipe of the ma
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