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I Only Fuck MILF’s
It started my first semester in college. I ran into Suzanne, a girl I knew from home. We never spoke that much back in high school. She was always with Tom, her long term boyfriend. But it was nice seeing a friendly face, so we went out for a beer.
One beer led to another, and pretty soon we were both feeling no pain. I walked her home. It started pouring as we reached her dorm, so she invited me in. We laughed drinking beer as the rain turned into a thunderstorm.
I’d never been interested in Suzanne. She wasn’t bad looking, a cute brunette with big tits. But I preferred petite, leggy blondes. Still, she was homesick and lonely, and I was bored. So around midnight, with the rain still pounding against the window, I leaned over and kissed her.
She resisted at first, but I persisted, having gone an entire week without pussy. I thrust my tongue into her mouth, and eventually she began returning my kisses. I brought my hand between us and felt her tits. Shit they were big. I massaged her breast meat and rubbed her nipples. When she started moaning I knew she wouldn’t stop me unbuttoning her blouse.
She wore a plain tan bra with a front clasp. I opened it and gazed at her bare breasts. I’m not a tit man, but hers looked pretty good, shapely without any hint of sag, and capped with enormous erect nipples. For a moment I envied Tom. I caressed the soft flesh of her left breast, and leaned down and sucked her right nipple. Pretty soon I had her moaning and writhing under me.
I pulled down her jeans, seeing a wet spot in her panties. Then I fingered her. She didn’t stop me when I pulled off her panties. It surprised me how easy she was being. She and Tom had been inseparable in high school, and planned to get married right after college. But here she was, opening her legs without much effort on my part. What was going on?
Then I saw tears running down her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” she sobbed. “I love Tom. But I haven’t seen him in months. I miss him so much!”
Understanding hit me. She must’ve been getting it regularly from Tom, but cut off since going to college. She was a horny bitch in heat! “It’s okay Suz, I’ll never tell him,” I said, thinking how lucky my timing was.
I pulled out my cock and rubbed it against her pussy lips. She kept herself nicely trimmed, with just a thin landing strip about her clit. “She keeps herself looking nice for you, doesn’t she Tommy-boy?” I thought to myself.
I pointed my cock at her bare pussy lips, not worrying about a condom. She had to be on the pill with how long she’d been going with Tom. I penetrated her with the head of my cock, pleased to hear her gasp with surprise. I’m bigger than most, so I’ve learned how to ease myself in. Pretty soon I was in to the hilt. Her face and moans told me she loved the new experience of my big cock.
Just then her phone rang. “Oh god no!” she cried seeing the caller ID. “It’s Tom!”
“Don’t say anything, okay?” she pleaded. Seeing me nod, she picked up the phone. “Hi honey, um, I miss you so much, ah, ah, I’m sorry, what did you say?”
It excited me to hear Suzanne try to carry on a conversation with her boyfriend with my cock buried deep inside her. I couldn’t resist rocking back and forth. Suzanne scowled and shook her head violently, but she wasn’t in any position to stop me.
She tried to talk naturally to Tom, but I could tell the fucking was getting to her. I started taking faster, longer strokes, making her face flush with pleasure. Then I reached over and rubbed her nipples, and she moaned into the telephone.
“What was that, are you okay?” I heard Tom say.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, I’m just, ah, I’m just a little tired.”
“You sound strange,” Tom said. I positioned her legs over my shoulders and fucked her harder.
The bed banged against the wall with each thrust. “What’s that?” Tom asked.
“Nothing, nothing,” Suzanne panted into the telephone. She was fighting back an orgasm, but her body wasn’t cooperating. “Tom, I’ve got to go!” she blurted out, her body arching into an orgasm. She let go of the phone and threw her arms around my neck, kissing me as her body shuddered with pleasure. I came seconds after her, pressing her legs into her big tits and ejaculating a huge load of my sperm into her pussy.
Tom and Suzanne got married four years later, right after graduation like they always planned. It excites me to imagine talking to him. “She let me fucked her,” I’d say to him. “You know her big tits you love so much? Her trimmed pussy? She gave them to me. Then she came on my cock, and let me shoot my spunk into her.”
That night with Suzanne changed my life. It opened my eyes to the thrill of fucking women who belong to other men.
Earlier this year I went to the Hyatt next to the airport. The bar was half full, and an attractive late 30s/early 40s brunette sat alone, reading a magazine and sipping a Cosmo. She wore a black dress that ended just above the knee. She had a pretty face and nice legs. Most importantly, she wore a wedding ring.
I sat one stool over, and ordered a beer. “Flying out tomorrow?”
She looked up from her magazine. “Oh … yes,” she answered, surprise on her face. I guessed she didn’t have many conversations with 25 year old single men in bars. “You?”
“No, I live here. I come here for the action.”
“The action?” she asked, looking intrigued.
“Sure, you know, for the girls. You know this is a meat market, don’t you?”
She laughed, motioning at the mostly empty bar. “Here, a pick-up place? It’s almost empty.”
I finished my beer, and motioned to the bartender to get his attention. She stared at my arm as my biceps rippled under my tailored shirt. She blushed and looked away when I caught her staring. “Another one?” I asked, pointing at her almost empty martini glass.
“I shouldn’t, but … well, why not?”
We waited in silence as the bartender fetched another beer and mixed a Cosmo. From the corner of my eye I saw her surreptitiously checking me out. Not to brag, but I’m pretty good looking. Most chicks describe me as ruggedly handsome. I’m pretty tall, six foot two, with a dark complexion and dark curly hair that I usually slick back when I got out. I work out to keep the linebacker body I’ve had since high school. I’m also big in the cock department.
I passed the bartender a twenty. bahis şirketleri “You don’t need to do that,” she said.
“It’s my pleasure,” I insisted, and clicked her glass with my beer. “Cheers.”
“So, this is really a pick up bar?” she asked with a conspiratorial smile. “I never would have guessed. I stay here all the time, and usually it’s mostly empty, like tonight.”
“You’re right. It’s not a place to meet college girls, or 20-somethings.”
She tilted her head to the side inquisitively. “Then what?”
“I come here to meet older women,” I said grinning. “You know, MILFS.”
She covered her mouth, and then began to laugh. “Oh my god, you’re joking?”
“I’m absolutely serious.”
Her cheeks reddened. “So — are you saying you’re trying to pick me up?”
I pretended to study her. “I don’t know. You satisfy the I-L-F. But I don’t know about the M.”
She laughed again. “Well, I do. M for married and M for mom. I have two k**s.”
“Okay, then,” I said with a mock lecherous grin. “You’re my prey tonight.”
“I haven’t been single for a long time. I don’t remember men being so aggressive.”
“Come on, be truthful. You’re beautiful and sexy. I bet you get hit on all the time.”
“Well — maybe,” she said demurely. A smile crept across her lips, telling me my compliment pleased her.
I stood up and offered her my hand. “Come on, dance with me once before you reject me.”
She shook her head. “You’re sweet. Aggressive, but sweet. But I’m happily married. In fact, it’s our anniversary tonight. I’d be home right now, but my flight was canceled.”
I felt my cock stir in my pants. “Ah … so that’s why you’re so dressed up.”
She nodded. “We were going to a play tonight.”
“What did your husband do? Did he go alone, or just toss the tickets?”
“Oh god no. They were too expensive to throw away. He went with his secretary.”
I raised an eyebrow. “His secretary?”
A cloud passed over her face, but she quickly regained her composure. “Well, you know, when I told my husband my flight was canceled, he invited Mandy to go to the play as a thank you for all her hard work.”
“Mandy, huh? She sounds young. It’s convenient she was able to go to the show, on such late notice.”
The cloud returned. I could tell she’d thought the same thing. She drained the rest of her Cosmo, and I motioned to the bartender to refill her glass. “It’s nothing,” she finally said. “Sometimes I think he might be cheating at me, but I know he’s not. It’s just … we’ve been married 15 years, and he doesn’t pay as much attention to me like he used to. And lately he’s been working late a lot, ever since ….”
“Ever since what?”
She hesitated, then finally said, “He hired Mandy about 2 months ago.”
The bartender returned with a new Cosmo, and she immediately drained half of it. The alcohol was getting to her, and I knew why. I glanced at the bartender and gave him a sly appreciative smile. There are all kinds of vodka. There’s the normal stuff, like Absolute and Grey Goose. And then there’s the really hard stuff, the high proof stuff. A Cosmo made with that jet fuel is like 2 normal martinis. The bartender is my friend, so he always does a switcheroo when I’m on the hunt. I figured she’d had the equivalent of 5 martinis in under 30 minutes. That’d get to anyone, especially someone as petite as this MILF.
I slid closer to her. “Do you want to know what I think? I think your husband’s an idiot. If I had a wife as good looking as you, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight.”
She looked searchingly into my eyes, trying to detect any insincerity. I knew she was vulnerable. I gave her my best movie star smile. “I’m not k**ding. You’re a knock out.”
“Stop,” she said embarrassed. “I’m practically old enough to be your mother.”
I shifted my smile from charismatic to reassuring. “No way. Anyway, if you were, I’d call my congressman to make i****t legal.”
“God you’re so bad!” she said laughing.
I extended my hand again. “One dance, just one.”
She looked nervous. “No one else is dancing.”
I smiled inwardly. I couldn’t believe how easy this was getting. Keeping a straight face, I motioned behind the bar. “It’s dark back there. No one will be able to see. Just one dance. Come on, it’s your anniversary, and your husband is having fun with Mandy. You deserve some fun too.”
Mentioning Mandy decided it for her, just as I hoped. She slipped off the bar stool, momentarily revealing a lot of thigh. She really had nice legs. I took her hand and led her to the darken space behind the bar.
I put my arms around her waist, and we danced a couple inches apart. As we swayed to the music I brushed against her, letting her feel my muscular chest. Gradually I pressed my body against her’s. She couldn’t miss feeling my erection. I didn’t grope her, but even with casual touching I could tell she wore a bra and — could it be? — a garter belt. That made sense, as she planned to have a romantic anniversary evening with her husband. Anticipation of having this beautiful wife — on her anniversary no less! — aroused me further, and her flushed cheeks told me she felt my cock throb.
I led her into a stock room and maneuvered her against the wall. Her eyes were glazed with a mixture of alcohol and lust. Through fantastic luck I’d met this MILF at exactly the right, when she was vulnerable and insecure with her marriage. That, coupled with her inhibitions and good sense weakened by the spiked Cosmopolitans, meant that this pretty wife was primed to cheat on her husband.
I covered her mouth with mine, thrusting my tongue down her throat. Passive at first, she soon returned my kisses. She cautiously slid her hands down my back and up my arms. It had probably been a long time (if ever) since she’d embraced a man with a physique as defined and ripped as mine, so she was curious, as well as aroused. I moved my hand between our bodies and cupped her breast. Her hard nipples were evident even though her dress and bra, and she moaned into my mouth as I rubbed them.
I took her hand and moved it to my crotch, letting her feel the outline of my thick cock. She broke our kiss and looked down. “God you’re big,” she slurred in a partially drunken, throaty voice.
I put my hand over hers, showing her how I liked to be handled. “You’ve got a really nice touch,” I groaned. She seemed pleased with my compliment, and fascinated as my asyabahis güvenilir mi cock grew even larger.
I reached down and pressed my fingers between her legs. She moaned as I rubbed her pussy through her dress. With my other hand I took out my cock. “Stroke me, just like before. Shit, your touch is good, you’re going to make me cum.”
I reached under her dress. “I want you to cum with me,” I said as my fingers touched her soaking panties. She gasped as I inserted a finger into her. “Cum with me baby,” I urged as I fingered her.
She moaned as I finger fucked her, with one finger and then two. She pressed her head against my chest. As she panted I felt her hot breath through my shirt. So focused was she on my fingers in her pussy she didn’t notice as I reached behind her and unzipped her dress. She began thrusting her pelvis against my hand. Her body stiffened and time stopped like a roller coaster just before plunging down the abyss. Then, suddenly, her body shuddered as waves of intense orgasmic pleasure cascaded through her body.
She collapsed into me, spent from her orgasm. I slipped the unzipped dress off her shoulders. Startled by the air on her suddenly bare torso, she pulled away, but that only caused her dress to fall completely off her body and land crumpled around her feet. Down to just her lingerie, I got a good look at her body for the first time. Small breasts in a lacy black bra, mostly flat stomach. Her legs were long and shapely, with just a hint of thickness in her hips and thighs. She wore black stockings held up by a black garter belt fringed with lace, black panties matching her bra, and low heeled pumps. Her ass had some jiggle, but it was still shapely. She was hot, a true MILF.
“You’re incredible,” I said honestly. Before she could object I reached back and unsnapped her bra. It fell off her shoulders to join her dress on the floor. Her breasts were small with a little sag — no doubt from breast feeding her two c***dren — but they were nice nonetheless. “Beautiful.”
She blushed in embarrassment, knowing her 40-something breasts were a shadow of the perfect perky tits she had as a coed. “Mandy has enormous breasts,” she said with regret. “My husband gets more handsome every day, and he’s surrounded by young beautiful girls who’d love to have him, and I just get older.”
“You’re wrong,” I said as I leaned in to kiss her. What she said was true and a fact of life, and that reality was making it so easy for me to get into her pants. Within moments I was going to make this devoted and faithful wife into a cheating and adulterous slut, and the prospect of her downfall made by cock throb.
“You’re beautiful and incredibly sexy,” I said reassuringly. I cupped her bare breasts and rubbed her hard nipples. She had just cum, but I suspected she had a longing for something in her pussy, and her heartache and lingering alcohol in her system left her vulnerable to my advances. I pulled aside her panties and bent at the knee — she was more than a head shorter than me — and positioned my cock at her pussy lips.
I eased up, penetrating her with my cock head, and inwardly smiled as she gasped at my size. I quickly pushed two inches in. “Oh god!” she grunted, her face contorted from the unfamiliar large cock inside her pussy.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow,” I said reassuringly. “Not used to something so big, huh?”
“God no!” she cried.
I smiled feeling triumphant. I love it when they compare me to their husbands. Rocking slowly back and forth, I soon had her stuffed to the hilt, then I started moving in and out faster. “I’m fucking you now babe. How does it feel?”
“Oh god it feels wonderful!” she cried in ecstasy. I was hitting places her husband couldn’t hope to ever reach, and she was experiencing first hand why size matters.
I eased her onto the floor, moving her dress to serve as a makeshift blanket. Then I moved her legs over my shoulders. “I’m going to fuck you like you deserve to be fucked,” I said looking into her eyes.
Missionary is my favorite position. I love looking at the MILF’s face as I fuck her, to see her face reflect the ecstasy she’s feeling as I make her cum over and over again. It’s not just the size of my cock, or my ripped body, or my good looks. I know HOW to fuck women to give them intense toe curling pleasure. It’s not an accident or a god given gift. I work at it. My payoff is seeing the realization on her face that she’d never been fucked as good before, and wouldn’t be again, at least not by her husband. That’s what gets me off.
After about 15 minutes and two intense vaginal orgasms for her, I felt myself close. She saw it in my face. “Don’t cum in me!” she urged. I nodded, surprised. Was it possible she wasn’t on the pill? The thought pushed me over the edge. I barely pulled out in time, ejaculating my thick sperm all over her stomach. After cumming, I pushed back into her and my body spasmed with post-orgasmic pleasure.
After we caught our breaths, I grabbed a rag and wiped her stomach. There wasn’t anything I could do for her garter belt, its fine lace soaking with my jism. She looked down at the ruined garter belt and my large, softening cock still buried inside her, and the reality of what she’d done hit her. She started to cry and pushed against my chest. “What have I done? I love my husband, and now I’ve cheated on him. We’ve been talking about having another c***d. We were going to start tonight. It’s our anniversary, and I’ve cheated on him.”
That explained why she wanted me to pull out. “It’s okay, babe,” I said soothingly. I felt my cock coming back to life. “We were both lonely tonight, and attracted to each other. It happens.”
“But I’ve never cheated before, not in 25 years!” she sobbed. “And on our anniversary!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll never say a word, I promise.” I kissed the tears away from her cheek. “I don’t even know your name, he’ll never find out.” She stopped trying to push me out of her. She could feel me getting hard again, and her face was a mixture of heartache, confusion and doubt.
As I comforted her I started slowly rocking back and forth. “Don’t,” she said in an almost pleading voice, but she didn’t try to stop me. I started pumping faster, still kissing her tears away. “Stop, we can’t.”
The first fuck is easy because I’ve got pinbahis the deck stacked in my favor. Getting the MILF to let me fuck her a second time is the challenge. By then she’s mostly sober and sated, and feeling remorse for stepping out. It doesn’t always happen, but when it does it’s so sweet, because it completes her fall from devoted faithful wife to cheating cock-loving slut.
Her face was a window to the passion building inside her as I rotated my hips and quickened my pace. During the first fuck I’d found her g-spot, but didn’t concentrate on it. Now I did, and she gasped as I rubbed it on every stroke. I put her legs back over my shoulders and leaned forward so my cock also rubbed against her clit. It’s hard to do, simultaneously stimulating a chick’s clit and g-spot, but like I said, I practice at it.
Her moans told me she was about to cum, so I backed off. I slowed my pace until her panting subsided, then started up again. I repeated this over and over, getting her to the brink of orgasm, then backing off and denying her release and pleasure.
There’s something you’ve got to understand. It’s a game, and every game has rules. You can always break the rules and win the game, but what’s the challenge in that? No, I follow the rules — I made them up after all — so if I win, it’s a satisfying victory. Here’s one of the most important rules. If the MILF asks me to pull out, I pull out, simple as that. But if she doesn’t ask me to pull out — after I give her fair warning mind you — then it’s fair game.
“Oh god oh god,” she moaned as her orgasm neared again.
I pumped harder. “I’m gonna cum,” I warned her. “Do you want me to pull out?”
“No! Don’t you dare pull out! Fuck me! Fuck me!”
I leaned in smashing her legs against her tits. This let me penetrate her deeper. I felt her body tense and begin to shake. She was cumming, and the shudder of her body and what was about to happen pushed me over the edge. My cock spasmed inside her, and then my potent seed splashed against the walls of her fertile womb.
We laid there for long moments. She seemed in a state of blissful euphoria, still reveling in the intense orgasm she’d just experienced. Then, suddenly, she realized that something was amiss. I’d cum, but my cock was still inside her. “Oh no, oh no, no, no, no,” she cried. She pushed against me. This time I pulled out and stood up. I looked between her legs. Only a trickle of my sperm spilled from her pussy, yet I knew I had cum a gallon. She seemed to realize that as well, and looked panicked. She stood up and rapidly pulled on her dress. She didn’t bother trying to find her bra.
She looked at me anguished. “I’ve got to go.”
I felt sorry for her, and remorse at what I’d done hit me. Wanting to give her a lifeline, I lightly touched her arm. “Listen — tomorrow when you get home, make sure to have sex with your husband. Then, if you get pregnant …”
I left the thought unfinished, but understanding came to her. She nodded her head, looking a little less panicked. “Thanks,” she said. She turned to leave, but hesitated, her body revealing her conflicting emotions. Then she kissed me on my cheek. “Thank you,” she said in a soft voice, then turned and left.
(A few weeks later)
I ordered a beer and scanned the crowd, seeing a lot of pretty young girls. Many smiled at me invitingly. I smiled back, but returned my attention to my beer.
My head’s wired differently, I know I’m strange. Single girls don’t interest me. I look for the older women with wedding rings on their left hands. None of my friends have this obsession. But I can’t help myself. Since that first time with Suzanne, the only thing that excites me is fucking women who belong to other men.
Sometimes I get lonely, and wish I could have a long term romantic relationship. But how would that work? I don’t see how I can have a steady girl friend, yet still get what I need sexually. I’m not the type of guy who has a girl friend or wife. I’m the guy who fucks the other guy’s girlfriend or wife.
I scanned the crowd again, then did a double take. She was looking at me, and our eyes locked. Her beauty was apparent even from across the room. Silky blonde hair framing a very pretty face, small breasted and petite, with long legs. Exactly my type. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Finally she looked away, but I still couldn’t take my eyes off her.
A few minutes later the blonde was approached by another girl. Brunette, cute but not nearly as pretty, a little chubby with big tits. The brunette pulled the blonde onto the dance floor. As they danced, I saw the sparkle of a diamond wedding ring on the blonde’s left hand. I felt my cock stir in my pants.
As they danced, the brunette teasingly traced her fingers up the blonde’s legs, which were incredible. They were a dancer’s legs, long and graceful, taut and shapely. The two were dancing so seductively close their tits were practically touching. The song ended, and I applauded along with the rest of the crowd.
The brunette lingered and playfully curtsied, but the blonde seemed embarrassed and wasted no time disappearing into the crowd. I rapidly looked around, wanting to find her. Then she appeared at the bar, just a few feet from me. I quickly made my way to her. Just as I arrived, the bartender delivered her a new Cosmo. I handed the bartender a twenty. “I’ll get that,” I said.
The blonde turned and her eyes grew wide. She quickly regained her composure. “Oh, that’s not necessary,” she said.
“That’s okay,” I said, studying her. She looked even better close up. I envied her husband, being able to wake up every morning next to this beauty. I felt unbalanced. Was it her pretty face, her lush blonde hair? Was it her small breasts, which somehow I knew were as perfect and perky as a teenager’s? Or the wholesome, bubbly air she exuded? Or perhaps it was her legs, incredibly long and shapely, and firm and strong like a ballerina’s? Or her slim ankles and small feet in her stylish designer heels? Whatever the reason, I’d never felt so attracted to a woman before.
On impulse I extended my hand. Not my right, as custom, but my left. She tilted her head, but took my offered hand. Her small hand was soft, dainty and perfect, just like the rest of her.
“I’m Darius,” I said.
“Hi. Well, thanks for the drink. I’m, ah, I’m Jen.”
I smiled, thinking how perfect her name fit her. I gently squeezed her hand, extending our introduction, and felt the diamond of her wedding ring press against my palm. My cock throbbed. I resolved at that moment to make her mine.
At least until I got tired of her.
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