Accidental Cougar

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It was pure happenstance. I never set out to seduce an 18-year-old boy, a school friend of my son, Peter, but that is what I ended up doing, yes, and got a damned good fuck out of it, too. It happened one evening when Peter was out with some friends. I had just come out of the shower, hair still damp, wearing only my robe, still tingling from a self-induced orgasm, barefoot, when the doorbell rang.

‘Oh, shit,’ I thought, ‘that’s all I need. Suppose I’d better see who it is.’ I trotted down the stairs and opened the door.

“Hi, Mrs Weston,” said a familiar voice. “Is Peter in?” Alan, a school friend of Peter’s.

“No, Alan, he’s out. Come in for a moment, I don’t want to stand at the door with damp hair.”

“Sure thing,” he replied, and moved past me into the hallway. I closed the door and moved to follow him. I’m still not sure what happened, maybe the tie had loosened, but I found myself stepping on the hem of my robe, stumbled, and before I realised what had happened I was showing my all to Alan, who had turned as I stumbled and was now staring at me, in what I realised was honest admiration.

“Fuck me, Mrs Weston, but you are gorgeous!”

I looked down at myself, at my freshly-shaved mons, at my bare legs, at my left tit, standing proud on my chest, its twin still — barely — covered by the edge of my robe, then across at Alan, still staring at me.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” I said, wondering what in hell I was doing as I let my robe slip off completely, standing proud and naked in front of my son’s friend.

“I don’t think so, I know. I just have to look at you,” he said. He flushed. “I’m sorry, this is awkward.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “For you, or for me?”

He grimaced. “Both of us?” he said, as I bent and retrieved my robe, slipping it on, tying the sash, noting the slight look of disappointment on his face as I covered myself. I gestured.

“Come on through to the sitting room and tell me why you’re here,” I said, leading him into the room. I gestured to the couch. “Sit there for a moment,” I said, and took my usual armchair. “So, Alan, why are you here?”

“I came to ask Peter if he planned on going to the high school football game on Saturday,” said Alan.

“Probably,” I said. “Do you want to wait to ask him? He’ll probably be late, he went to the cinema with Polly.”

“No, tomorrow will do. I’ll give him a ring in the morning.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him to expect it.”

He took a deep breath “Guess I’d better get myself away.” He grinned. “Thank you for the peepshow.”

I laughed. “You’re welcome.” I’d been thinking furiously, wondering if I dared, but my orgasm in the shower had only added to my lack-of-sex frustration, three years now since my husband had been killed in an accident at work. “Alan, can I ask you a question?”

He grinned. “I think you just did.” He gestured. “Yes, of course.”

“When my robe slipped, and I flashed my all, what went through your mind? Disgust? Admiration? Desire? And I’d like your honest answer, please, don’t worry about offending me, not going to happen, even if it was something intimate and personal. So, what?”

“Honest answer?”

“Honest answer, yes.”

He took a deep breath. “Something on the lines of, sheesh, Mrs Weston is fucking gorgeous, I’d love to get my cock between those lovely thighs.” He flushed and looked away.

“You wanted to fuck me?”

He nodded. “Yes.” He took a deep breath. “I still do.”

I stood, and held out my hand. “Come on, then.”

“Come where?” he said, uncertain, taking my hand.

“My bedroom. That’s where the bed is. The couch is okay, but the bed is better for a fuck.”

“You’re going to fuck me?” A note of incredulity in his voice, and an expectant look of hope on his face.

I laughed. “No, you’re going to fuck me, or we’re going to fuck each other, Haramidere escort but one way or another, your prick is going into my pussy!”

“Mrs Weston?”

“For tonight, call me by my name, Mary, okay?”

“Okay. Mary?”


“Will I need a condom? Because if I do, I’ll have to dash home and get mine.”

We’d reached my bedroom by now and I led him in. King-size bed, the clothes I’d removed for my shower still scattered in disorder on the bed. I swept them up and deposited them in my little tub armchair in the corner of the bedroom. The drapes were drawn against the evening and a low wattage light glowed at each end of the bed headboard. I released his hand and turned to him.

“No, you won’t need a condom, you can fuck me bareback, but I’ll need to fit my diaphragm first. Give me two minutes. You be undressing, and lie on the bed. When I come back I want to find a naked Alan Parsons sporting a nice stiff erection, okay?”

He grinned, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “Okay!”

It took me a moment or two to locate my diaphragm, unused since my husband’s untimely death, but I found it, gave it a quick rinse and slipped it into my now freely-flowing pussy, free-flowing in anticipation of feeling a nice hard prick poking into it, real soon now. I slipped off my robe, took a deep breath, and stepped into the bedroom.

As I’d hoped, I found a naked Alan, laying on his back, with what looked like a very useful erection clasped loosely in his fingers.

“Very nice, honey, very nice, now lay back and get comfortable, because Mary is going to ride.”

“Ride?” he said, puzzled, I think, then his face cleared. “Cowgirl?”

I nodded. “Cowgirl, yes.” I moved onto the bed, on my knees, and knee-walked forward until my pussy was poised over his erection. “Ready, honey?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice a croak. I blew him a kiss then lowered myself, taking an inch or two of his hardness into my now extremely wet pussy. Fuck, but he felt good! I think the soft moan came from both of us as I lowered myself a little further, then lifted to spread my juices, then sank again, this time taking all of him that I could fit. I paused for a moment, just relishing the feel of a nice hard prick in my pussy again, then gave him a squeeze with my pussy muscles. He jerked a little and I grinned.

“D’ya like that?”

“I do, never felt that before, but then this is only my third-ever fuck, and so far it’s the best I’ve had.” He grinned and blew me a kiss.

“Okay, baby, let’s fuck!” I said and began that aeons-old lift, sink, lift, sink, repeat at will of sexual congress. I was wet, getting wetter as I rode him, and his prick moved easily in my pussy. I grinned down at him.

“Okay so far, sweetheart?”

“Better than just okay, Mary, and I think you know it.”

“Guess I do, but let’s make it better. I have a pair of tits up here that could do with a man’s hands on them, but gently, please.”

He grinned up at me, and then his hands came up, cupping my breasts, squeezing gently, his thumbs rubbing gently over my nipples, my very hard nipples, and I let a soft moan trickle out of my mouth. I was enjoying the feel of a solid erection in my pussy, oh, yes, but suddenly I wanted more and I ceased my gentle up and down motion. Alan frowned.

“Something up, Mary?”

I laughed. “Yes, you. Up me!” I leaned forward, careful not to let him slip out, then wriggled so that I could stretch my legs along his.

“Think you could turn us over, honey? I think it’s time you did some work.”

He grinned and hugged me close with his left arm, then with a push from his right arm and a judicious bit of weight transfer by me, in a moment or two I was on my back, his prick still comfortably sunk in my pussy. I stretched up and kissed him.

“Okay, honey, your turn İkitelli escort bayan to do some work. Fuck me, baby, fuck me till we come!”

“Yes, ma’am!” he quipped, and began to move, thrusting into me until his balls touched my ass, then back until he almost left me, slow at first until he was adjusted to our new position, then gradually faster until he reached a comfortable rhythm.

“How’s that?” he asked, never ceasing his steady thrusts.

“That, my young lover, is fucking great!”

He thrust steadily for a few moments, a trace of sweat on his brow, then frowned.


“Yes, honey?”


“Why what, honey? Why am I fucking you?”

“Yes, why?”

I grinned at him. “When I opened the door for you, I was still tingling from an orgasm I gave myself in the shower, then I saw the look on your face when my robe slipped, and then when I asked you what you were thinking and you said you wanted your cock between my thighs? Well, Alan Parsons, at that moment that’s exactly what I wanted, too, so here we are, your cock between my thighs, buried in my pussy in fact, and in all honesty, honey, I’m loving it! It’s been three long years since my husband died, and I’ve missed good sex.”

“I’m good?”

“You’re raw, inexperienced and a little clumsy, but your cock feels great in me, and I want us to keep going until we both come, okay?”

“Very, but I don’t think it will be long before I come. I think I only lasted this long because I jacked off earlier this afternoon.”

“So, you’re close?”

He grimaced. “Yes, I am.”

“Ease up a little, honey, let me get my hand between us. I think my clit needs a little extra stimulation.”

Without ceasing his steady thrusting, he managed to lift himself enough so that I could slide my flattened hand between us, my fingers on my clitoris, and I added my own stimulation to the pleasure I was feeling from prick in pussy. We were both excited, both enjoying the slither of male hardness in hot female wetness, and I knew it couldn’t be long before one of us came. In this instance, it was me, my pussy clamping down on his thrusting prick, my stomach muscles rippling and I let out a gasp as the climax hit me.

“Oh, fuck! I’m coming!” I cried, followed seconds later by Alan’s own tortured cry.

“So am I!”

For a few moment we were both lost in the miniature death called orgasm, my pussy trying its best to drain his balls, his prick jetting his jizz into my depths, but intensity that high cannot last and gradually we stilled, unto there was only the occasional twitch of aftershock. I stretched up and kissed him.

“Thank you, Alan, honey. I needed that.”

He laughed, not quite steady. “You’re thanking me​? It should be me thanking you for my best ever sexual experience, and I do. Thank you, Mary Weston, for giving me the most wonderful experience of my life.”

I kissed him again. “It was pretty good for me too, sweetheart, and if we had more time I would do it all over again, but time’s getting on, Peter will be home before too long, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to find you in my bed. Ease out, honey, and I’ll get a wash cloth and towel for you.”

“Just show me the way to the bathroom, that will be quicker, then I’ll get dressed and get myself away.”

“Through there, sweetheart. Wash yourself, then bring the wash cloth and towel to me, so I can wipe down, too.”

“Sure thing,” he said, scrambling off the bed and heading into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with the wash cloth and towel.

“Pass them here, lover,” I said, holding out my hand., but he shook his head.

“No, you just spread those lovely legs and let me wipe you down.”

I grinned at him as I did as he asked. “You just want to study my pussy, don’t you?”

He gave me a wry Escort Çapa smile, nodding. “Yes, I do. It’s the first one I’ve seen in good light. My other two experiences were in the dark.”

“Well, take a good luck, honey, this is what the pussy of a freshly fucked woman looks like.”

“Intricate, and beautiful,” he said as he wiped me carefully with the wash cloth. I laughed.

“Scarcely beautiful. I’ve examined myself with a mirror and beautiful isn’t the word I’d choose.”

“It is to me, and anyway, isn’t beauty supposed to be in the eye of the beholder?” he asked as he carefully dried me with the towel.

“That’s what they say, whoever ‘they’ are.”

“Well then, it’s beautiful. There, all done,” he said standing back from where he’d knelt to wipe me down. “I’ll just put these back in the bathroom.”

“No, just drop them on the armchair, I’ll put them away. You’d better get yourself dressed, and get yourself away before Peter gets home.”

“I guess I’d better,” he said, reaching for his clothes. I just lay there, still naked, wondering at myself, but hell, he’d just fucked me, and very nicely, too. If he wanted to look at my naked body, let him look his fill. Dressed, he gazed at me.

“The loveliest sight I’ve seen in a very long time,” he said, and blew me a kiss. He reached into his poocket and took out his phone. “Any chance of a photo to remember you by?”

Shocked, I lay there for a moment, but my first reaction had been ‘yes’! Then I had an idea and quickly rolled off the bed and crossed the room to my closet, taking down a box which I’d filled with odds and ends. I opened it. Yes! It was still there! A stretch balaclava ski mask, only eye holes and a cutaway for the mouth and chin. Quickly I pulled it on and turned to him.

“Will this be okay?” I asked and he grinned.

“That will do very nicely. Only you and I will know what the face is like that goes with the lovely body. Ready to model for me, then?”

“Sure thing, honey. Four shots only, please, but how do you want me to pose?”

He pondered for a moment, then looked across at me, holding my eye. “Standing, sitting, kneeling.” He paused, taking another deep breath. “And a pussy shot.”

I laughed. “Pervert! But okay, honey, where do you want me?”

“Over beside the wall, please, nice plain background.”

I moved over to where he’d indicated and took a relaxed, standing pose, weight on one leg, the other slightly bent, my hands resting lightly on my thighs and he took his first shot, then examined it carefully. He grinned, and held the phone out to me. A simple standing figure shot of a nude, masked woman. I looked good!

“Kneeling next, please.” And a moment or two later the second shot was taken. He looked across at me. “Two sitting shots, please, Mary. One with your legs spread to show your pussy, the other, well, choose your own position.”

And five minutes later, it was done. He passed me the phone so I could study the photos. Three of them simple nudes shots of me, standing, kneeling, sitting. The fourth with my legs spread, my pussy clearly visible, slightly open, obviously wet. I passed the phone back to him.

“Enjoy studying them, honey, and remember me with affection, please?”

“Absolutely!” He gestured. “Time I wasn’t here.”

“Okay, honey. Give me a kiss first.” It was a long kiss, some love in it, I think, a lot of affection.

“I’m just going to get into bed, honey. Can you let yourself out? The door will lock behind you if you pull it closed.”

“Will do, and thank you again for the best experience of my life.”

“And thank you, honey, for bringing my pussy back to life.”

“My very great pleasure, Mary, so thank you again, and goodnight. Sleep well, because I certainly will!”

And then he was gone. I straightened the bed, then climbed in, relaxed. Damn, I thought. I should have asked him to send me copies of the photos!

This one sprang almost fully formed from the murky recesses of my mind, inspired by a work-in-progress which I’ve been working on intermittently for two years. I’ll get there one day, but don’t hold your breath. Constructive comment welcomed.

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