She Was Fifty but She Was Fine, and He Was More than Ready

I was just back from a tour overseas and its accompanying sexual drought, so I was primed.

My first night home I went to a bar. As my eyes scanned the dimly lit room, they lighted on a dress as skintight as my jeans. That dress revealed sleek legs and the kind of curves that I’d been missing for a long time. It also contained boobs that looked ready to spill out onto the bar in front of her.

Despite skillfully applied makeup, I could damn well see that she was at least fifty, but that didn’t deter me. I quickly moved to sit on the stool next to hers, and her way of welcoming me was to rub her thigh against mine as she introduced herself as Sharon. I saw the wedding ring on her finger, but I didn’t give it a second thought.

By the time her wandering hand had slid most of the way up my thigh, she knew all about my trip to the desert. “What about sex?” she asked. I told her that had been a desert, too, and she replied that she knew what I meant, since her husband didn’t seem to have time for her lately.

My hand dropped to her own thighs, which were encased in tan nylon pantyhose, and as I slid my hand upward, they parted slightly, then clamped shut again, trapping my fingertips close to her pulsing pussy.

Time to cut to the chase. “Do you live nearby?” I asked.

We were out the door in seconds. She did live nearby, and the moment her door closed behind us, she got me in a hot lip-lock, her tongue busy in my mouth. My eager cock was hard and heavy, and I knew she could feel it jumping between my legs.

Right there in her front foyer, she pulled her skirt up and put my hand between her thighs. Through her pantyhose and white panties I could feel how wet she was, and I could even smell the musky scent of her.

“Push my pantyhose down,” she panted. I did so and took her panties with them, and she pulled one foot free of them as I dropped my jeans and shorts. She raised one leg, and I aimed my cock at her entrance. The hard tip felt her heat and wetness even before I penetrated her. She moaned as I went into her, wiggling her ass to encourage deeper penetration.

Locking her hands behind my neck, she wrapped her legs around my hips and backed me against the wall as she began an awkward riding motion. Her tongue went wild in my mouth again as I ran my hands all over her. I began fucking her harder, then turned us so that it was she who was pinned against the wall. I drove into her as she wailed and sobbed, and I felt her cunt throb just as I erupted and sent wave after wave of sperm deep inside her.

We collapsed to the floor and lay gasping for several minutes before we had the strength to make it to the bedroom. There she deep-throated my cock with a mouth so talented it would be the envy of any woman half her age. God, she was good!

I was soon ready to rip into her pussy again, but before I did so I wanted to taste that mature pussy. I pulled her off me and slid down to eat her musky cunt. I tasted my own come as I brought her to another climax, one that had her soaking my face with her squirting juice.

Then, as she was still recovering, I climbed on top of her. This time, since I’d come once already, I lasted way longer, and we enjoyed a nice, long, leisurely fuck. Her snatch was still tight and hot as I rode her missionary-style, then doggie-style, then missionary again. All the while her pussy walls flexed and twitched around my shaft, until finally I gave her my second load.

I spent the night with Sharon, and we did it two more times, then once in the morning before I had to leave. She gave me her number, but when I called her husband answered, so I said I must have dialed a wrong number and hung up. I haven’t tried since then, but I’ll sure be ready for her if I ever see her again.

—D.S., Oklahoma City, Oklahoma