7 More MILF Stories

by Sophie Sin

  I moan long and strong. It's like a wail or a keening sound. I swear I cum, but when she comes back up my dick is still hard and there's no white stuff hanging from her lips, only her own saliva.

  “Get up here.”

  It's a firm command.

  I have her sit side on and start working for her pussy, but she won't let me.

  “My husband will find out.”

  Those five words stop the action cold.

  “Husband?”

  I notice the ring on her finger. It's gold and smooth, no gems, one band – definitely a wedding ring.

  “Oh...”

  She grabs my head and pulls me in real close so that she can look into my eyes.

  “Don't worry. I'm not telling anyone.”

  “But you are married?”

  “Unhappily. Are you going to take this chance from me?”

  I sit there and think very clearly for a good minute. She's not happy with her man, but not leaving. There'll be a reason. Marriage is different from me and Wendy. This woman is older as well. She knows what's up. If I don't take this prize then someone else is going to tonight. She's ready to go by the pussy juice scent in the car. I can choose to stress the details or see the big picture and realize that she chose me and she wants me and her life decisions are none of my business.

  My cock hardens even more. Fucking a married woman is just plain hot as it gets.

  I ignore the ring and reach for the pussy.

  “I said no,” she says. “You can't do me there.”

  That's a downer.

  “Then what?” I ask. “Are you going to blow me more or something?”

  That would also be a downer.

  “I have something else in mind.”

  I didn't notice that she had a handbag until now. It's sitting near the door on the floor. She reaches in and pulls out a small clear bottle.

  “Let me do your dick first.”

  My grunt when she pours some on my cock is loud in the car.

  She massages it in and says, “It's just lube silly.”

  The woman then comes up and leans over me and drops her red panties and pours some lube on one hand.

  “Watch closely.”

  I gulp as her hand travels to her pussy. Why would a woman that wet need more wetness on her pussy – a pussy that she's not even going to use?

  Her hand travels even further back. I stare into her eyes as she slides it further and further around.

  “Where are you going with that...?”

  The woman's eyes squeeze tight around the edges. No... NO... SERIOUSLY, NO-FUCKING-WAY!

  “Ahhhh...” she sighs. “It's a little tight back there.”

  “Uhuh?” is all I manage.

  She slips up and brings herself over me. Her eyes meet mine and she stops and smiles.

  “Do you want to see my tits?”

  I nod and smile like an idiot.

  Her hands pull down the straps of the dress that I would swear my life on that my ex-girlfriend wore that day and rolls them down until her breasts pop out.

  'Pop'. I seriously mean that. The don't bounce; they explode. They don't jiggle; they gush. These things must have been held back behind an iron curtain because when they come out of hiding, they fill my face and leave me with no room to breath.

  “Suck the nipples. Both at the same time.”

  I'm like a puppet and her my puppeteer. I grab both, find them sensitive and large and suck on them hard, grinding a little with my teeth.

  She moans and sinks down on my lap. I feel one hand take my cock and push it back – far too far back – and put it to a hole that is nothing like a woman's pussy. For me this is the first time doing this. I've never done anal, but I'm starting to think I'm going to like it.

  When my dick slides in long and slow through layers of resistance like nothing else, I groan like I'm about to have a heart attack.

  My body throbs. It's like every part of it has been hit by one massive shocking wave of blood. I suck in air, compressed by those huge tits and her lips on my forehead whispering words of wickedness that make it even harder to keep my head about me.

  It's like I'm going to cum and nearly I do.

  Whiskey dick is what saves me.

  No man in his right mind and with a love of older women like what is growing in my heart right now could hold against that ass. It's tighter than sin and probably pink and pretty. There's something completely different about doing a woman's butt. Is it the slickness of the lube? The oddness of the formation of the muscles? How it contracts and squeezes and always seems far too tight?

  I don't know. I doubt any man could answer either.

  We all enjoy it differently.

  And enjoy it I do.

  She rides me as I suffocate in her breasts with her staring down into my eyes with the most rapt expression of enjoyment in her eyes. Her knees dig into my sides and my fingers dig into her butt cheeks. That red dress looks incredible on her as she fucks me silly with her butt. I briefly wonder what Wendy would have been like in bed, but discard the thought. Nothing could be better than this. This is my reward for waiting.

  Five minutes of ecstasy later, her eyes roll up and I feel a wetness on my lower stomach. She slips forward and breaths hard.

  “I came,” she admits.

  These older women... they hold nothing back.

  I put her side on so she can rest and take my position behind her. Her hair covers my face and blinds me as my hips work violently.

  “Can I cum inside?”

  It didn't even occur to me to put on a condom.

  She nods and grips the seat.

  For minutes unknown I pound her ass with incredible violence. It's soft and supple and wide and can take it, but I hammer it with a hardness that can only come from wanting something so bad that it means more than words like I'm tired and My dick hurts a little.

  When I cum, it is magical. My first anal, my first older woman, my first time cumming inside. Just how many firsts can one woman steal at one time?

  I lie there and leave my dick in her butt. She doesn't shift about except to sink down my still hard length and sigh in pleasure.

  “That's a lovely dress,” I murmur.

  I feel her shift in comfortable happiness against my fast moving chest.

  “Thanks. I borrowed it from my daughter.”

  That stuns me. The looks, the dress, the voice. Two plus two equals four. She couldn't be?

  “What can I call you?” I ask after a time.

  “Mary.”

  Her mother's name is Mary. I look up to the roof then down to her and then lean back and let the smile that has been waiting to come out since I suspected who she was a minute or so ago.

  “Say hi to Wendy for me.”

  She doesn't even flinch.

  “I will Todd.”

  I tense. I didn't tell her my name. She...

  For awhile I laugh. She smiles over her shoulder at me and gives me a long kiss. It's an odd thing to do with your ex-girlfriend mum in a parking lot, but it won't be the first time we do it – not by a long, long shot. Sometimes older really is better.

  This is one of those times.

  Hot For Soldier

  (M/F: Erotica Romance, Stud, Cheeky Brunette, Trickery)

  Kate Dane lies flat on her face, her black sheets pushing into her face and the smell of the one that she is pining over – Jake Brightman, her lover and boyfriend – filling her nose. Around her the sounds of her family going about their lives is a reminder of the one that is missing. If the Iraq War hadn't happened then Jake would be lying here with her, his huge arms wrapped around the younger woman's body, perhaps laying a kiss on her forehead and telling her about his training at the base.

  Reaching out, Kate grips the photo that fell from her medical textbooks and turns her head to look straight at it. It was a good day: Jake had an unexpected day off and came over to visit. The photo of them smiling with an ice cream pressed to each other's lips in the park do
wn the road was taken by Harry, a long-term family friend. It's off center because they were stoned at the time. All the warmth and love that she felt that day fills her. 2 years absence starting tomorrow, can she really handle that?

  A knock at the door makes her look upwards. Sarah, her older sister, is standing there with a music magazine under her left arm. As usual she follows the younger generation's family tradition of wearing rock wear around the house (and often elsewhere). She thinks her sister looks great, if a little red around the eyes.

  “You ok, babe?”

  Kate sits up. Sarah's eyes stray across the photo sitting next to her leg. It's clear what she's been thinking about. She doesn't answer. Kate doesn't need to hear it because Sarah understands completely. She's not the only one with a marine for a boyfriend.

  Her sister comes in and sits down on the edge of Kate's double bed and puts her magazine on her lap, the woman's hands crinkling into it.

  “Me and Barry broke up.”

  Kate sits up straight. Sarah's back curves and she rubs an eye. She watches her. What happened? They were so good together. She asks these questions and Sarah explains.

  “He's going to be away for 2 years, maybe much more. The army life is what he wants. If we were to get more serious than we already are, what do you think our married life would be like?”

  “But you love him,” Kate states.

  “Love isn't always enough. I don't think I can stay faithful to him for 2 years and I doubt that he can. We are that type of people.”

  The younger sister's mind is on Jake. She runs a hand through her medium length brown and shakes her head. It would never happen. They are tight. Her sister and Barry are different.

  “Are you sure about this, sis?” she asks. “You can still change your mind.”

  Sarah shrugs. Her reply is silence. Kate slips up and wraps the woman up in her arms. They stay like this for some time as tears fall one-by-one down to the magazine on Sarah's lap.

  “What if this was your last chance with Jake, that after this it would be all over,” Sarah whispers, a sob punctuating it, “What would you do if you knew there was no more time?”

  “I'd go see him and tell him that it's not our last chance and that we will be together forever.”

  Turning around, her sister smiles at her.

  “You know, it might really be your last chance. Iraq is a war. They are going into combat.”

  “I know that...”

  “Then, why are you not trying to see him? If I had the chance to do it over one more time then I would have spent more time with Barry before we reached the point where we needed to have a talk.”

  Jake is on a ship out in the Los Angeles Harbor. He is surrounded by soldiers and guards. Tensions about the war have been high. her man can't leave the ship nor can Kate get on it. With tomorrow being the leaving day, there's really not much that she can do.

  “Think about it,” Sarah says, standing up and making her way to the door. “It might be your last chance.”

  Kate surges through the family living room towards the front door. Her mum, who is cooking lunch in the kitchen, looks up as she passes.

  “Are you going to have some food, darling?”

  The young woman throws up a hand and grabs at her jacket, pulls it on and rushes towards the door. Her mother's brow crinkles, but she says nothing. Perhaps she understands her daughter's situation well enough to know that a little bit of strange behavior is to be expected.

  Just as she reaches the door, her friend Harry Trent steps through the door, holding a fashion magazine. He jerks to a halt as Kate nearly runs into him.

  “Hey kid, where you going in such a hurry,” the short, intellectual sounding man asks.

  Kate blinks a few times, coming out of the trance that she was in and starts explaining.

  “You are going to see Jake? Are you crazy? Those army guys have been arresting people who come to protest the war. Think about what they would do to someone who tried to get on one of their ships.”

  “I have to try. I can't let this opportunity pass.”

  Harry sighs and gives his friend a small smile.

  “I was going to try and put the moves on your sister, but I guess friends come first.”

  “Are you sure? She's single now, you know.”

  Her friend shrugs.

  “Sarah will be impressed if I can get you on the ship. I heard that Barry is out of the picture, but I don't think she needs another guy right now. This is all part of my genius plan to get into her life.”

  The guy has been trying to do that since high school with little effect. Probably the truth is that they have never been single at the same time. Right now would be the first time. Sarah definitely likes him. Kate is tempted to let him have his chance, but needs the help more.

  “Ok, let's go. I'll fill you in on the details as we go.”

  This is never going to work. That was what she said to Harry the moment that he pulled up to the Army Surplus Depot in a small area near where Kate lives in his old beat up pick up truck; however, here she is and it's working.

  “Damn you, marines!” a woman screams at them, spittle flowing from her mouth and coating the side of Harry's brand new camo shirt with his name stitched on the front right breast pocket.

  “Back away,” one of the soldiers protecting the main walkway where dozens of marines are trying to make their way up to the safety of the ship from the large trucks that have been unloading them for the last 30 minutes that Harry and Kate have been working their way through the crowds. No one backs away. The demonstrators are getting agitated. No one has turned up to negotiate with them – to appease their anguish that America is starting another scrap in a country that seemly doesn't deserve it. Stumbling over the hard broken concrete of the wharf area to the ship through these people has been an experience that has been very challenging so far. Every time they think they are making progress, someone will push them backwards towards the large gray warehouse buildings that line pier 22 where Tropic 3, the huge warship that will carry the troops over to Iraq, is stationed.

  Almost making it to the front this time, they are pushed back this time by a fat man and an equally fat, enraged woman that screams that they will never get on to kill the children of Iraq. Harry tries to push forward, but this seems to anger the protesters even more. Four large men turn on them. It is clear by the heat in their eyes that this is going to turn nasty any second now.

  “Step away from those marines.”

  A black man with a M16 pointed straight at the leader walks straight through the crowd to stop behind the four men.

  “If you dare do violence on them, I will order my team to deploy the dog unit on you.” He points back to the German shepherds that are licking each other and sniffing one anothers' butts. They don't look menacing, but everyone has seen those police dog attack videos on the web. The threat is what they could do, not what they are doing. “Stand down now!”

  The three men put up their hands and step away. None of them want anything to do with the tall man, his guard team or the dogs. They quickly move back through the crowd and are consumed by it like some hungry monster eating its own.

  “Are you two insane? These people are on the verge of a riot!” the man shouts over the crowd.

  Dragging them to the front, he orders them up the walkway.

  “We made it,” Kate whispers. “I thought that was going to get bad.”

  Harry glances over his shoulder and shakes his head.

  “We aren't there yet,” he says. “Think about how many men are on this ship. It's going to be next to impossible to find Jake in this mess.”

  Kate looks worried and Harry gives her a reassuring look.

  “I'm just saying that it will be hard. Don't worry too much. We still have about 17 hours before they set sail. That's enough time to find him, for you to say your goodbyes and for us to get out of here before we end up somewhere in Iraq or worse.”

  They walk up onto the main st
eel deck. Men and women are milling about as sailors in white navy gear yell marching orders left and right.

  “How do we find him?” Kate asks.

  “Ask someone,” is the reply.

  Harry hustles up to one of the white clad men and holds up an envelope.

  “Got special orders for Private Jake Brightman. You know where he is?”

  The man glances to Harry and down to his tablet and clicks a few keys.

  “Bay 4, lot 10, bed number 15. Take the main hallway and go down four floors. You can follow the signs from there.”

  Going back to his work, he ignores them. Kate and Harry rush off towards where the soldiers are pushing their way inside the ship and follow along. They soon find a set of stairs and take them down to Bay 4. Lot 10 isn't too hard to find, but bed number 15 is empty.

  “Hey, you looking for Jake?”

  A familiar face pops its head down from the bunk above.

  “Barry!”

  Kate gives him a small hug and he hops down to grab her up in a bigger one.

  Barry is a tall, long limbed gangly man with a cocky smile and an easy manner, who quickly jumps on board with their plan and starts walking them through the ship.

  “I'm surprised they didn't catch you,” he says as he escorts them along the corridors towards the mess area. “It's good though. Jake hasn't been himself since coming onto the ship.”

  Kate nods her head. There was something that happened on their last night together. She doesn't want to talk about it with these two men, but she wants to resolve that tonight. There's a right way and a wrong way to be sent off and she's aiming to give him the best send off ever.

  “He should be in here.”

  They pass through a large steel door and enter into a very expansive space with dozens and dozens of tables and chairs. It is full with marines talking and chattering about anything from the war to the latest sports results. The three of them pass through the crowds and find Jake leaning over a cup of coffee, his blond hair moped down over his crystal blue eyes. Barry claps him on the shoulder and whispers in his ear. Jake grins as the man looks up in surprise to latch his eyes on Kate, who is standing slightly side on, feeling embarrassed by the heat in her man's eyes and the smile that is slowly forming on his lips.