This whole thing had taken about 15 minutes, and it was a lucky thing that no one had entered the store during that time, as the door to the street had remained open. I pulled up my pants and went back into the main room, taking a seat in front of her desk. A few minutes later Rosa emerged, looking almost the same as when I had entered the store, though her face was somewhat flushed.
“Now where were we?” she said, and went on to explain the procedure for my trip to Sicily. Then suddenly she stopped and said, “I have an idea! My mother is down from Florence for a few weeks, and has talked of going to Sicily, but she doesn’t want to go by herself. Would you be interested in some fun company?”
This sounded too weird at first to be something I wanted to get involved in, but I asked her to tell me more. It appeared that Rosa’s mother, Elena, had separated from her father long ago and was living by herself in Florence. She had come down to visit her daughter for a couple of weeks, and was putting a crimp in Rosa’s love life—which may have been part of the reason I had been able to gain easy entry a short time before. Rosa showed me a picture of Elena, who was a woman in her 40s but very attractive. She had a small frame, like her daughter, but she also had a pair of tits that—well, if she was walking away from you with her hands up over her head, you would still be able to see the roundness of her breasts on both sides of her body. So finally I said, why not? I would probably enjoy the company, and anyway, she would be paying her own way.
I met Elena on the dock the next day, and we spent the crossing standing on the fantail of the ferry, getting to know each other. She turned out to be bright and articulate, speaking English with an accent thicker than her daughter’s, but still intelligible, and she was indeed a very beautiful woman, with an immaculate sense of dress. Any man would feel great escorting her in public.
When we reached the island we decided to send our bags on to the hotel where we were staying and do some sightseeing. As we traversed the narrow streets we stopped to have coffee at one of the cafés and then looked into some of the stores along the way. During most of the walk we were surrounded by street peddlers who wanted to sell us all kinds of jewelry, leather goods, and a multitude of other products.
The crowd got so thick at times that I kept checking my pockets to see that my wallet was still there. Elena, meanwhile, was being brushed against and fondled by numerous men of all ages as they milled around us, but she didn’t seem to mind.
We were hot and tired by the time we grabbed a taxi back to our hotel. Rosa had booked us both into one room, probably figuring that one was all we would use anyway, and she had been right. Elena and I made no pretense of not knowing what we both wanted. As soon as the door of the room closed behind us we stripped off our clothes, and I ran a hot scented bath for Elena. Even sweaty and travel-stained as she was, with her hair a mess, she still looked gorgeous. She may have been the mother of an adult daughter, but she still had the body of a young woman. Her breasts, large as they were, showed little of the effects of gravity, and her skin showed that she was in the habit of exercising and pampering herself to keep in good shape. She sank into the hot scented water while I went and fixed us a couple of stiff drinks from the minibar.
I was stiff myself when I returned to the bathroom, my cock bouncing around in front of me like a divining rod. I placed the drinks on the edge of the bath and climbed in. As I did, Elena reached up and took hold of my penis, saying, “Bring that lovely circumcised thing to me!” and pulling me toward her, she bent and engulfed it in her warm mouth. She sucked it in this awkward position and stroked it with her soapy hand until I blew my semen down her throat. She gulped most of it, but held the last spurt in her mouth, then rolled it over her tongue, showing it to me before she swallowed it down.
We spent the next hour sponging each other, with me spending much of the time cleaning the folds of her pussy and stroking under the hood of her pronounced clitoris. Finally we got out and dried off, and I carried her to the bed, where we lay naked, wrapped in each other’s arms, until we fell asleep.
I awoke about two hours later and realized that my cock was being licked and sucked. “I really need a big hard cock inside me now!” Elena said as she continued to stroke me and squeeze my balls.
“How long has it been since your last fuck?” I asked her.
“It’s two weeks since I left my lover, Georgio, in Florence,” she replied, “How long for you?”
“Oh, much longer!” I said. Elena then leaned back and hit me hard on the chest.
“You lying motherfucker!” she exclaimed. “You fucked my pretty little daughter just yesterday, you bastard!”
I hadn’t known that she knew that, and hadn’t planned on confessing it. “Well now you have to do a real woman,” Elena continued. “And I expect a long hard fuck that will shake my brains loose!”
I slid down on the bed, and after sucking on those two perfectly round melons until their nipples were standing up an inch tall, I continued down to her well-groomed pussy and began the process of licking her to her second orgasm of the day, having given her a digital one while in the bath. I put my mouth against her vagina and licked my way back and forth from her clit down to her asshole, eventually concentrating on the clitoris until she screamed out her climax. She was very vocal throughout, although much of it was in Italian, and I thought I heard Georgio’s name several times, though whether she was apologizing to him or praising me to him, I could not say. Her cunt was so delicious I could have eaten it for hours, and the pubic hair had been waxed away from her nether lips, making them soft to the tongue. Even after she came I lingered there, admiring and licking that beautiful pussy and her throbbing clit until she came yet again before begging me to slip my meat into her cunt.
I rode her for over an hour, resting now and then on those glorious tits that wobbled from side to side when I wasn’t holding them or sucking on her nipples. We changed positions several times, and in each one she met me thrust for thrust, giving as much as she got. At one point I stuck two pillows under her bottom, raising her gorgeous cunt so I could get the deepest penetration as I pistoned my rampant dick deep inside the grasping walls of her love canal. She hooked her legs over my shoulders and spurred me on with her heels, in much the same way as her beautiful daughter had done the day before.
Elena came at least once in each position. At the end she was sitting on top of me, facing my feet as she was impaled on my prick. I was reaming her asshole with two fingers as she rode back and forth on my weary dick. Finally I could hold out no longer, and as I shot my wad into her cunt she sank back, coming one more time with a cry of exhausted satisfaction.
By now it was almost nine in the evening, and the cafés were just beginning to serve the evening meal, so we dressed and went out into the town. We both smelled of sex, and I was sure that the people in the café could tell that we had been fucking the evening away. Elena sat opposite me at a table, and as we dined on the delicious local cuisine, she kicked off her shoes and, resting a foot in my crotch, massaged my balls all through the meal. All I could think of was that we still had two more days here before I had to return and go on with my travels.
—S.G., Austin, Texas
Her Project Was the Study of Older Women With Younger Men
I was 40-something when my husband and I divorced. We sold the house, divided up the assets, and went our separate ways. He moved in with his 20-something sweetie, and I found an apartment near the university, with hardwood floors, a fireplace, two bedrooms, a kitchen with a laundry area, a breakfast nook, and a sun porch. All things considered, I think I got the better deal.
I already had a degree in accounting, and now I signed up at the university for the executive MBA program. Along with the required business, law, and management classes, I decided I’d also take a course in women’s studies, just for the hell of it.
On the first day of classes, I was surprised to see how many young men had enrolled in the women’s studies course. I wondered how many were ser
ious about that subject, and how many were there to hustle chicks.
At the start of the class we were each asked to introduce ourselves and explain why we were taking women’s studies. I told the class that I was a single mother of adult children, and as a middle-aged divorced woman I wanted to get in touch with what modern women were thinking and experiencing.
Most of the young men mumbled something vague and meaningless when their turn came around. But my attention was caught by a willowy young man named Darren, who said that he wanted to better understand women. Several people giggled, and Darren blushed.
“Sure, Horse,” one of the jocks teased. “Come on, you’re just here because it’s a target-rich environment.” Most of the guys and some of the coeds laughed out loud. Poor Darren was crimson. The instructor quickly put a stop to the teasing, and the class went on.
Later that semester we were assigned to do a research paper on a topic of our choice, for which we had to team up with another member of the class. As my topic I chose the dynamics of relationships between older women and younger men. After I had announced this, Darren came up to me after class one day and asked if he could be my partner. I was flattered, and told him sure.
We met for coffee later that same week, then went to the library to do research. I was wearing a black micro-fiber top that advertised my full breasts, and snug white pants that showcased my derriere and legs. I work out three times a week at my spa, and watch what I eat every day. I knew I had Darren’s attention, and I gave him a good look at my backside when I bent over to pick up my book bag at the coffeehouse.
But at the library we were all business. We did our research, checked out some materials, and agreed to meet the following week to work on our outline. I invited him to my apartment for dinner and to work on the assignment. Darren was excited and eager as a spaniel.
He presented himself promptly at six on the appointed night, bearing flowers and a bottle of wine. I had tossed a salad and fixed veal Marsala for dinner, and tiramisu for dessert. Darren was very impressed, but I could see he was nervous. I don’t think he had any idea what to do with me. But I had some ideas of my own.
We drank the Chianti he’d brought with the meal, and over our coffee and dessert I asked him, “So, Darren, why do they call you Horse?”
Darren blushed furiously and shrugged, avoiding my eyes. “I don’t know,” he said in a small voice. But obviously he did, and didn’t want to tell me.
“Let’s go in the living room and I’ll make a fire in the fireplace,” I said. He parked on the leather couch facing the fireplace, and I lit the gas log, then joined him there, leaving a small but respectable space between us.
I was wearing a rayon floral print dress, a little too summery for the season, but revealing enough to be worth a shiver now and then. Besides, it kept my nipples erect, their shapes visible through the thin material of my dress and bra. Underneath I was wearing nylons and a garter belt, along with black panties. Men usually liked me to keep the stockings on after the panties came off.
When I was in college the first time, if you wore black panties on a date it meant that you were willing to have sex. As I’d snugged them around my hips earlier that day, I’d wondered if that tradition was still alive. I hoped that it was.
“Would you like a cordial?” I asked Darren.
“Uh … sure.” I didn’t think he had any idea what that was. I went into the kitchen, my hips swaying just for him, and returned with two snifters of Courvoisier.
He watched while I swirled the amber liqueur and inhaled the aroma, then took a small sip. Darren imitated what I’d done. Then he coughed violently and made a face. “Oh, my God!” he rasped.
“It’s an acquired taste,” I smiled. Darren laughed, and so did I. And as we laughed together I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my chest against him. I snaked my fingers into his hair and pulled his lips to mine. I felt hesitation in his kiss at first, then tentative eagerness. I explored his thick blond curls. He kissed me harder, and I opened my mouth in blatant invitation.
Darren pulled back and gazed into my eyes, his hand tentatively caressing my auburn hair. “Are you sure?” he asked me.
I nodded and smiled. Then I took his hand from my hair and put the palm right on top of my full firm breast. His fingers closed around my flesh and he rolled the sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I closed my eyes and sighed in anticipation.
I pulled him on top of me as I lay back on the couch. The crotch of his pants pressed against my thigh, and something between us felt like a three-cell flashlight.
We lay there for a while, kissing and caressing, and I was getting nudged more frequently by the hard thing stashed in Darren’s pants. Anxious to explore this mystery, I wriggled out from under him and sat up on the couch, then turned and presented him with the zipper at the back of my dress. Slowly he slid the zipper down and slid the spaghetti straps off my shoulders. I stood up and the dress fluttered to the floor, leaving me in my nylons and sexy black underwear.
I tugged at his belt and unfastened the waist of his chinos. Then I unzipped his pants and pulled them down enough to see that he was wearing white cotton briefs. The bulge in those briefs looked like a softball. I slid my fingers under the waistband and peeled his undies off.
I don’t think I’d ever seen anything that big on anyone as young and slightly built as Darren. And now I knew why they called him Horse.
It had to be almost ten inches long, and as thick as my wrist. I stroked it slowly, and an oily drop of precome oozed out of the slit in the fat purple head.
“Jesus!” I said. “It’s huge!”
“We don’t have to do anything,” he said, “if it’s too big.”
“Oh, I think we can manage somehow,” I said. “Or give it a damn good try.” And with that I bent down and slid my mouth around his monumental manhood and sucked him for all I was worth.
I bobbed my head up and down and slid my tongue around his glans. I licked his balls, which were about the size of goose eggs, and pumped his shaft. Then I went back to work trying to get as much of him into my mouth as possible.
“I’m going to come! I’m going to come!” he gasped. His hips arched as he pushed his big thing clear to the back of my throat. I felt it twitch again and again as he came in my mouth. With some effort I managed to swallow down all his jism. When he relaxed I gave his cock one last suck and let him slide it out.
“It’s my turn,” I said.
I lay back on the couch and lifted my hips for him to peel off my panties. As he slid them over my feet, he held them to his face and sniffed my musk. I felt very proud when he closed his eyes and sighed in erotic satisfaction. Then his face was between my thighs, his mouth doing for me what mine had just done for him.
I wanted to hold out, to make it last. But in less than a minute I exploded in a wild orgasm. I held his head between my thighs and pushed my spasming pussy hard against his eager face, my juices filling his mouth as he licked them up like a kitten lapping cream.
But we didn’t stop there. Darren continued to lick and suck me until I came for him twice more. That’s another thing I love about being a woman—multiple orgasms.
“Are you up for another turn?” I asked him finally. I checked his crotch. Oh, boy, was he ever!
I lay back on the couch then and spread my legs for him. Darren mounted me in the missionary position. Between my legs I was thrumming with anticipation. You haven’t lived, let me tell you, until you’ve been mounted and penetrated—especially by a cock like that!
I felt him probing for the entrance to my slit. I slid my hand between our bodies and guided the slippery organ to the right spot. I raised my hips, and he lunged. The head of his dick popped through the entrance. He pushed again, and a few more inches found their way inside. He withdrew a little and slowly began pumping, gaining more territory with each thrust. The delicious friction of our fucking was driving me wild with lust.
“Oh, fuck me with it!�
� I snarled. “Fuck me with your big thing!”
He grunted and his pace increased.
“I want you in me!” I raved. “All the way inside! I want every inch! Every fucking inch of that big cock! Fuck me with it!”
And he did.
When I felt his balls slapping against my squirming butt, I knew with an erotic rush that I’d taken every bit of him inside my body.
“Come in me!” I begged him then. “I want to feel your come in me. Squirt your stuff all over in there!” I don’t think I ever wanted it so badly in my life. Not from my first real boyfriend, who took my virginity, or from my husband, or from the black fullback in college who fucked my brains out on the back seat of my dad’s GTO.
I felt my orgasm building, and then it swept through me like a tidal wave. I squeezed my eyes shut and the universe exploded. On and on it went, until I was sliding down the other side.
Darren pushed all the way into me, and I cried out with another climactic jolt as I felt him fill me with his sperm. Then he lay on top of me while we both caught our breath.
After that we took a shower together, and spent the night in each other’s arms. The next morning we fucked again like newlyweds, and I fixed him eggs Benedict for breakfast.
For the remainder of the semester we spent two or three nights a week together. Sometimes we fucked on the leather couch in the living room, sometimes in bed, sometimes on the table in the dining room, or with me against the wall in the foyer, or bent over the kitchen counter with Darren filling me from behind. And that was just for starters.
Just for the record, I did get my MBA—and Darren and I earned an A for our women’s studies project.
—B.I., Columbus, Ohio
Two Randy Interns Aim for Two Hot Married Guys and Hit the Target
I’m back at college now, after taking a semester off to do an internship with a big company out of state. I went down there with another girl from my school named Nina. I didn’t know her very well at the time, but she had an internship with the same company, so we arranged to room together, and we quickly became good friends.
Letters to Penthouse XXXIII Page 7