1. He Looked Familiar


    Date: 10/16/2015, Categories: Mature, Author: marlowe, Rating: 5, Source: LushStories

    questioning eye searching for reassurance. “Do you like what you see?” she asked, the question somewhat unexpected, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words, a simple ‘Yes’ lost in an urgent gesture of movement and a motioning hand sitting him on the edge of the bed. “Yes. Is that all I get,” she smiled, standing in front of him, the inviting camel-toe almost touching his face, the smouldering heat of passion burning between her thighs, the intimacy of closeness increasing expectation, stimulus reacting to urgent gestures and responsive movements, slipping his finger into the deep groove, teasing the fleshy lips and clitoris, feeling the warmth and the wetness seeping through the fabric, breathing in the aromatic smell of mature sex, the flirtatious interaction awakening senses, her body coming to life. “I need to pee,” she announced, taking his hand, the shameless invitation to follow her into the bathroom somewhat unexpected but nevertheless an offer he couldn’t refuse. A hesitant pause, the urgency to pee brushing away modesty, a deep intake of breath, a shuffle and a wriggle, a breathless pant and a wheezing sigh before pulling the white shorts to her ankles and sitting on the white ceramic bowl, the liquid golden stream falling in a waterfall of raindrops into the temple of bodily functions. A smile lifting the corners of her mouth, an inquisitive eye catching sight of the growing lump inside his pants, an eager hand fumbling impatiently with the zip ...
    before dropping his pants to the floor, reaching inside his black briefs and unfolding the heavy object, gazing in admiration at the semi-erect piece of flesh hanging like a fire hose in front of her face. “Wow, that’s a beauty,” she smiled, pissing like a horse, the gruesome muscle growing rapidly in her hand, digging her manicured nails into his buttocks and pulling him forward, taking him into her hungry mouth, sucking the length from the tip to the root, the silver pendant around her neck swinging in oral rhythm with her bobbing head, sucking him in and easing him out, sweeping her tongue in playful circles around the bulbous helmet, dipping into the oozing eye, feasting on his sticky essence of youth, casually removing a thin stream of saliva drooping from her lips to the bell-end. “It’s been too long. I need to feel a man inside me,” she blurted, letting him slip from her mouth, lifting from the ceramic pan and sucking in gasps of air through her nose, frustrated sighs and filthy curses joining a pantomime of undignified twists and turns, two hands working with the skill of a contortionist, eventually squeezing her middle-aged flesh back into her shorts. He was heading for the bedroom when he felt his shirt being pulled. “Not that way,” she smiled, brushing hair from her face and wiping a smear of lipstick from the corner of his mouth. “The living-room,” she insisted, taking his hand and skipping down the stairs with the eagerness of a teenager, glancing into the ...
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