1. Mrs. Freeman sluts around...


    Date: 6/15/2016, Categories: Mature, Taboo, Author: Tralababalan, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    import of her message. "It's for you," she whispered, smiling brazenly at the young man who, three months hence, would leave his teens behind. He was taken aback. His mind raced to form some sort of retort but ultimately failed. "How late do you work?" she asked, her chin resting in the palm of her left hand. Her cherry red nails gleamed and the diamond of her engagement ring sparkled in the store's indirect lighting. "Um," he stumbled. Olivia sensed his anxiety and rephrased the question. "What . . . time . . . do . . . you . . . get . . . off?" She almost giggled at the double entendre. He looked around the store, then back at gorgeous women standing before him, then at his watch. "Uh. I get . . . . Uh, half-an-hour." Nervously, Matt pulled the credit card receipt from the machine and slid it, the card and a pen toward her. The pen gripped lightly between her manicured nails, her attention focused on the receipt, she said, "Fine. I'll be in the bar at the Palm." Looking up, she slid the store copy back to Matt with a bright smile on her tanned face before putting her copy and the card in the flap bag. "That is, if you want to mow my lawn." With a smirk, Olivia turned on her heel and walked off, her hips swaying provocatively. Matt stood there speechless for a moment, his cock twitching in his pants. Then he tried to make himself look busy straightening up the area around the cash register, but he was really just moving things around, his mind racing. Butterflies fluttered ...
    around his stomach as he rang up a few customers during his remaining time on the clock. * * * Outside Abercrombie & Fitch, Olivia turned and slowly made her way back to the Palm. Ensuring that her friends had left – she had no desire, of course, to explain to them why a young man was meeting her in the bar – she took a seat on one of the stools and ordered a bourbon-on-the-rocks. When the bartender set it before her, she quickly downed it and glanced at her watch. 'Five minutes,' she thought to herself, signaling the bartender for another. Olivia's nipples tingled beneath the cashmere weave of her turtleneck. Random, mid-day assignations were not foreign to her. She had married young, right out of college, and was pregnant, she often joked, before she and Bob had even left for their honeymoon. Though prone to fucking strange men behind Bob's back when they were dating in college, she had remained faithful to him during the first decade of their marriage. The second decade, thus far, was a different story altogether. There was nothing unique about her motivations – limited sexual experiences before marriage; validation of her ability to attract men as she reached into her thirties; the general boredom of the stay-at-home mom. Nonetheless, the incidence of her infidelity was fairly low – once or twice a year – but her daydreaming and fantasizing were much more frequent. And lately, her imaginations had been leading her to younger and younger men. The messages plastered across ...
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