March 19, 2008

Afternoon Delights

On my way back from lunch today, I saw a sexy woman pushing a baby stroller down the sidewalk. She was wearing tight yoga pants and a size-too-small white hoodie, and her silky brown hair was pulled back into a pony tail. I didn't get a look at her face, since she was walking the same direction I was driving, but I really doubt she was anything less than stunning.

There's something about young, sexy moms that really gets me going. MILFs have a certain sexiness about them... kind of like a "I don't get nearly enough sex" kinda vibe. Or maybe it's the mystique that someone like me automatically applies to them. A mystique about their hidden passions, their forbidden desires. Those urges that this wholesome, loving, caring mother might be afraid to show to even a limited public. It's like by dressing passively suggestive - in this case, the yoga pants and hoodie that deliciously show off her slender waist and tight little ass - they're saying, "just get us alone and I'll do things to you that would make a porn star blush!"

But maybe that's just me.

By the time I'd driven past her, I was already forming scenes in my mind. For example, perhaps when she got home she'd put her baby down for a nap and once the little tyke was asleep, there'd come a knock at the door. She'd open it and there would be an attractive man named Christian there; a man that wasn't her husband. She'd let him in, and once the door closed them from the prying eyes of her neighbors, their lips would lock and clothes would start to fly.

Doubts would creep into her mind; she shouldn't be doing this, she was a married woman, he was a married man... But her husband rarely made love to her anymore. She was at the height of her sexual prowess, and she needed to be satisfied. And she knew that Christian's wife couldn't suck cock like she did; he'd told her after the first time she'd swallowed his load.

So they both had needs that their spouses couldn't fulfill. So why shouldn't they help each other out? That's what good, kind-hearted people do, right?

But any thoughts of impropriety or infidelity always fled her mind the moment she freed his member. Christian was considerably bigger than her husband, and knew how to use his glorious tool to both their benefit.

Normally, she would drop to her knees and suck the thick, throbbing cock until the warm, slippery semen filled her mouth. But today, she had other needs burning deep in her belly.

"Fuck me," she would whisper into his ear as she stroked his shaft. "Fuck my hot, smooth, dripping pussy." She'd turn and lead him by the cock over to where her husband usually sat to watch TV. She'd lean forward, arching her back to give Christian the best possible view of her toned ass and freshly-shaven pussy.

With her face buried in the cushion of the chair to muffle her screams and moans, the man that is not her husband would drive his cock into her neglected pussy, pounding, slamming, ramming into her harder and faster until the one final scream would herald her crashing orgasm. Clenching and spasming around his piston, her climax would drive Christian to his own, and within seconds his warm seed would fill her.

They'd play a little more, maybe she'd suck his cock clean, maybe he'd lick her clean. Sometimes they would help each other get dressed. Then with a deep, passionate kiss and a final squeeze of her ample breasts, Christian would reach into his pocket and hand her the twice-folded bundle of six one-hundred dollar bills before slipping out the door.

She usually had an hour, after Christian left and before the baby woke up, to relax and get dinner started.

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