Seduction

Ann’s D-cup curves and wicked innocence hooked me from our first rain-soaked fuck-date—her plush ass wobbling as she led me to bed, green eyes daring me to ruin her. Those tight dates teased us mercilessly—bare breasts gleaming under lamplight, her pussy glistening through red lace—until she finally dropped that thong with a smirk. “Stand up,” she purred… then took my cock like a ravenous amateur turned porn star.

What began as vanilla exploded into our debauched honeymoon—brutal 69 sessions dripping with her cream, silk-drenched moans echoing alongside VCR static, vibrators multiplying like trophies. We fucked atop suction-cupped toys, shot cum on skin she’d rub in greedily, swapped spouses for steamy circle-jerks… even after divorce, her 2 AM bathrobe visits screamed “Fuck me straight” post-girl-orgies.

Did this insatiable MILF ever choose between slick pussy and hard dick… or just devour both until dawn?

Rain lashed the windows as she traced the Polaroid’s edge, fireplace heat licking her skin—but nothing burned hotter than the image of her stepdaughter’s mouth buried in a blonde stranger’s dripping pussy. Cassandra, home from college, captured mid-feast: fingers tangled in dark hair, thighs splayed, that wicked smile on Barb’s face as she arched into the younger woman’s tongue. The discovery in Cassie’s hidden stash had unraveled her—jeans yanked open, fingers plunging into her own wetness, panties damp with shame and hunger—until the creak of the front door froze her.

“Stepmom? In the middle of the day?”

Too late to hide the gaping denim, the flush betraying her thrumming clit. Cassie’s laughter sharpened to a predatory purr as she seized the photos. “Barb got you this wet?” Her knee pressed closer, nails grazing the stepmother’s inner thigh. “Or was it me?”

The confession hung between them—a breath, a dare—before Cassie’s lips crushed hers, tongue claiming her mouth as fingers shoved past soaked cotton. One thrust, and the older woman whimpered, back arching, thighs trembling…

How far will that depraved little mouth wander when Barb arrives—drenched, grinning, ready to share her prize?

Corner-office professionalism shatters when Carol Parker strides into Bob’s domain—chestnut hair, black pantsuit, and a sample case hiding sins. Her “software demo” reeks of musk, her loaded glances linger below his belt, and her ridiculous panties—plucked from his desk drawer—soon cling to his swollen cock. “Will you do it, or shall I?” she purrs, hand sliding over his zipper’s strained bulge. The answer? A frantic unveiling: thick shaft slapping free, silk panties strangling his balls, her tongue branding him with wet, hungry laps. Corporate espionage never fucked this hard.

Submission masquerades as control when Carol locks the door, forces him into her scarlet lingerie, and swallows him whole—moans muffled against trembling thighs, teeth grazing his throbbing head. How many “clients” has she drained like this? But Bob’s too lost in her relentless rhythm, the plop of her lips releasing him, the humiliation-tinged ecstasy as she milks him dry…only to smirk, dripping, and whisper: “Ready for the next install?”

Will this QA manager pass her thorough testing—or crash spectacularly when she demands deeper access? Click…before the screensaver kicks in.

One of my best friends mothers is about 42 or 43 years old and is absolutely beautiful. She is about 5'7" with long, smooth legs, and perfect breasts that are not too big not too small. They look natural, so they look perfect. She’s the typical blonde soccer mom everyone wants to fuck around. She is a gardener and takes extra care of her bushes for her house and her gardens in the backyard.

Leslie and I had a party for some friends. Leslie is 24, 5'9" slim, but shaped, very sexy with long blonde hair bright blue eyes and 34B perky tits and fantastic legs and ass. She often blinks with her tits after a few drinks and we even had a threesome recently with my friend Steve when we fucked her for hours. She had felt a little guilty in the cold light, but soon she got over it when I assured her again.

When I left college I had a degree in photography, and I was looking forward to becoming a full-time professional. What I didn’t count on was that there were at least 20 qualified candidates for each job. And my sex was definitely an obstacle, because they seemed to favor male photographers. I got discouraged and desperate, then I met Tish.

She was a new model and we quickly became friends. She was the one who suggested I take some glamour shots from her and try to sell them to men’s magazines. She thought being a woman was an asset in glamour photography. I rented a studio and while Tish dressed up, I put the locker room in jeans and a tee shirt, but it was a completely different Tish coming out. Talking about sexy, black fishnet stockings, black lacy panties, a frilly lacy braces belt and high heels shoes, a long string of pearls around her neck, dangling over her breasts. “Would you like it?” she turned her lips as she crossed the room. You think they’re sexy enough? I whistled out of appreciation. She was really a beautiful woman with soft breasts, and a smell of sweetness. If I were a man, I’d jump on her. God!

It all started the day I met my girlfriend’s parents. I was 19 then and my girlfriend’s mother was only 37. I almost fell into lust with her. Her name was Karen and she was six feet tall with auburn hair and the most beautiful pair of legs I’d ever seen. She was sitting on a lounge chair with her legs up and she was wearing a nice short skirt. I was hoping to look under her skirt at that time and there, but I couldn’t make it too clear.

Erica’s first year after college turned out to be very disappointing for romance. She had made friends, but she didn’t find any boys to play with. She went through her wardrobe and chose an outfit for a night in town. First the black stockings attached to a satin garter. Then a pair of almost luminous white panties, followed by a loose silk blouse and one over the knee skirt. Finally some medium heels, a custom jacket, some light make-up and perfume. Erica decided to go to the Max Club, a northern bar that wasn’t too crowded. That night, the crowd was alive as small. It wasn’t long before she drew the attention of a tall blonde man. He was wearing a leather jacket and black jeans. He walked to her table with another bottle of beer she drank.

Sometimes you’re incredibly thirsty for sperm, but unfortunately straight people walk around refusing to give it to you. Even if they have enough supplies, they’re greedy and for some macho reason they refuse to let you blow. I overcame this obstacle, and all I needed was a few simple things: alcohol, a hotel room, and porn on TV. In Canada they are much less shy to show porn on TV, so I took my buddy there ten years ago when we were both freshmen at college. We bought a lot of booze and sat in the room drinking when we watched the porn on TV, we both got super horny in the process. Luckily, he didn’t go to the bathroom and he took his stuff from him there. That would have been a shame, and he was definitely horny enough to do it. I think the alcohol made him a little too tired to get out of bed.

It was a cold, rainy, October day when I was sitting by the photo window waiting for the errand boy to deliver my order. I was thinking of my husband, who served in the Navy, aboard an aircraft carrier. He’d been gone five months and I thought about how much I missed his company, his conversation, his dick. We were only married a month before Ed’s tour started and we made sure every minute counts. We fucked six times a day in so many different positions in that month.