Since my sexual reawakening, I have been the hunted, the prey to strong alpha black males. I never was the seductress, being submissive and, at times, naïve. Yet recently I was introduced to the world of being a cougar, attracted to younger men. Even then, my friend Susan introduced me to the young men at the shore, college men who shared a house while working at the Jersey Shore.
If I want to explore “cougarism,” I must find a way to be the hunter or appear as available while hunting for opportunities. The risk for me, besides the obvious, is embarrassment. I have no instincts, right now, if he was cute and young, then in my mind, I desire him.
A week ago, I tried to find a young man to seduce, going to a food market twenty minutes from my home, to avoid anyone I know. I spotted a young man working the cash register, so I grabbed a few items and headed to his line. Days before I asked for advice on how to break the ice, and it was suggested I put my name and phone on a small card. A few black men handed me a similar card, especially useful with many people around, leaving me to call.
I felt like a bird at the edge of the nest ready for their first flight, nervous, and yet, the rewards looked so good. Two people ahead of me, I was having doubts and my nerves were intensifying. Now it was my turn, I smiled at the young man, Jeff, and nervously handed him my card along with cash for the four items that I did not really need.
He looked at the card and then at me, smiling nervously at his young boyish face. He then handed the card back and said that I was pretty, but if my name was Larry, he might be interested. The line was getting longer, and I just wanted to get out of the store, embarrassed.
My first attempt and the young man was gay, my luck.
Fall off a horse, get right back on, some people say. It took me a week before I gathered the courage and went shopping at another store. I had to go to the grocery shop so why not look? Once again, I went to a shop further from my home, and like usual, all the product shelves were different, taking twice as long.
No one looked appealing, so after paying for my groceries, I spotted a Target department store, so the hunt continued. I immediately spied on two young men, both young and cute, now how to get their attention. I wandered down the aisle and lost my nerve when I passed by the first young man, so I wandered down another. I looked for the second young man, continuing my wandering, wondering, where did he go?
Then I found him and walked up and asked him a benign question about a product. He was cute and when I reached into my purse to retrieve my card, another employee, an older woman called his attention, and he was gone.
I decided that hunting was hard, and I was defeated, so I headed to the exit to go home, dejected.
As I left the store, a man wearing jeans and a button-down shirt called out to me, do I have a moment? I stopped and he identified himself as Tony, store security. I felt a wave of fear, what did I do? I never touched any product, I am not a shoplifter. He saw this fear and quickly said that he was not arresting me, but he was monitoring me, and I had to admit to myself that wandering aimlessly up and down the aisles could be suspicious.
Tony looked me over, a subtle smile appeared on his rugged and said, “I have been in retail security for over ten years, and I have seen my share of cruising housewives.”
He guided me away from the door and continued, “What was it you were seeking? Let me guess, you were checking out the two young boys, weren’t you.”
I could not answer, they looked old enough but maybe they weren’t. Tony let this pass and changed the subject, this time offering his services.
Tony stood close and in a strong confident voice said, “I can leave anytime; we can get a drink if you’d like.”
I was now the prey, a role I am comfortable with, the only exception was that Tony was Caucasian, which generally was not my preference. Yet, he was bold, clearly an alpha male, Italian and I was frustrated and horny. Add to this, my husband called and said he would be late.
Fifteen minutes late we were at a nearby bar, where Tony was known, not a place you would find a Jewish housewife. His hand was on my thigh as I gulped my wine. His hand was near my pussy, outside my medium-length skirt, and I did not stop his motion, I was instead excited. I was the prey again and about to be taken by a worthy man.
He slid his hand under my skirt and felt the outer lips of my vagina. All the while he calmly talked, asked me questions and all I could think about was his thick fingers inside me. He knew I was his, he waited until I finished my wine and suggested a nearby motel. I was ready to explode, his fingers were talented in my now wet pussy.
As we left, I felt eyes upon me, as Tony led away his trophy. It was clear he had done this before and you could see the faces of patrons, in admiration. I was numb to all the attention; I was anxious to be with Tony.
We drove separately at my request, and we drove to a nearby Red Roof Inn, not bad considering some of the trashy place’s men would take me. He checked in and we entered the room, a familiar motel sterile smell, but the room looked clean.
Once the door closed, he undressed me quickly and had me lay on the bed, on my back as he undressed. He was muscular and was above average in length and thick and he was already mostly erect. He had told me he was in the Army as an MP. He has kept in solid shape since.
He leaned over me and caressed my body, from my legs, and inner thighs, passing over my vagina and kissing my stomach and erect nipples, then he worked back down, and his thick fingers touched all the right places in my soaked pussy, I was writhing in pure pleasure. Most men don’t lick a soaking pussy, but not Tony, his tongue darted in and all around, I lost it.
I begged him for his cock, I wanted to feel his large thick cock deep inside me, as my body twisted and convulsed in pleasure. He kept torturing me with his talented tongue, then abruptly he motioned me to get off the bed and, onto my knees, my back against the bed. He moved in front of me and gripped my head tight and pushed his soaked cock between my lips. The taste of my juices was overwhelming as he pushed his cock slowly into my mouth, lifting my head to take him deep.
He started to move faster and deeper, feeling his hard cockhead on my lips and then feeling it against my throat and back again, his grip on my head held me firm.
He spoke strongly and definitely, “Can those little boys do this?”
I gagged and he released his grip and pulled me onto the bed again, turning me over on all fours. He moved quickly behind me and pulled my hair as his cock pushed into my anxious pussy, immediately slamming hard against my cervix. A strong orgasm ran through my body. If this was punishment for wanting the young men, punish me, sir.
He was pulling my hair which allow his cock to enter me deeper, the pain and pleasure were overwhelming, and I did not want it to stop. Yet, I sensed he was ready to come, as his body stiffened, and his moans were strong and loud. Then with a loud growl, his hot seed rushed into my body, he loosened his grip on my hair, and I collapsed on the bed, his strong body on top of me.
We both were breathing heavily, as he rolled off me. Within seconds, he guided my head to his semi-hard cock, and I began to lick and clean his shaft. When I licked his smooth cockhead, covered in my juices, his cock began to stiffen. With that, I gripped my head, and his cock entered my mouth once more. The punishment began again, and although tired, I was eager to continue pleasing this man.
He exhausted himself, as his motions were slower, more relaxed. I knew he wanted to continue his punishment, but his body wouldn’t comply. So, he enjoyed a long slow sensual oral, until he felt he was going to come. He lightly grabbed my head and came, not much volume but thick and tasty.
He rolled over on his side and we cuddled, the punishment was over. He softly asked me if I still wanted the young boys…
