Cary stood at the podium in the Austin hotel ballroom, confident. The room was filled to capacity for her presentation: “Selling Homes to Generation Z.” As the owner of her own firm, she was the keynote speaker at the annual Texas Real Estate Symposium. She had flown in two days earlier, prepared to conquer the business stage, and perhaps have a little fun.
Dressed conservatively in a tailored blazer and silk blouse, only Cary knew the smoldering need simmering beneath her crisp exterior. These conventions had always been a mix of work and pleasure for her. And oh, how she needed release, a conquest to match her hunger. It had been nearly a month since her breathless, body-quaking encounter with Brad. She still woke at night, remembering his taste.
As the Q&A session unfolded, Cary scanned the crowd until she saw him. He stood to ask a question: tall, fit, strikingly handsome. Couldn’t be more than a few years out of college. That face, that posture, that body. Her mind flashed, uninvited, to the wicked possibility of taking a younger lover again. It was taboo. Deliciously so.
She forced herself to focus and politely answered his question, but said, “See me up front after. I’d love to continue that conversation.”
As he approached, she casually slipped open the second button of her blouse, exposing just a hint more cleavage. Just enough.
She glanced at his name tag.
“Colt. Like the young buck, before he becomes a stallion?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a smile.
“Well, Colt, that was a sharp question. You’ll do well in this business with instincts like that.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“No more of that. It’s Cary.” She let the name land, slow and deliberate. “Are you local to Austin?”
“Yes, ma…I mean Cary. Went to UT. Played football.”
“Of course you did.” She gave him a slow once-over. “Listen, I’ve been in town two days and haven’t seen any nightlife yet. I leave tomorrow. Would you be interested in being my guide tonight? My treat.”
“Absolutely. I can pick you up at nine, when Austin starts moving.”
“Perfect.” She leaned in, her voice velvet. “What’s the dress code for this tour?”
“Dress to impress,” he grinned.
Cary was already picturing her tight white miniskirt, which hugged her curves with just the right mix of innocence and invitation. The plunging halter would show off her smooth, tanned skin and D-cup cleavage, and the silver necklace between them would give his eyes a place to land. She’d wear heels. Just high enough.
This should be fun, she thought, a smile curling her lips.
…
Cary was waiting in the lobby, looking fabulous. Her hair was swept back, her makeup perfect, her skin flawless, and she was glowing with confidence. At 62, she looked half her age and radiated a mature, commanding sexuality that turned heads without trying.
She was hit on three times in ten minutes, one gentleman asking if she was porn star, Julia Ann. Cary made a mental note to Google her on Pornhub during one of her nights alone back home.
When Colt arrived, she nearly stopped in her tracks. “Dress to impress” must take on a whole new meaning in Texas. He wore dark jeans tight enough to tease, a crisp checkered shirt rolled at the sleeves to show strong forearms, boots polished to a gleam, and that cocky ten-gallon hat sitting low on his brow.
Cary rose, walked toward him with feline grace, and looped her arm through his.
“My, my,” she purred. “You clean up well, cowboy.”
He managed a grin. “You… you look amazing, Cary.”
He led her outside to the curb, where his baby blue 1962 Corvette convertible, a gift from a wealthy alumnus, waited like a prop from a dream.
“OK, cowboy,” she smiled, “Let’s go paint the town.”
“Top up or down?” he asked.
Cary turned to him, her voice low and sultry. “I’ll keep my top up… for now. But later? Who knows?”
Their first stop was Antone’s, a legendary blues club. The music pulsed from the corner stage, gritty and sensual. They tucked into a table near the back. Colt ordered a Jack and Coke; Cary opted for the locals’ favorite, an avocado margarita, creamy, tart, oddly delicious.
She leaned forward across the table often, “innocently” adjusting her halter top, her full D-cups nearly spilling out, a hint of areola, inviting. Colt’s eyes were glued to her chest, and she knew it.
“Colt,” she said between sets, her voice like honey, “What did you play at UT?”
“Tight end for the Longhorns.”
“Hmm. Was that your position… or your description?”
He blinked. “Uh…position.”
She smiled wickedly. “And tight ends have strong, soft hands, right?”
He nodded, catching the drift now. “Yes, ma’am. Didn’t drop a ball my senior season.”
“Well,” she said, swirling her straw slowly, “Let’s hope you don’t drop the ball tonight.”
Next came the Continental Club, a Rockabilly, Texas Roadhouse, country honky-tonk, and even more flirting. Cary had another avocado margarita, but told Colt to switch to plain Coke.
“I want you sharp later,” she teased, tracing her finger up his forearm.
The heat between them built. Colt couldn’t keep his eyes off her cleavage, and Cary wondered what those jeans concealed.
Their last stop: The White Horse. A dance hall packed with boots, short skirts, and co-eds forty years younger. Cary felt a flicker of insecurity for a moment, but it evaporated as Colt never once looked away. His attention was wholly hers.
They two-stepped, her body pressed into his, then swayed through a slow song where she pulled his hands onto her hips, guiding him. “It’s okay to get close,” she whispered into his ear. “That’s kind of the point.”
Later, in the dark corner of the parking lot, they sat in the front seat of Colt’s vintage car. Moonlight glinted off the interior.
Cary slid across toward him, “Let’s see those good hands of yours.” Slowly, she untied her halter and let it fall. Her breasts were full, her nipples already stiff, anticipating his touch. Colt reached for them, kneading, caressing.
Cary gasped.
They kissed, wild and messy, all tongue and desire. Cary unfastened the buttons on his shirt, tracing the impressive sculpted muscle beneath with her fingers.
“Let’s see what else you’ve got, tight end.”
She undid his belt, button, and zipper, then reached into his jeans. What she found was equally impressive.
“Oh… my.”
She wrapped her fingers around his cock, felt the heat, the hardness.
But before she could even stroke once, Colt gasped, then came, groaning in shocked ecstasy, spurting into her hand.
Cary blinked, then chuckled. “Oh my,” she repeated, eyeing the slick mess on her fingers. She held his gaze, and with the slow confidence of a seasoned woman, she licked a little off, then leaned in for a teasing kiss.
“I’m… I’m so sorry,” Colt said, embarrassed.
“Don’t be,” she murmured, licking her lips. “We’ve got all night back at my hotel to get it right.”
…
Back in Cary’s hotel room, the city’s glow filtered through the windows, Austin’s nightlife played in the background, a soundtrack to what was about to unfold.
“Strip down to your boxers,” Cary instructed, as she disappeared behind the door.
Colt obeyed, taking off his shirt and trousers with the anticipation of a man both nervous and charged with desire. He stood in the warm light, toned and young, sweat on his chest glistening.
The bathroom door creaked open.
Cary wore a blue silk gown, barely tied, the fabric hugging her curves, parting just enough to hint at the mystery beneath. Her breasts, full and firm, swayed subtly with every step.
She moved like a woman who knew the value of anticipation.
“Now, Colt,” she purred, walking toward him with her eyes fixed on his, “I’m going to teach you how to be with an older woman. To make love to an older woman. We are in no hurry.”
She knelt behind him, the silk gown rustling softly as she straddled his backside and leaned in. Her hands slid across his shoulders, massaging the tension from his muscles, her breath warm against his ear.
“You look so damn good,” she whispered, her lips barely grazing his skin. “And I want you, Colt.”
Her voice, confident, sent a shiver straight through him.
Cary shifted behind him and climbed to the top of the bed, resting back against the pillows. Her thighs opened just slightly as she patted her lap. “Lie back into me,” she invited.
Colt reclined carefully, the back of his head settling between her breasts. She draped her arms around his chest, hands exploring his firm pecs, fingertips tracing slowly downward.
She found the waistband of his boxers.
He turned his head. Their lips met, soft at first, then deeper, more urgent. She reached inside his shorts, her hand finding his hardened cock. It pulsed in her grasp, hot, eager.
Cary began to slide one hand up and down the length of his shaft, the movement showing her practiced experience. The other hand, playing with the head, bigger than most, before thumbing his underside.
But she wasn’t ready to let him go too far.
Before he could explode, she squeezed the head, slowing the rush, halting his climax, in control.
“Colt…enjoy the feeling… but hold back a bit. Make it last. For me.”
He nodded, eyes wide with anticipation.
He pushed his boxers down and off, his cock thick, glistening with precum. Cary unfastened her robe. It slipped down her shoulders, settling at her waist. Her breasts, bouncing slightly as she moved, nipples tight, the cool air bringing them alive.
She crawled down the bed, feline in motion, kneeling before him, her boobs swaying, wanting to be admired, waiting to be touched. Colt didn’t disappoint her as Cary’s lips parted, taking him in her mouth.
A slow swirl at first, tongue teasing the tip, tasting him, one hand cradled his balls while the other stroked the length with measured grace.
Colt moaned and tangled his fingers in her hair, his other hand continuing to massage her tits, nipples now rock hard.
Cary moaned around him in response, vibrating down his shaft, nearly bringing him undone, taking him as deep as she could. Colt’s hips rose toward her, matching her movements, until he wanted to cum, needed to cum.
Again, she stopped just before the edge, her hand clamping the base of his cock, controlling him.
“Much better,” she said softly, licking her lips. “You’re learning to control the finish. Now it’s my turn. I’m going to show you what a mature woman wants.”
Cary sat at the edge of the bed and slid her thong down her legs. She spread her thighs, inviting him forward. Her pussy, bare, glistening, pink, drew his gaze like a beacon. He dropped to his knees; eyes locked on the promise before him.
He kissed her inner thighs first, then suckled her nipples again, kneeling and leaning into her body. Cary leaned back, one hand reaching down to guide his mouth to her core.
His tongue was unsure at first, then more confident, slow licks and flicks of his tongue on her clit. She moaned, deep, her voice trembling with pleasure. His tongue continued to explore, his hands gripping her thighs.
She brought one hand to her breast, tweaking her nipple, while the other joined him below, guiding him, showing him how she liked to be touched. She was close; her thighs trembled, her breath caught.
Colt continued, licking, sucking, kissing, fondling, bringing Cary to the edge again and again. Cary wanted to release, but held back, disciplined.
“Colt,” she gasped, “This is where I usually cum, but I want to show you how to control that feeling, that urge, the sheer pleasure of the moment. Now, I want to feel you inside me.”
He rose, and she guided him in, seven thick inches of him, sliding home, face to face, her legs lifting to cradle him. His hands cupped her breasts while she rubbed her clit.
Cary was so turned on at the sight of her young stud, moving, thrusting deep into her with youthful energy, that she almost went over the top. She asked him for more, wanting to experience all he had to give. Then, finally, with a moan, she succumbs, unable to suppress the urge, the need, her body rippling beneath him.
“Lie down,” she whispered breathlessly, not wanting to break the spell, the rhythm.
He obeyed. She moved on top, straddling his legs, her tits dangling as she got between his thighs, her mouth finding his cock again. She sucked deeply, moaning as she tasted both of them on his skin. Colt hardened again, his hands unable to resist reaching for her boobs, the vision, every young man’s fantasy, a sexy older woman, a cougar.
Then, kneeling above him, she sank back down on his cock, taking him all the way to his base. Chest to chest, their bodies rocked in sync, his mouth greedily on her breasts.
Then she rose, taking the reins, cowgirl style, gripping his chest for balance as she rode him with wild, elegant control. Her hips moved like waves, grinding and lifting, teasing and thrusting. Colt rising to match her efforts.
His hands gripped her waist, her tits bouncing wildly as she built to another orgasm, crying out his name as she came again, muscles spasming around his cock.
Still not done, Cary had promised him a lesson, and her prized pupil was responding. She changed positions, his cock back in her mouth, still strong, still slick. Then she mounted him again, reverse cowgirl, her ass firm and bouncing as she leaned back on her hands.
He reached up and found her clit again, then her boobs, sending Carr into a frenzy, unrestrained passion. His strokes found their mark, deep, penetrating to her core. She was ablaze with desire.
Then, the sensation overwhelmed her; she could hold out no longer, her back arched, her body tensed, and tore into a third, gasping climax.
She rolled to her back, and he followed, his cock sliding between her breasts. Colt stayed right there, slowly moving in rhythm with her body, savoring the scene, then taking his cock out from her swell to rub her nipples with his head before plunging into her mouth.
Cary took his cock full on, no hesitation, swirling his head, tongue licking his shaft. She felt he was close, but without pause, he withdrew, slid back into her soaked pussy from the side, deeper now, urgent. He was unrelenting in his movements, raw, physical.
Carr had one more trick.
She moved onto all fours, presenting herself. Her hips raised high, her pussy wet and begging. Colt entered her from behind, her clit now under her control, his finger finding her tight rear entrance. The dual sensations made her cry out, rocking her body into bliss.
Now he gripped her hips tightly, driving hard, deep, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the room. They continued as time seemed to stand still, their silhouette cast on the wall.
She reared back against him as he roared in release, plunging deep and spilling inside her as she screamed through her fourth orgasm.
But Colt wasn’t quite done, wanting to prove his manhood
He slipped out, still twitching, and Cary turned to take him in her mouth again, soft now, but sensitive. Slowly, lovingly, she sucked him dry.
Spent, he collapsed beside her. She pulled him into her arms, his head resting on her shoulder.
…
After a while, he dressed, fumbling slightly with his belt as he reached the door.
Cary said, low but playful, “Hey, Colt… you’re a stallion now. Next time you’re with one of those hard-bodied cowgirls, think of me, and give them the ride of their life, cowboy.”
He turned and grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
