He’s only fucking twenty-one! I think when I hear him tell me his age. His ad said twenty-two. That was a bad enough difference from my forty-seven. He definitely didn’t look it, but his voice rang like a man recently out of his teens. But I knew I wanted him the first time I saw his face pic. And I knew I’d fuck him on our planned meet after he sent me another. He was beautiful: soulful brown eyes, thick eyebrows, and juicy lips hid slightly behind his full beard. His hair was pulled back so, so I knew it was long, and I loved that. He told me he was mixed, and his look felt middle eastern. But he was Native, North African, and Italian. It was quite the perfect mix.
We started chatting on a Thursday, and by Saturday, I’d already planned to meet him the following Tuesday. We talked through the whole weekend. I was actually away with my husband on a weekend trip, and I still kept texting him. Something I never do. But he was so engaging, and I found myself really enjoying our conversations. Mainly because they weren’t just about fucking. I mean, connection and chemistry are everything, right?
I kept looking at the selfie he sent me that Saturday. And like I said, I knew I was gonna fuck him, but I tried to tell myself I would just do my usual meet and greet. That consists of meeting up in a public lot, making out, and usually a blow job because I have to sample the dick. I did mention I was a slut. BJs don’t count, right (LOL)? But I fucking wanted him. He had a nice size dick, he was sexy as fuck, and I got seriously good vibes about him through our text. The spidey tingle was in full effect.
So Tuesday morning rolls around, and he says he has to Uber to our meet-up spot. No car. Not a big deal, I tell him I’ll pick him up from a fast-food spot near my house. As he walks up to my car, I have to chuckle because he looks like a total hippy. Bucket hat, baggy jeans, and rainbow crocs of all things. I joke and tell him his look is very “homeless chic” and ask what happened to the sweats I asked him to wear. He says his jeans were practically sweatpants because of how loose they were. And he added, “I did remember not to wear underwear, as instructed.” Good boy.
I even wore a dress, again, intending to give him easy access to me while in my back seat. But instead of parking, I thought, I may as well just go to my house because I have a garage, we can have some privacy. He was game for anything I was comfortable with, basically, along for the ride. His voice cadence made me feel like he could be a little nervous, maybe excited at not knowing what would happen next, and probably with a bit of hoping that he doesn’t fuck anything up. It was quite cute.
My nerves showed as we arrived back at my house, and I realized I didn’t even close the garage door when I left to pick him up. We get out, and I leave my keys on the front seat, intending to keep him in that location. But then we kissed. It wasn’t even good at first, but he caught on quite fast. Fuck, his lips felt good. I said fuck it and told him he was coming inside. I proceeded to walk to the door before promptly realizing where I left my keys. What can I say, I was fucking turned on.
It turned out to be the best decision ever. I brought him downstairs to my bedroom. I didn’t worry about messing up the bedding since it all needed to be washed anyway. He was naked before I took off my dress. His body was only a few inches taller than my 5’2” and a tad too thin for my usual taste. But his frame was tight, and it felt good against me. We probably kissed more than anything, and considering how much both of us missed doing that very thing, we couldn’t get enough of each other’s lips.
His body was so responsive to my touch, and I couldn’t get enough of doing whatever I could to make his body squirm. My eyes lit up when I found out his nipples were sensitive. It’s funny, he was worried I’d think he was less than masculine if I saw him playing with his nipples. I swear this young generation is fucking up all the good shit. I made sure I gave them constant attention and told him to do so when my mouth was busy. Needless to say, he was ordered to play with his nipples while I sucked his cock and everything I could reach around it. I’m not sure he’d ever had the opportunity to experience that sensation before. Having his nipples stimulated while his cock was in someone’s mouth. Watching his body buck off the bed and his whispered swears just drove me to give him more.
I stopped short of rimming his asshole (as much as I wanted to). I wanted to hold a little bit back because I already knew I would fuck him again. Oh my God, I didn’t even mention how much I loved running my fingers through his thick head of hair! It was even more fun when I heard a hiss come from his mouth when I pulled it. My pussy is legit twitching just thinking about getting my hands in it again. Anyway, mostly I wanted to see what we were like together without too much freaky shit, but we snuck a few things in.
He had fun using my womanizer on me, and between times when his dick was inside me, we talked about some things I like. He’s so willing to please. But one surprising thing that happened that I didn’t expect is he made me squirt. I mean, for the record, I did have to pee, so my bladder was a bit full. But to be honest, he had me on my back, and he went straight to my spot when he pushed his fingers inside me. He asked me if I squirted, and I said, “I will if you keep doing that!” That fueled his efforts, and I sprayed all over the bed. It felt so fucking good! My head was so gone after that that I just turned over and made him pound me until he just couldn’t go anymore.
We were both out of breath from that pounding. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. We realized the time, and he had to get back home. I let him know in no uncertain terms that I wanted him again. He happily agreed.
