We took about two steps into the bedroom and Derrick roughly spun me around and started kissing me again. He did not mean to be rough and it didn’t hurt me. I wrapped my arms around his body and started kissing him back. We stood in my bedroom and made out for a couple of minutes and Derrick broke the kiss and held me in his arms.
“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” he told me. “I can’t keep my hands off of you.”
I ran my hands up his chest over his tee shirt. “Is that a bad thing?” I teased.
Derrick grinned and started to take off his shirt.
“Not yet,” I told him. “I want to watch.”
I walked to the bed and lay down across the bed on my stomach and propped my head up in my hands. I watched as the boy removed his clothes.
I was never one to be shy when it came to sex. Earlier when Derrick mentioned dating to have fun, I knew what he meant and I was being truthful when I told him sex and foreplay could be fun. I enjoyed sex a great deal when I was in my two sexual relationships and often initiated it. Sex was fun, a great deal of fun.
Derrick had asked me if I missed the intimacy and I knew he meant sex. When my sex life with my husband ended, yes, I missed it. When it started to die down I did masturbate on occasion when I felt the desire to do so. It was not often but it did happen. When he got sicker that desire started to go away and when he was at his worst it left me completely. I had more important priorities and that was being his caregiver when he could no longer take care of himself. After he died, it took a long time for me to feel any sexual desire at all.
When I started to feel that desire once again, I would take care of it by myself, but again it was not often; once, maybe twice a month at the most. By the time I was lying in my bed and watching Derrick undress, I had not masturbated in about four months.
After flirting with Derrick, making out with him, touching him, him touching me, me giving him a blowjob, tasting and swallowing his delicious cum, and now seeing him take his clothes off, the sensation I felt between my legs was reminding me how long it had been since I had sex and how badly I needed this.
As Derrick and I walked hand in hand up the stairs and to my bedroom, I decided I was not going to play coy. I was not going to have any regrets or show remorse or have guilt about having sex with this eighteen-year-old boy. I was going to enjoy it and make sure he enjoyed it. I also decided I did not want this to be a one-time thing. If he wanted it, I would continue an affair with him as long as we enjoyed each other, both sexually and non-sexually.
There had to be some rules we needed to establish, the most important that we had to keep our affair a secret. I would not bring those up that day; however, those were something we could talk about later. That day I just wanted to enjoy him, his body, and the sex I hoped he enjoyed me also.
When Derrick took off his shirt I admired his body with thoughts of lust. I had seen the boy shirtless many times when he worked in my yard. I had seen his upper body glistening with sweat from the hot and humid days in the summertime in Georgia. Now, however, I looked at it differently. I never looked at it with lust before, but now I did.
Derrick stood six foot and one inch tall, I am five-eight so not short, and he had a nice body: athletic with a swimmer-type muscular build. The black chest hairs were not plentiful at his age but they looked fine and soft and contrasted his the light brown hair on the top of his head. I watched as he took off his old, dirty, worn-out shoes, then his socks, and then he pulled down his shorts and then his underwear. He stepped out of them. His beautiful penis – yes, I thought it was beautiful and sexy – was erect and jutted straight out from between his legs and the black pubic hairs.
Derrick looked at me and grinned and I made a come-here motion with my finger. He walked to me and when his penis was an inch from my mouth I parted my lips and took him in my hand. Derrick knew what I wanted to do and he stepped closer and his penis entered my mouth again.
“Don’t make me cum again,” Derrick said when I started sucking the head of his cock and stroking it. “I want to fuck you, Lori.”
I took my mouth off of him and smiled. “I was not going to. I just wanted to taste it again,” I assured him.
Derrick chuckled. “I never imagined you would like sucking cock,” he told me and ran his hands through my hair.
He untied the knot that held my hair in place and fluffed it out to spill over my face.
“I like your hair down,” he told me.
I smiled. “It’s fun, having a guy in my mouth,” I told him.
I moved on the bed to lie on my back and started to take off my clothes as Derrick sat on the edge of the bed.
“Stop,” he told me as I was pulling my tee shirt off. “You got to watch me, now I want to watch you.”
For the first time that day, I got nervous. Derrick had seen me topless and if what he said was true he liked what he saw, but he had never seen the rest of me naked. I did get out of bed and stood in front of him, however. I figured we had better get this over with. I knew if he didn’t like what he saw, he would have sex with me anyway. He was eighteen and horny and would have stuck his penis in any woman at the moment. It was the after that made me nervous.
If he did not like what he saw, he would have sex with me, make up some excuse, leave, and I would never hear from him again. He would even stop helping in my yard and around the house. I didn’t want that. When Derrick and I were making out on the sofa, I had by then already made my mind up I wanted a continuous affair with the young man for as long as it could last.
I first took off my socks; I had not been wearing any shoes. Next, I removed my tee shirt and the bra and let my breasts spill out for the boy to see. I looked at him as he stared at my large breasts. They were not firm and perky and did droop a little. The skin tone of my breasts was a lighter shade than my body due to my tan lines. My brown areolas were a little larger than a quarter, my nipples were erect and puffy, and jutted out from the tip of my breasts.
“Fuck, you have great tits,” Derrick said. He was not telling me but more just thinking out loud. I smiled and was glad he liked them.
“Yeah, and you’re a horny eighteen-year-old boy with raging hormones,” I teased. “You would think any women’s breasts were great.” Derrick chuckled.
“No, turn around first. I want to see your ass,” Derrick told me as I unbuttoned my shorts and started to pull them down.
Derrick sounded more confident than he did earlier. I liked that. He did not sound like a nervous teenager going to have sex for the first time, which of course I knew I was not going to be his first. I liked the confidence and even hint of authority in his voice.
When I worked, I had people who reported to me and I was an A-type personality boss who did have a weakness at times for being a micro-manager. In my personal life, however, I was not a dominant or submissive person. I believed in an equal partnership. When it came to sex, I would often initiate it and playfully tease my partner. When the actual sex started, however, I did like for him to be the more controlling and dominant one.
I don’t mean dominant as in getting out whips and chains or smacking me around, but just being more in charge. During sex, I was not submissive and didn’t just lie there and let the man do all the work either. I did enjoy being on top, and to put it crudely, fucking him. When it came to me giving oral sex, I enjoyed being the one who set the tempo and used my mouth, tongue, and hands to pleasure and tease the man.
I turned around and slowly pushed my white denim shorts down and stepped out of them. I then put my hands on the waistband of my panties and took a deep breath. Now would be the real test of knowing if Derrick liked what he saw.
I never considered my butt to be one of my best features, even when I was younger. Those were my legs and breasts. I didn’t have a terrible ass, but it had always been slightly flat but firm when I was younger. At fifty-three, naturally, it was not as firm as it used to be and did have a hint of sag to it. I was lucky I had yet to develop any cellulite on my butt or the back of my upper thighs.
I still had a flat stomach but had the beginning of “love handles” around my waist, but not so much that I was embarrassed to wear a two-piece swimsuit.
I was never one who got into exercise or what my generation called a “gym rat”, but when my husband’s illness got worse, worry and stress started to take a toll on me. One of the results was that I went through menopause at an earlier age. I was forty-five when it happened. My doctor told me that while it was not common for a woman to start menopause that early, it was not unheard of either. He told me my stress level was the trigger that caused it. At least I didn’t have to deal with “that time of the month” anymore. My doctor suggested stress relief in the form of exercise.
After spending a great deal of money on what was then a state-of-the-art stationary bicycle, treadmill, and Stairmaster equipment, I soon realized I did not care for exercise that much. I sold the items for a much-discounted price three months later. I then tried yoga. Yoga was more my speed and I enjoyed it. I practiced yoga up until two years after my husband died and then got out of the habit of doing it.
I was also a little embarrassed by the panties I was wearing that day. I would not call them “granny panties” but more “mommy panties”. Of course, when I put them on that morning I never thought anyone would see them. They were slightly loose-fitting, white, silky, nylon panties that had a high waist to them and covered my butt and private area modestly. They were comfortable, not sexy.
I slowly pulled down my panties and the crotch area slightly stuck to me since my sex was so wet, and yes, women can still get wet after menopause. It is an individual-case basis and lucky for me that part of my sexual arousal was not affected, as I found out that day. I had not been that wet between my legs in a long time. As my affair with Derrick continued, I discovered menopause did not affect my libido.
Sometimes I thought that my sexual drive even increased, but that was not really true. The truth was that I was a woman for whom sex had become less and less of a priority when my husband got sick and then zero priority as he got sicker and after he died. There was also the fact I was a fifty-plus-year-old woman having a great deal of sex with an attractive young man who was thirty years younger than she was. He was a young man who had the sexual hormones and desires of a teenager and a woman who was more than willing to help him satisfy those desires.
As I pulled my panties down, I tried to not bend over much and when they slid past my thighs it was easy to let them fall to my ankles. I stood there waiting for Derrick to say something.
I flinched when his hands touched my butt cheeks, not because I did not want him to touch me but because it just startled me a little because I was not expecting it.
“Fuck, Lori, you have a nice ass,” the boy told me as he caressed my butt cheeks. “I just love your tan lines. They are sexy.”
“Thank you,” I told him and smiled. I was glad he liked it or at least told me he did to make me feel better about myself.
Derrick slid his hands to my hips and gently pulled me to him. I let out a faint moan as he pressed his lips to my right butt cheek. My faint moan turned into gasping, slightly louder ones as Derrick started to open-mouth kiss and lick my butt cheeks. It felt very nice.
“Bend over a little,” the boy told me.
I spread my legs apart a little and bent over slightly. Derrick continued to lick and kiss my butt cheeks and spread them apart slightly. I felt his tongue run down my butt crack and moaned again. I then felt him place his tongue on my butthole.
“No, not there,” I told him, my voice calm. I took a step away from him and looked over my shoulder. “I don’t do that or anything there.”
“I’m sorry,” Derrick said. “I didn’t know.” His voice was less confident than before.
I smiled, I was not mad or upset or appalled. “That’s OK,” I assured him. “There are things we will learn about each other and what we like and don’t like.”
Derrick smiled, “Cool.”
I let out one-syllable giggle when he said cool. Typical teenager.
“Come back over here again,” Derrick told me. His voice held that slight tone of authority again.
I backed up to him and he placed his hands on my hips once more and started kissing and running his tongue over my butt once more.
“Bend over again,” he told me. I did. “More.” I did. “More.” I didn’t.
I looked over my shoulder at the boy again. “I think that’s enough,” I told him with a smile.
Derrick shook his head. “I want to see that pussy, Lori.” His voice was even more authoritative. It sent a chill of excitement up my spine.
I bent over more but placed my hand behind me to cover up my sex. I was not doing it to be modest. I knew he was going to see more of it soon, be inside it, and hopefully use his mouth on it. I enjoyed receiving oral sex as much as I did giving it. There was another reason why I didn’t want him to see it. What if he didn’t like the hair on it?
I was not overly hairy between my legs and I did get a bikini wax in the spring to prepare for times I would be wearing my swimsuit and continued that all summer. In the fall and winter, I forgo the wax. It was just a minor wax job to remove the hairs around my swimsuit line. I had gotten one before my trip to the Caribbean and it had yet to need another, but I had hair on other areas of my sex.
I was pretty sure Derrick was not used to that. I knew or thought I knew that for several years it was the style for younger girls to either shave themselves or get waxed to remove all the pubic hair. I had never done that before. My knowledge of that, or lack of as it turned out, was not due to porn. I never got into porn and did not care for it, but due to the fact I did enjoy reading erotic fiction. I had for years, ever since I was a teenage girl. I had taken a break from it when my husband got sick but recently started reading it again. In the more modern ones I read all the girls were hairless down there.
Derrick placed his hand over mine and moved it out of the way and I did resist. It was either now or when I was in bed with him; might as well get it over with.
“Bend over, Lori,” he told me. I bit my lower lip and bent over more.
Derrick ran his hand up my inner thigh and touched my sex. I let out a moan as his finger slid up and down the slit. He did not penetrate me with it, but just lightly touched me.
“You have a sexy pussy, Lori,” he told me and I let out another faint moan as his finger slid down. “I like how I can see it when you bend over.” I blushed and then blushed deeper as he continued talking about my private area. No one ever gave me a description of how my sex looked. “I like how much darker it is than your body and how your pussy lips stand out but don’t hang down and are not all flappy.” I felt him open me up with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, it’s so wet and pink inside,” he told me as he visually inspected me.
I blushed even more at the crude comments and I wanted to end the play-by-play of how my private area looked. Yes, his fingers felt nice on me, and okay, sure, the comments, while vulgar, did turn me on because he liked what he saw, but it was embarrassing. I stood up straight and turned around.
“You don’t mind the hair?” I asked. I could not think of anything else to say.
Derrick gave me a curious look. “No, why would I?” he answered me.
“Because I…oh, never mind,” I told him, even more embarrassed that I asked.
Derrick looked at me for a few seconds and then started laughing. I felt suddenly vulnerable and placed an arm across my chest and a hand to cover between my legs.
“What’s so funny?” I snapped at him.
“You, that you thought I had never seen a girl with hair on her pussy,” he said in between his laughing.
“It’s not funny!” I snapped again. “Now I don’t think you are going to get what you were staring at!”
Derrick was still chuckling when he called my bluff. He pulled me to him and on top of him and I did not resist and straddled the boy. He started kissing me and I started kissing him back. As we kissed fiercely he placed one hand on my butt and the other on my left breast. He gently kneaded my breast and took the nipple between his forefinger and thumb and seductively rolled it between them. I moaned in pleasure into his mouth as we kissed. I started kissing him harder as if I was trying to force my tongue down his throat. I could feel his hard penis pressing into my stomach.
As we kissed and as he played with my nipple and then moved his hand to the other one, I reached down and took his penis in my hand. I raised my butt and tried to guide him inside me as I started kissing his neck. Derrick pushed my hand away.
“Please, baby, I want you inside me so bad,” I whispered in his ear.
“Not yet,” he told me.
Derrick placed both hands on the bottom of my butt, just above the back of my thighs. I made a squeal of surprise when Derrick picked me up as he stood up. He turned us around and gently placed me on the bed on my back. The boy spread my legs apart, straightened up, and looked down at me. I closed my legs but Derrick spread them apart again.
“Keep them open,” he told me. I did.
“Please, now, Derrick,” I whimpered. I was not begging but I was close. “I want you inside me so bad, please.”
It was not supposed to be that way! Derrick was an eighteen-year-old boy and I was a mature woman. He was the one that was supposed to be telling me please and how much he wants to be inside me, not the other way around. His self-control impressed me. There was a lot about Derrick and sex that was to soon impress me.
“I want to see you touch yourself, Lori,” he told me. “I want to watch you play with your pussy.” The boy sounded a little unsure of himself.
“I can’t let you watch me touch myself down there,” I said but giggled as I said it playfully.
Derrick smiled at me, “You can say the word pussy, Lori,” he told me.
I looked at him and my eyes ran up and down his nice body a few times but always kept going back to his penis. I gave Derrick a mischievous grin.
“I’ll play with my pussy if I can watch you play with your cock,” I told him.
See, I was not opposed to using the words pussy or cock or other words in the right context. Yes, I was raised to be a Southern lady and rarely cursed, but there was also a time and place such words could be used without sounding trashy.
Derrick returned my grin. “OK,” he said. He moved to sit on the bed next to me.
“No, right there while you are standing up so I can keep looking at your body,” I told him. “And go slow.” He grinned again.
I had never seen a man masturbate and a man had never seen me do it, but the thought of it excited me.
I kept my eyes focused on Derrick’s cock and lowered my right hand down to my pussy. He started stroking himself at a slow pace. I started by slowly running my finger up my pussy slit as he did to me earlier. I started at the entrance to my pussy, up to my clit, and back down. I glanced up at Derrick’s face and saw his eyes focused between my spread legs.
“Have you ever watched a girl do this?” I asked as I slowly teased myself.
“No,” he admitted.
“Not so fast,” I told him as he picked up his tempo. He slowed down. I didn’t want him to have another orgasm. At least not until he had one inside me. “Why did you say those things? About how my pussy looks?” I asked as I brought my other hand up to my breasts and started playing with my hard nipple. “Do you talk to all the girls that way? So crudely?”
I was teasing him with my words and my actions. I wanted to show him that he was not the one in complete control at the moment. Hopefully, that would come later.
“Quid pro quo?” he asked. I was impressed he knew what that meant. He slowly continued to stroke himself.
“Sure,” I answered.
It was exciting to have a sexy conversation while we watched each other. I upped the stakes by inserting a finger into my wet pussy. I made a faint moan as I penetrated myself.
“No, I have never said those things before to a girl. I said them to you because you let me say them,” he told me with a confident grin. “I never looked at a girl’s pussy before as I did yours.”
I found that sexy and pushed my finger into me deeper and gently pinched my nipple and moaned out again, this time louder.
“I like hearing you moan,” he told me.
“Is that your question?” I asked, teasing him again.
“No,” he said as I watched him stroke his larger-than-average cock. God, it was so sexy to watch. “Why did you think I would not like it that you have hair on your pussy?”
“I thought all girls did that now?” I answered without being embarrassed. I started thrusting my finger in and out of myself faster.
“No, go slow,” Derrick told me and I had to giggle at the fact he used my own words against me. I slowed my pace. “I have never been with a girl who completely shaved her pussy,” he told me.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes. One girl trimmed her hair shorter though,” he told me.
“Oh,” was all I said. I saw pre-cum glistening on the tip of his penis. I liked that visual.
“What do you want to do to me right now?” I asked.
Even though I liked seeing the pre-cum on him, I was afraid Derrick would lose self-control and start stroking himself harder and cum. My question was to end the game. It was a fun game and one I would like to play again with him. I got turned on when he mentioned the other girls he had sex with. Maybe next time we played the game I would ask more questions about the girls he had sex with and tell him about my past sex life. Not with my husband; that was off-limits. But my first boyfriend I didn’t mind. Not that there would be a lot to tell him, just a few things.
“I want to eat your pussy,” he told me.
I wrinkled my nose at the phrase. It was not my favorite way to describe a man giving me oral sex. I didn’t correct him or say anything. Instead, I removed my finger from my pussy and placed it in my mouth and sucked my sex fluid off of it while I looked Derrick in the eyes. I never had an issue with tasting myself. I placed my feet flat on the bed and spread my knees apart. Any doubts I had about this eighteen-year-old boy liking my fifty-three-year-old body were long gone.
“I would like that,” I told him.
Derrick grabbed my legs and pulled my body so that my butt was just at the edge of the bed. I put my feet flat on the bed again as he knelt between them and slid his hands under my butt. I raised my head to watch him and kept my arms at my sides. I liked watching a man go down on me. He started by kissing my upper inner thighs and licking them until his mouth reached my pussy.
“You smell good, Lori,” he told me.
“Lavender moisturizer,” I teased.
“I was not talking about that smell,” he said and grinned. “I’m talking about your pussy.”
I smiled. I knew what he was talking about.
Derrick lowered his head and ran his tongue up my pussy, not using it to penetrate me, just licking it. I let out a small moan from the sensation. He ran his tongue up and down several times and again looked up at me.
“Fuck, Lori, you taste so good,” he commented and went back to using his tongue on me.
When he placed his tongue inside my pussy it felt nice but was not giving me a great deal of pleasure. I had gotten more pleasure from using my fingers on myself earlier. I knew or suspected Derrick was just teasing me and wanting to taste me, or I hoped that was it. The thought did cross my mind that since he was only eighteen he may not have the experience to know how to please a woman with his mouth.
While I would have told him where to use his tongue and inform him of the pleasure a woman will get from having her clit stimulated, I was not going to be his teacher or sexual educator. I did not want to be the woman who years later when Derrick was pleasing a girl with his mouth and she asked where he learned how to do that, he would tell her about an older woman who taught him things. Plus, it did feel nice to have a man’s mouth on my pussy after many years of not having that experience.
Derrick put his mouth over my pussy and continued to use his tongue inside me. He was licking the inside of my pussy as if he could not get enough of the taste. I was flattered by that. He stopped after several moments and looked up at me.
“I want to watch you suck your nipples as I eat your pussy,” he told me. Again I wrinkled my nose at the eating my pussy comment but didn’t say anything about it.
“OK.” It was all I told him.
I had never done that before, never even crossed my mind, and had no clue if it would feel good or not, but I was willing to give it a try if he wanted to see it. Lucky for me my breasts were large enough that I could do it. See, as I mentioned to Derrick earlier, I was no prude. I think I agreed to do it because the thought of him watching me suck my nipples excited me.
I lowered my head down a little, took my right breast in my right hand, and pushed it up to my mouth. Derrick went back to licking my pussy but kept his eyes focused on me. I ran my tongue over my erect nipple and it felt nice. I then had to push it up further and lowered my head more to take it in my mouth. I started to suck my brown, erect puffy nipple. It felt very pleasant.
I moaned out as I sucked my nipple. The feeling I gave myself, knowing he was watching me, and having a man’s mouth on my pussy for the first time in many years, was erotic and turned me on. I took my nipple gently between my teeth and started flicking my tongue over it. I liked it; I liked it a lot.
“Damn, Lori, you are so wet,” he told me. “I can’t get enough of how great you taste.”
I liked hearing that, but I knew he was just saying that in general, about my taste, not how wet I was. I knew I was wet, very wet; I could feel it. The comment about the taste was something he would have told any girl he was performing oral sex on, but it was arousing to hear.
I took my left nipple in my mouth as Derrick started licking my inner thighs. He was no longer watching me suck my nipples, but I continued because it felt good.
As I continued to suck my nipple and Derrick continued to tongue my pussy, I felt him move his hands from under my butt and place them on my knees. He pushed my knees to spread my legs further apart. I think he was trying to push them until they were flat on the bed. I was not as flexible as I once was and they couldn’t go that far without feeling as if my muscles were being ripped. He spread them open as far as he could. It did feel a little uncomfortable and I could feel my inner thigh muscles stretching, but when Derrick let go of my knees I kept them spread for the boy.
Derrick took his mouth off of my pussy and I let go of my breasts and looked down at him as he looked up at me. We smiled at each other and a faint moan escaped my lips when the boy inserted a finger in my pussy. It slid in easily because I was so wet.
“Damn, Lori, your pussy is so tight and wet,” Derrick commented as he slowly thrust his finger in and out of me. I smiled at him. “Your pussy sucks my finger in and when I pull it out, your pussy does not want to let go of it.”
“Do you sweet talk all the girls like that?” I teased the boy as he kept using his finger on me slowly.
Derrick grinned. “Not really, but I like talking like that to you,” he answered. “I like that you are letting me explore your pussy.”
I did not mind dirty talk during sex as long as it didn’t get out of hand. I didn’t like being verbally degraded as in a guy calling me a whore or a slut or a bitch, etc. My first boyfriend did that once and it killed the mood and I had him take me home and didn’t talk to him for five days.
I was not much of a talker during sex; I was more of a slightly loud moaner. Well, I guess I was, or maybe a louder moaner. It was not like I carried around a sound level meter with me to measure the decibel level of my moans. I am just going by what my husband told me at times and times he would laugh and tell me I needed to be quieter or someone would hear us. He did tell me a few times he liked the high-pitched squealing noise I made when I orgasmed, but then again, I had to trust his word on that as well and he had no cause to lie about it.
I would say some things during intercourse. Calling out to God, telling the person to go harder or faster, don’t stop, telling him how good he felt inside me, or telling him I was about to have an orgasm. At times when I was close to orgasm or when very sexually aroused, I would use more vulgar words or phrases like telling him to fuck me, how good his cock felt, etc. So no, I didn’t mind Derrick’s dirty talk about my pussy.
Derrick, still going in and out of me slowly, brought his free hand up to my pussy and brushed back some of my pubic hair and I gave a moan of pleasure when his thumb brushed my clit. It just grazed it a little and I was sure it was an accident.
I did not have confidence that Derrick, being an eighteen-year-old boy, would be knowledgeable about a woman’s clitoris and the pleasure it can give her. That was something I was willing to show him because it felt so damn good. I was surprised, very pleasantly so, when Derrick proved my assumption wrong.
The boy placed his thumb just above the hood of my clit, pushed it up to expose the little nub, and lowered his head. He placed his mouth over the top of my pussy.
“Uhhh, baby, that’s nice,” I moaned out when his tongue touched my clit.
I kept moaning as his tongue made small, circular motions over my clit. Every so often his tongue would slide off but he would quickly find it again.
“Uhh, baby, yes, right, uhh, God, that feels good. Uhh right there…don’t stop,” I moaned out.
“Uhh…uhh, my God!” I suddenly shouted when Derrick started flicking his tongue rapidly over my clit.
I lay back on the bed and placed my hands on his head as he tongued my clit and it felt wonderful! I gasped a louder moan when Derrick put two other fingers inside my pussy. He didn’t thrust them deep into me, only about two or three inches inside me. I felt his three fingers moving and turning inside me.
“Uhh, Derrick, uhh deeper, uhhh, please go deeper,” I moaned out. “Please put them in deep…uhhh, fuck! Uhhh fuck! Ohhh, God! Ohhh, fuck!” I screamed out as my back arched and I grabbed two handfuls of Derrick’s hair.
He had found what his fingers were searching for. The younger boy found my G-spot. I would have been surprised and even impressed he knew what that spot was and where to find it, but I was in too much ecstasy to even think about that.
With Derrick’s tongue flicking rapidly over my clit and three fingers stimulating my G-spot, I was moaning loudly and uttering incoherent words. I think the only words I could form were, God, fuck, and don’t stop. There was another sound hitting my ears also: a wet-sounding sucking or squishy type noise.
I knew it was coming from my pussy as Derrick started massaging my G-spot faster and harder and moving his hand rapidly in very short thrusts. My pussy had become so wet from the stimulation of that spot that I could feel my sex fluid running out of my pussy and down my perineum and to my butthole.
I felt Derrick’s hand that was lifting my clit hood move up my body and he found my right nipple. I gave a loud gasp when he pinched it between his forefinger and thumb and started to massage it. He didn’t pinch it hard enough to hurt, just enough to give me a very pleasant sensation.
“Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh, fuck!” I cried out after about two minutes of Derrick intensely stimulating my G-spot. “Uhhh, God, I’m going to cum! Uhhh, fuck, don’t…don’t…Uhhh, God, don’t stop!”
Derrick started going faster and harder on my G-spot and I made that high-pitched squealing sound I was told I made when I orgasmed. I arched my back and my butt lifted off the bed as my stomach and leg muscles tightened. My hands pulled the boy’s hair hard, but apparently, Derrick didn’t mind because he kept his mouth on me, his tongue on my clit, his fingers of one hand on my nipple, and his other fingers inside me.
My orgasm lasted several seconds and it was a great orgasm. I had not felt an orgasm like that in many years since my husband. I was never able to make myself cum as well as when someone else did it.
After my orgasm ended, I lay on the bed panting with my eyes closed and legs still spread open. Derrick lifted his head, pulled his fingers out of my pussy, and let go of my nipple. When I opened my eyes, I saw the young man bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth.
His fingers were not the only part of his hand that was glistening. My sex fluid had covered halfway down his hand and just past the last set of knuckles. I watched as he spread his fingers apart and looked at them. The pussy fluid and cum was a mixture of thin, clear consistency and clear mucus-like thicker consistency. When he spread his fingers apart the thicker mucus-like fluid stretched between his fingers.
I was not embarrassed by that. It was just how I got when I had a G-spot orgasm and nothing to be embarrassed by. I read in some of my erotic stories how girls would actually ejaculate when they had a G-spot orgasm. I read that their cum would be thick and a solid white, similar to a man’s cum, I assumed. I even read about women who squirt, a vulgar term I agree, but that’s what they called it. While I thought ejaculating a male-like cum would be sexy, I was glad I did not do the other thing. That would be embarrassing.
“That’s fucking awesome,” Derrick said about his messy fingers.
He brought them to his mouth and started to lick them as I watched. It was hot seeing him do that. Do young people still use the word “hot”? Before he could completely clean his hand and fingers from my fluids, Derrick stopped and put his hand close to my lips. I reached up and took hold of his hand with both of mine and pulled them to my mouth and finished cleaning them. As I said, I had no problem tasting myself. I liked it. I then grabbed his head and pulled his face to mine and started kissing him fiercely.
As we kissed, I felt the young man place his knees on the bed, just in front of my spread legs. I felt the tip of his penis touch my pussy and felt him slide it down to the entrance to my wet sex.
“No. Don’t,” I told him and quickly pushed him away and closed my legs.
