I've overheard men say, "I just wish the bitch would die and I'd be free again." Even men with good marriages, makes me wonder what they think is waiting for them? Most of them are in their 40's to 60's, have part of their belly hanging over their belt, half or more of their hair is gone, or in one of those stupid partial pony tails, and they think the 25 to 35 year old gals will be lining up to screw them.
Becoming a widower at 53 is not easy, or fun. It's a lonely pain in the ass until you learn to balance life with agony and grief. We had a good marriage, remained true to our vows, raised three kids and lived comfortably. Knowing she had heart issues when we married, we were always grateful for another year she was alive. She had lived long enough to see all the kids graduate and two of them marry.
We'd promised each other that if one died early, the other would find another to spend their remaining days with. My first marriage was good enough that I was willing to consider a second go at it. We met in our freshman high year, she sat next to me in homeroom. We instantly had eyes for each other and within weeks we were an 'item' as it was referred to then. My formal name is Buster, but nearly everyone calls me Buck, or Bucky. I asked her to go steady in our junior year and we thought we were on the road to 'happier ever after', that is until we graduated and left for college.
We grew up in a time when getting pregnant out of wedlock was not some kind of badge of honor, but rather something of shame. There was no such thing as hookups, or apps to find the next fuck-buddy, nor parents who allowed their 13 year old daughters to wear a shirt saying "porn star" across the front. No sweat pants with "juicy" written across the ass, it was simply a different mind set all together.
The level of our backseat education in the sex department was brief and not very productive. Like the line in the Harry Chapin song, 'we learned about love in the back of a Dodge and the lesson hadn't gone too far'.
Our colleges were hundreds of miles apart, she was studying fashion design with an emphasis on home décor, me focusing on pre-med so I could go onto veterinary medicine. I was raised in dairy country, it was only natural that I would focus on a large animal practice to help that industry. I was fortunate enough to get through the bachelor's phase in four before entering my mandatory four years of vet schooling. The first few years we kept up a steady flow of letters. Cell phones and free long distance were not around yet, so we kept our calls to a minimum. We would see one another during home visits over holidays. In time I noticed a change in Sheila, dressing a bit more provocatively, a sexier hair style, drinking wine now and talking trash most of the time.
In our junior year of college we made the decision to 'date others' as we called it then. I lost my virginity to an older college professor who taught me more about the female body and sex than I could have ever imagined. I had just turned 22 and she was 45, but oh my God, what a babe. She was divorced, but not shacking up with every guy she could find, and very discreet. She stood 5'8", but the way she commanded her classroom you'd have thought she was 6'5". She was fair to look at, lovely figure, breasts that matched her body size which I figured was about an 8, slender waist and soft flowing hips. Her hair was a dark brown with little streaks of grey here and there. She wasn't the neighborhood MILF, she was simply average, like most of the rest of humanity.
I learned about push up bras, matching transparent panties and bras, crotchless panties, stockings with a garter belt as well as thigh high stay up stockings, and the art of dressing in a way that said "fuck me now" without revealing an inch of skin that wasn't normally visible to everyone.
Her name was Gwendolyn, those who were allowed to refer to her on a first name basis called her Gwen. Not sure how I caught her eye, but she knew I was in need of attention. My dad had recently died in a freak accident and I found myself vulnerable without realizing it. The friendship, as she called it, began over coffee and a slice of pie. It grew to flirtatious activity after class and in meetings she would schedule in the library. Once she had me in her grasp the meetings changed to her office, with a closed door and no windows. Don't misunderstand, I didn't mind being in her grasp at all.
When she discovered I was a virgin she smiled big and commented seductively, "Oh my, I'm going to enjoy moulding you Buster. We're going to have great fun you and I."
My education included properly eating pussy, how to find the G spot and finger her to orgasm, the proper care of breasts, how to nibble on and enjoy nipples, how to kiss deeply, kissing my way from lips to vulva, and appreciating a vagina with hair. She taught me how to enter a woman without hurting her, to take my time, and how not to blow my load in the first five minutes. She was into the dom/sub role shit, which I wasn't, but played along. What I didn't need was a pissed off prof giving me a shitty grade, too much of my future depended on those good grades. Since I was a student and the college had a policy against student/staff relationships she had to be careful.
Once the meetings were in her office and I'd laid pipe to her a few times she began playing the whole dom scene, having me eat her sitting at her desk, sometimes on my knees while she held her dress up. None of it bothered me, because as soon as she was done playing her game, I'd cram my dick into her wet sloppy cunt. She got her pussy licked and I got my balls emptied on a regular basis, what's to fuss about? Sheila and I saw one another a few times while home visiting family, it was obvious she was in bed with somebody, or somebodies depending on who she was telling the story to. I chose not to come home between graduation and beginning my first year at vet school.
Now that I was no longer a student Gwen asked me to stay with her the summer and paraded me around as her boy toy. In reality I was more like her fuck toy, she made sure all her divorced and single college prof friends saw I was her lover. She took me to parties, faculty functions, picnics, bbq's, you name it, we went. With the school year ended she was dressing much more like a sex queen than a professor. If I was next to her with my hand on her waist or the small of her back, she'd slide it down onto her ass and glare at me, telling me not to move it off her ass.
On the first day I was there she stood at the kitchen table, lifted her dress exposing her bare pussy and told me to lick it clean. I sat still, finishing my pancakes as she fumed and then exploded.
"Boy, you'll do as I say, I am your mistress, now get over here and lick my pussy."
"Mistress? Who the fuck are you kidding Gwen? I'm not your anything, I keep my dick shoved in your ready and wet hole and I lick your pussy because I want to, not because I'm your fuckin slave. Since I no longer need a grade from you, I can say this. Fuck You!"
Her mouth hung open a mile, staring at me in disbelief.
I stood and walked to her, picked her up and placed her on the table, pushing her back I told her to grab her legs. She was in shock as I stuck my dick into her hot little box, going balls deep on the first stroke. She grunted and winced a little, I knew it was uncomfortable for her but didn't care. I proceeded to fuck the shit out of her, finishing with her bent over the table and me unloading three days of pent up sperm in her hole.
As she lay there catching her breath cum was dripping out of her onto the floor. I scooped her up, carried her to the bedroom and told her to strip. She opened her mouth to protest, I lifted her dress and slapped her bare ass, pointing a finger at her. She began disrobing as I went in the bath and started filling the tub. Returning I picked her up, placed her in the hot sudsy tub and proceeded to gently wash her aching body.
As I washed, I spoke softly, "Gwen, honey, you can be a good girl and treat me with respect, or I can fuck you like this anytime and anywhere I want, including in front of your girlfriends. Who knows, maybe I'll fuck them too, as you watch. I don't mind being your fuck toy, in fact I kinda like it, but I'll be damned if you're going to treat me like some subspecies."
Gwen sat looking in horror as I spoke. "What's it gonna be cupcake, do we fuck and have fun all summer, or do I treat you like a slut, in every way you can imagine? Your choice sweet cheeks, lemme know by tonight."
I stood and walked away. In the kitchen I cleaned up the dishes, pots and pans and then washed the cum off the floor. As I was finishing she walked back into the kitchen wearing a baby doll top and nothing else. She walked to me, draped her arms around my neck and kissed me.
"Master, I'm sorry. Please fuck me and use me any way you'd like. Fuck every hole, I'll be your cum bucket, just please don't ask me to fuck other guys."
