Part one of this story ventures outside my normal genre of romance. It's basically sex from the beginning until just after midstory where it slows a bit. Part two starts out hot, heavy and is somewhat fanciful, at the same time it would easily fulfill many a horny young man's dream.
I'm also going to do something I don't normally do with multiple part stories, part two will be submitted two days after part one. The story in and of itself will likely be picked apart by some, typically those who won't or can't write but think they should tell you how to write your story. We've reached a sad place in societal evolution, no matter what you write, somebody won't like it. Therefore I'm wishing you a happy whatever doesn't offend you day.
With that in mind let's get this show on the road. 😊
Damaged Goods
Part one
As a young man I severely lacked in scruples when it came to sex. One could say the word scruples was so foreign to me that when mentioned I thought they were talking about Russian money. Young, dumb, and full of cum would be a good description. I'd screw about anything if they didn't look or act like a skank whore. Working as a maintenance man in a large office complex located downtown, with hundreds of women working in said complex, the menu varied on a daily basis. Not that I was having sex every day, it was more like I was seeing what was available as well as being seen. At 20 I was what Bob Seger described in one of his songs, like a rock. I was strong, handsome, stood proud and wasn't afraid of anything. My personality was gregarious and extroverted.
If a woman or girl of age came onto me, or even hinted she might be interested I made sure to pursue her. No, I didn't win every contest, many a housewife or career woman would flirt and be chatty. In the end it would be an act with nothing happening beyond that. When it was time to get physical their tune would change, understandably. Why would they ruin their marriage or career over an arrogant guy like me? When I say I lacked in scruples it was because I didn't care about the details, if I found her suitable and she wanted to fuck, I was her guy. Little did I know how quickly the dynamics of life can change.
More than a few times my boss was looking for me while I was in a closet with my dick buried in a sweet pussy. Bent forward with her hands on the wall, dress or skirt bunched around the waist, panties around her knees and my cock buried balls deep. I enjoyed the ones who planned ahead and made sure they were without panties. The most bizarre episode I had encountered was an office manager who walked into the maintenance office, looked around, put her hands under her dress and slid the panties off. The bizarre part was after she hauled my stiffening dick out she turned and sat like she was on a toilet.
Reaching between her legs she grabbed my cock and sat without stopping until her warm soft ass touched my groin. I couldn't believe how wet she was, she rocked back and forth a few minutes and started to breathe heavy, in another minute she was moaning as her pelvis tightened. The walls of her pussy gently hugged my dick, milking me. She suddenly lifted, spun and mounted me cowgirl. I didn't last five minutes in that position. Still sitting on my cock she grabbed a roll of paper towels, lifted and stuck several between her legs. With her pussy wiped clean she leaned forward, kissed me on the forehead and whispered.
"I was curious and had to know if what the other girls were saying is true. This will never happen again. My husband is a cop, if I hear one word about this, I'll tell him you assaulted me. Thanks for the fuck junior, nice size cock, it was everything they said it would be."
She looked back as she exited the room and blew me a kiss. Though I continued to see her in the building after that moment of unfettered fornication we never spoke, we didn't so much as greet one another, as far as anyone else knew we were strangers. Almost a year after our romp I'd heard through the grapevine that she was leaving. I had a service call in her office area and wanted to make sure I told her it was completed. When I knocked on her door jamb she looked up, smiled and waved me in.
"Good morning Gil." Everyone knew my name, it was embroidered above the left pocket of my work shirt.
"Were you able to take care of the electrical problem? You were? Good. Come around behind my desk and look at something for me."
When I walked behind the desk her skirt was bunched at the waist, her bare hairy pussy was front and center. With a smile she spoke.
"You'll never see this again, but thanks for the romp last year. It was the highlight of my summer. I rode hubby like a two-dollar whore that night. You might like to know that when I'm having a hard time climaxing with him buried inside, I think of your long thick cock. It sends me over the edge every time. Have a good life Gil and try not to fuck every woman in the building."
Pulling her skirt down she shooed me away with the back of her hands. I felt like a fool turning to leave her office with a rapidly stiffening dick. One of the ladies noticed and passed me a note as I walked by. It said, "two o'clock in the conference room, fourth floor." What surprised me the most was that she was clearly in her late fifties or early sixties, but if she wanted my cock, who was I to say no? I was concerned about the age difference and there was a wedding band on her finger. However, it was she who initiated the contact so in my young, depraved mind it was no harm, no foul.
Like I already said, I didn't chase after married women, but if they were willing so was I. I would eventually learn that it did make a difference. Then again, I was a very horny young man severely lacking in scruples and hers was a one-of-a-kind offer.
The fourth-floor conference room had no windows and was lockable from the inside. As I walked through the door she told me to lock it, which I did. Standing next to the table she had the appearance of a grandma, at the same time the look on her face said "lust". As I approached she was already unbuttoning the dress, as it dropped to the floor along with her slip my cock jumped. Before me was a lady in the sexiest lingerie I had ever seen.
The sheer red bra barely contained her large breasts, matching panties rested over the top of a red garter belt, the straps holding sheer white stockings. Her nipples were large, her waist was narrow and the panties did nothing to hide the pronounced mound of greying pubic hair. With one deft move she'd unclasped her bra and slid her panties down. Her breasts sagged slightly but I think from weight as much as anything else. Moving to me she looked directly into my eyes.
"The rules. No kissing. You can grope, you can finger, you can lick, you MUST bury that piece of meat between your legs inside me. But no kissing. I'm here to fuck a young stud, not fall in love. My darling loving husband of 42 years can't get it up any longer since heart surgery. I made a decision last week that I was going to have a cock buried in me one last time. He'll never know, and I'll never tell."
As she lay back on the table she reached for my head, guiding my face into the valley between her legs. The pubic hair tickled my nose, I didn't care, if this lady was going to have one final fuck, I was determined to make it worth her while. When she began to climax I watched as her hands went to her breasts, squeezing them, pinching the nipples, pulling them away from her body. As she lay on the table panting I quickly undressed. Sitting up she pulled me forward, bent at the waist and sucked me hard as a fence post. Smiling she lay back holding onto my cock like a pull toy. Placing me at the entrance of her vagina she wiggled her hips and pulled my cock inside just past the inner labia. Patting my face she grinned.
"Now that you're in give this granny all the cock she can handle. And I want every drop inside my beaver, paint the insides boy. I want to have it leaking into my panties all afternoon. I'll clean up before I go home. Get busy."