Coffe Time With Kinky Good Touches

I didn't plan on stopping by, but my urges got the best of me. I'm in yoga pants, sneakers and a track jacket and feeling less than sexy. However, last night while watching television there was an old preacher, older than you, but it didn't matter. Against my best efforts thoughts of you popped into my head. Once again my trying to block you out for the last two weeks is for not. My mind started thinking of you, of being your little whore, and before I knew it my pussy was aching to be touched. So, here I stand, waiting for you to open the door; anticipating my Kinky cocktail, and you.

"Oh I missed you," you say as you grab my face and kiss me. You force your tongue in my mouth and it begins. My body is aching, begging, damn near shaking as I'm waiting for your hands to start wondering. Just then you pull away, stepping into the kitchen to make my cocktail.

"Ice?" you ask me.

"No", I respond. You never remember. You're so fucking old. Actually, I can't be sure if it's failing memory, or your lack of hearing aid. You grab our drinks and we head to the living room. You hand me mine and I take a sip. A big one. I lean back on the couch and ask what's new. Idle chit chat, it's our thing. Our build up. I unzip my jacket, revealing my cleavage. I know you can't resist and watch your eyes follow my hands. We continue to catch up, but I'm horny and want to switch the mood. I excuse myself to the bathroom. I take off my jacket and tank top, leaving my bra on, but expose both breasts.

Casually I stroll back into the living room. You look up as I enter and smile. Before you can get up I join you on the couch. I straddle your lap and ask if you can help me with the clasp on my bra. Immediately you undo the clasp and my tits are released. I lean back and grab my glass, finishing the contents. You barely let me set the cup down before you pull me towards your mouth and start sucking my nipples. It feels so good, I begin to moan and rock. I grab your face and force my tongue in your mouth. Without abdomen we start making out.

I love making out, and you old guys, you love it too. You love the way I kiss, although you don't trust I won't leave hickeys as I begin to suck on your neck. You stop me and give me that look. Dirty old man, you know you want it. I smile coyly and ask, "What?"

"Be nice," you tell me. I smile with my tongue between my teeth. I like when you scold me. I like to be bad. I lean back in, licking your lips, gently applying pressure. I slip my tongue back in your mouth, sliding it along yours. You told me no one has ever kissed you that passionately. I'm not sure I believe you, but I have yet to meet the person that likes to kiss as much as I.

I love the control, the sounds, the necking. Making out can be so erotic. Clothes on, frantic touching, rubbing, breathing. Just the thought of making out can make me even hornier than being fucked. That's why I like old guys. They love to lick and suck and kiss. Reminds them of being the horny teenage boy they barely out grew. And they are dirty. They have no filter, but it's all wrapped up in this experienced, appreciative old man that has lived life and just wants to relax and chase women. These thoughts are making me wet.

I push you into the couch and take control. I fuck you with my tongue and I grind my pussy into your lap. I can feel you growing harder. I haven't dry humped since I was a teenager and it's turning me on. I feel like grandpa's little secret. No one is home and you're teaching me how to move. It makes me quicken the pace.

"Is this right?" I ask, "Do you like it like this?"

"Mmm", you moan, "you like sitting in my lap don't you?"

"I just want to make you feel good," I say.

"Are you my little whore? Are you grandpa's little treat?"

"Yes," I gasp as you, once again, pop my nipple in your mouth.

"Suck harder," I say, pushing my tits in your face, whimpering as I continue rub my cunt on your hardened dick.

"Let me feel that little pussy," you say as you reach between my legs. My pants are damp with my wet juices. As you rub, you can feel my swollen mound, naked, but for the yoga pants. You cup my cunt and allow me to move back and forth. The pressure of your hand tightening and your finger pressing my red hot button makes me moan.

"Oh fuck, feel that wet pussy," I breathe. My body is about to explode. I put my hands on the couch behind you, place mouth on yours and grind down hard on your hand. I'm swiveling my hips and sucking your tongue like the tip of your dick. Suddenly I can't hold back. I feel the warm juices gushing out my cunt and I toss my head back and ride the wave. Enjoying the access to my tits you suck until I stop moving. I'm breathless, but far from satisfied.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I should have waited for you, but it feels so good when you touch me."

"Don't be," you say as you rub your finger back over my wet pants and lick them. "There' still time for me to show you other good touches."