An older lady from abroad asked if I would write a story about a mature widow being seduced by a much younger man. She had three specific requests. First, she wanted her name and age (58) to be used along with being written in a fashion that didn't paint the woman as a cock hungry cougar waiting to pounce. Second, she wanted it to be about one of those older women you meet who's sort of a flirt and giggly by nature. You know the one I'm talking about, an extra pound or two, rather buxom, always a smile on their face and a kind word on their lips. Third, she did not want to preview the story, but rather to wait until she saw her name in the title of a story on Literotica.
I know the boarding house theme is anything but new, you might call this my contribution, adding to the dozens written before mine. The story is short compared to many of my other submissions, but it sure was fun to write. Ella, thank you for trusting me with your idea, I sincerely hope this met your expectations.
Ella's Boarding House
I felt his cock swell and twitch as he began to slow slightly, his strokes seemingly more purposeful than the hard slamming he'd been doing for some time now. I could feel it pulse and knew my reward was on the way. He'd slowly undressed my older plump body, not making fun of tits that to me always seemed too big for my body, nor the large nipples. Though there are some stretch marks, my breasts no longer stand proud like they did at 25, and yet, he eagerly put the hard nipples into his mouth. Pulling my breasts together so the nipples were side by side, he momentarily sucked both at the same time.
The large cup industrial strength bra lay on the floor along with my rumpled cotton house dress. No sexy lace or frills here, just a simple heavy-duty bra that held everything in place. When he slid his hands inside my waist high white cotton briefs, there was no look of disapproval as I watched him in the mirror, no smirk as my greying bush came into view. I was warm and wet inside, but he would need to make me wet on the outside by other means, preferably his tongue. Moving me onto my back instead of sitting astride his legs he grabbed the waistband of my panties and uttered softly, "lift", raising my hips he slid them off in one deft movement.
Placing his hands on my knees he opened me completely, I wanted to be embarrassed at my nakedness, my pussy wide open and on display. Anxious for what it had been missing since my childhood sweetheart, my loving late husband Andrew, had died four years prior. Four years of having no one's hands on my most private parts except me. I'd never been one to pleasure myself, after all, why would I when I had a well-hung cock master disguised as my husband exercising his conjugal rights no less than three to four times a week.
I missed that warm sensuous feeling in my tummy and nether region that came with foreplay. I didn't think I could duplicate those feelings and sensations by trying to pleasure myself, and at the age of 58 I wasn't going to try. Reality overtook my thinking process when I watched him put an index finger in my mouth to make wet. Sliding the saliva coated finger inside me he began to slowly move it in and out of my vagina. It took no time before my hips began to raise and lower with the strokes, I smiled thinking that Andrew would have said it was like riding a bike. You may be out of practice, but you never really forget.
As he sucked my rather large nipples, moving from one to the other, I found my fingers had woven into his hair. Slowly, ever so slowly I began pushing his head down my body, my body was on fire, with his finger still inside he softly kissed the pudenda. I shrieked and humped into his face, from that point forward I was his to do with as he pleased. The fingers of his free hand were gently tracing through my bush, it isn't one that covers my entire mons, it's rather small compared to some of the girls I see in the showers at the YWCA, but it's thick with long curly hair. I smiled thinking about how as a young girl I would watch the kittens feeding, their little paws stimulating the udder for her to let down milk. That's what it seemed like, him slowly massaging my tummy as he was about to lick, urging me toward the ultimate goal, an orgasm.
My tits were splayed to the sides as he withdrew the finger and moved his hands under my thighs, slowly he reached up to play with my breasts. Cupping each one he pushed them more toward the center of my torso, while he was playing I was slowly going ape shit knowing his lips were a breath away from the extremely blood engorged and puffy pudenda he had just kissed. I could feel his warm breath on my pussy at the same time he was squeezing and moulding my tits, sliding the fingers forward he soon had my nipples in his grasp. How did he know I loved them to be tweaked without hurting me, to be pulled and pinched lightly? As he slowly pulled the nipples outward from my body I felt him lick my pussy with the flat of his tongue.
When his tongue neared the top of my slit he moved his hands away from my tits to the inside of my thighs. Using his fingers he opened the labia, splitting the few hairs which grow freely, exposing the bright pink inner labia as well as my hardened clit. I had loved my husband Andrew since childhood, though he had been well hung and took care of my needs, he had never been as patient and detail oriented as Lewis. I was enjoying sex as I'd never experienced it before, I could feel the heartbeat in my clit as blood coursed through it. With my pussy open his tongue wasted no time finding my sweet spot, he would lick and then move, then lick that spot again only to tease and move away from it.
Pulling back to look up he whispered, "Nice pussy Ella, tastes lovely."
My plump roly-poly hips were automatically rising and falling, I couldn't have stopped the motions if I'd wanted to. I'd had one orgasm and was headed toward number two when he shifted position again, that was enough teasing for me. I grabbed his ears and stuffed his face right where I wanted it. I heard him chuckle as he busied himself and licked me to a tsunami orgasm. I had never before squirted in my life, I wouldn't be able to say that anymore. I had both hands on my breasts, squeezing, pulling, twisting the nipples as my body convulsed.
He rose to his knees smiling at me, my girl juices coated his chin and cheeks, I could see droplets of my cream in the upper chest hairs. His hands were on my knees holding them open as he moved forward, I was wet enough from the orgasm that he slid through the pearly gates and into my previously dormant love sheath with minimal resistance. It was just over four years since a cock had been inside me, much less a young virile cock that could respond quickly and keep this older lady in sensual nirvana. As his tall body hovered over my five-foot seven-inch frame with his cock just inside me all I could think about was having him balls deep.
Then I remembered back to the night I gave my maiden head to Andrew, it was the first time for both of us. Though we'd talked about the moment of pain and discomfort I would feel, neither of us were ready for my reaction as the thick head of his dick broke my hymen. I let out a screech and immediately passed out, it scared Andrew so badly he pulled back and waited for me to recover, wanted to know if we should stop. I took his face in my hands and admonished him.
"Bullshit Andrew, you popped my cherry, you're damned sure going to finish this."
It seemed like the same thing was happening again forty some years later. The large head of Lewis cut cock was slowly opening my vaginal walls wider and wider as he pushed forward. I giggled internally picturing a V-plow on the front of a county truck pushing through drifts of snow. I could feel the walls of my pussy hugging tightly, caressing his cock, inviting it to go deeper, wanting it to open me completely. Lewis was just slightly bigger than my Andrew had been, I was being stretched in the same manner my late husband had done for years, and then some.
I smiled to myself as a thought floated through my head, 'Just because this pussy is 58 doesn't mean it can't still suck the life out of a well-endowed young man. A well-endowed and obviously experienced young man of 23 years.' I gave a sigh of happiness when his pubic hair meshed with mine. Lots of ladies talk about their "bush", though mine was thick and curly, it had never been much more than a small patch, but hubby liked it, so I liked it. My young lover stopped when he bottomed out, looked at me and asked.
"Are you okay Ella, should I continue?"
I answered by pushing my hips into him and whispered, "Give it to me. Your cock feels so good."
