I Became a Cougar

Allen and I married 18 years ago. We were madly in love and swore to be together until death did us part. I was 24 years old at the time and quite naive. Allen swapped me off my feet with his good looks, nice manners, weekly flowers, and abundant compliments.

He was also the one who took my virginity. Our first sexual encounter was a failure: I had no idea what to do, and his gentle guidance wasn't very helpful. In the end he took matters into his hands, literally, and ruptured my hymen with his finger before penetrating my vagina with his penis and cumming inside. Afterward, he apologized profusely for not making me orgasm, and I forgave him. Everything started improving once I read several articles about sexual acts and what made men tick. I also bought a couple of porno videos and watched them when nobody was around.

Within 3 months, our sexual intercourse became part and parcel of our daily life. Allen climaxed once each and every time we had sex, but at the same time, he made sure I came at least twice. Six months into our marriage, in addition to oral jobs and missionary positions, we experimented in doggy style, cowgirl, sex on a table, on the carpet, and on the laundromat. We both loved our sex, and with no exception, in the first year we did it at least once a day!

In the second year, Allen was busier at work. He returned home later and more tired. We still managed to get physical at least 4 times a week. On his birthday, I let him titfuck me. I massaged his hard 6" with my D cup tits, and when he was ready to shoot his stuff, I bent my neck, wrapped my lips around his spongy head, and sucked his spunk while still rubbing his tool between my firm breasts. He was elated and claimed it was the best birthday present he had ever gotten.

On his next birthday, I let him have my ass. He never asked for it, but judging from the porno movies he brought home, it was obvious the subject was on his mind. The truth? I was scared to death his rod would tear my anus, but I was determined to try it. My best friend confided in me that she loved it, and I made up my mind to give my loving husband the best birthday present. During the act Allen was very patient. He used a lot of KY jelly, invaded me with his forefinger, then used circular movements to dilate the hole. Next, he penetrated with a second finger, waited until my sphincter adjusted, shoved a medium size dildo, and only then began gradually inserting his stiff cock. He stopped a few times to ensure my butt accommodated his tool before advancing further. Only when he was all the way in, and my ass was highly lubed, he started pounding me. To cut the story short, it was amazing! While his cock plowed my back hole, his fingers played with my hard nipple and my clitty. I was in heaven, screaming my heart out and begging him to fuck me harder. The orgasm felt different than a vaginal one, but it was fantastic. After the first time, anal sex appeared on the menu in future encounters.

Life was good: Allen earned well, and I went to 3 different courses to learn computer sciences. When I finished, I began working as a web page designer. Soon I became known in our neck of the woods, and I had customers waiting in line for my services.

I may be biased when judging myself, but one drawback I knew I had: Every week I invested $30 buying lottery tickets. I was doing it for years, and often even forgot to check the numbers. Multiple times I won small amounts of money, but never more than $200. Usually, I left the lottery tickets on my dresser.

One afternoon, I came home, and Allen hugged me enthusiastically. I was confused; it wasn't my birthday or our anniversary. "Honey, what is it about?"

"Check the ticket on your dresser."

I didn't believe my eyes: The numbers matched the big prize! I checked and rechecked over and over to make sure the date was right, and that the numbers were clearly seen, but everything was kosher.

Allen advised me to take a lump sum in cash rather than weekly or monthly payments. After paying the taxes, we ended up with $38,000,000. We were rich! We celebrated by going on a week trip to Maui and later traveled to France. Everything was perfect!

...

The troubles began when I was 35. I was still working as before, exercising 3 times a week, and went to yoga classes. My 128 pound weight was adequate for my 5'4", and I thought I still looked good. In fact, my girlfriends were jealous of my figure, and the guys ogled me and gave hints they were interested if I was.

However, Allen seemed to slowly drift away. Initially, it was subtle. Too often his arrival time from work was very late, he frequently got job assignments out of town, and his phone, which before was always placed on his dresser when he went to the bathroom, was no longer there. But the best clue was the fact that our sex life diminished dramatically. He always found an excuse for why not. I remembered that in the first years, whether he was tired or even sick, he pounced on me whenever he saw me in my underwear. No more.

I had my suspicions but I didn't want to believe. Allen was the love of my life. One day, when he was supposedly at work, I called him because of a broken pipe that led to a flood in our house. He didn't answer. I called Sam, who worked with Allen and was a good friend too. He said that Allen left early, claiming there was a problem at home, and never came back to work.

I called a 24/7 plumbing company, and after an hour, I managed to find somebody who promised to come in 2 hours. Allen showed up at 7 pm, before the plumber arrived, and saw the water all over. He mumbled, "Honey, I was busy all day at work. Sam and I worked on a hard project. You could have called me and let me know there was a problem."

I stared into his eyes, "What is the important project Sam and you are working on?"

"Darling, I don't want to bore you, but we sat the whole day thinking how to solve an issue and came up with an original solution."

I picked up my phone and said nonchalantly, "You don't mind if I call Sam and ask him why he kept you at work until now, do you?"

His face became pale, "Please hang up the phone. It's too late. He is probably eating now, and we should not bother him."

"Allen, either you tell me the truth, or I call him."

"Honey, it's the truth, why don't you believe me?"

I dialed Sam's number. It rang once, and then Allen grabbed the phone from my hands and turned it off. I looked at him and waited.

He stuttered, "Moira, leet's sit and haave a talk."

Allen gazed at me for a long time. He seemed very uncomfortable. "Moira," he started, "I want a divorce."

I was sure I didn't hear him well, "What are you saying?"

"I am in love with another woman, and wish us to finish our marriage the best possible way."

I was in shock, "Who is this woman, and how long did you know her?"

"She is a 23 years old who joined me as an assistant about 2 years ago. We liked each other from day one but started to meet each other a few months later."

"So you were lying to me for more than a year and a half, and even tonight if I hadn't caught you, you planned to continue the charade."

"I didn't know how to tell you my wish without hurting you..."

"How the fuck would you announce something like that without hurting me?!"

"I wasn't sure..."

"Take your stuff and leave the house. NOW!"

"Can't we talk about it?"

"Fuck off before I call the police."

He arranged a suitcase with necessary things and before leaving, he said, "In the upcoming weekend, I'll take the rest of my stuff. I am really sorry it happened this way, but I fell in love with Lara."

"Bull shit! You are a middle aged man who is attracted to a spring chicken, hoping to revive your youth through her. Leave!"

On Saturday, he showed up in a truck, packed his clothes and memorabilia and left. Later, we talked several times on the phone about our finances and divided equally everything, including my winning lottery ticket. The last time I saw Allen was when the divorce was finalized.

...

In the first weeks after our official separation, I was embarrassed, angry, and depressed. How could I not see it coming? Except for my 2 best friends, I avoided anybody from our former circle.

One day Sandy knocked on my door. She and I drank Chardonnay, and I opened up to her about my frustrations. She listened, then hugged me and said, "Honey, you are not the only one who suffered the consequences of a husband with middle age crisis who chases little girls. My first husband had the same flaw. I divorced the bastard and started going out with young studs. Like you, I had enough money and didn't want children, so my solution was to date young guys, have sex with them, and dump them when I was bored with their stupidity or performance. After years of living the good life, my current husband pursued me and persuaded me to marry him. As you know, he is 10 years younger, a funny gentleman, but still a tiger in bed."

Sandy and I continued sipping the wine and got drunk. For the life of me, I couldn't remember what else we discussed. The next morning I found myself fully dressed in my bed with a terrible headache. I took Tylenol and began thinking what to do next. I drank tea with toast and listened to my answering machine with the dozens of calls asking me to build or improve their web pages. When the headache subsided, I decided that neglecting my normal life would be a victory for Allen. I would never let it happen.

I dressed up nicely, started arranging my work itinerary to begin on Monday, did some shopping and returned to the health club I did not attend for weeks.

During the weekend, I thought about Sandy's advice to go out with young guys. I knew I looked good because everywhere I went, men of all ages ogled me. My red hair, green eyes, and busty figure were a magnet for the dumb gender. After several hours of hesitation, I decided to give it a try. I wore my short black dress with 3" heel pumps, let my hair loose, and added red hot lipstick.

At 8 pm, I drove to a bar near the university, where young crowd gathered every evening. I was lucky to find a table for 2, likely because it was still early. I ordered Cosmopolitan, and sipped it slowly. I relaxed with my eyes half closed, and without moving my head, explored the small crowd. There was a group of 5 young college boys that made a lot of noise, probably already under the influence. Two young couples chatted in a corner. And there were 3 men sitting at the bar: An older balding guy, a short young student, and a tall dark guy.

One time or another, everybody glanced at me. Were they guessing if I waited for my husband? Was I interested in company? Or perhaps I was a prostitute. I didn't know them and cared less what they thought. After finishing my drink, I got more courage and stared at the dark guy. His eyes met mine 30 seconds later. He smiled. I smiled back. He pointed his wish to join me. I nodded 'yes.'

He stood up and began walking in my direction. His moves reminded me of John Wayne's walk. The closer he came, I saw he was very young. A student in the university? He was very tall, with dark brown face and square jaw. Very manly.

He approached me, and politely asked, "Lady, may I take the seat near you?"

"Young man, you may."

He saw my glass was empty, "Ma'am, before I sit down, let me order you a drink. What will it be?"

"Another Cosmo, please."

He brought my cocktail and a Heineken for himself. He sat, gazed at me with a smile and said in a baritone voice, "I watched you from the bar. You are not only very pretty, but you look very different than any lady I ever met. I love the combination of red hair and green eyes."

I've heard similar lines before, but the guy was friendly, and I had no intention of discouraging him, "Thank you. What is your name?"

"Mike. I am a senior in the university, and about to graduate in 3 months."

I chuckled, "Mike, you are handsome and a gentleman. Why aren't you spending time with a girl your age?"

He grinned, "I had 2 girlfriends before. Both of them were pretty and nice. However, both were addicted to their phone and social media. More importantly, call it a fetish if you want, I am more attracted to more mature women."

"I get what you are saying. However, in my book, a more mature woman should be up to 10 years older than you. If I estimate correctly, you are about 21 years old, which will make you exactly half my age..."

His eyes inspected my face, and he blurted, "I don't believe you. You do not look older than 30, and it's not a compliment."

"You are a dear, but I had my 42nd birthday a week ago."

"You just had your birthday, and you are alone here? What a shame. May I invite you to a place of your choice to celebrate your birthday in style?"

I chuckled, "Do you mean like The Cheesecake Factory, where they'll stick 42 candles on the cake and sing Happy Birthday to me?"

"Lady, I'll be happy to take you wherever your heart desires."

"Mike, my name is Moira. I am not in the mood for a restaurant, but if you are interested in watching a movie, I'll agree."

"Let's see what movies are playing now in the area."

We checked online, and Emma Stone's Poor things was supposed to start in 15 minutes in a theater nearby. I drove behind Mike, and we arrived right when the lights went off. The movie was already playing for several weeks, and not many people were in the audience. Once I sat down, Mike went to buy popcorn and soda. He sat on my left, and placed the popcorn and soda between us. I concentrated on the screen and now and then grabbed a handful of popcorn without looking. One time I hit the bucket, and it spilled on his pants. I was ready to apologize but then noticed Mike was having a big tent in his pants. I glanced at my cleavage, and it became clear: The upper part of my dress separated from my chest, and my bra-covered tits were on full display.

I smiled at Mike, "You are a bad boy. Instead of watching the film, you stare at my breasts, aren't you?"

He stuttered, "Soorry. You look soo attractive, that I couldn't taake my eyes off yoou."

"Well, you got your punishment already: Your pants will be stained. I forgive you, and to prove it, you can place your hand around my shoulder. You may continue ogling my chest, but I think you'll be missing a good movie."

I focused on the screen and liked the movie. Occasionally, I glimpsed at Mike, who was now peeking at my cleavage unabashedly most of the time. His attempts to find the right angle to see more of my tits were funny, like a young boy trying to touch an unreachable fruit.

At one point I couldn't resist the temptation; I pretended to grab a handful of popcorn from the bucket without looking, but my hand moved much lower and landed on his towering cock. Yes, my admirer had a raging pecker pushing his pants upward. I continued watching the movie, lightly caressed his bulge and whispered, "Mikey, your dick is ready for an attack. Am I the enemy?"

He mumbled, "Moira, you are MUCH more interesting than the movie."

"Nice compliment, young man. Let's make a deal: I want to see the rest of the movie without interference, and in return, I'll let you not just see, but even touch my breasts. Deal?"

"Oh, thank you, Moira."

Next, I pulled his palm that rested on my shoulder, and shoved the fingers onto my tit. His touch was warm and gentle. His fingers trembled and gingerly massaged my smooth skin. As I tried desperately to concentrate on the plot, I felt his hand reaching for my nipple. It hardened before he touched it, and I felt a tingle in my pussy as it became moist. Mike's eyes were now directed forward, as his hand tweaked my nipple and then rolled it between 2 fingers. His soft touch was tantalizing and arousing. I haven't had sex in a while, and I was becoming very horny.

I whispered, "Your magic hand makes me very horny."

He murmured in my ear, "Prove it."

I raised myself slightly, lifted the hem of my dress up, pulled his hand out of my cleavage, and placed it on my covered cunt. The low cut panties were damped.

From the corner of my eye, I could see he grinned, "Moira, it's my fault. I would be the happiest man alive if you allow me to take care of it."

I didn't think twice, "Do it."

Subsequently, he moved before me, parted my legs, and knelt down in between. In retrospect, we were lucky the movie was playing in a theater with ample leg room...

For a couple of minutes, his fingers rubbed tenderly the front of my panties, and then he pushed the panties to the side and touched my soaked labia. His gentle touch made me moan and close my eyes. Seconds later I felt his tongue licking my vulva. God, I haven't felt that good for a long, LONG time!

His tongue moved around the folds and then penetrated the opening, sending electric shocks through my body. I grabbed his hair and pulled him deeper into my cunt. For such a young guy, he seemed to know exactly how to perform a pleasurable oral.

All of a sudden, his tongue hit my sensitive love button, and I screamed. I opened my eyes and saw 2 men looking in our direction from 5 rows in front of us. They couldn't see much due to the darkness, and I put my palm on my mouth to block any other noise that might come out of it. In the meantime, Mike continued assaulting my clitoris and licking my juices. I came with a bang within seconds. My body was shivering erratically, and I couldn't stop whimpering. Then Mike inserted 2 fingers into my pussy and massaged my G spot. I screamed again and heard in the background somebody shouting, "Hey guys, we want to see the movie!" I was in heaven and wasn't sure what was happening.

My boy continued fingering and lapping my cunt for a long time before slowing down, allowing me to land safely on my seat. I was exhausted, yet very happy. I rested for 5 minutes and looked at him. His tent was still easily seen. I unzipped his fly and murmured, "You were extremely nice. I am very tired, but I'll give you a hand job."

Apparently, Mike was very aroused, because he came in my fist after less than a minute. I collected his spunk in my palm, and when he was done, I winked at him and licked it hungrily. It tasted somewhat oily, mildly salty, and savory. Yes, I liked it...

Thirty minutes later, the movie was over. On our way to the car, I said, "Thank you for the movie and the special 'treatment."

He looked at me pleadingly, "Moira, may I see you again?"

I smiled, "Honey, you played with my breasts already. Are you sure you are still interested?"

"Please, I want to know you better. I loved chatting with you. And you are very beautiful and sexy..."

"Would you like to come to my house next Saturday morning, let's say 10 am?"

"That will be fantastic."

I gave him my phone number and address, and he drove me back to my car. When we separated, he kissed my lips tenderly. I hugged him but felt weird; I was kissing a boy who I just allowed into my privates. And enjoyed it. Immensely!...

...

Friday evening I went to sleep late, trying to think about what I was doing; I invited to my home a young stranger planning to have sex with him... He was cute, but so young! Was I becoming a cougar like my friend?

During the night I had a bizarre dream. I dreamt he agreed to fuck me only if I helped him with his homework. I agreed, and together we finished his assignment. Later he had sex with me, but it was too gentle, as if his mind wasn't into it. I begged him to be more aggressive, but he claimed he loved me and couldn't do it rougher. I didn't climax and ended up frustrated. I woke up covered with cold sweat.

In the morning, I sat in my hot tub for almost an hour, telling myself it was only a bad dream. I hesitated what to wear. I was still horny after my dream. Should I wear a nice blouse and a midi-style skirt to hint I was a respectable lady? Would it be better to wear a tight, short dress with high heel shoes to emphasize my sexy side? After a long thought process that included a fight between my brain and my cunt, the lower part won. Why fight my urges? He already tasted my body and made me feel good, so why hide my wish to enjoy his whole body? In the end I wore a nice long robe with nothing underneath and added shiny red lipstick.