I Became a Cougar

In previous chapters, after I caught my husband cheating with a much younger girl, I divorced him. One day, I went to a bar near the university and met a college student named Mike. He was attractive and interesting. We went to a movie together, ending the evening in bed. Sex with him was excellent, and we continued our intimate relationship. Later that year, we went together to a class party and met his black friend Malcolm, who danced with me and seemed fascinated by me. Then Mike told me he got accepted to Stanford and would soon move to the west coast. We felt bad about the separation. Before leaving, Mike said Malcolm needed my help creating a web page.

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After accompanying Mike to the airport, I returned home. Malcolm's request to contact him and work on his web page bothered me. I recalled our interaction in the party, and remembered both of us became aroused on the dance floor.

Did I want to face the high probability it was his way of telling me he was still interested in me? Malcolm was a black guy. I had never dated a black guy before, and from what I heard when I was growing up, some African-Americans were scary. He was Mike's age. He was also tall, handsome, and very gentle with me at the party...

I thought about it for 3 days and then called him, "Hi Malcolm. This is Moira. Mike asked me to call you about creating a web page."

His deep voice filled the air, "Thank you for doing it. I actually have a web page already, but it is rudimentary and does not help me much. I need a new and more flashy one that will do a better job at attracting potential clients."

"What are you using it for?"

"In the last 2 years I created several software packages. The first one can help customers find the nearest place with a unique product they are searching for. The second guides drivers to the fuel stations and best restaurants nearby. The third program helps college students navigate and study the curriculum."

"Are you sure similar apps do not exist already?"

"I checked my ideas against classic programs and mine are faster and more accurate. I think that with an impressive web page design, a few software companies may show interest and buy one program or more from me."

"I understand. Would you like to work on it in my house or yours?"

"If it's OK with you, I'd rather do it in my place, because in addition to the stuff on my laptop, I can show you other things I prepared: Sketches on paper and samples I made from Legos and toys."

"Will next weekend be good for you?"

"Perfect. Unlike Mike who left town, I registered with the local university, so I will be staying here in the near future."

"How about Saturday at 10 am?"

"That will be great. By the time you'll be here, I'll have coffee or tea ready, as well as a tasty chocolate cake."

I laughed, "Is your intention to bribe me with the good food or fatten me?"

"Moira, if can be bribed by coffee and cake, you are not doing very well in your profession. And fatten you? That is hardly the case. I remember you as having a terrific figure. I do not think that losing or gaining pounds will improve on your current ideal body."

"During our dance, you got quite... excited. Do you promise no shenanigans when I am at your house?"

"Moira, I know most white women are scared of blacks, especially tall ones, like me, but I can assure you there is 0 chance I'll do anything you don't want, even though I am attracted to you."

I chuckled, "Flatterer. OK. Give me your address and I'll be there."

...

Saturday morning, I stood in my bedroom naked in front of the large mirror and examined myself. My face was still pretty for my age, and I knew that by adding a touch of makeup and red lipstick, it would look even better. My hair was red all over without trace of white yet. But why would I even bother with my face? 100% of men focused on my figure anyway, especially my prominent chest. I inspected my breasts. They were firm with only mild sag. As my eyes explored my tits, the nipples hardened and looked like large raisins. I grinned: Men would have similar thoughts and be tempted to suck the sweet raisin... My tummy was flat and feminine, with a cute belly button. As of late, I completely shaved my mound and liked the appearance of my labia. Unlike other women in the health club, my folds were symmetrical and not too puffy. My hips were slightly too wide for my taste, though I never heard complaints about them from Allen or Mike. Overall, not bad for a... thirty-twelve years old, LOL.

So I looked OK. What should I wear? I hesitated and then selected a short-sleeved blouse, a midi-style skirt, and flat shoes. I wished to emphasize my intention was really to work on his web page. I wondered if I tried to convince Malcolm or... myself.

I was anxious and before leaving, I chugged a glass of white wine, and added makeup, red lipstick, and little mascara.

I Parked by a small house and rang his doorbell at 10:10 am. I ogled Malcolm. His tall, athletic build was very impressive. He wore a beige suit which emphasized his very dark skin. The smiley face contrasted with the ruggedness of his jaw. He was definitely a beautiful specimen of a young guy.

He handed me a box of Belgian chocolates and blurted, "Moira, now you look even prettier than in the party."

I smiled, "Is this what YOU think or Forrest Gump?"

Malcolm chuckled, "You refer to the 'box of chocolates,' don't you?"

"I was surprised to get the chocolates as I entered the front door."

"I try to butter you up. You'll get a piece of cake and coffee too, but first, I wanted you to enjoy the sweet taste of good candies, so you'd be in a good mood."

"You don't have to try hard. I AM in a good mood!"

"Great. Let me just operate my Keurig. By the way, you want coffee, not tea, am I right?"

"Coffee will be good. Please add some milk and a sweetener."

As he moved to the kitchen to prepare the coffee, I glanced at his living room. One wall had multiple pictures of black people, likely family and relatives. On another wall there were photos of nice scenery from different parts of the world.

I didn't hear him approaching until he was behind me. He mumbled, "These are places I wish to visit one day." He was so close, I could smell him. It was again the same expensive Bulgari as before. For some reason, I trembled lightly.

I turned around as he placed the coffee and cake on the table. He said, "Let's eat and drink first, and then get to work. OK?"

"Fine with me. Mike mentioned to me you were on the basketball team and the 2 of you were friends. Tell me something else about you."

"There is nothing interesting about my life: I grew up in a black neighborhood, but unlike many others around, both my parents had decent jobs and we never had financial issues. I have an older brother in the army and a younger sister who's about to start college next year. Since high school, I divided my free time between studying and tutoring needy students. With Dad's help, I had enough money for initial payment to buy a house, and now it is in my name, with a mortgage for 20 years, that I hope to pay in 10. Moira, as I said, nothing interesting about my life. I am curious to hear about yours."

"The first thing I can say is that I am 42. It sounds very old to me, but I cannot change it. My life as a child was complicated, because, as a classic redhead, I was short tempered and argued too much. Everything changed when I went to high school. My body has changed, and people saw my body rather than ME. I was swapped off my feet by a handsome guy named Allen and eventually married him. The beginning was heaven, but then he cheated on me with a spring chicken, and I divorced him. I was depressed due to my failed marriage and decided to drown my sorrow at a local bar. Over there I met Mike. He was nice, offered me a drink, and invited me to the movies. I felt funny to leave the house with a boy half my age, but I did it anyway. To cut the story short, we felt good together, started dating, and the rest is history."

Malcolm ogled my face and blurted, "I can see why Mike was attracted to you. Not that your age matters, but you DO look much younger. And your face is very pretty."

"Thank you. You look great too. And now, after we finished discussing our prior lives and the coffee cups are empty, we can talk about the web page you wish to have."

He chortled, "You are all business, aren't you?"

"Isn't that the reason you wanted me to come here?"

He stuttered, "It's paartially true. I want a web page that wiill entice people to look at the content oon the site, but I also waanted to see YOOU again."

I stared at his face. He grimaced and I was sure he blushed, though his black skin hid it successfully. I murmured, "At least you are honest about your motives."

He said, "Moira, whatever happens, you can be sure I'll never attempt to deceive you."

"Malcolm, show me your site, so I can start thinking about the optimal way to design the front page."

For 40 minutes, he went through the site. Soon it became clear his site was not organized adequately. He had a lot of ideas, hypotheses, and data. However, there was no logic to way he displayed everything, and the connections between concepts and methods of implementation were not clear. Everything was theoretical with complicated sentences and nothing to attract the eyes: No graphs or pictures.

I gazed at him and said, "Look, I can make you a web page, but it won't help much. The whole site is one big mess. It may hurt you to hear that, but I am trying to be objective, honest, and help you. Even if I was able to come up with the best page ever, everything else is unorganized, and nobody would bother to go through everything. I know nothing about the 3 subjects you chose, but I think you should rework on everything and make it simpler, more concise, and grammatically better. I can help you organize everything, but you'll have to check the logic and whether my understanding of your stuff is adequate."

Malcolm had a grim smile, "Basically, what you are telling me is that everything I did so far was a waste of time."

I saw his face and felt sorry for him, "Not really. Your concepts and ideas may be valid, and the methods could work. However, in order TO SELL your stuff, you have to convince other people everything is worth the money you want them to invest in it. So our job is to make your program simpler, more coherent, and frankly, more attractive to the eyes."

He joked, "Attractive like you?"

I grinned, "Thanks for telling me I look OK, but an attractive app means something different. If your goal is to sell pornographic material, putting racy pictures may entice the right people to examine your program, but you wish to persuade another crowd: Travelers, car drivers, students, etc. These men and women may be more impressed with photos of beautiful scenery, like the ones you have on your wall or smiling family members driving on nice roads."

"Pity. One of my suggestions would have been to put YOUR picture on the front page. I bet both genders will be curious about the inside content... Anyway, I'll work later on rearranging my ideas in a more understandable way. In the meantime, since you know more or less where I am trying to go, can you help me generate an eye catching web page?"

"I have a better suggestion. Let's meet again next weekend. You'll have your program better organized, and I'll bring several samples of a front page to start with. OK?"

"Moira, I like your logic, but you'll work on my ideas, and you haven't seen money yet. At least, let me invite you to a good dinner at a restaurant. What is your favorite food?"

I laughed, "The food is less important to me than the atmosphere. Seafood, Italian, French, Greek, whatever."

"I have a friend who works in the evenings in a nice Italian restaurant by the seashore. On multiple occasions he asked me to come, and I never wanted to go there by myself. Would you join me?"

"Is Tuesday evening a good time?"

"I'll call him and verify that at 6:30 or 7 we'll have a table."

I stood up, "Here is my phone number and address. Call me with the details."

He stared at me with pleading eyes.

I looked into his eyes, and a shiver went through my back, "What?..."

"You are smart and so pretty that I have the urge to kiss you."

"Malcolm, you wanted us to work on a project together. Mixing work with pleasure is not my style; it usually results in nonconstructive atmosphere."

"God! You are so logical all the time. Do you ever express feelings?"

This big guy looked so vulnerable and offended, that I felt for him, "Look, I can't deny you are a handsome and attractive hunk, but as I said, getting involved emotionally or physically will be detrimental to working efficiently together."

"Geez, lady. Even when you describe something that sounds like emotion, you are too rational. You have no idea how tempted I am right now to take you in my arms and kiss you..."

"You won't dare!..."

He smirked, "You don't want me to do it, or you guess I won't dare?"

I don't know what went through my mind at that moment: Seeing him standing helpless begging to kiss me, not having sex for too long, and remembering his erection against my body when we danced at the party - All came together, and before thinking rationally, my mouth blurted, "YOU WON'T DARE..."

He smiled and slowly came my way. Our eyes ogled each other. I couldn't move even if I wanted to... His large palms cupped my cheeks, and he kissed my lips tenderly. It was such a gentle kiss, I wanted to cry. Then he lifted my chin and whispered, "Moira, you are so beautiful, I have to kiss you again."

I didn't answer, just stared at his rugged face, unable to move.

He kissed me, this time more demanding, and his lips parted mine. His thick tongue invaded my mouth and looped around mine, pulling it into his mouth. He sucked on it lightly, and I melted into him.

I mumbled, "Malcolm, what are you doing to me?..."

"I am showing you that there is more to life than working. I want you so much."

I murmured, "You are so unfair. I thought we agreed to restrict everything to working together." I could barely talk, and my legs refused to move away from him.

"Not according to my recollection, dear. YOU said it."

Then he French kissed me again. I felt lightheaded and let him control me. I felt his hand gently caress my hair. I didn't react; I just rested in his strong arms.

He kissed me one more time, and his hand moved gradually from my face southward. I knew exactly what was coming but was powerless to stop him. The hand continued to my neck, shoulder, and then it reached my covered chest. He gingerly rubbed my boob and said, "Moira, your bosom attracted me like a magnet since the first time I saw you. You are very pretty, and your red hair and green eyes are very special, but the hidden treasure in your chest is just impossible to ignore."

"Please, Malcolm, let's think about it before we jump into uncharted territory."

"Why? Through your blouse I can feel your nipples hardening. And I have similar reaction." Next, he took my hand and placed it on a giant bulge in his pants.

Without noticing it, my palm closed on his covered tool. Only later I realized what I did and attempted to release him, but Malcolm's fingers pushed my hand back onto his member. It was enormous; MUCH bigger than Allen's and bigger than Mike's too. Was it because of his height? Because he was black? I had no idea, yet the knowledge filled me with mixed emotions. I was scared of its size, but at the same time it made me very horny... What the hell was wrong with me? I have never felt like that before. I was weak in my knees and wobbled. Malcolm lifted me in his arms, kissed my forehead and blurted, "Honey, it's OK, I'll take care of you."

Subsequently, he carried me to his bedroom, lay me on the bed, joined me, and his palm gently fondled my trembling body. He looked into my eyes, "I promised not to do anything against your will, and I plan to keep my word. I want to have you, but if you rather go home, I won't stop you."

His eyes explored mine for an answer. I was frozen: My mind told me to leave, yet my body refused. I was stuck, unable to move. I had no idea if Malcolm knew about my internal struggle, but since I didn't show any real resistance and stayed in his bed, he must have assumed I agreed to stay.

He smiled, kissed me, and I felt his fingers fumble with my blouse's buttons. I just lay there and closed my eyes, refusing to think about what was going on. Slowly my blouse opened, and the room air hit my chest. Malcolm lightly massaged my bra-covered tits. My cunt was drenched. While my brain didn't give up yet, my body definitely enjoyed his gentle touch.

Then his fingers pushed my bra up, freeing my breasts. He gasped. I opened my eyes and saw his eyes ogling lovingly my massive tits. He licked his lips and murmured, "Moira, they are absolutely the most beautiful I've ever seen." His head bent down, and his lips sucked my left one tenderly. I held my breath as my pussy began tingling.

Malcolm's hand grabbed mine and pulled it down toward his groin. My fingers touched a warm, hard organ! He obviously freed his humongous dick from the confinement of his pants. It was long and exceptionally large. The skin felt smooth with noticeable veins running along the shaft. The head was wide and soft. I caressed it, feeling my juices dribble down my thigh. This guy aroused me to an unbelievable height, and I needed to cum. At that point my mind shut off, and the only organ which directed me was my hungry vagina.

I just lay there, with his raging rod pulsating in my hands, as Malcolm took his time undressing me. His touch was extremely gentle and fluttery. Eventually I was on my back, fully exposed to his eyes. Malcolm was in no hurry to explore my body with his eyes, fingers, and mouth.

My horniness went through the roof, and I desperately needed relief. I whispered, "Please, Malcolm, your foreplay lasts too long. Let me orgasm."

"Honey, I admire your terrific figure. It's one of a kind. It is so beautiful..."

"Thank you. You were successful in seducing me, and now I am very aroused. I wish to climax."

"Moira, watching your breathtaking body is a privilege. Shouldn't we leave the actual intercourse for next time, to make sure you won't regret it later?"

I mumbled, "No! I want you right now!!!"

He smiled devilishly, "I have to ensure your brain made peace with your wish to have sex with me. Tell me in details what do you want me to do with your gorgeous body?"

I screamed, "You are such a jerk; you arouse me and rather than do something about it, you force me to talk dirty..."

"Well, darling, as I said before; prove to me you REALLY want it."

"I WANT YOUR HUGE COCK TO FUCK MY PUSSY. I WANT YOU TO PLOW ME SAVAGELY. I WISH TO BE IN PARADISE WITH YOUR GIANT PENIS DEEP IN MY CUNT..."

He bent and whispered in my ear, "That's better, girl. Here, let me teach you about sexual bliss."

Next, I felt his huge pecker widening my pussy, advancing gingerly through my tight tunnel.

My orgasm started before his cock was fully inside yet. I shook wildly and couldn't stop myself. It felt like his tool reached my neck! And then he began ramming it at an increasing pace. I was immersed in a fog and felt my tits being roughed. My whole body danced to the tune of his high-octane, incessant drilling. I was on cloud nine, crying and screaming my heart out.

I had no idea how long I was out, but I was half awakened when he growled, "Girl, I am going to cum now. Get ready!" And then I felt hot lava flowing for a long moment deep in my cunt. By then I was either in my 100th orgasm, or status orgasm, whatever it is.