Leggy Milf Lauren's Oral Slave

Lauren smiled at herself in the mirror, the grin mischievous, lighting up her pretty face. The stunning, silky-haired brunette had just come from the gym – where Mike had been panting over her fine, athletic form as she worked the leg-press machine – then showered, shaved her sweet mound to a glistening sheen and pulled on a pair of sinfully short red satiny shorts that hugged her firm, fleshy thighs, and a loose white blouse atop her toned torso.

"This is gonna be so easy," she sighed to herself, brushing out her long hair, watching her arms flex in the mirror, courtesy of years of working out her 53-year-old body to a superbly toned degree bordering on muscular, particularly in those legs. "I like easy..."

Mike had not approached her at the gym; the shy and introverted 24-year-old tiny man would never approach a woman at a gym, or anywhere else. She approached him, confidently, striking up a conversation she controlled. She liked it that way. She towered over him, his diminutive 5' 1" 110-pound body dwarfed by height and width in her 5' 8", 135-pound fit shadow.

She'd asked him if he liked what he saw and her pussy tingled when he stammered, unable to answer, breaking a sweat although he hadn't worked out the entire time he'd been staring at her smooth quads rippling on the leg machine.

"I think you need to come to my place, Michael," she hissed, giving him the address and time. "And don't be late. You won't like being late."

She smiled as she spun away, feeling his stare on the backs of her sweeping, cut calves rising from her low gym socks. She went home and readied. Quarter to seven, the bell rang. He was to arrive at seven. She smiled and put down the brush, looking out her bedroom window at the tiny man on her stoop with flowers in his shaky hands, baggy slacks and a black t-shirt on his scrawny body.

Walking to the door, she jerked it open, a stern look on her very pretty face.

"You're early, Michael," she hissed.

"Uh...yes, yes I am, you said 7 but I figured..." he stammered, unable to look into her auburn eyes.

"You figured wrong," she said, motioning him inside to her spacious living room, with rug in the center of a large, L-shaped couch and a couple of easy chairs. "You'll pay for that."

Mike looked confused but entered, handing her the flowers as he did, nervously. She snatched them from his hand and tossed them aside. They fell in a pretty but inglorious heap, scattered in the hallway. She walked inside the living room, ahead of him, her shorts riding high up the backs of her flexing, tanned hamstrings.

She turned and sat on the couch, crossing her sexy legs, impossibly so for a woman of her years, a thick muscular flare on the top shin as it folded around into a fiercely honed calf. She let a long moment in silence hang in the air as Mike stood nervously, shifting foot to foot, unable to think of anything to say or what to do.

"I require oral sex often, Michael, are you willing to perform oral sex on me?" she asked bluntly, leaning back, hands on the couch behind her, luxuriously relaxed, as if she'd just asked him about the weather and not outlined her sexual needs. "Well, are you?"

He stammered, face beet red, looking side to side.

"Uh, well, I don't know, I don't think..I mean, Lauren, really, I don't...I ..."

She let him twist in the wind for another long moment and then slyly smiled.

"Shy, you're so shy," she said. "You need softening up, I guess, to comply with my wishes."

She spread her meaty thighs, the tanned flesh firm and waiting. Snapping her finger, she pointed to the spot between them on the floor.

"Kneel, if you would, Michael," she growled. "Hurry up, I'm an impatient woman."

Mike looked confused, scared and uncertain but blindly obeyed, his mind in a fog as he knelt on bony knees precisely where she'd pointed. She smiled – and lifted one full leg up, plunking that calf on his shoulder, following slowly with the other. His eyes were wide open and full of terror, as he gulped and felt the thick swell of hard calves rotating under that soft, tanned flesh. She was rotating her toes, balling the calves on his shoulders, making him aware of their presence.

"Come to me, Michael," she hissed, pushing her calves together on the sides of his neck and using them to inch him closer to him.

"Lauren, no, I don't think...I hardly know you...you can't...no, please..." he said with genuine discomfort despite his face being inexorably inched closer and closer to a spot every man in Lauren's life would dearly pay to be. "I really..."

Lauren giggled. She loved it when young ones were shy, introverted...and unwilling. She curled a hand under his chin and tilted his head up, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"You really? You really what, Michael? You really don't think we should?"

He shook his head rapidly side to side, his eyes bugged out fully.

"Mmmm," she cooed, suddenly pulling his face into her musky crotch and slam-wrapping her thighs of steel around his ears, locking her feet and pumping her legs out straight. "I was hoping you felt that way!"

Mike screamed. He'd never felt pain like this before, his face was mashed tight to her crotch – the first crotch he'd ever been this close to – and Lauren's thighs just erupted in skull-cracking power as they bulked up around his trapped ears. His skinny arms came up and his hands curled around the quads, pulling vainly at them, feeling the compression they were causing make it feel like his head would be mashed flat in her scissored embrace. He shut his eyes against the pain and water ran from the clenched corners of them as the pain mounted.

Laura growled, watching Mike's face go from beet red to deep purple, and she throbbed her adductors on him mercilessly, pumping them, making them ripple to steel-cable like hardness as they crushed his face and pinched the blood flow to his brain to a near stop. Mike's world went fuzzy and dim, a strange tingling in his failing fingers and his toes, a sure sign of impending unconsciousness. She looked down her nose at him, a dominant sneer on her pretty face and squeezed harder, watching and feeling her man-eating thighs swell and bubble around him, the quads stony hard against his face.

She twisted her locked legs left, then right, giggling to herself as she watched Mike struggle to go along for the jerky ride, his grunts high pitched and girly, his eyes still shut against the impossible pain. She brought him center again and tapped his eyelids.

"Open them, Michael," she growled. "I want to see you see me."

He blinked open, tears welled in them, fear permeating them. He tried to speak; his mouth was lost in the folds of her shorts, mashed hard on her pubic bone, nose bent to almost breaking. She smiled dominantly down at him.

"Are you ready to comply with my wishes?" she asked rhetorically, knowing his answer mattered not a whit. "Well, answer me!"

He tried to but only muffled pain sounds came out. She sighed.

"Very well," she said. "Perhaps a few moments of my scissor quiver will change your mind!"

With that, she locked up tighter than ever and began a slowly building, pulsating squeeze of such brutal intensity every inch of her thighs erupted in a quivering, quaking, shaking and vibrating motion against his trapped face. Her scissoring thighs undulated, her calves caught up in the quiver motion, and now every inch of her firm, supple legs erupted in a never-ending, head-jarring shaking scissor squeeze that made Mike go limp, hanging from her crushing thighs like a rag doll. She pulled on the back of his head, using his face, grinding her quim against his nose and mouth through her shorts, for a full, agonizingly long minute of unrelenting scissor quivering.

He was nearly out when she finally stopped and released him, the beaten skinny man slumping to the floor in a crying mound. She stood up, slowly peeling off her top and shorts, standing in tiny bra and skimpy white thong panty. He looked up, whimpering, and struggled to his knees. Lauren reached down and grabbed his t-shirt, hauling him to his feet and in the process, tearing it off his body with one strong hand. He stood now, shaking in fear, his face red and his sunken chest and tiny belly pasty white by comparison. Laughing, she grabbed both of his erect nipples and twisted in opposite directions, delighting in his girlish screams of pain and humiliation.

"Titty twister!" she laughed, twisting the other way and finally letting him go.

He cried uncontrollably now and backed away, or tried to. Lauren angrily reached for him, grabbing his hair, pulling him toward her and ramming a rock-hard thigh into his groin, smashing his balls and making him fall to his knees, his hanging head easy prey for her hungry thighs. She stood over it, clamping down and squeezing until he screamed as she calmly reached behind her to unhook her bra and toss it aside. She let him go to stand up, his eyes blinking at the sight of her perfectly formed breasts pointing at him, hardly any evidence of sagging despite her years.

"You like?" she teased, spinning around. "You like my old-lady titties? Or would you prefer this?"

She slithered out of her thong and watched him look down into the freshly shaven vee of her pussy and thighs, the tiny slit moist and glistening. She snapped her fingers, his gaze snapping up to her eyes.

"Please...," he begged. "Please...please don't..."

She smiled at his shy nervousness – and slapped him across the face one way, backhanding him the other. He whimpered anew.

"On your back, bitch," she growled throatily, pointing to the floor.

He blindly obeyed, crying, as she stood over his face now, facing his head, hands on hips.

"If you'd only done as you were told," she sighed, slowly descending on his face, her moist quim opening meatily as it neared Mike's face. "Nah, it wouldn't have mattered, but I just like making you think it would!"

She squatted slowly, her thighs muscled and tense, knees apart, and slowly settled her juicy pussy right on Mike's stunned face, his eyes wide open in humiliated terror. She sat firmly now, her inner thighs framing that frightened face, her ever-wetting cunt folding moistly over his lips and nose, embracing them in its wet, milking grip.

She groaned deeply, eyes half lidded, head tilted back, as she began her routine, rhythmic gyrating on a victim's face, swiveling her lush hips slowly side to side, back and forth, settling on a circular motion now, her pussy open and commanding as it rode wetly over Mike's moaning mouth.

He spoke, or tried to, mumbling his pussy-muffled entreaties that were squeaking up to deaf ears as Lauren rode with merciless intent now, grinding on his face harder and harder, dragging her gushing quim all over it, making his features shine with their clammy girly offerings.

She hissed now and started snapping, dragging her clit back to the tip of his chin and then slamming forward, pumping his face over and over, using and abuse with unrelenting fury, building into a crushing cum as she worked it, worked her cunt, worked his face. She was in the zone now, as she always did when abusing a victim, unable to stop even if she wanted to, building herself into a place from which there was no escape for her or the victim being face sat with ruthless abandon.

She leaned forward now, hunched over, hands at first on her trembling thighs and then her fingers entwining Mike's straggly, sweaty hair, pulling it, using it for her point of balance, holding it tightly and now rapidly snapping her quim back and forth on his face that he knew she would erase all his features. He screamed, screamed long and hard and earnestly, and even his screams were surpassed by the animal, guttural, grunting of Lauren's exquisitely powerful orgasm.

"Ungh...ungh...ungh..." she growled, thrusting herself over his face, his head painfully snapping against the floor with each savage suffocating snap.

She finally came, long and hard, going stock still, sitting up straight and pasting his face in her sweaty thighs, drowning him in her orgasmic gel that sluiced from her meaty pussy and coated him chin to hairline. She punched her thighs together and the seal was complete, his face obliterated, his oxygen intake nil, and now as she came for a full minute, her whole body quivering in the effort and her hands pulling madly at her nipples, he thrashed beneath her, lungs burning, anxious for air and finding none. He pulled lamely at her squatting thighs and couldn't budge them in inch, his fingers finding steel.

She slowed now, easing down, her eyes coming open and her breaths in sweet, labored gasps. Her hands fell away from her tender nipples and she looked down as she spread her thighs, the meat yawning apart, a bridge of cum between them and the barely alive face moaning between them.

"That was good, Michael," she sighed, hands on her squatting thighs, patting them as if in admiration of a job well done. "Now..."

She stood up slowly, turning, showing him her ass, milky white in comparison to the rest of her lusciously tanned body. He cried looking up her hard calves, her taut hamstrings and into the slightly muscled concavity of her high, hard ass. He wiped his face with tired hands, amazed at the amount of her orgasm cream there, sputtering as he spoke weakly.

"Lauren...please..no more...," he whimpered uncontrollably, trying to pull himself from the horizontal position he was in, his head and neck throbbing in pain from the skull-wrenching scissors she'd put him through. "I can't...this...this isn't right...it's..."

"It's what?" she giggled, squatting, those taut hammies drawing closer, the butt flesh parting a bit, the tight, dark pucker within revealing itself. "It's so wrong?"

"Yes, wrong!" he cried out, coming up on his elbows with a huge effort, his face, nose and mouth inches now from the ass before him.

"Well, if lovin' this is wrong," she hissed, bumping down a notch, cracking his face and driving him to his back as she settled her meaty buns on his crying face, "then I don't wanna be right!"

She laughed a dark, dominant, haughty laugh as she settled firmly on his face, his nose in the crack, his mouth at her pussy again, this time she facing his feet. She wiggled and twisted and now fluidly slithered back a bit, his mouth right at the tight entrance of her hungry asshole. He felt it open and pulsate and pucker at his closed mouth, the muscles of it tickling his pursed lips. His eyes gazed up the round sweetness of her smooth-orbed ass, his nose pinched in the crack.

"It's dessert time, Michael!" she said in a sweet, little-girl, sing-song voice before dropping it a full octave and adding darkly, "Now EAT MY ASSHOLE!"

"NOOOOO!" he screamed and then his screams were cut off as she face sat him, full weight, taking his breath away.

She growled that throaty, pre-orgasmic growl and began her circular motion again, her hands now on her hips, grinding him, using him, rubbing on him for her pleasure and hers alone. She used her hands to pull apart her meaty butt flesh and wiggled her rectal ring on his mouth.

"I said LICK IT!" she growled back over her slim shoulder, down at his ass-trapped face as it came free of her suffocating grip for a second and sucked in much-needed air.

He gulped and finally obeyed, convinced to do otherwise would be lethal folly and she'd just sit on his face until he was dead beneath her. He shut his eyes, feeling the lashes brush the soft, warm flesh of her supple ass, opened his mouth and let his tongue drill forward into the welcoming grip of Lauren's hungry asshole.

"Yessssssssssssss," she hissed. "That's more like it...now deeper..DEEPER!!"

He obeyed again, fully extending his long tongue deeper into the milking confines of her rapacious butt ring, feeling the muscular walls of her anus fold around it, gripping it, pulling it in deeper still. His mouth was wide open, trapped by her weight, and his teeth were flush up against the soft flesh of her ass as his tongue remained trapped in the tight sphincter that gripped it.

"Ahh...ahhhh..." he moaned, trying to breathe, trying to swallow, trying to please this crazed oral mistress as now he stabbed blindly inside her milking butt chute with his tender tongue.

"That's it, that's it, tongue fuck me, boy, tongue fuck my asshole!" she screamed, pulling her ass flesh as far apart at possible to devour more fully his face. "Thrust it in and out, yeah, that's it!!"

She was a madwoman atop his face, letting the meaty ass halves slap shut on him and now using both her hands to wantonly frig her tireless clit, holding the moist lips apart with one hand, running the other fingers over the engorged nub of pure sexual energy, feeling the wetness growing there, getting off on the smell of herself, the sight of the man trapped beneath her, the sounds of not only his groans of shamed agony but the moist, sucking noise his rapidly thrusting tongue was making inside her hungry asshole.

"Oh yeah, baby, keep tongue fucking my tight ass!" she screamed, her hand a blur now as she worked her tireless clit, squirting now as she sometimes did at the height of sexually frenzy, a thick ribbon of sweet woman cum blasting out of her cunt, past her dancing digits and soaking Mike's scrawny chest in a thick, steaming blanket of her sex sauce. "FUCK YEAHHHHH!!"

She snapped out an orgasm so hard and fast, her ass clenching and punching down in such a fierce, sudden grip of face-punishing fury, Mike screamed in agony, eyes shooting open wide, mouth trapped and feeling like his tongue would be pulled right out of his face and sucked deep inside the guillotine grip of Lauren's brutally pinching asshole.

She sat back now, her ass completely taking his face prisoner, her ass milking his tongue deeper, and leaned back on her hands, off her pussy which now gushed a steady stream of her cum in a thick arch up and over Mike's twitching torso, staining his pants from waist to his knees, soaking the fabric before it stopped.

She slowly came down from her insanely punishing facesitting orgasmic fury, leaning forward on her thighs, hands framing the quivering quads, elbows bowed out as her chest heaved back and forth sucking in air she'd deprived herself in holding her breath when she came. She finally pulled herself to shaky feet over his face and looked down at the skinny man beneath her, his body trembling with pain, fear and humiliation, tears in his eyes and trickling down his cum-thick cheeks.

"No...no more..." he moaned, barely able to speak, his mouth and lips and tongue sore and swollen from the constant oral abuse she'd put him through.

She said nothing. Walking to the couch, she sat, crossing her legs, her hands on the back of the couch, as they'd been earlier. She motioned with a look to the side where his tattered t-shirt lay beside her.

"Get it and go," she said calmly, evenly, no evidence at all on her face or in her voice that she'd nearly killed the man before her with her punishing thighs and suffocating ass and commanding cunt. "Move."

Every inch of Mike's pathetic body ached as he forced it to move, drawing himself to his knees, feeling the cooling gel of her cum on his flesh. Crying, he stumbled toward the couch and reached for his shirt with a trembling hand, eyes closed as he fumbled for it. Lauren's look was stony, cold. And then like lightning, her legs opened and closed around his face as she used one hand to pull him into her trap.

The thighs exploded in muscular power as they embraced his head in a crackling scissor grip, the quads rock hard. She tilted his face up and out of her moist, tender pussy as she folded one thick calf up and laced it over the back of his neck, hooking that foot behind the opposite leg. He winced in pain as she tensed down on the hold, his neck aching under the hard push of her powerful calf.