Cougar At Home Part 2

By | December 9, 2010

Continued from here.

The doorbell chimed.

Opening the door revealed a man, about five years her junior, dressed in a smart suit. His black hair was stylishly trimmed, his eyes dark blue, his hands large and powerful. He confirmed her name and she invited him in. She closed the door and turned to face him, about to issue his instructions when he grabbed her and pressed his lips to hers.

The smell of his aftershave filled her nostrils, his tongue filled her mouth. She knew what came next and wanted it so badly …

His hands came to rest on her ass kneading her buttocks through her skirt. She pressed herself against him, feeling the bulge that already inhabited his groin. He ground against her, the hardness in his trousers pressing against her stomach, making her even more acutely aware of the tingling, moist lips between her legs.

They broke apart, both a little breathless. She took his hand and led him into the lounge. He looked around for a moment then placed his hand on the bare flesh of her upper chest . A sharp shove sent her falling back onto her soft, luxurious leather sofa. One of her heels flew off and bounced off the coffee table before coming to rest on the carpet. She gasped and smiled, eyes wide with excitement, an excitement increased by the realisation he had stopped to look between her legs.

Her skirt had ridden up and exposed the dark blue silk of her panties. They were moist, no they were wet already. The anticipation of her short wait for him and his forceful, passionate, animal advances had been exactly what she craved for.

He dropped to his knees. She felt him tugging at her panties and before she had chance to lift her ass to aid their passage down her legs he had ripped them down. She heard them tear, knowing they would be little more than a useless rag now, not caring. In fact she enjoyed the fact that he had destroyed her very expensive underwear  and was now about to take her in the same single-minded, unforgiving way.

She watched him lower his head between her legs, a rush of excitement rolled over her making her shudder. The first touch of his tongue on her pussy made her yelp and shake again. He worked fervently but slowly on her lips, her clit, her wet, warm hole until his face was covered in pussy juice.

She could not help but reach down and grab his head, pressing him into her, urging him to lick and suck and bite at her pussy with words that even her best friends would be shocked to hear her speak. He obliged with an enthusiasm which went well beyond his enlisted status, this boy loved his job.

Another surge of deliciously guilty, delightfully decadent, thoroughly naughty pleasure made her heart skip. The man between her legs, now alternating between deep probing thrusts into her pussy and teasing flicks across her anus was much younger than her. Was it five years or was it fifteen? She told herself it was twenty, imagining randy little 18 year old feasting on her cunt.

That was too much, she came. His face was awash with her and still she held him there, his powerful, lapping tongue collecting her issue with an unrelenting gusto.

When she released him he leant on the coffee table, panting.

“No need to ask if you enjoyed that.” He smiled, knowing he was good and knowing too his workmanship was appreciated. She remained recumbent, smiling and giggled gently. Her hand was between her legs teasing her pulsating clitoris.

She let him watch for a moment then said, “You can fuck me now. Hard.”

“How hard?” He asked, a little uncertain. After all she hadn’t seen the size of him yet.

“Oh, until I tell you it’s too much.”

He stood and removed his trousers. The removal of his underwear allowed the long thick rod of his cock to spring out. She took in the dimensions of this man who was so very over-qualified for the job he was about to carry out.

He rubbed the head of his cock on her pussy lips, in part to excite her a little more, but mainly to lubricate his large shining head for entry into her. He pressed the tip against her swollen labia and adjusted his angle. The sofa offered her pussy too him so his cock was forced upwards, pressing against her g-spot. She moaned deeply as the bulbous head rubbed hard against the front wall of her vagina. He felt her muscles clench him.

He was cautious, his size was more than some women could take … but not her.  As his final few millimetres disappeared into her pussy he looked at the expression of pure carnal lust on her face and could see that she wanted every bit of him hard and fast.

He pumped into her without his usual professional restraint. She didn’t want sophisticated, intelligent lover like some of his other clients, she wanted to be fucked, not to have him make love to her. The thought of it tested his skills. This wanton woman below him, now pinching her own nipples through the silk of her blouse was turning him on like a client never should. Her pussy was dripping fluids down the front of the sofa, he was sure the carpet would soon be soaked with her cum.

She stared at him, it was a challenge to spur him on into a final effort. His balls slapped hard against her buttocks, cock bouncing off her cervix. She kicked off her remaining high heel and pulled her knees to her chin, raising her pussy higher.

With three more strokes his climax hit him in the small of the back with the force of an express train. He released a growl, then another which mingled with her orgasmic yelps.

Then they were both still, he collapsed across her and she enjoying the weight of his muscular torso on her.

“You never said it was too much …” he said.

“It’s never too much.” She said with a smile.