Tasting young blood: My [F45] first experience with a younger man [M 29] [MF]

A little glance at my profile will tell you three things about me: One, I’m a married woman who is quite a family woman with a doting husband, a loving daughter. Two, I’m a workaholic, career oriented woman who is just ambitious as any other person in the room. Three, I’m a total and complete whore. I use my body to be successful, and if people call me a slut and dumb, I don’t mind it, I wear it as a badge. But, of course, all of this is done in complete secrecy. Between closed doors and shamelessly loud moans.

Most of the men who has got me in closed chambers and have seen me naked are men around my age or older than me. Moreover, I never had a fixation for young men in general. It felt natural for me to spread my legs for men who are in the same age bracket as I’m. But that changed when I met a smart, young, ambitious man who was both politically adept and emotionally mature. He wasn’t the usual arrogant, entitled men I have met a gazillion times. He had a sense of old world charm to him. But it wasn’t just his ability to charm a woman- who is more than a decade older than him- that I was smitten by, but by his looks. He was tall, fair, and quite a good looking fellow. He had strong arms and a chiselled face, and clearly a ripped body. Now, I’m not a huge fan of men with chiselled bodies, but when the man ticks all the other options, this one becomes a bonus.

I never lusted him from the get-go. He had come to me to assist him in his work, and over the few weeks and months, I noticed few more things about him: he is rich, he is well-connected politically and otherwise and he is lustful. True, he never unabashedly gawked at me, but as we got closer, we would find ways to make an innuendo here and there and compliment my looks. But none was trashy or garish. In fact, they were all surprisingly in good taste and humour.

But as things would have it, I knew that I wanted him as my ally, or maybe it was my insidious motive to have him have me help another client who could benefit from his political connection. Two birds with one stone, or in this case, two cases with one pussy. And so, I decided to pander to his dirty mind.

A few months later, I began to openly laugh and giggle at his innuendoes. Soon, that became a routine thing, and I got a sneak peek of how filthy his mind was. He was in a relationship with a sexy young woman, but he wasn’t exactly the most loyal boyfriend and neither was he a playboy. He liked to flirt, and he wouldn’t be prude enough to keep his veiny cock in his pants should a potential escapade comes his way.

One day, finally, the barriers went down and we made out. It was at his place. He was big, I could see, from the imprint it made on his tracks. And even though we both were in a position to take it further, I stopped midway. He had his hands on my boobs and he was still squeezing them even when I turned away from him. I wanted him to know that I wouldn’t jump into it in a second.

The next time we did something like that was weeks later, and then some more, and like I graduated him from a client to a man who knew about my mole on my lower back. But all the while, it was just making out. He hadn’t seen me completely naked, and I hadn’t had his cum yet.

And then one day, I went out of my office early only to get into his car and during that ride we were both unusually quiet. My husband wasn’t home and his girlfriend or his parents weren’t in town. He had already sent his servants home early. We knew what would happen the moment we got at his place. I was prepared for his raw passion. In fact, I was looking forward to it. But what I didn’t know is how much of an animal he is. Beneath all the charm, he was quite raw and wild. In a single move, my kurti and my pajamas came down and he lifted me up to suck at my nipples. I was already gasping for breath when he pulled my bra down and buried his face between my tits while his hands expertly supporting my weight, found the wet water hole between my legs. We kissed passionately and he threw me around me like a rag doll. I was a mere putty in his hands.

He noticed how wet I was, and wasted no time in lapping up my juices, and soon enough, I was crouching on the living floor beside our cloths and papers, my nostril filled with his musk, my lips sucking on his shaft and my throat pulsing with his girth. And I sucked him until he coated my throated with his cum. He came gallons, so much that I was spilling his cum from my lips. Judging by the amount he came, I thought he was spent. But the man surprised me by going for another round. And another. All the while I came and creamed and shuddered with wave of orgasm after wave. He spread my legs and ploughed me on the couch, I was bent over his dining table and fucked hard and he lifted me held me against the wall, while holding onto his body, as the painting that hung nearby rattled. And for the next few hours we were both screaming, moaning and cumming with the same intensity as we would be arguing and stating facts in a heated board room discussion.

A few hours later, we were both seated at the dining table drinking coffee, and talking about our lives, partially naked, letting shame and guilt to the air, as we were still drenched in our juices and sweat. He confessed how he amazed he was by my pure carnal prowess and my lack of inhibition, and how he loved the way I embraced my slut-side so effortlessly. I smiled while still having a lament in my heart of being a cheater. However, from that day, I got a friend, an ally and a man who changed my perception of how young men would be like.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/mb9xry/tasting_young_blood_my_f45_first_experience_with