It started after highschool, well technically in highschool but nothing physical until after high school.
I grew up next to this neighbor, let’s call her Agnes. Agnes was the free-spirit, unmarried, do-whatever-I-want type. It seemed like when she wasn’t off hiking or skiing or surfboarding in some faraway place she would sit in her backyard, suntanning right under my bedroom window. I had the sneaking suspicion she was doing it on purpose, but I couldn’t tell through her polarized sunglasses (I was not the most emotionally intelligent kid.)
Suffice to say, I had a huge crush on her all through highschool. All of my fantasies revolved around her in some way, although I never thought they would actually happen. We “flirted” which was pretty much her talking to me, smiling and laughing, while I tried to not have a heart attack.
After I graduated highschool, one day while I was home alone, she knocked on the front door asking for help. Turns out her dishwasher had stopped working and since she heard I was going to college, she thought I might be able to fix it. (It should have occured to me right then and there what was happening but again, totally naive kid.)
Anyway, I went over to her house, looked at her dishwasher and sure enough, nothing was wrong. When I turned around, Agnes was standing in just her bra and panties. She told me she had been waiting for this for a long time. She knew I liked her and she had tried to signal me but nothing was getting through. So she decided to be more overt.
I was speechless. Like literally speechless. I felt the blood drain from my face and if my anatomy allowed it, I’m sure my jaw would be on the floor.
I didn’t say a word as she stepped forward and pressed me against the counter, her hands exploring my body. I didn’t say a word as she knelt down, keeping eye contact, and slowly pulled down my pants.
Let me just say, Best. Blowjob. Ever. It probably lasted 30 seconds (hey, I was young), but that was the best half minute of my life. Agnes, on her knees, in her underwear, sucking my cock. All my teenage fantasies came true in that one blowjob.
When she finished (or when I finished really) I started apologizing about as fast as I could get the words out, which was not very fast considering the state of things. Agnes just laughed and told me she expected this sort of thing and that she had other plans. She got up, took my hand, and led me to the upstairs bedroom.
I know why they call it cowgirl now. Agnes pushed me over the bed, put a condom on by dick, and rode me like there was no tomorrow. Seriously, after about the second time I had to literally beg her to stop. Thankfully she was running out of stamina by that time and she agreed to end it.
We swapped numbers and I did my very first slut-walk back to my house.
We texted a little later. Turns out we both had a crush on each other and we *definitely* enjoyed seeing the other without clothes on, so we decided to make it a regular thing.
At least once a week I went over to her house and found Agnes wearing a different lingerie. I have no idea where she got so many or where she kept them, but damn she looked good. We fucked on the bed, the couch, the floor, the kitchen table, even on the stairs one time (We were going up to the bedroom and I made the mistake of saying “ladies first”; watching her ass bounce like that as she took the stairs, I don’t think she made it half way before I took her panties off and pounded her right then and there.)
Needless to say, I learned a lot from her. Don’t forget the boobs, use lube, worship the pussy (but for God’s sake be gentle). We did everything, every hole, every position, every place we could think of. As I grew more confident, I just wanted to do more and more.
I remember the day we actually made it kinky. I was sitting in my room, doing college homework when I got a text from Agnes. She was holding up a pair of furry handcuffs with the caption “Want to try this next time?” I was instantly hard.
That weekend, when I was about to head over, I got another text. “Door’s open, I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”
I went over and sure enough the door was unlocked. I shut it behind me and went upstairs. When I opened the bedroom door, there was Agnes, fully nude, handcuffed to the headboard, with the biggest smile I had ever seen.
Let’s just say I think I lost my mind. I was a savage. I treated her body like a toy, like my personal living flesh light. I heard her make sounds I didn’t even know were possible. I must have pounded her for hours like that. Eventually we took a break to let me catch my breath, Agnes had already came like three times at that point. When I had regained my stamina I decided to turn her over and use her ass, pronebone.
If I didn’t break the bed, I must have came close. Agnes was mentally checked out by all the bouncing, but the feeling of warm cum oozing out her ass brought her right back into focus.
We started incorporating more toys after that. Blindfolds, gags, restraints. As I grew more confident and controlling, Agnes became more submissive and more willing to bend over and let me have my way with her. After a few months, I was treating her half like a queen to be worshipped and half like a cheap, disposable sex toy. It was a fun arrangement we both enjoyed.
I think my favorite experience was the time I had her bent over the kitchen table, her hands and ankles tied to the table-legs, blindfolded and gagged, while I pounded her from behind. I got so forceful, the table started moving. I held her by the hips while Agnes clung to the table for dear life. It was a fun experience, but not something we wanted to try again anytime soon.
When I graduated college, Agnes gave me a graduation gift, which was really a gift to her. A collar, specifically a slave-collar. It was a black leather thing with a small metal loop at the front. We came to an arrangement where whenever she was horny, or I wanted her and she was in town, all we had to do was text each other and I would drive to her house to find her naked except for the collar, on her knees with her legs spread, and she would be my slave for the evening. If I wanted to kick back on the couch, watch football, and use her naked body as a footrest, that was fine. If I wanted her blindfolded and gagged, tied to the wall with her legs spread, a dildo stuck in her mouth as I flogged her pussy and rammed my cock up her ass, that was fine too. I think we did both of those things actually, not at the same time of course.
After college I got a good job and I was actually able to afford my own place. It wasn’t large of course, but it was enough for me. Of course Agnes and I christened the place, with 50 feet of rope and a bottle of lube no less.
Everything was fine in my life, a steady paycheck, a nice place, and Agnes whenever the mood struck. But it turns out women talk, and Agnes was no exception. The first to show up at my front door was one of Agnes’s friends. She told me she had just divorced her ass-hole ex-husband and now she was looking for a little … comfort?
I stripped her out of her clothes, blindfolded her, tied her to the bed, and ate her out until the sun came up.
She was still fast asleep when my alarm went off and I had to go to work. I left her a little breakfast and a note saying she could stay as long as she wanted. I came home to a half eaten breakfast and a note with a very polite thank-you and a message saying she had her own place. I thought it would be a one-off, nothing more than a funny story for years later.
Turns out, Agnes had friends, and Agnes’s friends had friends. I’ve fucked divorcees, tired moms, bored housewives, you name it. I never knew how many frustrated women there were, all of them one hand around the throat and a “drop your panties” away from the best nights of their lives.
Some of them only came by once, some of them came a few times, and a few of them came more than a few times. I’m surprised my neighbors didn’t suspect me of running an illegal brothel in my house. Then again, I know some of my neighbors better than their husbands ever will.
Agnes and I have our favorites of course, those few women who swing by the most, but I’m always interested to meet a new comer, someone I get to learn from the beginning. Every now and then you get a special wildcard that does something for you like no other woman has done before.
Suffice to say, I’ve come a long way from that shy nerd, watching his neighbor sunbathe in the backyard, and life is good.
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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/rkejqg/of_course_i_like_older_women_i_tie_them_up_and
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