Author: mrs_xo45

45 [F] cougar fucked in parking garage by dream boy toy 21 [M], thwarts covid cock block

If I were to head into my cougar lab and design the perfect boy toy (think Dr. Frank N. Furter and Rocky Horror), I’d have spun John right out of a centrifuge. 6’1, with brown curly locks cascading into sparkly brown eyes. Killer smile, with corresponding dimples. Athletic body adorned by washboard abs. It’s gross, I can’t even.

John and I met online (through tinder) weeks after the pandemic landed in Ohio, and shortly before his college returned him home out of state. Thus began a torturous four months long tease, with me hoping (nay, praying) college would return him to Cleveland.

So when he asked me, “are you free today?” all I could think about was resolving this antici…
…pation. We agreed to meet at the Botanical Gardens and walk around, seemingly innocent enough. Maybe people would think I was his favorite Aunt, or maybe even his Mom, if my body language didn’t betray my ill intentions. I think the truth is, most people don’t “think” anything about perfect strangers they see, and certainly don’t assume the worst about them. Read more »

Married cop [M] drop his load in my [F] office

I opened my phone to a text message from Brad last night. “I found a guy on the internet who offered to milk me and I’m halfway tempted to take him up on it.”

Brad (name changed) is a married cop, who has been messaging me on and off for years. Teasing me with the idea of meeting for coffee/bending me other the hood of his patrol car, and yet never actually pulling the figurative trigger.

While I’d written him off long ago as the quintessential tease, I still found myself intrigued by his dark, brooding nature and raw sexual energy, not to mention his beer can sized cock I saw in a photo some years back. He’s the kind of guy who revels in saying dirty, horrible things to me and then disappearing, which I’d grown to respect, knowing he was choosing to stay faithful. Normally I steer clear of married men, but I couldn’t resist playing his game.

“You’re switching teams on me, before I’ve even had the chance to fuck you?” I ask the former marine, as if the cop fantasy wasn’t enough.

“Let me come over,” he says. Read more »

Coffee: hot, strong and coming down my throat [FM]

I always tease men that I like my coffee like I like my dates; hot, strong and coming down my throat. In this case, the metaphor played out literally.

I met Aaron in a coffee house near campus on a cold January day, one year ago. He was a grad student studying music at one of the local universities. Tall, handsome, bearded, fit, 26. He had never been out with an older woman before. (I was 44 at the time.)

He shows up with a charming smile and sparkling blue eyes, and what I think are sexy tight white jeans. He smells delicious, when I lean in for a hug and press up against him.

We grab our drinks and head upstairs in this old house, repurposed as a coffee shop, and sit near the bay window on the second floor, while snowflakes flit around outside.

I treat my dates like interviews, because after all, they are applying for a job; a blow job, perhaps, but perhaps more. While we talk and he answers my barrage of questions about his life and future aspirations, I find myself melting into his voice and expressions, watching his lips move and imagining what it would be like to kiss him. Smile. Nod. “Yes, absolutely,” I say, paying little attention to his words at this point, and wondering if my dirty thoughts are blaring across my forehead like an electronic billboard in Times Square. Read more »