Category: gonewildstories

I met Tuesday at my second real job out of college. She was a blonde, about 5’1” with a great ass and perky tits. Oh and by the way, she was about 15 years older than me! She looked much more like 28 than 38. We only worked together for a few months, but we flirted quite a bit. She was married at the time, so that’s all it was, just flirting.

Fast forward 3 years. We had both moved on to new jobs and had not really kept in touch. Then we bumped into each other at a coffee shop. We caught up for a few minutes waiting in line. Just basic catch up stuff nothing too deep. I had to run but mentioned that we get together and get coffee together soon. A few days later I text her and say that we should get together. She says she free the next day, so we agree to meet in the early afternoon. Read more »

So, days ago I found myself watching “The Life & Death of Sam Cooke: Lady You Shot Me.” And, in this documentary was Mr. Cooke’s receptionist who is now every bit of 70 years old. I don’t know why, but every time the camera panned back over to her, I said shit aloud like: “Damn, I want to stick my dick in her mouth!” or “I bet she has some ole good wet pussy!”. 

What in the hell is wrong with me? Is this some kind of senior citizen fetish I’m tied up to?

I’ve expressed my yearning to other women before: that I’ll fuck at a pussy that’s barely legal all the way up to great-grandma status (only if she’s sexy, though). Of course, I was bombarded with, “You’re disgusting, Maurice!”

“I know,” I’d reply, “what do you want a nigga to do: lie?”

Shit, when I come around, lock up your daughters, mothers, aunties–the village because I’m always sniffing around a tail. And, fucking mature women is like sipping on fine wine, remember? Read more »

Remember when you came to my house with your little .380 pistol? That was the first time a woman visited me with such authority. I had to foil your little plot, though. You know I had to pull the weapon from your back jeans pocket and get to business. Not even a pistol-yielding, sexy-ass chick as yourself could intimidate me in my shit. When you get to my house, there’s nothing but ass licking, dick devouring and pussy-eating antics over the horizon. I lead you to my bedroom and snatched your clothes off to gather up glances of your naked frame. Your body was delightful. You told me you hadn’t had any type of sexual contact in over six months. I already craved that luscious ass, but you mentioning your lack of sustenance marked my cue to just get it on. I pushed you onto my bed and instantly shoved my face in between your legs. I licked at your clit until your pussy lathered up and produced an abundance of fluid. I ransacked your asscheeks and turned up on that asshole. You pulled my eager face into your hind side’s bosom and kept me pinned there. My dick was a hardened mess in the middle of that chaos and disorganization. Fuck it, I had to mix up the uncertainty. I pulled my dick from my shorts and presented your slit with its erection. I worked my manhood into your wetness and began stroking like I was that Nigga, Clarence Carter. I held your legs up to your ears and dug into your hinny with pizzazz. I hit your pussy with such an authoritative drilling that your pussy spewed its ejaculation all over my bed. The more I stabbed at that wet box, the more it squirted and enveloped my abdomen with its precipitation. I marveled at what I had done, but I wasn’t done with you. I reintroduced your pussy and ass to my mouth and smothered your cavity. You kept on squirting and yelling out such things that weren’t meant for strangers’ ears to hear. I wasn’t going to let you hog all the sex, so I climbed atop you once more and pounded you  until we both came.

It was a bit unsettling when I walked through your door the first time. Keeping it real, you were a bit rough around the edges. (Attitude seemed to fill the air along with a bit of uneasiness.) You opened your legs up, though, and I squeezed my way in between those meaty things. The first few tongue-scraping passes over your genitalia were to see what kind of response I’d get from you. The jury was still out. Besides, your phone attained your undivided attention. Whatever conversation you were apart of sure had you giggling your ass off because you were texting away at your little handheld keyboard. I grew frustrated as seconds grew to minutes, and I felt you weren’t all in. But I remained on my mission and eased on down the yellow brick road. 

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HALLELUJAH…

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