Erotic stories from home: I'm not angry when someone calls me "motherfucker" because I actually did.
Erotic stories from home, read erotic stories, erotic experiences, swinging erotic stories, erotic stories, erotic clips.
Erotic stories from home: I'm not angry when someone calls me "motherfucker" because I actually did.
Her name is "P' Waen," and she's a regular customer at the coffee shop where I work. She often sits here in the afternoons and evenings on weekends. She looks older, but she's still beautiful, youthful, and vibrant. Her favorite is an unsweetened iced Americano. Often, when she comes, I'll bring it to her without saying a word or asking. P' Waen will accept it with a smile that, over time, makes me feel a little flustered and my heart melts. It's a feeling I never thought I'd have with a woman so much older than me—a lustful thought I'd have when I'm with her.
That initial greeting led to us exchanging contact information, since she might just pass by and pick it up, not necessarily sitting there. It was convenient to have it ready beforehand. However, as time went on, we started talking about unrelated things more and more, without me intruding on her personal life at all. Eventually, I accepted P' Waen's invitation to have dinner with me. She said she was alone that day, lonely, and wanted someone to talk to.
But somehow… before I knew it, I was swayed by everything she said, and now I'm with her at this luxurious condo. We slowly undressed each other. Her figure was still beautiful. On Waen's stomach was a C-section scar, indicating she had already given birth. It was a long incision just below her navel. Below that was her large, full pubic mound, and above that were her large, alluring breasts. We embraced, locked in a passionate kiss. It was an indescribable feeling.
It was a good kiss, and my kisses gradually moved lower until Waen began to pull down my pants. She looked up and asked if I was really going to do this, if I didn't mind. I told her that at this point, there was no reason to be disgusted anymore. She immediately yanked my pants down and grabbed my penis, masturbating me until I was incredibly aroused and my penis was fully erect. Everything intensified as Waen closed her eyes and sucked my penis harder and harder. I, standing still, felt like I was forcing myself.
I slowly moved my hips, thrusting against Waen's mouth, which she seemed to enjoy. The more I moved, the harder she sucked my penis, until I was trembling. I helped Waen lie down on the bed. Sister Waen reached down and parted her beautiful labia for me to see. "Wow, so pink!"
"Is this really the pussy of someone who's been used and had children?"
I smiled, drooling with lust. I bent down and licked Sister Waen's pussy until she writhed with pleasure, moaning and calling my name incessantly. It only intensified my arousal. Hearing her moans and feeling her body writhe like that made me unable to resist. I moved higher and slowly began to insert my penis into Sister Waen's pussy.
She trembled all over, her pussy clenching tightly around my penis, I could feel the tightness. She smiled and asked if I liked it. "I like it," she said. "Your dick is too big for a kid. I'm so turned on." She said this as I slowly pushed my penis inside her, then began to thrust into her repeatedly and rapidly, the sounds of our bodies colliding echoing loudly in the room.
I groaned with pleasure. I lifted Waen's legs onto my shoulders and pounded my dick into her with all my might.
My body trembled, my dick tensed inside her pussy.
I couldn't take it anymore… I told Waen I was about to cum. Waen didn't say anything, just moaned. She reached out and grabbed my arm, saying, "Cum, cum inside my pussy. I like it. I want this." She looked at me and slowly smiled, her seductive demeanor making me lose control and pounding into her with full force until Waen's body tensed and trembled.
Before I ejaculated inside Waen… she finished inside my dick. This was a very happy night for me, even without any romantic relationship. Until I saw a message on my phone screen, which was lying face up.
"Mom… what time are you coming home?"
It would be normal if the name of the person who sent the message wasn't familiar—I knew him. My best friend.
Did I… just fuck my friend's mom?
This way, I guess I can't get angry at anyone anymore when they call me "motherfucker," because I actually did it!