A Funeral, a Coffee, and a Connection

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I stood by the graveside, my heart heavy with grief as I bid farewell to an old friend. It had been years since I last saw Jennifer, my high school buddy, but her sudden passing had hit me hard. I had a soft spot for nostalgia, couldn’t help but reminisce about the good old days. I was a big girl, always had been, with a full figure that some might call voluptuous. My blonde hair, now elegantly styled, framed my pretty face, and my green eyes held a hint of sadness as I watched the mourners gather.

Among the sea of black suits and somber expressions, a tall, broad-shouldered man caught my attention. He stood out not only because of his striking appearance but also due to his unusual profession. His name was Byron, the undertaker responsible for Jennifer’s funeral arrangements. He had a certain air of sophistication, with his dark hair neatly combed and a well-trimmed beard that accentuated his strong jawline. I found myself drawn to his deep, compassionate eyes, which seemed to hold a world of secrets.

As the ceremony concluded, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned to find Byron standing behind me, his tall frame towering over my 5’6″ stature. His warm smile instantly put me at ease, softening the harsh reality of the funeral.

“Ms. Carol, I presume?” His voice was like velvet, smooth and soothing. “I’m Byron, the undertaker. I wanted to offer my condolences and also thank you for your kind words about our services.”

I managed a small smile, appreciating his gesture. “Oh, Byron, it’s lovely to meet you. And please, call me Carol. I’m glad Jennifer’s send-off was so… peaceful.”

We exchanged pleasantries, and I couldn’t help but notice his intense gaze, as if he were studying every curve of my body. I was no stranger to attention, being a BBW with a confidence to match my size. My ample breasts strained against the fabric of my black dress, and I could see Byron’s eyes lingering there. It was a look I was familiar with, but there was something different about his admiration.

“Carol, I must say, you’re a vision. It’s not often I’m so captivated by someone at a funeral. May I be so bold as to ask if you’d consider joining me for a cup of coffee? I’d love to get to know you better.” Byron’s words were laced with a hint of nervousness, and I found his sincerity endearing.

I was taken aback by his forwardness, but his charm was undeniable. Despite my initial hesitation about dating someone in his profession, there was something about Byron that intrigued me. Perhaps it was his ability to find beauty in the midst of sorrow or the way his eyes lit up when he spoke.

“I’d love to, Byron. It’s not every day I get asked out by a handsome undertaker.” I flashed him a playful smile, my heart fluttering with anticipation.

We made our way to a nearby café, finding a cozy corner where we could talk without interruption. Byron’s choice of profession was a unique one, and I was curious to know more. As we sipped our coffee, he opened up about his work, his passion evident in every word.

“You might find it morbid, Carol, but I see beauty in the rituals of death. Preparing a body for its final journey, ensuring it’s presented with dignity—it’s an honor.” His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “And when I see the comfort it brings to the grieving families, it makes it all worthwhile.”

I listened intently, captivated by his passion. His hands gestured animatedly as he spoke, and I couldn’t help but notice their strength and grace. I imagined those hands caressing my body, and a shiver ran down my spine.

“You have a gift, Byron, not just in your work but also in the way you speak. It’s rare to find someone so passionate about their profession.” I leaned forward, my eyes locking with his. “And I must admit, I find your appreciation for the female form quite… intriguing.”

A slight blush crept up his cheeks, and he chuckled softly. “I’ve always had a soft spot for BBWs, Carol. There’s something about a woman with curves—it’s like a work of art, meant to be admired and cherished.”

His words sent a thrill through my body. I’d always embraced my size, but hearing it described as art was a new and exciting experience. I felt a connection with Byron, a shared understanding of beauty beyond the conventional.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and before we knew it, hours had passed. We discovered a mutual love for old movies and live theater, and Byron’s knowledge of the city’s cultural scene impressed me. He suggested we catch a play together, and I eagerly agreed, excited to explore this new connection.

As the date of our theater outing approached, I found myself growing more and more attracted to Byron. His texts and calls were a delightful mix of sweet nothings and intellectual conversations. He had a way with words, making me feel desired and appreciated.

On the night of the play, I dressed to impress, choosing a form-fitting dress that accentuated my generous curves. My blonde hair fell in soft waves, and I added a touch of red lipstick, a bold statement that matched my confident stride. Byron’s eyes widened when he saw me, and his smile was like a warm embrace.

“You look absolutely stunning, Carol. I can’t wait to show you off to the city.” He took my hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through my body.

The play was a delightful comedy, and Byron’s laughter was like music to my ears. His arm around my shoulders felt natural, and I snuggled closer, inhaling his subtle cologne. As the curtain fell, we shared a lingering kiss in the theater lobby, our passion ignited by the night’s entertainment.

“I don’t want the night to end,” Byron whispered, his breath hot against my neck. “Come back to my place. I want to show you my… collection.”

Intrigued by his mysterious invitation, I agreed, my curiosity getting the better of me. Byron’s apartment was a cozy sanctuary, filled with mementos from his travels and books on various subjects, reflecting his diverse interests. But it was his bedroom that truly captivated me.

“My sanctuary,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “This is where I find solace and pleasure.”

The room was dimly lit, with candles casting a warm glow. Soft jazz played in the background, setting the mood. Byron’s bed was a massive four-poster, draped in luxurious fabrics. I ran my fingers along the silk sheets, imagining the pleasures they had witnessed.

“Do you like what you see, Carol?” Byron’s voice was thick with anticipation.

I turned to face him, my eyes locking with his. “I love it. But I’d love it even more if you showed me what makes this room so special.”

He stepped closer, his body radiating heat. With gentle hands, he untied the sash of my dress, letting it fall to the floor. I stood before him in my lingerie, my full breasts spilling from the lacy cups, my hips rounded and inviting. Byron’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight.

“You’re breathtaking, Carol. A true goddess.” His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs teasing my nipples to hardness. I arched into his touch, my head falling back in pleasure.

“I want to worship every inch of you,” he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down my neck.

He guided me to the bed, his hands exploring my body with reverence. He kissed and licked my sensitive spots, making me squirm with desire. His fingers deftly unhooked my bra, freeing my heavy breasts. He suckled my nipples, drawing them deep into his mouth, his tongue swirling in exquisite patterns. I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair, urging him on.

“Your body is a masterpiece, Carol. I want to savor every curve.” Byron’s words were punctuated by his skilled mouth, moving lower to kiss and nibble at my belly.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties, slowly sliding them down my thighs. I lifted my hips to assist, eager for his touch. He paused, taking in the sight of my exposed pussy, glistening with desire.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot against my sensitive flesh.

Byron’s tongue darted out, tracing my folds, making me gasp. He lapped at my juices, his mouth working its magic, driving me wild with pleasure. I gripped the sheets, my hips bucking as he found my sweet spot, his tongue flicking relentlessly. I cried out, my orgasm crashing over me in waves, my body trembling in his arms.

“That’s it, my love. Let go,” he encouraged, his voice hoarse with desire.

After my climax, Byron rose to his knees, his eyes smoldering with passion. He quickly shed his clothes, revealing a muscular body that rippled with strength. His erection jutted proudly, thick and veined, a testament to his desire.

“I need to be inside you, Carol. Can’t wait any longer.” He positioned himself between my thighs, his cock nudging at my entrance.

I guided him in, my body welcoming his invasion. Byron filled me slowly, his length stretching me deliciously. He paused, letting me adjust to his size, then began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. I wrapped my legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with abandon.

“Yes, Byron! Oh, you feel so good,” I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders.

He pounded into me, his cock hitting all the right spots. His hands gripped my hips, guiding our movements, as he buried himself deep within me. I matched his pace, my body responding to his every stroke, our pleasure building to a fever pitch.

“I’m close, Carol. So close,” he groaned, his face contorted with ecstasy.

I tightened my muscles around him, milking his cock, and he let out a primal roar as he came, filling me with his hot seed. We collapsed in a sweaty heap, our hearts racing, our bodies intertwined.

As we lay there, sated and satisfied, Byron turned to me, his eyes shining with adoration. “Carol, you’re incredible. I never imagined I’d find such passion and beauty in one woman.”

I smiled, my heart overflowing with joy. “And I never thought I’d find such a caring, sensitive man in an undertaker. You’ve shown me that beauty can be found in the most unexpected places.”

Byron’s lips found mine, and we kissed passionately, sealing our newfound connection. Our first date had been a whirlwind of emotions, from the somber funeral to the explosive passion we’d shared. I knew this was just the beginning of a journey filled with love, lust, and the unique appreciation of a man who saw beauty in the most unconventional of places.

Confessions of Desire

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I stepped into the dimly lit confessional booth at St. Michael’s Church, my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and guilt. It had been a while since my last confession, and I, Brooke, a 42-year-old bombshell with a wild side, had accumulated quite a list of sins to confess, especially in the realm of the sensual. Little did I know that this confession would be unlike any other, and it would forever change my perception of the sacred and the profane.

My life had always been a delicate balance between my faith and my insatiable appetite for pleasure. I was a woman who knew what she wanted, and I had no qualms about going after it. My blonde hair, green eyes, and curvaceous figure often turned heads wherever I went, and I relished the attention. But beneath the confident exterior, I struggled with my faith, questioning whether my actions were truly aligned with the teachings of the church.

As I knelt in the confessional, the scent of incense and the faint echo of prayers whispered by the faithful filled the air. I took a deep breath, my fingers tracing the smooth wooden surface of the partition that separated me from the priest. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” I began, my voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

I started with the more mundane transgressions—the occasional white lie, a stolen glance at a forbidden lover—but it was when I delved into the details of my sexual escapades that the atmosphere in the confessional shifted. I described my latest adventure, a passionate encounter with a stranger I had met at a bar. His name was unimportant, but his touch, his taste, and the way he had made me feel were seared into my memory.

“I met him on a Friday night, Father,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with desire as I recalled the events. “He had this intense gaze that made me feel exposed, like he could see right through my dress and into my soul. We shared a drink, and before I knew it, we were in the backseat of his car, our bodies entangled in a frenzy of lust.”

As I spoke, I could hear the priest’s breathing change. It became heavier, more labored, and I paused, wondering if I had said something wrong. But then, I heard a faint rustling sound, like fabric brushing against skin, and my curiosity got the better of me. I leaned closer to the partition, my heart racing.

“I… I undressed him slowly, Father,” I continued, my voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. “His body was hard and sculpted, and as I ran my fingers over his chest, I could feel his heart pounding beneath my touch. He moaned softly as I explored him, and I couldn’t resist taking him into my mouth, tasting his desire.”

The priest’s breathing grew even more rapid, and I was certain he was not praying. I could hear the distinct sound of flesh sliding against flesh, and my eyes widened in realization. Father O’Grady, a man of God, was pleasuring himself while listening to my confessions. A rush of emotions flooded me—shock, arousal, and a strange sense of power.

“Oh, God, Father,” I gasped, my words becoming more breathless as I continued my story. “I rode him like a wild stallion, my body moving in rhythm with his. His hands gripped my hips, leaving marks on my skin, and I screamed his name as I climaxed, my body trembling with ecstasy.”

The priest’s breathing hitched, and I heard a muffled groan, followed by the sound of his hand moving frantically. I pictured him in the other room, his clerical robes bunched around his waist, his hand wrapped tightly around his erect shaft, stroking himself to completion as he listened to my sinful tales.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” I whispered, my voice thick with desire. “I’ve had countless lovers, and I fear I’ve become addicted to the thrill of the flesh. I can’t seem to control my desires, and I find myself craving more, always more.”

As I finished my confession, the priest’s movements slowed, and I imagined him spent, his release staining his robes. There was a moment of silence, and then his voice, raspy and strained, broke the stillness.

“My child, your sins are indeed grave, but there is redemption for those who seek it. Pray for forgiveness and resist the temptations of the flesh. Go now, and may God grant you the strength to overcome your desires.”

I sat in silence, my mind reeling. I had expected absolution, but instead, I had witnessed a man of God succumbing to his own earthly desires. I felt a strange sense of connection to Father O’Grady, as if we had shared an intimate moment, despite the barrier between us.

As I left the confessional, my legs felt weak, and my mind was a blur of conflicting thoughts. I wanted to confront Father O’Grady, to understand why he had done what he did, but I also feared the consequences. The church was a sanctuary for me, a place where I sought guidance and solace, and now it was tainted with the memory of his hidden passion.

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself returning to St. Michael’s, drawn by an inexplicable force. I wanted to see Father O’Grady again, to understand the man behind the collar. I began attending mass regularly, my eyes searching for him among the congregation. When our eyes met, I could sense the unspoken acknowledgment of our shared secret.

One evening, after a particularly moving sermon, I approached him, my heart pounding. “Father O’Grady, may I have a word?” I asked, my voice steady despite my nerves.

He led me to a quiet corner of the church, away from prying eyes. “Yes, my child, what troubles you?” His voice was gentle, but I detected a hint of apprehension.

I took a deep breath, my green eyes locking with his. “I know what you did in the confessional, Father. I felt your desire, and I saw the way you struggled with your own temptations.”

Father O’Grady’s face paled, and he opened his mouth to speak, but I raised my hand, silencing him. “I don’t come here to judge you, Father. I understand the battle between flesh and faith. I, too, am a prisoner of my desires.”

A look of relief washed over his features, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Brooke, my child, you have no idea how much your confessions have affected me. Hearing your stories, feeling your passion through the thin wall, it stirred something within me that I thought long buried.”

I stepped closer, my body inches from his, and whispered, “And what is it that you desire, Father?”

His eyes darkened with a hunger I had never seen in a man of the cloth. “I want to see you, Brooke. I want to witness the beauty I’ve only heard described. I want to touch the flesh that has haunted my dreams.”

My heart raced as I realized the depth of his longing. I had never imagined a priest could harbor such desires, and yet, here we were, confessing our forbidden wants.

“And I, Father, have fantasized about being touched by you, blessed by your hands,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I want to feel your touch, to be guided by your wisdom, both spiritual and carnal.”

Without another word, Father O’Grady took my hand and led me to the sacristy, a private room behind the altar. The air was thick with incense and the scent of aged wood. He locked the door behind us, ensuring our privacy.

He turned to face me, his eyes burning with a fiery desire that mirrored my own. “Brooke, my child, my woman, let us explore the boundaries of faith and flesh, and find salvation in each other’s arms.”

I nodded, my body trembling with anticipation. He gently guided me to a small couch, and as I sat down, he knelt before me, his hands resting on my knees. I could feel the warmth of his touch through the thin fabric of my dress.

“May I, my child?” he asked, his voice hoarse with need.

I nodded, unable to speak, and he slowly lifted my dress, revealing my smooth thighs and the lace-trimmed garters that held up my stockings. His breath caught as he took in the sight of my bare skin.

With reverence, he ran his hands up my thighs, his touch sending shivers through my body. He paused at the edge of my panties, his fingers tracing the lace, and then he slowly slid them down, exposing my wetness to his gaze. I bit my lip, my body aching for his touch.

“You are a vision, Brooke,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “A temptress sent to test my faith.”

I smiled, my inhibitions melting away. “And you, Father, are my salvation and my damnation.”

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against mine, and then he kissed me with a fervor that belied his years of celibacy. His tongue danced with mine, exploring, tasting, and I moaned into his mouth, my hands tangling in his hair.

Father O’Grady’s hands roamed my body, caressing my breasts through the sheer fabric of my lingerie, pinching my nipples until they hardened into tight buds. I arched my back, offering myself to him, and he responded by unfastening my bra, freeing my full, round breasts.

He lowered his head, his lips closing around a taut nipple, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. I cried out, my hands gripping his shoulders, urging him on. He switched to the other breast, lavishing it with equal attention, his free hand sliding down to caress my core.

“Oh, Father, please,” I begged, my body on fire.

He stood, his hands gently pushing me back onto the couch. He unbuckled his belt, and I watched, mesmerized, as he revealed his erect manhood, thick and veined, straining against his clerical robes.

“Bless me, Father, for I am about to sin again,” I whispered, my eyes locked on his.

He smiled, a wicked grin that sent a thrill through my body. “And I shall grant you absolution, my child, in ways you’ve never imagined.”

With that, he positioned himself between my thighs, his hands on my hips, and slowly entered me, filling me with his holy rod. I gasped as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure through my body.

“Oh, God, Father,” I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders. “I’m so close…”

He increased his pace, his breathing becoming labored. “Come for me, my child. Find your release in the arms of the Lord.”

His words sent me over the edge, and I climaxed with a force that shook my entire being. I cried out his name, my body convulsing around him, and he followed, his own release spilling deep within me.

We lay entangled, our hearts racing, our bodies glistening with sweat. Father O’Grady looked down at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and satisfaction.

“My child, what we have done is a sin, but it is a sin I would gladly commit again,” he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

I smiled, my hand reaching up to caress his cheek. “And I, Father, would gladly be your penance.”

In that moment, I knew my life would never be the same. My faith and my desires had collided, and I had found a man who understood the struggle within me. As I left the church that night, I felt a sense of peace, knowing that sometimes salvation can be found in the most unexpected places, and that even the holiest of men are not immune to the power of raw, unbridled passion.

Ava’s Erotic Exploration

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I had always been a bit of an adventurous soul when it came to my sexual experiences, but even I had my limits. At 54, I thought I had explored most of my desires, yet here I was, considering something entirely new.

My name is Ava, and I’m a psychologist by profession. I spend my days listening to people’s intimate problems, offering guidance and support. Little did my patients know that their therapist had a secret wild side. With my shoulder-length brown hair, hazel eyes, and a body that still turned heads, I felt confident in my sexuality. My C-cup breasts were a source of pride, and the glasses I wore only added to my allure, giving me an air of sophistication.

I had recently started seeing a man, let’s call him James. He was a charming and handsome gentleman, a few years younger than me, with an insatiable appetite for pleasure. Our relationship was purely physical, a mutual agreement to explore our desires without the complications of a deeper connection. James had a particular fetish, one that I had never encountered before, and it intrigued me. He loved to receive oral pleasure and would often speak of his previous encounters, where women would take him deep into their mouths, only for him to pull out at the last moment and release his pent-up passion all over their faces.

At first, I was taken aback by his confession. I had never let a man cum on my face before. It was a new territory for me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. But James was persistent, and there was something about his enthusiasm that excited me. He assured me that it was a thrilling experience, and the look of pleasure on a woman’s face as she was covered in his essence was something he adored.

As the weeks went by, the thought of indulging James’s fantasy began to occupy my mind more and more. I found myself imagining what it would be like to have his thick, warm load splashed across my features. I pictured his cock, hard and throbbing, as he pulled it out of my mouth, his eyes locked on mine, filled with anticipation. The idea of submitting to his desire, of giving him the ultimate pleasure, started to arouse me in ways I couldn’t ignore.

One Friday night, after a particularly intense session with a patient, I decided it was time to explore this new frontier. I called James, my voice husky with anticipation, and invited him over. He arrived at my place, a bottle of wine in hand, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he realized what I had in store for him.

I greeted him at the door, wearing a silk robe that barely contained my excitement. My nipples were already hard beneath the thin fabric, and I could see the bulge in his pants growing as he took in my appearance. We shared a passionate kiss, our tongues dancing, and I could taste the hint of wine on his breath.

“I think it’s time,” I whispered between kisses, my hands already roaming over his muscular body.

“Oh, Ava, I’ve been dreaming of this moment,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire.

Leading him to my bedroom, I ensured the mood was set perfectly. Soft candlelight flickered, casting sensual shadows on the walls, and the faint scent of jasmine filled the air. I lay back on the bed, my robe falling open, revealing my naked body. My breasts heaved with anticipation, and my pussy was already wet, glistening with arousal.

James stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes devouring me. He slowly undressed, revealing a toned physique. His cock sprang free, thick and erect, the head glistening with pre-cum. I licked my lips, eager to taste him.

“Come here, James,” I purred, patting the bed beside me. “Let me show you how much I’ve been thinking about this.”

He joined me on the bed, his body warm against mine. I reached for his cock, wrapping my hand around it, feeling its heat and hardness. I stroked him slowly, teasing the sensitive tip with my thumb, as I leaned in to kiss him again. Our tongues entwined, and I could taste the saltiness of his desire as he moaned into my mouth.

Breaking the kiss, I turned my attention to his shaft, taking the head into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. James groaned, his hands threading through my hair, gently guiding me as I took more of him. I savored the feel of his length sliding between my lips, the taste of him growing stronger as I deep-throated him, my throat welcoming his girth.

I was in control, and I loved the power I held over him. I sucked and teased, taking him to the edge of ecstasy and then pulling back, only to start again. His breathing became ragged, and his hips began to thrust gently, seeking release. I looked up at him through my lashes, my eyes daring him to take what he wanted.

“Ava, I’m close,” he whispered, his voice strained. “I want to give you what you’ve been craving.”

I released his cock from my mouth with a pop, a string of saliva connecting us for a moment before breaking. I smiled, my hand still stroking his length, as I said, “I want you to paint my face, James. I want to feel your cum all over me.”

With that, I leaned forward and took him back into my mouth, sucking hard, my hand pumping the base of his shaft. James’s eyes rolled back as he surrendered to the pleasure. I could feel his cock twitching, a sure sign he was about to explode.

Suddenly, he pulled out, his hand gripping the base of his shaft tightly. I looked up at him, my eyes wide with anticipation, as he positioned himself above my face. With a groan, he released his hold, and I felt the first warm spurt of his cum land on my cheek, quickly followed by another on my chin. He aimed his throbbing cock, painting my face with his essence, each pulse of his cock delivering a thick, white offering.

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation. His cum was warm and sticky, covering my skin, dripping down my face, and pooling in the hollow of my throat. I could feel it sliding into my hair, and the scent of his release filled my nostrils, a primal aroma that only heightened my arousal.

James continued to decorate my face, his cock twitching as it delivered the last of his load. He then collapsed beside me, his breathing heavy, a satisfied smile on his face. I reached up, my fingers coated in his cum, and brought them to my mouth, sucking them clean, my eyes never leaving his.

“That was incredible,” he breathed, reaching out to stroke my cum-covered cheek. “I’ve never seen anything sexier.”

I giggled, the sound muffled by the cum on my face. “I think I’ve found a new favorite pastime, James. But I must say, it’s quite a mess.”

He laughed, leaning in to kiss me gently, his tongue playing with the cum on my lips. “Let me help you clean up, my beautiful Ava.”

We retreated to the bathroom, where James gently washed the cum from my face and hair, his touch tender and loving. As he dried my skin with a soft towel, I felt a sense of closeness and intimacy I hadn’t expected. Perhaps there was more to this man than just a sexual fetish.

That night, we made love passionately, our bodies entwined, exploring each other in new and exciting ways. James was attentive and gentle, ensuring my pleasure was paramount. As I lay in his arms afterward, I realized that sometimes, it’s the things we least expect that can bring us the most joy.

The next morning, I woke up to find James preparing breakfast in the kitchen, a sight that warmed my heart. As I joined him, he turned, a smile lighting up his face.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, kissing me softly. “How’s the face?”

I laughed, feeling a new sense of freedom and playfulness. “It’s clean, but I think I might just let you dirty it up again tonight.”

As we shared a playful breakfast, I knew that this was just the beginning of many more erotic adventures to come. James’s fetish had opened a new door for me, and I couldn’t wait to explore it further, one cum-covered face at a time.

Seduction in the Shoe Store

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I couldn’t get that gorgeous shoe clerk out of my mind. His name was Todd, and he was young, probably in his early twenties, with a charming smile and bright blue eyes that seemed to see right through me. I found myself captivated by his youthful energy and handsome features. My long dark blonde hair, which I usually wore down, framed my face as I plotted my next move, a naughty plan to ensure I’d see him again.

Knowing I’d be back at the shoe store soon, I spent the following days imagining how I could seduce this innocent-looking young man. I wanted to ignite a fire in him, to show him the pleasures an experienced woman like me could offer. The idea of corrupting his youthful innocence was thrilling.

On the day of my return, I dressed with care, choosing a short, tight skirt that hugged my hips and a silk blouse that accentuated my curves. I slipped on a pair of black thigh-high stockings, knowing they’d provide a tantalizing glimpse of my legs. But the most daring part of my outfit was what I chose not to wear—any underwear. I wanted to give Todd a show he’d never forget.

As I entered the store, my heart raced, anticipating the moment I’d see him again. There he was, straightening a display, his strong, tanned arms flexing with each movement. Our eyes met, and I felt a jolt of electricity. He smiled, his eyes lighting up with recognition, and I sauntered over, my hips swaying.

“Welcome back,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “Did you find what you were looking for last time?”

“Not exactly,” I replied, my voice low and sultry. “I think I need your expert help again.”

Todd’s eyes flicked down to my legs, and I knew he was noticing the absence of panty lines under my skirt. A spark of excitement flashed in his eyes, but he maintained his professional demeanor. “Of course, happy to help. What kind of shoes are you looking for today?”

I pointed to a pair of strappy sandals with dangerously high heels. “Those,” I said, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. “I want to try those on.”

He bent down to retrieve the shoes, and I took the opportunity to tease him. I crossed my legs, letting my skirt ride up, revealing my smooth, bare thighs. I watched his eyes widen as he caught a glimpse of my glistening, shaved pussy. It was already wet, anticipating the game we were about to play.

As he stood up, I noticed the bulge in his pants, straining against the fabric. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Let’s get you into the fitting room,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

I followed him, my heart pounding in my chest. The fitting room was small, intimate, and as I sat down, I made sure to part my legs slightly, giving him an unobstructed view of my exposed cunt. I watched his face, seeing the internal struggle as he tried to focus on his task.

“These shoes are a bit tricky to put on,” he said, his fingers brushing against my ankle as he guided my foot into the sandal. His touch sent shivers up my spine, and I bit my lip to stifle a moan.

“Maybe I should try something else,” I purred, leaning back in the chair and spreading my legs wider. “I want to make sure I choose the right pair.”

Todd’s breath quickened, and he cleared his throat again. “Um, sure. I can bring you some other options.”

As he turned to leave, I reached out and touched his arm. “You’re very good at this, you know,” I said, my voice low and seductive. “You have such a talent for making a woman feel special.”

He paused, his hand on the fitting room door. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I—I like to make sure customers are happy.”

I smiled, my eyes holding his. “I bet you do,” I whispered. “And I have a feeling you’re very good at making women happy in all sorts of ways.”

Todd’s face flushed, and he took a step closer, his hand still on the door handle. “I—I should get those other shoes,” he stammered.

I stood up, my skirt riding up even higher, and moved closer to him. “You know, I’ve been thinking about you since I left the store last time,” I confessed, my breath warm against his ear. “I couldn’t stop thinking about those strong hands of yours and what they could do.”

He turned to face me, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve been thinking about you too,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I can’t stop imagining what’s under that skirt.”

I smiled, my hand sliding up his chest, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch. “Why don’t you find out?” I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

Without another word, he pulled me into a passionate kiss. His lips were soft yet demanding, and I melted into his embrace, my hands running through his hair. His tongue danced with mine, and I could taste the hunger in his kiss.

Breaking away, he looked into my eyes, his breath ragged. “I want you,” he said, his voice hoarse with need. “But not here.”

I smiled, taking his hand and placing a small piece of paper in his palm. “Come to my place,” I whispered, my lips brushing his ear. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

With that, I left the store, my heart racing and my body buzzing with anticipation. I knew I had ignited a fire in Todd, and I couldn’t wait to feel his youthful passion.

Back at my apartment, I prepared for his arrival. I lit candles, creating a sensual ambiance, and put on a sexy playlist, letting the music fill the room with a sultry rhythm. I wanted our first encounter to be perfect, to show him a night he’d never forget.

When the doorbell rang, I took a deep breath, smoothing down my dress. I opened the door, and there he was, looking even more handsome than I remembered. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“You look incredible,” he said, his voice filled with admiration.

I smiled, taking his hand and leading him into the living room. “Thank you,” I replied, my voice soft. “I wanted to create a special atmosphere for us.”

He looked around, taking in the candles and the soft music. “It’s perfect,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.

I moved closer, sliding my hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. “I’ve been thinking about this moment,” I confessed, my breath mingling with his. “About feeling your body against mine.”

Todd’s hands found my waist, pulling me closer, and he kissed me with an intensity that took my breath away. His lips were hungry, demanding, and I responded in kind, my tongue dancing with his. I could taste the passion and desire in his kiss.

As our kiss deepened, his hands began to roam, exploring my body. He traced the curves of my hips, the small of my back, and then slowly, teasingly, he lifted my dress, his fingers brushing against my bare skin. I shivered at his touch, my body yearning for more.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath hot against my neck. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

I giggled softly, my hands working on the buttons of his shirt. “It’s happening,” I assured him, my fingers deftly undoing the buttons. “And it’s going to be amazing.”

His shirt fell open, revealing his sculpted chest, and I ran my hands over his warm skin, feeling the definition of his muscles. He groaned as my fingers trailed down his abdomen, teasing the waistband of his pants.

“I want to feel you,” I whispered, my lips brushing his ear. “All of you.”

With a swift motion, I unbuckled his belt and slid my hands into his pants, wrapping my fingers around his throbbing cock. He was hard, so hard, and I sted him through his pants, feeling his length and thickness.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, his head falling back as I sted him. “You’re incredible.”

I smiled against his neck, my lips leaving a trail of kisses as I worked his pants down his hips, freeing his rigid shaft. It sprang forward, eager and ready, and I stroked it gently, marveling at its size and warmth.

“I want to taste you,” I whispered, dropping to my knees in front of him.

I took him into my mouth, my lips sliding down his length, my tongue swirling around the head. I savored the taste of him, the feel of his cock throbbing against my tongue. He moaned, his hands tangling in my hair, encouraging me to take more of him.

I deepthroated him, taking him as deep as I could, my throat contracting around his shaft. He was thick and long, and I reveled in the pleasure I was giving him. His hips moved in a gentle rhythm, fucking my mouth, and I sucked him eagerly, my hands cupping his balls, massaging them gently.

“I’m going to cum,” he gasped, his voice strained.

I increased the pace, my mouth working him feverishly, my hand stroking his shaft in sync with my mouth. He exploded, his hot cum shooting down my throat, and I swallowed eagerly, savoring his essence.

He pulled me to my feet, his lips finding mine, kissing me deeply, sharing the taste of his release. “That was incredible,” he breathed, his eyes dark with desire.

I smiled, my hands roaming over his body. “We’ve only just begun,” I promised, my voice husky. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.”

In my bedroom, I pushed him onto the bed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. I straddled him, my dress riding up, exposing my bare pussy, now glistening with arousal. I leaned forward, my breasts brushing against his chest, and kissed him deeply, my tongue exploring his mouth.

His hands roamed my body, caressing my thighs, my hips, and then he cupped my breasts, his thumbs teasing my hardened nipples. I arched into his touch, moaning into his mouth.

“I want to feel you inside me,” I whispered, grinding my hips against his.

He reached down, positioning his cock at my entrance, and with one smooth thrust, he filled me. I gasped, my body welcoming his invasion, my walls stretching to accommodate his girth.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his eyes fixed on mine.

I began to move, rising and falling on his shaft, my pussy clenching around him. He was thick and long inside me, hitting all the right spots, and I rode him with abandon, my breasts bouncing with each thrust.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he panted, his hands gripping my hips, guiding my movements.

I leaned forward, my hands braced on his chest, and looked into his eyes, seeing the raw desire there. “I want you to fuck me hard,” I demanded, my voice hoarse with need.

He flipped me onto my back, his cock never leaving my wet heat, and positioned himself between my spread legs. He thrust into me with renewed vigor, his hips slamming against mine, driving deep.

“Yes!” I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Like that, harder!”

He obliged, pounding into me, his cock filling me to the hilt with each stroke. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting his thrusts with my own. Our bodies moved as one, a primal rhythm, our skin slick with sweat.

“I’m close,” I panted, my pussy clenching around him. “So close, Todd.”

He increased his pace, his breath ragged, his eyes locked on mine. “Cum with me,” he growled, his voice primal.

I felt the tension building, an electric current running through my body. His cock, hard and throbbing inside me, was my catalyst, and as he slammed into me one final time, I shattered.

My orgasm ripped through me, waves of pleasure crashing over me. I cried out, my body convulsing, my pussy milking his cock as he emptied himself into me, his hot cum mixing with my juices.

We lay entangled, our hearts racing, our bodies slick with sweat. He rolled onto his side, pulling me close, our chests rising and falling in sync.

“That was…” He struggled for words.

“Incredible,” I finished for him, my fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “Beyond my wildest expectations.”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe I’m here with you, Renata. You’re everything I could have hoped for and more.”

I blushed at his words, feeling a warmth spread through me. “I’m glad I caught your eye in that store,” I said, my voice soft. “I wanted to show you a good time, and I think we’ve succeeded.”

He laughed, his breath tickling my neck. “You certainly have. And I have a feeling this is just the beginning.”

I smiled, knowing he was right. This encounter, born from a naughty plan and a daring exhibition, had ignited a flame that would burn brightly between us. As I lay in his arms, sated and content, I knew that our story had only just begun.

Fucking my Brother in law

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I couldn’t believe I was doing this. There I was, a 53-year-old woman, about to engage in a secret affair with my sister’s husband, Dylan. It all started so innocently, or so I thought.

I hadn’t seen my sister, Diana, in years, not since she moved across the country with her new husband. I always got along well with Dylan; he was younger than me, probably in his late thirties, with dark, brooding eyes and a smile that could make your knees weak. I remembered noticing him at Diana’s wedding, thinking how handsome he was, but I brushed it off as the natural attraction to a handsome man on such a romantic occasion.

When I planned a trip near their town, I thought it would be a great opportunity to reconnect with my sister. I missed her terribly, and the thought of seeing her again excited me. I hadn’t told her I was coming, wanting to surprise her. Little did I know, I was in for a surprise of my own.

As I pulled up to their cozy little house, my heart raced. It had been too long since I’d seen my sister, and I couldn’t wait to embrace her. I knocked on the door, my eyes scanning the surroundings, taking in the neatly trimmed hedges and the warm glow of the porch light. The door swung open, and there stood Dylan, looking even more attractive than I remembered. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes lit up with recognition.

“Meredith! What a wonderful surprise!” His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes traveled over my body, taking in my short blonde hair and the curves that had developed over the years. I felt a sudden heat between my thighs, an unfamiliar sensation that caught me off guard.

“I thought I’d drop by and see you both. It’s been ages!” I said, my voice slightly breathless.

“Diana’s not here right now. She went to the store to get some groceries. But please, come in.” He stepped aside, holding the door open for me.

I entered the house, my heart pounding. The living room was cozy, with soft lighting and a warm ambiance. I felt a bit self-conscious as I sat on the couch, my eyes darting around, taking in the familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings.

“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, maybe?” Dylan offered, his voice warm and inviting.

“Coffee would be lovely,” I replied, my eyes lingering on his strong hands as he walked towards the kitchen. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this visit was different, electric almost.

As he returned with two steaming mugs, I noticed the way his jeans hugged his muscular thighs. He handed me a cup, his fingers brushing mine, sending a jolt of awareness through my body. I took a sip, my eyes never leaving his.

“So, how have you been, Meredith?” His voice was low, his gaze intense.

“I’ve been good,” I replied, my throat suddenly dry. “And you? How’s married life treating you?”

“It’s…” He paused, setting his mug on the coffee table. “It’s complicated. Diana and I have been going through some things.”

I leaned forward, my interest piqued. “Oh? What kind of things?”

Dylan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s not as… adventurous as I’d like in the bedroom. It’s been a bit frustrating, to be honest.”

My heart raced at his confession. I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation, but I found myself drawn to his honesty.

“I understand,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “It’s important to have that connection, that spark.”

As I spoke, Dylan’s eyes seemed to darken, and he took a step closer. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and my breath quickened.

“I’ve always found you attractive, Meredith,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And seeing you here, now… it’s making it hard to resist.”

My body tingled with desire. I knew I should stop this, but the temptation was too great. I wanted to feel desired, to experience the passion that had been missing from my life for so long.

“I’ve always thought you were handsome, Dylan,” I confessed, my voice trembling.

In that moment, all rational thought escaped me. Dylan closed the distance between us, his lips crashing onto mine with a hunger that matched my own. I responded eagerly, my hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer. His kiss was intense, demanding, and I could taste the longing and desire on his tongue.

His hands roamed over my body, cupping my breasts through my blouse, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, causing them to harden instantly. I moaned into his mouth, my inhibitions melting away.

“Oh, Dylan,” I breathed, as he broke the kiss, his lips trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of fire.

He gently pushed me back onto the couch, his kisses becoming more urgent as they traveled lower. I arched my back, offering myself to him, my hands tangling in his hair, guiding him to the spot between my thighs.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with need. “I want to feel you.”

Dylan didn’t need to be told twice. With a growl, he ripped my panties off, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. I gasped as his tongue found my clit, circling it slowly, teasingly. I was already so wet, and his skilled tongue only added to the building pleasure.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

His tongue delved deeper, exploring every inch of my pussy, flicking and probing, driving me wild. I bucked against his face, my hands gripping the cushions, my breath coming in short gasps.

“Yes, there… oh, Dylan!” I cried out as he found the perfect spot, his tongue relentlessly working my clit.

The pleasure was intense, unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I could feel my orgasm building, a coiling tension in my core. Dylan seemed to sense it too, his tongue working faster, his fingers joining in, sliding inside me, filling me with a delicious fullness.

“Cum for me, Meredith,” he urged, his voice a raspy command. “Let go.”

His words were all it took to send me over the edge. I cried out, my body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. I could feel my juices flowing freely, coating his face, but he didn’t seem to mind, continuing to lap at my sensitive flesh, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

As my orgasm subsided, I lay there, boneless and satisfied, my chest heaving. Dylan moved up, his lips finding mine, sharing the taste of my release.

“That was incredible,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the contours of his face.

“You’re incredible,” he replied, his eyes dark with desire. “And we’re not done yet.”

I smiled, a mischievous glint in my eyes. “I certainly hope not.”

Just then, we heard the front door open, and Diana’s voice called out, “Honey, I’m home!”

Dylan and I froze, our eyes wide with panic. We scrambled to compose ourselves, straightening our clothes, our hearts racing.

“In here, Diana!” Dylan called out, his voice strained.

My sister walked in, her arms loaded with grocery bags. “Meredith! I had no idea you were coming. What a wonderful surprise!”

I managed a smile, my heart still pounding. “I thought I’d drop by and see you both. It’s been too long.”

Diana set the bags on the counter, her eyes darting between us. “I’m so glad you’re here. We have so much to catch up on.”

As I sat there, sipping the now-cold coffee, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. I knew I had crossed a line, but the taste of Dylan’s lips and the memory of his skilled tongue were still fresh in my mind. I looked forward to the rest of my visit, knowing that this was just the beginning of a passionate affair, one that would satisfy my desires and keep me coming back for more.