I am alone at home, lying in bed and in the company of my novel in front of the few options offered by television programming. My husband will be away for several days due to work reasons. To me, that has never been a handicap; on the contrary, I like to enjoy my space and thus detoxify the relationship from the monotony that generates over the years. I don't know if my husband will have the same experience, and I also don't know if he's ever cheated on me during one of his trips. I've never been unfaithful, and that's something I can boast about after twenty years of marriage, which is said to be a long time. I can say that our sexual relationship is satisfying in almost all senses, and the truth is that putting someone else's horns has never entered my plans. Our sexual relations are satisfying, so a one-night stand hasn't caught my attention, but things can change in a flash.
I'm fifty years old and not at my physical best, but I don't complain. Age is what it is, and one can no longer aspire to have the body of a twenty-year-old, no matter how much effort they put in, and especially after having given birth twice. In any case, my curves are still in place, suggestive and capable of arousing passions in the male sector.
Without further ado, I'll tell you about my experience.
As I said, I'm reading my novel, and although it's not an erotic novel, the description of a sexual scene between its protagonists manages to excite me, and without realizing it, my right-hand fingers are caressing my right nipple, which intensifies my ardor until I feel the imperative need to masturbate. It doesn't take me long to get rid of my pants and quickly find myself with my finger tormenting my clitoris, until I have to put the book aside and focus on the pleasure that my hand is giving to my eager vagina. The movement accelerates and two other fingers join in the rubbing, so while my right hand is... Sliding one and then again along the soaked crack, my left hand's middle finger draws circular movements on my clitoris until my sex starts to convulse, exploding in a pleasurable orgasm that leaves me motionless for a few moments. I get up from the bed and sit down on the bidet to wash myself, then put on my underwear and light a cigarette. Without knowing exactly why, I turn on my laptop and mechanically open my email program to see if there are any new ones, but nothing. I join a chat where I usually go when I'm bored, without any intention other than distracting myself.
Normally, the windows of private rooms assault me with dozens of suitors with all sorts of intentions, mainly dishonest ones. I don't usually pay much attention when people are disrespectful, and I choose who I talk to, but soon a window opens in front of me and I contemplate an image of my interlocutor's attributes, and I don't believe what I'm seeing. I prepare to close the window, it asks if I like what I see, also saying that he wants me too, it's all for me. I don't respond, but then I receive an invitation to accept his camera. After a few moments of hesitation, I accept the invitation and see a close-up of a young man lying down, rubbing one off on a cock that at first doesn't seem real, but rather a prosthetic he put there to impress, but far from reality.
I imagine he's noticed my surprised face at his attributes. He's a 23-year-old young man, excessively thin, I'd say a bit gaunt. He's not handsome, quite the opposite. He doesn't attract me at all, but he knows his talent and so do I.
His hand moves up and down on the pile of flesh and my pussy starts secreting fluids without any restraint. The young man asks me to undress, but I don't, even though it appeals to me. I'm not used to such... Spontaneity. He asks if I like what I see and I'm forced to tell him yes. At that point, his ego is as unbridled as his cock, so the movement of his hand increases the rhythm while he watches me. He asks me again to take off my clothes and I understand it's only fair. I take off my bra and shirt and show him that my tits haven't given in yet to the force of gravity. My nipples are hard and sensitive. He wants to screw me, he says, and I want him to do it, I respond. Then he asks where I live so he can come and give me a good time. I realize he's being serious, unlike my intentions which weren't aiming that high, just to masturbate while we looked at each other.
—Give me your address, I won't be late— he repeats. We're both on the same city chat, so I deduce we live relatively close. I don't know what to do. The boy could be my son, and apart from that, I've never done something this crazy before, but my pussy is speaking for me, and without thinking about the consequences, I give him my address. He gets up, walks his cock around the camera, and contemplates a close-up of his red head with a drop of precum dedicated to me, then struggles to put it away in his pants and writes:
—Give me half an hour— and automatically a no connection message appears on the window.
My heart is racing. What have I done? I ask myself.
It's 10 pm and normally my husband calls at 11 pm to wish me goodnight. It's a detail I catch too late. Maybe I'll tell him I'm not feeling well and went to bed, so I won't have to give many explanations. I start thinking that the fact that the boy comes to my house might cause complications. I don't know him at all. Why did I do it then? I ask myself again. My pussy is answering the question too.
After washing up and getting ready, I wait for his arrival, but it seems like he's... delates and the thirty minutes turn into forty-five until I hear the doorbell. I'm a bundle of nerves. I take off the intercom and see through the video door as he smiles at me. I open it and wait behind the door for him to come up from the eleventh floor in the elevator. When the door opens, my heart seems like it's going to jump out of my chest. I've put on my best lingerie and over some tights with a top that outlines my figure.
We shake hands and exchange a welcome kiss. He looks me up and down, evaluating the goods. He tells me I look great and I thank him for the compliment. I offer him a coffee to break the ice, trying to be polite, but it seems like he's very clear about what he's here for and it's not exactly to have coffee. We sit on the sofa and his mouth searches for mine without further ado. Despite his youth, it seems like he knows what he's doing. It's as if the roles are reversed. I should be the experienced one and he the novice.
His expert hand takes hold of one of my breasts and starts to massage it and weigh the merchandise under my top. When it seems like he's checked out the size and consistency of my breasts, his hand goes in search of other treasures, I shudder and exhale a moan as I feel a finger sinking into my wet sex. It seems like he's lost patience and also good manners. He literally rips off my tights and top, leaving me with my tiny panties and bra under my breasts. He undresses me completely and has me at his mercy. I'm very horny and wanting him to open me up with that thick one, but his intentions are different for now. He throws me onto the sofa and spreads my legs, so he stays there for a moment contemplating my pussy fully opened and eager, dripping with liquids. The boy kneels down and starts devouring it. I don't even know his name, I think it doesn't matter to me. What matters at that moment is the pleasure he's giving me by exploring all my Folds with her tongue. She's screwing me with it, taking it for a ride on my clitoris, then sliding down to my anus and even making incursions into it. It's a new sensation for me, and definitely very pleasurable.
I'm impatient and ask her to screw me already.
—You're quite the fox—are you made? she says. I stay somewhat perplexed, but at this point, what she says doesn't matter much to me. I've been sincere and all I want in those moments is for her to split me in two.
She gets up and prepares to unbutton her pants. The hump that marks her gives her a slightly amorphous look. Between how scrawny she is and the bulge on her belly, it looks like an inform shapeless thing, but I don't care. I want to touch her and slide my hand through the protuberance, trying to gauge its size. I help myself with the other hand and search for the cowboy's button to unbutton it, then unfasten the zipper and let her pants down along with her suspenders, releasing a magnificent cock that springs out like a spring giving me a welcome.
I knew what was hiding behind the scenes, but in person it's even more impressive. I slide my hand through the trunk, making sure it's real. Oh boy, it is. My mouth opens eagerly, but I still don't put it in. I give her repeated kisses on the glans from the base and then my tongue starts to explore it, serpentining through the foreskin while I grab her balls with my hand.
I look up and contemplate her face of pleasure. If she's already pretty ugly, with her face disfigured by pleasure, it's even uglier. I take the cock again and put it in my mouth. Not even half of it fits. He tries to lodge the shaft in my throat, but it seems like an impractical feat and I dedicate myself to bobbing my head making a blowjob worthy of the best professional, proof of which is the splatter that ventures straight into my stomach. Automatically, I spit out the cock in a gulp, and another jolt. cum crosses my face leaving me momentarily blind, and without giving me a break I start noticing how one after another the slaps are impacting my face until the young stallion's ejaculation slowly subsides. I can't see anything. I try to wipe off the goo with my fingers to open my eyes and go clean myself, but it's hard work. The phone starts ringing. I know it's my husband and I have to answer it. It couldn't be more inconvenient. I manage to grab the t-shirt and wipe myself with it, then run to the dresser and fuck you mobile. I look at my young lover and order him with my finger on his lips to keep his mouth shut. He's sitting on the sofa touching himself like he hadn't just come, still showing off a horse-sized erection, and while I'm mumbling I watch as my young lover masturbates. My appearance must be quite comical. I still have semen all over my face and hair. I'm nervous and worried about the uncomfortable situation, whereas the kid seems to be enjoying the moment. I try to compose myself and tell my husband that I've gone to bed because I don't feel well, with the intention of getting him off the phone soon, but he's decided not to hang up and is willing to have a conversation to cheer me up. I don't want cheering up, all I want is to ride the erect cock that's calling my name. --Honey, I don't feel well. I'm going to sleep-- I insist one more time, and since he refuses to hang up, I run to mount the impatient stallion. I fuck you the cock and ride it for a few seconds. Then I ask if he has condoms, but he says no, so I start weighing other risks, still, I'm so hot that I trust my luck. Apart from health risks, I still have my period and could get pregnant. My husband is sterile, so I don't have to worry about it in that sense, but now the situation is different, though doubts dissipate when I feel the trunk. Slipping inside my being. It's like a damn hot iron bar inserted all the way to the marrow. I slowly rise as the young stud takes hold of my breasts and sucks my nipples. Then I start going back down, gradually increasing the pace. My fluids slide through the mast that's pounding against my entrails. The sensation is indescribable and the guy is straining to give it all to me, while I'm moving like an Amazon riding a wild stallion. The young man tells me if I keep this up, he'll come, but even though I want to, I can't stop. I want to come, and I do, screaming like a hysteric, as the guy gives me whacks on my buttocks. I'm not usually a screamer when I'm having sex, but now I can't help it. I scream without shame in an orgasm that doesn't want to let go of me, and when I feel the cock pulsating inside me, synchronized with mine, I notice how the semen is hitting the walls of my uterus, increasing the pleasure, and after a minute where I don't recognize myself, I get up and move away, which makes the cock escape from my cavity in a loud fart, accompanied by a copious orgasm. It's then that I become aware of my imprudence. I know I'm not ovulating, but biology isn't mathematics.
I try not to think about it, and I'm trying to calm down the pangs of guilt now gnawing at my conscience for the pleasure a young stud has given me. I'm completely satisfied, that's for sure.
I apologize and go to the bathroom. The viscous substance from inside me is still flowing, and I try to clean myself well. Although I've enjoyed like never before, I want him to leave. I'm full of his essence, and I don't want complications. I'll tell him he was great and we'll part ways here, but when I turn around to grab the towel, I find his cock half-hard in front of my face. I don't believe it. Is it that he never comes or has been without sex for months? I'm not interested in having sex again. Sometimes, however, I can't help but stare at the finial that oscillates in front of my face. He moves it from side to side with his hand as if he's trying to hypnotize me. It's clear that he feels proud of his virility and so he exhibits it satisfied. —Do you like my cock?—he asks, and I have no choice but to respond with a 'I love it'. He starts slapping my face with his hand. I try to catch it in my mouth and he keeps hitting me on the face until he finally fingers me with his hand and I make myself take it. I spit on the member and start giving him a blow job at the same time as my hand is masturbating the shaft, coordinating the movements of my hand with those of my mouth so that it gets hard in my mouth. —You're a very foxy housewife— he says, but I'm too busy to get upset about his foul language. —Your breasts are legendary, you bitch— he affirms. His cock in my mouth and his words manage to excite me again, and while with one hand I work his cock, with the other I give pleasure to my wife, who starts asking for more like in my best times. He lifts me off the bidet and slams me against the sink, from which I now have a dreamlike view of my ass. I feel strong blows on my buttocks accompanied by insults about my backside, but instead of being annoyed, it's like a compliment, actually I enjoy it. He positions his glans at the entrance of my pussy and without stopping he fills me with cock, but far from stopping, he starts a movement of less to more, while we both look at ourselves in the mirror. I see his face of pleasure at the same time that he's screwing me harder and harder, just like he sees mine knowing that he's giving it to me good. My buttocks must be raw from so much slapping, but I love being slapped at the same time that my pussy is getting ravaged with unusual fury. —Do you like being screwed?—he asks totally unbridled. —I love it— I respond in kind. —More than your husband?— he asks again, and I have no choice but to admit What is the best fuck of my life, and at the same time that his cock enters and exits my pussy implacably, my finger searches for the clitoris to achieve orgasm. —Come on, slut! —he demands, and he doesn't have to tell me twice. The climax comes to me and shakes my body making me scream with pleasure like never before. He doesn't stop, but rather the opposite. He holds onto my hips and fucks me with vehemence, as if he wanted to pull it out of my mouth. I keep coming and moving my ass like a possessed until I notice that he slows down the rhythm, and again I feel the cum hitting inside me at the same time that I feel his cock convulsing. Slowly, the screams and moans cease, and he extracts his member, making the semen flow from my interior like a fountain. I sit back down on the bidet to wash myself this time with the intention of it being the final one, although I would not be able to continue even if I wanted to. I'm exhausted but also enormously satisfied, with a hint of remorse for what I've done, which quickly dissipates when sleep catches up with me. We both fell asleep after all that excess. It wasn't my intention for him to stay the night, but I fell asleep without being able to help it, as if someone had given me a sedative. I slept like a log, so by the next morning I didn't remember that we had stayed up all night after all that messing around, and when I turned over I was startled to see the scrawny body of the kid. It's true that there's nothing like a restorative sleep, since the morning erection presented by the boy has stirred my sex again, and I've started the morning taking a considerable dose of cum in my breakfast to replenish my strength, since the morning promises to be lively
I'm fifty years old and not at my physical best, but I don't complain. Age is what it is, and one can no longer aspire to have the body of a twenty-year-old, no matter how much effort they put in, and especially after having given birth twice. In any case, my curves are still in place, suggestive and capable of arousing passions in the male sector.
Without further ado, I'll tell you about my experience.
As I said, I'm reading my novel, and although it's not an erotic novel, the description of a sexual scene between its protagonists manages to excite me, and without realizing it, my right-hand fingers are caressing my right nipple, which intensifies my ardor until I feel the imperative need to masturbate. It doesn't take me long to get rid of my pants and quickly find myself with my finger tormenting my clitoris, until I have to put the book aside and focus on the pleasure that my hand is giving to my eager vagina. The movement accelerates and two other fingers join in the rubbing, so while my right hand is... Sliding one and then again along the soaked crack, my left hand's middle finger draws circular movements on my clitoris until my sex starts to convulse, exploding in a pleasurable orgasm that leaves me motionless for a few moments. I get up from the bed and sit down on the bidet to wash myself, then put on my underwear and light a cigarette. Without knowing exactly why, I turn on my laptop and mechanically open my email program to see if there are any new ones, but nothing. I join a chat where I usually go when I'm bored, without any intention other than distracting myself.
Normally, the windows of private rooms assault me with dozens of suitors with all sorts of intentions, mainly dishonest ones. I don't usually pay much attention when people are disrespectful, and I choose who I talk to, but soon a window opens in front of me and I contemplate an image of my interlocutor's attributes, and I don't believe what I'm seeing. I prepare to close the window, it asks if I like what I see, also saying that he wants me too, it's all for me. I don't respond, but then I receive an invitation to accept his camera. After a few moments of hesitation, I accept the invitation and see a close-up of a young man lying down, rubbing one off on a cock that at first doesn't seem real, but rather a prosthetic he put there to impress, but far from reality.
I imagine he's noticed my surprised face at his attributes. He's a 23-year-old young man, excessively thin, I'd say a bit gaunt. He's not handsome, quite the opposite. He doesn't attract me at all, but he knows his talent and so do I.
His hand moves up and down on the pile of flesh and my pussy starts secreting fluids without any restraint. The young man asks me to undress, but I don't, even though it appeals to me. I'm not used to such... Spontaneity. He asks if I like what I see and I'm forced to tell him yes. At that point, his ego is as unbridled as his cock, so the movement of his hand increases the rhythm while he watches me. He asks me again to take off my clothes and I understand it's only fair. I take off my bra and shirt and show him that my tits haven't given in yet to the force of gravity. My nipples are hard and sensitive. He wants to screw me, he says, and I want him to do it, I respond. Then he asks where I live so he can come and give me a good time. I realize he's being serious, unlike my intentions which weren't aiming that high, just to masturbate while we looked at each other.
—Give me your address, I won't be late— he repeats. We're both on the same city chat, so I deduce we live relatively close. I don't know what to do. The boy could be my son, and apart from that, I've never done something this crazy before, but my pussy is speaking for me, and without thinking about the consequences, I give him my address. He gets up, walks his cock around the camera, and contemplates a close-up of his red head with a drop of precum dedicated to me, then struggles to put it away in his pants and writes:
—Give me half an hour— and automatically a no connection message appears on the window.
My heart is racing. What have I done? I ask myself.
It's 10 pm and normally my husband calls at 11 pm to wish me goodnight. It's a detail I catch too late. Maybe I'll tell him I'm not feeling well and went to bed, so I won't have to give many explanations. I start thinking that the fact that the boy comes to my house might cause complications. I don't know him at all. Why did I do it then? I ask myself again. My pussy is answering the question too.
After washing up and getting ready, I wait for his arrival, but it seems like he's... delates and the thirty minutes turn into forty-five until I hear the doorbell. I'm a bundle of nerves. I take off the intercom and see through the video door as he smiles at me. I open it and wait behind the door for him to come up from the eleventh floor in the elevator. When the door opens, my heart seems like it's going to jump out of my chest. I've put on my best lingerie and over some tights with a top that outlines my figure.
We shake hands and exchange a welcome kiss. He looks me up and down, evaluating the goods. He tells me I look great and I thank him for the compliment. I offer him a coffee to break the ice, trying to be polite, but it seems like he's very clear about what he's here for and it's not exactly to have coffee. We sit on the sofa and his mouth searches for mine without further ado. Despite his youth, it seems like he knows what he's doing. It's as if the roles are reversed. I should be the experienced one and he the novice.
His expert hand takes hold of one of my breasts and starts to massage it and weigh the merchandise under my top. When it seems like he's checked out the size and consistency of my breasts, his hand goes in search of other treasures, I shudder and exhale a moan as I feel a finger sinking into my wet sex. It seems like he's lost patience and also good manners. He literally rips off my tights and top, leaving me with my tiny panties and bra under my breasts. He undresses me completely and has me at his mercy. I'm very horny and wanting him to open me up with that thick one, but his intentions are different for now. He throws me onto the sofa and spreads my legs, so he stays there for a moment contemplating my pussy fully opened and eager, dripping with liquids. The boy kneels down and starts devouring it. I don't even know his name, I think it doesn't matter to me. What matters at that moment is the pleasure he's giving me by exploring all my Folds with her tongue. She's screwing me with it, taking it for a ride on my clitoris, then sliding down to my anus and even making incursions into it. It's a new sensation for me, and definitely very pleasurable.
I'm impatient and ask her to screw me already.
—You're quite the fox—are you made? she says. I stay somewhat perplexed, but at this point, what she says doesn't matter much to me. I've been sincere and all I want in those moments is for her to split me in two.
She gets up and prepares to unbutton her pants. The hump that marks her gives her a slightly amorphous look. Between how scrawny she is and the bulge on her belly, it looks like an inform shapeless thing, but I don't care. I want to touch her and slide my hand through the protuberance, trying to gauge its size. I help myself with the other hand and search for the cowboy's button to unbutton it, then unfasten the zipper and let her pants down along with her suspenders, releasing a magnificent cock that springs out like a spring giving me a welcome.
I knew what was hiding behind the scenes, but in person it's even more impressive. I slide my hand through the trunk, making sure it's real. Oh boy, it is. My mouth opens eagerly, but I still don't put it in. I give her repeated kisses on the glans from the base and then my tongue starts to explore it, serpentining through the foreskin while I grab her balls with my hand.
I look up and contemplate her face of pleasure. If she's already pretty ugly, with her face disfigured by pleasure, it's even uglier. I take the cock again and put it in my mouth. Not even half of it fits. He tries to lodge the shaft in my throat, but it seems like an impractical feat and I dedicate myself to bobbing my head making a blowjob worthy of the best professional, proof of which is the splatter that ventures straight into my stomach. Automatically, I spit out the cock in a gulp, and another jolt. cum crosses my face leaving me momentarily blind, and without giving me a break I start noticing how one after another the slaps are impacting my face until the young stallion's ejaculation slowly subsides. I can't see anything. I try to wipe off the goo with my fingers to open my eyes and go clean myself, but it's hard work. The phone starts ringing. I know it's my husband and I have to answer it. It couldn't be more inconvenient. I manage to grab the t-shirt and wipe myself with it, then run to the dresser and fuck you mobile. I look at my young lover and order him with my finger on his lips to keep his mouth shut. He's sitting on the sofa touching himself like he hadn't just come, still showing off a horse-sized erection, and while I'm mumbling I watch as my young lover masturbates. My appearance must be quite comical. I still have semen all over my face and hair. I'm nervous and worried about the uncomfortable situation, whereas the kid seems to be enjoying the moment. I try to compose myself and tell my husband that I've gone to bed because I don't feel well, with the intention of getting him off the phone soon, but he's decided not to hang up and is willing to have a conversation to cheer me up. I don't want cheering up, all I want is to ride the erect cock that's calling my name. --Honey, I don't feel well. I'm going to sleep-- I insist one more time, and since he refuses to hang up, I run to mount the impatient stallion. I fuck you the cock and ride it for a few seconds. Then I ask if he has condoms, but he says no, so I start weighing other risks, still, I'm so hot that I trust my luck. Apart from health risks, I still have my period and could get pregnant. My husband is sterile, so I don't have to worry about it in that sense, but now the situation is different, though doubts dissipate when I feel the trunk. Slipping inside my being. It's like a damn hot iron bar inserted all the way to the marrow. I slowly rise as the young stud takes hold of my breasts and sucks my nipples. Then I start going back down, gradually increasing the pace. My fluids slide through the mast that's pounding against my entrails. The sensation is indescribable and the guy is straining to give it all to me, while I'm moving like an Amazon riding a wild stallion. The young man tells me if I keep this up, he'll come, but even though I want to, I can't stop. I want to come, and I do, screaming like a hysteric, as the guy gives me whacks on my buttocks. I'm not usually a screamer when I'm having sex, but now I can't help it. I scream without shame in an orgasm that doesn't want to let go of me, and when I feel the cock pulsating inside me, synchronized with mine, I notice how the semen is hitting the walls of my uterus, increasing the pleasure, and after a minute where I don't recognize myself, I get up and move away, which makes the cock escape from my cavity in a loud fart, accompanied by a copious orgasm. It's then that I become aware of my imprudence. I know I'm not ovulating, but biology isn't mathematics.
I try not to think about it, and I'm trying to calm down the pangs of guilt now gnawing at my conscience for the pleasure a young stud has given me. I'm completely satisfied, that's for sure.
I apologize and go to the bathroom. The viscous substance from inside me is still flowing, and I try to clean myself well. Although I've enjoyed like never before, I want him to leave. I'm full of his essence, and I don't want complications. I'll tell him he was great and we'll part ways here, but when I turn around to grab the towel, I find his cock half-hard in front of my face. I don't believe it. Is it that he never comes or has been without sex for months? I'm not interested in having sex again. Sometimes, however, I can't help but stare at the finial that oscillates in front of my face. He moves it from side to side with his hand as if he's trying to hypnotize me. It's clear that he feels proud of his virility and so he exhibits it satisfied. —Do you like my cock?—he asks, and I have no choice but to respond with a 'I love it'. He starts slapping my face with his hand. I try to catch it in my mouth and he keeps hitting me on the face until he finally fingers me with his hand and I make myself take it. I spit on the member and start giving him a blow job at the same time as my hand is masturbating the shaft, coordinating the movements of my hand with those of my mouth so that it gets hard in my mouth. —You're a very foxy housewife— he says, but I'm too busy to get upset about his foul language. —Your breasts are legendary, you bitch— he affirms. His cock in my mouth and his words manage to excite me again, and while with one hand I work his cock, with the other I give pleasure to my wife, who starts asking for more like in my best times. He lifts me off the bidet and slams me against the sink, from which I now have a dreamlike view of my ass. I feel strong blows on my buttocks accompanied by insults about my backside, but instead of being annoyed, it's like a compliment, actually I enjoy it. He positions his glans at the entrance of my pussy and without stopping he fills me with cock, but far from stopping, he starts a movement of less to more, while we both look at ourselves in the mirror. I see his face of pleasure at the same time that he's screwing me harder and harder, just like he sees mine knowing that he's giving it to me good. My buttocks must be raw from so much slapping, but I love being slapped at the same time that my pussy is getting ravaged with unusual fury. —Do you like being screwed?—he asks totally unbridled. —I love it— I respond in kind. —More than your husband?— he asks again, and I have no choice but to admit What is the best fuck of my life, and at the same time that his cock enters and exits my pussy implacably, my finger searches for the clitoris to achieve orgasm. —Come on, slut! —he demands, and he doesn't have to tell me twice. The climax comes to me and shakes my body making me scream with pleasure like never before. He doesn't stop, but rather the opposite. He holds onto my hips and fucks me with vehemence, as if he wanted to pull it out of my mouth. I keep coming and moving my ass like a possessed until I notice that he slows down the rhythm, and again I feel the cum hitting inside me at the same time that I feel his cock convulsing. Slowly, the screams and moans cease, and he extracts his member, making the semen flow from my interior like a fountain. I sit back down on the bidet to wash myself this time with the intention of it being the final one, although I would not be able to continue even if I wanted to. I'm exhausted but also enormously satisfied, with a hint of remorse for what I've done, which quickly dissipates when sleep catches up with me. We both fell asleep after all that excess. It wasn't my intention for him to stay the night, but I fell asleep without being able to help it, as if someone had given me a sedative. I slept like a log, so by the next morning I didn't remember that we had stayed up all night after all that messing around, and when I turned over I was startled to see the scrawny body of the kid. It's true that there's nothing like a restorative sleep, since the morning erection presented by the boy has stirred my sex again, and I've started the morning taking a considerable dose of cum in my breakfast to replenish my strength, since the morning promises to be lively
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