Cougar Page 7

  Cameron moaned and thrust back against her hand, inviting her to the very places she’d fantasised about for months. Then he shifted, and she gasped in surprise as he lifted her off her feet. He grinned down at her as their kiss broke, and she liked the way that grin looked with the lust in his eyes.

  He didn’t carry her far, but set her down on the table and examined her up and down like she was a slice of German chocolate cake and he was only deciding where to take the first taste. She reached around for her zipper, opening the dress enough to allow the straps to fall away from her arms and reveal the turquoise satin of her bra. Cameron took the invitation. He lifted both of her breasts and weighed them in his hands as he teased and manipulated them with his fingers.

  ‘I like it hard,’ she said. ‘Squeeze them. Pinch my nipples.’ She had barely gotten out the last couple of words when he gave them a rough squeeze and released them, leaving her gasping and dizzy with desire. He reached around behind her and she felt the release of her bra clasp. Then he was pulling the bra away and tossing it behind him, into the kitchen.

  She felt something cold on her nipple and the surprise made her whimper. Cameron held up a cold olive that he must have plucked from a dish, and held it to her lips, watching as she sucked it into her mouth. She moved forward and caught one of his fingers, sucking that into her mouth, too, and teasing her tongue around it as she hoped to do with his more sensitive appendage. He responded beautifully, and she watched his eyes flash a darker shade of blue as he moaned and gently fucked her mouth with his finger.

  He pulled away, then, and trailed his finger from the corner of her mouth downwards, following its path with a searing line of hot kisses at the corner of her mouth, her neck, her collarbone and onwards. She prayed that he would find her nipple quickly, but he teased around it, kissing slow circles around it and making her moan and thrust her breasts towards his face.

  ‘Damn it, Cameron,’ she started, grabbing his head. But what was meant to be a commanding touch turned into a desperate grasp as his mouth finally came down over her nipple and she fisted her hands in his hair, holding on for dear life while his lips and teeth provided him with a direct line to her clit.

  She couldn’t – had never – but there was that building sensation, like a lit fuse that burned in anticipation, concentrated dually at her clit and on her breast, where he nipped gently and sucked hard, teasing with his tongue and lips. One hand released his hair and she started to reach for her clit, knowing that if she could just touch it she would be an instant from release. But Cameron bit down on her nipple, and a surge of pleasure and pain washed through her with convulsive force before she even got close.

  She screamed as the orgasm exploded through her pelvis and breasts, meeting in the middle and washing back until her entire body was rocked with pleasure. Her breath stole away in the midst of the excitement and she panted for air, only then realising that she’d wrapped her legs around Cameron and had one fist buried in his hair, pressing his face so hard against her breast that he was probably having trouble breathing, too.

  And even still, the cocky bastard was gently stroking his tongue over her nipple, plucking her nerves like a master harpist and drawing out the quivering pleasure from her bones. She released him and fell back, panting, and he stood over her, young and sure.

  ‘That was cool,’ he said, and he grinned that boyish grin again that made her insides melt and her pussy hotter than ever. She sighed as she looked up at him, and she realised how she must look, dishevelled from her orgasm, her dress pulled down to her waist, hair a mess, skirt in disarray, reclining across the dining-room table. She imagined that she looked like some sort of sexual feast, and she intended to entice this hungry young stallion to dine.

  ‘Not a bad start,’ she said, and leaned back on one elbow to draw the attention even further to her other hand, which had danced up the tent of her skirt and was now bunching the fabric, lifting it to reveal her feminine glory, all waxed and ready for Cameron with no panties to interrupt their pleasure. ‘Are you ready for your dessert?’

  Cameron hesitated, and she watched him lift one hand to stroke his heavy cock through his pants. She hoped he was trying to preserve this vision for the future. She liked the idea of him lying in bed, hopelessly aroused by the picture of her swollen cunt all exposed for him as he stroked himself.

  He closed his eyes and a shudder passed visibly through his body, then he moved forward with slow, deliberate intensity and, with one last glance up at her from between her legs, slid his tongue deep into her slit.

  Katrina closed her own eyes and let her head fall back, moaning as he ate her out, gaining both speed and confidence as the sounds of her pleasure filled the room and her hips rocked up to meet his mouth. She whimpered with aroused frustration, desperate to feel his hot mouth close over her clit, but she didn’t know if his teasing was intentional or ignorance, and she didn’t want to spoil it for him so soon.

  He soon proved that it wasn’t ignorance guiding his tongue. He lifted one hand and brushed his fingers gently against her clit, not enough to bring her to orgasm, but plenty to bring torturous sheets of fiery arousal through her body. She threw back her head and moaned wildly, but he maintained the tease for another minute, and she could swear she could feel him smiling against her cunt.

  Then his fingers shifted to a firmer rhythm, and she could have sobbed with relief. A moment later his fingers were replaced with the hot mouth she really craved, and Katrina shouted in pleasure as he worked his magic, ‘So close! Oh, Cam, just like that! So –’ She broke off with a scream, and her hips convulsed up into his mouth as she rode the orgasm, a second’s relief skimming through her before she felt the desire for more.

  ‘I wish I’d brought the condoms out here,’ she panted,’ I want you to fuck me right here on the table.’ She started to sit up, but Cameron blushed, of all things, and reached into his pocket.

  ‘I have one,’ he said.

  She smiled a wicked grin up at him and leaned back, edging herself closer to the lip of the table. ‘Oh, Cameron, you are my favourite.’

  He unfastened his pants and she watched in breathless anticipation, teasing both of them by reaching between her own legs and stroking the wet, swollen flesh there. She was gushing with the fluid of her arousal, as horny as she had ever been. She felt another waveflood from her body and over her fingers when Cameron pulled his underwear away and stood, revealing his hard cock.

  He was truly a stallion, built long and thick as though made just to fill her up, and Katrina prayed that he’d have the energy of a young stallion, too. This was what she’d always needed – what her husband could never provide – someone to fuck her over and over until she was exhausted, her needs finally sated and her prolific desire banked.

  He noted her hungry gaze on his cock and smiled. ‘My last girlfriend was afraid.’

  ‘Come and see how scared I am,’ she replied, widening her spread legs for emphasis. ‘Look at me, I’m trembling.’ She was; her desire had diffused through her every cell, and her entire body trembled in the quest for another orgasm – for further satisfaction.

  Cameron rolled the condom on, then gave her a lewd look and rubbed his hand through her slickness, using it to lubricate his cock. He leaned over her slowly, and Katrina grabbed his upper arms, digging in with her nails. ‘Fuck me, Cameron. God damn it, put that thing inside me and fuck me until I scream.’

  With one hard thrust, he did, driving himself inside her in one smooth stroke. She arched up to meet him, her hips rising and her legs moving to capture his waist as she took every inch of him into her body, feeling pleased and full and yet still so hungry for more. She wriggled against him, and he pulled back and slammed his cock into her, forming a pistoning rhythm that she met, beat for beat.

  Every fantasy she’d ever had about him came back to her as he fucked her hard on her dining-room table, and Katrina felt the pleasure begin to mount in her again as she took him hungrily. ‘I’m going to com
e all over your cock, Cameron,’ she cried, and inarticulate sounds of pleasure followed her declaration as she felt herself tip over the edge, spasming around his erection and squeezing him with her inner walls even as she tightened her arms and legs around him.

  He continued to drive into her, and her heart could have burst at the joy she got from being fucked right through her orgasm, then, as it welled up and spilled out from her core, a second. ‘Holy shit,’ he whispered into her ear, and she screamed as she rode him hard, bucking up to meet his thrusting hips even as pleasure washed through her in what felt like a never-ending wave. ‘Holy shit, holy shit …’

  When her cunt clenched and spasmed around him for a third time, Cameron roared and increased his pace, pounding her into the table and digging his hands into her shoulders with bruising strength. He thrust one last time, deep inside her, and his entire body shuddered and then went limp. She panted as she stroked his hair and back and wondered if she should feel more dirty or wrong for fucking her son’s best friend on the dining-room table in the middle of the day. Instead, she just felt excited, aroused and pleased.

  Cameron climbed off of her, removed the condom, tied a neat little knot and folded it into a tissue that he slipped into his pocket. ‘That was amazing,’ he said.

  Katrina slid off of the table and moved towards him with the liquid grace that she gained from sex and arousal. She stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his neck, just under his jaw, and reached down with her other to stroke his half-hard cock. He shuddered under her lips and his cock twitched against her hand as she slowly drew him back to arousal.

  ‘What? Don’t tell me you’re finished. And I had such high hopes for you,’ she murmured, nibbling at his ear. Cameron moaned loudly, and his cock pulsed again, tapping against her thigh as it rose. ‘Good. Then come on, my dear stallion, the rest of the condoms are in my room.’ She had about three more hours before she had to be concerned about anyone coming home, and she planned to get a lot of use out of that time.

  A Wonderful Time

  Olivia London

  Delta May Crane looked in the mirror that morning for a fraction longer than she usually did. She wasn’t being vain. She just wanted to know who she was supposed to be that day. She was a busy woman with friends and relatives who depended on her generosity and keen business sense. An employer, caregiver and doting auntie to a lovely niece who was her child substitute. Weeks could go by without Ms Crane giving a thought to herself and, as a woman who preferred giving to receiving, this seemed a normal state of affairs.

  On this particular morning, the owner of Crane’s Crumpets and Tea in Seattle’s Lower Queen Anne neighbourhood was supposed to be a woman comfortable with her age. All around her, she witnessed middle-aged women experiencing midlife meltdowns. A science teacher in Delta’s Wednesday-night book group mused aloud that lottery winners aren’t the only people who go broke after a windfall. The instructor confessed to having inherited $100,000, only to blow the whole wad on analysis. She was broke in a year but thrice weekly she got to recline on a balding psychiatrist’s Naugahyde couch and calibrate the envy of friends as she imagined her life becoming iconic, like a New Yorker cartoon.

  Delta nodded in sympathy but, really, she had little patience with those whose climacteric challenges took the form of profligate spending. She had no rich uncle or patron saint smoothing the way to success. When she started her shop she had to make her crumpets using tuna cans with the tops and bottoms removed; it would require two years of fiscal responsibility before she could afford the stainless-steel pans she’d lovingly purchase from gourmet culinary catalogues.

  Satisfied with her work, Delta tried to sublimate her desires by doing for others, and of course renting the occasional sexy French film.

  She was through with dating. Delta had a knack for attracting what she called ‘low-resolution’ men for, after the fact of these men had dissipated, the details of them were rarely clear. She once dated a man who, when neither of them felt like cooking, would dine only at Thai restaurants. He’d order the spiciest items on the menu but push them away for being too explicitly hot. Then he’d pick at her dinner. When, exasperated, she asked him why he didn’t order milder food he’d take offence, walk out and leave her with the bill.

  No, dating was old news and Delta was more concerned with the fine print, the smalltype that read: Lady, you need to get laid.

  Sometimes, Delta’s superstitions made her feel old. Drop a knife – or was it a fork? – and, lo and behold, a man will walk into your life. Of course, the utensil had to be dropped by accident and preferably on a hard surface such as concrete or, in a pinch, linoleum.

  Just thinking the words ‘hard surface’ drew her breath up short.

  The morning of the day she decided to treat herself to a casual encounter, she had dropped a knife in the kitchen. An auspicious sign.

  She knew her friends and colleagues would disapprove of answering ‘Just Sex’ ads on a casual dating web site, but that channel seemed safer than going to a bar. She would meet the guys for coffee first then, if chemistry ensued, the strangers in lust could go from there.

  But there was never any lust. The guys didn’t look like their pictures, or maybe they did but the flesh-and-blood versions gave off creepy vibes better left at the door.

  She was about to give up when a handsome black-haired lad took a seat next to her at a café downtown, far enough away from Crane’s Crumpets to set up an anonymous assignation.

  ‘You look exactly like your picture!’ Delta exclaimed, not wanting to add, ‘Only younger.’

  Her date’s name was Conor and he was carrying a pile of books with him.

  ‘Reading material in case you get bored?’

  Conor laughed. ‘Just got out of class. I’m in grad school.’

  A student. Delta thought: I’m going to fuck a student. She suddenly thought of Mary Kay Letourneau, the teacher who made the headlines because she had a sexual relationship with a thirteen-year-old pupil, but that was ridiculous; Conor said he was twenty-six.

  ‘You are twenty-six, aren’t you?’

  The young man gave her a reassuring smile. ‘That I am. And you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life.’

  Delta blushed to the roots of her natural (albeit slightly encouraged) blonde hair. She had fretted over what to wear for this meeting. Too mature for a Betsey Johnson dress but determined to stave off muumuus for the dotage days, Delta May chose a nearly diaphanous silk blouse and form-fitting grey skirt.

  Her voice was husky from the mountains of cigarettes she smoked in her first youth when many females of her generation believed the only way to a svelte figure was through a carton of Marlboro Lights. She hoped she sounded to him like a sultry cabaret singer and not a prison matron.

  They talked until it was time to order refills. Talked circles round the reason why they were really there until Conor flattened his palm under the hem of the horny blonde’s skirt.

  She could have jumped him right there. His fingers moved incrementally towards her crotch just for a tease of sensation and then his hands were gone and his fingers steepling over his ceramic mug.

  The young know when they’re in control but, if an eager fellow wants to get some action, he knows when to stop teasing and get serious.

  ‘Delta,’ he said, and just the way he murmured her name was like being given a chance to lick frosting from a spoon.

  He leaned close enough so she could feel the intensity of him, the weight of his desire hammered with every breath. ‘How badly do you want to go down on me right now?’

  From another man this question would have been cause for alarm. She looked at him. He had a face she would summon in a dream. His hair thick and black and skin pale from the great indoors. She was conscious of an unremitting hunger and wanted only to sup on this perfect paradigm of maleness.

  As if from a great distance, she heard herself say, ‘I wouldn’t mind.’

  They hailed a cab to Conor’s ap
artment on Capitol Hill. Even on the way to getting his manhood sucked to oblivion, the handsome Irish lad expounded on the specialness of his brick building dating from the 1920s, the apartments soundproofed with double interior walls, hint, hint.

  ‘You planning on playing a trumpet while I go down on you?’

  ‘No, just, you know, in case we want to move on to other things.’

  Delta arched her brow and smiled; she hoped she wouldn’t have to remind him this was a one-time-only thing.

  Conor went to the kitchen to search the cupboards for something cordial to offer his guest but she stopped him in his tracks.

  ‘I don’t need anything to drink,’ she said. ‘I just need you.’

  She unzipped his tweeds and caressed his cock with her hands.

  ‘I hope this doesn’t interfere with your homework,’ she couldn’t resist saying as she kicked off her skirt and led him to the nearest horizontal surface.

  She straddled him and kissed his entire face, lingering at his sweet sensual lips. She kissed his neck and collarbone, bussed him all the way down his chest until she was a pillow covering his groin.

  She felt weightless and ageless at once. She was a vamp and a co-ed, a vulpine vixen masquerading as the girl next door.

  Delta let her tongue tickle the glabrous head of his cock before setting it loose like a pinwheel, her gloss aswirl, constantly in motion while her lips paid homage with tender care. It was as if her tongue was gloating, finally able to strut its stuff after a dearth of appreciation.

  And she could tell her lover was appreciating such lavish attention by the way he ran his elegant fingers over her scalp, pausing to caress her temples even as she inhaled with the fullest measure of deep throat.

  His cock throbbed and bobbed with the urgency Delta brought to her palate and when he came on her chest it was with a thunderous clap of glee.

  He was so handsome, so inordinately good-looking that she wanted to run from this beacon of hope, lest she get caught up in something too fragile and beautiful to hold.