On her way home from work, Amber lamented about yet another upcoming lonely weekend stuck in her apartment with her rabbit and her laptop and flipping through channels. Her divorce had become final two months earlier, and the guy she began seeing during their separation had left her for a teenybopper named Nicole.
Amber desperately wanted a man. A long-term relationship probably wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, she thought, but mostly she just wanted to fuck. If it meant being a booty call, so be it.
It's just my fucking luck I was born with the libido of a porn star.
It had been about two weeks since she'd had a real cock in her. She and her first ex, Bobby, went on a date to see if the old fire could be rekindled. But it couldn't. Instead, Bobby fucked her. He was still a great fuck, but he had never cared for Amber not being hetero. Amber loved women, too, but pussy and a strap-on were simply no substitute for a real cock in her. While the naturally dark blonde Amber thought she was still very attractive at 34, she knew she couldn't compete with the younger girls who had men of all ages drooling over them. On the upside, Amber felt she could pass for a younger woman. Plus, she had experience and also did anal, which the MILF fans loved. Most younger girls thought of their assholes as exit only.
Not Amber.
And Amber hated the MILF acronym. Originally, "mother I'd like to fuck" applied only older women over thirty who had borne children, but now it seems like it got applied to every woman over thirty whether they'd had kids or not.
Amber was adamant that she was not a MILF.
Then Amber thought about her friend Marie's suggestion about posting an ad on Craigslist. About six months ago, she'd found her new boyfriend, Tom, on the free Internet classified service and they seem to have hit it off fabulously. Amber had used Craigslist a year earlier to sell furniture and other things she didn't need or want. But a man? She thought about calling Marie and asking if she was interested in them having company, but quickly dismissed it. She'd been with Marie a few times, but Marie would never do a threesome.
Geena yeah. But not Marie. Oh, she doesn't know what she's missing.
Amber had been involved in a lot of MFF threesomes in her time. She loved them. However, MMF's were a different story entirely. She'd been in exactly one and she swore she'd never do another one. It happened several years ago when she took a brutal DP from two very hung young guys who saw her in a bikini at the pool at her old apartment complex. The guys stared at her and began yelling suggestive comments. Amber loved the attention. She walked to a secluded part of the apartment complex near the pool and seductively motioned for the young guys to follow. When she was certain no one but the guys could see her, she bent over and flashed them her hairless pussy and her asshole and told them to put up or shut up. She walked up to her apartment and they followed. The sex was incredible until the fateful moment. While riding one of the guys cowgirl, the other guy unexpectedly pulled his cock out of her mouth, got behind her, pushed her forward, and pushed into her asshole. She'd been wanting to try double penetration and didn't resist. But they got carried away and slammed her mercilessly. They came; Amber didn't. They left her bruised and feeling so stretched out that she spent a painful, sleepless night fretting that permanent damage had been done to her. But she healed completely within a week. She didn't blame the guys though. They didn't know she was hurting so much. She'd actually fucked them again, albeit separately, and they were pretty good. She didn't mention the DP debacle.
"I'm probably gonna regret this, but..." she sighed as she booted her Macbook. As soon as it was up, she opened the browser and clicked the Craigslist link in her bookmarks and clicked the "men seeking women" link. After a good half hour minutes of reading posts, no one interested her. She groaned in frustration.
Amber was about to write her own ad when she came across a four day-old one: "Shy Lonely 40's SWM Seeks Fun With Late 20's/Early 30's SWF."
Shy stated he had been divorced for three years, rarely drank, hated drugs, and wasn't a social butterfly. He didn't care for teenaged adults, said he was a little on the pudgy side, didn't play games, and wanted likewise from a woman. And he was local!
Amber clicked on the reply button and began to type:
"Hey Shy? Still lonely? SWF -- 34 -- no kids -- horny as hell -- YPGM -- NSA."
She sent the message and launched her mail application.
"Yeah, I'll bet he'll be emailing back me real soon," said Amber sarcastically. She got up, pulled out her hideaway bed, then went to the kitchen for a diet soda and quickly drained it. She went back into her living room and made sure all the drapes were closed. She stripped down, opened the drawer on her nightstand, and pulled out her trusty rabbit. She laid down on the bed and got her pussy wet and had just inserted the head of the toy in her when she heard the new mail notification alert.
"Probably just a stupid ad," she said annoyed, getting up to look. But no! It was from Shy! And he'd included a pic! Shy was a mixed bag. He was broad shouldered and had thick, wavy dark brown hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. He had a nice genuine-looking smile and he kind of had the square jaw thing going. Amber thought he should probably spend some time in the gym to tone up.
Amber sighed. She'd had better and she'd had worse.
If he hasn't gotten any in three years, he'll be horny as hell. Good for me!
She hit the reply button, wondering whether she should be direct or playful. The ad said he didn't play games and expected the same, but Amber knew most men like playfulness to some extent whether they wanted to admit it or not. Still, she decided on the direct route.
"Shy, thank you for responding so quickly! I'm including a pic. Amber."
She selected a sexy honest photo of herself in tight jeans and a tight frilly top which showcased her figure. She attached it to the email and hit send. In the interim, she pleased herself with the rabbit and came. Then the new mail alert sounded again:
"Amber. Thank you for responding. You're very lovely! Can we meet tonight? Say the Breiel McDonald's at nine? Greg."
Amber smiled.
Greg's probably trying to make me feel safe, she thought. Well, it's public and on a major road. That late on a Friday, it'll be mostly kids on dates. And cops are always patrolling the area.
She looked at the clock. 8:11. Enough time for a quick shower.
Amber hit reply and typed her acceptance and clicked send.
She showered and dressed quickly. Tight jeans and a slightly tight light blue cotton button down shirt which revealed her taut belly. She was not lanky or sculpted; she had just enough baby fat to make her midriff look smooth. She chose not to wear a bra. She was proud of her naturally firm breasts and only wore a bra at work and on select occasion. The drive to McDonald's took less than fifteen minutes. At about nine, she walked in and saw Greg sitting at a window seat. She took a nervous deep breath and walked over. He stood up.
"Amber? Hello. Thank you for coming," he said standing up and extending a big hand. "I'm Greg." His voice was slightly gravelly, but he spoke softly.
"Amber," she said, accepting it.
"A pleasure," he said.
"May I get you something?" he asked nervously, gesturing for her to sit.
"No, thank you," said Amber. She noticed that he was nervous, but was doing a fairly good job of hiding it. After several minutes of chitchat, Amber decided she liked Greg's personality. He was genuine, funny and very polite.
"Listen, Greg," she said. "I don't think we need to get caught up in pretense. You and I both know what this is about."
He nodded. "It's been a while for me. A couple of years. I was afraid you'd think I was some sort of creep."
"I'm a pretty good judge of character, Greg," said Amber reassuringly. "So let's go. My place. I'm driving the silver Nissan. Follow me."
When they were outside, Amber asked: "Oh, do you have condoms?"
"Actually, no," he said, shaking his head.
"There's a Walgreens up the road," she said. "We'll split the cost, okay?"
Greg nodded.
They went inside the Walgreens and quickly made their purchase. The clerk, a woman in her sixties, didn't bat an eye. The drive to Amber's Village Drive apartment was short; they missed every single red light.
