Last time I wrote about me erotic experiences, I mentioned my upcoming trip to Boston and its great university, Harvard. Well, I'm here in my Airbnb apartment just vibrating with excitement about the erotic adventures I'll be having later. Tonight, I'm going to a bar called the 'Pig and Blue Bull' close to the campus. Their website picture showed a young college crowd having fun. I can't wait to be in the middle of all those horny young men.
If you haven't read my previous post, let me bring you up-to-date. I'm a happily married woman. My friends would call me a conservative, executive lady. They'd never believe the erotic adventures I've been having over the last year. I dread if they ever find but I can't stop. My addiction is picking up young college male students for sex when I travel out of town for business. It's not kinky sex, thank God, but it's something I feel shame around after every erotic episode.
Let me describe myself. I'm a forty-year-old woman. All my life, people have said I was beautiful. Men hit on me often; good looking men of the alpha type. I always turn them down, at least in my home city. There, I'm happily married with two great kids, a boy twelve and a girl ten. On the road, I'm a hot babe looking for a hook up. My husband is a handsome, great guy. Our sex life it about as good as it can be for two people married fifteen years. He is not the reason I have this obsession to bed younger men, even boyish but legal ones. It's just in my nature. Our sex lives have improved immensely since I started bedding horny young guys.
Sorry, back to my description. They say I don't look my age. I have a daily routine of using the finest beauty creams, not just for my face but all over. My skin is blemish free. My naturally blonde hair used to be short in an executive woman's style but now I've let it grow down to my shoulders. That's how I used to wear it in my university days. Keeping fit with yoga and jogging has my figure as slim as when I was in my twenties. My breasts are small, a 34B cup. That has help keep them perky, but I have noticed just a hint of a droop that I'm sure nobody else would notice. I didn't breastfeed my children, so my breasts would stay nice. My mother insisted that formula milk was better for a baby, anyway.
My height is five feet ten, tall for a woman.
My addiction started about a year ago. I was approaching the dreaded age number, forty. It struck me that was middle age, no denying it. I couldn't just grow old gracefully. The fight was on.
Enough about history, I've been so looking forward to tonight's adventure. It's been almost a month since my last sex night in Philadelphia with a freshman attending the Wharton School of Business. When I got back from that trip, my husband and I had hot sex for a couple of weeks. He hasn't said anything but I'm starting to think he's suspecting something. I need another lusty, fuck session. Since I booked my flight a week ago, I've been having horny fantasies flashing throughout my days.
I've brought my short plaid, pleated skirt and tight white tank top again. It's the kind with string top, bare shouldered with some cleavage showing. I like the push-up bras that girls favor nowadays. It makes me feel young and sexy to have the tops of my breasts pushing up over the cups. That's been the only outfit I've worn on my sex hunting trips. It's worked so well, why change it? Sometimes, when I'm alone at home, I put on the skirt and use my trusty vibrator to bring me to a great orgasm.
I do wear different panties every time. Sorry, that's a lie. Once, I went panty-less just for the hell of it. What I found is that when a young guy sees a bare pussy, they just get single-minded wanting to get their male equipment buried in there. They are suddenly blind to everything around them and much less fun. As soon as I flashed the young man, he immediately wanted to leave the bar we were at and head to my place. He couldn't keep his hands off my crotch in the Uber and even tried to bend me over and fuck me in the elevator up to the room. His performance was short and not sweet when we finally got to the bed. I like some foreplay. After that experience with young male lust, I decided to always wear panties and not show them off too soon.
Tonight, I have on a Mustang-red thong with a flowery lace waistband and see-through mesh crotch. It is so hot. Any guy that sees them will get a testosterone surge. I love it when these young studs stare down at my panties with lust in their eyes and peel them down as I lift my ass off the bed to help them. Just thinking about that just gave my pussy a sweet little throb.
At the university neighborhood bar.
The bar is noisy with Friday revelers. It appears the men's hockey team beat rival Penn State and everyone is celebrating. There must be a hundred students in here. The energy is incredible. The hockey players and their girlfriends are at a twenty-foot, long table. Every ten minutes or so, they break into the school song and stand and give a big beer toast before guzzling it down. What a party.
I'm here with a beer in my hand, scouting the room for a good candidate for a roll in the hay. The brawny hockey athletes are all taken by cute coeds. That's not my preference anyway. Then I spot him. He's with the team but not an athletic type, smaller but fit body with a sweet smile. He takes a sip of beer very carefully unlike the other guys who are racing towards a bad hangover. He is well-groomed and conservatively dressed in slacks with a golf T-shirt. When the others break into a roaring laugh he breaks into a shy, sweet smile. I could just eat him up, a nice boy-next-door type that needs me to show him the lusty side of life.
Now, how do I meet him? Can't wait too long. Some unworthy wench might get to him first. Oh good, he's heading to the washroom. I'll talk to him when he heads back to the group. I set up near the end of the bar where he'll pass.
Here he comes. I give him a big smile and say, "Hi. My name's Kate. I saw you sitting with the team. Are you a hockey player?" We are leaning our heads in to hear over the loud noise of the bar.
He looks down shyly and says, "No, I'm just the assistant manager."
"Good for you. That's an important job. What a great win tonight. Way to go."
"Thanks."
I can see I'm going to have to be very straightforward here. This young man is no Romeo.
"Say, I'm new on campus. Could we hang out together? I'm out to meet new friends."
He breaks into a big smile, "Sure. Sure, that would be great."
I clap my hands in glee. "Super. Hey what's your name, handsome?"
He blushes at that and says, "I'm Alister but folks call me Al."
I grab his hand, "Well Al, let's stick together tonight." I pull him over to the bar and we order some beer.
I fear I'm coming on too strong, but this student is very shy and needs some handling. I can't wait to lay on my back and spread my legs and guide him to my pussy. My experience with young men like Al is that when they are balls deep in pussy, they get a much manlier attitude.
I lift my beer glass as a toast and we clink glasses and I shout over the noise in the room, "Here's to being young and foolish at the great campus of Harvard.
He smiles and nods, "Young and foolish. Right on." We take a big swallow and he gets serious. "What's your major?
"Alister, Alister, let's not worry about school tonight. I just finished my mid-terms.
I want to just have some fun. Is that okay?"
"Sure, that's chill." I can see his brain is starting to click as to what's happening here. He's a bit slow on the girl-boy stuff but not clueless.
