I arrived at Mrs. Morgan's house angry and ready to fuck her lights out. She was no doubt the reason why I'd been fired from my job, and I was going to take my time fucking her to pay for my loss. This was going to be a master class in fucking an old lady with my eleven inch cock.
After getting canned from the local television station for taking too many liberties with the female guests, and after being embarrassed by having my boss's husband jerk me off in front of a gathering of the town's notable ladies, I was in a mood for revenge.
Mrs. Morgan gave me her card and asked me to call her before I left town, and that's just what I did. Even if she wasn't the one responsible for me getting fired, I wanted to make her pay for it.
This tall, lithe and fit 50-something had become my dream, especially when she lifted up her skirt to show me her panties and almost pulled them down. She stopped short and left me drained of all my cum and the laughing stock of my boss, her husband and their guests.
When I cleaned out my desk, Penny was in the office but acted like nothing had happened. Her brute of a husband, Bubba, passed me in the hall but didn't say anything. Penny and Bubba had their fun, and I was hung out to dry.
All this was swimming in my mind as I rang the doorbell at Mrs. Morgan's fancy house.
I assumed she gave me her phone number just so she could get fucked by my big cock, and that thought was what kept me sane after my firing party where everyone else had such a good time. Now would be my time to dip into a high quality pussy and to entertain an MILF who deserved to be screwed by large cocked men.
Mrs. Morgan answered the doorbell. "Hi Billy, won't you come in? I see your car is packed."
"Yep, it sure is. Can't work in this town any more."
"Oh, don't worry, a man like you will surely find work somewhere else where he doesn't have a reputation as a pervert."
Her words just added to my hatred of these people. Someone was gonna pay, and it was gonna be Mrs. Morgan in just a few minutes from now.
It had been a week since the infamous firing party at Penny's house, and I hadn't begun to get over what happened to me. For the first few days afterward, my cock was sore and hurt when I touched it. Bubba had mangled by mini fire hose and made it do things I never knew possible.
The situation had made me so turned on, so angry, so excited, so scared – all at the same time – that even my forced ejaculation didn't bring an end to my condition. A day later, my dick was still half erect, painfully swollen, and continued to reflexively pulse and emit more and more cum. It was like somebody busted the control valve and I couldn't turn it off. Or maybe I was experiencing what women feel who have multiple orgasms. The buzz didn't stop for days.
And now here was the lovely and stately Mrs. Morgan, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek and inviting me into her home to fuck her.
At least, that was what I thought she had in mind. It had sure been on my mind for a long time.
She was once again dressed smartly in a form fitting black skirt, white blouse with a knotted bow at the neck, and a black and white fleck jacket that matched her salt and pepper hair color.
I couldn't believe she would call me a pervert and kiss me at the same time. Didn't she know what I was there to do to her? Wasn't she just a little bit frightened of me after all that had happened?
I should have thought more about why she wasn't afraid about having me there, shouldn't I?
It was a nice day, and she led me through the ground floor and to the patio by her swimming pool. The back yard was private and secluded. Perfect, I thought for a poolside screwing while her hubby was away.
"I gave the maid the day off," she told me, "The better to let us get down to the business we need to do together."
"Yeah, you're gonna get the business," I thought to myself. "You're gonna get the business end of an angry eleven inch flesh pole that will fill your tank with high test spew, you bitch." But I held my peace and just smiled at her and nodded.
"Would you excuse me," she asked, "while I go get into my bathing suit? I'll be right back, honey."
I watched her from behind as her tall slender frame with shapely calves and pageboy haircut walked back into the house. If she wants to model in her bathing suit for a while, I'm OK with that, I thought. No need to rush things too much.
Hardly two minutes passed and Mrs. Morgan was back on the patio deck, still in heels but clad only in a sleek one piece black bathing suit, cut high on the thighs. Wow, for a woman in her 50s, she had a killer body. There were those tits I'd fondled back at the studio, standard size equipment for a woman her build. Not to large, not too small.
My attention was more focused on the slight cameltoe crease between her legs, covered barely by her bathing suit. No tell-tale wisps of pussy hair were visible around the edges to give away her natural coloring, but I hoped she hadn't shaved herself because I like a natural but tended look when I see someone's wife's pussy.
"That's better," she said, "Do you like my suit?"
"You bet," I told her, "Can't you tell?"
