Homecoming 117

Homecoming

"Fuck! Mmm yeah, harder! You like to fuck! You like to fuck, don't you?!"

Margaret looked up at her thrusting partner's face with savage glee, grimacing in ecstasy each time the young man's cock slammed home into her pussy. He moved with the raw, untempered skill of a young cocksman, making up for lack of experience with enthusiasm.

"Mmmm! Ffffuck you're wet!" Thomas grunted as he shifted Margaret's legs higher, and she wrapped them around his waist. He enjoyed watching the way her body shook and jiggled as he pushed into her. Her stretch-marked belly skin flapping up and down, her gently sagging tits bouncing back and forth.

Mingled with the duet of voices was the rhythmic squeak of the mattress and the slam! Slam! Slam! Of the headboard against the wall. The older woman's head rolled back into her pillow. Her face, framed by a long tangle of dark curls, contorted and her eyes closed. "Mmm keep going! Mmm So close...so close...nnn!"

Her toes curled inwards towards Thomas's back, and she thrust up and into him, impaling herself on his cock. "Ah! Oh!" Thomas felt a tremendous rush of warmth engulfing his shaft, and a tightening squeeze around it. His stomach fluttered. With less than a second to spare, he pulled back, slipping out of her dripping-wet opening, the tip of his member hitting her sweet spot as he did, eliciting a final shudder.

He laid his swollen, ripe testes against the warmth of her soaked slit, the engorged tip of his penis jutting out over the mound. Instantly a fount of hot, white cum sprayed out of him and over her. She cooed and gasped as the hot liquid hit her, spreading over her midriff, and dripping down into her neat patch of dark pubes. "Mmm yeah cum for me, baby! Sweet baby, cum for me!"

Thomas panted above her, taking in the spectacle of his shriveling manhood and her heaving chest. He shook, watching her watch him. Her legs slackened their grip around his middle and he slid out from her thigh and lowered himself to the mattress. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and there was only the sound of heavy breathing and an atmosphere of astonishment.

She spoke first. "Good pull-out game."

"You didn't make it easy."

Margaret smiled and ran her fingers through the young lover's hair. "Flattering an old chick."

"Seriously, that was the best sex I've ever had," Thomas said earnestly.

Margaret, who had forty trips around the sun under her belt, couldn't go quite that far, but close. It had been certainly the best fuck she'd had in years. At least since she was, well, this kid's age. "Been too long since I had a hot young stud between my legs."

Thomas felt his cheeks start to burn. Margaret giggled. "Did I just make you blush? Is this hot young man blushing? How old are you anyway? Twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Nineteen."

She rolled her eyes and laughed in disbelief. "Dear god! Really, why me? What made you want to fuck a forty-year-old instead of some college cutie your age?"

Thomas considered this as he looked her over. Unshaven, fluff around the middle, sag in the breasts. He loved it. "I dunno, I've always liked older women." This was true, though not the full story. He had indeed always had a thing for more mature women. Due in part to a lack of maternal figures in his formative years, raised as he was, by two amazing dads. The rest of it though was something else.

There was something about this woman that was undefinable. As soon as he had seen her in the coffee shop, sipping cold brew, reading her book, he felt a yearning for her that was almost painful. It had felt deeper than desire. More akin to the insatiable curiosity and titillation he had felt as a tween catching a glimpse of cleavage. A confusing, wonderful, erotic nostalgia. "I just liked what I saw."

Now it was Margaret feeling roses bloom in her cheeks. She too had felt a click at the sight of this adorable young man. She liked him and she liked the way he looked at her. It made her feel like she did when she was nineteen. Plus, those eyes. She looked at them and she could have sworn she had seen them before.

And she liked this part too. Thomas looked good there, in her arms as she felt his cum drying on her belly, warm and satiated. She desperately wanted him to lean over and take her ruby-red nipple into his mouth.

"Thanks for remembering to pull out."

"Sure thing, sorry about the mess."

"Fuck no, I love it. Don't panic, by the way, I'm clean and I'm on the pill. I just don't mess with being came in."

Margaret knew all too well the potency of that hot, west, salty mess. When she was twenty-one, she'd found herself a pregnant college student by a married professor. She had given birth to a healthy baby boy who she at once put up for adoption. She chose not to stay involved. All she knew was he'd been taken in by a loving gay couple. That was good. She didn't need to know more. She did not once regret the choice. She was not maternal. Ever since then, when she had sex without a condom, birth control or not, she insisted that the seed was spilled on her breast, belly, or mouth.

Thomas rested his head on the pillow of her chest. Margaret ran her fingers through his hair.

"This is nice."

"Mmhmm."

After a while, Thomas did indeed wrap his mouth around her ruby-red nipple and it was exquisite. They fucked three more times that afternoon into the night. Every time they did, it felt like coming home.