mature stories & pics xxx

“I’ll be back in about two hours, honey.”

“Ok sweetheart, but please be careful.”

“I will, promise. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

As I walk out of our front door, heading towards the car, I couldn’t help a smile crossing my lips and licking them with all that is to come. The cold, winter air kisses the wetness of my soft, pink lips. Though, the cold didn’t phase my many thoughts. My husband’s face mixes with another, as I slide behind the wheel, carefully beginning my journey to the airport. The evening sky is fading with dark, clouds moving over the sun as it glistens over the white snow. My eyes keep to the road, as my smile grows deeper remembering His voice in my head. A shiver of excitement draws me from my deep thoughts.
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I had known Susan for over fifteen years, but we had always worked in the same office until about five years ago. I never treated her with anything but respect for her professionalism and I was the only guy in the office that didn’t give it the old college try at least once. I know that by today’s standards, it might seem silly, but I just don’t hit on the women I work around. That just lends itself to gossip and fighting.

That, however, didn’t stop me from watching her VERY closely whenever I got the chance. She never wore outrageous clothes at work, but her choices were always very sexy. Susan was far from voluptuous, but she had a great figure for soft sweaters and silk shirts. Her best feature were her legs!….Susan had the best legs in the building and she was young enough to look fantastic in a short skirt.
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It was a nice clear sunny day on the Costa Blanca in Spain. There were in fact no clouds in the sky at all which was surprising for the month of October. There was a little breeze but it was quite warm, increasing to hot when the wind dropped down to still.

The old style Spanish house, or finca, stood on a slope facing south, with a panoramic view over the city and countryside, right down to the sea shimmering through the gaps in the rocky hills that bordered the coast. Silvery flashes appeared in the sky from time to time as planes approached the distant airport, reflecting the sun.
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It was time to leave again. These visits were wonderful in their joy and painful in the parting. I stood and took her small hands in mine.

“I have to be going now. Gotta catch my plane or I’ll have to stay the night.”

The little grey-haired woman used my hands to pull herself up. I saw a wicked little gleam sparkle in her eyes. She pulled my hands around her waist and shoulders, and dropped her arms around my neck. It was a tradition begun years ago.

“I dare say there could be worse things to happen. Don’t you think you could still make love to an older woman?”
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“Are you sure you know what you’re saying, Chris? I mean, this is your wife we’re talking about here!”

My friend looked me straight in the eye. He meant every word.

“Of course I know what I’m saying, Adam. She’s yours. Borrow her tonight if you like!”

Chris and I had known each other for many years. Grown up together. He’d married Kirsty only about eighteen months ago and I’d supported that decision in every way. Kirsty was a great girl. She knew how to have fun and she looked fantastic! Her long, blonde hair would usually be worn loose around her shoulders, framing a heart shaped face with pretty blue eyes. She was a little on the petite side, but her figure was lithe and athletic with boobs that gently swelled the roll-neck sweaters she liked. She almost always wore skirts - usually quite short ones! - and said that pants were for men. She is a very feminine woman. If she has a flaw at all, it would be that she is maybe too accepting, too trusting. She seems to accept her husband’s decisions as gospel and rarely argues.
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His beat up old Ford shuddered under the power of the idle; he really needed to turn it down some. The cop in the intersection hadn’t moved. At least the procession of Santas on Motorcycles had finally begun to creep by. Santas in July, stupid. Behind him, someone honked. Sighing, he cut the engine and slouched in his seat. The headlights from the motorcycles went back farther than the hill two miles down the road. Since this would obviously take a while, he considered calling the office and having his secretary delay his meeting with the Andersons.
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This is a continuing story of Julia’s Lovers (that is in the Mature section). To get the full story, one should read the original.

A Ladies Pleasant Debacle

“Hello Al, how is it hanging lover?”

“Julia, you can be such an embarrassment. What’s up sweetheart?”

“I know you are right now, however I am calling for some assistance with a small problem! Let me know when you can make it over here.”

“Are you now labeling me Mr. Small because of my tool? Regardless, when you call you know I will come. How does 5 o’clock tonight sound, I am ready willing and able!”
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The skinny old man with a droopy moustache came into the dark bedroom. Parking his walking frame, 78-year-old Albert Fish slipped between the sheets snuggled up against the wool nightdress of Maggie.

“I love you Maggie,” he wheezed.

“You stupid Casanova,” grumbled Maud Macdonald (83). “Maggie’s in the next room, but you may as well stay here now. What do you have in mind?”

“A fuck.”

“What’s that?”

Albert explained and finally Maud’s memory triggered and she realized what he was talking about. That made her excited. She’d had her last one around forty or forty-two years ago shortly before liquored-up husband Roy was killed crossing a railway track in front of a train that apparently he’d not realized was moving.
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Reading Lisa’s new e-mail, I knew that it would have to be now or never. We had been communicating for nearly a year now and for the last two months we had been discussing the possibility of meeting. We both knew what that meeting would consist of: Sex and more sex.

When Lisa had first written to me, I had the sense that she was not completely happy with her life. Slowly, over time she began to confide in me. Her husband (who had remained nameless) was terribly unfaithful, not even having the decency to lie about his affairs anymore and even having his latest girlfriend pick him up from their home. Lisa had found comfort and solace in a close friend, Jillian, who at first had offered her a shoulder to cry on and later had offered her the rest of her body as well. Lisa had told me that for a while she was confused; not since high school had she thought about sex with another woman, but it all seemed so natural - so wonderfully good to feel loved and wanted again.
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The rain beat heavily on Frank Day’s head and shoulders as he stood by the side of the road. His raincoat was of a good quality, but he could still feel the chill of the water as it dripped slowly down the back of his neck and soaked into his shirt. His left arm was extended, the tumb turned upwards in the universally accepted stance of the hitchiker as he watched with dismay as car after car swished by on the wet road, seemingly ignoring his silent pleas for a lift. Another thirty minutes passed as Frank trudged along the road, regularly glancing behind him to check for possible transportation. In the distance he could just make out a large vehicle heading in his direction. He stopped to watch. As the vehicle approached he could see that it was a large, expensive looking motor home. Frank, again extended his arm, signalling his intentions to the unseen driver. His spirits lifted considerably as he saw the vehicle slowing and pulling to the side of the road behind him.
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