Young & Old | Cock Tease | Exhibitionist
A College Girl & An Old Man Enter a Pub Full of Old Cocks…
The power of young titties!
I write erotica novels & short stories. I also publish sex confessions as a spermivore, spermaholic, and teen slut. Yes, teen slut! And I’m proud of it! Sex is good, and girls who love sex shouldn’t have to hide and pretend to be “pure.” Sex is pure! And naked skin is natural.
Amber wiped the sweat from her brow as she tied her apron, the end of her shift at the coffee shop approaching. Her skin tingled with excitement, her thoughts consumed by her carnal desire to pleasure old men. As the door opened and George stepped in, Amber’s heart raced. George, a man in his late 60s, always exuded confidence and authority, making her crave him.
“Hey there, George,” Amber greeted him with a sultry smile, hand on her hip. She felt the heat rise within her, knowing he could see her flushed cheeks and shining eyes. George glanced around before settling into one of the stools at the counter.
“Busy day, Amber?” George inquired, raising an eyebrow. He watched as her slender fingers wrapped around the coffee mug, filling it with hot liquid. The sight made her wonder if he was thinking about those same fingers caressing his cock.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she replied with a sigh. Amber locked eyes with him, her gaze filled with a mixture of defiance and submission. She leaned forward slightly, giving him a better view of her cleavage, her nipples hardening beneath her shirt. “I’m ready for something different.”
George smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. His piercing gaze lingered on her body, which sent shivers down her spine. “I think I might know just the thing,” he said cryptically, setting down his cup.
“Really?” Amber’s curiosity was piqued, her mind racing with possibilities. She bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. “What is it?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” George teased, smirking at her flushed face. He stood up and tossed a few bills onto the counter. “But for now, we should get going.”
“Alright, lead the way,” Amber eagerly agreed, untangling herself from her apron and tossing it aside. Her body thrummed with anticipation, aching to experience the raw desires she was convinced George could help fulfill.
Amber’s heart raced as she followed George out of the coffee shop, her mind tangled in a turbulent world of forbidden sex acts that old men could commit on her tender college girl’s body. He hadn’t asked her if she wanted to leave with him — he had commanded it, and in her head, Amber was nothing but obedient to his every wish. “Damn!” she thought, her face burning and her body yearning for him to take possession of her. She couldn’t wait to explore the depths of her kinks and desires, especially with someone as experienced as George by her side.
As George led Amber down the street, her mind raced with curiosity and anticipation. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the pavement. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through her veins.
George glanced back at her and raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. “You know, I have this group of friends. Older guys like me. We get together to share stories, have a few drinks, and let loose.”
Amber’s eyes widened, intrigued by the prospect of satisfying her cravings with a group of experienced men. She licked her lips, her imagination running wild with images of their wrinkled hands exploring her young body, their cocks twitching in her mouth.
“Are there any women in this group?” Amber asked, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance despite her growing arousal.
“Actually, no,” George replied, chuckling. He scratched his chin, studying her face. “But I’ve got a feeling you’d fit right in. Although you’d be the one hen walking in a wolf house. They’re not exactly gentle.”
A tingling sensation raced up Amber’s spine as she contemplated the words that had just been uttered. A flood of excitement surged through her veins, sparking a fire in her belly, and the thought of being the object of desire for a group of powerful older men sent torrents of pleasure coursing through her body. Could George see in her face all of the naughty fantasies she entertained about worshipping old cocks and being completely dominated by them? But before she could process these thoughts, an electrifying thrill pulsed through her at the idea of meeting a gang of experienced old cocks.
“Take me with you,” Amber blurted out, her voice quivering with determination. She could feel her nipples hardening beneath her shirt, aching to be touched, pinched, and sucked by those hungry mouths.
“Are you sure about that?” George asked, his eyes narrowing. He stopped in front of a dimly lit pub, its windows fogged with condensation.
“More than anything,” Amber whispered, her palm slick with sweat as she reached for the door handle. She hoped that once she stepped inside, her life would take a wild, unpredictable turn — and she couldn’t wait to dive headfirst into the unknown.
Amber’s steps into the pub sent a wave of anxiety through her body as she inhaled the pungent smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke. The ancient floorboards groaned with each step she took as if warding her away from this man cave. Her heart raced with anticipation and fear as she followed George further in. This was no ordinary gathering but a den of old men with not even a hint of female flesh to be seen. Amber trembled with a mix of excitement and nerves as her presence in that place became too real to ignore.
The pub was filled with the raucous laughter of older men, their voices rough and deep like growling bears. They huddled around tables, their gnarled hands clutching pint glasses, eyes flickering to Amber’s youthful form as she passed by. She felt their gazes roaming over her, hungry wolves ready to devour her tender flesh.
“Over there,” George said, nodding towards a table in the corner. Seated at the table were a group of elderly gentlemen, their faces lined with age and experience. Among them, two men stood out — Harold Miller, a frail man in his early 70s, his thinning white hair framing a gentle smile, and Vincent Baker, a stocky man in his late 70s with a shiny bald head and a mischievous grin.
“Remember, this is a wolf house,” George whispered in Amber’s ear before leading her toward the table.
“Ah, George, there you are!” Harold exclaimed, his voice warm and welcoming. His eyes drifted to Amber, and he raised an eyebrow quizzically. “And who might this lovely thing be?”
“Guys, meet Amber,” George said, placing a hand on Amber’s shoulder as if presenting her to the group. “She’s a friend from work and wanted to join us tonight.”
As the men’s eyes hungrily drank in her youthful appearance, Amber felt their raw desires for her young female body. The contrast between her supple skin and their wrinkled, weathered faces only intensified their lustful gazes. Sensing their interest, Amber coyly brushed a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, exposing the delicate curve of her neck.
“Amber, huh?” Vincent said, his eyes narrowing as he examined her. “Well, isn’t she a pretty little thing? I bet those young lads at work can’t keep their hands off you.”
“Actually,” Amber replied with a flirtatious smile, “I prefer the company of older men. They know how to treat a woman right.”
Her words were met with approving grunts and chuckles from the group. The men shifted in their seats, adjusting their trousers as they imagined all the ways they could use her supple flesh.
“Come now, gentlemen,” Harold interjected, sensing the growing tension. “Let’s not make our guest uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable?” Amber laughed, leaning forward and giving the men a generous view of her cleavage. “I’m more than comfortable, Harold. In fact, I feel right at home among you wolves.”
The men exchanged glances, their bestial hunger for her young body barely contained. As Amber basked in their attention, she knew that each passing moment brought her closer to her ultimate goal — to become part of their group and worship their godly cocks with complete submission.
“Alright then,” George said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this night started, shall we?”
As the evening progressed, Amber reveled in the dynamic between her and the leering old men. Their lustful gazes sent shivers from the tip of her hair to the tip of her toes, fueling her own perverse desires. She was ready to do whatever it took to gain their approval and satisfy their ravenous appetites.
Amber’s heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of discomfort and excitement coursing through her veins as the old men’s lustful eyes roamed over her young female body. Their gazes were like invisible hands. Her thoughts raced; she knew what she was doing, what she wanted from these men, but the intensity of their stares was more overwhelming than she had anticipated.
“Damn, it’s hot in here,” Amber said, feigning nonchalance as she fanned herself with her hand. The men nodded in agreement, eyes never leaving her exposed skin. She could sense their raw, animalistic desires, and it thrilled her.
“Mind if I take off my rain jacket?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. The men exchanged grins, barely able to contain their enthusiasm. As she slid the jacket off her shoulders, she felt a surge of power, knowing that such a simple act held so much sway over them.
Her bare arms now on display, Amber loosened another button of her blouse, revealing just a bit more cleavage to stoke the fires of their imaginations. The men shifted in their seats, struggling to maintain their composure.
“Jesus, Amber,” Vincent breathed, his eyes fixated on her heaving chest. “You’re driving us wild.”
“Good,” she thought, a wicked smile playing at the corners of her lips. “That’s exactly what I want.” It was all part of her plan — to tease them, to make them hunger for her so desperately that they would accept her into their group without hesitation, and their old cocks would become hers.
As the night wore on, Amber became bolder in her pursuit of the old men’s attention. She leaned over the table, giving them a clear view of her ample breasts straining against the fabric of her blouse. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, allowing them glimpses of the smooth, tanned skin beneath her skirt.
With each subtle reveal, she could feel the men’s excitement mounting. Their breathing grew heavier; their eyes glazed over with lust. They were putty in her hands, and she reveled in the power she held over them.
“Seems like you boys could use a little… cooling off,” Amber cooed, standing up and pulling her blouse from her skirt, letting it hang loose around her hips. The men stared, transfixed, as she slowly unbuttoned one more button, letting her blouse go down on one side to expose a bare shoulder.
“Careful, Amber,” Harold warned, his voice strained with desire. “You might just give these old dogs a heart attack.”
She smirked, knowing full well the effect she was having on them. “Oh, I think you can handle it,” she replied confidently, her eyes never leaving his.
As the evening progressed, Amber could feel the atmosphere in the pub grow more charged. Men’s eyes wandered over her body with increasing boldness, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they began to express their desires more openly.
“Hey, have you heard this one?” asked Vincent, a twinkle in his eye. “Why did the blonde bring a ladder to the bar? She heard that drinks were on the house!”
The other men laughed heartily, and Amber joined in, even though the joke was at her expense. She wanted them to see her as one of them, unafraid of a little crude humor.
“Alright, I’ve got one for you,” said Harold, leaning back in his chair. “What do you call a group of blondes standing ear-to-ear? A wind tunnel!”
Again, the men erupted in laughter, and Amber chuckled along with them, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She could tell that they appreciated her willingness to take a joke, and she decided to push the envelope.
“Okay, my turn,” Amber declared, meeting the men’s gazes boldly. “What is the difference between a smart blonde and bigfoot? Bigfoot has been sighted!”
The old men roared with laughter, slapping their thighs and wiping tears from their eyes. Amber felt a surge of pride at her ability to hold her own in their crude banter.
“Here’s another one for you,” she continued, riding the wave of their approval. “What’s the difference between a blonde and a mosquito? A mosquito stops sucking when you slap it!”
“Damn, Amber!” George exclaimed, grinning broadly. “You’ve got some guts, making jokes like that about yourself.”
“Hey, if you guys can dish it out, I can take it,” Amber replied with a smirk. “Besides, it’s all in good fun, right?”
“Absolutely,” Harold agreed, raising his glass to her. “To Amber, the feistiest blonde we’ve ever had the pleasure of corrupting!”
The men cheered and clinked their glasses together, and Amber felt a thrill run through her at the thought of having won their admiration. She knew that she was one step closer to achieving her goal: becoming a part of their group and, ultimately, fulfilling her deepest desire to worship their old cocks.
Feeling emboldened by the men’s laughter, Amber decided to keep on pushing the envelope a little further. “Here’s one for you guys,” she said, leaning forward and putting her hands on her chest. “What do young boobs and toys have in common? They were both originally made for kids, but daddies end up playing with them!”
The men roared with laughter once more, and Amber felt her confidence growing. She could see their hungry eyes scanning her body, lingering on her pert breasts, barely concealed beneath her provocatively unbuttoned blouse.
“Alright, here’s another one,” Amber continued, smirking as she deliberately played with the neckline of her shirt. “Why don’t men ever pay attention to anything but boobs? Because that’s where the nipples are, and we all know how much men suck!”
Feeling emboldened, she continued, “Y’know, I’ve always heard that young tits age like fine wine. But I think they’re more like a good beer — best enjoyed ice cold and wet.”
Her laughter was infectious, drawing in the entire group.
“Ha! You know what they say about young boobs?” Amber smirked, her eyes scanning the leathery faces of the old men around her. “They’re like convertible cars — fun to ride but not very practical!”
Amber leaned in, her eyes dancing mischievously as she teased them. “You know what else they say about young titties? They’re like a new car — everyone wants to take ’em for a spin.”
“Damn! You’re unstoppable,” one man laughed.
“Hey, you know what else they say about young boobs?” Amber said with a smirk. “They’re like fresh bread — best when squeezed.”
She smirked, feeling her body tingle with excitement. “So, how about it, boys? Tired of just talking about young boobs? Want to see mine?”
The men exchanged glances, some grinning shamelessly while others feigned indifference. Amber could sense some of the men’s eagerness, and it only fueled her own desire to tease them even more. She arched an eyebrow, daring them to accept her offer.
“Enough talk; let the show begin!” Amber decided, her fingers deftly undoing the buttons of her blouse. With a wicked grin, she peeled open her shirt, revealing her flawless breasts to the eager eyes of the men around her. Each one was round and full, capped with small, perky nipples that seemed to beg for attention.
“Fuck me,” one man muttered under his breath, unable to tear his gaze away from her tantalizing flesh. Others stared just as intently, their mouths hanging open in a mixture of awe and lust.
Amber reveled in their reactions, her body on display like a feast for their famished eyes. She could feel their desire like a tangible force, wrapping around her like a heavy blanket of heat.
“Jesus Christ, those tits are better than my wife’s when she was younger!” another man exclaimed, laughing as he clapped his friend on the back.
“Never thought I’d see the day when I’d be staring at a real pair of 18-year-old titties,” Vincent mused, his voice thick with admiration and want.
But not all were so enthralled by the sight before them. Franklin, who had been silent up until now, cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His brow furrowed as he looked at Amber, his thoughts clearly conflicted.
“Guys, come on,” he grumbled, glancing around the table. “I’ve got two granddaughters younger than this girl. They play soccer… they’re just kids. This doesn’t feel right to me.”
His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the room. Some of the men glanced at each other uneasily, while others frowned at Franklin’s outburst.
“Franklin, we’re just looking,” one man reassured him. “No harm in that, right?”
“Besides,” another added, his voice low and gravelly, “she’s the one who offered. We didn’t force her to do anything.”
Amber, feeling the weight of Franklin’s concern, bit her lip and looked at him directly. The intensity in his eyes was undeniable, but so too was the spark of desire that seemed to flicker beneath the surface. She knew he wanted her just as much as the others did, but his conscience was holding him back.
“Franklin,” she murmured softly, drawing his gaze back to her exposed breasts. “It’s just a bit of fun. Don’t look at me, the daughter. Look at the tits!”
As the men continued to argue and reassure Franklin, Amber held her ground, her young breasts on display like a living testament to their most primal desires. And though Franklin’s objections weighed heavily on her mind, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the sight of his lingering gaze, drawn to her flesh like a moth to the flame.
Eventually, Franklin’s resistance seemed to crumble as his eyes more freely roamed over Amber’s exposed young boobs. His breath hitched, and he shifted in his seat, trying to hide the growing bulge in his pants. Despite his moral objections, lustful thoughts clouded his mind.
“Fine,” he muttered, defeated. “Keep your blouse open if you must.”
“Aw, come on, Franklin,” Vincent chimed in, captivated by the sight before him. He couldn’t stop talking about Amber’s age as if it was some sort of miracle. “Look at those perfect tits, man. Those are genuine 18-year-old boobs! You only see those in porn videos.”
Amber smirked, reveling in the attention she was receiving. Her nipples hardened under the men’s gazes, and she felt a familiar heat rising between her thighs.
“Tell me, Vincent,” she said, teasingly running her fingers along the curve of her breast. “How do my real-life 18-year-old tits compare to the ones you’ve seen online?”
Vincent’s eyes widened, and he licked his lips as he admired her youthful body. “I’ll tell you what, Amber, they’re even better.” His voice shook with excitement. “There’s nothing like seeing them up close and personal.”
“Damn right,” another man agreed, raising his beer glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to young flesh and all its glory!”
The room erupted into laughter, and even Franklin couldn’t stifle a chuckle. As the evening wore on, Amber noticed him continuing to sneak furtive glances at her exposed chest. She knew she had successfully tapped into his primal desires, igniting something deep within him that he couldn’t deny.
Amber relished the power she held over these men, using her body as a weapon to break through their defenses. She had uncovered the raw, animalistic hunger that lurked beneath their aged exteriors — an insatiable need to feast upon youthful flesh.
What do you think Amber will do? How far will she go? Find out for yourself here:
Or catch up on the first part of Amber’s adventures here:
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