Men I’ve Loved Fucking

The Other MILFs — Anthony

A hefty six inches busting out of his cute panties.

Doctor Bonner leans back in his chair, his fingers steepled, a look of vague concern crinkling his brow.

“So, Tori… We’ve talked about your family, and where you are in your career right now. My initial impression is you’re a capable and confident woman, with a laid-back approach to handling any speed humps you meet on your journey. Which leaves me with one question: why do you believe you need therapy?”

“I’m a total slut. I need to stop.”

He nods. “I see. That word, ‘slut’; what does it mean to you?”

“I’ve had a lot of men. My body count is… I don’t know, if I’m honest. High, but I stopped counting when I reached triple digits. The thing is, I like them. Men, I mean. Well, cock, really. I like cock. Can I say ‘cock’?”

“This is your time, Tori. You can use whichever words you’re comfortable with.”

That suits me; I hate having to self-censor. “Cool. I love cocks, Doc. All of them: big or small, showers or growers, cut, uncut, even half-cut and droopy. I love looking at them, holding them, wanking them, sucking them, but especially being fucked by them.”

“And this causes you problems?”

“Yeah. A lot of the time I’m hooking up with guys who are practically strangers.”

“I see. Do you feel comfortable enough to give me an example?”

“Okay. Take last night, for instance…”

I don’t often go out on a Thursday evening, but Holly’s Midnight Rockers were playing at the Tilted Brim. Queercore is so hot right now; I wanted to see Holly again before they break big, while they’re still playing intimate venues.

The Brim was near capacity by the time I got there. I thought about trying to squeeze through the heaving mass of bodies to get to the front, but I’d only end up being groped and I was in the mood for more than that. So I hung out in front of the bar where there’d be just enough space to dance. I got myself a vodka-bull and chilled while the support were on.

This cute guy in a tartan miniskirt came and stood next to me. He was an art school student, I think. He had great legs — better than mine — and his eyeshadow matched his little kilt. He must have spent ages on that; I appreciate a man who makes an effort.

I asked him, “Is it true what they say about kilts?”

He looked blank. “What do they say?”

“That real Scotsmen don’t wear anything under them.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t know. I’m English, and it’s not a kilt. Hi, by the way. I’m Anthony; he, him, his.”

“Hi, Anthony. I’m Tori; she, her, anyone’s.”

That got me another laugh. “Hi, Tori. Sorry to disappoint you, but I am wearing panties.”

That didn’t disappoint me in the slightest. “I bet you a shag they’re the same colour as mine.”

He didn’t laugh at that. “You know, if you wanted to see them you only had to ask.”

Then he flipped up the front of his skirt to reveal a tasty little cock nestled in the soft embrace of white lace.

My cunt twitched at that sight. “Nice! The bet’s still on, though. If mine are the same colour, I get to take you home and peg you. If they’re different, you take me into the toilets and fuck me. Are you game?”

His smile suggested he’d consider it a win either way. “Go on then. What colour are yours?”

“I’m not wearing any.”

The Brim is the perfect venue for hook-ups: adventurous but mostly trustworthy patrons, and a gender neutral toilet with a bowl of free condoms beside the hand basins.

Anthony grabbed a pack of protection, and I reached under his skirt to grab his cock while he went in for a deep kiss. He was a grower, with a hefty six inches busting out of his cute panties by the time our tongues untangled and I led him into the nearest vacant cubicle. He was a good kisser, eager but soft-lipped, and that, along with a hot, hard cock in my hand, was enough to get me aching to be filled.

“How do you want it, Tori?”

I wriggled my dress up, knelt on the lid, and braced my arms on the cistern. “Hard and fast is good. Just don’t cum inside me.”

“I am putting the condom on!”

“Good, keep it on. But I still need you to pull out when you’re on the edge.”

He ran one finger lightly between my lips. “Do you want — ”

“No! I’m ready, I just need a quick fuck.”

And that’s what I got: two minutes of vigorous pounding while he told me how tight I was, and how wet, and how good my vagina felt. He actually said ‘vagina’.

Then he abruptly pulled out.

I like to watch men ejaculate, and I don’t get to see it often. Younger guys are best, because some of them cum powerfully enough to almost hit the fucking ceiling, but they always want to finish inside something — anything — so I take advantage of the cooperative ones when I find them.

I hopped down from the toilet, lifted the seat, rolled his condom off and wanked him until he pumped magnificent jets of cum into the air.

“Thanks, Anthony. Catch you later, maybe.”

I shooed him out, then cleaned up the rim and the floor with toilet paper, washed my hands, and got back to the bar in plenty of time for Holly.

“So, yeah, that was last night. Slutty, right?”

Doctor Bonner maintains the non-judgmental, ‘detached but listening’ expression he’s worn since I started my story. “I agree that some people might consider your behaviour slutty, but you said it causes you problems. I didn’t hear any problems in that story.”

“Okay, there wasn’t any real issue last night, but there might have been. What if a steward had found us and I got banned from the Brim?”

“The Tilted Brim sounds like an exciting venue. Does that sort of thing happen often there?”

“Sure, all the time. When we went in, there were two cubicles occupied by five pairs of feet.”

“I see. Did you, um, achieve orgasm?”

“From a quick shag in the bogs? No, Doc, I didn’t come. But sometimes I prefer a cock without an orgasm to an orgasm without a cock, y’know?”

I don’t think he does know, but he jots something down in his notebook.

He looks at me with his other expression, his ‘paid to care’ contemplative frown. “Our hour is nearly up. If you would like to see me again, I believe I can help you. To that end, I’m going to give you some homework. For next week, I’d like you to write about a man you’ve particularly enjoyed being with. Consider why you enjoyed that encounter, and any problems that were caused by the two of you getting together. Will you commit to doing that?”

“I’ll try. Do you want all the sticky, sweaty details?”

“Whatever you feel comfortable telling me, Tori.”

This is part 1of a 26 episodic series; each chapter is a stand-alone story and will be published here on Tantalizing Tales each Wednesday. You can find them all here…

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