Series
While the Cat’s Away… Part 2 of 2
I want this young guy as my conquest and nothing’s going to stop me.
Read part 1 first — where Maddie, a flirty cougar, sets her sights on Mason who’s on his own for the night. Will she reel him in?
Returning to the saloon bar with an ostentatious swish to my hips, I savour the delicate fragrance of my arousal which reaches my nostrils. I stand close to Mason beside the bar; I hope he detects it too. This fine looking man is good enough to eat. I lean in close.
“Did you miss me?”
He looks vaguely startled, then the creases of his forehead smooth and his outer eyes crinkle instead.
“Yeah — you took all the sparkle with you.”
Those words, and his look when he drinks me in, as if I’m the only person in the world to whom he wants to listen, are final nails in the coffin. A molten knot of desire held in my core flares out right then, spreading tendrils of lust to my extremities. My mouth dries as my pussy floods; a pulse thumps between my legs which has my predatory instincts taking over.
I’ve no idea what we talk about or if people notice our flirting, all I know is that I want this young guy as my conquest and nothing’s going to stop me.
We leave the pub together and, although I’m a little unsteady from the drink, I hardly need to hang onto his arm or to press my body close to him quite as much as I pretend.
“Perhaps we both need some chips — soak up some of the booze.” He smiles down. I love how small and fragile I feel next to his rangy body.
“I’ll steal a couple of yours,” I giggle. I don’t eat in the evening, but he wouldn’t know that.
Walking back to my flat, we stop to kiss frequently. Not since my courting days have I put so much effort into the act of conveying lust and attraction, lip on lip. I suck on his tongue already planning how I’ll suck on his dick. I’m predatory, chasing his tongue with mine, while at other times I press delicate, butterfly kisses over his face and neck. He strokes my hair before tucking it behind my ear — a tender gesture which nearly melts me.
The way we stumble up the stairs to my flat proves we’re both more drunk than we’d realised. He scoops me up, Tarzan like, then tosses me onto my bed.
“You smell so fucking good!” He growls as he crawls up my body. With his nose halfway up my thighs, he nudges my leather skirt up to my hips.
“I’m so good, I’m bad!” I giggle when he notices my no-knickers state, then I compound things by unbuttoning my blouse to display my dainty bra.
He licks a warm wet trail up my ribs towards my breasts, so I wriggle my hips and drag his dark head into my cleavage.
“Bite me!” I urge.
Mason responds, nibbling my pert titties through the gauzy fabric. I sink my nails into his shoulders to push him down to where my hot cunt is pulsing for his oral attention.
Mason doesn’t disappoint, he sets to work licking and probing, swirling juices through the folds of my labia, nearly driving me crazy. As he sucks and stimulates, he plunders my pussy with two fingers? Three? I can’t analyse because I’m frantically clawing and bunching the bedding with the arousal he’s building.
I want to return the favour, to suck his stick of rock, but Mason holds me firmly in place — a specimen under his microscope. Imagining my inner petals spread out for his delectation has my head swimming with desire. With shallow panting, my climax builds; head dizzy and thighs spreading I draw him in.
“Right there, yessss! Oh-Oh. It’s too much!”
Spasming and thrashing, my pussy pulses intensely as I come round his fingers. My juices run in a warm rivulet which soaks his chin. He continues thrusting in and out of my hole with his digits, prolonging the climax; aftershocks wrack my body, but gradually he slows them. When I come down off the ceiling enough to look at him, he licks his fingers and sports a devilish grin.
“Kiss me, you bastard!” I smile.
I draw him up my body, eager to suck on the tongue which has just tipped me over the edge. My own flavour is familiar. As always, there’s pride in what a juicy wet girl I can be.
“Let me suck you.” I nuzzle near his ear. “Kneel over me, I wanna take you in my mouth.”
This position never fails to stir desire in my gut; dominated as a guy feeds his hard cock into my mouth while I lie below him. Mason straddles my face while I suck on his glans, swallowing the salty gloss of pre-cum which had gathered. I moan and hum my appreciation and he rests his arms on the bedstead to thrust gently in and out of my mouth.
My arousal is building again. Dipping my middle finger into my wet pussy, I tease his sphincter with its tip. Mason makes an appreciative gasp and a grunt so I’m alerted to his climbing orgasm.
“I want you inside me,” I beg, squeezing and pinching his tiny, neat nipples.
With a groan he digs in his pocket for a condom, which he rolls on, before adjusting his position so the bulbous head of his cock nestles my juicy entrance.
“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is thick with desire.
“Please … please fuck me.” I beg, wanting it rough and urgent. When his hips swing back to press his full length into me with one hard thrust, my insides swoop with the thrill.
Sawing in and out, Mason’s pelvis mashes my clit on every downward thrust. I rise up to meet him. The embers of my earlier climax flare into flames again ’til I’m burning with pleasure every bit as intense as before.
Mason’s strong arms are cording with tension and his neck strains as he thrusts and bucks into me. Wrapping my legs up and round his hips, I press my calves onto the back of his. The hip tilt and clitoral rub afforded by this position ‘gets’ me every time. Soon I’m gasping and unravelling with a second orgasm. My muscles tighten around his cock, milking it until Mason unloads into me with satisfying thrusts.
We lie together in the afterglow, as gradually our ragged breathing slows. It’s only now our exertions and the alcohol consumed begin to take their toll. We doze. His dick wilts and slips out of me, still sheathed. Next thing I know, Mason’s struggling to a seated position, glancing at his watch.
“Gotta go. You stay put Maddie, I’ll let myself out.”
Drawing the plush throw up the bed, he covers my half-dressed body before he stumbles to the bathroom. The toilet flushes, then I hear footsteps on the stairs which precede the click of my front door.
As I drift back to sleep, I wonder, was this is a one-off, or whether my ‘mouse’ can play some other time the cat’s away.
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