The cougar

Sophie was bored, and a little frustrated. Yes, she had a had a god reason to split from her husband but now, a few months later, some of the novelty had worn off. Reality had kicked in.

Although she had always been a fiercely independent woman, she still has needs, both emotional and sexual. Whereas family life with her two teenage daughter was lovely and fun, she still felt lonely at times. She masturbated to ease some of the sexual frustration but it wasn’t the same.. She missed male company, the sex and the conversation too, that feeling of intimacy with another person.

Plus, to add insult to injury, she had more recently had to put up her eldest daughter getting the type of intimacy that she herself craved. They were a very open family and she wasn’t surprised when her daughter casually informed her that she was sexually actively. She was 17 and she suspected she had been active for a while but this was her ‘coming clean’. What she had been unprepared for was how active her daughter was although she still hadn’t made her mind up as to whether she had been like that 20 years ago, or whether her current situation had just made her more sensitive to the sound of her daughter getting lots of, what sounded like, very fulfilling sex.

Then there were the boys. She wouldn’t say ‘boyfriend’ because her daughter corrected her on that. She wasn’t exactly a whore but she definitely had a few guys sniffing around her, although she insisted that she didn’t have sex with them. From Sophie’s perspective though, she was getting it from at least one of those hunks that hung around her house on a regular basis.

Not that Sophie looked at the boys much. Ok, she did look: she wouldn’t be human if she didn’t admire some of the strong arms, tight butts and firm abs on the boys that fluttered around her daughter. She had to remind herself that she was old enough to be their mother, but it still fulfilled masturbatory fantasies on those cold lonely evenings when she could hear her daughter climbing the walls in ecstasy.

So Sophie started looking online. Chat sites were ‘ok’ initially but ultimately unfulfilling: she wanted human contact and a man (or woman) that she could ‘connect’ with mentally, that shared her interests, shared her sexual proclivities hopefully, rather than just a ‘partner

One night she got chatting to a guy that hit a lot of the right buttons. He was warm and friendly and interesting but also enough of a sexual deviant to make her heart race and her knickers wet. He made her laugh. He made her want more. That first night she said goodbye and went to bed but was back online within minutes because he was in her mind. And he was there! Waiting. He just seemed to know.

This went in for a few days, or nights, and they got to know each other better and better? but eventually it got unbearable. It was affecting her work and home life because he was on her mind so much. She felt had to meet him, and so the die was cast.

She did the thing any sensible woman would do and met in an open, public place with people around, for safety reasons, just in case he turned out to be a psychopath or axe murderer. Or both, she grinned, as she made the arrangements, her wicked sense of humour never far below the surface. She decided to dress smartly for the date, a black skirt, not too short but enough to be ‘interesting’, with a simple, sheer, white silk blouse. Beneath was a matching Agent Provocateur white bra and panties set, no longer fashionable, she knew, but suiting her expensive, yet racy, tastes. She wore them not for him, rather for her. To make her feel good, confident. Although the effect of the push up bra on her little boobies would not be lost in him.

Sophie’s fears about the date were, thankfully, unfounded. He was everything she could have hoped for, especially for a first date.. Frightfully normal, interesting, witty and sexy with a sparkle in his eyes. There was one problem, however, in that he was much younger than her, maybe only 20. She was 37 now and married, although separated, with two teenage girls. She felt awful and turned on at the same time. She knew she didn’t look her age and she was small and pretty but she knew that he knew, and that made her anxious. However, he didn’t seem to mind and gradually she got used to the idea and the more he flirted the more she warmed to his advances

It was only a first date and her heart beat so fast that she didn’t want it to end but end it did. He was lovely and a gentleman, offering just a friendly kiss on the cheek as they parted and agreed to date again. But his hand did run up and cup her little bottom for the briefest moment when he did so. And she didn’t mind. Not one bit.

When she got home that evening, he was waiting for her online. She grinned like a Cheshire Cat and she secretly masturbated as she talked to him, fingers inside her knickers as they flirted and laughed, recounting their date. She’d like to think she disguised the gentle orgasm she had rather well.

The next date, a few days later, was more relaxed although she’d been like an excited schoolgirl all day leading up to it. She wore a shirt skirt again, remembering that first date, but was otherwise dressed more casually, in case. The look in his eyes as he appraised her made her feel she had done the right thing. The way his glance swept up her tanned thighs as she sat, the furtive looks at her small chest; there was a definite attraction. Her brown eyes sparkled under his attention and he returned her smile when she nervously asked him back for coffee. She hadn’t known whether it would go down well; whether she she being too forward, but he accepted the offer, and her heart leaped.

They headed for the tube home but he was playful as they left the restaurant, joking with her and being increasingly tactile and her hip bumped into him on more than one occasion as they walked along the street. It felt natural when his hand rested there and she made no attempt to remove it. Impulsively, he dragged her into an alleyway for a kiss just before they reached the station, a kiss that she returned eagerly. The height differential obvious, she stood on tiptoe and his hand cupped her bum again as they kissed amorously. She could feel he was hard for her and she had a warmth between her legs that made her feel reckless. To have thoughts of him pulling her underwear down and of taking her there and then in among the litter and the broken bottles that decorated the alley. She was nearly breathless when he finally broke away and they resumed their walk, then a run, as they saw the tube arriving to whisk them home.

It was late when they finally arrived home and she shushed him playfully as she removed his arm from around her shoulders as they walked through the front door. She pointed a finger to the ceiling and mouthed wordlessly, ‘my daughters are asleep’ as she led him to the kitchen. She made them both coffee as he continued to embrace her, seemingly unable to keep his hands off her She didn’t care, this was the attention she craved. Her resolve not weakened but broken, she was bold in asking him to stay and eagerly led him to her room when he agreed.

Sophie was sensitive to the strangeness of the situation she found herself in as she led this stranger into her very girly bedroom. The bed was the same bed she had shared with her husband until recently but now had an assortment of scatter cushions covering it. The pictures on the walls and her bedside cabinet were of her and her family. The faces of her two young girls on the beach smiling up at her from a holiday snap.

The age difference nagged at her but in this moment she felt so alive and was so turned on she had but one thing on her mind. She turned to face him as she started to undress. She wanted to be naked with him, for him, this glorious young man who stood before her, smiling, with an obvious erection visible in his pants.

She hastily discarded her clothes until she stood wearing only her white panties and a big, inviting, smile. His eyes devoured her from the pretty face that smiled back at him, through the perky little pink tipped tits, down to where her hands stood poised. She slipped her thumbs inside the waistband of her knickers and peeled them down, stepping out of them as he moved to the bed. She joined him, kneeling naked before him. Her loins burned with desire and the smell of her sex started to fill the air as she unzipped him and pulled out his smooth, hard, young cock. Her mouth was on his cock immediately, feasting as her hips moved back and forth sexually, she was turned on, the image of her small naked body devouring the penis of a young 20 year old boy sat clothed on her bed. She felt him tense and thought he was about to cum. She wanted him to cum. In her mouth, there and then. However, he urged her backwards and away, onto her back and away from his cock. He tugged his shirt off over his head and slipped his jeans down as she spread her legs like a whore. His whore. His eyes fixed to the tiny triangle of brown curls frothy with the evidence of her desire. She urged him into her, wanting him to cover her small body with his manly frame, to envelop her completely.

‘Protection’, he muttered, to which she answered, “I am on the Pill”, but he had already procured a condom that he slipped on effortlessly. He was perfect.

There was no preamble, he penetrated her in one painful thrust that made her gasp, moist though she was. He was big and in a hurry, as was she. She fucked him back, lifting her knees high and wide to make access easy, wanting him to fuck her hard. Wanting to be easy for him.

She came easily, crying as she did so, from the sheer intensity of the passion. His orgasm took longer as he drove in and out relentlessly, a fond reminder to Sophie of the power of youth, and she came again, more gently this time as his hand moved to her throat and he emptied his seed into the condom inside her.

Spent, they both relaxed and twined in each other’s arms. He was still inside her. Sophie had a big smile on her face as she dozed.