The New MILF

You can certainly expect sparks to fly when you put a woman who says she's well-versed in the ways of men, and a man who thinks he knows exactly how to please and tease a woman: she knew exactly where I love to be stroked, sucked and licked; I knew the right amount of touch and pressure with my fingers and tongue-- the overall effect was beautiful, it was a lustful symphony played out close to perfection, it was heaven when I finally came on her and she in turn responding with quivers of her tummy and thighs.

Ancient Japanese sex books called it "the moment of the clouds and the moon", and I certainly had no regrets taking time off from gym and MMA training to meet up with The New MILF on the first day of my week off.

I'm still relishing in the memory of the taste of her yummy wet cunt that seemed to be never-endingly flowing with her juices, the feel of her full breasts and perky nipples as I played and teased; the scent of her perfume as we made love on the sheets, and the sensations of how great it felt when she never worked her inquisitive tongue on my balls and the suction as she took my cock in her mouth.

***

On a separate note, young lover Izzy is getting a little pissed I seem to have forgotten about her these past few weeks. So just to convince her she was missed even if I was fucking other lovely ladies, I promised to spend the rest of the next 2 days with her and her only (lucky J isn't in town again), and she seemed appeased with that-- "pending performance", she teased.

So it's gonna be a busy week even though I'm off from work it seems. :)

"Do you tire of this?"

I finally met up with Bru after all the little misses we'd been having. Ten minutes over coffee was all it took for us both to realise the "magic was still there", as she always puts it, and we headed over to my sexy Italian lover's home less than 20 minutes' drive away and get right down to things.

Bru loved it when I went down on her and took my time to tease and lick at her clit; with her, it was more about me giving her oral pleasure than the other way around-- not that I'm complaining. I love getting mouthfuls of her nice juicy pussy while my hands work on her glorious full breasts complete with large perky nipples: she's just absolutely lovely to be with.

She did treat me to a nice blowjob taking my cock into that mouth of hers and being oh-so-generous with her tongue licking away at my balls and sucking hard on my rod, her beautiful dark hazel eyes looking right at me as she took mouthfuls of my manhood.

And then, the main course: entering Bru was just magnificent after all this while, and I almost forgot just how good it felt to be inside her, moulding her breasts as I thrust away at her wet juicy cunt, hearing her moans and sighs as she rocked in unison to my thrusts.

***

In our little after-sex moment where we both lit up fags and sat naked on her little patio-- she didn't care about prying eyes, not Bru-- she was stroking my still-hard cock and me lightly brushing against her pussy, admiring her beauty despite her 42 years of age. She was still a tight-bodied hot momma despite everything, and she is a stunningly beautiful woman. 

She suddenly turned and asked, "Do you tire of all this?"

I asked her what she meant, and she replied she was just curious if I ever got bored of going around with 'random women' after all these years.

Well truth is: I'm not. I do get bored blogging about my flings and sexcapades though, and I am convinced all the other so-called sex/erotic bloggers do get likewise, and sex blogs are more a come-and-go kind of thing. I should know: I must have at least 4 or 5 blog versions of my little black book that I've started and ended, took long hiatuses, and then come back again-- and I have no idea if this one will keep up too. 

From the looks of things, judging from the other blogs that have closed down for some reason or another, I suspect I'm right: it's hard to sustain and continue writing about your sexual adventures if your blog happens to be entirely about sex; I mean, what happens when you hit a dry spell?

And if you're someone like me, well, much as I enjoy writing and expressing myself, I do find it a burden sometimes to give updates...but enough about blogging already.

It turned out there wasn't any particular reason why Bru happened to ask me that (so she claimed). It was something about a married woman trying to understand my point of view on things-- something like that-- or in any case, it was probably just idle chatter after sex, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, as it turned out, we started making a new arrangement to this new twist to our little affair (more fuck buddy-ish now) seeing that Bru's husband is now travelling less even though her kid's started school. It probably wouldn't be as regular as what we used to have, but it'll do given her contraints and mine.

A Bruno Mars moment.

Cheating a little, but somehow It Will Rain kept playing in my mind all day, and it made me think of you, and just how dumb it was to have let you go.

Anyway, it was raining the whole day today, and I was mostly stuck indoors on my own-- surprise surprise.

But it was nice to be thinking a little of you, baroness.

This is interesting...

I'm following Guess Her Muff, and I have to say it's smut-fully delightful and intriguing; I mean, hell, I'd love to know what all your muffs look like, and it'd be certainly a pleasant surprise if you ladies snapped up a couple of personal upskirts of yourselves and emailed them over to me!

Well, done, Muff-ins!

Office flings

A lady friend asked me the other night if she should consider having a fling with a “cute and hunky” young intern at her workplace—this, while we were dressing up after our own little session in her bedroom. 

“I’m hurt”, I mused. “We just had sex, and you’re already thinking of another man’s penis.” 

“Oh really. You, jealous?” she teased in return, her hand stroking my cock that was getting hard to her touch once more. And she tried to appease my mock anger by finishing up with a lovely blowjob and taking the load in her mouth. 

Satisfied once more, I went back to her question of fucking the new guy at work. 

Simple answer is “Yes, go ahead and fuck him”—but I did warn her that she had to be very clear from the onset that it would be just a fling even before she starts dropping her panties for him; too many office affairs turned ugly simply because one of the parties start getting obsessive, and these days, it’s surprisingly the guys who seem to have problems letting go. 

In other words, she had to be prepared to be break-up ready, so to speak, and there was a possibility once the thrill of the sex had fizzled off, she might even have to sit the boy down and tell him literally that it’s all over, and thanks for the great time. 

The reason why I think she had to make things that clear from the start is because people seem so fucking dumb these days, and we have to explain everything to these millennial types. In the past, a simple “it’s not you, it’s me” would suffice; today, it’s all about trying to be 10 separate degrees of sensitive just in case you hurt the person really bad. Yes, that includes the guys even, bloody marshmallows, those. 

I was curious as to why she would be interested in a guy who was a good 7-8 years younger than she was anyway—like, would he even be any good? 

She then went on about how “delicious-looking” he was, with his hunky young bod and babyface looks blah blah blah. Then seeing my somewhat amused look (one eyebrow raised, teeth clenching tongue), she laughed and went “oh baby, don’t get me wrong—you’re cute too—it’s just that, well, it’s like you when you see a sweet young thing and find her irresistible.” 

Silly her. Of course I understand: I didn’t mean if he was any good physically; no, instead, I thought women went beyond just physical attraction and needed to connect at numerous other levels (isn’t that what you women always say?) but apparently it wasn’t so: she didn’t care if the guy, fresh out of school, probably couldn’t hold a decent conversation with her intelligently (by her reckoning, not mine); or the fact that she was technically a superior at work— in this instance, it was just about her wanting to have the guy literally ram his hard cock inside her for as long as he could last, and it was really just about the sex. 

Okay, I admit: I’m old-school alpha male, so it would bring out a tinge of jealousy in me to know if one of the women I was fucking was about to be—or already is—fucking another guy, regardless of the fact that they were supposed to be no-strings attached arrangements. You’d think I would only get jealous if another guy tried to hit on J, but admittedly, I do feel the need to compete when it came to the other women as well. 

All that aside, I wasn’t discouraging her—if anything, I was teaching her how to go about with having an office fling; as if she needed teaching anyway. 

I suppose she did enjoy our little mental sparring sessions that seemed to amuse and turn her on: when we’re like that, she keeps coming back for seconds, and how many times that night have we ended up trying to put our clothes back on, only to try to rip them off each other with much gusto and passion—she getting more and more like a slut who kept wanting me to fuck her dirty each round, me feeling the need to assert my ‘dominance’ and reprove my manhood and virility now that she brought another guy into the picture by the mere mention of it, and my response was to rock her harder as if I wanted to ravish her with every little passing minute. 

It did feel like my cock was being beaten to a pulp with all the hard pumping, and at the end of it all, when we both finally let the exhaustion take over and say “no more”, she was blaming me for the fact that she could hardly close her legs...literally. 

It was savage and raw, yes, and I guess it’s the kind of reaction to expect when you bring out the competitiveness in your partner during sex. Either that, or me and her are just two kinky weirdoes who truly deserve each other. 

But I’m not talking emotions here: like how I’d advised her to lay the cards out right from the beginning and let hunky Kent-doll know she wants him just for the sex, so too had I spelt it out from the first time we had sex almost a year ago that we were just two friends who “happened to fuck each other” every now and then, and that she wouldn’t be—and wasn’t—the only one I do that to. 

In any case, the conclusion was that she may just try to seduce the guy for one time, maybe two, but it wouldn’t be a long-term affair for sure: he wasn’t her type for anything beyond a quick roll, and the whole thing by her reckoning shouldn’t last anything longer than 2 weeks, MEANING TO SAY that after that, when she’s had all her fun, I could expect to have her talk about how she wants to fuck another guy all over again, if only to get me all hyped up to give her “a good one”. 

Or maybe the next time would be me talking to her about me fucking Bru or Izzy and see how she’d respond in turn...or perhaps it could be about me with some random stranger I got to know too, we’ll never know.

The Dorm Room Adventure

I was supposed to meet Brunetta for lunch today, but an hour before our date, she called to take a rain check-- something up with the kids apparently.

"Sorry for the let-down darling", she'd cooed. "I'll make it up to you, promise...next week perhaps?"

So next week it is then: next week, when the husband's not in town, when she could send the kids over to her sister's, and when J's off again on a flight.

And just when I thought I was facing a prospect of a horribly dull afternoon and having to lunch alone, Izzy called and "demanded" to know if I was going to pick her up after her classes. I'd decided initially on meeting up with Bru, and since that lunch date wasn't going to happen, I settled for Izzy, and "apologised" for being too busy to reply about meeting her.

We ended up at a Fragrance hotel room on the west side near the uni after a simple lunch at Vivocity, and she'd wanted to show off her new pair of crotchless panties that she had under her short skirt. Goodness, if that was what she'd been wearing, her undergraduate classmates probably had a good view of her lovely shaven pussy during tutorial classes or something.

We had sex while she kept the panties on. I was admiring her tan lines from the weekend she'd spent at Sentosa with her boyfriend, and the two toned glow seemed to accentuate her brown nipples more-- nice and perky to look at as we fucked. 

Izzy was particularly insatiable today, and she didn't seem to get enough even after I'd come twice and our two hours were up, so we did something that we hadn't done before: head to her room at the hostel, and went for more hard rocking action on that single bed in the room. 

I was getting concerned at some point about her loud moaning and sighs as we had sex in her room, and I was sure I wasn't imagining it when someone in the next door rooms (or probably the rooms above or below us) started blaring loud music. I'd forgotten what it was like to be doing it in a college dormitory, and it was nice to be reminded of the days and nights when I was having fun in my own dorm room in my undergraduate days.

The thing about an undergrad's room was that regardless of the gender, things would be in a perpetual mess, and in Izzy's case, she was careless about leaving her clothes and undergarments around.

"Geez, how do you know which are the clean ones from the soiled ones", I teased as I held up a pair of black panties she'd strewn carelessly on a nearby chair. She didn't want to answer that one, but instead took the panties, rubbed them on her pussy for a while as she continued to moan and sigh, then handed the pair of damp panties back to me.

"These are for you. Happy belated birthday, darling", she teased in return.

Which explains why I had a pair of black wet/soiled woman's panties in my trouser pocket after my little tryst with Izzy, and throughout dinner with J. I couldn't help reaching in to feel at them from time to time over dinner and think back to just how deliciously horny Izzy had been this afternoon, and I couldn't help but grin to myself at the recollection of how she had to peek out from behind the door of her room bare-bottomed and clad only in a tiny t-shirt to "check if the coast was clear" when it was time for me to go. 

Izzy texted me halfway through dinner. "Had fun at the dorm", her first message read; "Be careful she doesn't find them!" read her second message, referring to her panties.

Well find them J won't, for they're now in the pocket of my coat which in turn is hanging in the car...and I'm pretty sure I'd be still thinking about the afternoon's adventure while at work tomorrow-- fingering and playing with Izzy's panties, no doubt. ;)

Missed opportunities

So I missed out on the possible rendezvous with the PR girl from the resort, mostly because J had me all busy going out with her after breakfast. 

There had been a window of opportunity when she signed us up for a spa session: I could have just snuck out to meet up with PR girl, but I needed a nice rub-down too, and that was that.

We left the hotel, but I've still got her name-card, and I'm thinking I could always head back to go look for her on a trip with the boys-- then it'll be winks all around as we'd each seek out a scandal of our own, given our history-- and they did say we'd need a get-together soon enough.

***

J and I headed back to Singapore, and over dinner, my broker called, and I realised while we were busy  getting sun-tans and me trying to get into the pants of some hottie hotel staff, we'd had some missed calls over Saturday and Sunday with regards to a property we'd been trying to sell for a while in Kuala Lumpur: there'd been an interested buyer after the show-around by the agent, and he was ready to make an offer but since the calls didn't get through, he passed on the deal as "he had a flight to catch", as the broker put it.

Right, and we're thus looking to miss out on a seven-digit figure (in SGD, not ringgit, incidentally) just like that. Apparently the buyer wanted to make an offer pretty close to our target price too.

"No worries, love", J ever optimistic as ever beamed. She was pretty certain we'd get more buyers soon enough, and besides, there was still a tenancy in effect, so we've got things covered a bit.

...and somehow, talking about business seemed to make J horny for whatsoever reasons; in a blink of an eye, she'd gone from talking about dollars and sense to whispering naughty things and talking dirty, and I wouldn't say no to fucking her on the leather couch-- and I didn't care if the curtains weren't drawn and people from the next block could look in and see us going at it.

***

And now that I'm back, it's decisions, strategy and tactics: Izzy wants me to meet her tomorrow after her classes; Brunetta the Italian mama wants to do lunch; and Mrs M's texted me to say "Hubby not in town again."

I could try juggle all 3 on the same day, but why rush myself, eh? But I'm actually more inclined to meeting Bru, since it's more like a sensing her out again kind of meeting after her trail went cold since the last time we'd been together months ago. And besides, with Bru, there'd always be surprises...so who knows. *grins*