She orgasm, peak on my thrusts.

I record my stepmother while she masturbates, she has a wet and elderly pussy pt3 She rides on my phallus until I zenith in her

A Night with Mrs. Johnson: An Sultry Tale of Elderly Fun

Let me paint you a picture, my dear reader, one that’s as carnal and sultry as a summer’s night. I’m talking about a night spent with Mrs. Johnson, a lady who’s got more experience under her belt than a seasoned sailor. And let me tell you, that experience was a goddamn treasure trove of pleasure.

The Setup

It was a Friday night, and I’d had a long week at the office. I was in need of a release, and who better to provide it than the older, sultry Mrs. Johnson? I’d been eyeing her for weeks, her curves and confidence turning me on every time I saw her at the local watering hole. And tonight, I was finally going to make my move.

The Contact

She invited me over for a drink, her voice low and sizzling. I could already feel my fever stirring in my loins. Her home was a cozy oasis, filled with the scent of vanilla and mature oak. And there she was, sitting on the plush couch, her legs spread just enough to give me a tantalizing glimpse of what lay beneath.

“You know you want it,” she purred, her eyes locked on mine. I could barely contain my afterglow, my heart bang like a drum in my chest.

The Act

We moved to the bedroom, the room bathed in a soft, desirable glow. She was a vision, her skin smooth and tanned, her maturity only adding to her allure. I could feel my tool twitching in my pants, hungry for her.

“Take me,” she said, her voice a humid whisper. I obliged, tearing off my clothes and diving into her embraced. Our bodies melded together, our skin slick with sweat and lust.

I moved between her legs, her elderly pussy a sight to behold. It was soft and inviting, her arousal evident in the way it glistened in the dim light. I dove in, my tongue tracing her folds, her moans filling the room.

I could feel her getting closer, her build trembling under my touch. And then it happened, her peak washing over her like a wave. She gripped my head, her legs shaking as she came, her older pussy clenching around my tongue.

I pulled away, my cock hard and ready. I positioned myself at her entrance, feeling the warmth of her maturity surround me. I thrust, her moans echoing in the room as I plunged deeper. I could feel her muscles contracting around me, her aging pussy milking me of every drop of thrill.

The Denouement

We lay there, spent and satisfied. Her old physique was a testament to the gift we’d shared. I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the night, the treat we’d experienced together.

But as the sun began to rise, I knew it was time to go. I slipped out of bed, my heart heavy but my mold full of satisfaction. I left her home, knowing that I would remember that night for a long time to come.

And that, my dear reader, is the story of my night with Mrs. Johnson and her aged pussy. It’s an chummy story of fever, of desire, and of the treat that comes with the wisdom of age. But relive, this story is for adults only. Happy fappin!