1. My First MILF


    Date: 4/1/2024, Categories: MILF, Author: BrentB78 

    Some quick background: I joined the military right out of high school and married my high school sweetheart before boot camp. After my first tour in Iraq, she divorced me. This story occurs a few months after…

To say I was down in the dumps would be the understatement of the century. I was despondent. My friends hoped a night out would turn things around, but I did not think it possible.

We went to our favorite sports bar and watched a day's worth of college football. Since I went to the military out of high school, I was the only twenty-two-year-old in the bar not fanatically tied to the results of these college games. I did drink like a college kid, though, only better.

After the games ended, two of my friends convinced me to follow them to a hotel bar. They knew there was a wedding there that evening, and this would result in an overflow into the bar afterward. It sounded like a decent plan, and even though I was not in the mood, I went along anyway.

The bar was packed. My buddies started wheeling and dealing with the patrons, but I found a seat in the corner where I could be pathetic by myself. Beautiful women filled the place, but I didn’t feel worthy of any of their attention.

Just as I had decided it was time to go, someone bumped into me.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” the woman said.

I was too stunned to speak. This woman was gorgeous. Beautiful blonde hair, bright green eyes and a smile that dazzled, I could not do anything but stare.

“Did I ...
    ... knock you out?” she asked with that smile glowing.

Gathering myself, I managed to say “Maybe” and give a light chuckle.

“What’s a handsome guy like you doing wallowing in the corner over here?”

“Long year,” I said.

“Oh, I hear you sweetie,” she said, and put a hand on my leg.

“Almighty, these are some muscular legs you got here. Work out like crazy?”

“Well, yeah, I’m in the Marines,” I said.

“That’s amazing. Thank you for your service,” she said.

“You don’t have to say that,” I said, noticing I was smiling. “But thank you.”

“I’m Sandra,” she said.

“Brent.”

“Nice to meet you, Brent. Why don’t I buy you a drink?”

How could I say no to that? I nodded and she brushed her ass against me, grabbed my hand and led me to the bar.

We started talking, and it became clear there was a connection between us. Her hands were all over me, and after a drink, I got comfortable putting my hand on her leg and gently stroking. After over an hour of this, she asked if I wanted to go out to the dance floor. How could I say no?

“Ok, but before we go out there,” she said, casually brushing her hair aside, “I need you to do one thing for me.”

“Anything,” I said more confidently than I felt.

“I need you to kiss me.”

I knew this was a big moment, potentially make or break. Despite the amazing conversation we had, I still could be the sad sack she initially ran into earlier.

I grabbed her hand, pulled her towards me, and put my lips on hers. With her ...
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