Mounted - Sex Stories

Mounted

... intently, enjoying the sight of her boobs hanging vertically now, but unlike mine, they did not swing; their firmness held her flesh still.

She stood by the bed, naked except for her panties and socks; she looked incredibly desirable, and she was mine. Kirsten moved her legs apart, and I looked between them to see a big wet patch on her panties. She pushed a hand inside the waistband, then moved her fingers down until the bulge of her knuckles was over her mound.

“Och, I’m wet, Angelica, very wet, and I want to make love to you.”

Then she took her hand out, pulled her panties down, stepped out of them, and sat down next to me again.

“Sit up, Angelica.”

She held her hands out in front of me for me to grasp, and I pulled myself into a sitting position. Her hands went to my blouse and pressed gently against the material over my boobs. She leaned towards me, and our lips joined together. This time, it was my tongue that entered her mouth.

As we kissed, I felt her undo my blouse buttons, one by one. Then she pulled the two sides apart and pressed her palms against my bra cups before gently rotating them over my nipples. I felt immensely aroused and very happy.

“You are way overdressed, ma hunnie.”

Funny words, I thought, but the tenderness and meaning were clear. She had broken our kiss, but our faces were just millimetres apart when Kirsten moved her hands up to my shoulders and pushed my blouse away; it fell down my back, and I lifted my arms clear of ...

... the sleeves. Her hands went behind my back, and in a trice, she unclipped my bra, and my breasts dropped down, free of its elastic embrace.

“Lie down, Angelica.”

As I dropped back, she grasped my blouse and bra, pulling both clear of my body before throwing them aside.

“Knickers, ma luve.”

I lifted my hips as she twisted around and pulled them down and off my feet. I was naked before this girl, the effects of age on my flesh laid out for her to see, but I felt no embarrassment; she wanted me, warts and all.

Kirsten lay down next to me, on her side, her head propped up on one bent arm, the other hand brushing across my tummy, wandering around. She explored my nipples, rolling them between finger and thumb, and squeezed each breast in turn before lowering her head and sucking the nipple. Her free hand ran down my sternum, found my tummy button, pushed in, and twirled around before trickling further along until she was pressing on my mound.

She shifted down the bed again, kneeling between my splayed legs, her hands stroking my thighs and my tummy. Then she leaned forward, supported on her elbows, squeezing my boobs again, one in each hand, her tongue flicking from one side to the other.

My nipples were engorged, full, and sensitive as she shuffled down my body. I knew where she was going; I wanted her to touch me where no woman had been for decades; I wanted her on my clit, inside my vagina; and when the moment came, it felt as if something inside me had ...