Succulent
Page 24
I took out a one-year membership, had a brief tour of the facilities, then left on my own to check the place out. I checked out everything, even the glass window that had four ladies standing in front of it drooling. That glass window was part of the tour I hadn’t received, so I walked over to see exactly what they were drunk over.
At first, all I saw were exercise machines, all kinds, walking machines, leg builders, everything. Then he stood up. Suddenly I turned into one of those trolls staring glassy-eyed at perfection. He had to be the one the girls were talking about. He fooled them by coming in earlier and missing the devils in heat! Smart man—fine as hell also.
I don’t know why I wasn’t shown that part of the gym during my tour, so I asked the lady next to me, who had finally gotten a grip on the saliva dripping down her jaw.
“Two reasons,” the lady replied. “First, this section is for stockholders; second—him. Everyone who has shown this section to the ladies joining up managed to lose the proverbial ‘control of the room.’”
“What do you mean?”
“After getting a dose of Jaylen, who could listen to anything anyone else said? Look at the guy!”
I kept looking at him. He was so fucking sexy that my jaw dropped. Jaylen Matthews definitely was the one my friends were juiced up over. I don’t mean juice that you drink, no, the juice that flows from the punany after seeing a man that almost made you pass out from his good looks. That kind of juiced up! Who could blame the heifers? For once, they were on target in the looks department, despite that what they usually brought home from a date was from the insect kingdom.
Jaylen had been bench-pressing weights and I couldn’t really see what he looked like until he lowered the weights. Sure, he looked sexy lying flat on his back while lifting almost two hundred pounds over his head, but when he stood, God, was he major eye candy. He was wearing midthigh sweat shorts, tube socks that drooped to his ankles, and a damp sweat top—a killer! His curly, black hair was damp with perspiration; it really set off his caramel complexion.
He returned the weights to their chambers and stood with a bottled water. I could really see how perfect he was. That thick erection he was sporting was an added bonus. All I could see was myself lowering onto it and rocking like crazy. When I returned to reality, I noticed my hands were flat against the window, my jaw dropped, and my tender buds practically clawing out at him. They were so hard that they were hurting, and a dose of his lips pulling on them would have been a dream come true. Then my eyes met his. I swear I thought those big, dark eyes of his could see me. The lady next to me smiled, like she knew what I was going through. She did, that’s why she and the others were still there.
Feeling a little foolish about my behavior, I asked her if he could see us or if it was one of those one-way windows.
“He can see us alright, hon. That’s why his dick is so big poking through those shorts. He sees something he likes.”
When I looked back at him, he smiled a bit at me, then winked before tossing the rest of the water down his throat. I got so nervous and decided it was definitely time to leave. I never told my girls that I saw the living legend, but I went back there the following Wednesday to stare him down at that window again. I purposely went there alone to have him to myself.
I walked into the adjoining women’s workout room; yeah, like I could actually bench-press any of the equipment in there. No one told me to leave so I decided to stay in there until security dragged me out.
At nine forty-five exactly, Jaylen pulled open the doors and walked into the men’s workout room. He hadn’t immediately seen me on the other side since I was in the corner tugging on those power ropes that I couldn’t make budge. I didn’t really know what to do. If I popped out of nowhere, I’d scare him to death, and he’d be mad. If I let him find me on his own, he’d question what the heck I was doing there since it was supposed to be a restricted area and he’d be mad. Either way, I was screwed, but not the way I’d want to be.
I decided to come out in the open and get it done on my own instead of having him drag me by the hair down to security. I waited until he got into his routine. He started out with a little cross training. I watched from my secluded corner. Next, he pumped a little iron. Watching those muscles flex and bulge like that made me weak in the knees. I liked the feeling. When he lay on his back to do the leg lifts, that’s when I lost it in a major way. The weight I had in my hand fell and popped me right on the foot. I screamed out without even knowing it. All I could feel was the pain beginning to throb in my toe, and I sat on the floor to massage it. Unfortunately, at that time Jaylen was the last thing on my mind. What came first and foremost was the pain, then the security guard I knew would be around the bend because of Jaylen alerting him to the perpetrator.
When I got enough nerve to look at the window, Jaylen was pressed against it looking at me. He mouthed to me since it was soundproof, “Are you okay?”
After I figured out his words, I nodded and gave him the okay symbol with my fingers. He stared at me for a few seconds, scanning my frame in that tight-fitting PUMA outfit I’d decided to wear, then moved on to the leg machine again. I knew I’d dodged the bullet since I didn’t see him making any plans to go for security. I was in a “stockholders only” area. However, I liked the way he scouted me, and that could be what saved my neck.
Throughout our workouts, we’d peep one another, and he liked the attention I was showering him with. My workout suit was almost see-through and hugging all my curves, and he definitely paid attention because his erection was good and hard, tenting the front of those white workout shorts like wild. I wanted to think it was solely me making those pants tent like that, but working the hell out of those machines may have played a role in it. I’m good, but not that good.
The more I looked at Jaylen, the more I wanted to taste him, feel him pressing into my throat. As usual, I let my mind get the best of me and became nervous over the thought of him.
I looked down at my watch and realized it was minutes to closing time and I was still in my sweats, but I just couldn’t leave the window. I hated to leave because he was worth staying and getting caught with. Knowing the kind of man Jaylen Matthews was, he probably got kicks out of the ladies staring his ass down, then going home to his wife. That was the kind of fucking luck I had: finding the juiciest man on the planet, but not being able to land him because of a wife.
Then the proverbial lightbulb went on in my head. Yes, I do manage to have a smart idea, occasionally. Jaylen had a passkey to the facilities. My plan was this: purposely get locked in and have to go to him to get out…or to get off! Suddenly he made a move I hadn’t counted on. He stepped away from the weight trainer and approached the window again. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, all I could do was watch him approach me in that tight, sweaty T-shirt and shorts. Man, the closer he got to me, the hotter I got. In all my orgasmic nonsense it soon dawned on me that he was probably approaching me to tell me to back the fuck off; that maybe he was tired of being stared at as if he were a zoo animal. I got scared and backed up.
Jaylen backed up a bit so I could get a head-to-toe view of him, then he got busy. His eyes stared into mine as he massaged that massive erection up and down through his pants. I could feel my nectar rising within my core. Then it hit me, he was about to give me a live sex show. Was I about to leave the action? Fuck no, I stayed and watched everything that pretty man did.
When his erection got hard and thick within his pants, he let out a damn dazzling smile that made me cum. No man had ever smiled so wickedly at me that my panties got wet; then again, I’d never met Jaylen. His hands slowly took the hem of his shirt and pulled up, exposing a chest I’d have smacked my mother to touch. His pecs were mouthwatering, contours and ripples were everywhere. All my nasty little tongue wanted to do was lick, lick from his collarbone to his tight abs and continue south. My hands clutched my tank-covered breasts and squeezed, feeling my feverish, hard nipples rubbing against my palms. All the
while, my eyes never left his.
Bending to remove his socks and shoes was a chore because that delicious cock was in the way, but he managed. His fingers beckoned me to get closer. I knew he was going to slide his pants down next, but I wasn’t sure just how and what else he was going to do. After all, the dude was clever with his seduction. Nonetheless I moved back to the window and watched him slide the shorts to his hips. His rod bounced out, sprang to life, and I dropped to my knees, wondering how all that would feel stroking my insides. I watched how he massaged it, making it bigger and bigger within his hand. He stroked that beautiful, thick member until he was about ready to squirt. His muscles tensed, he squeezed it harder, and playfully rubbed it against the glass directly where my mouth was. I swear I could taste him, feel him sliding it between my lips and forcing his inches into me.
He stroked it so hard that I could see the moisture forming on his tip. I couldn’t help myself, I had to reach between my thighs and stroke myself to match his tempo. The more he stroked himself, the deeper my finger slid into my valley. When he dropped to the floor, I scrambled to see what he was going to do to me next. It was outrageous, let me tell you! That pretty-ass boy got on his back and moved his hips up and down like a lady was on top of him. I screamed in ecstasy over the sight of it. He pumped hard and long, perspiration dripping from him, muscles tensing. I just knew he was going to deliver onto the floor instead of into me. No. He turned over on his stomach and did push-ups, pumping those hips and cock into oblivion. He still hadn’t cum for me yet. That was the grand finale, watching him cream into his own hands while staring me down.
He returned to his back and pressed out so much cum that I almost fainted from the orgasm he gave me. When my breathing returned to normal, I looked into my hand, now covered with so much of my own thick moisture that my fingers were sticking together. Then I glanced at him watching me with a sweet smile on his wonderful lips—his erection was still in his hand, and still harder than diamonds.
The windows were nice and steamed by the time he and I finished. I watched as he grabbed the rest of his belongings and headed for the showers. I took off as well, figuring that was all I’d ever get from him. He was cool enough to give me a show without involving the police, so the least I could do was be thankful for the show and go home to watch the stories I’d taped.
While in the shower, I couldn’t help but smile in remembrance of the first, and probably last, sex show a man had given me without having touched me. I let the warm water trickle down my aching joints and relaxed. My body mitt delicately encircled my breasts, pretending the sultry touch was Jaylen’s fingers. The mind is a tricky and dangerous tool. I could actually feel Jaylen fingering my breasts, sucking on them gently before making a tongue track down to my core. I shuddered in waves of heat. My body trembled, spasmed, taking my mind off the pain from the injured foot. I completely gave in to pleasure and let the most tremendous orgasm hit me like no other one had ever before…well, until Jaylen happened on the scene.
Then.
“Damn, girl!”
The words came from nowhere. I assumed they had been in my mind. Nonetheless, my eyes opened and I twirled around to see if anyone had come in. There Jaylen was, standing directly in front of me. I tried reaching for my towel but he snatched it from the railing before I could get it.
His cool, seductive voice melted into my spirit. “Imagine how big this boner would be if I’d been able to see you screw yourself from the front. All I could see was that delicious butt of yours shaking and quivering to some sexual daydream. Was it about me?”
I couldn’t speak. All I could do was look down at the towel around his midsection, sporting a killer of an erection. My mouth opened, my voice cracked. “I…I, uh…”
“It’s okay, girl. I know you were thinking about me. How could you not after the show I gave you.” He moved toward me, one step away from entering the stall with me. “Did you like my show? Did I get you”—he slapped my fanny—“hot enough to want a repeat performance?” He pulled his towel off and entered the stall.
I tried covering my nakedness with my arms. He pulled them down. “Don’t you dare cover up a thing.”
“Is…is it okay for us to be here—”
“It’s okay for me to do any damn thing I please in here.” He kissed my cheek. “I’m Jaylen Mat—”
“I know who you are, Mr. Matthews. Every woman within a five-city radius knows who you are.”
“Yeah? Who might you be?”
“Carol.”
“And as lovely-sounding as one, I might add. Carol who?”
“Barnes; nothing exotic, nothing romantic, just regular old Carol Barnes.”
“Not from my standpoint. You’re ravishing, and I enjoyed pleasing you. Can I please you again?”
“I’m not a shareholder, just a member. I was actually scared you’d turn me in over being where I shouldn’t have been.”
“You were exactly where you were supposed to be, Carol Barnes—and I’m supposed to be here with you.”
I relaxed, knowing he wasn’t going to turn me over to the cops, or even the sex police. Sex police, huh? That sounded good, too!
His hands covered my breasts, much the same way they did in my daydream. He stroked the tight tips with his thumbs, then replaced them with his lips. He sucked them ferociously, licking them like they were candy. My head reared back as he moved from my breasts, licking up and down my neck. My arms wrapped so tightly around him that I thought I’d squeeze him to death; it only made his cock that much harder.
As the water continued to drench us, he lifted me into his arms; my legs hugged his hips. I felt the tip of that delicious cock play with my opening, tease it, rub up and down on it. I faced him, staring into those delicious gray eyes of his. “I want everything from Mr. Everything.”
“I’ve had many names, but that’s the best one. So, you want everything, huh?”
“Every single drop.”
“I’ve got a lot to give. You should be careful what you ask for.”
“I don’t care about anything, just give me what you own, Mr. Everything with gray eyes and beautiful brown skin.”
His muscles tightened around me; our bodies pressed against the wall. Within seconds, by body was implanted with the most outstanding cake of dynamite to ever ignite. He pounded away inside of me so expertly and smoothly I thought he was born inside me.
We finished an hour later, but when we tried to leave, the building was locked in every area. I knew Jaylen had a passkey somewhere, but he argued up and down that he’d left it at home; simply an excuse to stay with me the rest of the night. That was exactly what happened, and we made love all night.
The next morning after our shower, he dressed and left while I took an extended shower. After stepping from the nice, hot stall, Jaylen left a message on the steamy mirror. “I left you my passkey. Meet me here later tonight and we’ll do it all again. See you soon, my ‘not so plain Carol Barnes.’”
I kissed his key, then slipped it into my purse. Yes, the girls would never believe this!
Sure, we had our love affair, and it was a dandy one, too. In fact, it was so scrumptious that he decided a good thing could last forever. We’re now engaged and making plans to purchase our own fitness center.
Cougar
Zane
I never heard of the term cougar until I became one: a woman in her forties who exclusively craves young dick. I only wish that I had started in my thirties. Then I would have been called a bobcat.
I don’t merely crave young dick, I worship it. It has become my mantra: “Young dick! Young dick! Young dick!” I often chant it on my way out to clubs in Charlotte. Now, do not get me wrong. When I say “young dick,” I do mean “legal dick.” I’m not trying to get locked up for humming on a teenybopper’s mic.
Umm, thinking about giving head always drenches my panties. Some women like to go shoe shopping. Some women like to collect antiques. Some women like to play tennis on Saturday aft
ernoons. I like to swallow dicks—whole; young dicks.
Last January, I celebrated my fortieth birthday with a host of family and friends. It was quite a milestone for me but it was also a rude awakening. I realized that men my age could no longer turn me on, rather less turn me out. They were either too worn-out, too stressed-out, or damn near impotent. You would think that a man over forty, with more than likely at least twenty years of fucking experience under his belt, would know how to satisfy a woman. Not! At least not the ones I was getting to know in the biblical sense.
I decided to go older and started dating Alfred. That was my first and last experience with a man in that age range. Shit, he was near sixty and had been fucking since I was born. What a pathetic, lousy fuck he turned out to be. His breath was as foul as a clove of garlic to boot. When he “attempted” to eat my pussy, I had to hold my nose because his breath threatened to make me faint.
Have you ever had a man who spent more time blowing in your pussy than eating it? That was Alfred’s ass. One night I was scared shitless that he might actually give me an embolism. I quickly changed positions, sucked him off until he came like a bolt of lightning, and told him to take his raggedy ass home in his raggedy-ass car.
That’s another thing. Alfred had to either go Dutch on all our dates or ask to borrow the money from me, which he never repaid. I do not profess to be the wealthiest sister on the planet, not even in Charlotte, but I take care of mine. Speaking of “mine,” I have two absolutely beautiful daughters from my one and only marriage. Titus and I were married right after college, and while I can truly say that I loved that man, he disrespected me with another woman. Unlike most women who accept that their men make mistakes and slip up and land in another pussy, I immediately filed for divorce.
Our daughters are seventeen and fourteen and we have joint custody, so I have them every other week. Titus and I only live six miles apart and their school is smack-dab in the middle, so that makes it simple enough for us to manage. I never have men over to my house for sexcapades while my daughters are there. Even though a lot of the teenage boys they bring over from high school consider me a MILF—Mom I’d Like to Fuck—I would never go there. My dicks need to at least be in their early twenties, which is why I love the club scene. In today’s age, when clubs are overly nervous when it comes to losing their liquor licenses for serving underage drinkers, I leave it up to them to screen dick for me. The clubs that I go to check the front and back of IDs to make sure they are not phony. Goody, goody for me!