Marie woke at three in the morning, still on top of the bed and naked. Naked except for her garter belt and nylons. She had a pee and got into bed. It was after nine when she woke again. The air was full of the musky smell of sex. Or more accurately the smell of Ryan's cum Marie had rubbed into her skin. Rather than a shower when she got out of bed, Marie went to the kitchen and made a coffee. The phone buzzed. Marie had...

Marie's bag was packed and in her car. She took one more look around the house. Everything was good, so she set off on her short break. Marie had booked herself in a five-star hotel. It was a gift to herself for being a bad girl. After checking in, Marie went straight to her third-floor room. It was better than she expected. Marie bounced on the bed, 'Oh, yes,' she said to herself. She hadn't gone there to pick a man up,...

. "I'm shaking?" I told my fifty-five-year-old wife, Rose. "Me too," she said. "And there are a few butterflies now." We were waiting for Jason to arrive. I suppose this story began twenty, maybe as long as thirty years ago, when I told Rose I wasn't against her having sex with another man. Nothing ever happened until just four short weeks ago. We were at a friend's house, with a few others having drinks. Most had come in...

"Timothy, no. I don't have ti," Marie's complaint was cut short. She was still getting used to Timothy's youthful eagerness and energy. Adjusting from not having a man for ten years of what seemed a permanently hard cock pointing at her, took some getting used to. It was only a few minutes since Timothy was grunting and filling Marie with his cream, and he was ready again. When he arrived, Marie had warned Timothy he coul...

Marie was back in her room. She went straight to the mirror and looked at herself. There was a smug, but confident look on her face. A smile broke out, "You've just been fucked in the ass," Marie said gloating to herself. Marie was a little tender, but she thought it was a small price to pay. Now she had the evening to look forward to. Time went slow. Marie couldn't wait for nine when she was meeting Tom and Ruth. She had...

Seventy-one-year-old Marie was watching Timothy mowing her lawn. He was nineteen and did odd jobs for Marie. The son of Marie's friend Margaret. Marie smiled and thought to herself, "If only I was fifty years younger." She caught herself holding her breast. A finger on her nipple. "Act your age," Marie said out loud. There hadn't been a man in Marie's life since her husband passed ten years ago. She had always been a sexu...