I didn’t mean for anything to happen with Johnny, hell I was not even supposed to be in the examination room with the eighteen-year-old boy. I was helping a friend and fellow nurse. I am a Surgical Nurse and should not have even been assisting a general practitioner doctor with a routine physical.

Johnny was the last patient of the day and the office would be closing soon. Most of the staff had already left including the lab technicians so it was up to me to complete the young boy's lab work. Johnny was just getting a routine physical he needed to play football for his high school. He was starting the high school football team's summer practices in a week and had waited until the last moment to get his physical. The only people left in the office were the front staff and the one doctor.

“I need a sample,” I told the boy as I handed him a urine sample cup. “Then we will draw some blood and you can be on your way.”

Johnny smiled and took the cup. Damn, he sure had a charming smile. “Care to help?” he asked in a confident tone.

I rolled my eyes, “Just go in there and leave the cup on the sample shelf in the bathroom when you are done,” I said and pointed at the door to the restroom. “And you can put your shirt on now.”

“Why? Don’t you like it?” he asked and even had the gall to flex his muscles.

Such arrogance on the boy, I thought. Maybe his bold flirtation could have been partly my fault. I was being unprofessional with him earlier and slightly flirting with him. Flirting just came naturally to me and well, I did have a thing for younger men. Younger men? At forty years of age, my thing for younger men was boys, not men.

Yes, you read that correctly. I am forty-one years old currently but I met Johnny when I was forty. I like younger lovers. My last lover was nineteen but that ended a little over five months ago. He wanted to get serious and I was not the type of woman to get serious. I had serious when I was younger and even married for five years when in my twenties. It just didn’t suit me. I was faithful to my husband, but God knows I was tempted many times not to be.

Oddly, we got divorced when I found out he was cheating on me. I was sure I would have been the one to commit infidelity first. We may have been able to work it out if we had tried, but honestly, I saw that as my escape from my marriage and to be able to leave with dignity and be the victim to our friends. I had not remarried or even had a serious, committed, monogamous relationship since. I had taken several lovers since, more than my share. I had no desire to be in a committed and monogamous relationship and I let my lovers know that before we got too involved with one another.

My previous lover also got a little weird when I broke things off with him. I would not say it was stalking me and it was nothing that made me afraid of him or that he wanted to hurt me, but he was persistent in trying to become my lover again. He would leave notes and sometimes a single flower on my car while I was at work or text and call me constantly wanting to see me again.

After I ended things with him I decided to take a break from dating and that break was lasting longer than I anticipated. That day in the examination room with Johnny, I had not had anything between my legs besides my sex toys in over five months.

I don’t consider myself a cougar. A cougar is a predator who seeks out prey. I do not prey on younger men or women. I just happen to prefer my lovers to be younger.

As I got older and once into my mid-thirties, I found it much easier to find lovers who were willing to not become serious and exclusive, let’s face it, not many eighteen to early twenties year old young men want to get serious with a woman in her thirties and now forties. That was fine by me and something I preferred. The rare times a young lover wanted to get serious and exclusive I broke things off.

Johnny gave me that charming smile, one that I was sure got him plenty of dates from girls in his high school, and went into the bathroom. He didn’t put his shirt on.

When the boy came out of the bathroom I had my surgical gloves on and was holding two small vials to collect the blood and the needle. Johnny sat back on the examination bed.

“Hold out your arm, Johnny,” I told him.

He shook his head. “Do we have to? I really don’t like needles,” he told me.

“We need to draw some blood. If not then we can’t complete the physical and you won’t be able to play football,” I said.

“Seriously, Gwen, I can’t handle needles. Can you just tell the doctor I am fine and have him give me a clean checkup?”

“I can’t do that, darling,” I told him. The darling was not a term of affection, I am southern and that’s just natural to us. “Don’t worry, I stick good so it won’t be bad and I get it on the first try.”

Johnny grinned, “I stick good also and also get it in on the first try.”

I rolled my eyes again and was getting frustrated. I wanted to go home. I did smile however despite myself. That was a clever comment and I did walk into it.

“Johnny, stop fooling around. I want to go home and the front staff wants to go home. Please just stick out your arm and we can get this over with quickly.”

Johnny chuckled. “I don’t get it over with quickly,” he boasted.

I blushed at that comment. He was getting much more forward than before and his confidence and arrogance were growing more impressive. Confidence and arrogance in young men turned me on. Still, I had a long day and wanted to just go home and relax.

“Fine,” I told him. “We just won’t be able to give you a completed physical so you can’t play football.”

“Ok, wait,” he said as I turned my back to him. “I will let you.” I smiled and turned back around. “Only if you let me see your tits,” the boy said after I turned around.

“I don’t think so,” I told him.

Damn this boy was beyond arrogant. He was also getting turning me on. I still wasn’t going to show him my breasts.

“How about you just lift your top and let me see you in your bra,” he suggested.

I bit my lower lip and stared at Johnny for about thirty seconds. He was a good-looking young boy; he was more than good-looking. He was fucking hot! He was six foot two inches tall and not finished growing, and weighed one hundred and ninety pounds; I knew that based on his chart. Johnny had a nice swimmer build to his body and well-defined abs. He styled his sandy blonde hair to give it a messy appearance and his bangs swept down close to his blue eyes. I was sure many young girls in his high school chased after the boy. Johnny would have no problem getting into a girl’s pants.

If I had met the eighteen-year-old boy away from work I may have been more open to his proposition and even invited him to my bed. But still, why was he flirting with me and wanting to see my breasts; a woman twenty-plus years his senior?

I consider myself an attractive woman and have been told I was, but I was certainly not one of those petite, young, perfectly shaped-bodied cheerleader types I was sure Johnny was used to.

I have small, faint freckles over the bridge of my nose and a few larger ones on my cheeks that makeup covered up, but I was not ashamed of my freckles. The freckles became darker and larger and more of a splattered pattern around my neck and over my breasts and stomach and some on my legs and butt cheeks. I had two dark large freckles on the left side of my vulva.

My hair was naturally a dark brown color that I had highlighted sometimes. It is naturally curly and could be wild looking if I didn’t style it and use hair products on it to hold it down. That day in the examination room with Johnny, I wore my hair tight against my head and held it secure in the back with a blue rubber hair band. The only makeup I had on was a light neutral tone lipstick and mascara on my eyelashes.

I rarely applied makeup when going to work anymore and when I did it was very light. I was forty years old and no longer saw the point in it. It was not because I was opposed to makeup and looking good; I had a variety of makeup routines based on what I may be doing or going. I just got over getting up earlier to put makeup on when I went to work.

I stand five feet six inches tall in my bare feet and have a more voluptuous body type with a thicker waist and a more ample butt than those young skinny high school bitches I was sure Johnny was used to fucking. I am just kidding when I called them bitches, I am sure most are nice girls and I am certainly not jealous of them. I am sexually attracted to those types of girls myself as long as they are over eighteen and I have some advantages over those young girls for me to be jealous of them

As I mentioned, I consider myself an attractive woman and have been told I was and even without makeup I am attractive. I don’t have any self-conscious body issues and I like my body and my looks.

Some of the advantages I mentioned are small ones. I own my own home and live alone. It’s a cute two-story, three-bedroom, and two-bathroom cottage-type house in a historic area of the city. It has a lovely large front porch and a nice courtyard back yard and garden in the back, flowers not vegetables. I like to garden. I got it for a great price and it needed some work.

With the house being designated as a historical property, I was able to get some grants from the city, state, and federal government to help with the restorations. No, I didn’t do them myself. I don’t know the difference between an Allen wrench and a socket wrench. Hell, I even just impressed myself to check how to spell Allen when it comes to the wrench and I got it right.

How is that an advantage? Well, my lovers are younger and a lot of them still lived at home with their parents and dated girls their age that were in the same living situation. With me, they didn’t have to sneak around, wait until their parents weren’t home or on vacation, or have to find a secluded location to drive to and have sex in the back seat of a car. Well, that could be exciting sometimes even when you did live alone. With me, they had a place to fuck me as much as they wanted and when they wanted.

Other advantages I had over the younger girls they dated and had sex with or their steady girlfriends was that I rarely said no to them. I didn’t make up excuses that I was not in the mood or was not feeling well, etc. When my lovers wanted to fuck me, they did and I gave in rather easily to their desires and needs. I also didn’t shy away from when they wanted to put their cock in my ass.

There were other sexual things I let them do and encouraged them to do to me that the younger girls may not be into. I can’t be 100% sure because I never asked, but I was pretty sure some things I enjoyed their girlfriends didn’t do. One thing was that I liked helping them explore the fantasies they may have, even the more kinky ones. I had my kinks I liked to introduce them to so why not help them play out theirs? I didn’t deal with mommy issues, however. I was not into that at all nor was I into submissive men. I don’t have motherly instincts and never wanted kids of my own.

Now Johnny was unaware of all that and the fact I enjoyed younger men, so why was this very handsome boy with his great body being so bold and asking me to show him my breasts? Why would he be interested in a forty-year-old woman, yes attractive but still forty years old, when I was pretty damn sure he had no problem getting girls his age? I think there was more than one answer to those questions.

Johnny was one of those young boys who were extremely good-looking and had a body that one could tell he had a vigorous workout routine to keep in shape and make it look as good and sexy as it did. He was most likely an only child and had been told his entire life how special he was by his parents, teachers at school, girls, etc. That gave him a large ego and confidence and a whole lot of arrogance.

You could tell he was spoiled and got his way and could get away with murder just by using his good looks and charm. He was using all that on me right now; his good looks, his charm, his confidence, and his arrogance. I wouldn’t say it was working, but damn if I didn’t want to run my tongue over his abs and smooth chest, which only had one small patch of dark chest hairs on it. Right in the middle of his chest between his nipples.

Another reason why he wanted to see my breasts was that I have fantastic breasts! They are thirty-eight DD cup size. They are tipped with flesh-colored areolas about the size of a half dollar and nipples that get large and pussy when erect. Even the top of my scrubs I was wearing could not hide the size and was tight across my chest.

I looked over the boy’s body and decided to call his bluff. I thought he was bluffing and for all his arrogance he would not know what to do when an older woman called him out.

“I’ll flash them, but just flash them and no touching,” I told him.

“That’s, not fair,” he replied. “If I can’t touch them then let me see for longer.”

“Okay, twenty seconds but no touching,” I told him.

“If I can’t touch them, then a minute and you have to kiss me,” he countered.

Johnny and I negotiated back and forth and we agreed to me showing him my breasts for twenty seconds, he got to touch them, and I had to kiss him. The kiss would be no tongue and no open mouth.

Johnny got more than he originally asked for. I was not a good bargainer or haggler at all and got flustered and nervous when I had to negotiate. Years before when I went to Mexico, I was buying a souvenir from a street vendor and after a short period of haggling over the price, something the friend I went with told me I had to do, I ended up paying more than the original asking price. The man had finally said six dollars and I countered with, “Ten and no more”. He happily took the ten US dollars.

I bit my lower lip, a habit I had when I was nervous, lifted my top, and then pulled my bra over my breasts. I was staring at Johnny’s face as he stared at my chest.

“Fuck, they are so huge and fucking great,” he told me. “Damn look at those nipples. They’re fucking hard”

I blushed at his comment because my nipples were indeed erect. “Okay, Johnny the twenty seconds starts now,” I told him.

Johnny was grinning at me and reached out and roughly grabbed my breasts with his hands. He mashed them hard and I winced.

“Not so hard,” I told him.

“Fuck, Gwen, you have awesome tits and the freckles on them are sexy,” he complimented me and continued to squeeze them, ignoring my telling him not to do it so hard.

I flinched and let out a faint gasp when his fingers touched my erect nipples and then a moan when he pinched my nipples. The moan turned into a louder squealing sound as Johnny’s fingers applied more pressure to my nipples and pinched them cruelly and mashed my breasts even harder.

“Uhh…okay, oaky, uhh…that’s enough, Johnny” I gasped out. It hurt but turned me on also.

Johnny pinched them even harder for about five more seconds and then pulled them until they could not stretch any longer and let go.

“Oww, that hurt,” I whined. It did hurt but that type of hurt gave me pleasure and aroused me. The boy just chuckled at my distress.

“Now the kiss and you have to keep your tits out.” I nodded. “Also press them to my chest when you kiss me,” he told me. I again bit my lower lip as I nodded my head.

Johnny spread his legs open and I took a step forward and got between his legs. I pressed my breasts to his naked chest and moved my face to his. Johnny moved forward slightly and my lips touched his lips. As we kissed chastely, I felt his right hand slide up my left side and then over my breast and once more he pinched my nipple. This time he didn’t pinch it hard and he started rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. I gasped out in pleasure and when my lips parted, Johnny stuck his tongue into my mouth.

I didn’t stop him or pull away. Instead, I opened my mouth wider and ran my tongue over his as I pushed mine into his mouth. Johnny put his left hand on my butt and pulled me closer to him and I placed my arms around his lower neck. We started making out as he teased my nipple.

Damn, the boy knew how to kiss. I highly enjoyed kissing and considered myself an expert on kissing and judging how others kissed. Sometimes I would make out with a person just to kiss them and nothing else. Like if I was at a club dancing with someone, a girl or boy, and had no intention of having sex with them, I would kiss them just to kiss. Yes, I know, it can be considered me being a tease, but I didn’t care.

Things with Johnny were going too far, I knew that and I knew I should stop it. I didn’t stop it, however. It had been over five months since I kissed someone and I was enjoying it, maybe a little too much. I was about to stop it until the boy started kissing my neck, fondling my nipple harder, and squeezing my butt cheek.

“I want to fuck you, Gwen,” Jonny told me. It was not him asking. He was telling me.

“No, please, Johnny, not here. We have to stop.” I told him with little conviction in my voice.

Johnny pulled his head back, put both of his hands on my butt, and looked at me. He was giving me such a charming, boyish smile. I placed my hands on his shoulders but didn’t pull away.

“What do you mean, not here?” he asked in his arrogant tone.

“I…nothing…I…I didn’t mean anything by it,” I stammered out.

I should not have told him “not here”, but I was just caught up in the moment. As I mentioned, it had been over five months since I kissed someone and let them feel me up or had sex with someone. I was just lost in the moment, I told myself. That was a lie though and I knew it. I wanted him, but not there in the examination room. I wanted this hot and sexy eighteen-year-old boy to fuck my brains out.

Johnny knew I was lying, I was sure of it, and his next actions confirmed what I thought. The boy ran his hands up to the small of my back and pulled me to him as he lowered his head. Johnny started to kiss, suck, and lick my breasts. I placed my hands on his head and started running them through his hair as I moaned in pleasure.

“Not so much,” I told him as he started to suck my right breast in one spot just above the nipple. “You’ll leave a mark.”

He didn’t stop. Instead brought his right hand to my left nipple and started pinching it with intense pressure and pulled on it, stretching it. I started gasping in short breaths. He was going to purposely leave a hickey on my breast. I let him.

After he had marked me, Johnny took the nipple in his mouth, bit down on it hard, and caused me to cry out from the pleasurable pain of it. He held my nipple between his teeth for a moment while he continued to pinch my other nipple and mash my breast hard. I was moaning louder from the wonderful feeling of the cruel attention he was giving my breasts.

Johnny took his mouth off my nipple but continued to pinch the other one. He looked up at me and grinned with arrogant, confidence. He knew he had me now.

“Tell me what you meant by not here,” he said.

“Ohh…baby….okay, okay,” I gasped out. “Just…just please stop for a moment, please, and I’ll tell you.”

Johnny took his hand off my breast and put them back on my butt and held me tight to him as if he thought if let go of me I would run from the room. That might have been the right thing to do, but I was too far past that point.

“I…we can’t do anything here. We shouldn’t be doing what we are doing,” I told him in a timid voice that was slightly husky from being aroused. I cleared my throat before I continued. “If, well, I was thinking if, well,” I was stammering and took a deep breath to calm myself. “Maybe if you want to you could come over to my house later tonight and we could hang out.”

Johnny chuckled. “Hang out,” he mocked me. “So you do want me to fuck you,” it was not a question but a statement. He did sound surprised I invited him to my house.

I bit my lower lip and nodded. Why deny it? Things were already going in that direction. “We can take our time and won’t be rushed,” I told him and gave him a seductive smile. “You can have me as many times as you want. We can do so much more than just a quickie.” I leaned down and kissed him hard and passionately for a few seconds and pulled my head back. “A lot more.”

“Like what?” he asked.

The boy didn’t sound as confident as before. Johnny didn’t realize when he asked to see my breasts that I would let him. What we did after was as much of a surprise to him as it was to me and now after I admitted I wanted him to fuck me he was losing his arrogance.

“What can you imagine,” I teased him. I knew I had the upper hand now.

Johnny looked me in the eyes, then my still exposed breasts, then in my eyes again, and then back to my breasts.

“I have a good imagination,” he teased me back but with less arrogance than he had been showing.

“So do I,” I said smiling at him.

“What…what if…what if I want to do something else besides just fuck your pussy?” he asked and sounded timid.

I tiled my head seductively. “Like what?” I asked.

“I…what if I want to fuck you in your fat ass?” he blurted out. “I…I have never done that.”

Well, I don’t have a fat ass. Sure it’s ampler than those skinny girls he was used to, but it’s not fat. I was not ashamed of it and thought it was voluptuous, not fat. I liked my ass and I didn’t have any fat lines under my butt cheeks where the back of my thighs met them, I didn’t have cellulite or stretch marks; which was great for a woman that was forty.

The only blemishes I had on my butt were some large freckles and I didn’t see them as blemishes. I was not ashamed of the freckles that dotted my body. I found them sexy.

“We can do that,” I promised the boy with an alluring tone to my voice. “I don’t mind being your first there.”

I didn’t mind and I did enjoy anal sex. Johnny would not be the first boy that I was the first time anal sex for. I enjoyed being that and found it erotic and a turn-on to be a boy’s first butt fuck; or a girl’s for that matter.

While I was not into virgins, I don’t think any of the young lovers I had were virgins unless they lied to me, I found it arousing to be their first in other things. I enjoyed helping young men or women fulfill their more taboo sexual fantasies they may have; at least to a degree. I do have my limits.

Not that I would refuse to have sex with a boy who was a virgin. A girl that was a virgin, well that would not sit well with me, being the first woman she had sex with was different, but I would not like to take a girl’s virginity.

“I don’t believe you,” he said as he was staring at my breasts. “You will give me a fake address or something.” Johnny sounded like he was pouting.

His confidence was gone now and he was acting like an eighteen-year-old boy who was confused that an older woman wanted him to fuck her and also allow him to fuck her ass. I won! Oh, I still wanted him to fuck me and I was not going to give him a fake address, but it felt good to win. If he did agree to come over to my house, I would let him be in control then.

“I won’t, I promise,” I assured him.

“I still don’t believe you,” he told me. “Let me fuck you now and then I will come over to your house later this evening.”

“We can’t do it here, baby,” I told him. “Someone may hear us or worse walk in. I could get fired. We have already spent too much time in here and I am sure people are getting impatient and want to go home.”

The being fired part was a lie. I would not get fired if we got caught. I didn’t even work for the doctor’s office I was helping a fellow nurse with. I worked for a different doctor in the same building. Yes, if we got caught I would get in trouble and then gossip would fly around the building that I was some older woman who preyed on younger boys. It would be humiliating but I would not get fired. At least I didn’t think I would.

Johnny quickly reached up and grabbed my wrist and pulled it to his crotch and placed it over his cock. I could feel his erection over the material of his underwear and shorts. My hand seemed to have a mind of its own and I gripped it gently and started to run my hand up and down his shaft. The boy then took my breasts in his hands and once more started pinching my nipples hard. I whimpered but kept rubbing his penis. I just couldn’t seem to let go of it.

“You got my dick hard, Gwen,” he told me. “You need to do something about it right now.”

Johnny’s arrogance was on its way back. I was rubbing his cock and letting him pinch my nipples hard and that gave him confidence once more.

“Uhh, not here, please, not here,” I whined out from him pinching my nipples.

If I wanted to control the situation, I had just made another mistake, one of many that day. I was still rubbing his cock and letting him be hurtful to my nipples, and I had whined out and pleaded with Johnny by saying please. The boy picked up on that.

“You fucking like this don’t you?” he asked. “You like me hurting your nipples, don’t you?”

I bit my lower lip and shook my head. He didn’t believe my lie. Johnny chuckled and pinched my nipples harder and more cruelly by pressing the fingernails of his forefinger into them against his thumbs. I made a loud whimpering moan that I was afraid someone outside the examination room may have heard.

“Liar,” Johnny told me. “You do like it or you would have me stop. You’re a freaky old whore aren’t you?”

He was not relenting on the painful pressure he was applying to my nipples and even started painfully pulling at them. But he was right, I didn’t tell him to stop and I didn’t try to stop him. I was not able to tolerate the boy’s pleasurable torture of my nipples because my nipples are less sensitive than women who had smaller breasts as some people would believe.

My nipples are quite sensitive. I never did a survey or an experiment to judge a women’s nipple sensitivity based on breast size, but I was quite sure mine were just as sensitive as a woman with small breasts. There are just some types of pain I get sexual pleasure from and that excites me sexually and just excites me in general and gets my adrenaline pumping through my body. What Johnny was doing to my nipples was one of those types.

“I’m not a whore,” I protested. My voice was weak sounding. I was still rubbing his cock. “And I am not that old.”

Johnny laughed at me, pulled my nipples one last time, and let them go.

“Yes you are,” he answered and I felt his hands near my hand that was on his penis. He was unbuttoning his shorts. “I am only eighteen and you are what, thirty-five or so?” I was forty but liked how he thought I was only thirty-five so I did not correct him. “So yeah you’re old. Then you are showing me your huge tits, kissing me, letting me play with your nipples, invited me to your house to fuck, and said I could fuck you in your fat ass and we just fucking met. Plus you are getting off on my hurting you. That’s a freak and a whore for sure.”

I did get off one pain to a degree and him calling me a whore, old, and even calling my ass fat turned me on. I liked younger men to dominate me to a certain level.

I have several fetishes or kinks that my stories will get into, but I am not a masochist and I don’t have a high pain tolerance. God knows I didn’t want anyone sticking needles through my nipples. I actually think I have a lower tolerance to pain than most people. I have asked thousands of patients throughout my career to look at the smiley face pain level chart and describe their level of pain. When they did and based on their ailment I would be surprised they could tolerate that much pain. Of course, that type of pain was a lot different than the sexual, sensual pain I enjoyed.

The turn-on I got from such verbal humiliation was also part of being dominated which aroused me. Now I am not some timid, weak-minded, and weak-willed woman who is a pushover and lets people walk all over her. I am strong-willed and stubborn and stand up for myself and don’t let people push me around. A man who calls me a whore or bitch or calls my ass fat when not in a sexual situation can expect to have his face slapped or his crotch kicked.

There is just something about being sexually dominated that arouses me so much. But there is a strange twist about getting aroused from being dominated. It has to be with younger lovers, male or female. I let younger female lovers take more liberties in their domination than male lovers.

I wasn’t always like this and I didn’t always have younger lovers. My first younger lover was when I was thirty-one and he was seventeen. In my defense, he lied to me and told me he was nineteen and he did look like he was twenty. Our relationship lasted for three months and I ended it when I found out his real age.

Before him, I always had older lovers. The first guy I had sex with was three years older than me, my husband was five years older than me, and the men I dated after I got divorced were older than me. One was forty-two and I was twenty-seven at the time.

Like my preference for younger men I have now, I was not always into being dominated sexually either. I never even considered it or thought about it. I liked masculine men who were in control when we had sex, but not domination. When I was thirty-six was the first time and I discovered how much it turned me on and how some pain can add to or enhance my sexual arousal and pleasure. I was introduced to it by a very unlikely source but that is a different story.

To use a metaphor, the domination I enjoy is like a double-edged sword. One edge of the sword is my enjoyment of being dominated. How I get turned on by having my hair pulled hard, my breasts and nipples tormented, my butt spanked or paddled, or even whipped with a belt. How I get off on my lover forcing me to have sex when I am not in the mood and tell him no but he does not take no for an answer. How he may want to have me give him a blow job or fuck me in an inappropriate place, such as in an examination room of a doctor’s office, and I tell him no we can’t but he forces me to anyway. How he verbally humiliates me by calling me a whore, and a slut, saying my ass is fat and making references about my age compared to his. That is the edge that gets me off.

The other edge of the sword is the edge that embarrasses me, humiliates me, and the pain hurts. I get embarrassed and feel humiliated when he verbally insults me. I feel degraded and like a cheap whore when my lovers make me show off and expose my body to them in vulgar ways. I find the pain intolerable and beg for it to stop. However, as much as it hurts and humiliates me, I get turned on by it from the other edge and I don’t want it to stop.

Not all the sex I enjoy is being dominated; I love the intimate, passionate, love-making type of sex. I love showing affection and receiving affection. I love the intimate moments of cuddling and snuggling and kissing. I immensely love kissing and being pampered by my lover. I get sexually satisfied from both the intimate and the domination equally.

Then there is the more sensual domination I enjoy a great deal. Being tied up and played with more erotically. The type where there is a lot of kissing on my body, teasing me sensually, and edging me over and over until I am begging to cum.

Since I do take younger lovers, many very much younger than me, some are unaware of what it’s like or how to be the dominant type I enjoy, and of course, they don’t know that side of me when we meet and start a sexual relationship. I like to introduce them to it and show them what I enjoy. It can be a slow process but I find that erotic and sensual.

Of course, not all my younger lovers dominate me, some are just not into that, and I am fine with that. If he or she is not into dominating me sexually, that is no reason I will end a relationship. I will enjoy and get sexual gratification from what I have.

I hope this explains a little more about my sex life and did not bore readers too much.

As Johnny was calling me an old, freaky, whore; which I was proving right by my actions thus far, I was still rubbing his penis while he was unbuttoning his shorts.

“No, Johnny not here, please,” I pleaded and put my hand over his to try and prevent him from exposing his penis.

“You got me all worked up and my dick hard, Gwen,” he told me and moved my hand. “You need to take care of it right now.”

Johnny’s arrogance and confidence were completely back. By my reactions to him, how I let him pinch and pull my nipples, how I rubbed his cock, how I invited him to my house for sex, and how I promised him he could have anal sex with me; Johnny had quickly figured out he was back in control.

While I may have been responsible for his increased arousal, I doubted I was responsible for his hard penis. Johnny was an eighteen-year-old boy and based on my experiences with young boys like Johnny, I was pretty sure he had an erection since he was sitting in the waiting room.

“I…I will, I promise I will, Jonny,” I told him. “When you come over this evening I will take care of it as many times as you need me to.”

I placed my arms around Johnny’s neck and leaned in and started kissing him and he started kissing me back. After we kissed for a moment, I moved my mouth to his neck and started kissing and licking the boy’s neck.

“I’ll suck your dick,” I whispered and started licking his neck again. “I’ll swallow your cum,” I promised and kissed his neck. “I’ll let you fuck me as many times as you want,” I said and licked his neck. “You can fuck me in my butthole,” I told him and kissed his neck.

I was trying to entice the boy to let us end what we were doing in the examination room and making promises to him, promises I did have every intention of keeping.

Johnny grabbed the wrist of my right hand and placed it on his crotch. I felt his exposed hard penis. While I was kissing and licking his neck, Johnny pushed his shorts and underwear down just enough to free his cock.

I made a faint whimper of desire as my hand wrapped around the hard, warm shaft and started running my hand up and down his shaft; just barely touching it and letting my hand glide up and down. Johnny let out a small moan from the attention I was giving his penis and placed his hands around my waist.

“No, I can’t wait that long,” he told me.

I was about to tell him he had to because I was not going to let things go further in that room. I didn’t get a chance to tell him. Johnny ran his hand up my back and grabbed my hair that was tied behind my head and pulled hard. As my head was pulled back I made a whimpering moan of pain and pleasure.

Johnny gave a short laugh at my distress. “I figured you would like that,” he told me.

Based on the type of whimpering moan and the look on my face and in my eyes, it was easy for even an eighteen-year-old boy to determine that I did enjoy it.

“If I could wait that long I would just leave here and go fuck my girlfriend,” he told me as he pulled my hair.

I was unaware he had a girlfriend, not that it mattered to me. I still wanted him to come to my house and fuck me. He would not have been the first young man I took as a lover who had a girlfriend or even a younger girl who had a boyfriend for that matter.

“I would rather fuck her anyway instead of your old, worn-out, skanky pussy,” he continued. “Now get on your knees and suck my cock.”

Johnny let go of my hair and put both arms around my waist again. I looked down at his crotch and saw his exposed penis as my hand still ran up and down it, even when he was pulling my hair. I looked back up at the boy and bit my lower lip.

“I…it…can we make quick?” I stammered out.

“That depends on you,” he told me.

I turned my head to the right and looked at the door to the examination room. “I need to lock the door,” I told Johnny as I tried to break free of his grasp.

Johnny held me tighter. “I’ll do it,” he told me. “You may try and leave the room.”

I was not going to but he did have a point. I could have used it as an excuse to leave the room.

Johnny let go of me, stood up, pulled his shorts and underwear back over his body, and walked to the door. I sat on the edge of the examination table and watched him as I lowered my bra and top back over my breasts. The wire in the bottom of my bra was digging into my breasts and was becoming uncomfortable.

After the boy locked the door he turned back to me and took a few steps and stopped in the middle of the room and looked at me.

“Come over here and get on your knees,” he told me as he again unbuttoned his shorts and pulled them and his underwear down.

his time he let them drop down to his ankles. My eyes focused on his hard cock jutting out from the patch of his dark pubic hair.

“It…the floor s hard and will hurt my knees,” I complained.

Johnny just grinned at me. “Well you better make me cum fast then,” he told me.

I again bit my lower lip, grabbed one of the two small pillows off the exam table, and walked over to the boy. I dropped the pillow at his feet.

“Lift your top and bra again,” he ordered me. “I want to see those huge tits as you suck my cock.”

When I was standing in front of Johnny, I raised my top and bra to expose my breasts to him again. I then got on my knees on the pillow and took his penis in my hand and looked at it again.

He had a nice looking penis, well of course he did, he had a nice looking everything. It was average in size and girth or maybe a tad bit above average. I guess about seven inches. The shaft was smooth and the tip of his cock was nicely shaped and did not mushroom out over the shaft.

The size suited me just fine. I was not a size queen as I have heard the term used for a woman who preferred a large penis. An average-sized penis suited me very well and gave me wonderful sexual pleasure, especially when it came to anal sex. Of all the lovers I had, only two were above average in size. Not to promote the myth, but they were on two black men I had been a lover, too, well lover is not the right term. I was more of a fuck toy and booty call for them and while I never asked and didn’t want to know; I am pretty sure a conspirator to at least one of their criminal activities. Again, That is another different story.

They were not my first black lovers. I have been with four black men. One was when I was in my first year of college I dated for close to a year before I met my future husband. The second was the forty-two-year-old when I was twenty-seven. They both had average size cocks that satisfied me extremely well. They proved, to me at least, that not all black men are well-endowed. Not that I cared or even thought about it, a man’s penis size is unimportant to me.

I wanted to tease Johnny’s cock with my mouth and tongue and hands. I wanted to enjoy it and suck it sensually and seductively and make love to it with my mouth, but I didn’t have time for that. Instead, I just got right down to it.

“Just your mouth,” Johnny told me as I was about to put my lips around his cock.

I let go of his penis, put my hands on the boy’s cute, tight butt, opened my mouth, moved my head forward, and took his cock into my mouth. Johnny placed his hand on the back of my head and I started to give him a blow job.

I started bobbing my head back and forth quickly in hopes he would orgasm fast. It was not that I preferred doing it that fast; I enjoyed sucking a man’s cock for a long time. I just needed him to cum fast since we were not in the most private of places. I deep-throated him a few times, gagged once the first time, but did not gag after that. Since I was going at a fast tempo I didn’t control the saliva in my mouth as well as I could have and it started running out of my mouth, down my chin, and over my breasts.

I was surprised Johnny didn’t grab my hair and force me to suck his cock or just fuck my mouth, things I did not mind at all. He didn’t, however, and just held his hand on the back of my head lightly.

“Ugh, fuck, woman,” Johnny grunted out in pleasure. “Ugh, God damn, you sure know how to suck cock.”

He did grab my hair after that comment and held my head still with about three inches of his penis in my mouth. I looked up at him.

“But I am sure you’ve had a lot of practice sucking cock, haven’t you?” he asked.

I knew it was a rhetorical question to humiliate me, but with his penis still in my mouth, I nodded. Johnny let go of my hair.

“Get back to it, I’m close to cumming,” he told me.

I did and he was right, it was not long before he had his orgasm. I felt his butt cheeks tighten and he started grunting manly grunts. I started bobbing my head back and forth faster, anticipating his cum shooting into my mouth. God, did I want to taste and swallow his boyish, masculine sex fluid!

Instead of cumming in my mouth, however, Johnny pulled my mouth off of him by pulling my hair. I winced from the pain and looked up at him. The look of ecstasy on his boyishly handsome face excited me.

“Ugh, ugh, fuck, bitch, I’m going to cum,” he grunted out and I looked back to his cock.

Johnny was stroking his penis hard and fast. It was glistening from my salvia which helped lubricate it to give him that extra pleasure as he jerked his cock furiously. I watched as I opened my mouth in hopes he would shoot his cum inside it, but he didn’t. Johnny pointed his cock at my breasts and I watched as his fluid exploded out of his cock.

The boy had an abundance of cum that shot out of his penis. The first four times it came out thick in a rope-like fashion, each time landing over my breasts. As he kept cumming, his thick, warm, sticky cum sprayed out more erratically and landed on my breast, my bra, and the top of my scrubs. I watched each ejaculate and listened to his series of masculine grunts.

When the boy’s orgasm ended, he was panting some but not breathing very hard. Derrick reached down and wiped the hand that he has used to jerk himself off with on my face. I was looking up at him and he chuckled at me.

“What. You didn’t think I was not going to miss the chance to shoot my load all over those huge fat tits did you,” he told me. I just shook my head.

I was hoping he would have cum in my mouth because I wanted to taste his cum badly, but it was not too late. Staring up at Johnny, I ran two fingers of my right hand over my breasts and gathered up as much of his cum as I could in them. When I lifted my fingers and brought them to my mouth, I noticed there was a thick strand of his cum about four inches long dangling from them.

I tilted my head up, stuck out my tongue, and held my fingers above my mouth. The thick strand of his sticky fluid just barely touched my tongue. I slowly lowered my fingers so the cum gathered on my tongue. I then started licking my fingers clean of his cum as I looked up at the boy.

His reaction was not what I expected. I wanted him to think it was sexy, that it was erotic, and that he found it a turn-on for him. Instead, he looked at me with a hint of disgust on his face.

“And you said you weren’t a whore,” he told me as he was pulling up his underwear and shorts.