A few weeks passed and I haven't talked to him. He texted and called multiple times but I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue on. I was scared; only b...ecause i knew for a fact if I were to go out with him, I'd let him fuck me. I felt like such a dirty little girl, but I've been good all my life. It felt good to finally do something bad. I was addicted. I loved the sensual feeling. So one day, I texted back. And that night we agreed to meet up. He got to my house and I went into his car, straight. I smiled back as I propped myself up on my elbow, with a warm loving feeling filling me!Her hair was down and mussed, her white blouse unbuttoned below the black lace of her triple D bra as she slowly began to move towards me like a cat stalking its prey, her smile morphing into that naughty smolder I so love. As she got closer, I was suddenly overcome with giddy anticipation at the sight of glistening streeks and splatters across her cleavage! My four-foot eleven wife is in her early fifties. Art had a very nice little house at the end of a street, I then follow him in as we went down a few stepsto his Men's Den that was very well all done up in Bikers theme. He told me that " He has just got overa nasty 5 years relationship with some biker brood and he is happy been single again. The beers are going down real good by now as we are both getting a little loaded. I then saw Art get up as he went tothe bathroom, He came out now form taking a piss when I notice his zipper was still down. She looked at him, seeing his handsome face, his hair curling at his neck. He was as tanned as she was, his flesh brown from the sun.When half his beer was gone, he set the bottle on the counter near the sink and faced her, his arms crossed over his broadening chest. He looked at her unflinchingly."You really meant it, didn't you, Mother?" Mean what, Johnny?" About being made... you know, forced, to do those things we did on the way home." I was truthful with you, honey." But why, Mother?" he.