More Hot Little Bunnies

Noelia Rios and Her Tiny Bikini

I like to stare. Especially when she rolls over to tan her back. Imagine that feast sprawled out on your bed! Those thighs, that perfect little ass... those minky little feet!

Bunnies at the Beach

She Fucks Like a Man (Part One)

"I'm gonna do you a favor," he said. "I'm gonna introduce you to my sister-in-law."

Dick Longly -- and, yes, his name was Dick Longly -- heard my woes, listened to my jabbering about the need for some new flesh. I'd been married for seven years and, like clockwork, the infamous "itch" had crept in. Although his wife was a bit of a sow, Dick assured me her sibling was not only hot, but eager to fuck.

"She fucks like a man," he claimed. "No relationship, no emotional baggage. Just sex. I can introduce you. But there have to be ground rules, like no personal involvement."

Her name was Joanne and she lived three states to the west. She'd visit her sister two or three times a year, staying at the Hilton on her husband's dime. Although she was only around thirty, Joanne's marriage had already frozen into a droning sexless partnership centered around a facade of happiness, the whole suburban gig of kids, social obligations and staggering monthly bills. Joanne's husband earned a healthy six-figures; he gladly let her travel on her own to her sister's while the domestic looked after the brats.

She was an attractive, visibly married woman who pampered herself, arm candy for hubby's business functions. We met at a diner and shared some innocuous chit chat until she asked, "So what do you do for fun?" That was my cue.

Over the next few months we met on three occasions, two of them quickie gigs of three or four hours. But the best was our weekend of fucking and sucking at the Hilton. From Friday night through Sunday noon, with a six-hour break on Saturday for her to hang with sis, we fulfilled a lot of our wants and desires. Joanne had an incredible skill I've yet to find in another woman: anytime after I'd orgasm, she'd wait five minutes, took her hand to my limp cock and made me hard again in a matter of seconds. She knew exactly where to touch and how much pressure to apply. She knew her way around a penis.

"We can say anything here in this room," she whispered. "Whatever you want to say or do, don't feel embarrassed or ashamed. Just tell me."

I slid my dick over her face. "Suck my cock," I said. "I want you to swallow my cum."

She stared me in the eye as her tongue rolled around my hard dick. She squinted when it pulsed inside her mouth. After about five minutes my stiff cock throbbed and I blew my load into her mouth. Whenever I was with Joanne, my cum shots were like something out of a porn movie, blasts as far as three or four feet. When I came in her mouth, a lot of it must have shot right back into her throat. She gulped it down and smiled.

To be continued...

Hot Little Bunnies

Miami Fashion Week Swimwear Spring Summer 2015

The Bucket List

According to statistics, a man my age has anywhere from ten to fifteen years left on this planet; and the past decades have flown by in an instant. Now, do I spend my last years kowtowing to a system I don't completely agree with, or do I pursue the pleasures I've denied myself all along? Let's go with the latter.

After my last call girl I decided to make a Bucket List (a Fuckit List?) of the kinds of women I'd like to have sex with before I die, races and types I haven't experienced, or ones that I'd love to revisit. Naturally because of my particular appetite, I'd like these women to be 18-to-24. My first choice, and hopefully my next appointment, will be with a black girl. I'm a white guy who longs to caress dark skin, especially if she's got that lighter tone on her palms and soles -- that turns me on to no end. Second would be Asian. I've never been with a black or Asian girl. Third would be Spanish/Hispanic/Latina. And then I'd like a nice, rounded white girl who's holding a fair amount of babyfat. I'd like to gently rub baby oil all over her slightly pudgy little body. Slick her up, watch her shine, squirm our naked bodies together and slide my glistening cock into her soft, firm, round ass. Things to look forward to.

Trancing

Rosario Dawson in the film, Trance (2013). Click to enlarge.

Jenna in the Afternoon

While in the past I have had sex outside the marriage, it was when I was in my mid-fifties that I first contacted a call girl service. Here's an account of that day:

    I located them through Google — one of those "elite" services aimed at providing the "discriminating gentleman" with whatever he wants. $225 an hour, $400 for two. And that's just for the visit, not the goodies. The call itself went something like this:

    "Hello?" croaked the voice of a middle-aged woman on the other end.

    "I saw your ad online," I said.

    "Yes?" she asked.

    "I'd like to see about a companion," I said. I felt "companion" was the least incriminating word to use.

    "Oh, yes sir!" she chirped, swung into business-mode and asked me what kind of girl I was looking for. White? Black? Asian? Hispanic? Curvy? Tall? Short? Hair color? It was like ordering a pizza. Not fully prepared, I simply said, "Someone not overweight or underweight. Race and hair color aren't important. Someone pretty, 18- to 24-years-old."

    Are there "pretty" call girls? Well, I assume that, for a price, one can get whatever one wants. Me? I could do the $400 and hope my companion comes with reasonable rates for humping and some very heavy petting. "Jenna's available," she informed me. "She's 5' 6", 124lbs, a little lean but nice."

    "Jenna sounds wonderful," I said and made the arrangements.

    With my wife out of town, I scheduled the meet for the next day at 11am. I figured I wouldn't be able to hold out until any later, fearing I'd frantically jerk off over imaginary encounters and render my cock useless. As it turned out, Jenna was late — very late, by two hours. The service called, asking for my patience while my girl navigated her way through accidents and gridlock on the interstate. Apparently she lived fifty or sixty miles away.

    Again, not thinking clearly, I had her come to the house. Mesmerized by the prospect of young pussy, it never occurred to me that she could be a criminal (which, technically, she was) casing my humble abode. It was only until after she left that I realized she could return to my place with a couple of goons, rough me up and steal me blind. Thankfully, Jenna harbored no such agenda. But in the future, I'd instruct all poon to meet me at a nearby hotel.

    I watched from the den window as she pulled into my driveway at 1pm. I wanted to check her out before opening the front door. When she turned the corner and came up my walkway, my jaw hit the ground as I hissed "Holy shit!" Jenna may not have been Penthouse material, but she could easily do a spread in Hustler. She was, in no uncertain terms, hot. Very hot, from her clingy summer frock down to her stiletto heels.

    She was a friendly white girl with fine, shoulder-length auburn hair, a flat stomach and a pair of legs that went clear up to her smooth, perfectly rounded, dimple-free ass. She was impressed by our upper middle-class neighborhood. "I've never seen so many frikkin' mansions in my life," she gushed.

    First we got business out of the way. "I have to collect $400 for the service," she said dryly. As I was handing her the cash she asked, "do you have a badge?" I assured her I didn't, even though my face, stern, severe and lined with experience and a penetrating gaze, was indeed a cop's face. To lighten the moment and prove my innocence I asked, "would you like to smoke some weed?"

    Her face lit up; she was a stoner. But first there were more financial matters to address. "What do you want to do today?" she asked. After all, the four hundred merely covered the visit. Everything else would be a la carte.

    "I'd like to touch and fondle and caress you naked," I said quietly and directly, "and have sex." It's a rare moment when a guy nearing sixty can say such things to a girl in her early twenties and get away with it. $400 can produce miracles.

    "For that I'd need a minimum donation of $200," she said. And here I was, prepared to spend three times that amount.

    She went into the bathroom to change. "Do you want to see this awesome lingerie I just got?" she asked. After my affirmation, Jenna wanted to know if she should keep her stiletto heels on.

    Of course. Why not?

    When she returned to the living room, I was in awe. She was right about the lingerie — it was awesome, a bra and panties that heightened her sexuality. "I'm a very sexual person," she assured me as she stood, slowly turned and bent over to show me her ass. I sighed and stared. For the next two hours, I touched, pet, caressed, stroked and kissed just about every inch of her body. Her pussy and crack were beautiful and shaved, not a trace of hair anywhere.

    Oh yes, her ass. I can't even begin to describe what heaven it was to dig my face and hands into that beautiful, soft, firm round ass — if this day was worth anything, it was that. She had the ass of a teenager. And her feet — another hot spot for me — were glorious. Her legs, long, long, long and unbelievably gorgeous. All of it: bliss.

    But I couldn't get it up. Between my nerves, the situation, her hot body and my recent, chronic masturbation, I simply could not get it up.

    It was a little awkward for a moment, but our last hour was splendid. With the tension around screwing now out of the way (did this sultry little girl really want my old dick in her?), I feasted on her body, softly and gently. Jenna did not produce fake moans or sighs, she was fairly quiet. But during that last half hour, I was so turned on by her that I did everything I'd wanted to do minus penetration. She got wrapped up in it — it seemed legit because it was so understated. "I had a boyfriend for three years," she said, "and he never appreciated me like that." Just what my ego needed to hear.

    There was some idle chat; she's young with a life full of "drama." She wanted to know if I was going to ask for her again, and I said I would, but, to tell you the truth, when I do this again, I want to sample another girl. From soup to *nuts,* including gratuity, the whole thing set me back $800. I thought it would be more, so no buyer regrets. I probably wouldn't do it again for another six months or a year. I just hope I can remember all of those wonderful spots on her body that turned me on... the feet, the stomach, and that amazing, fantastic ass. God, her ass was perfect.