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He started up the truck and we put on our seatbelts. The radio came on and quietly played a country song. He put his left hand on the steering wheel, shifted into drive, and then put his right arm over the top of the seats, casually turning toward me as he drove. I could see his armpit hair through the sleeve of his shirt—there was nothing hotter than a hairy man.

“I’m Bobby,” he said, “I should’ve introduced myself earlier.”

“I’m Nancy. Thanks again for coming to my rescue.” I tried to force my gaze onto the road as we drove, but instead I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, off his strong neck and shoulders, the compact muscle beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, and, if I wasn’t imagining things, the bulge at the fly of his jeans.

“Ain’t no trouble. Especially for a pretty woman like you,” he said.

I felt my cheeks grow hot with a blush. I tried to hide it by giggling and holding a hand in front of my face, but I think he knew exactly what was going on. He smiled at me and looked at the road. I let my hands fall in my lap and my damn horniness took hold—I started pressing the heel of my palm against my crotch, pushing against my pussy through my skirt, hoping to give myself just enough satisfaction until I was home and could break out the vibrator.

Bobby took his arm off the top of the seats and let his hand fall in his lap, pressing his hand against his bulge. It felt like the world slowed down as I watched him, almost in utter disbelief that this was happening. Me, a mature woman, masturbating in the car with some young hunk I didn’t even know.

But Bobby reminded me so much of Todd that my mind just wasn’t working properly. I watched Bobby and decided that he was at least ten times hotter than Todd. But I knew I was just so horny that even if there wasn’t that resemblance to Todd, I’d still be careening down this path.

I looked down at his bulge—which he was still massaging—and found it had grown considerably. Bobby had to be huge down there.

I knew I shouldn’t go forward with this, but I just needed sex so badly and Bobby seemed to want it, too. Even if this just ended in me giving him a little road head, it might be enough to sate my desires until I could properly take care of myself.

He slipped his hand under the waist of his jeans and groped himself. I lifted my skirt up to my hips, exposing my black lace panties to him, and slipped my fingers under my underwear. I ran my fingers along the length of my folds, my fingers already wet from my moist pussy.

The truck jerked a bit as he tried to straighten his driving, but his eyes were almost entirely on me. I’ve never felt so emboldened, so brazen. I grabbed my skirt and panties and pulled them down to my ankles, and then kicked them off. I bit my lip nervously and sat back in the seat, waiting to see what Bobby would say or do.

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He tripped on the piled underwear, crashing into me. I fell backward onto the bed and he fell on top of me, his face landing on my tits. He was touching me—he was on me—my God, this felt so wrong, but also so right. His rock hard cock pressed against my thigh and I held his head tight against me until he started to struggle.

He propped himself above me. “Mrs. Hartwell...”

“Susan,” I reminded him.

“Susan...we can't do this. You—you're Tyler's mom.” His eyes burned with lust and frustration. He wanted this—I just had to convince him it was okay.

“It'll be our little secret,” I said. I stroked my fingers down his cheek, then raised my head to kiss him.

My lips touched his and he flinched from the contact, but pulled him down to me, pressing my mouth hard against his. He didn’t move, but he didn’t try to retreat. He tasted like the salty sweat of young men in their prime. I could feel his resolve weakening, crumbling...and then he kissed me back.

Oh, God, how I've needed this for so long.

I grabbed his shirt and pulled him down closer to me. He pressed his body hard against me, driving me against the mattress. He opened his mouth and let me push my tongue in. He had the awkward kisses of someone who was inexperienced, but his lust and desire more than made up for it.

Stephen stroked his hand over my head, running his fingers through my hair. I touched his body, his skin burning hot through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. It had been so long since I'd touched a man, even longer since I've touched a man that I desired so much. The last few years with my ex were largely sex-less and completely passion-less. I was like a starving animal, desperate for a meal. Some distant voice in the back of my head told me I'd regret this when my lust burned through, but right now I didn't care. Right now, I needed this.

I brought my hands back up to the sides of his head and guided his lips away from mine, nudging his head south. He kissed me down my jaw and neck, but he slowed when he reached the cleft between my breasts.

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On the phone’s screen, the jock pulled the MILF to her feet and then bent her over a kitchen counter. He fingered her while kissing the back of her neck, dominating her, turning her into a quivering mass of moans and screams.

Rachel pushed her fingers into her pussy, trying to match the tempo and depth of what she saw on the screen. Her folds parted at her touch and she pushed on into her vagina. Sweat beaded on her brow and rolled down, soaking into her collar. She pinched her nipple so hard she knew they’d be sore for days, and she pushed deeper into her pussy, stabbing her fingers in and out, fucking herself.

Her pussy was sopping wet, covering her hands in her juices, and still she wanted it deeper and harder. Her attention wandered from the video and back to the young man who had seduced her weeks ago, how he had fucked her remorselessly, how he had owned her cunt. She tossed her head back and closed her eyes, thinking more of that day, yearning for it to happen again soon.

The audio coming from her phone changed, so she opened her eyes and looked down at it. Now, the fucking was beginning. The jock eased his cock into the MILF’s pussy until it was halfway in, then he slammed his hips against hers. She let out a lustful yelp and reached behind her to play with his balls as he did it again.

Fuck, I need it bad. Rachel decided to go back to the pub tomorrow night, see if that guy was there again — or if there were any other young guys who were looking for a hot piece of mature ass. Cougars and MILFs are in, I think. I’m prime real estate.

An unexpected movement on one of the security camera feeds caught her eye. She slammed her feet down on the floor and shimmied her pants up and closed them. God-fucking-damn-it! The one time I’m not alone in the building is the one time I do this! She shut off her phone and shoved it back in her pocket.

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Jesse put his hand at his side again and looked around the sauna. He needed something to distract himself, to take his mind off Melissa and her breasts, and the way her nipples had been so hard and pointed and how he wanted to take them in his mouth and lick them and nibble them and then slide his hand down—

“Fuck!” he said and jumped to his feet. He had to think of something else. If he had learned that one of his buddies wanted to fuck his mom, he’d probably kill the guy. If Ryan ever found out about these erotic fantasies Jesse was having, then he knew their friendship would be over — and he might get slugged in the process.

Jesse paced around the sauna, his hard cock sticking straight out in front of him. He tried to focus on other things, the darkness of the room, the heat on his skin, the scorching wood against the soles of his feet ... it was starting to work, his cock was slowly deflating. He approached the pit at the center of the room — it was a traditional sauna, with hot stones and water to pour over them. He ladled out some water and poured it over the stones. It hissed and immediately filled the room with steam.

He sighed and sat back on his towel, satisfied that he’d managed to get his mind off Melissa. He thought, instead, of the next day and the slopes he wanted to accomplish — if he could manage to get the diamond slopes down pat, and he’d managed it decently today with no major crashes, then he could probably attempt a double diamond before their holiday was over.

The door clicked as someone opened it, pulling him from his thoughts. With all the steam in the room and the dim lighting, he couldn’t make out if it was one of his buddies or not, though neither Ryan nor Simon had expressed any interest in joining him for a steam.

Jesse grunted a hello, but the guy didn’t respond, so he just closed his eyes again and leaned his head back against the wall. He felt the flutter of a towel against his leg. The sauna is empty and this douchebag has to sit right next to me? Jesse opened his eyes, trying to figure out how to politely make the guy move over six inches.

His eyes nearly bugged out when he saw who was next to him.

“M — Melissa?” he said, barely stuttering out her name. What the fuck was she doing in here? He suddenly realized he was buck-ass naked with his cock flopping about, so he quickly folded the towel over his lap.

“Hi, Jesse,” she said, sweetly. She was wrapped in a large towel from mid-breast down to high on her thighs. Her hair was tied behind her head in a loose bun and sweat was already beading and rolling down from her forehead, making wet paths to the cleft between her tits.

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I glanced at her and caught her staring—she quickly looked forward, ignoring me. I smiled to myself and continued with my workout. Even if I didn’t bag this cougar, I could still get the thrill of showing off for her.

She got up from her machine, wiped it down, then moved closer to me, stopping at the bench press. She racked her weight and lay on the bench, but before lifting the barbell, she instead sat back up and looked at me.

“Could you...could you spot me for this?” she asked.

I smiled and nodded. “Give me one moment.” I counted out the last of my reps out loud, being sure to grunt with each number. “Twelve...thirteen...fourteen...fifteen.” I grunted and put the weight down on the floor, then stood and flexed my back, stretching out the muscle I’d just worked on.

I walked over and she laid down on the bench. I came around to the other side of the barbell and looked down at her—she was even hotter up close. She was slim, trim, and athletic. Her brown hair, tied back in a ponytail, lay beneath her.

I put my hands just under the barbell and nodded to her—she gripped it, then lifted it off the rack. She grunted and brought the bar down to her chest and then pushed it back up again. I kept my hands just an inch below the bar, ready to catch it if needed, but she forced her way through fifteen reps. I helped her set the barbell up on the rack.

She let out a long breath and let her hands fall down to just above her head—one of those hands brushing against my bulge as it passed. I jerked reflexively, but tried not to make it too obvious. She didn’t apologize...which made me wonder if it had actually been intentional.

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