Trading in a Good Cougar

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Upgrade to a much hotter piece of ass.
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I was thirty-five, single, never married, though close several times, five-feet-eleven standing up, seven-and-a-half inches lying down, so naturally, I was very popular with the ladies while on my back.

Evette was forty-seven, widowed, a very well-preserved five-feet-four, raven hair, with dark,smoldering 'fuck me' eyes. She dressed like a sophisticated slut on a regular basis, both in and out of the bedroom. To describe her as sexually insatiable would give undue comparable credit to all those truly sexually insatiable cougars running loose. Evette's sex drive was on a chart of its own somewhere in the stratosphere.

Yep, there was insatiable, and then there was Evette. I think the best way to summarize my relationship with Evette would be to say that I was somewhere in between her regular boyfriend and her most preferred and convenient 'friend with benefit'. She referred to me cavalierly as her favorite "CAT", an acronym for Cock and Tongue.

Evette had a very high profile and demanding job for a pharmaceutical company that resulted in frequent domestic and international travel, sometimes for weeks at a time. I held a position for a real estate development company as a construction project manager, and as such, I, too, traveled throughout the U.S. extensively.

One of the best of many good things about the relationship between Evette and myself (besides the fact that my cock was in her various orifices constantly, especially her ass, she LOVED anal like no other woman I've been with) was not only were we completely open with each other as far as other lovers, but we each got off on hearing about our respective carnal conquests while we were traveling.

Evette returned from San Antonio and narrated her escapade with two urban cowboys who had tag-teamed her, her first DP, as I fucked her savagely, wildly aroused from the thought of it. Two young Western studs pounding her hungry cunt and ass simultaneously in the bed of their pickup truck under the moonlight in a dusty tavern parking lot.

Conversely, I used to phone Evette when I had visitors to my own hotel room, and her favorite was the redheaded fifty-one-year-old former Hawaiian Tropic Model who we put on speaker phone while she yelled what she would do to Evette's own sopping cunt if she were her with us. (I kept that model's number, by the way, and that's worthy of a coming 'Lit' story, believe me.)

When I returned home from that particular trip, Evette volunteered to pick me up at the airport, and she did so wearing only a long winter coat, heels, garters, and a smile. During the few seconds my cock was not in Evette's mouth as I drove her car back to my home, she expressed her desire to take our antics to another level. She wanted a threesome. She wanted a woman, her first. She asked me what I thought about that idea in between sucks.

Shockingly, I thought it was a very good idea.

She went on to tell me that she had just the partner in mind for us. Her name was Lora, and she had recently started to work for Evette's company, yet in another regional office. Evette had recently met Lora at a conference, and they had become fast friends. Lora was unattached, but shared the same fanaticism for cock as Evette, apparently. Evette had told Lora all about her situation with me, including several photos of my cock that Evette kept saved on her cell phone, and Lora expressed envy and admiration at Evette's ability to harness such an impressive specimen.

During a break in our rousing 'welcome home' sex that night, which I spent buried deeply in either Evette's talented mouth, ravenous cunt, or gaping anus, Evette brought her laptop to the bed and punched the keys until she found a photo of Lora.

If there had been the slightest ambiguity on my part before that (and there wasn't), it would have been completely assuaged when I saw Lora's picture. Thirty-three, long honey blonde hair, green-brown eyes (a bewitchingly fetching combination) nearly six feet tall with disproportionately big and firm tits, and a bright smile that implied 'happy slut'. I expressed my enthusiasm as I encouraged Evette to suck my cock while I imagined it was Lora. The more I called out Lora's name while Evette moaned and slurped her way all over my cock, the more Evette got off herself.

I punctuated my approval by pulling my cock from Evette's lips just before I was about to burst, and shot my urgent streams of cum all over the image of Lora's face on Evette's laptop screen. Evette licked off the drips and drops that cascaded down Lora's bust line, and we had ourselves a plan. Now, it was time for the implementation of same.

We met Lora about two weeks later at a Sunday afternoon picnic held by Evette's company, but circumstances weren't set up so that we could act on it that particular day. Evette had a flight out of Newark to St. Louis later that evening, and Lora was accompanied by a younger jarhead who looked like he just got out of the casting for "Full Metal Jacket". Evette later asked Lora what she saw in the good sergeant, and Lora directly replied, "Over eight inches, just the boy toy of the week."

Though I didn't get the chance to really say anything else to Lora during the afternoon once the perfunctory introductions were made and small talk was concluded, I did not escape my attention that Lora even hotter in person, though she was attired in a loose fitting conservative top and black cotton pants, hiding what was no doubt a spectacular body.

We had to depart early from the function, it was my turn to drive Evette to the airport for her flight, for which I would be rewarded with Evette's now traditional oral gratuity.

Before we left, though, I had a brief window of opportunity to hatch a plan of my own while Evette was saying goodbye to a few co-workers and 'The Jarhead' was off getting his twenty-ninth Budweiser.

Lora saw me approaching and smiled that beaming smile. She headed me off at the verbal pass before I could speak. "I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk, John," she said happily. "I've heard so much about you."

I raised in eyebrow in mock trepidation. "All good, I hope?"

Lora licked her lips and it wasn't my imagination, her eyes made a slow descent down my torso, lingering at my crotch, and then up again. "Very, very good, in fact. It seems you two have a lot of fun." She paused, glancing downward once more. "And adventure. I like fun and adventure myself." She eyed me knowingly. This woman was a player. I like women who are players.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Sergeant Jarhead staring ominously in our direction as he did his best to drain the keg. I had to be succinct. "Um, speaking of, Lora, I'm thinking of throwing a small, little surprise party for Evette's birthday in a few weeks. Perhaps we could get together for some lunch and I could run my thoughts by you, and you could give me the woman's perspective?"

Lora, too, now saw Sarge marching towards us. "Let's do dinner instead, Evette is traveling this week, correct?" I nodded hastily. "How about Monday night at seven? Do you know where Kelly's in Doylestown is? I know it's a bit of a hike for you, but it's two blocks from my house, and I could come right over after work. Meet you there?"

I made my retreat just as Sgt. Hulka and his big toe arrived. "That's so nice of you to say, Lora, Evette would appreciate that, I'm sure." I nodded to the Marine cordially. "It was nice meeting you both, we've got to go now, though, take care."

Evette had taken inventory of the brief conversation between Lora and myself, and tried to coax the context out of me almost as soon as we got in the car and her head disappeared in my lap. Despite two separate blowjobs on the hour-long ride to Newark Airport, the only confession that Evette coerced from me was when she asked me, "You really liked her, didn't her?"

Oh, yeah, Evette, yes I did, you betcha.

"You've chosen wisely," was all I said, though, shooting in her mouth for the second time. Name, rank, and serial number, along with some cum, that's all you're getting out of me, baby. Little did Evette realize that I couldn't get the thought of my pending rendezvous with Lora the next evening, even as I was depositing my seed in Evette's always receptive mouth. I even jacked off on the solo ride home down the Garden State Parkway, such was my anticipation of the coming events, and all of the possibilities with the lovely Lora.

Seven o'clock Monday found me stationed in the corner of the bar at the nearly deserted Kelly's Irish Tavern, nursing a glass of lukewarm white wine, administered by a very disinterested bartender. His interest magically perked up when Lora walked through the double doors. I'd say you could have heard a pin drop, but you probably could have anyway.

Her golden hair was pulled up in a tight ponytail. In fact, everything about her was tight. Her pink button-down blouse that had three buttons opened, exposing the top of her surprisingly ample tits, pebble-like nipples bursting through the thin cotton material, and her designer jeans appeared to be virtually painted onto her thighs, displaying the hint of a prominent cameltoe peeking through the denim crotch. Instant hard-on for me.

I rose from my seat and pulled open the barstool next to me, and began my salutation as she walked towards me. "Hi, Lora, thanks for coming, you look gr.........."

My words caught in my mouth as Lora leaned into me, her firm breasts pushing into my own chest. I had expected her to give me a small peck on the cheek, but instead, imagine my surprise when she cradled the back of my head gently but firmly in her long, manicured fingers, and gave me a soft, slow, deep, smoky, sensual kiss that intensified the longer our lips interlocked, tongues beginning to dance and explore each other's mouths. The kiss lasted for perhaps twenty seconds, but it seemed like an eternity, and I reluctantly gasped for air when she finally released me. I was now irretrievably within her charms, it was the sexiest first kiss that I had ever experienced.

I have a premise that I believe is unassailable. Namely, a woman who can kiss like that is a practiced aficionado and true connoisseur of all oral arts. In the next few hours, Lora was about to further entrench that premise as incontestable, yet with a pleasant twist.

She pulled back from me slowly, and surveyed the reaction that her kiss had evoked within me. "Mmm, Evette was so right, I can tell," she softly murmured, while snaking her hand beneath the bar to initiate a digital inventory of my goods.

I returned the subtle favor, touching her jean-clad ass in my hands, cupping the buttocks softly and raising them, savoring the firmness. "And just what is Evette so right about, do tell, please," I parried, aware that the bartender had become suddenly attentive to the activities on this side of the barren bar.

Lora seductively stroked my already stiff cock seductively, and began to tug at the zipper of my trousers. Was she going to....?

"She told me you have the best tongue ever." I had heard this, in moaning pants, from the source numerous times while providing Evette with substantive oral favors, but it was nice to know that she had played "kiss the pussy and tell" with Lora during girl talk.

"Just what else did you two conspirators talk about, Lora?" I now eased my hand beneath the waistline of her jeans and began to ease my hand now onto her bare asscheeks, under the denim.

Lora ever soooooo slowly took the top of my zipper and eased it down completely, and I looked down to see her long fingers extracting my cock from my commando prison. She made soft purring mews, pleased with herself for being so bold, and she peeked down with me to watch my cock dangle and flap and twitch to her subtle touch, fully exposed yet hidden from view to anyone else under the bar.

"Well, among many things, she told me your cockhead is the size of a golf ball." She rubbed the tip between her thumb and index finger for apparent verification. She nodded in consent as she lazily let her fingers circle the engorged head. "I love to play golf, I've been working on my grip, what do you think, John?"

"I wonder if Tiger Woods ever got a barstool handjob, that's what I'm thinking right now, Lora."

She laughed merrily, never releasing her grip from the titanium-hard shaft of my dick. "Maybe you could tell me all about this surprise you're planning at my house, just down the street a few blocks." My own wood was going to explode onto the mahogany bar soon if she didn't stop, and she knew it, boy, did she know it. "I have a private course inside where maybe we could try few holes together. It's neatly landscaped, curvy, and easy to navigate. But first, I have a question for you." Her nipples felt like pearls as she pressed her tits into my arm, and whispered her inquiry into my ear, nibbling the lobe softly.

I felt her hot breath on my ear as she teased me mercilessly with her bold public handjob. "Who do you think wants to fuck me more, you or your horny little girlfriend Evette?"

Beneath her jeans, I pushed one finger between her asscheeks and twirled my finger, finding the crevice to her anus, and she squirmed and lightly squealed in surprise. With my other hand, I released her fingers from my cock, sparing the janitorial staff a good cum cleaning because I was mere seconds from bursting my seed.

"Why don't we chit-chat about that subject at your home course, Lora?" I suggested. "I can't speak for Evette right now, but I'd be happy to demonstrate my technique and perhaps you can reach your own hypothesis."

I flipped the bartender a nice tip of his own for having the good sense to watch us from afar. He had a vision that would keep his imagination busy for at least the remainder of his slow night, and I let Lora leave first, and he and I watched her butt sashaying sexily in her jeans. He clucked in sincere admiration. "Have a nice night, my friend, that was the quickest pick-up I've ever seen. I've watched that broad turn down guy after guy in here before, one after the other. Well done."

The short walk to her row home went quickly, the air ripe with sexual tension. No, that's not quite accurate, it was more like anticipation. We walked up the steps and entered, and I reached to again kiss her, but she wriggled out of my grasp. "Close the door," she demanded. "I'll be right back."

Lora disappeared into the kitchen while two large cats bounced into the living room to inspect the latest intruder. One hissed at me menacingly, while the other purred and rubbed its furry body lovingly on my leg. The perfect metaphor for pussy, I thought. Sometimes they love ya, sometimes, well, they just don't.

From the kitchen, I heard Lora's voice. "Oh, yes, I've been meaning to ask you, how do you feel about Evette calling you her special 'CAT'? What's that all about, hmmm?" Before I could respond, I heard the click and clack of her heeled sandals on the hardwood floor coming towards me.

I turned around, and there she was, in all of her glory, nude from the ankles up, her honey-blonde hair sans ponytail and cascading in luscious locks over her incredibly full breasts, her huge pinkish brown areola big enough on which to three-putt. She put her hands on her hips and jutted out her pelvis as a runway model would, and my eyes lowered from her flat, tanned stomach, adorned with a navel ring, to the promised land. Her smooth vulva completely shaved, her salmon-colored labia majora protruding through her lips, swollen and puffy and gleaming. Her course was indeed impeccably landscaped.

She half-turned in a 180-degree maneuver, and cupped her milky white ass and pulled the perfect cheeks apart with her palms, exposing her gaping anus, the same colors as her areola, pinkish-brown and oh-so-fucking-yummy. Even the cats turned and stared, two feline pussies admiring the perfect human specimen of pussy, folding their cards, knowing they'd been beat. They scurried from the room, retreating and defeated.

"Cock and tongue, is that the rumor for your little pet nickname?" She walked towards me backwards, motioning for me to lower my trousers, which I obligingly obeyed, kicking my shoes into the air while doing so, the loafers landing with a thud.

She continued to walk backwards, my eyes riveted to the perfect ass in front of me, and she pushed me back against the front door , using only her butt, and barked her next demand. "Play the first hole using your the 'T' club, your tongue." I dropped to my knees and inhaled her musky combination of vaginal and anal aromas as she again spread her cheeks for me, lowering her tight puckered bung hole to my mouth.

"Eat my ass."

I buried my flickering tongue into her asshole and began to lick with a fervor, before being admonished. "Not so fast, not so hard, easy, boy. I like it gentle. And stroke your cock while you eat my asshole, that's hot. Touch that big fucking wang of yours for me."

I complied immediately, while the realization struck me that I was being completely subservient to this incredibly bewitching sex kitten. it was a new role for me, especially with Evette being so submissive herself, I was accustomed to her being unfailingly complaint with my every whim. In fact, I was used to being the one in control with all women, I got off on them acquiescing to my sexual orders.

And now, I was on my knees on a hardwood floor, obediently stroking my cock and eating out the cavernous asshole of a beautiful vixen.

I was hard as Chinese Algebra. I wanted Lora to command me to do anything she wished. My cock and tongue were at her mercy, for her pleasure. It was humiliating to a degree, but stimulating and arousing beyond description, especially when Lora began a verbal taunting.

"Now, then, isn't this tastier than that old, worn-out piece of ass you've been fucking, John? Evette is such an ass whore, isn't she? I'll bet half of St.Louis has fucked her old ass by now on her trip, she's such a fucking ass slut, everybody knows it. And, now, she wants a threesome with me? Well, we'll see about that. I wonder how she'll feel when I tell her her boyfriend was down his knees within minutes of entering my house stroking that big, strong cock of his and eating my own tight ass. Huh? Maybe I'll just keep you for my own and you can be my own CAT. How will she feel about that?"

I mumbled my response up her ass, never more turned on in my life as she continued.

"Or maybe I'll let her eat my asshole out, too, while I ride that big fucking cock of yours, while she watches that golf ball cockhead of yours split apart some tight young pussy, fresh pussy, big firm beautiful tits, not like that washed-up old maid you're fucking. Huh?" She spread her legs farther, pushing her ass into my face so far that my nose felt like it may come out on the other side of her body, to the jewelry on her belly button.

"Maybe I'll keep you for my own," she repeated. "What do you think she'd say about that?"

Since Lora had now asked this same question for the second time, I sensed her sincerity for a reply. I responded by standing up so quickly she didn't have time to react, grabbed her roughly by the hips, and simultaneously plunged my angry, throbbing cock into the tightest cunt I have ever felt in one deep thrust, while sticking my thumb into her fully-lubricated ass, and a combination of saliva and pussy juice shot from her various orifices as she screamed wildly in agony and ecstasy. I spun her around and came on Lora's face and tits before picking her up, my erection never wavering, placing her on my cock in a standing position, and we fucked into blissful exhaustion for the next few hours.

Last time I heard anything about Evette was when I stumbled across her Facebook page, and she had listed as one of her interests, "Men". That is an understatement.

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