Middle-Aged Fuck Doll: Origin Story

This is the story of a foolish woman who thought romance was only for the young. But romance has certainly changed since I was of that age.

If you've been following my stories then you probably think I'm a self-centered slut. And you're right. But I wasn't always this way. For much of my adult life I was a respectable wife and mother. I had what some would call a normal sexual appetite, maybe even above the average. When first married, my husband and I made love frequently and I enjoyed it very much. The years went by and we didn't make love so often. I assumed that was normal. When the children came along our love life tapered off even more. I figured that was normal too. Then one day my husband decided that we would start using condoms. I knew that wasn't normal.

I engaged the services of a highly regarded investigator. I didn't want to trust my family's dirty laundry to some low budget private eye. What the agency found was even worse than I expected. Let's just say I was glad for those condoms. If I were vindictive I could have raked him over the coals. But he was good to me for the most part and I wanted to stay on good terms for the family's sake. You can be assured, though, that I dictated terms. For three years he was on his best behavior and we kept up the sham of our marriage. When our youngest turned eighteen we divided the assets and went our separate ways.

My professional skills were woefully out of date so I decided to go back to school to get my MBA. Thanks to some acquaintances on the faculty of a small private college I secured a teaching assistantship. Part of my duties was mentoring interns at an accounting firm that partnered with the school. It had been two decades since I worked in an office so this was really as much of an internship for me as it was for the undergraduates. It quickly became clear that for me to succeed I needed to update more than just my professional skills.

I took up Jazzercise, changed my hairstyle and makeup, started adding more stylish articles to my wardrobe. I didn't overdo it. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, just wanted to fit in with the attractive people around me. One area I did indulge myself: my undergarments. Should be no surprise there if you know my story. Lingerie, fancy bras and panties, stockings and hosiery... I loved the way they felt. I loved the way they looked when I dressed myself in the mirror. Wearing these things under my clothes, having that secret, made me feel sexy and desirable. It had been so long since a man found me desirable. I was ripe for the picking.

My new look caught the eye of the firm's junior partner. James, who would later become my new husband, was an attractive and sophisticated gentleman a few years older than me. We hit it off and made it a regular thing to go to lunch several times during the week. Saturdays we would spend together at his country club, playing tennis or golf or just enjoy time together before the evening's dinner and drinks. I was strongly attracted to him. But we kept things on a professional level. I was pretty uptight about appearances at the time.

This story isn't about James though. It's about one of the students I was mentoring. Travis wasn't amazingly attractive and he wasn't the greatest student. But he had manners and style and he oozed charisma. I knew that would take him far. He wasn't a flirt but you could always find him in the company of one or more girls from his class. The female employees of James' firm were not immune to his charm either. And, to my amusement, I would even catch myself gravitating to him at group events.

It was at the last of these group events, for the spring semester, that Travis asked me if I would drive him home. We were celebrating the conclusion of the internship class with a cocktail party. I was abstaining, being still "on the job" but I enjoyed watching the young people sampling the selection of liqueurs in the company bar cart. As the party was winding down, Travis confided that he was feeling impaired and, since his house was on my way, would I mind? Of course I didn't mind. I was pleased to spend another few minutes with this charming young man.

It was dark by the time we pulled up in front of his house. He was telling me about his plans after graduation and as we talked I turned sideways in my seat so I wouldn't have to crane my neck to look at him. After a while, to my utter surprise he reached out and put his hand on my crossed leg and, you know, just gave it a squeeze. I could not believe it. You hear about these things happening to other people. But when they happen to you?

"Travis, your hand."

"You aren't wearing panty hose tonight," he said, not removing the hand. Rather, he began stroking my calf. "I was curious how your bare skin felt."

"Listen, I will overlook this since you have been drinking."

"I'm not actually drunk, Rita. To be honest, I just wanted to go for a ride with you."

Flabbergasted is the only word I can think of to describe how I felt at that moment. I was a forty-five year old woman being groped in a car by a young man the same age as my own children. He told me how he had a crush on me from the moment we met, how he enjoyed watching me make myself sexy all year. And since we no longer had a student-teacher relationship, he thought we might have another kind of relations.

As he told me this his hand crept over my knee and onto my thigh. He was seriously crossing the line and I wanted him to stop. But I wasn't resisting. I realized, in fact, that I was enjoying both his unwelcome attention and the feeling of his hand on my body. Please forgive me, but when he leaned in for a kiss I leaned in to meet him. And the sensation of his lips on mine awakened something in me that has never really gone back to sleep.

I can rationalize why I accepted his invitation to go inside. I was starved for affection after years of loneliness and neglect. His kisses were pleasurable and I wanted more. I can tell myself I was going to make out with him a little, maybe a lot, and then go home. But maybe, just maybe, I was already a whore for young cock and didn't know it. Maybe I wanted what happened next so bad that I would set aside my morals and scruples and even my ethics to get it. Regardless of why, I followed him into his house and joined him on the couch. And as embarrassing as it is to admit, I don't regret it.

We made out, all right. Like teenagers on prom night. His hands were all over me. I made a show of resisting but he wasn't having it. Part of me thought it was wrong. He shouldn't be manhandling me this way. But part of me was thrilled at the effect I was having on him. I could feel his desire in his lips and questing hands and the delightful bulge I felt when some part of my body grazed the front of his slacks. I lost track of time as we wrestled together on that couch, searching under each other's clothing and sighing at the touches.

Somehow he ended up between my spread legs, kissing and licking my inner thighs. My dress was bunched up around my waist and the only thing protecting my flame-red bush was the embroidered lace of my virginal white leotard. My brain was shouting to stop before things got out of hand. My pussy just wanted to go, go, go. Travis worked his way up to my crotch and was licking at my lace, pushing his tongue up under the edges of the garment to try and taste my honey. It felt so good but I was impatient for real contact. I decided to move things along.

"You know how those snaps work, Travis?"

He took a look between my legs and pulled the snaps free. I briefly felt cool air on my kitty, then the unbelievable feeling of a man's mouth. My head sank into the couch cushion and a stream of profanities came out of my mouth as he utterly devoured my pussy. Shamelessly I arched my back and bucked into his face, waves of pleasure washing over me. Three times that sweet boy licked me up to a peak and sent me quivering over the edge. Each time I came he changed his approach. His tongue probed my recesses. His hands touched me in unexpected places.

Finally he sat back and wiped my juices off his face with the back of his hand. He stood up and pulled off his pants. I brought my legs together and drew up my knees in case he tried to force himself on me. He didn't, though. Instead, he lay down on the couch cushions and put his hands behind his head. His oxford shirt lay open where I had unbuttoned it. His chest and stomach were smooth and unblemished. And between his legs an impressive male organ jutted out obscenely.

"Your turn," he said and glanced down at his penis, his expectation clear.

I was having second thoughts. Performing oral sex on a man is a very intimate act, even more so than vaginal intercourse. But I had to do something for him. I moved between his legs and took him in my hand. I thought that maybe I could get him off this way, then get out of there. I started stroking him gently with one hand. With my other hand I touched his legs and hips and belly the way he had touched me.

"It melts in your mouth, not in your hand."

My ears burned at this vulgarity. I guessed I could use my tongue a little bit. I planted my hands on his thighs and leaned in to give him a lick from the base up to the crown. His cock throbbed as I did this and it stood an inch over his belly button, a drop of man-juice appearing at the tip. I gave him another lick, this time extending my path to the tip and letting that glistening drop spread over my tongue. I found the taste neither good nor bad. But the fact that I was tasting it at all was both good and bad.

"Ohh, you have no idea how good that feels." He closed his eyes and sank back in the cushion.

I did have an idea how good it felt. And I felt guilty for denying him the pleasure he had given me. So I resolved to give him what he wanted, then get out of there. I leaned over him and took the head of his cock into my mouth. He gave a reflexive little thrust which triggered a fresh wave of arousal in me. I went up and down on him methodically, my tongue working underneath, hoping I was doing it right for him. By the time I felt he was getting close to coming, my pussy was drenched and aching for relief. What had come over me?

I wondered what I should do when he came. Up until then I didn't give a lot of lip service and I didn't like for a man to come in my mouth. But I kind of thought the occasion called for it. I felt like I wanted to impress him. Maybe if I did that he would be satisfied and we could part friends. The thought of it, the thought of him coming in my mouth made me even hornier. My leotard still hung open at the crotch and I tried to hump at the air to relieve my discomfort. I picked up the pace of my sucking and tried to take him deeper into my mouth. The sooner he finished, the sooner I could get out of there, the sooner I could take care of my own needs.

"Don't stop. Don't stop." He urged as he brought his hands down to hold mine. He met my bobbing mouth with shallow thrusts of his stiff dick.

The moment Travis took my head in his hands my own hand darted between my legs, to my dripping wet pussy and swollen clitoris. His semen filled and overflowed my mouth and a moment later I quivered and moaned in yet another orgasm. When I came to myself again I got up and went to the bathroom to rinse my mouth and splash water on my face. I could have left then, walked right out and headed home to my trusty vibrator. But he met me at the bathroom door and took my hand and I meekly let him lead me to his bedroom.

*****

I had him turn down the lights while I undressed. I was and still am self conscious about my middle-aged body. We got in bed and resumed the exploration of each other, this time unimpeded by clothing. I was naked with a man! I loved the way he felt and smelled and tasted. My body must not have been too much of a turn-off for him. He licked and sucked my saggy breasts. His hands were all over my plump round ass. His fingers probed the cleft between my cheeks. It felt good. His fingertips grazed my little bunghole. I didn't like it but I had to admit it felt good too. Then he tried to stick his finger up my bum and I rolled out of his reach. No sir!

He apologized and, looking at him in the dim light, I could see he was sporting a fresh erection. How long had it been since he came for me? Thirty minutes? An hour? And he was ready again? I guessed there was no way my pussy was getting away unmolested.

"Do you have protection?" I asked him.

"Sure thing," he cheerfully replied, bouncing out of bed to fetch a packet from his night table drawer.

He knelt by my head and told me to lick his balls while he put on the condom. I held them in my hand instead and stroked them with my thumb. This did the trick and he got suited up. Then he climbed on top of me and lined up his cock between my wide-spread legs. It hurt when he pushed it into me. It had been years since I had been penetrated like that. But I was wet and ready and I got over the pain quickly. He didn't have much finesse in his style but wrapping my arms and legs around him, feeling him moving in me, was like riding a magnificent beast. I moaned my pleasure in his ear.

I found I could heighten my pleasure by adjusting the position of my hips as we fucked. I could subtly change the angle he penetrated me, subtly have him touch different places inside me. He took one of my legs and put it over his shoulder which felt amazing. Then he put my other leg over his other shoulder which spread me wide open for him and put me at the mercy of his hard pistoning cock. Pinning me to the bed by his weight on my legs he slammed into me like a jackhammer.

"Come for me, Rita," he whispered, short of breath.

He made me feel really good but he wasn't quite hitting the spot and I didn't want to interrupt him by saying so. So I worked my hand down between our sweaty straining bodies and touched myself just over where he was churning inside me.

"Come for me." And I did. And he did. And we collapsed in a heap.

Just then we heard a commotion at the front door. Travis told me it was his roommates and I heard them calling for him loudly. Panic struck me when one of them tried to open his bedroom door and I dove under the covers. Fortunately Travis had taken the precaution of locking the door. He called out to them and told them he had company. They invited him out so they could meet his company.

"We better not," he whispered to me. "That is, unless you want to risk taking on three guys at once."

His voice went up at the end of the sentence, as if suggesting I might like to do just that. I scoffed at him angrily. But now, years later, I sometimes think about that moment when I masturbate, and fantasize what might have happened if I agreed to open the bedroom door.

We dozed off in each other's arms to the sounds of partying in the next room. All was quiet when I woke again hours later. Travis was rubbing my back and shoulders, a great way to wake up. He rubbed my bum and the backs of my thighs. When he got down my calves and ankles he kissed and nuzzled my cheeks. Very sexy. I was ready for more loving.

"How about we do it doggy?" He asked.

I know people call it that but it was still embarrassing to hear him say it that way. Nevertheless, I found myself getting up on my hands and knees, presenting my ass to him like a whore. I asked if he was going to put on a condom but he said he didn't want to. I didn't like this answer but I didn't want to argue with him about it. So I asked him at least to not come inside me. This was strictly a face-saving measure though. My child-bearing years were long behind me.

Now Travis was behind me as well and testing his grip on my hips. Remembering when he tried to finger me "back there", I looked over my shoulder at him and said, "Don't put it somewhere you KNOW it isn't going to fit."

Immediately I regretted saying it, or regretted saying it in a cutesy apologetic way. It practically sounded like I was inviting him to do it. I was just about to clarify my request when he reassured me.

"Oh, it'll fit. But I won't put it there if you don't want. Damn shame though. I bet you would love it."

With that, he pushed up into me in three impatient thrusts. I was definitely going to be sore tomorrow. Hopefully I wouldn't still be walking funny on Monday morning. I tried not to moan or groan in case Travis' roommates could hear us through the walls. So the only sounds in the room were our heavy breathing and the slap-slap-slap of his pelvis against my ass. He was holding nothing back, just drilling into me. I wasn't worried about my own satisfaction at this point. I just wanted him to enjoy me, get his kicks off, and come somewhere other than inside my cunt.

"You're going to pull out, right?" I asked him over my shoulder.

"Yeah, babe," he gasped, not slackening his pace. "I'm going to pull it out and finish in your mouth. What do you think about that?"

After all we had done I was still capable of being embarrassed. What he was suggesting sounded so completely disgusting I knew of course we were going to do it. I lowered my head and pushed my ass a little farther out to him so he knew who I belonged to. Then I wagged my tail left and right to let him know how much I enjoyed having him inside me. I could hear his breaths come heavier and faster. Then he suddenly pulled out of my pussy and I spun around on my knees to take his spasming cock between my lips.

He didn't overflow my mouth this time. I gulped him down hungrily and kept on sucking him even after his come stopped spurting on my tongue. I licked my juice off the base of his shaft and licked it from his pubic hair and from where it dripped down on his balls. I kept licking and sucking until he put his fingertips on my forehead and pushed me back on my heels. He beamed at me, his semi-hard penis hanging at my eye level. I was so proud of myself for being his good little slut.

Travis didn't waste any time getting me dressed and out to my car. He thought I'd better get home before it was light outside so my neighbors wouldn't see me making the walk of shame. I offered to take him to his car but he said he would get a ride later. I considered inviting him to my place for the day but I really was worn out. He walked me to my car and kissed me through the open window. I told him I was looking forward to seeing him again and he said he would call me. As I drove away he waved to me from his porch and went inside.

*****

I begged off Saturday with James. I couldn't face him. Since the semester was over I didn't have to see him at his office. So I had all week to work out my feelings for Travis. And all week I waited for a call that never came. I drove by his house a couple times. Eventually I called him and left a message on his answering machine. I kept it formal and business-like, as if it were for something to do with school. I imagine he shared the sordid details with his friends, though. Silly of me to think I had any kind of future with him.

The next Saturday rolled around and I had to face the music with James. I met him at his favorite steakhouse for lunch. If there was going to be a scene I preferred it not to happen at his club. Over the appetizer I told him the horrible story. I didn't go in too much detail. But I made it clear I had been willingly seduced and shamefully dismissed. I offered him my deepest apology and if he couldn't stand the sight of me I would step away from the internship program when classes resumed in the fall.

He took it better than I thought. He actually seemed amused by my story. Then he made a confession of his own. "My dear, I can appreciate the appeal of young lust. There is a girl I know. She was an intern, in fact, when I was going through my divorce. She stays in an apartment of mine for free. Well, not entirely for free. She waters the plants. She keeps me company when I need it. And every once in a while she, uh, tunes me up. I haven't visited her since you and I've been dating. But she's still on the payroll, you might say. So I'm as guilty as you are, see?"