Mona's Hot Secret Life

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Part 1: Hot Archaeology

Kurt walked up to the bar and ordered his usual vodka and soda with a lime. He needed a drink. His luck with relationships hadn't been so good lately, and the fiasco with this last cheating girlfriend nearly killed him. It was time to get back out and forget about it. Dating and relationships aside, Kurt still knew how to get pussy, and that was probably the best medicine for him at this point. He was a fit, handsome square-jawed guy in his late twenties. He never had problems getting women, he just had problems carving out meaningful relationships with them.

There were droves of beautiful women in this beachfront Florida town. In fact, they seemed to be everywhere. Something about beachfront condos and burying their toes in soft white sand brought them to this place like a holy pilgrimage. If Kurt couldn't get pussy here, with a hot real estate agent and heavy problem drinker, he would need to have his dick surgically removed and donated to someone more deserving.

The sandy beach air had dried his contacts and he'd taken them out. Nonetheless, he scanned the room sipping his drink. He hadn't been sitting very long when the door to the pool deck slid open. Walking in from the pool and making her way to the bar was an absolute vixen. She had long blond hair. She wore a white see-through ruffle gown flowing down to her feet. Underneath the gown, all that covered her was a skimpy bikini, and the spaghetti straps of the top were being strained to their limit by two juicy, bulging bimbo tits.

'Fucking WOW.' Kurt thought to himself. His pulse picked up as she took a seat across from him at the bar. He couldn't believe he'd only been there a few minutes before the platinum package walked in.

'Welp. No point in sitting around. Time to get to work.' He coached himself through internal dialogue. He got up out of his seat and walked to her. As he approached, his mind worked on what to say to her. As he got closer. His near-sightedness was sharpening, and he was getting a clearer image of this woman.

As he rounded the corner of the bar he saw her more clearly and nearly stopped.

'Wait, what the fuck?' he thought to himself. She was old. Old enough to be his mother. Despite that banging body, she had the telltale signs of age around her lips and the corners of her eyes. Those delicate lines in her neck that creased when she lowered her head. She must have been mid-to-late fifties in age.

'Abort abort abort!' He thought to himself. He wasn't out tonight to get... grandmussy. He imagined it probably tasted like Werther's Original. He diverted his path and went to walk around her. But before he could get past her, he took another look. On second glance, she really was quite beautiful. She crossed her legs gracefully and she was wearing these sexy bohemian flat sandals. Her nails were perfect. Enticing jewelry dripped off her delicate wrists and around her neck. Long gold earrings dangled from her ears. He hesitated again.

Of course, during all this internal deliberation she had completely busted him checking her out, and couldn't help but notice he was frozen like a prairie dog. She turned to him smiling and said sweetly;

"Well hello. Would you like to sit down?"

"Yes ma'am." He said without thinking. Oops. He froze again when he realized what he'd done.

She smiled warmly and said "Don't worry, I forgive you... But don't do it again." And she slid a stool over, inviting him to sit.

He took a seat, surprisingly nervous. Now that he was right next to her, his near-sighted eyes could really take her in. She was graceful. Although she'd clearly had some work done, there was natural beauty all over. Her juicy wrap-around-your-cock lips were lovely, and looked like they felt amazing. The lines in her face and neck weren't a turn-off at all. They gave her softness and warmth. Any blemish from her age was totally offset by those gorgeous, tight, juicy jugs hanging from her chest. You could've mounted them on a skeleton and they would still look good.

"What's your name?" She asked him.

They introduced themselves. She said her name was Mona.

Now THAT was a hot old lady name. He was expecting something like Beatrice, or Agnes, or maybe Millicent. But Mona, it was a lovely name. He introduced himself and they began to chat. He excitedly ordered her a drink once the bartender was in earshot. What was happening here? Could he really not play it any cooler than this? The Korean War Vets at Bingo Night probably had smoother game than this. He was acting thirsty. He needed to get a grip.

They talked more and he became even more intrigued by her. He asked what she did for a living. She simply said she was "retired", but she didn't say from what. It turned out she was an artist. She loved to sculpt and paint. Kurt lit up. He loved art, and he was an art minor in college, so he could actually speak to it. He slid his stool closer to get more cozy with her.

She fished her phone out of her purse and went off babbling excitedly, bringing up her favorite art pieces. Kurt did the same on his phone. They were having a blast. Laughing and smiling, sharing their passions. Kurt tried to cook up a comment about what fine taste she had, and then a dirty, flirtatious punchline to follow it, but he couldn't. He was enchanted with her. He adored her.

They enjoyed each other for hours, nearly closing the bar down. When it was time to leave, the bartender dropped the tab off. He reached for it, but she snatched it away before he could get it.

"Please! Let me." It looked like she was into him too. She rummaged in her purse and took out a pair of glasses, then slid them onto her nose to review the tab. Now the age thing was hitting him like a train. She looked like a librarian. She tapped on her phone with her long nails to calculate the tip. Underneath her alluring jewelry, her wrist was wrapped in compression tape. It looked like she'd injured it.

'Hmph. Osteoporosis.' Kurt thought to himself. She must have strained it opening a pickle jar. Those lazy home care nurses are never around when you need them. Even still, this woman was so hot it'd be well worth flicking some cobwebs off to get into her guts.

He had made dozens of these old lady jokes in his head since meeting her, but he was gradually steering away from them. Age aside, he was enthralled with this beautiful, graceful woman. Was he really doing this? He'd never been with an older woman before, but if this unicorn fossil was any indication, he could definitely get into it.

As he watched her scribble on the check with a fancy rhinestone studded pen, he noticed something missing: A rock on her finger. 'No way.' He thought to himself. A woman like this had to be married. Where was the controlling millionaire husband? He looked again and again, but as far as he could tell she was single.

"No rock means cleared-hot for cock." He accidentally muttered under his breath.

"What, darling?" She asked him innocently.

"Nothing! I mean... Thank you for getting that tab. You really didn't have to do that."

"Oh, I was glad to." She blushed. "You've been so wonderful, I've loved this. Also... It's still very early. I'd love to see more of you. Would you come with me to my house and spend the evening with me?"

"Of course." He almost spit the answer out before she was finished.

"Wonderful!" She smiled wide and went to rise from her seat.

Kurt gently took her hand and held the small of her back as she got up. He thought to himself; 'Careful baby. Wouldn't want you to break a hip.'

'Okay.' he chided himself. 'That was the last old lady joke.'

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Part 2: A Gracious Host

Once they got back to her house, Mona sat him down at the bar, poured him a glass of wine, and slipped away to change into something more comfortable. Once she left, Kurt looked around the house and took it in. It was a beautiful house, thoughtfully decorated and full of artwork. Nearly all of it was her own work. Her paintings and sculptures were all fantastic, she was incredibly talented. He noticed something about all her art, and all the pieces she loved from earlier. They were abstract and stylized, but undeniably visceral and sexual. Lots of nudes and human figures twisted together in outrageous, provocative poses. Sex seemed to drip from all of it, even if subtly.

Then he looked across the bar and his eyes lit up. "No fucking way." He said out loud. Right there across from him, shining like some kind of holy grail, was a glass bowl of hard candies. "There it is. I fucking knew it!" he blurted out.

"What, baby?"

Kurt jumped. He didn't see her walk back in.

"Nothi- Oh. My. God."

He was taken off guard because Mona strutted back in adorned in a lighter-than-air night gown that showed all her naked body underneath, and tall white stiletto sandals with little fur straps over the toes.

Flats in town and stilettos at home? Interesting style choice. He was hard just looking at her. All that grace and poise from the first moment he'd seen her was on full display, with even more skin. The sheer thin fabric draped so lightly over her monster tits it looked like he could suck her nipples through it.

"You look... Incredible."

"Why thank you. What a sweet -- and handsome -- young man you are."

Young man? Fuck, now she was doing it on purpose.

She cozied up next to him at the bar. "Tell me more about yourself, baby. Do you have any kids? Have you ever been married?"

"No, no kids. Never married. I was in a long-term relationship until a few weeks ago. My girlfriend cheated on me with my longtime best friend."

"Ohh. Poor baby." Her face was saddened, and she caressed his cheek gently with the back of her fingers. Her gentle touch sent a tingle up his spine and he felt like his hard cock would burst through the seams of his pants.

"Cheating cuts the heart and soul so deeply. I'm so sorry, darling."

He raised his hand to hers and held it gently. He felt better already.

"What about you?"

"No children. But I've had... Three husbands."

Three husbands? That checked out. Mona must've been such a smoke show in her prime that whole zip codes were flocking to marry her.

"I loved them all dearly when they were with me, but none were meant to be. In each case, jealousy and rage destroyed our marriages...Especially with my current husband..."

"Wait, what? Your "current husband??" Kurt interrupted.

This was exactly what he was afraid of. "Oh well, nice knowing you, Mona!" And he jumped out of his chair to leave.

"No! Please Kurt, don't leave. I beg you, please let me explain!"

"Oh, I'll explain it to you. Your jealous, rampaging husband barges in on us together, then he raises a shotgun and puts a hole in my chest the size of a kitchen sink. No, thank you. Good night!"

"Kurt, please!!" She trailed behind him, grasping at him desperately. "You must listen to me! I've separated from him! He's no longer here! He's not coming back!"

Kurt paused. "Separated?? Like, legally separated??"

"Yes! He won't sign divorce papers. He's trying to torture me!" She was starting to tear up, makeup running. "It's so terrible. I wasn't ready to talk about it yet."

"Talk about what?? Did you cheat on him?"

"No!!" Mona recoiled at the thought. "I was so loving and kind to him. I never spoke to or touched another man." She was full-on ugly crying now.

Kurt asked apprehensively; "So, what happened then?"

She tried to pull herself together and told him; "A few weeks ago he found out something... about my past. He was overcome with anger and went into a rage. He tore the house apart. He smashed some of my precious sculptures!"

Kurt looked in the corner and there were a bunch of Mona's beautiful sculptures smashed to pieces. Some of them were on the table surrounded by tubes of glue and a box of tissues. She had been trying to put them back together. Kurt was overcome with sadness at the thought.

"And then..." She raised her bandaged wrist up. Her lip curled in horror as she looked at it. "He hurt me! Oh God, he hurt me!" And she erupted into uncontrollable tears.

"Oh my God." Kurt said quietly. He felt like complete shit. That injured wrist wasn't osteoporosis, or a pickle jar. Her husband had beaten her.

Watching her cry like that put Kurt into unbearable turmoil. He couldn't hold back. He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her in close, and kissed her mouth lovingly, instantly calming her anguished heart. She stopped crying immediately and her tense body eased in relief. He kissed her long and deeply, their hot tongues swirling and mingling. She reached up and stroked his face, running her fingers gently through his hair. When their lips finally parted she was calm, and he gazed at her longingly.

They held each other for a moment. He caressed her shoulders. She laid her hands gently on his chest. Fidgeting with his collar in her fingers, her head down in deep reflection. Kurt couldn't imagine what such a beautiful, kind-hearted woman could possibly have done to drive her husbands into such a rampage.

She sniffled a few more times and he helped wipe the tears from her cheek. She looked up at him with desperation in her eyes.

"Please Kurt, you have to believe me. My husband's name is Bruce. After he beat me, I made him leave the house and I filed for divorce. He's not coming back."

"What was this thing from your past that he couldn't handle?"

"I'm not sure if I'm ready to tell you." She wiped the running mascara from her face and straightened up. "But I want you to know. When he took all his things, he cleaned out his "man cave" downstairs. I took the room and turned it into my... special place. If you come with me. I can show you."

Kurt was way too intrigued to turn her down. He didn't know what the fit of tears would do to his chances of fucking her tonight, but he was still absolutely infatuated with her. She took his hand and led him downstairs.

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Part 3: Memory Lane

As Mona led Kurt downstairs, his mind was spinning as to what this "special place" was.

Maybe it was a scrapbooking studio? That was pretty awful. Maybe she bought a $10,000 Cricut machine with his money or something like that. Or maybe she started crocheting. She probably made him some ghastly sweater and made him wear it out. That sounded like something that would put a man into a rage.

Kurt was about to find out it wasn't either of those things. When Mona got to the door, she put her hand on the doorknob and paused. She looked up at Kurt with anxious eyes. Without a word, she swung the door open and gestured for him to enter. He looked at her solemnly, then went through the door.

Once he stepped inside, he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks like he'd hit some invisible wall. His jaw dropped nearly to the floor. Hanging on the wall in front of him was a framed poster. On it was Mona, 30 years younger and in her prime, and completely naked. Those luscious cantaloupe tits were popping off her chest, her legs were spread wide, and she was opening up her juicy, wet snatch wide with her fingers. The outrageous expression on her face looked like half her face had been numbed with a tranquilizer dart. There was text on the poster. It said: "MONA LOWD -- VOTED RACK MAGAZINE'S #1 BIG-TIT BIMBO SLUT"

Before Kurt could even process it, he blurted out; "Mona Lowd!?"

"Yes!" Mona answered excitedly. "It was my artist's pseudonym! My 'stage name,' if you will. "

Kurt's mind was spinning. Mona wasn't lying when she said she was retired. She was a "retired" hardcore porn queen.

"Please, go in and see more!" she implored him.

As Kurt looked around, he saw what this "special place" was. It was a shrine. A literal porn shrine dedicated to Mona's vivid career. How had he never heard of her? Then again, there was an insane amount of porn in the 80s and 90s, and the internet hadn't exactly archived all of it. It was plausible that a retired porn vixen could fly under the radar for decades after walking away from the camera. His mind stretched to fathom that the enthralling, lovely woman he'd just met, and the cock-crazed nympho slut on the poster were the same, albeit separated by 25 or 30 years.

He looked at the walls. She had her old costumes on display under glass. Fishnets, big feathery boas, strappy dominatrix gear, outrageous stiletto sandals, nipple tassels, and shiny extravagant jewelry hung neatly for display. Each one was labeled with a little placard telling the year and the movie she wore it in.

Further down the wall, there were awards and trophies. She had won multiple 'Cummy' awards during her time in the spotlight. They said things like: "1989 -- Best Hardcore Actress, 1990 -- Best Fetish Actress: Feet Category, 1991 -- Best Orgy."

Then finally, a shiny glass butt plug under glass by itself. On the end was a gigantic sparkling jewel cut like a diamond. Kurt's lip curled as he thought what that thing must look like jutting out of her ass hole. The placard read: "1991 -- Best Anal Creampie"

He blurted out with a laugh. Fuck, this was raw shit.

"Do you like it!?" Mona asked him excitedly. She was beaming with pride. "It was such a wonderful time and I enjoyed it so much. Sex is the highest form of art. The truest and rawest display of passion and pleasure."

Kurt smirked at her. He had to admit, he kind of loved it. And he loved the idea that he was hooking up with a former porn goddess. He smiled at her shyly, not quite able to say anything yet.

Mona was giddy with joy. "Sit down! Over there!"

She had a comfortable-looking plush chaise against the wall in front of the TV. It looked custom-made to be fucked on. She led him excitedly to it and had him lay down. She scrambled to the drawer beneath the TV, got out a cardboard box, and hurried back to him with it.

It must've been hundreds of her porn movies. She had a copy of each one she'd ever starred in. "Wet Vixens 2, Dripping Sluts 7, Raw Cock Addicts 2, 3, and 4, Punish My Shitpipe 5... There were too many to list.

"I got my start doing pulp horror and indie sci-fi movies." She handed him an autographed movie still of some kitschy sci-fi movie called "Alien Worm Feeding Frenzy." On it was young Mona in a nearly microscopic bikini, getting eaten alive by a huge, cheap-looking foam worm.

"I was 'Sunbather #3. Isn't it wonderful!?"

"Gah!" Kurt jumped. It was a bit of a disturbing scene.

"Well don't worry silly, it's not real."

Mona had an innocence and sweetness about her that Kurt just loved. That's why he was struggling to wrap his head around it all. How could a woman this elegant and refined have a background in... Whatever this was? Then he realized it was all art to her. Above all, she was an artist. And she used any medium at her disposal to express beauty, pleasure, passion, or even fear and terror. That medium just happened to be her tits and snatch.

"I... I really like it." He said to her. "I'm just a little overwhelmed. I didn't expect it."

"There's so much more!" she said. "I didn't truly blossom as an artist until the porn industry noticed me. I was able to branch into so many exotic and enticing mediums."

She rushed to the TV with a DVD in her hand. It had a little heart scribbled on it with a sharpie. "I want you to see..." she said before coming back to the chaise. With remote in hand, she curled up next to him. He threw his arm over her and let her play the video.

Mona had stitched together various clips from all her "work" and made her own little pornstar "Best of" video. Like a behind-the-scenes Cockumentary of all her favorite moments. It started with a scalding hot montage of Mona in various shots: Sucking cock, taking it in her snatch from behind, crushing guys' dicks from on top of them, spreading her legs wide and getting skewered with dick, then finally getting showered by gargantuan cum shots all over her naked body and in every love hole.