Montana and the Mature Pussy Ch. 01

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Even if he didn't, the dear boy was in need of instruction, on how to, provide the needs of a woman. If her own son's were lacking such skills, she hoped some family friend would take it upon herself to instruct them. It just happened that this obligation had fallen on her.

So, there were two good reasons why she was doing what she was doing. If anyone suggested her actions had anything to do with any lustful urges on her part, they were simply mistaken. That was obvious.

Margie freed her mouth from his. He began to kiss her cheek and neck as she whispered in his ear.

"You can kiss my nipples."

And so he did. One, and then the other. He also took the liberty of opening his mouth to get as much of her glorious breasts into his mouth as he was able. Margie offered no objections. If anything, she encouraged him.

"Suck my tits."

Those were her exact words. Surely those were words of encouragement. This was becoming easier than he had imagined. He had decided that if she implored him to stop, he would do just that. He liked and respected her too much to hurt her. Absent any pleas to stop, he felt free to continue.

Her hand on his cock, was unlike anything he had experienced before. It was completely different than when the younger guys played with his prick and jerked him off. Her fingertips traced all of the contours of his cock head. She lightly pulled at his uncircumcised foreskin. Her fingers slid down to his ball sack. She fingered each testicle. She handled them delicately, like fine jewels.

"I know what you want."

She paused, as if considering what it was she would do for him, then spoke again.

"I know what I want. Let's go into the living room."

She led him in to the couch, and pulled his pants down to his ankles before having him sit down. She knelt before him and removed his converse sneakers before pulling off his pants. She removed her blouse and bra so she was naked from the waste up.

Montana was mesmerized. He was staring at the tits that he had considered unattainable. He reached out and touched them, as if he had to make sure they were real.

"I'm glad you like them."

Her hands were were rubbing his legs and thighs. Her eyes were on the bulge in his underwear. Her hand slid up his leg to that bulge, and lightly rubbed it, as if she had to make sure it was real.

Never in a million years had she imagined herself like this with a boy. But she reminded herself, he wasn't a boy, he was a young man. He had the needs and desires of a man. And she was a woman, able to provide those needs and desires. She was slightly more mature than him, by thirty years, but he had chosen her.

She leaned forward, putting her mouth closer to his crotch. Her tits and nipples rubbed against his thighs. She pulled on the waist band of jockey shorts, allowing his cock to show. She closed the distance, and kissed his cock head, opening her lips slightly to use them to nibble. Her tongue and lips gave full attention to the head, and a soft sound came from her throat.

"Hummm"

Then she opened her mouth, and took only the head into it, with her lips just under the corona.

"Hummm"

It was obvious she was enjoying this.

She used her hands to pull down his briefs, below the knees, then off his legs and feet, without losing hold of the cock head.

She looked up, into his eyes, and smiled. He smiled back, and entwined his fingers in her hair.

She started slowly taking his shaft into her mouth and throat. Down one inch below the corona, then up, so only the head was in her mouth. Down two inches, then up to start. Down three inches, back up to start. Down four inches, a pause, a partial circular scribe around the shaft, and a slow return to start. Down slowly, a little further, have to be over half way, no worries so far. Slow return on the up draft, with a pause on top, to work up a little saliva. Another oral down stroke, slowly, lips gliding over his warm flesh, as if savoring every inch. It must be six inches, no gag reflex yet, but Margie was feeling she would soon be entering virgin territory.

From Montana's perspective, this was great. It was obvious she knew what she was doing. Margie was a surprisingly well accomplished cock sucker. Surprising because she was a little league mom, who taught Sunday school classes at her church, and by outward appearances had very little sexual experience. Appearances can be deceiving. Of course Montana had little experience being on the receiving end of a blow job. This was his first, one he would never forget.

She continued her slow movements, up and down. Because it wasn't terribly fat, she had room to use her tongue. It was rubbing, polishing, the length, and the underside of the head. She could taste his precum, which aided her saliva in lubing the moving parts. That would be handy if, no, when, his cock was in her pussy. She was certainly no virgin, but a cock like this might remind her what it felt like, the first time.

She imagined it, up, inside of her. She let out another soft moan.

When she sucked Harold like this, and her husband too, she would look up at their face, and they would have their eyes closed. Probably having a fantasy it was some other woman, she thought. Someone younger, or prettier, or with bigger tits. She knew men did this, it did not bother her.

With Montana, she looked up and his eyes were open, watching her. She was his fantasy. He did not want someone younger, or prettier, or with bigger tits, he wanted her. She was giving him everything he wanted, or she would, as time went on. One step at a time.

As for cocks, she only wanted his. If she was not looking at Montana's face, she often did have her eyes closed, but not because she was thinking about someone different. It was to help clear her mind, to increase the tactile experience. She did enjoy looking into his eyes as she pleasured him with her mouth, but it was a distraction. The experience was more enjoyable for her, and therefore him, when her eyes were closed. She could feel herself bonding with his marvelous love tool. It became a zen experience, empty mind meditation. Her ego, her 'self', melted away to nothing.

Reflecting later she realized her zen experience happened in stages. First her tongue became one with his cock, as if her tongue were a root, or branch, attached to his hard cock. That would extend to the inside of her mouth, as she rubbed the head against the inside of her cheeks. Her mouth and his cock would exchange fluids, his precum and her saliva mixing, giving life and energy to both. Together the parts became greater than the whole. His cock never felt complete, unless it were in her.

He was not aware of this at first. Over the coming weeks and months he knew of course that that he enjoyed having his cock in her mouth, and her pussy. However he also enjoyed it when she held it in her hands, when he rubbed it on her tits. As good as titty fucks and sloppy hand jobs were, they did not make him feel as complete as when their fluids melded.

Eating her pussy would become as enjoyable as blow jobs. His saliva mixing with her secretions, just as rewarding. He did not have his zen experience the first time. He was able to get in the zone after the first few times. He always gave credit to his sensei for awakening his full sexual nature. Because of her he was able to allow the illusion of self to disappear. His ego would disappear into her vulva and clitoris, as if it went into her vagina and was consumed.

She never gave a lesson, or said a word about it. No word spoken. It is that way with zen masters. 'A direct transfer of knowledge. No dependence on words and letters; Direct pointing to the mind of man;

Seeing into one's nature...' By example, he understood. With her mouth, she gave herself over to him. With her pussy, she completed his maleness, his manhood. Through sexual contact he learned the futility of self. It was only in allowing his being to become part of her, that he was complete. He had to empty his vessel into hers, for him to be complete.

But, we get ahead of ourselves. These things did not happen with their first encounter. He did not become her sexual equal the first time she took him into her mouth. Truth be told, she was not her own sexual equal that first time with Montana. With Harvey, Harold, and the few other men she had pleasured, or who had pleasured her, there was not a mystical experience. There was a lustful, sexual experience, that was very rewarding. With Harvey, there was even Love, in its true form. She only became herself, through Montana. She only became aware of her full feminine nature, her full human nature, through this dear, sweet man-child. The student fulfilled the teacher. Neither one would ever forget these first few hours, days, weeks, together. They would never regret their decisions, or actions, regardless of what the future held in store. There was only, Now.

Her slow mouth pumping continued to consume his raw meat. A little more with each down stroke. She was in no hurry, neither was he.

At some point the head of his cock bumped the back of her throat, slightly. With the next pump she gagged, or choked, slightly. Montana was watching her closely, and saw she was not in distress. She held her position, with the head just millimeters away from the tender flesh in the back of her throat. Gingerly she lowered her mouth again (gag), and again (gag), repeatedly, training her body to accept what she wanted, needed. How many times did it take? Neither was counting. It did not matter to Margie. She was resolute. She wanted her lips wrapped around his cock at the very base, pubes and all, nothing less would do.

Montana was brought to the edge, facing the precipice of eternity. Seeping, but not ejaculating, and held there. Even when she backed off, and slowly slid her sweet mouth up to the head and down again in one fluid motion, he wondered that he did not ejaculate. He was experienced in edging, but the time would always come when he could not hold off any longer, and his jism was spent. He would have thought, with his cock in Mrs. J's mouth, her breasts and nipples rubbing his thighs, her soft curly hair entwined in his fingers, the angelic image of her face, he would have had less control.

Like an angel, in these moments, her face was ageless. Earlier, when they were talking in the kitchen, it was her age that made her so attractive. He anticipated fondling the breasts of a woman older than his mother. A woman who had been fucking since before he was born. Sweet, forbidden fruit.

Now, the age difference was not important, or so it seemed. In truth, no girl his own age would have this ability, this control. It was not important to him that she was so old, and yet it was her age and experience that made this such an enlightening and enjoyable experience.

Margie was seeing that she would need more experience to truly deep throat this young cock. She would have to improvise. She wrapped her thumb and index finger around the very base of his pecker. If her lips could touch her finger, she would consider her attempt a success. She lowered her mouth, trying to imitate a sword swallower. She could not align his shaft with her gullet. Again, it bumped the back of her throat, but she did not gag. She then used her lips to climb down a little further, by stretching them forward, until they touched her finger and thumb. She held that for a silent count of three, considered that a success, then slurpped her way back up to the head. She allowed it to pop out of her mouth.

"I'm ready when you are."

If he had any doubt about what she meant, it did not matter. His cock was only out of her mouth long enough for her to take a breath, and she returned to her efforts, with new enthusiasm. Her strokes were shorter, thus faster, and she added a partial spin to it. She soon had Montana past the point of no return. He could not have stopped if he wanted to. He let out a sigh as he spewed his warm jiz into her mouth. She took it, eagerly, anxious to please and impress him. He was pleased, and impressed.

Gently and methodically she cleaned his tool, keeping it in her mouth as long as possible, cautious of his sensitive cock head. For the last little bit she held it, and licked it, clean. She looked up at him for approval, and he smiled, and nodded his approval. They were both pleased.

Margie stood up, adjusted her skirt, gently lifted her breasts and wiped the light perspiration than had formed under them where skin met skin. She sat down beside Montana, not knowing what to say, so allowing him to speak first.

"Mrs. J, can we fuck?"

"Well, I believe we know each other well enough for you to call me by my first name. But to answer your question, yes, we can have intercourse. I am on the pill. We can do it as soon you are ready."

As she finished speaking she looked down at his cock, and saw that it was again getting stiff. She had forgotten how fast young men regained an erection. She reached down and held it in her hand, as he reached out and held one of her breasts. His cock responded immediately. He was ready.

She wanted to sit on his lap, facing him, after inserting his fuck pole into her moist pussy, putting her motherly breasts against his face. If she were younger, that would be great.

She certainly did not mind the time she spent on her knees in front of him, but she knew she would not last long on her knees straddling his lap. She would have preferred having the control of easing his cock deep inside her, but she would have to trust him to ease it in comfortably. It was also easier for her to have an orgasm when she was in control of clit-cock contact. She was confident that this would not be their only fuck. Today she was more concerned with his satisfaction than her own. She knew he would have have an orgasm, as long as she was reasonably comfortable.

She had never been fucked by a virgin before. He would be her first, she would be his first. She hoped it would be as memorable for him, as she knew it would be for her.

Then she got an idea, better than fucking on the couch.

"Let's go upstairs to the bedroom."

She grabbed their clothes and led the way up the stairs, to the spare bedroom, that was for the boys, when they were home. The one Montana was in when he watched Mrs J with Harold.

He stopped in the hallway.

"Mrs. J, I mean Margie, I don't like this room. It reminds me of...Harold."

"The only other bedroom is Harvey's and mine."

"This might sound weird, but I don't mind sharing you with Harvey, but not Harold."

Margie understood. Dear, sweet, Montana was the sensitive type. After today he would no longer be a virgin. This was, in a way, his honeymoon experience. He had chosen her, and it was her responsibility to make this the best possible for him.

"Not weird at all. Come with me."

She led him to her bedroom. She pulled back the blankets, slipped out of her shirt and panties, and slid under the covers.

She was sensative about her weight, her wrinkles, her sagging, her cellulite. She still did not get it that Montana found these things attractive. Harvey complained about them, wanted her to look like she did when they got married. Even Harold seemed more interested in her pussy and mouth than her body. She thought that is the way men are, always wanting the younger versions. In this regard, Montana would become her teacher. He would teach her that her body was beautiful, just the was it was. He would encourage her to walk around half nude, or fully nude, when they had the opportunity to be alone.

She would learn that he enjoyed rubbing his hand over her orange peel skin, that was no longer smooth, due to cellulite. He enjoyed looking at her sagging breasts, cupping them in his hands. Her rippled tummy, still showing remnants of childbirth, made her more appealing, not less. She was after all, a woman. This is how she was supposed to look.

He liked her to keep her pussy furry, not because it camouflaged her pussy lips that were also sagging, but because it was natural. It was not tight camel toes that he found attractive, but the loose flaps that he could hold between his lips.

Montana was not a pussy snob. He understood guys his age that liked the tight, young, smooth camel toes. They chased after girls 15 or 16. Some even tried to get in the pants of 13 year olds. Now that was too young. Their pubic area looked like it belonged on plastic Barbie dolls. He understood the attraction to peach fuzz teeny booppers, it just was not for him. He would rather have their mothers, or even their grandmothers.

In his quest for Polaroid porn he had found photos of some of the mature pussy around town. Nice old pussy, a little over weight, starting to hang low. None of Margie, but he hoped to take some of his own close ups.

Margie slid under the covers and waited for Montana to take his shirt off and join her.

As soon as he did he stuck his head under the blankets to have a look. He had never been with a nude woman before.

He did see his mother before, not that he would want to be under the covers that bitch. He only got some glimpses, enough to see her form and outline. She kept her pussy shaved around the edges. 'Panty perfect' he heard her tell one of her girlfriends. Yes, he even jerked off a few times thinking about her.

Now he wondered If he would ever jerk off again.

Margie reached down and pulled him up, kissing him on the lips.

"Now we can fuck.", she whispered.

She sure was sexy when she said 'fuck'.

She rolled over on top of him, spreading her legs and rubbing her pussy on his cock, that was still very hard. Her pussy was still moist from her cock sucking efforts. She reached down between them and guided his dick between her lips, into her vagina.

This would not be a time for a lesson in the fine art of fucking. He wanted to fuck her, she wanted to show him she was no tease, and, she was very anxious to be fucked by his wonderful pecker. It would be a memorable event, but simple, with no fanfare. Some of the nice, plain, in-out.

They cuddled together, Margie slowly pumping her pelvis into him, his cock into her. She was embarrassed to tell him she never had a cock as big as his.

Harvey's cock was not as big, but as they say, it is not the tool, but the craftsman. Harvey was a very good craftsman, great technique.

Harold's cock was fatter, but not really bigger. And honestly, his technique was not as good, not as developed. With him, it was more the forbidden fruit, that was the excitement.

Now, with Montana, excellent tool, the potential of a great craftsman, who by all appearances worshiped her as a sex goddess. There was more than just lust between them, that was obvious.

She continued the slow undulating of her hips, working his prick further into her womanhood. Kisses between them, sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes deep and passionate. She felt they were soul mates. When she first was intimate with a man, Montana had not been born. They had been together for an hour, maybe more, and she felt this was where she was meant to be. She turned her head to look at the night stand clock.

Panic! It was 4:30. They had been together over four hours. Harvey would leaving work in an half an hour, home not 20 minutes after that.

She rolled them over, together. She was on her back, looking up at him.

"Do me baby. I want you. Give me all of it. Just let nature take control."

Montana started pumping, as she positioned herself so that her clit was stimulated. She had been getting herself close. Just a few thrusts from him and he heard her moan, felt her squeeze his shoulders. Seconds later he was shooting his jism into her. He made a full thrust in as far as he could, then one inch pumps, in and out, repeatedly.

As Margie suspected, it was new territory, but it did not hurt. It felt good, very good. Now she was his, and he was hers.