I worked as a courier in a delivery service to pay for my studies. The orders were different, but I remember that day for the rest of my life. It was a frosty winter, and I had to trudge across town with a huge bag of groceries. The door was opened by a woman, Valentina Sergeevna, as indicated in the order. She was fifty-eight, but she didn’t look it. She was tall, with a heavy bun of hair on the back of her head and piercing gray eyes. I often looked at women her age. I had this craving for maturity, for these lush, formed figures, for the softness of lines and a special, domineering femininity. Girls my age seemed bland and angular to me. I dreamed of a big, luxurious ass that I could squeeze with my hands, imagined myself sinking between these elastic halves.
At home, emptiness and eternal fatigue awaited me. My personal life wasn’t going well.
It was very hot in the apartment that day, and the batteries were on full blast. Valentina Sergeevna was wearing a light cotton dressing gown that did not hide her curves at all. She apologized for the stuffiness, said that the pipe had burst and the locksmith had fixed everything, but the valve had been blocked badly. I brought the groceries into the kitchen, and when I turned around, she bent over to the bottom cabinet to remove the cereal. The robe stretched over her massive butt, like two balls, and I saw that there was nothing under it. The fabric gently outlined each curve, cutting between the buttocks. My breath caught in my throat, and my cock in my pants instantly turned red. I froze, afraid to give myself away.
Valentina Sergeevna straightened up and caught my stunned gaze. There was no indignation in her eyes, but rather feminine understanding and, as it seemed to me, a slight smile. I mumbled an apology and stormed out the door. For the next week, I took all the orders from her neighborhood myself, hoping for a miracle. But the next time, her order was special to me โ she asked me to help move an old cabinet.
When I arrived, she was wearing that robe again. I moved the furniture, feeling my hands tremble from the strain. Valentina Sergeevna was standing next to me, prompting me. And then, when I sat down on the edge of the sofa, exhausted, she came over and took my hand and pressed it to her thigh. “Isn’t that what you wanted, boy?” “What is it?” she asked softly. I couldn’t say a word, just frantically stroked her large thighs, feeling the heat radiating from her body.
I’m emboldened. My fingers slid under the hem, found the tight, cool buttocks. She didn’t move, just took a deeper breath when I parted the halves and touched her. sexrasskaz.com the most intimate place. Her anus was the exact opposite of what I saw in porn with young girls. It was not a tight, unyielding rosette, but a large, hot hollow that seemed to be looking for affection, trembling from touch.
I yanked off her robe. She leaned her hands on the edge of the sideboard without turning around, and spread her legs a little wider. Her buttocks, two huge, marble-white spheres, swayed. I spat on my fingers and smeared my saliva all over Valentina’s anus. I inserted my strained cock into that pliant, waiting hole. God, it was so sweet! Clumsily but passionately, I began to move, and Valentina Sergeevna let out a long, guttural moan, burying her face in the crook of her elbow. She didn’t just let me โ she forcefully pushed her ass against my every thrust, impaling herself on me to the very bottom.
The finish came quickly, and I didn’t try to hold it back. Exhausted, I rested my forehead against her back. Panting, she turned around, pulled me to her and whispered fervently, “How hungry you areโฆ I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” And I rebelled again, feeling how she guided me, how she pointed my trunk into her heated interior with her own hand.
From that day on, we became secret lovers. Valentina Sergeevna, my Valechka, has become a whole universe for me. Our whole passion revolved around anal sex. She confessed that her late husband, a simple hard worker, did not recognize “pampering,” and she discovered her true passion for this kind of intimacy after forty, with an accidental business trip, which awakened this hunger in her. Now, according to her, her insatiable ass sang and demanded affection every day when I came home from school. I didn’t even think about refusing. In this curvy, hot woman, I found not only the satisfaction of my youthful fantasies, but also the warmth that I missed so much.