(Part 1 / 2, go here for the part 2)

(Part 1 / 2, go here for the part 2)

Angel Rush totally lost her temper! “So, do you think I’m not fit to be an erotic model?!” she shouted at grandpa Nick. “I will prove you wrong once for all!”


(Part 2 / 2, go here for the part 1)

(Part 2 / 2, go here for the part 1)

Angel Rush totally lost her temper! “So, do you think I’m not fit to be an erotic model?!” she shouted at grandpa Nick. “I will prove you wrong once for all!”


Public quickies with a grandpa happen so fast …

Public quickies with a grandpa happen so fast and last just few minutes but they are always so exciting!


The Phone Conversation

The Phone Conversation

She was standing at the mirror in the bathroom with her hair tied back and wearing nothing more than a thigh-length white silk dressing gown when she started to think about the phone conversation she’d had earlier that day. It was with her mother and she had been in the bus on her way to his house. They spoke at least once a week on the phone and her mother was always the good parent in being concerned about her daughter’s welfare, especially her emotional welfare. She tried not to pry too much into her social life at college but somehow she always got around to the subject of dating. Her mother would say things like, “I bet there are some nice boys at the college,” or “someone as lovely as you would get a lot of attention,” and other hints like that.

This time, her mother was overjoyed to hear she’d met someone who she was romantically involved with. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that! Do you see each other often? Does he live in one of the dorms?” She’d told her mother he lives off campus in a house. “With other students?” was the next question. “Not exactly,” she had replied, evasively.

As she stroked her skin with cotton wool swab covered in skin cleanser, a voice came from the bedroom behind her. “Baby, when are you coming to bed? I’m missing you!” She called back that she’d be there in a couple of minutes. He seemed to be insatiable with her. As soon as she got back from college in the late afternoon, he would be there hugging and kissing her, putting his hand under her skirt and sliding it into her panties to feel her pussy. He texted her throughout the day to tell her how much he was looking forward to feeling her naked body against his. He obviously meant every word judging by the passion he showed after a separation of just a few hours. She loved feeling so desirable but had always assumed she would be the one with the greater sexual appetite.

Even after they had sex when she got home, he would be ready for her again after they ate. Sometimes, he couldn’t even wait until the meal was ready. They’d prepare food together in the kitchen and she might be wearing just one of his big cotton shirts and nothing else. He loved her in those shirts with no panties on because he could put his hands inside anywhere and anytime to touch her breasts and feel the rest of her body. He loved to touch her pussy as she was standing there after they had just made love so he could his fresh cum oozing down the inside of her thigh. Neither of them liked condoms and he found it incredibly exciting to feel the wetness of her pussy from the load he had left inside a short time before. So exciting, that he’d often suddenly hoist her onto the kitchen work surface when she was in the middle of preparing something, open her legs, unzip his trousers and push himself inside to cum again while the vegetables were steaming. Sloppy seconds, but with yourself as the first, he would joke.

As she wiped away the last remnants of makeup around her eyes in front of the bathroom mirror, she thought some more about what had her mother had said that day. “When do you think I can meet him? It would so nice to meet a boy you are close to!” She put the top on the cleanser bottle, threw the cotton wool in the bin and padded back into the darkened bedroom, in bare feet, towards the bed. She pulled back the egyptian cotton covers and let the silk dressing gown drop to the floor before she slid into bed next to him.

She felt his arm encircle her as she snuggled up to his warm body. She leant over and kissed him on the lips and as he turned to over to press his body against hers, she could feel the wetness on her leg of the pre-cum dripping from his half erect penis. He was ready to take her again, but then he was always ready to take her again. As he got on top of her and she opened her legs to let him penetrate her, she imagined what she would tell her mother on the next phone call. “Well mom, he’s a little bit older than me.” She could imagine the reply. “Oh really? How much older?”

At that point he had put his cock slowly all the way inside her and was holding himself over her face with his arms, gently kissing her cheeks. She felt so wet and ready as he slowly drew his cock all the way out of her and then began another longer penetrative stroke. As he began to rhythmically fuck her tight young pussy harder with his old cock, she closed her eyes with pleasure and managed to imagine the final words she uttered on that next phone call before there was a deafening silence at the other end. “Well, mom, he’s actually old enough to be your father. But I love him so much!”


″Uncle, where are you?! I need your help! My p…


″Uncle, where are you?! I need your help! My pussy is so thirsty and despite I’m masturbating for many minutes I still can’t cum!”

(Source: SCOP-446)


(Part 1 / 2, go here for the part 2)Real women…

(Part 1 / 2, go here for the part 2)

Real women have curves…and much older lovers!


(Part 2 / 2, go here for the part 1)Real wom…

(Part 2 / 2, go here for the part 1)

Real women have curves…and much older lovers!


Last Man of the Apocalypse

Last Man of the Apocalypse

No one understood how the virus evolved so quickly into something so deadly. One day it was just a few isolated cases cropping up around the world. A few months later it had morphed into a worldwide epidemic. It started out like a bad flu but within days a severe brain inflammation would develop. In the final stages, the infected would transform from being bed-bound groaning invalids to spending their last few feverish days as deranged roaming lunatics who would sense the proximity of any healthy human and try to bite them to death. If the victim didn’t die from the ferocity of the attack then they would certainly become infected themselves. It was like an outbreak of human rabies on a massive scale.

Soon society ceased functioning. People stopped going to work, institutions closed down, public services stopped. anarchy reigned. Armed vigilante groups formed and patrolled the streets, shooting on sight any they thought were infected but even this didn’t halt the spread of the virus. It seemed to be traveling in the air and with so many people living in close proximity in urban areas, the cities soon became desolate wastelands of empty abandoned buildings.

That’s how he had fortuitously survived. By isolating himself in his cottage in the country, but it was by accident, not design. He had been desperate to finish a screenplay he was writing and had decided the only way was to stock up on everything he needed for a month or two and lock himself away in the cottage with his laptop until he’d finished every last scene. When he had left the city, the infections seemed under control. A few weeks later, the power to the cottage stopped working and when he tuned on a battery powered radio, he discovered the modern world as he had known it was in a state of total collapse.

It was just after the time when the government radio broadcasts stopped that he had to shoot the first infected. He saw it coming down the track towards the cottage with wild eyes like a drunken zombie and knew immediately what he had to do. He grabbed an old hunting shotgun, put cartridges in the chambers, opened the front door and blew its head off as it came towards him. It was the first. There were others. They always came during daylight and it was as though they could smell the scent of a human who wasn’t infected from a long distance away.

Without anything on the normal radio medium and long wave bands, he tried short wave, but there was still nothing. Then he got out an old radio-shack CB handheld radio one evening and tried that for an hour. CB radio had a limited range of a couple of miles but maybe there was someone like himself in the area. The first few evenings he switched on and tried a simple message. “Mayday, mayday. Can anyone hear me? This is Kristian. Over.” Then on the third he heard a young woman’s voice reply. “Hello! Hello Kristian!. My name is Scarlett.” It had been weeks since he’d heard another human voice, and his heart pounded with excitement and joy. “Hi Scarlett, where are you? Over.” The radio crackled. “I’m over near the Catchataw river, by the wooden footbridge. I came here to study for my finals at college. The I found out there was nothing to go back to.” He knew exactly where she was. With the trail bike he kept out the back, he could have been there in maybe twenty minutes but he resisted the idea. It was amazing that he found anyone alive on the CB radio but it was safer for them both if they kept themselves isolated.

Over the next week, he and Scarlett would chat every evening over the CB after it got dark and he’d check how she doing. He found out that she was in her early twenties and clearly a little frightened but also relieved that she wasn’t alone in the world. She didn’t know what had happened to her family but she feared that by then they had perished. He asked if she’d seen anything near her cabin but she said no. He didn’t worry her by talking about the ones he had had to shoot. Often, in their daily chat, the two of them would joke about being the last people left on the planet.

He was a little taken aback when Scarlett revealed some of her innermost thoughts in one unguarded moment. “Kristian, I have to tell you, I’ve been getting really horny in this frigging cabin. I was starting to get worried I might not have sex with anyone again until I heard your voice on the radio. Don’t you get horny sometimes? Over.”

He’d had very little experience with sexting or phone sex so erotic conversation over an open public CB frequency seemed like an even greater novelty. He assumed there could be no one left alive in the area to listen in. “Well, yes, I have to admit that listening to your voice is making me imagine what your body looks like. Over.” He could hear the end of a giggle as she pressed the transmit button on her radio. “Well I think I look OK. Nice perky breasts. I think you’d like sucking them, What about you?” He couldn’t help but stroking his cock a little as he imagined putting his hands over Scarlett’s soft young body and sucking the breasts she was describing. “Sixty one years old. Five, ten. Pretty fit, Over.”

There was more giggling coming over the airwaves. “Age isn’t a problem, Kristian. Right now, you might be the only answer to my prayers…oh wait…what’s that!? Shit! Christ! It’s outside.. Oh my God!” He pressed the talk button. “Scarlett! What is it it. Are you OK? Over?” There was a moments silence and then Scarlett came on again. She was panting with fear. “Kristian, I heard something outside. I don’t know what it is! Over.” It was already dark but maybe the infected were now moving at night too. He didn’t wait to find out. “Hang tight. I’ve got a trail bike. I’ll be there soon. Over and out.”

He locked the cottage and strapped the gun to the motorcycle. He kick-started it and the engine roared into life. The dirt tracks were dry and there was a full moon. He kept the bike’s lights off in case they attracted the infected. He wasn’t sure if they might also be attracted by the noise but he’d take the chance.

As he took a final bend on the journey, he could see the river in the distance and some light from a candle in the window of the cabin next to it. He pulled up, unstrapped and cocked the loaded shotgun and knocked on the door. Bolts behind it were slid back and it opened to reveal a cute young woman in sweat-pants and t-shirt. Scarlett rushed forward to embrace him in a long hug, her head tight against his chest. “Kristian, it was a false alarm, but I’m so glad to see you anyway!”

As he lay there later that night on the bed in the cabin, he looked down to see her head resting on his chest as she slept. She looked untroubled and safe as he stroked her hair back from her face. He thought about how they had first kissed soon after he arrived and finally got over the awkwardness of their first meeting. Her body had felt so soft and untouched as he’d explored it with his hands. She’d told him she’d just had a couple of boyfriends before and didn’t consider herself so experienced sexually but he soon found she had a ravenous sexual appetite that needed to be fed. She was right about her breasts. They weren’t so big but sucking on them felt wonderful. He remembered how he’d cum deep inside her as he took her from behind bareback and she bucked against his thrusts as she moaned with pleasure. He told her he couldn’t hold back anymore and she breathlessly told him she wanted him to shoot his load into her unprotected pussy. Who cared about birth control at the end of the world?

He listened for any sounds outside the cabin and considered how the zombie apocalypse wasn’t so bad after her all if old men like himself end up with the cutest of young lovers like her. Then he fell asleep and drifted into a deep sleep. Too deep to hear the sound of multiple footsteps gradually approaching the cabin from all sides….


That’s how it should be: An old man fucks a yo…


That’s how it should be: An old man fucks a young girls and a young guy carefully watches them, so he could learn something about sex.


In Therapy

In Therapy

She was less nervous this time as she stood on the street and pressed the buzzer to the apartment. She looked around at the pedestrians going by and wondered what they might think if they knew why a young woman in her early twenties was going up to the fifth floor of that building. Surprised? Shocked? Disgusted? She hadn’t told a soul about the treatment she was undergoing. It had been a surprise to her that such therapy even existed. But her psychotherapist had recommended it as the very best option for her sexual addiction and she decided she’d try anything if it could help return her beahvior to what most considered “normal”.

The young female receptionist opened the door with a broad smile and asked her to take a seat in the waiting room. It was nice there was a female her own age that worked as his assistant. Somehow it made it all feel normal and everyday. Like she wasn’t some pervert with an overactive sex-drive, constantly seeking out erotic thrills. Although her shrink prefered to describe it more in Freudian terms. Her id and its need for physical sexual satisfaction, was in control, he said, and neither the stabilizing forces of her ego or super-ego were able to balance out those basic, primitive needs.

Her shrink was also quite certain that she had deep-seated issues with older men that lay behind her increasingly troubling behavior. It had all started innocently enough with tumblr age-gap porn blogs but it soon escalated to the point that she cut off regular social contacts so she could bring herself off to Internet porn. Nothing seemed more erotic or visceral than the sight of a sixty something year old man deep inside the vagina of a girl in her early twenties or reading a story about it. But tumblr porn turned out to be a gateway drug. It was when she started approaching old men in public places and offering them a quick free blowjob that she knew she needed help. Yes, she loved to hear them grunt with pleasure as they looked down at her bobbing head but she also knew things had got out of control. She needed to seek professional help before her health and possibly her life were put in danger.

It took some hours of laying on the couch in his office being psychoanalyzed before her therapist started to probe her relationships with her father and grandfather. He must have gone through a lot of ink as he took notes on that subject. To put it mildly, it was complicated. Then, when he’d heard enough, he proposed a solution she had never dreamed could have existed. He knew of a private therapist, a man in his sixties who had long experience of dealing with such non-standard sexual feelings in women like herself. In a safe, controlled environment she would be able to experience intimacy with a much older man so she could fully act out the sexual experiences that her libido was driving her to seek. She herself could decide the level of intimacy and the length of the sessions but several might to needed to fully explore her innermost issues. The greater surprise was that her private health insurance would cover the costs. It took a moment’s thought before she said ‘yes’ to this idea, although she really wanted to scream out ‘sign me up!’

The receptionist came back to the waiting room and asked if she’d like some wine or maybe some medicinal marijuana to relax her before the session. She opted for the wine and thought about the previous sessions as she sipped some cabernet sauvignon. It was her third visit to the therapist and one she was the most nervous about.

On the first visit they had just talked, without hardly any touching except for a long hug before she left. She remembered how warm and cuddly his body felt in that long hug.

On the second visit he had sat next to her on a sofa and she got accustomed to him holding her hand, putting his arm around her and softly kissing her cheek. He only ever went as far as her comfort level allowed. So far they had been fully clothed but that didn’t diminish the intensity of the experience. By the time the sessions were over, her panties were soaked.

She also had a questionnaire to fill out asking about the level of intimacy she would like. She had done this on the previous visits and had been told it was an essential tool for the therapist to understand her frame of mind before the session. Under the category “Clothing”, she ticked the box “Naked”. It was about time she felt his hands on her whole body. Under the category “Intimacy Level” she ticked the box “Full Penetration without Condom”. She’d had enough of holding hands and kissing. It was time to get what she really craved. This freudian Id thing with its venal needs needed to be silenced. Under “Control Parameter” she ticked the box “Slightly rough”. Being used as an old man’s fucktoy might also help give her Id what it needed. Under “Ejaculate Location” she ticked “Anywhere” and handed back the sheet of paper.

The receptionist took the questionnaire from her and disappeared through a door at the side A few minutes later the therapist himself emerged from the same door with the paper in hand. As on the previous visits, he wore a smart suit with shirt and tie, and she found it easy to imagine he was a sixty-four year old tax consultant rather than a sex therapist. “It’s so nice to see you again and you’re looking so well!” he said, holding out his hand for her to shake it although he were about to advise her on choosing accelerated depreciation. She blushed as she stood, wine glass still in hand, aware that pussy was tingling from filling out the questionnaire. “Would you like to come through, and we’ll get started.” He turned to his receptionist as he went through the door. “No more calls today. This consultation will be an extended one”. The word ‘extended’ sounded ominous in her ears.

His office was much like any mental health professional’s office. It had a pleasant warm atmosphere with colorful paintings on the walls and two comfortable chairs where patient and therapist could sit facing each other. He sat in one with the questionnaire still in one hand and a notebook and pen in the other. She put down her bag, took off her jacket and sat in the other. Behind his head she could see the doorway to the other room that led from the office and behind the half open door under half dimmed lights, she could see a freshly made bed whose sight made her pussy even wetter.

“So,” he began, looking at the questionnaire and scribbling something in his notebook. “How have you been since the last session? Still masturbating a lot?” Inside the safe confines of his office, there was no point in subterfuge. She was here for help. Anything but total honesty was ridiculous. She said that she was masturbating to orgasm about three times a day. Usually at least twice in the evening and if she could find the opportunity, once at work in the restroom. “And still to age-gap porn?” She said that, yes, mostly tumblr porn, although sometimes she went to the video sites and searched using the words “Old Man” to find videos that weren’t on tumblr. “But you haven’t tried approaching any more strangers to act out your fantasies?” She answered in the negative. She said she was starting to see the line between fantasy and reality. “That’s excellent! I think we’re making progress, don’t you? Shall we go into the therapy room?”

They got up together and she followed him into the bedroom she’d seen earlier. She could smell the beautiful musky aftershave he was wearing as she followed him and she could also feel how wet her pussy was and how her breasts tingled. She knew she was going to get well and truly fucked for the next hour or so by an understanding old man and in any way she wanted. Hopefully she wouldn’t be cured any time soon.