Snow Is Also Fun For Adults

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Big Tits

I was sick of the game. I was sick of playing it cool, then acting interested, then dancing around for a week or two, it never fucking ended, and rarely ended in fucking. Girls my age just weren’t mature enough. Or maybe I wasn’t mature enough to play that game with them. I don’t know. But what I do know is I was sick of it. The answer was relatively simple: MILFs. A hot older woman who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t mince words. Someone I could just come on to without having to play the game. Now I just had to find one. But sometimes, when you’re not looking, what you want will find you. We were done with college for the semester. It was winter break. I was back at home, happy to be sleeping in my bed. I had no responsibilities, I could sleep in. I didn’t have a care in the world. Then the snow storm hit. It was a fucking blizzard. For two days my family was trapped inside our house. Power was cut, wind was swirling, snow was piling up everywhere. Finally, on the third day, it stopped. Snow piled up for feet outside our doors, almost up to the windows. The sun was shining brightly now, but the temperature was still in the low 30’s (or close to 0 for you Centigrade people). This shit was not going to melt for a while. Being the only male in the house, it was my responsibility to get rid of the snow. At my mother’s direction, I climbed out the window and sunk about three feet deep into the powdery white blanket that covered the entire town. Collecting my shovel, I started working, first making a narrow path to my door, then clearing it out to allow my family to enter and exit at will. I was looking forward to entering my warm house, taking a hot shower and having a bowl of soup to warm up, but I apparently wasn’t quite done yet. My mother pointed me in the direction of my next door neighbor’s house. Nathalie was 41 and her husband was always out of town. She was alone and there was no way she would be able to get out of her house by herself. I made another narrow path over to her and started to dig. Normally, I’d be pissed off that I had to clear out some one else’s house, but Nathalie was different. At 41, she still could have passed for 25. Her tits were still high and firm. Her stomach was thin and taut. During summer when she tanned in her bikini, it was a sight to behold. Her eyes still sparkled with youthful exuberance. Her face was that of a model. She could pull of the soccer mom look or go for drop-dead gorgeous when she wanted to turn on the charm. She was, simply put, bahçesehir escort stunning. So, naturally, I had little problem doing a favor for her. She looked out her window and smiled brightly at me, silently thanking me for clearing out the sidewalk and the steps. It took a few hours, but when all was said and done her sidewalk, steps, and driveway, as well as mine, were all clear of snow. Almost as soon as I was finished she opened the door, wrapped in a heavy winter jacket and invited me in to thank me with a cup of hot chocolate. “You must be freezing working out there for hours at a time. The least I could do is get you a nice cup of hot chocolate, maybe cook you a hot meal. Please, come in.” “That’d be great. Thanks.” I walked through the open door, which she quickly closed behind her to block the chill from entering the house. The warmth seeped into my skin, melting the cold away, making me feel human again. I took off my coat and hung it on the rack, becoming much more comfortable. Nathalie did the same, taking off her coat, revealing that she was still in her sleeping clothes, which consisted of a long t-shirt with a low neckline and comfortable looking capri flannel pants. While the outfit itself might not have been the sexiest thing in the world, she wore it very well. The neckline swooped low enough that it showed some of her glorious cleavage. She also looked so comfortable in her own skin that she carried an air of confidence around her. “I’ll go get you that drink now. You can wait in the kitchen if you like.” Agreeing, I followed her into the kitchen, sitting down at the table as she prepared my hot chocolate. Had I not known, I never would have guessed her to be 41. She had such a spring in her step as she moved effortlessly around her kitchen. I don’t know if she meant to, but she was affording me several fantastic looks at her ass. She would bend low or reach up high to get a cup or an ingredient. She was simply stunning. Ass he bounced about the kitchen, she seemed to be going through a lot of extra effort to make this particular cup of hot chocolate delicious. I’m used to Swiss Miss packets. She was making it from fresh chocolate. Grinding it up, heating it up, adding some milk and cooking it on the stove. Her stirring wasn’t like normal stirring either. As the spoon moved around the pot, so did her body. With each rotation of the spoon she looked like she was dancing around a pole. I let out an involuntary groan, causing her to look beylikdüzü bayan escort over her shoulder at me. Her face morphed from “soccer-mom cute” to “was that for little ol’ me?” to “come fuck me stud.” Then she turned back around to continue her stirring. She took the spoon from the pot and inspected the consistency. Holding it in both hands, she took a long, slow lick, running her tongue over the chocolate coating on the spoon. “Perrrfect.” She turned with my hot chocolate, complete with marshmallows floating in the drink, and sat down with me at the table as she placed the drink on the table in front of me. I took off my gloves and wrapped my hands around it, feeling the warmth spread through my hands. I lifted the mug to take a sip and felt the warmth spread through my core as I swallowed a sip. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” “No trouble at all.” She lifted my gloves, feeling them. “These are so wet, your hands must have been frozen out there. Let me throw these in the dryer for a cycle.” She stood up from the table, making her breasts jiggle slightly, then walked towards the washer-dryer, only one room away. Naturally, I turned to watch her ass as she went. I could have been wrong, but I think there was a little bit of an extra sway to her step. I had a feeling this might end up being more than hot chocolate. Getting warm now, and not just from my hot drink, I began to remove more of my layers of clothing. By the time Nathalie got back, I was wearing just a long-sleeved t-shirt and my jeans. “Sorry to make you go for an extra trip, but these might need to be washed and dried as well.” She smiled at me, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Of course.” I followed her to the laundry room, leaving my drink on the table. As she opened the top loading machine, I pressed up against her, my hard cock against her tight ass. I felt her grind back against me. Quickly I removed my shirt. “I think this might need washing too.” “Just toss it in.” I pressed my body against her, now shirtless. “Why are you shirtless and alone with a married woman?” Her voice was harsh, biting. “Because we both know you want this. Besides, do you really think a cup of hot chocolate is enough of a thank you for all of that long, hard work?” “Yes, and I’m doing you’re laundry for you. Stop this.” She was starting to lose her edge, the desire was evident in her voice. I let my hand snake around her and dropped my shirt into the washing machine. I dropped my hand to her side escort beylikdüzü and ran it up her body, cupping one of her breasts through her shirt. “Wha…What are you doing? I’m a m-married woman?” Her voice wavered as she tried to continue to object, tried to continue to fend me off. I kissed the side of her neck, planting kisses. She moved aside trying to push me away, but I was having none of it. I knew she wanted this as much as I did. I continued along her neck as I worked my way up to her ear. I nibbled on it softly, then whispered huskily, “Your husband’s out of town, he’s always out of town. You need some…company.” “Some company would much appreciated, but…” She turned around and lifted her hand to run it down my chest and abs. “But…we can’t. We just can’t.” Her voice tailed off at the end, there was no conviction in her words. I stood there, my crotch pressed against hers. I easily lifted her onto the washing machine and closed the gap between us. I leaned in close and planted a kiss on her. Soft and gentle, but hinting at something more. “My husband –” I cut her off. “– isn’t here. I am.” I kissed her again, her arms wrapping around my neck as my tongue snaked into her mouth. She moaned headily as her tongue began to play with mine. I backed off one more time to see if she had any more objections. She looked into my eyes. With one half-assed last attempt she said, “We really shouldn’t.” “You’re right. We shouldn’t. But we will.” This time, she didn’t hesitate in the least. She didn’t initiate the kiss, but damn, did she participate in it. As soon as our lips met, she parted them with her tongue, kissing me fiercely, pushing her tongue into my mouth. My hands roamed her body as hers stayed locked behind my neck, holding me close to her. I felt her every curve over her shirt, then broke the kiss and her hold on me momentarily to rid her of that cumbersome shirt. Her braless breasts stared back at me. I smiled lasciviously. This time, she did initiate the kiss. She pulled me back towards her, mashing her lips against mine, pressing her body against me. She wrapped her legs around my waist even as she sat on the washing machine. Unable to reach her breasts, I occupied my hands with her back, feeling every inch of perfect skin. I ran my hands down her back to her ass, slipping my hands under her waistband and cupping her round ass cheeks. She moaned lustily in my mouth as she backed away from me slightly, allowing me to lean down and attach my lips to her nipple. My hands still on her ass, I licked and sucked around her breasts, closing on hard nipples, taking them into my mouth. She grasped my hair with both hands and pressed me closer to her breasts, moaning and groaning. I freed one hand from her ass and took one of her hands from my head, guiding it to my hard cock.

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