I confess I want an older man to talk to me and make me his only cock whore son.....

just got back from doing some shopping with no underwear or bra on,a very tight dress, and my fav heels hehe i love watching people trying not to look. i had an older man brush up against me while i was bending over to get something 'by accident'. i just looked up at him and licked my lips. i love being a tease

Confession time. and this one hurts me.

me and my wife are in our 30s and her former college sugar daddy contacted her for the first time in about 4 years and my wife isn't shooting the idea down right away. 4 years ago my wife was pregnant when he contacted us so it was a clear no. this time she's not so fast to say no. we both lost our jobs at the beginning of covid and we had to eat some of our savings and added some debt. we're better now we both work again. My wife thinks she can get that money back from him. this is all fucking me up. i don't want this happening to my family.

We been together 7 years and she told me about him when we got engaged. The last meetup she says was 8 years ago a little before I met my wife. I don't know much about their arrangement. Wish I did but I don't. I learned a bit over the years mainly from arguments or an unexpected tipsy comment. I know he is about 20 years older than her. White "dad bod". She described him has "kind" "kinky old man" and "generous" on a few occasions. He apparently likes to prepare different outfits for her to try on and touch her in them. She mentioned having to put on an official city bus driver uniform and a bikini with a hijab for him in the same night. He paid about 2/3 of her college tuition. They went on a hawaii vacation once for a week all expenses paid by him. My mother in law still thinks her hawaii vacation was with a few girlfriends. and I suspect he bought her the car she used to drive when I first met her since her parents mentioned once they didn't pay for it. I'm pretty sure that was him.

I have so many questions that have gone unanswered. what did she do for him? payment amounts? how many times? other sugar daddies from college?

So I'm bicurious. I'm 39 and have thought about going to a gay bar to see what transpires. But I'm curious about how to act? What do I do? If I sit at the bar will I get hit on (what I want). Kind of want to be hit on by an older man and have him touch my penis. Maybe have him ask me home..touch other areas of me. I just don't think I'll be aggressive with it so I'm wondering how to behave or what I should do.

I confess i really want an older man to pick me up and use me for a while

Beyond the Horizon

Part 1

One of the lessons you learn after years of driving is that at some point or another, you’re going to experience the pain of repetition and predictability. Even when I first started off on the journey, I never had a destination in mind. It’s like as soon as I sat down and closed the door, it was getting hazy. It’s apparent to me now that from the moment I turned that old key and fired her up I was totally unsure of to exactly where I thought I was going. Driving is one of my greatest pleasures. There’s a sincere innocence in the act of driving. I lost sight of much of that, and from time to time I wasn’t sure if I was even in control. From a certain perspective the relationship between the machine and it’s controller breaks down, and it can become objectively difficult to distinguish which is driven by which.

To be fair, the warning signs were all over the place. It felt like I couldn’t go more than ten seconds without some sign, a precaution, a rule, a rule of thumb, a word of advice whispered in confidence. I always did my best to be a responsible driver. For the longest time I did my best to obey all the rules of the road, back before I knew better, or perhaps until I thought I knew better. Experience is the greatest teacher, not to mention the harshest. It’s common knowledge that to learn from experience makes even the worst decisions worthwhile. Sometimes it’s simply the only thing that one can take away from the curveballs so often thrown one’s way. The problem for the unwise lies in working out what lesson the accused is to take away from his crime. For the introspective the problem is rarely not seeing the problem at hand. They can even take precautions to make sure that one accident is never repeated, by not repeating whatever lead to disaster the first time around. For the experienced, and by that I mean the scarred, the disfigured, those drivers who possibly still hurt every waking day of their lives, there are an entirely different set of problems, regardless of their ability to learn from past experiences. The problem faced by the salty, by the ones who well and truly drove around that block more than they care to admit, is the inability to disengage from what they think they know best, and in doing so they find themselves sat exactly where they were before they even released the handbrake. One cannot escape his past, cannot escape the stupid things they did. But to make matters worse, they begin to see that so many of the reflective, glaring, fluorescent signs they are bombarded with as they hit the highway begin to contradict each other. They blur, they all look the same, sound the same. It seems impossible to follow one highway code without breaking another. At first, one particularly thoughtful individual might find, there seemed to be one over-arching Way. The irrefutable Tao of the road. The one true way. I miss that idea. I’ve reached a point where no matter how hard I try and see things as I used to, either I changed, or the rules did.

And so those rare unfortunates may find the signs begin to undermine each other. Slow down, but speed up. Be cautious, but never so more than you’re being brazen. Make sure to flaunt every last thing you have and haven’t ever done, because nobody likes It when you brag. And so experience fails you. It begins to lie to you, and even when you’re aware that there is clearly deception afoot, you become a man looking at a map with no reference as to where in the fuck they actually are. It’s at this point in my career as a driver that I also realised that for all the years I had been driving, I could not remember where I was going. I knew that I had been driving for a very long time, and I think at certain points I had stopped off at places, and I still remember the people I picked up. Some of them drove with me for the longest time. I always liked having passengers, but sooner or later, the destination is reached, and the journey has come to an end. But I digress. At a certain point, I found myself lost. It was the worst kind of lost, in that not only did I not know at all where and when I was, but in that I had totally forgotten where I had originally intended to go. I could not even remember at what point I had forgotten everything about myself. All I knew was in looking in the mirror, I was sure I didn’t recognise myself. I could not even describe the person who stared back at me. The Driver was a man about which you could say so much, but I’m quite certain that none of the obvious things you could gleam from that countenance were objectively correct. Nothing I’ve ever experienced has been quite so simple as that. First impressions are hard to resist, however. In a way it didn’t matter that I’m sure in some ways I recognised the Driver’s face, because from the moment I met his eyes with mine, I knew he’d always be a simple mystery to me, destined to be my enemy, the one who knew me the best.

He had the look of the man who has learned from experience as he lit that cigarette. The glow from the lighter revealed a face older and more weathered than I’m sure my own face was. He looked bad. I was certain he didn’t have the slightest good intention in mind for me, and yet everything in his eyes and in the tone of his voice struck me as sincere and well meaning. He spoke to me as if he knew me. We’re on the road now aren’t we? I’ve always loved these warm nights, the heady smell in the air. He grinned, and his eyes lit up. I suddenly felt thirsty. Thirstier than I’ve ever felt in my life. There was adrenaline coursing through my body now, and most of my worry had suddenly receded. As he rolled down the window, an old and child-like excitement crossed his face, as a child who is told on Christmas day that the best present has been saved to last. What does it even matter where we’re going? The pleasure’s in the driving. It’s also in the uncertainty. We passed a strange scene by the side of that long road. This struck me because until now it had all been so blank. There was a cow being led down the road by two men, one in front, and one following up from behind. We passed so quickly that the image struck me as an old black and white picture would have, fixed in my mind without the suggestion of fading. It was like some grim scene from a foreign abattoir, and I felt my spirit drop, knowing where the cow’s destination lay despite all his ignorance. He looked complacent if not slightly confused as to his predicament, being lead by his handlers as he was. For some unknown reason, I honestly felt very sad for him. Then I laughed. Fucker should have evolved faster. I couldn’t but help show the slightest disapproval, even if deep down something in me knew it was true. It would be pretty much the same if the boot was on the other foot. Or hoof. You get my drift. I laughed again, and I wasn’t sure if it was humour or desperation I heard in that laugh. It sounded strange to me, but laughs always sound strange when you really listen to them. Everyone knows what a laugh means, but that shit can’t be found in any dictionary I ever heard of.

Hi I'm an 18 year old boy from coventry in England, i am looking to hook up with a man preferably older, someone who can take charge of me! I've always wanted to get tied up, fake raped and slapped around by an older man. I am a young slim good looking lad and am looking to meet up with someone asap!
I have posted anonymous as I don't have a motherless account but if you leave your email I will email you.

Ever since my first ass-fuck a year ago, I can't stop thinking about getting fucked. I've hooked up with a few tops from my college, but I have a big fetish for daddy-types. I jerk off thinking about a big (muscles or chubby) older man pushing his fat cock into me and having me suck on his fingers while he spreads me open. It's so hard to find a good daddy!

My new wife has always had a thing for older guys. All the while we dated she would tell me of guys like her boss hitting on her and taking her to bed. I assumed she fucked the guys before we dated but just before we got married she confessed she had been letting men fuck her whenever they wanted.

She told me she had never refused another man and never made then use condoms. Instead of being mad I was super turned on.

Our honeymoon included her fucking a man who was staying at our hotel on business. We would go sight seeing during the day, then after dinner she would leave for his room., returning in the morning used and well fucked.

On the second night they got together she wore her wedding dress to see him. Nothing on underneath, she walked down the hallway to his room.

She wore of his shirts back in the morning. She couldn't wear the dress as he pulled the zipper off as he stripped her. He also came on it and had used it as a towel to clean both of them after a long night of sex.

He had also made her take off her wedding ring telling her she was his slur and not my wife those nights.

Im a very horny 24 y/o man and this would have to be my dream woman! A hot sexy busty milf! I absolutely love milfs and would love to date marry and impregnate this milf! She gets my cock so hard and i will never leave her for anyone or anything and wouldn't swap her for a hot chick my age or younger lol;)> there's just this fetish about young men and older women that gets me right off!;)>

I have always had a weakness for older men, wearing suits and showing me their hard, throbbing cock. My dad had a best friend that I called Uncle Ed. He was wonderful and handsome. And when I was 11 and beginning to develop as a woman, we found ourselves alone in the house. It was a Sunday morning, right after church. My parents when to get a pizza for lunch. Uncle Ed asked me if I ever saw what a grown man looked like. I said I had seen pictures, but not for real. He asked me if I wanted to see for real. I was so excited and my heart was racing. I said "yes." He was wearing a beautiful dark, blue suit and a red silk tie. He opened his zipper and pulled out his massive cock. He stroked it and it got bigger and bigger. He just looked at my face as I stood there mesmerized by his wonderful cock. It was HUGE and beautiful. We heard the car door slam in the driveway. I ran up to my room. Uncle Ed went to the half-bath off the front hall.

After that, Uncle Ed and I would meet when we could be alone. We never touched each other. But he would always be wearing his suit, and I would always be wearing a dress or a skirt. I'd take off my panties and he would pull out his cock. We would both watch each other masturbate and we'd try to cum together. I used to love to watch him cum. Once I asked him if I could feel the cum he caught in his hankie. I felt it and smelled it and tasted it gingerly. But that was as close as we ever got to each other. I think Uncle Ed really wanted to do more to me, but his friendship with my dad kept him from going farther. I respected that and respected him too.

To this day, I remember Uncle Ed. And every time I see a cock sticking out of a suit, I get so horny. I want to jump the guy and fuck him senseless for Uncle Ed.