Cougar Cocktales Read online

  “Please calm down, Emil!”

  “You don’t tell me to calm down! What the fuck was that woman doing in my house, in my bed, with my husband?”

  “I can explain. Please,” he kept begging.

  My heart began to ache and tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t believe he would do something like this to me, again. I began swinging on him again, all while tears streamed down my face.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he kept saying. Then he said the most stupid thing men always seemed to say once they got caught in the act. “She didn’t mean anything.” Was that supposed to make me feel better? Less hurt? I didn’t understand how her not meaning anything to him was supposed to lessen the blowback of his lying, cheating ass.

  Reflecting back on that horrific day six weeks ago had my stomach doing somersaults. I doubted that I could ever forgive Melvin for the pain and heartache he caused, let alone trust him again. The vivid images constantly burned in my mind, making it impossible for me to be optimistic about our future. I had even gone on a wife strike. I stopped cooking his food, washing his clothes, and even speaking to him. It was like he no longer existed.

  Desperate to get even, I did something I never thought I’d do. I joined Next Generation, a swingers club for women my age. While they encouraged couples to swing together, I was at it alone. I was open for any and everything, no strings attached. I wanted to indulge in all the freaky fun my heart could handle. Melvin had created a beast and he didn’t even know it. I was going to show him that two could play his games. I had forgiven him the first time he’d cheated on me. It was five years after we married. The affair resulted in a child which he had kept hidden for two years. It was by accident that I even discovered the little bastard. Eventually, I took Melvin back. And like a damn fool, I allowed it to happen again. This time, right under my nose.

  The Lafite Rothschild swimming through my system, cheered me on, encouraging the payback. I had given up so much for him, starting with children. And now with my fiftieth birthday around the corner, my dreams of ever having any children of my own was crushed. I was way too old and I’m sure all the stress over the years had only added to my inability to conceive. I was so broken inside and my husband didn’t even realize the damage he had caused. Or maybe he did and just didn’t care. Deep down inside, there might have been some love left for him, but on the surface, there was not. I hated his black ass and there was no sure way to get over what he’d done, other than to go all out and do it ten times better than he did, I reasoned, turning the key to my suite.

  I nervously closed the door behind me and walked through the candlelit room and over to the king-sized bed. It was covered in red and pink rose petals. On top of the petals lay a black silk robe, open handcuffs, and matching lace blindfold. I picked up the gold piece of paper that had step-by-step instructions. I was excited to experience something new. Something passionate, yet forbidden.

  After soaking in a nice warm bath and indulging in a glass of wine, I came to the conclusion that I needed this. My body needed this.

  I walked back over to the bed to complete the next step. I was nude underneath the black robe that hung open, displaying all my womanly goods. On a typical day I was self-conscious about my body, worried that all of the weight I had gained over the years was the reason my marriage had failed. There were many nights that I blamed me, however, at this final hour, my succulent chocolate curves were beautiful.

  I stared at the bed to shake the returning nerves. Deep down a battle had ensued between my morals and the sweet satisfaction of revenge. I took a deep breath and flirted with temptation. I picked up the black lace blindfold and placed it over my eyes, just as the note had said to do. I climbed on the bed and lay flat on my back with my head against the plush pillows. I placed only my left wrist into the handcuffs and locked it.

  Settling into a welcoming state of mind, I relaxed my troubled spirit. Shortly after slipping into serenity, I heard the door creep open. With the blindfold covering my eyes, I couldn’t see a thing. My senses alerted me that this man, this stranger, was eagerly ready to please me inside and out. I composed my apprehension, feeling like a virgin about to experience intimacy for the first time.

  The belt on my robe slowly became undone. It intensified the heat rising from between my legs, causing the room to feel warmer than it actually was. My lover caressed my voluptuous breasts, hips and thighs, causing musical notes to escape my lips. Once his large manly hands parted my legs, my breathing became labored as I anxiously anticipated his next move. Before I knew it, his lips and tongue wrapped around each of my toes.

  “Ummmm…” I was surrounded by darkness. Another sensual moan lifted off my throat and managed to squeeze through my lips. My panted breaths filled the otherwise quiet room as this unknown being grabbed me by both ankles and slid his erection between the soles of my size tens. He shifted the heel of my foot to the base of his dick and measured his heavyweight against it for accuracy. With minimal guidance, I enjoyably stroked him to a stiffer erection. The electricity moving through my body had me tingling in areas I never knew could be turned on.

  Suddenly, a set of warm tongues snaked around my breasts. I started to remove the mask but was stopped. All three men took turns pleasing me with their mouths, each armed with a trick or two of his own. I allowed my body to lose control.

  “Oh yes… Yes…” I hollered out.

  “I came to execute this pussy tonight,” one of them said. “So when I tell you to ride this carousel, I want you to ride this motherfucker hard and fast!”

  My breathing quickened.

  “Oh yes… I’ll ride it… Hard… and fast,” I told him, giving in to my weakest desires.

  I let out a stricken gasp as one of my lovers’ tongues swept over my clit, and another my nipples. My third lover parted my lips with his thumb and pushed his dick inside of my warm, wet mouth. I couldn’t believe what was happening. He tasted sweet on my tongue, better than any cotton candy I’d ever had. As I rolled my lips back and forth, the wetter I grew and the closer I came to releasing the shackles my husband had on me. I wanted to be freed from the deception. Freed from the feeling of inadequacy. Freed from the mental anguish and all the stress he had stored in my heart. I wanted to be free as a bird.

  My head bobbed faster on his length. His dick tasted so good on my tongue but felt even better gliding down my windpipe. I was exhaling and getting my groove back all in one night. I had never experienced an orgy, swinging, or even being with another man. This was all new for me and I was loving every second of it. As I managed to drown out all of my insecurities and worries, my lovers became the perfect distraction and center of my oasis.

  I was on the verge of erupting when I felt that long, hard dick that I could have easily made a pig in a blanket out of, rise up inside of me.

  “Oooohhh!” I greeted with a sensuous cry of satisfaction. He maneuvered through my tightness, his strokes starting out slow. As my waves began to rise, his pace accelerated. One of the faceless men placed his lips on top of mine. Our tongues intertwined while another suckled my breasts. I didn’t know which direction to go or whom to turn to. All I knew was that I was going somewhere, and that the journey felt so damn good.

  I came from the top of my toes to the bottom of my feet, over and over again. It was the best head-spinning, toe-curling, pussy-pounding sex I had ever had in my life. When I left the mansion, I knew right away I had found my new family, and as long as we had each other, I didn’t have to continue to be a victim of a selfish, lying, cheating husband anymore. Now that I was finally free to do me and slowly waking up that side I had suppressed for so long, I was ready to wave my freak flag and take this pussy to an entirely new level.

  JACKIE

  NYMFOMANIA

  When I walked through the wooden double doors of his condo, Sergio’s eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets. He looked even sexier than I remembered, especially with his long, black dreads hanging off his broad shoulders. He had this
rugged sex appeal that the old-fashioned and conceited Jackie would not have ever bat an eyelash or soaked a cotton swab for. Now, this good old pussy would get all juiced up over a tall, chocolate, young man sporting tattoos and baggy jeans. The more swag, the more turned on I was by it.

  I had developed an acquired taste for the roughneck brothas, especially the ones that had the right package, which is why Mr. Sergio Champagne caught my naked eye. I had met him a few months ago at our local gym. I was getting ready to freshen up after an exhausting workout and he was coming out of the men’s locker room. Our shoulders collided and it forced us to stop and just admire one another. When I laid my eyes on him, something told me we would be fucking before the night was up, and boy, was I right. I invited him over to my place and after a delicious home-cooked meal, we got our freak on.

  Unlike most women my age, when I hit the big 5-O, my libido shot through the fucking roof like a cannonball. Mere thoughts of having sex in all sorts of positions and unique places became a daily high for me. Temptation was an aphrodisiac. Any man I couldn’t have, I wanted, and I would go out of my way just to get him. I could never get enough of playing out my sexual fantasies in my mind, which eventually drove me to experimenting with different sex toys, watching porn, and even reading the raunchiest of erotica I could get my hands on. Other than my raging hormones, I couldn’t explain why all of a sudden I was so horny all the damn time, and why I couldn’t stop playing in my pussy every night. I was too embarrassed to talk to my doctor about it and way too private to run my mouth to my holier-than-thou girlfriends. They wouldn’t even begin to understand what a sistah was going through. And Lord knows, I didn’t need their conceited, can’t-do-no-wrong asses judging me. Not when they were all married and had immediate access to in-house dick. The struggle for a single black woman these days was real. All the good men were already snatched up, gay, or even worse—dead. It wasn’t like I wasn’t good enough. I was very attractive, had a banging body, made my own money and had my own house and car—a customized Jaguar XF with the Louis Vuitton interior at that. I didn’t have to showboat, but my bank account spoke for itself.

  I had all this going for me but I couldn’t find a decent man who was compatible with me. It seemed like every time I thought I had a relationship spark, it would quickly fizzle. Mainly because he couldn’t compete with my sexual appetite. I had even been told I was coming on too strong. “You’re too aggressive,” were his exact words. I mean, what the hell…I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t. As the saying goes, a closed mouth don’t get fed. And I’m here to tell you, this bitch couldn’t stop eating!

  In the back of my mind, I had always felt I had an addiction to sex but would never accept it. Nowadays, I admit it proudly…I’m a nymphomaniac. I would masturbate at least six times a day, seven days a week. It didn’t matter where I was. Home, work, gym, grocery store, didn’t matter. Hell, I’ve even masturbated in church. That’s right. In church. Pastor Garvin had always been my secret crush. I went to church faithfully every Sunday to praise and worship, but I also went to see my man. I would often imagine us getting in a quickie after one of his sermons. I know I was wrong, but I had a serious addiction. Sex was my food, and I had to eat in order to stay alive. Well, at least that was my way of justifying my sexual activities before I Googled it. I was surprised to find that I was not alone. I had found my diagnosis. I was suffering from a hypersexual disorder. That was why I couldn’t help myself. I had my preferences, but honestly, I would fuck anything as long as it was legal. I even kept my old beaus in heavy rotation and often propositioned them to a good old-fashioned booty call. I mean, who in the hell in their right mind would turn down a good lay!

  When I decided to accept me for me, I released any inhibitions that might have been hiding inside. Although I was reveling in my liberating lifestyle, I tried to be considerate of others. I had even made a few vows of my own. One, I would never involve myself with a married man. Two, I would never be someone’s side chick or whore. And three, I would never date a man younger than twenty-five. Sad to say, I broke every last one of those rules.

  My caramel-brown skin glistened under the dim lighting that established the mood we were both in. The dress I wore hugged every single curve on my short frame, as well as it should have, given what I paid for it. Underneath the wig I wore, I was a natural girl. But tonight, this $400 extension flowed like Indian silk down the center of my back. The bulge in Sergio’s pants saluted me from only a few feet away. It was no secret that he couldn’t wait to tap this pussy again. He had admitted that much in a text. But what was hard to figure out about this man was if he was boyfriend material. I wanted something steady. Ongoing. And even in the short amount of time we spent together, I saw this thing that we had going on, headed somewhere. I just didn’t want to scare him away by asking too many questions too soon. He was young and probably not quite ready to commit. That I could understand. But I wanted him all to myself and the best way to make that happen was to cancel out my competition. I didn’t even know if he was seeing someone serious, but I sure as hell was going to find out.

  I struck a sexy pose, giving him an eyeful of opportunity before strutting in his direction. I was poetry in slow motion that even a blind man could see. I had the body and the brains, so there was no doubt in my mind that he would be open to giving us a try.

  His Versace Medusa head cufflinks made a wavering reflection over my gray eyes as he grabbed my face softly by the chin and kissed my lips. He didn’t have to say a word. His hard dick pressing up against me did all the talking. Translating his every thought and desire.

  “Something smells so delicious,” I said after unwrapping my tongue from around his. He dropped another kiss on my lips and grabbed a handful of my ass. He gave it a good squeeze.

  “That’s just a little something I threw together…but this right here is the main entrée,” he said, pressing his erection against my stomach.

  “And is that right?”

  “You damn skippy.”

  I smiled, loving the verbal foreplay.

  “So what do you say I help you out of this tight dress so you can give that kitty cat room to breathe?”

  “What’s the rush? We have all night. Besides, aren’t you going to show me around your bachelor’s pad?”

  He pulled me closer into his embrace. My head fell back as he began to tongue my neck.

  “You wanna see the pad? I’ll show you the pad all right.”

  I held on tight as he swept me off my feet and carried me over to the kitchen island. The polished red marble was cold against my skin, but the steam rising from my pussy quickly provided a blanket of warmth. We fell into another intense kiss and soon his fingers began going for a stroll. He removed my shoes before caressing my legs and thighs. He slid my panties down my smooth-shaven legs and let them drop to the floor. Slowly my dress began to inch above my waist, exposing my hairless snatch. He quickly undressed while kissing me simultaneously. My pussy was on fire and I couldn’t wait for him to extinguish the flames.

  I raised my dress above my head and tossed it behind me. He hungrily latched onto my perky D cups and proceeded to polish my skin with his warm, wet tongue.

  “That’s a good boy,” I said, echoing a moan.

  His warm lips circled my swollen, chocolate nipples while his right hand slid up and down one of my outstretched legs. He lowered his face closer to my pussy and kissed the tip of my arousal before taking it all into his mouth. Once he was able to get a nice grip, he took my budding flower between both his lips and sucked it like a skinless peach. With no hands, only his tongue, he divided the pudgy lips of my opening and reintroduced himself. I nearly came all over the place the second his lips met mine. I grabbed the back of his head and outstretched my legs into a V-shape. Half my ass hung off the island top as he lapped up my dripping nectar.

  “Oh, baby!” I rocked my lower half against his face as he devoured me right there in the kitchen. After icing his tongue with my
sweet cum, I turned completely around, pulled myself to my knees, and allowed him the pleasure of tasting me from behind. He slapped me on the ass a couple of times before eating me whole.

  “Oooohhh, Sergio!” I moaned. “Keep it right there. Oh yes. Just like that,” I coaxed as he tongue-fucked me doggie-style. I embraced his creativity while screaming for more of where that came from. “Yesss…” I moaned into a hard labored climax.

  I slowly turned my body around and faced my new young lover. I was panting, but I was in full throttle. I slid off the island and dropped to my knees. He was hooked like a Chiquita banana, ripe and ready. I drenched his dick with my saliva and then flicked my tongue across his tip. Soon after, all ten inches found room inside my mouth. I sucked his dick with wisdom and skill, patience and appreciation. I needed him to forget about the other woman in his life, if indeed he had one. It was turning me on watching his eyes roll to the back of his head as I sucked out his creamy sauce. It meant I must’ve been doing one helluva job. My lips continued to gyrate up and down his pole. Once my mouth was good and wet, I relaxed my jaws and took him on a joyride back down my throat.

  “Suck it, Vickie,” he said.

  I stopped and allowed him to slip out of my mouth.

  “Who in the hell is Vickie?” I shot, looking around.