Romans & histoires Age Gap Sex Stories

I let him sleep in the guest room while I enjoyed my freedom. On Tuesday afternoon, I went to a bookstore cafe. I was looking at some novels when a man named Simon started chatting with me. He was around fifty, well dressed, with a calm voice and nice smile. We talked about books for a while, then I told him the truth about my situation. “I caught my husband with another woman,” I said. “Now I am exploring what I missed all these years.” Simon looked at me with interest. “Would you like to explore with me?”

WARNING! THIS IS A NON-CONSENSUAL STORY. PLEASE BE WARNED. IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT AVOID THIS PARTICULAR STORY. As I mentioned, I write based on the prompts readers give if it's not too extreme. This doesn't mean the author supports this in real life. Note: There are limits I won't cross when writing these collections, so when you request a certain story, don't cross a certain line. I won't write it. CHAPTER 1 The bar smelled like spilt beer and old cigarettes. A few people were scattered around the tables. It was late August, and most of the town was at the county fair.

This story is based on a close friend's recollection of her relationship with an older gentleman when she was young. It begins when she is a young soldier stationed in Germany in the 1970's and befriends an older German gentleman. This is a series that takes the reader through her sexual and fetish awakening... Young girl learns from a much older gentleman. Enjoy.. *****

An argument leads to a mother and son becoming much more. NB: This story contains mature themes of erotic sex, incest/taboo sex and of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. Enjoy. >>>> Everyone depicted in this story that is involved in sexual acts is 18 or over. ***** --1-- I'm writing this because I think other people can learn from my experiences. This happened about fifteen years ago, in the early 2000's. I'm not going to be more specific than that. I don't want to hurt the people...truthfully the person...that I love.

⚠️Content Disclaimer: This story contains graphic depictions of explicit sexual acts, including oral sex, anonymous encounters, public restroom settings, gloryhole scenes, multiple partners, and themes of sexual degradation, exhibitionism, and female submission. The content is intended for mature audiences aged 18 and above. Reader discretion is strongly advised. All characters depicted in sexual situations are consenting adults over the age of 18. This is a work of fiction and should not be interpreted as an endorsement of unsafe or non-consensual sexual behavior.

Mike smirked, flipping us suddenly—now he was on top, pinning me down, his weight crushing me into the mattress. He spread my legs wide, hooking them over his shoulders, and drove in balls-deep. The angle hit my G-spot dead-on, making me arch and claw his back. Cum leaked out around his pistoning cock, soaking the sheets, and the wet smacks filled the room. Dad's footsteps paused outside. I could picture him, hand on the knob, brow furrowed. If he opened it now... god, the exposure, the shame mixed with heat, it pushed me closer to the edge.

I panted heavily. He stilled his movements, then looked up to give me a wolfish smile. "No, you don't." Marcello moved my panties aside, plunging two fingers straight inside me, kissing my lips to stop me from crying out. I hadn't had sex in over two years, so I was tight as fuck. He didn't care as he kept moving in and out of me, his thumb stimulating my clit. He was right. How could I hate someone who gave me this kind of pleasure? "Marc… more." I breathed out.

My messages are still there and his name is still there. I don’t open it, I shouldn’t instead I open something else. Search for age gap relationships, the words look ridiculous sitting in the search bar. I almost delete them then I hit enter anyway. Articles load instantly, stories, opinions, warnings, success stories, disasters and I keep scrolling, searching through strangers’ lives for proof that what I’m feeling is either completely insane or survivable. A woman in her twenties married a man twenty years older and they’re still together, another says it ruined her life, another says age didn’t matter and another says it mattered every single day.

“You’ve… done this before?” His laugh was low and filthy, his eyes darkening as they held hers. “Since I was seventeen. Older women are my thing. Married ones especially. They’re always so pent up, so grateful when you give them what their husbands won’t. They come harder, beg louder, do things they’d never admit to in the daylight.”