Mature Ladies Novels & Stories

That makes me frown, but before I can mull over it, Raven snaps his fingers, and a new set of older women, probably in their forties or fifties, walk naked into the den. They're in a queue, their eyes lowered while the rest of our men jam their hands together in glee. Raven speaks up when they've all stood before him. “Ever tasted an older, fat pussy?” He asks me, making me analyze the milfs. I've never buried myself in someone older before, but the thought makes me high now. I inch closer, taking in the spectacle that are the Milfs—- large breasts, big curvy asses, kissable lips, and somewhat fat belly.

, That old lady replies. Only not her dress is sophisticated as a maid, but also her conversation is also rich. Her accent resembles England's. The choice of her words and the style of addressing are heart-warming. No wonder, she has a lot of experience in her sector. The way she bowed to Erin as if she was bowing before her Lady. The old lady seems to be in her 70's or 80's. 'Age comes with experience', truly said. Erin nods her head in agreement noticing such a graceful manner of her. "She is a perfect example of a Lady's maid."

"The lady of the house has been waiting for assistance in the courtyard. Do not keep her waiting any longer." Relieved but cautious, Aria nodded and quickly followed the other maid, her mind racing with questions. She had narrowly escaped suspicion, but she wasn't safe yet. As they reached the sunlit courtyard, Aria's eyes immediately fell on an elderly woman seated gracefully on a plush chair surrounded by blooming flowers. The woman exuded an air of elegance and authority, her gray hair styled neatly, and her eyes sharp with wisdom that only comes with age.

They were also her favorites; Marylene being the oldest and most trusted employee. Mary was about 52 years old, an old lady with a very big heart. She could very well remember the first time she tasted Mary's cooking, it was literally heaven bursting on her tongue. She had come to ask for the job to support herself and her son since her husband had just passed away. She was a stay-at-home wife so things were hard for them. She shared her passion for cooking with Jim and he gave her a chance, also because she was a very nice lady with kind words and a soothing smile.

However, there was still a trace of regret hidden behind this smile. "What are you talking about? I'm already old and I don't have many years to live. I don't care about the money. I just want my two grandchildren to get married and have kids. Then I'll be able to enjoy a carefree and happy life ." Old Lady McFarland said with a rueful smile. Hearing the Old Lady McFarland mentioned her grandsons, the granddaughters of the old ladies all shyly lowered their heads. Three young ladies of similar age sat at the table. Each one of them was as beautiful as a jade, giving off the impression that they were well educated.

The look of pleasure and ecstasy on her face as she slid up and down his cock was a turn on for all watching. A few minutes later the couch was replaced by a high stool and a tall, chocolate skinned lady appeared holding hands with a much older, though very attractive woman. “June and July for your entertainment and pleasure ladies and gentlemen. For those of you who age is important, June is thirty and July is forty-five. And they are old friends,” someone announces. June is wearing heels, skin tight, black silk slacks and a matching blouse. July is wearing a heels and short black cocktail dress.

With her wedding approaching, she became the center of attention. Whenever people spoke about me now, they simply shook their heads. “Lady Leanora… What a waste of her title as the Royal City’s finest noble lady.” “Exactly. She’s beautiful, elegant, educated, and skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. However, with a sister like that beside her, what can she offer?” One day, Rosalind cornered me in the study and pressed her hand down on my brush.

Her thoughts, her pleasures, her growing independence all laid bare. Mark grew quieter as he aged into his early sixties. His hair thinned, movements slower, but the calm mask never cracked. He still brought women home now and then, their encounters shorter but still detailed in my unwilling view. One older woman rode him slowly in the living room chair one afternoon while Lily was out. Her hips rolled deliberately, taking him deep, breasts pressed against his chest as she kissed him. Mark gripped her ass, guiding her until they both shuddered to climax. I caused the chair to creak and shift unnaturally. The woman laughed nervously. Mark’s eyes scanned the room for me.

All he saw were fair, long legs, accompanied by a chorus of melodious laughter. Chad had not expected that the assassins of the Inkwell Clan were all women! Willow coughed. "Why aren't you greeting him?!" "Mr. Jennings, hello!" Over 40 beautiful women greeted Chad in unison. Their voices were like a flock of singing birds, filling Chad with excitement. However, upon closer inspection, Chad realized that these women vary in age. Willow was the oldest, in her 60s, while apart from a few elegant women in their 40s, the rest were in their 20s and 30s, at the prime of their youths.

Her hair was still flat. She was putting on a short flay night gown that was raised by her almost sagging boobs and her ass which looked pretty and attractive especially with the cellulite-filled legs and thighs. “Snap out of it Zane, this woman you are mentally admiring is your mother. Stop thinking about it.” My inner conscience was trying to calm me down but it was working more. I was already imagining weird things in my own world. I imagined it with my mother’s body and with Liv’s body.