Latoya: Stuffed by Young Hunk

It all started when I was caught in a meeting that I attended on a half-day work assignment, which fit in well with my college coursework.

“I’m sorry, everyone, I just don’t know what to say anymore. I know my daughter is a behavior problem, but I’ve tried everything to get her to behave. Her dad is long gone and I work a lot. Truthfully, I’m not the best role model since I battle my own demons.”

I could see she had been burned by love, yet still sought it, even if it was of the short-term variety. She continued talking, my thoughts zoning out as she did. Or, more accurately, I zoned out on the minutiae of what she was saying. As I listened to her, my heart raced wildly and my head spun. She was an African-American woman in her late 30s, her braids cascading over her shoulders highlighting her caramel colored skin. Her curves were so perfect that they could have been etched out of marble; her breasts perky and substantial, speaking of a life well spent. The age gap between us was obvious, yet I felt no shame. On the contrary, I was ecstatic to see such beauty.

I couldn’t help but imagine what she would look like without her clothes on, her body pressed up against mine. It was a forbidden thought, one that I knew I shouldn’t entertain, but I couldn’t help myself. I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and I couldn’t resist the temptation. As the meeting ended and people began to file out of the room, I waited until she was alone. She looked up at me as I approached, a hint of confusion in her eyes.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Hi, my name is Jack.”

“Hi, Jack. I’m Latoya.”

Despite my nerves jingling, I forced myself to talk. “I know this might sound crazy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you during the meeting,” I blurted out.

She looked at me skeptically, but there was a glimmer of amusement and curiosity in her eyes.

“What are you saying?” she asked.

“I want to ask you out on a date,” I said, taking a step closer.

Stifling a hearty laugh, she gave a sympathetic look. “That’s very kind of you, sweetie, but I’m old enough to be your mother.”

“I know,” I replied. “But, I’m 19, and I’m an adult. Can we at least go out on a date?”

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t think so. But, if you’d like, we can exchange numbers, and maybe we can casually chat sometime?”

This was a shitty consolation prize, yet I still took her up on it. Saving her number in my phone, I did my best to take defeat with class, and left the meeting crestfallen.

Latoya — 2 Days Later

Guilt has eaten at me these past couple of days, as I’ve acknowledged I was too hard on that young man, Jack, during the meeting for my daughter. Truthfully, he was cute, plus I ain’t been with a man in months! What’s more, I ain’t been with a white man, ever. I couldn’t help but remember the way he looked at me, the way his eyes lingered on my body, how his voice shook when he asked me out. It was flattering, to say the least; and, while I knew it was wrong to entertain any thoughts of him, I couldn’t help it. As I sat on my couch, scrolling through my phone, I came across his name. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should text him. But before I could chicken out, I did so.

“Hey Jack, it’s Latoya. How are you?” I waited anxiously for his response, my heart racing with anticipation. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed.

“I’m good, how about you?” his message read. I smiled to myself, feeling giddy like a schoolgirl. “I’m doing alright,” I replied. “Was wondering if you wanted to come over for a drink tonight? Recalling he was 19, I added, “I mean, you can have soda or tea.”

There was a pause before he replied. “I’d love that!”

An hour later, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Jack standing there, looking even more handsome than I remembered. He was tall and lean, with broad shoulders and piercing blue eyes that made my heart skip a beat. I led him to the living room, where we sat down on the couch and made small talk. I noticed he kept glancing at my cleavage, and I couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked, trying to redirect his attention.

“Sure, I’ll have a Coke if you have one,” he replied, his eyes still fixed on me. I hesitated for a moment before heading to the kitchen to grab a beer and a Coke. As I handed it to him, our fingers brushed against each other, sending shivers down my spine.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip.

We continued talking, our conversation flowing easily. As the night went on, I found myself getting more and more attracted to him. His easy confidence and charming smile were hard to resist. And when he leaned in to kiss me, I couldn’t help but melt into it. Our lips met in a fiery embrace, his hands roaming over my body, sending waves of pleasure throughout me. He was eager, and I felt a rush of lust course through my body, as I was reminded of just how badly I had been yearning for a man to make me feel loved. His hands rested on my thighs, inching inward. I could feel the heat in my body rising. His hands crept up my thighs and, grabbing my ass, squeezed it tightly. I moaned, unable to resist. His hands slipped inside my shorts, as his fingers traced the cleft of my ass, before unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans.

Well, he’s going straight for the kill, ‘eh?

I could feel my panties getting wet as his hand slid down my bare crotch, slipping a finger inside me. I moaned, desperate for him, knowing he was hungry for me. I reached down and undid his pants, pulling them to his feet. With his cock liberated, I stroked it, then began to suck his cock. He pulled my hair as my head bobbed up and down. I could feel him getting harder and harder in my mouth. His breathing got heavier and I could tell he was close. I pulled off his cock and stood up next to him, freeing myself of my clothing until I stood naked in front of him. He did the same, both of us naked.

“Jack, I’m never a slut like this, I promise,” I say, omitting the part about never being a slut, due to a lack of recent partners, and not by choice. “I don’t usually have sex after just meeting a guy, okay?” Looking at him, I felt a bit foolish, considering he was a 19-year-old, red-blooded male, and didn’t need a convincing backstory to have sex.

“It’s fine, baby, just get on my dick,” he replied, his chest heaving. “Wait! First, can I titty fuck you?”

Nodding, I dropped to my knees, taking his ample length and girth between my bouncy Nubian mounds. After a short spell, he gave me a look that said he couldn’t wait any longer. The feeling was mutual. Straddling him like a cowgirl, I positioned his cockhead at my entrance. Then, with a moan, I lowered myself onto it. He filled me completely, my body craving more of his cock. Jack bucked his hips against mine, fucking me harder than I had been fucked in a very long time. I moaned, my pussy clenching around him as I bounced, his balls slapping around while I smashed down on his manhood, using his cock as a stress reliever. His hands groped my tits, squeezing them, before grabbing my hips, banging me off of him. He pounded my pussy without mercy, his cock hitting my g-spot at a perfect angle, my pussy tightening around him and spraying my juices all over his cock, mixing with his. As I came down from my orgasm, I was surprised to feel his cock was still hard as a rock, and ready for more fucking.

“Let’s change positions,” I gasped, going down onto all fours atop the sofa cushions. “I want you to fuck me like I’m your fucking bitch,” I say, with a sense of urgency in my voice, feeling my orgasm rising. He began thrusting, harder and deeper. I could feel the pressure rising. “Cum inside me!” I pleaded, feeling the pressure in my pussy rise to a breaking point. “Cum hard, Jack!”

I felt him twitch inside me and my body convulsed as I felt him pump his cum into me, giving me a creampie. We collapsed on the sofa, his cock temporarily retreating into a placid state as he held me from behind. Playfully, he fondled a breast, swatting it around, which elicited giggles from me. Jack kissed me on the ear, then whispered, “Do you want me to go now?”

“Hell no!” I promptly answered. “Why do you ask? Do you want to leave?”

“Hell no,” he quipped, kissing the nape of my neck.

At that moment, I knew our upcoming weekend would help us make up for a long time of lost sex.

The End