It’s Sunday evening and I’ve just sat down on the sofa with my husband, ready to spend the rest of the night watching television together, when my phone buzzes.
A message.
Asking if I’m still up for a date.
I laugh to myself.
Of course this happens the moment I’ve finally settled down.
I show hubby the message and we talk about it for a moment. He’s fie with it.
That familiar feeling always hits me then – that strange switch between ordinary married life and the complete different world that waits outside the front door.
This time the date is in a city about an hour from home.
Not exactly around the corner.
Which somehow makes it feel even more impulsive.
My Bull says he’ll be waiting for me by the hotel lifts.
Simple. Direct. No dinner plans. No drinks first. Just straight to the point.
There’s something exciting about that.
One minute I’m sitting comfortably beside my husband, halfway into a lazy Sunday night. The next, I’m already mentally switching gears, thinking about what to wear, what to take and how this unexpected night might unfold.
It’s funny how quickly normal life can change.
And maybe that’s exactly what makes it so addictive.
Once I arrived at the hotel, I parked the car and took the lift from the underground garage up to the lounge. The moment the doors opened, I practically walked straight into him.
Perfect timing.
After greeting my Bull with a kiss on the cheek, we stepped back into the lift together and he led me up to his room.
It took me a moment to adjust. This date was different. Very different.
Because this time, my date was a young man in his early twenties.
That alone changed the energy.
There’s something about the contrast – the age difference, the nerves, the inexperience – that makes everything feel a little more intense.
Once in the room, he asked me what I wanted to drink. He had already prepared coke and ice tea, which honestly made me laugh. No wine, no champagne, no grand gestures. Just soft drinks.
Very early twenties.
He looked nervous, really nervous.
When I sat down at the foot of the bed, we stared talking a little. Small talk. Careful conversation. But the awkwardness was waning in the room like tick air.
So I decided to make the first move.
I moved closer and kissed him. The poor boy was practically trembling. And at that point I knew he didn’t have much experience.
That became even clearer when we kissed more. His technique gave him away immediately – less smooth kissing, more enthusiastic guessing. More biting than kissing, really.
Not bad. Just…inexperienced. And honestly, that was kind of cute.
But despite the nerves, one thing was obvious: he was definitely excited.
That made me smile.
I pulled my Bull closer against me and could feel just how hard his cock already was. Yes, his cock gave it away.
At that point, there wasn’t much use pretending we were still here for small talk. So I took his hand and led him toward the bed.
I lie down beside him and take the lead. My Bull runs his hands over my body very cautiously. I tale off my bra and with his trembling hands he touches my tits – nervous and almost unsure of himself.
I try to help him relax a little by kissing him, then gently take his hold of his cock. He’s still hard, so I decide to take it into my mouth. As I suck his cock, his hand moves through my hair. He strokes my back and I can tell he wants to touch my pussy. I shift position slightly so he can reach my pussy more easily while I keep sucking his cock.
His trembling fingers slip inside my thong and brush gently around my clitoris. I can hear his breathing quicken while I keep sucking him. He touches my pussy carefully, only letting the tips of his fingers slide inside my married pussy.
Then I climb on top of him and guide his cock inside my pussy again. My Bull enjoys it quietly. He’s still touching my body gently, his hand trembling as they move over me. I ride his cock, slowly first, then like a real cowgirl pick up the pace.
I kiss my Bull, then lie beside him and pull him on top of me, guiding is cock back inside. He doesn’t dare go too deep at first. His movements are slow and careful, almost as if he’s afraid of hurting me.
“Can I fuck you harder?” My Bull asks.
“Yes, please,” I reply.
My Bull dares a little more now. I encourage him with soft words like, “Go on,” “Yes, that’s it,” and “fuck me harder.” My Bull picks up the pace, faster and faster, until he finally collapses beside me on the bed. He’s filled my pussy with his cum.
“Shall we have shower together for a bit?” My Bull asks.
“Sounds good,” I tell him.
He lets the water warm up while I grab my hair clip. Then I walk over to him and step into the shower beside him. His cock is hard again and under the warm water I wrap my hand around his cock and start to stroke it.
My Bull comes and with that the date is over. I get dressed, tell my him I had a nice time and head back to my car.
Note to self: once and never again. This boy doesn’t make the cut for my list of Bulls.
On the other hand, there was something undeniably thrilling about letting myself be taken by such a young man while being a married mother. And when I get home, my husband will be lucky – because I didn’t come and I’m still burning with desire.
On the drive back, all I can think about is how turned on I still am and how in a little while I’ll be going to sleep with the cum of two men still inside my pussy. My husband’s…and that of a young man almost half his age.
Another note to myself: okay…I have to admit, there’s something incredibly exciting about letting younger men fuck me.