His name, I knew, was William, and he wanted to fuck me. It was the first time we’d ever met, no words had been exchanged between us, but his doe-brown eyes spoke words of torrid lust in their gaze. The fact that his jaw dropped, his tongue snaked over his lips, and his head fell and rose slowly as he leered at me in horny desire, devouring my body with his hungry gaze, alerted me to his passions more than the bulge in his pants. When we shook hands in greeting, he didn’t clasp my outstretched appendage; he caressed it.

Perhaps it didn’t help matters that I was dressed in sandals, a tight, white tank top, and a wispy, patchwork, mid-thigh gypsy skirt. My nipples and areolas were plainly visible through the sheer material, and my tits bounced enticingly with every minuscule movement of my body. He stared, gawked, and drooled. However, my husband was in the barn with me, so William kept his lust in check.

“This is my lovely neighbor, Krystal, William,” Bill said to him. “She helps me with the horses and keeps hers here.”

Bill is our neighbor, an older man in his sixties; he’s an amalgam of every southern farmer trope. Balding, with close-cropped, gray hair, he’s a sweet man and quite fond of me, as well as my predilection to dress revealingly. Bill’s acreage surrounds our property on three sides, but his property is vast. It’s a five-minute walk from our back door, through the woods, to his house. He possesses the uncanny ability to always show up at the pond whenever my friends and I decide to go skinny-dipping or find some reason to visit every time I’m nude.

Bill’s real name is William Junior. His family, apparently lacking imagination, names each first son William. Bill’s son, Bill III, passed the name onto William. I could see the family resemblance in his stocky, muscular build, soulful eyes, and scraggy hair. But William’s twenty-year-old body was vibrant with the vitality of youth, his handsomeness fresh and clean. His thoughts, however, as his features grew into a mask of dirty lust, were quite dirty. I could tell that much.

“This is my grandson, William,” our neighbor proudly announced. “He’s here for a few days while on Spring Break.”

We exchanged pleasantries, getting to know one another for a few minutes. All the while, William’s eyes roamed over my body. There’s offensive sexual attention and the fun sort; this was the latter. As the grandson of a dear friend, William automatically got the benefit of the doubt. The fact that he was obviously inexperienced with women compelled me to tease.

A more experienced young man would have openly stared. At the very least, he would not stammer, stutter, and get embarrassed when he got caught trying to look up my skirt. I found it to be flattering and highly arousing. My husband and Bill got into their usual conversations, being good friends, and William volunteered to help me with my horse. It was my four-legged companion’s rub-down time, which meant brushing his fur and a quick wash.

“So, what are you majoring in?” I asked, turning to face Arion, my horse, bending deeply at the waist to brush his hind leg. Of course, that made the hem of my wispy, patchwork skirt rise, exposing most of my thighs. If William had been a bit more bold, he could have squatted and seen my promised land, but, alas.

I turned my head, one hand against my horse to steady myself, and saw him staring at my butt. He caught my eye and knew that I’d noticed him leering at my ass. William’s eyes grew wide, looking comical, and his mouth opened, a sharp, guilty intake of breath audible. I ignored his lecherous gaze and pretended to be engrossed in my chores. That didn’t stop me from wiggling my ass, enticingly.

“Um, computers, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” I shrieked, teasing. “How fucking old do you think I am.” I stressed the word “fucking,” just to plant the kernel of the idea in his mind—not that I needed to.

“Middle, maybe late twenties.”

“Oh, how sweet! I bet you drive all the girls wild on campus.”

“Nah, not really.”

“Hand me the bucket over there, please,” I requested, standing up abruptly to make my boobs bounce.

Small talk continued, me being more and more of a dirty prick-tease. I stretched, bent, knelt, and dipped, giving him a sensual show of my feminine attributes. Somehow, I “accidentally” got the warm, sudsy water all over my shirt. The thin, white fabric adhered to the contours of my breasts, becoming translucent. I might as well have been topless, except the wet fabric was sexier than raw nudity. It had the desired effect; in the close confines of the horse stall, his hard cock was as evident as my nipples. I may be in my forties, but I’ve still got it. I can make young bucks horny and hard for me.

“Jesus, woman!” Bill exclaimed as I hugged him before we left. “Do you even own a bra?”

“Tell you what, Bill,” I teased, smiling, “For now on, when I come to the barn, I’ll keep myself covered. Would you like that, instead of drooling over my tits?”

“We’re all adults here,” he insisted, “wear whatever you feel comfortable in.”

A few minutes later, my husband and I were walking through the woods, hand in hand. William’s poorly disguised lust had fired up my libido, and I was dripping wet from my teasing.

“Honey,” I began, “did you notice that…”

“You want to fuck William.” His words cut mine short.

“No, you perv. Did you notice that he wants me?” I adopted a fun, teasing tone. “I’m offended that you’d think I want his cock.”

My husband grabbed me around the waist and pulled my body against his. His hot, moist lips descended upon mine, and we kissed, passionately. His hands, somehow, caressed me everywhere simultaneously. My husband's hands groped my ass, squeezing it with the precise amount of urgent neediness and pressure to make my slutty cunt flow. Fingertips grazed the sensitive spots at the nape of my neck, between my shoulder blades, and lightly scratched down the sides of my torso, making my volcanic passion erupt with wet, fiery need. My husband’s palms ran across my thighs, kneading the backs of them before cupping my nude behind, some fingers snaking between my molten thighs to tease my hot, wet pussy.

His voice, whispering in my ear, was a manly, husky seduction. “Of course he wants you; you are the most divinely perfect creature to grace this green earth. But, you wouldn’t have even noticed if you weren’t also attracted to him.”

I was going to retort, but his left hand left my engorged, taut nipples and descended to my swollen clit. My legs buckled at the contact, lightning bolts of blissful, erotic bliss shooting through my entire body. All I could do was grab hold of his muscular torso while he held me upright and let the waves of passion consume me.

“I’m fucking going to cum. Oh, fuck.”

It was a quick trip to orgasm town, but that didn’t lessen the intensity. I screamed at the setting sun, my hips bucking so wildly that I pulled a muscle in my thigh.

“Well, I might fuck him, now that you brought it up. What do you have to say about that?”

“That you would win any wet T-shirt contest you ever entered,” he guffawed. Arm in arm, we went home.

Later that evening, long after the sun had gone down, I noted that some of the apples we had were getting near the end of their edible lifespan.

“Sweetheart,” I cooed. “These apples are getting ready to turn. I’m going to go treat the horses. Be back later.”

Being early Spring, just a few days past the equinox, the nighttime air was crisp and cold, making my nipples jut out like beacons. The night sky was clear, the stars winking and twinkling around the huge, waxing moon. Wild denizens of the forest cried out in greeting, marking my passage. Oddly, a light was still on in the barn. I didn’t think anything of it as I walked inside, smelling the thrilling aroma of the earth, hay, horses, and nature. At first, I thought I heard some movement, but, as I listened, intently, I decided that it was just one of the horses shuffling around.

As I rounded an interior corner, heading toward my horse’s stall, I heard that slapping, shuffling sound once more. Growing leery, cautious, and perhaps a bit spooked, I began approaching the sounds, coming from my horse’s stall, slowly and quietly. I chanced a glance into the stall and had to stifle a laugh; the source of the mysterious, previously foreboding sounds was William.

He was facing away from me, his back against the wall of the stall. From my vantage, I had a good, profile view. William’s eyes were closed, and his pants were down around his ankles. His massive shock of unruly, brown hair had a few flecks of hay clinging to it, his shirt was cast off, lying on the straw that lined the stall, and he was furiously masturbating. His cock was a little larger than average and somewhat thick; his right hand pumped over the shaft while his other hand fondled his balls. Although not ribbed, his stomach was flat, taut, and alluring. The way it heaved as he stroked himself made my pussy gush.

A million and six thoughts rushed through my mind as comprehension dawned. I couldn’t decide if I should politely slink away and pretend that I never saw his sexy, manly hand furiously pumping up and down his yummy-looking erection, or clear my throat and embarrass him. I could say something, scaring him, maybe pull out my phone and have a budding, new career as a blackmailer, or any of a multitude of possibilities.

William looked very enticing as I pondered my next actions. His youthful body was hard-chiseled, the veins in his forearms sticking out as he pumped his hard-on. I simply stared, quietly setting the bag of apples down on a nearby wooden box, so I could emulate his actions and finger myself while I played the silent, appreciative voyeur.

His stroking continued, and William tossed his shaggy mane from side to side, groaning. His hand sped up, and he humped his hips up and down, meeting his thrusting pounding. Lost in his own fantasies, William’s head never once turned my way.

My fingers reached between my steaming thighs, finding a sopping wetness between them. Two fingers easily slid into my sodden hole, my thumb sliding over my swollen clit as I watched. Instinctively, I matched his pace, thrusting to his tempo.

“You hot, little babe,” I heard him moan. “If you were here, right now, I’d fuck your brains out.”

At about the same moment I realized that he was nearing orgasm, I’d decided upon my course of action. Without uttering a single word, I pulled my dripping fingers out of my cunt, grabbed the apples, and opened the stall’s gate.

“Aaargh! Aaah… fuck,” a very panic-stricken William screamed. “I’m so sorry. Oh, shit. Sorry.” 

William tried to run behind my horse, blocking my view, but he tripped over his pants, landing, ungracefully, on the freshly laid straw. I giggled at that.

“Don’t mind me,” I smiled at him.

Ignoring his shamed face, defeated posture, and deflating cock, I pet Arion, my horse, and fed him an apple. I pretended not to notice William hastily pulling his jeans back up.

“You’re not going to tell Grandpa, are you?” His voice was pleading, begging.

I dropped another apple into the feed trough, then turned to face the young man. “Why’d you stop?”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” he lied.

“Stop lying. I hate that. You were masturbating; don’t even try denying it. I saw you. Nice cock.”

“I wasn't… huh?”

“I said, ‘Nice cock.’ Pull it out for me.”

“But you’re married.”

I sank to cliché level. “Married, not buried. Pull your cock out and stroke it for me.”

“Um, aah, well… err.” William was all covert bravado when he was just leering at my tits and ass, earlier. When confronted with somebody unafraid of sexuality, he crumbled—putty in my slutty hands.

“I heard what you said, you dirty boy. I'm here now. Are you going to fuck my brains out?”

“I, um, ah, I… um, was. I wasn’t talking about you. It was somebody from school that, err, I…”

As the young man, slightly less than half my age, weakly stuttered through his excuses, I turned to face him, approaching him with a slow, hip-swiveling, gait. My hands grabbed the bottom of my flimsy tank top, and I pulled it up and off my torso, exposing my breasts and their hard nipples.

“Pull it out and stroke your big, hard cock for me. Look at my tits. See how horny you’ve made me. I saw you staring at me with lust in your eyes, earlier. Now’s your chance.”

He just stood there like a shaggy-haired moron, staring.

Slowly, I repeated, “Pull… out… your…fucking… cock.”

By then, I’d reached him, and he was too stunned to act, so I took matters into my own hands. I dropped to my knees, grabbing at his pants. He hadn’t buttoned them up; all I had to do was to tug, and his cock sprang forth, half-hard, again. Feeling powerful and naughty, I looked up into his eyes, smiling in my lusty zeal. One hand reached out and encircled his growing member.

As soon as my hand touched his cock, it jumped in response to my touch, immediately growing to full-mast. I had one hand free, which made it easy to finger myself as I stroked his manhood.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” I observed, my words coming out in impassioned moans. “Cum for me. Shoot your load all over me.”

“But your husband.”

“Gets off on it, so stop worrying and cum for me.”

I increased my pace, both on his cock and on my pussy.

“Oh,” I purred, “you like your balls played with. Is that it?”

Since my head and face were mere inches away from his throbbing cock, it was quite easy for me to tilt my head and suck his balls into my mouth. That elicited a deep, throaty groan, and his throbbing shaft pulsed in my hand. I sucked harder, stroking faster, and then commanded the young man to cum for me.

“Shoot your fucking jizz all over my slutty tits,” I ordered William.

“Nnngh, aah, ooh, aww,” he growled.

I felt his hardness quivering in my hand, and it swelled up, increasing in girth, as his breathing came in rapid, heaving gasps. Stroking the shaft so rapidly that my forearm began to hurt, I was relentless, determined to milk his cum from his sack.

“Yes!” I screamed as William’s knees shook and spurts of hot, messy spunk shot from the head of his beautiful lance.

I aimed the first spurts at my boobs, feeling the searing liquid splash onto my hot flesh. Feeling dirty and greedy, I pointed his spewing manhood at my lips, taking a shot on the tongue and more on my lips. As he came, I kept on stroking until his cum-soaked cock deflated.

William bent down, not knowing what to say, and reached for his pants in an attempt to pull them back up.

“Not so fast, young man,” I lectured. “I’m not done with you, yet. I do believe that you said something about fucking my brains out.”

“Ah…um.” He pointed to his flaccid flesh.

“Pants off. Lie down.” I pointed to the hay. William shrugged and obeyed my desires.

Unceremoniously, I straddled his face, shoving my wet pussy against his lips. I didn’t even bother removing my skirt; I thought that it made it seem all the hotter. Slick and shiny with his ejaculate, his cock looked too inviting to ignore. Moaning as his tongue touched my molten cunt, I plunged my head over his soft cock, tasting his cum, and began sucking it in earnest.

One thing I love about men his age is that they have quick recovery times. A combination of writhing my slutty cunt all over his face, soaking his features with my nectar, dirty talking, and sucking on his member got him fully erect in the amount of time it took me to cum twice on his face. His oral skills were raw and rudimentary, but what he lacked in expertise, he made up for with youthful enthusiasm.

“Now, fucking fuck me,” I commanded.

I stepped out of my skirt, letting it fall to the straw, and walked out of the stall, bending over the front tire of Bill’s tractor.

“Fuck me hard. Fuck my brains out, just like you promised.”

He was nervous, although I’m sure he’d be bragging to all his friends about the slutty, older woman he banged on Spring Break. It took a minimal amount of shuffling, but I quickly got his hard cock where it belonged—inside my dripping hole, pleasuring me.

“Fuck me. Fucking fuck me. Harder! Spank my ass. Rougher! Be brutal, William.” I was resting on one elbow, slamming my body backward to meet his thrusts. One hand reached around my back to grab his hand from my hips. I forcefully guided his hand around my body until his fingers were at my clit. His inexperience made for a few awkward moments, but I took his index finger and let him feel my engorged clit, moaning at the pleasurable contact.

“That’s my clit,” I informed him. “Stroke it like this.” I moved his finger over my sensitive nub, letting him feel my preferred speed and pressure. “That’s it! Don’t fucking stop. Keep doing that—just like that. Oh, fucking fuck. I’m cumming. Feel me cumming on your cock while you fuck me.”

I’m famous for my clumsiness, and being pounded hard from behind, while bent over a tractor wheel, amid an intense orgasm caused me to plummet to the packed dirt floor. Luckily, William was strong enough to keep me from calamity, and he kept his cock buried in my spasming cunt the entire way down.

There in the dirt, I begged him to take me harder, give me more orgasms, and shoot his second load all over my gyrating ass. The weight of his body pinning me down, my tits and face in the dirt, William pounded me, his relentless thrusts growing harder, faster, and plunging deeper.

“I’m close,” William announced between grunts, pants, and moans.

“On my ass. Paint my butt with your cum.”

My wish was William’s command. He screamed like a wild man, pulling his cock out just as it erupted. Grunting in release, he stroked his hard shaft as it shot gobs of sticky, white sweetness all over my writhing ass.

“I can’t believe you did that,” a dismayed William mused.

“I’ll be back here tomorrow at eight to go on a horse ride. I’d rather ride you, but that’s your choice. See you later, William.”

“You’re not telling Grandpa about this, are you?”

“Nope. I’ll keep your secret from Bill.”

A few minutes after I left, I arrived back home to my smiling husband.

“I see you gave a treat to more than just your horse,” he quipped.

“Well, William was there, and I took advantage of the opportunity.”

“How was it?”

“He was good, but his father, William III, was better.”