mature women pictures - Does Mature Women Photos Sometimes Make You Feel Stupid?

Any critiques or criticism are welcomed. I have the best job in the world. ’ or, ‘I’m a doctor, and I save lives! I’m an executive personal assistant. That may be, but my job’s still better. I know what you’re thinking. No, wait, I know it doesn't sound like the best, but I’ll prove it to you. I know what you’re thinking: ‘Apartment, bus, bah!

Rich lifestyle for someone with the "best job in the world"’. ‘I’m a CEO, and I make millions! And it’s true, lots of other jobs earn more, and it’d be nice to have a car, or a yard, or a 401k worth more matureladies than a shoe box, but I’d live on the street sexy old women to keep this job. From there, I whip up a smoothie for breakfast, get dressed in my suit and tie, and out the door of my spartan apartment by seven, so I can catch the seven forty bus to work.

Well, not technically my office, I share it with my boss. When I enter my office, by boss, Mrs Jameson, is always there. I usually give a nice greeting to Lucy, my boss’s non-executive personal assistant, on my way in, and she gives a friendly ‘hi’ back.

She’s a striking woman. This is my first post this this subreddit, and one of my older stories. She stands tall, even without heels, has long brunette hair that’s nearly always in a tight bun, and she carries a little more weight than you see on movie stars, (but most of it is in pleasant places).

My commute isn't too bad, I usually show up at my building by about eight thirty, and at my office by eight forty-five. Let me take you through an average day at my job. Then, I hang up my suit jacket on the hat rack she keeps in her office and crawl under her large desk.

I don’t think Suzette Jameson has ever missed a day or even been late (apparently, being a Vice President of Marketing doesn't have as many perks as you would think). Most days, begins with "My feet could use some relief". She then let’s me know what my duties are for the day. I take off her heels, and start to gently massage her feet. After a while of this, she lets me know to move forward either with a quick "Be sure to get the ankles" or simply by kicking her feet further towards me.

Most days begin with me waking up at six o’clock, doing a quick 15-minute workout, and hopping into the shower. Never, in all my ministrations, does she look down at me or pause in her work. That’s my cue to begin my job, the best job in the world.

I can always hear her writing, shuffling papers, or talking on the phone. I rub my fingers over her sheer nylons, nude older women digging gently into the ball of her foot, slowly working my way down to the heel. It’s never too long after I start on the calves that she indicates, either through words or actions, to move up. She’s never volunteered anything, but she doesn't really talk to me outside of work.

Mrs Jameson wears a wedding ring, but in my six months here I've never had the nerve to ask her about Mr Jameson. It varies, but usually I’m under her desk no more than an hour-and a half before Mrs Jameson gives older naked woman me the go ahead. Every day, when I come in, she gives a quick, "Hello there John," or "How was your weekend?

The absolute best part of my day. Then, I move my massage slowly up her ankles and calves, marveling at the feel of the strong muscles of her legs and the feel of the flesh on top of it. She used to wear panties, but that became too much of a bother. A light dusting of brown pubic hair covers her meaty outer lips, and I always see her pleasure glistening on her inner thighs.

She has a firm demeanor, nearly always business, and has a knack for being as direct-to-the-point as possible without being rude. Massaging her thick thighs is a beautiful experience, and I often wonder if I’m the only who delights in it.

It was like unwrapping a Christmas present. She spreads her legs, pulls up her skirt, and then I see it, her beautiful cunt on display. Rather than dive into her cunt, I lick all around her lips, keeping her mildly aroused, but not so distracted as to be unable to do her work. I’m aroused as well, but I have little opportunity to do anything about it.

I know every millimeter of her, I could sketch that mature woman’s cunt from memory, and tell you which areas are the most sensitive, which I should avoid, and which I should attack directly when she tells me that she needs to cum. Usually, it’s by casually reaching down, placing her hand on the back of my head, and pulling me towards the prize.

Once, she caught me pleasuring myself as I licked her, and she let me know plainly that if she caught me ‘distracted’ again, she’d find a new executive assistant. It’s hard to restrain myself, but I do. I kind of miss it though, even though she rarely wore anything but plain white panties. It was about one forty-five, and she was getting close to another orgasm.

I did so, grateful for the chance to stretch my body. Then she told me in plain terms what she wanted. The last time I fucked her was last Thursday. Don’t be gentle, I need to cum soon. I usually give her three to four orgasms during the course of the day, mostly with my tongue, but occasionally with my fingers, and sometimes with both at the same time.

No further prompting needed, I pulled a condom from my wallet, unzipped my pants, and wrapped myself up. By eleven, I’m usually lapping at her hood, and around the edges of her entrance. Even in that position, she was the boss, and I was her living toy, the perk of being the boss.

"I’m going to bend over the desk now," she said, with the same tone she uses to tell the intern how many creams with her coffee, "and I want you to fuck me hard and fast. Suddenly, she backed up from the chair told me to stand up.

It doesn’t happen terribly often, but every now and again, she mature women free porn let’s me fuck her. I positioned myself at her mature women free porn entrance, and slowly put my dick into place. I fucked and pounded into her over and over. I want to be fully refreshed for my two-thirty". She was wet and warm after all my ministrations, and it was easy to get myself into a rhythm.

This time she moaned a little bit, letting me know that she enjoyed it, but usually she’s all business, even when my cock’s hilt deep in her cunt. It was pleasure beyond pleasure. It isn't long at all, several dozen thrusts, until I felt her rhythmically squeeze my dick, orgasming on me. But the moment soon passed, and Mrs Jameson stood up as I pulled out of her.

I looked over to the desk, and I reveled in the sight of her, bent over, skirt above her waist, and with an aroused yet slightly bored look on her face. Once I got myself situated, I thrust in firmly. Not that I minded in the slightest. I excused myself to her personal bathroom to dispose of the condom, and piss, and she followed up soon afterwards for her ablutions.

My job could be better. I could earn more, the commute could be shorter, I could fuck my boss more often, but I still contend that my job is the best job in the world. But most days I don’t get to fuck her, and I have to pleasure myself at home, with only thoughts of my day to inspire me. Then, I went under her desk as usual, and gave her a nice hidden foot massage while she talked with her boss.

That’s all I ccould take, and I came soon afterwards, filling the condom with my sperm. Then we stood there for a minute, panting and enjoying the afterglow, and for a moment, I forgot I was at work.