7 More MILF Stories (3 page)

I turn my mind to what is important. The sex
is as good as promised and so much more.

Thank you for reading this far. We have a
little bit of an odd story for you up next as a bonus to add to the
value of the original story. If you enjoy this then you might like
the Sexy In Public Collection. Check it out on your favorite e-book
vendor.

Anal Beads With The Professor

(Sexy M/F Teacher And
Student Public Sex
)

Professor Harris won't stop teasing me. Everytime I think I'm
close, he pulls on them – forcing me back down, taking me to a warm
place where my rear burns a bright warm pink with the size of
them.

"You are not allowed to cum, student," he keeps telling
me.

I don't think I could with how watchful he is.

Sitting in the first row, his spectacles glitter in the light
of the empty lecture room. His vision is center on the pink in
front of him where the two digits that are turning me almost red
with pleasure of them are working around. Every prickle of sweat,
heavy breath, wanting look is reflected to me in those polished
surfaces. He never looks away and never gives me a break from his
attentive gaze. I lick my lips knowing what hides behind the desk
in front of him.

"You are about to cum," he notes.

A tug on the white string that is connected to his right hand
index finger sends a shiver through my entire body. My large
breasts jiggle slightly under the weight of my intook breath. His
eyes never leave me.

"You like to be watched, student?" he asks casually, knowing
that such words will turn me on, "Is this really a respectable
fetish for a young girl of your age attending such a prestigious
school?"

Professor Harris jiggles his finger. I was trying to sneak my
fingers lower. This point I am touching is sending burning waves of
feeling through me, but it is not what I NEED to really cum. He
knows it, I know it, and he's always watchful for my attempts to
touch it.

A wiggle of the doorhandles that lead out of the room far up
on the right sets us both to glancing back that way. I am on the
poduim. My blond hair is splayed back on the large space and my
legs hang off the sides. The muscle tone of my body is lost a
little bit in my strong curves. I'm not skinny like some of the
other exchange students from other parts of Europe, but the
Professor doesn't like that anyway. That I am a little bigger is
something that turns him on. Something that is proven by how
violent he can become in bed when things finally progress that far
– which they rarely do as he likes to do this during the day;
actually, correction, he likes to do it BETWEEN lessons. The next
one is due to start in 10 minutes. Whoever is up there is probably
wondering why the door is locked. Why someone would need to do that
at this time of day.

I moan in excitement. My heart beats a little faster. I can
see him smiling.

"Looks like there is no more time, student."

He stands. It's huge. My eyes nearly fall out of my head.
Always he has a slight hang. However, the one trying to open the
door has wiggled the door handle and knocked twice. They are
OBSESSED with getting in. We could be caught. Caught any second.
Someone will come and see me – young, 25 year old, of French
descent Student – being banged by the massively hung Professor that
is supposed to be teaching me morals (yes, Professor Harris is the
school's Head of Morality Studies – aren't we naughty?)

The man turns me. I stare back at his huge pulsing penis. It
is bigger than I thought it would be fully erect. The head is so
large that it might break me in two. Down below I am leaking juices
all over his paperwork. That hand of his comes up and he spanks me
firmly. Once, twice, three times, the sound of my butt taking the
powerful slap of the back of his hand can be heard. The door
wiggles again. Someone knocks. It is getting louder. They want in.
They are worried now. Why is the door locked? That question must be
so firmly in their mind, confusing them, making them want to push
harder, to force the door – TO CATCH US DICK IN PUSSY.

His piece slides into me. I groan in satisfaction. He grabs
what is held tightly in my ass and yanks it up.

"AHHHHH!" I cry loudly.

The sound from the door stops. Professor Harris pushes in to
the depths. I can feel the crinkled pink insides of my inner body
opening and accepting his length. He pulls out and spanks me with
his left while his right yanks on the thing in my butt again. I cry
out over and over and cum in a warm rush of sensation over the
poduim. My juices push out around his manhood. They litter his
paperwork with little droplets as he grabs my hair and yanks it
back to ride me more powerfully.

"Pro----fess---or..." I groan.

The clock is in front of us on the wall. Only 2 minutes. If
he doesn't cum soon then we will be caught.

"Not yet," he growls back, his face tense in his pleasure.
"You are not done yet."

His hands come to the tail hanging from my rear hole. It's a
line of thick beads that are about the size of my thumb. I can
almost count the number of them by the feel of the knobs inside.
There are 5 this time. Five moments of pleasure. Five
orgasms.

Grabbing them firmly, he yanks out the first. I scream. My
body tenses. Juices pour out. Another. Another. Another. The last
waits. He is being hard on me. I came four times. My drool leaks
down from my lips to the floor. I can just see the clock on the
wall. 1 minute to class. The person at the door is banging on it
now. They want in. They want to see my Professor of Morals teaching
me immorality with his dick.

Yanking the last one out, he forces his dick into my rear
with a desperate need. I feel the first ream of gorgeous white
juice pour in. My pussy responds by pushing out a massive wave of
my own to mess his papers up completely. He holds it in until the
clock strikes 10am.

"Get under the poduim. You have no time to dress."

I can't move. He lifts me off easily and pushes me
underneath. I lie on my side looking blankly at the wall as he
disappears for long enough to throw my bag and clothes in. I mumble
that I'm tried and he disappears.

Seconds later, I hear the sounds of grumbling voices, annoyed
students questioning what was going on, that they heard a cry. The
Professor sends them to their seats with no explaination. The other
students – nearly 100 of them waiting outside to get in – would be
surprised if he gave one.

The man's trousers and shoes appear in front of me. He
reaches down. I gasp when I see what he is doing.

"Professor..." I whisper as he begins to speak.

His dirty dick is right in front of me. I smell the very
distinct scent of my ass on the length of tanned skin. He reaches
down and holds it out to me. The thought of sucking that clean
while nearly 100 of my fellow students listen on to his drawling
voice turns me on. I reach to my butt as I hold out the big piece
of flesh and suck on it as my fingers dig deep and draw forth his
juices to play around my pussy and rear. I finger myself vigorously
as I push more and more of that stank dick down my throat. It
tastes so good. I choke on it and he reaches down to force my head
to his pubic hair. I suffer like this for a full minute before he
lets me up. My pussy lets loose another flow just as he releases
me.

"Ahhh..." I moan. My butt is leaking. My pussy is quivering.
I'm spent.

"Professor..." I mutter once before passing out.

The student has been well used.

Sophie's Book Note For The Older Woman I Couldn't
Forget

The MILF Series has been good to me of late. This book just
flew off my fingers to the pages you read and more than a few
others have come out much the same. It makes me wonder: Is my muse
a MILF?

Writing has its up and its downs. Sometimes inspiration is
everywhere; other days you couldn't find it if you knew where to.
It's an up and down thing.

So, MILFs, many many MILFs. Look forward to much more in the
near future. This is only the beginning. There is more to
come.

Sophie Sin

Late August 2015

Painting Mrs Henderson White

Cheating Wives Series

It was simple: Me, Jack and Mrs. Henderson. We'd pull the
usual moves and get her to do all the dirty stuff we had planned
up. Unfortunately, we didn't know as much as we thought. Young men
often believe they know all there is to know about the world. How
wrong we were.

Introduction To
Painting Mrs. Henderson White

This book is
filthy.
Rarely do I get to lead in on one
of our books like that, but this is the real deal: Dirty from start
to finish. Readers with daring will find that it is quite the
satisfying read and could fit quite well in the
More MILF Series
with it's older
female character. This book will, honestly, turn your tonsils
inside out and you'll love every moment of it!

Also, because we love to
give, this book includes
Big
Mass
. It's almost the reverse of the first
story in that the male character is older, bigger and wiser than
the younger female character. He's also very hung.

Thank you for reading Sophie Sin's work.

Much appreciation,

Kenneth Guthrie

Editor & Publisher

Lunatic Ink Publishing

Painting Mrs. Henderson
White

“You two are always so helpful since Keith
went to university. What would I ever do without you?”

Me and Jerry glance at each other. We
grin.

“It ain't nothing, Mrs. Henderson. We are
just looking out for our boy.”

“Awwww... Such wonderful young men.”

Truth
: Keith doesn't know we are over helping his mum with their
place. He'd be seriously angry if he knew what we were looking
for.

“It's alright. Want me to get back to
painting the roof? It'll be dark out soon.”

“If you wouldn't mind, Lawrence. I should be
cooking us dinner anyway.”

“I'll stay and help with that.” I pass Jack
an amused look and he turns a sly smile my way. “I'm a great
cook.”

“Really?” The older and much more gorgeous
than she should be at 43 years of age house wife asks. “Don't you
have college work to be doing?”

“Ah, that's easy, Mrs. H. I did my work. My
teacher says I'm great with a blow torch.”

I cover my mouth. Blow... Yeah, right on,
bro.

“Oh? Well, if your mother won't mind...”

“I'm 25. She isn't worried.”

“Okay. Then help me with the salad. I'll
hollow out the lettuce and you work on the dip.”

Oh, man, is Jack going to be working on some
dip alright. Wonder if she knows how much he's going to hollow her
out too.

I go outside and climb the ladder. It takes
me 5 minutes to splash on the remainder of the paint and come back
down to crouch at the window.

Inside Jack is at work.

The young man is tall, handsome with a
confident white guy flair and has big arms that get him looks
around the campus from the young girls. From what he's told me he's
notched himself a kill count of 50 hot ones, but I don't believe
him in that. Still, Jack knows how to get a girl wet and since
we've been playing this little game of ours with the local MILFs,
who have been quite willing of late I might add, he's been the man
to open the play.

I watch him at work. I can almost imagine
what he's saying as his lips work.

“I've never seen a woman with such a well
toned body,” he says.

She looks down and away. It came out of
nowhere.

“Where do you work out?”

His hands come to her shoulders. His eyes
are on hers from the side. There's a ravenous look of lust there.
She can't ignore that a MUCH younger man is taking an interest. I
run my hand down the middle of my thighs and feel my cock bulge
against the fabric. Just watching this guy wet them up makes me
fucking horny. What comes next gets exciting.

Jack has his hands on her as he talks. He
speaks as she holds a knife stuck deep in a lettuce – mid-hollowing
out – and works those hands.

They touch her wide ass.

They touch her tapered hips.

They touch her slim waist.

And down again.

Then her tits. Just at the right moment.
They are fucking huge and I'm hard pressed to not pull my cock out
in the garden to water the plants white watching.

“You got the finest tits I've ever seen,” he
whispers in her ear like melting butter on hot toast.

Mrs. Henderson is
reddened. Fuck, she's probably wettened. I know what she's
thinking.
He's too young. I'm 43 years
old. I'm 20 something years older than him. He isn't much more than
20. He looks young. I'm too old. He can't have an interest in
me.

Yet your tits are in his hands, lady. And I
bet you feel the lump.

Jack takes her hand and puts it down the
front of his now open jean's front.

This is where it's make or break.

I watched one time when he got rejected. She
went real quiet and slid down the couch and sat real quiet. Maybe
thinking. Maybe weirded out. I don't really care, but she didn't
want it.