A Day in the Life

Transcript

Fantasy or a tale of recounting? You decide. This one's called A Day in the Life of.

Finally, my search for Young Athletic BBC has been a success, and I have finally hit upon not only it, but an ample supply. You see, today the perfect candidate for my hungry MILF-slash-Young BBC fetish answered one of my ads, displaying not only a tight athletic body, an attractive face, and a smooth, medium-brown skin complexion, but he also wrote the perfect words to me. Quote, 20-year-old soccer player at VCU.

Have a few BBC friends on the team too. You can have just me or all of us individually. Can definitely make sure you have all the dick that you need.

End quote. I actually gasped out loud in delight, and giggled in quite the girly manner as I responded eagerly with my photos. I quickly typed him a response wherein I let him know of my excitement to finally have it, Young Athletic Black Dick on tap.

We eagerly exchanged numbers, wherein the young man let me know clearly that he and his friends would not pay more than $100 a person to fuck. I sat stunned for a moment, honestly, until it occurred to me that my little dream boy-slash-supplier had decided upon looking at my photos that I had to be some sort of prostitute. The humor of the situation did not escape me, and I quickly and with much amusement wrote him back that I actually was not a lady of the night seeking his team for extra funds, but instead that I was actually just a regular taxpaying woman who just happened to be this slutty.

Unreal. My self-esteem continued to be boosted up when the young man was so impressed by my looks that he got scared I was a pick collector or a man trying to fuck around. His fear had a very grumpy monster, who still in her pajamas despite working from home, promised him a video within the half hour due to the level of nervousness my newfound mystic was displaying.

To this kitty's surprise, I was actually able to bathe, dress, and be this drop-dead gorgeous all within a 30-minute period. Quickly, I made my video, in which I was sure to make sure to show him a peace sign as I filmed myself to give him proof and security that I am actually that bitch. 5'5", 220, tattooed-covered paleness, goth bitch for life, big tits, shapely ass, and rocking the shit all day.

Success, though. Locked in once he saw it, and the fellow was hella pleased with my video content. Outcome? Playdate scheduled for the weekend.

First time that a roster of young athletes of my particular flavor. How thrilling to know that exactly what I had been searching for was only. ..

nearly a week away? What the fuck? My body was riled up now! My pussy was throbbing against the Batman shorts I was wearing.

Surely, I wouldn't have to wait a whole four days. I simply could not wait for this weekend when I was the solo, without work or motherly responsibilities to get this nut. And sure, today, I was bearing the weight of both.

Besides, the kid was at school. But my pussy, the excitement of what was to come, how could I not have went back to browsing the responses to my ad? I just got my pussy wetter the more and more I read over things, over people praising me even when they didn't even fit the bill that I requested.

While I no doubt preferred to be a kitten, I will never not love to be worshipped as the goddess they claim that I am. A role I share with my kitty altar. What should happen, though? Only the stars can say how amongst my messages happened to be a familiar body decked out in tattoos.

Medium black skin with a hot six-pack on display. Those tattoos and big, big cocks so very familiar as I have for the past year shared a view of that cock in our previous hookups on film with so many other Kingsters hookups and potentials. His very anatomy against me, inside of me, invading my pussy and my mouth.

What a welcome time to have found this familiar face that was long lost. My panties were wedged between my pussy lips at this point and getting wetter as my calculating mind, ever proving me to be a slut that I am, responded back with the very good news of our previous acquaintance along with the question, What time you go to lunch? This particular cock and the man attached to it not only happened to answer my ad, but his day job, a mere five minutes from myself on Broad Street, it was midday.

The baby would be napping with the baby gate up if we could just manage a timely arrival within 15 minutes of him leaving work, a good fuck time of about 30 minutes, and a good exit with the last 15 minutes of his hour so he could get back to work on time. Planned. Boom.

I went downstairs, propped open the security door with the top of the trash can nearby, and I came back upstairs where I pulled the baby's door partially closed and removed my panties for efficiency. Here he arrived in no time, if slightly a little more gruff looking than I remembered. My pussy definitely did not care as I took his wrist and took him to the only place in my apartment that I thought I could handle what I knew would be loud sex spout without actually disturbing the baby.

Got it, my walk-in closet. Panties already gone, and with limited time to get shit done, I didn't bother with the greetings or well-wishings of what would soon be our renewed fuck sessions and just turned around, got up on my tiptoes, and as I leaned over the dresser, ass perky and up in the air, I reached back and flipped my dress up to display to him my shapely ass. Fuck foreplay.

I'd have time for that this weekend as I was introduced to VCU sports. D, however, as I had come to know his name again, followed the mood and spent only a moment slipping his fingers inside to finger-bang my pussy, groaning over my readiness. His cock came next, and I was surprised at the size, my pussy just quivering as it stretched past the size of any I have had in months.

Immediate, long, hard strokes that proved that I was damn sure on the money picking this closet for my fuck cave, as my mouth just couldn't seem to close, and more, his mouth didn't seem to close, as we fucked in no less than six different positions, me throwing that ass back every opportunity. D had planned for a stage of time upon arrival of 30 minutes. After we finished fucking and I sent him away, I couldn't help but start laughing, though, as I pulled out my phone.

Pulling up our messages, I looked at the time in the text wherein he texted he was outside the front door, and then I looked at the clock, and I couldn't help but laugh yet again. Thirteen minutes he made of it, his promised 30, and he was already gone. My self-esteem firmly in check, baby still safely asleep, my pussy used and hard at that.

I cleaned myself up and went back to work absolutely pleased with myself, with D, and with the eager VCU student who sporadically texted me throughout the day discussing limits and what I should let them do to me and whatnot. Conclusion, my life actually is a fucking porn. Unfortunately for D, his life is more like takeout.