SUPER-MILF
Exhausted, Kilian collapsed onto his reserved seat in the Intercity-train. Thanks to his well-off parents, he was the proud owner of an annual first class ticket. Kilian knew that this luxury was money wasted. He even didn’t tell his fellow students that he sat among lawyers, business economists, doctors, industrialists and business people when he took the train home for the weekend. Me-Too-colleagues and climate activists found it uncool when a 22-year-old sports student behaved like people from the establishment.
But today Kilian was happy about the amenities of the highest seat category. He had had an intensive week of training. He had to perform even better in two disciplines of the decathlon: discus and shot put. So, he spent a lot of time in the weight room. At the same time, he had to make sure that lifting weights did not affect his speed. This meant that his training plan included appropriate compensatory loads in the area of explosiveness. Now, on Friday evening, he was completely exhausted. The training plan now included two days of active regeneration. This sounded heavenly! A little jogging, a lot of sleeping, sauna and steam bath and extensive stretching. He was going to make the most of his Spotify and Audible accounts this weekend!
He was late and had been sitting on the waiting train for a while. Bored, Kilian swiped through WhatsApp messages and social media accounts. It wasn’t that the female sex wasn’t interested in him. The opposite was the case. Kilian found his fellow students quite boring. They were young ladies and not women, that was the problem. They were so clever and so cool, but they only lived off their parents’ money. He was also bored by her pseudo-intellectuality, which never went beyond platitudes. Unlike them, Kilian was at least aware that there were still some lessons out there for him to learn.
But it wasn’t just the messages from the student ladies that were annoying. His mother had also been bothering him in the last few days: when would he come home again? He shouldn’t forget the dirty laundry. The alarm system’s numerical code has changed (in fact, his father had made this change more than a year ago). Aunt Rita would also be happy about his visit.
A dark shadow fell over Kilian’s mind. His biceps began to twitch nervously. (Which often happened after training overload; this time the reason was more psychosomatic!) He slowly began to wonder whether the idea of paying his parents a surprise visit was really as good as he had thought. Kilian took a deep breath and closed all previously activated apps. Instead, he opened the browser and logged into his favourite porn site. The intensive training had significantly reduced his libido and Kilian found that after a week like that it was more than legitimate to pay attention to his sexual fitness.
Kilian typed “Super-Milf” into the search mask with lustful anticipation. The train’s Wi-Fi was mediocre, so it took a moment for his search to produce results. That’s why Kilian, lost in thought, directed his gaze out of the train window onto the platform.
SUPER MILF!!! What the f***?! There she went, the woman of his sexual fantasies! Not on the screen in the virtual world, but on the platform, in real life. No, this woman didn’t just walk. She strutted like she was on a catwalk. Impulsive, bursting with energy and femininity! What a BABE!
The sight of this woman overwhelmed Kilian’s powers of perception. Long legs, high heels, skin-tight pants made of mocha brown leather. THOSE HIPS! SHIT! The mother-of-pearl-coloured blouse: was that satin or velvet or silk? Kilian didn’t know anything about these things and he didn’t really care. Much more important were the full breasts that were covered in this sexy material. Every time the milf’s heels hit the asphalt of the platform, the lady’s tits bounced to the beat. That was TOO MUCH! The leather jacket that this SUPERWOMAN wore in the crook of her arm on this warm evening, the elegant watch on her wrist, the designer laptop bag and the striking sunglasses (Killian had already seen these YSL-Logo somewhere?!) made her classification as a LUXURY BITCH definite. And then there was the long, slightly wavy blonde hair….
Kilian’s heart rate monitor reported increased values. But the young athlete hardly noticed. Instead, he frantically swiped the touch screen of his phone to activate the camera. Maybe he managed to photograph this fuckable lady? If the pictures were good, he would have the perfect jerk off template for the next few weeks! No, months!
Kilian actually managed to take two photos of the lady walking past his window. Kilian noted with delight that the second photo in particular accurately depicted this divine woman. How much he would love to show his six-pack to a woman of this level...
Kilian sighed. The platform was now empty again and the woman could no longer be seen. A computer-generated, sterile voice announced the train’s departure. People looked for their seats, pushed suitcases in front of them, took off their clothes and settled into their seats. The train was moderately busy, so calm quickly returned.
Kilian was just about to activate his earplugs to forget the blonde lady, the upcoming weekend with his oldies and the hard training, when he was approached by a dark, pleasant-sounding female voice: “Is this seat still free?” Kilian looked up, irritated.
HOLY SHIT! The SUPER MILF! NO WAY!!!
The woman pushed the YSL shades slightly away from her nose with her carefully manicured fingers and looked at him questioningly. “Is this seat still free?” she repeated her question, a little impatiently.
“Yep!” Kilian blurted out after what felt like an eternity. And he immediately regretted it. “Yep!” was a TOTALLY immature and ABSOLUTELY embarrassing response!
“Yep?” Bridget asked, grinning. The young man’s reply amused her. A delicious little guy got lost in first class. A delicious guy with impressive arm muscles and broad shoulders, to be precise! Bridget immediately recognized that the young muscle man was still green behind the ears. Green behind the ears and embarrassed when he had to deal with attractive women. Bridget decided to have some fun with the guy.
“Yep? Hmm... Does that mean I can sit down?” Bridget gave the young man a charming smile, but adjusted her glasses again. This way the young athlete wouldn’t be able to see which of his muscles she was examining...
Meanwhile, the man’s cheeks had taken on a healthy, ruddy color. While he had previously lounged extremely casually on the sofa, he now quickly assumed a more upright, socially acceptable sitting position. “But please, take a seat. It’s free here!”
Bridget raised an eyebrow in surprise. The man had recovered from his shock quicker than she had thought! And he was able to express himself more selectively than she would have thought possible. What a pleasant surprise.
“Thank you very much!” Bridget put down her laptop bag and jacket and sat down opposite the young man. He smiled briefly at her, but then reached for his smartphone. In doing so, he signalled to Bridget that he was not interested in talking to her. Bridget grinned. It was obvious that the man actually found her very interesting. But he didn’t know how to start a conversation with her without constantly being embarrassed. Bridget almost felt sorry for him.
With a heavy heart, she decided not to confuse the poor youngster any further and also took her smartphone out of her pocket, but didn’t activate it. Instead, her gaze wandered out to the landscape rushing by. The reflections of the train compartment blended surreally with the trees, bushes, meadows, buildings and train they left behind. Bridget congratulated herself on her decision not to take part in this boring congress tomorrow, Saturday. On a spur of the moment, she set out and jumped on this train without a seat reservation. At least the Intercity had been half empty - untypical for a Friday - and so she was sitting here, in the company of this cute young man.
Bridget changed her focus: while she had previously focused her gaze on the passing landscape, she now focused her attention on the reflection of the train compartment. And what she saw was quite exciting: the shy athlete was pointing his smartphone at her. A barely noticeable pressing movement with the thumb. A second. A third. Then he put the smartphone aside.
Bridget pretended not to notice the man’s stalking activities. Instead, she reached for her purse and pulled out her lipstick. She usually touched up her makeup using her smartphone’s selfie camera. For the sake of the young peeping Tom, today she would use the reflection of the train window to accentuate the red of her lips. As soon as she had taken out her lipstick and turned her upper body towards the window, the person sitting next to her pulled out his smartphone again. Once, twice, three times. His photo collection grew larger by the second.
When Bridget was satisfied with her makeup, she undid the straps of her high-heeled sandals, slipped off her shoes, and massaged the soles of her feet. In reality, her legs didn’t hurt at all, but perhaps the athlete had a weakness for beautifully pedicured feet? His cell phone was active, that much was clear.
Bridget decided to get a cappuccino from the machine. Firstly, she wanted a coffee and secondly, this way she could give the languishing photographer a look at her round ass. Before she got up, she rummaged in her handbag for an extra long time, apparently looking for her credit card case. Then Bridget slowly stood up and strolled towards the hot drinks machine like a model on the catwalk. She was sure the boy’s smartphone camera was firing on all cylinders, taking countless HD photos of her bottom covered in shiny brown leather. Maybe even the movie mode was running?
A little later Bridget returned to her seat with the paper cup in her hand. The man was still playing with his smartphone. Behind him, on the partition to the second class compartment, the display of his device was reflected and Bridget saw - not without pride - her firm, round ass wobbling along the narrow train corridor.
She sat down in her seat, crossed her legs lasciviously and took a sip of her drink. Then she put down her cup and quickly reached for her admirer’s cell phone. “Stop! That’s mine!” he shouted in shock. He sounded like a four-year-old in a sandbox after a friend of the same age had stolen the Winnie the Pooh bucket. He tried to grab his device from Bridget. But Bridget was quicker and hid the device behind her back. But with the index finger of her other hand, she pushed the man back into his seat. Her long, sharp fingernail pressed against the man’s impressively hard chest muscles and Bridget couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling.
“No way!” she told the man in a firm voice. “You – don’t – move – from – the – spot!” she ordered the horrified guy. “Or do you want me to call the train crew and show them the photos on this device?”
The man’s complexion went from purple-red to cheese-white in a split second. “No, don’t do that!” he groaned. It was obvious that he was in agony.
In the meantime, Bridget was using the cell phone, which was still activated. “The pictures are absolutely excellent!” she declared with a smug grin after opening the gallery. “What do you think? Is it because of your photography skills or because of my hot ass?”
The man bit his lip. He squirmed back and forth in his seat. “The second is the case!” he then said, embarrassed.
Bridget wasn’t happy with the answer. “Let’s try again: Is it YOUR photography skills or MY hot ass?”
The man looked at her with wide eyes. “But I already said that!” he then explained. Bridget shook her head. “You have one more try! Then I’ll get the train attendant!”
“It’s because of your hot ass!” the man gasped quietly.
“You see? It wasn’t that difficult!”, Bridget replied, her tone now much friendlier.
Bridget opened WhatsApp. A chat had a new answer. Bridget clicked on the top line. She briefly scrolled through the news. Then she laughed and started reading:
“Hey bro. The MOST FUCKABLE SUPER-MILF EVER is sitting across from me on the train!” Six photos of Bridget impressively illustrated what was said.
“Hot lady. But a size too big for you! Face it!”, was the answer. Numerous emoticons underlined this message.
Bridget pressed the camera icon. “Your buddy is really cute!”, she whistled into the microphone, then sent her answer. Kilian’s mouth fell open in astonishment.
Seconds later the answer came: an emoticon with an open mouth...
Bridget typed her phone number into the man’s cell phone. Then she connected to her own device. Kilian was still amazed when he saw Bridge’s device vibrate and the display light up. “You can now tell your buddy that I gave you my number!”, she laughed at the student athlete who was sitting there paralyzed.
She looked at the display again. “My name is Bridget, you can save my contact information!” The blonde gave the visibly relieved man his cell phone back. “And what is your name?”
“Kilian!” he said. He seemed a bit more relaxed now. “I’m really sorry!” he started, but Bridget interrupted him.
“Relax yourself! I feel flattered, everything is fine!”
“Really?” Kilian took a deep breath. Then he laughed. “I thought I was dying!”, he then said.
A short time later, Kilian talked about himself, his studies and today’s trip, as well as the fact that he actually didn’t feel like playing role model son for a weekend at his parents’ house. The conversation was interrupted by an announcement:
“We are approaching our next stop. The exit is on the right. Pay attention to the gap between the carriage and the edge of the platform! Thank you for traveling with us!”
Without further ado, Bridget reached for the hand of her newest acquaintance. “Come on, let’s have a nice evening!” The surprise effect ensured that Kilian grabbed his things without resistance and let the blonde business lady lead him out of the train.
“What are we doing here?”, Kilian asked as the unlikely couple walked towards the exit on the platform.
“I know a nice hotel. I could check your training status if you feel like it!”, Bridget flirted. She enjoyed the looks of people passing by: there was this blonde businesswoman in her late 30s in designer clothes walking with this casually dressed, young athlete guy, holding hands and deep in stimulating conversation.
Kilian swallowed briefly. This sexual offer surprised him, as did many other things on that memorable evening. “We can do it!” was all Kilian could think of.
Bridget laughed. “There’s still room for improvement with your charm!” she explained to the young man. He only now looked at his left hand, which was holding the woman’s right hand, again visibly irritated. Kilian immediately became aware of the eroticism of the moment and his body responded logically with the onset of sexual excitement.
But Bridget knew how to gain Kilian’s trust. “What do you think people think when they see us?” Bridget asked conspiratorially – as if they were doing something forbidden.
“Business lady treats herself to sports students?” Kilian answered quickly. He laughed quietly. “The looks feel good somehow!”, he then said – a little surprised by the experience.
“Then I’m curious to see whether the people at reception notice anything,” Bridget explained.
Too many impressions and sensations were still flowing into Kilian. That’s why he didn’t notice that they had reached the entrance of a small boutique hotel. The entrance seemed very well maintained, as did the interior of the lobby. First-class designers had a hand here, Kilian suspected. “Your ID please,” Bridget explained with the tone of an official at the office, but smiled. Kilian obediently handed her his ID card. A cursory glance at the document revealed to Bridget that the muscular sex partner she had procured today was a whopping 17 years younger than her. Should she therefore have any scruples? Bridget brushed the thought aside. This man was young, but had long since grown up. Today she would spoil him in every way imaginable and he would benefit for the rest of his life from the experiences he would have between her thighs today. And so did all the other women who came after her... Smiling diabolically, Bridget approached the receptionist and placed the two ID cards and her credit card on the counter.
After Bridget had completed the check-in formalities, they took the elevator to the third floor of the house. As soon as the elevator door closed, Bridget snuggled up to the young man. She placed one hand on his hip, the other on his chest. “Kiss me, you brat!” Kilian asked her. To Bridget’s surprise, the man, who had previously seemed so shy, didn’t take long to ask. He energetically placed his hand on Bridget’s neck and pulled the woman to him. Then a rather spirited kiss followed. Now it was Bridget who was surprised. Young men were often in too much of a hurry, too nervous and hectic. But Kilian took his time and everything he did was successful. She really didn’t have to teach this young man anything more when it came to kissing. Bridget noticed that her sex hormones were also impressed by Kilian’s kisses. She felt warm and noticed that she was getting wet. It was time for them to get to the hotel room.
Bridget actually wanted to freshen up quickly. Then she wanted to see what the minibar in the room had to offer. Then she would have driven the hunky boy crazy with a little strip. But Kilian thwarted their plans.
The door had barely closed when Kilian pushed Bridget against the wall. Breasts and cheeks slapped against the white wall. Kilian’s hand was around her neck and back of the head to hold her in place. It felt raw and sexy and Bridget really got into the mood. She indicated an expectant gyration of her hips. The fact that the zipper of the tight leather leggings was on the back suited Kilian. He pulled the pants a little over Bridget’s ass, but not all the way. Instead, he pushed his hand under the woman’s blouse and unerringly grabbed Bridget’s breasts. She sighed. This was what she needed after a long work week and an annoying conference: good sex!
Bridget managed to withdraw from the man’s demanding touches enough that she was able to turn and now face him with her lovely front. She wanted to not only feel the man’s muscles and his strength, but also see them. “Take off your T-shirt! And then kiss me!” she articulated her wishes in a strained voice.
Kilian immediately took off his tight shirt and stood there with this incredibly well-sculpted six-pack. “Tax money well spent!” Bridget thought. After all, this dream of a male torso had been cultivated at a public university!
With lust and sexual curiosity, Bridget grabbed the athlete’s bottom. “Oh my God!”, she gasped as she took hold of the firm flesh of that tight ass.
“Satisfied?”, Kilian simply asked, then he kissed her again.
Bridget’s sensors now also reported that there was a huge erection pressing against her womb. Now the moment began that Bridget loved so much during passionate sex and to which she succumbed like an addict: it was the moment of divestment, of alienation, of the contraction of one’s own ego to sexual desires and their satisfaction. Everything else, worries, fears, expectations and hopes, disappeared from her self as well as all family or professional ambitions. Now all she wanted to do was fuck and be fucked. A heavenly and beguiling state that she couldn’t have enough of.
When she was pushed vehemently onto the bed. Kilian pushed her thong aside and then thrusted his shiny, bursting-swollen cock between her legs. Bridget had finally reached the goal of her desires. She looked dazedly into the face of the fucking man. He too was completely with himself, with his lust and his sexual greed. He satisfied his own lusts, which also happened to be hers. That’s how sex was best. Bridget closed her eyes and surrendered to what Kilian was doing to her. How good that she canceled the congress...
