The best fuck for the month of July

I have decided to offer up an ongoing account of what I term “The best fuck of the month.” Now, by “best fuck” I do not necessarily mean a single sexual experience, but rather intend to describe the experience of woman for, say, an afternoon or an overnight romp and so forth.

So, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that this blog is about my “Best fuck session in the month of July.”

Allow me to preface my description by saying that the first two weeks of July were very, very difficult for me. You see, for those two weeks I went without any pussy at all, no touch of titty and no tongue or lips on my cock. No titty fucking, ass grabbing, pussy pumping fun at all! Nothing!

In my defense, throughout my entire life, I have rarely paid for sex in the sense of actually procuring a prostitute, but on more than one occasion, late at night, or early Saturday mornings during this dry time, I thought long and hard—oh yes, hard—on pursuing that option. In May, I cut back on a long term fuck buddy relationship. Dear reader, if you’ve followed my exploits in this blog you know her as Cassie. I know her as Crazy Cassie!

She’s the one with the “spawn of the devil” son. A single mom, Cassie is constantly worried about money, about financial security, although she makes almost as much money as I do. And while we make really, really good sex together, and I think she genuinely likes me—her periodic bouts of pouting and the clamping shut of her legs because I was—am—unwilling to make a commitment to her, i.e. let her move in with me or me move in with her, drives me nuts!

In June I ended the brief, torrid affair with Tess, the wife of the son of one of my best friends. She was—is—an adorable little fuck, avid, eager, with a deeply seated daddy complex. But the thought of her father-in-law, my friend, finding out was just too much—plus her husband is a nice guy.

The woman I took on a cruise, Mandy, the trip of which I am about to post a fictionalized account—well, we had a great run, a great week of unfettered, raucous, randy rutting—but she is way too high maintenance for my taste.

My married bed buddy Helen and I still get it on two or three times a month—way too little access on my part to her Hindenburg hooters and rich, broad bottom.

My latest playmate is Stella. Please see the blog about her. But her business and her daughters limit my access to her. Stella enjoys marathon fucking—we get together on weekends and maybe once or twice during the week.

However, as it happened, during those first two weeks of July, Helen and her husband John went on a vacation. Stella also went on a vacation with her daughters and then for a weeklong visit to her mother in Michigan.

I was indeed tempted to text Tess and even to hook up with Mandy. But then, a serendipitous event occurred.

That second Saturday of this barren period, on a late Saturday morning I rolled into a party bar, a big patio affair with two outdoor bars, beers in huge metal tubs, a bevy of young, cute waitresses wearing painted on jean shorts and skin tight t-shirts.

I was horny and hard, on the prowl and open to any opportunity that might present itself. I had only been there a few minutes, halfway through my first beer when I saw a woman who frequents another bar, The Place 2B, close to my townhome. I had never seen her at this particular establishment and was, frankly, very surprised.

Allow me to explain. This particular party place caters to middle-aged men who come in to leer at and fantasize about the little cuties walking around shaking their asses and tits. It’s the kind of place from which wives prefer their husbands to stay clear.

So, when I saw Mary, a fortyish woman—single, divorced, buxom, in pretty good shape, so I was indeed perplexed. She would ordinarily qualify as a MILF but for one thing: at the other bar, we call her Crazy Mary. She has, in the past, attempted with modest success to fuck many of the regulars at the Place 2B. Yes, Mary has made a couple of runs at me—but I declined each offer.

Now, don’t misunderstand me, Mary is a damned fine looking woman, big titties and c***dbearing hips. Pretty face. But the drama! Over the years, she has been banned at least two times that I know of from the 2B.

On that particular day, Mary was attired in a pair of white shorts, tight, showing a lot of thigh. She wore a blouse designed to put on display her ample bosom. Also, it was quite low cut. I guessed immediately that Mary was on the hunt for some young dick. In fact, there were two young studs sniffing around her at that very moment.

Now, let me jump to the issue at hand. About an hour later, Mary was sitting beside me, drinking the second beer that I had bought her, sharing fried shrimp and fries with me. She was already a little tipsy. However, I sensed competition for her would get intense—a guy bought Mary a beer even though she was sitting right next to me, talking with me. I was, to say the least, a bit perturbed by the intrusion.

At one point, Mary asked the bartender for a gin and tonic. Now, remember I am so fucking horny, I leaned over and said to Mary, “I have a fresh bottle of Broker’s Gin in my freezer.”

It took her a moment, and I was afraid I might have overstepped. But I wanted to fuck. So, I went for it.

There was a moment of hesitation and then she playfully bumped against me and said, “Only if I can drink it while sitting in your hot tub.”

I had quickly made a mental list all the things at my place Mary could destroy or damage in a moment of pique or anger. Plus, if I didn’t enjoy the “Mary” experience I would have to concoct a plan to extricate myself from the entanglement.

Admittedly, if we had been in the Place 2B or one of the other two or three bars we both frequent, I would not have made this move. However, I decided that I needed pussy so badly, here Mary was, ready and available and that it would be fun walking away with her and leaving the young bucks wondering what I had that they didn’t.

Seize the day.

Even though Mary has a decent job as an executive assistant to an oil company executive, she seems to have a hell of a lot of time on her hands. She drives a brand new Prius, dresses to kill and takes a couple of nice vacations each year. Mary’s ex is still paying the mortgage as part of their settlement of ten years ago or so. Our theory at the bar is that he pays on a regular basis just to keep her out of his life.

She followed me to my townhome. Now, I’ve described my home before so will not dwell on the details—except to say that I’ve turned it into nice party place.

Like me, Mary likes to booze it up. She immediately went to my bar and poured drinks and we went out onto my back deck. My townhome backs onto a rarely used municipal park with townhomes across the way. The point is, my place is the anchor unit so I only have one neighbor and my deck is angled away from him. And, it is partially secluded. Yes, I’ve fucked women out here. And, I was determined to do so with Mary.

I turned on the hot tub, refreshed our drinks and went to stand beside Mary at the railing.

I said, “It will take some time for the water to be ready, let’s go inside for a while. I took her by the hand and led Mary to my upstairs bedroom. After some foreplay, I began to undress her. Well, I discovered a very nicely apportioned body. Big, dense titties, as well as wide hips and a round bottom; Mary has a few extra pounds that made for a lot of jiggling.

She stands about 5’4” when barefoot. She has great tan lines, obviously sunbathing in a modest two piece. Mary also has a neatly trimmed pussy patch and is fully shaved between her legs. A dirty blonde with blue eyes and a pretty face Mary is attractive until you get to know her—Mary can be, and often is, a Class A bitch. .

However, she proved to be a great fuck, a splendid fuck.

Further, Mary seemed enjoy my body. At fifty, I am in pretty good shape—an avid cyclist I take some male pride in usually being the trimmest man, the best shaped, at my various friends’ pool parties. Vanity, yes, I guess.

My cock isn’t huge, but throughout my life, the women I’ve been with have usually commented very favorably on my man tool. Not unusual I suppose for a woman to stroke a man’s ego, but I’ve also heard they talk about me among themselves, I guess exchanging notes. And, I get good reviews. Bragging? Hell yeah!

Anyway, Mary and I fucked and fucked and fucked some more. I did her twice in the bed the first two times. She rode me to her own climax. We cleaned up and I licked her to a climax. I remember her moaning, “Oh damn, Dean, you’ve done this before, oh shit.”

That second time, I got in some fine titty fucking. I had straddled her at the waist, and rocked back and forth in between those tits. Mary told me, as I was working my dick in the sweet valley that she had been concerned whether or not I would like her tits. You see, at the Place 2B, during the afternoons when only hard core, day drinking regulars sit at the bar in the round, the bartenders will flash their tits—when the owner is not on site. Mary explained that she had seen how much I relished looking those young, pert titties.

My climax, my spewing spunk, was all the proof she needed that I did indeed appreciate her titties.

Our third fuck was in the hot tub. For the record, I love fucking outdoors. I feel so free and the idea of being able to get after my woman anytime the urge hits me is so arousing. Well, I took her from behind and banged out a good shot of cum. Ramming her hard, her ass cheeks quivered and quaked and her titties flopped and galloped and Mary can yelp and squeal, let me tell you.

During that afternoon, we went back into the bedroom where she gave me a fully body rub down, front and back, with her tits. I licked her good, licked and kissed that pussy into readiness and I humped away at her.

We took a break at that point. And, I believe Mary thought I was done for the day. Stella had called me, to let me know she was back in town from her vacation with her daughters and was wondering what I was doing that night, because, in her words, “I have an itch I need you to scratch.”

Mary returned a couple calls as well, obviously men. Mary explained that she had a date scheduled for that evening, but she offered to cancel. I pulled her close. We were in the kitchen, naked, getting ice for our drinks.

As I groped over her ass, and fondled her titties, I told her I had a date as well. Now, it was in that very instant, as the vibrations of air moving from my mouth to her ears, that I regretted their emission. Mary’s face flushed red, immediately, and I had the fleeting image of a chef’s knife plunging into my stomach.

Mary jerked away from me and said, and I quote, “So, which bitch from the bar are you going to fuck tonight!” My first instinct was to say, “You.” But fortunately, caution prevailed.

We actually argued about this, I couldn’t believe it. I had to remind Mary that she had a date for that night also. I reminded her that we had just hooked up.

At some point, I reached for her and we did that wrestle thing for a minute. I knelt down and pressed my face against her pussy. And, for the rest of the afternoon, we resumed and pursued our raucous, randy rutting.

At one point, after we had once more returned to the bedroom and my totally wrecked bed, as we cuddled, sweaty and wreaking of our exertions, Mary had offered to cancel her date if I would cancel mine.

It was then that I explained a little about Stella. I explained, frankly, that I had no idea where Mary and I were going, so we had better continue with our current relationships and figure this out over time.

When she told me who she had a date with that night—well, I admit somewhat condescendingly, that all jealousy I might have felt went away.

Toward late afternoon, as Mary was getting dressed, we both commended each other for our respective sexual virtuosity.

We admitted we made good sex together.

As my townhome was something of a mess, glasses everywhere, rumpled sheets with too many wet spots, I called Stella to explain—told a little fib--my daughter and her boyfriend had a fight and she was going to crash at my place.

Stella and I had a great evening, we had a great dinner, went to a little jazz club we favor and then repaired to her place for a night of fine fucking. Stella was indeed horny—not having any dick for a while.

The next morning, as I was pouring my first cup of coffee, Stella in a silky robe at the stove scrambling eggs I checked my messages to find there was one from Mary.

“Wondering if you’re free today? If so, since we messed up your bed yesterday, we can mess up mine today.”

I texted back the question, “10:00?”

I told Stella that my daughter had left a message, wanted to have lunch with me—yes, I know, I’m a rake and a cad. But, Stella and I got in two more fucks and I headed to my place to clean up.

I ate a quick breakfast, shaved and showered. It took me a little longer to find Mary’s house than I expected. As I was driving around looking for her place, Mary had texted me, “WTF!”

Within a couple of minutes, I pulled into her driveway. I was twenty minutes late. I might as well had been a day late, judging by her reaction. It took a good fifteen minutes, and strong gin and tonic, to get her calmed down. I was beginning to regret leaving access to Stella’s body for this chaos, this drama.

Then, as if turning a switch, Mary came across the den, knelt down, unbuckled my belt and pulled down my jeans and proceeded suck on my cock.

I’m not sure what I expected to find at her house. Lots of cats, maybe? S & M paraphernalia? Trash covering the couch?

But it turned out to be a nice house, well appointed, obviously tended to by a woman. She had a nice deck out back and large k**dy pool—she explained, laughing, that she liked lying in it, sitting in it, in the early evenings, sipping a drink and relaxing.

She had a big fluffy bed with a canopy. After she got me hard, down there on her knees, we went right to that bed. And we fucked like crazy.

As I’ve often said, while not all butt men are tit men, I am convinced that all tit men are also butt men. Mary has a fine looking ass. Completely unblemished, and with those tan lines, that gorgeous rump is heart shaped when she is on her knees and elbows, it looked so good when I was pumping her.

And, Mary is very verbal. She was constantly calling out, or whispering. One of her most common endearments was to tell me, “Damn you know how fuck!”

The last fuck of the day was outside, on her deck. We had taken turns with oral treatment. I knelt down while she was sitting in a lawn chair—I worked on Mary’s clit while she moaned. Then, we traded places and she worked on my dick while I moaned. I got off inside her pussy while she was riding me in reverse cowgirl.

We showered together, but it was pretty clear we were done for a while.

I left a short time later and returned to my townhome. After another shower I felt a bit restless and got on my bike. I made my way to the Place 2B and noticed Mary’s car parked in the parking lot.

I went inside to find Murray, a regular, holding court on one side of the bar, complaining about the Astros. He was the guy Mary had dated last night. And, there was Mary, a few stools down, leaning into a guy nicknamed Starkey. I found my usual perch and ordered a beer. At this point, I have to say in all honesty that I had great time with Mary, but felt no sense of loss or offense to see her flirting with another guy.

I had seen enough of her mercurial personality over the past few years, and had been witness to it close up twice or so within the last twenty-four hours. A great fuck, but really too temperamental for my taste.

I had been there an hour or so when Penny put a double Makers Mark bourbon neat in front of me, “That’s from Crazy Mary, Dean. I keep telling you, don’t get into that, she’ll gig you hard at the slightest provocation.” Penny is from Louisiana and known for her colorful language.

I merely smiled and nodded my thanks to Mary. She winked—yes, winked.

Yes, Mary had been a great time, but I was glad that Stella, and for that matter Helen, were now back in town. As an old friend of mine once said of women, “You can only step into crazy so many times before you get drowned in it.”

I finished my drink and left. All in all, it had been a fine weekend.