Blame It On Monica free porn video

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Well, I couldn’t blame it on anyone else!

I mean, there I was, off on a course for a few days, staying in a sleepy little archetypal English village. Next door was a pub, next to that was the church, dating from the 1100s, next to that another pub. One called the Swan, the other the George and Dragon. The Bed & Breakfast overlooked the village green - more typically English would be quite impossible to imagine. Except that the housekeeper in my old English Guest-house was actually Hungarian. About 36 - 26 - 36 Hungarian to be more precise, with an accent that was so strong it dripped stereotype continental sexy.

We had spoken several times on the phone, so her, ‘so we meet at last,’ wasn’t as contrived as it sounded when she greeted me at the door. I asked about her accent - ‘Hungarian,’ was the reply - so of course I had opened my big mouth and told her that my forebears had also been from that part of the world. From that point, we had gotten along famously.

She signed me in then led the way to my room. I followed her up the stairs - closely - and had to resist the temptation to caress the rather lovely backside in front of me. As she walked along the landing, in front of me, she had stopped suddenly and without warning and I had bumped into her as she showed me the bathroom - I got a grin rather than a complaint - then on down
the short corridor into my room.

She sat on the four-poster bed briefly, then perhaps realizing what she had done, blushed a little before getting up and pointing out the ‘features’. I followed her downstairs again where she waited at the door while I got my couple of bags in from the car. She insisted on carrying one of them back upstairs for me - determined it seemed to make a fuss of me, as she told me I was the only guest and therefore it would appear the only other person in the house that night.

She seemed almost reluctant to leave me, though really at the time I was more than a little tired and didn’t pick up on it. It was only later when I thought about things that I realized. I mean, white-haired men of over seventy do not attract twenty-five-year-old women - except it seemed I did. 

About an hour later she had brought me an unexpected ‘bedtime drink’ and again, even though I was working on my laptop, she had lingered to chat. Again, that wonderfully sexy accent. It raised, amongst other things, the hair on the back of my neck.

Not a great deal later as I’d had a long day I turned in, perhaps a little earlier than normal. Maybe she heard me turning off the light, maybe not. Half asleep, I was vaguely aware of the door opening and then closing. I felt the bed move as someone got in beside me. 

Monica said, ‘Sven - I’m lonely - hold me.’   Always a gentleman I decided I had better do so…

Now, I sleep naked, and so it seemed did Monica. I discovered that even at sixty the application of one hundred and twenty pounds weight of naked Hungarian female to my one hundred and ninety-pound weight of naked male still has a very rapid effect on certain parts of my anatomy. I became instantly, achingly, as hard as nails. Monica found it with a hand about one second later.

“Oooh! Is that for me?”

Well, as there was just the two of us in the house I sure as hell hoped so because I would hate to have wasted it. She threw the bedclothes back - it was summer and not at all cold - looked down at him standing quite nicely, even though I say it myself, illuminated by the moonlight shining in through the window.

Hungarian, she was. Inhibited or shy, she certainly wasn’t as she turned around, wrapped both hands around me, and then followed with her lips. It needed a lot of willpower not to spoil the whole effect right at that point, but contain me I managed, but only just, as illuminated in the moonlight was the most perfect heart-shaped rear - not too far away from my head, fingers and mouth.

As she attacked me, I ran my fingers gently around the top of her legs, then round a swollen mound. God, if anything she was more turned on than I was. The moan that she made while still trying to deep-throat me made me shudder. I eased my thumb between her juicy, slippery lips whilst pulling her back towards my head with my other hand. She moved her knee over the top of me so she now knelt with my head near that wonderfully open and now quite drippy and aromatic vulva.

Pulling her down to me, I eased my tongue along her lips and was rewarded with a wonderful shudder. My doing it again coincided with her sword-swallowing me - all of me - in itself one hell of a feat - I’m not small. Even though my mouth was somewhat full I moaned to her that I was coming… just as she did as well.

I think - no, I know - it was just as well we were on our own in the house because our combined yells of ecstasy might well have
caused offence to other guests.

Monica was a screamer!

Boy, did she enjoy that orgasm! Mind you that’s not to say I didn’t. She also was one of those delectable creatures that produce copious amounts of fluid when they come and she tasted beautiful.

As things slowly returned to a lessor plane she turned around and smothered me in kisses, “Oh Sven, that was s-o-o good, I want
the next one inside me….”

“Monica,” I said. “Hang on just a moment. I’m seventy, not a teenager. I sometimes take days to recover!”

“No! I don’t care - I will work on him now.” And she slid down me and started to lick and clean and kiss me, ‘back to life,’ as she put it. Magician or witch? I don’t care because she did ‘magic’ me back to life and it seemed a very short space of time elapsed before Monica was sliding herself down on me and I was wearing her like a wonderfully tight, velvet glove.

That most exquisite of feelings, but the feeling of Monica slipping down me will last for longer than most. I think she was coming on me all the time now, making little throaty noises with her eyes clenched shut and also pulsing around me at the same time. I moved slowly, holding her hips and helping her slide gently up and down.

She leaned forward, hands on my shoulders, then lower onto the bed to make it easier for me to suckle on the hard nipples crowning her taut, straining, petite, beautifully formed breasts. She shuddered around me in another massive orgasm and I rolled her over onto her back, picking her legs up and putting them on my shoulders as I deeply penetrated her and then rode her home to my own second, intense orgasm in a ridiculously short space of time.

I fell to one side, just as well, and then Monica turned over and lay on me - putting me back inside her. She was exhausted and seemingly satisfied, with a happy smile on her face as she kissed me, before snoring gently on my shoulder. Still half-hard and inside her, as I also fell asleep I could still feel little aftershocks of her coming.

I think I’m in love again!

My last thought as I drifted off was, ‘If I’m late into work in the morning - I’ll just have to blame it on Monica…’

 

© Sven the Elder - July 21

 

 

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by scribbleskillz Two hours ago, it was a good day. I was with my parents out for a weekend of scuba diving and sun tanning off the coast of Catalina. A much needed weekend of relaxation brought to us through spontaneous means (my pops had cracked a screw and instead of a sports car for his mid-life crisis, he bought a rather big yacht). And so we'd been enjoying the sun after a nice afternoon dive. Armed with margaritas and not a care in the world. That is what I call blissful. Thirty minutes...

2 years ago
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Blame it on Rio

Hello ISS readers. I am a journalist and have had several sexual encounters over the past few years. Let me describe one such affair I had with the supervisor of the media help desk in rio centro, the conference venue in rio de janeiro, brazil. Every word i am writing is the recollection of a true happening. Some years ago, i was on assignment to report on an international conference in rio, brazil. At the end of the first day, i wanted to have a document faxed to my editor in new york. So i...

2 years ago
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Blame it on James Brown Part 1 of 2

Note to reader: This story has a slow build, so if you're looking for a quickie you may want to save it for later. Thanks. September 1975, Denver Daniel had a big decision to make. And he had to make it soon.He was sitting in a lecture hall, lost in a daydream while waiting for the professor to arrive so class could begin. Daniel was beginning his sophomore year as an engineering major, and the fall semester was only three days old. His dilemma, and the big decision that was weighing on his...

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3 years ago
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Blame It On Hermione

Very important author’s notes: The spark for this lewd tale came from reading Harry Potter. Regardless of whether you like or dislike the movies or books, imagine how exciting it would be to utilize the ability to go back into someone’s memory and observe what happened to them at a certain point in time. These memories are stored in a stone receptacle . . . called a pensieve. A witch or wizard can extract their own memories or another person’s . . . and stores them in the pensieve, and reviews...

2 years ago
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Blame it on Bacchus

Vesta, goddess of the hearth, was taking her leisure in her garden when she was startled from her reverie. "Auntie Vesta!" cried the cheerful voice of her uninvited visitor. "So good to find you here!" The portly god who greeted her was Bacchus, god of wine. Vesta sighed and inwardly cringed. In truth, she would have preferred a visit from any other god, even Vulcan, who at least remained civil when he kept his temper in check. Vesta supposed Bacchus may have been tolerable when sober but...

3 years ago
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Blame It on the Purge

Marcy and I were sitting on my sofa, watching the Purge, as it happened, just days away from Halloween. We ate plenty of popcorn and drank a few beers together, just kicking around a bit, brother and sister (okay, stepbrother and stepsister, but we had grown up together, so we tended to leave the “step” part out of things). I jokingly called her “Marcia Brady” and “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia,” while she teased me by twisting my name, changing Julian to “Julia” or “Jules” (her excuse being that...

2 years ago
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Blame Our Sister

Copyright © 2004 by Jefferson "Shh, you need to be quiet." Sonora Sheridan repeated as the two men followed her into the apartment and down the hallway, shutting the door behind them. Sonora led the two young men through the dark apartment and into her bedroom. She touched each of their arms as they moved past her into the dark bedroom. She then closed the bedroom door before finally turning on the light. Sonora then turned and looked at the two young men and smiled. "We need to...

2 years ago
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Blame It On Cain

Even though it wasn't my wedding, I still remember the day vividly. Each sigh of happiness from the grandparents as the bride floated down the aisle. Each tinkle of crystal as spoons crashed against champagne glasses, signaling for one more kiss from the happy couple. Each time my heart broke into a million pieces. I remember everything... "Aren't they a lovely couple?" "Pardon?" I turned to see who had spoken and smiled as my Aunt Rose tipped her glass of champagne back, draining the...

2 years ago
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Blame it on the BlackoutChapter 2 The Conversation Part 2

Shocks, yes! I had promised to tell Fiona a secret about Roger and me so that she would share her secret with me. I wondered if that had been a good idea. I wondered if I hadn't been better off without the burden of knowing Fiona's secret. But I wasn't going to go back on my word. "He's got this really unusual idea of foreplay," I started. "Like, none?" Fiona interrupted my flow before it had started. I didn't respond to her interjection, but my look told her that I didn't want...

4 years ago
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Blame it on the BlackoutChapter 3 The Aftermath

I woke up in the middle of the night. Fragments of a dream, or maybe several dreams, were still floating through my head. In the scene which I was able to recall most clearly, I was naked, bending over the table in Roger's kitchen. Fiona was standing behind me, not wearing any top or bra. She was slapping my bottom! Her beautiful breasts swayed gently, accompanying the movement of her hand. There were men watching - a different man in each version of the dream. I remembered seeing Roger. He...

2 years ago
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Blame it on the BlackoutChapter 4 The FollowUp

As soon as I got to the office the next morning I went to Fiona's cubicle. She hadn't arrived yet. I left a yellow post-it sticker right in the middle of her monitor, asking her to come and see me. Fiona arrived a little later, carrying a plastic coffee cup in one hand and my sticker in the other. "Morning, Liz. What's the problem?" "No problem, not really. I just wanted to talk to you about a personal matter." "Shoot." Fiona sat down on my visitors' chair, taking a sip of her...

4 years ago
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Blame it on the BlackoutChapter 5 An Evening with Fiona

"Good evening, Mister Parker. My name is Liz. I'm a friend of Fiona's. Is she in?" A man - Fiona's uncle, I assumed - had answered the door. He didn't seem very pleased about my unexpected arrival. "Fiona! There's somebody here to see you." He called into the house. I could hear Fiona shout, "Just a moment. I'll be down in a second," from somewhere inside. "Just a moment. She'll be down in a second," Mister Parker echoed. As he stood there, without having anything else to...

2 years ago
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Blame it on the BlackoutChapter 6 The Day After

So, here I am, back in my room, a nervous bundle of indecision, waiting for the phone to ring. I spent the whole day without wearing any knickers, but that made only a very small contribution to my confused state of mind. I didn't get a wink of sleep all night and now I'm dead tired. Too many things happened to let me find the restoring sleep I need to function properly. In a few minutes Roger will call me and he'll want to know in great detail what happened last night. Of course he'll...

4 years ago
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Matt to Matilda

Matt to Matilda By: Rachael Free Matt, a successful businessman and playboy, loses his job in the big city and finds himself falling for a very beautiful girl in a one- horse town in Pennsylvania. He gets close to her and they become very tight friends. There was one small chink in his armor though and Michelle takes her revenge on the guy that did her wrong. Enjoy how Matt eventually becomes...

4 years ago
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Reginalds PeopleChapter 9

The Finance Officer told him, “Our Head of Security went with me to the Chemistry Department and demanded to see the department ordering book from the Technician. Surprisingly, he quickly went and brought it to us, and we went over it. There were none of the expected large orders that we know were supplied, and I questioned him on it. He gave me a story that I am inclined to believe. He only orders what the lecturer responsible for supplies, a man named Proudfoot, tells him to. BUT he...

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