Fountain of Youth
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The Fountain Of Youth free porn video
I had a semi-regular client named Jonathan. He was in his early fifties, and kept himself fit and smelling pretty good (those things matter, trust me). His wishes were pretty vanilla – i.e., he’d hire me for a couple of hours and we would have pretty basic sex, running through most of the common positions and things that a man and woman can do to and for each other. He always enjoyed himself enormously and I liked him a lot. He often remarked that I was very good at it. As he got to know me better, he would extend the time a bit to last after his orgasm just for pillow talk. He liked my abilities as a conversationalist, and I found that gratifying. “Refined,” I think was the word he used to describe me. And “genteel.”
So perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising when Maxine told me that Jonathan wanted to talk to me about some matter that was very important to him. I couldn’t imagine what it might be… but I was happy to meet him (off the clock) at my favorite coffee shop to talk about whatever was on his mind.
Turned out it was his son that was on his mind, a lad named Josh who still lived at home. Jonathan said that the young man was a complete addict to social media and all things internet, but that he had little to do with actual people in his real life. “The kid is twenty years old,” said Jonathan, his voice trembling with some emotion. (Anger? Disappointment? Frustration?) “He lives in a lair in the basement, he has no job, no friends, no life outside his computer. And, as near as I can tell, his life there is nothing but a silly fantasy.”
“I’m no expert,” I said, “but I don’t think that’s so uncommon.”
“But this kid,” said Jonathan, “is still a virgin. At twenty.” The words came out as a sort of groan. “I lost my cherry at sixteen,” he continued, “and I have friends who were younger than that when it happened to them. And Josh is twenty and never been kissed, much less fucked.”
“You know this for a fact, Jonathan?”
“I do. The last time he was alone with a girl was at a play date with my sister’s kids.”
“Aha. How old was he then?”
“Three,” he said. “Maybe four.”
“Oh!”
“Besides, he talks to his younger sister sometimes, and she confirms it. And she, by the way, lost her virginity at fifteen, as she’s proud to tell me.”
I wanted my next question to be delicate, but couldn’t come up with a nice way to put it, so I didn’t even try. “Are you quite sure he’s even interested in women?”
“For sure. He can’t be bothered to ever turn his computer off and clear his ‘history’ page. And he sleeps like a rock all morning long. Every time I’ve checked, it’s full of visits to porn sites, all of them hetero. It’s pretty tame stuff, no real…kinks that I’ve noticed.” Here Jonathan looked a little uncomfortable in a way that made me wonder if he himself was, in fact, as vanilla I’d thought. Maybe he’d been keeping something back.
“Sooooo…” I said.
“It kills me to think he’s missing out on his best years! And he hasn’t even tried it. Serryn, I need something to bring him out of that dungeon he’s created. College didn’t do it. Sports didn’t even come close.”
“So you’re thinking…sex might?”
“I’d say it’s worth a try.”
“You want to hire me to initiate your son?”
“Is it something you’d consider?”
“Sure,” I said, “it sounds fun. You’re sure he’s not underage, Jonathan?”
He reached into his wallet and took out a driver’s license. He looked at it for a moment and sighed. “Something else he’s not using,” he said, and handed it to me. The photo showed a pasty-faced, somewhat overweight young man. The date checked out: Josh was about to celebrate his twenty-first birthday. I pointed to the date. “Are we talking a birthday party here? A present from a doting, dear old dad?”
“Something like that,” he muttered. “But we’ll keep it to the three of us: you, me, him. His mother doesn’t need to know.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’d known Jonathan for two or three years, and this was the first time he’d ever mentioned a wife…whether ex or current he didn’t say, and I certainly didn’t ask. “I’m ten years older than him,” I said. “How do you want to play it?”
“I thought about trying to set up something that seemed spontaneous,” he said, “but the kid hardly ever leaves the basement, so the chance of you guys meeting in a bar or coffee shop seems impossible to pull off. I think I’m just going to come out and explain matters to him. We’ll set you up in a nice hotel downtown, I’ll put Josh in a cab, give him a key card to your room, and have you there when he opens the door. The details of how it goes after that, I’ll leave to you.”
“Prudent,” I said. “And I won’t tell him you know me. I’ll just say you called the agency and they sent me.” Then another thought occurred to me. “What else did you find in his history…besides heterosexual porn?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “A bunch of bullshit. Dungeons and Dragons stuff. Knights in armor, fair damsels in distress. He has this character he apparently goes on and plays with, an…an…What do you call it?”
“An avatar?”
“Yeah, an avatar, and it’s this dark-haired, skinny minstrel or something called Baldric. Doesn’t look a thing like him.”
“Is Josh a musician?”
“No, he can’t play the guitar for shit. I’ve tried to teach him some Pink Floyd, I’ve tried to teach him ‘Wonder Wall.’ He’s hopeless.
But Jonathan had just given me a way in.
I am aware that I have tried to present myself in these sketches as being some uber sophisticated, jaded, been-there-done-that woman of the world…But I might just as well come out and say it, I’m actually a total, hopeless geek, possessed of many geek-like traits which perhaps I need not get into. All you need to know about how deep my geekdom goes, is this: I am a complete lover of Renaissance Faires, and have been for as long as I can remember. You’ll understand the depths of my commitment when I tell you I have not one, not two, not three, but four separate outfits: Elizabethan Noblewoman, Leather Armor-clad Woman Warrior, Saucy Country Wench. The fourth outfit is actually for very hot days and it is a sort of fairy get-up: two long scarves with nothing underneath, held strategically (more or sometimes less) in place by a big, broad leather belt.
I obviously couldn’t cop to Josh that I knew about Baldric the Minstrel, but his love of Medieval gaming – and games in general – gave me a plan. I rejected Noblewoman and Woman Warrior as being potentially too intimidating, and Scarf Fairy as being maybe a little on the nose. So Saucy Country Wench it was to be.
I was already pretty excited at the prospect of a novel experience, but the idea of getting dolled up in one of my beloved outfits made it all the sweeter.
I was pleased to learn that Jonathan had booked a room in the downtown New Standard, one of my favorite hotels in Los Angeles. On the phone he told me that he had re-thought sending Josh in a taxi, but had resolved to drive him there and deliver him in person. Josh would be arriving, he said firmly, at eight pm.
I got there early. I had a long, luxurious bath, sipped a glass or two of champagne, and took my time getting into costume. Saucy Wench outfit included a very low cut blouse with an outside corset that plumped my small tits up nicely, making them look a lot more bountiful than they were. Then I festooned the room and bathroom with candles. The L.A. New Standard wasn’t exactly a Medieval Inn, but I had given it a pretty magical aura by eight o’clock…
At precisely which moment there was a timid knock. I tousled my hair, pulled the blouse down a little lower, and opened the door. A pale, pudgy young man with a wispy little mustache and an attack of acne stood there blinking at me, blinking at the candles. I’m not sure what he thought he was seeing. I was dying to call him Baldric and do my, “Prithee, fair gentleman, well met!” but I decided to dial it back. “Hello, Josh,” I said, “I’m Serryn, and I’m very happy to meet you.”
“He was quite nervous, and clearly knew what he was there for, though precisely what his father had told him I never learned. He asked me why I was dressed that way, and that gave me an excuse to tell all about my Ren Faire fantasy of being taken by the wealthy Squire’s handsome son. I could tell that he liked that a lot.
It was pretty obvious that he wasn’t going to do anything to move matters along, so I decided that I had better. “Have you ever played strip poker?” I asked him.
“I don’t know anything about poker,” he said.
“We could play a very simple version. We each turn over a card. The person with the low card has to take something off.”
He swallowed hard, but said, “Okay.”
We sat on the big king bed and I produced a pack of cards. He really didn’t know anything about them. I had to explain the hierarchy with the face cards. To my frustration and Josh’s discomfiture, the cards didn’t like him. I had him out of his shoes, both socks, and shirt before I ever drew a low card. My corset laced from the back, so, though I didn’t really need it, I asked for some help. I could tell that his hands were shaking as he unlaced me. Facing each other again I contrived to lean toward him, knowing that my loose peasant girl blouse would sag far enough that he should have a pretty full of view of my breasts. As I dealt him a card I sneaked a glance at him and, sure enough, his gaze focused down below. I lost the next round too. “Well,” I said, “here goes.” I took the top off leaving my breasts bare for his examination. I wondered at the moment what it would be like to have watched a lot of porn without ever having had actual sex. Breasts and asses and genitals would be familiar sights in all their glorious variety, but there were bound to be surprises: the texture of a female breast which is unlike anything on earth, the scent of an aroused woman’s pussy.
But maybe just seeing a real body close up in the flesh was a different thing. Josh’s hungry gaze on me made me think that was possibly so.
Josh had another run of bad luck and was finally down to his Y-front underpants. I lost a hand and, rather than remove my thigh-high stockings, I took off my skirt. True to a medieval peasant girl, I had no underwear on, so now young Josh got to stare at my bare pussy. His cock stood straight up, a tent pole in his undies.
I threw the cards over my shoulder, leaned in, and got hold of Josh’s underpants waist band and pulled them off. His cock sprang out at me like a snake. It was so taught I could practically see his pulse throbbing in it. His breathing was coming in short bursts, I could feel his excitement building. I knew what would happen if I let that thing anywhere near my pussy at this stage. I had to slow it down some. “Lie on your tummy,” I told him. “I want to give you a backrub.” I wanted to give him a chance to calm down a little and get used to another person touching him. I think it wouldn’t matter how much porn someone has watched or how many times he has jerked himself off, the actual touch of another human being is quite different, and I didn’t want him to explode right away.
I straddled his ass and gave him a light touch massage, tickling all the way down. I opened his legs and moved further down so I could tickle his ass crack and balls. But he began to squirm, and I was afraid that he would make himself cum on the sheet, so I rolled him over. I noticed with interest that his penis was actually quite a lot bigger than his father’s. I wondered how Jonathan would feel if he knew that. It’s hard to tell what size or shape a man is going to be by looking at his body or face, but there is something to be said for the old saw about judging a man’s cock size by his hands and feet. It was interesting to look at Josh’s cock and think that it had never been inside a woman’s vagina. But that was about to change.
I knew if I straddled his hips and my pussy touched his cock he would probably cum, so I just tickled him a bit around the groin and across his chest. I had an inspiration. “Okay, my turn,” I said. “Give me some tickles like that. Go anywhere you want, explore.”
I lay on my back and closed my eyes. He touched me shyly and tentatively at first. I could feel his hand trembling as he ran his finger down my chest, between my breasts, but going no farther than my belly button. He ran it upward again, still avoiding my nipples. He tickled my cheeks and I turned my head to take his finger in my mouth and suck it. He seemed to like that. I took his hand and I guided it to my left nipple. If he couldn’t be bold, I would help him.
He got the idea. I left his hand alone and it went all over the place. He didn’t waste any time getting down to my pussy and, a little to my surprise, stuck a finger in. I hadn’t lubed up yet or gotten wet naturally, so it wasn’t all that pleasant, but I put it down to his inexperience and I let him poke around.
After awhile, I decided it was time. His cock was still very rigid. I regretted that I didn’t have any magnum sized condoms for him, but a regular “large” would have to do. A reason a lot of men don’t like condoms is that they can be too tight and it chokes off the blood and prevents a good erection. Of course they can’t be too loose either.
“Have you ever worn one of these?” I asked him.
“No,” he said. “I’m sorry.” Young Josh said he was sorry a lot.
I rolled it over his cock as gently as I could, easing it on with my mouth. I didn’t want to blow him yet (I was saving that for round two) and I didn’t want him to cum until he was all the way inside me. As I was putting the condom on him, I subtly reached over and got some of my lube on my fingers and touched myself. It acted as a primer to my pussy and soon I was wet. I gave Josh a long, sensuous, wet kiss, then I lay back and spread my legs open.
He was trembling violently as he lay down over me. I guided his cock to my vulva and into place. I hadn’t had anyone as big as him for some time, and I told him so. (Ladies in my world are not always 100% honest about that fact, but I was this time.) He was a very tight fit. I took hold of his bottom and firmly pressed him into me all the way.
Sure enough, I felt a shudder run through his whole body, all the way from its core, and I knew he had climaxed.
He was, as I’d known he would be, sheepish, but I got him settled, the semen-filled rubber off him, and talking about his medieval gaming (I even learned about his minstrel avatar) and my love of Ren Faires, and in no time at all he was perfectly relaxed and talkative. I had decided to take my role as his First seriously and I was definitely in an older woman teaching mode. We chatted about all this stuff for maybe a half an hour.
Finally, I said, “So, Josh, you’re not a virgin anymore.”
He gave me a big grin, still sheepish.
“I don’t know if you realized how big your cock is. You’re going to make the girls really happy with it,” I said. I saw that, sure enough, made it twitch a bit. I started tickling him a bit down there and it quickly filled and came rearing back to life.
I decided this might be a good moment for an anatomy lesson. I had him lean back on the headboard while I leaned back on the footboard and opened my legs. I had had all my pubic hair lasered off, so my girl was an open book, so to speak. We masturbated for each other. He was shy about it at first (it having been, no doubt, a highly secretive activity for him all his life). I explained how women’s pussies were very different one from another, and tried to show him a bit about the clitoris and different ways it can be worshipped.
I wasn’t sure he would be ready for what is (for some) a fairly extreme step of exploring a woman orally, but he was eager to try. He was very enthusiastic, but he responded respectfully and well, as I tried to teach him the things my own particular pussy liked and didn’t like.
I must say here that I was getting very turned on by my being the older woman schooling a younger man in the finer points of sex and the female anatomy. I was only thirty myself at the time, but my sex life had a lot of miles on it, in a manner of speaking. Anyway, the role was getting me aroused.
When he went in for round two of fucking, Josh was a lot better at it. He didn’t necessarily go the distance of a marathoner, but he managed a good five or six minutes. He’d told me he didn’t really like the sensation of cumming in the condom, so I suggested when he felt it rising, he should pull out, quickly roll the rubber off, and ejaculate freely on my belly. But––oh glorious Fountain of Youth (I guess)––he pulled out from the missionary position, sat back, yanked the rubber off, and squirted all over my face, hair, and the headboard behind me. I had had a boyfriend when I was a teenager whom, foolishly lacking any form of birth control, I would fuck bareback relying on him to pull out. He, too, had the long firing range of a porn star, and a number of times he shot me in the eyes, which stings and can be quite painful. I’ve never cared for the porn “money shot” of the man hurrying up to ejaculate in the woman’s face, it seems degrading and is no fun for the lady. At least in my opinion. I’ve known a few who claim to like it, but I’m not 100% sure I believe them.
But I digress.
The session with young Josh was a lot of fun and very gratifying. I saw his father a few more times, but, other than thanking me for my services to his son, he never said anything more about it. (To my discredit, I have to say that when I was back with Jonathan I couldn’t help but notice again how his manhood didn’t measure up to his offspring’s.) I don’t know where Josh’s sex life went after that, but I told him that if he was to get himself a minstrel’s costume and learn a few chords on a lute guitar and visit some of the Renaissance Faires we have in Southern California he would probably be a big hit with the wenches. I explained what a codpiece is and how that was just the article of clothing for a young man of his dimensions. No supplemental padding would be necessary.
I was hired, over my twenty-two year career, to break in one or two other virgins, one by the young man’s mother, who happened to be a friend of mine from my gym. I was careful to make sure they were over eighteen.
As I worked into my late thirties, my older woman/younger man scenario played out numerous times, though not with virgins. Typically, they were for bachelor parties or eventually just for men in their early twenties who fantasized with being with a “MILF” (though I’m nobody’s mother). Rites of Eros Agency had hinted that I was even older than my picture seemed to indicate, so that became, towards the end of my career, part of my draw. I was always pretty forthcoming with the educational aspects of the experience, and they often loved that part to an almost fetishistic degree.
If financial circumstances or simply missing my old life ever press me too hard, it would be this specialty that I would advertise exclusively, from here on (as I approach my forty-third birthday).
But I will always remember to wear sunglasses against the projectile cum shot.
Julianne
- 21.09.2020
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- First Time
