Sweaty Crotch Woman
Copyright© 2026 by Peter Emrick
Chapter 5
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 - An aggressive woman enjoys taking young men's virginities
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Consensual Fiction Anal Sex First Oral Sex Novel-Pocketbook
Berniece Kramer lay fretfully awake on the smooth, fresh, neatly ironed sheet, the covers folded over the foot of the mammoth bed. She was disgusted with herself. The kid was good-looking, seemed so naive. Difficult to believe he was married to Kitty.
In spite of her resolve, she was thinking about what Kitty had said. It wouldn’t have been half as offensive if he had made her coarse remarks about an adult male, a man near her own age. The distasteful thing was she was probably right: It was an established fact a young boy had the staying power, her long-dead husband had remarked more than once when she demanded more from him sexually than he could provide. “Get yourself a teenager,” he had said amiably on several occasions.
Well, she never had. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, fleetingly. No, she wouldn’t have any part in seducing a kid. After all, she was fifty. And what did it matter she looked fifteen years younger?
Still?
“Oh, dammit,” Berniece swore softly, kicking her feet out petulantly in protest to the painful yearning in her unshriveled loins. “I wish she hadn’t even stopped by. Don’t I?”
Unbidden, her mind’s eye built a picture of the tall redhead, naked, the nude boy atop her, laboring manfully, his lean hips punch-punch-punching his prick into her. And she had expertly perceived he was as well-hung as Kitty had hinted by the way his tight jeans bowled over his prominent genital basket.
“It was enough,” Berniece stewed, smoothing the ankle-length nightgown over her flat belly, “to have her talk about sex without going into detail about doing it with a kid.” She frowned in the dim light emitted by the tiny night lamp on the dresser. She turned her head to the right and stared at her ghostly reflection in the mirror that nearly paneled one wall.
Her oddly shaped jugs bloated the lacy bodice of the nightgown and she touched the blunt tips—hardly any nipples at all—and scowled at the sharp, tingling re sponse in each fleshy fruit. She would admit, to herself, that sex had been on her mind all day. Why else would she go prancing off, nearly naked, wearing that loose sunsuit? Man-hunting?
For an eerie moment, she thought she saw a reflection in the mirror, and she had her nightgown up under her chin, long melons bared. There was someone—Kitty’s boy—was between her legs, hammering cock into her like she had never experienced. As the vision became sharp, she raised her legs high in the air, letting the gown slither down until her lean bottom and pussy with its tendrils of grey and brownish hair were exposed.
“You bitch, Kitten,” she said sullenly, agitated and in deep need. “You rotten slutty bitch.”
In the trailer, Kitty and Skip, too, were awake. “I bet, before we leave, you get Berniece, Skip, and maybe Stephanie, too. Did you see the way both of them gawked at the bulge in your pants while we were at the house for supper?”
He moaned softly as her hand gently stroked his cock in slow, jackoff goadings. “Uuummmm? You getting ready for me, Honey?”
“She’s so old,” Skip whispered, his body shuddering as her hand aroused him to full hard-on status.
“Age makes no difference,” Kitty responded, milking his thick foreskin over the vibrant glans. “Take my word for it, she will be a hot screw. And if you can get Steve, what a treat!”
She clung to his cock, flattened her body out so he could roll on top of her. Then she formed a saddle with drawn-up knees spread wide and guided his prick into her crevice, into her scalding fuck-hole. “All we have to do is just like I told you earlier,” she whined, giving herself over to the ecstasy of his prick slowly plowing deep into her snatch. “We play it by ear. You just watch for my sign and you know what to do. And I bet she’ll make her move by tomorrow afternoon.
“OOOOoooohhhhh, Christ, it’s good! Shove your cock in all the way and start pumping it to my twat,” she moaned, breathing in short, tormented pantings.
Before he began pumping away, Kitty lifted an opulent tit and stuffed the turgid nipple into his mouth for hot sucking while he fucked her. “You’re really getting good with using your prick,” she whispered hoarsely as he banged her hot hole with long, effective strokes, his meat snock-snocking enchantingly into her.
It was one o’clock the next afternoon when Kitty saw Bea stroll from the back porch and head toward the huddle of the pickup camper and trailer. “Get in the trailer, Skip,” Kitty smiled, “here comes your next piece of tail.”
“I’m having a gin and tonic; want one, Bea?” Kitty asked as the diminutive woman slipped into the folding lawn chair, demurely crossing her legs, wearing the same sunsuit as yesterday. When Berniece nodded, Kitty strutted into the trailer, returned with two frosty glasses.
“I was thinking about things, what I said to you yesterday,” Berniece said hesitantly. “I guess it isn’t so wrong-under the circumstances,” she said lamely, obviously referring to Kitty’s reference to being married to Skip. “I understand,” Kitty said.
“From the size of his-well, you know, the bulge of his pants-he looks like he could do a man’s job on a woman,” Berniece said, lean face reddening, eyes evasive. “Does he do as good as a grown man?”
“Better, much better,” Kitty nodded, with just the trace of a smile on her unrouged lips. “You see, Skip can go for a long, long time-and he likes all the naughty kinds of sex...” Kitty let the sentence sort of hang on the warm, humid air.
Covertly, she watched Berniece squirm in the webbed seat of the aluminum-framed chair. “And he wants it at frequent intervals. Well, Bea, when he does, I let him have it-I want to keep him happy.”
“You mean, you two-not just the standard form of sex. What I mean is-orally?” Berniece faltered, face flushed.
Kitty nodded. She thought she could see Berniece’s breasts swelling in the top of the sunsuit.
“Where is he now?” Berniece whispered. “But, orally. That is, with your mouths. I guess it’s okay. And in your case, it doesn’t matter if he’s only seventeen and built the way he is. I guess I can confess I’ve considered how it would be—with a young boy, Kit.”
Kitty concealed a smug smirk by lifting the drink to her lips. “Maybe, you oughta try on a kid for size and satisfaction, Bea,” she said with feigned hesitancy. “My Skip is a rambunctious young fucker. He might give you a romp.”
Berniece’s blush deepened. “Not your guy,” she exhaled the words tremulously. “I don’t think I could do that.”
“Crap! Why not—if I’m willing and Skip doesn’t mind?” Kitty chirped disdainfully. “And I think he might, if he was steamed up and hot to trot.”
“I think it’s unthinkable,” Berniece h-edged, but Kitty didn’t miss the fanning back and forth of her friend’s knees.
“Suit yourself; think about it,” Kitty shrugged noncommittally. You’re getting hot pants, my friend, she mused, smug and pleased. She turned in the chair and called toward the trailer. “Skip, darling, will you bring out that bottle of gin, the tonic stuff, and that bowl of ice?”