Every young man knows the feeling of fancying the mother of one of his friends. It’s as natural as masturbation, which of course is what it leads to. These women are in their thirties or forties at most, and if they notice the doe-eyed apprentice who turns to jelly when he sees them, they are grateful but usually not inclined to take him in hand because it’s too complicated and they’re busy enough being a mother, without giving free sex lessons on the side.There are other stories on here about a thirty-something man and some fifty-something women – I know, because I wrote them and most are called Mum’s friend so-and-so – but the tale of senior shagging I’m about to regale you with goes much further than that up the ladder of age.Mona was well into her seventies. She was the mother of Fred, a guy I knew on the Caribbean island of Anguilla. For some reason, Mona had the hots for me from day one. She dark skin, but not as dark as many, and it had a dusky tinge. Her hair was short and curly and her breasts were full; time and gravity had them hanging low. She wore scruffy t-shirts and black trousers, usually with no shoes.Local women in such places are careful not to get a reputation for getting laid by white men, because people like me are regarded as undesirables, rich, middle-class, entitled ponces, and it’s bad enough that we breathe their air and swim in their sea. They certainly don’t want us taking their females. Fred knew Mona liked me but laughed it off; she was an eccentric old dear and anyway, your own mother doesn’t get involved in sexual shenanigans. He just seemed not to believe it.Mona and I would have quiet, Kartal Escort urgent chats when we were with a group of people and she once told me “I haven’t been with a man in thirty years”. I nodded and said what a shame that was and then she started talking about how I didn’t fancy her because she was too black. “I love black women,” I whispered into her ear. “Show me the blackest part of you and I will kiss it.” Then Fred came over and we were obliged to stop the flirtation.The next week a group of us went to Fred’s family’s secret beach, an inaccessible place, miles down a bumpy, sandy, meandering track. There were six of us including another woman and we all swam while Fred donned a mask and snorkel and took his speargun in, to get some fish that we would cook over an open fire.Mona had no swimming costume but went in fully clothed and made no fuss about if afterwards. She just sat on top of the ice box that held the beer, while the sun evaporated the water from her outer clothing and gently steamed the rest. When we were swimming, she had floated on her back with her legs spread, her crotch pointing at me, and no one seemed to notice. She was an eccentric old bird, and the two adjectives did for the others what her status as his mother did for Fred. Mona could indulge in this blatant display and only she and I understood that what could have been going on actually was going on.A few days later I was out just driving around and I popped into a supermarket for an ice cream. Who should I meet down by the freezers but Mona. She was wearing long baggy shorts and a man’s shirt and Kartal Escort Bayan she looked more attractive than usual. That’s not to say I didn’t always find her attractive, but this day she looked like an old film star. We got chatting and she told me she was going down to the beach for lunch and was just picking up some snacks. Could I give her a lift? Of course, I said. She moved along past the freezers to a chiller and put half a big sausage in her basket. I put two peaches and a tub of yoghurt in mine and we stood close together at the checkout before getting into my car and heading off down the bumpy, sandy track.“I could get lost down here,” I said.“Easily done,” she replied, straight-faced. “So could I.  Turn right here.”I did as she said and we bounced up a track where the sand was studded with bricks. At the dead end was a derelict cottage.“So we’re lost,” I said.“No, we’re found,” Mona said. “Don’t you want to be in the middle of nowhere with me?”She got out and I followed her round to the back of the ruined building, where a wild patch of grass might once have been an attempt at a lawn.Mona took a blanket out of her backpack, spread it out and sat down. She reached up to take my hand and I sat next to her.“No one will find us here,” she said contentedly.“You don’t want to be found?” I asked.“Do you?” she retorted. “We can check out of the world for a while. Take some time off. Get back to nature.” She looked at me expectantly, took the sausage from her shopping bag and slowly bit the end off.“With my sausage and your peaches and cream we can have a feast,” Mona Escort Kartal said. “But first…” and with that she unbuttoned her shirt. She looked into my eyes. “You said you like black women. But old black women? That’s different, is it?”“I like you,” I said, and as I leaned towards her, she swung us to the ground, pulling me on top and pulling my head to hers. We kissed as if we had never expected to kiss anyone ever again. Mona took my right hand and put it inside her shirt, and I felt her big, heavy, tired breasts. I pulled her shirt wide and descended on her chest, where I sucked her nipples with abandon and she writhed with pleasure. I pulled the shirt off and raised her left arm. As I licked her clean but deodorant-free armpit, she squirmed.“Ooh!” she said. “You are a naughty one. In case you’re wondering, that isn’t the darkest spot of my body.” She thrust her hand into my shorts and took my enthusiastic cock in her hand. “Thirty years,” she said wistfully. “It’s not right.”“Do you want to suck my cock?” was all I could manage.“Suck my cock, suck my cock,” she said. “How many times have I heard that? No, I don’t want to suck your cock.” She gave it an affectionate tug. “I want to be adored,” Mona said. “Doesn’t an elderly lady deserve to be adored?”“I do adore you,” I protested weakly.“I know you like me,” she said, squeezing my balls. “What did you say about my darkest place? I want you to find it and kiss it.”I undressed Mona and myself and we both lay quietly for a moment, enjoying the sun on unfamiliar parts. Then I began a long, slow journey from her lips down her chest and belly until my face was between her legs.“It’s dark down here,” I said.“It was pink the last time I looked,” she rebuked. She lifted her legs, slowly and awkwardly as her ageing bones struggled to accommodate the wishes of her younger self.“Get on your knees,” I said.“That is something a Caribbean woman hears too often,” she said.