Paint My Butt With Your Love : Anal MILFs 13 (Anal Erotica Bareback Erotica Unprotected Erotica Hardcore Erotica Age Gap Erotica): Anal MILFs, #13

By Tori Westwood

My old colleague David is the manager of the local art gallery, and as such he gets to decide what pieces to showcase.  I've just finished one of my own but he's quite reserved in putting it on display.  It's too vulgar, he says.  I'll show him vulgar … read how I take his virginal length in my tight spot for the first time, dragging his love out of him and putting him in his place.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tori Westwood
• Release date: Jan 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386494041

Tori Westwood

Tori Westwood writes short erotica whenever she finds time between her day-job and her family.  She is still searching for her niche, not yet limiting herself to any particular sub-genre, having penned all manner of fiction.  She is happily married and delights in exploring her own fantasies through her writings.  For updates, follower her on Twitter @ToriWestwood1

Book preview

Read An Excerpt

Why in the ass? he said.

I shrugged.  "I’ve never done that before.  It seems ... right."

With that I twisted the lock and it shut home.  David swallowed hard.

It—it’s just that I really don’t think it would be right, he said, fumbling for his pen in an effort to occupy himself.

I slowly unbuttoned my jacket and set it across the back of the chair, popping open a button of my blouse and looking him dead in the eye as I did so.

Ohhh, God, he wailed, pushing his chair out.

He rose and walked around the desk, making for the door.  I stood in the way.

I hope you’re giving this some serious consideration, I said.  I moved a hand to fix his tie and straightened it up over his Adam’s apple.

Amanda, he whispered softly, closing his eyes in the hope of resisting the temptation.

Let’s take you back over to your desk, I said, grasping his hand.

I led him back over to his big leather chair and put him in it.  David was complicit the whole time and I could tell from experience that this was clearly something he wanted, but didn’t want to admit.

You just stay there, I said, and I put my hands on his shoulders.  I'll take care of this.

He gripped tight on the arms of the chair and his knuckles turned white as I crouched in front of him.

Wh—what are you going to do? he asked, looking down into my eyes.

What do you think? I asked, pulling open the belt of his pants fiercely.

He let out a long, panicked breath and then stared down again, as though he was waiting to be revealed to