Susannah is a 68 year old wife, mother and grandmother. A retired CEO, she now spends alot of time babysitting grandkids. She is very active in church. These photos are completely unedited except for face concealment. What you see is what you get.
This 5' tall grey haired little lady hails from South Central Pennsylvania. She is very active in her church is well known in certain circles for her philanthropy.
Susannah is a wife, mom & grandmother. She is a retired corporate CEO and is very active in church. Please enjoy!
She always gets yelled at for wearing inappropriate clothes to our pool. Only the senior women care. The men seem to love it.
I am having a rough week so far. Make this old gal's day. Tell me how old you are and you have any use for this grandmother. Love -Suz-
My wife and I have a rock-solid marriage built on a stable foundation. We’ve never been fans of labels or titles, but we do enjoy playing outside our marriage. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s with my wife and another man—exactly what I prefer. I love showing her off and watching her please other men. Over the years, we’ve tried many things to keep our sex life exciting, and one of our longtime favorites is blindfold play.
Many years ago, I read an article explaining how a blindfold heightens all the other senses by removing vision. It sounded intriguing, so we decided to try it. We took turns wearing the blindfold, and I have to admit—it was incredible.
One day, I decided to take things further. Without my wife knowing, I invited a guest to join one of our blindfold sessions. I had everything carefully planned, and knowing her as well as I do, I was confident it would thrill her. With the guest’s permission, I recorded the entire encounter.
She was lying on the bed, blindfolded, assuming it was me. Our guest climbed onto the bed and began licking her pussy. It was his first time with her, so he took his time and brought her to several intense, back-to-back orgasms. Then he positioned himself between her legs, slid his cock inside her, and fucked her for twenty to twenty-five minutes. Finally, he came hard, unleashing spurt after spurt of his load deep inside my wife. As agreed, he got up and left right afterward.
My wife was left lying there, legs spread, with his semen dripping out of her and pooling on the bed. Our rule was simple: whoever wore the blindfold had to wait until the other person removed it. She followed the rule and stayed put.
When I finally took the blindfold off, she had no idea what had happened. My own cock was spent—I had been masturbating the entire time while watching our guest have his way with her.
Three days later, we were getting ready to have sex when I turned on the video. We’ve made hundreds of home movies over the years, so watching our own sex tapes during playtime was nothing new. But this one was different.
She was kissing me when the video started. I told her, “Babe, you need to watch this.”
Her attention turned to the television. She was dumbfounded. All she could say was, “Bill?”
Bill was one of the custodians at my wife’s company, where she was CEO. She was 45 at the time, and Bill was 30. He was an average guy with a slight beer belly. He had always been kind to her, but I’d noticed him checking out her ass and shapely figure whenever I visited. In private, I approached him, told him it was okay, and shared my plan. He was hesitant at first, even though I could tell he wanted it badly. Eventually, he agreed.
As my wife watched Bill expertly using his mouth on her pussy on screen, I had her straddle my face and began licking her. The video sent her into orbit. Her body convulsed as she screamed through orgasm after orgasm on my face. We then shifted positions so she was riding my cock while still watching. I watched too. Right as Bill dumped his load inside her in the video, she came hard again, her orgasms triggering my own powerful release deep inside her.
She collapsed onto the bed and looked at me. “That was the hottest thing we’ve ever done,” she said.
Since then, we’ve played the blindfold game at least once a month. I always invite a guest, and afterward she tries to guess who it was. We then watch the video together while having sex. After all these years, she has only correctly identified the guest twice. I’ve even been the one wearing the blindfold on many occasions. We both put real effort into finding the right “guest” each time.
If you have a stable, trusting relationship like ours, I highly recommend this game. The excitement it brings is unmatched.
The last half of 1982 into the start of 1983 marked a complete turning point in my life. For the previous four and a half years, I had been a Catholic nun. I was good at what I did and genuinely loved the life, including living in the convent. The other nuns affectionately called me “Peanut” because I was so small—just five feet tall and barely one hundred pounds.
My original goal had been mission work. With the diocese’s approval, I had started paramedic training, believing the medical knowledge would be invaluable. Everything changed in September 1982. During a counseling session at church, I met PJ. There was an instant pull. When he spoke about his time in the military and the hardships he had endured, I felt an overwhelming compassion—I wanted to hold him forever. I became far too personally involved and soon fell deeply in love with him.
Over the following months, I wrestled with my future. By late November 1982, I had made the firm decision to leave the convent and pursue a life with PJ—my man, continued education, and possibly children someday. Exactly twenty-eight days before my official departure date in mid-December, I lost my virginity to him. I knew it violated my vows, but the pull was too strong. For those final weeks, we stole every possible moment together in bed. He introduced me to oral sex. I loved receiving it—the way his tongue explored me and brought me to trembling orgasms. Giving it back was harder at first. My gag reflex was terrible, and the first time he came in my mouth I threw up. But by our wedding day, shortly after I left the convent, I had managed four full blowjobs to completion, swallowing every drop.
We had little money, so our honeymoon was a modest three-night stay at a small beach motel. On our wedding night, after a few drinks at the outdoor bar, my husband invited a very large Black man in his forties back to the room. I never learned his name. He became the first man to enter me after I had spoken my wedding vows. It confused me at the time—why would my new husband allow, even encourage, this? While the stranger was on top of me, his thick cock stretching and pumping deep inside, I kept glancing over at PJ in the chair, stroking himself and clearly aroused. It was nothing like the honeymoon I had pictured.
Those three days were filled with raw, relentless sex. We occasionally slipped out for beach time or drinks, but mostly stayed locked in the motel room. The day after we returned, I applied for paramedic positions. I was hired within a month by a local fire department and started in January 1983. I wasn’t a firefighter—I worked as a paramedic on the ambulance. My husband was proud of me. At first I felt apprehensive; I was one of only two women on shift. My partner Gina and I were the only females, and every shift we worked the ambulance while eight men covered the engine and truck. I noticed the way the men looked at me. My husband loved it. His mind began to wander with possibilities.
During the first few months of our marriage, he started sharing my body with other men. I didn’t fully understand it at first, but it made him happy, and I saw it as my duty to please him. He loved watching other men fuck me—sometimes receiving oral, sometimes full intercourse. The men enjoyed it. Some were drawn to how tiny and petite I was, others to the taboo of sleeping with a married woman, and many loved that I was a former nun. Whatever their reasons, they loved it, my husband loved watching it, and I grew to love the intense attention and the thrill of being so desired.
My first weeks at the firehouse went smoothly. Gina and I were given our own bathroom with a shower. We shared the locker room with the men but posted a sign when we were using it. Everyone slept in the same bunk room. Gina and I usually wore gym shorts and a tank top or T-shirt to bed. Even covered, I could feel the men’s eyes on us. One night at supper I mentioned my old nickname “Peanut,” and it stuck. From then on, everyone at the station called me Peanut.
My husband kept gently hinting that if I ever wanted to “play” with any of the men, he was fine with it—as long as he was kept informed. I was hesitant at first. That changed one rainy night in early 1983.
It was 1 a.m. I couldn’t sleep. The shift had been quiet since 8:30 p.m. I wore my usual sleepwear which was gym shorts and a thin white tank top, slipped on sandals, and went downstairs for ice water. I stood in the engine bay watching the rain, the chill giving me goosebumps. My nipples hardened and showed clearly through the fabric.
Footsteps approached. “Hey, Peanut.” It was Randy, a young firefighter on the truck. He noticed my goosebumps and his eyes dropped to my chest. While I was distracted by a passing car, he stepped behind me, pressing his body against my back and wrapping his arms around my waist.
“I’ll stop if you want me to,” he whispered.
“No,” I breathed. “This is nice.”
His cock hardened quickly, pressing against my lower back. My husband’s encouragement flashed through my mind. Something ignited. I turned, rose on tiptoes, and kissed him. Tongues met instantly. I took his hand and led him to the ambulance. I crawled in first, pulled the door shut but didn’t latch it, then lay back on the bench seat. Without hesitation, I slid off my shorts and panties and tossed them aside, my smooth, wet pussy exposed.
Randy pushed his shorts down. His cock sprang free—seven inches, straight, thick-veined, with a glistening head. I motioned him on top of me. He climbed between my legs. I reached down, rubbed the head up and down my slit, then guided him inside. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in hard. He buried himself to the hilt. I gasped into his mouth as he stretched me open. We kissed deeply while he began moving—long, deep strokes that filled the rig with wet sounds. My juices ran down my ass and onto the bench, the antiseptic smell replaced by the raw scent of sex.
He paused, still buried deep. “Do you want me to pull out when I’m close?”
I pressed my mouth to his ear. “No… I want you to cum inside me. Fill me up, Randy.”
That pushed him over the edge. He thrust harder, his balls slapping against me. His cock swelled, and then he groaned as thick jets of hot semen flooded my womb. I felt every powerful spurt. So much cum poured out around his shaft that it coated my thighs. My pussy clenched around him, milking every drop as I came. When he finally pulled out, a thick flood followed, running onto the bench. We cleaned up quickly, then slipped out of the rig.
I went straight to the ladies’ bathroom, sat on the toilet, and let the rest drain out of me in thick globs. My mind spun with what I had just done—and how much I had loved it.
Randy was the first, but far from the last. That night unlocked something wild in me. Over the next months, I dove into a secret life of raw sexual adventures at the station. I never took more than one man at a time, but it became common for me to fuck two or three different guys in a single 24-hour shift. None of them knew about the others. Each believed he was the only one using my tiny married pussy. I used every hidden corner—the hose room, storage closet, women’s bathroom, the back of the rig, even quiet spots in the engine bay. It was always unprotected, messy, and filthy. I craved the feeling of their hot cum flooding my womb and leaking down my thighs for the rest of the shift, a constant reminder of what a naughty ex-nun I had become.
The very next shift, I found myself alone in the hose room with Marcus, a tall, muscular firefighter in his late twenties. He followed me in. Without a word, I turned and pressed my body against his. I dropped to my knees, yanked his turnout pants down, and took his thick cock into my mouth. He was nearly eight inches and girthy. I gagged and drooled as he fucked my face, saliva running down my chin. He pulled me up, spun me around, and bent me over a stack of hoses. He shoved my shorts and panties to my ankles, then slammed into me from behind with one brutal thrust. The wet slapping sounds echoed in the small room. I came twice, biting my lip to stay quiet. When he was ready, he buried himself deep and unloaded, thick ropes of semen blasting into my womb until it overflowed and ran down my legs. I used my panties to wipe up what I could, then walked out with his cum still leaking out of me.
Later that same shift, around 2 a.m., I ended up in the women’s bathroom with Tony, a quiet Italian guy from the truck company. I had woken up horny after a call and slipped into the shower. He knocked, and when I cracked the door, he stepped inside. I was already naked. He stripped quickly. I hopped onto the sink counter, spread my legs, and pulled him between them. He rubbed his cockhead up and down my folds before thrusting in raw. The mirror behind me reflected everything—my small tits bouncing, his thick shaft disappearing into me again and again. I whispered in his ear, “Cum inside me, Tony… fill your little Peanut’s married belly.” He pinned me against the mirror and erupted, flooding me so much that it immediately started dripping onto the counter. When he pulled out, a heavy glob fell to the floor. I sat on the toilet and let the rest gush out while he watched.
A few days later, in the storage room, it was Dave’s turn. He was in his mid-thirties with a dad-bod and a massive nine-inch cock. I had been flirting with him by bending over in my tight shorts. He pulled me into the storage room. The door barely clicked shut before I was on my knees, worshipping his thick tool. I could barely get half of it in my mouth. He pulled me up, lifted my tiny body like it weighed nothing, and pinned me against the wall. I guided him to my entrance and he dropped me down onto it. The sudden full penetration made me cry out. He fucked me standing, bouncing me up and down on his shaft, my juices dripping down his balls. When he finally came, it was like a firehose—pulse after heavy pulse of scalding cum blasted into me until my belly felt bloated. When he set me down, a torrent poured out onto the floor.
The back of the rig became one of my favorite spots. One afternoon between calls, I climbed in with Jake, a cocky young firefighter who was filling in as my driver for the day. We parked in a quiet alley for “equipment checks.” I stripped completely naked while he watched, then lay on the bench with my legs spread wide, fingering myself. He dropped his pants and climbed on top. His cock was average length. He pushed in bare and we fucked like animals—fast, dirty, no mercy. The rig rocked on its shocks. He sucked hard on my tiny tits, leaving marks, while pounding my cervix. I begged him to cum inside me. He obliged, roaring as he pumped me full. When he pulled out, it made a mess. I mopped it up, but his cum continued leaking out of me during the next call, making my panties a sticky mess.
By the end of my third month, these encounters had become routine. Another memorable one happened in the hose room with two different guys on the same long shift—first with Carlos in the early evening, who took me from behind against the hoses, fucking me so deep I could feel him in my stomach and leaving my pussy overflowing. Then after midnight with Steve in the same room. He made me ride him on the floor, my tiny body bouncing on his cock while I rubbed my clit. I came three times before he flooded me, mixing his cum with what was left of Carlos’s. None of them suspected a thing. Each man thought he was my dirty little secret.
I loved every filthy, unprotected second—the constant creampies, the risk, the thrill of being the station’s secret slut while still playing the sweet, petite Peanut everyone adored. My husband was thrilled whenever I whispered the details to him later. Life as a firehouse paramedic had become far more exciting than I ever imagined.
Before I met my wife now, I had a girlfriend. We were very sexually active. One day I went to pick her up. She was not home but her mom was there and had a few drinks in her. The mom was actually smoking hot so of course, I ended up banging her. Her mom was actually a freak in bed! The mom was a cum fanatic. She would swallow, play with it, take it up her butt...any way she could get it. The problem is was that over the next six months, I preferred banging the mom. I was fucking her 2-3 times a week and the girlfriend once a week.
This went on for a 6 months until my girlfriend found out. She dumped me like nuclear waste but her mom and I kept it going secretly behind her husbands back for another year.
She has two Masters degrees from Penn State.
She is a retired CEO who still consults.
She is a leader in our church.
She would rather suck cock and swallow than have traditional sex.
She loves role play sex.
