More Cougar Hunting








Yes, it does sound a bit creepy – but I’m a home invader, a burglar, a robber, so the way in which I select and treat those I rob from is always going to sound a little creepy, isn’t it?  But when you hear of people saying they are cougar hunters or cougar collectors, I do feel I need to put on record my own methods, and explain why I earn that epithet.


You see, I prefer to look for the mature, single woman, make sure she cannot prevent me removing the valuables – and then, well, we see where the evening takes us.  Let me illustrate with a few recent visits.


Linda for example – an American ex-pat in her early fifties, she liked to dress when not at work in a certain way.  I met her that night in a bar – I had made no particular plans for that evening.  She was wearing a wonderful dress – pink with a brown leopard print, that hugged her curvy body which was clearly naked underneath, and gold open toed sandals.


And she was certainly charming, as we talked – but then, so can I be, as I got to know her to the point where she invited me back to her place “for a nightcap.”  I gladly accepted, and we walked the short distance to her home.  As I watched her, she poured two drinks into glasses, and handed me one before she stroked my cheek with her hand, and asked me what I wanted to do.


I was honest – I told her I wanted her to experience true, fulfilling pleasure.  She smiled, she laughed – and then her eyes closed as I used a nerve pinch to render her unconscious, catching her and listing her in my arms before I carried her through to the bedroom.


When she awoke, I was standing, smiling at her as I stroked her cheek.  She tried to say something – but it was a little difficult, given the panties I had stuffed into her mouth, and the stocking I had pulled between her lips and tied round her head to keep them in there.


More stockings had been employed by me to bind her wrists to the headboard, and her ankles to the foot of the bed, and as she wriggled round I could actually see her nipples under the thin, stretched material.  She looked at me, obviously confused about what was going on, as I told her I was going to show her true, fulfilling, pleasure – and she heard the buzzing as I held up the toothbrush, and ran it over her nipples, then took it down and between her legs…


That’s where I left it, as I departed with her valuables…




A short trip, and possibly not the most fulfilling for me – Selina, on the other hand, was a more pleasurable experience for me, and I believe for her as well.


It was a summer’s day, and the silver haired vixen was in her bedroom, looking at herself in the mirror.  She was wearing a leopard print mini dress that had a plunging neckline and elbow length sleeves, a large white shell necklace covering her chest, and brown rimmed glasses over her eyes.  The only other item on her was the silver high heeled sandals on her feet.


Tell me, have you heard of the Selfie Snatcher?  Well, kidnapping is not my forte, but it was a useful cover for me as I watched from the door, her smile as she took a photo of herself in the mirror, and then her eyes wide as I put a latex gloved hand over her mouth, and whispered she should toss the phone onto the bed, and then slowly put her hands behind her back.


Selina knew she had no choice, so she took her hands behind her, looking at me in the mirror as I used some soft white cord to secure her wrists tightly together.  She didn’t say a word, although I could hear her pants – especially when I took a much longer length of the rope and used it to secure her arms to her sides, framing her chest and stretching the dress over her breasts as I made it tight, snug – even cinching it to make extra sure she could not move.


I then made her kneel on the floor, and as she wriggled round I put her ankles together and secured them with more rope, then I secured her legs together above her knees – and finally tied her wrists to her ankles in a loose hogtie.  She asked me what I was going to do, and so I told her – while covering her mouth with one hand, I gently played with her breasts and whispered into her ear exactly what it was I was going to do.


She was, to put it mildly, not happy with the idea, but as I gently massaged and teased her something changed, and I heard her start to moan – so I stood up in front of her, and told her if she blew me, I would leave her in a way that would make her joy complete and distract her from what was happening.


She accepted the offer, as I held her head and she placed her lips over my soon exposed and large…  Well, you get the picture, and she was extremely good at what she was doing.


And to show my appreciation when she had finished, I tied some rope between her breasts, pulled it back between her legs so that her skirt was hiked up and it rubbed in just the right place, and tied it to her wrists – then pushed a cloth into her mouth and left her on her side to enjoy herself…




Now I know how it looks, that I am forcing myself on women – and yes, I guess in the way of these two women, I did.  On the other hand, if the woman achieving pleasure means they have to be in charge, I am open to that as well, as was the case with Britt.  A statuesque brunette, she was wearing a black leather dress with lace sleeves, dark hose and taupe shoes, and we knew as soon as we saw each other who we were, and what we wanted.


Me – I wanted to rob her and make sure she could not raise the alarm.  She – she wanted to fleece the rich idiot she was with for every penny he had, and then leave him.  I know that was the case, because she told me in her hotel room, when we went up to it – and she and I really talked.


Thing was, she needed to have a little release, so for once I played the submissive one.  She used scarves to tie me spread-eagled to her bed – after I had stripped at her request – and used a whiffle ball gag on me.  You might not know what that is – imagine a table tennis ball with holes drilled in it, and thin leather straps on either side that could be tied round the head.


You get the picture.


So there I was, at her mercy as she slowly stripped in front of me, then started to gently kiss me on the neck and chest as her hands stroked down my body.  Hands like silk and soft in their touch, but knowing where to and how to touch me as I closed my eyes.   I felt her lips travelling down my chest, and then her hand stroking my member, making it larger, making it throb as she placed her lips over it…


It was a most – pleasurable experience, especially when she went between my legs, and mounted me, my body pushing up as she did so in response.  It was truly a wonderful moment, one of shared pleasure, before she left me panting on the bed, showering before she cut me free and allowed me to leave.


That was not an occasion where personal gain was required – that was, I believe, recognising a need in each of us.  A need I recognised in Joan, another lady I paid a visit on that week.  Joan was a rock chick – long red-brown hair held back by a wide hair band, a brown tunic with a black leather belt/girdle round her waist, jeans and over the knee black leather boots with the tops turned down.


She actually was a real rock chick – a member of a band some forty years ago – and had some fine memorabilia.  I do not trade in those things, but her home promised other things.  So I made my way in, believing the house to be empty- only it wasn’t.


To her credit, she seemed amused to be the victim of a robbery, and when I said I had to make sure she could not raise the alarm, her exact words were “so you’re going to distract me as well?”  I said I was, as I opened my bag, took out some rope, and tied her arms together behind her back at the elbows – a move which seemed to make her happy as well.


We talked as I bound her wrists together as well, and then wrapped rope around her upper body, forcing her arms against her sides and stretching her open blouse over her now far more prominent chest.  The bindings were reinforced with shorter lengths between her arms and body, as she wriggled round – then smiled at me as I tied another length of rope around the bands between her breasts, pulling them tight and letting the rope drop to the floor before I put my hands on her breasts and started to massage them.


She closed her eyes and nodded as I did that, sighing as I sank my fingers into her flesh, and then opened her blouse up so that I could kiss her chest – no bra underneath, you see.  I continued to kiss her chest as I reached round and massaged her bottom as well – a move that Joan certainly seemed to enjoy, as she kissed the top of my head – and then I unfastened her jeans and pulled them down slightly, seeing to my pleasure she was truly going commando.


It was to her pleasure as well, as I walked behind her and reached between her legs, pulling the rope back and up so that the strands sank between the lips of her clit, while I secured the rope behind her back at her elbows.  For a few minutes I kissed her neck as I massaged her chest from behind, and then I told her to walk to the bedroom, each step making her moan more.


She lay on the bed, as I crossed and bound her ankles tightly together, and then her legs below her knees, before I searched her drawers – and found her little toy.  A toy I switched on and slipped into her under the crotch rope, making her groan even more as I pulled her ankles back and hogtied her, tying her ankles to the crotch rope.


In fact, she moaned so much I had to silence her with two pairs of panties stuffed into her mouth, and a pair of tights used to reinforce the gag, while I went about my business s- and Joan felt true ecstasy…


I left her there, the sweat glistening on her body as she nodded and her body started to shake again, with a promise I would let someone know.






It does have to be said, however, that there are times when I do have to be somewhat more –forceful.  Not something I enjoy doing, but there are times.  One that does come to mind is a lady in her late fifties called Holly, a business woman who lived alone.  I had entered her house an hour or so previously, and had searched her home to find quite a few nice things, when I saw the headlights coming up the driveway and glanced out of the window.


I could see her in the floodlit driveway getting out of her car – a linen jacket over a white knee length lace dress, a brown belt under her chest, and matching brown heels.  Her blonde hair was cut in a short bob, and she had a slipcase under one arm as she walked in.


Well, I knew I was not going to be able to get away without her noticing me, but I was prepared – so I took a few moments to calm myself down, before I walked slowly down the stairs, the balaclava covering my head so only my eyes and lips were visible.


That was enough to make Holly scream when she saw me however, and she kept screaming as I walked quickly into the room and grabbed her, my gloved hand over her mouth as she struggled.  She had taken her jacket off, revealing the elbow length sleeves of her dress, but as she struggled against me her chest rubbed on my arm – and more importantly, her body rubbed against my body, and that was having an effect on me as well.


Holly didn’t notice, however, as I kept my gloved hand over her mouth, and telling her if she didn’t stop struggling it would be her that got hurt, not me.  It certainly took a while to get her to accept that, but when she did it was certainly not with any form of good grace – so I kept her against me with my hand over her mouth, her head against my chest, as I took from my pocket a red sponge ball and compressed it in my hand.


I suspected she would scream as I took my hand away – and I was right, but the fact she had her mouth open meant I could push the ball in, and cover her mouth again as I told her exactly what would happen if she kept struggling with that in her mouth.    That had the desired effect, as I made her kneel down facing a couch, and put her head down on it as I opened my bag, removing from it a roll of silver duct tape.


She heard me ripping the end of the roll free, and tried to scream again – so I started by taping her wrists tightly together behind her back, and covering her hands as well, before I took the tape round her waist to lock them into place.


The next stage was to make sure she stayed quiet – so I would the tape round her head, covering her lips and muffling her more with each pass, before tearing that free, patting it down, and then making her kneel straight up as I taped her arms to her sides, two wide silver bands framing her chest as it was forced up and out.


She was still trying to raise the alarm, and struggling despite how much she was immobilised, so I smacked her bottom and told her to shut up – and that was when she suddenly went quiet, and slowly turned her head to look at me.  Her eyes were wide open, bit not just in fear - so I smacked her bottom again, and they seemed to glaze over as she tried to mumble something.


I waited a moment, and then smacked her again, before I rubbed her bottom – and Holly closed her eyes and groaned at that.  I told her I was going to punish her for fighting me, as I taped her ankles together, and then her legs above and below her knees, before I sat on the couch and moved her so that she was lying across my lap.


I smacked her again – hard, and then rubbed her bottom, and as she squirmed round I could hear her muffled moans.  Moans, not groans – so I counted to alternate smacking and rubbing her bottom, especially after I moved the skirt of her dress up, pulled her panties down, and smacked her bare bottom.


I could tell she was getting aroused by the way she started to wriggle round, and her moans increased – and yes, the way she was wriggling no me was making me feel giddy as well, so I continued.


Eventually, she started to shake as her eyes opened wide, and that was when I left her to wriggle on the floor, while making my getaway…





Yes, since you ask, sometimes those I meet do allow me – if they had a choice – to go all the way.  Take Diana, a widow in her early sixties that I targeted when I watched her shopping in Westfield one day.  She was a willowy blonde, wearing a white Grecian style top and black leather pants with silver heels.  She walked with a natural air and grace, so I was tempted by her, and by the expensive store bags she was carrying as she walked to the Underground station.  I got on and followed her, with my rucksack on my bag, standing by the door as she took a seat.


She got off at Ealing Common and walked onto the nearby estate, me following as the sun shone, and she walked into an end terraced house.  I walked round the back, managed to get into the yard at the rear, and let myself in – to find her standing at the sink, crying.


You see, money and shopping were her way of dealing with loneliness – and even an intruder with a gun and a rucksack full of rope and other items was company.  Something she was desperately craving.


I told her I had to make sure she was unable to raise the alarm, and she accepted that, standing still as I took some rope from my bag and tied her crossed wrists together behind her back.  I was gentle, careful, and she nodded when I asked if she was all right.


In fact, she admitted she was better than all right, she needed to be loved, in whatever way it happened, as I made sure her arms were secured to her sides with two bands of rope framing her chest.


I asked her if she was serious, and she nodded as she twisted round, so I asked her to close her eyes.  When she had done so, I tore a strip from a roll of micropore tape and covered her eyes, blindfolding her before I used a second strip to cover her mouth, then slowly pulled her top up and over her head before I started to massage her chest with my gloved hands.  She groaned softly as I did this, and then kissed her neck and back as my hands slipped under the cups of her bra, slipping them down before I walked in front of her and kissed them, my lips over her nipples.


She nodded as I did that, and then moved up, my arms round her and my hands tracing down her bare back as I kissed her chest, her neck, her taped lips.  From there, I helped her to kneel down on the floor, before I secured her ankles together, and then her legs above and below her knees, before I returned to teasing her chest as I kissed her back, feeling her move under my hands as I did so.


She was rubbing against me a swell, her pants squeaking softly, but as I unfastened and lowered her pants and her panties, she groaned again – even more as my gloved fingers stroked up the inside of her legs and over her mound.  I teased her there for a while, seeing her twist round, feeling her petals part and the dampness, before I lowered my own pants and whispered into her ear to ask if she was ready.


She nodded, and then groaned after I put her face down onto the couch, and then entered her gently from behind, feeling her grip me as I did so.  It made her grunt as I moved slowly to and fro, bringing her on as I played with her, until I felt the pressure get too great for me.


I managed to bring her with me, however, as she screamed into the tape covering her lips when I came within her, her whole body shaking as she did so.  When I withdrew, I heard her soft, short pants, and left her there before I made my way out…




So yes, I seek to make sure those ladies I visit are totally satisfied.  For example, at this moment I am with Margaret, another local business woman in her early sixties.  When I disturbed her in her bedroom, she was about to go out – wearing a very revealing black mesh dress that left nothing to the imagination, and thigh high black patent leather boots with a five inch heel.


I told her she had to change her plans, so she called the people she was going to meet, before I pushed a folded cloth gently into her mouth, and then covered it with a strip of brown fabric sticking plaster.  I then made her kneel on the floor as I bound her wrists together behind her back, and then as with the other ladies made sure her arms were secured to her sides, the rope forcing her chest up and out – especially when I fed the rope under one arm, up and around the back of her neck under her long hair, and then under the other arm.


She’s not in a position to offer any resistance now – I made her sit on the floor, and bent her legs so that I could tie her ankle to her thigh with rope, and then more rope above and below each knee, with her legs spread, the skirt of her dress hitched up as she looked at me.  I have already found her valuables – but now it was time to offer her reward, as I cut down the front of her dress and open it up, then massage her chest with my gloved hands – before I take the dildo, and slip it between her legs…








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