If I tried to describe myself to someone I’d say that I am an athletic, well-built, 44 year old man, with a reasonable amount of intelligence. I am average in the looks department; I’m no male model, but I believe I still attract attention from the female species. I have been married once but my wife died when she was only 28. It was a car accident. I was in a terrible state after her death, but since then I’m just grateful that she didn’t die from some dreadful disease like others who have died young. We didn’t have any kids and I have remained single since that time.
This status has been by choice; I enjoy my own company as well as female company – whenever the occasion presents itself. I seem to get on great with people in general, but I get on better with people that are older than me, especially older women.
An unusual idea came to me not long after I’d paid a visit to my friend Ken’s Liquor Store. I’ll explain more about that idea later in this story, but I’ll tell you about Ken first. He’s not only the store owner, he also manages the place. Ken is married, loves his wife to bits, and he likes his “extra-curricular activities” (E.C.A.’s) more than anyone else I know.
I was at Ken’s store a couple of days ago. We were talking about business in general and ‘quality-control’ testing some of his stock. It was just after 5.00pm and as a number of the local businesses began to close for the day the liquor store got busier. Ken excused himself for a few minutes and went out to help the two staff running the check-outs. Twenty minutes later and the ‘rush-hour’ began to slow down again. He left the staff to look after the store and returned to the back-room to continue our conversation.
According to Ken, most of his E.C.A.’s seem to be older women, “You know Dave, I just can’t get enough of them. I don’t know what it is but they really seem to think that this time is going to be their last… and my God, they go for it like bunny rabbits on a warm day in Watership Down. I definitely wouldn’t choose a twenty something over a fifty or sixty something after some of the experiences I’ve had in the last couple of years in this very room.”
Looking at his watch, Ken said, “Give it about another twenty to thirty minutes and you’ll see what I’m saying.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s Tuesday. At about 5.45, a woman you may have seen at the post office in town will be in here to join me for a quiet drink. She’s a friend”. With this Ken began to stick one of his fingers in his mouth, right up to the second, then he went to the third knuckle, almost choking himself in the process. He rolled it around, covering it in saliva, and then moved it in and out as though he was loosening up a very tight pussy. “When I say ‘friend’ Dave, I mean… this woman gives the best blow-jobs I have ever had in my life, I kid you not – I have had my fair share of good blow-jobs, but these are something else. What makes it interesting is that she is at least 57 and she’s single… again. Husband died two years ago. Gorgeous piece of ass like you will not believe!”
I couldn’t remember the woman he was talking about, but if she was going to be here in the next half hour I would probably have my chance to see her in person. I was certainly interested to see this maestro of the blow-job.
“When she arrives,” Ken said, “stay for a polite amount of time – say five or ten minutes, make conversation as though you have no idea what is going to happen, then shoot through at the same time the two staff out there close up the store at 6.00pm. Tuesday is the earliest closing day of the week, so I’ve arranged ‘a stocktake’ as far as my wife is concerned. When you go out the front door, go around the side and come in through this entrance here, behind these boxes.” He said this while pointing toward a stack of cardboard boxes up against the outside wall of the room. “You’ll see what I’m on about from there. You’ll have a better view there than you get from the best seat at the movies.” Ken took a big sigh and said, “Dave you will not go back to the younger ones after you’ve seen this mate!”
I have to admit, I couldn’t wait for this little spectacle to begin. I was getting horny just thinking about it. My lust for older women was unknown to Ken, but he obviously felt the same way.
Where Ken suggested I take up my vantage point would definitely allow me a clear view into the ‘back-room’ as he called it. This part of the store was almost in darkness so there’s no way I would be seen by anyone inside the room. The cardboard boxes were adjacent to a reinforced steel roller-door where deliveries were made during the day. A small door, which would not have been out of place in Fort Knox, was to the left of this and Ken explained that he would leave it open for my entry and the roller door would be shut and bolted. All I had to do was re-lock the door after I’d made entry. After the show was over and the woman had gone on her way, Ken would then let me out so there would be no alarms going off and cops crawling all over the place.
The ‘room’ that Ken referred to was in fact his office. It was a sizeable room, with a desk in one corner, on the same wall as the door leading into the place. The desk was complete with computer, scanner and printer, and a chest of drawers sat next to this with a fax machine and a coffee machine competing for space on top. Against the opposite wall there was a leather sofa, and to either side of this there were matching leather arm chairs, a coffee table lay in-between. The fourth wall had a trestle-table that doubled as a ‘boardroom’ table and a place where Ken could spread out his paper-work. The windows above the table were the ones I would be able see through, but nobody would be able to see me.
As my mind was trying to take in what we’d arranged, there was a shout from one of the staff, “Ken, the woman from the post office is here… are you buying stamps after hours again?” I don’t think Ken’s secret was as secret as he thought. I hoped that the woman hadn’t heard the remark.
Ken yelled, “OK, I’ll be there in a sec.” He looked at me and said, “Everything understood?”
“Yes, no worries.”
Moments later Ken left to greet his visitor. He soon reappeared with Brenda.
Brenda was a well dressed woman who appeared to be only an inch or two shorter than Ken, and he was at least 5’10”. She didn’t have higher than normal heels on her shoes so she was only a fraction taller than she would be in bare feet.
After Ken made the introductions and offered us drinks he went out into the store to help with the closing up process.
Brenda seemed really friendly toward me and explained that she was the Manager at the post office branch about a mile up the road from Ken’s store. She said she had worked at the post office for several years, and in fact had only started there full time after her husband died. “I met Ken a few months ago when I came into his store for some sherry, of all things, to add to a recipe I was making for dinner. We have been friends ever since. I often call in for a hello and a quick drink on my way home from work on Tuesdays. He told me it was his easiest work day, so I don’t think I’m intruding too much if I stick to only that day of the week.” She smiled innocently, but I couldn’t help wondering what she would say if she knew that I was fully aware of her E.C.A.’s with Ken?
Her hair was salt and pepper, with auburn being the predominant colour. I thought that the grey flecks made it look better than just auburn by itself. It was cut quite short and framed a face that I immediately thought of as beautiful. I would not have known she was 57 if I hadn’t been told prior to our meeting. She looked to be about my own age, maybe even less. Her figure was obviously obtained from hard work, maybe aerobics or some other gym discipline. She certainly wasn’t built the way she was from only sitting behind a desk. This woman reinforced all of the reasons why I like older women so much. Within minutes I was talking to her like we had been friends for years.
Ken came back in just after 6.00 and asked if he could top up our drinks before he officially shut down the store to the public. As this was my cue to get scarce I said, “No thanks Ken, I’m off. I have to be at dinner at a friends place by 7.00.” I said my goodbyes and Ken showed me out through the store front. With a nod of the head, and a quick wink to Ken, I went around the side of the store and in through the small door in the back wall of the building. I quietly locked the door and made my way to my selected spot behind the boxes just as Ken was coming back through the darkened interior of the store. The lights were still on in the back room, so I was able to see the inside as though it were a stage set.
Ken is the same age as me; in fact we went to the same schools as we were growing up. He has managed to get himself a bit of a paunch since then – probably from working in the liquor industry, but in general terms he still looks OK.
As he came into the room he smiled at Brenda, reached for his drink from the coffee table and sat in one of the armchairs. She was sitting on the sofa opposite; she re-crossed her legs to get more comfortable, and then said, “Your friend Dave seems like a nice guy Ken?”
“Yes, he’s a great guy; he’s been a friend since we started school together at the age of five. We went right through the whole education thing, all the way to doing the same business degree at university.”
“Is he married?”
Ken smiled and said, “No he’s not; why do you fancy him Brenda?”
“Well he does seem like a person that I’d like to meet again, and as the liaison that we have is purely sexual, we can’t exactly call it a love affair can we?”
Apart from being able to see the room as well as a TV screen in my home, I could also hear every word as clear as a bell. The conversation didn’t seem to be going the way that Ken had planned, and he seemed to have completely forgotten that I was there.
There was a petulant note in his voice as Ken said, “You don’t seem to complain about your bit-on-the-side with me every Tuesday Brenda?”
“No, that’s true. I missed sex so much after my husband died that I was pleased when we struck up this once a week thing. It’s uncomplicated and at least I get to ‘blow-off-some-steam once in a while, so to speak.” She smiled again, and then laughed a little at the pun. Ken couldn’t help but smile back. He knew that there was no way he was going to maintain what he had with Brenda, she wanted more than just a sordid little affair in a back room of a liquor store. However, if it was going to end he would attempt to get his final blow job and call it a day.
“We seem to have come to a crossroads, don’t we?”
“Yes we have,” she said. “I wanted to call in one last time and say goodbye Ken. You have been kind to me so I thought that I’d be kind to you, one more time.” With this, she got up from the sofa and walked the few paces to where Ken was sitting; she knelt before him, in between his legs. She took his drink from his hand and laid it on the coffee table. I looked on and felt a stirring in my groin.
Her experienced hands reached over and unfastened the belt holding up Ken’s pants. The buttons and zipper were next, then with one fluid movement she pulled them over his hips and down past his knees. The pants continued the rest of the way to his ankles, and finally lay against the rug on the floor. Brenda reached forward again and pulled the waistband of Ken’s boxers outwards. She pulled them out further than normal so she could avoid snagging them on his erection. They quickly joined his pants around his ankles.
It seemed strange to be watching this live show with Ken and Brenda as the stars. It was the first time that I had ever done anything like this in my life. Despite my slight embarrassment I was fascinated. What made the situation embarrassing for me was actually seeing Ken’s erection. I had seen him in the showers in the past, but really not taken any notice. He was just one of my friends having a shower on those occasions. Nine times out of ten his cock was flaccid when he was in the shower anyway. This time his cock was rigid. What really surprised me was that it was so small in comparison to my own. It was not all that much bigger when it was rigid than it was when it was flaccid. Even as I thought this, I couldn’t help but feel a bit strange about comparing size. Ken’s cock, even bloated as it was with all the veins sticking out, it was probably only five inches long. What was impressive was when Brenda bowed her head and in one swoop she took the whole of Ken’s shaft into her mouth in one movement. There was no gagging, there was no hesitation, and it just went in right up to the point where his balls were resting against her chin. Ken simply made a loud groaning noise and his eyes shut… a look of ecstasy on his face.
Brenda was certainly a maestro in the art of blow jobs. For the next few minutes her head bobbed up and down with Ken’s complete cock disappearing and re-appearing from her lips. Saliva was dripping down the shaft, making the pubic hair shine around the base of his cock. I thought “that’s probably as shiny as the clear fluid that must be seeping from the eye of my own cock right now”. The enormous tent in the front of my pants was testimony to the fact that I was now fully aroused. The wet patch showing to the left of my zipper reminded me just how excited I was getting watching this ‘play’.
Brenda’s head was now moving up and down like a piston. She obviously had a remarkable way of being able to open up her throat and take in whatever was being put down there. With her hair being short, it didn’t even move out of place as she continued to make Ken’s day. His eyes remained shut and I could tell that he was not going to last too much longer. This was one very talented woman at work here.
Ken blew his gasket moments later. There was an “Oh fuck, I’m going to blow…” and that was basically that. He did. His arms splayed out over the arms of the chair. He seemed to sink into the base as his legs rose slightly, then his little cock ‘plopped’ out of Brenda’s mouth. It was going soft as he pushed up with his arms and straightened himself out. The whole procedure had only taken maybe three and a half minutes at most. Ken was now blowing like an athlete after a hundred yard dash, “Jesus Brenda, you do that like nobody else I know.” He lit a cigarette and reached for his drink.
Brenda smiled and got up from her knees. She took a silk handkerchief from her pocket, and wiped a spot from her chin. She brushed out imaginary wrinkles and creasing from her expensive suit and said, “I know Ken, and I do lots of other things that we haven’t tried even better.”
Completely oblivious to the significance of this remark Ken said, “I hope we can remain friends Brenda, even though we won’t be keeping our Tuesdays free for one another?”
“Of course we can. I might even come in for more sherry if I have a decent recipe.”
I knew that the show was over, so I remained quiet while Ken quickly replaced his boxers and his pants. He fastened his belt then walked out, in front of Brenda, through the darkened store to the front door. My cock was calming down, but a brief thought of what this woman would be like in full flight made it twitch one more time before it curled up beside my thigh.
Ken quickly returned to his office with a smile on his face like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Well, what did you think of that Dave? Was that good or was that good?”
“Ken I am suitably impressed. You definitely picked a maestro in the art of fellatio.”
“I did what?”
“You found someone who can give marvelous blow-jobs Ken.”
“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Ken was grinning from ear to ear.
“Did she / you ever do anything else?”
“No, we only had an hour or so on Tuesdays and I was so taken with her blow jobs that I never got around to doing much else. I’d just give her a couple of drinks, maybe Brandy and Dry or something, then we’d get right into it… me finishing up blowing a head gasket right on time every time.”
“Good grief,” I thought. “Ken you’re a bloody moron!” I began to wonder just how frustrated Brenda really was after this idiot doing what he’d been doing for the last few months. She had probably not been really satisfied for at least a couple of years. How the hell do I meet her?
Ken’s final remarks as he let me out of the back door, “Just stick with your bro’ Dave, I’ll show you how to land ‘em.” I heard the bolt slam home and went around the side of the building to my car. My brain was zooming around at a hundred miles and hour like a hard drive that was about to fly to pieces.
The following day the idea came to me in the form of a brainwave, this is the idea I referred to earlier in the story. My inspiration was in the form of: “Why not seek out women like Brenda who have no ties, they are intelligent people and are still genuinely interested in sex without full time commitment… unless the situation changes on a mutual basis?”
My thoughts went on. “There must be women, especially older women, who are interested in men for sex without all the standard strings attached. Younger people seem to think they have this situation completely under control… but I was not after promiscuous sex where my main concern was the high likelihood of STD’s or worse.
I was thinking more along the lines of: There are women out there who do not have a husband or a regular partner and they just want to have sex with someone who will treat them as an equal and enjoy their body and their mind. There just have to be some of them out there; but how do I go about reaching them?”
With these thoughts firing about like skyrockets going off in my head I decided that I would advertise in several of the local papers. I didn’t want to go national or anything stupid like that, I was certain that there were local women who might fit the bill. If this was not the case, then I would consider widening the net. Some of the ‘Freebie’ newspapers were now getting large readerships, so I would initially use these; people seemed to enjoy reading the advertorial style of writing and presentation, so maybe the intelligent females, with some spare time of their hands, would be potential readers – and ‘customers’ for my project? Who knows?
There was never going to be any question of money, or taking on the role of a gigolo, this adventure was purely and simply to see if there were older women within a reasonable drive from where I live who were interested in what I was also interested in. I was after – uncluttered, uninhibited, no-ties sexcapades, the more often and more vigorous, the better.
There had to be some guidelines, I was not after a Quasimodo look-alike who was celebrating her 90th birthday next week, so I sat down that evening and began to consider some of the items for my ‘ideal woman specification’:-
Looks? A photograph? What Age? When? Where? How were initial communications to be arranged? Her place? My place? Motel / Hotel? Dinner? Lunch? eMail? Phone numbers?
After mind-mapping these ideas, and many more, I had the basics for the advert content. I spent the rest of the evening writing and re-writing the ad’. Finally I was satisfied with my effort. It was polite. It was non-threatening. It was disciplined in its approach; with just a hint of what could be available to share with the right person. The replies could be sent, together with photographs, to an anonymous post office box that I had set up for the project. I had sent the ad’ to four of the local ‘freebie’ newspapers and I requested that it was run for the next four weeks. The circulation for the newspapers I chose was in the several tens of thousands, so by the law of averages and marketing statistics a couple of replies were not too unrealistic an expectation… was it?
The first of the newspapers came out on a Thursday. The remainder of the papers had Saturday deliveries. I made my first visit to the post office box on the Saturday morning, hoping to have a reply to the Thursday issue. There was nothing in the box. I left disappointed.
I went back to the box again on Monday morning, with similar results. The same thing happened the next weekend, but the result was different on the following Monday.
This time, when I returned to the box on Monday there appeared to be at least a dozen replies in the bundle I grabbed from the box. My face began to get hot at the thought of my advert encouraging women to write back to me with the thought of sex being foremost in their minds. The letters went under my arm and I seemed to get back to my car without touching the ground.
It turned out that there were in fact ten replies, not twelve. The first seven replies actually made me feel quite sad. They were women in their late seventies and eighties who were really more interested in having pen-pals or someone to visit or phone them occasionally. The photos were all of women who were kind looking people but not suitable for this particular project. I decided before I ventured down this path that I would be replying to all letters… regardless of the circumstances. So all of the unsuitable ‘applicants’ would receive a reply that would not embarrass them nor encourage further communication. After all, I was not setting up a pen pal writing school or a geriatric dating club.
From the remaining three letters there were three potentials; in fact one of them was a complete certainty.
The 8th reply was a woman of 53 called Raewyn. She had divorced her husband and had begun working again as a stenographer at the high court in the city. She was under no illusions about what was being asked of her, so I would be writing back to her to take things further. She obviously took pride in the way she looked. I began to think, this is a good start to this process.
The 9th reply was a stunning 63 year old that looked about late forties. Her husband had died and she was fed up of “going without”, in her words. She had suffered some silly games with old friends from her marriage days and wanted something different. She was “game for most things”, according to her letter. She was a good candidate for more communication and possible meetings.
The 10th reply was the one that attracted more of my attention than all of the other replies put together. This letter was from Brenda.
After I had caught my breath about Brenda making contact, I decided that I would make her my first reply. Arrangements were made to meet and until the actual moment we met, she would not know that the Dave she was communicating with was the same Dave from Ken’s Liquor Store.
We decided that we would meet at a neutral place. This meant that new arrangements could be made if all went well after our initial meeting. Neither of us wanted the other to know where they lived before we knew if things would go well or not, so there were literally no ties if all turned to shit. The agreed neutral place was to be a good four star hotel in a city about a hundred miles away. I booked the room for the Saturday and Brenda was to meet me there at 3.00 in the afternoon.
I arrived at the hotel before lunchtime, checking in and making sure that all was as perfect as possible for our meeting. By perfect I mean, that we had drinks, nibbles, KY, Condoms, Feathers, Candles, and many other essentials for a first intimate meeting with a gorgeous, mature and sexy woman. My mouth was drooling from the fantasies bouncing around my skull even before I had finished the shopping expedition.
I got back to the hotel at 2.45. I had a bottle of 2002 Sauvignon Blanc chilling in a bucket of ice, and began the short wait for Brenda to arrive. Another bottle of excellent red wine, a 1995 Cabernet Merlot, had the top off and was breathing on the shelf above the refrigerator cabinet. It was a waste of time being unprepared if all went well. If it did not go well, then the wine could be used to drown sorrows.
When the knock on the door finally came it was so light that I could hardly hear it. I took a deep breath and pulled back the door to see Brenda for the first time since our brief meeting at Ken’s store. She looked an absolute knockout. She was wearing a dark blue pinstripe woolen suit, with a skirt that finished a couple of inches above the knee. The fitted jacket really accentuated her figure and a white silk blouse, that wasn’t quite see-through, allowed a glimpse of her shapely tits. . My first thought was “To call these tits at this early stage is sacrilege.” Then I thought, “Dave, you’re right… a bra straining like that must be holding tits, not just a chest or breasts, it is tits, and very nice ones!”
“Dave, it’s you.”
“You’re right… It is me.” I smiled and Brenda laughed.
“I had been hoping that this meeting was with you, rather than a complete stranger. I have been thinking about you ever since our meeting at Ken’s place.”
There was no further talk, I just took her in my arms and we kissed, hard and long. It was as though we thought that one of us was going to run away. The kissing became desperate; our tongues met and then began to slip back and forth fighting, coiling and uncoiling softly for control. It was the most incredible necking session I’d experienced since I was in my last days of school. We must have been kissing for close to two minutes when I thought, “Shit the doors wide open.” I thought there is no way that this woman is 57, someone had got the dates wrong on her birth certificate.
From that second on she was like a woman possessed, her hands were everywhere. I had a raging hard-on within minutes… I said, “Wait Brenda… just one second.” She looked a little worried, then she looked slightly embarrassed as I reached behind her, put the ‘Do not disturb’ sign on the outside of the handle and placed the chain on the room door.
“OK, where were we? We sat on the bed, and then quickly bounced so we could undress one another before continuing.”
I helped her off with her jacket, then her skirt. These were placed tidily on an armchair, and then the silk blouse was next. One small button after the other was slowly opened and the blouse fell away, exposing her off-white silk bra. As this was unlatched the most beautiful tits I have ever seen were allowed to fall free. I thought “This woman could not have looked too much better than this when she was in her early twenties, she is magnificent.”
My hands went around her back, lodging in the back of her matching silk thong panties. Pushing down the thinner part of the thong allowed it to be ushered from the crack between her ass cheeks. The noise of the movement of silk has always been sexy to me, but this noise was something else. My already engorged cock was treated to another rush of blood and I could literally feel my pulse in the shaft of my cock. I don’t recall it ever being this hard before in my life.
I’d hardly spoken a word since we had begun clutching at one another in the doorway. Brenda had been making soft moaning noises as though she was almost about to have a tremendous orgasm since the second I began undressing her. She was so hot that if I didn’t do something, and soon, she would have an orgasm on auto pilot.
The thong was finally pulled down from between her legs. Pulling from the back had meant that the front piece, over Brenda’s pussy, was the last part to move away. It also mean that my head was very close to her as I knelt down and pulled the thong down her thighs toward her feet. The sight that greeted me as I leveled my eyes was enough to make my face break into a huge “Ohhhh”, followed by, “that is just fantastic Brenda.” Her pussy was completely bald. The lips were protruding about a half inch and they were parted by a gap of about a quarter inch. I could see the hood of her clitoris at the top of the lips and, I’ll never believe the mental picture that appeared next; it was of the buns that surround a cheeseburger, and it formed in my mind as clear as a McDonald’s poster. I couldn’t shake the picture, so I simply enjoyed the real thing in front of my eyes all the more. I left her silk stockings on her legs but asked her to step out of her shoes.
The skin around her pussy was absolutely flawless. It was very pale, the surrounding area forming a reverse silhouette exactly where a bikini bottom would normally be. The skin above and below this was tanned all over the rest of her body; it was all a golden brown. 57 or not, this body was beautiful.
A well toned set of abs made their way up to the tits that had looked so good as the bra came off. This woman looked good enough to eat… and that’s just what I would be doing as soon as I could make my way there. I leaned my head toward her pussy lips and my tongue stuck out, just touching the lips next to her clitoris. I instantly decided that she tasted much better than the cheeseburger my mind was playing tricks with. This didn’t last too long as Brenda began to pull at my clothes in a way that was going to leave them in tatters if I didn’t help her.
I quickly pulled off my shirt, then my pants and with a little more care I pulled the waist of my boxers over the stiffest cock I have ever had in my entire life. Despite the care I was taking the waistband caught the end of it and it sprang back against my stomach, making a loud slap that sounded wet with all the pre-cum dripping down from the head.
When Brenda saw my cock, I thought she was going to strangle it. “My God Dave, where have you been all my life? I have been messing around with your dorky friend Ken and here are you with this magnificent beast waiting to be swallowed!”
My intended eating of her pussy was relegated to second place as Brenda grabbed my cock in both her hands. There were a couple of inches of my cock sticking out above her hands, even though they were above one another on the shaft. She was licking me like I was a giant lollipop, from my balls to the tip. The saliva that she was putting down was making me feel unbelievable, it was like having a tap of warm sticky water slowly running over me.
She then began to alternate between licking my cock shaft to making little nibbling movements with her teeth all the way up the big vein on the under side. This was like an enjoyable torture, as long as she didn’t actually bite. I was hoping she didn’t get too excited with this process.
I know my cock is fairly big without anyone telling me and I’ve never felt the need to brag about it. What was happening now was making it bigger than I had ever seen it before. Brenda then did just what she had done with Ken when I had seen her going down on him. Her head went up over the tip on the final passing lick, then her mouth opened and she began to drop her head down toward the base of my cock. Without even hesitating she swallowed my whole meat sword . I would have thought this was impossible or a camera trick had I seen it on a porno movie. There was no gagging noise, there was no heavy breathing, there was just her mouth around my cock and it went straight down her throat, right up to the hilt. I was obviously amazed, but I was also in heaven. This felt better than being inside a pussy, it was better than having anal sex. It was absolutely fucking marvelous. My cock was in seventh heaven, not just ordinary fifth or sixth heaven.
She began to bring her head up, eventually my cock just popped out of her mouth. The noise it made would have been vulgar if it had been anyone else’s cock making this noise… but it was mine and I thought it sounded not just great, but funny! Brenda smiled, looked into my eyes, took a deep breath and went back down again, this time she began to bob up and down so that my cock was going down into her throat by several inches and then back out again into her mouth.
With this rhythm she was able to breathe OK and it wasn’t long before my best intentions to keep this going forever were blown to bits, literally. The tingle of an orgasm for me begins around about my ears. It doesn’t take long for it to move down my jaw line, and then I begin to feel the build up of pressure in my balls and at the base of my cock. I said to Brenda, “I am definitely going to come if you keep this up Brenda… are you sure about this?”
The warning acted as a sort of signal to her and she let the end of my cock go straight down into her throat, then she allowed it to pop straight back out of her mouth. As it fell out of her mouth and almost hit her in the nose, she clamped her mouth over the very end, where the ‘blind eye’ does not see, and she began to blow… not suck, but blow. This was without a doubt the strangest feeling I have ever had in my life.
What I felt at that moment was similar to when someone pushes their thumb or a finger hard onto the area between your ass and your balls. It made me feel less like coming and more like going. The feeling was definitely not unpleasant and I was ready to fuck myself into oblivion again within seconds.
I pulled Brenda’s very talented mouth away from my bloated cock and we resumed kissing in the same excited way we had been doing earlier. She did not seem to stop her low moaning noises even when we broke off one of our kisses. She then surprised me by saying that she had come twice already, “… but only little ones. Dave this is marvelous… don’t stop. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in years!”
As I began to seek out her tits with my mouth my cock began to find its own way to her beautiful bald pussy lips. Her juices had been flowing so much that my cock simply slipped in a couple of inches at the first touch against her opening, the head of my cock slid past her clit and followed the line right into her welcoming hot hole. Her moaning got louder immediately. I pushed in further, then further still and within moments I was in up to my balls. My pubic hair was covered in saliva and her juices and it felt utterly fantastic as her pubic bone squashed the hairs down flat. Her pussy was unbelievably tight; it gripped every spare piece of my shaft. Despite my thoughts earlier about her throat being better than a pussy; this felt just like it was inside her throat again. Her nails dug into my back and I began some moaning noises of my own. My mouth closed around her nipple and I sucked for all I was worth. Brenda’s back arched and she lifted me off the bed as she remained tense.
My cock was now banging in and out of Brenda’s pussy for all it was worth. I idly wondered why there wasn’t steam or smoke coming from my cock. I thought “surely we should have created fire by now?”
Her back did not want to go toward the bed; it remained arched like a tiger in full stretch. With her in her current position I was able to go onto my knees and have a straight entry into her beautifully tight tunnel of love. Her head and feet were now the only parts of her body that were touching the bed, if she had not been as fit as she was there was no way that this position could be sustained. Her arms then went down onto the bed and she began to push back at me with every stroke I made into her.
I could feel that my orgasm was not far away; this time there was to be no holding back, I knew we both needed an explosive release. Brenda’s moaning went up an octave as she began to claw at the sheet below her hands. I changed from one nipple to the other, my sucking action becoming more and more urgent. The dark areola I’d just stopped sucking was standing proud and glistening with the saliva around it, the nipple was half an inch longer than the one I now clamped my mouth over. A moment more and I felt the need to be deeper into Brenda, I said, “Wait…” She lowered her back to the bed; I took hold of her ankles and began to push them gently toward her head, her back stayed on the bed, but it began to curl around so that only the upper part near her shoulders was making contact. She was and incredibly agile and flexible woman.
My cock was now as deep as it was ever going to get in Brenda’s pussy. It had actually bottomed out. I slowly pulled back, withdrawing my engorged cock, and as the tip broke the surface next to her swollen bald cunt lips I plunged back in again without hesitation. Brenda took in a harsh breath and began a stifled scream. I thought that I had hurt her until I saw the look of ecstasy on her face. Her eyes were wide open and as soon as she stopped screaming she made a hissing noise taking air in back through her teeth. “Oh my God Dave, fuck me… fuck me… fuck me.” The last words were uttered as though she was about to burst into tears. She was shaking so wildly at this stage that my cock almost came out of its warm sleeve, and then it quickly slid back in again taking our warm mixed juices with it. The angle that Brenda was at now allowed the top of my cock shaft to rub up and down on her clit and the orgasm she was in the throws of kept crashing into her as though she was caught in surf. Her head was thrashing from side to side and the hissing noise happened one more time and she looked straight into my eyes as my own orgasm burst its banks. I stopped all movement and let the feeling wash over me. Brenda could immediately feel what was happening and stopped her own thrashing around. We lay as we were and the feeling of both of our orgasms ebbing and flowing was incredible. I was tingling from head to foot, my ass muscles clenching and unclenching in involuntary spasms.
As we calmed down and our pulse rates dropped to less dangerous levels, we slid into a position where I was laying completely full length on top of Brenda. My cock slowly began to lose its marble like texture and we were able to gently kiss and take in the look of complete satisfaction we both had on our faces.
I broke the silence that followed by saying, “Well, we both seemed to need that, didn’t we?” A huge sigh escaped me after these few words.
“Yes, I guess we did.”
“I have a beautiful cold white wine that we were supposed to have earlier. How would you like to try it while we get our breath back?”
“That would be lovely.”
The rest of the Saturday was an exciting and very satisfying blur. We did not leave the room from the time we went into it. The phone, TV and Radio were all unplugged, the ‘Do not disturb’ sign remained on the door the whole time we were there and we made love like there was not going to ever be another chance to repeat the occasion.
When we left the hotel at lunchtime on Sunday I felt certain that we must look like a couple of school kids that had learned about the facts of life for the first time. I got the impression that people knew what we’d been doing for the past day; it must surely show on our faces? I asked Brenda what she felt like and her answer confirmed that she felt almost the same way. She said that she enjoyed herself better than she had in years.
As we went to our separate cars in the car park we promised that we would make contact mid week to see how we felt about continuing the friendship and if / when the next time we would meet. I was certainly interested; I hoped that she was.
The thing foremost in my mind as I drove home was that I still had another two women to make friends with during the next two weekends. What would the 63 year old be like? Maybe the 53 year old would be as good as Brenda? Who knows?
I wondered if there would be any more replies in the post office box when I cleared it tomorrow.