Dale's Women Ch. 04

"Thank you very much. Just get on with it."

"Well, I had to admit that I stood there with my tongue literally hanging out of my mouth, taking in the magnificent sight. I was actually afraid to reach out and touch them: maybe she was just wanting to engage in a striptease. I mean, she was my girlfriend's mother, for God's sake!

"But she didn't stop there. With scarcely a pause she peeled off those incredibly short shorts she had on. I turned out to be right in my guess that she wasn't wearing any underwear. The sight of her gently curving hips, shapely thighs, small but dense patch of fur at her delta, and dainty calves and feet was almost too much for me. I thought I would pass out. In all frankness, she was a lot more beautiful than her daughter!

"So there she was, standing naked in front of me. What the hell was I supposed to do? If I made a wrong move, would she flash with anger and slap my face? What was expected of me?

"She answered that question herself by taking one of my hands gently and placing it on her breast. It was firm and velvety to my touch, its rondure as exquisite as the finest crystal goblet. There was a slight sheen of sweat on those globes, but that only enhanced their effect. Her nipples were proudly erect, and she made a point of taking two of my fingers and squeezing one of them. That got a little moan out of her, but she still said nothing.

"Without hurry or agitation, she lifted up my T-shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. She unzipped my shorts and pulled them and my underwear down to my ankles. I of course already had a huge erection, and she took in its size with a slight expansion of her eyes before falling quietly to her knees and taking it into her mouth.

"That first sensation of her lips encircling my cock was like being transported to heaven. Her mouth was so warm and moist and sensitive that I'm surprised I didn't explode in it in a matter of seconds; but somehow I managed to hold back as I saw her head bobbing quietly back and forth, taking in as much of me as she could manage. At times she licked my shaft like a lollipop, and at other times she bent down and put both of my balls into her mouth. It was—"

"My God, Dale," Gloria said, her hands now fastened to her sex, "you're making me . . . uncomfortable."

"Sorry. I can't begin to tell you what she was making me. After a few minutes she raised herself to her feet and, in a single elegant motion, slipped my cock into her. I don't believe I'd ever had sex standing up, and the sensation was exquisite beyond words. Her pussy was sopping wet, and I slipped in so easily that for a second I didn't even know I was in her. But pretty soon, tight moistness of her vagina began to cast a spell on me. I let her do most of the work, and she was happy to move up and down my cock in a series of smooth pulses that made me dizzy and light-headed. All the while she continued to look me right in the face, her own features remaining calm, almost blank, and her eyes almost unblinking. Her arms were loosely draped over my shoulders, and she let me hold her hips while she pumped me.

"It was only minutes before I exploded in her, grunting heavily as she drained every drop from me.

"She kept me in her for a long time afterward, until I finally got so soft that I flopped out. Only then did she let out a little sigh and cling to me. She suddenly became so weak that I had to hold her up lest she fall in a heap to the floor of that tiny shower stall."

Dale's narrative was interrupted by a sharp cry from Gloria, as her hand worked her sex to a shuddering climax. Dale, watching her, took his own member in his hand and in a few strokes shot his seed all over Gloria's breasts and stomach. For a while she relished the feel of the hot fluid, but then she reached over and wiped herself up—and daintily wiped Dale's dripping organ also, like a good mother cleaning up after her son.

"So what happened next? Did you do her again?" she asked.

"No—not then," Dale said. "I was so drained from the experience that I wasn't sure I could manage. Anyway, someone—a woman, I think—had actually come into the bathroom to use the toilet, so we had to remain silent as statues while she did her business, washed up in the sink, and left.

"After that, I felt so embarrassed at what had happened that I quickly got dressed and whispered to Paula that she should do the same. She reluctantly put her clothes back on—after wiping up her sex with a handy washcloth—and stepped out of the shower stall. Making sure the coast was clear, she opened the bathroom door and, urging me to follow only after a few seconds, walked placidly down the stairs.

"My head was still spinning—not so much from the physical but from the psychological effects of what we had done. I had had sexual intercourse with my girlfriend's mother! There was no way I could think of her as a 'Mrs. Robinson' figure: it was obvious she had never done anything like this before, and before the breakup of her marriage she surely never imagined doing so. But I also sensed that this little episode was all part of her own attempt to heal herself after her husband had left her: she needed to know that she was still sexually appealing to men.

"I believe my actions convinced her that she was.

"But that wasn't the end of it. Before the party broke up, she slipped me a piece of paper that had her cell phone number on it. As Anita—still trying not even to look at her mother in her scandalous outfit—and I took her back to her hotel that night, Paula made it pretty clear that she wanted to hear from me.

"That night, as Anita and I were cuddling in my dorm room, she tried to talk about her mother. 'Can you believe what my mother was wearing? What was she thinking? She looked like a tart!'

"I really didn't want to talk about it and just urged Anita to take a more sympathetic view. That was pretty hard for Anita to do, so we just got down to business—"

"You're not going to tell me," Gloria said in astonishment, "that you fucked your girlfriend a few hours after you'd fucked her mother!"

"Your language, please!" Dale said with a wince. "What could I do? Anita obviously didn't know what had happened, and the party—and, in point of fact, her mother's revealing attire—had fired her up. She'd also had a fair amount to drink, and that usually made her frisky also. So yes, we . . . had relations a couple of times."

"Had relations!" Gloria scoffed. "Are you living in the nineteenth century or what?"

"What do you want me to say?" Dale almost whined. "That I did her in her pussy and in her ass?"

"That would be a little more honest."

"Well, that's what happened. The next day, both of us had a lot of things to do, so we had a quick breakfast and went our separate ways. As soon as I was alone, I of course called Paula. We made arrangements to meet at her hotel around 1 p.m., just after lunch. There was no way we could share a meal together: someone might have seen us and reported back to Anita. Anyway, I sauntered over to the hotel and went right up to Paula's room: she had told me which one it was.

"As she opened the door, I saw that she was dressed in a simple blouse and slacks. I'm not sure what I was expecting: would she be wearing a kimono, a frilly nightgown, or nothing at all? Anyway, the room had been cleaned by the maid that morning, and it was neat as a pin.

"The moment I walked in, she proceeded to take her clothes off. As before, she was calm, collected, and silent while doing so. I followed suit, puzzled that she didn't want to talk about anything before we got down to it. But maybe she did feel a bit of awkwardness or embarrassment at the whole proceeding: how could she countenance poaching her own daughter's boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Gloria said acidly, "I was wondering about that myself."

"I'll explain that a bit more later. For now, we just undressed and went to the bed. She peeled back the covers and lay down on her back, making it clear that she wanted some attention. I gave it to her, kissing her all over her face, then moving down to do proper worship at those superb breasts before going down to her delta and, taking her bottom in my hands, licking her with veneration and gusto.

"She was already pretty wet, and got progressively wetter as time passed. It was obvious she was in the prime of her sexual instincts, and that she had keenly missed being serviced by her husband. And yet, she was a bit less noisy and flamboyant than her daughter when it came to the expression of sexual ecstasy. She made soft little noises, varying from a moan to a squeal to a catlike mew. At times she bit her lower lip so hard that I feared she might draw blood; at other times her mouth fell open and her slender tongue was forced out of her as she gasped and groaned. When her climax came, she didn't cry out or laugh as other women I'd been with had done, but merely let out an immense, long-drawn sigh of profound satisfaction and went boneless. Her eyes had been closed most of the time, although now and then I could see that she gave me a startled little peek, as if not quite believing that this was happening. But now her eyes popped open, and it was clear she was having trouble focusing on anything.

"By this time I myself was mightily aroused, and I couldn't be troubled to have her give me oral sex or anything else. I just moved up her body and plunged in her to the hilt, making her eyes widen as the length of my shaft stretched her a bit. I sensed that her husband hadn't been quite as well-endowed as I was, and that she was having just a bit of difficulty adjusting to my size and girth.

"But she got into the swing of things pretty quickly, wrapping her legs around my thighs as I pounded her and squeezed her breasts with my hands and pasted a long, wet kiss on her mouth. As in that crazy session in the shower stall, I came more quickly than I had wanted to, and pumped her full of my stuff as my own climax stretched on longer than usual. I wasn't keen on coming out, but after a while she protested that I was making it difficult for her to breathe—so would I please get off?

"That, of course, was only the beginning. Later I introduced her to the pleasures of rear entry—"

"You're telling me she hadn't done that before?" Gloria burst out. "From what you say, she seems quite the sexual expert."

"Actually she wasn't: I mean, she had only had one sex partner for nearly twenty-five years, and their sex had apparently been none too adventurous. I didn't ask if they'd had anal sex, but when I proposed it her eyes grew big and she initially looked at me with some alarm—but then she gave me a shy smile and said, 'Sure, okay.' I found some lubricant in the bathroom—"

"Your lube of choice—cold cream?"

"No, there wasn't any. But I found some moisturizer that the hotel provided, and that would do. Like you, she seemed a bit queasy about the idea of my applying the stuff myself, but she was a good sport about it. I think I hurt her that first time, but I made sure to stimulate her sex so that she would least get some pleasure out of it. In fact, I think we came together that time."

"Good for you!"

"Don't tease me! This was really a wonderful session, and I came twice more—"

"Twice! Omigod. . . . You came four times with her? After having done her the previous afternoon and her daughter that night?"

"Yes," Dale said with quiet smugness. "I was twenty-two, and boys—er, men of that age have great recuperative powers."

"I suppose they must."

"Anyway, it was fabulous, and I 'did' her, as you say, the next two afternoons too—would have done her the next day, but the stupid graduation ceremony lasted all day. The three of us—me, Anita, and Paula—had a nice, um, intimate dinner that evening, and Paula was to leave the next morning.

"She and I actually hadn't talked much during our sessions: it was obvious she just wanted to get down to business and make up for the sexual drought she had had (which probably extended well beyond the six weeks she'd been alone after her husband left). And with Anita hanging around the whole time we were taking her to the airport, it wasn't clear whether there would be any chance for us to say what we had to say.

"And what was that, anyway? I wasn't even sure. I mean, it wasn't as if I was going to say, 'Ah, dear Paula, love of my life, let's sail away together into the sunset!' And I'm sure she wasn't thinking anything even remotely along those lines either. Was she in any way ashamed or embarrassed that she was venturing on her own daughter's territory? I don't think so—for a reason I'll explain in a minute.

"But we finally got a chance for a brief chat when Anita drifted off to a restroom while Paula was waiting for her bags to be checked. She gave me a shy smile and said:

"'You've been wonderful, Dale.'

"'So have you!' I couldn't resist exclaiming. It's not clear we were referring to exactly the same thing. She then said:

"'I feel a lot better, and I thank you for that.' Again, I'm pretty sure she wasn't referring merely to the euphoria you have during and after sex.

"I was curiously humbled by her comment—I got choked up, and was afraid I might burst into tears!"

"Yes, you do that, don't you?" Gloria said.

"You should have seen her! She was just standing there, hands at her sides, gazing up at me: at one and the same time she looked like a little girl whose daddy had just relieved her of some intolerable injury, and a wise old grandmother gaining a renewed sense of the wonders and glories of life. Even with all the people milling around, and Anita likely to come back within minutes, I just wanted to grab her, hold her tight, and kiss the daylights out of her—"

"And maybe grab her bottom?"

"Maybe! But I restrained myself. I did give her the lightest and shortest kiss you can imagine—and my cock sprang to attention under my clothes. She intuitively sensed that, and as she saw over my shoulder her daughter sauntering back in our direction, she gave my groin a little tap and said, 'You're a dear, dear man.'

"Then Anita came back, and we bundled Paula off to her plane.

"The thing was that Anita and I pretty much knew our relationship was over. With our bachelor's degrees in hand, we were going our separate ways. I was headed back to my family home in Greenwich and my life of 'leisure,' while Anita—far more ambitious than I—had been accepted into a Ph.D. program at the University of Chicago. Even though we made all kinds of protestations that we would stay in touch, maybe even visit each other on quick weekend trips, we both knew it was not going to happen.

"And Paula knew it wasn't going to happen either. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that Anita and I were not exactly meant for each other—that it was a typical college romance that would fade into our memories as we met other people and went on with our lives.

"And that, in fact, is exactly what happened. Anita stayed in town another month or so, then headed out to Chicago early to get settled before her classes started that fall. We had sex pretty much as usual during that month, but we were both going through the motions. And when she left, we in fact never wrote to each other or called or visited.

"The funny thing was that I stayed in touch with Paula quite a bit longer. I spoke to her a number of times on the phone over the next six months, urging her to 'get back out there' into the dating world and find some suitable man who could make her happy. After a while she took my advice and got onto some online dating site. She was constantly asking my advice about men—not just relating to sex, but all manner of other things—and I did the best I could to help her.

"After about three months she seemed to find a man—a couple of years younger than her—whom she really liked, and whose sexual prowess was pretty impressive. She would actually tease me about it, saying, 'Alan did me three times last night, once in each orifice. I'm trying to get him to match your record of four.'

"But eventually she stopped calling. That was okay: I was pleased that she had seemed to find some happiness, and more pleased that I had had at least a little to do with it."