The Old(er) Ones Are the Best Pt. 02

I was on the point of breaking into the silence.

'You see,' she continued, 'I really don't want another relationship, the last one was decades too long, I'm not getting into that again, I'm too old for the complications of it. I'm not entirely sure what I want, but I do know what I don't want, I don't want another long term relationship, which, to my way of thinking, means I don't want a short term relationship because they can become long term relationships. Sorry, I know I'm rambling, I haven't said this to anyone else but you're sitting there.' She smiled. 'And you're listening.' Then she blushed and looked down at the table, twisted her fingers. Her voice was now almost a whisper, I had to strain to hear her.

'But I do know that I miss sex. I used to love sex. Even with Bob, in the early days anyway.' She opened her mouth as if to say something else, didn't, thought for a moment then. 'I'm really sorry David, for last night and for dumping that on you, I'm......' She's suddenly upset, she jumped up and ran into the house. Fuck!

I give her a few minutes, then decide that I need to go and find her. That I need to explain a couple of things. About me, about her, and about the world. My world anyway.

She's in the snug, standing at a window, hands thrust into her pockets, looking out. I pause at the door for a moment, judging her mood.

I step towards her, stop a pace behind her.

Not entirely sure what to say so I just start. 'You don't have to apologise Jen. We did have a lovely day, although I'm surprised I can walk this morning. Let me say a few things about what you said, and this is from my perspective. I don't blame you for not wanting another relationship, I don't want one either, I'm crap at them, always have been, always will be, I haven't had a long, or short, relationship for many years, and I refuse to have another. Harsh as that may sound I really do know just how bad I am at them. But, like you, I do love sex. So I have sex. I don't particularly like the term but some people call it casual sex, that is sex without a relationship. Sometimes I have sex with a person just once, sometimes much more than once, depends on a lot of things. But I always avoid forming relationships beyond the sex: we have fun, maybe coffee, maybe the occasional dinner. So you should have sex. Casual sex if you want to call it that. You're a long, long way from being too old: you're an attractive woman and there are lots of men and women out there who would love to have sex with you. It's just a case of finding them.'

She hasn't moved, hasn't said a word, but something about the tilt of her head tells me that she's listening.

'So, where do you start? That's the question. Maybe you already have.' Jen's head lifts at that one.

I lean forward and brush my dry lips over her ear.

'Maybe you already know someone.'

I feel her shiver at my breath on her skin.

Brush down over her earlobe then up and down her neck, the soft down bristles at my touch as I push past her ponytail to the other side, breath softly against her ear, she's still shivering as I trace down her neckline to her shoulder.

Gently touch my hands to her hips, slide them up under her tee-shirt to rest them at her waist. She jumps as my thumbs touch her skin and her hands jerk free of her pockets, hesitate in mid air, then drop down to her sides.

My lips, barely touching, retrace their path back to her ear. Lick her lobe, suck and nibble it, release it, rest my cheek against hers.

I start to stroke the soft, warm skin at her waist, just with my thumbs at first then with all my fingers. Stroking and swirling around her waist and tummy, dancing around her tummy button, dipping in and out.

I edge a little closer until the bulge of my already straining cock touches her.

I brush up over her bra. Her breasts are tiny; not even a cup size, her nipples like little studs pushing against the fabric. She groans as I scratch across them. I do it again and again until she's twisting under my fingers and pushing back into my groin.

I slide a hand back down.

Down to her jeans, flick the button open then start to ease the zip down. Feel a rumble in her throat.

I keep teasing her nipples as her zipper goes down, she trembles against me, there's a slight rotation of her hips, rubbing her bum across my hips, against the bulge of my cock.

I move down between her thighs, cup her in my palm, squeeze and rub her, feel her heat through the thick denim.

She seems small, fragile, I could wrap my arm all the way around her chest, lift her with the other.

I keep pressing and rubbing the bump of her sex. She begins to twist and groan, to move with me, her thighs squeezing.

Her body starts to tighten and she grasps at my arm as she shivers and groans before going limp with a small sigh.

I leave the heat and move back up to her open zip, push in under the elastic of her knickers then back down.

I slide through a sparse tangle of soft, damp hair, over the slight rise of her mons until a fingertip touches the hot sticky cleft of her pussy. I press in, there's no resistance and a second finger follows. 'Oh god.' she groans, and almost collapses onto my arm as my fingers rub across her clit and slide in and out of her tunnel.

With my other hand I push her bra off her breasts, begin to caress them, moving from one to the other I circle her nipples and areola: dragging my nails, tweaking and pinching.

Drop my mouth back to the side of her neck, nuzzle her, nibble her ear, run my tongue up behind it until her head drops back and comes to rest on my shoulder,

My cock is painfully hard inside my trousers, I push it against her bum and we grind hard against each other.

And all this time my right hand has not left her alone: rubbing up and down, sliding in and out, sometimes fast sometimes slow, sometimes concentrating on her clitoris, sometimes reaching right down passed her sex, right round until I'm pressing her perineum. But always moving, one hand on her pussy the other on her breasts, bringing her closer and closer.

And she's breathing hard, one hand grasping my right arm, the other my left, squeezing hard.

Suddenly, with a long groan, she pushes her head back into my shoulder and her thighs clench tight around my fingers and press my hand hard against the window cill.

Until, slowly, she begins to relax and, letting go of my arms, rests her hands and forehead against the glass.

But I'm not done with her yet.

Letting go of her I quickly unfastened my jeans and push them and my boxers down to my ankles then, equally quickly, I drag her jeans and knickers as far down as I can get them.

It takes her a moment to process what I've done but, when I press against her back and wrap my arms around her, she pulls herself together and twists her head around.

She mumbles, 'Is that......what......oh god.' as she pushes her hand back between us and touches me, then slips her fingers around my girth and gives me a squeeze.

She groans and suddenly there's that urgency again, what she's been missing all these years is literally at her fingertips, she rises onto her toes and pushes me down, directs me between her thighs.

And, with the least amount of force, I slip straight up into her.

'Ooh!' She yelps in surprise.

It feels good. She's hot, wet and ready. I'm jammed up hard against her skinny arse and buried as deep as I can be from this angle, my cock-head feeling as though it's being squeezed from all sides.

She's got her forehead and hands back against the window, her breath rasping through clenched teeth, visibly trying to compose herself.

I don't give her chance. I grip her hips, pull back, then thrust straight back up into her.

She gasps and I feel her lose her balance, her forehead skidding across the glass as my thrust lifts her.

I quickly wrap an arm around her slight figure and pull her back against me. Then, still not giving her a chance to compose herself, I again pull back and thrust hard.

I feel her quiver with the force of it and I do it again. A hard, punching thrust that drives me deep into her.

She sobs and her head again falls onto my shoulder.

I slide a hand back down between her legs, find her pussy and rub across her clit, start short, hard thrusts: my cock rubbing up her pubic bone and my hips smacking against her arse.

She's groaning and grunting, her breath gasping, her body stretched taut against mine, her head rolling.

I take a chance, find the hard nub of a nipple, pinch it, hard.

She gasps.

And cums.

Like a switch suddenly flicked the heat around my cock seems to bloom and a deep groan resonates as her arse clenches against me.

It doesn't last long, she doesn't quiver or shake. Just seems to hold it inside, to savour the taste of it until the flavour fades. Then, like a taut rubber band slowly releasing, her muscles relax.

And her weight sinks against me.

She shivers once and I can feel her smiling. 'Mmmm, been a million years since I've felt that.'

I kissed her ear and whispered, 'Thank you for giving me a go.'

She laughed at my reference to our first conversation the previous day then wiggled her bum.

'But what are we going to do with this bad boy?'

I pulled my hips away then slowly slid back in. 'This bad boy?'

She groaned. 'Oh no, you're not doing that.' And, with another groan and still hindered by her jeans, she shuffled away from me. 'I need to be able to walk.'

Quickly dragging her clothing roughly into place she turned towards me and wrapped her hand around my slowly wilting cock. 'No you don't, not yet.' She muttered as she dropped to her knees.

A couple of slow wanks and then her lips around my glans does everything that's needed to revitalise me. 'Mmm, that's more like it.' She pulled off for a second and glanced up. 'I can taste me on you.'

And with that she dives back in. With real gusto. She threw everything at me. Deep throating, sucking, twisting, slow, fast, teeth, tongue, massaging and sucking my balls, teasing, edging, the lot. She's very good: either she has history or she's watched a lot of videos.

I didn't care which.

She has a particularly talent for deep throating, even managing to slide up and down with me buried to the hilt.

She keeps me on the edge for so long that the ache becomes painful. I really do need to cum; I know my body and there's a point where, if I haven't cum by that point, then I wouldn't. And today, now, I really want to.

I decide to take advantage of her.

I grip her head and stop her moving.

And fuck her.

Pull almost all the way out and start to fuck her mouth.

Slowly at first, see how she feels about the loss of control.

She doesn't care.

Her hands move from my balls and slide round onto my arse.

But then I've had it with slowly, no more edging. I start longer thrusts: straight in and out. She sucks against me, saliva leaking out, running down my thighs.

Strokes get even longer, pumping between her lips as she gurgles around my shaft.

The heat building now, getting closer, no backing off; I want this.

Push deeper into her, press against the back of her mouth, into her throat: her breathing whistling through her nose as she groans and her fingers dig into my buttocks.

Fucking her, hands on the back of her head, sliding in and out, her lips clamped around my shaft, saliva dripping off her chin, cockhead banging into the back of her throat.

Fuck I'm close, faster and faster, the cum bubbling.

Then a burst of heat at the base of my cock, one last thrust and she gags as the first explosion of cum hits.

Feel the gulp of her swallow and she pushes her face hard against me, takes me all the way in.

She swallows the second pulse.

And one after the other she gulps them down.

Until there's no more.

She pushes against me and pulls back with a huge gasp and a cough that sends a gob of my cum onto my stomach.

I take an unsteady step back and watch her with no small amount of concern; have I gone too far?

Still on her knees her hand over her mouth, she looks up at me. She coughs again and says, 'Wow. I was told that you were a bit of a gentleman.' Her hand drops and she's smiling. 'I think I like it when you're not.' She put real emphasis into "not".'

I hold out my hand, the gentleman again. 'Variety etc etc.' She took it and climbed to her feet.

'Oh yes indeed. Now go and clean up, there's still work to do.'

I touched my forehead, guess she's still the boss.

And work we do, but it isn't as hard as yesterday; a bit more down to the shed but mostly rearranging rooms.

Later, while sitting down for a quick lunch, she asked the question I'd been waiting for.

'So how do you know Stella?' There's a nervousness to her question, as though she'd been wanting to ask it for ages, but hadn't known how.

And even though I've been expecting the question I still took a moment to think of my answer. 'What did she tell you?'

'Not much.' She paused, thinking what to say. 'Nothing actually. She just caught me on my own after one of our lunches: I'd been saying how I wanted to clear some of my things but needed a hand, and she suggested I try you.' She laughed. 'I'd actually said how I needed a strong man and, as usual, the conversation had degenerated into the usual innuendo.' She took on a contemplative look. 'I think there's more to just "you knowing her".' She stopped and looked at me.

'You're right, there is. I met her after I'd left something behind in the bank, she returned it to me, I was grateful and asked if she'd have a coffee with me. She said yes, we had the coffee, we met once more and I haven't seen or heard from her since. That was about a year and a half ago.' I smiled at Jen. 'But you're right, there's more to it than that, but that's all I'm going to tell you. The rest is private.'

Jen pouted; disappointed, but then smiled back. 'Good, does that mean that you and I are private?'

'Always Jen. It's always private.'

It's late in the afternoon and we're in the breakfast room when Jen's phone rings. She looks at the screen, frowns, then moves away.

A few minutes later she came back looking decidedly unhappy.

'My absolute prick of a brother-in-law and his sanctimonious wife have just invited themselves to dinner.'

'You don't like them then?'

She looks at me to see if I'm taking the piss. Decides to let it slide. 'Hmmm, he thinks I should sell the house, actually thinks he'll get some of the money.' She paused, looking at the floor. 'He wouldn't, I've checked.' She said, as if I'd asked the question. 'And she keeps telling me where I went wrong in my marriage and what she thinks I should have done differently, keeps implying it was my fault he had a heart attack. Nothing to do with all the beer and whiskey he swilled down that golf club and the daily exercise of getting in and out of a golf buggy. Cow!'

Definitely wasn't happy.

'Damn!' She looked at her watch. 'I've an hour and a half. Fancy a coffee?' And turned towards the kitchen.

I quickly step forward and bump her in the back, press her up against the breakfast table then push her over until she's bent across it. Put my mouth to her ear. 'No thanks Jen, think I fancy a bit of ungentlemanly behaviour.'

Jen grunted, 'Oh, but......' She squirms under me but giggles nonetheless.

I force a hand under her waist, tug her jeans button and zip undone then drag her jeans and knickers off her arse, down her legs and, along with her shoes and socks, off her feet.

I know that in reality she won't give me that ninety minutes so I quickly unzip my own jeans and push them off my hips.

My already stiffening cock springs up and touches between her legs. She feels the contact and twitches as I press against her. I push a little harder but she's not ready so I ease off, rub up and down her lips letting her heat build. A little more pressure and the resistance has gone, my cock enters her.

I build a slow rhythm, in and out, a little at a time, feeling my way as her pussy gets wet and slippery.

I keep going: boring deeper and deeper until she's taken my full length and I'm pressed up hard against her bony arse and the final thrust brings me up against her cervix.

Leaning over her, hands braced on the table, I take in the moment; the situation, the sensations.

A moment more and I twist my hips and rotate my shaft inside her. She groans and I start to move.

Slowly at first. Short, soft thrusts deep inside her. Getting used to the feel of it; there's a real risk that too much too soon and I'll explode in an embarrassing orgasm that'll see this finished all too quickly.

But I know when I'm past that point and I build on it: longer thrusts that have my hips gently slapping against her bum. Every now and then I give myself a rest by grinding against her and giving her a few short sharp bangs before picking it up again to a full on hard, deep fucking.

And it's having the desired effect on her: I can feel her thighs twitching and her breathing getting faster and faster: once again she's getting close.

Then suddenly she's there: her whole body stiffens and, like a good morning stretch - there's a long groan, her arms and fingers spread wide and she pushes up onto her toes.

And I slow to a stop, still buried deep inside her, and let her have the time.

Then I take a step back and my cock slides out.

I throw off my clothes while taking the few steps needed to get to the conservatory and drop onto the sofa facing her.

Jen doesn't move for a couple of minutes; stays spread over the edge of the table, then lifts her head and looks around, spots me.

It's almost comical to watch as the faint look of confusion changes to one of lust as she sees my vertical cock with it's unwritten invitation.

She unwraps herself from the table and, eyes locked on the invitation, follows in my footsteps.

Pausing in front of me she pulls her tee-shirt and bra over her head then, a knee either side of me, climbs onto the sofa.

I feel her hand as she gropes behind her back and takes hold of my shaft. 'Mmmm, hello neighbour.' She mumbles, then, with a soft gasp, she slides down my length and her still wet heat once again envelopes me in its embrace.

A quick wriggle in my lag. 'Mmmmm.' Then she starts to slide up and down. No rush, just a slow, luxurious up and down with her arms on my shoulders and her forehead on mine, her soft breath floating down across my face.

And she's clearly enjoying the slow up and and down: she's murmuring to herself, sighing and quietly moaning. And every now and again she quivers; just a little shiver through her thighs and up her back, then she might pause to calm herself before picking up right where she left off: with her slow, luxurious up and down.

And it feels fantastic.

It's like a soft, silky wrap gently massaging my inflamed shaft.

So I just rest my hands on her thighs, close my eyes and savour it; that soft, silky wrap of the gorgeous pussy of this woman who, barely thirty-six hours ago, I'd hardly known at all.

But then, even in my sex induced, slightly comatose state, I sense a change.

Her fingers have begun a light strum on the back of my neck and there's a slight shift in her tempo.

It's not much, but it's there.

She's moving just a little bit faster, her body has a tension to it and her breathing is beginning to rasp.

Up until now her little orgasms have flickered through her without any real fanfare: she's just let them happen, enjoyed the moment, then carried on.

This time she's chasing one, hunting it down.

And it's getting closer and closer.

And the closer it gets the more she wants it.

The light strumming becomes sharp fingernails in my neck, her resting forehead now pressing hard and the rasping breath a harsh gasping wash.