I Waited Twenty Years Ch. 03

My name is Lars Bach. I'm forty-six years old and for the past two months I been fuckin the gal of my dreams. I had waited twenty years for that pussy but it was worth the wait. And there's over a month still left on this cruise.

I been working on cruise ships in the Caribbean and Mediterranean since I finished college and after regular promotions I'm second in command of a really nice ship on the Seabourn line. I cruise for three months and spend the next three months with my wife Gro at our home in Bergen.

This new pussy belongs to Kirsten Jensen, a gal I went to school with and later worked on a cruise ship with. She's two years older than me and married to a good friend of mine Stein Jensen. They live near us in Bergen and when she was young I tried to fuck her, but she wouldn't fuck till she got in her late forties. "Mature" as they say.

Anyway, I got her the first night of this cruise and a lot of nights since. There are always a few empty cabins on any cruise ship and I get a key, stock the room with booze, and use it for our rendezvous. Obviously we can't use the crews-quarters to fuck, even though I've got a private cabin.

There was only one small problem – or perhaps I should say YOUNG problem! Kirsten had discovered a twenty-four year old Lieutenant who fucked like a stud and who could pump four loads in one night. That was something that Kirsten, aged forty-eight, simply could not resist, although each time she fucked him she was a wreck for days afterward. She couldn't fuck him more than once a week, if that.

But tonight was one of those nights. I could see the signs of Kirsten getting horny for several days and when neither she nor Lieutenant Ryan Allen showed up at dinner I knew they were off in an unoccupied luxury suite getting their toys together. That left me sitting in the bar alone and I surveyed the crop of middle age ladies drinking at the bar while their husbands spent time in the casino.

It was the usual mix. A half dozen gals from their late forties up to maybe sixty, expensively dressed to show off their bodies, and sipping their drinks slowly. Most were twenty to forty pounds overweight and most had carefully done blond hair and diamonds. Nothing cheap here - this crowd had money! After all, Seabourn was top of the line and cost three times what a Carnival cruise cost.

This was our third night out from Miami and I had seen most of these gals before. One gal in particular caught my eye. She had been there both the previous nights and each night she was there late when I checked on the ship before I retired. I don't think she scored so she was probably getting horny.

She looked to be in her middle fifties, maybe thirty pounds overweight with most of it on her hips and tits. That's where I liked handholds to be when I made 'em do me cowboy. Blond with a nice face – the kind of face I like to watch sweat when she worked hard on top pumping for her orgasm.

She looked like a cruise ship veteran whose husband spent all his time in the casino. I'll bet she's got an estrogen-primed pussy just quivering for action and she's probably experienced with cruise ship junior officers. Hell! I may be too old for her!

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. After tonight's marathon, Kirsten's pussy would be too tender to touch for the next two nights, at least. That was till me got back to Miami.

I walked up and sat on the stool next to her at the bar. I was wearing casual clothing since I wasn't on duty. The bartender recognized me and mixed my usual Knob Creek on the rocks.

"Are you enjoying your cruise?" I asked with a smile.

She turned with a genuinely gracious, wide smile and said, "It's a beautiful ship and the weather is perfect."

"My name is Lars," I said.

"I'm Joan," she said. "I notice you're not wearing your uniform."

"I'm not on duty tonight," I answered. "Do you cruise a lot?"

"Several times a year. Hubby likes the casino and I like the sun and fun. We cruised the Med three months ago – also on Seabourn – that's our favorite line."

"Thank you," I responded. I felt good when people liked our ships.

Then holding my glass up in a toast I said, "Here's to an enjoyable Seabourn cruise."

Joan smiled. Then, clinking her glass against mine, she said, "I'm gonna work hard to enjoy it."

I sipped my drink and THOUGHT to myself, "Baby, if you do me cowboy tonight you will work hard and you will enjoy it."

But what I actually said was, "Would you like a walk around the deck?"

Joan and I finished our drinks with a couple of swallows and I put my arm around her waist as we headed through the door and out on to the deck.

The ship was slipping smoothly through the water and a bright, almost full, moon reflected against the sea. It was a beautiful night – the kind the Caribbean is justly famous for.

We walked slowly along the deck, taking our time, admiring the view, and enjoying the gentle breeze. On two occasions I took her gently in my arms and kissed her – not passionately, but lovingly - and I casually checked out her equipment. Finally after we had made a full circle of the deck I led her to the railing where we watched the waves rushing by for several minutes.

"Do you want to go back to the bar?" I finally asked.

"You bastard! Why do men do that?"

"Do what?" I asked innocently, even though I knew exactly what she was talking about.

"You know what I mean! You're gonna make me ask for it. I've had other guys do the same thing! Why do men make a woman ask for it?"

I laughed, softly. "Because every man I know, for all of his life from high school on, has had to work hard to get some reluctant bitch into the sack. Candy or flowers or nice restaurants or something to get her to say yes - and the poor bastard is always the one who is doing the asking and lots of times the answer is no."

Joan laughed at that, a loud musical laugh. "So now you want to be asked?"

"You got that right. And all the gals I meet always ask – the mature ones, that is."

"And just why is that?" Joan said coyly.

"Because gals put on a few pounds, they feel overweight and neglected, their menopausal hormone changes kick in, and their husbands quit fucking them. Their doctors prescribe hormones to help them feel better, they start to use that estrogen cream to keep their pussies soft and, before you know it, they get horny as mountain goats - all they want to do is fuck. They need it. And they will ask! Take your time and they will all ask."

"You bastard! You just described me perfectly!"

"You got that right! I am a bastard but I'm an expert on mature pussy. One of the benefits of being an officer on a cruise ship is the ready supply of mature pussy. On every cruise there are always a half dozen gals in their forties or fifties, whose husbands spend their time in the casino while the wives go to the bar to pick up guys to fuck. I been fuckin horny menopausal broads for twenty years."

I took her in my arms and kissed her – this time passionately - as we stood in the darkness listening to the waves rushing by the ship. I put my hands on her ass and pulled her close. Talking about fucking got me horny and I had an erection. She rubbed her belly against it.

"Jesus that feels good," she whispered.

"I saw you sitting at the bar the past two nights," I whispered in her ear. "Any luck?"

"Not even a nibble!" she said disgustedly. "I haven't been fucked since my last cruise three months ago. I need that thing you got pressing against my belly. I need it bad!"

"Well then," I chuckled, "are you ready to play my little game?"

She looked up at me and, nodding slowly, whispered, "You're a bastard but I'll play your little game."

Holding her by her shoulders at arms length, I said, "Would you like to go back to the bar?"

"No," she said with a sigh.

"Where do you want to go," I asked innocently.

"I want you to take me upstairs."

"And what do you want to do upstairs?" I whispered softly.

"I wanna fuck," she said, pulling me close and rubbing her belly against my erection again. "I wanna feel this hard thing inside me."

I held her and said nothing.

Then she said, "Do I have to say please?"

"Of course you have to say please!" I said with a chuckle.

"Okay! PLEASE take me upstairs and fuck me."

Then she laughed with me as we began walking toward the elevator, again that loud musical laugh.

"Your room or mine?" I asked.

"Oh YOURS by all means. Hubby will be in the casino till after midnight. He knows I'm looking to get laid and it's okay with him. I mean, we don't talk about it but it's okay. But no way do I want him sleeping in a bed with wet spots. He lets me do my thing, but sleeping in another guy's cum is more than any loving wife should ask her husband to do."

I had a card to open an unoccupied guest suite and I pushed the elevator for that floor as we got on. Roger, a big black Barbados steward, had set up the room for me with chilled wine and hors d'oeuvres.

I wondered how Joan felt about black guys. It was usually fifty-fifty. About half these horny broads would fuck a black guy if they'd had enough to drink, especially if you promised them another night of not having to sit alone in the bar.

Sometimes you'd find a very horny gal who liked black guys and was really eager to do it. That thought turned me on. I liked to watch black on white – maybe Joan would do it. And Roger was hung like a stallion. I'd seen his work with these old gals before.

I slipped the card in the door and heard it click. I opened the door and following her in I took her gently in my arms and whispered in her ear.

"Any last minute requests?" I asked.

She looked up at me with a sexy grin.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Don't be gentle!"

Roger had done his job well. The lights were low and soft music was playing. There was an ice bucket with an excellent white wine and a plate of selected hors d'oeuvres. I poured two glasses of wine and opened the veranda door. The veranda was very private. This was an expensive suite.

Joan and I walked out to the railing and drank a toast in the moonlight. We kissed and Joan rubbed her belly against my erection. This bitch is really horny, I thought.

Joan looked up at me and said, "I appreciate all the romance and the music and the wine but I'm really horny, so why don't you just get on with it Lars?"

"Does that mean you've got something to show me, Joan?"

Joan moved back into the suite and began a slow dance to the soft music. As she opened the top of her dress it was obvious that she was dressed to strip. She had done this before – probably with this very dress.

Her expensive dress rustled slowly down her body and into a soft silk puddle at her feet. She stepped out of it and continued to dance. There was no slip. She had a white bra and bikini panty set, with a black garter belt and hose.

The lighting was perfect and her movements were well rehearsed to show off a striking figure with about thirty extra pounds exactly where I liked them. This was one of the sexiest fifty-five year olds I had ever seen, graceful as a professional dancer in her extra high spike heels.

I could see her nipples and beaver through her white bra and panties. She had really great legs – her best feature.

Her panties came off next, showing me the kind of thick, black, curly-haired beaver that looked good enough to eat. I planned to eat that thing shortly. The hair on her beaver grew up to a point on her belly and about an inch down each inner thigh. I liked 'em hairy just like this! I could see the tip of an oversized clit.

She left her bra on and danced shaking her tits. Her hose and garter belt made her look more naked than naked. My eyes just froze on that hairy beaver. Damn it was beautiful.

I realized she had left her bra on because she was worried that her tits would sag and flop around when she removed it. To spare her this embarrassment, I moved around behind her and unhooked her bra, reaching around to play with those huge tits as her bra fell to the floor.

I eased her down on the thick carpet and continued to play with her tits as they jiggled around on her chest like two big water filled balloons. I think she was grateful that I didn't make her dance around with her tits sagging and her nipples pointing at the floor. I moved one hand down and grabbed a handful of soft fat that was pooching out on her stomach between her belly button and her beaver.

Then I moved my hand down further and felt a rock hard clit, throbbing above a wet and dripping pussy with huge inner lips hanging down. She had a big, gaping, well-used pussy and she was ready to fuck. She'd been ready to fuck for two days – if fact she'd been ready to fuck for three months!

Why not drive her over the cliff, I asked myself and I moved down and began to tickle that hard clit with my tongue. She started to moan and hump and when she was fully aroused I raised up.

"Spread 'em bitch. I'm ready to fuck!"

She spread her knees wide, and lifted her spike heel clad feet up in the air where they bounced as she moved. I crawled into the saddle and my erection slipped into her easily. She had a big, loose, experienced pussy – just what I expected.

I pumped her a few times to lubricate my dick with her copious secretions, then, wrapping my arms around her I rolled her over roughly into the cowboy position. My cock never left her pussy.

"Do me cowboy you horny bitch," I said. "I want to watch you sweat!"

She started to hump like a whore. Juice was dripping out of that big pussy and I could feel it running down on my balls.

Cowboy was the position where her tits really looked good. They were hanging down right over my face, her big nipples hard as rocks. Those big beauties jiggled as she fucked and I could play with her tits or move my hands around and feel her ass or grab those big hips and help her pump.

She was working hard now – pounding away – and I could hear the wet squishy sounds her dripping cunt made as she fucked. My hands were roving freely as I laid back and relaxed and watched her start to sweat. That was my thing! I loved to watch a horny bitch sweat!

I looked at her face. Her eyes were closed and her face showed the strain of her pumping for her orgasm. I wasn't gonna help her – the bitch could do all the work. She had said she hadn't been fucked in three months so I knew she was really enjoying this. Pumping her hips made those big tits bounce and jiggle.

She was riding my whole dick now and rubbing that oversized hard clit against my pubis with each stroke. I figured it was not gonna take long for this horny bitch to pop one off. This was one very experienced bitch – she was working to bring me off but she was pleasing herself at the same time. She'd obviously done a lot of serious fucking.

I reached up and grabbed those lovely handholds on her hips – my two hands filled with soft, warm fat – and guided her as she fucked me. When I pulled her down hard and lifted my hips up roughly I could feel the head of my dick reach all the way up into that pussy and bottom out.

She was grunting like a pig now, as she fucked. She was working hard and as with so many broads before, I enjoyed looking up and watching the horny bitch fuck. Her nipples were erect and sweat was running down her big flopping breasts and dripping off on to my chest.

Her eyes were clinched tight and she was working hard for her orgasm. She no longer tried to hold her stomach in and the fat pooched out and jiggled like jelly as she fucked.

Suddenly, she lifted her head up, closed her eyes tight, opened her mouth wide, and began to pant hard. Her pumping ass pounded me harder and faster and then she took a deep breath, held it as her face contorted in pleasure, and then I felt her pussy start to contract.

She had a big loose pussy but with her orgasm I felt very strong muscles grab my dick and it squeeze hard – again and again and again. This bitch had obviously done a lot of fuckin. It was a very long orgasm, but finally she collapsed on my chest, exhausted and panting.

She'd had her fun – now it was my turn – but no rest for her. I grabbed her roughly, remembering her request not to be gentle, and rolled her over on her back. My dick never left that dripping pussy.

"Roll over bitch. I'm not finished with you yet," I said harshly.

I grabbed her legs and lifted her knees up to her shoulders and put my chest against her legs to allow me to pump that pussy deep. I grabbed her ass in my two hands and held it high in the air so I could feel myself bottom out with each hard thrust. I pounded her furiously and rapidly. She grunted with each thrust.

In less than a minute I felt my juices start to rise and then I pumped a heavy load in six or seven big squirts deep into that squishy pussy. When I finished I collapsed on her body, spreading her legs wide on the floor as I did. We lay there panting and sweating.

I felt her hands grab my head and heard her whisper in my ear, "Thank you baby. Thank you! Oh God! That was good! I been waiting three months to feel that pussy of mine grab on to a big hard cock and squeeze it. Thank you."

All these old broads were like this, I thought. They are always so grateful. This pussy was gonna be my private property for the next two nights, till we docked in Miami.

I rolled off her sweating body and we both rested on the floor laying on our backs and breathing heavily. Finally, rested, I got up and pulled her to her feet.

She still had on her spikes and hose and garter belt, but she no longer tried to hold her stomach in or her shoulders back. Her belly pooched out and her tits sagged down low, nipples aimed at the floor. She was a heavy bitch, but she was relaxed now that she had been properly fucked.

I led her out on the veranda and to the railing where we looked out at the waves. I took her into my arms, gently, and kissed her softly, cupping her butt in my hands.

"That was damn good pussy," I whispered in her ear.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she said. "There's as much pussy left as you want till we dock in Miami. That's the first fuck I've had in three months and you remembered what I asked you - you weren't gentle. You treated me like a whore and that's what I need to cum fast."

I said nothing. I heard a soft knock on the cabin door – three knocks, a pause, and then two more. It had to be Roger with more wine. I walked back into the cabin.

"Come in," I said.

The door opened and Roger entered with an ice bucket containing an opened bottle of white wine. He placed the new bucket on the table and picked up the old one.

"Joan," I said, turning back to the veranda door and extending my hand. "Come and meet Roger. He set up the room for us."

I had no idea how Joan would react to Roger, but to my pleasant surprise she walked into the room, naked and smiling.

"Good to meet you Roger," she said. "Thank you for setting up the room."

The lights were low, but Roger could see everything she had. She stood there proudly naked, once again holding her stomach in and her shoulders back to minimize the sag of her tits. When she held her shoulders back those big nipples didn't point at the floor.

She posed sensually to show off her shapely legs and smiled at Roger. Her spike heels made her look thinner and my eyes were drawn to that thick hairy beaver. Her oversized clit was easily visible.

Roger smiled back at her and his eyes went slowly from tits to beaver to legs and ankles and then back to beaver and tits again. Then he did it a second time. Finally he looked up at her face.

"And good to see you too," he said.

Roger was a tall, muscular, thirty year old black man who was obviously enjoying the sight of this naked white woman. Clearly, he'd seen naked white women before. And, clearly, he'd fucked a lot of them. You could almost see him evaluating Joan as a future piece of ass.