Patti Finally Sated

ONE

Just before three and yawning, Paul Stilton dropped into the corner restaurant nor far from his office for late lunch. The place was empty, apart from four bored waitresses.

Three grabbed menus. The heavy-shoulder Italian-looking 40-year-old powered through the other two like a military tank to reach Paul's table no longer challenged.

As the tip-seeking (tip used in the sense of gratuity) woman approached, Paul imagined she'd have a fleshy hair-festooned vulva the size of a dinner plate and suddenly didn't feel hungry. He ordered vodka on the rocks and a bowl of nuts. Scowling, the waitress went off to the bar with his order.

Popping nuts into his mouth Paul watched the tall, sallow-face waitress open a low cupboard and begin placing newly laundered napkins on shelves. As she bent over he spotted a tear on the upper leg of her pantyhose and a ladder on the other. His opinion: passed use-by date.

The third waitress was gum-chewing and had 'butch' written all over her figuratively speaking, so figuratively he despatched her to the trashcan.

Hey man, you should have gone to one of your regular restaurants, he chided himself, only then remembering to look for the fourth waitress. He'd spotted four when entering.

The fourth waitress had backed into the corner of the bar and was exhibiting the trait of a super-bored person: she was drumming her fingers and looking into space three feet ahead of her. People who do that are undeniably locked in their cage.

Paul wasn't particularly attracted to waitresses but knew that the guy below his belt was – either it was the smell of chilli or more likely being all day on their feet exercised their cuntal muscles rather like something the training a pianist has when waggling fingers back and forth to encourage flexibility.

Paul grinned, thinking perhaps the perfect woman for him would be a part-time waitress who played the piano professionally. That happy thought made him feel better so he decided to order lunch, but would water the dog first.

Coming back from the restroom he walked over to the fourth waitress and said, "Come and tell me about the specials please."

Paul hurried back to his table before she had time to tell 'Sir' that today's luncheon specials were listed on the board above the bar, chalked in very large writing.

As the fourth waitress came towards him he wondered if he'd hear 'zip,zip' (that's the sound stockings make on thighs when some women walk – Paul hoped she wore stockings and had the ability to zip-zip). He imaged that with a narrow waist like that she'd have a cunt almost too small for him. Emphasis on almost.

Incredibly, Paul's fertile imagination was rewarded: as she came up to stand alongside him and turned to face the special board, Paul heard a series of zip-zips. His cock trembled and sent out an SOS for emergency pumping of blood.

"Sorry, sir. We had a rush at lunchtime today. The English steak and kidney pie is off, the Hungarian goulash is off and the Argentinean black pudding is off, but we are still serving the Australian crocodile steaks as no-one fancied them."

"I'll have a croc steak, er...?"

"Patti, Sir."

"Thanks, Patti. Just with a salad will do."

Paul watch her tight little ass sway as she walked from him and wondered if anyone had been lucky enough to paddle or even pat Patti's cheeks.

It seemed just only seconds later but it was probably fifteen minutes later just as Paul was spreading Patti's very firm cheeks apart to insert his tongue when he heard her say, "Sir, your lunch."

Paul realised he'd dropped off to sleep. His boner was jammed against the table and felt so hard he wondered if his side of the table had risen. He cringed at the thought of Patti pushing the table down flat, so pulled back on his chair to ease both the pressure and the possible threat of table slamming.

"Wrong order, this is chicken," Paul said rudely.

"Crocodile is white and looks not unlike chicken breast."

That reminded Paul to inspect her breasts. Blast, the poor girl had none, or if she did they were thirty-twos.

"Will I like it?" Paul asked, looking at her apologetically but without offering an apology.

"If you like breast, I think you will, Sir."

"If I like breast?"

Paul said that softly, attempting to smile with a slight leer but knew he'd over-cooked it; the facial expression was a massive leer.

"You know what I mean, chicken breast," she whispered pinkly.

"You're cute."

"Why are you flirting with me like this. Men usually hover around the other waitresses."

Paul said he'd never flirt with them.

"Why, they are all nice."

"Well, see the tough looking one?"

"Yes, Maria – smaller men are always attracted to her."

"Her private parts will be the size of a dinner plate."

Patti thrust her handed over her mouth and snorted, tears coming to her eyes.

"And Sara, the tall thin one?"

"She has a bladder infection; she'd been pulling her panty hose up and down so often she's worn holes through it."

Grinning, Patti said she guessed Paul thought Georgia was a lesbian.

As he nodded, she asked, "And what was your assessment of me?"

Paul took the risk, and told the truth: "I thought I might be too big for you."

Patti blushed. "Too old, rather I fancy. May I ask how old?"

"Forty-eight. And you?

"Eighteen."

"I'm financial controller for Hazel-Briggins a hundred yards up the avenue from here. And you are at university studying music and your instrument is the piano."

Patti gapped at him.

"How did you know that? Are you a stalker?"

"No, it's my lucky day at flirting and making intelligent guesses.

"Since I've been talking to you I've noticed you have your long hair back, not just tied back in a band but dressed back elaborately, a style popular with musicians.

"Yes, it's the classic French twist. But that is insufficient to bring you to your conclusion. This sounds rather suspicious, are you a stalker?"

"I noticed, too, your fingers are incredible clean, long and without decoration and you periodically flex them and I then realised what I thought was you boredly drumming on the bar, you were practising scales. You look too young to be a professional musician, though doubtless that could be argued, so I simply assumed you were at the School of Music."

"Well done, Mr er...

"Stilton, but call me Paul."

"Well done, Paul. Very intelligent and surprisingly accurate. How then can you justify your assumption that you might be too big for me?"

"I'd like the opportunity to test my theory."

"Eat your lunch, I'll think about it."

Paul studied the small ass as it moved away from him and concluded: Well, too big for there for you, my son, patting his bulge affectionately.

Standing under the 'Pay Here' sign, Paul handed the waitress with waterworks problems the money, wishing Patti had been operating the till. He brightened, however, when seeing her waiting for him at the door. She spoke to him loudly.

"I hope you enjoyed your meal sir, and that we shall see you again and again."

Paul nodded and whispered that he worked until six-thirty and would meet her then in Malouf's Bookshop just up the avenue. He'd wait thirty minutes and if she'd not arrived in that time he'd go home to his empty apartment as his wife was out of town.

Paddi gave neither a yes nor a no. She just smiled and loudly wished him a safe journey back to his office.

TWO

Three minutes after arriving in the bookshop Paul saw Patti entered. He hurried over and kissed her. She was surprised at that, not closing her eyes: he knew that because he peeped.

"Come," he said, taking her arm.

"Where?"

"I've booked a room."

"We must talk first, there's a coffee house up ahead. I'm nervous."

"I'd be disappointed if you weren't nervous, a young women like you. But no, we're going to the hotel. Procrastination will not help you settle, I'll have to do that.

"I'll feel nervous standing as you sign in. I don't do this sort of thing."

"Well you do now, at least tonight. We go straight to the room where coffee and light food is waiting for us. Here's the key, you can go up alone if you're embarrassed at being seen with an elderly man."

Patti's grip on Paul's arm tightened, providing the answer he needed.

It was a beautiful room, entirely appropriate for an assignation.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Yes, I'm supposed to be out with him now."

"Good," was all that he said, leaving her looking puzzled.

"You shower first, take coffee and food in with you."

"No, I showered at the restaurant. Are you going to undress me?"

"After my shower."

"I don't want you to leave me."

Paul looked at the bathroom door and then to his pink-faced lover-to-be. It wasn't a difficult choice.

"Lift up you arms, dear," he said, and pulled off her sweater. She was without a bra, not really requiring one, her breasts were so small. Small, but well defined in shape and lovely erect and quite large nipples. He licked his lips.

"I saw that," she giggled. "Here, take one."

She pushed out her chest and Paul took a nipple and a large part of her breast into his mouth. His half-mast cock immediately converted itself into full erection.

As he sucked and pushed a finger into her mouth to suck, he felt her hands on her side and then her skirt falling away. He dropped his hands down on to her butt, pushing down her knickers a bit to allow her to hook her knickers down with her foot if she were that smart. She was.

Standing back from her, Paul removed his jacket, tie and shirt. She licked his right nipple and nibbled it. Then she said, "Allow me, and began unbuckling his belt."

"It is large."

"Are you comfortable with it?"

"Who knows, she shrugged. I'm here simply for experience. To date my love life has been very unsatisfactory, although at university I am perhaps one of the most fucked girls in my class. But something always seems lacking, and I feel that I require an older man to make love to me, and you're the lucky bloke, although you've pushed me into the decision, I must say.

"Be gentle with me – pretend it's the first time for me."

Paul said he'd intended to proceed like that and pushed her back on to the bed.

"First, I must tickle your cunt with my tongue, and if you get into the spirit of things that will help prepare you for my dick. It's big, but you'll get much bigger ones than mine in the years ahead of you."

Paul slid his tongue into her sweet-smelling clit, concentrating on being not too eager. It was sweet-smelling compared with most, including his wife's and her sister's for starters.

Of course he could detect faint odours of urine and perspiration beneath the overlaying smell of musk, but it still gave a global impression of being fresh and not suggestive of being subjected to excessive cock pounding.

Paul licked with his eyes closed because there were only white thighs to see; closed eyes allowed a collection of his senses to variously rush and wander through his body. Patti pulled one of his hands on to her breast and while his first forefinger circled her nipple she sucked his raised thumb like a child, making his cock judder, although staying dry.

"Oh, oh," was all she said and not even heaving her body. Sweet nectar (Paul had often read that term and this was the first time he'd come close to experiencing such a taste), came into his mouth as a gentle flow.

Two fingers slipped in and began dancing. Paul's tongue worked solidly on the clit. Patti's body began writhing until she screamed "Y-e-e-e-e-e-s! and released an impressive little gusher.

Paul felt that her hands would now be full of his ripped out hair, but a quick check proved this was his fear of accelerated baldness at work. He patted her thigh affectionately and she moaned and moaned to him, burbling that he'd been so lovely to her.

The sipped coffee and water, then Patti fell on to her back, her eyes bright and almost glazed as she waited for the big moment.

She yelped as Paul roughly and intentionally dug three fingers into her cunt, brought them out dripping and lathered his cock.

Paul crawled up between her legs, pushing them out with his hands. Her flexibility astounded him, adding a little more stiffness he thought.

As he began pushing his cock in, Patti pulled down his head and began tonguing him. Paul reciprocated knowing that he was taking a big risk because if his cock jammed and hurt her she might involuntary bite his tongue. If he went home carrying part of his tongue in his hand, he'd have to be very inventive with his explanation when Alicia found out!

But both were worrying needlessly.

"I've opened wider than ever before to receive you," marvelled Patti.

"Isn't that what cunts are supposed to do?"

Patti shrieked with laughter than beat his chest with her fists, calling him "My beloved dirty old man."

Paul liked that. She was not simply taking him for granted to snatch experience from an older man. Rather, she was attempting to conjoin for a mutually satisfying experience and was coating his mind with endearments. What a lovely girl, and what a great little fuck. It was true, isn't it, he pondered; women with big tits have big boxes?

Well, not entirely. Alicia's sister was definitely one exception.

Paul began building up a rhythm from the time he gained three-quarters' entry without undue problems, realising that his cock would find it ultimate length now unaided, and that it did.

Patti had one of his hands in hers, groaning, "This is heaven, this is heaven" which made Paul feeling a little redundant at that moment so began thinking about Alicia and Joan's younger sister Karen who was coming to stay in a month's time. Perhaps there would be an opportunity on Alicia's bridge night...

"Oh Christ, you're growing thicker," cried Patti reaching down and squeezing his balls. Paul bent down and bit her left nipple and she screamed herself in a great orgasm. Her grip on his balls tightened, they tighten and seconds later his cock began spewing a really energy-draining ejaculation.

He grunted, then manufactured a couple of high-pitched screams to let Patti know he was right behind her – and into her as well.

They lay there, catching their breath. Patti said, "When you sit back up pull me up so I can watch you withdraw. There's all of your cum as well as mine – it's going to ooze out in volumes I've never seen before. I have guys finger my ass but they still didn't get me off this big."

Sitting and watching cum ooze out of a pussy was a rather nice climax to an early evening fuck, grinned Paul.

"What are you grinning about?"

So Paul told her and she asked him to start pounding her again.

"Hey, what's the race," he asked. "Phone home at tell your mother you are staying over at a girl friend's place. I've got some time owing at the office so have taken this room till midday tomorrow. There's a big bath in there – I want to doggy fuck you over the head-rest; it's custom made for the job."

"Right. I'll love that. We can fuck all night then?"

"Within reason – I'm an elderly man, remember?"

"I'll help you maintain interest." She phoned and explained without emotion that she would be away all night.

"Come on, Mr Biggie," she said, towing him by the cock to the bathroom.

"Your mother didn't worry?"

"My mother?

"Oh, that was Tim, one of my lecturers. I shifted in with him five months ago. He shouldn't mind, as he's going to benefit from what I will have learnt by midday tomorrow."

Paddi brought fresh cups of coffee into the bathroom.

"Paul – how long is your dick?"

"Just over seven and a half."

"Do you think it will fit into my ass?"

"Who knows, darling? But by noon tomorrow we will."