Sarah

SBmomof2: ur not helping

NosyDon51: wanna go parking in ur van

SBmomof2: embarrassed to say what i want to do

NosyDon51: what

A pop-up appeared. "SBmomof2 wants to open video chat window. Click to accept."

I clicked, and after a moment, Sarah appeared on my screen. "Don't talk loud. I don't know how high I have to turn the volume.

"Okay," I whispered. "How's that?"

"You can talk. Just keep it down."

"Like this?" I asked in a tone I would have used if she were on the next pillow.

"Just like that," she said. "That's nice."

"Is everyone else asleep?"

"Oh heavens, yes," Sarah answered. "I'm in my half of the home office, on the other side of the house from our bedroom, and I can still hear Tim snoring.

"We can video-chat from work, you know. In fact, that's probably a pretty good idea for when I want to consult with you about something or if I can offer you any business."

Even in the dim lighting in Sarah's study, I could see her pretty face blush. "I wasn't exactly thinking of video-conferencing with you, silly."

"What were you thinking of?" I asked.

As she opened her robe, she said, "Pull your pants down, Don." Conservative Mrs. Blevins put on quite a show for me that night, and she saw how much I appreciated it.

We decided to go to see Owens one last time before I left on Friday, to make sure we hadn't missed anything. He was his usual overly-cheery self when we got there, but came storming into the conference room just before lunch.

"What the hell are you people doing?" he bellowed. "You talked to my neighbor?"

Sarah calmly got up from her chair, walked over to him, and got in his face. "Not only did we talk to your neighbor, you miserable scum, we visited that illegal back-alley abortion clinic you help to finance, and met the parents of your little playmate. Well, let me tell you, sleazy Mr. Bill Owens, for your sake, you'd better hope you can still afford to make all those payments when your wife's attorney is done with you. I don't know how you see the money you're spending, but those people see it as hush money."

I stood up too, gathering my belongings, since it was time to leave. "I'm no lawyer, but I imagine you could have some liability for any injuries caused by the quacks in that clinic. You might want to think about what your criminal culpability is there. Oh, and I assume you know that the statute of limitations on what you did to that little girl is twelve years in this state, and they don't start counting until the victim turns eighteen. By that time, the son you fathered would be sixteen years old – big enough to give you the ass-kicking you deserve."

"Get out!" Owens yelled. "Get out now! I will not stand for this invasion of my privacy! You have no damn right to treat me this way!"

Sarah packed up her materials. "We have every damn right to treat you this way, Mr. Owens. Every damn right in the world. But don't worry. We're leaving. I'm feeling a little ill just being around you!"

In the car on the way back to my hotel, Sarah asked, "When do you have to catch your plane?"

"I should be at the airport by six."

"Six, huh? You didn't check out of your hotel, did you?"

"Not yet. I wanted to be able to go back and change into more casual clothes before I had to leave."

"So you'll be naked at some point?" she asked.

"Maybe."

"I'm going to call Tim and tell him I'll be getting home a little late."

In my room, it was very much like out first time. We undressed each other again, taking our time, making it last. When we were finally nude, we got in bed. Sarah lay on top of me, kissing me as I fondled her wonderful ass.

"How many times can you cum before you have to leave for the airport?" she asked.

"Baby, I'm not a young man. I don't know. Twice if I'm lucky," I answered.

She rolled off me, turned around, and positioned her wet sex over my face. Just before she took me in her mouth, she said, "I hope you're feeling lucky."

This time, when she knew she was about to cum, she pulled out of my reach. "Not yet. You're not gonna make me cum yet. When that happens, I forget about what I was trying to do for you." She knelt at my side and kissed me, hard, and passionately. "Don't move." She kissed all over my face, rubbing her one nipple against mine while teasing the underside my shaft with just the pad of her index finger.

"What are you doing?" I gasped.

"I never saw a man cum before last night. Now I want to see it in person, so just lie there and enjoy."

She kept stroking me with the single finger, occasionally leaning over and licking up the pre-cum I was leaking.

I reached for her hip, hoping she would move so I could reach her. Instead, she moved away.

"Nope," she said. "Not this time. This time, you're gonna cum for me."

The build-up was maddeningly slow. This wasn't a hand-job. It was a finger-job, and a single finger at that. Over and over she stroked, the tiniest bit of her skin against mine. When she concentrated her feather-light touch on the patch of nerves just below my piss-slit, I leaked pre-cum, a dribble of it lubricating her finger. She would only interrupt her slow stroking to lick me – a quick spreading of my fluid.

I was shuddering by now. Hands had played with me many times (hands other than my own), but I had never felt anything quite like this. Leave it to meticulous Sarah to do this to me this way. "I'm gonna cum soon, baby," I said.

"From this?" she smirked, her baby blue eyes sparkling as her finger continued it's slow, deliberate rhythm, "or this?" She bent down and took a quick lick along the underside of my shaft, from the base to the head, circling the crown once before pulling back and resuming her stroking.

"Everything. You," I moaned.

"Is it going to be a lot?" she teased, still tickling that little triangle of ecstasy.

"Yeah," I groaned, as the first spurt arced into the air. Stream after stream rocketed out of me, volume and height like I hadn't seen in decades. When I was done, I realized that Sarah was still stroking me with just that single, now messy, fingertip.

"Wow!" she laughed. "That was impressive!" She licked her finger. "I still can't believe we're doing this!"

My shrinking cock leaked one more small drop. She leaned down and licked it off, and then very methodically cleaned my entire manhood and belly of my spilled cum.

When she was done, she sat back on her heels, smiled at me, and blushed visibly. "What have you done to me, Don?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Here I was, the conservative housewife/career woman, about as virginal as an almost middle-aged mother of two could be, and now I'm some kind of cum-slut!" she giggled.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"For what?" she asked, lying down next to me. "For showing me a new side to myself? I've always wondered what good sex was, since I knew I wasn't having it. Now I know. I'd love to do it all the time. It's just like when I tried water-skiing."

"Water-skiing?" I laughed.

"Stop it," she said, sitting up in bed. She had her hands on her hips, which put her proud breasts on display. There was a serious expression on her mouth, but her baby blue eyes were twinkling. "I'm trying to make a point. It was a dangerous new thrill, something I'd never done before, and something I wanted to do again. Plus, it made me all wet."

"Ah. Speaking of making you wet," I said as I pulled her on top of me and moved her to sit on my face.

"I'll play with myself after you're gone, thinking about what you do down there," she moaned.

"I think I like this as much as you do, baby," I said.

We rested for a while after that, cuddling, the way she had learned to love to do. Our pillow talk brought us to the "seminar" I had mentioned.

"How much notice do you need to get time off from work?" Sarah asked.

"My boss, Marian, wants two weeks minimum, but often, it's more like three, depending on my case load."

"Could we start the seminar four weeks from today?" she asked. "I had been talking to Tim about taking my 'hunter's widow' reward weekend soon."

"I'll confirm your enrollment on Monday when I've had a chance to look at the due dates on the stuff that's probably on my desk."

She snuggled against me. "What time is it?"

"Almost three. I have to be out of here in about two hours."

"Should give us enough time," she said, moving to straddle me so that her pussy lips were against my soft cock.

As she ground against me, she asked, "What will we do at the cabin? Besides make love, I mean."

"Well, we can go walking in the woods, toast marshmallows in the fire pit outside, and go swimming in the lake. It's very clean, and by that time of year it will be nice and warm."

"I guess I should get a new swimsuit," she said.

"Why? I don't even own one. It's my lake. I own the land around it. No one goes there."

"Skinny dipping?" Sarah laughed. "I've never done that."

"The new Sarah is ready for skinny dipping," I said.

"The new Sarah is ready for one last session before you have to leave, Don."

As it turned out, I was ready, too. I was tired – I had worked hard this week, and had enjoyed a lot of sex for a man my age. But Sarah brought out the best in me. We started out slow this time, but we didn't end that way.

We didn't say much while we were getting dressed, or even as we walked to our cars after I checked out of the hotel. I loaded the Mercedes in silence, and then we embraced one last time.

Just before she got in her minivan to drive home, she said, "This may have been the best week I've had in a long while."

"We'll have the best weekend ever, next month," I said, leaning in her window to kiss her farewell.

At the rental car return desk, the fake-cheery young lady asked, "Did you enjoy your stay, sir?"

"It was very good, thank you."

"Was it business or pleasure?" she chirped.

The girl gave me a strange look when I chuckled and said, "Both."