A Week with Diane

I was never going to last very long -- perhaps I should have had that wank! -- but then Diane lifter her free hand, with the fingers that had been inside me, and raised it to her nose, inhaling deeply.

'Mm, I can smell you...' I felt my climax build. Then she did it, slowly and deliberately, licking the length of her index finger, lingering the tip of her tongue on her lacquered nail then sucking it into her mouth. 'And I can taste you.'

That was way too much for me and I came suddenly; it felt like falling off a cliff. I cried out in ecstasy, slowing my pistoning cock to make it last longer, feeling the jets of hot spunk splash into Diane's anus. I wailed as the sensations faded then stopped and I collapsed over her inert body and lay there just gasping, like a beached fish.

Afterwards we showered together and went down to eat dinner. I was emotionally exhausted and I think Diane was pretty spent, too. We were very affectionate towards each other during the evening -- touching and kissing and holding each other -- and when we went to bed we made love again. Conventional love. And we took it slowly, considerately, and there was a lot of muted gasping and little cries of pleasure and we both came at about the same moment, Diane's nails digging into my back, but only lightly. The first lot of scratches had barely healed.

Sunday

We didn't wake up until nearly ten the next morning. By the time Diane had brought us coffee in bed it was nearer to eleven and time for me to be thinking about my final goodbyes and going back to the rented house to hand the keys over to the estate agent. But Diane had other ideas.

Snuggling up to me she found my limp penis under the duvet and started to stroke it to life. 'It's such a shame we didn't meet sooner,' she said, 'think of all the things we could have explored if we'd had that extra couple of weeks.'

My cock was growing, engorging, and I felt Diane's thumb and forefinger encircle the shaft and start to gently masturbate me. 'Like what?' I gasped.

'Well,' she said, softly, 'you've seen those things I've got in the drawer...' I nodded, dumbly, my cock now rigid, clear fluid leaking from the tip and lubricating my glans as she slid the foreskin over it. 'Let me tell you a little story. It's about a man called Jack. That's not his real name but it doesn't matter. Jack and I had a sexual relationship a few years after my husband died; he was my first lover as a widow.' She smiled at the memory and continued stroking me. 'Now Jack was younger than me. He was in his thirties. A bit older than you, I'm guessing. Much younger than me, anyway. I'll be seventy next Wednesday, in case you were wondering. And we had a relationship that lasted quite a long time and I was able to find out all sorts of things that Jack liked. And he was rather a naughty young man; for instance, he liked me putting my fingers in his bottom while I sucked him off, like you do. And so I bought that strap-on dildo and we discovered that Jack really liked me fucking him with it. And he especially liked me fucking him when he was tied by his ankles and wrists to the bedstead. That's why I bought that restraint system. But the icing on the cake, for Jack, was when I tied him to the bed and fucked him while he was wearing some of my underwear.' I closed my eyes, my heart racing, and felt Diane grip my shaft more firmly. 'Yes, he liked wearing my panties and my stockings and suspender belts. I quite liked it too. I'd run my hands over his stockings while I pushed in and out and sometimes I'd think about what it would be like to go to bed with another woman. And after I'd fucked him he was so big and hard and he gave me such lovely orgasms -- oh look, you've made a mess in the bed.' She reached for a box of tissues.

We said our goodbyes in the conservatory. It was a bit awkward. I wished her a happy birthday for Wednesday and said how much I'd enjoyed meeting her, but it sounded a bit formal so she just kissed me hard and quick and gently propelled me through the door, closing it behind her and disappearing into the kitchen. The door in the garden wall closed behind me with an air of finality and I made my way back to the rented house in a state of faint melancholy.

The estate agent was late and I had plenty of time to think about stuff while I waited, my bags already in the car. Diane -- I didn't even know her second name -- was a sensationally sexy lady, age notwithstanding; I felt as though I was only now beginning to realise the extended boundaries of her eroticism. Now when it was too late! I'd never considered being pegged. Or being tied to the bed. Or wearing stockings and suspenders for that matter. What would it feel like, I wondered? Did the idea excite me? I hardly dared admit it to myself but the evidence was clear: I was rock hard again and I couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said as she masturbated me. He soft voice hypnotic in my ear.

Why not, I concluded. It was only fifty miles from Worcester to here. I could do it in an hour on a Friday evening. And besides, I'd never fucked a seventy-year-old before. I reached for my phone, conscious of my erection pushing against my trousers.

Dear Diane,

I don't want this morning to be our last goodbye. I want to see you again, if I may. Are you free next weekend? I could easily drive down on Friday evening, or Saturday morning.

S xxxx

The reply came a minute later, at the same time as the doorbell rang, announcing the belated arrival of the estate agent. I looked at the screen.

The young lady standing on the doorstep looked a bit bemused as I opened the door. Perhaps she was wondering why I was wearing such a big stupid grin on my face.

The End