Jayne's World Pt. 12

Some words from Jayne.

I can hardly believe that the last time I published anything about Jayne's World, Part 11, was in December last year, sorry about that.

I have so much to tell about what happened to me in my twenties. How I had an older lover well, being absolutely honest two at the same time and a few younger as well. Also, how I drifted into the murky world of glamour and erotic photographic modelling and even darker areas of the sex trade that helped me financially survive the credit crunch and the ramifications of that.

I have purposefully written this in a grammatical style utilising first and third persons that some may dislike. However, I feel it more easily facilitates telling the story from both his and my viewpoints. I'd appreciate any comments on this unconventional approach.

Although I believe that this and the subsequent parts work as standalone stories for continuity, I recommend reading from Part 1. But whichever way you choose, I hope you enjoy my twenties life story and please feel free to leave any comments.

Thanks, and enjoy me,

Jayne.

Her.

I had forgotten just what it was like to have sex with a young guy. Since I had sidled into the second half of my twenties, the youngest guy I had been with was in his mid-thirties and James, my older lover for the last eighteen months or so, was well into his fifties, though he and I rarely discussed age. But somehow, as the party had wound down and the drunks snored and the druggies giggled, I ended up with Damien, a twenty-year-old professional footballer. Not the brightest spark nor the most eloquent conversationalist he was, though beautiful to look at when dressed and even more so naked, as we both were some half-hour later in his hotel room in Shoreditch.

As James had been travelling through south east Asia and Australia for the past six weeks, I was rather sex starved. I hadn't, therefore, taken much persuading to dance with Damien nor to let him snog me in a corner of the main party room. As the party dragged on and I had a few more vodkas so I became even easier to persuade into a little bedroom tucked away at the top of the four or five storey Victorian town house in Hoxton. Largely because the door didn't have a lock and I felt it was overly sordid to prop a chair against it to keep it shut, I resisted his attempts to shag me or, indeed, to undress me. So, the poor lamb was restricted to feeling my tits and to pleasuring me by slipping his hand up my skirt and making me cum with his finger. I offered rather half-heartedly to give him a hand job, but I think he realised the awkwardness of that and suggested we go to his hotel. Hence, by just after midnight I was naked in his bed with him having fucked me, after a few cursory kisses on my mouth and a couple of sucks of my nipples.

The speed with which he had undressed me, got me on my back in the bed with him on top and sliding into me, protected I was relieved to note, surprised me. However, that wasn't the biggest surprise as, unlike James my grandad of a lover, once in me he fucked me quick and hard and was cumming in no time at all. And that wasn't the biggest surprise either. I had ten years of sex experience behind me and should have remembered the young guys I'd been with in my teens. And like them, Damien didn't bother too much about what I was getting from the fuck but instead, after withdrawing from me and going for a pee, he came back to the bed almost erect again and was inside me again pretty damn quickly. This time he did make me cum but that was more due to my frustration than skill or technique on his part. It was a similar situation a few hours later when it was daylight, although I had no idea of the time, when he took me twice in quick order, again not bothering about my satisfaction either time.

As we said our goodbyes at about nine the next morning, I switched the last few digits around on the phone number I gave him.

Him.

Although we'd kept in touch on my long trip, I really had missed Jayne, so one of the first things I did after landing at Heathrow was to phone her. It was great to hear her voice and visualise the vision holding the phone and talking to me. It was only as her dulcet tones caressed my ears and stimulated other parts of my body that it registered with me that I had only had two fucks in over two months. I hadn't managed to see Jayne for a couple of weeks before leaving so as I set out on the trip, it was either get lucky or pay for it, so I did both.

I paid for a bath and a massage with a happy ending in Bangkok and got really lucky in Melbourne. An ex-member of my team, Marie, was divorced and living there. We had come close a few times to having sex in London when we worked together, and I remembered that she had moved to Australia to be with her son and his children, so I had emailed her, and we'd arranged to meet. I wasn't really expecting anything, but one can always hope and if you don't try you most certainly don't get to fuck, do you? Seeing her again after almost five years brought home to me how people, and women in particular, show their age as they rush far too quickly through their fifties; she was five years older than me, so was just over 60!

I hadn't ever had sex with a woman as old as her and quite frankly, although I needed it, I was disappointed. That was largely due to Jayne having been my only sex partner for eighteen months or so, and me getting used to the tautness of her body, smoothness of her skin and the tightness of her vagina. All bodily features that Marie didn't possess. That said, she was an enthusiastic lover and if I think like a male chauvinist pig, she provided a real port in my storm of sexual starvation.

As did, of course, the happy ending in Bangkok. Although I have paid for it a few times, usually when in London, I am not used to what happened there. I was offered six or so girls from which to choose my masseuse and the receptionist told me that today they had a special offer as they were training a few new girls, so all those who booked the top service, as they traded me up to, would get a trainee as well as the one they chose. As both were young and with the beauty and sexiness that Thai women are famed for, I was delighted, as I was with the service.

It started with me bathing in a deep, crescent shaped bath in which they joined me, naked of course. They soaped me all over causing the inevitable erection. They dried and powdered me then massaged me making no pretence at all of it being anything other than an erotic massage. It was quite an amazing experience having two naked women giving me a sensually soft, slow massage whilst I lay there stunningly erect. The next inevitability then happened, and they made me cum, offering me two pairs of breasts on which to deposit my goo. They showered me, we drank chai and ate some fruit together, I had a snooze wrapped in a silk sheet and was woken up by being kissed all over, and then after another massage they kissed and fondled each other until I was ready. I fucked the one I'd chosen as my masseuse whilst the trainee kissed her and caressed me. All in all, a well spent one hundred and fifty US dollars.

"So had a good time?" you asked in your usual chirpy and upbeat tone.

"Yes, thanks but I missed you."

"Really? Well, that's good, I suppose."

"Did you miss me?"

"Truth or a considerate lie," you quipped back, making me laugh.

We chatted away almost as if we hadn't been apart for so long, but I wasn't and couldn't ever feel sure about our relationship. After all, being almost 57 with a woman over 30 years my junior was quite some call and you were absolutely stunning to look at, had a bubbly or effervescent personality, a body to die for and were an amazing fuck. So, how lucky was I, having you!

However lucky that all made me was then surpassed by you agreeing to come up to Yorkshire the next weekend and saying, "Well actually James I am not working much, so it doesn't have to be a weekend."

"So why not come in the week, would you prefer that?"

"Not fussed really."

"Or of course, you could do both come up Thursday and stay as long as you like?"

"What about your neighbours?"

"Oh, fuck them."

"Them as well as me? Isn't that pushing it grandad?" you typically cheekily replied.

Her.

Although I think I am quite bright, I had no real idea what the credit crunch was and how it came about. I heard some faces on TV saying it was due to US banks lending money to people who couldn't pay it back, which seemed a pretty daft idea to me and put me off bankers completely. What put me off them even more was that my dad's property development business went tits up and the house I had been brought up in had to be sold. On top of that, mum and he split up and she buggered off to Spain with some bloke about my age, so I was on my own.

Now, throughout my teens I had been carefully trained as a young rich bitch. I hadn't missed out on anything; money was plentiful, and I could pretty much do and have whatever I wanted. On top of that, I was very much a daddy's girl. So, being as good as penniless, having no proper job as my freelance copywriting work dried up completely when the business world in London fell apart, and then no home, fucked me up completely. Dad tried to help me, but he had bugger all left and no income to speak of, so to all intents and purposes I was on my own.

One of dad's friends and business acquaintances, whom I had heard was a crook, a guy called Mickey Gray, helped dad and me by letting me use an apartment which was one of many that he owned in the East End of London. At the time they were impossible to rent out as he had more where the tenants were leaving than renting, so I just had to cover the utilities. I knew full well, though, that sooner or later there would be a payment required in one form or another. For several years Mickey had 'made eyes' at me and I knew full well that I would only have had to grin and accept those eyes and I would be having sex with one of the East End's biggest crooks. That came rather more quickly than I thought it would, and looking back, wasn't really that unpleasant.

Mickey was around the same age as my dad, late forties, and was very similar to him both in appearance and personality. So, when he called one afternoon to 'collect his rent' it really was quite like being fucked by my dad, something I had fantasised about many times.

After the first time, which was straightforward sex, Mickey became more ambitious and wanted both blow jobs and anal. As with most tenancy agreements payment was required on a monthly basis and Mickey was quite scrupulous with his timing, so I had to keep the last Thursday afternoon in each month free. Fortunately, he saw things in a similar way to me in that as his desires increased and I satisfied them, so that kept the rent free.

Him.

Packing my clothes and stuff away after my long trip, I came across the half dozen or so photos that Jayne had given me that first time we met, well, more to the point, when I picked her up. Looking at them I felt myself hardening. It started with the fully dressed one of her in jeans and a tee without a bra, just as she had been in the flesh on that wonderful afternoon and evening, we shared together. The next was without the jeans with her thong snuggled up to her rather prominent mound that I knew now, but didn't then, was bald. There were a couple of her wrapped in a towel with one showing a touch of pink and the other her full nipple that was as blatantly erect as I was now. Then there were two nudes, one with her lying flat on her stomach with the shot featuring her gorgeously pert ass and the other the piece de resistance, a full frontal shot of her standing facing the camera. I couldn't resist any further, so I slid out of my jeans and boxers, shrugged my shirt off and stood before the full-length mirror imagining that Jayne was with me. As I viewed my aging body, I couldn't help wondering what she saw in me, although for my age I was in pretty good shape, being slim and muscular, with a flat stomach and a full seven inches of almost rock-hard cock rearing up to my stomach. I gripped it and started to masturbate. In my mind I was fucking her, as I knew I would be soon. Although Thursday couldn't come soon enough, I certainly could, and did, onto the tiled floor of my bathroom.

As I finished and cleaned up, I had the idea. Naked I went into one of the spare bedrooms that I use as a storeroom and pulled out the Canon DSLR camera I had been given as a retirement present by the bank. I hadn't used it much as I had got divorced at about the same time, but the shots I had taken were pretty good. In my late forties as my marriage was going tits up, I had dabbled with photography, even joining a club in Leeds. The club provided lessons and organised shoots both in the studio and external ones of buildings, country scenes and various other locations. Occasionally a model would be provided in the studio and usually they would offer nude posing of a sterile and non-erotic nature.

Her.

In the end and after several more phone calls I travelled up to Leeds in Yorkshire by train on the Thursday afternoon. Although it was the best part of 200 miles it only took just over two hours and by four o'clock, I was in your arms being kissed and hugged. Despite some early rush hour traffic, it only took twenty minutes or so to get to Harewood, the charming little village where you live in what had been your family home that you'd told me you'd kept as part of your divorce settlement.

"I've been thinking about this since the last time we kissed," you whispered as we stood in the hallway of the lovely house kissing. Replying, to my surprise, completely truthfully, I said "yes grandad so have I."

As usual I was wearing jeans, white ones for a change, and a black tee shirt with a thin leather blouson over it. I had removed my bra in the loo on the train as I knew you liked that, so your hand almost immediately went to my breasts, firstly outside the tee then inside it, right on my bare tits.

"I thought so," you muttered as you realised I was braless.

"Mmmmmm that's lovely James," I sighed.

"Yes, Jayne that really is lovely," you replied, squeezing my tit and pinching my nipple at the same time, just as I had told you I liked it. It pleased and thrilled me that you always seemed to remember what I enjoyed, which was so different to most of the younger guys I'd been with over the years. The kiss went on for some time as we orally reacquainted ourselves and our tongues teased each other.

I realised that the way James kissed me was one of the now increasing things I liked about him. He was without doubt a good kisser, which was something I'd found out that first evening and is something I love in a guy. Again, so many of the 'my own ages' that I have snogged have no idea really, so I suppose it comes with experience. Unlike most of them he used his lips and tongue almost simultaneously and kissed me without always bending his head to the side, so I got a really full-on kiss which was wonderful.

Him.

Unlike the last few weeks on my travels where erections had been few and far between and had only fully reared their heads with Marie and during the massage in Bangkok, I'd been stiffening since you'd got in the car. When with you this was nothing new, as you always had that effect on me. Now, as I held you and even before I fondled your boobs, it completed its growth and reared straight up my stomach. Unlike the first couple of times I held you, when I was embarrassed at being hard, this time I was more confident and rather unashamedly I thrust it against you. That must have been the acceptable thing to do, for almost immediately I felt you writhing against it, and what a great sensation that was. That made me wonder if you would be up for a quick, or come to that, long, shag before we went out to dinner.

"Can I take it off?" I asked, pulling your tee shirt up and baring your boobs. Over the eighteen or so months of our intermittent affair I'd learned that although you were generally willing to go along with my suggestions, you liked everything to be mutual.

"Mmmmm, I thought you'd never ask," you grinned back at me, as without further ado you grabbed the hem of the loose tee shirt and yanked it up and over your head, almost dislodging your glasses. Naked above the waist you shook your hair back in place and looking right into my eyes went on with, "these what you want to see James?"

"Mmmm very much so," I muttered momentarily lost for words and what to do next as I felt transfixed by the sight of them, "God, I have missed them."

Again, demonstrating a trait that endeared you to me so much you confidently replied. "Well, you'd better say hello to them properly, hadn't you?" as you cupped both boobs, lifted them up and offered them to me. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I pulled you closer to me and buried my face between your B going on C cup boobs, although I hadn't yet had the gall to ask their size. Slurping, licking, sucking and kissing all over each lovely mound I was thrilled when I felt your hands gripping my head and pulling my face tighter against your delicious flesh. I was even more thrilled to feel you squirming against my erection and to hear the sexy moans and sighs coming from your mouth.

Her.

I knew now that we would fuck and that pleased me. It had been so long since we'd been together and I realised that when earlier I had said that during that time, I had been thinking about kissing you, I really did mean it.

As usual, you were so polite and diplomatic and, although just about taking the lead you did, as always, seek my agreement before moving from one stage of our lovemaking to the next. So, it was me that urged you to take my top off as an invitation to attend to the strong messages that my breasts and nipples were sending to my brain. But once I had extended the invitation you accepted it with a strength and purpose that almost swept me away. You made such patient and wonderful love to my breasts, not just my nipples and areola, and somehow at the same time you caressed my thighs and stomach alternately with your now very evident erection. I wanted to ask you to fuck me there and then, if you wanted. But that didn't seem right. It was your house, you were the man and really it was your play, so I waited.

As you slobbered over my breasts, your hands went around me and squeezed and fondled my ass in the tight jeans, so my wait ended as you muttered. "Come to bed Jayne, yes, ok?"

You couldn't have realised just how inviting and welcoming that was and I gushed, "yes James yes take me to bed, I want you to fuck me."

As rushed and inconsiderate, and in the end unsatisfactory, as my last fuck with Damien had been, this was completely the opposite. In the bedroom you looked at me as I unzipped my jeans and then did the same with your beige chinos before slipping your rather old fashioned short-sleeved shirt off to parade your rampantness to me in your CK boxers.

You looked good. I had no problems with your physique and the texture of your skin. I had been told by other girls that the skin of older men could be rough and wrinkly, but yours was as smooth and lustrous as any of the younger guys whose backs had welcomed my hands.

I pushed my jeans down and flaunted my near nakedness in the flimsy thong at you. Your look seemed to appreciate what you saw, as I did when you at last exposed to me what I most wanted to see, feel, touch and kiss, your cock. It looked lovely and beautifully hard, as both of us now naked fell into each other's arms and revelled in the other's body against our own.

"Ok Jayne?" you asked for some reason.

"Mmmm yes very ok," I replied as you guided me to the bed in which you had, presumably, made love to your ex-wife many times just as you were going to do with me right now. And you did.